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Jon Stewart, hitting the nail on the head once again.
#gacked from Jessica Chastain's tweet#jon stewart#on the ridiculous lies regarding#trickle down economics#and billionaires hoarding wealth to play with#abolish billionaires#us politics#but also kind of#uk politics#hell it's#world politics#billionaires and privatisation are a global threat
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I wanted to put this one the previous post but it was long and this is a tangent but- In regards to the hypothetical "If House was my doctor I'd just tell him everything. Rip to all his other patients but I'm different."
The whole point of the show is that you wouldn't. Like a major theme of the show is about how the various shames and stigmas and habitual dishonesties that plague our societies both metaphorically and literally kill us. "Everybody lies" isn't just a cynical catchphrase, it's the shows thesis. Because of how we operate as a society, everyone feels compelled to suppress and hide things and that inevitably leads to suffering.
And there are plenty of episodes where this is obvious, ie "I cheated on my partner and gave them an STD." But there's also much more of "This little girl went through early puberty and because of the way our society stigmatizes women's bodies her single father never discussed puberty with her and she was so afraid and ashamed of her new pubic hair that she tried to shave it without telling anyone and mutilated herself, leading everyone to think she'd been abused and throwing off the whole case until House figured out her hormones were going crazy because she'd been exposed to her father's low T medicine, which he hid because of how our society regards masculinity, which he started taking because he began dating a younger woman (because of shame stemming from our society's unrealistic expectations wrt sex in relationships) which he was hiding from his kids, because of shame regarding our societies toxic views on monogamy."
A particular episode stands out as a really good example. S06E15 "Private Lives," which aired in 2010 but was fairly prescient about where social media was heading. The patient was a blogger who documented literally every moment of every day for her followers. She made it very clear she left *nothing* out, from her and her boyfriend's sex life to, eventually, asking for feedback from her followers on whether to get her heart valve replaced with one from a pig or a "vegan" plastic one. She handed the whole blog over to House as soon as he took the case and the team poured through the whole thing. Surely this is proof you're wrong about everybody lying, the team says to House. She's give us her whole life and you still can't find out what's wrong! Spoiler, it turned out the crucial symptom that allowed House to put it all together? Was the one thing she *didn't* include in the blog- Her bowel movements. Shame and stigma around talking about *poop* nearly killed this woman. It was also a detail that should have been picked up immediately by a normal doctor, who would have asked about her bowel movements as part of the standard checklist of diagnostic questions. But this woman was so confident that she'd laid out every relevant detail of her life in her blog, she wouldn't answer those questions, obfuscating what she was actually ashamed of underneath a pile of curated, rationalized, narritivized junk she could pretend was proof of a lack of shame and not simply a skill at creative writing.
When I say "I'd just tell House everything" is ridiculous, I don't just mean "well, because of the way the show works, you HAVE to be hiding SOMETHING." I mean literally, you- because you are a human being- are ashamed of *something.* And because you are a human being, the more info you try to give House the more deeply you will bury whatever it is you're actually ashamed of. And, because of the way the show works, that *will* end up being the key to what's making you sick.
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 17
[chap sixteen] | [all chapters here] | [epilogue]
Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes
a/n: How is it possible that we've reached the end??? Although this may be the last chapter, this won't be the final outing for our Ice Princess - I'll have the epilogue posted soon, and I'm hoping to explore ther relationship more in the future! This chapter is a little bit serious, but otherwise it's entirely indulgent for all of us that have just been chomping at the bit for these two to get together, so enjoy~
wc: 9.1k
Chapter Seventeen
Sleeping in Eddie’s bed had clearly become something of a habit in your month and a half of fake dating, because it didn’t even surprise you when you awoke the day after Halloween to find your cheek pressed against his back, his messy mane of curls tickling your face. No, the part that did briefly surprise you was the realization that you were lying there virtually naked and holding him like he was your own personal teddy bear; when the Halloween party slowly began to come back to you, though, your surprise began to fade away.
You’d kissed Eddie, not just once or twice or even for a few minutes, but for damn near the rest of night. Once you two left the party and returned to his place in the early hours of the morning, you practically jumped him because you were unable to contain all the want you’d been harboring over the course of these past weeks. Hell, you couldn’t even remember when you two eventually caved to your exhaustion and pulled away from each other, because you were so caught up in the whirlwind of his lips and his touch that all other details of the night seemed to vanish from memory.
With a giddy smile, you lightly brushed your fingers along your lips, feeling your ears grow hot at the memory of Eddie’s kisses and groping hands and tented pants. You even laughed to yourself smally, as if you were in disbelief about the evening that had transpired.
As your eyes lazily trailed up and down Eddie’s back, feeling ease and content in watching him sleep soundly, that pesky anxiety of yours began whispering cruelly in your ear again like it always seemed to - after all, you two hadn’t exactly discussed what was going on between you, so for all you knew the kisses could actually mean very little.
Although the reasonable side of you knew it was almost certainly ridiculous to assume this wouldn’t go further - considering the few things you did talk about last night - the nervous, emotionally confused and untrusting side of you couldn’t help but run wild with assumptions. What if Eddie didn’t like you in the same way you liked him, what if you misunderstood each other last night? Within only a few minutes of being awake, your worries were already getting the better of you, souring your morning far too quickly for your liking.
You were never exactly the most emotionally competent person, you loathed to admit - considering the household you grew up in, feelings were often suppressed until they boiled over. Neither of your parents set a very good example of how to properly express emotions or healthily discuss them, so your baseline was pretty damn pathetic. How were you supposed to ask Eddie what this was now, how were you supposed to behave when anxieties kept clouding you with skepticism?
The longer you lied here and stressed about it, the more you began to confuse yourself over technicalities and your assumptions regarding Eddie’s feelings. Eventually, when you couldn’t take the obnoxious ramblings inside your own head anymore, you shot out of bed and rushed back into your clothes from the night before, hoping you weren’t causing enough noise to rouse Eddie from his sleep.
You fumbled around the nightstand in hopes that there was a pack of cigarettes somewhere, but you cursed when you couldn’t find even a loose one rolling around; but after digging around in the pockets of Eddie’s jacket, you were relieved to find cigarettes and a lighter there as if they were waiting for you.
Creeping out of the bedroom, you exhaled deeply upon noticing that Wayne had already left for the day, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you could have some time alone to make sense of your thoughts and feelings. You stepped out onto the patio, immediately shivering thanks to the November chill in the air - you really could’ve thought this through better and at least grabbed a jacket, but your head was a little too mirky to have considered it. And you weren’t quite brave enough now to turn back around to grab one.
Curling up in one of the ratty chairs, you lit a cigarette and took a drag that was far too deep, as you ended up in a short coughing fit within moments. Once it passed, your anxieties and frustrations immediately returned in full force, making it damn near impossible to clear your head like you’d hoped. Really, you didn’t know what the hell you were so worried about, yet you felt this constant sense of foreboding; logically, it seemed misplaced, especially considering just how good last night was for you, yet it couldn’t be helped.
You finally confessed your feelings to Eddie and by some stroke of luck he reciprocated them, so then why did you have this sinking feeling in your chest? Why were you so convinced that something had to have been miscommunicated or misunderstood? It was as if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the inevitable disappointment that had to come following last night, because that’s how things had always gone for you before when they were actually important.
You were used to disappointment - between your parents and your friends and your exes, you’d come to expect it at this rate. You wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if Eddie didn’t want any kind of serious relationship, if he didn’t want to keep things going between you two; despite yourself, your brain could justify any and all ridiculous reasons for this not to work regardless of how desperately you wanted it to.
You sat out on the patio for what felt like an eternity, watching the relatively uninteresting activity of the trailer park, thinking yourself into an anxious fit. Somewhere between your first and second cigarette, you began pacing across the small expanse of the patio, moving back and forth as if that could somehow put your mind at ease.
It was as you put a fourth cigarette to your lips that you heard the door open behind you, causing you to jump and spin around with wide, nervous eyes. Eddie paused in the door frame, his tired eyes landing on you with something akin to surprise and relief, though you couldn't understand why he looked at you that way.
Despite your best efforts to keep your gaze focused on his face, you couldn’t help but give Eddie a quick up-down, swallowing at the sight of his bare chest and his boxers slung low on his hips. You could see in his expression and posture that he still felt heavy with sleep, and yet his eyes were wide awake, as if he shot straight out of bed upon realizing you weren’t there beside him. He, too, looked you up and down, his shoulders seeming to relax a little as his tired mind tried to catch up with him.
“I thought you were gone.” His morning voice was gruff, and yet you couldn’t help but enjoy it. You dumbly shook your head, unable to think properly now that Eddie stood across from you, disrupting the already chaotic train of thought you’d been consumed with since waking. You removed the unlit cigarette from your mouth, sliding it into your pocket as you looked down at your feet; you could curse yourself for feeling so fucking nervous right now, your heart drumming hard and fast in your chest.
“No, just…” You trailed off, not knowing what you wanted to say anyway. Eddie’s brows were knotted with concern and thought as he stared at you; it almost looked as if he, too, was awaiting disappointment, just the same as you. Biting your lip, you added simply, “Just needed to think.”
Eddie’s chest heaved with a deep sigh as he looked you up and down again, making you wish you could simply read his mind right now - that would make this so much easier, you wouldn’t have to ask him questions or say any of the things that were on your mind.
Eddie looked around, giving you the impression that he was just as nervous as you were right now; clearly, sobriety had both of you a little on edge, “About last night?”
Despite all your nerves, a faint smile nearly ghosted across your lips as everything from the evening prior came flooding back to you. In some ways, it was so much easier to look upon it fondly now that Eddie was here, even as his presence hiked your anxieties. You glanced up at him through your lashes, biting the inside of your cheek at the warm yet trepidation look on his face.
“About last night.” You affirmed in a quiet voice, sheepishly looking around as you continued to make some sense of the chaos going on in your head. Why was it so hard to simply talk to Eddie right now? Why were you so scared to be transparent, to discuss your feelings when clearly you both had things to say on the matter?
Well, because you’d never felt like this before - the answer was obvious, and yet impossible to wrap your head around. The affection and endearment and yearning you felt for Eddie was unlike anything you’d ever experienced in your entire life, and it scared the fuck out of you. He’s been so good to you from the start, has always taken care of you, has let you into his world with open arms, and all of that was now utterly terrifying - the other shoe would inevitably drop soon, right? Something bad had to happen soon, that was all you ever knew. All your relationships - romantic, platonic, and otherwise - were bad, so what would make this any different?
Suddenly fearful of the swell of emotion inside your chest, you turned away from Eddie and took a deep breath; you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head. Now that you weren’t looking him in the eye, it became at least a hair easier to swallow the lump in your throat and talk, even if your words were shaky.
“I… am terrible with feelings. Absolute shit with emotions, okay?” Eddie simply hummed behind you, and even in that simple sound you could almost hear the look on his face - brows up just a little with curiosity, arms crossed, corner of his mouth barely pulled back in a patient, attentive smirk. Whether or not you were making up that expression in your head, you were somehow certain that’s what you’d see if you were brave enough to turn around right now, “It’s hard for me. But… I’ve been confused for weeks, Eddie.”
A very faint laugh escaped him, prompting you to spin back around and look him in the eye with a puzzled, nervous expression; in that brief moment, you forgot your nerves as you found his watchful gaze. And just as you imagined, he was leaning in the door frame with his arms lazily crossed over his chest, a look of even-tempered composure spread across his face.
“You and me both, princess.” He said simply, as if he were refraining from talking too much. Was he doing so to give you the opportunity to speak your mind more easily?
For a long stretch, you stared at one another, your anxieties coming back to you even as you tried to fight them off; you abruptly turned away from him again, your nerves getting the better of you as you suddenly delved into a panicked rambling.
“You’ve made me feel shit I haven’t felt before, and I didn’t want to get confused so I tried to ignore it, but, fuck Eddie I didn’t think I could feel so many things all at once. It was so easy before, being the ice princess - I didn't care about anyone or anything, it was easier to just exist. But then you happened and I can’t even begin to understand why I’m so emotional all the time or how it’s possible for me to like you so much and be scared of that feeling.”
Hearing the worn wood of the patio creak under Eddie’s feet, your eyes grew wide, debating whether or not to turn around or maintain this measly comfort that came from having your back to him. But it didn’t sound as if he were coming any closer, and your prattling continued whether you wanted it to or not.
“Why am I scared? That’s so stupid, am I really that incapable of handling emotions or a relationship? All it took was one nice boy to turn me into a confused, emotional mess? God, you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been these past couple months, and yet I want to run from it, like I don’t deserve it or something. Like no matter what, I’m gonna fuck this up and we’re both gonna end up disappointed.
“This was supposed to be some stupid little way of getting back at everyone in my life, but I guess the joke’s on me because now I’ve got more feelings than I can fucking contain and it’s like no matter what I do, I’m gonna ruin this.”
Maybe it was your nerves, but it was almost as if you could suddenly feel that Eddie had come closer without warning, causing you to abruptly begin pacing back and forth across the expanse of the patio. You kept your head down, still insisting on keeping some kind of pathetic barrier between you and Eddie as your anxiety just continued to escalade.
“This would be so much easier if you just didn’t like me back, Eddie, if you just didn’t care about me - I could’ve gotten over this so fucking easily. I can’t ignore it, and now some part of me wants to run, and I know that’s not fair, but maybe it would’ve made it easier on us both to just pretend nothing ever happened and to go back to how things were before we met and--”
Abruptly, Eddie grabbed your arm and spun you around to face him, causing you to trip over your feet as he steadied you. Firmly, he cupped your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look up at him, forcing your eyes to stare directly into his - his gaze was far too affectionate right now, and it was only at that moment that you realized your eyes were feeling a little too watery for your liking.
“You’re talking yourself into a fit, princess.” Eddie’s voice was low and comforting, his hands warm against your skin as he held you in place. You gulped nervously, your skin breaking out into goosebumps as his thumb brushed tenderly along the apple of your cheek. You looked down, your gaze emptily staring at Eddie’s chin as you could feel the way he studied you, the way he looked at you with care. He dipped his head down just an inch, but was mindful not to get too close, a charmed little laugh escaping his lips and fluttering against yours, “What are you so afraid of?”
Eddie’s question felt too kind and gentle, far nicer than you deserved. Your sad eyes turned back up to meet his, and the tenderness in his gaze was utterly terrifying. You could only manage to whisper, as if incapable of raising your voice any louder, “I’m gonna fuck this up, Eddie; I don’t wanna hurt you and disappoint you and waste your time.”
A sweet smile tugged at Eddie’s lips, and you quickly looked back down nervously. Eddie’s fingers pressed against your skin insistently, “Will you please look at me?”
As if unable to resist the request, your eyes immediately flicked back up; Eddie’s expression brightened a little, clearly pleased that you were cooperating with him instead of resisting.
“You’re never gonna waste my time.” He started firmly, clearly believing every single word he was saying. You shook your head, but his gentle hands stopped you, “You don’t get to decide that. If you like me as much as you say you do, just be with me. Is that such a bad idea?”
You looked between Eddie’s eyes, unsure how to answer him - your head was swimming with confusion, your heart was pounding with anxieties, and yet they were somehow in entirely different places. You tried to outweigh your fear with logic, and yet you remained at odds with yourself. Pressing your lips together tightly, you swallowed while trying in vain to find your voice again. As if Eddie could read your thoughts, he continued.
“Let me make this easy for you,” although he spoke with confidence, you could see that Eddie was just as nervous as you were, that his eyes were alight with concern; hell, you could practically feel how rapidly his own heart was beating, how his arms were ever so gently shaking. He dipped his head closer, your foreheads nearly pressed together, his handsome face causing you to exhale longingly despite all your pent-up fear. Eddie’s voice had also lowered to a near whisper, “We’ve already been faking it for, what, two months now - so, can we just stop pretending? Nothing else is going to change… except that I’ll kiss you more, if you’ll let me.”
You tried to resist the temptation to smile, but you lost that battle quickly; your cheeks nearly hurt as you grinned and let out a nervous laugh, causing Eddie’s own gleeful smile to grace his pretty features. Trepidation was still ever present in your mind, hesitation clearly shining in your eyes, but getting you to smile again was a victory for Eddie, whose thumbs brushed dotingly along your cheeks.
“We’ll be just fine,” Eddie started warmly, his eyes reveling in the smile on your lips, gaze drinking in your features, “okay, princess?”
Your response was but a whisper as you gave a small nod, your breath warm against Eddie’s lips, “Okay.”
Without a need for any further confirmation, Eddie closed the gap between the two of you, crushing his lips against yours with a desperation that made you instantly dizzy. Your hands quickly began to search for grip along his sides, fingernails scratching against his skin as you kissed him back eagerly, a fire lighting in your stomach that burned out your nerves.
Eddie's hands trailed down your cheeks and neck, his gentle touch making your toes curl and sending a shiver up your spine; a deep sigh of satisfaction deflated the fears in your chest as his arms encircled you. You lips became more assertive and eager against Eddie's, hands gripping at him a little tighter as if intent on never letting go.
As your tongue teased along his lower lip, a gust of autumn wind blew past, and you could feel goosebumps breaking out across Eddie's skin beneath your fingertips. You shivered together, Eddie pulling his lips from yours with a faint chuckle.
“Shit, it's cold.” He muttered into your mouth, causing you to laugh along with him. You gave his chest a small nudge, causing Eddie to take a step backwards.
“Then take me inside.” You instructed. With a sly look, Eddie took hold of your hands and dragged you back into the trailer, pressing your back against the door the moment that it was closed so he could steal another fierce kiss. You could have moaned at the way he pressed his body flush against yours, flinging your arms around his neck and twisting your fingers eagerly in his hair. Enjoying the feel of your hands on him, Eddie rolled his hips smally, causing a hungry sound to rise in your throat.
You broke away from Eddie’s lips, but evidently he wasn’t done with you, because he leaned down to plant firm kisses against the side of your neck; you sighed with delight, momentarily forgetting yourself. When you found your words again, you curled your fingers a little tighter in his hair to get his attention.
“Eddie, I--” You cut yourself off before anything more could leave you. Admittedly, you were embarrassed at the idea of simply saying “Eddie, I wanna fuck you so bad right now,” and just thinking those words caused your cheeks to grow fiery hot.
Feeling your hesitation, Eddie lifted his head to look you in the eye, his gaze dark as if in an odd blend of knowing and uncertainty - it was as if he knew what you wanted to say, and yet he doubted you’d say it at all.
