#how is it that I got an answer and it leaves me with more questions than I had before… like what about ranboo?…. it doesn’t make sense….
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eldestdaughterdeans · 1 day ago
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i decided to try to find an answer to the question on everyone's mind: what scene is this about?? luckily the whole panel is transcribed on the supernatural wiki.
the full context and jensen's full answer:
Kim Manners (director of 1x16): [...] The scene, where the boys were arming up and Dean blows at Sam and says, “Why did you think I got you out of Stanford in the first place? Cause I want us to be family again.” Jensen had a tough time with that and we arm-wrestled over it and to get him there ‘cause Dean always got his walls up and to break down that wall for just a minute, to look at it, to look in Dean’s heart was magical for me. [...] Jensen: Yeah, sometimes I guess I can be a little protective of Dean and him showing emotions. As an actor, when you grow along with the character on the series, you become close to it, you protect it. I guess that’s probably why I was not real sure how much of the layers to peel away in that scene. I guess in that confusion I put up my own barrier and if there was anybody to get me through, it was Kim. So I’m glad he was there.
so jensen lost the 'he would not fucking say that' battle of the wills. however i think this is more along the lines of why jensen pushed back against dean saying "i love you" to cas in 8x17. the line is technically true, but an unrealistic degree of emotional disclosure.
bedlund similarly said of rewriting cas' monologue in 5x04: "To me that feels like a rewrite based on 'Okay, we know what the subtext is, bury it a little bit.'"
and imo, there's something to be said for leaving a little bit in the tank when it comes to big character revelations. pulling back on the verbal declarations in 5x04 and 8x17 left the writers and the actors a lot of room to explore and develop dean and cas' relationship. shoot the entire proverbial wad too soon and you run the risk of having nowhere else to go creatively.
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this is the interview he gave in the middle of filming season 1. this man will never be normal about Dean <3
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prozacwhorehouse · 2 days ago
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paparazzi | mgg x SNL cast member gf
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Summary: comments from the paparazzi instill doubt in you, but Matthew is there as a voice of reason
this was a request but it got deleted when I was making edits so I hope this finds its way to that lovely person !
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pre and post show paparazzi outside the studio wasn’t uncommon. but when speculation that you and Matthew were dating blossomed, they got more incessant and difficult to ignore. it seemed as if they were always around, with the intention of spotting the two of you and documenting it. they were constantly nagging for answers and details about your relationship, most specifically mentioning the age gap.
the both of you knew it’d would be hard for some people to understand, but the idea that you were both legal consenting adults seemed more logical and would be accepted easier. originally, you had kept the relationship private - wanting the intimate moments to be kept to yourselves, only for yourselves. eventually the love becomes to great to hide, so you started dropping hints to the public. hints weren’t enough, there were always the small few who liked to dig a little deeper, push sensitive buttons - almost always internet trolls, or worse, in person paparazzi.
no matter what, they’ll always jab at the age gap. it’s always flashing cameras followed by comments, from “your relationship is inappropriate” “she’s young enough to be your daughter” and even, “is you dating an older man rooted in daddy issues?”
a video of the interaction goes viral and all the comments are offering support for the two of you:
they are both consenting adults. those who can’t accept that need to grow up and mind their own business.
these poor angels. the paparazzi is disgusting, ill never understand why it’s still a thing
they’re both grown leave them the fuck alone
daddy issues?? holy shit. the pap is getting so much worse.
two talented people reduced to their relationship. do better
you knew accepting a job on television came with its consequences, but you weren’t going to let people who get paid to be nosy stand in the way of your dream. so, with time you had learned how to handle paparazzi with ease. what was typically praise now being sprinkled with hate, it got harder and harder to ignore.
because the more someone says something about you, the more you start to believe it.
why is he with me? is this weird? am i wrong? is he wrong?
Whenever Matthew happened to be with you during these paparazzi incidents, he’d always guide you through the crowd by the small of your back or your hand. Weaving through people wordlessly, only whispering assurances into your ear, squeezing your hand to calm your heart beating in your ears.
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The whole ride home to your apartment is silent. With Matthew, you two are always talking, always sharing thoughts, making the occasional silence reason for concern.
“Are you okay? You din’t say more than a word or two at a time not the way home,” he says while shutting the apartment door behind him.
“Are we, wrong?” you turn to gaze up at him through your lashes, the look on your face hurt.
“What do you mean, angel?” he croons, concern and confusion blossoming across his face.
“Like,” you pause and scoff, trying to find the words for your question. “Is what we’re doing wrong. Being together.”
“Do you not want to do it anymore? Cause we don’t have to-” his face turns to worry, your heart dropping at the thought of him thinking you’d say anything other than no. because no matter what anyone says, he’s so in love with you he can’t even imagine losing you.
“no! oh my gosh, no.” you’re quick to assure, holding his face in your hands. it’s just exhausting. why are they so concerned with our lives? can they not just-“
“you love me?” he interrupts, looking at you intently.
“what?” you scoff in disbelief, pulling back slightly. “of course I do - why?”
“because I love you. And that’s all that matters, yeah?” he brushes his thumb across your cheek, gazing into your eyes so lovingly. he always looks at you that way.
“It could be worse. They could be comparing me to Leonardo DiCaprio,” he smiles, causing the corners of your mouth to turn up, “and I’m definitely not DiCaprio level.”
“If you were, you would’ve dropped me when I turned 25,” you snicker and he sighs, throwing his head back.
“You’re funny, you know that?”
“I’d hope so. It’s kind of my job.”
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mgg x SNL cast member taglist
@sarcasm-and-stiles @mystargirl-interlude @rubyirene @ashrrams @ghostatrixx @forevermorepassionate @saint-boudica @reidmarieprentiss @awakeforu @spencerlicious @kittycat-april @baudarling @delusional-4-fake-people @avenlymars @angelinajolie0213 @arusio @littleslayofhorrors @jezabelle9299 @jaemnationnn @princess-ofthe-pages @flow33didontsmoke
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bellbery · 1 day ago
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— The Heart That Remained (Vander x f!Reader)
Summary: A monster, once a beloved protector, now haunts the tunnels of Zaun. The creature is revealed to be Vander, twisted by pain and rage, leaving his daughters Vi and Jinx to grapple with the truth. As a battle unfolds, past memories and present dangers clash, forcing a choice between saving Vander’s humanity or ending his torment. Love, guilt, and hope intertwine in this intense, emotional confrontation.
Word Count: 5.2k (im a jerk for angst)
Content/Warning: Angst to Fluff, less mention y/n until the ending, a bit bloody?, AND VERY ANGSTY
🖋️ Author’s Note: AS I PROMISED I WOULD MAKE A ANGSTY FIC ABOUT VANDER, and i promise you its worth the while i did my best to put into detail of the character’s personality and the places. It took me 3 days and i’m very happy how it turned out! Before yall read this maybe someone you haven’t watched S2, there will be spoilers obv— and i recommend yall listen to Dead Island Trailer Theme song while reading this cause personally it juST MATCHED THE SCENE IT- i hope yall enjoy my writing this is my 2nd fic! Please comment your feedback and simply support me by like and reblogs! Thank you very much yall!<3
After the chaos of the Piltover Council meeting, guilt gnawed at you like a relentless, suffocating force. Deep down, you knew Jinx—Vander’s daughter—was the cause of the devastation that had torn through the heart of the city. You couldn’t escape the weight of the promises you’d made long ago: to protect Vi and Powder when they were still just children. Those vows now felt like shattered glass, each piece embedded in your soul. You had failed them. And now, hidden behind the mask of an investigator, you carried your shame like a cloak. It was the only armor that allowed you to survive, to push down the searing ache that never seemed to go away. Months passed, and you thought you had found your rhythm in the cold, distant monotony of your work. Then Ambessa hired you. The aftermath of the beast’s rampage in the prison—the blood, the carnage—shattered that fragile peace. It was the most grotesque thing you’d ever seen. The nightmare still burned in your memory, its horrors etched into your mind like permanent scars. The beast, its monstrous presence a cruel reminder of the violence lurking in every shadow, had torn through the fragile walls of your life, dredging up the dangerous ties to the past you couldn’t outrun.
“How could this beast come out of nowhere?” You whispered, the question hanging in the air like a death sentence. Ambessa’s gaze locked onto you, icy and unyielding. The weight of her authority pressed down on you, suffocating. She leaned forward, her voice low, controlled—laced with quiet menace. “You’re asking the wrong question,” she said, her words like a blade. “It doesn’t matter how it got here. What matters is that it’s here now. And we don’t have the luxury of waiting for answers. We deal with it. We don’t waste time wondering why or how—it’s already cost us too much.” She paused, her eyes narrowing, a flicker of impatience cutting through her otherwise steady demeanor. “If you want to stay in this game, you’ll find out who—or what—created this monster. And you’ll do it fast. Before it costs us more.” You nod, the weight of Ambessa’s words settling heavily in your chest. Without a second thought, you move past the cells, your gaze flicking over them with practiced detachment. You push down the swirling thoughts threatening to overwhelm you, focusing on the task at hand. But as you walk, something pulls your attention—a cell, its door locked with an unnerving sense of finality. Something about it doesn’t sit right, a tension building in your gut.
Before you can step closer to investigate, the soft, rhythmic chime of the elevator cuts through the silence. The doors slide open, and out steps Commander Caitlyn Kiramman, her posture rigid, her face set in the same steely expression you’ve come to recognize. She doesn’t glance at you immediately, but when she does, her eyes flicker with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “Commander,” you murmur, your voice steady but carrying the weight of the unspoken. You can’t help but wonder if she’s here to speak of the very thing that’s been gnawing at your thoughts—the beast, the violence, the past that refuses to stay buried. “How is your investigation?” Caitlyn’s voice was steady, her usual sternness masking the exhaustion you knew she carried. Her sharp blue eyes flicked over you, searching for any hint of progress. You hesitated, your gaze drifting back to the closed cell. “It’s… ongoing,” you replied, the words clipped, as your unease bubbled beneath the surface. She followed your line of sight, noticing your fixation. Without waiting for an invitation, Caitlyn strode past you, her footsteps purposeful, echoing in the silence as she approached the cell. “What is it about this one?” she asked, her tone even, though her curiosity was evident. You didn’t answer immediately, the heaviness in your chest growing. “It’s locked,” you said finally, the words feeling too small for the weight of your unease. “But it’s too quiet. Too… deliberate.” Caitlyn reached out, resting her hand lightly on the cold metal bars. “Let’s open it,” she said decisively, her command leaving no room for argument. The tension in her voice betrayed her own unease, though her face remained calm and unreadable.
As the cell door creaked open, the air grew heavy with an acrid, chemical tang. There, sitting upright in the dim light, was a figure that made your breath hitch—Dr. Reveck. His sunken, hollow eyes locked onto yours, recognition flashing briefly across his face. Then came the cold, calculating glare of someone who had already weighed and dismissed your worth. “You’re persistent,” he murmured, his voice low and rasping, as though it hadn’t been used in days. “But persistence doesn’t make you immune to mistakes.” His lips twitched, a ghost of a smile that never reached his eyes. “What are you here for? To make another mistake?” Before you could respond, Caitlyn’s sharp footsteps echoed through the corridor, her tone cutting the tension. “Dr. Reveck,” she began, her words laced with authority, “you’re going to answer for what you’ve done. Whatever experiments you’ve been running—whatever monsters you’ve unleashed—it ends now.” Reveck’s expression didn’t waver, though his gaze shifted to Caitlyn with a disconcerting calm. “Answers,” he said, almost mockingly. “The only people who demand them are those too weak to seek the truth themselves.” The sudden clang of metal doors opening at the end of the hall signaled Ambessa’s arrival. Her towering figure filled the space, the weight of her presence silencing any retort Caitlyn might have had. Her eyes swept the scene before resting on Reveck. “This is the man responsible?” she asked, her voice an authoritative rumble. Reveck tilted his head slightly, observing Ambessa with a detached curiosity. “And you are?” he asked, his tone clinical, as though dissecting her existence. Ambessa took a step closer, her imposing frame making the cramped cell feel even smaller. “I’m the one deciding whether you’re worth keeping alive,” she said, her voice unwavering. “And right now, you’re not making a good case.”
The tension in the room was palpable, your pulse pounding in your ears as you stood frozen, caught between these forces of will. Caitlyn glanced at you, her expression tight, as if silently willing you to act or speak. Dr. Reveck finally turned back to you, his gaze sharper now, as though seeing past your mask of authority to the pain you’d been carrying. “Tell me,” he said softly, almost conversationally, “are you here to find answers, or are you just running from your own failures?” Before you could answer Dr. Reveck’s cutting remark, the sharp clink of handcuffs broke the silence. Caitlyn had stepped forward, her features stern as she clasped the restraints over Reveck’s thin wrists. “You’ll answer for your crimes,” she said coldly. “But your cooperation might still buy you a sliver of mercy.” Reveck barely flinched, his pale eyes darting between Caitlyn and Ambessa as if calculating the odds of survival. He let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Mercy,” he echoed, his voice dripping with disdain. “A curious word coming from Piltover’s enforcers. Tell me, Commander Kiramman—how does mercy reconcile with the blood already on your hands?” Caitlyn’s jaw tightened, but before she could reply, Ambessa’s voice rumbled from behind her. “Enough.” Her tone brooked no argument as she stepped into the cell, her towering figure filling the cramped space. “Your investigation isn’t finished here,” she said, her eyes locking onto yours with a commanding weight. “You’ve uncovered the man, but not the monster.”
Reveck’s lips curled faintly, a reaction as subtle as it was unsettling. “The beast,” he murmured, as though savoring the word. “You think you’re hunting it, but it’s already closer than you realize. Closer than any of you would dare admit.” Ambessa ignored him, her gaze still fixed on you. “Find it,” she said firmly. “Before this trail goes cold and more lives are lost.”
Reveck’s smile widened slightly, his voice taking on a cryptic edge. “And when you find it,” he said, his tone almost taunting, “you might not like what you uncover.” The weight of his words hung heavy in the air as you exchanged a brief, tense glance with Caitlyn. Without another word, Ambessa turned and walked toward the cell door, her presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Caitlyn followed, her hand lingering on her holstered weapon as if still on edge. You stayed behind for a moment longer, your gaze locked with Reveck’s, searching for something in his unflinching expression—a hint of truth, or maybe just an answer you weren’t ready to face.
You stepped out of the cell, the cold air biting against your skin. The echo of Ambessa’s commanding words and Reveck’s cryptic warnings swirled in your head, mixing with Caitlyn’s sharp presence. Every step away from the cell felt heavier, the pressure of what you’d just witnessed settling into the pit of your stomach. Reveck’s words wouldn’t leave you. “You think you’re hunting it, but it’s already closer than you realize.” They repeated in your mind like a haunting refrain, twisting your thoughts into knots. What did he mean? And why did it feel like there was more truth in his taunts than anyone cared to admit? The sterile prison corridor seemed darker now, its shadows crawling up the walls like something alive. A prickle of unease traced up your spine. For a moment, you paused, glancing back at the dim outline of the cell. It felt as though something—or someone—was watching. The air was too quiet, heavy with an unsaid warning. You shook your head and looked down, trying to steady your breaths, but your heart stopped cold. There, lying on the cold, stone floor just ahead of you, was a strand of blue hair. It glimmered faintly in the pale light, its color unmistakable. Powder. Your knees threatened to buckle, but you forced yourself to stay upright. A rush of memories flooded back—her laughter, her wide, curious eyes, the promises you made to her and Vi. And then the explosion, the chaos, and everything that came after. Your breathing quickened as you knelt down and gingerly picked up the strand, its texture soft but alien, almost too delicate for something so steeped in blood and tragedy. How did it get here? And why now?
