#please I lose my mind when I think of him

[boke---hinata---boke]

RON WEASLEY GUYS

The best most canon divergent my brain has been but please guys hear me out i

Okay so we all know the things that Harry, Ron and Hermione had to do to get to the sorcerer’s stone in the first book. Devils Snare, the key, the riddle and Wizarding Chess. We know that the Chess set was the work of Professor Mcgonagall, and assuming the protections were meant to work that means that Mcgonagall would have to have been an incredible chess player. Not above average, like GrandMaster level player. Given this when Ron beats McGonagall she is taken aback. Only 3 other people have beaten her, Albus, Severus and Tom Riddle. She takes to playing chess with Ron in the nights following in the common room (Ron doesn’t sleep at all until Harry wakes up and is back in the dorm). She has not beaten him. At the end of year feast when Dumbledore awards him points for the “best chess game Hogwarts have ever seen” the Slytherins and Ravenclaws are utterly ill. Throughout the rest of his Hogwarts career Ron is challenged by more and more students to play chess, Theo Nott, loses to him and the Slytherin students begin to look at him differently. Half of the Ravenclaws in their year watch in awe as he swiftly beats Parma. It continues like this through his time at Hogwarts, he has never lost. The Slytherin students begin to see his cunning mins, right after he beats Pucey, who is infamous for thinking 20 steps ahead. When Ron beats Marietta Edgecombe the Ravenclaws begin to follow him, they watch nearly all of his matches and take notes, completely ignoring the 5 pave paper due tomorrow. After Ron has beaten all of the students Snape (who has been listening to the whispers in the Slytherin common room) challenges him. The whole school watches with bated breath. It is well known that Snape has only ever lost to two people: Dumbledore and Voldemort. McGonagall promises him 15 Knuts if he wins, she can’t contain the shame any longer.

The ensuing chess match takes place over the span of several days, Snape is frequently writing late notes for the students who wish to see it. Other teachers are arriving to their respective classes late. Every time the game is paused Dumbledore casts the anti-tampering ward. This continues for nearly a week, Ron wins. Snape has never respected a Gryffindor more in his life (he is doubly harsh on him in potions, you beat one of the best players in the nation and you mean to tell me your potion is still bubbling??[Ron knows that Snape is seeing him, he just smiles and tweets for a few minutes before a perfect potion is bottled{Snape keeps them in his personal store]}) Eventually Ron is set to play Dumbledore, he is utterly terrified. Soon enough the match is the talk of Wizards across the nation, the Weasley family are all overjoyed for him, win or lose. The game begins and reporters from the Daily Prophet are there, Ron almost cracks, almost In the end after a week and a half Dumbledore’s eyes twinkle, with renewed vigor as he forfeits. Word gets out to Voldemort- he immediately tries to recruit Ron as a Death Eater. Every time Ron rejects him Voldemort sends an increasingly expensive and rare gift. Eventually Ron says if Voldemort vows to not hurt Harry that he will play him in chess, just once. The winner decides their own boon. The world is watching with baited breath as the best chess player and one of the most calculating minds in a century take the stage.The game lasts fornearly 2 weeks, a peace settles over the UK that has not been since Voldemort rose in that grave. The two declare a tie. No body wins, but Voldemort does realize that the war has become far too brutish.

[eddiemunchem]

hiii!! i love your work so much and i was wondering about a little idea i haddd that ik you’d do justice (if you’re taking requests, if not then totally ignore this ☝🏽).

soo, i was thinking about dom!eddie getting pussy drunk? like he’s his regular babbling self, but when he starts getting close he loses it and starts begging A LOT to cum inside.

if you do decide to do this, thank you sm, i appreciate you and your work and i hope you have a lovely day <333.

━━━━━━━━ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ━━━━━━━━

📄 turned tables | eddie’s a dom through and through, but there’s something about coming in your pretty pussy that just reduces him to a complete mess.

⚠️ 1.1k words, fem!sub!reader, mean/hard!dom!eddie (srsly… pls heed this one), HEAVY d/s themes, rough sex, bondage/restraint, overstimulation, mean!eddie, m!dom to slight!m!sub, begging, whimpering, slight degradation, big dick!eddie, multiple orgasms, breeding/creampie, unprotected p in v, allusions to subspace, language, dirty talk, graphic depictions of male ejaculation (wtf is that tag), praise, i think i got everything

✏️ when i say the sub inside me QUIVERED while writing this… please fckin believe me 💀 also, i’m really not the best at articulating m!subs so i’m really sorry if that part isn’t the best 🙏

“oh, baby, look at those tears.” eddie cooed, large hands cradling your cheeks as his hips brutally slapped into yours.

you couldn’t speak, could only moan and whimper and whine as he used you, tears cooling against your temples as you just laid there taking it.

“hear how sloppy your lil’ pussy is? oooooh, she’s so greedy tonight, isn’t she?” eddie teased, thumbs swiping across your cheeks and lips pulled into that devilish grin. “think she wants my cum, angel?”

it was starting to border on too much — you were completely helpless as he ravaged you, hands bound to the bed posts by his pair of sterling handcuffs, the strain on your wrists less pleasant and more painful now. eddie had told you to count each orgasm he ripped from you, but your fuddled brain couldn’t make out whether this impending climax was your third or fourth.

“fuck, pretty girl. you’re clampin’ down on me; gon’a cum, yeah?”

you nodded fervently, hoping the action would be enough to satisfy eddie’s hunger for control — but it didn’t.

the gentle cradle of his hands turned to a firm grip, blunt nails biting into the skin along your jaws.

“use your fuckin’ words, angel. i know i’ve told you this before.” eddie growled, hips picking up speed and fucking into your sopping cunt with a punishing force.

the wail that ripped from your throat pulled a satisfied groan from eddie, who’s hips faltered for just a brief moment — but it was enough of a tell for you to know he was approaching his end, too.

fucking finally.

“yes, yes, i’m gon’a c-cum!” you blathered, fresh tears pooling in your eyes as eddie battered your cervix straight into your stomach. it was so painful, with no care to the impact on your body — the way eddie knew you needed it.

“mmhmm, yeah? how many, angel? which one is this?” eddie pressed, clearly referring to the amount of orgasms you’d been wrecked with and — shit, was it three? or was it four?

“i’m waiting, sweetheart.” eddie trilled, hips never stilling, driving into you with the force of a damn bull. it was sapping every bit of your strength, fogging your mind over with a haze of pain and pleasure so intense that you could hardly even mentally navigate through it.

“f-four!” you spilled out, lips, hips, legs and feet trembling — your stomach was so tight now, so painfully tight; you were going to die.

“oh… angel.” eddie whispered, tone saturated with what you could faintly decipher as disappointment. just two words were enough to have your stomach twisting in fearful knots, pussy quivering around the cock brutalizing it.

“maybe i’m fucking you too stupid… this is your third, sweet girl.”

the sound you released was downright pitiful — not quite a moan, not quite a whimper, but something in between. you’d gotten it wrong.

you’d answered his question wrong.

“‘m sorry!” you cried, hands pulling against the restraints. “‘m so sorry!”

that’s all you could do now — apologize and beg for his forgiveness, for even the slightest bit of clemency.

eddie hummed low in his throat, but the noise seemed strangled. his hips stuttered once more and his cock kicked against your walls — and it dawned on you that he was a lot closer than you initially thought.

“i’ll let it slide this once, angel.” eddie whisped, breathlessly. “but in return, y’gotta cum f’me. gotta get this cunt nice and sloppy f’me, ‘kay?”

you hadn’t expected to receive clemency so easily — but you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“yes, yes, thank you…” you babbled, head so pleasantly fuzzy and muscles weak with relief.

eddie groaned deep in his throat and whipped his right hand away from your face — you were almost completely unprepared for it when he planted his fingers over your clit and rubbed harshly, the slide aided by the creamy mess between your bodies.

“fuck! too much—” you cried out, back arching straight off of the mattress. it was all hot lightning, shooting all through your body and electrifying your muscles.

“it’s not — it’s not. just fuckin’ cum, already.” eddie demanded, though it slipped into something a bit needier at the end — as if he were begging for you to do so.

your ability to speak was robbed by the intense pain coursing through your body — there was pleasure there, of course, but between eddie’s cock bullying your cervix and his fingers abusing your swollen clit, there was very little chance for it to shine.

the orgasm building inside your gut wasn’t one of pleasure — rather, one that was being forced from your tired body, completely drawn through by your anatomical structure; you were built to orgasm after a certain amount of stimulation, and you’d do so even if it hurt.

“eddie, i-i’ll die!” you wailed, body quaking, nerves fraying — and all at once it stopped, eddie’s fingers disappeared from your clit and he was no longer hovering above you pounding you senseless. on the contrary, he was no longer fucking into your cervix with savage accuracy.

“fuck, it’s so good!” eddie groaned, hips bucking wildly. “so fuckin’ sloppy and warm — bes’ fuckin’ pussy — mmmm, yeah — shit!”

eddie had seemed to of completely forgotten about your orgasm — he was chasing after his own now, high off of your pussy, drunk on the sensations around his cock. you’d never heard him sound so… whiny, or needy before.

“god, please, please. let me c-cum in’ya, angel. le’me fill’ya up.” eddie slurred, voice thick yet airy, hips slamming into you without any real rhythm.

“you feel so good, i jus’ — jus’ wanna breed you. wan’a stuff you. can i?” eddie wasn’t even really giving you a chance to respond, more words and vulgarities tumbling from his lips like a waterfall.

“yeah, you’re gon’a le’me fill you up. fuck, fuck, yer so good, losin’ my fuckin’ mind—”

eddie was completely scrambled, eyebrows knit tightly together and eyes glazed over — he looked so fucked out, so crazed, that it left you starstruck.

“mmm — god, baby, yes, i’m-i’m coming!” eddie whined, slamming deep into your pussy once, then twice — and then he was spilling inside you, cock twitching and throbbing with every single shallow pump of his hips.

as always, his cum was thick, shooting out of his cock with such a velocity that you could faintly feel the way it splattered against your cervix — and the whole time, as your pussy milked him, eddie whimpered against your ribcage, body practically folded in half over yours as he rode his orgasm out in short, slow thrusts.

it took you a few moments to register what had actually just happened — and when it dawned you, you didn’t really know what to think about it. it was an idea that was just far too outlandish to consider, had you not witnessed what you had.

eddie may have the propensity to be a switch.

[gloomwitchwrites]

LOVED the sit down fics. Please consider: US telling THEM to sit down. What are they going to do? Argue and sleep on the couch? (Love your works!! Always makes my day when I see a new one)

AHHHHHHHHH! ANON OMG! I love this. I giggled and kicked my feet the entire time I was working on these. I had so much fun jumping back into the Imagines Series after Kinktober with this prompt. While I'm still working through the 3.5k Spooky Bingo event, I am returning to my usual content.

For those curious, THIS is the fic that Anon is referring to.

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, suggestive themes, flirting, arguments, swearing

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“John. We have to talk about this.”

“We are talking.”

“No. We’re arguing. And you’re not listening.”

“Of course I’m listening, love.”

“Then what did I just say?” you ask, exasperated.

John opens his mouth and then pauses. He loses steam, the gears turning as he realizes he’s wrong. He takes a deep breath and then holds up his hands. “If I’m being honest, love—”

“Fuck. Sit down, John.”

Your tone is sharp, and John drops into a chair, completely silent, his gaze locked in on you.

“If you are not going to listen to me, then I’m ending this discussion. We can come back to this later. When we’re calm.”

John is always the steady one. He’s your rock, but for whatever reason, this one discussion has transformed into an argument.

There is silence after, and you have no idea what John thinks of your sudden authoritative demeanor. His face is blank, and then his mouth turns up into an amused smile.

“What?” you ask, suddenly flustered.

John relaxes into the chair, spreading his thighs wide in invitation. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re angry, love.”

“Don’t distract me, John,” you mutter, the irritation beginning to melt away.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"We're having this out," says Kyle, grabbing your upper arm. He tugs you against him, head tipping forward in an intimate gesture.

"I don't want to argue with you," you reply.

"And I'm not done." His tone is calm but firm. Whenever Kyle sets his mind to something, it can be difficult for him to change course.

"Well, I am." Kyle's hold on your upper arm tightens a bit. It's not painful, but he draws you closer. "Now, sit down."

"Wha—"

"Sit. Down."

Kyle draws back, startled. His hold loosens and descends to grasp your wrist as he sinks onto the sofa. You rarely assert yourself, but you're frustrated with him.

“I am done fighting about this. Either we find a compromise, or we end this discussion.” Kyle breathes deep, his gaze intense as you continue. “You can sleep out here if you won’t budge.”

“I sleep beside you,” replies Kyle.

“Then talk to me. Don’t push me around.”

Kyle’s hand on your wrist softens, his thumb gently caressing the inside of your palm. It makes you shiver, and Kyle pulls you closer. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, voice soothing.

"Can we talk now? No fighting?"

"No fighting," he agrees.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Irritation bubbles under your skin, creating a buzzing sensation that puts you on edge. You and Simon rarely fight but the two of you always circle back to the same issue.

“I’m sick of talking in circles. We have to figure this out.”

The corner of Simon’s mouth twitches. “I’ve already told you how I feel about it,” he says.

“I understand but we have to find a compromise.”

“I’m not willing to budge on this.”

“Simon—"

He pushes in, invading your space. “You’re the one that’s undecided.”

You hate being bossed around, and you hate it more when Simon flaunts his dominance during a disagreement.

“Sit down,” you growl.

Simon blinks, startled. “What?”

“Sit. Down.”

Simon’s gaze narrows, the middle of his brow creasing. But he sits, settling on the sofa.

“I understand how you feel but I need you to listen to how I’m feeling. This is a big decision, and I want us to talk through things. I’m not just going to bend over and take it.”

“But you like it when I bend you over.”

“Simon Riley!”

Simon smirks “Need to let out a little steam?”

“Yes,” you mutter, flustered. “But this conversation isn’t over.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Arguments with Johnny almost always end in sex.

He’ll use his tongue, his fingers, and then eventually his dick until you’re blissfully fucked out of your head.

“You are not distracting me,” you say sharply as Johnny moves in, a sly smile on his face.

His hands settle on your waist, gripping tightly. You know if you don’t get a handle on this now, you’ll be face down in the bed with ass in the air in moments. It’s Johnny’s favorite position.

Placing your hands on Johnny’s chest, you give him a bit of a shove, creating space. “Sit down, Johnny.”

