#that i’m just gonna assume this is what that means
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˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
10 | I know that's
❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | language, tension, flirting, mention of drugs & alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, taunting, etc.
❧ Word Count | 7.2k (phew.)
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
——Back in your room, you wasted no time calling Gojo back. That whole… thing with Choso is something you’ll save your worrying for another day. As of right now, Gojo should be your main focus since you have a Halloween party to attend with him tonight.
Laying stomach first across your surprisingly neatly made bed, your feet dance back and forth in the air as you hold your cellphone to your ear and listen to Gojo ramble to you about his day. He didn’t address the phone hanging up at all or the way he definitely heard Choso’s voice before the line disconnected earlier—he just got on the phone, asked if you were alright, and then when back to what he’d been telling you before.
Which brings a nice smile to your face. It’s refreshing to have someone like Gojo to talk to, honestly. Not only do you really enjoy conversing with him or listening to him talk but, you also like how he didn’t question you like crazy. That simple act alone took some weight off of your shoulders because it meant you didn’t have to lie again. God knows you hate lying to the guy.
But you’re not gonna tell him the truth either because the truth is terrible. How do you even being to explain to your crush that you almost fucked your best friend again in the short amount of time you were off of the phone with him?
“So,” Gojo continues, clearing his throat a bit between words. “Aside from tonight’s party, you don’t have any plans for today, right?”
Your head tilts further against the phone as you release a gentle sigh, “To my knowledge, no I don’t have any other plans. Why?”
He yawns softly, “Because, that gives us enough time to go last-minute costume shopping, remember?”
Chuckling into the phone, your lips curve into a smile. “Don’t you have work?” You ask.
You can’t see it of course but, Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “I mean, yeah… But I’m sure my boss won’t mind if I close up a bit early. It’s Halloween.”
“If you say so,” You comment. “I’m assuming you want me to meet you at the cafe in a few hours then?”
“Yup,” Gojo hums with a sassy lil pop of the ‘p’ at the end there. “Til’ then, I’ll have to drown myself in work. My break’s about to be over.”
You click your tongue and frown a bit, “Aw, well hopefully time flies by fast.”
“Yeah, hopefully.”
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Once off of the phone with Gojo, you spend your day holing yourself up in your bedroom in an honest attempt of avoiding Choso. Luckily for you, at no point did he come knocking on your door trying to gain a bit of your attention. This provided you with a rather relaxing morning and afternoon of bedrotting.
Not the most productive thing to do but, hey, at least time flew by pretty fast. After lazying around for hours waiting for the right time, you ended up rolling out of bed and throwing on something cozy to go out in—you’d be changing into a costume in an hour so there was no point in dressing up too cute or anything.
You end up exiting you apartment wearing something easy to get in and out of so that when you do find your costume, and in the event that it later gets uncomfortable, you have something else to throw back on.
Taking a walk all the way throughout your campus just to reach that cute lil’ cafe you’ve grown to love and adore, you felt the season of fall brushing all against your skin as you walked. It’s as if that hectic morning of yours never even took place with how peaceful this part of your day was. For just a moment, it was only you and your thoughts. No horny Choso humping against you like a dog in heat, no anxiety induced thoughts screaming at you everytime Gojo talks to you… just, tranquility.
And when you finally arrive at the designated coffeehouse you’ve been to time and time again, a smile is painted across your face before you even push past the front doors. The sun is making it’s set so the sky is all pretty with different hues of oranges and reds—something you took a few pictures of on your way here.
Grabbing a hold of the warm metal door handles, you give it a light push and that homey smell of coffee rushes into your nose. A smell in which you’ve grown quite fond of given what follows shortly after…
No one is inside except for Gojo so the smile on your face merely brightens as you meet eyes with him. Almost like a damn puppy, his entire demeanor lightens up at your presence, pretty dimples peaking out in his cheeks as he reciprocates your happy expression.
You’re approaching the counter and he’s making his way around it, all too quick to embrace you by wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulling you in close. Gojo lets out a long sigh, “Been’ waiting all day to do this, y’know.” He tells you, voice muffled slightly with the way his face slowly barries itself into the crook of your neck.
You hug him back with the same amount of passion he’d approached you with and then smile. “Do what? Hug me?” Your voice is gentle against his ears and unbeknownst to you, his heart feels all weird in his chest. Then there’s these flutters your feel in your stomach at how good he smells and how stupidly clingy he seems to be today.
It’s this strange mix of coffee beans and his cologne that seeps into your nose now, making you hug him just a bit tighter to simmer into the scent some more. He smells like a hard working man and you simply love that for whatever reason. You suppose that thing people say about a man in uniform is true after all…
“Yeah,” Gojo soon answers your question whilst lifting his face from your neck and meeting your eyes again. His gaze stays put for barely even a second before he’s cracking a smirk and leaning in to kiss you.
A brief grin ghosts your lips as he kisses you. Your arms firmly wrap around his neck and you push up on your toes a bit to deepen the connection of your mouths. Gojo’s lips feel like comfort against your own, almost as if you were ice and he the sun—his every touch melting you in his hands. You let out a small hum in between the kiss as he slots his lips against yours further, steadily drawing your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it.