“What?” He whispered huskily. It was then you realized you could feel him growing hard against your hip, and fuck you could’ve mewled greedily. Taking a breath and sticking up your chin in an attempt to gain your confidence, you looked between Eddie’s eyes and lips.
“I want you.” You opted for the less vulgar admission, hoping it would keep your temperature from rising quite so high, though you still felt sheepish saying it. Eddie inhaled deeply, taking in your face closely as if he planned on memorizing each and every feature.
The corner of his mouth pulled up in a faint grin, an excitement alight in his eyes, “I’m all yours, princess.”
A bubble of exhilaration swelled in your stomach, your pussy clenching at his words in anticipation. Achingly, you dragged Eddie’s lips back to yours for a fierce, hot kiss, just as quickly pulling back so you could drag him the short distance back to his room.
Unceremoniously, you shoved Eddie down onto the bed, a giddy laugh escaping you at the surprise across his face, clearly unprepared for you to take charge the way you did. Your eagerness and nervousness were at odds inside your chest as you took him in, hooded gaze dragging down his bare torso and locking onto the tent in his boxers. Eddie stared back at you with much the same expression, his brows slowly rising with anticipation as you unbuttoned your shirt and quickly dropped it to the floor.
In the next moment, you slid out of your shorts, pausing there for a moment as if frozen by the way Eddie watched you with a mesmerized expression. Everything within you was taut with arousal as you let Eddie drink your body in a few seconds longer; as if starved, though, you quickly crawled into his lap and kissed him with such urgency that it made you short of breath.
Eddie’s arms snaked around your middle, hands pressed firmly to your back as if to make sure you were real and solid, as if to make sure this wasn’t some dream. With your body flush against his, you could feel each breath in his chest, each flex of his muscles, the tease of his cock awaiting your touch. Still with some uncertainty, you lowered yourself on Eddie’s lap, your hot center pressed comfortably atop his cock, your underwear creating barely enough layers between you two.
As Eddie twitched beneath you, a moan passed from your mouth into his, your hands desperately winding into his hair again and your tongue feverish against his lips. Slowly, you rolled your hips along his length as a depraved groan rumbled in Eddie’s throat; he jerked again eagerly, his grip on your back growing even firmer. You rutted your hips heavily against his cock, pussy tightening with jitteriness and desperation and yearning.
You pulled your lips away from Eddie’s abruptly, only to ravenously kiss and nip along his neck, the feel of your hot mouth causing him to squirm with impatience. You continued to grind your hips at a deep, lecherous pace, your underwear growing damp from the friction and your arousal, desperate for more and more of Eddie’s body.
Pulling back to catch your breath, you found Eddie’s eyes, so dark and hooded as he stared back as if you were a goddamn work of art. Your heart beat wildly in your chest at the look of adoration, and all too quickly you were crashing your lips back to his for a passionate, chaste kiss.
You withdrew again, not just your lips but this time your entire body, sliding down from Eddie’s lap to the floor in front of him, eagerly settling between his knees; as you looked back up through your lashes, his slacked jaw and nervous anticipation made you grin wickedly.
You held Eddie’s eyes as you pressed closer, hands sliding up his thighs and towards the hard tent in his boxers; he swallowed excitedly, watching with intense focus as you finally palmed his cock through the thin layer of fabric concealing it. He tensed, sighing longingly at your touch; when you gave him a slight squeeze, the sigh turned into a gasp.
Eddie took a deep breath in a weak attempt to steady himself, eyes locked on yours for fear of looking away. You gave him one more small squeeze before removing your hand, hooking your fingers into the hem of his boxers; you paused, taking in Eddie’s expression with a teasing glint in your eyes.
When you finally dragged the measly article of clothing down, his cock bounced up and slapped against his abdomen; you bit your lip, holding in the gasp that nearly left your mouth at the sight of him. You hungrily looked between Eddie’s eyes and the throbbing head of his cock, nearly ready to pounce him without warning, though you refrained. No, if you could help it, you were going to take your sweet time with him.
The mere sight of you on your knees for him was nearly enough to drive Eddie mad, his breath shaky as he took in your carnal expression, your eager eyes. In that moment, you were so damn beautiful that he was nearly afraid to touch you, his fists clenching urgently into the sheets on either side of him as he awaited what you’d do next.
You kept your dark stare locked with Eddie’s as you wet your lip, lowering yourself slowly towards his desperate cock. Just your hot breath against him was enough to make Eddie twitch and gasp, your mouth hovering mere centimeters from him; god, you clenched at the needy sound that escaped him, impatient to hear what others you may cause.
Finally, your lips closed around the head of Eddie’s cock, tantalizingly pressing your tongue flat to the underside of his length. Eddie exclaimed with a sinful stutter, hips bucking as you slowly twirled your tongue around him; you sucked in your cheeks, watching Eddie’s face through your lashes. His jaw had gone slack, staring down at you with hooded, mesmerized eyes; it very nearly drove you mad, and this had only just begun.
For a long, cruel beat, you remained unmoving, your stare teasing even with Eddie’s cock in your mouth; you waited until you spotted his impatience, relenting with a satisfied gleam in your eyes. Torturously slow, you took his length as deep as you could, your pussy clenching at the way his body shuddered and twitched as incoherent sounds leapt past his lips. His hips bucked up into your mouth as he frantically grabbed at your hair as if desperate to both stop you and to push you even lower on his cock.
Far too pleased with yourself, you finally stopped teasing, rhythmically bobbing your head up and down, twirling your tongue, drooling down the entirety of Eddie’s cock. With one hand, you squeezed what length you couldn’t fit in your mouth, slowly tightening your grip in response to his eager mewling; the nails on your other hand dug into the skin of his thigh, feeling his muscle flex beneath you.
Your tempo grew sloppier and needier, your once slow pace now growing wetter and greedier each time you made Eddie gasp with pleasure. Your hand squeezed tighter around his thick shaft, tongue tantalizing as it swirled his head. Eddie’s hips jerked up desperately, uncontrollably, his cock gagging you as it hit the back of your throat and the hand in your hair gripping harder as he all too easily fell apart. You used both hands to press down on his hips, a silent insistence to stay put as you shifted on your knees, changing the angle so you could take him even deeper.
He gasped and moaned as your mouth grew more frantic, tongue swirling, lips sucking, teeth grazing each time you took him deep enough that you nearly choked. Eddie’s squirming and begging only encouraged you, your mouth becoming more and more desperate around him, your jaw straining as you slurped and sucked with total obscenity. With his cock practically fully sheathed, you ran your vulgar tongue from base to tip, pressing it against the most sensitive part of his head and making him gasp with a salacious jolt.
“Heyhey--!” Eddie abruptly pulled you off his cock, a string of drool connecting you two as a satisfied, wicked grin spread across your lips. His chest heaved frantically as he stared down at you with glazed eyes, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. You cleaned the drool from your lip with the back of your finger, hungrily looking between Eddie’s pretty face and his throbbing cock.
He laughed breathily in disbelief, making a measly attempt at composing himself. His cheeks were bright red as he looked down at his twitching cock, “Fuck…”
His fingers were still twisted in your hair, gently tugging as he met your eyes again; his expression was sapless, another profane look spreading across your face at the sight of him.
“Want me to stop?” You asked in an airy, tender whisper, realizing that you, too, needed to catch your breath. The question amused Eddie, who shook his head with a weak grin.
“Fuck no, that’s the problem.” You giggled at his response, teasingly pressing your lips to the underside of his cock, which made him jump a little with sensitivity. He dipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath to collect himself.
“Aw, need a minute?” You teased, to which Eddie faintly nodded. For a few moments, you rested your head atop his knee, adoringly watching his chest rise and fall, his Adam’s apple bob, his lips hanging open lustfully.
When he finally glanced back down at you, the look in his eyes was so damn tender that it nearly froze you, unable to move or look away as you drank him in. Once you managed to pull yourself from the hypnosis, you slowly rose to your feet, Eddie’s eyes watching you oh-so closely as you unclasped your bra and stepped out of your lacy underwear, entirely bare in front of him.
You drank in the dilation of his pupils, the heave of his chest, the twitch of his cock, shivering a little under Eddie’s severe, lustful gaze. His eyes trailed over your body, studying every single curve and blemish as if intent on memorizing your skin.
With a deep breath, you grabbed Eddie’s face tenderly between your hands and leaned down, kissing him with a hungry, passionate fervor, moaning against his lips. He blindly reached out for you, pulling you closer until you were flush against him, a satisfied sound escaping his throat at the feel of your skin on his. As you kissed him deeply, desperately, you hiked one knee up onto the bed, your hot center hovering above his thigh, so close that if you were to shift even a little you would graze against him.
Your tongue prodded at Eddie’s lower lip, moaning as his mouth opened to you; his hands tentatively explored your body, fingers digging into your hips, your legs, squeezing your ass with an unsure grip. Needily, you pressed your wet pussy onto his thigh, causing Eddie to moan and pull back so he could look you in the eye.
You breathed into each other’s mouths as you slowly rolled your hips once, making yourself gasp at the sensation; Eddie’s expression quickly darkened, growing hungry at the mere sight of you pleasuring yourself on him. His grip on you tightened, as if silently asking you to keep going, silently begging you to use him all for yourself.
Carefully maneuvering your other knee between his legs, you sat more comfortably atop his thigh and rutted your hips again, the both of you groaning as you threw your head back. Eddie cupped your ass, his hold more firm than before as you started to slowly ride his thigh, your pussy slick and desperate against his hot skin. Your breaths came out in deep shudders, jaw trembling a little when you’d roll your hips just right; you steadied yourself on Eddie’s shoulders, forehead pressing against his as you focused on your rhythm. He couldn’t help but moan at the sight of you, his cock throbbing against your knee as an erotic “fuck” escaped his lips.
When Eddie unexpectedly flexed his thigh, your hips stuttered, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth as you grinded more firmly, more desperately. Your legs were already beginning to tremble as you held tight to Eddie’s shoulders, sloppily kissing him as you rubbed up and down his thigh, pathetic sounds humming in both your throats as the heat in the room kept rising.
Beads of sweat began forming at your temple and the small of your back, your rhythm becoming more and more frantic against Eddie’s body. His lips were hot against your skin, leaving frenzied kisses along the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck; you could feel the way his breathing hitched and faltered, as if he was getting higher and higher along with you. Fuck, you weren’t even touching his cock, and yet you were so goddamn pornographic that it was about to send him over the edge again.
Eddie’s fingers dug into the fat of your ass, pressing you more insistently down against his leg; you pulled your head back just enough to smile stupidly at him, seeing and feeling the way his trepidation had begun to fade away. There was a fire in his eyes as you rubbed against him, his mouth hung open with need and desire as he watched you coming undone.
Biting your lip, you picked up your pace while curving your hips a little more, catching your clit in just the right way that it made your eyes cross. Your moaning grew desperate as you got closer to climax, your nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders to keep steady. He flexed his leg again, watching you through hooded eyes as he relished in your pleasure, breathing in your erotic scent as you gasped at the sensation that shot through your body.
“Eddie--” Your tone was pleading, causing him to hiss carnally between his teeth, his breath hot against your cheek. Your grinding was almost erratic, pussy so desperate as your hips rolled and your toes curled. Your body stuttered abruptly, overwhelming stimulation suddenly washing over you without warning, causing you to throw your head back with unrestrained gasps and whimpers.
Eddie held firmly onto you, the sounds of his own raunchy whines in your ear making your orgasm all the more intense. Your entire body shook for a few moments as you struggled to catch your breath, slumping against Eddie’s front and resting your head on his shoulder. Your chests heaved unevenly against one another, sweat sticky between you; the feel of Eddie’s cock twitching against your leg made you moan with a weak laugh, attempting to regain your composure.
“Fuck…” Eddie managed to pant out as you finally raised your head from his shoulder. When you met his eyes, he was lazily grinning from ear-to-ear, drinking in the sight of your post-orgasm expression; you smiled back, biting your lip as your gaze bounced around his handsome face, “Succubus…”
You laughed again, though the sound was hoarse and airy; you placed your hands at the base of Eddie’s neck, needily kissing him with as much force as you could muster. His hands trailed lazily up and down your back, his hands hot against your skin, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, the sensation bringing back the memory of that damned wet dream you had about Eddie only a mere few weeks ago.
Feeling your lips grinning against his, Eddie couldn’t help but mirror the expression, although his mind was still reeling from the fact that the ice princess just came because of him. Just a couple of months ago, he wouldn’t have dared bet money on the idea that you’d be getting off in his goddamn lap, and yet here you were, kissing him with lust and adoration, still quivering from your orgasm.
When finally you broke from the kiss, it was to look Eddie in the eye again, fingers tenderly curling in his hair as you drank him in. His expression was once again awestruck, and it made you feel flush all over, dropping your gaze as if bashful; his hands lazily slid back down to your ass, gripping you tight enough that you inhaled smally. Your eyes flicked back up so you could stare at Eddie’s handsome face, finally finding your voice again.
“You have condoms?” your tone was airy; the nearly surprised expression on Eddie’s face caused you to smile smally while raising your brows at him. He looked almost as if he had something smart to say, yet all he could do was nod dumbly in response to your question. Holding you close with one steady hand on the small of your back, Eddie leaned towards his nightstand, wrenching the drawer open and fumbling around until he finally found what he was searching for.
As Eddie brought the foil packaging to his mouth, you couldn’t help but ogle him, jaw slacking a little as he easily ripped the foil with his teeth, looking far, far too hot doing so. When his eager eyes found yours again they darkened with desire, and he couldn’t help but lean in to steal a quick kiss; you giggled against his lips, absolutely charmed by the innocence of it.
You snatched the condom from Eddie’s hand with a playful look, pulling your sweaty body away from his so you could crawl further onto the bed; you sat back, ass resting upon your heels as you waited for Eddie to follow after you.
He stayed planted for a beat as if in consideration, though before you could question it he turned to face you again; his eyes languidly trailed up and down your body, breath hitching at the sight of you, still so damn new and exciting for him. When finally Eddie met your eyes again, he smiled almost to himself, finally twisting around so he could crawl up the bed with you. Unable to stop yourself, your lusty gaze was drawn back to his cock, still hard and so goddamn tantalizing, and you felt desperate drool pooling in your mouth.
Eddie swooped in for another swift kiss, causing you to nearly fall back onto the pillows thanks to how unprepared you were for it. You gripped his biceps to stay upright, kissing him back eagerly and adoringly, and for a brief moment you came out of your lustful fog, realizing that kissing him felt so goddamn easy, that being with him was like the most natural thing in the entire world. That thought in mind, you deepened the kiss, wrapping your arms around Eddie’s neck and drawing him closer.
Eddie pulled his lips away so that he could press your foreheads together, breathing you in with affection while his hands came to rest gently atop your knees. You could nearly feel the way he smiled, your lips hovering but a breath away from one another, and it tempted you to lean back in for more.
“I haven’t really done this before.” Eddie blurted out huskily, as if he’d been trying to find the words since the start of this whole thing. You couldn’t help but smile largely, pulling back a little further so you could look at his face.
“‘Haven’t really?’” You teased questioningly, delighting in the way his cheeks blushed even more red than they were a moment before. Eddie looked down, grinning along with you. You gave him a firm kiss in an effort to bolster his confidence, wondering if this meant you’d be Eddie’s first time, or if he was just admitting to having very little experience.
He found your eyes, and although a smile rested on his face, he still looked nervous, “I mean… I’ve only done this once.”
Feeling especially playful - which had never been a thing with previous partners amidst the throes of passion - you looked him in the eye with a near cocky expression, “Well, don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”
To that, an anxious laugh burst from Eddie’s throat, clearly unprepared for what you said; you giggled along with him, teasingly narrowing your eyes at him. As Eddie composed himself, he had to hold back more laughter while fondly meeting your eyes, “I’ll be the judge of that, princess.”
Eagerly, you dragged Eddie in for another kiss, guiding him to lie back on the bed; as you pushed him down against the pillows, you pulled your lips away. He stared up at you with such reverie, his lusty gaze watching closely as you straddled his legs, a faint gasp leaving his mouth as you gently grabbed his cock. You drank in the look on Eddie’s face as you gave him a few slow strokes, his moans turning you on, the way his head leaned back as his eyes fluttered closed utterly intoxicating. An entranced sigh escaped you, feeling how wet you were getting again at simply the sight of his satisfaction.
When you took back your hand, a disappointed whine rose from Eddie’s throat, causing you to grin wickedly; you finally removed the condom from its foil, guiding it down his shaft as butterflies began to flutter wildly in your stomach. Eddie watched through hooded eyes as if he were in awe of you; when you leaned forward onto your palms, his eyes flickered down towards your chest, seemingly engrossed in the way your breasts moved as you crawled up his body till you were centered above his erection.
For a moment, you lingered there, mere inches away as you took the time to enjoy the look of Eddie, the desire alight in his eyes, the parting of his lips, the deep heaving of his chest; fuck, he was so handsome it was almost annoying. You couldn’t help but smile fondly while reaching down between you two, positioning Eddie as another faint sound of desire rose in his throat.
With a final, decisive sigh, you lowered yourself onto Eddie’s cock, your pussy so slick that you slid down hilt deep with ease. You moaned loudly at the way you stretched around his thickness, and in the same breath Eddie’s hands spasmed before gripping your thighs tightly.
“Holy shit--!” He hissed sharply while throwing his head back, the expanse of his neck looking far too appetizing all exposed like that. You stayed still for a couple of moments as you became comfortable with his size, delighting in the way Eddie’s fingers flexed against your skin, the way he caught his breath. You couldn’t help but clench around him, causing another gasp to fall from his lips.
Steadily, you began to roll your hips in a deep motion, your moans mingling together at the way Eddie’s cock stroked deep inside you; the slow pace was very nearly cruel, yet the way he hit all your sweet spots was far too intoxicating. God, you just wanted to lean down and trail bites all along Eddie’s neck, but you feared the change of position would get you too close too soon. So, you continued to grind, Eddie’s cock buried deep in your warm pussy, his hands gripping your thighs so tight that it nearly hurt. Hands braced on either side of his head, your fingers twisted eagerly into the pillow with each rut of your hips.
Eddie’s whines and moans were like music to your ears, encouraging you to shift your knees so you could bounce on his cock, the new angle making you mewl loudly as your eyes crossed. Eddie, too, responded wildly, hands grabbing desperately at your hips and ass and legs, squeezing you with rash need.
The way his girth stretched you out had your pussy flexing tight with yearning, your legs already shaky at the feel of him sliding in and out of your slick folds. Christ, nothing before had ever felt as good as Eddie, no one had ever gotten you so high like this; just that thought alone made you shudder and clench with ecstasy and greed.