Johnny’s eyebrows rise suggestively. With a sauntering sway, Johnny sits on the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless and wearing grey sweatpants. They hang dangerously low on his hips.

You cover your eyes. “We need to have a conversation that doesn’t end in sex.”

“I don’t see the issue.”

“Of course you don’t,” you mutter.

“I like it when you boss me around.” You can feel his heat just before his arms slide around you.

“Oh my God,” you groan, pushing at his chest. “Sit down.”

Johnny teasingly nips at your neck. “Only if you sit in my lap.”

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[ddejavvu]

I can't get the thought of marking Hotch up with lipstick marks out of my head. Like imagine leaving a trail of kisses down from his neck to his dick. And if the lipstick is starting to fade, he'd reapply it for her so she could continue marking him

Hotch is typically more-than-professional during round table sessions, the grim atmosphere of the room setting the tone for his no-nonsense behavior. However, he can't stop himself from itching at a persistent stinging against his collarbone- probably something to do with the mark you'd sucked into his skin only hours earlier.

it's such an intense sensation that he slips a hand beneath his collar to itch it skin-on-skin, something probably unprofessional considering his environment, but one of those base human things that must be done even if it shouldn't be. A few wandering eyes note his movements, observant but neutral as a profiler should be.

It isn't until he withdraws his hand, fingers stained a crimson red, that anyone reacts.

JJ shifts in her seat, eyes blowing wide as Prentiss leans forwards, "Hotch, is that blood?"

Aaron's already grasped the edge of his manila folder with his lipstick-stained fingers, turning the yellow paper a sinful shade. He frowns, glancing down at his pristinely pressed suit, but there's nothing red against his chest.

"Your hand," Reid urges, his brows knitted in concern, but it's Derek- of course - who recognizes the red for what it really is.

"Hold on," He laughs incredulously, a great gust of air that comes out like a bark, "Hold on, hold on, hold on, that came off'a your chest?"

Caught red-handed, Hotch composes himself, which is a very stark difference to the way that his team dissolves into teasing giggles. Penelope has clapped a hand over her mouth, perhaps the only way she can hold herself back from opening it.

"Settle down." Hotch attempts, but Rossi undermines him with an exasperated groan. Once the oldest of the team proves unreachable Hotch knows he's lost the room, and sits in stony silence while he waits for his coworkers to finish getting their fill.

"My man." Morgan declares, clapping Hotch on the shoulder with a strong hand he's lucky not to lose, "She got you in the doorway this morning, didn't she?"

"We're talking about dead teenagers, here." Hotch reminds them, raising a brow as Emily, Penelope, and JJ collapse into girlish giggles, "Can we please focus on the case?"

"This is on you, Hotch." Rossi levels him with what's supposed to be an unimpressed glare, and what really comes off as a smirk, "It's not their fault you come to work with lipstick under your clothes."

"I have to ask Y/N for that shade," Penelope gushes, but at Hotch's warning glare she grabs her remote and retakes her place beside the viewing screen, "But-! But our trusty boss is right, there are lives on the line here. So- um, incriminating lipstick stains pushed to the back of the mind, we'll start up again on our case."

Hotch's shoulders relax as the team sinks back into careful contemplation of the case details. He thinks he's escaped scrutiny altogether thanks to the shocking violence of this particular unsub, but it's three days later when he hears about the lipstick stains again.

Surprisingly, it's Reid that comes to torture him, and the slick comment comes when Hotch is forced into sharing a motel room with him. Communal bathrooms are in the middle of the complex, but it's easier to change in their rooms. He unbuckles his belt facing the corner of the small room, giving Reid space to change himself, and giving both of them as much privacy as possible.

"Careful, Hotch," Reid calls, voice misleadingly kind-hearted which lures Aaron into a sense of security, "There's a gap in the curtains behind where you're standing. You wouldn't want any onlookers to see any more lipstick Y/N left behind."

Hotch decides that Reid is worse than Morgan. Morgan is expected to be crass, so it's not a shock when it's delivered. Reid, however, is one to watch out for.

"Reid," Hotch responds, hearing Spencer's breathy laughter already bubbling from his throat, "I'm sticking you on desk duty for a month when we get back."

[cherie-doll]

I said "do you think you'll kill for me one day?"

(Yes, of course I will, my darling)

― yandere!cod men x reader ― ε price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, makarov, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto з suggestive?

꒰ ͜ ‿ ͜ ♡ ͜ ‿ ͜ ꒱

ଘ You're no plaything for Price. He doesn't just like you, he adores you. Cups your pretty face in his hands; delicately. His rugged and rough hands become gentle as soon as he comes into contact with your skin, treating it as if it were finely-grained porcelain. He treats you the exact opposite of how he treats anyone else. Whilst he leaves everyone else covered from head to toe in blood for coming near you, you're covered from head to toe in the most expensive items you wish for. But, he doesn't want you to forget that his money doesn't represent his love for you, it does not begin to cover not even half of what it should. He'll be sure to remind you not to be spoiled rotten. He's fond of you and while he's interested in you, you should listen and obey to what he advices you. He is more experienced after all.

ଘ Compare what Simon's scars and bruises are to your unscathed body. Let his hands roam over your body, taking in all he works for. Let them wander and familiarize with what he's toying with. His breath on your skin as it quickens, losing his train of thoughts as he fondles you. He's convinced you're meant only for him. No one else should touch you this way, no one could do it like he does. And please return it! Cradle his head in your lap, so the sizzling subsides and he feels alive. Let him know he's the best, the one. Let him lean in and capture those soft, plump lips in a passionate kiss. Don't pull away, don't deny him his heaven. And don't you dare let anyone else trail your body with their eyes like he does. Why, he'll feel as if they're already doing what their mind desires. He's screwed up in his mind but he'll move heaven and earth for those thighs to wrap around his waist at night spilling the warmth between them. Make him feel warm and welcome, give him the world he burns everyone else for. He sacrifices others at the feet of your altar.

ଘ Johnny's smug smile can fade rather quickly with one sensual move from you, watch him get lost as his breath is winded and his body is overtaken with an all-consuming fire of passion. Oh, he can't even fathom the idea of anyone before or after him experiencing such things. He'll be paralyzed the moment you sit on his lap and putting your hand to his chest, let it trail over his heart which at the moment beats wildly. It's a sensation he experiences when plunging a knife deep within someone else's chest, he reckons the feeling is almost the same. He thinks his victims rather lucky they die this way. How many other people can experience that fleeting, overwhelming feeling?

ଘ Kyle's hand kisses are done with such reverent trembling and respect that he'll have your skin tingling with warm sensations as if the late evening sun was seeping into your skin. Let his and your body blend together like the watercolors on an artist's canvas does. Bask in his affection like you'll sunbathe on the beach. Take in all the good he brings you, accept every touch of his that starts with a secure embrace and ends with the colliding of your bodies. The cold with which he lashes out for others has no place with the gentleness he entreats you with. Keep your eyes on his, locked in his steady gaze immerses himself in fantasies. He feels dizzy as if his world was spinning, losing himself in the sensations. And after the elation, let him shower you in praises, caresses and gifts. Let him buy you two rings for each finger, how many could you want to show off having a caring partner when you slide his card at the register? Make your hands look pretty whilst his are leaving a trail of crimson blood after him.

ଘ Roach couldn't ever hurt anyone else, he didn't know what he was capable of until the importance of you came all too clear. You're something that shouldn't belong to anyone else in the world. It's a quick descent down the spiral of violent devotion. His soft gaze usually filled with admiration and sentiment for you hardens, his pupils dilating as fear takes over. He's only acting on behalf of all his anguish, you haven't the heart to condemn him. He's shown you what your heart is worth, couldn't you give him some sort of heaven? He will do very well at whatever it is you ask of him, just wait while he shows you. There isn't anyone else like him he says over and over as if a prayer or spell he could make come true.

ଘ Makarov does not care whether he deserves you or not. Unlike the others who will commit unspeakable acts out of guilt and use their "pure" intentions to purify their actions, Makarov is selfish and relentless in what he wants. He does not flinch at your attempts of control, it's lost the moment he takes you in. He's determined to taste everything you have to offer, whether it's willingly or not. But he does like things to be served on a platter for him, he also has no problem taking it himself. Let the hand on the back of your neck guide you in the direction you are to walk, be docile and you'll surely receive tenderness. He can never deny that he loves the way your lashes flutter as you look through them up at him as he pats your head for being so good. Overtime you might notice small details showing his exterior cracking and revealing the soft, white underbelly of affection. He feels as if his chest caves in from your actions, the subtle red at the tip of his ears. Keep pulling at his neck collar, he'll like that fake sense of control you have.

ଘ You wouldn't ever catch a glimpse of Alejandro's manipulative strategies until he finds someone threatening. Is it wrong you're not seeing enough of other people? His biggest fear is you falling for someone else, the danger of you getting too close to someone is palpable for him. The intimacy you two share is from the harvest he's worked so hard for. He's been slaving away for so long to just let someone else lay a hand on you. He kneads you into what he desires, anything to feel the beating heart in your chest which pumps only for him. He'll keep polishing you until he gets down to the bare essence of you, which he can only dream to capture. The rhythm he wants to feel rushing through his veins, circling throughout his body.

ଘ Rudy's tenderness blinds you as he takes you to what you can only describe to be paradise. With the shining of luxury, all new and just for you he says. He'll press a million sweet kisses on your face before dropping that a most bothersome person will no longer be graced by your presence ever again. To him it's like a quiet act of love, to you, it's unimaginable. Don't worry your head will all the details, isn't it better to have no worries? He's all smooth indulgence telling you to keep looking at the adorned future he has ahead for you, telling you not to pay attention to the blood that stains the walls of the hallways you walk. He would lay out a new, fancy red carpet over the corpses for you to step over and continue in this fabricated dream.

ଘ Phillip knows exactly how to get the best out of you. Can you blame a man for knowing how to get what he wants from you? Let him tease and tug for he knows what every maneuver of his does. The hands that massage your skin don't get dirty, he'll always have others ready and willing to carry out whatever order he gives. It's what he's accustomed to and how he intends to keep it. But the droplets of blood that splatter do not miss his skin. The stain is still there, still under the skin of the thumb he pushes inside of you, feeling around for that bliss. Let his protectiveness clothe your body, he's already blurring the lines between obsessiveness and possessiveness.

ଘ Keegan's eyes will have you coming to a stumbling halt. Asking for something only you know how to give so good. Those erratic eyes that are unpredictable as they are deep, representing the deep dive you have to be holding your breath for. Are you ready to indulge? Because the impact will have you gasping for air, and when you try to take one you'll only swallow a mouthful of carnal desire. He ignites such a heat it's scalding to the touch, you don't know what's happening it's like you lose control. It happens so fast that when it's all over you'll let his lips, from which hot breaths slip through, kiss all over your sweat glistened body. His eyes might be softer and hold it for a while until he's back to the merciless, cold gaze which freezes everyone's else blood, feeling it lump within their veins.

ଘ Let König go on his fast rampages. They're over quick anyways. And afterwards, when he comes back, cradle his head between your thighs his tongue tangling as he stutters out promises to buy you what you wish if only you let him lap at your sweetness until his thoughts are left to reckless abandonment. Let him get what he can't get anywhere else. Call him handsome as your bury your fingers into his hair, your fingertips trailing his jaw and down his neck to where his adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. Place kisses on his cheek until he turns his head in one swift motion and captures your lips in a desperate kiss. He wants it all, wants all of you all at once it makes him messy, shaky and weak. But he just wants someone to hold him, rubbing his ears and whispering words of affirmation in his ear.

ଘ Horangi could care less what other's want from him. You're in his viewpoint and he's determined to apply as much pressure as possible to make you bend. The reason he justifies himself with is the lullaby he's lulled to sleep with. Everyone else wants something from him, why shouldn't you? Everyone else is just in the way, he says over and over again, trying to make you focus on his lips instead of the bodies on the floor. With what he's done, he expects a standing ovation from you, nothing but complete adoration and servitude. He's a man who chases after impulses, who knows how long until this candle runs out. For now, ignore the brusque hand and acknowledge the underlying intents. He'll keep this lecherous momentum going until you're feeling faint from the mere touch of his hand.

ଘ Resignation is a trait Nikto works hard to work out of you. Surely, you ought to trust him after all he's done for you. In his mind, he's dedicated such gentle caring to you, you should be grateful. Don't be afraid to take directly out of his hand, he prefers you lose that skepticism. And when you do start to gentle, oh he can never get enough of it. His fingers grazing and gliding over your body at any and every chance he can get. Let him delve deeper into you, it's only natural for him to want to know you better. Every quiver of yours, he feels through the epidermis of his skin. He just knows you that well. His jerking movements shouldn't startle you by now. Maybe if you were more open, you would be telling him what you want. Give him some sort of sign before that spark ignites an unyielding fire. Because to him, that trembling is a sign of a smoldering fierceness waiting to break through.

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . ꔫ

[cosmic-expressions]

⋮ ♯; ⤷ YOU'RE MY FAVORITE .ᐟ

alhaitham x fem!reader, smut; tying up, cowgirl, praise, check-ins (cuz they are hot as hell too); marking (hickeys), pretty vanilla if you ask me; idk what else needs a warning wc: 665 (man so close yet so far) a/n: reblogs are nice, lemme know what you think! i wouldn't mind some feedback..... inbox is always open and maybe yall see me here a bit more often in November (unless my studies kill me lol)

having ALHAITHAM tied to the bed, laid bare for your eyes and your eyes only, is almost like a dream come true. and since he came out with this idea, something you always wanted to bring up… of course your body reacted on its own.

“does it feel good? is it tight?” you make sure he’s not in pain, that he’s comfortable because the last thing you want to do is hurt him while fulfilling your little fantasy. but when he assures you all is well, you can’t hide the excitement coursing through you. “you’re so pretty like this… i mean- you’re always pretty and handsome but this is- i really like it like that…”

ALHAITHAM smiles and lets out a little chuckle, his body growing warm and face getting red thanks to your words; also, something about your hungry stare, about you clearly enjoying it, and about pleasing you like that… it gets him going as well.

you straddle his lap, plopping softly on it; the feeling of your soft, plushy thighs against his skin only fuels his desire and need, making him let out a little, somewhat impatient, sound. but you’re no better, feeling him grow harder underneath you, seeing his every reaction, you just can’t help and whimper softly. leaning in, you place your lips on his, kissing him slowly at first, just to get greedy right after.

normally, ALHAITHAM would hold your hips, would have his hands all over you, and would make sure it’s really you on top of him; but not it’s you who gets to touch him all over. getting handsy, he can feel the rough possessiveness in your touch, in every caress and rub.

