#mark explains all or DOES he?
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Waittt, what did you mean with your last post?? I don't want to spoil myself so I'm waiting for the nightmare before christmas event to arrive on the eng server before diving deep into the wiki. But I HAVE to know; were there hints of Lilia joining in for a rerun or a sequel ??? Your big "OR IS IT???" filled me with way too much hope !! please tell me it wasn't a bit : (
there was a little teaser at the end that implied there'll be a sequel event, though we don't really know anything beyond that! I do think it's likely we'll get the other half of the cast in it, even if it's just wishful thinking on my part. 🤞🤞 NIGHTMARE SUITS FOR EVERYONE!!!!
as far as I know there's been no confirmation on whether it's going to be next year's Halloween event or a separate thing (the snow makes me think it'll be more Christmas-themed, or otherwise more related to the plot of the original movie) so. we're probably going to have to wait quite a while before we find out anything solid. :') they really do love just dropping these things on us and then watching us go absolutely wild with speculation while they watch like
#joseimuke games are serious business#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#lost in the book with nightmare before christmas#hajimari no halloween#me the second i saw the question mark at the end: ahhhh so that's why lilia couldn't be in it#(nods sagely) they were saving him for the second one. yes. of course.#to get more into event spoilers though (so stop reading here if you're avoiding them for now!)#this does explain some things i was wondering about!#like the stitch event didn't follow the movie at all so i wasn't really surprised that this didn't either#but i WAS surprised that oogie wasn't so much as mentioned#if he's also being saved for the second part then that makes a lot more sense#though i am sorry that jamil won't get to meet the man made of bugs 😔#however i am very excited for lilia and floyd to wreak chaos across not one but two holidays!#half the characters: now hold on can we talk about this before --#lilia and floyd: (already shoving santa into a bag) KIDNAP THE SANDY CLAWS#i guess the real question is...if this is for next halloween are we gonna get an oogie boy to go along with it#how many handsome animes can they squeeze out of this franchise? more than you'd expect#wait so does this mean the rhythmic being essentially the opening to the movie was like...foreshadowing or something#or am i overthinking it as per usual#(eng i am praying for you that this rhythmic won't get eaten by the music licensing monsters and replaced with some generic instrumental)#(it is SO cute i love it SO much)
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once Azul gets comfortable with Jamil seeing his mer-form Jamil becomes a victim to Azul’s kidnappings
He was walking around the edge of octavinelle pools with Floyd and ace after practice one day and he full on just got snatched from the edge. He’s there one second and in the pool the second. And you can’t even see him, Azul has pulled him way deeper ( to some cave with an air pocket he found) so when Ace try’s to peer over the edge he sees nothing. Floyd continues to act as if nothing happened
#Jamiazu#azujami#ashenviper#twst#twisted wonderland#ace is TERRIFIED of going anywhere near those pools for weeks afterwards#But seriously once Azul is comfy with Jamil he’s a menace#He LOVES to cling to Jamil with all ten limbs#He leaves suction cup marks and Jamil does NOT explain the marks to kalim#He will not tell him#He’d rather die#But the marks concern Kalim
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Boy King AU | Vettonso + Martian | 1.3k
There's something about putting the future emperor of the Holy Realm on his knees like this. About how easily he goes, how willingly, how obediently. What would his adoring public think if they could see him now. If they saw their beloved king pressed down like this, in the cramped space between Fernando's legs. When they realized their little boy king took it like he was a little concubine instead.
Fernando's bitterness is lifted away in moments like these, like taking off a heavy cloak on a winter's day. It was hard to feel humiliated about his own situation when watching Sebastian debase himself like this.
He always gives himself up so easily. When Fernando threaded his fingers through his thick curls. When he pulled them, and then when he pressed his face down further down into the vee of his legs. Sebastian rubbed his cheek into the coarse fabric of Fernando's breeches and blinked up at him. Fernando had to smother an embarrassing sound; he was just like a little cat!
Sebastian quirked his lips up into an odd little smile and slightly rose up on his knees, "What's funny?" Fernando swallowed lightly and schooled his face back into being impassive, "Nothing. As you were." Sebastian simply smirked at him and let himself be pushed back down by the fist clenched in his hair.
Fernando scoffed internally, there was only so much pleasure in putting the other man in his place when he instead acted like this, this degrading action, was his birthright. He took to ruling and indulging in carnal pleasures as if they were of equal gravity. To be privileged to hold such high station and also let himself be taken apart like this…Fernando felt embarrassed for him.
He is dragged away from his musings when Sebastian moved to settle his hands in Fernando's lap, clutching his hips over the fabric and slightly squeezing; Fernando fought against the urge to shiver. Sebastian pushed up the skirt of Fernando's waistcoat and smoothed his hands over the opening flap of his breeches.
His eyes darted up at Fernando again, a daft smile on his face. Fernando scowled at him, "What?" Seb's grin sharpened, "You could stand to be a little more gracious. This is your future emperor, and future husband might I add, kneeling for you on this dirty, depraved, derelict- ah–" Fernando tugged on his hair again and hissed, "Well then, why don't you show me how eager you are to perform your marital duties?"
Seb licked his lips, completely unconcerned by Fernando's annoyance, and unbuttoned one side of the closure to Fernando's breeches and moved to open the other–
The door to the carriage flew open, arrival announcement dying on a wheezing breath as the servant took in the image the two kings made. One splayed across the seat, exuding power, the other kneeled, debauched, between the former's legs.
One would be hard pressed to determine which was higher on the totem of power and titles.
There was something gratifying about this to Fernando, about being caught. He had been humiliated enough throughout the entire courtship, what was one more thing? And, certainly, what was one more thing if he could drag Sebastian down into the dirt with him.
"Oh Mark, don't act so abashed! It's nothing you haven't seen before, in fact, we have been in this very position not even a fortnight ago!"
Oh. Yes. That.
It was hard to be completely pleased when he remembered how Sebastian had already spent years prior to their engagement sampling the palace's ample selection of fellow high-born men. And how all those men seemed to be completely and utterly wrapped around his little finger.
