Tumgik
#in the words of brittany broski:
nateezfics · 11 months
Note
Tumblr media
ima just start sending pics and nothing else
Tumblr media
24 notes · View notes
nathanbatemanfucker · 2 months
Text
who got a substantial, life changing raise after breaking up with their fuckass ex who stopped paying the bills? MEEEEEEE
47 notes · View notes
honnelander · 1 year
Note
omg omg have you seen the trailer for the new movie taz is gonna be in? he looks insanely hot I need a taz fic where he rides a motorbike cause just a second of him holding a helmet had me floored
it's on his ig btw
the way I freaking rAN OVER TO HIS IG I- 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫
GIRLLLL WHEN I SAW HIM ON THAT BIKE??!!!??? AND HIS HAIR??? HIS EXPRESSION?! HE’S JUST SO- 🥵🥵🥵
THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT-
Tumblr media
24 notes · View notes
fire-lord-katara · 1 year
Text
She's just like me fr fr
21 notes · View notes
fadedrosesblog · 1 year
Text
« Language is living history. Language is anthropology with a pulse. »
-Brittany Broski
38 notes · View notes
kpicard · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
to quote my gal Brittany Broski:
“I need him biblically. I need him in a way that is concerning to feminism”
35 notes · View notes
velarisdusk · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
me at lucien’s dialogue as if i’m not the one writing it
3 notes · View notes
verawhisk · 1 year
Text
gale’s comfy robes and astarion’s “eccentric outfit” = metaphor for maternity clothes
gale’s hunger for magical items and astarion’s thirst for blood = metaphor for pregnancy cravings
gale’s toxic attachment to mystra and astarion’s servitude to cazador = metaphor for awful situationship during college
gale’s mystra-tattoo and astarion’s cazador-scar = metaphor for getting tattoo of your gf/bf’s name that all your friends hate
gale becoming a god himself and astarion ascending = metaphor for becoming exactly your father
7 notes · View notes
only-one-brain-cell · 8 months
Text
THEY HUGGED AGAIN
5 notes · View notes
seluniite-archived · 1 year
Note
but eira i am free real estate
Her patience wears paper thin. She's facing away from Ozus, on her knees with freshly lit sticks of incense in hand. A subtle curl of fingers snaps them in half. She mutters a silent prayer for serenity, but the wrinkle in her brow cannot be helped as she snaps toward the warlock, pointing the halved incense in their direction.
❝ It's been a stressful day, Ozus, and I am not above swearing at you mid-prayer! ❞
4 notes · View notes
how-unhelpful · 2 years
Text
hello. twitter is dying. i haven’t been on this app since i was 13. but i crave the nostalgia. a return to the good old days if you will. how does this work. HELP.
3 notes · View notes
glynjohnsfurcoat · 3 months
Text
insane fucking pete photo that made me black out for a split second and it’s going under a read more because i respect my mutuals too much to make u guys look at pete townshend doing unrepentantly horny pinup boy shit
Tumblr media
0 notes
marxo-fm · 1 year
Text
Sessions
Part One. Part ii
Summary: You’re König’s therapist, and he is utterly and dangerously obsessed with you. He will do anything and everything to make you his.
Warnings: Adult themes and language, plot with smut, smut smut smut, thigh riding (omg this is crazy) stalkerish!König, toxic!König, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, König is filthy…FILTHY, praising.
Words: 4.2K
Tumblr media
A/N: I’ve played COD before but just a little so I have no clue about it all (LMAO) but anyways my fyp is invaded with König and Ghost, not complaining, so I decided to write a little something. I heard he’s unstable (?) and there’s a bunch of fics where he has a therapist so I was like…lemme write something like this. I will give credits to writers who’ve inspired me once I find their accounts because I lost them smh. So don’t thank me for this, thank them. Also thanks to Brittany Broski, my rightful leader, for talking about König on the Broski Report Podcast. Made me want to write him some more tbh. ALSO THE GIF??? So scary in the hottest way.
Tumblr media
It’s been awhile since König’s last therapy session with you, and it’s been driving him crazier by the minute. He realized now, just how much he wants you, how much he desperately needs you.
——
Weeks turned into days, then hours, minutes, and then seconds. Every tick of the clock had König going mental. The thought of not spending those seconds with you drove him mad and drove him with such urgency to have you by him. To be inside of you, at that.
Fists clenched then unclenched, König couldn't stand it any longer. Desperation ran in his veins like a predator watching their prey. He wanted nothing else but to see what you were up to, and visiting your home, was just the solution to his thoughts and needs.
(…)
It's been a few weeks since your appointment with König, and you're growing concerned. You look at the empty chair in your office, that's been sitting lonely for quite a few weeks. He hasn't called or informed you on why he's been absent, and you're sure he never will
In all honesty, you have no clue why you're so upset about it. Upset about a client who's been absent for weeks too much to count. Maybe it's because you can't help him anymore, well—not anymore, he's still your client. But the mere fact that he's not there to tell you about his problems and stories, or how his day was, bothered you.
Sure, he has things to do. So much more important than meeting up with your therapist right? Surely not, you want to help König to the best of your ability—but he made it so difficult.
You get a phone call that snaps you out of your haze, you pick it up. Only to hear a client of yours on the phone bringing their appointment up, which is today. "Yes! Today at six, correct." You assured, sitting down promptly on your office chair. You're glad you have clients today, something that'll keep you busy.
(…)
König is sitting outside in his car in the rain. The pattering of the rain took over his rather obsessive thoughts. Not only was he in the car alone, but he was right outside your home.