With his cock sliding in and out of you, Eddie saw stars in his eyes, his mind running wild, his body like static electricity. Incoherent muttering spilled from his parted lips, gasps and hitched breaths growing more frenzied as you rode him eagerly. You looked like a goddamn masterpiece, your hair a mess, body glistening with a sheen of sweat, hands groping desperately at his shoulders as your pace became more and more frenzied. The fucking sight of you riding him was better than anything Eddie had ever dreamed of, and some part of him was still convinced this moment wasn't entirely real.
A particularly urgent gasp leapt from your throat as you rubbed your clit against the hilt of Eddie’s cock just right, the sensation coursing through your body causing your rhythm to falter as you braced your hands roughly on his shoulders. You had to slow down and collect yourself for just a moment, taken aback by the fact that you had nearly cum again so damn easily. Eddie’s breathing was heavy as he stared up at you, ogling the rise and fall of your chest, the taut muscles in your arms, the way your mouth hung open so erotically; unintentionally, you flexed around him, causing the both of you to moan in unison.
You met Eddie’s eyes again, a dopey smile spreading across your lips at how good he looked beneath you with his hair a mess and his eyes nearly black with lust. He grinned back at you with a weak, breathy chuckle, hands squeezing your legs again, cock twitching inside you; it felt so good that you had to bite your lip to hold back a whine.
“You’re amazing.” Eddie said, his voice light as air; you fondly rolled your eyes.
“Shut up.” You answered without any conviction, leaning down so you could kiss him again. The movement caused you to slide up his cock, making the both of you moan into each other’s mouths. You relaxed onto your elbows, trailing hot kisses along Eddie’s jaw as you slowly began to ride him again, the new angle causing friction against your clit that was absolutely sinful.
Eddie’s moaning and muttering being so close to your ear only made you hotter and hornier, clenching tightly as you picked up your pace. His hands held tight to the back of your thighs, helping you bounce rhythmically up and down on his cock as you continued to nip and kiss at his jawline and neck.
As if he had finally gained the confidence to do so, Eddie started to thrust up into you in time with your movements, putting you into an absolute frenzy as your bodies slapped together. All the moans and gasps that tumbled from your lips were growing increasingly louder and more pornographic, to which Eddie’s thrusts became more solid and quick and rough.
You stopped kissing his sticky skin, sounds of ecstasy spilling out of you with more and more vulgarity, your toes curling and knees shaking from how fucking good Eddie’s cock felt ramming inside of you. You could feel drool trailing along your lip and onto Eddie’s hot neck, but you were too far gone to care, your pleasure overriding all of your senses.
“Shit, I’m close--” Eddie whined as if it were both a plea and a warning, and the desperation in his voice had you moaning even louder, walls clenching tight around him. You weren’t sure when you’d stopped moving, but now Eddie was thrusting up into you so deep and rough that it nearly hurt, but in the best goddamn way possible. Together, you were both moaning wildly, Eddie’s hips becoming erratic as he slapped up against you, your body shaking from the now overwhelming pleasuring washing over you. Your mind was so muddled, entirely wrapped up in Eddie and his cock and how close your orgasm was and--
Eddie groaned desperately with one final thrust, ramming himself deep inside you and holding you tightly in place; you could feel his cock twitching, and just knowing that you’d made him cum practically had you tumbling over the edge with him as well.
His body trembled with his orgasm, head thrown back and fingers digging into your skin; you, too, could feel yourself shaking, desperate for that release that was just out of reach. You breathed heavily, clenching around Eddie and making him moan again as he tried to catch his breath, tried to come back down to earth from the cloud he was on.
After a minute, you could feel Eddie relaxing beneath you, and so you sat up a little, moaning at the way his cock still teased your needy pussy, which was growing urgent for relief; a similar, though weaker, sound rumbled in his throat, hands falling limply on either side of your legs. You stared down tenderly at Eddie’s face; his eyes were still closed as he tried to collect himself, and he looked so pretty that you nearly reached out to touch him.
With your second orgasm delayed, your body was feeling particularly desperate, and with a wicked glint in your eyes, you rolled your hips slowly against Eddie’s. He threw his head back with a whine, fingertips trying to grip at your legs and stop you.
“Fuck, princess--!” The lustful way that the endearing nickname left Eddie’s mouth made your pussy flex around him again, drawing another illicit moan from deep in his throat. He managed to get a weak grip on your knees, eyes shooting open to gaze up into your face; there was an overstimulated nervousness in his blown out stare, which made your lips curl into an infatuated smile. Selfishly, you rut your hips with Eddie’s, making him twitch again with how damn sensitive his cock was. “Baby, please…”
Baby. The new term of endearment made you moan. You held Eddie’s gaze as you ever so slowly continued to grind on his cock, which was still hard even after his own release. Weak, needy noises left Eddie as his eyes crossed and rolled back again, succumbing to you; his body shook beneath yours as you used his cock for your own pleasure, creating a friction on your clit that was making you damn near feral.
Like a mantra, weak, breathy “fuck”s fell from your lips as you chased your orgasm, eyes closed and limbs wobbly as you rode Eddie to your heart’s content. His hands flexed against your legs, fingers clinging, body shaking as if he could barely handle your touch anymore. God, you were so close, the mounting of your pleasure beckoning wildly to you.
You realized that Eddie was muttering your name as if it was a prayer, and it flooded you with such desire and warmth and craving, causing you to cum so abruptly that it took you aback. You cried out and threw your head back, staring frantically up at the ceiling as your body became rigid for a moment. In the next breath, you all but melted on top of Eddie, slumping down and resting your head beside his on the pillow. You quivered as your orgasm consumed you entirely.
When you finally came back to yourself, it was thanks to Eddie’s cock slowly shrinking inside you, the sensation making you shudder and sigh as you opened your eyes again. Your faces were so close that you could feel Eddie’s breath upon your cheek, could barely see his eyes staring back at you. An unexpected laugh of satisfaction left your mouth, and you pressed your face into the pillow as if to suppress it. Eddie nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, arms lazily curling around your waist.
“God damn.” He breathed out, pulling back so you could lift your head to look at him again adoringly. You couldn't help but smile at one another, your chests still rising and falling as you composed yourselves. You drank in Eddie’s post-sex expression - the relaxed slant of his brow, his slack jaw, the daze in his eyes. The look made you want to kiss him again and again as if he was the air you breathed.
So, you leaned in to give him that chaste kiss that you desired, which caused his eyes to light up and a smile to spread across his handsome face when you pulled back. His arms tightened around you as he stared ardently upon your face. Shifting so that you two could lie on your sides, Eddie’s cock finally slid out of you, which caused you to moan one last time; the sound made him laugh smally, though you could somehow hear the tenderness in it.
“So… this makes you my real girlfriend now, right?” He asked with a large, silly grin, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes fondly. Lazily, you knotted your fingers into his messy mane of curls, taking a few moments to simply admire his handsome features.
“You want me to be?” Eddie pulled a face as if to say “are you fucking kinding me,” which made you laugh all over again. He narrowed his eyes playfully, challenging you to do the simple task of giving him a real answer. Affection and warmth swelled inside your chest, making you smile largely - all you could manage was to nod vigorously in agreement, feeling your cheeks growing hot at all the emotions you were feeling.
“Come on, you can say it, can’t you?” He teased wickedly, causing you to bite the inside of your lip. With a sincere look and a deep breath, you delicately cupped Eddie’s face in your hands, holding his stare firmly as you tried to control the joyful grin on your lips.
“Eddie,” You started, your tone clearly amusing him, which nearly made you giggle again; luckily, you composed yourself, “I’m your real girlfriend now.”
His smile was large and dazzling and enchanting, his dark eyes tender as they looked about your face with what must have been all the happiness in the world. He leaned in a hair closer, forehead against yours once more as he whispered on your lips, “That’s all I needed to hear, princess.”
.
.
addt. a/n: I can't thank everyone enough for following along with this story, it's one that's so very special to me, and it warms my heart to know others love it as well! I could write an entire essay full of things I'd like to say about this little fic, but I'll spare everyone of my ramblings. So, how soon should I post the epilogue 👀
@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf
@costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie
@dreamerjj @eddiernunson @feralgoblinbabe @frogtape @fromasgardandback
@fckyeahlames @graciehams @kellsck @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths
@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili
@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets
@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @ollieolive @rach5ive @rcailleachcola
@sapphire4082 @sassidykassidy @sav12321 @seatbacksandtraytables @sheneedsrocknroll92
@steeldaisies @stormgrl19 @teethvenom @tvserie-s-world @twihard28
@urlivingdeadgirl @v1per1ne @welcometohellsock @whats-my-question @xxsxdghxstxx
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#stranger things#em
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One thing I have only just been able to articulate regarding the feminist truism of 'men need to call out each other's sexual assaults or they aren't real protectors' is
Why would anyone let soneone straight-laced like me find out he did something unambiguously awful? And that's even assuming I even know someone!
Why is this not apparent?
This is the one that's not that hard to answer, but the answer is ridiculous?
It's because they don't believe good men actually exist.
that's it. They think that good men don't exist, that anything good men do is phony posturing and lies to feed their egos, and so the accusation of 'not real protectors' is not based on the idea of good people, but rather that the bad men they imagine to be everywhere will take that as a risk to their facade of heroic masculinity and thus change their ways to fit the masquerade they are pulling.
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HAPPY HOLLYDAZE!! More Lady Mo if possible!!! ✨
a continuation of 52 53 54 55 56 57
"I believe," Lan Wangji says severely, "that what my wife does or does not do is no one's concern but mine."
Xuanyu raises an eyebrow at that, which he ignores. He knows exactly what she thinks about his concern regarding her actions. She'd been irritated that he was upset she faced fierce corpses alone, of all things.
Jin Zixun pales, but he must have a high opinion of his own importance because he says, "For fuck's sake, you're being ridiculous. A year ago no one would have cared if she drunk herself to death and now she can't even have a little wine?"
Lan Wangji does not make the conscious decision to unsheathe his blade, but there it is gleaming in his hand.
Jiang Yanli is being pushed back into her seat by her husband while her son stares wide eyed.
There's some intense shuffling from the Lan section. Although he doesn't turn around, he does hear Jingyi and Sizhui whispering furiously. He wonders who is restraining who.
Jiang Cheng is standing with a hand on his sword and no one is going to any effort to restrain him at all. Li Shuchun, the only one that might have a chance of it, is leaning back to exchange money with another Jiang disciple.
"This is quite enough!" Jin Guangshan shouts. "What's this about? Sect Leader Lan-"
"Oh, be quiet Father," Xuanyu says, getting to her feet and stepping forward to grab his hand and shove his hand down. "What's with you today, Wangji? Put that away." She's very close and glaring at him, so he resheathes his sword.
"Jin Xuanyu!" Jin Guangshan thunders.
She rolls her eyes, turning to Jin Zixun. She punches his shoulder, a move that he dodges instantly. Which leaves him wide open when she grabs his sword off his hip, tosses it to Jin Guangyao, and then drops to kick his legs out from under him.
She pushes down on his shoulder, keeping him on his knees, and says, "Wangji, dear, would you hold him for me?"
She called him dear.
He steps to grab Jin Zixun's wrists, keeping him in place.
"What are you doing?" he howls. "You can't just-"
"You wanted to drink, right?" she asks then picks up a wine bottle with one hand and pinches his nose shut with the other.
He opens his mouth and Xuanyu pours wine down his throat. He can either drink or drown.
"Come on," she says cheerfully, "don't you want to drink to another fruitful year? Have some more!"
He drinks until he's coughing and sputtering, eyes glassy. Everyone just watches, but then again who is there to say anything? Jin Zixuan is keeping himself firmly in his own seat and Jin Guangshan and Madame Jin are just staring, probably more interested in watching everyone else's reaction then anything else.
"There," she says once the bottle is empty. "Feeling better?"
"You're crazy," he coughs.
Xuanyu's grin widens. "I am the legitimate daughter of Sect Leader Jin. I am the wife of Hanguang Jun. What I am is someone who is above you. You're lucky I don't have you whipped for your impudence. Isn't he, Father?"
Jin Guangyao has never once made a fuss about his status, afraid that what was easily given could be easily taken. Xuanyu clearly is, because her own status can't be revoked without making a mockery of the Jin's treaty with the Lan, and Jin Guangshan either reaffirms her rights and privileges as his daughter or risks lowering the authority of the son he does favor - Jin Zixuan.
Lan Wangji is suddenly grateful that Xuanyu hadn't been interested in manipulating him to her benefit.
Jin Guangshan is nearly purple in rage, but he gets out through clenched teeth, "Yes, Xuanyu. Of course."
"Why has the music stopped?" she asks the hall, giving Lan Wangji a look. He lets go of Jin Zixun and can't help the curl of amusement when he falls flat on his face. "This is a banquet, after all!"
The music starts up again and conversation slowly starts once more as Jin Zixun stumbles from the hall. He doesn't want to leave her side, but she's seated by Jin Guangyao once more and chatting about the schedule for tomorrow. Jin Guangyao seems supremely relaxed, which Lan Wangji is given to believe that means he's laughing on the inside.
He sits down next to his brother, waiting for the scolding he rightfully deserves.
"Wangji," Xichen says seriously. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I think I love your wife."
He hides his smile behind his teacup.
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I can't take it anymore. The new Chainsaw Man chapters are so good I have to talk about them. Spoilers for chapters 176-178 below.
Love Yoru here. She undermines the sacrifices Asa has made and describes them as "trifling things" because in Yoru's eyes she has a much bigger goal. She constantly makes fun of Asa because Asa is a child and therefore values things much lesser than the dreams of the War Devil. It's so insane because right in the next panel,
Asa acts like an adult! Would you sacrifice the things you have fought for the sake of your own gain? You say one thing but mean another. Asa is much like Yoru in this regard, she wishes to fulfill Denji's dreams (whatever they may be) and protect him. But in reality, she wants to do these things for the sake of proving she is a "good" person.
This connects back to the church briefly touched on in the previous chapters! What makes a good person? Action or intent? Many people go to church to follow tradition, and follow the values of this religious system because it will secure them in, what they believe to be, heaven. If one does good for the sake of personal gain, can we say that person is "good"?
Yoru and Asa both are willing to destroy what they had wanted to protect in order to gain this "goodness". Asa, without really understanding, is harming Denji while trying to do right by him. And Yoru, who is willing to kill her comrades for...
This! She is willing to give up everything for the sake of proving she is a "more fearsome devil"! She ridicules Asa for the "trifling things" she values, and yet she is sacrificing her own kin for the sake of the most petty bullshit dick measuring contest EVER. One that Chainsaw Man does not even care about. It's not a contest between two of the most "fearsome devils" it's a desperate devil attempting to find any means to remain relevant.
This is some teenager angst coming from a centuries old horseman of the apocalypse.
Armless, mouthless, and with zero agency she comes to realize her pettiness and chooses to steal the freedom of choice from her children. They must serve her as her mouth and her arms. Children then are:
Asa was saved by her mother from the Typhoon Devil. In reality, despite Asa's flaws she is a teenager. She wants go to college, have a home, have friends. Her story reflects Denji's. She wanted a normal life where she was loved and yet, her agency was taken by a devil much more powerful than her and now she must find meaning and power in a position stripped of those things.
In a way she is attempting to find a silver lining, "If I can protect Denji, that means I'm still a good person despite everything". Which is so tragic, because in more ways than one, she was never truly able to make a sound decision due to the lies she was told and the possession of her body.
And come this horrifying sequence of events. Where Asa finds herself as the War Devil, hollowed out of her original heart. Her dream desecrated by war waged for the most petty bullshit dick measuring contest EVER. And isn't that all war? As the Statue of Liberty reveals itself to be a cocooning child of war. True freedom, in the hands of law makers and of devils, is defined by one's ability to wage war and decide who, in the end of mindless violence, is the true victor.
Individuals willing to kill children understood to be a parents' property, or a state's property, are devils through and through.
This is the fundamental horror of being a child, of being poor, of being irrelevant. This is the fate devils and humans similar to Yoru avoid by constantly participating in petty bullshit dick measuring contests.
Denji and Yoru are children who have been hollowed out so devils and humans can wage violent wars that destroy colleges, homes, and families with these children's bodies and hearts.
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My Favorite Good Omens Moment:
An Essay on Why It Is Cool and Rad (Part 1)
There's this moment in Good Omens that makes me cackle every time I see it and leaves me full of warmth, so here's an essay on its context and meaning, because explication and analysis are how I show love. I will try to keep my thoughts as tight as possible, but they do have a tendency to spiral outwards, and I am very stoned. Come, sistren, and get nerdy with me.
My favorite moment in the series so far occurs in 1601. To approach it we will first need an assload of context. There's a TL;DR in bold at the end of the Context if you don't fancy reading the whole assload. Key arguments are in italics and bold throughout.
David Tennant gives Crowley a very consistent facial expression every time Aziraphale says something so outlandish Crowley can't quite believe he's hearing it. It's this one:
Chronologically, we see the Eyebrows of Disbelief twice before my fave moment in 1601: once (above left) in that scene on the Garden Wall that familiarizes the audience with Crowley's face before adding the dark glasses, when Aziraphale admits he's given away his sword; once when Aziraphale tells Bildad the Shuhite that he, Aziraphale, has Fallen because he lied to the angels to save Job's children.
The Eyebows of Disbelief always signal surprise and amusement with something Aziraphale has said or done. This amusement is sometimes at Aziraphale's expense and sometimes not.
In the gifs above, Crowley is laughing because what Aziraphale has just admitted to doing is fantastic and unexpected and frankly pretty gd punk rock. He's not laughing at Aziraphale, he's laughing because he is delighted with him. The only record we have thus far of Crowley laughing at Aziraphale is this one:
Crowley laughs when Aziraphale informs him--him, a demon who has personally been through the process of Falling--that Aziraphale is Fallen and must be a demon now. As though of the two of them Aziraphale is the expert on how and under what circumstances this occurs.
And yet when Crowley sees Aziraphale's distress--not his fear of being taken to Hell, but his heartbreak and lostness over the fact that his conscience has diverged from God's stated will--Crowley stops laughing, and instead he acts very kindly towards Aziraphale. He validates the gravity of what Aziraphale has done and assures him he won't turn him in. He sits with him so Aziraphale isn't totally alone (like Crowley probably was) as he goes through the loneliest moments of his existence to that point and picks himself up newly weighted with the secret he must now bear.