His tongue dances against the plump skin for only a moment before he pries himself away and you both ease out a small breath of air. “And that,” Gojo says, “I swear you’re on my mind all day.”
Such a soft admission spoken to you so suddenly makes you gulp. “Am I now?” You whisper, noticing how he’s leaning back in for another kiss already.
Gojo wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah,” He utters back just as softly, skin brushing over yours, and eyes narrowing, “Jus’ can’t get enough of you.” Is the last thing he tells you before he’s ridding himself of all the space between you two again.
No one else is in the establishment, so you kiss for a hot minute. It’s soft at first, like always, but then it gradually heats up. His hands move to your waist and his head tilts further while his tongue makes its journey into the wet caverns of your mouth. Groaning at the sweet taste resting there, Gojo unconsciously steps forward with you. You naturally follow his lead and he ends up kissing you until your lower back meets the counter.
Not sparing you the chance to break the kiss, Gojo bends down a little and swiftly lifts you up onto the counter—his lips never once leaving yours. He feels starved as he makes out with you right in the middle of where he works. Hushing out a simple, “Taste s’sweet,” In between your lips.
You mutter his name somewhere throughout the kissing and one of your hands ends up on his chest, very faintly pushing him. As the kiss is severed, Gojo has this needy expression all over his face and his cheeks are reddened. He’s so pretty that it genuinely hurts to look at. It almost isn’t fair.
“Don’t we have some shopping to do?” You remind the man in a slightly breathless tone.
Gojo bats his lashes at you almost innocently. “Yeahh, but we have time, don’t we?” As the words roll off of his tongue, his lips are curving into that taunting little smile again, and then his dimples are making yet another appearance.
His hands, which are so stupidly soft, trace the outskirts of your thighs upon the counter. Those almost beryl-blue eyes of his scan over your face, taking in every inch and curve, studying you, and getting mesmerized by you. If you looked way too closely into it all, you’d almost asume the guy was in lo—
You clear your own throat to cut that thought off. “No, it’s Halloween, silly.” You remind him with a smile, glancing down to your hands on his chest and moving your fingertips to trace what you can feel beneath his clothes. “There’s barely gonna be costumes as is, the later we go, the less there’ll be.”
Gojo sighs while he thinks for a moment. His bottom lip protrudes as he pouts and you can’t help the way you chuckle at that. “S’not funny. I really did miss you,” He tells you again, tipping his head down into your neck and pressing his lips against your skin, “But you’re right, we probably should head out now.” He’s agreeing with you with his words but the way he’s planting these soft pecks against your neck is saying something else entirely.
His kisses tickle and you end up holding onto his shirt a bit and letting out a giggle, “Satoru,” You call out once, receiving no sign of him stopping his ticklish kisses. Then you squirm and he smiles against you. “‘Toru,” You say, to which his teeth graze you.
“Such a tease,” Gojo simmered into your skin hotly. “Callin’ me that nickname like you don’t know what it does t’me…”
Full on smiling now, you angle your head to look at him and he pulls away from your neck to meet that incoming gaze. His pupils seem to expand ever so slightly as they’re met with yours but, you may have imagined that. “It does something to you?” You ask innocently as you push forward to slide off of the counter, “I had no idea…!”
That cheery faux innocence in your tone makes Gojo’s smile expand before his eyes roll. He watches the way you step aside and straighten up your clothes before sending him one last glance. Something about you really keeps his mind at this mushy state because every time his eyes lock with yours it’s like he can’t form a single thought in his brain that doesn’t involve you.
Staring, letting a small moment of the eye contact pass by, Gojo scoffs softly. “Riight, sure you didn’t.” He replies to your last comment sarcastically.
After that brief conversation, which could’ve easily progressed into something more if you didn’t stop him, you assist Gojo in cleaning up the cafe so he can leave with you. All you had to do was wipe a few tables off and then you watched him sweep and mop. It seemed like not many people had come in today given the state of the kitchen and how clean it was (you’d picked up on how messy it gets when Gojo is swamped with customers a while back).
Small talk is held almost the entire time up until he finally closes up and walks you to his car. It’s then that silence is welcomed back into your space and even as you walk with him, you still feel this comforting air wrapping around you. Especially when Gojo throws an arm over your shoulder and soon opens his car door for you. He’s so strangely perfect that you can’t help the way you feel for him.
Even throughout the car ride to… the nearest costume shop? He plays a bunch of Halloween songs and throughout Micheal Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, you notice that even Gojo’s singing is perfect. Hence why by the time you two make it to your destination your cheeks hurt from how hard you’d been smiling and you can hardly remember the last time a guy, aside from Choso, has made you laugh this much.
The shop he takes you to is rather… pricey, you note as the two of you stroll through together. And yeah, most of the shelves are cleared off and whatever’s left isn’t anything super creative. Gojo guides you to the back of the store though and you swear he had this all planned out in his head with the way he leads you straight to a particularly cute couples costume.
“Y’know,” You start off, picking up the clearly designated costume that stands out in contrast to the other last-minute options left on the surrounding shelves. “If you wanted us to wear matching costumes, you could’ve jus’ said something.”