The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly before you, the walls pressing in tighter. Your pulse thundered in your ears as a hundred questions screamed in your mind, all vying for answers. But one thought rose above them all, clear and sharp as a knife:
She was here.
And if she was here, then what had you missed? What was waiting just beyond the next shadow? You clutched the strand tighter, a knot of fear and determination tightening in your chest. You couldn’t let this go. Not now. Not after everything. With trembling hands and racing thoughts, you turned and walked toward the exit, but every step away from that cell felt like stepping deeper into the unknown.
You pulled your coat tighter around you, the cool night air biting at your skin. Your feet moved again, this time carrying you toward Zaun. If there was even the faintest chance she was there, you had to follow it. Whether you were ready or not, the path ahead was clear. You had to find her. And this time, you couldn’t fail. You had been at it for hours—no, days—piecing together fragments of evidence that felt more like whispers in the dark. Each lead took you deeper into Zaun’s underbelly: a blood trail smeared across cracked pavement, scorch marks that didn’t belong, and the eerie testimonies of those too afraid to say much at all. The closer you got, the more everything started pointing to one place. You’d seen the tunnel marked on old maps of Zaun—a forgotten artery deep within the district, barely mentioned anymore except in hushed tones. Something had happened there, something people were afraid to talk about. Standing at its mouth now, you could feel the weight of the place pressing on you like a physical force. The green chemfog swirled thickly, the heavy air carrying a stench of rust, decay, and something faintly metallic. It was quiet, unnervingly so, the usual hum of Zaun’s machinery conspicuously absent. You stepped forward cautiously, every instinct screaming at you to turn back. But the faintest trace of blood along the ground caught your attention, leading you further in. Whatever had been here—or was still here—wasn’t human. And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just a hunt for a monster. This was something personal, a shadow from your past reaching out to drag you back. As you stood at the edge of the tunnel, Dr. Reveck’s voice echoed in your mind, his words heavy with warning.
“You think you’re hunting it, but it’s already closer than you realize.”
The memory of his cold, detached tone sent a shiver down your spine. You tried to brush it off, focus on the task at hand. But it wasn’t easy. There was something about the way he’d looked at you, almost pitying, that gnawed at your resolve.
“You might not like what you uncover.”
The blood trail led further into the shadows, growing thicker, fresher. Each step you took seemed to confirm the truth of his cryptic warning. This wasn’t just a trail—it was a trap, a path carved by something that knew you’d follow. Despite yourself, fear clawed at the edges of your mind. You gripped your weapon tightly, the sound of your own breathing loud in the suffocating silence. If Dr. Reveck was right, if it was closer than you realized, then maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t the beast you were hunting anymore. Your heart pounded in your chest as you ventured deeper into the tunnel, every nerve on edge. The oppressive darkness seemed alive, pressing down on you as if the walls themselves wanted to swallow you whole. Then, breaking through the suffocating silence, you heard it—a voice. A familiar cry echoed through the hollow passage, carrying a name you hadn’t heard in years.
“Powder.”
Your breath hitched, and without thinking, your feet carried you toward the sound. The cry was raw, desperate, and unmistakable. It clawed at the memories you’d buried deep—days spent in the smog-filled streets of Zaun, promises whispered in the dead of night. You turned a corner, and there they were. The sight stopped you cold. Vi was locked in a brutal struggle, her movements sharp and relentless as she fought the towering monstrosity before her. Jinx—no, Powder—was nearby, her chaotic energy radiating even in the chaos, her laughter twisted with something between joy and pain. The beast, its hulking form both animal and something far worse, loomed over them. You stood frozen for a moment, unable to reconcile the scene before you. The two sisters you had sworn to protect were here, together again, fighting a nightmare brought to life. This wasn’t just a fight—it was their fight. But as the beast’s roar shook the walls of the tunnel, you knew you couldn’t just stand there. Not this time. You swung your electro-baton again, sending a crack of electricity through the beast’s thick hide. It staggered back, growling low, but you were ready to strike again. Then, a voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like ages cut through the chaos, sharp and frantic.
“Y/N?”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned, breath catching. There, standing in front of you with wide, shocked eyes, was Jinx. But it wasn’t just her surprise that caught your attention—it was the frantic energy radiating from her as her gaze flickered between you and the monster. Before you could even process the situation, Vi’s voice rang out, filled with desperation. “Get out of the way!” she yelled, her eyes locking onto the beast just as it made a move in your direction. The words barely registered before you heard the guttural growl of the creature, its monstrous form lunging toward you, faster than you could react. Your instincts kicked in just in time as you dove to the side, pushing Jinx out of the way and out of the path of the beast. In the chaos of the moment, you felt a sharp pang in your chest—Jinx’s face, twisted with a mixture of fear and resolve, flashed in your mind for just a second. She wasn’t ready to lose him again. But the situation was slipping further from control, and you couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Before you could strike, a hand shot out, gripping your arm with surprising strength. You whirled around, heart pounding, only to find Powder standing there. Her eyes were wide, frantic, pleading. “Stop!” she cried, her voice desperate, barely above a whisper. But it was enough to freeze you in place, your pulse hammering in your ears. The world seemed to slow as Powder’s frantic cry echoed in your mind.
“It’s Vander.”
For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The name hung in the air, shattering everything you thought you knew. Your heart pounded against your ribs, memories of Vander flooding your mind—his hands, strong yet tender, holding you close during the darkest times. His laugh, the warmth he exuded when the world around you seemed so cold. He had been your everything. You had loved him with every fiber of your being. But this thing, this beast, it was not the man you had known. This creature, with its bloodshot eyes and twisted form, was not Vander. It couldn’t be. Your hands shook as you tightened your grip on the electro-baton, but it felt wrong—so wrong. The memories of him, so vivid and painful, clashed with the grotesque beast standing before you. You felt sick to your stomach, a wave of guilt crashing over you. You had failed him. Failed to save him. And now, you couldn’t even bring yourself to end the nightmare he had become. Your breath hitched as Powder stepped forward, desperation in her voice. “Please, Y/N, stop. I know it’s him. I can feel him in there. I won’t let you hurt him again.” Her words were a plea, a fragile hope in the storm. But your heart twisted with doubt. You could still hear the screams, the way the beast had ravaged everything in its path. And yet… something in Powder’s eyes, something in her raw desperation, made you falter.
The beast—Vander—lurched forward, its eyes locking onto you with an intensity that nearly paralyzed you. Every memory you had ever shared with him felt like it was being ripped from your chest.“Vander,” you whispered, the word slipping from your lips before you could stop it. The weight of it crushed you. You had spent so many years believing that Vander was lost, that the man you loved was gone. But here he was, in some twisted form, and it was as if everything you had been through had led you to this moment. Powder’s voice trembled as she pleaded once more. “Please, Y/N. Trust me. It’s him. Don’t hurt him. He’s still in there.” The battle inside you was unbearable. Every part of you screamed to fight, to destroy the beast before it could hurt anyone else. But Powder’s face—the vulnerability, the fear—held you in place. Your heart ached for her, for the girl who had once been Powder, the girl who had believed so deeply in the man who had been Vander. And for a long moment, you did nothing. Your body, your mind, were paralyzed by the weight of it all.
You wanted to believe her, wanted to believe that Vander was still there somewhere beneath that monstrous exterior. You swallowed hard, the tears threatening to break free. Slowly, shakily, you lowered the electro-baton, letting it fall to your side. It felt like an eternity, the weight of the decision heavier than any battle you had ever fought. The beast—Vander—let out a low growl, and for a split second, it seemed to hesitate, its glowing eyes softening. And then, before you could process what was happening, it lunged. In a split-second, you shoved Vi out of the way, your body reacting faster than your mind could follow. You felt the beast’s claws rake across your shoulder, pain searing through your skin. The world blurred for a moment, your vision flickering as you stumbled backward, feeling weaker by the second. And then, amidst the chaos, the word tore from your chest.
“Vander…”
The sound of his name was a raw, guttural cry, one that echoed through the tunnels, through your soul. The pain hit you harder than any wound could. Vander, that name, those memories—they tore you apart. You had vowed to protect Vi and Powder, to keep them safe from the horrors of the world, yet here you stood, helpless. The love you had for him, for both of them, never faded. But now? Now you wondered if you'd failed them all. Could you ever undo the damage, or was it too late to save any of them? This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be this. But here he was, and you couldn’t turn away. Not now. Not after everything.
As the beast—the twisted, monstrous form of Vander—pins you to the ground, his massive claw digs into your shoulder, a searing pain that nearly overwhelms you. Your body is trembling, pinned beneath his weight, but you find the strength to cry out. “Vander!” The word escapes your lips like a prayer, a cry full of pain, longing, and grief. For a fleeting moment, the ferocity in his bloodshot eyes falters. There’s a flicker of something, a split-second recognition that makes your heart ache with hope, even as your breath hitches in terror. The claws dig deeper, and for a second, you wonder if it’s all over. The beast’s heavy breaths rattle through your chest, but you can’t stop. This has to be the moment. This has to reach him. With what strength you have left, you lift your free hand and place it gently on his massive claw, the very one that could end your life. You speak the words that have haunted your thoughts, words full of both love and desperate sorrow, knowing they might be the last you ever speak to him.
“It’s me... your sunshine.”
The words hang in the air, fragile and raw, and for a heartbeat, time seems to stop. The beast’s gaze flickers—just for a moment—as if the sound of your voice stirs something deep within him. There’s a trembling hesitation in his claw, as if he’s hearing something buried beneath the rage and the pain, something that reminds him of who he was. In the chaos of your heart, you realize your words are more than a plea. They’re a lifeline thrown into a sea of darkness, hoping that some part of Vander will catch it. For a heartbeat, you feel the world shift, the crushing weight of the beast’s form loosening as something human flickers in the depths of his eyes. His growls soften, his body stills, as if struggling against the flood of memories. Then, as if through a fog, his voice—gravelly, strained, broken—rumbles from the depths of his throat, just a whisper but heavy with a history that neither of you could erase.
“Y/N…?”
The name feels like a weight lifted off your chest, like the first breath after drowning. His voice is there, faint, but real. Vander is still in there. You can feel it—the man you loved, the one who had promised to always protect you, the one who had once held you close during the darkest nights, is right here in front of you. Tears blur your vision, and your body trembles, caught between the raw pain, the disbelief, and a flood of emotions you never thought you’d face again. With a trembling breath, you whisper, “It’s me, Vander… it’s your Y/N…” In that moment, his once ferocious red eyes flicker. A slow shift begins, and your heart seizes in your chest as you see something break through the fog—a glimmer of blue and green cutting through the fire. For a single, fleeting second, you see Vander there, in his eyes. The man you loved. The protector who had once carried you through the worst storms. It’s real. He’s still in there. The grip around you tightens, not with violence, but with a deep, consuming desperation. His body trembles with something far greater than rage—something more human. His chest releases a low, guttural breath, the growl that once shook the air now softened, trembling with the weight of all that he has become, all he’s lost.
He’s no longer the man you remember, not entirely. But he’s not the beast either. No longer fully consumed by it. It’s somewhere in between, and in that space, you cling to him like you’ve never clung to anything before. You feel his hands, so monstrous and terrifying in their size, holding you close— holding you. He pulls you in with a desperation that makes your chest ache, his form trembling as if he’s afraid you might slip away again, as if this might all vanish in an instant. The sheer weight of him, the warmth of his touch, releases everything you’ve buried deep inside—the fear, the questions, the pain, the grief. Every memory of him, of what you lost, surfaces and consumes you. Your sobs come, raw and uncontrollable. The sound fills the air between you, as you let go of everything you’ve carried alone all this time. And in the grip of this agony, in the midst of your sobbing breaths, you feel Vander—the man who once loved you—is still fighting to hold onto you, still fighting to be the protector he once was. His arms, still massive, still deadly, are now filled with tenderness. He doesn’t need to speak, not yet. His embrace says everything. He’s still here, he’s still fighting, and he hasn’t forgotten you. In that moment, you realize that the beast, the rage, the monstrous form—none of it can take away who he was, who he still is to you. Tears blur your vision even more, but you no longer try to stop them. You let them fall freely, because in the midst of the devastation, the pain, and the years you spent wondering if this day would ever come, you know— he’s here. Not just in body, but in soul. And you’ll hold on to him, no matter what form he takes. You’ll fight for him, just as he fought for you.
As Vander’s gaze shifts toward Powder and Vi, his monstrous form trembles slightly, and the flicker of recognition in his eyes softens further. Despite the beast he has become, there's a tenderness in the way he moves, his massive arm opening wide, offering a place for them to find solace in his embrace. The look in their eyes is a mix of agony and hope, the weight of everything they've endured written across their faces. It’s clear they’re torn between fear of what he’s become and the desire to believe that the father they once knew is still inside.
Without a word, you reach out, your voice quiet but full of emotion.
“Go to him. He’s still your father. He’s still here with us.”
The words are simple, but they carry the weight of years of grief, the ache of a lost family and the hope of its fragile restoration. Powder’s eyes fill with tears, and Vi, standing beside her, slowly steps forward. The two of them move together, drawn toward Vander’s open arms, like a long-buried longing finally being met. They collapse into his embrace, and the world around you seems to pause. Vander, in his monstrous form, holds them close, his massive arms gentle yet desperate, as though he’s afraid they might disappear if he holds them too loosely. The pain, the fear, all of it melts away in this moment, replaced by something simple—love. He’s still their father, still the protector who had raised them. Even now, with all the darkness and the destruction surrounding them, Vander is here, alive, and for this moment, whole.
And you stand back, watching them hold each other. The tears in your own eyes sting as you witness the reunion, knowing that, despite everything, the heart of the man you loved is still present. He is their father— your Vander—and for that, you are thankful.
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yellowbrokenblue · 1 day ago
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Harry joins you in the hot tub…
Your brother brought his best friend on vacation, and you find yourselves stuck in a rather steamy situation.
cw: smut, cheating, degradation, semi public sex, harry and reader being a horny mess