“you’re so- mmmh, just- perfect,” you mutter between the kisses, humming and moaning quietly. with hands all over his upper body, you graze your fingertips over his muscles, making sure to leave a trace of fiery passion.

“baby-” ALHAITHAM lets out a short groan when you start rubbing yourself against him, a little teasing but also a preparation for what’s to come. “you’re a- you’re a tease-”

“i know, i know,” kissing him again, you continue the slow movements a little more. you two moan into each other’s mouth, bodies reacting and moving in an almost synchronized pace. “just a little more- a little more- i know you can-”

muttering soft praises and encouragements, you trail your lips down, leaving kisses across his cheek, jaw, and neck; in every place you know will get a reaction from him. “

oh- fuck! baby you’re-!” ALHAITHAM groans again, jaw clenching when you finally take him inside you, your tight and slick walls inviting and nestling his cock so sweetly. with your weak moans and whimpers accompanying your movements, it’s just a matter of time for him to go insane.

you reach for his palm and hold it tight, kissing him softly and lovingly, all while you move up and down on him. ALHAITHAM throbs and moans, loving how your hand feels small and warm wrapped around his own. kissing you back, shamelessly eager, ALHAITHAM bucks his hips up, reaching deep inside; reaching and pressing on all the sweet and sensitive places that have you breathless in seconds.

“fuck-! fuck, alhaitham!” you moan and throw your head back, losing it to the pleasure.

he’s fast to suck on your neck and leave soft kisses all over your cleavage, something that became a small habit of his. a little familiar thing, grounding him at the moment; the feeling of your warm skin, of your pulse underneath his lips, the warm and shallow breaths over his ear – it’s all he loves and needs to be sure you feel good and safe with him. safe enough to let yourself free and feral, safe enough to take him like you want and not be ashamed of it. that’s what causes his heart to flutter aggressively in his chest… and to cum inside you immediately, filling you up and stretching you well.

[MAIN-MLIST] [GENSHIN-MLIST] [INBOX] [KO-FI]

[ollimus-prime]

HAIIII OLLIE !!!!1!1!!!!!!1!!!!!◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ IM LOWKEY SOOOOOO EXCITED THAT YOURE WRITING FOR TRANSFORMERS ON A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT BLOG ENTIRELY MADE FOR IT!!!!1! + you already KNOW who it is — ITS YOUR BOY 😼😼 /ref

i’ve been tweaking so hard over tfone b-127 bumblebae boy bc he’s so auuuhhh — 😭😭 got me on my knees bc my type in men is so golden retriever boyfriends, BUT SPEAKING OF GOLDEN RETRIEVER BOYFRIENDS!!

i hope you don’t mind me requesting b-127 with a fem cybertronian reader who’s just his female counterpart drabble or hcs? like it’s giving yapper x yapper and golden retriever x golden retriever, no freaking doubt both fell for eachother the moment they introduced themselves and started to yap together. OK I TALK TOO MUCH, PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF OLLIE!!! DRINK UP, EAT UP, SLEEP WELL AND TAKE BREAKSSSS!! Loves ya much :)

Yapper Adoration

A/N, not important: Hope you like it, Frankie. I tried my best. Also, it's Gender Neutral, not fem. Sorry! Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: N/A(unless y'all see smth I need to add)

Words: 554

Summary: B-127 finally has someone to talk to

B-127 was first introduced to you via Elita-1. She had met you during her time in waste management, your bubbly and eager-to-please personality strikingly similar to B’s own. Elita-1, knowing she had two loud and boisterous bots that needed constant attention, stuck you together in hopes that you would both get along and stop bothering everyone else. To Elita-1’s delight and slight horror, the two of you stuck together like magnets.

B-127 finally had someone who not only was willing to listen to him, but someone who actively engaged in what he said. Not to mention you had worked similar jobs, causing a bond to form from the toil of sorting garbage and the dream of doing more. You were just as positive and rambunctious as him, causing B-127 to immediately latch onto you as his new best friend.

Not that you minded, of course. You had your fair share of bots who’ve been annoyed by your endless chatter, and finding someone who was similar to you in personality and mannerism was just as freeing to you as it was to B. Neither of you were much willing to separate after your first meeting. Despite Elita’s chiding of you both moving too fast, you had started dating the kind and energetic bot.

You’re also one of the only bots B-127’s met that didn’t immediately think he was insane. Sure, you’ve joked about his ‘friends’ that he made down in sub level 50 before, but he didn’t sense a hostility in your tone like most others seem to have. You encouraged his interests and helped him find new friends, showing support he’s never truly received before.

There’s never silence when either of you are around, both of you capable of listening to the other’s prattling just as much as you converse back and forth. Having someone willing to listen to your interests and engage with them is something neither of you really realized you needed. While you were definitely more socially aware than B was, you weren’t much better at keeping friends around.

You comfort him a lot after D-16’s departure, allowing him to express his feelings in a healthy way while dealing with his quick gain and loss of friends. He leans on your positive attitude to keep his intact as well, and he’s incredibly grateful to have you. He wants to have all of his friends back, but having you to lean on after losing one so quickly makes it easier to manage.

Neither of you ever stop bragging about landing each other, the both of you getting into basic lovers quarrels over who loves the other more. Whenever you’re seen together, you’re almost always touching in some way. Whether it’s holding hands, hugging, or leaning against each other, there’s not much that can make either of you stray far enough to not be glued to the other. It’s mostly for B’s sake, as being alone for so long really had to put a strain on his mental health. Being able to hang onto you is a good reminder you’re not only real, but that you’re not going anywhere.

He’s your best friend through and through, and feels super safe with you. He wants you to know you’re his favorite person and reminds you like, every few minutes. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

[gem-de-lune]

Daily Vibe Check 11/07

Seunghan

Hanged Man + 10 of Swords + Ace of Swords (Strongest Emotion)

Again, he is facing similar energy these days. A waiting for the signal. There is some fear bubbling up though, some anxiety around the situation. But that fear is kind of extinguished with a certain excitement for the whole ordeal tdealtover and dealt with very soon. With his strongest emotion here being thebAce of Swords, he is experiencing something like an emotional breakthrough. Internally he is developing himself and rebuilding a lot of lost confidence. His mind his clear and he knows what he must do.

What is he expecting to happen within the next few days?

King of Pentacles + Chariot + 9 of Pentacles (his reaction)

He is anticipating a deal of sorts, perhaps a contract for investment of his time and future. This, along with the Chariot does indicate some positive omens in regards to his potentially rejoining the group. (Again, the 7 card Chariot pops out) and with the 9 of Pentacles being his reaction to this ordeal, it does indicate he is satisfied with the outcome and the work it took to get there both internal within himself and externally as a lot of people supported him.

What is SMs current stance on the Seunghan issue?

3 of Chalices + Queen of Swords

They are meticulously planning, still. There are indicators that it is a small team that is managing whatever plans are being made, and they all have a very collaborative energy, and there is a positive and celebratory vibe around what they are planning.

When will SM reveal their intentions regarding Seunghan?

The Moon + 8 of Wands + Queen of Wands (Clarification)

These were very contradictory and I was very very confused at first. The Moon would indicate "IDK would they even ever though?" and the 8 of Wands would indicate "very soon" LMAO. So then I was like hollon....what if they do not announce it? We have already spoken about this theory, but I have never necessarily pulled that theory so explicitly before. So I used a clarifyer (Queen of Wands) to ask if Seunghan would come back suddenly and unannounced. This would indicate that yes, and that SM is likely being very careful about what they are doing and trying to protect Seunghan from the situation that happened last time. So they will probably not give any heads up or if they do, it will simply not be far ahead of D-Day.

However I also want to acknowledge that I said something like 2 last time, and i also said i did not feel like it would be 2 weeks. But i change my mind. I think it could be two weeks before we SEE something in the flesh. But i think we may still HEAR whispers starting tmw into the weekend and next week.

Final Notes:

I want to remind you all that again- these need to be taken with a grain of salt and that the future is STILL up for grabs. I hope no one becomes complacent and overly reliant on Tarot. While we can see a path here, we cannot guarantee* it and that is important. I am here to show you the path so we do NOT lose hope, not to play God. Please remember that and still do everything you can for Seunghan until he comes back. Again- he isn't back until we see him on that stage. It isn't over until we see him on that mf stage. Okay?!

[pipsyy]

caught...

sub!hamzah x f!reader smut (lowkey perv!hamzah if you squint)

hi everyone! i thought of this idea at like 3am a couple nights ago and it has been plaguing my mind ever since. please enjoy! message me requests please! i am desperate for prompts.

summary: after losing a few of your panties, you begin to suspect your shy roommate Hamzah. but, coming home early one night, you are met with a sight that would change things for good.

warnings: smut under cut! DON'T read if you are under the age of 18.

word count: 2575

For weeks, you had been losing your underwear. You would put your clothes in the washer, then the dryer, but by the time you got back to your room and folded your clothes, one, or sometimes two, pairs of your panties were missing. It was concerning, to say the least. However, when you lost your favorite pair (pink cotton with white lace and bows), you began to get frustrated.

“Hamzah?” you ask your roommate while he’s in the kitchen getting snacks.

“Mmh?” he responds, mouth full with doritos.

“Kind of a weird question—I mean, you probably have no fucking clue—but have you seen my panties anywhere? I can’t find them.”

At the mention of panties, Hamzah’s cheeks flush a light shade of pink. “Panties?!” he asks, mouth still full. He swallows thickly. “No, I mean, I don’t think so. What do they look like?”

“Um-” you felt yourself blush a light shade of pink, thinking about how embarrassing it was talking about your panties with your hella attractive roommate. “They’re pink and white—bows too.”

If possible, Hamzah flushed an even deeper shade of red. “O-oh, no. No. I haven’t seen them anywhere,” he huffed out an awkward laugh, looking anywhere else in the room but your eyes.

“That’s okay,” you say, giggling awkwardly. The tension palpable in the room. “Just…you know, if you do see them, let me know.”

—

Later that week, after getting home early from a party, you were met with the most surprising of circumstances. You entered your apartment and kicked off your shoes; the 4-inch heels had killed your feet. Every light in the apartment was off—save for the small light emanating from the clocks on the oven and microwave—and it was dead silent. Eerily silent. You knew that Hamzah was home, I mean, he never left. But it was only 11pm, which was way too early for him to go to bed. You at least expected to hear him typing on his computer, or hear the faint sound of his laptop playing a show, or hear him yelling at whatever stupid game he was playing with Martin. But no. Absolutely nothing.

Just then you heard it. Although you weren’t exactly sure what “it” was. A faint, but deep, groan, as if someone was crying out in pain. You strained your ears, listening for that noise again. There! There it was again, the exact same noise, although this time you could hear a faint squeaking following the groan.

“Hamzah,” you hesitantly call out. You creeped forwards in the direction of his bedroom. The deep sounds followed by squeaking got louder as you neared his room. The door was ajar and you peeked through the crack. You almost let out a loud gasp at the sight before you, clapping your hands over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping your lips. Hamzah was stretched out on his bed, head tilted back as he thrust his cock into his hand. You shot back from the door, face reddening. You felt embarrassed for staring so unabashedly at the dark-haired man in such an intimate situation. Even so, you felt a throbbing deep in your core and you knew that if you reached down to touch your panties beneath your dress, you would be soaking wet. Slowly, mentally slapping yourself, you peered through the crack in the door again. Hamzah’s head was tilted back in pure ecstasy, pretty lips spilling whines and groans as the bed squeaked with every thrust into his hand. You watched, panties growing wetter by the second, as he reached next to him and brought a piece of fabric up to his nose, inhaling deeply and letting out a heady whine. Your eyes widened as you recognized the slip of fabric as your favorite pair of panties. The pink ones with the white lace. 

Your name spills from his lips, eyes rolling back into his head. Holy fuck. You sat on your knees, rolling your wet folds against the palm of your hand. You couldn’t believe the sight before your eyes. Your roommate—who you’ve had a crush on since moving in with him—was jerking off to you, your underwear pressed deeply into his nose. Hamzah’s hips stuttered, edging dangerously close to release.

“F-fuck, y/n,” he whimpered. “S-so good. So fucking pretty. G-gonna, gonna cum, shit.” At this desperate confession, a high-pitched whine escaped your parted lips and your eyes widened, clapping your hands over your mouth. Hamzah abruptly stopped his motions, whipping his head in the direction of the unprecedented sound. His glossy eyes met yours, fucked-out expression directly mirroring your own.

“S-shit,” he said breathlessly, stumbling out of bed and covering his erection with the sheets around his legs. You shot backwards from the door, tumbling directly into the wall. Hamzah fumbled to get pants on, and ran towards you, a pleading look in his eyes.

“Holy shit, y/n. I-I, um, I had no idea that you were home. I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t do that. Not if I knew that you were here.”

You were still sat on the floor, pink blush fast-spreading across your cheeks. You felt a coy smile tickling your lips. “Were you—” you looked up at Hamzah, feeling a dangerous rush of confidence flood your mind, “Were you jerking off to me?”

Hamzah’s eyes widened impossibly large. “I–no. I mean…no,” he said. “Definitely not.”

“Really,” you said seductively, rising up from your position and stepping closer to the trembling man. “Because…” you leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I swear I heard you say my name.” A deep red blush spread across Hamzah’s cheekbones and he swallowed audibly.

His voice lowered a decibel. “No,” he whispered. “No, I wasn’t.”

You smirked at how flustered you made him. “I didn’t take you for a liar, you know.” You pushed past the taller man into his room. The moment you enter, you felt your core throb, the smell of sweat and sex and and something purely Hamzah penetrating your nostrils. You made your way to his bed, sheets strewn carelessly, and picked up the pink underwear that had fallen to the floor in Hamzah’s rushed attempt at maintaining his dignity. You dangled the fabric from your extended pointer finger.

“So what are these then?” The panties sway from your finger, and Hamzah’s puppy-like eyes follow the cloth to and fro like a tennis match. 

“I–,” he gulped. “I don’t know how those got there.”

You stepped toward him. “So you’re really just gonna play dumb with me then, huh?” You took careful step after careful step until you were inches away from the timid, trembling man. “You’re not dumb, Hamzah.” You reached up until his glossy eyes came face-to-face with your panties. “Take them.”