When you glance back to Gojo, you notice the way he’s got a hand scratching the back of his neck and is looking off to the side nonchalauntly. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, sweets…” He hums, that faint pigment of pink coating his cheeks yet again.
You snort, “Really? So how is it that you’ve led me all the way back here and straight to the only decent costumes left in this store?” As you speak, you lift the two costume packages up and hold them out to showcase them to him. “Not to mention, they just so happen to be the only matching ones too.”
Gojo redirects his eyes to the items in your hand and he grins innocently. “This is a coincidence, really.” He chuckles, “I mean why would I—“ He stops himself mid-sentence at the look you’re giving him and just ends up sighing in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine,” His hands went up, “Ya’ caught me.”
You smile, “Mhm, I know. Now, are you gonna go ahead ‘n ask me to match with you orr…?”
His shoulders sink a bit, “Do I have tooo? You’re already holding the costumes, are you really gonna make me ask—“
“Yep,” You hum in response with a mocking pop of the ‘p’.
Gojo scoffs playfully. “Fine.” He starts, stepping closer to you, “Do you wanna be the cowgirl to my cowboy and y’know, ride throughout this Halloween night with me?”
There’s half a beat of silence that passes after the cheesiness that just left his lips before you burst out laughing. “You’re so corny, oh my God.” You snicker out in an airy tone.
He joins your giggling with his own and then tips his head to the side, “So is that a yes orrrr…?”
Rolling your eyes, you nod. “Yeah, I’ll be the cowgirl to your cowboy tonight, Satoru.” Then you hand him his designated costume and brush past him.
Gojo clenches his fist and brings it down to himself in celebration, whispering a little, “Yess.” To himself childishly while you make your way to the nearby dressing room.
There were other last minute costumes that’d caught your eye on your way to the back of the store but, you think you’re pretty content with the cowgirl costume you end up putting on. Sure, you passed the classics like witches, cheerleaders, vampires, ghosts, etc… but this costume fits you so well that it’s almost as if it were made for you.
It fits your body almost like a leather glove but without being too uncomfortable or tight. It’s a top and bottom set—mostly consisting of black and an accenting hint of red here and there.
Once you get it on, your body is quickly flattered by the fabric. The top is long sleeved, cropped up high, and has a knot that ties right in the lower center of your chest with a vest that has these sparkly red stars on it. Then there’s the sorry excuse for shorts accompanying the top, that’s decorated with this semi-chunky belt with matching sparkly red stars. Lastly were the boots and hat, both black with hints of red, that completed the look.
And once you got a glance of yourself in the nearby mirror, you were gagged by how good you look. You spun around to get a full view of yourself, noticing the hug that the shorts have on your ass, shaping you perfectly. Hell, you almost never wanna take this damn thing off. And contrastingly enough, part of you is a bit self-conscious to actually go out like this.
It’s not until you take a deep breath and step out of the dressing room that your confidence returns to you with the wolf-whistle you recieve from Gojo. Your eyes had been somewhere on the floor until you heard the sound he let out, lifting your gaze to find him slouching back against some chair he managed to find and pull up. He’s got his legs all spread like some slut (not that you’d ever say this aloud, of course) and you don’t think there’s a single thought of innocence in your head as you take in the sight of him.
His costume is matching yours but, there’s a lot less skin showing, obviously. The shirt he has on is rolled up to his elbows and he’s got a teasing amount of his chest revealed—matching you with that low v-cut top you have, except his shirt is just a bunch of buttons undone.
His lower half is your typical pair of cowboy pants, all snug against his thighs, fabric straining over his muscles, and—
“Eyes up here sweets’,” Gojo says with a snap of his fingers. You flinch and revert your gaze to his face, gulping at the way he’d caught your gaze trailing elsewhere. “There she is,” He purrs, motioning with two fingers for you to walk toward him, “C’mere. Lemme get a better look at’cha.”
You almost awkwardly shuffle over to him, shyly covering your exposed midsection and trying to calm the pounding of your heart with each step you take. “Satoru, d-don’t you think this is a bit…” You hate how nervous you are right now, as if he hasn’t seen you with less clothes before.
Once you find yourself standing right in between his legs, he peers up at you with that ridiculously handsome smile of his. “A bit what?” Gojo hushes out as he reaches forward and moves your arms out the way to expose all of you to his greedy eyes. “I think you look perfect, like always.” He practically whispers, leaning forward and planting an all too affectionate kiss onto your stomach.
You flinch again and instinctively move your hand to his shoulder to push him back a bit, “Thank you but, I feel exposed.”
He acts as though you shoved him back, slumping into the chair like he was before and giving you this lovestruck expression as he meets your eyes. “S’okay,” Gojo tells you, “I’m sure there’ll be a lot more people wearing a lot less tonight so, you’ll feel more comfortable once we’re there.”
You give him a little nod in response and he moves his hands to trace your hips, feeling the tight fabric of your shorts beneath his fingertips and taking a deep breath.
“And if not,” He moves to stand up and you’re reminded of the height difference between you two all over again. “I’ll give you my jacket or something, okay?”
Nodding again, you feel so safe beneath his gaze—almost like nothing else really matters when you’re around him.