And after this scene (in canon as it stands thus far), we don't see Crowley laugh at anything Aziraphale says or does again.
And he really has to work for it sometimes. We talk a lot about the things Michael Sheen is able to convey with his face in Good Omens, and absolutely rightly so; David Tennant earns a chunk of his paycheck in this regard as well. If you haven't given yourself the treat yet, rewatch the scene in Will Goldstone's magic shop in 1941 and focus on Crowley's reactions:
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Tennant takes great care to show, with precision, that Crowley is expending effort not to react to Aziraphale's nervous chaos Muppetry and lack of self-awareness. Crowley is self- and socially and contextually aware enough that he knows (better than Aziraphale, at least, which is not a high bar to clear) what's cringe, what's funny, what's ridiculous, how to behave. But whenever Aziraphale crosses a boundary of normalcy, or even sanity, and there is opportunity to laugh at him, Crowley very carefully doesn't react. He doesn't interrupt him, he doesn't try to correct him, he doesn't make fun of him, he doesn't even smirk; he just watches him, as stone-faced as he can manage, no matter how bizarre Aziraphale becomes.
We should be reading this lack of reaction to Aziraphale's social and rational transgressions as powerful positive action. Go watch the Doctor Who episode "Human Nature," or literally any episode of The Inbetweeners, or read or watch Regeneration, and reflect on what it shows you about English masculinity; then consider again the depth of significance in how English- and male-coded character Crowley treats English- and male-coded character Aziraphale in an England created by an English and male-codedpresenting author based off a book written by himself and another male-presenting author. Within its context of English masculinity, Crowley's lack of reaction is not a neutral stance; it is a very fucking loud show of support.
This is not even an inference; it's stated outright in the show. Crowley himself puts it into words 422 years after my favorite moment:
You know how Crowley calls Aziraphale "angel" because the factuality of the descriptor offers him plausible deniability to any Heavenly or Infernal agents who might be listening? Remember how Crowley is a great equivocator? Crowley is equivocating here, too: he's using the cover of what Maggie and Nina will take as a disparaging joke at Aziraphale's expense in order to make a perfectly sincere statement. This is his genuine perception of one of the relationship dynamics he has with Aziraphale and how he feels about that dynamic. Crowley thinks he himself is quite witty (an accurate assessment), Crowley thinks Aziraphale isn't sufficiently self- or contextually aware to hide how strange he is and therefore frequently says and does mad things (also an accurate assessment), and Crowley is Into. That. Shit.
Okay. Now let's look at 1601.
Chronologically it's been almost 1,000 years since we last saw Aziraphale and Crowley. In 537, Aziraphale isn't willing even to consider a labor-saving working arrangement with Crowley of fucking off home out of the damp of Arthurian Wessex; but by 1601, he's worked (and met, and Arranged) with Crowley "dozens of times now," Crowley says, and Azirapahle does not correct him.
In that millienium, Aziraphale has grown to care deeply about Crowley:
In fact he may be somewhat smitten with him:
Seriously, go back and watch Aziraphale here as Crowley approaches and starts speaking to him: he doesn't start smiling until he recognizes that the person speaking to him is Crowley (but he only smiles at Crowley while Crowley's not looking at him).
And Crowley is definitely become smitten with Aziraphale:
Our man(-shaped entity) is so allergic to work he sets up a meeting to weasel, cajole, or (as it happens) cheat a coin toss to get Aziraphale to do an easy temptation for him in Edinburgh, and then in the same conversation agrees to miracle a play into success because Aziraphale gives him a single hopeful look. Crowley's got it bad.
TL;DR: The Eyebrows of Disbelief happen when Crowley is surprised and amused by something Aziraphale has said or done. Sometimes that amusement is delight with Aziraphale; sometimes it is at Aziraphale's expense. Crowley is aware of this distinction, and when his amusement is at Aziraphale's expense, he suppresses it, even when it takes some effort on his own part, and remains stocially composed. This is equivocation on his part: to Celestial/Infernal operatives lacking knowledge of the intricacies of human behavior, this non-reaction would seem like neutrality; to Aziraphale, who shares with Crowley and the audience the contextual knowledge of English masculinity's utter viciousness, this non-reaction is a profound show of support; and in the safety of support from Crowley, Aziraphale lets his weirdness blossom.
As another meta points out [link if I find it again], we also see in Aziraphale's wordless request about Hamlet and Crowley's immediate understanding of it that by 1601 Aziraphale and Crowley have developed an unspoken, coded method of communication with each other.
Now that we have all of that in mind, here's my favorite moment in Good Omens:
Ixi of Fuck Yeah Good Omens has even kindly archived a closeup of the aftermath, for Crowley, of "Buck up!" In gif 4, above, you can see that the tiny smile is an involuntary reaction that happens as Crowley's eyes widen: for a fraction of a second, he's caught off-guard. In the closeup it's easier to see that he suppresses the smile and gives a tiny shake of his head, Eyebrows of Disbelief heading for his hairline.
There are a number of things Crowley's reaction could mean and what messages it could communicate (we'll get to that in a sec), but regardless, his reaction is, unquestionably, one of surprise and suppressed amusement. This is an aspect of Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship and characters that I like very much, viz., that one of the reasons Crowley likes Aziraphale (though Aziraphale is judgy and occasionally, unintentionally, horrifyingly cruel) is that in addition to being one of the kindest and most courageous beings in existence, Aziraphale is mad as a bag of frogs. Crowley does not know what is going to come out of Aziraphale's lovely mouth next, but Crowley does know there's a good chance he will struggle to believe he's hearing it, and Crowley likes that.
That's what makes this my favorite moment. What makes this moment so cool and rad, though, is its ineffability. We know from the Eyebrows of Disbelief that Crowley is surprised and amused, but any of several things could be read in that almost imperceptible headshake. Like:
What are you doing? or
Why are you like this? or
How can you be aware that you say these things out loud and yet still say them out loud? or
How has my existence come to this? this moment of listening to such insanity?
each of which is a fair and just feeling to have/message to communicate to a man(-shaped entity) who is yelling "Buck up!" at Hamlet.
But that's only if we read Crowley's amusement as being at Aziraphale's expense. And I don't think we should. Because watch Aziraphale here:
He's doing it on purpose. He is shouting a hilariously inappropriate, 100% authentic Aziraphale-brand thing over arguably the gloomiest passage of Shakespeare's famously gloomy play--right after Crowley complains about its gloominess--and he is watching Crowley as he does it. Look at his smile! He knows he's being Deeply Uncool, and he is doing it literally right into Crowley's face.
Remember that we just talked about how by this point in the chronology Crowley and Aziraphale have learned to communicate with each other nonverbally through facial expression? So what does it mean when Aziraphale responds to Crowley's grumbling about Hamlet's gloominess by smiling his minxious Mona Lisa Aziraphale smile, looking right into Crowley's face, and yelling at Hamlet to buck up? Aziraphale, in a carefully coded, carefully Aziraphale way, is joking with Crowley. His silliness in this moment is for Crowley.
So with aaaaaaallllll of this essay in mind, what does it mean that Crowley's reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" is widening eyes, an involuntary twitch of his mouth toward a smile, and then, his eyebrows still showing surprise and amusement, a tiny shake of his head?
Once more, with inferences:
I do propose, y'all, on the basis of this web of evidence I submit for consideration, that what we are seeing here in my favorite moment of Good Omens is the ineffable equivalent of Aziraphale and Crowley sharing a laugh.
Crowley's amusement here isn't at Aziraphale, because Aziraphale is eliciting that amusement consciously and deliberately. Aziraphale, in good spirits and happy to see Crowley, uses his Aziraphaleness to offers Crowley not only an opportunity for amusement, but the opportunity to be in agreement with him about what in this situation is funny. They're on the same side of this joke.
And his humor lands just as he wants it to: Crowley, just for a moment, is caught off-guard, and tickled--
But remember, Crowley is worried in this scene about being surveilled ("I thought you said we'd be inconspicuous here"), and he worries about audio surveillance a lot ("Walls have ears"; "Don't say that. If my lot hear [etc.]," etc.), so he's very limited in what reactions he can show or voice. Aziraphale knows Crowley must be perceived by anyone watching or listening to disapprove of his, Aziraphale's, behavior (just as he must be perceived to disapprove vociferously of Crowley's). Both of them know this.
--so Crowley suppresses the smile almost successfully, and shakes his head at Aziraphale, minutely, to say Stop. What you're doing is working, you're close to making me laugh, and if I show how much you have just delighted me, it will blow our cover of "just an Arrangement."
I offer three final data points in advancing my argument that what we see in my favorite Good Omens moment is Aziraphale successfully attempting to joke with Crowley and Crowley recognizing that overture from Aziraphale and being momentarily surprised into a reaction of genuine delight before pulling his face back under control and indicating to Aziraphale that he must stop:
Datum 1. Nothing going on with Crowley's face in this moment is accidental. We know for sure we're not seeing David Tennant react to Michael Sheen here not only because of literally every other point of Tennant's and Sheen's performances in the show, but because Tennant is wearing opaque contacts and sunglasses under film lighting and therefore cannot be reacting to anything more compelling than a level-10-lift blur because Tennant cannot see shit. Crowley's reaction is a deliberate and careful performance choice on Tennant's part, and it's underscored by director Douglas Mackinnon's choice to film Tennant in 1/2 profile to keep Crowley's eyes visible and face readable to the audience. This reaction is supposed to be there and supposed to be meaningful.
Datum 2. The husbands in 1601 is not the only moment in Good Omens when we may be seeing an angel and a demon communicate the message Stop doing that, it makes us look too familiar between themselves with a little headshake:
Datum 3: There is another moment in Good Omens when Aziraphale offers Crowley the opportunity to enjoy a joke with him. There, too, his humor lands just as he intends, so we can use this other moment as a comparison to our 1601 moment. I don't have gifs for it, but go back and watch it, S1E6 49:27-42. Snips below.
Aziraphale says something that surprises and amuses Crowley (he asked Hell for a rubber duck while he was sloshing around in the holy water)--
--but what Aziraphale says makes Crowley smile long before it makes him laugh.
In fact, his laugh, though a genuine cackle, is quite delayed, and he laughs only after Aziraphale starts laughing too.
In other words, Crowley's reaction to Aziraphale offering him amusement they're both on the same side of is exactly the same as his reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" right up until he laughs instead of shaking his head. Here, after Armageddidn't, Crowley doesn't have to suppress his reaction, so he can let the smile bloom; he doesn't have to control his response, so, although it takes him a few extra seconds, he lets the smile turn into a laugh.
But in 1601, it's not safe to laugh at Aziraphale's humor. It's not safe even to smile at him. A single piece of evidence or eye/earwitness testimony that he and Crowley have anything more friendly than the most passing and acrimonious of professional relationships could mean death to either or both of them, and depending on what Falling is like, maybe something worse than death for Aziraphale.
But Aziraphale is so funny, so effervescent for Crowley, at Crowley, that it catches Crowley just for a moment. Crowley's eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches toward a smile.
And that's dangerous. If Aziraphale keeps acting so charmingly mad, Crowley is going to laugh, and they can't afford that risk, so he shakes his head at Aziraphale. Stop, or I won't be able to keep a straight face around you.
And Aziraphale apparently receives that message, because he immediately eases off. Less than 60 seconds later we learn that he's deeply concerned for Crowley's safety--and that it's not so much that Aziraphale has Crowley wrapped around his little finger as it is that Crowley has wrapped himself around Aziraphale's little finger like a snake arranging itself on the tree branch it calls home.
UPDATE 14/10/23: HOLY SHIT Y'ALL IT GETS EVEN BETTER! THERE IS A SEQUEL!
#good omens#good omens meta#good omens 1601#good omens microexpressions#good omens headshake#angelfish#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#good omens fanalysis
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What makes you different...
...from their previous partners?
requested by anon.
like & rb if it resonates ♡
01.
Your person has been through it, and you may have too, which for many of you forms a deep understanding regarding fears of repeating the type of betrayal you have both seen. In comparison to their past rendezvous, they find your relationship very secure. They feel free to voice their thoughts and feelings without guilt or shame, or outright fear of retaliation as they've grown to expect misunderstandings and gaslighting. For many, they have been cheated on, so your honesty, integrity, and loyalty sets you apart from their prior experiences.
I see them taken aback quite often. Their previous relations may have trained them to always anticipate the worst, so the clarity in your communication and how you handle conflict takes them by surprise. They're used to shouting matches and slamming doors. You express yourself when you are hurt in ways that does not tear them down. There's no eye for an eye with you because you're not as spiteful as their past lovers. Really, they simply put don't need to fear you.
They could have remnants of a jealous streak, though it transforms into a protective nature over time as they come to find that they truly can trust you. You play no games made for them to lose, and you do not go out of your way to cause them jealousy or fear the end of the relationship. You're understanding even when you air your grievances, and wish to solve problems rather than create new ones and make it worse and make them regretful they every said anything at all.
They feel safe to allow you much further into their internal world than others before you because you are respectful of what lies beyond the surface and beyond. You're neither judgemental or cruel, petty, and neither are you a bully. The way the two of you are able to relate to each other's history and defining moments inspires an unspoken promise to keep each other safe, and never trespass against boundaries or breaking any agreed upon rules.
Passion, they'll find, holds hands with love, not just with hate. They find your unquenchable thirst and will to engage with and pursue your desires intoxicating. You inspire them where others have knocked them down or ridiculed them. You encourage their passion and make them feel appreciated, even admired. Others have forced them to turn cold, but you reignite their emotional expression, awakening it from its hibernation so that it may come out to play in your spring weather.
02.
Your person has often resorted to selective hearing just to keep themselves both calm and sane. Friends and family would tell them frequently how poorly they choose their partners. They are not quite certain how or why they wound up repeating patterns in the past. Acting on impatience infused impulse they would take prospective partners at face value and believe their facades, exaggerations, and lies. Then before they'd know it, they'd find themselves in commitment with someone falling short of their ideals and what they thought they were signing themselves up for based on promising beginnings which quickly turned sour.
I see them in the past dealing with people first seemingly so deserving of worshipping, only for the tune to change to simply entitled and bratty very quickly. You are clear in your expectations and standards, but you're not loud in your demands, and to them it is refreshing that you rarely make them. This causes them to really take the demands you do make to heart and try to give you what you want or need, or try in earnest to find compromise where needed. After so many partners chewing them out and complaining about this and that at a constant flow of negativity, you're a shocking change of pace.
You're not needlessly argumentative and choose your battles wisely. They're used to practically carrying their partners away from conflict and praying to higher beings they won't even start when they'd just like a peaceful outing or a nice afternoon. The only drama you bring to the table is gossip shared for the two of you to joke about together like best friends, not the kind where they are expected to end fights you started.
By comparison to past lovers, you are mature and ooze worthiness, the kind you don't need to be so loud about. What comes to mind is the demands of princess treatment vs. earning queen treatment. Their past is full of rather immature partners who rarely pursued their own goals, and your ambition, self awareness and sense of self worth rather than ego and chasing empty applause makes them view you as an equal who is truly worth their time, money, effort, and devotion. You're on the same wavelength and it makes the whole power couple thing come so much more naturally.
Not to mention you're much better received by their friends and family. They really have no concerns about bringing you home to meet their family because they know how you carry yourself with grace, and how your charm is genuine. You're very natural and likeable, and don't try too hard. Loved ones may very quickly tell them not to screw this up, and make sure you're always comfortable and feel welcome in their homes, and begin nudging your person very early on to put a ring on it.
03.
Your person has very little experience before you, possibly none for some, at least nothing serious enough to write home about. You fit their idea of love very well, however, and they can feel surprised by how well things go with you. They've heard horror stories from friends and read the reddit posts about wildly tumultuous relationships, and be shocked by their first serious relationship with you.
It's just so easy. You compete only with their solitude, and always seem to win. They find themselves at peace with you more than they ever expected to when sharing so much time and space with another. Things weren't supposed to work out so well in this day and age, and the romcoms were exaggerations, right? Yet they find your relationship so sweet, and stable in its simplicity.
They have a past with some kind of toxicity aimed at them. For some this is family, for others it's a friend. Either way they've been used to making themselves small and to take on burdens of others by force. Emotional labour performed with a gun to their head. They have no qualms about caring for you, and are in fact more than happy to be at your beck and call because you're encouraging of them too. It's quite sad to say, but it seems that either in their family or amongst their peers they've often wound up with a target on their back solely for, well, being an easy target.
You help them stand up for themself, and help them overcome a lot of things which cause them anxiety. They're able to share their thoughts and feelings, express their excitement about their interests and feel heard when they're with you. You may very well share quite a few interests in common, which to them is an entirely new concept as they're used to others finding their interests dumb, childish, or useless. You seem to make equally amazing friends and lovers.
They're very clever and you're one of the first to give them credit for it. You're able to gently coax them out of their shell, and their otherwise cautious nature shifts to a more adventurous and daring one. And this all by no means require great efforts on your part, as by simply being your usual self makes them feel safe enough to be themselves too. You're quite similar in many ways, though you differ in how you come to the same conclusions on different topics, and these variables are small but delightful surprises for the two of you to rejoice over and discuss. You're a very healing and brightening connection in their life, and as thanks they'd fetch you the moon if they could.
04.
There is a lot of chemistry between you and your person, much more than they have experienced in previous relationships. That's not to say they have necessarily all been bad, they just lacked this kind of easy yet electrifying, "meeting of the minds" -type of chemistry. Their past lovers have been drama-free and they've enjoyed very stable relationships, albeit very milquetoast in comparison to you and the relationship you provide. Don't take this the wrong way, but they dated "perfect" long enough to realise it is merely good enough, and you with your various hiccups are more interesting and much more worth their attention. Imperfections are needed and challenges are opportunities to strengthen bonds in ways "perfect" cannot.
Though many of their previous partners have, like they themself, been stable and secure, they have also felt taken for granted, and in some instances, taken advantage of. They're a very reliable and caring person, but have not always had the best luck in terms of finding reciprocal love. More often than not, affections quickly grew monotonous and became routine, leaving them under the impression that love is just that, routine. Gifts and attention easily grew to be something expected of them rather than something truly appreciated and met with gratituse and adoration.
They're dutiful in all areas of life, but find a new pep in their step regarding their romantic duties thanks to you. They find you delightful and full of surprises. The latter being something they perhaps thought was a bad thing for a long time. You keep them on their toes a little. Enough to excite them and keep the sparks flying, but not to the point of making them nauseous. You're different from them, and as they previously dated people much too similar to themself, you're a welcome breath of fresh air, like coming face to face with the sea and its breeze for the first time.