Fernando released his hand from Sebastian's hair as if it had burned him. He did not understand why he felt ashamed with Mark looking in on them like this. Fernando was the one marrying Sebastian, not Mark; Mark was just a lowly courtier who had the esteemed duty of spending practically every waking hour with the brat…something he himself was decidedly not looking forward to.
Sebastian stayed kneeling, staring impassively up at Mark, still fiddling with the clasp on Fernando's breeches. Fernando gritted his teeth and looked up from where he was watching Sebastian's clever little hands; Mark stared back at him placidly.
Mark's indifference made the entire situation worse. Fernando now felt as if he was not doing anything unique, not doing anything particularly new. How many other men had Mark caught Seb with in this exact position? Fernando felt like he was just another plaything of the boy king, soon to be boy emperor, except his position was forever, permanent. He was the "Kept King", the king who only kept his throne due to the whims of a boy who doesn't even understand what power is.
Mark coughed, "Well," he says, "Your Majesty, I do believe you have a meeting to attend." Seb pouted at him and whined, "We were just getting to the main course," but still braced himself on Fernando's thighs and got up off the carriage floor.
Seb pranced down the steps Mark had placed next to the carriage, miming tripping sown the stairs, snickering when his action made Mark reflexively reach out to grab him, and then playfully skipped off the final step.
Fernando couldn't help but stare as Mark made the weirdest grimace in response, and he inexplicably felt all his mortification seep away from him. Huh. Maybe Mark is-
Seb then turned around and frowned at him, seemingly disappointed, but his eyes are deceivingly sharp, "Fernando, I regret to inform you that I have other duties I must attend to, you will simply have to wait." He then grinned up at Mark next to him and giggled as the other man stiffened when Sebastian looped both of his arms through Mark's.
He leaned all his weight on the other man, Mark not so much as shifting his weight, "Oh Mark, won't you carry me back to the palace? I'm so very tired after all the horse riding," Seb looked up at him imploringly.
Fernando observed as Mark rolled his eyes and shrugged off the man, though notably not pulling his arm from Seb's grasp, and he got the distinct feeling that this exact scene had been played out countless times before.
Fernando clenched his jaw as he watched Seb turn and saunter off, Mark trotting alongside him like a loyal dog. Fernando was supposed to be the unaffected one in this partnership, the unflustered one, the unconcerned one. And yet here he stood, in broad daylight, in a foreign kingdom, on the steps of a carriage with his breeches half unbuttoned and his cravat in disarray.
He heard a cough from beside him, jolted and looked to the side. Sebastian's loyal Horse Master stood there, lounging against the side of the carriage. Fernando had forgotten who had even been driving the carriage in the first place. After Seb has let himself be pushed down, his hair still windswept from their ride together, everything else seemed to fade away. His thoughts were reduced only to how he could mess up the younger man's hair further.
Jenson grinned at him wolfishly, and casually crossed his legs, "First time?" he inquired. Fernando glared at him. The other man laughed openly at him, "What? He's a busy man with big prospects. You're not his majesty's only conquest, you know. Now your throne on the other hand…"
Fernando seethed, it was one thing to be humiliated by the future emperor, but to be patronized by the king's horse boy? No. It would simply not do. He closed his eyes in annoyance, pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaled, and prepared a speech about how he was not about to be talked down to by a man who didn't even have a throne to speak of!
But when he opened his eyes again and opened his mouth to begin his tirade, Jenson was already wandering away to tend to the horses. Dios mío, Fernando was not mentally prepared to spend the rest of his life with all of these impertinent morons.
#i love how i kept saying to people: no no i shant write any fic for this. only art.#me like two weeks later: hey guys :)#this is just: i was sitting in class and had a drawing idea but then im obv not drawing *this* in class so my brain went into narrative mod#not exactly 'baby's first ficlet!!!' but moreso ive not written in a while so i hope its alright???#but aaahhh this was actually pretty fun!! idk i think it was bcs i was also being brainrotted by the image of seb kneeling....#maybe ill draw it. but it felt like something that needed the context of narrative and not just oo here is a drawing!#anyways you can always ask me for a directors cut-(PLEASE PLEAE BEGGING PLEASE)#see this is why im not cut out for writing fic#its not like i dont think it can speak for itself. more that im just an overly reflective person who wants to explain all my thoughts#if i wrote fic itd really be just: chapter 1. chapter 1.5 chapter 2. chapter 2.5#anyways i think its pretty obvious but this is before their wedding and just like peak bitterness.#well not peak. peak would be the first year- first few months of their marriage#but this is fernando who is only just realizing how naive all his expectations of seb were and getting a glimpse of his future#but mostly: mindgames and power play and: whos actually really winning?#also my god jense is literally the best chara in this au. he is vibing and basically just witnessing ye olde reality tv#mark and fernando are always in a weird powerplay with seb(even if seb isnt even consiously doing so) and jense is just free from it all#hmm now how does one go about tagging fic#vettonso#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1#formula 1#martian#sebmark#also idk why im always so concerned abt tagging when im basically just writing this for my little boy king following i have somehow formed#hahaha! it is art to me!:#catie.art.#boy king au
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Substance, Shadow, and Spirit [remixed, abridged] by Tao Yuanming
