#every single one of them they just mean so much to me
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Sukuna who never was close to his twin brother and never cared about the pipsqueak runt of a kid who’s his nephew.
He doesn’t care and doesn’t want to be associated with that bullshit. His brother doesn’t take the hint ever and invites him to everything. “My sons’s birthday party” this and “my son’s kindergarten graduation” that. What sort of graduation is meant for a kindergartener anyway? That’s a load of nonsense. But Jin is as annoying as ever with insisting on keeping contact and trying to get Sukuna involved and he hates it until by some tragedy out of nowhere, his brother and sister and law are dead. Yuuji’s left an orphan and no one can care for that kid because there’s no one left.
No one except Sukuna.
They ask him, too. The social workers. They turn to him and say some pitiful script about being “the only family left to take custody of him.” He knows pretty well what’s going to happen to the pipsqueak if he doesn’t agree. The foster care system and the possible horrors such a bright (even if annoying) kid could face makes him question saying no for a second. He’s surprisingly conflicted.
And it’s out of sheer impulsiveness alone does he end up as a single, grumpy, begrudging uncle who’s got custody of a child he never really cared to know in the first place.
And then he meets you.
Sweet, bubbly, warm, and so weirdly happy. Dictionary definition of what an elementary school teacher should be. Yuuji’s absolute favorite person on the planet as he waves hello at you enthusiastically every time that Sukuna drops him off and goodbye every time that Sukuna picks him up.
“I heard his new guardian would be his uncle. It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur to him the first day he picks up Yuuji after school, a look of pure melancholy on your face as you stare at him with an unearthly amount of compassion and sympathy. “Yuuji’s parents were wonderful people. I’m really sorry for your loss.”
“Wasn’t that close with either of them,” he grunts out. You look over at where Yuuji’s gleefully playing on the slide of the playground. Too young and innocent to realize that’s been ripped away from him. Too naive to understand what it means to grieve. Too hopeful about the world around him to realize just how cruel it can really be.
“Oh,” you murmur, nodding slowly.
He thinks that your unnaturally kind demeanor will finally be broken for a split second of judgement. What sort of heartless bastard doesn’t feel an ounce of grief for his own brother’s death? Instead, however, you seem to look at him with some weird sense of wonder.
“You’re a good uncle for stepping up regardless,” you say softly, “it’s more than what most would do in your shoes.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he clicks his teeth, unbearably uncomfortable with how weirdly sentimental this all is. “He’s just a five year old. How much trouble could he be?”
You raise a brow in amusement, eyeing him like he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him. He doesn’t like the vague way you hum, “Yeah. How could such a little human cause trouble, right?”
“I’ve got it under control,” he grumbles, a little annoyed that you seem to think that out of all things, a simple child would be enough to cause Sukuna any issues.
“Let me know if you need anything,” you smile.
Yuuji calls to you from the distance, squealing look what I can do! before he does a rather clumsy spin. Sukuna raises an unimpressed brow. You clap and praise him with an exaggerated gasp of approval.
It’s oddly endearing, he thinks to himself—you, not the kid. The kid’s barely tolerable.
“C’mon, you brat,” Sukuna calls. And then he looks at you and gruffly adds, “And I don’t need help.”
“Okay,” you grin brightly. It almost feels like you’re saying that a little sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ve got this parent thing down.”
Before he can even correct you that he’s an uncle, not parent, Yuuji comes running over on clumsy, short little legs and grabs onto Sukuna’s hand.
“C’mon, Uncle ‘Kuna!”
Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your eyes soften. Weirdly enough, he feels this odd sort of squeeze in his chest that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just getting old—that has to be it.
#writing tag#sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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Jealousy
(Sana x fem!reader)
Word Count: 6.7k
Smut/Play angst/Fluff
Summary: You have a friend from college that is coming to visit and is very affectionate with you. Sana doesn't like that and retaliates before taking this "issue" into her own hands.
TW: THIS IS JUST FUCKING WITH A HINT OF BACK STORY. drinking, food, eating, sex, oral, strap ons, jealousy, degrading, top sanaaaaaaaaa, choking, hand cuffs, just a whole brain rot moment. Let me know if I missed anything.
AN: Hey hi hellooooo! (I BARELY PROOF READ THIS PLS FORGIVE) I feel so out of practice with writing! I had the brain rot and needed to do the thing. I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you to @ghostykapi for always helping me get plot points down like girl what would I do without you and for @psylocke142 and @sscieloz because the three of you constantly keep me sane while I'm losing it when brain does not work LMAO
Please enjoy and drink some water today! Ask are always open and feedback is always welcome! :)🖤
“You don’t need to be nervous, babe. She’s going to love you!” reassuring your wife sitting next to you in the booth of your favorite cafe.
Nayeon, your best friend from college/roommate at the time was in town and wanted to visit and catch up with you - and meet your wife, Sana. You couldn’t be more excited for them to finally make acquaintance after years of talking both of them up to each other.
“I know, I know but I just know how much she means to you and I want to make a good impression, you know?” puppy dog eyes looking up at you, melting you as always.
Sana looked stunning today, wearing a lavender cardigan and a white tank top underneath with some light washed oversized jeans paired with white sneakers. Her hair is long and framing her face so perfectly, with a lavender bow in her hair.
Looking so sweet and kind, glowing in her seat while making eye contact with you. You’re so in love with her, a masterpiece come to life - moving ethereally and making beautiful waves that crash happiness and warmth into the depths of your soul.
Submerging you completely into Minatozaki Sana.
“And you will, my love.” slipping your hand into hers, toying with the ring that was the product of the love built between the two of you.
“You’re sure?” looking down at your hands intertwined, watching as your hands fiddle with the gold band and then back up at your eyes that were filled with pure admiration.
“Never been more sure about anything.” beamed back at her.
It was true, asking her to marry you was the best decision you had ever made and you would do it a million times over, in every single life.
Sana’s cheeks flush red, bringing the hand that wasn’t intertwined with yours under the table up to cover her own smile, sheepishly trying to not get flustered with the way you still flirted with her, even after years of being together.
“Hello! My name is Michael. Can I start you off with some drinks?” the waiter must have snuck up to the table while you were wrapped in each other.
“I’ll have a sweet tea, please.” looking over to Sana who is still trying to compose herself.
“And she will have a hot green tea with honey, thank you.”
“Ma’am?” looking over to Sana.
The waiter seems to be completely ignoring what you said your wife wants…Cocking your head and furrowing your brows, you tilt your head up to look at him.
“I’d like what she said I wanted, thanks.” confusion laces her voice as the waiter sighs with a smile at the sound of her voice and walks to gather your drinks.
“What the fuck is that about?” back tensing in anger, staring daggers at the man who just flirted with your wife.
“You’re cute when you’re angry.” a cold finger catches your chin and leads you to look right into her eyes, inching her face closer and closer to you.
“Nothing to worry about, baby.” voice squeaking with pure happiness at your jealousy as she places her lips on yours, sending you into a whirl wind.
“I’m all yours…forever, remember?” lifting her hand out of yours to flash you the ring and wink.
It takes everything in you to not sink to the floor, you never should’ve taught her how to wink. It’s going to be the death of you and you’re already so weak to her touch that a wink on top of it could send you into a spiral of thoughts of love, and some others that are lust driven.
“Y/n?!” shouted from the front of the cafe, the voice is familiar that can only mean one thing.
“Oop! There she is!” standing up to spot her.
Seeing her and trying to catch Nayeon’s attention and wave her to the table.
Nayeon was wearing a very small crop top, showing off her stomach, and a very small pair of shorts. Very revealing, which doesn’t surprise you. She was always comfortable in her s
“You’re late!” is how you decided to her her attention.
Squealing at the sight of you, you open your arms for Nayeon to practically tackle you to the floor.
“I missed you so much Y/nnie! Look at you! You’re glowing. Ugh I just know that Sana is taking SUCH good care of you. And this, is your color.” grabbing your face and kissing your cheeks obnoxiously with a loud smack to each side, before tugging on the royal blue sweater you were currently wearing and pointing down to the shoes that matched it.
“I miss you too, Nay! I promise you she is and thank you!” bringing her in for another tight hug before letting go, Nayeon’s hand trailed down your arm and stopped in your hand, linking your fingers together.
Head turning start your introductions to one another and you realize that you might’ve forgotten to tell Sana that Nayeon is very physically affectionate…and that it meant nothing…oops.
Your wife’s jaw is on the floor, eyes wide and you can see the annoyance simmering underneath the shocked expression on her face.
“Nayeon! This is my wife, Sana.” throwing the word “wife” in, hoping that it would calm Sana enough to get through lunch so you could explain yourself later.
Already knowing that this was going to be a big conversation tonight.
“Oh my goodness! You’re stunning!” Nayeon let go of your hand and brought them up to grab Sana’s, pulling her out of her chair.
“It’s so so so lovely to meet you! I’ve heard so many wonderful things!” Joyfully offered to your wife as Nayeon wrapped her arms around her.
“Likewise!” Sana’s voice is chipper but the glare she’s giving you from over Nayeon’s shoulder is the exact opposite.
“Shit.” stated under your breath, as Nayeon and Sana part ways to create more small talk between the two of them, everyone taking their seats to get brunch started.
Sana and you take your place on the side of the table you were already on, Nayeon sitting across from you in the booth as your wife and bestfriend slip from small talk into questions about each other.
Both of them seem comfortable, this is great.
A jealous Sana was sexy, the way anger flared behind her eyes never failed to get you wet, even though it was usually not the time for it. Not willing to let this become a situation of jealousy because it’s Nayeon…if it was a stranger, sure but you want these two to get along.
Maybe Sana would get to know Nayeon and realize that the affection wasn’t something that meant anything at all.
Maybe she’s already forgotten.
The waiter walks back over and places your drinks down on the table, only addressing Sana in the process.
“Here you are, Ma’am.” his hands are slightly shaky as he placed the drink down.
“Thank you, sweet heart.” winking at him seductively.
…she had not forgotten…
You were regretting teaching her to wink even more so, as watched as the waiter’s thoughts leave his mind, swearing you could see his heart beat in his neck.
“uh…uhm...N-no p-p-problem, m-ma’am.” tugging at his collar to relieve some of the pressure Sana just placed on him.
Nudging her with your elbow, the look you’re giving her sliced through all the tension of this and was now turning into something she saw as a game.
Pawn move, your turn.
Nayeon is taking all of this in, without interrupting the show unfolding, leaning back in her seat and cocking an eyebrow. Does she realize what’s actually happening here or does she think that Sana is insane?
“I’ll take an iced americano, thank you.” to the panicked man, giving him the exit he seemed to crave so desperately.
“Right away, ma’am!” rushing off behind the doors to the kitchen, you swear you can hear his sigh of relief when he steps out of sight.
“So how is Jeongyeon? How are things?” inquiring so you can distract for what she was witnessing.
“She’s great! She’s back home with Dahyun. They just opened a coffee shop so they’ve been busy bodies with that.” smiling in pride of what her wife and best friend were doing.
“No way! After all these years of wanting to? I’m so happy to hear they’ve finally done it!” returning the sentiment back to her with excitement.
“And Dahyun is still rooming with you both, I assume?”
“Our perfect third wheel!” both of you burst into a giggle, Sana watches how close the two of you are.
You can feel her energy shift into possessive and jealous, more tense by the second as you continue on with brunch.
Nayeon reaches her hand over the table to grab yours, genuinely smiling at you as she prepares to say something.
Sana is seething next to you and you can already tell what she’s going to do about it.
“It’s truly so great to see you, I’m so happy they called a meeting here so we could get together and I could meet Sana too!” the warmth and friendship radiating off the sentence went right over Sana’s head as she laid her hand on your thigh, digging her nails right into the denim of your black jeans.
The waiter, Michael, comes back over with Nayeon’s iced americano and places it on the table.
“Do you need some more time to look over the menu? Or have any questions?” the poor boy is shaken to his core, and it’s about to get so much worse.
“What’s your favorite thing on the menu, honey?” Sana says without looking up at him.
“Oh, you know I love the ba-” you start.
“Not you.” putting her hand up to halt you, mid sentence.
“Michael.” looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes and a smile.
You swear you can physically see his knees turn to jelly.
“Uhm…well I r-really like the pancakes, ma’am.”
Rolling your eyes in disbelief, you wait for her response, making eye contact with Nayeon and communicating with her silently as all of this transpired.
“Pancakes it is then.” putting on her sweetest voice possible before handing him the menu and intentionally touching his hand.
“Wow, your hands are so strong…” caressing the top of one of them before pulling back.
“I wonder how useful those could be…”
“Sana! Enough!” the rage set in with you snapping at her, she had pushed this too far and she knows it.
“Oh, come on. It’s all in good fun, right?” kissing your cheek and then winking at him again.
“Right, Sweet heart?” referring to Michael again.
Staring at her in disbelief, your jaw tightens as you look back at Nayeon who is holding in her laughter, flushing red from the suppression.
“And no laughing out of you!” pointing to her across the table, her arms shoot up to claim her innocence.
“I’m just here to visit a friend! I swear!” chuckling through the sentence and bringing an ease to the table.
“A friend…right…” Sana seems to not believe but laughs along anyway.
Nayeon managed to cut the tension like she always did with a silly moment and for that you were grateful.
—
Over the course of this brunch, you had lovely conversations that everyone was involved in. Nayeon and Sana got along really well, despite the introduction, enjoying a lot of the same things and having lengthy conversations about many different topics.
“How long are you in town for?” Sana asked before taking a sip of her drink.
“I fly home tomorrow night, unfortunately.” sighing and knowing that the visit would be short lived.
“That’s too soon.” quipped back with a frown.
A sudden sparkle behind her eyes and the twitch of her brow shows you that she’s up to something.
“Where are you staying?” expeditiously inquired through a new tone of excitement.
“Well, this trip was very last minute so I’m hoping I can get a hotel down town by the airport. If anything, I can just sleep in the rental car and head to the airport tomorrow afternoon.”
“Nonsense! You’ll stay with us!” This surprised both you and Nayeon.
Sana offering Nayeon to stay at your home was a very big deal. You both really liked your privacy and for her to extend that invitation was...not like her.
“I wouldn’t want to impose!” Nayeon is dismissive of the thought, looking over to you for some hint that this would be okay.
Nodding to her very softly, you agree.
“I insist, Nayeon! I can’t have my wife’s best friend sleeping in discomfort when we have a perfectly good guest room for you to stay in.” Sana’s hand reaches out over the table to grab Nayeon’s, reassuring her that all was well.
“Alright, I’ll stay.”
“Great! I’ll get the check.”
The waiter must’ve been listening as he was immediately when he heard Sana wanted something. Nayeon let out a belly laugh when she saw how quickly he was present, and you rolled your eyes.
Reaching out to hold your hand, Nayeon decides to move a pawn on the gameboard.
“Y/nnie, did you ever tell Sana about what we used to do?” the flirtatious tone perks up Sana’s ears, the scowl on her face already gently forming around her squinted eyes.
“Nayeon, what are you talking about?” trying to brush off what Nayeon was hinting at so Sana wouldn’t get upset.
“What did you guys used to do?” attempting to keep cool about the new information that just dropped onto the table like an anvil.
“If Y/nnie doesn’t remember, I don’t think I should say, besides…I don’t know if you’d be too excited about hearing it anyways. Just a very fond memory to live in my mind then.”
Nayeon winks at Sana and then stands up.
“See you at your house!” swiftly walking out of the cafe.
—
The walk to the car was silent.
Only the sounds of your shoes against the concrete.
Walking around to the passenger seat, you open the door for Sana and wait for her to get inside. She’s just standing by the car and clenching her jaw, you can see the muscles flexing causing you to swallow harshly - nerves tingling as you walk around to the driver’s side door.
Sana suddenly slams the door closed without getting inside before promptly opening it again, for herself, and gets into her seat, closing the door behind her.
Blinking a few times at how petty that actually was, you slip into the drivers seat and start the car.
The first 5 minutes of driving are just as quiet as the walk to the car, Sana’s stewing in her jealousy next to you and you’re just waiting for her to say something.
Slowing down and stopping at a red light, you look at the road in front of you until you feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.
“What did you guys used to do?” sneered at you in disgust.