Hamzah’s dumbfounded expression stared back at your own. You shifted the fabric forward, directly into his big nose, and he shakily inhaled, eyes almost rolling back into his own head. “F-fuck,” he whimpered out. Swiftly, as if they were never there in the first place, you removed the outstretched panties from his prying nostrils. The look he gave you, as his eyes slowly opened, made your legs weak and your core throb. He looked as though he would give you the world, or anything you asked, as long as he could be face-to-face with that stupid piece of cloth again.

“Tell me what you want,” you asked, voice low and seductive.

“You,” he whispered, eyes darting from your own, to the wall, to the panties still clutched in your hand, and back to your own.

You smile at his bashfulness. “A little louder,” you said, feeling cocky. You reach up to push back his dark, messy curls from his sweaty forehead.

Hamzah’s dark eyes met your own and you melted. “You…I want you. I want you so fucking bad it hurts.” You felt your core tighten. Hamzah looked at you with glossy, pleading eyes. You looked down and noticed the erection still straining in his pants. You turn around and walk to his bed, sitting on the edge. You pat the soft bedding next to you.

“Come here.” Hamzah moved at the speed of light, by the time you blinked he was sitting down next to you, hands politely together in his lap. You lean over to straddle Hamzah’s thick thighs, dress riding up, the thin cloth of your panties doing nothing to stop you from feeling his erection pressing against your wet folds. You intertwine your hands behind his neck while he looks up at you with intense adoration and devotion. Your hands cup his cheeks.

“What do you want, baby?” you ask. You reach down, beneath the waistband of his gym shorts, and grasp his hard length. Hamzah’s parted red lips elicit a whiny gasp as his large hands firmly grasp your waist. 

“I want–” he starts, barely able to string a sentence together as you begin to move your hand up and down his length. “I want to be inside you.” 

You chuckled coyly, moving your hand faster. “And what makes you think you have the right to be inside me.” Groans and gasps tumbled from Hamzah’s wet lips. His head was tilted back, a purely fucked-out expression bedazzling his beautiful face. 

“I just—,” he blissfully moaned out. “I just want to feel you.” His hands snaked up your dress, reaching up to grasp at your covered tits. His big hands connected with your sensitive nipples that were poking out through the fabric. A dirty, stupid idea shot into your head. You pull away from Hamzah, untangling yourself from his roaming hands. “W-what?” he said, confusion written all over his pretty face. 

“I don’t know,” you respond. “I’m kinda pissed at you right now. Do you know how fucking gross it is to come home to your roommate touching himself to you? Desperately jerking off, my favorite fucking pair of panties in your grimy hands. You’re a disgusting little slut, aren’t you?” Hamzah’s covered cock visibly twitched in his gym shorts. He let out a heady whimper at your vile tone and words. “Oh…” you said, a dark and naughty gleam twinkling in your eyes. “Do you like that shit? Do you like it when I call you a stupid fucking whore?” Hamzah’s hips grinded against the air, desperate for any sort of friction against his aching cock.

“I think,” you say, reaching down to pick up the pink panties you had discarded to the side, “That I don’t want a disgusting slut like you to touch me, not with those filthy fucking hands of yours.” Using the elastic of your lacy panties, you tie Hamzah’s hands together behind his back. He whimpered at your touch, the light graze of your fingers shooting electricity down his spine and into his desperate member. Once Hamzah was fully tied up, unable to move his hands to touch your body, you flung your current pair of panties off and sat back on his lap again. You reached into his pants once more, pulling his weeping cock from within his shorts. You rubbed his erection up and down your wet folds, looking down to see the soaking, wet mess you were making of his cock. You line his tip up with your hole, sliding him into your wet cunt. The stretch was unbearably pleasurable and Hamzah let out an unfiltered groan.

“Shut up,” you told him, placing your hand over his mouth. “I don’t want to hear a fucking word from you.” You began bouncing up and down on his cock, whines and moans escaping your parted lips at the fulfilling sensation deep within your cunt. Hamzah looked completely pathetic beneath you, eyes filled with desperation as he clumsily attempted to thrust up into you. You grab onto his curls, yanking as his cock hits a particularly sensitive spot deep within your cunt. Hamzah lets out another whine at the tugging sensation. Immediately, you stop your motions and slap him across the face.

“I told you to shut up,” you said roughly, voice rattling with an emotion you had never thought could possess you: dominance. And you were enjoying it. You enjoyed seeing this tall, muscular man writhe beneath your smaller body, pathetically attempting to engage and make you feel good. An idea flitted through your head. You reached down to the floor and grabbed your discarded panties. Squeezing his cheeks together in your hands, you opened up his mouth and shoved your panties in, effectively gagging him. Hamzah let out a muffled groan at the feeling of the used cloth being shoved between his lips. Hips jerking into you now at a frenzied pace. The increased speed of his cock inside you felt like heaven, and you let out a high-pitched moan, collapsing into his shoulders. You rode his cock violently, Hamzah’s pathetic face reflecting your own shining pleasure. Hamzah’s hips began to stutter, his gagged moans becoming increasingly frequent as his eyes fluttered closed, and you knew he was close. You reached down to touch your clit, hoping to reach your climax at the same time. The combined pleasure of touching your clit and the sweet stretch of Hamzah’s cock hitting that delicious spot deep inside you made your head tip back in ecstasy. Hamzah’s eyes widened and you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

“Do you want to cum, baby?” you asked sweetly, rocking your hips softly against his. He nodded his head aggressively. Your walls fluttered around his cock, and Hamzah looked in pain, nose scrunched and eyes squeezed shut. You realized, as you continued to rock your hips, that he was waiting for your permission to cum.

“Oh,” you say sweetly. “You want my permission, hmm?” You giggle softly as Hamzah tries to talk, the soft fabric in his mouth preventing him from doing so. “You can cum, baby, I want you to.” At this admission, Hamzah’s face tightens and his hips stutter and begin to shake. The feeling of his cock twitching inside you, spurting cum against your tight walls, sent you over the edge. Hamzah’s chest was heaving as he watched you writhe on top of him, your pleasure furthering his own. You let out a high-pitched whine as you come down from your high. Hamzah’s eyes were wide, glossy, and pathetic as they met your own. You pulled the pair of panties out of his mouth and he sucked in a deep breath. You slid off his length and reached behind him, untying your panties from around his wrists. He let out a sigh as his hands became free, rubbing them together to recirculate the blood flow.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, suddenly feeling a deep sense of embarrassment. “I’m sorry! That was fucking crazy! I didn’t at all mean to take it that far.”

Hamzah looked up at you, a playful smile spreading across his face. “Are you kidding me? You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to do that with you.”

“Yeah! But…like that?” you respond. “I-I mean…I slapped you. I feel like I took it too far.” You move to leave the room, embarrassment bleeding all over your face in a deep red color. Hamzah reached you in an instant, arms wrapping around your waist from behind, head resting on your shoulder. He placed a sweet kiss on your neck.

“Trust me,” he said. “That was exactly what I wanted.”

[mononijikayu]

live updates — gojo satoru.

As the game became less of a focus and more of a background challenge, your Satoru started chatting about his week like he usually does. He grins as he starts talking.  “Man, I really miss home, baby.” he said, his usual bravado softening. “I miss our bed! You get lost in the sheets and we get lost in the sheets together!” Satoru immediately saw the flood of the comments. His face immediately turns scarlet as he scrolls.  You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction. He waved his hand, “Hey comments, that was a really sweet comment! That isn’t innuendo, keep it PG!”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, slice of life, light hearted, domestic, romance, long distance relationship, pet names (baby, doll, baby doll, etc), banter, flirting, humour, happy ending, hurt/comfort, pining, weariness, depictions of long distance relationship, depiction of pining, depiction of weariness, depiction of slice of life, actor/model! gojo, non-celebrity! reader, this is how deep gojo would love you;

WORD COUNT: 5.9k words

NOTE: the people have chosen and people have chosen gojo as the second rank for the poll. i thought of this as a parallel to hey lover series!!! one can only wonder what sort of lover gojo would be, especially with the type of schedule he would have had as an actor. but i love to think that gojo satoru is the type to make everything work, even in long distance. also a lot of this was inspired by kim seokjin of bts playing games on weverse live and i hope yall enjoy that too. anyway, i love you all so much!!! please take care, keep safe. its getting colder!!! mwah <3

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IT WAS HARD DATING SOMEONE WHO WAS FAMOUS. But it was your life. Gojo Satoru, your famous singer and actor boyfriend, had been booked for an extended stint abroad, and the thought of not seeing him for weeks weighed heavily on you. 

Though he’d send the occasional text or call when he could, you both knew it wasn’t enough. And especially for him — who was more clingy than you were. 

But one of those nights, during one of his brief calls, your beloved boyfriend Satoru had finally proposed a plan to you as you were laying on your bed alone.

“I know you’re worried about me being away for so long. So… how about I do a livestream every week? I’ll play some silly games, and you can see for yourself that I’m alive and well."

Your brows furrowed at him. "But Satoru, your privacy? Don't you—"

"It's okay, baby. I don't mind. Plus, I know you’ll love watching me lose miserably. And you know, everyone knows we’re dating anyway. I might as well make a declaration of my love for you like this.”

You didn't think that you could argue about what he wanted.

But you can't help but feel warmth when he kisses your check.

Gojo Satoru has never loved much of life as much as he did you.

And somehow, you fall in love with him hard, again.

The following week, true to his word, your phone pinged with a notification: GojoSatoruLIVE – Silly Games & Updates. You clicked the link, your screen filling with your boyfriend’s signature grin. That had made you smile for the first time in a while.

“Hey doll!” he greeted playfully. “Miss me? I know it’s been tough, but I thought this would make things easier. So, every week, I’ll be here, streaming just for you.”

Week 1 

THE FIRST WEEK FEELS EASY. Gojo Satoru started off confidently with a game that seemed laughably easy. One where you had to stack blocks without knocking them over. As the screen showed colorful blocks teetering precariously, he flashed a grin at the camera.

“Easy peasy, baby!” he boasted, cracking his knuckles like he was preparing for some grand feat. With the first few blocks, he was doing fine…..until, naturally, the tower began to wobble.

You could see the moment his confidence faltered, his eyes widening comically. "No, no, no—hey, hey, hey! Stay up, stay up—"

The tower collapsed in a spectacular fashion, blocks scattering across the screen with dramatic sound effects. Satoru groaned, slapping his forehead. 

“Alright, maybe not so easy…..” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as if the game had personally insulted him. “But don’t worry, I’m just warming up! Next round, guys. Trust! This will finally be a guaranteed win. Put your trust in the strongest! Baby, believe in your boyfie!”

Spoiler: He did not win the next round.

After the third round of failed block stacking, with this time with the tower collapsing before he even got halfway through, Satoru finally gave up, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms dramatically. He lets out a heavy sigh and takes a moment, moving forward on his PC.

“Okay, clearly this game is rigged, baby.” he declared, throwing a hand toward the screen. “They knew I’d be playing, so they made it impossible. But don’t worry, I’m too talented to be brought down by a bunch of blocks.”

Between his attempts to master the game, he filled you in on his week. He smiled through it, happily so. You missed how much he would yap to you. It’s alright, seeing him yap over the screen. But it was different, when he’s next to you. 

“The shoots have been exhausting. You wouldn’t believe how many times they made me retake a shot where I’m just standing still. Apparently, my natural charm is ‘too distracting,’ so they wanted me to tone it down.” 

He shot the camera a playful smirk, knowing full well that toning down anything wasn’t in his nature. Gojo Satoru’s charm was always going to hit. But you know he plays it for you more than anything. The rest of the world does not know how killer that charm is in the morning sun, while beside him.

“But the crew’s great, though!” he continued, glancing at the screen as another round of blocks came tumbling down. “They’re really professional—don’t get me wrong. But do you think it’s normal for someone to eat six plates of pasta for lunch? Because I might’ve done that.” 

He threw in a sheepish grin, as if he wasn’t fully aware of his own ridiculous appetite. “What can I say? I ordered too much food. But it was amazing! I need to take you there when I’m back.”

Every time he glanced at the camera, it felt like he was speaking directly to you, his playful tone and teasing smile making the miles between you seem insignificant.

"Oh, and don’t think I forgot, baby. You should be prepared! Next time you have to play this with me! Bet you can’t beat my high score."

Given that his “high score” was barely two blocks stacked, you couldn’t help but laugh at the challenge.

Before signing off, Satoru dramatically wiped his forehead as if the session had been physically taxing.

“Whew. Alright, I think I’ve done enough damage here. I’ll work on my block-stacking skills for next week. And by ‘work on’ I mean completely forget this game exists. But, hey, at least I look good no matter what I’m doing, right?”

He flashed one last charming grin at the camera. “See you next week, doll. And don’t worry, my beloved doll. I’m alive, full of pasta, and missing you terribly.”

And with that, the screen faded to black, leaving you with the warmth of his silliness and the comfort that, no matter how far apart you both were, your Satoru will always found a way to make you smile.

Week 2

HE MESSAGED YOU WHEN HE WAS GOING ON LIVE. And of course, you already had some delivery food and some wine ready, watching your lover start it all up. Gojo Satoru kicked off the livestream with a smirk, this time ready to tackle a racing game. He looked way too confident for someone who spent last week losing to virtual blocks. 

“Alright, this game? I’m winning first place, no question!” he said, pointing at the screen like it was already a done deal.

The race started off well for your boyfriend. Satoru’s cute character zipped off the starting line like a pro. He was looking confident about all of it. He was smirking beyond compare. He looked too handsome.

“Look at that speed! I’m practically untouchable. Ka-chow, baby! I am speeeedddd!” he boasted, dramatically leaning into each turn as if that would help his in-game car. For a moment, it seemed like he was actually doing okay.

Then he hit a banana peel.

“WHAT?!” His car spun out, and his screen lit up with the mocking sound of other players zooming past him. Satoru’s jaw dropped. “Who put that there? Who’s sabotaging me? What the hell? How am I not winning? It was so close!” 

He glanced at the camera, his dramatic flair fully on display. “Alright, alright, that’s fine. I’m just building suspense. You don’t wanna see me win too easily, right?”

But then came the red shells. One after another. His car spun out more times than you could count, and by the time he finally crossed the finish line, he was dead last. 

A giant “12th PLACE” flashed on the screen.