They feel a sense of freedom with you that they never found in their past relationships. Sometimes they may have walked on eggshells, but most of all I see them often turning into a shell of their true self. In their pursuit to stick to a comfortable routine and not upset their previous partners with anything too wild or crazy, they held back on things they wanted, and put running the day to day smoothly above their own interests and whims. Through you they reconnect with these things, and you inspire them to reach for new opportunities and tap into their slumbering zest for life.
The nostalgia you evoke by merely daring to stay true to yourself, speaking your mind and pursuing your own adventures makes their efforts of creating stability in your relationship actually feel worthwhile and welcome. You fascinate them, and every day they learn something new about or through you, which makes them feel more alive. They find themselves reminiscing about how they used to be before, until they slowly take their power back and align more with their true self. Their attraction to you never seems to dull down and they more readily show their appreciation and love for you. You inspire a greater sense of romance in them, and have them thinking very differently about love. Where they previously had their linear idea of how a relationship progresses, they suddenly take more risks and stop thinking about things so meticulously and leave some things up to chance. Where once they would've waited 5 years to propose, they no longer feel the need for these arbitrary and restrictive milestones and simply propose when it feels right.
05.
Your person is quite the whirlwind. They've explored many options in love and life, or at the very least had plenty of offers. None of them ever fit quite right, though, and many may have accused them of being too picky or unreliable due to their flighty nature. You're more akin to them, and balanced in all the right places to match their energy. There is a healthy kind of push and pull between you which keeps things interesting in the long run. Many before you have been demanding in terms of commitment and how that commitment is supposed to look like, and how and when things are meant to unfold. Your love isn't like clockwork, and though you have your ideas and hopes for the future of the relationship, you don't make demands and nag them down to the bone when things don't happen on your schedule.
This actually leaves room for their spontaneity, and keeps their interest alive and well, inspiring them to take bigger leaps in love precisely because restraints don't weigh them down. Others before you have been a little too predictable for them. The scheduling types with their plethora of to-do lists and colour coded planners which only makes them anxious and has them running for the hills. You're willing to explore and experience life, and they appreciate your willingness to at least give things a try, even when you're scared or uncertain.
This isn't to say they would push you beyond your limits or cross boundaries. They've simply dealt with a lot of naysayers and those who are never up to the challenge and would rather not invest their time or energy into something unknown. Unlike those before you, you take a bite of that unfamiliar food, agree to watch the pilot of that show, or pack a weekend bag on short notice to get out of town for an impromptu getaway.
Best of all, when you don't wish to leave your comfort zone you allow them the freedom to venture out on their own, without guilt tripping them into staying or blowing up their phone when they're away, freaking out when they don't respond immediately, or otherwise make their free spirit out to be the worst thing in the world. They return the same energy to you and have no qualms about your individual pursuits and are very encouraging of your prospects, opportunities, and ideas.
I see them watching you sometimes as you engage excitedly with something new that's caught your interest, and they wonder why your kind is so rare. From their perspective, as an eternal seeker, they've met and mingled with so many people, and few have truly been so excitable, finding joy in small things and not being so afraid of the unknown and unexplored. Your aversion of uncertainty and change is healthy, not the kind that immediately loses its marbles and makes mere suggestions out to be a big and horrid deal that threatens to ruin the day. They really revel in the trust that you have in them, which in turn makes them choose to be deserving of that trust every day.
06.
Soapy scribbles: If you're not in the right head space to hear mentions of abuse and trauma, I encourage you to leave this reading for another time. Take good care of yourself, ok? ♡
This one is heavy. Your person has a difficult history with abuse and addiction. Their previous lovers have been unstable and caused them a lot of grief. You're the polar opposite of their previous entanglements, and they are in awe of the fact something so gentle could touch their heart. For a long time they may have blamed themselves and thought they deserved these bad memories. They're hard on themselves and have a lot of guilt and shame for their past mistakes, and may have taken their past abuse as punishment they deserved. Of course they are wrong, and you help them see this.
You allow them room to grow. You're patient where others have given up on them or turned to verbal or even physical harm against them when they haven't performed quite to the standards set upon them. They may genuinely be shaken by your genuine kindness towards them and wonder what they did right to find an end to their darkness.
I must honestly say that I view their previous partners very poorly. You couldn't be more different than what they have seen before you came into their life. The difference is like night and day. You do not keep them walking on eggshells and do not shift from peace to war at the drop of a hat. You're generous with your time and you're understanding of their scars. They need not hide their pain from you lest you would use it against them.
Your presence in their life rewires so many things that were previously all tangled up by others before you. They're able to safely work out their difficulties and face their fears with you by their side. They take your advice and apply it knowing that they can trust you. You may fear dependency, but really I'm seeing them growing whole within themselves by your influence and becoming stronger and more independent as a result of your connection. It's much akin to a phoenix rising from the ashes. Like you found faintly glowing embers in the dark, stuck around quietly watching, and got a fiercly loyal and protective beast for seemingly just being a good person.
They're inspired by your own resilience and strength. Many of you may have been through very dark nights and dying embers too, and your survival story helps motivate them to pursue happiness as something they, too, deserve, and will do anything to return this favour to you for the stability you provided them when they needed it the most.
#pac reading#energy reading#intuitive reading#pick a card reading#love pac#tarot reading#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a picture#love reading#tarotblr#cw abuse mention#soapy.post
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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“A weird Simp” — Geto Suguru
Synopsis: not much can be done when your crush doesn’t reciprocate your feelings—unless, he does, but then, what if he’s bad at projecting it out? Why, make him jealous ofc
— A/n: idk, it was rushed, it was sudden, it is what it is and you take what I give ya— @romiyaro please help. Satoru is a wingman here tho so!!
— word count: 1k
— warnings: nothing? Slight angst to fluff? Reader and satoru make Suguru jealous? Unestablished relationship; not proof read idk
You stared at him in the periphery— stoic, stagnant, unreachable at the moment.
It had taken a morning full of encouragement and planning, slow inhales and sharp exhales—55th rehearsal of the 43rd conversation that you had planned in your head—only to bump into him carelessly.
“Oh- S-Geto! Hey, sorry!” Eyes not even reaching up to meet his, you mindlessly pushed yourself away—ears burning so hot that his words were a quick blur.
“Geto…are you free this weekend?”
A pause slapped your face, hard—his laugh, on something Haibara said, came to a sudden pause.
“No,” the response was swift, as if not a single thought behind it—your heart ached.
A bite of your lower lip, “what is it?” haibara’s words snapped you out close, “just two tickets,” you mumbled, “to this concert but oh..”
the bite of you lip only got harder as he, Suguru, scoffed, maybe, you weren’t sure—“I’ll be busy with Satoru on the weekend so..”
��Yeah, it is fine.”
It wasn’t—Satoru had the third ticket—Satoru couldn’t have had plans with Suguru at all, it was anything but fine.
“I swear he hates me,” you mumbled, head hanging low in your hands—a grin Satoru let out, knowing all the better.
“No he doesn’t,” your back remained turned to all that was forward, facing Satoru as you continued your rant—hushed words that came out in a frenzy as you walked towards class.
“What would you know—have you seen how he looks at me? And the casual way he lies?” A ridiculous expression lay painted on your face.
And answer to that question, Satoru had—but he knew all so perfectly that not a single particle in you would believe Suguru himself if he ever told you just how many times, and the way he saw you.
“No he doesn’t,” another groan that you pertained—“but he does,” exaggerated your hand expressions, flying across as you talked to Satoru—the little frown was finally turning up to the smile he adored—and his smirk widening as his eyes caught the bigger picture.
For right behind you, walked Suguru head stuck into the iPod—the one you gifted him with much regard—and you walked towards him too, head stuck within thoughts of him.
“Bet he thought I was such an idiot for bumping into him this morning- I’ll tell how it happened—I was walking thinking about this one mission and then I just turned like this and- shit!”
And just like hours ago, that you’d bumped into Suguru Geto, once again, your body collided with his, both of your hands reaching out to massage the afflicted areas.
“Shit- Geto, I- I’m so sorry I-”
“It’s ok,” his words brushed you off, a side glance parted, an eye roll as his hands brushed off negligible dust off of himself.
Your face burned as he did so, another apology at the tip, ready to roll off when- “watch while you’re walking- don’t want you bumping into me like that,”
Satoru groaned at the last he didn’t mention, because he knew all so well that later that night, it would him who’d have you listen to Suguru’s rant about just how you’re perceptible to hurting yourself.
And the apology just vanished straight up—the spot taken by embarrassment all the more as Satoru’s giggle fell on your ears, the moment Suguru left.
“Guess ya fell for him huh?”
Satoru thought the joke was funny—but his smirk fell off all the same when your friend greeted him.
“Oh cmon, it’s alright-”
“It’s not,” a shake of your head—“does he actually despise me so much?”
Oh, but he didn’t, but oh, only Satoru would accept that.
“He’s an idiot y/n, and so are you,” and at his words, the frown only ever deepened.
“Don’t look like that,” his eyes scanned his watch—5 minutes till class—“C’mere I’ll teach ya a lil something,”
Very frankly, you were sure that Satoru’s plan would not work out—in fact, it was a total bummer if anything.
“Ignore Suguru,” he’d mumbled, after wasting all the five minutes he’d spared, bragging of how the perfect wingman would always be him.
Ignore Suguru—how does one ignore the person who’s already ignoring them?
The plan was stupid, however worse could your relation with Suguru get?
Right?
“You want lunch Toru?” Your words rang in his head.
“You want coffee Toru?” Your words swarmed his head.
“You want a break Toru?” Your words terrorised his head.
Seemingly you wanted nothing but Toru.
And it just so happened, Toru seemed to want you because everytime—with the biggest grin Satoru would nod and follow you out like a puppy, despite Suguru and his annoyed glances and the shake of his head.
A sharp sigh he let out, eyeing the two of you, it’s been two days since—two days that Suguru had held his silence.
“Toru, pass me the notebook please,” Suguru didn’t even bother looking down, he knew the notebook was closer to him—he wouldn’t bother.
A long hand reached out, swiping the notebook away from Suguru—and you—“how was the concert?” He finally asks, just for the sake of it, for the sake of something—it was fine, he supposed, if you wouldn’t talk, he would.
“It was fun.”
The response lay cold, unfinished but he knew that was all you had to offer—as you’d been offering for the past two days.
Suguru wasn’t sure to why he was so bothered, I mean, sure he was into you but life always gets in the way and that’s fine— but then, the fact also lay that life didn’t get in the way for you and Satoru being together, just with Suguru.
Just when you didn’t wish him a good time whenever you’d spot him anymore, or hold out a seat for him during snack breaks—offer him pieces either—life just got in the way when your smiles towards him fretted to none—but not when you hugged and shared your half of everything to Satoru instead.
He was being dramatic—but then he wanted you to notice him too.
The way you always do.
“How- uh, how was the, you know, encore or some shit?” It was cute, honestly, the slight shake in his voice—the glare at Satoru’s giggle and the way his eyes danced to find yours.
“It was cool, Satoru you want some frozen yogurt?”
And the white haired guy only nodded with a shit eating grin, “I’d uh- I’d like some too,” Suguru chimed the moment you stood up, he knew it was his chance.
“Congrats?” You added, biting back the smirk at his slightly shocked expression at your wording, but Suguru was deliberate, “yeah,” he mumbled, following you all the same.
Satoru watched quietly, watching the two of you walk away—“two days is all he lasts without her? Simp.”
The two of you stood in silence, watching the machine dispense the froyo—all too slow, the tension only ever thickened.
“So uh, you into gojo?”
Your eyes were wide—ears burning, “what?” An echo, Suguru let out at your expression—“I just…thought, it was a date that day wasn’t it?”
You stared at him, date?
The only date you wanted was with him, only to be rejected all so quick—“I also invited you though,” you mumbled quietly, he nodded—his mind just as relevant a mess.
“So…it wasn’t?”
“What’s it to you?”
Silence, not so awkward as always—“maybe because…well, I know it is weird but, maybe we could-”
“Are you nervous?” You wore the biggest smirk, you should’ve been better but oh boy, were you over the moon—and in the moment Suguru wanted nothing but to kiss that damn smirk away.
“Only around you,” he scoffed—“is that why you-”
“Yeah,” he bit his lips now—eyes nervously flitting onto yours, “I just…didn’t know how to…”
“Satoru calls you a weird simp for all of it.”
Needless to say, he did score that date with you.
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ahh yay !! okay sooo… vamp!Tomas x fem!reader where tomas and the reader both like each other but never really said anything because they are both shyyy but after tomas gets turned by nitara tomas becomes a lot more cockier and confident causing him to cockily confess his feelings !! (smut? 🤍)
ty lovely and ofc have a good day/night <3
I love this request! I have written far more for it than I initially thought I was going to, I got carried away and couldn’t stop writing. I hope you like it anon! Thank you for gracing my inbox <333 sorry it took me so long to fulfil this request. I wish you a lovely day/night and I hope this lives up to your expectations :)
Dearest
Wc: 6k
Pairing: Vamp!Tomas x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angsty for like a minute, thigh grinding, cunnilingus (over the panties 🤭), p in v sex, creampie, spanking (1), I think that is all :)
Harbouring an unrequited crush for a man that you would describe as one of your closest friends is one of the most difficult things you’ve had to do in your adult life, and you have not had an easy life. So, it feels a little bit ridiculous how trying this has been for you.
Tomas is someone you hold in high regard, his skills, his generosity, his kindness in spite of his losses, you could ramble on about him and all the reasons you like him forever. Unlucky for his brother Kuai Liang, that means you torture him with your seemingly endless growing affections.
“He brought me back my favourite–”
“–Yes, I know, I was there with him.” Kuai Liang sighs, this is the third time you’ve brought up Tomas in the last ten minutes.
Tomas had brought you back your favourite baked goods on his last trip into town, it made your chest feel full with how kind the action was. He remembered your favourite treat, and he went out of his way to get it. He thinks about you, even when you aren’t with him.
“I’m sorry Kuai, I’m just really happy.” You feel embarrassed about how much you’re gushing, but you can’t help it. There is no one else you can talk to about this, and you need to talk about it with someone.
“It’s fine, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he smiles apologetically at you, “but you know, you should just tell him how much you like him.”
“I can’t do that! What if he doesn’t like me back? And then I’ve ruined our friendship over my silly feelings.” There’s too much for you to lose if you confess to him.
Kuai Liang refrains from a deep eye roll, he’s about to say something but Tomas walks up to you both.
“Hey guys, what’s going on?” He’s just finished some training with Hanzo, he looks tired.
Kuai sits and says nothing, waiting for you to answer him, “We’re just hanging out, drinking tea.” You motion the teacup up at him to see.
He nods his head, smiling at you, “Got enough for me?”
Kuai pours him a cup before getting up, “I’ve got to go meet with Harumi, thanks for the tea.” He nods his head down at you and pats Tomas on the shoulder as he walks away.
“Thank you,” you tell him in reference to the gift he brought back.
He moves to sit down next to you on the bench, “No thanks necessary, I knew it was your favourite, and I was in the area.”
He lied just now, Kuai had told you that they would’ve been home an hour earlier, but he went out of his way to find your favourite bakery.
You take a sip of your tea, smiling into the cup and humming your reply to him.
You ask, “How did training go?”
“Well, Hanzo is improving fast, I am sure it won’t take him long to beat me in a fight,” he chuckles, his pride in Hanzo displayed in it.
“I am sure he could, though I am sure I could beat you in a fight too.” You’re teasing, you are capable but not on par with Tomas.
He smiles at you, “You probably would win but I think that’s because you would play dirty.”
“Absolutely,” he knows you too well, any way to win.
You both sit and drink tea while talking, until you run out of tea, and then you’re both just talking. It gets late quickly but you both never seem to run out of things to say, and even when you do, you’ll say anything just to be able to talk to him for a little bit longer.
“I should probably head to bed now, it’s getting late,” you tell Tomas, hours have passed since he sat down.
He looks into your eyes, like he has something pressing to tell you but eventually settles on saying, “Okay, thank you for tea.”
“Thank you for my treats,” you lean into his side, and he holds you there. Both engaged in a side hug.
“You are most welcome, dearest.”
The way he calls you dearest makes your heart rate spike; he makes you feel like you are genuinely dear to him, and it makes you giddy.
You move past it, “I will see you tomorrow?” you ask him, mouth muffled in his shirt.
He replies, “Yes but it might be late, Kuai and I both have to help Lui Kang with something.”
So vague with his missions, trying to shield you from the truth you suppose. You always end up asking Kuai about them anyways, and he tells you, so there isn’t really any point in keeping it from you. It’s sweet that he cares to try though.
“Be safe.” You tell him.
“Always.”
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
That was the last time you saw Tomas, he left for his mission and Kuai came back alone. It’s something that haunts you, you remember how distraught you were. You were told he was turned by Nitara, which means he’s out there somewhere, you just don’t know where. Don’t know what he’s doing. But your home feels empty and lifeless these days.
All you do is spend the days waiting for the next, an endless, mind-numbing cycle. Kuai and Harumi visit you often, checking in on you, making tea. They’re worried about you, you know that. But you’re worried about Tomas.
Lui Kang and Kuai Liang have been putting a copious amount of effort into finding Tomas, wanting to help him, but Tomas doesn’t want to be found. And he’s making it abundantly clear. Leaving a trail of half dead people, that have messages from him, telling them to stop looking.
This isn’t something you learnt from Kuai; you’ve heard the whispers in the village about it though. Kuai has now picked up Tomas’ old habit of not telling you the extent of things, but you can read between the lines. Tomas is moving closer to the Shirai Ryu’s village, for what reason you don’t know but you feel conflicted about it. You want to see him, but he is not Tomas anymore, not really. Not the man you…
…The bond between yourself and Tomas had always been unbreakable, at least you thought it had been. With the way things are now, you don’t know who will be standing in front of you, if you ever see him again.
Due to Tomas’ movements getting closer to the village people have been assigned to keep tabs on you. Kuai hasn’t said anything, but people roam outside your house now, frequently. All hours, they will stroll by, you think they aren’t meant to be noticed but when you live with ninja’s long enough, you start to notice them. You appreciate the consideration, but it’s not needed, even if he does show, you’ll handle it yourself.
There’s a knock on your door, three polite raps against the solid wood. Right on time, 3pm in the afternoon. Every day, you get visited by Kuai, sometimes with Harumi, sometimes with Hanzo, but more often than not, alone.
Sighing you move from your couch to the door and pull it open, “Afternoon, Kuai.”