He peeks through your window, seeing only a dim light through the blinds of your house. His chest rose as he took a deep breath, chuckling to himself about how insane this all is. Going all out for your therapist? Never would he have thought to be doing such thing, but he can't help his desires.
He sighs, he gets the urge to exit his car and step foot inside your house and it made him feel dizzy. The thought of just stepping foot inside your property and seeing the items, the furniture—and so forth—that belonged to you. Something you've chosen out and purchased for yourself, with love. Now that, drove him on edge.
He finally exits his car, slamming it shut behind him. The rain drops hit his huge frame and he takes bigger steps to the front of your house. Eager to see the place you call home. The place you eat, sleep, and breathe in. It's all insane, he thought, but he's König. Insanity doesn't faze him.
"Fucking hell, the fuck am I doing?" He chuckled to himself as he somehow manipulated his way into your house. His wet boots are off and placed on the rug that says, "welcome" which is funny in this situation.
He looks around the well kept home, the dimly lit kitchen and living room, as well as the deliciously scented candle that's lit in the living room. Smells like you, coconut and bliss. He takes it in, like the maniac he is.
There was nothing really intriguing to the eye in your home, it's simple and basic, but still very homey. You had your favorite comics on the tv table and the tv was obviously shut off, books were stacked against the bookshelf and a few magazines were on the tables. You love to read, guess that's new information for König to keep to himself.
His big frame hovers over your iPad, without hesitation, he opened it. There wasn't a passcode, just a simple press of the home button and he was in, it wasn't like you had anything to hide and König found amusement in that. König chuckled, there was simply nothing on the iPad besides dates on your calendars that showed you have appointments throughout the month.
"Busy little one, aren't you, Mein Schatz?" He breathed through his mask, though he took it off for the time being, there was no reason to hide himself through a mask when home alone.
He misses you, and it's getting more painful not having you there with him, in your home. He's wondering what you're up to now, and how much time he has left before that lock of your front door turns.
It's a bad idea, he's already seen everything he wanted to see, and now it's time to leave.
Quickly, he puts his wet boots back on and turns the door knob slowly. He looks back at your place and then smiles, this surely won't be the last time he's inside. And he'll make sure it'll be the both of you inside the home at the same time.
(…)
"Anything else you'd like to share, Ghost?" You question Ghost, his eyes telling you so much he hasn't said yet, and you doubt he'll tell you more. You wish he'd say more though, but you're actually proud of today’s session. He shared more than the other sessions, that's always a huge milestone.
"No." He said sternly, his British accent thick and his voice gravely. "Okay great. I'll see you next week then?" He cleared his throat and walks to the door, "busy."
"So when are you able to?" You wonder, "I'll call when I can." He opens the door from your office and leaves. You sigh, at least you tried to the best of your abilities. You close your notebook shut, putting the notebook back into your drawer as you finally set the pen down after.
So, where we're you again? Ah, it's time to go home. Finally.
Well—not just yet. As you're getting your things ready to leave, you hear your office phone ring. Your brows furrowed in confusion as to who's calling this late, all sessions are...closed.
"Hello?" You question, hearing heavy breathing over the phone—you shudder. "Schatz, it's me." The German accent rolled off the man's tongue over the phone, your heart dropped in response. König.
"K-König?" You stuttered, in disbelief at the sudden call. "Mhm, I'm calling to apologize for not coming to our sessions but if I'm being honest...I want to have a session soon this week." He explained over the phone, your brows scrunched.
You're free this week, no sessions left, well one session now. It surprised you that König chose to call you so late over an appointment, but it didn't bother you, just—stunned you. "Of course, when would you like-" König interrupts you suddenly, "tomorrow." He breathed, his voice lower than usual. Laced with huskiness and exhaustion, and need.
Tomorrow? You can't turn that down, because you know that if you do, he won't come to another session for a long time—you feared. You clear your voice over the line, heart beating faster by the second and you're not sure as to why. Must be the sudden urge to come to a session, or maybe because he wants it soon. It's not like you're busy tomorrow or anything, but the mere fact that you'll see König after God knows how long made you nervous.
Something must be wrong, you're sure of it.
"Sure! Tomorrow at two, promise me you'll be there?" He never breaks promises, not with you he doesn't. He agrees over the phone, and the date is officially set. Grabbing your pen you just placed down, you take your König's personal journal and write the date down for tomorrow.
(…)
He was trying to stay composed but it's getting hard. His desires have become more stronger by the minute, and he wanted nothing more than to have you by him.
He ended the call, smirking under the mask after finally hearing your soft voice over the phone. You invaded his mind like a virus he's unable to get rid of, but in all honesty he doesn't want to get rid of it. He would stare at pictures of you all day, and the thought that bothers him the most—the one that boils his blood—is knowing that you have sessions with other men that's not him. Most of them he despises, the other ones he's not really worried about, since well—they're his friends.
It's almost sickening how much he wants you, how much he deeply needs you. Now, König sits on his bed. Mask off and so is his shirt. Revealing nothing but his well crafted muscles and his mind going hundreds of miles per hour of just you.
And to fix that "issue" he takes his rough right hand and puts it underneath his sweats, and then under the hem of his boxers. Finally, he grabs his thick cock tightly and leans his head back. Nothing but images of you holding his dick for him instead, and that just about does it for him. Quickly, he starts to slowly stroke up and down, groans fill the silent room. His strong hand grips the sheets of his bed, the delicate fabric became victim to his touch.
The rings in his ear became louder as he swiped his thumb over his tip that was already leaking, everything around König became a blur as he thought of you continuously. He's never been this obsessed with someone until he met you. He gripped onto his dick harder and his body starts to burn with flames too powerful to put out—and his heart beats quicker.