kofi
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You had no idea how your brother had managed to coax your parents into paying for his best friend, Harry, to come on vacation with your family, but somehow it had happened.
And it was killing you.
Harry was the sort of guy you only saw in movies. A perfectly chiseled jawline, brown locks you wanted to tangle your fingers in, and pink lips with a permanent smirk on them.
And what was even worse was that you were kept up at night with thought of him with your own fingers in your pussy.
It almost made you forget about your boyfriend, Brandon, who had conveniently had to attend a friends birthday party instead of his own girlfriend’s family vacation.
Everyone had been asleep for hours, but you had no chance of sleeping while dirty thoughts of Niall’s best friend kept circulating your thoughts- so you quickly changed into your bikini and made your way to the hot tub for a late night dip.
The water wasn’t as soothing as you’d hoped it to be, and instead the heat of the water had made you even more horny. Resisting the urge to dip your fingers below your bikini bottoms was killing you right now.
“Seems I wasn’t only one who wanted a dip in the hot tub tonight.”
Your head snapped upwards. Everyone was supposed to be asleep, you weren’t supposed to be hearing any voices at this time of night.
Especially not his voice.
“Harry.” You breathed.
“Mind if I join you?” He asked.
He was wearing only his swimming trunks, leaving his beautiful, tattooed chest on full display.
You caught yourself staring at him, and snapped your eyes away.
You don’t remember the last time you took a breath. You’d been holding it in as he stepped into the hot tub and settled himself directly opposite you, not breaking eye contact the whole time he got in.
“Why’s Brandon not here, then?”
You looked at him, confusion on your features as you listened to Harry spit out Brandon’s name with distaste.
“He couldn’t make it.”
Harry shook his head, frowning, “He’s a fucking prick, Y/N.”
You shrug.
“Oh well. I’m glad he’s not here. It’s kinda nice it just being me and you.” Harry said again.
Your heart skipped a beat.
“Don’t you think?” He asked.
“Yeah.” You said quietly, “It is nice.”
You squeeze your thighs together. The effect Harry had on you right now simply by sitting opposite you without a shirt on was crazy.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Harry asked.
You bite your lip, unsure of what to say, and nod.
“I say we play a little game, hm? You seem tense, let’s lighten the mood.”
“Uhm, alright. What’s the game?”
Harry shrugged, “I get to answer any question, and you have to answer. Then you ask me a question, and I have to answer… And so on.”
You frown, “And what if I don’t want to answer?”
A smirk spread over his features.
“Then you gotta take an item of clothing off.”
A lump forms in your throat.
“We’re wearing swimsuits, Harry.” You said.
“I don’t have a problem as long as you don’t have a problem.” He said, “Do you? Do you have a problem?”
You shook your head.
“No problem.”
Harry grinned, “Good.” He said, “Let’s get started then, shall we?”
You nod.
God, he was so hot. Sitting there, staring at you with those eyes. You felt like you were going to sink to the bottom of the hot tub and never come back out.
“What’s your body count?” Harry asked.
You swallowed. You had expected the questions to make a sexual turn eventually, but not straight out on the first one.
“Three.” You said, not elaborating anymore.
“Now you ask me one.”
You thought for a second. If Harry wanted the questions to be about sex, you’d make them about sex.
“Where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”
You noticed Harry smirk, and he wasted no time answering the question.
“A girl sucked me off in a movie theatre one time, but the weirdest place I’ve fucked someone? I dunno, like, janitors closet in high school?”
“Movie theatre? Like during the movie, or in the bathroom?”
“During the movie. There wasn’t many people watching the film to be fair, but the movie was on.”
“You’re insane.”
“I know.”
How you fucking wished it had been you sucking Harry’s dick in a movie theatre.
“Okay. My turn.” Harry said, “Why are you happy that Brandon didn’t come on vacation?”
“What?” You asked, “Of course I’m not happy. I’m upset about it!”
You frown at Harry.
“Either you tell the truth, Y/N, or you take an item off. Your choice, sweetheart.”
You think for a moment. Neither options are particularly good ones.
“Okay. Fine. I’m happy he’s not here. I just like… Needed a break from his constant complaining and constant need to create an argument.”
“That’s everything?”
You nod.
“My turn.” You said.
You pause.
Nothing comes to mind at all.
“I can’t think of one.” You say.
“Do you want me to just go again?”
It’s almost as if your heart had stopped beating- you were barely able to process the words that Harry was saying.
“Was it you that I heard touching yourself in your bedroom last night?”
Your cheeks go pink. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.
You swallow again, your heart racing.
“No answer?”
Harry smirks, sliding over to the other side of the hot tub, stopping in front of you.
“Sweetheart, you know the rules. If you don’t answer, that skimpy little bikini of yours has to come off.”
“I-”
You physically couldn’t get any words out of your mouth. Your thighs were pressed together as Harry stared hungrily at you.
He moved his hand closer and closer to the back of your neck where your bikini was tied, and in one swift movement, pulled the string of it, causing it to fall into the pool.
His eyes didn’t leave your breasts for what felt like forever. They were locked on your body, his eyes taking everything in.
“One point to me.” He said, “And I’m changing the fuckin’ rules. Only I get to ask questions now.”
You nod.
“Tell me who you were thinking of when you had your fingers in your own cunt last night, Y/N.” He said, his hands that had been placed on your hips moving closer to your panties, his fingers eventually dipping under the waistband, “Cause I sure as hell know it wasn’t Brandon.”
He spat out your boyfriend’s name like dirt on his shoe.
“Does he make you cum, Y/N? Does he make you cum with his tiny dick in your pussy? Does the make you feel good the way you know that I would make you feel good?”
Harry didn’t even wait for you to answer any of his questions. He ripped your panties down your legs, leaving you stark naked in the pool.
“Harry.” You say.
The pain between your legs was unmeasurable. You needed him so badly rignt now that it hurt.
“Tell me you want me, baby, and I’ll give you anything.”
“I want you, Harry.” You say.
“You can have me, babygirl. But first I want to see you touch yourself. Touch yourself the way I heard you last night.”
You wasted no time doing what he asked. The need to release the tension between your legs was so bad right now you’d do anything.
Your hand slipped between your legs and found your clit, rubbing fast circles, moaning out in pleasure.
“Dirty, dirty girl.” He said, “All this because you are so desperate to fuck me.”
“Please Harry. Please I need you.”
“That’s it, baby girl.” Harry said, palming his dick through his pants, “Beg for it. Beg for my cock, Y/N.”
You moan, your fingers still playing with your clit.
“Please Harry. Please give me your cock. I’m so desperate.”
He quickly changed the positions in you both were in, and had his shorts off his body and dangling over the edge of the tub in no time.
“That’s it.” He said, helping you straddle his lap, “You’re gonna take daddy’s cock like the pretty little whore you are.”
Daddy. You moan at his words.
He had hold of your hips, and you moaned as he pushed you onto his cock. Pushing his hips up so you took the whole length all at once.
“Such a tight cunt.” Harry groaned as his cock was pushed right inside of you.
You tried to grind against him, but he had hold of your hips so you couldn’t move.
“Stay still.” He instructed, “Play with those pretty tits and then I’ll let you move.”
You brought your hands to your breasts. You’d do anything for this man right now.
Harry moaned as he watched you push your tits together.
“Oh.” He moaned, “I’m gonna fuck those tits after this. Cum all over them.”
The feeling of his cock inside of you was already making you feral, but this was on another level.
“Please!” You say.
Harry seems to snap, and out of nowhere starts to move your hips, rocking you against him.
“Bounce for me.” He said. “Bounce on daddy’s cock.”
You moved your hips faster than you ever had before, moaning with each time you pushed your hips towards him, his cock filling you up more and more each time.
“Oh, Harry.”
Harry helps you moved faster and faster until you’re physically crying with how close you are to an orgasm.
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” You cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a fucking tidal wave.
Your legs were trembling as Harry groaned, indicating he’d reached his own high, your body falling limp, resting against him.
“You’re never gonna fuck that Brandon loser again. You understand?” Harry said, through his own orgasm, “It’s my cock only from now on.”
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rose24207 · 3 days ago
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Interrupted Stream
Summary: Lando is streaming and the chat seems to like his girlfriend more than him.
TW: None!
Genre: fluff, humor
A/N: English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!
Masterlist
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Lando was in the middle of an intense game, his eyes glued to the screen. His chat was alive with their usual chaotic energy, commenting on everything from his questionable aim to his random screams whenever he got ambushed.
“Alright, chat,” he muttered, leaning closer to his mic. “This is it. Big brain plays only. I’m clutching this—wait, WHAT?!”
A sniper shot from across the map ended his game, and he threw his hands up in disbelief. “That’s so unfair! How did he even see me?”
The chat erupted with laughter:
“Lan, you’re blind.”
“Bro, he was RIGHT THERE.”
“Classic Lando meltdown.”
He sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “Chat, you’re supposed to be on my side. You’re supposed to support me. Where’s the loyalty?”
As he rambled on, the door to his office opened, and you walked in holding a mug. “Lando, do you—oh. Are you live?”
He spun around in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. “I am, indeed, live. And now so are you.”
You froze for a second, glancing at the camera. “Oh no,” you said, setting the mug on his desk. “This is why I avoid this room when you’re streaming.”
The chat immediately exploded:
“Y/N REVEAL!”
“WE’VE BEEN BLESSED!”
“OH SHE’S HERE!”
Lando leaned back, hands clasped behind his head. “Chat, look who decided to join us. Everyone say hi to my very lovely girlfriend.”
“Hi, chat,” you said reluctantly, waving. Then you turned to Lando with a suspicious look. “Wait. Why do you look so smug? What did I walk into?”
“I was just showing chat how amazing I am at this game,” he said innocently, gesturing at the screen.
You raised an eyebrow. “Amazing? Didn’t I just hear you screaming about getting sniped?”
The chat went wild again:
“SHE KNOWS!”
“Y/N CALLS HIM OUT!”
“WE LOVE HER ALREADY.”
Lando groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Why are you always on their side?”
“Because they’re right,” you teased, sitting on the arm of his chair. “Let me guess. You ran straight into the open without looking, didn’t you?”
“Excuse me,” he said, pointing at you. “I’m a tactical genius. They just got lucky.”
You rolled your eyes. “Sure, babe. Tactical genius. That’s why you once threw a grenade at your own teammate.”
The chat was losing it:
“EXPOSED.”
“LAN, SHE’S TOO GOOD.”
“PLEASE LET HER STREAM INSTEAD.”
Lando groaned, covering his face. “This is cyberbullying. From my own girlfriend.”
“Call it tough love,” you said, smirking. “Besides, you’re the one who left your socks on the kitchen counter this morning, so you deserve it.”
“What does that have to do with anything?!” Lando exclaimed, his cheeks turning red as he glanced at the camera.
“Everything,” you said, standing up. “Alright, I’ll leave you and chat to... whatever this is. Try not to embarrass yourself too much, yeah?”
Lando turned to the camera with a dramatic pout. “Chat, she’s so mean to me. Don’t you feel bad for me?”
The responses were immediate:
“NOPE.”
“WE STAN Y/N.”
“JUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE, LAN.”
Before you could leave, Lando grabbed your hand. “Wait, wait! Before you go, answer one thing.”
You sighed, crossing your arms. “What?”
He turned back to the chat with a grin. “Alright, chat, here’s the question: Who’s better at Mario Kart—me or Y/N?”
You snorted. “Oh, that’s not even a question. I destroy you every time.”
The chat erupted again:
“Y/N SUPREMACY.”
“GET HER ON STREAM!”
“LAN IS FINISHED.”
Lando shook his head, laughing. “Unbelievable. I’m outnumbered in my own stream. You’re supposed to be on my team!”
“I am,” you said with a smile. “But only when you’re actually good at something.”
The mock gasp Lando let out was so over-the-top that you couldn’t help but laugh. You kissed the top of his head. “Good luck, babe. Don’t lose again.”
As you walked out, Lando turned back to the camera, shaking his head. “Chat, this is my life. Constantly roasted, no support, but hey... I think I kinda like it.”
The chat spammed hearts and laughing emojis as Lando launched into his next game, grinning from ear to ear.
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Thank your for reading!
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sandwitchstories · 2 days ago
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Sweet Suffering
Hi guys! I'm back! I hope you all enjoy another adventure in Mouse's Mini-verse with your favorite pink haired, two year old menace!
For more adventures with Mouse and Dad!Sukuna, check out my Daddy Duty Series on my AO3 - Here! )
Author's Note: For anyone new to my Dad!Sukuna Series, Mouse is Sukuna's, currently, 2 year old daughter with reader.
Summary: Kenjaku makes a surprise visit and Mouse strikes again. Kids say the dandest things, don't they? (My alternate title for this fic was 'Mouse vs Kenjaku')
If you would prefer to read this story on AO3, click here !
WC: 1900
CW: reader is referred to as 'Mama' and 'Mother' but not described, toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, family fluff, Uraume and Kenjaku (Heian era) are bothi n this one, there is 1 swear word, no one likes Kenjaku
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Sukuna sat on the engawa having tea while Mouse roamed around the yard singing a song she made up as she went, picking flowers, piling up leaves and doing a jump occasionally that reminded him of a frog. He had no clue what the little jump was for, why she was doing it or where the hell she had learned it from, but it was keeping her happy and occupied so he said nothing. If he had learned anything thus far in the 2 years he had been a parent, it was to NOT try to make sense of toddlers.
Sukuna raised his head and narrowed his gaze as he felt a powerful curse energy approaching. This visit was unplanned. And you were not going to be a happy camper when you got home if the curse approaching was still here. Mouse apparently sensed the energy too as she froze and looked towards its direction before bolting to him. 
“Papa! Papa! Papa!” She squealed, racing across the yard as fast as her stubby little legs could carry her. He lifted her up when she reached him so she could stand on his thigh. She immediately leaned into him and tangled her hands in his clothes. 
“You're fine, Mouse,” he told her, putting a hand on her back to steady her and soothe her. 
Sukuna was glad you were not there as Kenjaku came into the yard whistling. You couldn't stand him. The nicest thing you had ever said about him was that he was a leech that had latched onto Sukuna’s power and wouldn't let go. He knew you were right, but Kenjaku had talents and knowledge that Sukuna required for his plans. 
“Who is that, Papa?” She asked as Kenjaku strode towards them in a new body. Old one must have served its purpose and been discarded already. 
“Why, Mouse! Don't you recognize me? It's Kenjaku,” the curse said in greeting.
“That him?” She asked in a loud whisper that sounded wholly suspicious. “Him face is different.”
“Yes, it is. That's his curse power,” Sukuna answered. She was a bit too young to know the full details just yet. Maybe in a year or two.
She looked at him and then Kenjaku. She leaned in and asked him yet another question in a loud whisper. “Is Kenjaku a friend, Papa? Mama said-”
“Mouse, go find Uraume so I can speak with Kenjaku. That’s not a request, by the way. I am not asking,” he said, not wanting to know which one of your opinions on Kenjaku she was about to come out of her mouth. You had many of them and none of them were favorable. Not that he cared about the curse’s feelings, but right now he had a need for him. He set her down on the engawa and gave her a little push. “Go. Inside.” 
She gave a hmmmph and walked inside with her little nose turned up and her arms crossed. He heard her pause at the doorway with his sharp hearing. “I know you are still there, Mouse. Go.”
Kenjaku gave it several moments and waited for Sukuna to nod before he spoke. “So how are things here in the world of domestic bliss?”
“What did you come here to speak to me about?” Sukuna replied. He was in no mood for Kenjaku’s bullshit. He was dealing with enough sass from the 2 year old he had just sent inside. 
“What? I can’t stop by to see an old friend?” Kenjaku asked as he poured himself a cup of tea. 
“It’s not your style. And we’re not friends. Lets not start lying to each other after all this time,” Sukuna said.
“Fine. Have it your way. I have figured out how to do what we spoke about,” Kenjaku said. “It is the reason for my taking control of this vessel.”
“Really?” Sukuna was weary. “And have you tried the process yet?”
“Not on a person,” Kenjaku said, he gave Sukuna a side eye. “But are you human? Or are you a curse?”