“We used to smoke weed and sit on a couch, babe. A few concerts, a couple parties but nothing that warrants this reaction.” trying to reassure her that there was no threat from Nayeon.
“Sounds like there might be more. Tell me.” her stern tone rattles you to your core…causing that flash of heat under your skin that screams in desire.
“I mean we hooked up once a long long time ago. But it was one time, and it never happened again.”
“You WHAT!?”
Uh oh.
“You guys had sex?!”
“Baby, we were 18 and young. Probably drunk. It only happened one time. I didn’t think it was that important.” trying to explain but she did not want to hear it.
At. All.
“No wonders she’s so fucking affectionate with you! She probably still wants to fuck you. What the fuck, why wouldn’t you tell me this?!” through clenched teeth and she crosses her arms and shifts away from you.
“Sana, it meant nothing then and it means even less now. I love you. I want to be with you. This was a long time ago, okay?”
Silence.
“Sana.”
More silence.
“Sana!” rising in volume to get her attention.
“Okay, fine. Whatever.” waving her hand at you, the weak signal that she would be fine about this.
“Sana, Nayeon is my best friend…okay? That’s all. You are my wife. I married YOU. Not her.” reassurance making it’s way to her as you try and defuse.
“I trust you. She’s your best friend…I’ll be on my best behavior.” rolling her eyes and sighing next to you.
A fight given up a little too easily…knowing her, she was planning something else.
This was going to be a long night, wasn’t it?
—
Dinner came and went as quickly as brunch did. Spending the night lounging around the house and watching movies with Nayeon and Sana was such a good way to spend the evening - despite the argument in the car earlier.
It seems like they’re getting along very well, giggling with each other and nonstop chatting. It seems Sana is getting comfortable and actually trying to get to know your best friend.
That warms your heart more than anything. She was really willing to put her jealousy aside for you…it’s impossible to not love her more and more every single day.
Nayeon and Sana decided they wanted to watch a movie, so you let them pick while you went and got some snacks from the kitchen.
Returning to find them on the couch whispering to each other, you decided to just sit on the other side of Sana and let them press play when they were ready.
They picked a weird comedy you had never heard of, you decided to just scroll through your phone while the movie played on.
—
Around 10pm, Sana stretched and yawned, leaning into your neck and sighing into you. Toying with the end of your shirt lightly and scooting closer to you.
“You getting sleepy, my love?” leaning your cheek against her forehead and wrapping your arms around her.
All she could do was nod her head softly and nuzzle into you further.
“Why don’t you go and get ready for bed? I’ll show Nayeon where she will be sleeping and meet you in there, okay?”
“Okay. Goodnight Nayeon. Thank you for today!” standing up, giving Nayeon a hug and sluggishly making her way to the bedroom you shared and closing the door behind her.
“She’s a tough one, huh? I never thought I’d see you go for someone jealous…especially with how jealous you get!” Nayeon nudged you as you both stood up and you made your way down the hall to the guest bedroom.
“I wouldn’t say though! She’s just not used to people being touchy with me. She likes a little jealousy…and I mean, you know I like possessive. Even if this round was a little intense. I’m really happy you both got to know each other better so we can do this more often” smiling at Nayeon.
“You both are a match made in heaven. I’m really happy for you, Y/nnie. She’s lovely. Good luck later!” booping your nose lightly and turning to go into the room.
“What does tha-…You know what, I dont want to know…goodnight.” dismissively waving your hand at her while closing the door shut. Her laugh can be heard from the other side of it.
Walking back to your own room, you can’t help but wonder what that meant…good luck? with what? Maybe it was just her trying to psych you out…
Trying to be quiet as you enter, you don’t see Sana on her side of the bed, assuming she’s still in the bathroom, you strip out of the clothes you spent your day in and changed into just a large T-shirt.
The bathroom door opens up softly while you’re bringing your clothes across the room to put in the laundry basket, not bothering to look up, you toss the clothes in the vessel and turn around to crawl into your side of the bed.
That’s when you finally register what is happening in front of you.
Sana has changed into her red, lacey night gown…the one that’s completely see through…the one she knows you can’t resist.
Trying not to drool at the sight of her and how sensual she is in her movements, the way her hips sway and the way she’s looking you up and down like you’re prey to her.
Taking a few steps closer to you, she watches as you stand there in total shock - ready to drop to your knees for her.
“I think I need to remind you what it means to be my wife.” sultry, sexy tone dripping off her tongue, melting through your brain - the ache for her very present between your legs.
“I think you need a reminder of who you belong to…” the sentence lingers in your mind as she makes her way over to you slowly.
Fuck.
She’s playing hard ball with you, wanting you to submit to her immediately…and you’re tempted. It’s hard not to be when she’s like this.
Usually so soft and sweet, but when that bedroom door closes, she’s in charge and you didn’t feel like giving her that power that easily, even if you knew you’d end up sore tomorrow.
“I need to be reminded? Ha! You must not remember what you did.” flipping the script on her, crossing your arms while you wait for your reply.
The devilish smirk translucently sits across her mouth for a moment, before dissolving seamlessly into the start of something that would haunt you all night long.
The game has begun.
“What I did?!” raising her voice at you and taking a defensive stance.
“After what YOU did with your little friend! And in front of me, no less!” Scoffing and crossing her arms at the memory.
Hesitating to say anything, you try and think of a how you want to navigate this. It’s obvious how this is going to end, considering the red lace that’s barely covering her body when the idea pops into your head.
Pawn moved.
“It’s cute when you’re like this” slowly walking up to her and placing your hands on her hips and leaning into her chest, lips mere inches apart.
“Whatever.” Arms still crossed under your chests pressed together as she fights to not wrap her arms around you.
“Awh come on, my jealous baby. You know it’s only you.” Trailing a finger up her side and watching as she swallows harshly, breath hitching as she mimics your movements.
As her hands glide up your sides, the tips of her fingers graze lightly over your skin and lift the over size shirt with them - revealing what was underneath.
Nothing.
Sana lets out a short laugh when she sees your bare ass, smacking it loudly and leaning forward into you with a hand slithered up the back of your neck and through your hair.
Check.
“And who says that you’ll get what you want from me? You think being a slut for others gets you rewarded?” rebutted in a whisper with her lips brushing past yours so delicately.
Pawn moved.
Hands coasting up her back and into her hair that’s tied into a bun, you kiss up her cheek and right to her ear.
“If you won’t, I know someone who will.” another peck to her cheek.
Check. Mate.
“Someone in the next room…she’s done it before. You’ve seen her hands, right baby? Can’t you just imagine how fu-”
Sana suddenly lets go of you. Shoving you, hard, onto the bed.
“Don’t fucking move. You’re going to regret what you said but any disobedience going forward will only result in worse. Do you understand me, whore?” the mood is rage scorched, scowling down at you as you nod your head one time before she sets off to the closet.
She pulls out the box, grabs her strap - the larger one - slipping it on and tightening the sides so it fits tightly. What surprises you is when she reaches back into the box and pulls out some hard metal handcuffs you rarely ever used.
“You think you can just talk about someone else fucking you and get away with it, bitch?” walking up to you, twirling her finger around in front of her, signaling you to turn over onto your stomach.
“Hands behind you.” her stern voice is making you dizzy, unable to actually register what she’s actually saying.
“Now!”
A hard smack to your lower thighs startles you, the sting is delicious but you listen to what she says and put your hands behind your back.
The metal is cold against your wrists, wiggling to see how tight they were. There wasn’t much room to move at all.
Running your fingers against the metal to find the loose bolt that usually releases the sex cuffs, you can’t find one that rattles against your fingers.
“Awh…you thought I’d use the fake ones on you?”
Oh, shit.
Sana pulls you to the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor and torso bent over the sheets. Taking the head of the strap, she runs it up and down your slit in a very unhurried fashion.
“Look how wet you are.” slapping the end of the dildo on your clit a few times just to hear it splatter against you.
“Did you get wet like this for her too?” gliding back over your slit this time dipping between your lips and grinding against your clit.
A gasp leaves your lips at the sensation, the burst of pleasure that sent shockwaves through you.
“Answer me, slut.” she’s leaned over your back and in your ear, grinding softly against you.
Holding you down by the chain with one hand, the other slips up to your neck, holding your throat to force you to keep your head up.
“Why don’t you…fuck- ask her?” whined out between the sluggish strokes of Sana’s strap.
Immediately coming to a halt when what you said registers in her mind, she grips your throat tighter, you can feel her tensing her body.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?!” growled as she lifts herself off of you.
Rabid, feral and unhinged, Sana can’t seem to get a grip on herself. Taking the chain of the cuffs in her hand and tugging hard, she flips you over on your back. Lost in lust and rage, she grips the collar of the thin oversized shirt you were wearing and rips it clean down the middle in one harsh tug.
You’re lost in your own neediness as you start to drip onto the floor, waiting for Sana to make her move and put you in your place.
Watching as she stands before you, strap brushing up against your core while her hands are clenched into fists next to her.
You swear you can see the steam spewing from her ears and her jaw clenching. Nudging her hips forward, the sensation of the strap against you pushes you closer and closer to begging for her and you know that’s exactly what she wants.
Sana’s hand flies down and smacks your thigh, the sound is brutal but the pain is something you crave.
“I said, what the fuck did you just say?”
You’re melting, slipping into the mindset of wanting.
Wanting her.
Craving her.
“Baby” huffed out through the tension of the room.
“Please”
“Please, what?” leaning forward, her finger comes up to your collar bone and traces it down, feather light touches right over your nipple and slipping to your hips.
Her lips follow from your neck down to your nipple, brushing past her lips barely touching your skin as she descended.
“Sana, please…I need to feel you.” breathing becoming heavier as her mouth travels down to your hips, biting down when she’s low enough to cause the reaction she wants.
Bucking your hips forward, instinctual reaction from your body- her hand raises and smacks your tit. Moaning into the empty space in the room as Sana kisses her way down to your slick smeared lips.
Her breath against your pussy was enough to push you over the edge - a long carnal whine expelled in frustration at how slow she was going. Needing her to finally take you the way you knew she wanted to.
“Say. It.” maliciously whispered, eyes showing you that even if her face was stoic in this moment, there was a hunger in them.
Sana drags her tongue up your inner thigh, stopping right before you could gain any relief from the friction of her touch.
This was torture.
���Baby” a breathless attempt.
Sana inches her way back up to your mouth, leaving a trail of ever deepening teeth marks in her wake, until she’s face to face with you - noses caressing and lips teasing each other.
Tugging at the metal of the cuffs, you whimper at not being able to touch her. Wanting to pull her close to you and tempt her to break- to give in and give you want you needed from her.
Sitting in sounds of your shallowed breath, Sana smirks at you letting out a sigh.
“I can feel how wet you are, baby.” taking her hand down the the base of the strap and positioning it against your entrance.
“Dripping down my strap and knowing that you can’t touch me…Must be so agonizing for a whore like you.” taunting you through clenched teeth and a forced smile.
Gliding over your slit again, she brings her lips closer to yours, letting you lean up to her but pulling away before your lips meet.
The only thing you can think about is her ruining you. Burning sensations of the emptiness between your legs instructs you to rock your hips back and forth to try and get her to slip the tip inside you.
“What’s the safe word?” pulling out of the moment to acknowledge the boundaries.
“Red.”
As soon as the word flies out of your mouth, Sana’s hand is around your throat. Thrusting her hips forward painfully slow until she completely bottoms out inside you.
The moan you let out was music to Sana’s ears, wanting nothing more than to let the guest in your house to know who could make you like this…let them know who you belong to.
Pulling the attachment out to the tip, Sana slams back down - hard but at a slow pace.
“That’s right, honey.” hips cocking back again.
“Let her know you’re mine.” hips snapping into you creating a rhythmic slapping as she continues torturing you with the aggressively slow stake to her claim.
Lips finally meeting, you’re fighting the metal connecting your hands as you both passionately dissolve into each other.
Sana’s grip around your throat tightens as she slowly starts to pick up the pace of ramming the strap into you. Her other hand trails to pinch your nipple, giving it a flick and a few twists so you moan even louder.
Feeling all the euphoria she was presenting you with, you’re unable to stop yourself from whimpering and moaning. Any attempt at muffling them felt useless. The only sounds outside of your own moaning was Sana breathing heavier as she snapped her hips into you, was the sound of your slick against her aggressive, deep thrusts.
Sana suddenly stops, elbows on either side of you, her resting and catching her breath for a moment. Taking a second to brush the hair out of your face, she looks you in the eyes and snaps her hips into you, pressing against your cervix when she speaks.
“Does she fuck you like this, slut?” another harsh thrust.
“Unh! Fuck babyyyy- ungh” your own voice echoes off the wall and back to you.
“Can she make your pussy this fucking wet?” another rabid jolt of her hips.
The deep strokes of her inside you hit every spot imaginable, tingling building in your limbs as she keeps marking her territory with her mouth, bite marks and hickies litter your body haphazardly.
Pressure building from inside you, gasping for air when you realize how close you are to cumming.
“S-Sana! I’m gonna c-cu-”
“No.” is all she says when she pulls out of you completely and watches as you writhe and whine on the sheets.
Moaning and whining in protest as you feel the pleasure receding, Sana just smiles and watches you tear up.
“Tell me who you belong to.” tip grinding against you again, this time causing an almost out right panic in you.
“Only you! Sana, please! fuck me! I need it I need it I need it PLEASE.” tears rolling down your cheeks, inching yourself close to her.
“Sit up.”
You immediately do as your told.
Sana grabs the keys from the nightstand and unhooks your hands.
Immediately, without a second thought, you’re pulling her onto the bed and pushing her down. Her smile is huge, giggling at how desperate you are.
Sana’s hands make their way to your thighs as you fix your position on top of her, straddling her as you ease yourself down onto her.
Hands flying up to catch your waist before you can sink too far down on her, she holds you still and buck her hips up one hard time before allowing you to sit comfortably with the strap inside you.
Completely blissed out, you lean forward and lay on her chest with your face in her neck. Her soft sweet giggle can be heard in your ear.
“Is my good girl that desperate?” placing her hands on your ass and assisting you in slamming down onto her.
“I bet she couldn’t ruin you like this.” positioning her hips at just the right angle to hit your G-spot over and over again as she picks up her pace for you.
Loudly mewling out as she rails into you, the ethereal wave comes back and takes hold of you again. Slamming yourself down onto her on your own, you can only think about cumming for her.
Right as the orgasm is about to shatter through you, Sana flips you over and throws you into a mating press, thighs against your chest and starts jackhammering into you so deeply that it sets your skin on fire.
“Fuck, S-s-ana! I’m gonna c-cum! J-ust like th-that baby!”
“Tell me who you belong to, honey.” her tempo only accelerates.
“You! Only you!” turning you into a groaning mess as you come undone around her.
Vision blacking out, you practically scream as you lose your sense of self and turn into exactly what she wanted, a ruined wife.
Her ruined wife.
Every fiber of your being set on fire and you violently thrash underneath her, creating a mess on the sheets and all over your wife.
Sana is laying soft sweet pecks on your cheeks as she lets you ride out your orgasm, holding your hips still while she lightly rocks into you.
“You’re so good for me, baby.” kissing your forehead and standing up, removing the strap from inside you.
“Look at the mess you made” pointing to the lace smeared with slick.
Unable to catch your breath, you try to compose yourself to reply when she sinks to her knees between your legs.
“Let me help clean you up, honey.”
A long, wide tongued lick up your pussy has you twitching immediately, still completely sensitive and walking into overstimulated territory.
All you can say is “Fuck, baby.” as she laps at you, cleaning up the remanence of cum from your thighs and cunt.
Passing over your clit intentionally, she watches you squirm and moans into you. Hands immediately grasping at her head, trying to pull her closer.
“Is that what you want, baby?” before a rhythmic open mouth kiss engulfs your most sensitive area and turns you back into a groaning mess.
It wasn’t long before she added her fingers into your folds, slipping two in immediately and pressing them up while latched onto your clit.
Bucking your hips into her mouth, you release the loudest, guttural moan you’ve ever heard as you cum around her fingers. Barely giving you enough time to come down from your first orgasm, she expected this of you - cumming quickly for her a second time.
Feeling the droplets of sweat dropping from your forehead, you feel Sana crawl up next to you and snuggle into you. Still gasping for air, you rolled onto your side and nuzzled into her. She played with your hair until you eventually fell asleep in her arms.