He stared at it for a long moment, letting the defeat sink in before dramatically flopping back in his chair. You giggled at his reaction. Satoru pursed his lips, looking at the camera, eyes furrowed with disappointment.

“Okay, maybe these games are rigged, baby!” he sighed, pouting like a kid who’d lost at hide-and-seek. “This is not a fair play game, game company!”

He threw his hands up in mock surrender, laughing at himself. “Who am I kidding? This game’s obviously cheating. No one’s that bad at driving… except maybe Kento. His driving is really really bad, guys. Girls, guys, gays, non-conforming friends! You should find a good driver if you don’t like his designated driver for the rest of your life!”

Before he could dwell on his loss any longer, you heard a crash off-camera, followed by giggles. Satoru barely had time to react before his door burst open, and barged into the room were Itadori Yuji and Kugisaki Nobara, looking like they were on a mission to cause chaos.

“Yo, yo, sensei! Gojooooooooo!” Yuji called out, grinning as he dove into your boyfriend’s bed. “Heard you were losing, so we came to help!”

“More like witnessing the disaster. This is hilarious!” Nobara added with a mischievous smirk, folding her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.

Satroru tried to maintain his composure, waving them off. “I’m not losing, I’m just… learning the course.”

Yuji peered at the screen, pointing at the humiliating “12th PLACE” graphic still displayed. “Uh-huh. Looks like you’ve learned nothing.”

Satoru groaned, dramatically dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, fine! The game might not be my strongest skill. But have you seen me act?”

He shot them both a grin, trying to distract from his gaming disaster. “Photoshoots in the morning, Jujutsu Kaisen shoots all day, meetings all night. You know, someone has to look good while you two slack off.”

“Yeah, yeah, big shot.” Nobara rolled her eyes. “But seriously, how are you this bad? It’s a racing game. Even Yuji could win this!”

Yuji, looking offended, gave her a nudge. “Hey, I’m great at racing games!”

Satoru waved his hand dismissively. “Okay, enough out of you two! I’ll do better next time, promise. But let’s be real here, kiddos! You don’t come here for the gaming skills, you come here for the charm.” 

He winked at the camera towards you, clearly trying to salvage his bruised ego. “Ain’t that right, doll?”

You giggled at his little flying kiss soon after. 

Your boyfriend’s really the cutest person.

And as he smiled, you know that his ego recovered.

Meanwhile, Yuji had already grabbed a controller, grinning like he was about to show up his mentor. “How about I show you how it’s done?”

Nobara crossed her arms and nodded at Satoru. “Yeah, maybe let the kids handle this. You stick to acting pretty and being on time to set for once.”

Satoru’s bright eyes widened dramatically. “Oh, on time? Me? Never!”

As the chaos continued with Yuji and Nobara heckling him every time he lost, Gojo Satoru somehow managed to throw in a few updates about his week to you. 

“The photoshoots are still insane, though.” he said over the sound of Yuji crashing his own car into a wall. “The pictures are going on the wall again, doll!”

“Early mornings, late-night meetings… But I’m hanging in there. Mostly because of this.” He motioned to the livestream. “You guys and you, my baby doll. You all keep me going. But well, my baby doll the most, guys. That’s my baby.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “You’re so sappy, bro.”

“Yeah, cause that’s my baby, kid! Sorry you and Maki aren’t—”

“I’m gonna strangle you!” She glared.

Satoru only laughed and Nobara rolled her eyes, but more playful this time. Even with Yuji tackling him from the side in an attempt to “help” and Nobara giving snarky commentary on his every move, your beloved Satoru never lost that playful grin. He shot you one last wink before wrapping things up.

“Alright, I gotta deal with these two. See you next week. And trust me, I’ll win something by then. Maybe.”

But as the camera faded out, you had a feeling his streak of terrible gaming luck—and hilarious weekly chaos—was far from over. You closed your computer and heard the sound of your phone. You smiled even wider. You gotta comfort your winter bear and his pouty self.

Week 3 

YOUR BOYFRIEND WAS BACK FOR MORE. And you were of course, here once again. You smiled watching his face surface on your screen. Satoru quickly started the stream with his signature grin, announcing his latest challenge for his weekly check ins. And that tonight, ladies, gents and non–binary folks, is this new puzzle game. 

“Alright, baby, everyone else in this live, this one should be easy. I mean, c’mon, I’m a genius. I’ve got six eyes and an IQ off the charts.” he quipped, wiggling his fingers like he was casting some sort of brainy spell. 

He clicked through the game’s introduction with the confidence of someone who definitely hadn’t been last place in a racing game just the week before.

For the first few minutes, Satoru seemed to be doing fine, solving the initial puzzles like a pro. “See? Easy stuff. I could do this in my sleep!” he bragged.

But then came a more complicated challenge, involving color-coded switches and hidden doors. That’s when the trouble started.

“Wait… why won’t this thing move?” Satoru muttered, squinting at the screen. He tried a few more random clicks, then groaned. “Okay, clearly the game is intimidated by my genius.” 

He furiously tapped at his keyboard to no avail. “This is just me taking a break from being smart all the time. Gotta give the game a fighting chance, y’know?” 

He shot the camera a playful smirk, but you could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to solve the puzzle. “Nah, actually I’d win!”

Minutes ticked by, and Satoru was still stuck on the same puzzle. His face was entirely frozen on his focus. But then his face fell and frowned.  He finally leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll figure it out… eventually.” He gave a dramatic sigh, like the weight of his own intelligence was too much to bear. “But don’t worry, I’ve got this. Probably.”

As the game became less of a focus and more of a background challenge, your Satoru started chatting about his week like he usually does. He grins as he starts talking. 

“Man, I really miss home, baby.” he said, his usual bravado softening. “I miss our bed! You get lost in the sheets and we get lost in the sheets together!”

Satoru immediately saw the flood of the comments.

His face immediately turns scarlet as he scrolls. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction.

He waved his hand, “Hey comments, that was a really sweet comment! That isn’t innuendo, keep it PG!”

“The hotel’s nice, sure, but it’s not the same without you around.” He paused, glancing at the camera like he was talking directly to you. “The bed’s too big for one person, you know?”

There was a rare, genuine vulnerability in his voice, just for a moment, before he quickly shifted back to his usual playful tone. “But hey, I’m doing fine. And this, what we do here, what I do for you….this makes it easier. Talking to you like this after missing you so much, baby. This makes it all worth it. I can’t wait to be home, but yeah, I…I treasure this.”

Right on cue, there was a loud crash from somewhere behind him. Satoru jumped, whipping around in his chair. “What the—?”

The door to his hotel room flew open, and in strolled Ieiri Shoko and Geto Suguru, looking like they’d just come from causing trouble elsewhere. Shoko had a cigarette dangling from her lips, her usual cool smirk in place, while Suguru just raised a casual hand in greeting.

“Yo, Satoru!” Suguru said, settling into a nearby chair like he owned the place.

Satoru groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Ugh! Do you two ever knock?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Shoko teased, blowing out a puff of smoke. She glanced at the camera, noticing the livestream for the first time. “Oh, you’re streaming? Hey there!”

Her eyes lit up as she leaned closer to the camera, her smirk growing wider. “So, this is the famous partner, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you, darling.”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed, his smile faltering just slightly. “Shoko, don’t—”

But it was too late. Shoko winked at the camera. “You know, I’ve always thought Gojo was a bit out of his league with you. I mean, you could do better, right? Maybe someone a little more… mature?” She gave a slow, suggestive smile, clearly enjoying herself.

Satoru’s mouth fell open in horror. “Shoko, stop! Stop rizzing my pookie!” he warned, though his voice was more panicked than commanding. He glanced nervously at the chat.

But then you, ever the tease, decided to play along. You typed a comment back: "Well, Shoko, I don’t know... maybe you should take me out sometime and we’ll see."

Gojo’s reaction was immediate. He nearly fell out of his chair, his face going from cocky to full-on betrayed. “WHAT?! No! You—don’t flirt back!” 

He was waving his arms wildly, trying to contain the chaos. “Baby, don’t do this! I can’t lose you like this! I’m not gonna win over a lesbian, oh my god—”

Meanwhile, Shoko was laughing so hard she had to wipe a tear from her eye. “Ooooh, now this I like!” she said, blowing a kiss to the camera. “You’re my new favorite person.”

Suguru, watching the entire scene unfold with a bemused smile, finally chimed in. “This is more entertaining than your puzzle game, Satoru. Maybe we should join your streams more often.”

Satoru looked like he was on the verge of losing it. “I’m being attacked! Betrayed! By everyone! This is treason!” 

He pointed an accusing finger at the camera at you. He was sure you were giggling (you were). “And you—you’re flirting with Shoko?! I’m the charming boyfriend here, not her!”

Shoko gave him a pat on the head, like he was an overexcited puppy. “Don’t be so jealous, Satoru. It’s cute.”

Satoru dramatically slumped in his chair, groaning like his entire world had been turned upside down. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

With one last exasperated glance at the camera, Satoru sighed. “Alright, next week’s stream will be Shoko-free. I can’t take any more of this. I can’t be single because of Shoko stealing my lover!” he muttered, still pouting.

But before the stream ended, you could see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Even with all the teasing, the playful banter, and the flirting with Shoko, Your Satoru still looked like he was having the time of his life. And that, more than anything, made the distance between you feel just a little bit smaller.

Week 4

ONCE AGAIN, YOU SAT ON YOUR BED AND WAITED FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND’S FACE TO SURFACE. After a few seconds, Gojo Satoru started the stream with his usual swagger and that massive grin on his face.

You didn’t know what he had planned this time, he hadn’t told you. He kept saying that you should wait and be patient for today. So, you let him have that time to surprise you. Your boyfriend after all just knows how to make things enjoyable for you.

“So, I’ve been thinking, baby…..” he began, leaning closer to the camera with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Why keep all this awesomeness to myself when I can humiliate my friends in front of you, too?” 

He gestured off-screen, and a moment later, Geto Suguru appeared, settling into a chair beside him.

“Hey, hey!” Geto Suguru said with a casual wave. “I’m here to destroy Satoru’s fragile ego.”

Satoru laughed, tossing an arm around Geto’s shoulders. “Oh, please. I’m the one who invited you so I could have some real competition. You’re just here for moral support.” 

He booted up a multiplayer game, something fast-paced and competitive, and the two of them were off to the races—literally.

Even with Suguru beside him, Satoru couldn’t help but turn to the camera every few minutes, his grin widening each time he won a round. After each victory, he’d shoot you a wink or blow a kiss. 

“See that? Just for you, baby.” he’d say with a smug grin. “I’m winning like this. I am a champion for love, obviously. For my baby doll! Suguru is just here to make me look better, don't you think?"

Suguru snorted. “Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.”

As the game went on, the banter between them was relentless. Whenever Suguru would take the lead, Gojo Satoru would dramatically cry out in defeat. “This is a betrayal of our friendship!” he’d declare, throwing his hands in the air. 

But then, when Satoru inevitably snatched victory back, he’d lean in toward the camera, shooting another flirty wink your way. “I win again. See? All for you, baby.”

But beneath all the fun and games, you could sense the subtle shift. Despite his usual bravado, there was a heaviness in Satoru's weary eyes that he couldn’t completely hide. 

He masked it with jokes and over-the-top celebrations, but the long hours were starting to take a toll on him. His posture slouched just a little more than usual, and there was a tiredness in his voice when he wasn’t cracking jokes.

In between rounds, Satoru gave his usual updates, trying to keep things light. “The shoots have been intense, baby.” he admitted, running a hand through his messy white hair. “Long days, early mornings—nothing I can’t handle, though.” 

He flashed his signature grin, but there was a flicker of weariness behind it. “I’ve got another shoot tomorrow, but I’m surviving. It’s just… ya know… typical world-class star stuff.”

Suguru glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone, Satoru. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Satoru waved him off with a laugh. “Oh, c’mon, I’m invincible. Sleep is for mortals. Besides, I’ll be home soon, I promise.” He said the last part softer, his gaze flicking toward the camera, just for a moment, and you could tell he was talking to you. “I can cuddle and sleep more like that!”

There was a beat of silence, an unspoken acknowledgment that the distance was hard on both of you. But before the mood could dip too far, Satoru jumped back into character, clapping his hands together. “Alright, enough of that! Let’s get back to the important stuff—me kicking Suguru’s butt.”

Suguru rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, blue lagoon.”

They dove back into the game, the playful rivalry picking up where it left off. But through all the chaos, you could tell that your boyfriend was pushing through for you, making sure the livestream stayed fun, even if he was running on fumes.

As the stream neared its end, Satoru paused for a moment, turning to the camera with a more genuine smile. One that you know that was one that was eagerly hopeful.

Just a little more time, he'll be home. This will end soon. He'll be in your arms. He just has to be patient. He just has to be strong. Gojo Satoru will do it. He'll do it for you.

“Thanks for sticking with me through all this.” he said, his tone a little softer now. “I know I’m far away, but I’m doing my best to be here every week. And hey, just a little longer, and I’ll be home.”

Suguru, never one to miss an opportunity, gave him a nudge. “You gonna blow another kiss or what? The fans demand it. But I'm pretty sure your partner deserves it more.”

Satoru grinned, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. One more for the road.” He leaned in, blowing a dramatic kiss to the camera before signing off with a wink. “See you next week, babe. And I’ll try not to embarrass myself too much.”

But as the screen faded to black, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter how exhausted he was, Gojo  Satoru would always find a way to make you feel like you were right there with him. And you wish you could reach for him and hug him and love him.

Week 5

YOU COULD TELL THE FATIGUE IS GETTING TO HIM. Gojo Satoru appeared on the screen, looking a little rough around the edges. His normally energetic presence was dimmed, and the steam from a mug of hot tea curled lazily into the air. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes before flashing the camera a tired grin. 

“Okay, I’ll admit it—I’m running on fumes today!” he said with a chuckle. “But I couldn’t skip out on our weekly thing. You’d worry too much if I didn’t show, right?”

He pulled up a simple, relaxing game. A rare choice for your boyfriend. He doesn’t have patience sometimes for the low-stakes and slow games, clearly not aiming for any impressive wins this time around. It was a farming simulator, of all things. 

“Thought I’d try my hand at growing virtual crops since, you know, I’m such an agricultural genius, baby.” he joked, though the usual punch behind his words wasn’t quite there.