“A calamity. Come back when you’ve perfected it, and then we will talk seriously,” Sukuna said dryly. He could hear two sets of footsteps heading their way. “Don’t show up here uninvited again.” 
“I do long for the days we could speak freely and for longer. I never needed an invitation before,” Kenjaku almost sounded like he was sulking. 
“You’ve always needed an invitation,” Uraume in greeting as they came out to the engawa, kneeling in respect to Sukuna with a broom in their hand. “Master Sukuna. Mouse said that Kenjaku is here. I came to see if you require anything.” 
“Ura-rau! Use the broom! Use the broom!” Mouse jumped up and down, pumping her fists in the air, directly next to where they kneeled.
“Be quiet, Mouse,” Uraume snapped, still looking down. 
“But Urau-rau…”
“Not yet,” Sukuna answered. He would have to make sure to ask what that was about.
“We were trying to have a discussion,” Kenjaku gave the two new additions a side eye.
“I was picking flowers,” Mouse said, hands up in the air giving the curse a shrug.
“It’s a little different, Mouse,” Kenjaku answered. “This was important.”
Sukuna closed his eyes and shook his head. Was this guy seriously trying to reason with a two year old? Especially that two year old. 
“Mine imbordant too! My flowers were for Mama,” Mouse said emphatically with her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes on Kenjaku. Without taking her eyes off of the curse in front of her she asked, “Mmmmm, Papa? I can pick more flowers now, please and thank you?”
Sukuna smirked. There it was. Mouse’s famous audacity. He had been waiting for it. “Fine, go.”
“Yay!” she ran over to him and grabbed onto his arm, hugging it and kissing his bicep, looking up at him with a smile. “Thank you, Papa!”
He held her arm and helped her off of the engawa before she skipped off but not before giving Kenjaku a quick victory smirk. The cursed looked at him and said, “She is her mother’s daughter, I see.”
Sukuna snorted in amusement. He couldn’t deny that nor would he want to. He had married someone incredible, one of a kind. Why wouldn’t he want her to be like you?
“And what of it?” Uraume asked, giving Kenjaku a disgusted side glare.
“Oh, not a thing!” Kenjauk said with a smile and wave of his palm. He looked at Sukuna. “You have changed. Don’t lose sight of our plan.”
“Did you need anything more?” Sukuna asked, not in the mood to discuss this further when Kenjaku hadn’t even perfected this technique. The curse needed to prove he could actually do it before Sukuna would discuss it further.  “If not, our business is concluded.”
“As you wish,” Kenjaku said, standing to leave. “I will return after I have confirmed results.”
You came through the gate at that moment, carrying goods from the market. Your smile faltered when you saw the curse standing next to him. Mouse ran to you and hugged your leg, looking up at you with a smile and holding up a handful of weeds. “Flowers for Mama!” 
“They are beautiful. Thank you, Mouse,” you said with a smile, rubbing the back of her head with your free hand.
“It’s okay, Mama. He leaving,” Mouse said, patting the back of your leg reassuringly. 
“Good,” you answered. 
“We will meet again soon,” Kenjaku said to Sukuna before heading out of the yard. He paused in front of you, “A pleasure to see you again.”
“The pleasure is all yours,” you answered with a fake smile.
Kenjaku looked down at Mouse and gave her a smile and a wave. “Bye bye, Mouse! I’ll be back soon!”
“The pleasure is all yours,” Mouse glared at him. 
“Enough, Mouse,” Sukuna said as Uraume choked while trying to suppress laughter behind him.” While he did feel a need to correct her attitude, he would rather his daughter hate Kenjaku than have anything to do with him.
The curse turned up his nose and exited the yard, closing the entrance behind him. Sukuna watched you and your daughter, both smiling and talking between the two of you, discussing what goods you had bought at the market. He was in no rush for his plans to come to fruition. He wanted to enjoy the little moments like these for as long as he possibly could.
“If you have no need of me, Master Sukuna, I would like to go start preparing for dinner. I have decided to make a dessert. Does mochi sound good?” Uraume asked.
He had a feeling they would be making some type of treats this evening as an unspoken thank you to Mouse for their treatment of the curse. “Sounds good to me. You may go.”
Mouse came running to him with you trailing behind. She had one left over flower in her hand as she ran to him. “Papa! Head down, please and thank you!”
He leaned down to her level, curious what she intended to do. He screwed up his face as she not so carefully put the flower behind his ear. 
“All done, Papa! Now you look pretty too!” She kissed his cheek and pulled back, giggling with a smile.
He sat up, the flower still in place and noticed each of you had a flower behind your ear too. He felt ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. But the smiles on both of your faces made him roll his eyes and leave it alone. “Thanks, I guess.”
“You’re welcome, Papa!” Mouse preened before gasping and running away.
“Now what the hell is she doing?” Sukuna asked as he stood, giving you a gentle kiss and taking the bag of goods from your hand. 
“Apparently picking another flower,” you said, watching Mouse hunt for the perfect one for her needs. She found it, snatched it up and came running back. 
“I be right back,” she told the two of you, clambering up onto the engawa and taking off running yelling out at the top of her lungs, “Uraume? Where you go? I gonna find you!”
“Don’t,” came the equally loud reply.
“I’m guessing everyone is getting a flower adornment,” Sukuna said with forced disgust as he glanced down at you.
“It’s not so bad, besides,” you said, tilting your head back, a sign he had learned meant you wanted kisses. He obliged and brought his head down. You cupped his face and kiss him before moving to walk away and looking over your shoulder, “It suits you.” With that, you walked away.
He had every intention of drying and keeping the flower, but he would not let either of you know and he would not let that slide. A flower accessory suiting the King of Curses? And not even a fucking poisonous one? Ridiculous!
Giving in to the absurdity he recently found himself being faced with regularly these days, he stormed after you calling out, “The hell it does! Take that back!”
“No take backs!” you called over your shoulder with a smirk on your face.
“I’ll show you no take backs, brat,” he growled under his breath. He’d wipe that smirk right off your face. His suffering had no end in sight. But what sweet, sweet suffering it was.  
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diamonddaze01 · 3 days ago
Note
hello tara it’s me
if you’re still taking prompts for your game could i maybe suggest 40 “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” for our seokminnie?
kthnxbaiiiii
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mismatched
pairing: seokmin x reader | wc: 1.0k prompt: “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” a/n: BENNIE HELLO! i loved writing this and honestly it was just what i needed after work today lol
The day had been relentless. Emails piled up like bricks in a wall, each one heavier than the last. Deadlines loomed, impossible to meet, and the cherry on top was your client—someone who, apparently, had made it their life’s mission to leave you frazzled and questioning your career choices. By the time you got home, your shoulders ached, your head throbbed, and the walls of your apartment felt closer than ever, suffocating in their silence.
You didn’t mean to text Seokmin. At least, not like that. You had typed it out and hit send without overthinking it: "Today sucked. Can I call you later?" Short, vague, but enough to convey the weight pressing down on you.
Seokmin had always been good at sensing when you needed him. Maybe it was the years of friendship, the countless moments you’d spent together, teetering on the edge of something more but never quite diving in. Still, you hadn’t expected him to show up at your door less than twenty minutes later.
When the doorbell rang, you frowned, dragging yourself off the couch. You opened the door, and there he was, panting slightly as if he’d sprinted the whole way. His scarf hung lopsided around his neck, and his coat was barely on, one sleeve dangling at his side. His hair was tousled from the wind, and his cheeks were flushed a deep pink from the cold.
“Seokmin?” you asked, startled. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you okay?” he asked, skipping right past pleasantries. His wide, dark eyes were locked on yours, scanning your face like he could piece you back together just by looking.
You blinked, caught off guard. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re wearing two different shoes,” you added, pointing to his feet before he could answer.
He glanced down, and the realization hit him like a truck. His left foot wore a white Adidas sneaker with faint blue accents, while his right foot was clad in a scuffed brown leather boot.
“Oh,” he muttered, ears turning crimson. “I didn’t notice.”
“You didn’t notice?” Your voice wavered between disbelief and the beginnings of a laugh.
“I came as soon as I got your text!” he protested, lifting his hands in defense. The plastic bag he carried swung dangerously close to hitting him in the face. “You said you had a bad day, and I thought maybe—maybe you needed me, or something.”
His words settled in your chest, warm and grounding. Your lips twitched despite yourself, the first hint of a smile breaking through the exhaustion that had weighed you down all day.
“Seokmin,” you said, stepping aside, “you didn’t have to rush over.”
“I wanted to,” he said softly, ducking his head as he stepped inside. His mismatched shoes squeaked against the floor, a detail so absurd it made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.
“What’s in the bag?” you asked, nodding toward the plastic he still clutched in his hand.
“Soup,” he said, holding it up like an offering. “And snacks.” He hesitated, then added sheepishly, “I panicked. I just grabbed the first things I thought might help.”
You couldn’t hold back the soft laugh that bubbled up. “Soup is a solid choice.”
He grinned at that, the kind of radiant smile that made your chest flutter no matter how many times you’d seen it. “See? I know what I’m doing.”
The two of you settled on the couch, and Seokmin insisted on heating up the soup despite your protests. You let him, partly because you didn’t have the energy to argue and partly because watching him move around your tiny kitchen—still wearing those mismatched shoes—was strangely comforting.
When he returned, he handed you the bowl with a dramatic flourish. “For the most amazing person I know,” he declared, settling beside you with his own bowl.
“Flattery won’t fix my day,” you said, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you, lifting into a smile.
“Maybe not,” he replied, “but it might help a little.”
And it did. As you ate, you told him about your day—the impossible client, the mountain of emails, the way your boss barely acknowledged your effort. Seokmin listened intently, nodding in all the right places and throwing in the occasional comment that made you laugh despite yourself.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said after a pause, his voice quieter now.
“Don’t start,” you said, though your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his tone.
“I mean it.” He set his empty bowl aside and turned to face you fully, his gaze soft but unwavering. “You’re amazing, and I hate that you don’t see it.”
His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. Before you could muster a response, he leaned in, brushing a soft, tentative kiss against your forehead.
Your breath hitched, and when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, as if he was waiting for a sign that he hadn’t overstepped.
“Seokmin…”
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just—I wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”
A small laugh escaped you, unbidden and warm. “A little.”
“Just a little?” He pouted, leaning closer, and before you could respond, his lips brushed yours—soft, warm, and lingering. The kiss sent a jolt through you, scattering your thoughts and melting away the tension that had clung to you all day.
When he pulled back, his smile was smaller this time, less teasing but no less radiant. “How about now?”
You laughed again, this time from somewhere deep in your chest. “Okay, fine. It worked.”
“Good.” He leaned back against the couch, propping his mismatched shoes up on the coffee table with zero shame.
By the time the evening wound down, your bad day felt like a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of Seokmin’s presence. You glanced at him one last time before heading to bed, and for the first time in hours, you felt okay. Maybe even better than okay.
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all-pacas · 2 days ago
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Okay need to make a post entirely about chase being insane about religion. Chase's endless religious cycling. how badly and desperately and clearly he wants to believe, how much he wants faith and god, and how he can never quite - make it. Never quite get there. How he openly admires and defends the faith of others, faith and prayer as concepts, how he turns to confession in a crisis, how he still has large parts of the bible committed to memory, how he never answers any questions about his faith, if he believes in God, if anything.
In Damned If You Do, he shares his favorite bible verse with the nun. The episode itself paraphrases it a little, but the verse he mentions reads:
In this you rejoice, though now for a little while you may have to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold which though perishable is tested by fire, may redound to praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
(you will suffer. it will be so hard. you will be tested. gold can be melted and your faith is more valuable, and if you keep trying, you will be rewarded, you will.)
(AUGUSTINE: Why did you leave the seminary? CHASE: That test. You passed, I failed.)
Here Kitty:
PATIENT: Do you want to tell me what an idiot I'm being? CHASE: No. I really believe that there are things that science can't understand. That there is a role for faith and prayer. But it's in the waiting room. Not the O.R. PATIENT: There's a reason I got sick. There's a reason for all the bad things that have happened to me. I don't know what that reason is. But I know that if there isn't one… If there's no greater purpose in the world. Then it's not a world I want to live in. CHASE: I'll schedule an operating room.
House Training:
CHASE: You want to go get drunk? FOREMAN: No thanks. I’ve got paperwork. CHASE: Listen, I don’t… I don’t know what I believe, but sometimes I need to think there’s something out there paying attention. So when I can’t talk to anybody, I talk to God, and pretend somebody’s listening. We were all wrong, Foreman. Even House was wrong. FOREMAN: I know.
He leaves the chapel in Damned if You Do. He prays for the baby in Forever. He gives the woman in Here Kitty her risky surgery; he defends the faith healer and Wilson's girlfriend's faith in House vs. God.
House vs. God:
HOUSE: When you were in seminary, did God ever talk to you? CHASE: …No.
Chase:
I always wanted to believe. It would have made my life a lot easier. It never took.
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(AUGUSTINE: You told me your favorite passage. Would you like to hear mine? “Celebrate and be glad, for your brother was dead and is alive again.” CHASE: …The prodigal son.)
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kkayyerr · 14 hours ago
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Hii can I request a rafe c little!reader when he is talking to some girl but reader gets jealous. You don’t have to write it if you don’t want to 💕
The only one.
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Summary: Rafe is talking to the Kiara and little!reader getting very jealous and hurt.
Warnings: Age regression, angst, jealousy, fluff in the end.
Author’s note: Rafe is more soft in this one because it isn’t the early seasons Rafe that I’m usually writing about.
Since the very start of your relationship, you knew that Rafe hated all the Pogues. His only exception was you; he excepted you and was still dealing with excepting your lifestyle. So of course you were more than shocked when you saw him talking to another Pogue, and you were even more surprised when you found out that it was Kiara. As you knew, they never liked each other, so why was he standing there, smiling at her? You didn’t even want to know. The only thing that you knew is that you were unhappy about this, and when you were regressed and unhappy, it meant that Rafe might ended up running to the store to buy you something that will be accepted as an apology and would make that pouty look go away from your pretty face. 
However, today you didn’t want anything. You didn’t need new plushies or some sweets; you just wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t trade you for another girl, because even thoughts of it were making you anxious. You start sucking on your thumb, trying to calm yourself down, but thoughts were only getting louder.
You left the beach and went home without letting Rafe know, ignoring his calls as he was probably going crazy thinking that something bad might’ve happened to you. And it did, but this time Rafe was the one who hurt you instead of being your protector. As you got home, you went straight to your room, covering yourself with your favorite blanket. You were overwhelmed by all the thoughts and memories that had popped up in your head.
Rafe sweared that he won’t leave you no matter what, but that’s what they all had said, right? 
Maybe you just became too much and he decided to finally break free from you and your regression; maybe you finally became a burden to him. Tears streamed down your face, and you were trying to quiet your sniffles by hiding your face in the pillow when suddenly you heard someone entering the room, loudly shutting the door. 
 