—
Waking up the next day was an atrocious feeling, not enough sleep and more sore than you ever had been.
Cracking your eyes open, you realize the bed is empty and there’s laughter coming from the kitchen.
Sitting up and rolling out of bed, you stretch and wince before getting a pair of Sana’s sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt to cover yourself up.
Opening the door to the bedroom, you wipe the sleep from your eyes and meander over to where the sound was coming from, dragging your feet along the way.
Sana and Nayeon are drinking coffee together in their pajamas - Sana is wearing one of your shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, a stark difference to what she wore last night. Nayeon has on something similar.
“Well good morning to you, Y/nnie!” Nayeon blurts out before falling into a thunderous cackle.
“You look like you got beat up! I said good luck, didn’t you hear me?” continuing to laugh with Sana.
“How bad are they? I didn’t check my neck in the mirror…wait, you…you knew?!” squinting at her in judgement.
“They’re pretty bad…Sana must have a biting kink, hm? And of course I knew! The tension between the two of you can be felt light years away. Plus, you weren’t exactly quiet about it.” fighting the laughter as she winked at you.
Nayeon’s hands shoot up in innocence again.
“She’s yours, Sana. I wouldn’t dream of taking her away from you.”
Looking over at Sana, she’s got her hand over her mouth trying to stifle the giggles. She walks over to pour you some coffee.
“I think it’s more about possessive and less about biting…And what are you laughing at?! You started this!” pointing at your wife as she turns beat red.
“No I didn’t.” nonchalantly as she passes you the mug.
“Nayeon should be happy that she’s leaving tonight.” sipping the warmth and smacking your lips at the taste.
“Why is that?” curiously inquired by Im Nayeon.
Looking over at Sana, she’s embarrassed and covering her face with her hand again but for different reasons.
“I didn’t flirt with you, but Sana flirted with the waiter in front of my face like that so I’ll put it this way…I know someone who’s louder and about to get it a lot worse than I did.”
#twice x reader#twice imagines#twice smut#kpop imagines#minatozaki sana#sana x reader#kpop x reader#twice sana#wlw#twice sana smut#sana minatozaki#kpop smut#sana smut#minatozaki sana x reader#sana x fem!reader#sana x fem reader#sana minatozaki x reader#twice scenarios#sana#Jealous sana
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And it is All. Aziraphale's. Fault.
NO IT FUCKING ISN'T HIS FAULT
First of all: I'm pretty sure every time we see Az and Crowley in the past, Crowley is wearing whatever is the height of fashion while Aziraphale wears things that are well made but several decades out. Meaning he is wearing them for a good while. Swapping his clothes around when they become maybe too worn, maybe too conspicuous.
Walking the clean, gas-lit avenues with Crowley and Elspeth, Aziraphale is oblivious to the privilege he has in this world.
Really? Was he born yesterday? He has no idea how the world works?
the angel spouts trite pontifications created by the rich to justify poverty. He genuinely believes Elspeth has more opportunities for goodness. After all, look at Wee Morag.
It wasn't invented by the rich. It was 'invented' or used rather by the church that got used by the rich to keep the poor in place. There is no way you can blame Aziraphale for this. All he wanted is for Elspeth not to end up in Hell. Which Crowley wanted too, after he saw how upset it made Aziraphale. That's not fucking wrong. And you can't tell me either that rich have more opportunities to do good. Or that they do so. Or that more of them go to Heaven.
The inequality in humanity? Well, Adam and Eve had nothing. We have caused all this bullshit to ourselves. Nothing to do with Aziraphale. Or Crowley.
He respects her goodness tremendously. It proves to him his “rightness.”
Did you mean to say, he's glad she's not heading for Hell.
And so he sabotages Elspeth’s attempt to sell the body she dug up in her attempt to support Wee Morag. Dalrymple gets no body, Elspeth gets no money, and Aziraphale believes he’s saving her soul.
He WAS saving her soul. Remember? Heaven and Hell being real places you go to when you die in GO?
Selling stolen bodies puts good in the world. He’s all for it now, and goes back to encourage Elspeth. Good heavens, he’s even willing to help this time!
Maybe next time try to be a bit more condescending to someone who just learned something new. And IMMEDIATELY changed his mind about it. Plus, Crowley had no idea digging up bodies could be spun to be a good thing either. He was learning just as much as Aziraphale. But I haven't seen one single FUCKING META about how Crowley was completely disinterested in Elspeth and her life. Only in having his usual argument with Aziraphale. Until he didn't. (And as I pointed out, he wasn't right about - you have start people off equal, people did start off equal, we are just assholes)
But, as we know, it all goes wrong. Wee Morag is shot by a grave gun, and dies of her injuries. Elspeth steals laudanum, and plans suicide.
In other words, everyone makes their own choices, things go badly for Wee Morag. Maybe re-watch the ep and see how Elspeth doesn't blame Aziraphale (or Crowley) for what happened. So why do you?
Crowley drinks the laudanum, saves her in a compassionate Scottish frenzy, and is stolen away by hell because of his kindness.
Is he? Or is he taken cos he sent two guards directly down to Hell, alerting them?
And it is All. Aziraphale's. Fault.
(I deleted what I wrote here)
He considers all of the money he casually spends on fine clothing and expensive tailoring. He wonders how many lives could change if that money was better spent on helping to relieve the poverty that surrounds him.
There's absolutely NOTHING in canon to support this. We can HC whatever we want sure, I for example think that Az wears things, as I said above, that are stylish but always out of fashion because it takes him time to find the right things and then he wears them for decades and decades. Because that's what is suggested by the canon, by the care he puts into his clothes and how well loved they are. The fact that 'male' fashion got less flamboyant down the centuries was not Aziraphale's decision. I for example HC too that Azi, when building his bookshop, and using his own, earned money as you rightly say, was spending miracles on making sure his workers didn't injure themselves, that he spent miracles looking after the street urchins in the very poor neighbourhood he has chosen to settle in (as opposite to say Mayfair). And that when Gabriel told him off for using too many 'frivolous miracles' in 1792 he got mad and decided to go to Paris like the stupid angel he apparently is and get, say, ravished by his enemy who would surely find him helpless and not able to save himself in a prison.
What would Crowley do, if he were free to be kind? And so Aziraphale changes.
Yes, because Aziraphale is an asshole who cares about nobody, and nothing, right?
the angel who took too long justifying a life-saving miracle for Wee Morag
Because he's NOT ALLOWED TO INTERVENE.
who hesitated to give Elspeth his 90 Guineas
Do you think he should have just worked and worked and give all his money to poor people? Is that the answer to all the world's problems? Making Aziraphale poor?
willingly and freely gave Maggie forgiveness for thousands of pounds of debt
Why wouldn't he. It's his property and I am sure he lends it to Maggie for significantly less than anyone else would have. Definitely less than those 'gentlemen' in the book who come and try to persuade the angel from time to time to sell his bookshop.
I'd love to know what else he's done over the last 180+ years!
He's been the kind, big hearted angel he always was. Looking after his shop, his tenants and anyone else who he could. Saving babies in prams and making sure shady men never came back. Looking out for Crowley, trying to keep him out of trouble, worrying about him, keeping an eye out to see if he's not doing something reckless. Finding out the demon wants to rob a church, handing him the one thing that could take him away forever with the heaviest of hearts. While of course, Crowley was doing the same thing. Not giving in to Aziraphale's princess act in the Bastille because he knew it would not ultimately end well for them. Understanding when Aziraphale said no to a date in 1967, not surprised since he remembered well what happened in 1941 when they were seen together.
*** YES if Aziraphale did absolutely nothing on the graveyard, Wee Morag would have probably lived a bit longer. How much longer though... and they would very likely end up in Hell, because they would have had to do much more crime down the road. Maybe even get hanged for graverobbing. Also see: Aziraphale just wanted to help. Did you never make a mistake??? He didn't mean to hurt anyone. If he did nothing, he'd never have learned yet another way the world is complicated and not black and white. Crowley was going to do nothing at all, just have a laugh at someone robbing a grave. No one cares. He's a demon. He stopped Elspeth from killing herself and everyone applauds, yes, it is super kind of him, and dangerous for him too, but it is the right thing to do. He didn't want her to go to Hell either.
The people who think they would have figured everything out before any events happened at all...well, good luck in your life.
And people who think Az should have done nothing - okay then. Let's just all do nothing at all, hoping we avoid all the bad things. Also: Changing the world is not done via charity but via changing the society, creating better welfare systems, housing, medical care, education. Those are things one lone angel (and his husband) can't do. And it's not their place anyway. I have like 5 pounds in my bank account (I hope) and yet I am not blaming someone well-off for that. It's the systems that are failing us. Much like the systems failed Aziraphale and Crowley. Putting two wonderful beings through so much pain because - that's how it is done.
And as I have said a million times before, Aziraphale is not learning some morality lesson in GO (HE IS A WONDERFUL, GOOD, KIND, GENEROUS, BRAVE BEING ALREADY), he doesn't need to get off his high horse, he doesn't need to finally 'see things clearly'. He knows how fucked the system he lives in is. He's just trying to help. Even Crowley says (in the book) that Heaven is the better option over Hell. However fucked it is.
Aziraphale learns from Crowley that he can question things, yes. But not in some, oh he's so blind and stuck and deep in some dogma bullshit. NO. He was always told things will happen a certain way. That Earth gets 6000 years tops. That God Herself made a Plan. It may be Ineffable, but it is a Plan.
I'm sorry, if you think you are far smarter than this and you would have figured out that God is telling porkies, good for you, I'm glad such intellects exists.
Because Crowley also didn't know the Plan could be changed until the end of S1. Yes he asked Az to try stop Armageddon but I don't think he really believed they could. He just wanted to give it a go. Cos - well what did he have to lose?
And they did change it. They held Adam's hands and they told him to be himself and when Gabe and Beez wanted to go ahead anyway Az confused them by asking about which Plan said what. So yes, he learns to question things. And he learned that from Crowley. And Crowley? Who was abandoned by the one Being who was always supposed to love him? Well. Crowley looks into those blue eyes and trusts.
The Night That Changed an Angel (or, why does Aziraphale still wear that shabby vest?)
Mini-Meta Musing (#4)
I've been brooding for a long time about, of all things, Aziraphale's worn velvet vest and the long cream jacket he's kept in "tip top condition for over 180 years now." I love the sweet familiarity, but this is the same angel who popped across the Channel and almost lost his fluffy-topped head in 1793 for dressing like an aristocrat.
"I have standards!"
He's the height of elegance, extravagance even. A dandy. We've seen the same at the Globe Theater 1601, Edinburgh 1827, and even as a Knight of the Round Table in 527 Essex, where he's wearing a glorious pelt across his shoulders! However, sometime after Edinburgh 1827, Aziraphale's stylish extravagance ends. He adopts the dress of distinguished but modest gentility. No seamstresses strain their eyes for days hand stitching ruffles and trims for him any longer. When we next see him in 1862, his clothing is refined, simple, and serviceable. It becomes his uniform, with only minor replacements. Why? What happened to change him?
Edinburgh 1827 happened. And his encounter with tragedy ran over his sensibilities like a locomotive.
Aziraphale had, we were told, saved his earnings over time and had bought land, invested wisely, and became quite well off. He used real money, not miracles, to build the bookshop, paying the builders well and taking care of bills honestly. He built himself up to a more than comfortable lifestyle, from nearly nothing. And his clothes are real, not miracled from nothingness like Crowley's. (source: original showrunner)
Aziraphale's wealth allows him to afford luxurious tailoring and fancy shoes and ruffles and trims. He'll certainly pay the cobblers and tailors and seamstresses well for their labors. It will be a substantial expense for the era. (The linked post gives a wonderful perspective on 1793 lifestyles and costs.)
https://agoodflyting.tumblr.com/post/753227014283083776/why-aziraphales-white-satin-pumps-are-ridiculous
The angel's Edinburgh multilayered and trimmed top coat, soft leather gloves, matching scarf, jacquard vest, silk cravat, etc., look entirely out of place in the back alleys where the poor huddle. Walking the clean, gas-lit avenues with Crowley and Elspeth, Aziraphale is oblivious to the privilege he has in this world.
As he strolls along in philosophical banter with Crowley about the "blessing" of poverty, the angel spouts trite pontifications created by the rich to justify poverty. He genuinely believes Elspeth has more opportunities for goodness. After all, look at Wee Morag. He respects her goodness tremendously. It proves to him his “rightness.” And so he sabotages Elspeth’s attempt to sell the body she dug up in her attempt to support Wee Morag. Dalrymple gets no body, Elspeth gets no money, and Aziraphale believes he’s saving her soul.
It’s a poignant moment, though, when Aziraphale cradles the jar containing a tumor from a seven year old child who died because there wasn’t enough medical knowledge to save him. Turning point number one. It becomes Real, not a philosophical debate. Selling stolen bodies puts good in the world. He’s all for it now, and goes back to encourage Elspeth. Good heavens, he’s even willing to help this time!
But, as we know, it all goes wrong. Wee Morag is shot by a grave gun, and dies of her injuries. Elspeth steals laudanum, and plans suicide. Crowley drinks the laudanum, saves her in a compassionate Scottish frenzy, and is stolen away by hell because of his kindness. And it is All. Aziriphale’s. Fault.
Turning point number two. Another watershed moment where Aziraphale’s world changes again.
One of Crowley’s last earthly acts, before getting plunged into hell, is to have Aziraphale give Elspeth all of his pocket money. What is pocket money to the angel is a fortune to her, one that can set her up for a better life. I have no doubt that in the aftermath of the traumas of that night, missing and worrying about Crowley, Aziraphale thinks about all of this. He considers all of the money he casually spends on fine clothing and expensive tailoring. He wonders how many lives could change if that money was better spent on helping to relieve the poverty that surrounds him. He wants to help, and to try to make amends for the harm he caused. What would Crowley do, if he were free to be kind? And so Aziraphale changes.
I’d love to know the story of how it all played out. Did he sell his fine clothing and donate the proceeds? Did he become involved in charitable foundations? Did he buy the clothing of a simple gentleman and decide to preserve it, however worn it became, as a reminder to himself of his past blindness and vanity? We see in Season 1 how important it is to him to preserve that coat. (Sure, it's also a fantastic opportunity to flirt and flutter those angelic eyelashes... But, nonetheless!)
By Season 2, the angel who took too long justifying a life-saving miracle for Wee Morag, and who hesitated to give Elspeth his 90 Guineas, willingly and freely gave Maggie forgiveness for thousands of pounds of debt. I'd love to know what else he's done over the last 180+ years!
Whatever happened, it began that night in a graveyard.
#good omens#aziraphale#crowley#edinburgh minisode#edinburgh#aziraphale defence squad#aziraphale my beloved#good omens 2#good omens thoughts#good omens meta#ineffable husbands#kaypost
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I'M QUITTING + MY VOID STATE SUCCESS STORY
Hello guys, it's been a long time since i have posted something or in general be active here which was mostly because of personal reasons (just focusing on myself), although one of them had to do with our community.
I personally joined loatumblr at the middle of 2022 (from a previous anonymous account i had) but i started posting much later. Back then, the community was at it's peak ngl. The bloggers and the way they explained stuff was honestly, at least for me, so helpful and enjoyable. After the end of 2023 - beginning of 2024 this community started dying. I really didn't like this since I loved scrolling through specific blogs and reading their posts. I tried to post some stuff to give a little bit of life in there and i guess it did help a little.
Quick note; Please don't get me wrong, i'm not saying that the current posts and blogs running right now suck.. what i'm saying is that this community used to be way more alive back then.
One of the reasons why this happened is because people applied and got what they wanted. So they logged off tumblr. When I realised that, I decided to seriously focus on loa and start applying myself. And i ended up manifesting some good stuff, and I was good with it. Although, after some time, i decided that i wanted to manifest a completely new life from scratch, which it was what i wanted to do from the first time i joined tumblr but i ditched that thought and ended up changing some stuff about my current life.