Despite his exhaustion, Satoru made an effort to keep things light. As his character in the game wandered around aimlessly through the area, he started to give you some of the small updates about his life again between sips of peppermint tea.

“The shoots have been brutal this week. Lots of action scenes, lots of stunts... and my stunt double called in sick, so guess who’s been throwing himself through walls all week?” 

He gave a halfhearted laugh, but you could tell the long days were catching up to him. “But I'm not one to give up. I’ll do my best, baby!”

Every few minutes, though, when the tiredness seemed to pull him down, Satoru would catch himself. His gaze would flick to the camera, and he’d muster up that bright, reassuring smile—the one you loved. 

“Don’t worry about me, alright?” he’d say, his voice soft but playful. “I’m tougher than I look. I’ll be home before you know it.”

There was something endearing about the way he refused to let you see just how worn out he was. He’d fumble through the game, occasionally getting distracted and letting his crops wither, but he didn’t seem to mind.

The game wasn’t the point, it never was. For him, it was just a reason to be there, to share some part of his life with you, even from miles away. He wanted nothing more than to know that he's making you smile on the other side of the world, that he's with you even when he's not beside you.

Midway through the stream, he leaned back and sighed, glancing off-camera for a moment before turning his attention back to you. “You know, these weekly streams… they’re the best part of my week right now.” 

His voice was quieter, more sincere now. “I know it’s silly, playing these dumb games just to check in, but it makes me feel like we’re not so far apart. I miss you, baby doll. Miss you so so bad.”

For a second, the cracks in his usual bravado showed. His weariness, the toll of being away for so long, all of it flickered across his face. But then, just as quickly, he covered it up with another grin. You know he did that, just for you. 

“But hey, no need to get all sappy and sad about it. I’ll be back soon, and I’ll cook you that terrible breakfast you love so much, baby doll. But don't worry, my coffee brew will make up for all of it!”

Even though the stream was shorter than usual, it felt like a lifeline—not just for you, but for him too. These weekly check-ins had become more than just updates; for you or for him.

No, they were more than that. They were a way for both of you to stay grounded, to share a piece of normalcy despite the distance. And no matter how drained he was, Gojo Satoru never failed to show up. It was his way of saying, "I'm okay. We're okay. We always will be, because this is love."

As the stream wound down, Satoru waved to the camera with a tired but genuine smile. “Alright, that’s all for tonight. Sorry it’s a short one, but I’ll make it up to you next week. Maybe I’ll find a game I’m actually good at soon enough, baby.” he teased.

Then, as always, he ended the stream with the same words, his voice softer than usual, like a promise he was determined to keep. “Soon, doll. I’ll be back soon.”

And with that, the screen faded to black, leaving you with the warmth of his voice lingering in your mind and the quiet reassurance that, no matter how far away he was, Gojo Satoru was still finding his way back to you.

Week 6

HE HASN’T LET GO OF YOU SINCE HE CAME HOME. Somehow, your beloved boyfriend had become overly attached to you after being gone for more than five weeks.

You didn’t mind, though. You missed him too much. And now that you have him all to yourself, you were just happy to make him happy, to indulge him. It was your turn to be his penicillin after a long suffering in parting. 

That was what you were doing as you joined him for his new little live. Your chair leaned closer to his as the feed started to broadcast. And of course, with all the energy in him — your beloved boyfriend starts the stream with an excited yell.

"Guess who’s finally home, yall!" Satoru practically bounced in his chair, dragging you into the frame beside him. His arm was slung over your shoulders, and his grin was so wide it was almost cartoonish. "This lucky boy, hah-hah!" 

“I’m back with my one and only, guys. Best day of my life! And the first thing I’m doing to celebrate? Playing games with my better half. How lucky am I?”

He leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, throwing a wink at the camera. You giggle as the blush became evident on your cheeks. He seems satisfied knowing he's made you blush like that in front of millions.

“Don’t be jealous, everyone. I know you’ve missed this face, but now it’s all theirs.”

The comments section immediately exploded with his castmates popping in.

YujiItadori: “Let’s gooooo! The dream team’s together again!”

NobaraK: “Bet they’re cheating, already ganging up on us before the game even starts.”

Shoko: “I didn’t tune in to watch Gojo. Move over so we can see the real star of the stream.”

Megumi: "I can't believe they love him so much, they're staying like that."

Satoru read Shoko’s comment out loud with a laugh. “Ah, Shoko, ever the comedian. You’ll have to settle for watching me kick your butt in this game, though.” 

Then he read Megumi's comment. He leaned in and then narrows his eyes. "You just hate true love Megumi!"

You smiled at him. "He's a lot, but I love him!"

"They love me, ah!" Satoru says dramatically, starting to act like he was hit by the arrow of love. He slumps on the back of his gaming chair. "I am more in love!"

"Oh, Satoru, be careful." You smiled at him, tapping his arm softly. "The game's about to start."

He turned to you as he leans forward. Satoru starts fumbling wit his own gaming controller with a smirk. “Ready to show these amateurs how it’s done?”

But before you could even pick up your own controller, you were sure that you heard the notification sound. Soon enough, you saw the new comment popped up on the screen. It was from Shoko. 

Shoko: “Actually, I just wanted to say your hair looks amazing today, babes. Oh, and by the way. I’m free tonight if you wanna hang out. I’m nearby, if you wanna go clubbing.”

You burst out laughing, quickly typing back as you talk it out loud. “Thanks, Shoko! Maybe we can grab drinks later. Satoru doesn’t mind, do you?” You shot Satoru a teasing look, eyes glinting with mischief.

Satoru froze, his playful grin faltering for just a second before he shot a mock glare at you. “Excuse me?” He leaned toward the camera dramatically, addressing Shoko directly. 

You giggle. “It would be fun! Shoko thinks I’m pretty! You have that in common, we’ll get along!”

“What is this? Flirting with my partner on my livestream? Rude.” He shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “First, they steal my heart, and now you’re trying to steal them from me, too? At least give me a chance to enjoy being back home!”

You snickered, leaning into his shoulder. “Shoko’s just appreciating what she sees. Can you blame her?”

Shoko: “Exactly. Someone around here has to appreciate your beauty for what it is, babes. And it ain’t Gojo Satoru!”

Satoru groaned loudly, slapping a hand to his forehead. “I’ve been home for five minutes, and I’m already fighting for my life.” He glanced at the camera, eyes wide in mock horror. “Help me, chat. This is supposed to be our time, and now I’m stuck playing third wheel in my own relationship.”

The comments section erupted with laughter.

And of course, a lot of teasing for Satoru.

You grinned even wider at him.

NobaraK: “Shoko is winning the game and she’s not even playing.”

Megumi: “This is why I don’t watch these streams. It’s always chaos.”

YujiItadori: “This is amazing. Gojo Satoru who?”

Determined to regain control, Satoru pulled you closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he looked straight at the computer camera. Your boyfriend's face was certainly echoing that childish pout was all too evident on his features.

“Alright, enough of this betrayal!” he said with a grin. “Let’s focus on what’s important for all of the world’s happiness and that’s us destroying everyone in this game, together. The real dream team.” 

He lifted your hand with the controller, making you both move in sync to start the game. But even as the game started, the playful banter didn’t stop. Satoru kept glancing at the chat, where Shoko continued to drop flirty comments for you, egging you on.

You of course couldn't help but match her energy and played along. As the game continued, you were periodically sending back winks and typing responses that made Satoru groan even louder and you stopped, putting it down with a laugh. 

“Why do you enjoy tormenting me like this?” he whined, though his smile never left his face.

You just grinned. “Because it’s fun. And you’re cute when you pout.”

He paused the game for a second, dramatically clutching his chest. “Cute? I’m not supposed to be cute! I’m supposed to be hot and cool and, like, super mysterious!”

Without missing a beat, you leaned closer to the mic and said in a low voice, “Shoko, he’s not mysterious at all. He leaves his socks everywhere and talks in his sleep.”

Satoru’s bright eyes widened in mock betrayal, and the chat exploded again.

Shoko: “Noted. Definitely better off hanging out with you later.”

YujiItadori: “HIS SOCKS??? WHAT????”

“You’re supposed to be on my side, baby!” Satoru cried, laughing so hard he could barely hold his controller. “I just got back, and this is what I come home to—slander!”

But beneath all the playful chaos and teasing, there was a warmth between you both that even the camera couldn’t miss. Every time Satoru glanced at you, he couldn't help but fold easily.

There was a softness in his eyes, a kind of quiet relief that he was finally home. And even though the flirting and jokes kept flying, it was obvious that he was just happy to be here, with you, sharing this silly moment.

As the stream wrapped up, Satoru threw an arm around your shoulders again, flashing a final grin at the camera.

“Alright, guys, it’s been real. But I think it’s time for me to kick back and enjoy being home with my partner. And Homewrecker Ieiri Shoko, this is for you!” he pointed at the screen with a playful glare. “Hands off.”

He winked, pulling you closer as you both waved goodbye to the viewers. “See you next week—if Shoko doesn’t steal my thunder completely by then.”

Jujutsu Kaisen's Satoru Gojo Brodcasts For A Whole Month For His Partner — Insiders said, 'He's Hopelessly In Love' with them!

In an unexpected turn of events, actor and singer Satoru Gojo has taken the internet by storm, not for his acting chops or musical talent, but for his endearing displays of affection towards his partner during his gaming livestreams.

The mega superstar who has always been more private about his life out of work is now screaming from the rooftops. He screams for his love towards them. And he's not going to stop.

The actor in a short few weeks have become a viral sensation as fans and media outlets alike can’t get enough of how "hopelessly in love" he is.

What started as casual, late-night gaming sessions on Twitch quickly turned into a phenomenon as viewers noticed something beyond the usual gaming commentary. Gojo Satoru’s soft, love-struck behavior whenever his partner joined the chat was heartwarming to his audience.

Whether it was him gushing about his partner’s smile, dedicating his game victories to them, or just pausing the action to talk sweetly, Gojo Satoru’s streams became must-watch content.

One memorable moment that caught the attention of fans worldwide was when Gojo, in the middle of an intense match, suddenly smiled and blushed, saying, “I just got a text from my partner. Everything stops when they message me.”

This short clip has since gone viral among the netizens and especially with his global group of fans. This has been received with immense positivity and love, with fans dubbing him “the ultimate simp” in the most affectionate way possible.

It’s not just the fans who have been swept away by Gojo’s open adoration. Major media outlets have picked up on the story, with headlines like “Satoru Gojo: Hollywood’s Ultimate Romantic” and “Inside the Heart of a Superstar: Gojo Satoru is Head Over Heels.”

And one good bet, with his massive popularity, he would go beyond viral. Indeed, that's what happened! Social media is flooded with clips from his livestreams, showing him talking about his love for his beloved partner with a soft grin that could melt anyone’s heart.

"I never thought I’d be watching an action game to see a rom-com play out!" one fan commented on Twitter.

Another added. "Forget the game, I’m here for Gojo Satoru being jealous about Shoko Ieiri flirting with his partner!”

In interviews, Gojo Satoru has remained unbothered by the sudden attention. “I just love them, really.” he said, shrugging with a sheepish grin when asked about the viral clips. "They’re my everything, so yeah, I’m a little obsessed."

Fans have now turned into self-proclaimed shippers of Gojo Satoru and his partner, creating fan art, videos, and even shipping hashtags. While Gojo Satoru continues his career as a heartthrob in film and music, it’s his real-life love story that’s currently winning over the internet with a happily devoted live update.

[pinksugarscrub]

Compromise

Hobie Brown x fem! reader

This is my response to the 2024 elections

word count: 1,065

~

The sky managed to encapsulate your mood perfectly. Dreary and dark with clouds soaked to the brim like sponges.

Tick

The city was surprisingly quiet. The bodega closed and Midtown students stuck indoors due to the incoming storm

Tick

You hated how quiet it was.

Tick

With a loud sigh you press down harder on the volume button. Music flooding your ears at a decibel that surely wouldn’t be healthy in the long run.

She meant well. Gwen always meant well you reasoned but that didn’t make the ache in your chest lessen.

Cold and half eaten, your dinner rests on the counter. A loud tick! managing to slip past the chorus of your favorite song.

It was his song first.

With a groan you switch to another song. A different song.

‘What if you’re too different?’

The ache in your heart makes itself known again. Traitor.

‘What do you mean?’ you laugh awkwardly.

Gwen’s eyes furrow and as much as MJ wants to speak up, she doesn’t. Just keeps her head down while idly skimming through the popcorn.

‘I mean, think about it.’ Gwen shifts. Facing you while you prepared another batch of hot chocolate. ‘He goes to protests. You do petitions.’

‘I don’t see a problem with that,’ you answer. Confused as you watch the milk bubble.

‘Ok, let me rephrase. He’s determined in his views while you are the least confrontational person I know.’

MJ cringes as she crushes a kernel between her fingers.

‘What are you going to do when you have a disagreement?’ Gwen asks.

‘Look, what are you getting at?’ you huff. Glaring down at the chocolate tablet as you plop it in the pot.

‘I don’t think this guy is right for you.’

The room goes quiet. The cozy atmosphere you worked so hard on achieving vaporizing into thin air.

This was supposed to be a relaxing night after exams. It was supposed to be an escape with your friends. Not…this.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Gwen starts. Fingers digging into the couch cushions. ‘Hobie sounds like a really sweet guy. I'm just…worried.’

‘Gwen maybe we should-’

‘No,’ you interrupt. Glancing over to MJ’s hunched form. ‘I want to hear what she has to say. Go on, say it.’

The words sound so much more condescending than you had intended but there’s an anger bubbling alongside the milk.

Gwen, never one to back down, straightens in her seat. A stubbornness you praise but now feels like a nuisance.

‘He’s anarchist! You’re a pacifist. You may want the same things but you will both do very different things to get them.’

‘You guys.’ MJ’s voice strains to be heard above the hurt. ‘Please.’

‘I don’t want you to lose your dignity over someone just because you want to please him.’ Gwen continues as her eyes narrow. ‘You’re already listening to punk music which you used to detest and what about the clothes you’re starting to buy?’

‘What about it?’

‘It isn’t you!’

‘I’m allowed to change my mind!’

‘Are you?’ She scoffs, ‘or is he doing that for you?’

You jump as a loud boom shakes the picture frames on your wall. Frantic you slid off your seat to place some distance between you and the balcony window.

One drop turns to two. Then three. Then it’s pouring so hard you feel like water will stream through any second to create an entirely new ecosystem in your living room.