Once that’s all been settled, you and Gojo leave the costume shop. You forget to question him about how the hell you two were able to leave without paying for anything but, the rest of the night takes over all those questions you love asking him so much.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Before you even know it, you’re pulling up to this huge house, distant thumping sounds of music and giggles heard throughout the air as Gojo parks his car not too far off. There’s vehicles placed all down the street, people all over the front yard, some just hanging out and others taking pictures or even making out.
It’s been a while since you last attended a party but, the sight of multiple skimpy outfits brings you a sense of comfort as soon as you step out of the car. The music from the house is so loud that you can’t even make out what song is playing right now due to the bass. Even so, Gojo quickly approaches your side and rightfully places his arm over your shoulder like he did earlier, keeping you nice and close to him while the two of you make way for the entrance.
The atmosphere is overly lively. You can hear and see people laughing, talking, dancing, drinking, etc. The music vibrates off of the house walls as you and Gojo walk in, shuffling past hella people just to make it fully inside. The house-, mansion, really, is packed with semi-drunk college students and you’re quickly reminded why you don’t surround yourself with party goers almost every weekend like you used to.
There’s definitely heads turning as you and Gojo navigate through the crowd of people but, you can’t really tell if that’s because of him or you.
You would’ve loved to say that Gojo was the most attractive man there but… it’s really hard to say that when you’re quickly stopped by some tall polished blonde man wearing a priest costume. Ignoring the way Gojo’s got an arm around your shoulder entirely, this guy grins at you kindly and he’s got the prettiest honey brown eyes taking in all of you as he leans toward you to voice a compliment.
“Beautiful costume,” The man says to you simply. From where you and Gojo had made it to, the music wasn’t overwhelming and you could actually talk to someone without yelling or leaning in too close.
Naturally, you smile in thanks and give him a little nod. “Thank you, I like yours as well. You’re a priest, right—“
“Nanami!” Gojo beams beside you, unconsciously telling you the name of the blonde man you were seconds away from making casual conversation with. “The hell are you doin’ here?” He asks in a taunting tone.
Nanami’s face flicks into something tired at the mere sound of Gojo’s voice. “I should be asking you that, Gojo. You’re supposed to be at work right now.” He says sternly.
Gojo chuckles lightly, “Oh don’t be like that, boss.” He says, taking his arm from around you and moving to tap Nanami on his arm, “It’s Halloween!”
Nanami sighs. “Yes, yes, I know. That’s why I’m not upset or anything but, you could’ve sent a text. I’d like to be aware of whether or not my cafe’s closing early.”
It suddenly clicks for you that Nanami owns that beloved cafe you visit practically everyday—something which, getting a good look at his chiseled face, just fits him. Nanami is exactly what you imagined Gojo’s boss looking like, honestly. The only thing surprising you here is the fact that he’s around the same age.
You’re about to say something to insert yourself back into the conversation but you’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “Oh my God, Satoru! You made it!!” Hori says overly cheerful.
By the time you turn your head to spot her, her arms are wrapping around Gojo’s waist and she’s hugging him tightly. Gojo hugs her back with one arm and forces a friendly smile onto his face.
“Hey Hori,” Gojo greets rather plainly. “Are you dressed as a… bunny?” He asks as he looks down at her within his grasp. You couldn’t really see her because of the way she was hugging Gojo but that didn’t bother you too much when Nanami steals your attention away with a light tap.
“I didn’t get your name,” He says to you, having leaned in a bit so that you could hear him clearly.
“Oh,” You chirp before extending a hand out and voicing your name to him. Nanami nods as he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanami.” You greet officially.
He grins kindheartedly, “The pleasure is all mine, honestly.”
There’s a moment of prolonged handshaking before someone bumps into Nanami’s arm and your hands disconnect. You both look to see who it is and you’re met with this brown haired guy dressed as some kind of criminal (?). Tugging the skimask up off of his face, your eyes are greeted with a very contrasting face. He’s got these big doe-like eyes and his features scream innocence in a way.
“Woah, you’re pretty,” He chuckles, clearly tipsy off of whatever drink seems to be held in his left hand. “Y’Mind if I get your number?”
Your eyes go wide at his straightforwardness and all you do is smile at first. “Uh, I’m actually…” You slowly glance to where Gojo is, only to find that he’s been dragged elsewhere with Hori. You see his a peek of his snowy white hair amid the crowd and your shoulders slump a bit at how quickly he just left your side. Turning back to the brunette male, you nod, “Y’know what, yeah, sure.”
Nanami clears his throat and his phone is held out soon, “Me too actually,” He chimes in.
With that, you're entering your number into the two guy’s phones and then handing their devices back to them. The brunette soon informs you that his name is Ino and the three of you stand there making small talk for a bit.
It’s mildly concerning that Gojo just left you like that but you distract yourself with the two men talking to you at the moment.
After chatting with them for a bit, they eventually part ways with you and you navigate your way through the sea of party people alone. There’s not a single familiar face throughout the crowd and it’s not until you notice you’re getting stares from people that you start feeling self conscious again.
You thought that maybe if you made your way to the dance floor and vibed by yourself for a bit, you’d be fine. But, you don’t even make it that far because somewhere throughout your shuffling through people, someone grabs a light hold of your arm and pulls you out of the crowd.