My goal back then was to enter the void state (which im pretty sure it was 95% of the people in here goal too), but i didn't understand it properly so i couldn't 'enter'. I ended up ditching it and manifested without it. But after some point, i did my research and fully understood the void state or better, pure consciousness. If you go through my blog, you won't see much stuff about pure consciousness because i choose to not talk about it in here. The way it is treated it loatumblr just pisses me off. If you post a void success story, people will immediately run to you and ask you basic stuff like 'how did u do it?' when all the information needed about it is already posted. People tend to see it as something 'huge' and believe they can't succeed in it which is bs. If you do a little bit of research on pure consciousness you will understand how simple it is. Although, even if the 'void state' is seem like something that people overcomplete this doesn't mean that you can not use it. What i'm saying is that there are some people who really dislike the concept of it and will recommend u not to try it. Look, everyone has their different opinions and beliefs but if you want to manifest your dream life in the void state, go ahead. After all, it found you for a reason.
So coming back to my experience, since it was always my 'dream' to manifest my dream life in the void state, i decided to do it now. I'm pretty good at lucid dreaming (i've been lucid dreaming 3 years now) i decided to tap into my pure consciousness during a lucid dream. So i did my usual routine, had a lucid dream in which i closed my eyes and found myself floating in a void. I affirmed that i have lucid dreams everynight and then i got out. I did this 4 days ago, and i have had around 3-4 lucid dreams every single night, without doing any practise at all. Also, i have been scripting my entire dream life and i'm preparing myself to finally experience it. I have decided to make a looottt of big changes but two of them are the 'biggest' for me; numb.1 i will manifest that i will completely forget about my current life (i will also not remember anything about the law, for personal reasons) and numb.2 i will go back in time around 30 years ago (again for personal reasons). I mentioned this to make it clear to you that i won't be able to post my 'success story' after manifesting it, since i will not remember anything about me manifesting stuff and also even if i did, i wouldn't be able to post it since i will not have access to tumblr or current technology in general. So my success story is this one. This days, when i find the right time for me, i will have a lucid dream as usual and tap into my pure consciousness again which from there, i will finally manifest the life of my dreams. So that's my final post you will see from me. I hope you all never give up and get what you want because trust me it's worth it and all this found u for a reason. If you really want it and you stay consistent, then it's all yours. My words can not describe the way i feel right now, knowing that i have my dream life right in front of me and i can just grab it and give it to myself anytime, after this big journey. Goodbye everyone :)
#success story#void success#loa success#goodbye#loa#law of assumption#loassumption#assume and persist#void state#manifestation#manifesting
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Biggest Fan Pt 1 - CL16
Requested by @nina-or-anna-or-nora "Heyy!! 💕 I saw you were asking some requests so I have one for an Smau!! (If you want to do it ofc) I was thinking about the reader being kinda like Sabrina or Olivia (a performer) and then Charles being like her biggest fan🤭just a super cute fluffy thing and he goes to every show he can or posts her and stuff🥹"
AN - Had so much fun writing this SMAU for you! Don't be afraid to send in requests that aren't apart of the Pizza Menu! I love Sabrina but I'm not a die hard fan so I have no idea how many outfit changes she has or the order she performs so if it's a little messed up I apologize! Also LMK if you wanna see me do this with more drivers and make it a little series of the drivers being head over heels for their girl friend!
Summary: Just Charles being in love with Y/N... and basically everyone in the F1 community!
Charles insta stories over the fall break
Twitter
Charles instagram
Liked by landonorris, youruser, carlossainz, and 2,090,513 others
charlesleclerc We're ready for you Austin ft. Y/N and all the fan gifted hats that will make an appearance this weekend tagged carlossainz and youruser
user5 I love how he makes a post for work and still finds a way to get Y/N in there
user6 your honor... it's them. It's always them!
youruser I'm ready to be back in my home soil!
user7 I constantly forget our girl is from the US charlesleclerc you mean MY girl user8 Charles will never learn to share charlesleclerc not when it comes to MY Y/N youruser alright calm it down you charlesleclerc yes maam
user9 I hate feeling single but I do love you guys!
carlossainz Will I ever get a post with just us?
user10 Carlos... they're a package deal user11 If I don't expect anything less, you shouldn't either youruser damn... catching strays carlossainz Y/N I thought we were friends!
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Your insta story
user12 how does it feel to be living my dream
carlossainz he's been smiling at his phone for 10 minutes because you posted him
youruser I love knowing he loves me as much as I love him
user13 his eyes
charlesleclerc that's one lucky man
youruser he really is!
user14 I love the way you guys love each other
landonorris you guys disgust me with how cute you are together
youruser you wish this was you huh? landonorris I miss when you were to shy to interact with us... kinda a meanie youruser you'll learn to survive
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Liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, oliviarodrigo, and 3,092,172 others
youruser Thanks for the warm welcome home... see you in a few weeks for Vegas!
Look for a surprise tomorrow around noon YeeHaw time!
charlesleclerc Ooooo I wanna know the surprise
user18 I can't believe I have notifications on and Charles is still here before me
charlesleclerc you snooze you lose! gotta be quicker than that! youruser love you need to be a bit nicer! user18 no this is on me... I should know no matter how much I love you Charles just loves you that much more! user19 I'm sobbing at this! Charles is so unhinged when it comes to Y/N
landonorris Can I also know the surprise
charlesleclerc NO!
user20 YeeHaw time is SENDING me! For anyone confused she's talking about CST
user21 THANK YOU! It makes so much sense now that you've explained but as a non F1 Y/N fan I didn't realize she was in Texas haha
user22 I love their height difference. I forget just how SMALL Y/N is.
Your Insta Story
charlesleclerc I can't wait to watch you!!
user23 HOLY SHIT! I can't fucking wait!
user24 omg! I'm so excited for this!!
landonorris: I hope you have a ticket saved with my name on it!
youruser: I do including the rest of the grid... spread the word pleaseeee
user25: Oh to be in the US rn to experience this concert! I just know it's gonna be amazing
Twitter
Charles Insta story during the show
Max's Insta story during the show
Youruser: Max! hahaha you had me cracking up in the first slide... then tearing up through laughter in the second. Thank you so much for finding time in your title fight to support!
maxverstappen1: I wouldn't have missed it! Had to see what all the hype was about. Please invite me again
Grid Members Stories (Lando, Carlos, Oscar, Yuki, Liam, Franco)
#formula 1#f1#f1 x you#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one imagines#f1 smut#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot#cl16 fic#CL16 SMAU#Charles leclerc smau#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula one smau#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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Pointing out little moments and details of the last yr scene.
wilmon endgame • episode 6
the camera work is so on point - it follows wille around moving frenetically, as to emphasize the hurry and the tension.
simon gets in panic mode for a sec. he was never over wilhelm but definitely thought their relationship was.
at first he looks ... scared - not of wille but of what he feels for him at this point. he's still in love but they got to the finish line, they broke up with no idea of when or if they will talk to each other again, there's no reason for wille to chase after him if not to change something.
it makes his thoughts spiral, but somewhere in his little heart he has a lot of hope too and that's why he steps out of the car to hear what he has to say.
these words really mean everything and i'm glad they're told directly to simon. it's such a sigh of relief for wilhelm to get this off his chest and mean it for real: he's doing something for his own sake finally - to be free, to be happy, to be in control of his own life for once.
he never got to choose anything - somebody else has always done it for him - but he no longer has to be afraid anymore.
simon is just as relieved and the proudest: he proved over and over again to care so deeply. to see wilhelm constantly hurting inevitably hurt him too.
he knew wille was brave - he actually told him once - and he was so right. it takes a lot of courage to do what wille just did.
shut up he's adorable :') playing with his fingers and trying not to break into a smile. he wants to look calm and collected but his heart is jumping out of happiness.
this comes after the are you sure you're over me? - breaking up was all it took for wille to think that simon must not love him anymore: to earn love and for everything to be perfect in order to deserve love is what his family and royal life always taught him - but simon's what the hell do you think? proves him so wrong.
the tears in his eyes i cannot - this is the face of a man who's bursting out of love, he adores simon this much.
they crush into the hug like they've been dying to do it. what a moment it must be for them to close the distance.
in this hug they find what they both were needing the most.
they hold on to each other. emotions are so overwhelming and it's written all over their faces - it feels too good to be real.
it's almost scary to let go now and i love how they tighten the hug at the same time, clinging to make it last longer.
and they're at the same height so simon has to be on his tippy toes ahsjkh.
oh the beauty in simon feeling every emotion to the fullest and letting them all out. he doesn't hold himself back and it is truly heartwarming to watch.
this hug is healing - he's giving joy to be back in wille's arms, proud of wille for putting himself first, relief because the fear of losing him was too much to handle.
the single tear drop and the pure disbelief in his expression. he caresses wille's cheek and keeps looking at him like he's the most precious thing.
doing the triangle method - again. old habits never die huh.
wille letting simon choose to whether kiss him or not.
it's our simon we're talking about, the one that risked it all and initiated their very first kiss bc he liked wille that much already, so could he possibly not do that now? he obviously does and can't help but smile into it.
they can't get enough of kissing and wandering hands. it's like their only way to make this become more and more real.
fair to say they're kinda obsessed with each other's hair!
love love looove the transition from them kissing in secret in the dark of the night to them kissing freely out in the open in the daylight - the most beautiful metaphor.
completely different plot points but the feelings involved are so familiar - reunion kisses are very much their brand: there's longing, passion, need to savor the moment to make it last.
and this time it can really last forever.
something super special about simon not replying with i love you too but sticking to i love you - it is not just reciprocal.
this shot haunts me. it's from the documentary and idk why it wasn't used in the final cut, i'll make space for it here anyway!
wille can't stop smiling and simon never takes his eyes off of him - he's emotionally overwhelmed by the way he bites his lip and his chin trembles. my heart.
no ray of sunshine between them could ever distract me from wilhelm diving into this kiss with his eyes open.
simon is definitely being pulled closer by the waist here and i take it very personally.
i was already full on sobbing when this part of the scene came up - sara and felice calling them out bc they are too caught up in their own bubble.
they still take one more moment to just look at each other so fondly tho and try to get a grip on what has just happened.
i get you wille! simon is the loml too.
this shot is sooo!!! hillerska in the rear view mirror as they drive away - time for the last bittersweet goodbye.
all of them are wearing white, they're driving off in a white car, most carefree than ever - sounds a lot like freedom and fresh start.
some things never change - they're the most comfortable and happy when they can be just them, just like this.
god knows where they're headed but it doesn't really matter as long as they're together.
wilmon endgame babyyyy.
they've been through so much but come so far eventually. it's the end of young royals but the beginning of a new chapter in wilmon story - the best one - and it's only theirs to write from now on.
it's still going to be tough, storms are still about to come their way and ruin plans, life is a mess but at least they have each other. they're holding hands in a we are in this together kind of promise and it's so reassuring to know.
it was a hell of a ride but love and hope wins - and there's truly no one who deserves it more than them.
time to appreciate the comparison between wille the perfect crown prince and messy hair with undone shirt wille!
he looks at the audience for the very last time with the most content smile and we can tell he really is - ready. to leave us behind, to face the future, to experience life in the way we've seen him fight for before.
wilmon breaking the fourth wall together at the end would've been insane, but it feels so right to focus on wille actually: it's always been just him, it all started with our eyes on him and his journey, the choice to abdicate is for his own sake and not for simon - he said it himself - so for him to be alone in the closing shot makes the most sense to me.
wilhelm finally getting his own little family of people who loves and values him, simon sharing life with the person who's made him feel seen and cared for - this is honestly the best finale we could’ve ever asked for.
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Just Want To Talk PT. 2
Part 2 of this story: Part 1
Gojo Satoru
Gojo stood frozen in the middle of the room, his words echoing in his mind. The second the door slammed shut, regret hit him like a tidal wave. He sank onto the couch, running a trembling hand through his hair. He hadn’t meant any of it—not a single word.
He waited an hour. Then two. But you didn’t come back.
Panic set in as he grabbed his phone and dialed your number. It rang and rang, but you didn’t pick up. He called again, and again, his desperation growing with each unanswered call.
Finally, he grabbed his coat and headed out, searching the city for you. When he found you sitting on a park bench, your face buried in your hands, relief washed over him. But when you looked up at him, your tear-streaked face broke his heart all over again.
“Go away, Satoru,” you said, your voice hoarse. “I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses.”
He dropped to his knees in front of you, his usual arrogance nowhere to be seen. “I messed up,” he said, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean it, Y/N. Any of it. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you, and it was wrong. You’re not a burden. You’re the only thing keeping me sane.”
You stared at him, the pain in your chest battling with the sincerity in his voice. “You made me feel worthless, Satoru. Like I didn’t matter to you at all.”
His hands reached for yours, shaking as he held them. “You matter more to me than anything. I just… I don’t know how to do this. To let someone in like this. I’m scared of losing you, and I messed up trying to protect myself.”
Your heart softened slightly at his words, but the pain was still there. “You can’t just push me away every time you’re scared.”
“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’ll spend every day proving to you that you matter to me. Please, Y/N, give me one more chance.”
You hesitated, but when he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, you let yourself lean into him, the warmth of his embrace finally melting the wall around your heart.
Geto Suguru
Hours passed before Suguru found you, sitting alone on the steps of the temple where you’d spent so many happy moments together. When he approached, you didn’t look up.
“I thought you wouldn’t come,” you said softly.
“I almost didn’t,” he admitted, sitting beside you. “But then I realized how much of an idiot I’ve been.”
You turned to him, your tear-streaked face filled with pain. “You called me weak, Suguru. How am I supposed to forgive that?”
“I don’t expect you to,” he said, his voice trembling. “But I need you to know that I didn’t mean it. I’m scared, Y/N. I’m scared of what I’ve become, and I pushed you away because I thought it’d be easier than letting you see me like this.”
“You hurt me,” you said, your voice breaking.
“And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. “You’re the only light I have left, Y/N. Please don’t let me lose you.”
You hesitated, but as he reached for your hand, his grip gentle and desperate, you allowed yourself to believe him, leaning into his embrace as he held you tightly.
Nanami Kento
Nanami worked late into the night, the weight of his words gnawing at the back of his mind. He told himself he’d said what needed to be said, but as the hours passed, guilt began to creep in. When he finally went to bed, he found your side of the bed empty.
Panic set in as he searched the apartment, only to find you curled up on the couch, your face streaked with dried tears.
He crouched beside you, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with regret.
You stirred, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice still hoarse from crying. The exhaustion in your tone cut through him like a knife.
“I should be asking you that,” Nanami replied, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He sat beside you on the couch, looking at you with a mixture of guilt and sorrow. “I shouldn’t have said what I said earlier. I’ve been so caught up in everything that I didn’t even stop to think about how you were feeling.”
You stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his words lingering in the air between you. “You told me I was overthinking, that I was being insecure. But Kento… it’s not insecurity. I just want to feel like I matter to you. I’m not asking for you to drop everything for me, but… I need to know I’m important too.”
Nanami let out a shaky breath, his fingers gently brushing your arm. “You are important to me. I’m just… bad at expressing it. I’ve always been this way, focused on work, trying to make sure everything is in order. But I realize now that I’ve been neglecting the one thing that matters most.”
You shifted slightly, meeting his gaze. “What’s that?”
“You,” he whispered. “I’ve been so focused on my responsibilities that I’ve been blind to what you need from me. I’m sorry, Y/N. I was wrong, and I want to make it right. I don’t want to lose you over my own shortcomings.”
Your heart softened at his admission, but the hurt was still there, lingering. “I need time, Kento. You can’t just brush this off. You need to show me, not just tell me.”
He nodded, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable. “I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I don’t take you for granted.”
He pulled you into his arms, gently resting his chin on top of your head. “I know I’ve been distant. But I promise, I’ll try harder. I won’t let you feel this way again.”
The warmth of his embrace was comforting, but the scar from his words still burned deep inside you. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to trust that things could change.
For now, you let yourself rest in his arms, knowing that he was willing to try. But in the back of your mind, you knew that actions spoke louder than words.
Choso
Choso stood there, his eyes filled with an emotional turmoil that he struggled to control. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You don’t know what I’ve done. What I’ve become.”
“Then tell me,” you said gently, taking a step toward him. “Don’t shut me out. Let me in, Choso. I’m not going anywhere.”
The raw vulnerability in your voice cracked the wall he had so carefully built around himself. His breath hitched as he looked at you, the weight of his inner battle tearing him apart.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t deserve anyone. Not after everything I’ve done.”