You pull it open the whole way, allowing his large frame to move past you. He walks into the kitchen and starts boiling some water.
“Good afternoon,” he replies.
The afternoon with him carries out the same way it has for the past couple months, he talks to you, trying to get you to open up. You turn it on him and try to get him to talk, about how he’s feeling, about Tomas’ last sighting, his plans for if they find him. But just like yourself, he doesn’t disclose anything. So, you both end up drinking tea in silence, mention the weather and then part ways.
Some days he is more stubborn than others, he stays longer, pushing you harder, he’s feeling that way this afternoon.
“I know you must be upset and missing him; you can talk to me about him, it might help.” He presses you; he’d love to hear you talk about Tomas the way you used to.
It makes you sad to talk about him though, “I don’t have anything to say Kuai, you know that.”
“That is a little hard to believe,” there is humour in his voice, it pulls a small smile from you.
It is rather ironic, going from never being able to shut up about him, to never talking about him.
“I appreciate the concern, but I am fine,” you lie.
He knows and he looks at you, eyebrow raised, “You are not.”
“No… I’m not but neither are you.”
“I suppose not.” He sighs and takes a sip of his tea.
You think now is your time to mention, “Could you stop sending people to watch my house, it’s annoying and unnecessary.”
“I think it necessary,” he shoots back, but he caves a little, “I will send less and less frequently, but they will still watch out for you.”
You go to argue further, “I really don’t think it’s–”
“–I am not willing to compromise further on this matter.” He cuts you off.
“Fine.” You concede, too tired to argue with him. Always too tired.
He seems pleased with the progress he’s made with you though, finally getting you to budge the slightest bit. Admitting that you are not fine is enough for him today. He leaves with no argument, and you sit back on your couch, enjoying your solidarity.
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
You’re in the shower when you hear someone rummaging around your living room, annoying, you think to yourself. It’s probably someone checking on you, though it’s odd they’re inside your house.
Wrapping yourself in a towel, you move through the ensuite and into your bedroom. Locating the sword you keep hung on the wall, if it’s not someone checking up on you, you may need protection. You pull it down, keeping it sheathed. Slowly you move towards the living area where the noise is coming from.
You sneak through the house as quietly as possible and come up behind the intruder, hands on the sword, ready to unsheathe it and strike if necessary. But then you realise the silhouette of the intruder is very familiar.
He turns around and faces you, a faux shocked look on his face, pretending to be frightened by you holding a sword.
Your voice comes out far more timid than you would’ve liked, “Tomas?”
“Ah, you caught me.” He holds his arms up in surrender, sly grin plastered on his face.
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, I came to visit you, dearest.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing, as if he’s questioning you questioning his presence.
Your eyes squint at him, “Don’t call me that.”
“You never use to mind it,” his face twists into a fake sad expression.
You’re still in an attack stance, “That was then, I don’t know who you are now.”
“Please put the sword down, it really isn’t frightening, especially since you’re in nothing but a towel.” His eyes look you up and down, appreciating your scantily clad body in a fluffy towel.
Your lip pulls up into a grimace, “Don’t look at me, turn around.”
He waves a hand at you dismissively, “Chill out, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Why are you here?” You’re quick to reply.
His presence is genuinely confusing, he didn’t want to be found by his own brother, but he came back here to break into your house and look at your living room furnishings?
“Like I said, I’m here to see you, I’ve missed you dearly… dearest.” He flashes you a cheeky smile.
He’s different, not right, not… himself. It’s uncanny and off putting to you. He is not the same kind man you called your best friend.
“I don’t believe you.”
His smile drops, “I know, but I’m not lying.”
He moves towards you, but you take a step back, hand pulling on the handle of the sword, ready to unsheathe it. He stops at your reaction; and rolls his eyes dramatically.
“I really am not going to hurt you, I wanted to give you that,” his head motions towards your side table, your favourite baked goods sitting atop it.
Your eyes round in shock, why would he go to the effort? You stop your thoughts before they get too hopeful, he could be trying to lure you into a false sense of security, and it might work. He looks mostly the same, not quite right but his likeness is there. He’s pale, bloody, an odd marking on his forehead, and fangs you can spot when he speaks, but the same.
It’s confusing you; you want to be happy to see him, but you don’t want to let yourself feel it if he isn’t quite right. If he’s going to hurt you or worse. You are happy he’s alive though, there might be a way to help him.
“Why did you bring me that?” You ask, also motioning towards the treats on the table.
“Because they’re you’re favourite,” he shrugs, “can you please put the sword down, this is getting a bit ridiculous.”
You have a baffled look on you face, “You’re the one breaking and entering??”
“Hey! I didn’t break anything.” He looks offended, hand on his chest. He sighs and rolls his eyes again, “I don’t know what to offer you here to make you feel better, dear.”
“I don’t really know either.” You consider what would make you feel better about him, other than him leaving. “Getting dressed… would make me feel better.”
“I don’t mind if you don’t.” He’s flirting with you, brazenly.
“Stay here… or leave… but don’t follow me.”
He has a bored look on his face, but he shrugs in agreeance.
At his reaction you begin backing away slowly, watching him as you leave the room. He tilts his head curiously at you as you do. When you can no longer see him, you shuffle quickly to your room.
You rustle through drawers to find clothes, settling on pants and a t-shirt. Something you can move around in if you end up having to defend yourself. You pick up your sword and exit your bedroom.
As you come back into the living area you see him sitting on an armchair in the corner, the one facing your larger couch. You move around the furniture to sit on said couch facing him. Your posture a stark contrast to his, you’re sitting up straight and alert. While he is lounging, legs spread wide, spine reclined against the back of the armchair. He’s fully relaxed and you’re… not.
“Still have the sword I see,” he notes.
Your grip tightens on the hilt, “I am not ready to trust you.”
“No, I wouldn’t think you would be.” His head rolls to the side quickly, listening, “are you expecting guests?”
You know what he’s hearing, your friendly watchers must be coming by to check on you.
“Kuai Liang started assigning people to come by my house, I didn’t understand why previously, I do now.” You reply casually with a wave of your hand.
“Mmm, he is taking care of you?” His question seems loaded, like he might be simultaneously pleased and displeased at the same time, no matter your response.
“Yes, he comes by regularly to check on me, he is worried.” You answer honestly, based on his hearing he’d probably be able to tell if you lied to him.
His eyes squint slightly, his reaction telling you nothing about his thoughts or feelings, “You going to alert them of my presence?”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
He seems a little confused, “Why not?”
“I’m not getting any information from Kuai anymore, he tells me nothing. If I let them take you, I doubt I’ll be updated of anything.”
“Very serious like this, you used to be much kinder to me.”
Your eyebrows raise at him, “I could say the same to you.”
“Fair enough,” he smiles at you, still eyeing you even though you are nowhere near as undressed as earlier.
“Stop it,” you tell him.
His gaze climbs up your body and then back onto your eyes, “Stop what?”
“Stop that,” your hand waves in circles around his face, referencing the way he’s been looking at you.
His head leans to the side, “Why?”
Your eyebrows pinch together, “Because I don’t know what it means.”
“I like you, is what it means.” His smile is as sweet as he can muster, it’d be sweeter if he didn’t have fangs.
Huh? Huh? What the hell? He likes you, is that possible? You must have the most bewildered expression on your face because he begins chuckling at you.
“Don’t laugh!” You’re frowning at him now.
“Sorry, sorry…” He waves his hand at you, “I didn’t think you’d look so confused, you’ve just made a very cute face.”
You sigh deeply, he’s making your heart rate pick up, you need to control it, “I don’t believe you.” You say in reference to his declaration.
“Yeah, you keep saying that, but it’s the truth. I came back to see you because I miss you and I miss you because I like you. I always have.” His confession is making you feel flushed. He’s saying things you would’ve liked to have heard ages ago.
“Why? Why tell me this now?”
“Was too scared to tell you before, now it doesn’t matter as much, our friendship isn’t exactly in a great place, no?” He gestures to his whole being with his hands, as if to demonstrate the reason for that.
“I don’t see myself trusting you, I hope you know that.” Honestly, mutual trust isn’t something you can foresee in both your futures.
But that’s obviously the opposite for Tomas, “I am pretty confident that I can change your mind, I got your heart rate to rise earlier. My confession bring up some hidden feelings?”
You’re interested, “How do you plan on changing my mind?” You ignore the second part of his sentence.
“I will come by as often as I have to, for as long as I have to, until you trust me again.” He seems earnest at least, but you don’t know if you have rose tinted glasses on when it comes to him.
“Do as you please, I have a feeling you’re going to anyways.” You huff at him, spine becoming less rigid.
He smiles at you, eyes bright, “I appreciate the permission, anyhow.”
His visit ends quickly after that last conversation, having made headway with you made him pleased enough to leave. He did promise he would be back the next night, and the night after that, and so on, and so forth. The promise thrills you, much to your contention.
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
Tomas stayed true to his promise, he comes by, every night without fail and has been doing so for the last few months. He never stopped flirting with you the whole time, making his affection for you perfectly clear. There are only so many ways you can brush him off and change topics though.
He sniffs the air, “I hate how much Kuai comes around, always smells like him in here, ruins your scent.”
Your eyes roll at him, “Well, he’s about as stubborn as you are about visiting. Must run in the family.”
You stopped holding your sword every time he came round about a month into his visits, believing he probably wasn’t going to bodily harm you. It was never far from you though, now it stays in the lounge, not close but not far. He has succeeded in slowly building some trust between the two of you.
In the kitchen you’re waiting for the kettle to boil, Tomas comes up behind you. Leaning down he inhales your scent, not so close to touch but close enough to have your heart pounding in your chest.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
“Smelling you.”
“Yeah, I can see that, why are you sniffing me?”
“You smell nice,” he’s still standing close to you, chest brushing your back.
You turn around and place a palm on his chest, aiming to push him back but he doesn’t budge. His hand comes up and he places it over top of your own. His eyes looking intently into yours, as you’re looking up at him, you’re struck with the realisation that your feelings for him haven’t left you. He’s changed and so have your feelings, but you still like him.
His eyes flit down to your lips, he begins moving in closer to you. Giving you ample time to pull away if you don’t want him to kiss you. You don’t know if kissing him is a good idea, but it doesn’t matter anyways, the kettle starts squealing, alerting you of its boiled status.
His hand lets go of yours, the moment ruined. You turn quickly, feeling like your face is on fire. Happy to be able to hide your face from him, though you know he can definitely hear your beating heart working overtime.
You take the kettle off the stove and make a cup of tea for both you and Tomas, he never drinks it, but he asks for it every time and holds it for the entirety of his visit.
Later, after tea, as you’re washing up Tomas stands beside you. Ever since your guard dropped enough to let him get this close to you, he stays as close as you’ll allow. Always right by you, flirting, joking, watching.
“Do you want me to wash up?” He offers.
“No, thank you.” You continue, scrubbing at your dishware.
When you’re done you go to wipe your hands off, drying them. Tomas grabs you and spins you abruptly, a shocked gasp pulling from you at his speed and strength.
“I like you.” Is all he says.
Your eyes are wide with shock, “You’ve already said so.”
“I just had to tell you again, so you know.”
“You tell me every day, and you relentlessly flirt with me,” you remind him.
“Just checking you haven’t forgotten.”
“You don’t make that possible,” you raise a brow at him.
“That’s the idea,” he smiles cheekily at you.
His eyes dip to your lips again, the moment from earlier being recreated. You turn your head to the side, feeling shy under his watchful gaze.
“Your heart is racing,” he comments, moving his hand to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.
“I know, it is my heart.” You feel flush in the face.
He leans a bit closer, “And how does your heart feel about me?”
Ah, he’s fishing today. He has been very patient, not asking you your feelings towards him but he is curious. Especially since he can tell you enjoy his advances, or at least react to them viscerally.
“I reserve the right to not answer that.” You feel as though you’re being interrogated.
He finds your answer entertaining, “I think… you like me too, but you’re still not convinced you can trust me.”
Yep, he’s pretty much hit the nail on the head, and he knows it. You go to answer him, try to cover for yourself but he’s quicker with his words.
Tone growing glib, he taunts, “Mmm, yeah, that was dead on, huh?”
His large hand come up and pulls your face back to his, holding you by your chin, between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts your face up, looking you directly in the eyes.
“Look at me and tell me, that you don’t like me.”
“I don’t like you,” you reply simply.
He scoffs, “Liar, I’ve grown on you.”
“Like a tumour, maybe,” you retort back.
He has a small smile on his face, “Now who is being stubborn?”
“Somehow, still you.” Your expression is one of defiance.
He rolls his eyes at you and groans, before grabbing your head on either side and pulling you into a kiss. It’s full and profound, and as he moves his head to the side, he licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss. A shocked mewl coming from you, one that he swallows down greedily.
Your heart feels like it might explode in your chest, and as he pulls away, he makes a note of it.
His forehead rests against yours, smiling cockily he asks, “Still don’t like me?”
“No,” you shake your head against him.
He captures your lips in another lustful kiss, devouring you whole, consuming the noises that escape you. Common sense eludes you, his kisses making you dizzy and unable to think properly. He walks you back into the corner of the kitchen bench, still cradling your face. Your hands coming up behind you, resting on the bench top. As a result, your chest presses further into him.
One of his knees slots between your legs, pinning you to the spot. His kisses take your breath away and you have to pull back to breathe. Huffing slightly at his insistent manner of kissing.
“Seems to me, that you like me.” He states.
“You’re mistaken.” You retort.
His head moves to your neck, inhaling the length of it, “it smells like you like me.”
Low blow on his behalf, his observation of your growing arousal for him makes your skin set alight. An embarrassing observation for him to make and he knows it. His thigh slots higher, resting up against your cunt. The contact makes you jump lightly, your teeth biting your lip to stifle your audible reaction.
His hands move to your hips as he leans down and kisses you again. His lips serving as a distraction so he can use the grip he has on your hips to encourage you to grind down on his thigh. You get lost in the feeling, the stimulation sending jolts of pleasure up your spine, the sounds you make spilling from you freely.
He rips his mouth away from you suddenly, before you can complain he pulls your pants down, you step out of them. Standing in front of him in nothing but your shirt and panties. He drops to his knees in front of you, pulling your thighs apart, just enough so his face can fit between your legs. His nose resting up against your pussy over your panties, he inhales deeply.
You gasp out at him, “Tomas!”
“Mmmsorry, you smell so fucken good.” He speaks against your cunt, muffling his words.
This display is mortifying to you and also serving to fuel your arousal. He hums pleasantly at your reaction. His mouth opens, sucking over your underwear, wetting them further. His thumbs pull your pussy lips apart, giving himself more access to your arousal. He’s lapping at your hole over your underwear, nose rubbing up against your clit as he licks at you.
You’re squirming above him, gasping for air at the pleasure he’s giving you. He grows more fervent against you, your cunt leaking from the pleasure. The smell and taste of you sending him into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop making out with your cunt over your underwear. Your legs are borderline shaking with your building orgasm.
“Tomas – ngh,” you’re trying to warn him of your impending orgasm.
One of your hands reaches for his hair, grabbing on, your hips beginning to faintly grind against his face. He doesn’t pull away to acknowledge your words, just continues slurping at your cunt, humming at you in confirmation.
The noises spilling from you reach a higher pitch, coming closer together. Your eyes are wet as they close tight against the intensity of your orgasm. When you cum it’s with a bite of his name followed by a large inhale of breath. Legs shaking, if he had not been gripping your thighs, you would’ve fallen to the floor in front of him.
He doesn’t stop as you cum, or even after, continuing to lick at you enthusiastically, aftershocks running through your veins. You twitch at the continued stimulation he provides. He growls against you, an inhuman sound that spikes your heart rate, and your excitement.
The sight of him between your legs, gripping your thighs open and feasting on your wet cunt could have you passing out. He huffs frustrated against you, and he rips your underwear off, actually tearing them off your body. You can’t even complain because he’s put his mouth back on your bare cunt. Drinking up all of the slick and cum from your cunt, he’s licking you clean, you might actually faint.
Tugging at his hair harsher, you push him back, “mm sensitive, stop.” You gasp out at him, words slurred together slightly.
Thankfully, he pulls away but stays on his knees, watching you quiver in front of him. His mouth finished eating you, but his eyes haven’t. He inhales one last time before standing up in front of you.
Cocky smile plastered on his face, “Divine, let me continue?”
You shake your head at him, “No, I will actually faint.”
He preens at that, delighted by your answer, “Are you ready to admit you like me?”
“No,” stubborn for no reason at this point. It’s clear to the both of you, you definitely like him.
He chuckles dryly at you, and then he’s spinning you around and pushing your upper half against the bench top. His hands run over your body, down your back and over your ass cheeks, he pulls them back to stare at your cunt, he whistles at the sight of it. And you struggle against him, humiliated by his actions.
“Will you let me fuck your tight pussy?”
You feel red and raw, his direct question mortifying you, mortifying you because, “yes.” You will let him.
He lets out an amused sound that turns into a growl at the sight of you bent over and waiting for him. Rustling can be heard from behind you as he pulls out his cock. He runs it through your folds, using your cunts prior orgasm to lube it. You rock back against him, rutting down on his dick. It sends shudders down your spine, the pleasure already plenty and he’s not inside you.
“Hold still,” he holds his hand on your back firmly, keeping you in place.
His other hand on his cock, running his tip through your folds before notching it at your hole. Slowly splitting you in two.
All he lets out is, “fffff–”
You clench at the stretch, clamping down on his cock.
“–UCK!” He lets out at your tightening pussy, “gotta relax, or I’ll never – nghf – make it inside.”
You’re mewling and barely the tip is inside you, his hand reaches down and around to rub at your clit, trying to get you to relax.
“Thasss it, dear, fucken perfect… jus. like. that,” he sighs as you relax a bit.
He’s able to have his whole tip enter you, and then he starts rocking back and forth slowly, trying to fuck you open on the tip of his dick. Your legs already shaking and he’s not even close to halfway inside you.
He begins fucking his cock into you more, incrementally, it has pleasure wracking your body. Taking his time, rocking in and then out, slightly more in and then out, rinse and repeat. Until he’s finally fully seated inside you. The full feeling overwhelming you, you grind back against him, wanting more of the feeling.
“Tomas–”
“Hold still, and if it’s – hah – too much, tap me, okay?” He asks.
You nod your head at him, but he slaps your ass and says, “Words, dearest.”
“I will tap you if it’s too much – jus please – mmmmove.” You’re wiggling back against him, trying to gain some friction.