Maybe the reason you were so angry, was because you knew she was right.

Slowly settling on the edge of the couch you stare at gloomy New York and she stares right back. Taunting you. Mocking you. Asking when it was your turn to break and let the tears fall.

You’re too different.

One hiccup turns to two. Then three. Then tears roll down your face while water trickles down the window pane.

You never should have yelled. You were just angry and rightfully so but Gwen was worried. She always worries. She always means well.

The lock to your apartment turns. Wet boots squishing against the welcome mat.

“Lovie it’s dangerous to leave your door unlocked. If I had been a…”

Hobie is at your side within seconds. Fruity drinks long forgotten as he pulls you into his arms.

You’re not sure what to do. The selfish parts of you don’t want to stay buried. They want to grab onto him and never let go. But how unfair would it be to keep him from finding the happiness he deserves?

“Hey, hey,” he whispers. “Talk to me darling.” Kissing the crown of your head and running his hands up and down the length of your arms.

You shake your head. A hiccup stuck in your throat as the tightness in your chest grew.

“Alright, ok. I’m right here.”

He gently coaxes your arms to wrap around his waist. When you finally respond he presses your head to his chest.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

God, who were you kidding? He was perfect for you in every way.

Hobie sways the two of you on your feet. Rubbing between your shoulders and taking deep even breaths. Soon enough, yours matches his own.

Droplets hit the rail of your balcony and suddenly you can hear the city again. Car horns and kids running down the street. The sun peaking through the clouds before hiding behind complexes and office buildings.

Slowly you pull away. Cinnamon and leather, your new favorite scent.

“Atta girl…” Hobie’s eyes are filled with worry as he reaches for you cheek. “You ready to talk?”

He smiles slightly as you nod. Pinching your cheek and forcing your eyes on him. “I’m all yours.”

You tell him everything. How sorry you are for snapping. How confused and scared you are to lose him. A future you envision and a life you want to share.

You don’t expect him to walk away but you certainly don't expect him to slide one of his rings on your finger.

“Who said I couldn’t change my mind too?” He mumbles. Kissing the knuckle adoring his ring. “Love is all about compromise innit?”

You’re left at a loss for words.

“I can’t promise you perfection. Gwendy’s right. We’ll always have our problems but at the end of the day…”

Your heart lurches as he places a kiss on your lips.

“I’ll always want you.”

-

We're not talking about sunsets, are we?

[errorryx]

melodrama

read on ao3 | wild life, grumbo, 1.1k words

“I don’t like that one bit!” Mumbo tells him. “I’m all the friend that you need.”

And that’s when Grian gets an idea. A horrible, wonderful idea.

—

So maybe he had goals in mind. Maybe he had plans. Maybe he wanted this season to be something completely different from what it’s becoming. None of that matters anymore, because Grian’s self-control is shot to hell the second he hears those words. He should know better by now than to have faith in himself.

Here’s what matters now: Mumbo is Grian’s and Grian’s is his, to an extent that makes it hard to care about anything else. And Grian desperately wants to see how far Mumbo will go to keep it that way.

The wildcard ending early is the best excuse he could have hoped for. He goes back home with Mumbo and Skizz for the night, then sneaks out as loudly and obviously as he dares. Skizz could sleep through a hurricane, but Grian knows Mumbo will hear him. He doesn’t have to look back to know that Mumbo is watching as he slips out the front door.

Mumbo follows him up the cherry stairs. He’s making an effort to be quiet, but Grian can still hear soft footsteps behind him.

On top of the mountain, a red Scar awaits him. He’s sound asleep, but he’s still so very Scar, snoring softly, eyelids fluttering, one arm curled protectively around Jimmy beside him. There’s a part of Grian that wants to be in Jimmy’s place, or even Scar’s, but it’s not enough to lose sight of his objective. It’s not enough to forget the furious tension from the man standing behind him.

“I knew it,” Mumbo hisses, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are trying to leave us.”

He seems to be trying not to disturb the sleeping trio in front of Grian. But as always, Mumbo is careful but not careful enough. Lizzie twitches immediately, and Scar shifts in his sleep only moments after.

Grian turns around, not even bothering to feign surprise. “Shh,” he whispers back. “You’ll wake them up.”

“Fine,” Mumbo says, and stomps closer to grab Grian by the hem of his shirt. All the blood rushes to Grian’s head as Mumbo drags him away, past the giant parrots and halfway down the mountain. “There. Now explain yourself.”

He keeps a tight grip on Grian’s sweater, as if that’s enough to keep Grian somewhere he doesn’t want to be. It’s a good thing for Mumbo that Grian’s exactly where he wants to be right now.

“I just wanted to talk to Scar about something,” Grian says innocently. He doesn’t try to shake Mumbo off or push him away, just lets him do what he wants. “I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss about it.”

“You had plenty of time to talk to Scar all day,” Mumbo huffs. “The only reason to wait until the middle of the night is if you’re trying to ditch us.”

“So you really meant it, then.”

“Meant what?”

“You told me you didn’t want me to have other friends, remember?”

“And clearly I was right,” Mumbo says, “because apparently, your definition of ‘having friends’ means sneaking off in the middle of the night behind my back. Who knows what you would have done if I hadn’t caught you.”

“Who knows,” Grian echoes. “Certainly not me.” He’s not even lying; he didn’t plan on saying anything to Scar. He correctly assumed that Mumbo would stop him before that point.

Mumbo’s eyes narrow. “Don’t lie. You’re up to something, I know it.”

“Up to something? That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

“Just tell me the truth,” Mumbo says. “We’re supposed to be a team, Grian!”

Grian shrugs, unimpressed. “You want to know the real reason I went to visit Scar?”

“Yes, obviously.”

“It was just to get your attention. I wanted to see you freak out on me.”

Mumbo’s expression goes from anger to complete bafflement. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Really? You don’t get it?” Grian sighs at Mumbo’s blank stare. “Let go of me already and I’ll tell you.”

To his surprise, Mumbo listens. Now free to do as he pleases, Grian explains himself in the easiest way he can think of—he takes a few steps back and lunges, latching onto Mumbo with all four limbs.

It’s a close thing; Mumbo very nearly topples over. Grian folds his legs around Mumbo’s waist and rests his head on Mumbo’s shoulder, speaking softly in his ear. “It’s because I like when you’re being awful, you spoon.”

“You do?”

“Of course! I do it all the time, don’t I? I wouldn’t dish it out if I couldn’t take it.”

“Yes you would,” Mumbo says. “Repeatedly. Habitually, even.”

Grian sticks out his tongue at him, even though he knows Mumbo won’t be able to see it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You really like it, though?” Mumbo asks him. “I thought for sure you were getting sick of me.”

“Then why keep doing it?”

This question stumps him for a bit. Finally, Mumbo splutters out, “I suppose once I got started, I didn’t know how to stop.”

Grian can’t do anything but laugh at this answer. “See? Now you know how it feels!”

“It felt so natural,” Mumbo says. He’s starting to sound ashamed, and Grian can’t have that. “I didn’t even question it. Something must be wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Grian insists, leaning back to look Mumbo in the eyes. He has to wrap both hands around the back of Mumbo’s neck to do it, so he tries not to squeeze very hard. “In fact, I think you should get worse.”

“Well, I think you’re a terrible influence on me.”

“I think you like it.”

“I do,” Mumbo says, clearly distressed by this fact. “It’s horrible. This is not how we win a death game, Grian!”

Part of Grian wants to tell him that he’ll try his best to help Mumbo win, but he isn’t in the business of giving out false hope. Another part of him wants to try and convince Mumbo that winning isn’t worth the effort, but that approach could easily backfire. He’s left with only one option in the end, the same option as always.

Deny, deflect, distract. Keep the game-within-a-game going. Never leave time to stop and rethink.

“We could burn down the parrots tomorrow,” Grian suggests. “Kill some dark greens. Kick Skizz out of the group. Whatever you want.”

“I like the sound of all those things,” Mumbo says. “But I really only want one thing.”

Grian laughs. “Don’t worry,” he tells Mumbo. “It’s already yours.”

—

if you read this all the way through and enjoyed, please consider reblogging!

[makedonsgriva]

anyway I had a thought today where crown prince xie lian is younger than everyone else.

He is probably 6-7 when he gets mu qing and feng xin (who are 16-17) and they coddle him a lot. Basically XL is their baby brother and baby prince wants to be as strong as his older brothers because they are both so cool!!!

baby lian meets hong-er on the streets one day and please gege can’t we keep him??? I don’t have friends!! You two don’t count cause you’re not my age. Please just please!!!!

So that’s how the trio becomes a quartet and feng xin and mu qing are not only the body guards of the prince but also baby sitters of two very unruly kids who are never up to any good

(They are not getting paid enough to deal with them) (it’s a damn good thing they love the fuck outta those kids)

anyways XL starts his training and ofc Honger tags along. they grow up training together, challenging each other, competing but falling in love at the same time and yeah celibacy is easy for XL except every time he sees HC his thoughts go haywire

When XL ascends, he has three generals by his side.

When he falls, he has two because honger died in the war

And XL truly thinks he is to blame. He went from being the darling of the heavens to someone who has now lost everything. he can’t bear the loss of his beloved

(And he never even got to confess)

Ofc HC keeps him company as a ghost fire because he’d never let his beloved be alone. (XL does not know who the ghost fire is because knowing the love of his life is not at peace would hurt him immeasurably) FX and MQ try their best to stick with him but circumstances deteriorate and they are forced out of his life once again

although this time, MQ does stand up for XL in front of the 33 gods (and gets subsequently banished from heavens). In the end, he still has to leave XL. FX gets forced out of his life after the entire sword ordeal and XL’s subsequent mental breakdown.

Unknown to XL tho they are still both watching over him from a distance because ain’t no way they are leaving their baby bro like this

When XL enters his calamity era, they both lose their minds and are trying their best to subtly stop XL from doing the worst things but THAT STUPID FUCKING GHOST ALWAYS FOLLOWING HIM AROUND WILL NOT STOP ENABLING EVERY BAD DECISION XL TAKES

fx and mq are losing their minds. when xl lies in the streets for three days, they try their best to disguise themselves and go help him but that NAMELESS GHOST!!! He does not let them!! “Your highness would be heartbroken when he realizes you two have seen him in such a state and he’d never forgive himself and you two suck at disguising yourselves anyways~”

wu ming does end up getting dispersed but not before XL realizes his true identity and absolutely loses his mind with grief because how did he manage to lose his loved one not once but TWICE and both the times it was HIS FAULT

He gets banished from heavens again because ofc

knowing xl won’t be able to cope fx and mq finally reveal themselves. xl can feel all ashamed of himself for his actions it’s fine they are not leaving him alone again and they will help him heal and move on

Except one night when the two aren’t paying attention, XL ends up running away. He can’t bear being around them, knowing they know what he did and how he caused honger’s death twice.

(fx and mq never blamed him at all. They were just heartbroken and guilt stricken for not being able to do enough for their darling brother)

Cue 800 years of searching.

This time when XL ascends, he is greeted by two powerful generals who have been reduced to a tearful mess because THEY FINALLY HAVE XL BACK WITH THEM!!! THEIR BABY BRO IS SAFE

they accompany him to mount Yu Jun as themselves and HC comes to XL’s aid

he does not reveal his identity but XL just knows this man is special

FX and MQ then tell him about Crimson Rain Sought Flower, the elusive ghost king who challenged 33 gods and crushed them all

(But he was super nice to both of them and it kinda freaked them out)

When XL meets San Lang. He knows. He just knows it’s Honger and feels like he can finally breathe again because in those 800 years he never once stopped loving him but he waits for him to reveal his identity to him because what is stopping him from telling him and fx and mq?

HC, meanwhile, is sort of embarrassed to meet them, not sure if they would be able to accept this new form of his. He missed them all dearly but he is just not able to move past his self doubts.

It is not until the cave of 10k gods that it revealed who HC really is and instead of FX and MQ freaking out, there is a tearful reunion

Um yeah. A thought was thunked. Bon Appetit

[eddwardharrison]

Tell us... Which Tsams characters do you think, would fit in the Epic the Musical: God Games?

Heh…you utter FOOL..

THERE IS A BIAS HERE THAT CAN BE SWAPPED OUT— I’LL EXPLAIN IT AT THE END PORTION.

KEEP IN MIND, THESE ARE ONLY FOR THIS SONG. THEY CAN CHANGE ROLES IN OTHER SONGS.

Sun as Odysseus

struggling at the island by Miku Calypso while trying to get back home to Ithica. Penelope may just be Roxanne… BUT SUN IS OUR ABSENT CHARACTER BEING SPOKEN UPON

Athena as ECLIPSE

(VINEBOOM.)

due to their war and independency similarities. I believe the backstory for Athena, splitting Zues’ head open, and then losing to a sewing contest and turning a girlie into the first Arachnid is also pretty Eclipse core. But for the song specifically, his constant fighting, persuasion, logical reasoning, and lazy dancing fits his personality as he goes through each god, trying to convince him that “Hey, that guy I already gave up on…I kinda stopped giving up on. And I’d hate to see the training I gave him wasted.” Athena’s near-death-then-revival at the end also plays in to his involuntary immortality and ignorant persistence. He’d be in so much pain by the end that— YEAH, HE /WOULD/ BE BEGGING ZUES TO LET SUN GO.

Zues as KILLCODE

Killcode, known as Eclipse’s father in canon lore, being the most intimidating and “superior” claiming, a man who gives birth to gods, etc. Also it would fit the rage at the end of the song, with Killcode using his strength and size and above all else, a short fuse, to beat the snot out of Eclipse. YIKES!!

Apollo as RUIN

Ruin…his silly little self would absolutely LOVE songs. The kindness and consideration Apollo sings with in this song just SCREAMS Ruin. He would absolutely ADORE the Sirens too, murdering them off like Odysseus/Sun did would be a big frown for him.

Hephaestus as DARK SUN

SOLSTICE AKA DARK SUN. There’s a joke that goes around where Hephaestus’ name call was to get his attention off his work, I think that idea really fits with this song. I’d like to imagine he also forgot his name was “Dark Sun” when they announce it, so it takes him a second to react. (Because he’s just…y’know, “Sun”.) Dark Sun is not one for sacrificing close friends, so that would be right to the character.