You shook your head, reaching for his hand. “Choso, I don’t care about what you think you deserve. I care about you. I love you, and I’m not going to walk away because you think you’re too broken.”
He looked down at your hand in his, his throat tight with emotion. Slowly, he pulled you into an embrace, burying his face in your shoulder as he finally let his tears fall.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to push you away. I’m just so scared of dragging you down with me.”
You held him tightly, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m here, Choso. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
In that moment, as he clung to you, you knew that while the pain wasn’t gone, there was hope for healing. You would both find your way back to each other. Slowly, but surely.
Ryomen Sukuna
Sukuna didn’t follow you immediately. He stayed on his throne, his expression unchanging, but the empty room suddenly felt heavier than usual. He told himself it didn’t matter, that you’d come back like you always did. But as the hours dragged on and the sound of your footsteps never returned, something began to stir inside him—a feeling he hadn’t allowed himself to name.
By the time he went looking for you, the sun had long since set. He found you in the palace garden, sitting on a cold stone bench with your knees pulled to your chest. Your cloak was wrapped tightly around you, but it wasn’t enough to hide the way your body trembled, either from the cold or from the weight of your grief.
For a long moment, he just stood there, watching you. You didn’t look up. Maybe you knew he was there, or maybe you were too lost in your thoughts to notice.
Finally, he broke the silence. “Still sulking, I see.”
Your head shot up, your tear-streaked face glaring at him with a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “Go away, Sukuna.”
He ignored your words, stepping closer until he was standing directly in front of you. “You’ve been out here for hours. Are you trying to freeze to death?”
You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Why do you care? I’m just a ‘distraction,’ remember?”
His jaw clenched, the faintest flicker of regret crossing his face. “I… misspoke.”
“Misspoke?” you repeated, standing up abruptly. Your voice cracked as the tears came rushing back. “You told me I was nothing, Sukuna! That I was weak and pathetic! How do you misspeak that?”
He flinched at the raw pain in your voice, his usual arrogance faltering. “I said those things because I’m a fool,” he admitted, his voice quieter than you had ever heard it. “Because I don’t know how to handle this—how to handle you. You make me feel things I don’t understand, and it terrifies me.”
You stared at him, your anger mingling with confusion. “And you thought hurting me was the answer?”
“I thought it would push you away,” he admitted, his voice filled with rare vulnerability. “That it would be easier if you hated me. But instead, all I’ve done is hurt the one person who matters most to me.”
Your breath hitched at his words, the raw sincerity in his tone breaking through the walls you had built around your heart. “You broke me, Sukuna,” you whispered. “I don’t know if I can forgive you.”
He stepped closer, his crimson eyes locking onto yours. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to earn it. I can’t lose you, Y/N. You’re the only thing keeping me from becoming the monster everyone says I am.”
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Slowly, hesitantly, you let him pull you into his arms, his hold tight and protective. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you weren’t alone.
#jjk satoru#jjk angst#jjk x reader#jjk suguru#jjk sukuna#jjk nanami#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen#satoru gojo x reader#getou suguru x reader#nanami x reader#choso x reader#sukuna x reader#comfort#angst with a happy ending
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I remember watching season 1 with some friends and commenting that I liked that Viktor's main motivation at its core wasn't 'I'm gonna heal myself', but 'I want to help other people in any way I can' and they replied with "just keep watching, are you sure about that?"
And you know what? Yeah. I am. My stance has not changed.
It's rare to see a disabled character who is defined by his disability but exists outside of it in his goals, motivation and life. Someone who is not diminished by characters around him for his disability, but instead it's seen as part of him.
I have a physical disability that's currently moderately annoying but has the potential to progress up to debilitating in the future. I also have two cognitive disabilities that severely hinder my capacity to work and do things in every day life because of how much they tax my brain.
Jayce's words were not ableist. Not to me. They were spoken by an able-bodied man whose only experience with disability is by proxy which makes them awkwardly chosen, but not any less true.
Jayce admires Viktor's ambition and drive for progress for the good of everyday people. He sees Viktor's dream to cure himself and prevent others from developing the same preventable disease, and more than admires it.
And Viktor is the one who started it all, because he heard Jayce's dream to help people through Hextech and not only agreed with Jayce, but became at times the predominant driving force behind Hextech development.
Viktor does not see his worth. He is the one who's internalised every single thing he hates about himself, to the point where he would shed every emotion and rip out his humanity to get away from his failing body instead of reaching out.
He is a lesson in internalising ableism, understanding how doing so causes it to fester and rot inside of you.
Because Jayce never saw Viktor as lesser because of his disease and disabilities.
Only Viktor did.
The monologue is not perfect, but there will never be a monologue that attempts to address this topic that is perfect.
And to me, hearing someone tell Viktor that he is more than the disability he sees, that he should never be ashamed of his drive to change the world because of it, well...
It means a lot more than I am currently able to express. It's something, as a disabled person, you don't hear often said genuinely and not as inspiration porn.
okay. let’s talk about jayce’s monologue, since people are calling him ableist.
for context, not that it matters: I have a significant mobility disability and a progressive chronic illness which, even when managed, can kill me. I’m not in exactly the same boat as viktor since my disease isn’t terminal, but I’ve had very similar experiences to him. this shapes my perception of him and of this storyline.
this is the monologue:
You’ve always wanted to cure what you thought were weaknesses. Your leg. Your disease. But you were never broken, Viktor. There’s beauty in imperfections. They made you what you are. An inseparable piece of everything I admired about you.
first, it should be noted that “what you thought were weaknesses” is not the same thing as “things that are good.” jayce is not saying that viktor’s disease is or was a good thing. what he is saying is that he admired (loved) everything that viktor was, which included the things viktor thought made him a burden or a problem. remember also that jayce almost doomed the world because he couldn’t let viktor die; he would never imply that viktor dying was a good thing.
the next question, then, is whether viktor sees himself as a burden or not. I think it’s implied that he does — it’s certainly not unrealistic to think that viktor might have come to view himself, or at least his disease, as a burden and a flaw. disabled people often view ourselves that way either because of internalized ableism or because society constantly tells us that we’re burdens and that our bodies are abnormal and wrong. viktor displays behaviors that indicate internalized ableism, including hiding the fact that he’s coughing up blood from jayce the first few times it happens and generally refusing to be in the public eye in a way that is self-effacing and not just him being private. yes, he says in act 1 of season 1 that he believes in himself, but he does also call himself a cripple in a dismissive way in that same scene; also, he doesn’t have the disease at that point. arguably the entire scene where he runs despite clearly being in pain is an example of his internalized ableism, but that’s another post.
more evidence for viktor’s perception of himself being negative is that he clearly has a sense that he doesn’t deserve to be loved (specifically by jayce, but maybe also in general). we see this when he asks jayce why he’s still persisting in saving him. we see this with his generally self-effacing behavior. we see this with the fact that in all of season 1, the only person he allows to touch him is jayce, and that the only person he actively touches in the entire show is jayce. viktor is reserved and not good with his emotions, which is a huge part of his arc this season. all of these behaviors point to him having a negative self-perception.
I think it’s important to really consider how jayce perceives viktor and how viktor perceives himself. I don’t think this season handled everything perfectly, but I think they handled this very well. viktor has been written with a fullness and complexity that most disabled characters don’t ever get. him being morally grey doesn’t mean he’s “problematic” or “bad representation.” obviously I’m only one disabled person, but I really love jayce and viktor and I think their story is beautifully written.
#arcane spoilers#arcane#viktor arcane#jayce talis#I can and will throw down with people over this#society pushes you to repress this shit and then is amazed when you explode#but it's the people who truly See You who matter not society#ableism#op your analysis means everything to me I hope you know this#my adhd kept interrupting me while writing this so it's all over the shop lmaoo#arcane season 2
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my honest reaction
#once again the trailer just kind of makes me feel nothing but confusion at why theyre doing things the way they are#why is gerald still alive. even if it turns out to be time travel or him being frozen alongside shadow or something#it still takes away a lot of the emotional impact of shadows story ... why .....#the fact that theyre just seemingly having gerald be rouge's replacement in the dark story trio too???? what. thats stupid .#and speaking of rouge. where are rouge and amy. ive never seen a single good argument to justify their exclusion here#why is the only girl character from the games whos present the one who famously dies horribly for male characters' motivation#(to be clear im not saying the way maria's death is handled in the games is bad writing or anything#just that having her be the only girl character to have a movie counterpart is certainly A Choice.)#and. why are team sonic (and human characters associated with them who are supposed to be the good guys) working with gun .#gun literally does nothing but cause problems for sonic in sa2 ?!?!?!??!?!#even if it does turn out theyre not being completely honest with sonic about what shadow's whole deal is thats still. why ...#i wasnt expecting an exact recreation of sa2 but that doenst mean i have to be okay with every possible change they make either#especially when a lot of this stuff just actively makes the story worse. sa2 im so sorry they did this to you#honestly probably wouldnt bother me quite as much if this was a comic or tv show or something#and not . a big popular movie that is probably going to overshadow the game in a lot of peoples minds. ughhhh#also shadow has still only had a couple lines so maybe its not fair for me to say anything just yet#but i dont . really like how he sounds from what we've heard .. why did the ycast keanu reeves this sucks#idris elba as knuckles is starting to annoy me too tbh . like i didnt care for it at first but then it grew on me#and now im back to not really liking it . that is NOT knuckles#anyway. im honestly struggling to understand how so many fans of the games are uncritically excited about the movie ?#and dont have any problem with the writing choices being made here.. ?#do they just not care how shadow's story is portrayed as long as he looks cool doing it .. ?#im not saiyng the people who are excited are fake fans i just . dont get it
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I know that it is highly unlikely that it is the case, but come and give it a thougjt with me (Yandere Spice with a twist).
What if: Burning Spice, despite being completely obsessive and being the sadomasochist he is, routinely cuts off the heads of animals and cookies and brings them to her the first time with a love letter (he used to be the Herald of Change, so I'd imagine he's got- and retained- some brains, enough to at least write a psychotic obsessive love letter).
Now, Golden Cheese is obviously gonna freak the f out and gape as he shoves the head into her arms (probably throw it into the air and back up in panic) while Burning Spice- though displeased at first, just grins manically at her reaction soon enough (maybe even laughing), before he grabs it and shoves the letter and head onto her hands again and leaving.
Golden Cheese, having noticed his reaction to her throwing it, becomes concerned with what he might do if she doesn't accept the 'gifts', decides to keep it (She flies hella fast and enters through her window and hides it in a secret compartment in her room, before creating a hidden room the other gifts in the future).
Now, here's the twist:
Despite the shock and horror she displayed to Burning Spice's gift, she knew that deep down... She fucking loved it. She silently revels in it, even. At having so much of the Beast- A cookiebeing you could practically almost consider primordial and all-powerful-'s attention and taking up so much of their headspace. To be obsessed over adored by someone like that, so much so that they would go out of their way to behead someone and something and write a love letter daily, just to give it to her as a gift-
In short, she absolutely loves the attention she will never say it and will keep that to her grave and Burning Spice and everyone else is none the wiser of it. Of how she'd kept every letter and laminated every single one with the care and cautiousness and love one would use when holding thin glass, of how she intentionally goes out alone every day for a few minutes just so Burning Spice would 'see an opening' and give his gift, where Golden Cheese would then act terribly disgusted and horrified, and then keep the gifts. Ignorant of how she has a room full of the 'gifts' he's given her- which she'd taken the time to personally taxiderm each and every one, before hanging it on the wall like a reward or trophy. Of how she'd come to the room every night to just adore it just the sight makes her want to coo and purr in delight for a few minutes to an hour, before going to bed and resting.
Sorry for the rambling and the long paragraphs 😅😅
This is such a horrifying (in a good way) concept that I MUST acknowledge it and give my take!!! Gonna put it under a cut because this is particularly dark
Yandere Spice basically acting like a cat is so fucking funny to me lol I love it
I'm so glad you think Spice is a smart guy due to having been the Herald of Change/History, because I think that too! He simply HAS to be intelligent, even wise to a degree. It would be ridiculous if he wasn't; being buff doesn't automatically mean you're dumb. And I LOVE the letter thing, I've always headcanoned Spice (the "normal" one, not the yandere one) as writing Golden romantic poetry (and her liking it lol. It helps win her over).
Now, with the murder gifts: of course Golden is horrified. Not only has Spice ended innocent lives, but he did it for her. In a way, it's her fault, and she feels horrible. Animal, person/cookie, doesn't matter, Spice has killed again and he gives the fruits of his sinful labor to her as a declaration of "love". It's sick. No matter how deranged she finds him, he finds a way to sink lower. (But... one thing: he never hurts birds. He has never once brought her a dead bird, because even he knows that's a step too far and she REALLY won't like it. It's the one little drop of care and tact that he possesses.)
But that twist: somewhere beneath all those layers of shock, disgust and righteous anger is... flattery. Sick, twisted flattery. There's nothing Golden loves more than being praised, than being worshiped, than being showered with attention and gifts... and Spice is doing that. He's feeding her ego, albeit in the worst way possible. And so great and terrible is her ego, no matter what she does to temper or suppress it, that somewhere deep down inside, she enjoys what he's doing. That he'll gladly kill for her. That he'll show off his hard work in search of her praise and admiration. She is a goddess and he knows it. He is giving her the adulation she rightfully deserves.
Now, of course, this contradicts her normally altruistic nature, and she has a massive crisis of conscience. She keeps everything Spice gives her, she keeps the heads and the letters and stores them all properly, because... Well, she tells herself that it's better this way. If she refused them, he would retaliate, if not against her then against another innocent. If she preserves the heads, she can later discover who they belonged to and hopefully return them to the person's family (and it was the least she could do; clean them up, give them back even a fraction of their grace and dignity...). If she reads the letters, she'll have better insight into his mind and how he thinks, and thus be able to formulate a better response to him and his behaviors. These excuses are what she mutters under her breath over and over as she sneaks the heads into her room, through the window so no one sees her. As she tidies and laminates the letters, and stores them in a secure folder that she tucks into a box under the bed (which eventually becomes boxes, the more and more letters she gets). As she expertly taxidermies the heads and places them on nice shelves in a hidden closet in her room. It's better this way. She has to do this.
...and these are all true, they really are. But at the same time... Existing alongside this pain and terror and crushing guilt, is the sick joy in knowing that she has someone wrapped around her finger this completely. And a Beast, too. The Beast of Destruction, no less. Burning Spice himself, heads over heels in love with her, willing to do anything to have her. It shouldn't please her to have a monster practically at her beck and call, but... it does. It really, truly does. And no matter how much she hates herself for it... It's never enough to make it stop.
Sometimes, she'll hint at a specific person she doesn't like - usually a known enemy of her kingdom - just to see if he'll do what she thinks he will. Sure enough, the next time they meet, he has that person's head ready for her, all but puffing his chest out in pride and grinning that hideous, face-splitting, cruel grin of his. She acts upset, but she's actually pleased to know that she was right: he WILL do what she tells him to, just to please her.
Sometimes she'll stand there admiring her ever-expanding taxidermy collection, congratulating herself on her hard work; she does a better and better job every time. (And when the guilt comes bubbling to the surface, asking her why they're still here and not with their loved ones so they can have a proper funeral, she tells it that Spice will lose it if he catches her giving them away. Or she'll be made out to be the one responsible, since she's the one who has them. Or they're dead, their souls have departed to the afterlife, what happens to their mortal vessels matters not anymore...)
Sometimes, when she's in bed at night, she'll pull out the letters and read them. Sometimes she'll read one, sometimes a few, sometimes all of them. Some are surprisingly sweet and romantic, full of oddly gentle and doting words; she can feel the warmth and affection soaked into the page. Others are downright vulgar; she feels her own face catch fire as she reads through what are obviously his fantasies, the list of ways in which he wants to pleasure her so long and graphic that she suspects he wrote them one-handed, if you know what I mean. The rest are just flat-out deranged: feverish rants about his ownership of her, how he hated and wanted to get rid of those around her, how she took everything from him (his power, his sanity, his heart, his soul) and he was willing to pardon it if she gave him everything of hers in turn. How he will never stop hunting her. How he will slaughter thousands to get to her. How he will bring the world to ruins just to have her to himself. Madness. All-consuming delusion that she fears is incurable.