„What have I told you about always telling me where you are, hm?”
 
Rafe was angry, probably even furious with your behavior. He probably thought that you were just being stupid and irresponsible, ignoring his words as always. He ripped off the blanket from you when he saw something that he wasn’t expected to see at all. You were lying there, your face all puffy, strings of tears on your red cheeks. 
 
„Baby, what happened? Did someone hurt you?”
 
Rafe asked quickly, trying to make you look at him by softly touching your arm, but you slapped his hand right away, pointing your little finger at him. 
 
„You.”
 
You mumbled, making Rafe’s face expression turn from worried to confused. He didn’t do anything to hurt you today; he was trying to not hurt you at all. What could he've possibly done to make you this upset? His heart ached just from the thought of being the one who makes you cry like that. He actually had no ideas, and the only way to find out was talking about it with you. Gently.
 
„How exactly did I make you feel so bad, little one?”
 
His voice was not only softer but also quieter. He didn’t want to make you even more overwhelmed, loudly interrogating you with his questions. You finally stood up from where you were laying, still looking upset but more cooperative.
 
„Do you like Kiara?”
 
You asked, ignoring his question but basically answering it anyway. Rafe’s face finally brightened up, and he gave you a small, soft smile, also getting up from the bed. Rafe was relieved when you finally told him why you were so upset. The situation wasn’t so bad after all, and he had a chance to explain himself. He wanted to hold you in his arms, or at least put you on his lap and keep you close to him, until all those stupid thoughts won’t go away. He wanted you to know just how much he needed you. Though he knew that he needed to explain himself to you first. 
 
„No, baby. I don’t like her at all. She was afraid of me a little bit, and you were always telling me not to terrorize people, so I wanted to make sure that she wasn’t taking your Daddy for a bad guy anymore.”
 
After he had said that, you finally let him touch your arm. His fingers were caressing your skin in a soothing manner, while you gave him a soft smile back. All those thoughts about you being a useless burden finally disappeared when you saw his loving glare. Well, he definitely wasn’t looking at Kiara that way. 
 
„You’re the only one for me, and everything I do is for us, baby.”
 
Rafe said, pulling you in his arms and sighing with relief when cuddled up to him instead of breaking free from his embrace, even though he deserved that for not letting you know about his plans with the Pogues. He kissed your head gently, making sure that you are feeling loved and important, even though it was extremely hard for him to say that to you out loud.
 
„Don’t talk to that bitch anymore.”
 
His eyes widened at your words. He wasn’t used to you swearing, especially in the littlespace, because he was teaching you manners and not to repeat bad words after him or anyone else. He opened his mouth to call you out on it, but you quickly covered it with your hand, giving him a sly smile.
 
„Shh, Daddy. No whining.”
 