He's closer to his high than ever, throwing his head back due to the aching pleasure that consumed him. His eyes look at the ceiling, all that hunts his mind is you. You hunt him every second of his day, even when it's König hunting for you. His insides began tightening, the way his cock began to throb in his hand and how his precum brushes against his calloused fingers when his hands move to his sensitive area.
He lets out a final grunt as he looks at the mess he made in his lap, wishing you were there to clean it all up. His orgasm hit him harder than ever, and his breath is shaky. Stunned at how good you made him feel, it wasn't him that made himself feel good, no—it was you. All of it.
He tensed at first, letting rope after rope of his come dirty his abs and sheets. "Look at what you fucking do to me, Liebe." He whispered, beads of sweat roll off his forehead.
(…)
The next day passed, the day König booked his session to see you. Of course he wanted to talk to you about what's going on, but he mostly made the appointment to see you. It's been a long long time. He puts on his uniform and mask, getting all ready for his missions and well—seeing you.
——
You hear a knock. A knock so familiar and it wasn't just like any other knocks from your clients. König had a habit of knocking exactly four times, and it's a habit he has with you. You shout, "welcome in!" as you take your notebook and pen out. You put your glasses on and present yourself professionally.
König's huge frame stands before you, and you gasped. It's been so long since you've last seen him, you’re now practically strangers. "König! You're here." You proclaimed, welcoming him with a simple hand motion to the chair. "Hello, Mein Schatz." He greets, his voice husky. He looks at you through his eyes, investigating the way you sit professionally and have everything well kept and neat. It almost bothered him, in a good way.
You broke the tension with a question, “anything new?” He continued taking a good look at you, hungrily. It doesn’t show through his mask, but his eyes tells you everything you need to know.
You cleared your throat, waiting for König’s response. “I don’t like the new addition to the missions.” He said sternly, his fists clench and you could tell that bothered him to the extreme. “Why is that? Do you perhaps think they’re weak and unnecessary?” You queried.
He shifts in his spot, “Ja, I don’t like unnecessary addictions. I find it a nuisance.”
“Is it because you prefer having the men you’re familiar with more.. than the new men looking to work the same missions as you?” He prompts his elbows on his knees, leaning closer to the conversation. He is clearly interested in answering. “Yes. Exactly. We don’t need anymore men, we have quite enough of them.” His German accent is thicker, deeper. Cutting through like knife to butter. Your pen wrote down his answers as well as your thoughts in the notebook.
He watched you like a hawk, looking at you closely while you do your job. “Is there anything else, König?” You wonder, his dull eyes sparkled when he hears you say his name. “Hm,” he voiced, “you.”
Your brows furrow at his answer, you cross your legs and place your pen down. Unsure of what he means, and well of course, the therapist you are, you think maybe he has something he needs to say about you. “Did I do something wrong?” You stammered, unable to look him in his piercing gaze.
He chuckled, and you think maybe you embarrassed yourself with such question. “No, Mein Schatz, I need you.” He put forth. Your stomach drops at his answer, crimson red swipes across your cheek and you feel as though you’re going to pass out.
Never in a million years would you have thought to hear König admitting to the fact that he needs you. It stunned you in all honesty.
“I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, Ich werde verrückt.” He points his index finger to his head, “what does that mean?” You question. The part where he spoke in German, you wonder what he means.
He stood up, and you scooted your chair back in response. “It means I’m going crazy, Liebe, you drive me crazy.” König voiced.
You mistook his answer, mistook it thinking that you made him crazy in the worst way possible. “I-I’m sorry, we can gladly stop our sessio-“ he interrupts you, and it’s not the first time.
“Ts ts, I don’t want to. I meant,” he paused, then began, “you drive me crazy with need.” He explained.
You never knew you made him feel that way, and you look around the office just thinking about how unprofessional this all is. “König, when would you like your next session?” You dismissed what he said earlier, you just need to recollect yourself. Your feelings, thoughts and emotions. He just looks at you, quietly.
You walk to the door, and he walks behind you. Each step he took was heavy—and loud, sending shudders throughout your body. He stood behind you, the heat radiating from his body and on to yours.
His right arm reaches out for the doorknob and your heart dropped into a million pieces. God, he knew how to make anyone nervous.
He opens the door for you, and he finds himself out first, but before he does, he says something. “Next week, Friday.” He states, and then walks out of your office.
You take deep breaths, like you’ve been choked and you’ve lost all oxygen. You’ve realized now, just how much König’s little actions made you feel hundreds of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
(…)
König steps foot inside your office. It’s Friday, and what happened the last session felt like it happened yesterday. His mind is all you, it’s all its ever been. Now he will use this opportunity to his dismay. “Hello, König.” You greet professionally, seated on your black chair.
König takes a careful look at you, he misses you immensely although it’s been a week. He noticed your outfit. Your tight black skirt that hugged your curves perfectly, and your white button up accentuating your breasts. He could open your legs wide right then and there and devour you like he hasn’t eaten in days, he’s drooling at the thought.
You turn to speak, and his entire attention shifts to your plump lips. And of course, König’s mind is filled with dirty thoughts. Too lewd to think out loud.
“Is there anything in particular that you would like to discuss today?” Your soft voice made his ears ring, and he couldn’t help the bulge forming in his pants. König wanted to admit that you’ve been on his mind, but he held himself back and contained it. “I’ve just been stressed.” He admits, and it’s true. All the mission stuff had him drained by the second.