But the worst part is... she doesn't know if she wants it to be anymore.
All she can do now is... hope he never finds out. Hope he never knows she feels this way. That she relishes his kills, his gifts. That she has a godforsaken trophy room now. That now she's as starved for his attention as he is for hers. (And he will. The idea is simply too tantalizing. He WILL find out eventually, someway, somehow - and when he does... Oh boy.)
TL;DR: Golden is so greedy that her greed has warped her into being as bad as Spice, at least in her own way. They probably deserve each other at this point. Pure, incorrigible arrogance and psychopathy all the way down. God/Witches have mercy on us all
#thank you SO much for this ask. What a fantastic(ally awful) idea. I had a blast with this#Imagine being whittled down mentally by your tormentor to the point that you start stooping to their level in some way...#...and you end up so far gone that you're not even sorry about it.#FANTASTIC. PURE UNDILUTED TOXICITY. YOU LOVE TO SEE IT#cookie run kingdom#burning spice cookie#golden cheese cookie#burningcheese#goldenspice#yandere beasts#suggestive
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so it’s pretty popular in this fandom for the overblotters to have a support group going on, and that’s all well and good and we’ve got a lot of amazing stuff out of it (shameless segue into compelling you to read the “girls in wonderland” series by the lovely jxnebug on ao3, please, it’s awesome), but can you just. like. imagine for a second that everybody else has a support group too, because goodness gracious, do the people who have to witness the overblots need so much therapy.
like. i imagine that it starts off with the first-years and their weekly ramshackle hangouts, and then they all start venting to each other about all the trauma they’ve gone through in the past year, which, thanks to yuu, becomes an unofficial, very unqualified support group.
ace: hey. i’m ace trappola. during my first week at night raven college i had to wear a collar around my neck at all times and didn’t even get to sleep in my dorm, which is probably for the best, because i couldn’t really sleep with that stupid collar anyway. i slaved away making a chestnut tart to apologize to my housewarden with, only to have my apology literally thrown into the trash. and when my best friend tried to stick up for me, they got called stupid and undereducated. and my other upperclassmen just enabled him. i almost got killed twice in that week, and many more times afterwards.
deuce: hello, i’m deuce spade. and i promised myself that i would become the best person i could be for my mom, only to fall short of my own expectations every single time, except for when i literally sign my soul away. i had such high hopes for my housewarden and upperclassmen to guide me to a better future, only to come to the realization that they’re even more flawed than i am. so, basically, there is nobody who can help me now, and i’m doomed to the path i made with my own hands.
jack: this is so unnecessary. jack howl. basically what deuce said, but combine that with the fact that, when you first met, your upperclassmen didn’t have any problems with getting rid of you if it meant their path to victory was assured. your dormmates will never admit that they’re wrong and sooner rip your ear out than say they like you to your face. but you care a lot about them, and deep down, maybe they care a lot about you, too. but the only thing they can do that would prove that in your eyes is improve themselves. become better. be the people you thought they were when you got here. and that is the one thing they will never do.
epel: howdy. my name is epel felmier. my housewarden is all about personal improvement. he’s right to think that i need to rework my thinking about gender and strength, because they are not equal in any way. other than that, though, he has no investment in me as a person. i’m not allowed to eat whatever i want. if he tells me to perform, that’s what i do. if i slip up even a little, he scolds me for being lazy. my posture must be perfect, my diction clear, and my hair flawless. he puts the same pressure on himself to be perfect, so it’s not like he’s a hypocrite. but that’s the thing, isn’t it? he likes me for the things i do — and he hates the person i am.
ortho: hello, world. my name is ortho shroud. not the real one, though. i’m just a poor simulacrum of him that my big brother forged from the flames of his grief and the metal of his self-loathing. but even though idia put his soul into constructing me, i can never truly be the person he wants me to be. my only purpose, and i can’t even do it correctly. for almost my entire life up to this point, idia loved his dead brother more than he loved me, and i just had to be okay with that, because the nature of the STYX organization mean that i didn’t have anybody else. and the one time i tried to change that, i corrupted my brother and almost ended the world.
sebek: greetings. i am sebek zigvolt. i nearly perished recently. the prince that i admired so dearly tried to put everybody to sleep, and in trying to stop him, i very nearly lost a dear friend of mine to the secrets hidden inside his father’s brain. the whole time, i felt distinctly out of place. it was like i was watching one of those soap operas master lilia loves so much. only ever looking. never touching. right before me was a broken family that i only wanted to see come back together, but i couldn’t fix it. for it was not my family to fix. i was helpless. useless. but that is nothing new.
yuu: …hi. i’m yuu. i was ripped out of my home and isekai’d into this world that’s filled with mentally unstable magic people who tried to kill me more than a couple times. i am currently living paycheck-to-paycheck while going to school full-time thanks to a crow who doesn’t know how to adult. and clearly, we all have a lot of work to do.
this goes on for a couple of weeks with just them, but then sebek decides to invite silver, because he’s prolly not doing so hot post-book 7 (and also, silver is basically the freshmen’s official big brother at this point, let’s be real) and then silver invites kalim a few weeks later, who invites ruggie, and then it just sort of snowballs out of control from there.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst first years#sebek zigvolt#jack howl#ace trappola#deuce spade#ortho shroud#epel felmier#twst yuu#twst silver#kalim al asim#ruggie bucchi#(mentioned)#if the formatting seems a little off that’s because i wrote this on a tablet lol
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Theres no words that can describe the complete alienation of having severe long covid. One infection, caused directly by political decisions to remove public measures, and i cant walk. Can't stand except on really good days which are getting rarer. Sitting is a privilege i dont always have. Cognitive work is too much of a risk to consider for the moment. I live in constant fear of going back to being utterly bed ridden in the sense that i cant even feed myself, drink water, speak, move my limbs beyong my fingers and toes. For days and days without relief.
Nothing feels real. Every gain can be lost in a literal second. And on top of this, the fear of reinfection. The very real possibility of death, given how weak a single infection has made me when I was healthy and young. The even more real possibility of a worsened state, where there are no good days. That means death, too. If i am constantly in a state where I cannot move, i am going to have to resort to euthanasia because it is not a bearable existence. I can barely tolerate it when it know it will end. Last time was 14 days and I am still so traumatized by it 2 months later nothing feels real.
And on top of that, i am being told that my life doesnt matter. Covid is not a real concern. Let it fester. Even if the stairs in my building didnt lock me in, all public spaces have become lethal to me. I cant see my friends because they cant avoid exposure when theres a wave. To love me, you must live in a horrific world where no matter how many precautions you take, no matter how much they ostracize you, you might still cause my death.
Covid is a privileged issue they say. Im not even in the room for it bc i cannot be in the room. You can move your body, youre not afraid of death, you havent lost everything that makes you *you*, but im the privileged one. I cant even emote the way i used to. If i get too excited, too happy, i cant move. I talked to countless people who cant work anymore, are losing their jobs their houses their partners their immigration permits but no. Covid doesnt matter. I dont matter. Everyone cheered when i got covid bc they got to party for new years eve. I hope it was a good party. I will never agree that it was worth my life.
For the past 2 years ive had to share classrooms with students and professors who know everything about my story, who have seen how disabled i am by long covid, who ive begged to mask. They all refuse to mask. And i have to sit there and pretend its not a cosmical level farce that theyre talking about social justice and ethics and just what good people they all are. Not to mention that most of them have revealed themselves to be zionists. I have to sit next to an iof soldier and act as if its ok that she gets to sit in this classroom, except im not even sitting in the room because cases are too high and im too weak to be there physically anyway, so im on zoom. At least i get to remove my earbuds when she speaks so i dont have to think about the atrocities she has committed.
#long covid#complete loss of faith in the future#no one cares if i live or die even among leftists#i cant even be in the room anymore to be seen#its been almost 3 years of living in the most horrific reality#this summer has been so. dehumanizing#please care. please wake up. no matter where you are.#covid#btw if youre queer and you pretend to care about aids but dont a give a shit about covid. i hate you personally 🧡 do better#ive found extraordinary resemblance between my despair and the despair of people dying during aids. we are the same.#except their community started giving a shit. when will you#also people with mecfs who had it before covid im holding your hand we're in the same boat my future is your future
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for those who are looking which of these games have yandere endings, allow me to kindly add them in a read more :D
Cupid Parasite: Gill Lovecraft
The most consistent yandere-vibes from Lock's recommendations. Gill's I would say leans so much on pathetic sad dog yandere and irl stalker that the otome game community is very divided on him (and a majority of us are yandere/trash husbando fans lol).
You'll spend most of his routes looking at how much he's a loser (/aff) who simps for his former roommate. I mean, he's trying to get over you but the heavens might quite literally be playing with him— cause how can he move on when you're his matchmaker???????
Cupid Parasite is so silly and so fun, highly recommend for those who love romcoms.
Piofiore: Nicola (Bad End)
Note: don't search his name on google images cause one of the first things you'll see is his CG for the bad end. Do not spool yourself lol.
Oooh how I love this man. Him and Dante are my faves [and Roberto. Lord. I love Roberto so much why isn't he a love interest?!?!?]
I won't spoil much, but his bad ending is 🥰. Plus Piofiore is such a good game anyways, it's worth trying out. If you like mafia men that are trash and would definitely kill you in other routes (sometimes their own too aHEM MISTER CHINESE KEBAB)— this game is for you.
Olympia Soiree: Kuroba (Bad End)
Ngl I remember the yandere end for this one being relatively short, but Kuroba along with Byakuya are my faves so I didn't really mind. If you like your fics with some sort of "chosen one" flair to it, OS is for you <3.
Don't get it twisted though, the game makes it a point to show time and time again how much their color system destroys the people [definitely feels like a metaphor for racism-]
Even if Tempest: Crius Castlerock (Bad End)
TW: childhood abuse/neglect, cannibalism, straight up every route has murder since this is literally a Phoenix Wright fantasy otome game, blood, unending angst you can't escape from if you want to see a single good ending, etc. For the amount of girlbossing and (justifyable?) crimes the heroine had done [and lord she's such a pretty androgynous girlie], the game is very refreshing.
LOOK AT MY BABIIIIESSS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
If you love suffering, I highly recommend this game because the plot is amazing. It does not hold back as much. It's not like Black Wolves Saga's level of "dead dove: do not eat" but man will it surprise you.
Crius definitely feels overprotective even in routes outside his. As an older brother figure-esque, he has this tendency to help you out without question [this fact will hurt you later.] His bad end? I'm a simp. And I like the hurt it gives. 10/10. Also him in the fandisk is 🤌🤌🤌🤌. Everyone in that game is so loveable.
I play a whole lot of localized switch otome games and let me just say, he's gotta be part of my top 5— and some people on that list are there for nostalgia's sake (Hi Tokimeki Memorial). Crius is great. Much love.
Bonus route: Steam Prison - Fin Euclase
I shit you not, bro is a yandere in every route but his. I am not joking. The amount of Love Interests that had fallen from his hands— meanwhile in his route he's a struggling wholesome puppy just trying to survibe the underworld. I love him but I cannot be with him simply because I'm not content with just seeing him happy, I wanna see that broken side again /silly
I forgot to mention: I wouldn't say CxM has a yandere route [I say that as someone whose faves are Okazaki and Shiraishi, who keeps being typed as yanderes when they're deranged at best /j]
... Buuut there is a bad end where it feels like Hoshino/the MC is a yandere for our poster boy :)
lock's otome game recs
i received some asks indicating an interest in a compilation of my favorite otome games, so i decided to go for it!! i've played about fourteen otome games, but of those fourteen, only these six left a lasting impression on me. there are still some that i intend to check out, so the rankings may update in the future. i'll give a very general overview of each game and how i'd score the categories that i find the most important in an otome game — the heroine, story, art, enjoyability, along with the characters i liked the most.
number 6 - piofiore fated memories.
heroine: 6/10 story: 6.5/10 characters: 7/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 8/10 favorite characters: dante (ishikawa kaito), nicola (kimura ryouhei) and yang (okamoto nobuhiko)
this game centers around the heroine, with the default name liliana adornato, who finds herself entangled in the politics of the region's three most prominent crime organizations. the game has an italian backdrop and iirc, takes place in the 1930s.
the overarching narrative, while it has its fair share of intrigue, isn't the game's strongest point. it's the interactions with the characters themselves that made the game feel worthwhile. each love interest has more to them than what meets the eye, so it's satisfying to watch the relationship between them and the heroine develop.
the heroine takes a passive role throughout much of the game, events sorta just happen to her. still, she has a kind disposition that makes her likable and doesn't make stupid decisions that has you wanting to fling your console across the room. her characterization changes slightly depending on the route. for instance, without getting into spoilers, she's more assertive throughout yang's route. the resulting dynamic made yang's route the most memorable, even if he's my third favorite character from the bunch.
what feels unique to this game is the effort put into the bad endings. in most visual novels, bad endings can feel like gimmicks. you make one or two wrong decisions and you're rewarded with a few paragraphs. the downward spiral of the characters in the bad endings are decently fleshed out and you can see how they arrived at this 'worst' version of themselves. they're suitably dark and it shouldn't come as a surprise that i enjoyed them because of that 😭
then there's the art. it's stunning, the details in each CG are mindboggling. the heroine gets to wear a variety of pretty outfits which is something i like to see. even in the story's weaker moments, a stunning CG would pop up that had me forgiving everything. i still glance through the gallery to this day.
number five - cupid parasite.
heroine: 9.5/10 story: 7/10 characters: 7/10 art: 9/10 enjoyability: 9/10 favorite characters: ryuki keisaiin (junya enoki) & gill lovecraft (kimura ryouhei)
iconic. showstopping. a little bit camp.
cupid parasite stars one of my favorite heroines, lynette. she works as a bridal advisor whose ambition is to ensure everyone finds their soulmate. in actuality, she's the goddess cupid, who left her post in celestia to better understand humanity and create lasting pairs. she's a delight to play as.
this game's presentation and overall aesthetic is the most distinct from any otome game i've played. aside from the presentation, the story itself is unlike any of the others on this list. when it comes to romance, i typically prefer them to be dark and mature. this game opts for a more lighthearted approach. it vacillates between being a romcom and dipping into the absurdist genre. there were times i was literally left speechless (glances at gill's route)... but it makes for an entertaining experience. the game's plenty funny as well.
personally, i enjoyed the more grounded moments when the mythological elements remained in the background. because of this, the true ending doesn't do it for me as much as they do in other games. as with anything, this is a personal preference though. i liked all of the routes and found the game handles the development of each love interest well. we're introduced to these men at their most pathetic and get to help them become a little more well-adjusted. lowering the cringe meter, if you will. it makes their growth all the most satisfying as the narrative progresses.
number four - even if tempest.
heroine: 9/10 story: 8.5/10 characters: 8/10 art: 6/10 enjoyability: 9/10 favorite characters: the heroine herself, tyril i lister (noriaki sugiyama), crius castlerock (makoto furukawa) and lucien neuschburn (kaito ishikawa)
right from the get-go, this game's premise had me hooked. it features the heroine, anastasia (<3!), who leads an incredibly tragic life. she's bestowed the ability to reverse time following each of her deaths and uses this to unravel a mess of mysteries the world's setting is tangled in.
this game is absolutely anastasia's story. without spoiling anything, i loved the approach they took with the time rewinding ability. how it's incorporated is unique to an otome game, which they take full advantage of to amplify the tragic romances. on that note, the romance itself occasionally takes a backseat to the narrative as a whole. personally, i didn't mind this in the moment, since i found the story so interesting. in retrospect, i do wish that we got more moments between the heroine and each love interest, especially in the true ending.
there are more gameplay elements here as well. you have to conduct investigations, gather evidence, and apply what you've learned during these trial segments. when i first read about this, i thought it'd be a gimmick, but i liked playing through them. it incentivizes you to pay extra close attention to the world.
while i liked the narrative as a whole, i do wish we got more worldbuilding. there are hints of political subterfuge and religious oligarchy that, while touched upon, could've been leaned into more to give the setting a distinct feeling.
number three - olympia soiree
heroine: 8/10 story: 8/10 characters: 8/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: akaza (yoshitsugu matsuoka), himuka (shun horie), and yosuga (yuma uchida)
in olympia soirée, the eponymous heroine, olympia, lives in a society divided into castes based on colors. she is the last surviving member of a clan that can perform rituals to keep the sun aglow. this game is a lengthier title, i believe i clocked in around 25 ish hours (i don't use auto-play so that sheds some time). the story benefits from this, as olympia has rich worldbuilding and lore that's revealed throughout the route's progression.