#liv in the replies#patrice bergeron#boston bruins#brad marchand#do you ever think about how brad marchand said that when bergy retired he would retire or are you capable of normal thought i'm not at all#please say a gratitude for both my sanity& y'all that this poem (which has been saved in my camera roll with the vague idea of using it for#??? long) & not one of the poems i had saved for carey for a really long time & remixed & everything with another poem until i found a poem#that absolutely murdered me in cold blood but there is an alternate universe where i did& then had to explain my unhinged thoughts to you.#anyway how are we feeling about bergy retirement. pspspspsp sara & luna are y'all doing okay like. the doc title for this one was#patrice the hockey player means a lot to me but patrice the person means so much more#which is why the end line of the other poem was so *%"@^)! (you love / what you are) because patrice does. like he is a whole ass good huma#& now since no one asked i need to tell you all the details about everything also y'all please clap i made an edit with NO baby pictures#although i did find one & save it & minimal genres of photo i always use in edits because they're my taste & aesthetic but anyway.#when i saved the first photo and marked it as one i wanted i accidentally wrote “how will he know they love him” which is not the line but#makes me feel feral about patrice & the rest of them all had hurtful names too but also. the third picture is literally a CELLY like brad#just scored a goal & he is clinging to bergy for dear life with that shit i saved that as “oh the agony on his face for unendurable”#& yes it is one of my cliches to have a draft day picture but in my defense the lifelong bond that patrice has/d with boston deserved to be#there even if i put in the love story & YES that picture is from the 2011 playoff right below it shared joy & pain & i couldn't tell you#when the brad marchy photo for together forever is except for the fact that i saw it & just the gut punch of oh my god the way he looks at#things men will praise you for is the stanley cup. duh. but i love the contrast of “some deed” being the stanley cup but then#bergy's choice to do noble deeds (ends up still earning praise &that's my note to his efforts outside of hockey we love a supportive captai#should also mention the first two i came up with & had the photos i knew i wanted for were the first and last one alskaldk but i KNEW i#wanted chara somewhere in the paragraph about leaving & then while i was looking found the one of bergy playing tuukka on accident & yes#i do have to make goalie jokes every time. no reprieve . no dice/no deal/no goal goalies have no rest/reprieve etc etc the one that killed#me though was looking for a patrice award pic & i wanted basically the one that i got for “how will you know any will praise you” & instead#also got the picture of patrice winning the some community hero award for charity work that he does & i love him mama & of COURSE that puck#is from bergy's 1000 game who do you think I am (if you guessed sleepy and emotional about patrice you'd be right) and ALSO please be ready#for all the patrice posts/bruins posts that have been sitting in my drafts to be released on this occasion of patrice retirement#I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT TUUKKA ALSO RETIRED THAT’S WHY HE WAS ON WISE OR SIMPLE NO REPRIEVE AND THAT LATE OR SOON WAS ALWAYS GOING TO BE#CHARA BECAUSE CHARA LEFT FIRST TO GO TO THE CAPS AND THEN LEFT IN RETIRMENT HE LEFT SOON BUT NOT FOR REAL THEN LATER LEFT FOR REAL (RETIRED)
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I fucking hate miya I fucking hate miya I fucking hate miya I FUCKING HATE HER SO MUCH I HATE HER SO FUCKINH MUCH someone is gonna have to sedate me before I EXPLODE
#hey look it’s one of those rare times I post about roots and not PDBC#I fucking hate miya have I mentioned that already#she makes me SO MAD so FUCKING MAD she’s the worst character#finally caved in and read the previously-lost-media-pages that explain what her deal is due to my brother’s constant begging for me to do so#(I was going to do it on my Own time but I’m sick of being pestered about it)#and I hate her even MORE holy shit#genuinely trying to tone down my language so this post doesn’t get marked as mature or something#she is SUCH A BITCH SHE I CANT STAND HERUHLSIHIUSNUSLINSUILUNLSNDLUNDNUIDL#don’t go read roots to see why I hate her. don’t do it genuinely don’t do it you’ll get pissed off#MIYAAAAAA 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕AAUUGHHHHH#I know this post won’t make sense to anyone I just need to get it all out because screaming makes my throat hurt#and full disclosure I Did scream about it. I got very heated over it (this is normal behavior) (no it’s not’#my brother has the NERVE to say she’s like leif. they are nothing LIKE each other#miya will be the end of me I hate her So Much#have I mentioned that she was needlessly rude to Kurt like wha the fuck#Kurt did nothing wrong and she just was so mean to him for no reason. appalling behavior#this bitch miya has the nerve to act all morally superior to everyone else when she’s just as bad#something something glass houses something something the entire conflict is Miya’s fault#roots my beloved but also I have never felt this much genuine hatred for a fictional character before#she legitimately caused the main conflicts‼️ she’s horrible!! and not even in a funny way!!#I’m not gonna pretend finch isn’t a total jackass just because I think he’s funny alright? he is#but he’s ENTERTAINING he at least DOES HIS JOB AS A JACKASS well#I Love villains but not when they’re ACTING LIKE THEYRE NOT ONE. COUGH COUGH MIYYYAAA 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕#miya is such a horrid. horrid thing#I’m needlessly heated over this but this hatred has been brewing for a year now#exactly a year now in fact. happy one year anniversary of the start of my unhealthy hatred of this fictional character#I need to calm down I need to calm the FUCK down#she is SO STUPID like ACTUALLY she could’ve fixed the cause of the main conflict before it even happened#but she Didn’t she DIDNT I need to CALM DOWN#if miya has zero haters then I am dead
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my feeling towards dad (spn) is pretty similar to my feelings towards daddy (hlht). audiences seem to hate these abusive fathers viciously for their poor behaviour, but i can't summon that same feeling inside myself - that harsh hatred and critique. along with the children, i feel like the love for dad/daddy is so strong and big you can put anything in there; it can bear any pain, resentment, betrayal, etc. and make all that into a torrid experience of love. he commits wrongs which upset me but they don't repel me, it doesn't turn the children away either. it is just what it is. children always love their parents too much.
#me is mark#i suppose the fathers do deserve the vitriol but somehow it puts me off#the scene in hlht ep 1 where daddy does explicitly say he loves his son and explains why he can't be fully & openly affectionate#the scene in spn ep 9 home where john says he does love his boys and wants to be with them more than anything#there's just something else holding him back atm#maybe they have failed as fathers but they do love and they do sacrifice and they do suffer for their kids in other ways#and the kids themselves clearly have a difficult time feeling pure and simple hate towards their fathers#though the reason i can't muster up any intense animosity and accusation @ these figures is also because.#there is something wrong with me.#the hatred doesn't leap out of me and it is not the top emotion above all else#first and foremost there is love and sympathy
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୨୧ — The soft splashing of water and gentle scrapes of your nails against his scalp made Sukuna’s eyes grow heavy, lashes falling shut as you worked behind him. Your presence was… soothing, he admitted privately in his head- a word he’d never associated with anything before you.
"You’re quiet tonight," you murmur, your breath warm against his ear. The gentle curve of your stomach presses against his back, and he could feel his unborn child’s curse energy- what little he could feel promised that the brat was going to be strong.