“Oh? And why is that?” You questioned, he manspreads on your couch in the office, using the space to sit comfortably. His long legs and big thighs were spread apart, making it a perfect seat for you to sit on, is what he’s thinking. You gulp at the sight in front of you, and he takes his time with his answer.
“I don’t know, honestly. There’s just something new everyday.” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
You get up from your seat and prompt yourself next to him. His knees touching yours, and your actions shocked König—just a tad. That’s a lie, it shocked him, a lot.
He wanted to fulfill his fantasies right there, he had you in his sight and reach, but again—containing himself. “Talk to me, König.” You comfort, rubbing small circles on his hand. The action caused him to flinch, but he doesn’t say anything—yet.
After a few seconds, he answers, “I got into a fight with a lieutenant. I’d rather save that for another session.” Groaned König. “Okay, if that makes you comfortable.” You drawl, “how about coming to three sessions in a row? When would you like your next appointment?” You made sure to ask if there was anything else, but to your surprise—there wasn’t.
“Today.” He states sternly, you’re confused. “It’s already today, König?” You trailed off, dissociating at his answer. “I know, Liebe, I want our session to begin today.”
“But we’ve already finished our session for today.” You argued, all that König had contained was finally let out. He grabs his hand and wraps it around your throat, his actions made you let out a loud gasp, and with that—König lifts his mask up and kisses you.
You instinctively kiss him back, aware of how unprofessional this all is, but oddly enough—you didn’t really care.
König groans against your hot mouth, sending vibrations down your entire body. König felt like he was in a dream, finally kissing you didn’t feel real, you tasted too good to be real. He finally has you in his reach, and in his mouth. Your scent overtook his senses, and it drove him right over the edge. He could fall off and die happily, knowing he’s finally tasted you.
You deepen the kiss, and he bit your bottom lip in return, alerting you to open your mouth wider and let him in. He wants to devour you whole and you just let it happen. His tongue finds yours, and there you both are, kissing each other so roughly. His grip on your neck tightens just a little, not too hard, still allowing you to breathe. Though the kiss had you suffocating already.
More, more, more. Is what König says to himself in his mind, but you let go of the kiss. String of saliva leaves his mouth as you let go. Oxygen had left your body entirely, and you’re there gasping for air. You wouldn’t be surprised to see if your lips had been bruised from the rough and deep kiss. You’ve never been kissed like that before, or ever.
The both of you pant, you can’t believe what just happened. You’ve fully realized what he meant earlier, insisting he has another session. This is the session, and you don’t think it’s going to end soon. “Come here.” He ordered, patting his thigh. Your eyes dart to his big thighs, thighs that could crush you if he wanted to.
You did as he said, sitting right down on his right leg, in your point of view—to your left. He holds your waist tightly, balancing you so you don’t fall. Though you’re already holding onto his broad shoulders for support. “Why do you have me like this?” You question, flustered. König loves to see it, to see you flustered even though you never tried to admit it. He had that power.
“Liebe, do you know just how much I crave you? How much I’ve wanted to see you like this…?” he began, “you’re going to do as I say, right?” He asked lowly. You nod, heat rushing throughout your entire body from his needy words. You never knew how much he needed you, and it actually hit you. König, out of all people.
Secretly, you loved that. His desperation made you admire him, it must’ve been so difficult to contain such desires and feelings. Unaware of what he’ll say or do next, you wait. Patiently.
“Ride me, Mein Schatz.” Your mouth gaped open at his words, his fingers dug deep into your skirt, so deep you’re afraid it’ll leave a bruise. “K-König, what?” In disbelief, you stay still. You’ve never done anything of the sort, for fucks sake, you’re a virgin. König doesn’t know that—yet. Though you plan on telling him. And you plan on telling him now.
“I’ve never done this before, I’m a virgin, König.” You murmured lowly, but still loud enough for him to hear. “Oh, meine Prinzessin,” he looks at you like some prized treasure you are. His prized treasure that he wanted to display for the world to see. “Do you want to do this?” He consented, you look at him with eyelids so heavy.
You’re more than sure you want to do this with him, virginity isn’t a game, and you knew that. He knew that too. But you want to give it to König and you’ve already confirmed it before saying anything.
“I…I do.” You cup his face, hidden back underneath his mask. “I can’t go on if you’re not sure, liebe, tell me—do you want to do this?” He repeats his question, and you want to shout at his face the word yes, but you remain calm. “I really do, König. Show me the real you.”
“Want me to show you?” His accent is stronger laced with hunger, pulling you closer to him. He got the affirmation he needed, and you nod in assurance. He grabs your hips at once, and slowly moves them back and forth. Your brows furrow at the feeling of your soaked panties grinding against his rough combat pants. The new feeling had you addicted and König loves to see you fall apart little by little.
His cock ached and pressed harder against his pants as your hands grip onto his broad shoulder, tighter. The friction from his pants and your grinding made you let out a moan you didn’t know you were capable of making. A moan König could only hear in his head, except it became reality, and König was trapped in a haze. He saw the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your lips pout as he helped you ride it out.
“So beautiful.” He huffs, pulling you back and forth even faster. You could feel your stomach twist into knots, alerting you that your orgasm is near, but riding against his thigh wasn’t enough. You needed more. “K-König…please.” You whimpered out, he tilts his head, getting the hint.
“Please what? Mein Schatz?” It felt like he was teasing you, but maybe he just needs to know what you’re saying please for. “Touch me.” You demand, desperately needing his rough and big fingers to touch you. “Ohhh darling, you don’t have to ask me twice.” He does just as you asked, rubbing slow circles with the pad of his thumb on your clothed cunt. He smiled under his mask at how wet you are.