Well, it looks like his talking privilege was just taking away. 
Taglist: @tinylilacbun @rafecameronsloverrrrr @aew-regression-cove
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ktownshizzle · 9 hours ago
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Friends & Fools | One-Shot
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Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader
Summary: You and Yoongi have always been just friends—inseparable since childhood, roommates in the city, partners in navigating life’s chaos. At your high school reunion, the questions start: Are you two finally together? Uh, no. But as the night goes on, and Yoongi looks at you like that, hmm—has everyone else seen something you’ve been too scared to admit?
Genre: Fluff, Suggestive, non-idol!au, reunion!au, best friends & roommates to lovers, grumpy x grumpy, when reader is more yoongi than yoongi himself
Warnings: cursing, smoking cigarettes, kissing, allusion to sex
Word count: 2.8k
Posting date: November 26, 2024
Notes: This is a one-shot to celebrate my 500 followers milestone for the blog! Just a cute little something as a thank you making this writer happy. The story was inspired by two asks: 1) lovely anon who wanted to talk about Yoongi at Jimmy Fallon; 2) kookiewithluv who sent me the softest, smiliest, fluffiest d-day Yoongi photos that I just couldn’t help myself.
Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕
Masterlist
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MIN YOONGI 101 is a course you could’ve taught in school. It’s a subject matter you’ve mastered somewhere between the sandbox (when he was the kid hoarding plastic shovels in the playground) and the shoebox (the over-priced apartment that you both decided to rent together after uni).
It’s ‘cause you’ve always been good at watching him. You’ve picked up all his visual cues, his weird quirks, his tells.
Tonight is no different. From across the room, in the too-bright glare of your high school gym’s rented stage lights, you catch the tell-tale pinch of his brow, the mindless nodding that means he’s enduring yet another overly enthusiastic former classmate. Someone’s laughing too loud in his face, and he responds the same way he always does—with a small, polite smile and a glance at his drink like it’s his lifeline.
You’d know that look anywhere.
Yoongi catches your eye then, like he can feel your energy slicing through the crowd, and his lips twitch. The faintest ghost of a smirk, the kind he reserves just for you. He raises his glass, and you do the same from across the room. A silent message of we're too fucking sober to be in this joint.  He holds your gaze and you watch as he inadvertently inserts the straw up one nostril, giggling because that wouldn’t be the first time. He shakes his head and puts it back in his mouth for a sip.
It’s comforting, really. That tether between you and Yoongi.
Even if the two of you are apparently the only ones here who don’t see what everyone else does.
You are standing by the endlessly classy boxed wine on the buffet table, watching your old classmates get progressively tipsier under dim lighting. Yoongi stands next to you, unabashedly drinking whiskey straight from his flask. He looks real sharp in a tailored blazer, with a casual t-shirt underneath, mumbling earlier that day how he cannot be arsed to fiddle with a necktie, even though it’s always you who has been fixing it for job interviews, funerals, formal occasions etc. for him for the past years. Secretly you think he knew that wearing that t-shirt actually just made him look effortlessly cool.
Someone from across the room waves, and you recognize it to be Hyorin, your former lab partner who was also a cheerleader or something, making her way toward you. “Oh my God, you two!” she exclaims, beaming. “You finally got together, huh?”
Yoongi chokes on his drink, and you nearly drop your solo.
“Nooo,” Yoongi drawls, dragging the word out with a mix of disbelief and amusement.
Hyorin frowns, tilting her head. “Wait. You’re not a couple?”
You both shake your heads so emphatically it looked rehearsed. 
“Nope,” you say, popping the P.
“Not even fucking?”
The audacity of this chick, though?
“Not even close,” Yoongi answers, but his voice sounded oddly tight. 
Hyorin gives you both a skeptical once-over before laughing. “Okay, sure. Whatever you guys say.” She leaves, shaking her head like you’ve just told her the earth is flat, didn’t you know that?
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They’re really starting to piss you off, ngl.
“Okay, but seriously,” Jihyo, who was in the band with you and one of the few people you’ve kept some form of contact with (hence can tolerate), hisses. “You’re really still not together?”
It was your turn to choke on your drink. “Hajimaaa! Why does everyone keep asking me that? Y’all wanna shoot your shot with Yoongi, go! I don’t give a fuck.”
Jihyo gives you a look like you’re the most oblivious person on earth. “This is exactly why I think you’re into him. Not everyone wants to date him, girl. We’re just curious about you two.”
“I—fuck you, actually. Give me one good reason why you think we’re a… thing.”
“Because you and Yoongi have been attached at the hip since we were all kids? Because you practically morphed into the same person? Because he’s literally looked at you the same way since he had that awful mushroom cut in fourth grade?”
“It wasn’t a mushroom cut. It was…” You cringe. “Yeah, it was a mushroom cut.”
You both giggle, then she asks, swirling the remains of her wine. “But seriously. Everyone thought you finally figured it out. You two moved in together a couple of months ago, no?”
“Yeah, because rent’s insane, I hate people, and he hates people, so we’re perfect roommates.”
Jihyo raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Mmhmm. Roommates. Sure.”
You roll your eyes, but the words stick with you as the night drags on, looping in your head as more classmates approach with the same comments. It’s exhausting. You’re about to grab your coat and drag Yoongi out of here when you feel a familiar figure at your side.
“You okay?” Yoongi asks, voice low, his shoulder brushing yours. 
“I’m fine,” you sigh. “Just… everyone keeps asking why we’re not dating.”
Yoongi scoffs, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “What’d you tell ‘em?”
“The truth.”
He smirks again, but it’s sharper this time, laced with something you can’t quite name. “And what’s that?”
“That you’re a chronically unavailable workaholic and are too emotionally constipated to be anyone’s boyfriend.”
He huffs a laugh, shoulders bobbing. “Ouch,” he says, but his eyes are soft, the way they get when he looks at you sometimes, warm and wistful.
You look away first, clearing your throat, suddenly remembering what Jihyo said about how he looks at you. “Well, you’re not exactly ideal boyfriend material.”
Yoongi shrugs, mouth forming a straight line. “Fair.”
Anyway, you know you’re no dream girl, either. He is just way too soft for you to say it to your face.
Between the two of you, your combined dating history looks like a collection of UN flags, except they’re all red. 
Him with his too-whiny, needy bitches, who have far too high expectations of him and he is just not the guy to validate their feelings 24 fucking 7. He has things to do (produce) and places to be (his studio).
And you, with your love bombers and commitment-phobes that have got you questioning if there’s something wrong with you because they always lose interest down the line. (Yoongi says they're all assholes btw, and you are inclined to believe him, despite lingering self-doubt.)
You always joked that no one else understood either of you the way you understood each other.
But aren’t jokes half-meant?
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By the time the reunion starts winding down, you’re tipsy enough that the edges of the night feel soft and fuzzy. You’re outside, leaning against the brick wall of the building with Yoongi, his jacket draped over your shoulders because he’s simply gentlemanly like that. Raised well by his eomma who you equally adore.
“You didn’t have to stay this long,” he says, lighting a cigarette.
You watch the glow of it as he inhales, the faint tremble of his fingers in the cold. “Neither did you.”
He shrugs, exhaling a thin ribbon of smoke. “I wasn’t gonna let you suffer alone.”
Something warm pools in your chest. “Thanks. And, same.”
The quiet stretches between you, the kind of comfortable silence only Yoongi can manage. It’s strange how natural it feels, just existing with him like this. Like it’s enough.
You gesture to the stick, then he slowly brings it to your lips.
You exhale the smoke as you tilt your head back to look at the stars—or what few stars there are on this cloudy night—and ask the question that’s been sitting heavy on your tongue all night.
“Why do you think everyone assumes we’re together?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer right away, but you can feel the heaviness of his gaze on you like it’s settling on your shoulders.
“I dunno,” he says eventually, voice quiet. “Maybe because we act like we are.”
Hol’ up. “What do you mean?”
He takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slow. “I mean… we know each other better than anyone else. We live together. Spend all our time together. Maybe they think it just makes sense.”
Your heart stutters. “Does it?”
Yoongi stills, blinks like he’s trying to suss out where you’re going with this. “What’s up with you?”
“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice teeny-tiny. “Just… do you ever think maybe we’ve been—”
“Idiots?” he cuts in, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
You laugh, but it’s shaky. “Yeah. That.”
Yoongi looks at you then, really looks at you, and you feel like the ground might give out beneath you. There’s something in his expression, something raw and vulnerable and scared. Like he’s standing on the edge of something, just waiting for you to push him over.
“Sometimes,” he says finally, his voice rough.
It’s not an admission, not exactly, but it’s enough to make your pulse race.
“Yoongi,” you start, but the words catch in your throat.
He snuffs the cigarette against the wall and tosses it towards the can. Then, he steps closer, close enough that you can see the faint moles on his face, the curve of his lashes as he blinks down at you.
“You wanna go home?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.
You know what he’s really asking.
You say yes.
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The walk to the subway station is quiet. Tense.
The back of his hand brushes yours as you walk along the sidewalk, and neither of you moves away.
The subway ride back to your apartment is also quiet. Tense.
Yoongi doesn’t say much, but his knee brushes yours every time the train sways, and neither of you moves away. 
By the time you’re back in your apartment, your brain is mushy and your head feels like it’s about to explode as you keep rewinding and replaying the events of the night, every classmate that alluded to your relationship, his lingering glance, sharing the cigarette, every half-formed word between you... Fuck.
Yoongi kicks off his shoes by the door, pushing it under the rack. You stand there awkwardly, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you.
“Tea?” he asks, already moving toward the kitchen.
“No.” Your voice comes out too abrupt, too sharp, and he freezes.
He turns slowly, eyes searching yours. “You ok?”
“No.” You take a deep breath, your heart pounding. “I think we’ve been avoiding this for a long time.”
Yoongi blinks, but you know he is just pretending not to understand what you meant. “Avoiding what?”
“This,” you say, gesturing between you. “Us.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then— “Mm.”
Mm. That’s all he says, like you haven’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of your tiny living room.
“Yoongi,” you say, stepping closer. “Do you—”
“Yeah,” he interrupts, nodding as he bites down on his lower lip. “I do.”
The air shifts between you, and suddenly you’re not sure who moves first, but then his warm hands are on your face and your fingers are tangled in his shirt and his mouth is on yours, and—
Oh.
Damn.
His lips are softer than you imagined—not that you spent countless late nights pining, but if you had, this would surpass every hypothetical. He kisses like he does everything else: deliberate, unhurried, sure. His hands slide down from your face to rest on your waist.
The sigh that slips from your lips is involuntary, but it’s enough for him to push further. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, coaxing you open, and when he deepens the kiss, tasting you, it uncoils the knot that’s been tight in your belly all night. Yoongi tastes faintly like whiskey, like cigarettes, and something else so distinctly him and you’re endlessly intoxicated.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails grazing the nape of his neck, and the low, guttural noise he makes in response sends a shockwave through you. Heat settles in your core, spreading with an intensity that takes you by surprise. Because omg–this is not some hot stranger you met at a bar. This is your goddamn best friend, whose hand is now dangerously encroaching on the swell of your ass.
You hadn’t expected this—not the kiss, not the pleasure, not the way he makes you feel like you’re in some version of paradise.
You’re melting with every curl of his tongue, every shift in the way his lips move against yours. It’s the kind of intimacy that makes the rest of the world fall away, until the only thing you’re aware of is the feel of him—his warmth, his certainty, the way he kisses like he already knows this is how it should’ve been in the first place–a sureness you hadn’t expected. 
It’s not just passion—it’s belonging, the sense that every piece of you slots perfectly into place with him. Like the years of laughter, arguments, and everything in between have all been leading here. His hands now circling your waist feel steady, like they’ve always known where to hold you even though this is the very first time. 
And in that moment, kissing Yoongi feels like coming home—warm, certain, complete. A place you hadn’t known you were searching for, because you’ve always been with him, and now you can’t imagine ever leaving.
When you finally pull away, his lips are swollen, and his eyes are a bit moist, blinking blankly like he can’t fathom what just happened. His arms loosen their hold on you, just a bit, and suddenly, you can see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
And for a second, your stomach churns, worried that the wheels in his head are turning and it’s telling him that this was not it.
Finally he speaks. “Was that weird?” 
You huff out a breath, a cross between a chuckle and a sigh of relief, because God. Yoongi could be pressed against you, breathless and flushed, and he’d still overthink. You really belong together.
“Not weird,” you say softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Weirdly perfect, maybe.”
He exhales sharply, relief flooding his features. “Fuck, okay. Good. Because if it sucked for you, I’d have to move out. And in this economy???”
You swat his chest, laughing again, but then his arms tighten around you again, holding you close, and the teasing fades into something softer. It’s not lost on you that this is the longest you’ve ever touched each other. Two socially awkward fools who are secretly touch-starved now finally getting what they’ve been craving for but have been too shy to admit it.
“Seriously, though,” he says, a lopsided grin decorating his lips. “What happens next?”
You tilt your head, pretending to think. “Hmm. You could still make tea if you want?”
He groans, his head dropping to your shoulder. “You’re the worst.”
"Or…" you say, sliding your hands across his chest, your fingers lingering just enough to feel his breath hitch beneath your touch. You push his blazer off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. "We could… you know."
Yoongi lifts his head, and the look in his eyes makes your heart trip over itself. There’s heat there, sure, but beneath it lies something deeper, something that feels vulnerable. "Are we really doing this?"
And you know what he means. Because again, you know Min Yoongi inside out. And he’s known you. But now you’re ready to bare everything that’s left to discover.
"I’ve never been more sure of anything," you say, your voice steady in a way that surprises even you.
His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, his last bit of hesitation melting away as he nods.
You step back, your movements slow, deliberate. Turning away from him, you reach for the straps of your dress and slide them down your shoulders, feeling the fabric loosen as you take a few steps toward his room. You glance back over your shoulder, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Are you coming?"
He grins, gummy and warm, and it’s so achingly Yoongi that your chest tightens. "I would hope so…"
You roll your eyes stifling a laugh, because he’s stupid, because he’s him. And because you’ve never loved (wait... what?) anyone more in your entire life. "C’mere then," you tease, the words soft, daring, as your dress slips to the floor and pools around your ankles.
He breathes out, a sound that’s almost a laugh, almost disbelief. "Okay," he says, his voice low, quiet, like he’s agreeing to something more than just this moment.
And maybe he is. Maybe this is the easiest thing in the world, the most inevitable thing that’s ever happened to either of you.
And now, finally, you’re both ready to admit it.
:)
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A/N: EEEEKKKK Please tell me what you thought about the story! I'd appreciate feedback if you loved it, hated it, and if it made you feel a certain way.
Thank you for reading this you lovely, beautiful human xo 
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& If you want to read more of my work, please check out my masterlist. & If you enjoy my work and want to buy me a ko-fi, I'd appreciate it.& If you want to be tagged for all future stories, you can sign up for the permanent taglist.
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misspelledwordswizard · 3 days ago
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Some forms of courtship of male wolves are to adopt dominant postures, like show their teeth or they may give gifts such as meat or bones, all to impress the female
I like to think that Twilight unconsciously does something similar, he stands at attention around you, puffs out his chest a little, if he hunts an animal he makes sure to pass close to you so you can see it, finds nice things around and leaves them in your stuff, etc
It's all about you, he wants your attention and approval so much unconsciously that he's like a puppy, If you want, he can lie on his back in front of you (act of submission or surrender) Just so you understand how much you have him wrapped around your finger, But please tell him he's doing everything good 🥺
I really like this, this idea itself is very good, and maybe it's because I like it so much that it was so difficult to do.
It took me a long time to get around to writing something about it, because all the ideas didn't seem good enough, and I still think it didn't turn out the way I wanted. But here it is!
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Instincts
The Rancher approached me, with something in his hands, crouched down in front of me, where I was sitting, extended his closed hand towards me and opened it, revealing a golden ring with a blue stone in it. 
— What is this? – I asked, confused about why he had it, and why he was showing it to me, and not about what the object itself was. 
— A ring, I found it in a chest. It’s for you. – He answered, still with his hand extended, offering me the ring. – As soon as I saw it, I thought of you. – He concluded with a sweet smile on his lips. 
That made me smile too, it was really nice to know that someone thought of me seeing something like that, especially when that someone is Twilight. This feeling has been following me constantly for the last few weeks, I feel strangely silly when he’s around, and it feels like I’m going crazy, because I’m starting to think that maybe this could mean something more coming from him. This is probably just my deluded mind seeing things, but it makes me happy. 
I accepted the ring, he didn’t seem willing to give up on the idea of ​​me wearing it, and it fit perfectly on my ring finger, it felt right to be there, and it was really very beautiful.  Satisfied with that, the blond stood up and turned his attention to something Time had said, but I hadn’t heard it, as I was too focused on the present to notice the things around me. 
I sighed and hoped that no one was around to hear my silly act of a little girl in love, especially the Veteran and the Captain. I got up from the place I had been sitting under the shade of a tree. It was still morning, some of the boys had gone out to explore the surroundings of the place where we were camping and had just returned, as had Twilight. This ring was probably found in the surroundings. And now, he, Time and the Champion were going to hunt for our food. There wasn’t much to do. We would be staying here all day to replenish our supplies and regain our strength, as the next city was still far away. 
I went towards where Sky was sitting, he was sculping something on a small piece of wood, which ended up catching my attention.  I sat down next to him and was greeted by a kind smile. He seemed to understand my curiosity, because before saying anything he showed me the object he was working on. It still looked very unfinished, almost shapeless, but I was able to recognize that it was a bird. 
— It’s a hobby of mine, it helps me to distract myself.  
— I liked it, it’s really cool, but it seems difficult. You’re talented. – I replied, enchanted by the manual work, I wanted to know how to do things like that, it would be great to give as a gift.  
— Do you want to try? I can teach you if you want.  
— Are you sure? I won’t get in your way? – He just laughed at my question.  
— No, of course not, it will be fun!  
That was enough to convince me, after all, I was already very tempted. Sky gave me a square piece of wood that I could make whatever I wanted and asked me to choose something to carve. I thought for a moment, but soon a perfect image came to mind. He helped me mark the shape on the wood, and then he showed me how I should use the tools.  
It took a while for me to get the hang of it, but soon I was in the mood and we were both working on it, focused, taking advantage of this quiet time to talk.  He told me about his Zelda, and how he used to make her these cute little gifts. There came a time when we just talked about whatever came to mind, without much concern. 
Until the hero stopped talking, and something covered the sun behind me, creating a large shadow. Sky looked at what was behind me, looking surprised and confused, mostly confused, which made me look back too. And there he was, standing, at his full size, carrying a slaughtered boar on his shoulders with a certain pride, with his clothes even a little stained by the animal’s blood, Twilight. For some reason, he was just standing there, without reacting, staring at his brother with something that looked like a frown, which only made the situation stranger and more confusing. 
— Well, if you’ll excuse me, I needed to talk to Time, now that he’s back. – Sky said, getting up from his seat and leaving, with an expression that looked like understanding. 
I could see the wolf boy’s posture relax drastically, and finally, when Sky left us, his gaze turned directly to me, with a big smile on his face. I stood up, putting my unfinished work in one of the pockets of my belt, and turning my attention to him. 