He didn’t answer immediately, too lost in the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. The king of curses, feared across lands, reduced to this- nearly purring under a pregnant woman’s gentle ministrations. The thought should have enraged him. Instead, he found himself leaning further back, his massive frame carefully controlled to avoid crushing you and that belly of yours.
Truth is, Sukuna couldn’t find the words to explain how your simple touch was undoing centuries of telling himself he couldn’t feel anything. How the sound of your humming as you focused on him made something in his chest constrict painfully… and how your swollen belly against his back filled him with a terrifying kind of joy and pride.
"Does it feel good at least?" You asked softly, working through a particularly stubborn tangle. The mouth on his stomach merely sighed in contentment.
"Mm," was all he could manage as he felt your smile against his shoulder, your lips brushing his skin in a whisper of a kiss.
Water droplets caught in his lashes as he opened his eyes partially, watching your shadow play across the room. Your fingers traced one of the black markings that adorned his body, and he tch’d at the fact he had to suppress a shudder.
"Suku-… Ryomen, tell me what troubles you, I can practically hear you thinking," your voice was barely above a whisper this time, your hands stilling on him, and for a moment, only the sound of dripping water filled the silence.
His multiple hands clenched into fists, "You're making me weak," he accused, "ruining me," he muttered.
Your hands moved to his shoulder, working a knot he hadn’t even realized was there, "m’not," you smiled, "I'm loving you. There's a difference."
Love... that dreaded word, and of course his child chose that moment to kick against your belly, as if agreeing with you. The little shit wasn’t even born yet and it was already picking sides.
"I should have killed you, spread your legs open and fucked your corpse," Sukuna sneered.
Sukuna could feel it, how that innocent smile of yours seared against his spine, followed by the melodious sound of laughter escaping your lips. Before you could think, the world shifted and you found yourself beneath his towering form, the waters surface fracturing into a thousand ripples around your bodies. His massive hand tapped your wrists above your head, another gripped your hip while the remaining two pressed where you womb was- where his child flourished, his hands trembling ever so slightly with the effort of gentle restraint.
He stared down at you, the water dripping from his hair leaving tracks along your face and neck, almost like blood from a fresh kill, but your eyes held no fear - only understanding. The mouth on his stomach hung open breathing heavily, "What have you done to me? I want to tear your heart out and rip your head off, but I also can't bear the thought of losing you, or that brat."
Slipping your arms around his neck, you smiled up at him, "Nothing you haven’t allowed."
"Watch your tongue, little lamb." The threat was hollow, and you both knew it. The kiss that followed was ever so desperate, sloppy and violent in its tenderness, but damn did it taste like the sweetest sin… Your response back- how you kissed him in return, your spit mingling with his, a soft moan on your tongue… It was better than any scream of terror he’d ever drawn from human lips. And he knew from that alone, you’d been right.
You hadn't done a thing he didn’t allow.
And for once, he didn't fight it.
Prt2.
#Soft Sukuna but still Sukuna ♡#Jujutsu Kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#heian sukuna#Sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#jjk sukuna#jjk ryomen#jjk fluff#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu sukuna#ryomen#soft sukuna#x reader
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Some may be apprehensive that Severance won’t portray Mark’s interaction with Helena in the tent as the sexual assault it was. But not only will they — they already are.
Mark’s behavior toward Helly has completely changed. He doesn’t sit next to her at Irving’s funeral. He shuts down attempts at conversation with offhand, vague snarky comments and a defiantly blank facial expression. When Helly knocks on the door to the bathroom, his eyes dart around like an animal cornered. Where he once would have slowed down for her in the hallway so they could talk, he walks much faster ahead. He’s trying as hard as possible to avoid her. To ignore her. To run away.
Now contrast this with his treatment of “Helly” when she first walked out of the elevator in season two. He waited for her to arrive! He was so relieved she’d come back! And when they were walking down that hallway and he was explaining the situation with Ms. Casey, he stopped mid-stride, turned to her with a smile on his face, and said “Look, Helly—“
He never got to finish that sentence. But some say he was going to confess that though his outie had a wife, his affections lay with her. And I think they’re right.
So why is he acting so differently now? The answer is obvious: “Because they are smarter than us, okay? They know everything.”
After the assault, Mark likely feels like a complete idiot. He spent so much of season one deconstructing his beliefs and breaking free from Lumon’s propaganda. And the minute he believes he’s immune to their lies and no longer a corporate slave, he is taken advantage of and hoodwinked by the very figurehead of said company, masking as someone he loves.
A symbol of Lumon convinced him he was safe. Tricked him. Invaded him in the most intimate way possible, with him completely oblivious, “like an idiot.” Right when he thought everything might be okay.
So maybe Lumon’s right. Maybe there’s no point in fighting. Because if he was stupid enough to not realize his own friend was being possessed by her billionaire doppelgänger, then maybe Lumon is correct about innies being nothing more than pawns. Maybe they are people, and he really is… not. (That’s how Helena treated him, anyway.)
And if that’s the case, of course he wants to give up looking for Ms. Casey and lose himself in work! For a moment he thought he was a human being, deserving of autonomy over his own body and capable of something more than sitting behind a desk — but his assault sends that all crashing down. He is an extension of his outie, made for work and nothing more. Going beyond that gets dangerous. That’s what got Irving killed… and him in Helena’s tent. And Helly? He cannot trust Helly. As far as he knows, his only confirmed moment with Helly since the OTC was when he was holding her in his arms, his jacket wrapped around her shoulders. Why should it be Helly coming back to the severed floor? If Helena could trick him before, who says she can’t learn from her past mistakes and trick him again over and over? Mark refuses to be humiliated and hurt after last time, so he avoids her (and Dylan!) and puts up a barrier of cool, snarky indifference — just like how he deals with grief.
But we know that indifference is a mask. When Milchick walked out of the elevator after revealing he knew about him and Helena Eagan, Mark had no one to pretend for — and he went completely stiff, blankly wide-eyed in an expression extremely reminiscent of his usual innie self. Whatever the reasons for this, one thing’s for sure: Mark does deeply care about what happened in the tent. And at least for now, he will lose himself in Cold Harbor to cope with it.
Lumon certainly got their productive worker back. But good Lord… at what cost?