The bundle of nerves formed tightly, forming at the very pit of your stomach. Flames ran through your veins and your body burned with lust. You found it difficult to hold his gaze as your orgasm is nearing. “You’re too good to me, liebe, you’re doing so good.” He praised, his eyes focused on your motions and he could just come at the sight of that. “K-König! I’m going to-“ he interrupts you, grabbing your hips with both of his hands and moves you back and forth impossibly faster.
“Come, schön, be a good fucking girl for me and let it out. I know you can do it.” He grunts, talking you through it. His praising and words of encouragement did just enough for you to reach your high. It felt like fireworks were exploding in your stomach, and your legs shook. It was all too much to bare, and you still rode it out.
“Attagirl, wasn’t so hard now was it, meine Liebe?” He appeals, holding your waist still as you tried to regain every last bit of dignity left with each inhale and exhale. “You think we’re done yet? Oh love, we’re just getting started.”
——
NOTE: This is just part 1 peeps, I honestly thought it was getting a bit too long (imo) so I thought—hey—why not turn this into a mini series? Hehe. Stay tuned for part 2, coming very soon. Also, if you’d like to be in my tag list, it’d be my pleasure. Just let me know in the comments. (Btw, English is definitely not my first language…so if there are any grammatical errors and mistakes, please let me know in the comments so I can fix them.)
:)
2K notes · View notes
calypsocolada · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
BEGIN AGAIN | nanami
(this is part two! click here for part one)
synopsis: nanami ruined his wedding for you, now's he just waiting for your call. authors note: as peoples princess brittany broski once said, 'i need him in a way thats concerning to feminism'. enjoy :) cw: cussing, angst, wingman!gojo, making out, fluff wc: 2.4k
--------------------------------------------------------
You sink into your seat at the bar, fingers around a cold glass, the condensation dripping onto your hand. This was your third drink of the night, and you were aiming for a lot more. There were things you were wanting to shove down and forget, if only for the night. But the night was young, the sun hadn’t even begun to set yet, still golden in the sky. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and before you even dared to look at it you took a gulp of your drink. Let it ring and ring before you breathed in and pulled your phone towards your face. Gojo’s contact filled up on the screen. Not exactly who you were wanting to hear from but you answered nevertheless. 
“Don’t start.” You said immediately into the speaker. You heard Gojo laugh, it sounded like more of a scoff to you though. 
“Shouldn’t have even picked up then.” He joked. You grabbed your drink in preparation for this conversation.
“I texted him, alright.” You sighed out.
“You texted him? Texted. Come on, Y/n. He’s practically in his fifties, he’s not gonna read your text.” Gojo said as you rolled your eyes hard enough to give yourself a headache. 
“He read it.”
“And didn’t respond?” Gojo asked. You were quiet. 
“I shouldn’t have even texted him. I should’ve just, ya know, let things go. You’re a terrible influence.” You sighed, gulping down the rest of your drink. Gojo laughed this time, like what you said should’ve been obvious. And it was, but when it came to someone you loved you did stupid things. You always did stupid things. 
“What did you text?”
“I’m not gossiping with you, Gojo, I’m trying to enjoy my night.”
“Where are you?”
“No, I don’t want company.”
“Okayyyy. What did you text him then?” Gojo asked exasperatedly. You sighed heavily, pulling up the text even though you had reread it over and over and over again for the past few hours.
“I said, ‘I know you probably don’t want to hear this from me but Gojo told me you were getting married. I'm happy for you. Congratulations!’.” There was a silence over the phone that made your patience run thin. “Well?”
“I told you he was getting married so you could stop the whole thing, not congratulate him.” Gojo finally replied as you sucked in a breath. 
“I’m not a homewrecker, Satoru.”
“He’s not happy.”
“Has he ever been?”
“Yes! With you!” Gojo argues as you let your head fall against your hand as you rub your temples. This conversation was having the very same effect you had been trying to avoid all day. The inevitability of your past being trudged up. You heard Gojo sigh over the phone. “I don’t want to force you into doing something you don’t want to do, Y/n. I never got the chance to tell someone that I loved them and I never will. I don’t want that for you.” You closed your eyes. Now you just felt selfish, like a kid crying over something trivial. 
“You just had to go there.” You said, pulling out your card to pay for the drinks, any hopes of forgetting and moving on seemed to be stopped in their tracks. 
“Nanami would be content in never being happy again if he thought it was in your best interest.” Gojo says, his words cutting you right to the bone. You pushed from your seat and walked towards the entrance when you saw the white haired man sitting at a table just outside. He gave you a wave as you rolled your eyes, walking out to him. 
“Are you stalking me now?” You asked as Gojo patted the chair next to him with his hand. Reluctantly you sat, slouching slightly. 
“You have terrible awareness by the way.”
“Shut up.” You snap, not actually angry. Gojo leans back, crossing his legs as he looks over at you. 
“Are you okay?” He asks as you sigh heavily. 
“I just want to go home and not have to think about Nanami.” You say and part of you really meant it. You’d been thinking of him since the day you left him. Wondering if you made the right choice. You two were young but you’d never felt anything close to what he made you feel and that scared you. 
“Let’s not talk about it then.”
“Gojo, come on, you came all the way out here to play wingman for your friend.” 
“You and I used to be friends too.” He points out. You two used to be very close back when you and Nanami were together. You missed that probably just as much as you missed Nanami. 
“You’re too cool for me now.” You say and Gojo tilts his head back in laughter. 