we get to see the consequences of this caste system and olympia's growth as she becomes determined to realize a better future for the islands. this makes the heroine someone that you want to root for. personally, i'm a sucker for stories that center around a sheltered individual being forced to face the harsh realities of the world and maturing in their own way. this, paired with the struggles specific to this setting, make for a gripping backdrop for the character's routes. all the love interests have problems of their own that they need to address.
this is certainly a mature title, there's plenty of steamy scenes featuring gorgeous artwork. seriously... all the pretty CGs are absolute eye candy. i enjoyed the balance between the main narrative and the development of the romantic relationships, i don't remember ever feeling bored.
ironically enough, i think this is the darkest game from the bunch listed here, surpassing the game with actual horror elements. there's a whole litany of trigger warnings to be mindful of when going through the game's bad ends. they are, as the term suggests, Bad. not light or humorous in the slightest. the poor heroine goes through it. please be mindful of these more touchy subjects.
number two - 9 r.i.p
heroine: 8/10 story: 8/10 characters: 9/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: minami (nobuhiko okamoto), hibiki (shunichi toki), kureha (toshiki masuda), and koyo (ryota suzuki)
i was looking forward to the english localization of this game before it was even announced ... i'd been wanting an otome game with this vibe for ages. and it didn't disappoint! there are four different overarching story sections, with two characters each having their routes fall under them. this makes it difficult to give a summary since each route has a vastly different feel. some routes lean heavy into supernatural horror (such as hibiki and kureha), whereas others are just... supernatural (like with yukimaro and koharu).
the basic premise is that the main character, misa, is a high school girl burdened with her career survey. she's uncertain what she wants for the future and is being pressured by his mother to pursue a career in medicine. in one way or another, depending on the story section, she comes into contact with the afterlife and those who inhabit it.
i loved this game, i couldn't put it down. the routes that leaned heavy into horror were my favorites, which shouldn't be a surprise lol. i do feel some love interests were given preferential treatment of others, i wanted more from sena's storyline in particular, since he's voiced by one of my favorite VAs (tetsuya kakihara, the voice of scaramouche) 😭... apparently this game is receiving a fandisc, so hopefully they'll remedy that in the future.
minami stole the show for me. from what i've gauged online, he's a divisive character, you either find him grating or love him (like i do). i'm biased but i do think he has the most interesting and well-written story out of the love interests, i've played through it three times already. i just adored the dynamic between him and the heroine. he's petulant, selfish, and a bit immature, yet he goes to extremes for her as he realizes his unhinged feelings.
hibiki is a close second. the most yandere-coded of the bunch, he's soft-spoken and polite, but that exterior hides a creepy personality. like all of the characters in this game, there's a tragic element to him. i was worried about the role the heroine would play in helping him 'overcome' this, but i think they handled it well. it doesn't feel like the heroine's fixing him so much as she's helping him have a different perspective on certain events.
yeah i'm not normal about this game, i cannot recommend it enough. it would've taken the top slot if some of the routes were a bit more polished. i didn't care for yukimaro's at all, for example. routes like minami's, hibiki's, and koyo's more than make up for it though.
number one - collar x malice
heroine: 10/10 story: 10/10 characters: 10/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: takeru sasazuka (daisuke namikawa), kei okazaki (yuki kaji), and aiji yanagi (masakazu morita)
the holy grail. the otome games that died for our sins. this isn't just a good otome game, it's an excellent story, with a very human cast, commentary on issues like the nature of crime, and you're left wanting to solve the various mysterious as much as the heroine does. speaking of the heroine, miss hoshino ichika is my all-time favorite heroine. she's clever, resolute, compassionate, and you can't help but fall in love with her a little yourself 😭😭
i'm not sure if this makes sense, but the world feels very... full? you get this sense that ichika exists outside just interacting with the love interests. she has her career, friends, and her younger brother that act as more than passing NPCs. the writers ensured all the characters with portraits are given some level of depth. i left caring about more characters than the heroine and love interests.
each route is dedicated to working through a certain case, which keeps the story intriguing as you progress. finally, all of the little hints that have been littered throughout coalesce into the 'true' route, where questions you've had since the first chapter are given satisfactory conclusions. at the same time, you're left wondering about a few things, such as the complete philosophy of the main antagonist.
ichika's relationship with each of the love interests develops alongside the case they're investigating, which almost always have connections or parallels to the LI's past. this helped ground them in reality and flesh them out into dynamic characters. you come to care deeply about them alongside ichika. the romance feels earned and doesn't come on too fast, which some otome games suffer from.
if you like otome games and haven't played collar x malice yet, i fully recommend it!!!!!!!! it's the strongest title from what i've played so far.
#CxM my goat 👑#it's my first switch otome lol#EiT is definitely my fave of all of these ngl#I haven't played 9RIP yet since it's new but I can't wait :)
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between the ride and the roses (3)
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff
Word count: 3.8k
Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.
Chapter Warnings: argument, jungkook is mean, OC is mean. both have high egos.
A/N: part 3 is here <3 i'm having sm fun writing this. also, i got this anonymous ask which stated i was using chat-gpt for my stories. i didn't like the tone of their message so i blocked them. however, i just want to say i have not used chat-gpt for my stories. i take time out of my day to type this story because i really want to put content out there that people might enjoy reading. i want to make stories that i have always wanted to read, but never found. truthfully, i did use chat gpt for the names of a few flowers, plants and bouquet combinations though, because i'm not a professional florist and i have no idea about flowers. i hope that's understandable. anyways, thank u for reading. let me know your thoughts :)
part 3: blooming grudges
The sun is setting, painting the street in hues of orange and pink, but the peace you’re so badly yearning for is shattered by the rumble of motorcycles and boisterous laughter right outside your shop. It’s been a week since Jungkook’s shop had started running and it has surprisingly quickly become a hotspot for bikers to gather in the evenings. The constant noise and chaos spill over into your once-quiet corner of the neighborhood.
You have no idea what they do and what the point of all these gatherings are, but you dread it every single time you hear a bunch of men lounging outside your shop.
As the evening progresses, you’re in the middle of arranging a bouquet when the sharp crash of breaking pottery jolts you out of your work. Heart pounding, you glance outside and see one of Jungkook’s biker friends near the sidewalk through your window. Still confused, you stand up and storm out to see what the hell had happened.
Anger surges through your veins as you spot the man casually standing there as if he didn’t just knock over one of your handmade ceramic pots off the display stand that was right outside your shop. “What the hell is wrong with you??!!?!” you snap, glaring at the man and then at the jagged pieces of your pot just lying there, near his feet.
The biker barely spares you a glance, shrugging nonchalantly. “Relax. It’s just a pot.” he says.
“Just a pot?” you repeat, your voice rising. “Do you have any idea how much time and effort went into that? Or do you only care about things you can rev or ride?” you feel your heart thumping as your anger skyrockets.
Before the man can respond, Jungkook suddenly steps out of the crowd near his shop. His leather jacket gleams in the fading light, and his dark eyes flicker to the broken pot before landing on you. “What’s going on?” he questions, his voice low and calm, but there’s an edge of warning to it.
You point at the shards of pottery. “What’s going on? One of your friends just broke my pot and doesn’t even have the decency to apologize!” Jungkook looks at his friend, who just shrugs, then back at you. “It was an accident.” he dismisses, his tone clipped. “I’ll pay for it.” he continues and you watch his friend just leave the scene, completely unbothered.
You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Pay for it? Do you think that solves everything? This isn’t just about the pot, Jungkook. Every night, this street turns into a circus because of your shop. My customers can’t park anymore, and now your friends are trashing my things.” you begin, moving your hands as you speak, unable to remain calm anymore.
His jaw tightens, and he takes a step closer. “Look, I’m sorry about the pot, but don’t act like I’m the reason your shop isn’t doing well. Maybe it’s not the noise. Maybe people just don’t care about overpriced flowers.”
Your breath catches, his words cutting deeper than you expect. “Wow,” you say, your voice trembling with anger. “You really think you’re better than everyone, don’t you? Just because you’ve got your flashy bikes and your little gang of followers?” you ignore the way your heart twitches at how he had just disrespected you and your business.
His expression hardens. “Better than everyone? No. But at least I’m not the one blaming other people for my problems. You’re so focused on what’s wrong with my shop, but maybe the issue isn’t me. Maybe it’s you.”
Your fists clench at your sides. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been here for years, building this business from the ground up. And you waltz in, turning this neighborhood into a mess, and act like you’re doing everyone a favor?” you see red as you fight with him, unable to contain the flow of words that are spilling out of your mouth.
Jungkook’s voice sharpens and he doesn’t hold back. “You think I don’t work hard? That I haven’t sacrificed everything to make this shop work? You don’t know anything about me. But sure, keep throwing stones from your little glass house.” he counters harshly.
“Oh so you can say anything about my business, but i can’t? You can talk about me like you know me, but i can’t?” There’s venom in your voice as you argue and Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying to calm himself down.
The tension between the two of you is suffocating and each word cuts like a blade. As an awkward silence fills the air, you shake your head. “You’re unbelievable.” you breathily say. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself.” you add.
“And you...” he fires back, “care so much about your damn shop that you can’t see past your own damn ego.” You look at him with your lips parted, unable to come up with a comeback. You feel your eyes sting and nothing makes sense anymore. You hate it here. You hate him.
Before you can respond, one of the bikers calls out to Jungkook, and he turns away, his shoulders tense. He doesn’t bother looking back at you and just leaves.
Fuming, you crouch down to pick up the broken shards of your pot. Your hands tremble as you scoop up the jagged pieces, and a sharp piece slices right through your finger. You hiss, dropping the shard as blood wells up from the cut. Your eyes tear up as you watch your finger bleed. You were so done with this man and his stupid shop.
Ignoring the sting, you finish cleaning up and head back inside, pressing a tissue to your finger. You flip the sign on your door, deciding to call it a day since you weren’t really in the mood to face any new customers. You retreat to your counter, where you slump into your chair, frustrated, exhausted and seething.
//
Inside Throttle and Torque, the atmosphere is much quieter, now that the bikers have left. Jungkook leans against the counter, his expression stormy as he thinks of the interaction he had with you 4 hours ago. Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok sit nearby, watching him with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement.
“You look like you’re about to punch something.” Jimin says, breaking the silence. Jungkook scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s that flower shop owner again. She’s impossible.”
“Y/N?” Hoseok grins. “What did she do this time?” he questions. Jungkook glares at him. “One of the guys broke her pot, and she went off like it was the end of the world. Then she starts blaming me for everything—says I’m ruining the whole street. Like it’s my fault her shop isn’t getting customers.” he speaks, his tone filled with annoyance.
“Isn’t it, though?” Jimin teases, earning a sharp look from Jungkook. Yoongi, raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like there’s more to it than just a pot.” he states.
“She doesn’t get it hyung...” Jungkook says, his voice growing louder. “She acts like she’s the only one who works hard, like I haven’t busted my ass to get this place running. And then she has the nerve to call me selfish? Like she knows anything about me.”
“Sounds like she hit a nerve.” Hoseok snorts, a smirk on his face. “Shut up,” Jungkook mutters, but the irritation in his voice betrays him. “She thinks she’s so perfect, but all she does is complain. It’s like she’s looking for reasons to hate me.” he rolls his eyes.
“Maybe she is.” Yoongi says, his tone thoughtful. “Or maybe you’ve already given her enough reasons to hate you.” he continues. The room falls silent, and Jungkook scoffs, pushing off the counter. “Whatever. She’s not worth it.” he dismisses, not wanting to think of you or the raging encounter he just had with you.
//
the next day; The morning sun spills through the large windows of your flower shop as you rearrange a fresh batch of chrysanthemums. Despite the beautiful blooms around you, there’s a heaviness in your heart. Last night’s argument with Jungkook replays in your mind, his sharp words still stinging.
The little bell above the door jingles, pulling you out from your trance. You turn to see a man walking in—a face you recognize from the group that always lingers outside Jungkook’s shop and sometimes with him as well. “Hi.” he says, his voice calm but kind. “Y/N, right?”
You blink in surprise. “Yeah… and you’re one of Jungkook’s friends, i suppose.” you say, moving away from the flowers as dry your hands on your apron. You notice how his eyes fall on the bandage wrapped around your finger, so you quickly hide it by crossing your arms over your chest. He pretends like he’s seen nothing and nods, his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I’m Yoongi. I came here because I wanted to talk to you, if you don’t mind.” he says, his voice tender.
Your instinct is to put up a wall, but something about his tone disarms you. “If this is about last night—”
“It is.” Yoongi interrupts gently. “But not in the way you think.” He steps closer, his gaze steady but non-threatening. “I’m here to apologize. On behalf of Jungkook. And… the idiot who broke your pot.”
You blink again, caught off guard. “You’re apologizing? Why?” you gulp, something about this, not sitting right with you. “Because he won’t.” Yoongi says with a faint smile, though his tone carries a hint of seriousness. “Jungkook’s stubborn. He knows he messed up, but he’s too proud to admit it outright. And, well, someone has to try to make things right.” he admits, blinking his eyes.
Yoongi observes your expression, noticing how you still look quite unconvinced. His face softens as he continues. “Jungkook’s not a bad guy, Y/N. He just… rough around the edges. Give him time. He doesn’t always know how to handle things. He gets defensive when he feels cornered.”
“Cornered?” you echo, frowning. “I wasn’t cornering him. I just wanted some peace.” you defend yourself. “I know.” Yoongi agrees. “And I think, deep down, he knows it too. But he’s been under a lot of pressure with the shop, and sometimes he lashes out without meaning to. Not that it excuses anything.” he adds quickly. “You didn’t deserve what he said. Or how he treated you. ”
His honesty surprises you, and for the first time, you feel a part of the weight lift off from your chest. “Why are you telling me this?” you suddenly ask, eyeing him even though, deep down you’re trying your best to believe everything this man says.
“Because I think you’re both better than this petty back-and-forth... interactions.” Yoongi says simply, shrugging. “And maybe, if you understand where he’s coming from, it’ll help. Or not. I don’t know. I just thought you deserved an actual apology, even if it’s not from him directly.” he finishes, flashing you a small, kind smile.
For a moment, you’re silent, processing his words. Then, to your own surprise, you smile faintly. “You’re a good friend, Yoongi.” you softly say, earning a chuckle from him as he scratches the back of his neck. “Someone’s gotta keep him in check.” he grins.
After a moment, he steps back towards the door, pausing before leaving. “Take care, Y/N. And if he steps out of line again, let me know. I’ll knock some sense into him.” he nods at you and you laugh lightly, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. “I’ll keep that in mind.” you say, waving at him.
//
Jungkook sits on the edge of the counter, a wrench in hand, intently focused as he works while Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi lounge around. The conversation flows between them, lighthearted at first, until Yoongi brings up his visit to your shop.
“So....” Yoongi begins casually, “I stopped by Y/N’s shop today.” he says. Jungkook freezes for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “What for?” he asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“To apologize.” Yoongi replies, leaning back in his chair. “On your behalf. Figured someone had to.” he adds. Jimin snickers, while Hoseok whistles low. “Apologizing for Jungkook? That’s new.” he laughs as Jimin gives him a high five.
“Very funny.” Jungkook mutters, but his attention stays on Yoongi. “What’d she say?” he questions and Yoongi shrugs. “She wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear your name, but we talked. She’s not as tough as she seems, you know. She’s just… tired. Your shop and the noise—it’s really messing with her.” he explains calmly.
Jungkook doesn’t reply, his jaw tightening. “And she’s hurt, by the way.” Yoongi adds, his tone sharper. “I noticed her hand. I guess she cut her finger while picking up the broken pieces of the pot your friend broke yesterday.” he explains.
The guilt that had been simmering in Jungkook since last night, suddenly boils over. “Why didn’t she say anything?” he snaps, more to himself than to his friends. “Maybe because you were too busy arguing with her to notice,” Yoongi retorts, his voice calm but firm. “She’s not your enemy, Jungkook. Stop treating her like one.” he says gently, hoping the younger one understands.