#severance#severance apple tv#severance season 2#severance show#severance s2#severance spoilers#mark severance#mark s#mark scout#helly r#helena eagan#helly riggs#severance meta#helly severance
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This one goes out to all the bitches who love some good Safehouse Era Horror. It's me, I'm bitches. I want Jon and Martin to be fucked up and eldritch but I want them to be fucked up and eldritch and loved
(Notes under the cut because I can't help myself. Heads up, I do go into some detail of how Jon gets injured so I can explain my thought process for how I designed his scars. All canon-typical and fairly clinical in tone.)
Here's how I picture Safehouse Jon!
He doesn't need glasses anymore by this point, so he should just be wearing empty frames, but I drew this before I settled on my glasses headcanons. This drawing looks better with the reflection anyways.
He hasn't gotten a haircut since before his promotion to Head Archivist. He doesn't love the weight of it on his neck, but he also uses it to fidget, and he really doesn't want to go through the whole process of cutting it. He's disliked haircuts since he was a kid (People: Bad. Small talk: Bad. Touching: Bad. Loud sounds: Bad. People talking all at once: Bad) and since his time with the Circus he's only grown more reluctant to go and get it done.
At this length his hair is naturally pretty curly but he is. Not taking care of it. I actually put a lot of effort into trying to make it look brittle and tangled (I have a lot of experience lol, my hair is quite thick and I've always hated taking care of it. Yes I am also projecting my feelings about going to a hairdressers onto him why do you ask.)
The various scars were a bit of a strange task, but anyone who has seen my takes on The Bad Kids knows I'm not averse to selective realism in my fiction. Easiest one was the neck, I always pictured Daisy making a vertical cut based on "through the voice box". The larynx is longer than it is wide, so I think Daisy would go for the method that dealt damage across the largest total surface area. Yes I am aware that I'm speaking the same way Martin does when he explains his corkscrew.
The worm scars were easy because I barely drew any. There are a few marks on his cheek, but they're just surface bites. I picture most of his encounter with Prentiss showing on his legs, particularly on the right side, with enough damage there that he starts using a cane after the incident to keep weight off his right leg. More research to be done on this particular detail.
Finally the burn on his hand from Jude. This was the weirdest one to figure out just because of the nature of the injury. How do you quantify the damage done to an epidermis by a living manifestation of sometimes-boiling wax that can heat and cool at will? I settled on it being a second-degree burn that healed supernaturally fast, containing the damage to the space Jude had direct contact with. He'd probably have some mobility issues there as well. I know there are ways to help with mobility and pain after a severe burn, but I don't know how much of it Jon would actually. Do. Like I said, definitely further research to be done on these last two.
Hey so I'm gonna ask you to stop and consider the horror of the watcher. The helplessness. The guilt. The inherent terror of being a spectator, a participant by proximity but not by action. The horror of not being able to look away, of being a bystander. Jon forgets to blink sometimes. But wouldn't it be so much worse if there were no eyelids at all? That's how I interpret the description of The Archivist being "All Eyes" :D
I love a good Many-Eyed Jon, so I whipped up my own interpretation here. I think the more he Becomes the more he starts to resemble the thing from the dreams. He has a lot more control of it in S5, but it still creeps up on him and he has to consciously go back to a human shape.
#coffeepaintart#jonathan sims#jon sims#tma#the magnus archives#scopophobia#scopophobia tw#tw scopophobia#the archivist#tma fanart#tma art#if i need to tag any other tws or cws lmk
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Gil-galad Variations II, Notes Edition
Tag snippets from: @eowyn7023, @glorfinyeet, @lkaluna, @finmoryo, @wilwarin-wilwa
Gil-galad Variations, featuring all the gil galad theories i've encountered.
#silm#silmarillion#gil galad#these are all very fun ideas#the maeglin one was really interesting#as you can tell he has matured a bit and switched out his hairstyle & color palette a little#(the white shirt is to honor aredhel)#he goes by the gil galad nameset + lomion so nobody knows hes maeglin#also nobody recognizes his face because this is the first time in like 200 years his hair hasnt been covering everything but his mouth#my hc for the line of luthien is that they all inherited melians maiarin face marking things#so i applied that to the half-sauron-galad (i need a better name for him lol)#poor him between sauron and feanor he has the worst possible family on both sides#... does he also disown everyone and go live with cousin celebrimbor...?#does he recognize annatar? does annatar recognize him??#also i love the thought of elrond and friends taking turns being gil galad#do other people know? how do they explain glorfindels hair lol#like the other three are all various shades of dark hair so they could probably pass as each other/one person with the help of some makeup#but then 1/4 of the time gil galad becomes Violently Yellow#i wonder if the finrod + amarie (gil galad inglorion?) one knows gildor#are they brothers? the same person??#also lalwen + cirdan is like. the only one out of all of these to be raised to adulthood by at least one bio parent#assuming all of them have the same 'went to the havens' backstory of course
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Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.
Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.
Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.
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“You’ve never what?”
“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.
---
Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you.
He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.
It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.
Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.
The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.
Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any.
“Um, welcome to-”
“Your hair’s funny.”
Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?
Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”
And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears.
After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day.
But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.
Oh.
Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder.
Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.
He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-
“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”
Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.
“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”
“Bye, crybaby.”
And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-
“Big bro, why are you so red?”
Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting.
Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.
“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”
“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter.
Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?”
No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question.
Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-
“Man, are you even listening?”
Shit.
Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.
Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”
God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane.
Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.
“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”
Perfect. Great. Wonderful.
The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?
“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”
Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”
“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is.
Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”
You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust.
Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-
Click!
“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”
You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”
His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”
“Dad, I’m running away.”
That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact.
It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad.
Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-
“You alright, Cho?”
Ah.
Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.”
“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart.
“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”
“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.
“Cho.”
“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful.
And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.
“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”
“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”
“I don’t know either of you two.”
It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod.
He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”
Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”
“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years.
“I don’t know what you-”
“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”
And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”
Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”
Raising a brow, “What?”
“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”
“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years.
“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”
Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way.
“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’.
Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”
“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”
“Wanna bet, brat?”
“...”
Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet.
Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him.
Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night.
“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.
Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.
“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”
Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him.
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.
You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”
He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.
“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-
“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit.
“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you.
You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”
“You know…”
“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy.
“Choso.”
Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted.
Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”
And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”
And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-
“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”
And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole.
“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-
“Use me.”
Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”
“Use me.”
There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch.
And, well, how could you say no to that?
Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth.
And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now.
So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.
You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”
And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard.
Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high.
“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”
The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”
“No.”
You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”
Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway.
“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”
“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss.
Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor.
And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this? He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls.
You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”
“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”
Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him.
“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”
You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him.
He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass.
“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”
“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good.
“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”
A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”
You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”
“Mhm?”
“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”
Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now.
“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.
“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours.
“Cum f’me, my girl.”
My girl.
And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.
Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base.
“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below.
“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips.
In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now.
“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”
And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years.
Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with.
It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken.
“Crybaby.”
“Cho.”
“Corny.”
“You started it.”
Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go.
“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”
“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”
---
Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More
Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX
-Jin.
Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still
Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX
-Jin.
Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else?
Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk
Kugisaki: *spare
And you just LET him?
Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER
…
AND DID IT ANYWAY
Kugisaki: L
Fushiguro: L
Gramps: L
Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????
*Fushiguro has left the chat*
Dad: :0
-Jin.
A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.
#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#choso#tonywrites#choso kamo
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arcane season 2 spoilers
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"Can you feel anything?"
Viktor's foreign body shudders against his will; your fingertips trace down his chest, tingling, sparking, akin to little specks of light burning into his second-skin. The sound of your muddled voice barely registers. His head tosses back with a slight thud, hair fanned out as a halo. He allows your knees to bracket his waist, and keeps his arms sprawled above him — despite the aching in his dead heart to just touch you. The pulsing of the arcane beneath his system is hardly under control yet.
It would be a risk he's willing to take, a necessary step to learn, if it were anyone else besides you.
And Viktor does feel — so much, in fact, but it isn't anything explainable. The festering in his core, threatening to come up through his throat. The whirring, the throbbing of every muscle, rich with glowing rivers of purple. Shining with a mixture of magic and energy and his own blood.
He's only distantly aware of your hand when it reaches his stomach, examining the juncture between cool metal and unholy flesh. Gears and bolts mimic the outline of ribs. Your touches are curious, distinctly gentle. Picking up on old habits, and trying not to break him, still. Then, your palm reaches up; it boldly cradles his cheek, brushes his pallid skin. And this, he can sense.
It's familiar, human. Excruciatingly soft when your thumb brushes the space on his cheek, just above his beauty mark. It puts an easy feeling back in his chest, something he almost began to believe he'd forgotten. As warm as a shimmering sun, as molten as liquid gold.
Nothing else matters but this moment, but you, and him. There is no outcome, across each expansive universe and every edge of the arcane, where the two of you would not meet again like this. You were meant to. Born and reborn to.
Your gaze finds his, soft eyes glancing down at him, your expression crossed between pain and relief. You eclipse all of his vision: light fuzzy at your edges, your face a hazy memory that he'd still see with his eyes closed. You're a reminder of what it means to be alive.
Viktor doesn't envy you. You've told him of nightmares, before. Dreams you had before this, of your mind putting yourself through the tragedy of watching him die ages before you truly had to. It must be difficult to see him like this, despite your best attempts to hide any uncertainty.
Your hand shakes. He can feel it trembling, unsteady on his cheek. And every molecule in Viktor's system explodes, laced with the yearning to remember — to let hazy lovesickness swell within his palms and his new figments. To pull you closer, in an effort to convince himself you won't be taken away.
Every echo of you is innate. Your voice, your name, your fingerprints. Your presence has the Hexcore — or what's become of him, what has embodied the Hexcore — blissfully, endlessly silent. The way you look at him, soft and brutally innocent, puts a chasmic, vivid hole in his center. Gods, you still look at him the same, just as you did when the two of you were young and innocent. The rot in him tells him he isn't worthy of it.
Viktor's eyes swirl like kaleidoscopes. Drops of crimson swirling in pure water. Your brows pinch, a sight he finds frustrating and pretty, as you silently examine him. Emotions curl in your lungs, tearing and hungry and knife-like; stricken with attachment, or perhaps blaming yourself, Viktor figures.
Exhaustion runs heavy in your expression, reminding him of looking into a mirror. He knows this look. You haven't slept. Haven't given yourself any form of a break, it seems.
So, he takes a chance.
Your hand brushes some stray, messy strands of hair from his forehead, just as Viktor guides his weak arm to reach for you. You don't tense, don't move. He can hear your breathing, thinks he can still feel his. There isn't an ounce of fear in the way you look at him. You have always looked at him like he holds the world in his hands. And now, perhaps he does.
His hand finds your cheek, same as yours. Copying, following. Thin, delicate, purple-hued fingers trace the edge of your face clumsily, still learning how to touch. Still afraid the line between hurt and healing might be blurred, and you are the one person left that he can't let get caught in the crossfire. You lean into his palm, trusting, and let go of a breath that makes your shoulders shake with the weight of it.
Viktor thinks of crying, despite the press and pull in his chest that convinces him he shouldn't be able to. He can feel you. It isn't like the few touches he's experienced so far, or the aching, anomalous strength he's been forced to get used to. It contradicts the very constructs of everything he thought made sense.
Your skin is so soft, sickly familiar. Viktor holds your face shakily, afraid to move. He can feel your individual atoms. Innumerable sparks just beneath his touch, galaxies upon universes of stars in your name, that beg to be grasped, possessed, cured. He cradles you with all of the devotion of a prophet, with all of the tenderness of a past friend: an almost-destiny, a saved seat at the edge of something more.
Would clumsily pulling you in, and pressing his lips to yours feel wrong, or tangible — like nothing, or like everything?
"Vik?"
Your tone, sweeter than honeysuckle, sweeter than anything he might deserve, brings his vision back into focus. He blinks. Gaze never tearing away from his, your fingertips drop to thread the hard edge of his collarbone. A silent plea, can you feel this? You find each curve of his bones and his body easily, the details already memorized. Viktor senses the ghost of you, your touch gentle, something like home.
"I'm not sure," Viktor finally answers; and the scientist, Hexgate creator, still-ambitious part of himself is hardly satisfied with that answer. His voice is quiet, distant. As though he isn't there, despite the lingering, familiar tenderness to his tone.