“Yeah, right.” He laughs. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and when you pull it out your heart drops right out of your chest. Gojo reads your expression with ease. “Answer it.” He says as you place your phone down on the table, shaking your head. Gojo sighs, looking at you with his striking eyes. “What’s wrong?” He asks as you swallow, turning to look away from him.
“I already feel like shit for texting him, Satoru. He’s moved on. He’s getting married for christ sake.” At that statement Gojo laughs with his full chest. 
“He will never move on and neither will you. You both are stubborn and prideful.” He says as you turn to look at him. 
“This is why we’re not friends anymore.” You say as Gojo smiles, slinging an arm around your shoulders. Your phone buzzes one last time and you know it’s because Nanami has left you a voicemail. You push Gojo away and grab your phone, standing up from your chair. Sure enough there’s a single missed call and voicemail from Nanami. You swallow, your throat dry as you pull the phone up to your ear. 
“I wanna hear!” Gojo jests as you flip him off. You hear Nanami’s voice, his tone raspy and almost desperate as he speaks. 
“I don’t know if you're asleep or not. I know our time zones are different. I just-- I wanted to talk to you. I don’t want to say what I have to say over the phone but I need you to know. I still love you. I’m not ever going to stop. I ruined my wedding, I ruined everything. Just,” He pauses and you can almost hear your own heartbeat. “Please call me back.”
Nanami grips the steering wheel, a car honking behind him. He hadn’t noticed when the light turned green. He pressed his foot on the gas. Nothing felt real, he kept getting lost in times that he wished he’d know again. Times where you were there. He wasn’t far from home and as he kept driving his eyes would dart to his phone, he wanted nothing more in this world than for your contact to pop up on his phone. But it was too late. He’d fucked it all up. You were happy he moved on, you’d told him that and still foolishly he imploded the entire day. 
A chance with you was worth it. You were always worth it.
Happiness was fleeting for him. Before he met you he was just going through the motions. You taught him things, taught him to try and enjoy life. The simple things. That working to the grave wasn’t his only option. But he wanted to provide for you, wanted you to never have to worry about anything and when he set his mind to something sometimes he got lost in it. He lost you. He tried to replace you, to fill the hole that you carved in him but nothing fit. Nanami just felt like shit, for finding someone and almost marrying them when he should’ve just been alone. He should just be alone. 
“Nanami?” He hadn’t even noticed when he left his car, until he was walking up to his front porch where you sat. Nanami startled slightly, stumbling back a step. He couldn’t believe his eyes. You, with your doe eyes and pink lip, looking at him in a way that twisted his stomach. 
“Y/n… What- what’re you doing here?” He asked. He took in the sight of you, your tousled hair looked at though you ran your hands through it a few times. You waved your phone at him.
“I got your message.” You said simply. Nanami swallowed. He wanted to play Mr. Cool Guy but he couldn’t fucking form a single coherent thought right now. The last time he saw you was when you were packing your things to leave him. Nanami reached up, loosening the tie around his neck, sighing. 
“I’m sorry, did it ruin your night?” He asked, he watched your eyes, how they took in the sight of him in a suit. The suit he was supposed to be married in. 
“Did my text ruin yours?” You asked. Nanami scoffed, amusement on his lips.
“Yes.” He said as your brows shot up slightly. 
“I wanted to be supportive.” You say, throat dry. Nanami looked entirely too handsome right now. He was always handsome but something about him in a suit, hair a mess, tie loosened was doing something to your insides. 
“I didn’t want your support.” He said, walking forwards slightly. You wondered if you’d misheard his voicemail, if he was angry at you for the text. You sighed. 
“You can thank Gojo then, he’s been badgering me all week.” You say as Nanami smirks. 
“You too?” He asks as you laugh slightly. The tension easing just a bit. You swallowed, looking up at him.
“Did you really call off your wedding?” You ask. His eyes meet yours, the air turns electric. He nods his head. You couldn’t imagine what shit show he’d just caused. The poor girl he left at the altar. “Jesus.” You say simply. It really only took one text to change the course of his entire life. 
“Did you mean what you said in the text? Were you happy for me?” He asks as you swallow. 
“Yes and no.” You say. Nanami takes another step forwards, sliding to sit next to you on the porch. You turn to face him, his striking eyes and sharp lines. He looked tired, exhausted even. He reached into the space between you, tucking your hair out of your face. You leaned into that touch, after all you craved it for years.
“I love you.” Nanami says softly, letting it linger in the air. Your heart skips, you suck in a breath. “I’ve loved you since that first night.” 
That first night. When you met Nanami you were a mess. You’d been in a shitty on and off relationship with a boy back home. You were waitressing at some diner in the city. You’d just come off your break where the boy you thought you loved told you he wanted to take some more time apart. You had mascara all down your cheeks and when you went to take Nanami’s order he was kind and attentive. He told you that loving someone shouldn’t be this hard, it shouldn’t leave you in such turmoil. You took that to heart because he was right. Loving isn't all easy but it's worth it when it's right. Nanami left you with an extremely generous tip. You thought you wouldn’t see him again but a day or so passed and he was back. He wanted to check in on you. You asked him to get lunch with you on your break and that was that. You ended up kissing him by the end of the day because the moment he checked in on you, someone who was practically a stranger you had fallen for him. Loving Nanami was easy, then it wasn’t, and now you weren’t sure which it would fall under, but you knew you still loved him.  
“I was a mess.” You say affectionately as Nanami’s mouth quirks in a smirk, his eyes looking from yours to your lips, lingering there. 
“So am I.” He whispers in the space between you two. Desire feels like a kick to the stomach, his voice raspy and wanting.