Aphrodite as PUPPET

Puppet. Puppet would certainly hold grudges against those who let others get harmed and the harm is not justified…sorry guys…mama in Epic would…be…Earth…for the song “The Underworld” in The Underworld Saga…She would be one to make her mind up immediately, but after some persuasion and bargaining, she would listen.

Ares as MONTGOMERY GATOR

Ares brute force and immediate attack with Eclipse in the song, duking it out before Eclipse makes him eat his words AND his fists. The yelling and need for justice fits perfectly into Monty’s revenge thirsty self. He would also love to get the chance to beat Eclipse to a pulp…this is his opportunity.

Hera as EVIL EARTH

(Evil) Earth. She’d just be so silly! She’d be dancing around on the dance floor, absolutely pleased with herself while waiting for a rational and understandable reason to let Sun go. Eclipse would…definitely struggle. He doesn’t like Sun too much anyways, but eventually pulls out a damn good reason to which Evil Earth dives for instantly. Eclipse would also be so poorly dancing in the background…just like rocking side to side and calling that “dancing”

OPTION 2’S

• Eclipse and Dark Sun can switch roles. Dark Sun is #1 Sun defender… (This was my bias, I just wanted Eclipse to be Athena <\3)

• Lunar could be Apollo, but I believed Ruin fit better.

• You could technically assign all the Stars to them, but I thought this would be more fun. However, if you did…Taurus as Zues (swappable with Leo), Nebula as Aphrodite, Pollux as Apollo, Castor as Hephaestus, Leo as Ares (swappable with Taurus), I don’t remember (if there are) the other star signs. BWOMPPP!!

• Ares as NEXUS?? Maybe…

⬇️

NONE OF THESE GOD’S MYTH RELATIONSHIPS ARE TIED IN WITH THE CHARACTERS I’VE ASSIGNED. THIS IS JUST FOR SILLY DAYDREAMING IDEAS!! :]]

If these get used…please tag me or like..mention me or something..i…i wanna see……..🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[lisaiese]

lyrics in EPIC: the musical that changed my life trajectory

I don't know if it is the fact that I spent five years of high school studying Latin and Greek classics that makes me do this, but here I am writing a long ass tumblr post about some lyrics from the songs of a musical based on The Odyssey, the Homeric epic poem.

Enough chit chat, let's start from the lyrics in the first very song of the musical, 'The Horse and The Infant' from The Troy Saga:

The blood on your hands is something you won't lose All you can choose is whose

UGH so good already! Here we have Zeus speaking at the end of the song, basically telling Odysseus that killing in war is his duty as a man and a hero. This obviously kind of sounds like bullshit for us, but we have to understand the ancient culture behind it: in ancient Greece going to war was a symbol of honor. Think of the scene where Hector and Andromache met again, Hector really embodied the "I know that I probably won't come back to you and to our son (opsie), but I have to go"

Andromache said: “Dearest, your own great strength will be your death, and you have no pity on your little son, nor on me, ill-starred, who soon must be your widow…Please take pity upon me then, stay here on the rampart, that you may not leave your child an orphan, your wife a widow.” Hector responded: “All these things are in my mind also, lady; yet I would feel deep shame before the Trojans, and the Trojan women with trailing garments, if like a coward I were to shrink aside from the fighting.”

A key word is shame: many times my professor told us students about the 'shame culture' in ancient Greece, which Hector clearly refers to here. Therefore, it's either honor or shame: for the Greek dying in war was better than living like a coward. Through these lyrics - and also the next song of the album ('Just a Man') - we can notice how the characterization of Odysseus is different from that of heroes like Hector and Achilles: he seems more human. After all, it is no coincidence that he is characterized not only by physical strength but above all by intelligence: he is a 'Warrior of the Mind' (quoting one of the most iconic songs of the musical). In the first verse of The Odyssey, Homer calls Odysseus πολύτροπος, a term that literally means "of many turns" and can be translated as multifaceted, versatile, cunning.

Next lyrics are from 'Remember Them' from The Cyclops Saga:

What good would killing do? When mercy is a skill More of this world could learn to use

I chose these lyrics for two reason:

they are so well connected with the first ones and show how Odysseus still has his morality here (you have a long way my friend)

it is such a good phrase honestly, let's appreciate it

Actually, something to reflect on could be the theme of mercy, but I don't really remember a lot of information about it and I don't want to write about things I'm not so sure about. In fact, what I rememeber pretty well is mercy related to the Roman/Latin culture, in particular to the figure of Ceasar: Cicero attributes to Caesar the virtue of clementia, which is the term used in Latin to represent mercy. Apparently he is the only one who, among all the military leaders, stood out for his goodness of soul, so noble that it is not enough to simply compare him to great men, but he must be judged similar to a god («haec qui faciat, non ego eum cum summis viris comparo, sed simillimum deo iudico»). That's basically everything I can give you about the topic. I would dive into it more by talking about the musical itself, analysing how this is connected to Odysseus' relationship with his morality, but then I would really be writing an essay here and now, which would ruin the order and logic of this very long text.

Let's move on to the next lyrics from 'Ruthlessness', from The Ocean Saga, which made me gasp so hard the first I heard them:

You are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great A Greek who reeks of false righteousness, that's what I have 'Cause you fight to save lives, but won't kill and don't get the job done

Speechless. Mind-blowing. The earth shook. You are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great Hello??? Sorry Ulysses, but Poseidon ate. 'Cause you fight to save lives, but won't kill and don't get the job done Like, where do I even start to talk about this. Poseidon is actually throwing the naked truth in Odysseus' face! Everything so far has a logic:

Zeus tells Odysseus that he has to kill Hector's son Astynax (which he does in the end, for the sake of going home)

Odysseus spares Polyphemus (maybe because of guilt? He is just a man, afterall...)

That mercy results in a literal god (Poseidon) wanting to have vengeance: if Odysseus had been ruthless, he would have put mercy upon himself (yeah that's a direct reference to the lyrics Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves)

Now we finally arrive at my favorite saga (aaaaa): The Circe saga. Starting from some very simple lyrics, but so impactful, from the 'Puppeteer':

But this was a hell of a twist, cause we are weak to a power like this What was it? A woman

Hell yeah, a woman! Clearly, you are just a man (another reference, got you!). Ok, return to serious talk. I think most of us know that women were often portrayed as bewitchers, source of evil and misfortune, in ancient times, especially in the Greek culture. Let's think about the story of Pandora's box: it is a myth narrated by Hesiod in the poem Works and Days. According to it, the first woman on earth, named Pandora, was gifted a jar by the gods. However, led by curiosity, she opened it and, by doing so, she released sickness, death and many other unspecified evils. She then closed the jar and only one thing was left behind: Hope. This story (one of many and one of the most famous) perfeclty exemplifies how women were considered dangerous and, at the same time, powerful, as bringers of evil.

Next, from the same saga, let me present to you the best lyrics from the song 'There Are Other Ways':

There are many ways of persuasion There are many modes of control Maybe showing one act of kindness Leads to kinder sould down the road

AAAAAAA. Circe you are such *incomprehensible adjectives of praise* woman. Here Circe basically gives Odysseus' morality hope, let me explain: until now we saw how Odysseus' kind soul and his mercy led him to antagonize a god, on the other hand (in theory) killing a child opened the doors for him to return home. From these observations the only "lesson" that can be deduced is that behaving like a "monster" is better than just "being a man" (yeah I love referencing). BUT Circe kind of destroys this reasoning, proving that a good soul can take him so far... aaaand of course it's a woman who does this

Moving on: The Underworld Saga, lyrics sung by our favorite prophet Tiresias:

I see you wife with a man who is haunting A man with a trail of bodies (who?)

This song? Chills. Literal Chills. The song in itself is a forshadowing, an oracle. I chose these lyrics specifically because they forshadow Odysseus' darkest moments in the journey, by specifically pointing out what he becomes: [...] a man who is haunting A man with a trail of bodies Who? Odysseus you ask. It's you. It's you in the future, and you know why it's "no longer you" (yeah, another quoting)? Because you will have lost your morality by then. Honestly? We kind of all expected that, sorry not sorry Odysseus.

And directly connected to that we have the lyrics from 'Scylla', from The Tunder Saga (it's orange because there is no yellow):

We are the same, you and I, I

Just this one final verse, so powerful. Odysseus encountered mermaids and was merciless with them, after that he went to the lair of Scylla. They are actually the same: monsters. Or at least, Odysseus has become like her.

And now, in The Wisdom Saga, we welcome back the badass of the arena: Athena! Let's hear what she wisely says in 'Little Wolf':

One young wolf has a larger heart than all these men combined

It's always the women guys. Athena's appearance to help Telemachus fighting the suitors is so crucial: her words and herself gift us that ray of hope and goodness that was lacking ever since The Underworld Saga. Here she refers to Telemachus, Odysseus' son, who is called a young wolf. While at the beginning of the song the suitors were using the term "little wolf" to basically mock him, Athena changes the connotation: he is not a little wolf, he is a just a young wolf, with a good soul and heart. Even a wolf (an animal) is more good-hearted than a man, but here who actually is the animal and who is the man? Athena, a godess, knows best.

Finally, The Vengeance Saga, from which the best song (almost cried listening to it) is, of course, 'Six Hundred Strike':

After everything you've done... ...how will you sleep at night? Next to my wife...

OMG. Literally OMG. Here, at the final showdown between Odysseus and Poseidon, our hero prevails. Poseidon asks: "After everyhting you've done... how will you sleep at night?". I don't know if my interpretation is right, but this is what I think Poseidon meant with his words:

after everything you've done (and been through) to get here... how will you sleep at night? -> will the trauma spare you?

after everything you've done as you became a monster... how will you sleep at night? -> will the guilt spare you?

And Odysseus just answers with a "Next to my wife", because that's what he wanted from the very beginning, to come home, and he will achieve his goal. His story is the story of a journey: obviously, a journey back home, but most importantly, a journey of someone who is 'Just a Man' (got you again with the reference). Odysseus is just a man, a human being who has encountered countless obstacles, who has had his ups and downs, who has thrown his morality into the sea to return home. And what is this, if not life?

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 35

Spoilers for ISAT/Two Hats below! CW: Fear of Mortality I guess? Emotional Devastation, Desperation.

(The last thing you remember is falling. Falling, then suddenly...)

(You're here again, in the lightless void.)

(It felt like you blinked and suddenly you were just... here. You look down at yourself, confirming you're in one piece and fine.)

(You notice a light shining on you from behind. When you turn to investigate, you're met with a wondrous sight.)

(A vast field of stars, extending above and below the horizon. In the center of it, the stars coalesce into a point almost too bright to look at. And coming from it, almost too faint to hear... You think you hear the sea.)

(You weren't quite sure what you were looking at... but it felt oddly comforting, inviting. You take a step closer to it before a voice calls to you from behind, one you hadn't heard for decades... yet it still sends a shiver through your spine.)

"Ooooo... Isn't it beautiful, bright one?"

(You quickly turn in shock, instinctively reaching for your weapon that you don't currently have. You expect to see the sadness within you again... You almost hope for it instead... yet you don't, you're met with the sight of the King himself. Smaller, shorter hair, the state you left him in when he was frozen.)

(You freeze in place as a mix of emotions floods your mind. Confusion, fear, anger, relief? You're not sure if this or your sadness would be a better sight at the moment.)

"Ooo, bright one... I see the anger within you... There is no need for it here." (The king takes a step towards you. You take one backwards to keep the distance.)

"Why... Why are you here? What's going on?"

"Don't you see it, bright one?" (He gestures towards the light behind you, to which you cautiously turn to look.) "Do you not recognize what it is?"

(You focus on the inviting light a bit longer... Before it suddenly clicks.) "This... It's home?..."

"Ooooo, indeed it is, bright one." (You hear the King's footsteps once more, but you're too transfixed to care. He suddenly walks past you, towards the light.) "It is home. Only open to us now, here at the end."

"The end?... What do you mean?"

"The end of our stories, bright one." (The king pauses on his walk towards the light.) "Ooooo, you haven't realized it yet... It matters not, bright one. The Universe is leading us home."

"But... I was... I'm still looping... Why would it stop now? I-I... Wait, wh-what about Vale?! What happened to them?!"

"One of your friends, is it? Ooooo, I cannot say, bright one, I cannot say... but..." (The king starts to walk towards the light again.) "It is so beautiful, bright one..."

(You feel the longer in your head for what's been lost to you for so long... you take a single step towards it before you realize what you're doing.) "... N-No... No I can't! Not now! Why now?!"

"The Universe leads, bright one... We can only follow..." (The light slowly grows brighter. It's warm and familiar, like the feeling of the sun on the beach.)

"No! No I'm done letting the universe decide! I love my whole life! Twice! I won't lose everything again! Not like this! Not now!!"

"Ooooooo, bright one... It is not up to us anymore."

(The light continues to grow brighter. In your head... memories start to return. You wince and turn from the light, trying so hard to resist what would be an otherwise wonderful gift.)

"No!!!" (You start to sprint in the opposite direction, tears welling up in your eye. You desperately try and block out the memories that return, not wanting to accept any temptation away from your life.) "NO NO NO NO NO!!!!"

(The light continues to grow brighter. Your head is buzzing with the feeling of returning memories. Your footsteps seem to have no purchase on the ground, getting you nowhere.)

(You grip your head, shutting your eye tight as tears pour down your face.) "NO!!! PLEASE!!! NOT NOW! NOT WHEN I FINALLY GOT THEM BACK!!! PLEASE!!!!!!" (You let out in a desperate scream, a plea to the Universe to send you back, at least one last time.)

(You start to remember. Your remember places. Faces. Feelings. You feel the mountain-borne wind tugging at your cloak. You feel sand under your feet. You feel the beachside sun on your face. You feel the salty spray of the ocean. You feel a tug on your stomach...)

(You gasp awake and quickly sit up, looking around frantically as tears were already pouring down your right cheek.)

"Sif?!" (Isa cries out in shock, sitting up with you and wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. You grip his arm back tightly and try to slow your breathing. You focus on his warmth, his heartbeat pulsing around you as it helped slow your own.)

"Isa..." (You whisper out, your panic begins to subside, but this only lets you finally break down. You hold onto him tightly as you just sob into his chest.) "I-I was so scared... I-I thought I lost you all..."

"I'm here Sif, we're all okay..." (The tent flap swings open, letting light pour in just like last time, only this time it was Vale who crouched at the entrance of it.)

"Stardust... we need to talk."

Once again, thank you to @tactical-shrubbery for emotionally devastating one of our favorite time travelling enbies!