The fried synapses in his brain can't yet separate a caress from a threat, he just perceives the lingering energy. He believes you could be the one to teach him the difference.
This time, you let your palm press flat to his chest. There's a hum that attempts to mimic a heartbeat, a lack of coolness or heat. The action presses your form closer to his, guides you to lean part of your weight on him to bring your faces far too close. Sharing in the same reflection. Allowing each breath to be measured, along with every hesitation.
What should he start with? Should he embrace you, holding you tight and close like you're sacrificial? Should he grab your hand in his, press his palm to your skin to measure your heartbeat? Lace his smallest finger with yours, to make you a promise like he used to?
He can't promise you peace, nor the life you deserve, but if you came for him now, was it not a swear to follow him anywhere?
There are still so many things left to feel, and every red thread has always begun and ended with you.
Can you feel anything?
Viktor guides a hand over yours, keeps it to his chest selfishly; he meets your gaze, he hums, "Are you eager to find out?"
#assorted thoughts about purple viktor because I have the strong urge to put my hands all over him#can you tell im distracting myself from the horrors#viktor x reader#viktor x you#arcane x reader#viktor arcane x reader#viktor arcane
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Imagine you're a 400+ century old witch and you somehow end up falling in love with the female embodiment of death, who then has to take your son's soul after he dies, which results in you hating her. Now, you're trying to get your power back, and after years, and i mean YEARS, of not seeing her, she comes along the journey to help you and your coven get to the end of a death mission. You know what she is, you know why you don't like her, but you also know that beyond that you can never hate her. She's the only woman you've truly ever loved, and just her touch can drive you crazy. You spend each day thinking of and yearning for her, and then when the teenager you've taken under your wing almost dies, you plead with her not to take him. She does this for you, she doesn't take him, just for you. And in a campfire circle surrounded by your newfound family, she tells them all of a woman she once loved, who she is physically and emotionally pained by everyday, knowing that she hurt this woman more than she can ever explain, and more than anyone can ever imagine. She says this woman is her scar, a mark of failure and devastation she has to carry with her for the rest of her life. This woman is you. You leave to breathe, knowing it was you, knowing that just the simple word "loved" coming out of her mouth when she was talking about you made every bone in your body ache for her. She follows you, puts her hand on your back, and you can't help but to pull her in for a hug, it feels like heaven, like you're soaring above the sky with nothing else in the world but the two of you, and you realize you haven't felt the gentle touch of this woman since what happened. In your moment of longing and desperation, you cup her face, and you pull her in for a kiss, not only inches apart, but centimeters. A single breath holds her apart from you, and all those feelings you have for her rush back to you in an instant. She embraces it, but pulls back at the very moment. She knows you are vulnerable, she knows you're in pain, she knows you're not ready to feel her again. So she says your name, and she looks at you the way she always has. She didn't have to say it for you to know she loves you, and you weren't sure if her reluctance made you love her or long for her more, or both.
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#agatha x rio#rio vidal#marvel mcu#mcu#mcu fandom#wanda maximoff#wlw#kathryn hahn#rio vidal x agatha harkness#rio x agatha#rio x reader#agathario#agatha x wanda#agatha x reader
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cw: nsfw sukuna x fem!gamer!reader. i hc that sukuna would like prsk and dti lmfao. overstimulation. choso and gojo ver linked at the bottom!
college athlete!sukuna who spots for for the first time on the field. you’re sitting in the bleachers, alone like a loser. most people tend to come with their friends to watch them play, but even in the sweltering sun, you’re still what, playing a game on your phone? he scoffs under his breath and turns his head back to his teammates, locking in for the rest of the friendly match.
college athlete!sukuna who starts to see you everywhere, nose deep in your phone, laptop, switch, whatever it is. it pisses him off for some reason and he can’t pay attention to the group of girls trying to get his attention. what is so important about those damn games?
college athlete!sukuna who slides into the seat next to you a couple of weeks later. you don’t say anything, eyes focused down on your device while the light from your screen reflects off your thin-framed glasses. he clears his throat, but no answer from you. his brows furrow.
college athlete!sukuna who finally gets your attention once you clear the level.
“what the hell are you always playing?”
the question alone has stars sparkling in your eyes as you explain the well thought out lore of your current favorite game franchise. he rolls his eyes at first at your enthusiasm, but he ends up actually getting quite invested in the storyline.
college athlete!sukuna who lets you download games on his phone, only agreeing to play them if you teach him. it leads to a couple of days where the two of you just sit together, his thick fingers trying to maneuver the small device that infuriates him so much it makes you laugh. there’s a solution you have for that, so you tell him to come over later in the evening.
college athlete!sukuna who’s not that outdated, he has a ps5 himself. he plays a sports game with his friends once in a while, but it’s not something he’d say he does often. so he’s a little unsure when you slide the controller into his hand and nudge him to play for a bit while you go change.
college athlete!sukuna who can’t focus on the game, he’s practically undressing you with his eyes. you’re wearing such thin clothing, a slightly loose tank top, and some much too short shorts. unlike him, you’re much too concentrated on the game, missing the way he licks his lips at the sight of your thighs.
college athlete!sukuna who places the controller down practically 4 minutes after you join, claiming he has something else he wants to play.
college athlete!sukuna who ends up with his hand down your underwear, toying with your clit. he makes sure to drag his fingers up and down your slit extra slow so you can focus on your game. but you’re shifting around quite a bit, mouth ajar and eyes struggling to stay open when he slides one in. you're clenching around him a couple of times, before finally letting out a shaky moan.
college athlete!sukuna who’s managed to drag you away from your game with his tongue, fail screen displayed on the tv while his head is deep between your legs, holding your thighs apart while he eats you out. those talented fingers of yours are scratching at his scalp and tugging on his hair, pulling him closer as you start to hump his face.
college athlete!sukuna who’s a little more surprised when you ride him with such ease, your pace fast and steady while he grips the fat of your ass. his eyes are moving between your face and tits that are bouncing oh-so-well, and he just can’t help but fuck up into you, matching the rhythm you’ve set.