"We did a lot of wrong back then." You said. Nanami shook his head.
"I did. Not you."
"Nanami, it's not all on you." You start but he kissed you quick.
"I appreciate your apology but I don't accept it. You tried to make it work, you made time when I didn't. I was the asshole, I know that." He says, thumb rubbing against your cheek. "I want you, desperately. I want to make this work, I want to make time." He lists off. You swallowed, fingers gripping the porch so as to not yank Nanami against your lips. But the famine settled for Nanami, the desire for more now that you're here right in front of him. In the flesh. His eyes flick to yours. He couldn’t afford to look at you for this long, as it was entirely difficult to look away once he started. He watched your throat bob. There was so much to unpack, so much to say but there was a universal way to make things known. "Let me show you how much I want this." He breathes out against your lips. 
Nanami’s fingers slide into your hair as he brings you against him, taking your lips with his own. A thunderstorm erupted at the action. Your hands grip the front of his dress shirt as you move your lips in time with his. Kissing him felt so natural, like sliding into a comfortable routine. Like no time had passed. Nanami pulls away and sweeps you to your feet, kissing you passionately as he pushes you back against his front door, body caging over yours. You gasp into his mouth, the desire mingling with want making you sick with love. You could talk in the morning. There was always morning. You're not sure when Nanami got the door unlocked but you're dragging him inside as his hand pulls you by the chin, lips enveloping yours as you stumble inside. Things crash in the wake of you and Nanami’s hurricane. Your breaths heavy, practically panting into each other's mouths as he pulls you on top of him on the stairs. His hands travel to your hips, digging into the skin there as your fingers slide up under his shirt. He shivers against your cold fingers. He picked you up then, a startled giggle erupting from your lips as he kissed you quiet, hauling you off to his bedroom. You’d thank Gojo in the morning, his meddling finally did some good. 
Nanami pressed you into the soft comforter on his bed, caging your body with his own. He pushed your legs apart with his knee and peppered kisses over your cheek to your jaw and down to your neck. You breath hitched as his trailed his lips back up to your own. You closed your eyes as flashes of Nanami standing on the altar assaulted your thoughts. You hadn't noticed your jealously until now. Wondering what world of hurt you were in for if he had gone through with it. You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and brought him as close as possible. If you had it your way Nanami would only get married once in his life, and it would be to you.
--------------------------------------------------------
tags: @vlbi
355 notes · View notes
corrodedcoffins-blog · 10 months
Text
Times Jack&co were in Y/n's videos
main masterlist
jack hughes x commentary youtuber!reader universe
note: the videos Y/n films is completely inspired/stolen from Brittany Broski, from 'brooke and conner make a podcast', as well as moments from the sturiolo triplets :) go check them all out if you haven't yet, they're all very funny
Tumblr media
Since Y/n had just moved in with her boyfriend and his brother, none of her furniture was with her, and therefore she couldn’t film in her new office, unless she wanted to sit on the floor. So she made sure it was alright with both brothers if she could film in the living room. The two hockey players of course said yes, not having a reason not to.
“‘Why don’t you believe Italy is real?’”
Luke had just walked in to get water from the kitchen, not thinking anything of it as he listened in on his brother’s girlfriend’s video.
“Okay, ‘Italy’” Y/n says, making a quotation motion with her fingers, “There’s no way a country is actually shaped that way. That is the dumbest shape I have ever seen. Italy is filled with a bunch of goofy little guys too, number one being the Pope.” She says, both Y/n and Luke bursting into laughter.
“What the fuck?” Luke laughs out looking towards Y/n.
“Sorry about him. Anyway… I wish Italy was real.”
-
“Listen to me. The best post nut clarity-” Y/n gets cut off by her boyfriend laughing, while entering the front door with Luke, both back from practice. Y/n getting a “WHAT?” from Luke.
“Ignore them- the best post nut clarity is quitting a job you hate, you just think ‘what the fuck was I doing?’ trust me, quit your job. Next question.”
-
“My supreme court- it’s gonna be like a March Madness type of thing and, hey, maybe I don’t know what that means by the way.”
“You don’t know what that means.” Luke says, from his spot leaning against the kitchen counter, not looking up from his phone.
“Don’t listen to him. We’re gonna do a March Madness thing-”
During Y/n’s first visit to the Lake House, Trevor asked if they could do the deaf, mute, and blind baking challenge. And of course Y/n said yes, together they got Jack to agree, as long as Trevor was the mute one.
“I need a towel.” Jack says, his hand covered in egg yolk, and being blind he couldn’t exactly grab it himself.
“Whisk it, love.”
“A towel.”
“Whisk it.”
“Baby, a towel.” The hockey player said, over pronouncing his words, hoping his girlfriend could read his lips. Trevor was just listening, while grabbing the whisk himself and whisking the batter.
“Whisk.”
“Babe. A. Towel.”
Y/n gives a confused look towards, what she calls their peanut gallery, looking towards Quinn for help. He points towards the towel for her.
“Ohhhh. Baby just say that.”
-
While Y/n was helping a blind Jack wash his hands, Trevor decided it would be best for him to pour the batter into the cupcake trays. All the while getting the batter seemingly everywhere. After drying Jack’s hands, Y/n turns around to see Trevor trying to clean up his mess.
“What the fuck?”
“What?” a clueless Jack asks, “What he do.”
“He got batter everywhere, it’s crazy because you’re not blind. So in theory you should be able to do that.” Y/n says, causing Trevor to nod along.