The room goes quiet, the weight of Yoongi’s words settling over them. Jimin and Hoseok exchange a glance, sensing the tension. Jungkook exhales heavily, tossing the wrench aside. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.” he admits quietly. “I just—” He stops, frustration lacing his voice.
“You don’t know how to back down,” Jimin finishes for him, a teasing edge to his tone. Jungkook glares at him but doesn’t deny it. Instead, he leans back against the counter, running a hand through his hair. “What else did she say to you?” he questions Yoongi. He smirks slightly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asks, wiggling his brows.
Jungkook’s glare intensifies, and Yoongi chuckles. “Relax. She was civil. We just talked about you a little and that’s all. She thinks I’m the ‘good friend,’ by the way.” he smiles to himself.
The comment makes Jungkook’s stomach churn with something he doesn’t want to name—guilt, jealousy, maybe both. He stays quiet as the others laugh, his thoughts swirling.
He’s messed up, and he knows it. And now, the thought of you opening up to someone else, even Yoongi, twists something deep inside him. For the first time, he wonders if the damage he’s caused can ever be repaired.
//
It’s just another day—or at least you hope it will be. After the pot-breaking incident a week ago, things between you and Jungkook have only grown tenser. Though Yoongi apologized to you on behalf of his actions, you were still very annoyed by the way things still hadn’t changed.
His friends still gather outside his shop in the evenings, their bikes parked so close to your store it’s nearly impossible for customers to walk in without squeezing past them. You’ve been trying to keep your head down, avoiding any unnecessary interaction with Jungkook.
However, despite the ongoing tension you can’t help but notice how hardworking Jungkook is. For a brief moment, you feel a twinge of guilt as you think about the bad blood between you guys. Maybe you need to start putting your differences aside and try to get along with him.
You shake your head, telling yourself not to think about that. You leave that thought for another day, when you’re less busy and have more time to waste.
A new shipment of flowers and pots arrives after about an hour. You’re juggling the chaos of directing the delivery workers when disaster strikes. One of the crates slips from a worker’s hands, scattering flowers and dirt all across the curb—and, unfortunately, onto one of the shiny motorcycles parked outside Jungkook’s shop.
You barely have time to assess the mess before Jungkook storms out. His face is a mask of irritation, and his voice cuts like a blade. “What the hell is this?” he immediately snaps, gesturing at the scattered soil and dirt-streaked bike.
You sigh, already bracing yourself. “It was an accident. We’ll clean it up right away.” you calmly say, knowing damn well this wasn’t something you were about to get to away with. “An accident?” he repeats, his tone laced with disbelief. “You really need to start taking responsibility, Y/N. You can’t just keep saying it’s an accident every time you screw something up.” he angrily says.
Your frustration bubbles over. “Excuse me? This is the first time I’ve caused any inconvenience to you. Meanwhile, your friends park their bikes outside my shop every evening, blocking the entrance, and I don’t say a thing!” you argue.
“Oh, here we go...” Jungkook retorts, his voice rising. “You’re always whining about the bikes. Maybe if you managed your deliveries better, this wouldn’t have happened.” he scoffs loudly.
“Don’t turn this on me!!” you snap, stepping closer. “You act like this street belongs to you and your gang of bikers. Maybe if you had a little consideration for others, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation!” you stomp your feet at the last word, wanting this interaction to just end. But were you going to be the first one to stop? no.
Jungkook’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might say something even harsher. But he just shakes his head, his expression dark. “You know what? Forget it. Clean up your mess and stay out of my way.” He coldly says as he turns around and walks back into his shop, leaving you standing there with your hands clenched into fists.
//
After the chaos of the day, you’re sitting in your shop long after closing time, staring blankly at the broken pieces of another pot that lays lifeless on a piece of paper on your counter —a casualty of the earlier mishap. You close your eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.
Yoongi’s voice echoes in your mind from the other day, when he’d come into your shop to apologize on Jungkook’s behalf after the first pot-breaking incident. “Jungkook’s not a bad guy.” Yoongi had said, his voice calm and reassuring. “He’s just… rough around the edges. Give him time.”
You had wanted to believe him. For a moment, you even thought there might be a chance for you and Jungkook to coexist peacefully. But now? Now you feel stupid for ever entertaining the idea. Jungkook has made it perfectly clear that he has no intention of meeting you halfway.
You sigh, rubbing your face. You didn’t like how this whole thing had been affecting you. It was draining and just sooooo not worth it.
Forcing yourself to get up, you clean up one last time and then proceed to lock up the shop, so that you can finally head home. As you begin your walk home, you notice how the streets are quiet, the faint hum of distant traffic is the only sound accompanying your footsteps.
Your thoughts are heavy, clouded by everything that’s happened. The arguments, the pot-breaking, the way Jungkook’s words today had stung more than you wanted to admit. You wonder if you’re overthinking things, but the lump in your throat says otherwise.
You hug your jacket tighter against the cool night air, eyes focused on the pavement in front of you as you walk briskly towards your house.
//
Jungkook stands outside his shop, ready to lock up he watches you walk down the stairs at your entrance and cross the road, not noticing his presence at all. His chest feels tight, an unfamiliar mix of guilt and something he can’t quite name. He doesn’t like how things escalated today. He doesn’t like the way your voice cracked when you argued with him.
As much as he hates to admit it, he knows he’s been unfair. It wasn’t just about the dirt on the bike or the delivery mishap—it was the way you stood up to him, pointing out how inconsiderate he and his friends had been. You weren’t wrong.
He steps away from his shop, just to get a clearer view of your walking form. He watches intently, observing the way your shoulders are hunched slightly as if the weight of the world rests on them. The sight stirs something protective in him. It’s late, the streets are too quiet, and he knows better than anyone the kind of dangers that can lurk around in the dark.
For a split second, he considers calling out to you so that he can offer you a ride home. But then his pride kicks in, the argument from earlier replaying in his head. His ego won’t let him take that step—not yet.
Instead, Jungkook makes a quick decision. He leaves his bike parked outside his shop, shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and starts following you from a distance. You walk briskly, your mind elsewhere, completely unaware of the quiet footsteps trailing behind you. Jungkook keeps his distance, making sure to stay out of your line of sight.
His gaze scans the dimly lit street, the quiet unnerving even to him. He can’t help but feel protective as he watches your small frame move through the shadowy paths. Every now and then, he glances around, hyper-aware of his surroundings.
He follows you for several blocks, his pace matching yours but always a few steps behind. When you pause to adjust the strap of your bag or check the time on your phone, he stops, leaning casually against a lamppost or pretending to examine something in a shop window.
You finally reach your building, pausing to fumble with your keys at the front door. Jungkook stays back, watching as you disappear inside. Only when he hears the click of the door locking do his shoulders relax slightly. He lets out a long breath, rubbing his nape as he turns to head back towards his shop.
As he walks back, his mind is restless. He thinks he’s ridiculous for following you all the way home just to make sure you reach safely. “Why do you care so much?” he mutters to himself, kicking a loose pebble on the sidewalk. But he already knows the answer, even if he’s not ready to admit it.
When he finally reaches his shop, his bike still waiting where he left it, Jungkook glances once more in the direction of your shop. A strange mixture of guilt and something warmer lingers in his chest. He doesn’t know what to do about it, so he just sighs, climbs onto his bike, and decides to head home.
While he rides back home that night, a quiet resolve settles in his chest—a growing realization that maybe, just maybe, he owes you more than just a silent apology.
<- part 2 // part 4->
#jungkook fic#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#bts#bts jungkook#bts fic#enemies to lovers#jungkook fanfiction
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His pink roses.. ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ part 1.
I saw an instagram reel that inspired me to write this. Listened to Lana del Rey the entire time i was writing…
A/N: Was originally meant to be smut with no plot, but part 2 will have smut.
His pink roses.. ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ mood board!
Pairing: Afab!reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley.
Summary: Gaz asks Simon to be one of his groomsmen at his wedding (along with the rest of TF141), but he has to walk down the isle with another woman as Gaz’s wife doesn’t know you as well. You and Simon are in an established relationship, and he doesn’t realise how much this makes you jealous.
Warnings: language, hints of angst at some parts?, alcohol consumption, afab!reader, dismissive and slightly argumentative Simon (at first), reader is insecure.
You turn your head as the groomsmen walk down the wedding isle, each with a bridesmaid hanging on their arm, each man sporting a tux that matched the pretty pink dress that the women wore. Every bridesmaid had a small bunch of dusty pink roses, all bundled together in the end to make the bride's bouquet. It was beautiful, a sight to be seen, and you were so happy for Gaz, he was always so nice to you since Simon had - reluctantly - introduced you to the rest of the task force. But you couldn't help but bite the inside of your cheek as you saw him, your Simon, walking down the aisle with a dainty woman hanging off his arm. The ugly green monster had poisoned you, it was inevitable. You didn't know why you were so deeply jealous, your stomach threatening to flip at the sight. You knew it wasn't as if Simon had chosen for this to happen, he would much rather have you on his arm if he could. It was just that you had barely met Gaz's fiancé before, so didn't have enough relations with her to be a bridesmaid. You didn't hate her for it at all, it was just a bit annoying that Simon had to step up for his own role, never letting down his team for anything, war or not.
You watched as they made their way down the isle and, finally, separated to their opposing sides. The wedding was pretty, the bride looking like an angel up there with her gorgeous white dress, frilled lacing around the hems and a long train that delicately laid on the floor. The couple exchanged vows and kissed once told to, everyone cheering for them in high spirits. You tried to cover your previous feelings of jealousy and bitterness by smiling, managing to catch Simon's eye as you did this. Your smile faltered a little, and he raised his eyebrow slightly, as if he was asking 'what?' from the opposite side of the room to you. You just smiled slightly at him before getting up like everyone else to see the newly married couple out to the after party reception.
As you walked, unknowingly looking gorgeous in your light pink evening dress, a few of the supposedly single men near you gave a few looks and compliments which you begrudgingly yet kindly accepted. Not even a few moments later you felt the oh so familiar feeling of Simon's hands snaking around your waist, his larger figure guiding you instinctively.
"What did they want?" He asked instantly, already feeling protective over you.
"What? Oh, they just said they liked my dress." You say, twisting their words a little to save an argument.
"Bullshit." He replies with a flat tone, his hands still possessively round your waist.
"Don't." You say gently, almost warning him, both of you walking now into the main room where all the guests mingled and socialised whilst Gaz and his wife prepared to cut their cake.
"Don't what?" He says, almost sarcastically. Too sarcastic for your liking. So you decide to change the subject in means of retaliating.
"You two looked nice together." You say, referring to him and the bridesmaid whom he had to walk down the isle with.
"Who?" He asks, oblivious.
"Her." You say, pointing her out, she was talking to a few of the other groomsmen near the buffet table.
He laughs a little, not picking up on your subtle tone of annoyance. But when he doesn't hear you laugh, he looks at you, your facial expression neutral.
"Oh come on, love. You can't be serious." He scoffs, his hands not on you at that moment, "You know I couldn't change anything, it's Gaz's wedding for God's sake. You know I didn't choose to do this myself."
You don't say anything, deciding you didn't want to argue, watching as the cake was cut. Simon takes note of this, his eyes following yours.
"She's pretty, isn't she?" You say, admiring the bride's dress and appearance. Simon immediately picked up on a hint of self depreciation, knowing that you were probably comparing yourself to her. It wasn't a secret that you weren't always confident in yourself, but you didn't like to talk about it with Simon. He always respected your wishes, still aware of your issue though.
Simon hummed in response, not really concentrating as he wrapped his arms around you again, his head resting on your shoulder.
"You're pretty. Unreal." He mumbles into your skin, pressing a few kisses on your collarbone and neck.
You didn't really react, just whispering a small 'thank you', before pulling away slightly. He didn't force you to stay in his arms, knowing what you were like sometimes.
You both ended up talking to lots of people, socialising for a while before you decided to get on the dance floor, tipsy after downing almost 3 tequila shots and a small handful of mixed drinks before that.
Simon sat and watched you from a distance, keeping an eye to make sure no one would try anything, and to make sure you wouldn't hurt yourself by accident. He loved watching you, not in a creepy way, but just admiring how lovely you were. Your dress complimented your figure perfectly, fitting tight like a glove. He was disheartened that you put yourself down so much. He saw that you were beautiful, but he could never seem to get you to believe his words when he complimented you.
After an hour or so, Simon decided that you were getting a little too unstable for his liking, and got you off the main floor, his arms holding you steady under your ribs. He sat you down on a chair gently, asking if you had had fun as he carefully undid the straps of your heels, his hands caressing your calves as he took your shoes off and carried them for you. When you said goodbye to everyone, he carried you outside to his car and put you in the passenger seat, doing your seatbelt for you, although you protested, pouting and saying that you could 'do it yourself'.
He laughed softly at you, "Whatever you say, baby” he kissed your lips sweetly.
He got in the driver's side and started the car, to drive you both back to his apartment.
#simon ghost riley#⋆˙⟡ { 🦢 }#cod mw2#*๑♡՞ { 🌙 }#ghost cod#simon riley x reader#simon riley#wedding#roses#pink#coquette#soft pink#vanilla girl#gentle#smut#simon riley smut#ghost smut
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I normally don't post anything about controversial subjects, but this time as one of the member in Love and Deepspace community, I wanted to speak up about this horrible issues going on currently.
I've been in the LnD community for a while, from February 2024 till now, it is sad that CN server is spreading hate about Sylus just because they think Sylus 'plagarized' Zayne. While in reality, I know damn well they most of them came back to the game BECAUSE OF SYLUS
Be fucking for real, no ML has been plagarizing any ML. I'm Malaysian Chinese, even me myself felt so embarassed for yall CHINESE PLAYERS to spread hate about one of our beloved. Imagine how devastated Sylus will be if he's real and when he knows this.
Fuck yall mean Sylus doesn't deserve to be famous because he was released late?? This is something that an uneducated people sounds like. I don't see yall hating on Caleb? Cuz tell me why yall want your ADOPTIVE BROTHER to be one of your love interest, its fucking weird. Not to be racist, but yall Chinese glorify that indirect sibling relationship as romance so much.
I will stand for Sylus bcuz he loves us just as much CN Sylus fans loves him. Imagine it's your fave ML, Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier getting hatred, would you guys want that? Seriously isn't Confucius our ancestors? What did he taught us? Yall should be ashame. TRULY AND REALLY, REALLY AND TRULY ASHAMED.
Sylus is the fucking reason LnD blows up. Yes, before he was released, we thought he is the villain in the storyline, but as we play through the game, we do realized he's actually a sweetheart, he is our beloved. But no, yall clearly wanna headcanon him as a red flag, he's a bad guy, he doesn't love MC. Excuse me, are we playing the same game?
It is clear, as we play the game, our first impression on different LIs is different, Sylus looks like he's a bad guy, a villain that likes forced love but actually someone who will do anything to us, no forcing us.
Zayne looks cold outside, but deep down he cared for MC so much, he's willing to love us in every single universe no matter Astra cursed him to not love us. He's warm inside.
Rafayel carefree and often bratty and petulant personality on the surface, but when he's with MC, his beloved, he can be childlish, whiny and all pouty.
Xavier looks like an honest boy, a golden retriever,acts clueless but he's the most possesive LI ever.
From all of this, didn't we already know, or obviously know that all LI have something beyond the surface? Don't villainize any of them for fuck sake. Pls use the brain.
No one is forcing anyone consume other's content, if you love Zayne, then look at Zayne's content, but if you love Sylus too, you as a Zayne main can go look at Sylus's content too, IT IS THAT SIMPLE.
Sylus didn't ruin us, as a Zayne main before, I can assure you, he didnt ruin me. It's just that I prefer Sylus because he is my type, I love his reassurance on Mc's insecurities, I wish I have someone like Sylus beside me, I still love Zayne regardless. It's called OTOME GAME for a REASON.
Please don't give up on defending our beloved as Sylus's fans. We love him and seems like we are the only one that knows him deeply.
If you're a player in LnD, we should stand together, no matter which character we love.
fuck CN antis
Humans doesnt want each other to enjoy A GAME in peace clearly speaks about how childlish we are as mankind. I don't see yall fighting for women's right that much since yall CN people likes Trump.
The post in the ss is from X user @sub_textually
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