Both his hands pull your ass cheeks apart again, gazing down at the way you’re wrapped around him. A deep growl coming from inside his chest at the sight. Pulling back almost all the way out, he slams back into you, jolting your body forward against the counter. You have a feeling you’re going to have all kinds of bruises tomorrow morning.
He’s fucking you in earnest, roughly, inhuman and pleased noises coming from him. A wet slapping filling your kitchen along with your mewls and whines. You brace yourself on the counter and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.
His hand moves up your body and grabs at the back of your neck, he pulls you up, holding you flush against his chest. Your head resting back against his shoulder. He’s fucking up into you, the change in position sliding you further down his dick.
The hand that pulled you up goes to the front of your neck, applying no pressure but holding you steady. His free arm moves from your hip to the front of your body, holding you against him, hand groping at your tit. His fingers pinch and play with your nipple, your cunt squeezing down on him at the sensation.
“Tell me, do you like mmme – ngh – now?” He whispers it against your ear, lips brushing the shell of it. It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps breaking out across your skin.
“Mmmmaybe – mmph – a little…” You confess.
He laughs and licks your ear, his thrusts never stopping or slowing. Your cunt starts to rhythmically pulse around his cock, you’re so close to cumming on just his cock, a sensation you’ve not felt before. Previously always cumming with the help of stimulation on your clit.
He taunts you, “Go on, cream all over – mmph – me, can feel you squeezing mmme.”
“Hah – Mm gonna–” You’re cumming, hard, on his dick. Your release creating a white ring around the base of his cock.
His hands move to push you back against the bench top again, he needs to see the way you came all over him. He spreads your cheeks again to watch himself fuck you, to see the way you creamed all over him. Mesmerised by your cunt and the way it takes him; he’s chasing his own high now.
He’s fucking you harshly, aiming to topple headfirst into his own pleasure. You clamp down on him, pulling his own orgasm from him suddenly. He cums with a shout of your name and a string of profanities. Filling your cunt to the brim with his release, he continues thrusting, stuffing all his cum back into your pussy. He groans at the sight, dick twitching inside you.
He pulls out of you slowly; he tugs his pants back on before spinning you around and placing you up on the bench. He wets some napkins from your kitchen with warm water and gently wipes your thighs clean.
His fingers push some of the cum leaking out of your cunt back inside, “Keep that there.” He tells you.
You hold your hand over your pussy, as he runs down the hall and comes back with a fresh pair of underwear. He slides them up your legs and uses them to help keep his cum inside you. Your legs are shaking from the come down, eyes wet and dazed. You’d let him do almost anything to you right now, with the way he’s given you the two best orgasms of your life, you think he might’ve earned it.
You watch him move around your kitchen, he finds your previous pair of underwear and stuffs them inside his pocket. He looks back at you and smiles deviously. Then he moves to get you a glass of water.
He presents it to you, “Drink.”
You accept it gratefully, feeling parched, you drink it all. It dribbles down your chin with how you gulp it down. He smiles at you and wipes your chin clean.
“I don’t think I can walk,” you tell him.
He’s smug, “Need me to carry you to bed, dearest?”
“If you’d be so kind.”
He obliges and carries you to bed, tucking you in. He won’t stay and he shouldn’t stay, though you find yourself hoping he would.
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” he says, practically reading your mind. He crawls into bed beside you, on top of the covers.
“Thank you, Tomas.”
He smiles kindly at you, “No thanks necessary.”
You fall asleep quickly that night. Fully trusting him and even feeling safe with him beside you. When you wake the next morning, he is gone but he’s left a note.
It reads, “I’ll be back tonight, dearest.”
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
A/N: This is not my best writing, but I find myself a bit fond of it, maybe because it’s a different character, a bit of a change up is nice. I did write almost an extra 3k than what I initially planned lmao. I find the need to add more plot in my stories. Anyways, thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed, my requests are open if you want a story like this one or if you want to share any thoughts, feelings, anything really, I am open for asks!! <333
#ask vision#tomas x reader#tomas vrbada#tomas x reader smut#tomas vrbada x reader smut#smoke x reader#smoke x reader smut#fanfic#tomas x you#mk1 smut#smut#mk1 2023
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hi! will you write an aegon x reader imagine in which they are married out of love. and after she gives birth, alicent (or otto idk) requests to see her child like she did to rhaenyra. like what would aegon do to see his wife in pain and how would he react? thank you!
Ugh, I live for this type of angst!!! I reckon Aegon would be so fucking pisssssed. How dare they try to get you to lift a finger, let alone stand after birthing his child!!!! sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy xx
Our Child.
PAIRING: Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader
WORDS: 1,948.
WARNINGS: swearing, fluff, angst, Dad!Aegon, mentions of pregnancy/birth, mentions of bullying.
A/N - I apologise for getting carried away with the beginning lmao, but I felt the need to lay some background, so don't mind me. hope you enjoy!
Within this realm, gossip and scepticism was not unfamiliar territory. Especially regarding the livelihood and innocence of maidens such as yourself, whispers were constant, back and forth, the ongoing judgement would never be silenced although, you'd grown ignorant to. It did not matter, many accused you of being a whore, many expressed their disgust over hearing your so-called promiscuous nature, and many had ridiculed your poor upbringing.
"Surely, she's bedded men before, and the Prince seems to not mind? I heard she was betrothed to a farmer in the North, although ran away."
"Aegon is no saint either... Although he is a man, and men have needs."
"What would the Prince want with someone of her kind? She has nothing to offer, not even a dowry, and he is to be King."
The scrutiny was constant, and Aegon knew at times, no matter how well you masked it, that the words stung. He knew your story, having allowed him and granting him the time to really get to know you, Aegon had pestered you for so long, he listened and knew your truth.
The rest were all lies, deceit and gossip, for many lords had intended for their own daughters to wed the King to be.
"The realm have already made up their minds, Aegon, I stand no chance against them."
Aegon did not care. He loved you undeniably, and whatever he saw in you, made him a better man.
"They can answer to me, I'd like to hear their judgement directly."
It was true, no one dared to question Aegon's intentions with you, not at least in front of him. First off, he had a dragon. Secondly, a terribly, quick temper, the notorious Targaryen temper... The two fused well together depending on who asked.
Overtime, just as you always had, the scrutiny of the high class and council did not matter to you, for it was the least of your concerns.
Although, it bothered you greatly that his mother, Queen Alicent, had tuned into such gossip and determined herself that you unworthy.
She did not completely ignore your presence in the castle, although she was cold. She never warmed unto you like she did with other high-borne ladies, nor did she give you the chance to speak or tell your truth. Her mind was made.
Alicent was certain that you had other intentions with her son, that you'd wanted riches, gold, money, anything to help redeem your family's status in society. She assumed that you would use the Crown in all its glory, all through Aegon.
"I see you as you are, Y/N. Aegon may think with his cock when it comes to you, although I see right through you," Her words cut sharp as Valyrian blade, left you defeated and speechless.
Aegon knew of this, for he could tell how quickly your mood had shifted. He knew of his mother's sour attitude towards you, for she'd plead with him many times to let you go, even proposing the idea of offering you money in return that you leave King's Landing for good.
In despite of the adversity, Aegon held his ground, for one of the first times in his life. He remained with you, by your side relentlessly, and defended your honour. He often returned to your chambers tiresome of the repetitive quarrelling with his mother about you, and yet he did not intend to stop, until she'd accepted you. In time, he had asked for your hand, wedding you in a private ceremony, upholding his Valyrian heritage, and not before long, you were with child, Aegon's child and his rightful heir.
****
The birthing was difficult to say the least, going on for a fair few hours in the night, right until sunlight could be seen in the horizon. The instant cry of your newborn babe filled the room, and much to your relief, caused you to beam with a smile on your face, as you embraced the small bub in your arms.
"A boy, your Grace. Kicking like a goat," The experienced midwife exclaimed, as she tended to the sweat dripping on your face, and the blood marked on your cheeks, from kissing the babe, trying to make you somewhat decent if Aegon was to return.
Aegon although, desperate to be with you, was caught in a council meeting. Much to his dismay, his abrupt marriage to you left many lords in uproar as his family had promised them the opportunities for their daughters to meet the young Prince, determined to see if he'd take a liking to one of the them. Many now furious at the Crown, refusing to pay taxes and levies.
As you cradled the baby in your arms, enamoured by the bundle of joy, little shrouds of hair on his head, parallel to his father's Targaryen heritage, his nose even a copy of Aegon's. It was his little twin. Trying to take your son's presence all in, was suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on the door, jolting your attention towards the entrance. Your heart raced with excitement, as you'd relished in the image of Aegon rushing through to your bedside, meeting his newborn son for the first moment ever.
Much to your disappointment it was a knight, although, one that you'd grown familiar to seeing in the Queen's company.
"Apologies to bother you, your Grace. Although, Queen Alicent wishes to see you and the babe at this very moment."
A puzzled look drenched your face, as you scanned the faces of the midwives and maester present during your birth, each of them sharing a discerning look, some quickly looking to their shuffling feet, trying to seem busy.
"Right now?" You stuttered, holding your newborn tightly instinctively.
The knight merely nodded, as though hesitant to giving such orders considering the ordeal you'd endured just mere minutes ago.
Now you'd grown annoyed, you gestured for one of the midwives to hold your dear son, who continued to wail as he left your arms, whilst the others helped you to your feet, blood drenched clothes, pooling down your legs as you gained steadiness.
You couldn't stand by yourself, your head whirling and your belly and thighs aching in a dull pain, sudden movements and long strides caused sharp pains to bellow your lower back and hips, cramping your muscles. It was pain you'd never felt like before.
The maester attempted to convince you of taking milk of the poppy for the walk, although short, would be tormenting with the stairs you had to conquer.
Although, milk of the poppy made you feel weaker, less conscious. You did not want to wish dropping the babe in your arms, nor be less alert for Alicent.
The midwives carefully donned you in a clean, silk gown, attempting to make you as decent and proper as possible, for people began to bustle through the castle now. Hearing their conversations and steps outside the door, for it was morning and you'd grown familiar to its routine.
"Y/N dearest, perhaps we can send a message to the Queen that your condition does not allow for you to travel currently-" The maester pitied.
"No, it is fine. If this is what the Queen wants, this is what she shall get."
The midwife that had held your son, returned him to your arms, as the knight helped to guide you out, holding out his armoured arm as you gripped it tightly for support. Thankfully, he did not rush you, for he could see how slow and careful you were taking your steps.
Some lords and ladies passing by would congratulate you, whilst others remained ignorant to your presence, and some in pure shock that you were travelling in such a state.
Their whispers again, filled the morning air, although before reaching the steps, you'd taken a glance at your newborn son, snug in his blankets. Again, the same, warm smile gleamed on your face as you watched him, before a sharp pain pierced through your lower abdomen. Your grip on the knight tensed and he knew immediately, questioning if you wished to turn back.
"No-No, let's just fucking go."
As you took the first, agonising step up, a familiar voice yelled out your name. Slowly turning back, your body straining, resisting all the physical movement, you could see Aegon down the other side of the corridor, rushing past as he reached your side.
"What's the meaning of this, where are you going in such a state?"
He kept his focus on you, oblivious to the babe in your arms, as one hand massaged your back, whilst the other held your arm for support, as you began to cower in pain.
"Ughh-Y-Your mother, wanted t-to see the babe, now."
You stuttered, your voice trembling as the pain worsened the more you remained on your feet, becoming breathless by the second.
As you mentioned the babe, Aegon looked down, his eyes meeting his newborn son, a cherished look on his face appeared for a split second, before he realised the situation. His eyes darted towards the knight and commanded that he tell his mother, "That would not be wise, if she so wishes to see the babe, she can come down herself."
You reassured the knight that you were fine, as Aegon took his place by your side, turning you back around to your chambers, the midwives still present as they remained cleaning the bloody scene, were relieved to see you return. They all helped you back down cautiously, propping pillows behind your back for support, even preparing a small cup of milk of the poppy, now that you were rested in bed.
"What were you thinking Y/N? Don't you ever think that you need to prove yourself like that, my mother can answer to me."
"I-I don't know, Aegon. She is the Queen, a-and I thought... I am sorry husband."
Aegon had been pacing himself up and down the room, as the midwives left to give you both peace and privacy, shaking and rubbing his head. Out of fury, he slammed his fist against the wooden post of the bed railing, before calming himself. Seating himself down by your side, as he ran his fingers through his short, tussled platinum hair. A low sigh escaping his mouth, as he exchanged a worried look on his face, your hand reaching over to hold his reddened knuckles, as your thumb grazed the small, fresh cut.
"You-You my dearest, need not to apologise, you did nothing wrong. I just cannot fathom how my mother think it okay to torment you like that."
"I-I do not know, Aegon. But rest assured, our son is happy and healthy, come-"
You pulled his fingers, beckoning to come closer, as you pulled down the cover on your son's little face, despite all the mayhem that ensued following his birth, he remained quiet and slept. Unphased by the drama of his presence, he was your calm before the storm.
"He's beautiful isn't he? Our child." You softly whisper, as you looked up from the babe to Aegon, and back down again, gently cradling him in your arms.
Aegon's arm wrapped beneath yours, as his free hand, a finger gently grazed over his son's nose, dotting it. Helplessly, a smile beamed up on his face, as his son cooed against his father's touch.
"As angelic as his mother is." He uttered, before resting his head against your shoulder.
"She will be dealt with, Y/N. Rest assured, I will speak with her and it will be the last time we speak of this matter again. She did not deem me fit to be King before, she will now."
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The villainization of Bad is perplexing to me for a lot of reasons. Fandom wanting him to pay for his actions when he didn’t even have the highest kill rate in purgatory on his team… Bad and Tubbo had the same amount of kills day 1. Bad was probably killed more by red team then he killed yet still its not enough for the red fandom.
also regarding Dapper. ‘Bad’s actions made it so no one would help dapper’…. Bad would never hold a parents actions against a child. Leo actively helped Vegetta and Roier place bombs all over Bad and Dappers farm house causing them to move. And even when they moved Bad still included Leo on the allow list. He loves Leo. Dapper really admired Vegetta and wanted to speak with him but was struck by him for teasing Foolish.
Bad teases and tricks and lies about unimportant things, steals furniture and he has trust issues yes, but he also counter balances that by providing others with lavish gifts and items and knowledge that takes hours to do. He repairs broken machines the kids have done for there parents, he takes care of the kids so no one dies of neglect, he keeps people company, he’s provided so much countless food and armor and exp to everyone at such volume its absurd to count. He made spawn so that it would be easy for others to get around when they died and constantly refills the xp.
He’s rp an actual demon but genuinely most of Bad’s actions while surface level inconvenient in depth he’s ridiculously generous and kind. The only time of him ‘cutting loose’ being in a game that was designed for killing and his son instructed him too. So many in the fandom gave weight to Chayanne’s message but for Dapper it was :eyeroll: whatever. Dapper who had been self harming themselves to help aid his siblings and other islanders was instructing Bad to run over other islanders, he wouldn’t say that unless it was important.
I can understand not liking a character theirs plenty I dont personally find my cup of tea but that doesnt make them evil. Its so strange to me that the fandom finds Bbh to be ‘the worst’ narratively, when Slime actively tried to murder Dapper and the other kids, Cellbit has gone full serial killer, Vegetta nearly killed Bobby with bombs, Forever lashed out in anger at Leo yet Bad stealing furniture that can be replaced by sticks and wool is the absolute dread of the server. Bad in a killing game was mean when others were mean and one of the few members of his team that could protect his team.
it’s interesting because for the most part Bad’s crimes are psychological (not to say its not a torment) but it’s interesting because it seems to be labeled so much worse then physical actions other characters have made. Bad doesn’t let others actions get to him he forgives and picks himself up and tries again maybe more guarded this time but he doesnt complain about others actions he always blames himself and carries on. Bad doesnt excuse himself he knows that his actions can cause distress from others and still does them without regret but he also understands others wont like him for his actions and fully accepts and expects it.
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OKAY SO IT’S FINALLY TIME FOR THAT IN-DEPTH JOMIES DYNAMICS ANALYSIS!!
(Aka: My own interpretations of their relationships based on the canon interactions in the show. Warning this is going to be a long one.)
Jake and Drew: Messy. Oh so very messy. It’s obvious these two care about each other, but they possibly have the worst way of communicating. Neither of them understand each other because the way they communicate does not at all reach the other. There’s a lot of examples of this in the show, one being the infamous laptop scene from Episode 6 that’s already had so many wonderful analyses done on it before, so I’ll keep mine brief:
Drew’s love language is obviously gift-giving. He gives expensive gifts to his friends as a show of his love. He gave Jake a laptop so they can play games together, and Jake nearly gave it away almost on a whim. Metaphorically, he nearly gave away a symbol of Drew’s affections. Carelessly.
We know Jake became friends with Drew partially because he didn’t want to be bullied again. Drew was a bully, and he could protect Jake from other bullies. So I believe to an extent, Jake never lost that image of him. Sure, he grew to care about Drew, but in the back of his mind, Drew was always a bully. Someone to be feared. And I think this view is probably what prevented him from ever trying to understand him.
And Jake was terrified of getting on his bad side. So, he did what he does best: he lied. He lied about himself, kept his embarrassing interests hidden. He probably didn’t open up much to Drew in fear of being ridiculed or rejected. Therefore, not allowing Drew to understand him, either.
Now, we don’t know exactly how Drew feels regarding Jake, but we know he’s very attached to him. It’s very clearly shown to us in scenes where Jake interacts with anyone outside their little group. He’s always sliding his arm around Jake’s shoulders whenever Hailey’s around. And when Jake isn’t around, Drew’s usually looking for him, only ever glancing up from his phone to see if Jake’s around and only putting it away when Jake shows up. (I’m not just talking about the Spin-Off, he does this in Episodes 9 and 10 too.)
Drew is a very blunt person. And his actions are very telling of his intentions: Jake is mine, and Jake is off-limits. And ironically, the only person who doesn’t seem to get the memo is Jake himself, who remains obliviously indifferent. Anyways, all this to say that Drew’s method of keeping Jake close is being blunt and possessive. Whereas Jake’s method is to hide who he is. He’s very subtle with how he expresses his desires. Sugar-coats his words so the truth becomes somewhat obscure.
They’re complete opposites when it comes to communication. And because of this, it leads to this little tightrope game the two of them play. Both don’t want to lose each other. But the actions they take to avoid that ultimately lead to them falling to their demise. Drew grows possessive, Jake gets nervous, Jake lies, and Drew grows confused and frustrated, leading to him growing more possessive, and the cycle continues.