Also while on the Lake House trip, Trevor asked to film a podcast episode with her, which included all the guys. Y/n had to have some structure for the episode or it would just not be usable, the guys would talk over each other. 
“Would you rather never cut your hair again, or never cut your toenails again. Never cut your hair obviously.” Y/n said, reading the questions off her phone. 
“Yeah, hair.”
“Hair.”
“Never trim toenails again.” Trevor said into his mic. 
“Trevor. What?” 
“I would file my toenails.”
Y/n rolls her eyes, before saying, “I- yeah.”
-
“Smash or Pass Smurfette?”
“Pass obviously? She’s a 2 inch Smurf”
“Nah, Smurfette lowkey-”
The group turns to look at Luke, mouths dropped, as Y/n says, “We simply have to move on from that.”
-
“Ketchup or mustard? Ketchup. But you really hate ketchup.”
“Yeah.”
“He hates it so  much, if it’s even close to his meal, he won’t eat it.” Luke cuts in.
“Okay, so how close to your meal could ketchup be where you would still eat it?”
“...Baby tomatoes.” Jack says, before all the boys burst into laughter, Y/n still laughing while saying. “Jack baby, we’re talking distance, sweetheart.”
-
“Can I ask you something?” Cole asks Y/n, looking from over Trevor. 
“Yeah.”
“Who are your top celeb crushes?”
“Just three?” Cole nods, while Y/n needs to think, “Have to be Harry Styles. Duh. Then… Florence Pugh, I love her, and Andrew Garfield.”
“Now fuck, marry, kill those three.”
“No.” Y/n says immediately, causing the guys to laugh, “No… Okay, Marry- No! Kill… I can’t. We have to move on or the rest of the hour will be me sitting here thinking about it.”
-
“So what do you know about hockey?”
“Trev, to be honest, I can’t say I know much. I know that…”
“So that answers that.” Quinn says, after Y/n pauses for a few moments.
“No, I know somethings, I know that there are only five guys allowed on the ice, plus the goalie. But you know that.”
The guys are quiet for a moment assuming Y/n will name a few more rules she knows, but Luke speaks up when she’s still silent, “You don’t know much, huh.”
“Okay, what do you know about Digimon? We all have our areas.”
-
“How much money have you spent on Digimon cards?” Quinn asks, from the end of the couch, Jack between them.
“I spent $6,000 on one blister pack.”
“Are you serious?”
“That’s insane.”
“God.. So you’re like a full blown nerd.”
“Thanks Trevor.”
~taglist~
@inejghafawifesblog
298 notes · View notes
sergle · 10 months
Text
I really truly, from the bottom of my heart, hate you bitches so much, because on the tiktok of literally COCK AND BALL jokes w brittany broski, there were a few notes/messages like this:
Tumblr media
And I KNOW you don't think anyone's going to check. You had someone go into your askbox and say "hiii brittany broski is shitty about palestine she's really ignorant :/" and you went oh omg I didn't know!! thanks for telling me! So I checked! This is in reference to her talking in her podcast, because people were asking why she hadn't done any big press statements about Palestine, you didn't retweet this or that, you must not care, don't you care, what's your stance, etc etc please say more OKAY COOL. So what's going on there? What did Brittany say on her podcast? Is she a Bad Person? Can I have some transcript, please? ____ "Hey guys, before we get into this week's episode, I want to talk to you about the ongoing and prolonged suffering and loss of life in Gaza, in Israel, and the oppression of Palestinian people widespread. I don't ever want it to be a question that I would ever not be against the oppression of any group of people, that I would ever stand on the side of the oppressor." "There was a lot of fear of misusing my platform." ... "I will admit that I was nervous to talk about it, because I don't want to say the wrong thing. And this is too fucking serious of an issue to misspeak, or to spread misinformation, or to speak over or for someone." ... "So I want to take a moment on my biggest platform- which is this podcast, to say that I stand with the people of Palestine, I stand for the liberation of Palestinian people." ... "Every day, to log on to social media, and be just inundated with graphic, unimaginable violence, and loss, and grief, it's just--There are no words." ... "And I feel helpless. That's part of it too, when you feel helpless, the last thing you want to do is talk to people about it-- but visibility is a resource in and of itself. And I can offer that." ... "The outpouring of rage and passion online, and anger at what's happening, I would argue needs to be dedicated and focused on our elected officials. We live in a democracy- albeit an inherently flawed one- we live in a democracy where we have elected officials who were elected and put in power to represent us, and if we feel misrepresented, if we feel underrepresented in foreign affairs? These officials have public phone numbers and emails. There are scripts available online to express your disdain and your rage, and unfortunately that's one of the only ways we'll see actionable change."   "If you expected more from me, it's a terrible feeling- but I don't want to center myself, this needs to be all eyes on Palestine right now, where the real activism is happening. I would encourage you to follow journalists that are on the ground, people who are in Gaza, we need to be listening to them. I would also hope that we're at a point in this conversation where I can express my desire to stand in solidarity with the people of Palestine and that NOT meaning or suggesting or condoning anti-Semitism of any kind. There's a rise of anti-Semitism and islamophobia in the United States and it's just-- it's disgusting, and it's scary, so I want that to be said too. I just wanted to share that I am experiencing part of this collective sense of helplessness and hopelessness-- but it DOESN'T HAVE to be hopeless. I'm going to include a phone number in the description of this episode where, if you don't know the name of your senators or your Congressman, it's never too late to learn, and you can reach out to them." _______ Hm. What a bitch!! Yeah, just so ignorant and uncaring. Obviously she's not keeping up with anything. Should've retweeted more shit ig!
310 notes · View notes