— I got this. – That was all he said, keeping his proud smile on his lips, making me smile with his attitude. 
— Impressive! I’m sure the Cook and I will be able to make something very good out of this. 
His smile faltered for a moment at my words, but then he just nodded in agreement, satisfied for some reason. 
— Yes, I’ll help you. 
— Oh, no need, you’ve already done great at that. 
— No, it’s okay, I want to help you. 
I ended up just accepting that, so I went over to where Wild was to prepare lunch. He didn’t take too kindly to the idea of ​​the Rancher helping, saying there wouldn’t be much for him to do, but his insistence ended up winning the argument. He ended up only being left with the task of cutting the meat, in the end, but that seemed good enough for him. While the Champion and I took care of the rest and talked, he kept staring at his brother with that same weird frown. What’s gotten into him? 
After we did most of the work, all that was left was to wait until the meat cooked, so Wild released us from the task. I went to a corner to read, and for a moment, I thought Twilight would follow me to that corner, if he hadn’t been called by Warriors, making him sulk again. It’s a shame, I really wish I had his company right now. 
 I didn’t see him again then, at least not until now. After lunch I spent the rest of the afternoon going back to work on the wooden sculpture, I wanted it to be perfect. This was good, because it distracted me for hours, when I saw it, it was already getting dark, the boys who were out, for unknown reasons, returned, including my wolf boy, who came straight towards me, ignoring any calls from his brothers.  
He threw himself down next to me, resting his head on my shoulder and sighing. Poor thing, it must have been a tiring day for him. I put my work, now finished, aside and moved so I could look at him better, making him raise his head, attentive to my movements. I put a hand on his cheek, I felt hypnotized by his beauty, and it hit me even harder when I saw him melt into my hand, smiling. That was, until his smile died, for some reason, leaving me worried. Did I do something wrong?   
Before I could ask him anything about it, he pulled me into his lap, making me squeal in surprise, and pulled me close to his body, hugging me tightly in a protective manner. I couldn’t be more confused, but I’m definitely not complaining. 
— What’s wrong? – I asked softly, and he took a moment to answer, looking thoughtful. 
— You still smell like Sky. I’m taking care of it. 
I didn’t know what to say to that, I didn’t imagine that I could smell like someone else like that, but there was no point in contradicting him about it either, after all, Twilight’s sense of smell is definitely quite sharp. I sighed, relaxing against the strong man’s body with a goofy smile on my face. What a good day. 
— Oh, I have something for you! – I said, picking up the sculpture I had been working on, which was shaped like a wolf, or rather, Wolfie, and handing it to him. – Sorry, it didn’t turn out very well, I’m still learning. 
He held the gift carefully, analyzing it, looking surprised. Then he pulled me closer, giving me a tight hug and burying his face in my neck, I could feel him smiling against my skin. 
— Thank you, dear. – He said, looking me in the eyes again, and placing a warm kiss on my right cheek. 
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aphroditesswan · 2 days ago
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AHDJFJDHAHD YOU WRITE KINICH SO GOOD IMAGINE HIM i mean not imagine he IS mean yk.. he'd be soo mean to you.. yanking ur hair back and having u open ur mouth for him but still not letting you suck him..(mexican kinich pls?)
this is SUCH a difference from my last post ijbol,, anyways
fem reader + mexican/spanish speaking kin, oral (k!receiving), rough kinich, impact play, hair pulling, dacryphilia, mix of degradation and praise, teasing and edging and hes just so mean
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“be patient, princesa. what do i always say about patience?”
“slow and steady does it,,”
“that’s right mami, such a smart girl. now keep that mouth open f’me.”
kinich held your head back by your hair, pulled away from his so obviously aching cock when the tip was so close to your mouth and you wanted nothing more than to suck him off.
“you’ll get what you want mami don’t worry, just be a good girl and wait.”
he was so sweet, it almost overrides the near primal grip of his hand laced in your hair. he relished in the way tears flowed down your cheeks in wait, makeup messier than when he first got his claws on you.
really, he had no reason for this other than the simple fact that kinich liked to,, experiment with you. he wanted to see what made you tick, exactly what buttons to push before you were plain sobbing and begging for just a sliver of his touch. he kept his own need in check, want hidden behind the soft — but increasing slowly — rise and fall of his chest.
“you look rather desperate hermosa. you seem to want this more than i do, is that right mami?”
he loved to embarrass you in front of yourself, make you admit things that you’d usually never be bold enough to say.
when you stayed silent apart from the smallest of whines, he brought his spare hand up to cup the other side of your face. silken hands slowly moving from your jaw and sliding to the back of your neck, still soft as it laced into your hair and pulled you just a bit closer — not nearly close enough.
he felt the way you leaned into the touch, eyes doe as you looked up at him and pouted. that gentle hand was quick to match the other in terms of tone, pulling from your neck to smack the side of your cheek. light, but hard enough to leave the smallest and sweetest of stings.
“c’mon princesa, i asked you a question. don’t make me repeat myself, or you’ll have to wait even longer.”
the irony of him demanding an answer from you so impatiently while making you wait to just please him would’ve been laughable had the two of you been in a different situation, but alas.
“y-yes, i do,”
he seemed dissatisfied with such a small answer, so much so that it warranted your second slap of the night.
“be specific mami, tell me what you want. mess up again and you won’t get it.”
he was mean, bordering cruel. but really, could you blame him? he loved to see you cry and beg for him, how youre so put together look and attitude is so easily messed up and ruined when he gets his hands on you or simply tells you know.
“please, i wanna suck you off, kin,”
he absolutely adores the way you beg for him, how you look up at him with those pretty eyes and how your lips curl even more into a soft pout as you embarrass yourself below him. he drinks up the sight, almost drunk off it as he releases the hold on your hair and switches it to glide his fingers through the back of your neck.
“as you wish, princesa. what kind of man would i be if i denied you what you wanted so badly, hm?”
the way you didn’t even wait a second to take him into your mouth had him reeling, groans slipping through his lips but it wasn’t like he was trying to hide them.
“fuck- good fucking girl, thats it. so eager, so nasty all for me, yeah?”
he feels the vibrations of your hummed out response course through his dick so beautifully, sending electricity through his veins and causing his head to lean back and his breath to catch in his throat. you were so relentless with him, so desperate after waiting for so so long just for a taste of him.
he could feel his impending orgasm, inevitable it seemed as you pushed all the right buttons as soon as you got your hands on him. however, he knew he had to wait. after all, slow and steady does it, and the night was still young as never.
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this is so late but #fuckitweball and mi cumpleaños es en tres dias!!
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xetlynn · 2 days ago
Text
JJK Imagines- Saturo Gojo
Pink Panties
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⚠️Warning🔞: SMUT (My first time writing it so... sorry if it's not the best) Summary: You’re a sharp tongued woman who doesn’t put up with Gojo’s flirting…
[jjk] [main page]
Contains: afab, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, f!recieving oral.
I make my way to meet with Principal Yaga. Gojo is supposed to be there as well but I doubt it due to him just getting back from a mission and that usually means he makes some sort of excuse to miss it. 
I entered the room, I’m surprised to actually see Gojo sitting there with Principal Yaga. Both of them look up to me. “Surprised to see me? Hm~” The white haired idiot asks with a smile on his face. I rolled my eyes, sitting on the other side of the table as Yaga was in between us. “What’s the meaning of this?” I immediately questioned, avoiding the area of the teacher who was trying to get my attention. 
“There’s a mission in Osaka that needs to be taken care of. Needs two sorcerers to take care of this mess.” Yaga explains, I take in a sharp breath. He knows how I feel about leaving my students. “How long will this take, do you estimate?” I furrow my brows. 
“About three days, depending on how you two work together.” He answers, I glance over to my coworker who gives me a small wave. My expression drops even further than it already has. “This is going to take a week.” I stand up, slamming my hand on the table. “Oh, be excited [Name]! You get to work with the strongest! It will take two days I guarantee.” Gojo says after me as I walk away. “You leave tonight!” Yaga shouts loud enough for us to hear. 
“I know how much you hate being away from our precious children.” He clasps his hands together striding behind me as I fume with anger. Being stuck with this man for longer than an hour is enough torture for me. “Our students.” I corrected him, “they’re doing amazing. I believe they will be okay without us for a week.” I turn the corner. 
“You keep saying a week I think that’s the amount of time you want to spend with me.” He snickers, attempting to lean on me but I punch him in his gut. His infinity stopped me from actually touching him though. Only causing him to laugh even more. “You always try that. Always fail.” He teases me. 
“You’re very irritating, Gojo.” I open the door to a lounge, going to sit on the first chair I see. “Mm, I think you secretly enjoy my presence.” He heads over to the fridge, pulling the door open. “In your dreams.” I mutter, I take my phone out to see a message from Shoko. “You do seem to have made a habitat in my mind whilst I sleep.” He picks up something from the bottom shelf of the fridge. Walking over to sit in front of me. 
Later in the night Gojo and I stand in front of the school, and Ichiji pulls up, rolling his window down. “Why doesn’t Gojo use his Blue to get to Osaka?” He questions as the both of us throw our bags in the passenger seat since they were only backpacks. “Because he has to be up my ass whenever he can and I don’t like the feeling of being teleported.” I spit out, climbing into the back seat of the car. Gojo follows right behind me. 
“I would love to be-” 
“Don’t finish that sentence if you know what’s good for you, Gojo Saturo.” I point a finger in his face, clicking my seatbelt on and Ichiji begins to drive. “No need to get hostile, beautiful.” He compliments sweetly, also clicking his seatbelt on. 
“Shut up.” I tell him, adjusting myself so I’m facing the window, leaning my head on my hand to fall asleep comfortably but also making sure I get nowhere near the man beside me. 
As I keep my eyes shut I finally fall asleep after twenty minutes of being on the road. 
When we got to our destination I woke up to Gojo’s hand in the middle of the seats. I glare down at it. It looks like it was expecting to be held. I then look up to him already facing me with a smile. “Was my hand tempting you, beautiful?” He lifts his hand up, wiggling his fingers. “Almost as tempting as punching you in the face.” I got out of the car not before thanking Ichiji. He hands me my bag in response with a short nod. 
We were standing in front of a hotel. “I hope they only gave us one bed. How romantic would that be?” Gojo nudges me and I give him an angry expression. “You would sleep on the floor.” I pushed him away from me, surprisingly his infinity was off. We head inside, a lady sitting at the front desk with a bored look on her face. 
“Reservation for Gojo and [Last Name].” I give her a polite smile. She looks up to me with the same bored expression. “Hm?” She then eyes me up and down then over to Gojo. I watch as her body language shifts. A grin now on her face, posture straighter and I immediately drop my smile. Sighing. 
“What did you say your reservation name was, sir?” She motions for Gojo to answer. His face contorts at first. “I didn’t say anything.” He tells her. He kind of shocked me with his response. Normally he’d soak up any type of attention he got from a woman.
“She did though, didn’t you, beautiful?” He places a hand on my back. I scrunch my nose in disgust. “Gojo and [Last Name].” I grumble out, shimmying away from his touch. “Oh, sorry ma’am.” She types away on her computer. “Ah, room 404. Here you are.” She hands me the keycard. “Thanks.” I take it, walking away now with an attitude because of whatever that interaction was. 
“Ouu fourth floor! Hopefully we have a balcony.” Gojo excitedly says, pressing the button for the elevator. “We’re only here to sleep.” I remind him. “Ah, I don’t need much sleep so it’d be nice to have the balcony while you sleep. Unless you want me in the room. I wouldn’t mind either actually. Both would have nice views!” He exclaims as we enter the elevator, he presses the button with a 4 on it. 
“I hope we have a balcony.” I mumble under my breath, I hear him quietly laugh to himself. “Glad we can agree.” He says. The elevator dings and we exit. Our room was only two doors down. Not much walking. 
I swipe the keycard and open the door. I smile at the sight. Two beds. “Thank you, Yaga.” I put my hands together happily. “Awe man.” Gojo throws his bag on his bed as I jump on mine. “At least you got your balcony.” I motion to the tiny balcony that could only fit two people standing up. “This sucks. I’m going down there and getting us a better room asap.” He grumbles, and I laugh. 
“Oh calm down you baby, I made it look smaller than it was.” I snap my fingers and the balcony grows to its actual width. “That was not nice, beautiful.” He wiggles his finger in disapprovement. “Wasn’t meant to be.” I shrug my shoulders before digging into my backpack. “I’m going to take a shower, don't do anything stupid.” I take my pajamas out and head to the bathroom. “Don’t take too long! I’ll miss you!” He calls after me, I flip him off before entering the room. 
I shut the door behind me and set my stuff down. I let out a huff, this is going to be a long mission. I can feel it. I turn the water on and stare at it, watching it until I see steam so I can then take my clothes off. I throw the dirty clothes in the corner before getting in the shower. 
It was a quick shower, somehow I feel tired all over again even though I just slept five to six hours in the car. 
I get dressed into a sweater and go to pick up my underwear but I don’t see it in my little pile. I glance around the bathroom hoping I dropped it in here. “Shit.” I whisper. Hopefully I left it in my bag and didn’t drop it out there. I slip my shorts on and pick up my dirty clothes to put it in a plastic bag I have in my backpack. I swung open the door and Gojo was standing there with my panties in his hand. A large grin plastered on his face. 
I squeeze my eyes shut, groaning in embarrassment. “Forgot something, hm?” He dangles it in front of my face and I glare at him. “You’re not funny.” I go to snatch it but he lifts it up higher. “They seem to be brand new, never worn before?” He observes the light pink cotton panties. “Gojo, please.” I reach to grab them again but he just lifts it up once again. 
“Answer my question.” He sticks his tongue in between his teeth, genuinely waiting. I give him an “are you serious?” look and he just nods his head.
“I- No, I’ve worn them a few times.” My face heats up, I push past him and put my dirty clothes on my bed. “Can I just have them, please.” I stick my hand out but he shrugs his shoulders. “How badly do you want them, beautiful?” He asks.
“Gojo, this isn’t funny.” I walk over to him attempting to jump up and grab them. “You’re going to have to try a little harderrr~” He snickers. I only brought one other pair because I figured I could use a washing machine if we needed to stay longer. And that was my one other pair. 
I get on top of the bed and go to snatch it since I was higher up but it only causes him to pick me up. 
As a reflex I wrap my legs around his waist still trying to grab the stupid pair of underwear. “Beautiful if you wanted me to carry you I would’ve done so.” He continues to tease me and I just roll my eyes in response. “I can’t believe I’m feeding into your fantasies you pervert.” I finally grab the pair of underwear and I hold it tight in my hand so he can’t snatch it back. 
“Got them.” I grunt, unwrapping my legs and jumping down. His hand was on my back to steady me. I looked up at him and his blindfold was down to his neck now. I didn’t even realize that it fell. “That was unnecessary.” I shove him but he barely moves. “Mm, to you.” He steps closer to me. “I would love to see you in those pink little panties.” He whispers as he looks down at me. 
“I’m sure you do.” I whisper back, not looking away from him. 
“You’re not wearing panties at all right now are you?” He questions, his eyes traveling down to my legs. My shorts were hidden under my large sweater. “That’s none of your business.” I avoid the stupid question.
“I got my answer.” He snickers, I didn’t even realize how close he was. His nose inches from my own. I’ve never thought of Gojo this way. I mean he just played around with my own underwear from me. I should be wanting to kill him. But I can feel my own arousal… 
I pressed my thighs together to get some sort of friction as Gojo Saturo, the man I hated, was staring me down. “Let me help you with your… little problem.” He hesitantly places his hand on my hip, when he sees I’m not going to stop him he gently lifts my sweater up so he can feel my skin. His fingers are squeezing at my flesh. I subtly gasp at the coldness of his fingertips. 
“Are you going to stop me?” He tilted his head, his voice was sultry and smooth. A different tone from what I’m used to. I avoid eye contact, shaking my head ‘no.’ 
His other hand lifts up to my face, his fingers grabbing my chin, forcing me to look back up to him. “I need an answer, beautiful. With words.” He orders. 
“Just fucking touch me, Gojo.” I tell him through grinding teeth, not believing that left my mouth. He licks his lips with a smile, his hands pushing me to the bed. “Saturo, don’t call me Gojo during this.” He then finally closes the distance between us by kissing my lips. He guides me further on the bed so he can kneel on the edge, not unlocking our kiss doing so. 
His hands grip onto my hips, pulling me as close as possible to him. 
After what felt like hours of making out he pulls away, he roughly takes his shirt off, throwing it on the ground. I then do the same thing, just wanting this to happen sooner. 
“No bra either? I’m starting to think you left your panties on the ground on purpose~” He satirized me, his hands immediately found my boobs, his mouth on mine once again. “So soft.” He whines in between kisses. 
He then kisses the corner of my mouth, going down to my neck. “I’m going to make you feel so good you’ll never have a mean thing to say ever again.” He promises, I let out a shaky breath feeling his lips kiss in between my breasts, trailing all the way down to my shorts. “Let’s see what’s down here.” He smiles to himself, tapping my thighs indicating that I need to lift up. I do so and he yanks my shorts off abruptly. I let out a small yelp due to the coldness hitting me down there. My legs were spread since he was in between them. Giving him an automatic view of my pussy. 
“It’s prettier than I ever imagined.” He cooed, his left hand was holding onto my thigh as he got closer down. His stomach now on the bed. His face inches from my core. His other hand traced around my pussy, teasing me. My hole clenching around nothing, waiting for some sort of action. “Oh, you gotta be patient [Name]... I’ve been wanting this for a long, long time.” He bites his lips, admiring me from down there. I hide my face in my hands. “Shut up.” I pull a pillow to me to put my head on it. “Don’t be shy now.” He chuckles, before I even get myself fully situated I feel his lips connected to my clit. 
My leg jerks from the sudden contact and his hand grabs my ankle to keep it still. He plants kisses on my sweet spot. “You’re soaking already.” He enthusiastically mutters, his tongue now diving in. I instinctively grab his hair in response. “Go- Saturo…” I moaned out. 
He begins to suck at my clit, his little whimpers he let out vibrating causing even more pleasure for me. I hump my hips into his mouth as he practically makes out with my cunt. 
My fingers massage into his scalp, taking ahold a handful of hair. Tugging on it as he gets faster. “Saturo, please.. Please keep going, keep going!” I beg, throwing my head back. I heard him mumble something but I couldn’t make it out. 
Then I feel two digits enter my soaking, lonesome hole as his tongue plays with my bud. His fingers begin to scissor inside of me, going in and out whilst stretching me out. “Don’t stop, I’m almost there!” I squeal out, not able to say it any other way. My other hand found his hair. I attempt to bring him closer, grinding myself on his face. 
“I’m almost there, i’m almost there!” I cry, tears actually brimming my eyes. He hums out loud as his fingers get faster. His head moved side to side, his nose adding extra satisfaction. I feel him try to lift his head but I push him back.
His laugh muffled as he does what I want him to do. My tummy tightens and I feel like I’m about to explode. “Oh I’m cu- cumming! I’m cumming!” I call out senselessly. My hips roll, riding out my orgasm. He pulls his head back but still fingering me, making it even more intense than there being nothing. “Did that feel good, beautiful?” His fingers stop their movement but don’t leave my pussy, his palm now laying on my clit as he comes up to kiss me. 
“Taste yourself? Taste that?” He sloppily makes out with me. “Hm?”
“Mhm.” I tiredly respond, feeling slightly fucked out already and it was only the beginning. “I want you to taste how amazing you are.” He pulls his fingers that were once in my cunt up to my lips. “Suck them.” He demands, tracing his fingers around my lips before shoving them into my mouth. My tongue wraps around them and I begin to slurp up my own juices. My eyes never leave his.
His pupils dilated to where I could barely see the bright blinding blue. “What a sight.” He grins, taking his fingers away with a pop after exiting my mouth. “I need to be inside you.” He groans, he gets off the bed to shove his pants off impatiently. I observe him as my hands go to my boobs, my fingers toying with my nipples. 
His dick springs out once his boxers go down with his pants, I notice the pre-cum already oozing out making the redness of his tip more prominent. I bite my lip as my mouth waters at the sight. “Like what you see?” Saturo winks, I roll my eyes. “I got so into eating you out I didn’t even notice my blindfold.” He laughs at himself, taking his blindfold off from it being around his neck. “It got some of your juices on it.” He pouts, throwing it on top of his pants. “What a messy girl.” He crawls back on the bed and in between my legs. 