You stumble into step to see who the hell decided to grab you like that. It wasn’t aggressive or anything but it was concerning since you’ve only seen unrecognizable people thus far.
“Finally a familiar face,” The sound of Utahime’s voice hits your ears and she’s turning to face you after pulling you far away enough to talk to you. “Y’know how long I was in that damn crowd looking for literally anyone I knew? I’m so glad I found you.” She says with a sigh.
Your chest feels light as you drink in her wearing a cheerleader costume. “I’m glad you found me too, I was walking around here for maybe ten minutes or so.” You explain.
She rolls her eyes, “I thought you came here with Gojo? Did that asshole ditch you?”
You’re quick to shake your head. “Nono, he didn’t ditch me! I think Hori pulled him off earlier and I was talking with these other guys so we just got separated. Any longer in that crowd and I would’ve called him.”
Utahime pauses for a second while she gathers your words. Then, her expression changes and she smiles at you. “Oh, okay. I was just making sure because Gojo can be a real dickhead sometimes.”
“Think so?” You end up asking. This was the first time you’d heard anything remotely negative about him so, of course your curiosity is piqued.
“Yeah.” She replies, clearly having no intention of going further into an explanation at the moment. Then, with a sigh, she allows her eyes to drop down along your figure. Utahime lets out a small up and her head tilts, “Anyway, you look good—love the costume.” She compliments, her tone light and almost flirtatious.
Though, you could totally be misinterpreting things. “Oh, thank you! I love yours too, it fits you nicely.” Your returned compliment makes her smile and she allows her arms to fold beneath her chest.
“Aww, thanks. I think I—“
“Utahime!!” And there she is again… Hori. Cutting off yet another conversation and spawning into the scene out of seemingly nowhere, dressed as Regina George’s sorry excuse of a bunny from Mean Girls 1 (which is fitting since she’s blonde as well), Hori’s all smiley and her cheeks are lightly flushed. “I was looking for you everywhere. Where’d you run off to?!” She huffs as her arms wrap around Utahime’s singular arm and her head comes to rest on her shoulder.
Utahime says something to respond but all words and sound practically dies out in your ears as a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a fluffy head of hair rests on your left shoulder. Flinching at the sudden contact, you don’t even get the chance to say anything before lips are grazing your ear and a familiar spread of warmth is brushing at your skin.
“Was lookin’ for ya’ everywhere, sweets.” Gojo hushes out into your ear. “God, you smell so good,” His voice lowers and the arms around your waist begin to shift along with his head. The tip of his nose is soon felt burying itself into the crook of your neck and he inhales sharply while his slender fingers smooth over the exposed skin of your waist.
Your body tenses up due to all the sudden touches but, a smile is sparking across your lips before you even realize it. “Thank you, Satoru. And, I was looking for you too… for like, ten minutes actually.” You inform him, earning a gruff little hum in response. “You invited me here ‘n then left me in less than five minutes…”
Gojo grimaces once the mentioning of his departure hits his ears. He sighs into your skin before pressing a small kiss at it, “M’sorry. First Hori pulled me away to find Suguru, and then some other people came pulling me along… I should’ve come back for ya’, my bad.”
You lean back against his touch a bit and your back becomes flush with his chest, “It’s okay, I’m glad you found me.”
“Yeahhh,” He sighs. For a second, you begin to wonder if he’s drunk with how sly his words seem to fall off of his tongue. “To make up for it though.. We could go—“
“Lemme guess, dance?” You cut off, recalling the last party you went to with him and how the same exact thing happened then. He really was a people magnet all around, huh?
Chuckling, Gojo gives your body a small tug and your ass is brought back toward his crotch. “You know it,” He says cheekily as he lifts his head from your neck and then drops his hands to your hips. It’s swift the way he spins you around to face him, your hands soon finding place on his chest and your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones. After which, he allows his hands to sneak behind you and grab a nice handful of your ass within his palm.
Ultimately, you were left looking up at him all surprised and confused. Gojo is touchy, sure. He always has been but… he doesn’t normally touch you so intimately out in the open like this. It was different. Not that you minded it but, it left you to wonder who or what he wanted to showcase these touches off to…
His cheeks were similarly flushed to how Hori’s were when you last looked at her, again leading you to wonder if he’d dranken anything. “Satoru,” You call out gently, moving your hands to cup his cheek and lull his expression a bit closer to your own for better study. “Have you been drinking?”
Gojo’s eyes take a second to actually focus on you, which silently tells you all you need to know. “Juuuust a lil’, yeah.” He admits to you.
To which you frown, “You went off and drank without me too? Wowww.” Your voice is clearly dramatic but Gojo seems to pout anyway.
Leaning in to you, he rests his forehead against yours and his arms circulate your waist again as he hugs you properly. “I jus’ had like, one cup of somethin’.” Gojo explains, his voice softening whilst his lashes bat in an innocent manner.
You stare at him. “One cup and you’re tipsy already?” You say, releasing a soft fit of laughter.
Gojo scrunches up his face a bit and you feel like it’s just you and him in the room right now, despite sounds of people laughing and talking all loud surrounding the two of you. “Mhmm. I don’t drink too often ‘cause I can't really handle alcohol too well,” He explains to you with a slight clearing of his throat.