college athlete!sukuna who smirks at you across from the class when he sees you the next day. you’re not playing anything this time, eyes surveying the students in the lecture hall until they find his. even with your shirt covering you up so well, he knows just where all the hickeys and bite marks he left are placed, giving you a wink when he sees your smile grow.
college athlete!sukuna who comes over more often, only agreeing to actually play if his cock is sheathed in that ‘gamer pussy’ of yours. and he’ll lean you back, making sure your legs are resting on his arms while his controller is under you. you whine, telling him this isn’t a good position to play, but he retorts by telling you it’s a good position to fuck. your silence is enough for him to fling the controller away and drill into you full nelson just like he wanted to.
college athlete!sukunawho won’t tell you that he does play those games on his phone when the two of you are apart. he’s taken a special liking to one:
Hatsune Miku: Colorful Stage!
what? he’s an athlete. it’s brain-stimulating and it’ll help him keep up his rhythm in the field!
speaking of stimulation, college athlete!sukuna just loves to overstimulate you. he takes pride in the fact that he's one of the only things that can draw you away from an intense match, and he'll make sure you as many times as he sees fit.
college athlete!sukuna who will hand you the disc version of a game you’ve been waiting for for months but couldn’t camp out to get, claiming it wasn’t a big deal. it was actually, he stood in line for almost 8 hours and missed a class, but the way your smaller body was brimming with excitement was enough to put it behind him
college athlete!sukuna who won’t refuse your lips wrapped around his cock as a form of thanks, heavy hand pushing you further down his thick cock while your tongue struggles to move around. such a nasty thing you are, but he’s cumming in your mouth all the same when you moan around his cock.
college athlete!sukuna who suggests that you play roblox tonight while he watches. you agree, knowing it’s just a ploy for him to tell you that you're bad at outfit picking and pick up his controller (yes his, he has a designated controller now) to show you how to get first place in Dress to Impress. and he won. such a clean victory deserves a reward, right? so you’ll have to sit on his face, but not now. he’s about to start another round.
college athlete!sukuna who’s face is blank while he watches you sleep. your shirt is ridden up and your controller is barely hanging from your limp fingers. he’ll turn the console off before scooping you into his arms and depositing you in bed. he’s about to shut the door and go home, but your whiny voice calls out to him to stay.
college athlete!sukuna who bites at your shoulder softly to wake you up. he has an early practice today that he has to leave for but he wants to see you there later on. and no devices, he wants you watching him the whole time.
choso ver here!
gojo ver here!
geto ver!
another sukuna linked to this one here!
#jjk smut#jjk sukuna#jjk ryomen#jjk sukuna smut#sukuna x reader smut#ryomen sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu sukuna#choso smut
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Jesus Christ! I forget that the twisted wonderland characters are like Rich Rich, and so I wonder if they ever try to explain that to the main character?
Like imagine Leona is desperately trying to get you to notice him. At first he just tried being flirty, but every time it went over your head. Then when you did physical Ed together, Leona would really get into it and he thought that would impress you to. It did, but you would just complemented him and then go about your day like nothing. He’s even trying to skip his naps to go and hangout with you more! Homie is desperate! I tell you!
One of these times you guys go to his room together and Leona is trying to impress you again, by showing off about such and such and causally mentioning the price of stuff. Every time he does that, you just say “Neat” with this plain expression on your face. This bugs the hell out of him, which is made worse by the lack of his usual afternoon nap, and so he just ask why. You just stare at him “Leona, I come from another dimension. I have no reference for how much thaumarks cost. So to me all these prices are just a bunch of question marks!” And then Leona really wakes up from his sleepiness then and there. Leona sits you down and explains how the whole economy of Thaumarks work.
After a long time, you finally take in the price of everything. Of the economy, the price of night raven college tuition, and all the little things that you have to worry about when you’re thinking about money. Then it kinda dawns on you how much the room all together cost. You look at this mother fucker and ask him how much does he get payed! You meant it more as a rhetorical question, but he blows your freaking mind with the answer he gives you.
You: “You get this yearly???”
Leona: “No, this is my monthly allowance”
You: “Jesus Christ!!!!”
Leona: “Who’s that?”
You: “Never mind that! How the fuck do I get your job homie?!”
Leona: “Herbivore you know, you have to be born into it”
You: “Fuck I know! But like damn! It would be sweet to be a prince right now!”
Leona: “I can’t make you a prince, but I could always make you my princess”
WHAT????
You: “What are with you guys and casually proposing?!”
Leona: “You already got proposed to?”
#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#twst wonderland#leona kingscholar#twst leona#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst#leona kingsholar x reader
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Simon Riley is absolutely smitten by his bimbo girlfriend. Pretty little thing like you, who grew up extremely sheltered and has never seen the horrors he has. He makes it his duty to keep you that way, giving you the best life he can even if he's a damn bastard.
''They're making another Planet Earth.'' He comments casually, brown eyes fully focused on the way your lovely, manicured hands play with his calloused fingers, not a single hint of disgust in your face at touching the hands that have killed hundreds.
''Where are they getting the dirt for it?'' You ask with a raised eyebrow, making sure not to hurt him with your long acrylics. His hands always feel rough to the touch, and to this day you don't even know what he does for work. Maybe he's a cosplayer, that explains his clothes.
''...'' He blinks a few times, dumbfounded at the question. Despite the fact that you're so... dim-witted, it's hard not to admire you when you wear those pretty skin-tight clothes and heavy makeup, glossy lips always pulled into a pretty pout.
''The nature documentary, angel.'' He brings you closer to him, making you sit on his lap as his hands run up and down your back absent-mindedly.
''Oh. Oh! Okay.'' Simon makes no effort to hide the small smile on his lips, feeling you plant kisses all over his face, marking it with your pretty red lipstick. He doesn't care, he wears those kisses on his scarred skin like a damn badge of honor.
Bimbo!Reader Masterlist
#simon ghost riley#cod mwii#ghost mw2#ghost cod#call of duty#simon riley#cod mw2#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#bimbo!reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon x reader#ghost simon riley#ghost call of duty#ghost x f!reader#ghost x female reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#simon ghost x you#simon ghost fluff#ghost fluff#mw2 x you#mw2 x reader#mw2 fanfic#mw2 2022#mw2 ghost#cod#modern warfare 2
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