I look away embarrassed but he grips my jaw, making me look back at him. “I want you to watch me fuck your little pretty pussy.” He commands, letting my face go to smack my thighs open even more for him. “Just look at that.” 
He takes his cock into his hand, smacking it on my clit. I jolt since I was still sensitive from the orgasm I just had. “I need you to watch, remember beautiful.” His hand goes to the back of my neck lifting me to get a better look at his thick mushroom tip entering my desperate hole. 
“You’re taking too long.” I complain, wiggling down for him to fill me up.
 “Oh yeah? Too needy for this cock huh?” His hand drops my neck and goes to my hip along with his other one. “Yes, please. Come on, idiot.” I frown. “Back to those mean names, beautiful? They really hurt my feelings, you know.” Then before I could spit back he thrusts forward, now fully sheathed into me. I yelp in response, grabbing onto his hands.  
“I really have to dick you down senseless just to be nice to me?” He pulls back to where his cock is almost out of me. “I- Fuck you.” I spew out. “That’s what I’m about to do, beautiful.” He harshly thrusts back into me, now keeping a steady pace. 
“Have anything to say now, meanie?” He huffs, squeezing my hips to bring them close to him as he’s already maliciously bullying my walls. His tip repeatedly hit that perfect g-spot in the back. All he gets in response is a dumb-ified set of moans that get knocked out from the rough hits. 
Skin to skin loudly smacking. Almost sounding like it’s echoing in this hotel room.
I feel stupid with how I couldn’t respond to him. My hands finding their way to his sides, clawing at them from how intense everything feels. 
“I- I’m clo-se! Harder!” I wrap my legs around his waist.
I close my eyes, taking in the feeling that’s in my stomach once again but before I get there I feel emptiness in my core. My eyes shoot open. “Wha- Why’d you do that?” I angrily ask him. He laughs, picking me up. “Turn around.” He does a little spin with his finger. I get onto my knees, my ass touching the heels of my feet.
“Say please.” I cross my arms, not liking the way he just talked to me. “Beautiful if you want to feel that orgasm, do as said.” He glances to the spot in the bed of where he wants me. “Say please first.” I argue with him. “Don’t make me force you now.” He pouts, but when I don’t move he sighs. 
Seconds later his hands grab my waist, moving where I was to then shove my torso down leaving my ass in the air. His hand travels to my head, pushing it even further into the sheets as his dick re-enters my pussy. I let out a relieved moan.
 It doesn’t last long when he begins pounding into me. His hand still pushing my face into the bed, his other grabbing my ass, playing with it like it was a fun toy.
My hand goes down to my clit, rubbing it so I can feel my orgasm. “Saturooo, faster.” I plead. “Faster? He repeats, I nod my head. “I need your words!” He sings. 
“Fuck me faster!” I yell out, bringing my ass to meet his pelvis. He lets go of my head and smacks my ass, grabbing onto my hips to fuck me at an unfathomable pace. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” I grip onto the sheet as I also rub my clit. “Almost there?” 
“Mhm, keep going.” I fuck my ass back to meet him once again. He mutters out profanities, his thrusts getting sloppier. “I’m close to.” He tells me.
“Move your hand.” He swats my hand that was attached to my clit to replace it with his own getting me closer. “Fuck!” I cry out, arching my back when I feel all the little butterflies in my stomach erupt wildly. I hear my pussy squelch loudly. “Where do you want my cum?” He grunts, as his takes his fingers back from my clit. His dick still pumping in and out of me. “Inside,” I murmur, tucking my thighs together making it tighter for him. “Shit.” He whimpers.
“I’ll give it all to you.” He humps into me at a quick pace once again. I cry out, feeling another orgasm coming. “Gonna fill this pussy to the brim.”
“You want that don’t you? You want Saturo Gojo’s cum filled deep inside that cunt.” He says, never relenting. “I wa-want it, give it to mee~” 
“Yeah, here, here ohmygoddd~” His hips connect to my ass, grabbing my hips to pull me as close as possible so his load travels deep inside me. I wiggle my hips to feel his cock massage around my walls. “Fuck, beautiful…” He hovers over me, grabbing my neck to pull me in for a messy kiss before slowly slipping out of me.
I feel a mixture of our cum spilling out of my cunt. He pulls away to watch it. I turn my head to see his expression. He then takes the cum and pushes it back into my hole.
I lay my legs down so he can’t see it anymore. “Awe, got shy again?” He giggles, wiping some of the cum onto my ass. “You’re so weird.” I mumble into the bed, feeling my eyes get heavy. “Let me clean you up before you go to sleep, [Name].” He gets up off of the bed. I hear him in the bathroom and the sink water turns on for a few moments and then he comes back. “Lift your hips, beautiful.” He taps my ass. I lay there for a moment wondering if I should be a smart ass or not but he beats me to it when he says “please.” 
I smirk, doing as he told me to and he cleans the cum up with a wet rag before cleaning himself and throwing the cum rag on the ground. I flinch in disgust. 
I tiredly sit up as he puts his boxers back on before laying down on the bed. I lay on top of him, pulling the covers over us. “Not even going to get dressed in those pink panties?” He says coyly. “Shhh.” I put my finger to his lips, I feel him kiss it as I doze off. 
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sh0jun · 1 day ago
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MC telling the warlords they need to see a therapist. ESPECIALLY NOBUNAGA!
How would they react to that 🤔
OMG HI
XD yes they definitely do need therapy qwq
Telling the warlords they NEED to see a therapist
Their first question to this statement would be, "what the hell is a therapist?"
After you explain what a therapist is and that you've already booked a lesson for them meaning they HAVE to go there (because they cannot say no to you). Weapons are not allowed during the session.
• Oda Forces
→ Nobunaga Oda
• oh? Interesting.
• the therapist and he will have an interesting talk to say the least.
• obviously he isn't really going to answer any of the therapist's questions. Well not a straight answer anyways
• will scowl every time the therapist manages to figure him out
• in the end he doesn't open up to the therapist and instead challenges them to a battle of Go.
→ Hideyoshi Toyotomi
• ends up helping the therapist
• that's it
• he listens to the therapist's problems and tries to help him the best he can
• somewhere during the session he will confess his undying loyalty to Nobunaga
• Therapist tries to tell him to value himself more
• the therapist almost gets punched
• how did things go there? I think you can figure it out
→ Mitsuhide Akechi
• another one who doesn't open up to the therapist
• they both actually have a.....competition? They both counter attack each other by asking questions
• this goes on for a WHILE a long long while
• of course Mitsuhide won. But he tells the therapist he enjoyed the session
• no he's not coming back again. The therapist got way too close to figuring him out.
→ Masamune Date
• ends up crying and confessing anything mid way through the session
• idk why. I see him as someone who would do that
• anyways he will also boast about his cooking, Shogetsu and MC
• will invite the therapist over to lunch
→ Ieyasu Tokugawa
• doesn't want to go.
• what do you mean he's going to help me with my past traumas? I don't want to go
• he's like a cat when you try to take them to the vet
• very grumpy and salty throughout the session. Would not give a straight answer to any of the questions
• would leave midway through the session
→ Mitsunari Ishida
• sunshine. Angel. Not even 5 minutes into the session and the therapist knows what his problem is
• he will try his best to help out this angel
→ Keiji Maeda
• no.
• refuses to go.
• doesn't want to risk getting caught. He will dissappear once again just to leave the session
→ Ranmaru Mori
• also ends up crying and confessing
• this is the only one so far with whom the session has gone smoothly
• Uesugi Takeda Forces
→ Kenshin Uesugi
• he was already upset because his weapon got confiscated.
• points a knife at the therapist when he touches a particularly delicate subject
• where did the knife come from? No idea.
• someone needs to stay in the room (MC) to calm him down
• will need many more therapy lessons but the therapist has refused to attend any more sessions with him
→ Shingen Takeda
• flirts with the Therapist
• either charms the therapist or gets kicked out
• even the therapist tells him to lower it down in the sugar intake
→ Yoshimoto Imagawa
• therapist tries his best to keep up with Yoshimoto
• but over time he gets lost
• he will also probably get kicked out
→ Kanetsugu Naoe
• another one who has a hidden knife
• actually talks pretty formally with the therapist
• the therapist already kind of shaken up by the incident with kenshin approaches the subject pretty cautiously
• surprisingly enough Kanetsugu cooperates
• success!
→ Yukimura Sanada
• does he need therapy? I personally think he doesn't
• maybe he does but not as much as the others
→ Sasuke Sarutobi
• I don't think he needs therapy
• he does but not many sessions
• very cooperative
• sits through the Sessions with others to calm them down in case they decide to attack the poor fellow doctor
• Lone Forces
→ Kicho
• doesn't want to go
• he was already traumatized enough. Why must he approach the subject again
• will be cooperative as in will not point any hidden weapons at the therapist
→ Motonari Mouri
• he just dissapears
• you won't see him at the sessions at all
→ Kennyo
• reluctantly agrees
• reluctantly cooperates
• would go in meditative state sometimes just to avoid some questions
Thankyou for reading!
I tried to add them all in this one! But some of them are a little shorter than the others as I have no idea what they might do qwq
Taglist:
@bakersgrief @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @mollycoddle707 @bontu-the-l0ver @ludivineikewolf
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thezombieprostitute · 23 hours ago
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The Arrangement - Part 12
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Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.
Warnings: Anxiety, Bad parents and siblings, Talking about abuse. Let me know if I missed any!
Part 11 - Part 13
Series Masterlist
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It had been just over a week since your wedding. You and Jake have improved your communication. He's also managed to really set himself up in the home theater where he'd spent that first night. Apparently one thing your parents got right was the massive pair of recliners specifically for that room. Jake swears they're more comfortable than most of the beds he's slept on over the years. It makes you feel better about taking the master bedroom for yourself. Clay had visited again bringing a few duffel bags of Jake's things, including his computer. The massive screen for the theater worked really well for his setup.
While you were cooking, Clay had made sure to update Jake on the status of his family. Things were working pretty well, but there were going to be a lot of paper trails to hide so that they couldn't be followed. Or at least, not followed easily. Aisha and Cougar had both caught a couple of people following his family around that were confirmed to be employed by his parents. Hopefully now that Jake had his computer he could get some better intel on the parents' finances and connections.
But you weren't privy to that update. Jake and Clay agreed it was safer to keep you in the dark about the details. Though Jake didn't doubt your sincerity, there were still too many unknowns about you.
You really didn't mind that they got quiet whenever you were near. Your mind was already at maximum anxiety with Travis, your brother, still being in the Intensive Care Unit. Your parents had been acting unusually as the week progressed and Travis didn't get better. According to the police report he'd been seen drinking heavily with friends before trying to drive home. Usually one of his friends would be the designated driver and keep everyone's keys but, somehow, Travis had gotten his keys.
And now your parents seemed to be readjusting their life plans, and yours as well. The one time you were allowed to visit the hospital you'd overheard your parents murmuring about "he can't be seen like this," "he'll be seen as weak," and other similar thoughts. It made you worried you and Jake would be even more under their scrutiny, set to even higher standards. Your breath hitched as you realized they may demand a grandchild to help change the public perception of the family to one of hope or something like that.
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You and Jake were getting ready for your first public event as a couple. You're helping Jake pick out the right suit while doing your best to answer his questions about what to expect, what is appropriate conversation, how much both of you needed to talk to others before you could leave. You know you're missing things. Jake does, too. But neither of you can think of the questions to ask so you establish a silent signal for help. Jake squeezes your hand three times and you either step in or whisper some advice in his ear. It's not a great system, but it's all you can do for now.
Jake hates how he looks in all of this but he knows it's not about him or his comfort. At least he doesn't have to wear the torture device you call a dress. The thing looks impossibly tight on you. He's worried about your ability to breathe. And the stiletto heels have you warning him you'll be on his arm all night to help you keep your balance. Jake actually takes comfort in that because he really doesn't want to be left alone at this event. Probably any event, but this first one especially.
As the car pulls up Jake takes a deep breath and you attempt the same.
"We can do this, right?" He says quietly.
"I believe we can," you nod. You gently squeeze his hand in reassurance like you did that first morning with the parents.
He nods, "let's do this."
As soon as he's able Jake is out of the car and opening your door for you. The last time he did so you were scared of each other. Now you make sure to give him a small smile of thanks as he takes your hand. The elevator ride to the party is as quiet as the one you took together your wedding night, but less oppressively so. It isn't until the elevator doors open that you both put on your fake smiles. Both of you taking small comfort in the fact that neither of you is suffering alone.
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After the first couple hours Jake is ready to punch someone, anyone, just so he can be forced to leave since he's not allowed out yet. He's incredibly grateful you insisted on eating a little something beforehand. The food here is barely edible and dissolves faster than cotton candy. He hates the wine? Champagne? Whatever the hell it is, he hates the taste of it but, in following your lead, he knows he has to at least sip often enough to warrant a replacement glass every 30 minutes or so. Jake was grateful to have your weight on his arm to help keep him grounded.
Especially when Charles Blackwood, a "friend" of his from high school, showed up. Charles had been nothing but a leech throughout all of high school but Jake was desperate for some kind of friendship.
"Jacob! Where have you been?" Charles holds out his hand and Jake grips it firmly.
"I've been okay, Charles. You?"
"Holy crap, you're married now? Is that why you finally came out of hiding?"
"Sort of," he admits.
He goes to introduce you but Charles stops him. "I know this lovely lady quite well," he admits. You avert your eyes. "We were engaged for some time."
"You were?"
"Didn't she tell you?" Charles smirks. "Would've been married for two years now if her parents hadn't stepped in."
"For once I'm glad they did," you interject. "You're a conman who shouldn't be here."
Charles gives a small laugh, "well look who finally grew up. Too bad you didn't pick up on what was going on before I got you into bed." Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. "How are those dolphin projects going?"
"Sharks," Jake snipes. "Her focus was on sharks."
"Ooo, nerd standing up for nerd. How cute."
"You need to leave us alone," Jake fumes. "She is my wife and I won't let you insult her."
Charles scoffs, "since when can you fight?"
"Since boot camp."
That gives Charles pause. He searches Jake's face for tells that he's lying but finds none.
"Yeah, alright," Charles concedes. "Just don't ruin this party for me. Lots of other potential targets."
As soon as he was out of hearing range you let out a breath. "I'm so sorry," your voice quavers. "I should have...I should have told you."
"Told me what? That your ex-fiance is an asshole? That's not something you need to divulge."
"No...that...that I'm not..."
Jake leans in so that you're the only one who hears him. "You're more than just your virginity status. I'm sorry your first time was with him, he doesn't seem the type to make your pleasure a priority, but I'm not upset that you've had sex before."
You take as deep a breath as you can to steady yourself. "Thank you for that."
"So, can we leave the party yet?"
You check Jake's watch, trying not to be obvious about it. "We've got at least another half hour."
"When we do get out of here, would you be up for going out for some real food?"
You chuckle, "maybe delivery? Or take out? I'm not going to be able to eat much in this dress."
"Fair. And thank you for helping me get through all of this."
"Thank you for listening to my advice," you counter.
"Always," Jake affirms.
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Part 11 - Part 13
Series Masterlist
Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @embarrasingmf;
@irishhappiness; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82;
@ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63
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bloomzone · 14 hours ago
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Feeling Overwhelmed? You're Not Alone. Let's Talk About It..
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I know we all go through it. You’re balancing school, friends, family, and everything else, and suddenly, it feels like you're carrying the weight of the world. Lately, I've been feeling burned out, overwhelmed, and like everything is piling up at once. With school stress, exams, and the constant pressure to keep up, I sometimes feel like I can’t breathe. It's exhausting, and I'm sure some of you feel the same.
It’s so easy to get stuck in the cycle of trying to do everything perfectly. Every time you think you’ve got it under control, something else comes at you, and you’re back to square one and YES THIS IS ANNOYING!!!. It's like there’s a never-ending list of things to do, and no matter how hard you work, you never seem to catch a break.
And the worst part? The pressure from others. Whether it's friends, classmates, or even family, there's always someone asking you for help. Sometimes I feel like I’m the go-to person for everything—assignments, questions, last-minute requests. And don’t get me wrong, I want to be helpful, but it can get draining. Especially when you're trying to hold it together and just need a little space for yourself
For example:Today I couldn’t catch a break already stressed about exams, and in desperate need of rest. Just as I sat down to breathe, the calls and messages started.
One of my classmates began spamming me with messages, asking about a history and geography exam date that we ALL already knew. Then, another classmate began asking for English assignment answers. She wouldn’t stop. She kept sending, “Hi, hi, hi, hi…” over and over until I caved and responded.When I finally sent her the answers, her response? “Ahh, what would I do without you? You’re a lifesaver!” And while I know she meant it kindly, it felt so heavy I feel guilty. What about MY life? What about my peace?
In that moment, I realized how much I was giving to others and how little I was leaving for myself. I was pouring all my energy into helping everyone else while I was running on empty
And plus I’ve been in those moments when you’ve studied hard for an exam, thought you’re finally catching up, and then suddenly—a change happens. A test gets rescheduled, an assignment gets pushed to the last minute, and it feels like everything you worked for was just... wasted. I get it. And it’s okay to feel frustrated and angry about it. You’re allowed to feel this way. It doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human.
But here’s something I’ve been reminding myself lately: I am not responsible for everyone else's stress. It’s okay to say no, it’s okay to take a break, and it’s okay to not always have everything figured out. Taking care of yourself isn’t selfish; it’s necessary.
Here 5 Tips That Are Helping Me Cope with Stress and Burnout
1. Set Boundaries and Protect Your Energy: I’ve learned that it’s okay to say no. If someone’s asking for help, and you’re already feeling stretched thin, it’s okay to tell them, “I can’t right now.” You can’t pour from an empty cup, and you deserve your time and energy as much as anyone else does.
2. Don’t Overload Yourself—Take It One Step at a Time: Break your tasks into smaller, more manageable chunks. Don’t try to do everything at once—focus on one thing at a time. It makes the workload feel less daunting and more achievable. One task, one hour at a time.
3. Rest is Not a Luxury, It’s a Necessity: Sometimes we push ourselves too hard because we think we’ll get behind if we take a break. But if you don’t rest, you’ll burn out. Give yourself permission to step away, even for just 10 minutes. Watch a comforting youTube video, take a walk, or close your eyes. A little time for yourself can give you the energy to come back even stronger.
4. Talk About Your Feelings—Don't Bottle It Up: If you’re feeling overwhelmed, don’t keep it inside. Talk to someone, whether it’s a friendu trust family member, or even just writing in a journal like I do ..Putting your feelings into words can make a huge difference. It clears your mind and helps you see things from a new perspective.
5. Make Time for Self-Care: It’s easy to forget to take care of yourself when everything is going wrong. But self-care isn’t just about face masks and bubble baths (although that helps!). It’s about doing things that recharge you—reading, listening to music, or even just doing nothing. Find what makes you feel lighter and make time for it.
Let’s Take the Pressure Off Ourselves.
I know the world often tells us we have to be constantly productive, constantly moving forward. But the truth is, you don’t have to hustle all the time. It’s okay to slow down, take a breather, and focus on your well-being. The world will still be there when you're ready to take the next step. You are not a machine pookie. You are human, and you deserve peace.We’re not alone in this, even though it sometimes feels like we are. Everyone’s going through something, and sometimes just knowing that you’re not alone in your struggles can make a huge difference.Remember, it’s okay to not have it all together. It’s okay to be tired, to feel burnt out, to not always know what’s next. Life is hard, but you’re still here, still fighting, and that’s something to be proud of. I'm so proud of you
© bloomzone
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