Until it eventually reaches its breaking point in Episode 10, which honestly highlights how deeply these two do not understand each other. Jake directly says to Drew: “I know deep down you knew I wasn’t doing this just because of her!” To which Drew (understandably) gets confused and defensive. Because Jake never once mentioned this to him. And Jake just somehow expects him to know this, but obviously Drew doesn’t, because Drew probably relies on blunt communication. He doesn’t understand the subtle glances and occasional frowns Jake gives. So it doesn’t reach him.
Meanwhile, Drew tries to tell Jake the truth about the Music Club (or what he viewed as the truth, because the actual truth Jake kept hidden) and he does this thinking he’s protect Jake from being used. He’s blunt, he’s straight to the point. He tells Jake that the clubs using him, and that the club is bad. Because that’s what he perceives as the truth. Whereas to Jake, this only comes across as being toxic and possessive. This blunt method of communication comes across to assertive. So it doesn’t reach him.
And in conclusion: these two were essentially destined for tragedy. 💔
Jake and Liam: I’m pretty sure these two interact the least throughout the show, but honestly they give off such a chill dynamic. Despite their lack of dialogue, it’s obvious these two care about each other, and they have each other’s back. I mean, Liam brought Jake Haribo Peaches. Asked if he was coming to school that day. A silent question of: are you alright? It’s a subtle show of compassion, and I think that’s all their relationship is really. Soft, subtle signs of care. And probably why he looked so defeated when Jake admitted the truth to them.
Jake and Henry: I almost see them having a brotherly dynamic. I mean, Henry picks on Jake a lot throughout the show. Teasing him about Daisy and Hailey, poking fun at him, laughing at him, stealing his jacket, all sorts of stuff. But I think picking on people’s sort of Henry’s love language. Just look at him and Liam.
Jake’s never really shown to say anything about this though, beyond just making a little face whenever it happens. (Actually, the image above is a perfect example of this. Henry teases Jake, and Jake just sort of accepts it.) I imagine he’d be a little bit annoyed with Henry at times, but at the end of the day, Henry is his clown and he does care about him. And I feel it’s very obvious he’s very fond of Jake as well.
I think that’s sort of why he tried to step in during Drew and Jake’s argument. He cares a lot about both of them, and wants to try and figure out things peacefully. I also think this is why he doesn’t say anything either after the fight, because what can he say? He cared a lot about Jake, and Jake lied.
Drew and Henry: These two are honestly a little more complicated, because honestly, I feel like a majority of their interactions are either Henry annoying Drew or Drew snapping back at him.
Like, yes, these two are in the same friend group, but I’d honestly say they’re the least close to each other. I’d imagine Drew genuinely finds Henry’s antics annoying at times, but Henry isn’t exactly sure if Drew’s being serious or not. And I’ve seen people make the argument that this is just normal friend bickering, but Henry genuinely looks a little defeated or nervous whenever Drew snaps back, which is why I think it’s a little more than that. (Or maybe I just need to rewatch every scene they have together lol.)
Drew and Liam: Okay, I will admit. This one will probably be the most speculative, because there’s not a lot of actual interactions between these two in the show. However, I am a hardcore Driam shipper so obviously I have crafted my own interpretation of these two’s relationship. (Which I’ll try to keep unbiased.)
And honestly, it’s sort of similar to the dynamic Liam has with Jake, but… also not? It’s sort of hard to explain.
Drew and Liam obviously care about each other, but I think there’s a distance between them. Because the show makes it abundantly clear that Henry and Liam are each other’s person. And Jake was Drew’s person. And because of this sort of unspoken alliance, there’s obviously a gap between Drew and Liam. (Just like with Drew and Henry.)
And I like to think Liam and Henry are trying to close that gap, Liam specifically. However, Drew almost always seems to sabotage this attempt by refusing to put away his phone until Jake shows up.
Liam’s also a lot more observant compared to Henry and Jake. And I feel he’s able to read Drew’s behaviors slightly. And similar to how Liam offered the Haribo Peaches to Jake as a silent show of support, I like to think he’d do similar to Drew. (I’m probably reading way too deep into the Haribo Peaches message lmao.)
I also think Liam would help keep Drew more grounded when they’re together. He’s not ass eccentric and random as Henry, but he’s also… not Jake. (Meaning Drew doesn’t have to walk around glass around him.) He’s less afraid of losing Liam because that’s not really what he thinks about. So Liam’s probably the most calming to be around. They’re able to talk and bicker back and forth peacefully.
Henry and Liam: They’re married, they just don’t know it. Yet.
I would say I’m kidding, but I’m genuinely not. These two are genuinely so damn perfect for each other. It’s so obvious how close these two are. I mean, the way they’re able to practically read and finish each other’s thoughts. How they always look at one another before saying anything. How easily and happily they go along with each other’s antics. How protective they can be of one another.
They’ve truly seen each other at the most cringe and embarrassing points of their lives. They’ve been through so many ups and downs together. And they’ve had each other through it all. Whether platonic or romantic, there’s no denying they love each other. And that love truly is beautiful.
TDLR: I spend too much time thinking about the Jomies. 😭😭😭
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When most people think of the Death of Cleopatra, they think of something like the above pictures. Cleopatra lying on a couch, or standing there clutching a snake to her exposed breast. Or, as in some of the above cases, with the fabled serpent biting directly on to her nipple. She is almost always nude or nearly so, practically inviting everyone to gaze on her body as she lies there in her death throes. She is frequently delicately pulling her gown down to give the viewer a perfect view of her breasts. Often her equally unclothed handmaidens are falling over her in their own death throes, or gesturing dramatically to better showcase their nudity. There are also usually several other people portrayed there as well, staring down at the nude, or nearly so, Queen’s corpse.
It has been, and will likely continue to be, a popular theme in art to depict her that way. It used to be a titillating thing, an excuse to paint a beautiful nude/semi nude woman. She’s been immortalized as such in sculpture, paintings, wax figures, and everything in between.
This image of her though, is a myth. Pure and simple.
Stacy Schiff, the author of “Cleopatra: A Life” describes her death like so:
Cleopatra lay on a golden couch, probably an Egyptian-style bed with lion paws for legs and lion heads at its corners. Majestically and meticulously arrayed in “her most beautiful apparel,” she gripped in her hands the crook and flail. She was perfectly composed and completely dead, Iras very nearly so at her feet. Lurching and heavy-headed, almost unable to stand, Charmion was clumsily attempting to make right the diadem around Cleopatra’s forehead. Angrily one of Octavian’s men exploded: “A fine deed this, Charmion!” She had just the energy to offer a parting shot. With a tartness that would have made her mistress proud, she managed, ”It is indeed most fine, and befitting the descendant of so many kings,” before collapsing in a heap, at her queen’s side. Charmion’s was an epitaph no one could dispute. (Nor could it be improved upon. Shakespeare used it verbatim.)
Cleopatra went to her death as she’d lived her entire adult life, as the Queen of Egypt. She had her royal robes and ornaments on, and was thus fully dressed. She knew full well Octavian and his men were going to burst in on her, were going to find her and her ladies there dead. There is no chance she was going to be lying there undressed when a room-full of strange men were going to be looking at her. Cleopatra made sure she went first, so that her ladies could arrange her so nothing inappropriate would be seen. As far as we know, the only ones there at the time of her death were her and her two handmaidens, as they had barricaded themselves inside her mausoleum.
It’s likely all the nudity also stems from propaganda spread by Octavian both during her life and after her death, painting her as a whore and a seductress. Of course she would be naked she was the decadent Eastern Queen who seduced men with her witchcraft! It’s just one of the many, and increasingly ridiculous, misconceptions that’s been spread about her since her death and one that people should realize was certainly not true. The snake is now widely regarded by most scholars as a myth as well, since it’s far more likely she took some kind of poison to end her life instead.
#cleopatra#cleopatra vii#ancient egypt#ptolemiac dynasty#charmian#iras#ancient rome#william shakespeare#long live the queue#I will PUNCH whoever uses illustrations of her with her breasts out/naked#It is SO old and so tired and anyone with half a brain knows that's not accurate#READ A HISTORY BOOK YOU MORONS
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AITA for asking my parents to pay my tuition for the semester, lying about how I lost my scholarship, and then planning on lying to my dad regarding his requirements in exchange for him paying the tuition?
My (20X) college has a scholarship for offspring of faculty members, and I was lucky enough to have my application accepted by the college that my dad (53M) works at. This means that I get a full ride scholarship; if I graduate within 4 years, I won't have to pay a single penny to my college (books and supplies not included, of course).
Unfortunately, the scholarship does have two requirements; I need to have taken at least a certain amount of credits semester before (not a ridiculous number), and for that semester, I need to have gotten over a 2.0/4.3 GPA. Easy enough, right? Who can't get a GPA over 2.0?
Well. I suffered a mental health downfall the past semester and I ended up failing half my classes. I was unable to sit my finals. I know this wasn't smart of me, and I think I should've done something about my academic situation other than just wait for the semester to be over, but I had quit a semester due to my mental health decline previously and I didn't want a repeat of that. In any case, I got a GPA of about 1.6. I'm not on probation but I did receive a warning.
Fortunately, this doesn't mean I lost my scholarship for good. I just need to fulfill those requirements in the upcoming semester and I get it back.
I realized I did need to pay my tuition this semester two days before tuition fee acceptance closes and I debated telling only one of my parents. My mom wants me to finish college no matter what, and my dad has told me that he does not care anymore as long as I don't stress him out. He's also told me he no longer has any expectations for me whatsoever. I did also consider talking about it with my brother and borrowing money from him to put together the tuition fee.
I figured I'd bite the bullet and just told my dad, who I know has been stressed about my future and how badly I'm doing in college. I just casually dropped it as I was making breakfast for myself and then we had a lengthy conversation that my mother (51F) joined when she got back home.
I don't remember much of the conversation (I may have memory problems) but the AITA mentioned part is that I lied to my parents and told them I did sit all my finals and try my best. I didn't. I tried that for mid term exams but I had nothing to write, so for finals I didn't sit them at all. This happened with three of the classes I was taking. I just didn't take my finals. My dad was suspicious of my claim; he said that as a professor himself he wouldn't fail students who at least submitted homework and sat their exams to write anything at all, but I maintained that I tried.
The conclusion was that my dad would be willing to pay my tuition if I got my shit together and also deleted my social media, which he thinks is a drain on my time and energy. He's not wrong. I deleted my Twitter accounts immediately afterwards (which my parents don't know about) because I've been thinking about it, but I can't really bring myself to get rid of Discord, where so many of my friends are. People I've met while studying internationally, long-term friends who moved to other countries; Discord is the only way to contact these people.
This is the AITA part; if my dad follows up on that particular requirement to check if I deleted Discord, which he particularly dislikes (he has previously confiscated the electronics I bought with my own money that I earned, after he saw me on muted call at night with some friends), I plan on deleting the app/program on my devices but using it anyway as a website. This would be a betrayal of my dad's trust in me, but there's no love lost between us anyway. He's already told me he doesn't love me unconditionally. (Yes, I'm his biological child and he did raise me.)
I also feel like an asshole because I could've settled this with the help of my brother; I'd pick up a job during the winter break to pay him back, but it would have been done eventually. Or I could've just gone to my mom. She works her own job, and we could've figured it out together without telling my dad. I told my dad anyway, wanting him to pay the tuition, even though I knew that talking about having to spend money on his kids stresses him out deeply.
My mom also told my dad to go to therapy (in detail, so I know it wasn't just something she said as a throwaway thing) during the conversation. It did get heated. I don't disagree, but I don't know if that'd be okay; mental health is stigmatized where I am, and my dad as a grown adult man and a respected professor if seen going to therapy could have his reputation kind of effected. It wouldn't have happened if I just brought up this whole situation quietly up to my mom, or just my brother.
So I lost my scholarship, I lied to my parents about the technicalities of how that happened, and I'm asking for some amount of money from my parents but also planning on lying to them in regards to the terms they set out. AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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Love Game (Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader) [Chapter 17 : I Remember Now]
Toji burst into Shiu Kong's office, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Shiu jumped, startled, his newspaper crumpling in his hands.
"What the hell, Toji?!" Shiu exclaimed, standing up from his chair. "What's gotten into you?"
Toji stood there, breathing heavily, "I need a mission. Now."
Shiu raised an eyebrow, setting his newspaper aside. "A mission? Toji, you were just released from the hospital yesterday. You should be resting, not jumping into another job."
Toji took a step forward, his hands clenched into fists. "I can't rest. I need to keep my mind occupied. Give me something, anything."
Shiu leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Alright, spill it, Toji. What's really going on here? This isn't like you, coming in here all hot and bothered, demanding a mission."
"It's nothing."
Shiu chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, man. We both know that's bullshit. Is this about Y/N?"
Toji's eyes flashed at the mention of your name, but he quickly relaxed his expression. "No, it's not about her." he lied, his voice flat. "I just need something to do, that's all."
Shiu narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. "Toji. You're a terrible liar. Now, sit down and tell me what's really going on."
Toji hesitated, then reluctantly sat down in the chair across from Shiu's desk. He sighed, "It's just...Y/N. She's been spending a lot of time with this guy, and it's bugging me."
Shiu leaned forward, a smug grin on his face. "Ah, I see. So, you're jealous."
Toji scowled, crossing his arms. "I am not jealous. I just don't like seeing her with some random guy, that's all."
Shiu leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he regarded Toji with a knowing look. "So, you're telling me that you're not jealous, yet here you are, barging into my office, demanding a mission because the Detective is spending time with another man?"
Toji shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I already told you, I'm not jealous. I just...don't trust this guy."
Shiu raised an eyebrow. "And why is that? Because he's competition?"
Toji scoffed, "That's ridiculous. There's no competition."
Shiu chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, Toji. You can't fool me. I've known you for too long. You're in love with Y/N."
Toji's expression darkened, and he stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back. "That's bullshit. I'm not in love with anyone. Least of all, Y/N."
Shiu shrugged, unfazed by Toji's outburst. "Love doesn't always come at a convenient time, Toji. Sometimes it sneaks up on you when you least expect it."
Toji laughed, a harsh and bitter sound. "Love? What a joke. I don't have time for that nonsense. I don't need some sappy emotions clouding my judgment."
"You can't run from your feelings forever, Toji. They'll catch up to you eventually."
"I'm not running from anything. I just don't buy into all that romantic crap. It's a waste of time." Toji hissed.
"You know, for someone who claims not to believe in love, you sure seem awfully invested in Y/N's personal life." Shiu rolled his eyes.
"I'm just concerned, that's all. She's important to me, as a friend." Toji replied, looking away.
Shiu retorted, "A friend? Really? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you've got it bad for her."
Toji waved a dismissive hand at Shiu, ignoring his comments. "Whatever. Do you have a mission for me or not?"
Shiu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, fine. I do have something, but it's not exactly...challenging."
Shiu opened a drawer and pulled out a thick file of documents, and started flipping through it. "We've been keeping tabs on a local Sorcerer, monitoring his activities. Nothing too suspicious, but we like to keep an eye on him nonetheless."
He handed a single file to Toji so he could further examine it. "What am I supposed to do with this? Babysit him?"
"No, no. We just need you to...verify some information. Make sure our intel is correct. It shouldn't take more than a day."
Toji looked up from the file, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "That's it? Verify some info? No Assassination? I can do that in my sleep."
Shiu shrugged. "Like I said, it's not exactly challenging. But it needs to be done."
Intrigued by the thick file that Shiu was holding, Toji snatched it from him and began flipping through the pages. He was surprised to discover the sheer number of Sorcerers and Cursed Users listed within.
"Jesus Christ, there are hundreds of these bastards all over Japan?"
Shiu nodded solemnly. "Yes, unfortunately. And that's just the ones we know about."
"How did you guys manage to keep track of all these people?" Toji still flipping through the documents, his surprise growing with each turn.
Shiu grinned "Years of experience, Toji. Years of experience. Plus, we have our ways of gathering information."
Toji whistled softly, shaking his head. "Impressive."
Toji was busy flipping through the pages, skimming over the various faces and names. When suddenly, his thumb paused on a photograph, and he felt a jolt of recognition as he realized who it was.
"That son of a bitch..." Toji growled, pointing at the photo. "This guy. He's the one Y/N's been seeing."
Shiu leaned over, squinting at the photo Toji was pointing at. "Ah, yes. That's Suguru Geto. Quite the impressive Sorcerer, I must say. Special Grade, and the best friend of Satoru Gojo, if I recall correctly."
"Geto? Isn't that the same guy I ran into a few years back in Kanagawa? The one with the Cursed Spirit Manipulation Technique?"
Shiu nodded. "Indeed, it is. You two had quite the brief encounter, if memory serves. Though, I suppose it's understandable that you might not remember. After all, it was just a few seconds of clashing."
Toji scowled, clenching his fist around the photo. "I should've known better than to forget a face like that. Especially now that I know he's involved with Y/N."
Shiu raised an eyebrow. "Involved, you say? You make it sound like they're more than just friends."
"I don't know, okay? All I know is that she's been spending a lot of time with him, and it's making me...uncomfortable."
Shiu chuckled. "Uncomfortable, huh? That's a start, I suppose. But listen, Toji. Geto may be a powerful Sorcerer, but he's also a decent person. At least, from what I've heard. Don't go jumping to conclusions just yet."
Toji grunted, tossing the file back onto Shiu's desk. "I'll reserve my judgment until I meet him again."
Toji hissed, "I'll finish this mission immediately. Consider it done by sundown tomorrow."
Shiu watched him leave, a concerned look on his face. "Toji, wait-"
But Toji was already gone, slamming the door behind him.
Once outside, Toji stormed down the street, his mind racing. Why would you choose to spend time with a Special Grade Sorcerer like Geto, of all people?
Toji gritted his teeth, clenching his fists at his sides. He knew he couldn't dictate who you chose to spend your time with, but damn it, he couldn't shake this feeling of anger.
"Why him?" Toji muttered to himself, kicking a nearby trash can in frustration. "Why the hell would she choose to hang out with a Special Grade Sorcerer like Geto? There are plenty of other guys out there who aren't walking disasters. Why him out of all goddamn people?"
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "I know I can't decide for her. I know that. But seeing her with him...it just pisses me off."
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
End Of Chapter 17 🥀....
A/N : Let's fuck Suguru in the next Chapter 🥵...
@meowforluv @miizuzu @geniejunn @scorpiosugar
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk#jjk fanfic#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji smut#jjk romance#jjk smut
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