The distant sound of Tory Lanez’s ‘The Color Violet’ can be heard and it makes Gojo lift his head and glance back toward where most people are dancing and the music is at its loudest.
Your eyes remain up on the man, “Should I be worried?”
He looks at you again and smiles, his brows tweezing together. “What? No. I’ve been told I get clingy when I’m drunk but aside from that, I’ve never done anything… stupid, I guess.” You hum in acknowledgement and Gojo starts backing away, tugging you along with him before he motions toward the dance floor. “Now c’mon, I owe you a dance, don’t I?”
It takes you a second or two to allow your body to be pulled properly with him but after that, your hand ends up in his and he soon pulls you through the crowd of people.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
The music gradually gets louder and louder until it consumes the entirety of your senses. You could feel the vibrations of the bass within each step you took, the music blurred throughout your ears, and all the dancing and lingering smell of marijuana and alcohol truly gave you that party atmosphere you’d forgotten about over the years. Before you even realize it, Gojo’s got you somewhere lost amid groups and groups of people dancing, trailing you closest to him using the grasp he had on your hand until you were able to dance right with him.
In contrast to dancing at that gala with him, you feel a lot more at ease here (surprisingly). Instead of gentle sways and intimate slow dancing, it’s more of sensual rolling of bodies against one another and long lasting glances all up and down your body that make you feel warmer than you should be.
Gojo’s got his hands everywhere with little care as to who sees what. From your hips, following their structure and the way you sway them around and against him, to your waist, twirling you around so that your back is facing him one moment and then vice versa so he can gather all of your neon illuminated features.
His favorite bit of the dancing is very obviously when your back is facing him and you dance against him. It’s in the smooth rock of your hips against him that he gets lost in, eyes all casted downward on your lower half, watching the way you dance back against him. One moment he’s smiling and the next he’s genuinely dazed by you. Then again, it could’ve been the alcohol in his system that made all his senses feel heightened like that.
Gojo felt like he was high simply from dancing with you. So much so that at some point he had to ask you if he could go sit down for a bit because you were uh… causing a bit of stiffening to stir up in between his legs. Part of you wanted to tease him about how just a bit of grinding back on him had turned him on but, another part of you was ready to loosen up a bit and partake in some drinking of your own.
Nothing crazy of course but, you felt like you would be a little stiff in the crowd without Gojo by your side and if he wanted to go sit down but you wanted to continue dancing, you’d have to get some alcohol in you to lessen the tension in your body. As such, a small conversation between you and Gojo took place and he ended up pointing you toward the kitchen before letting you know he wouldn’t be too far off.
The house was huge but with the directions he gave you, you figured you’d be fine.
And honestly? You were fine navigating through people on your own this time. But just in case, Gojo did take it a step further and message you the same thing he’d told you (just in case you didn’t hear him perfectly enough over the music).
How considerate of him. You thought to yourself as you made your way down a hallway and toward the far off kitchen.
Upon entering the space, you spot a few people making their own drinks, smoking, or talking with a friend but ultimately it’s a lot more laid back in comparison to the dance floor you’d previously been on. This allows you a moment to breathe, exhaling softly as you make way for the first stack of red plastic cups you find.
As you find a decent space on the counter to prepare your stuff, you begin to replay the small events from this party in your head. Smiling, you realize how wonderful everything’s been going for you thus far. You met two guys who were really nice, one of whom seemed to be acquainted with Gojo, Utahime was really friendly with you, and then dancing with Gojo just felt… nice. It was almost like things had gone too good for you tonight. Well, safe for Hori repeatedly interrupting something for you and failing to even say hi to you.
It’s not like you were expecting her to but, it would’ve been nice. She was standing right in front of you. Twice.
But hey, maybe she didn’t even remember you and the small convo you had with her. After all, this is her party and she clearly knows a lot of people so there’s probably a million and one things occupying that brain of hers. Speaking of which, that small conversation you had with her reminds you… didn’t you invite—
“How much for a ride, princess?” Choso’s voice suddenly hits your ears and you practically flinch out of your skin.
Your elbow instinctively shoots back and you nudge him right in his stomach with a loud yelp, “Jesus-, fuck, Choso!” You spew out before clasping your hands over your mouth in response to the sound of surprise you’d let out. “Scared the hell outta’ me.”
He lets out a laugh in between some sort of cough, probably one provoked from your strike against him just now. Slowly, his coughing fades into a full on chuckle and you move your eyes to gather the sight of him behind you. He’s wearing red and black, his hair tied up into two messy pigtails using these red hair ties, and—holy shit. Choso’s dressed up as Garu from Pucca.
The realization makes you gasp dramatically as you turn around to face him fully. “Oh my God? Are you… Is that a Garu costume?!” You exclaim, moving your hands to his shirt and tugging him a bit close as you study the big red heart imprinted on the center of it.
Choso finally clears his throat and drops his eyes down to the way you’re pinching the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, “Uh, obviously?” He remarks sassily before lifting his gaze to your costume and cocking his head to the side. “And what are you supposed to be? A cowgirl?”
“Obviously,” You say mockingly. “Didn’t you just ask me how much for a ride like twenty seconds ago??”
His red gloved hand moves to brush your touch off of his shirt and then he smirks. “Yeah, ‘n you didn’t even answer, jus’ gave me a mean nudge to the gut…”
“You scared me!” You huff out to him.
Choso’s eyes settle firmly on the cleavage of your tits, not making any sort of attempt to avert his gaze as he talks to you, “I know.” His tone makes it seem as though he did that on purpose. “But I had to get back at you somehow. Who the hell invites their friend to a party and then makes no attempt to see if they’re still coming or if they even made it?”
Oh damn. You did kinda forget about him as soon as you got around Gojo… You don’t think Choso’s even crossed your mind again since earlier that morning. “Ohh uhm, sorry about that.” You say, a slight awkwardness drafting by mere seconds afterwards.
Choso gives you this loose nod of his head before stepping past you. “Yeah uhuh,” He hums casually whilst taking two of those red cups out from their stack. “Too distracted dancin’ with your partner to think about me, right?”
Your eyes follow him as he moves and you watch the way he fixes two drinks—one of them clearly for you. “He… He’s not my partner, Cho. I just—“
“No? But you two are matching,” He points out as he interrupts your next sentence. “Cowboy and Cowgirl too, how cute,” Then, Choso’s turning his head to look at you with this expression you can’t quite read as the next words leave his lips lowly. “Wonder if you’ll ride him the same way you did me.”
“What—“
He scoffs, “Yeah, y’gonna show him all the things you showed me?” He presses even further, taking a step away from preparing those drinks and toward you. Your body seems to not want to listen to you because you remain still and don’t even try to step back. Choso leans in close and angles his head to the side as his eyes remain dead set on yours, “Hm? Are you gonna beg him to fuck you the same way you begged for my cock that night?”
You’re left staring at him all speechless and dumbfounded, no sharp remarks to throw back at him, no attempts at arguing with him, just… nothing.
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🥲 With the way my period went last week, this fic was on my brain constantly. But my god, Bug, I needed time to digest this masterpiece. (I've also saved various of your other works in my drafts to comment on later. I apologize for the reblog spam that is about to happen.)
Kay, now. Let's dive in, shall we? 🥰
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”
What a sweet, sweet, kind man. If I woke up to a freshly cleaned bathroom while on my period, I'd probably cry.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
🥲 Ma'am. I get it. But. The sweet man.
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it.
Sorry, did you say saint??? Saint Joel???
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” “I said yes,” you snap. Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you.
😫 The disrespect. The bitten cheek. (Loved that bit. His annoyance is growing, but he's still keeping his cool. Again, did someone say saint??)
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually.
S' OKAY, SWEET BABY. C'MERE. MAMA'S GOT YOU.
“Your glasses broke.” “Yeah. I see that.” “I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively. “Right.” “But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.”
“You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says.
S' okay 🥲 I was a bitch 🥲 I deserve it 🥲 Do with me as you please 🥲🥲🥲
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”
“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
🫡 Sir yes, sir.
“Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”
I have really bad news for you, then. Ahem.
“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
Ohhh, he's done done. I just *loved* this bit. The frustration, how fed up he is with the reader. Suddenly you're concerned about causing a little bit of work? Oh, hohoho, no no no. Too fucking late.
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary.
😩 Ma'am. Please. I can only take so much. The hotness in just this ONE paragraph. PLEASE. 😩 "An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary." 🥲 I am a puddle on the floor.
Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.
🫠🙃🫠🙃
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”
“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
*inhales* - *screams*
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over… “It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.”
😶 I have died and am now reading this from the depth of hell. Fuuuuck me!
“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.”
The fucking "I know"s kill me. Like, I didn't know two simple words like that could do the things to me that they're doing. But here we are. Is that a kink? Is there an "I know" kink? I think I have it.
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”
😭😭😭 SAY IT WITH ME: JOEL MILLER IS A FUCKING SAINT. A SAINT THAT FUCKS, BUT A SAINT NONETHELESS.
Christ on a cracker, this was delicious from start to finish. I think you have had a lasting impact on how I see (and am trying to write) smut. 😮💨😮💨😮💨
Thank you indeed. 🙌 A masterpiece!!!!
Seeing Red
“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)
Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too
I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚
You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.
“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder.
You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”
“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.”
Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you reply.
“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.”
“Mhm.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”
“Alright. I’ll join you, then.”
You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps.
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”
“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.
“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it.
He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.”
You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t want this,” you grouse.
“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.”
“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.”
Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”
“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice.
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.”
“I said yes,” you snap.
Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”
“Just okay.”
‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being -
Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected.
-
He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”
“Mmm, no.”
Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.”
Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”
“Fuck off, Joel.”
So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that.
-
“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song.
“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble.
“What’re you talkin’ about?”
“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.”
Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”
“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.”
Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch.
“The other one.”
You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace.
So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”
“JESUS,” you yell at him.
“What?”
“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?”
“Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.”
“No. It was burning me.”
“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.”
You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.”
“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.”
“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you.
“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.”
“You can ask, you know.”
But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”
“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.”
“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”
“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.”
“Yes.”
He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?”
“It’s not your business.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.”
“I don’t want to,” you whine.
“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.”
“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.”
“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.”
You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip.
“All of it.”
You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.”
“Yeah. I see that.”
“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.
“Right.”
“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?”
“Somewhere else.”
“Right. Somewhere else.”
He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you.
“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”
Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?”
“Yes.”
Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.”
“Good.”
Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck.
Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass.
-
My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is.
“Joel.”
No answer.
“JOELLLL,” you yell.
Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.”
He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”
You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”
“Hm,” he hums.
“What’s hm?”
“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”
“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.”
Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”
“Try what again?”
You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too.
“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.
“Yeah, but-” you begin.
Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”
He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.
Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.”
It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.
“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”
You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you.
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”
There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel.
“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.
“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”
He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now.
“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
“Fuck me,” you whisper.
“Exactly.”
Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says.
You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”
“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs.
“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”
“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”
“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”
“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while.
“Figures.”
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary.
Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that.
He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it.
“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.
Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.
“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”
“Joel, I– ”
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”
You obey his rule and nod, yes.
He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
Yes. You nod again. Quiet.
“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”
With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before.
With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure.
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…
“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized.
“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.”
With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it.
And fucks you, and fucks you.
And keeps fucking you.
It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”
“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.”
This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.
“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.”
It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”
“I don’t know,” you sniffle.
“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?”
“I’m - I’m–”
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”
“But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.”
He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”
“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”
“I don’t think I can, Joel…”
“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.”
That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”
You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.
He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”
“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.”
Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head.
“Super, yeah. Sore.”
“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷
Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.
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INTERVIEW 030. KICK-ASS murdrtober 2024 remnants. sex machines
Really, you and Kick-Ass should have a handler. Maybe that would keep the two of you from getting into irresponsible, and frankly, odd, situations. Such as this one. 1k+ words MDNI 18+
God, this is so irresponsible. The two of you are irresponsible.
You originally offered to team up with Kick Ass to watch each other’s backs and hold each other accountable. A team, albeit a small one, nothing comparable to Justice Forever.
No other superhero is as active as the two of you, and being alone was never a good look, especially for you. So you needed someone with you, someone strong and recognizable. Someone who sent a message to anyone who even had the idea to threaten you.
Who better than Kick Ass? Plus, you thought he was reliable. Save for the brief stretch where everyone assumed he abandoned his patrols, Kick Ass had been a steady figure in the community, always there to help whoever needed it. In the idea you conjured up of him, he would be that sort of figure in private, too. Someone who would keep you from dicking around as soon as there was a lull on the streets.
Someone who would keep your head straight on your shoulders.
Unfortunately, Kick Ass seemed to be as much of a dumbass as you—possibly even more.
“I mean … when else are you gonna have the opportunity to use something like this.”
And Kick Ass does have a point. The two of you already got what you came here for—a tiny harddrive tucked in your top that you know to have intel about the latest crime boss to terrorize your neighborhood. The penthouse is empty otherwise, and the owner shouldn’t be back for a while, considering she's serving time and all.
You and Kick Ass have the place all to yourselves, but that shouldn’t matter. You should be leaving the way you came out, but as Kick Ass claims: where’s the fun in that?
“What’s it feel like?”
You swallow a moan before attempting to respond, and even when you do, you speak methodically, trying to ward off the way your voice threatens to wobble.
“It feels like I’m being fucked by a machine.”
Kick Ass scoffs. You watch him put his hands on his hips, the muscles in his back flexing. Has his suit shrunk in the wash, or is he just getting buffer by the day? Knowing Kick Ass, it could truly be either. His head turns to the side as if he’s about to turn around, but he stops at the last minute, likely remembering that the one thing you had asked of him was to not look.
“Well that’s not very descriptive.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want me to—” Whatever snarky comeback you were going to throw at him embarrassingly dies before it can be completely born. You can’t help but let out this moan, and to make matters worse, it’s loud.
Louder than the mechanical whirring of the machine working. Louder than the squelch of your cunt sucking up the silicone dildo attached at the end of the mechanism.
You think you see Kick Ass physically shudder, but you can’t tell when you’re struggling to keep your eyes open.
“Is it …” Kick Ass hesitates. He clears his throat and tries again. “Is it better than … you know … a guy?”
You don’t say anything for a minute, too busy trying to balance focusing on the pleasure and attempting to figure out where to go from here. Eventually, you simply say, “Kick Ass?”
When he says, “Yeah,” his voice cracks, but neither of you acknowledge it.
“You can turn around.”
You expected him to question your change of heart. Maybe ask if you were sure. But he doesn’t. He just turns around, the heavy thud of his Timberlands knocking against the hardwood floors one after the other.
You watch his light eyes settle on your face at first, and then slowly crawl down until he’s watching the faux-cock slip in and out of you. His lips part, a voiceless word slipping past them and out into the air.
You don’t have to tell him to come closer, he does that completely on his own. He kneels beside you, attentive eyes flickering back and forth between your spread legs and your eyes with a slight squint that leads you to believe he might need glasses.
Whatever barrier that existed between the two of you before has been completely broken down. You’ll never come back from this, so you might as well feed into it.
When you tell him to kiss you, he doesn’t hesitate. His gloved hands hold your face in place as he practically assaults his mouth with his. It’s sloppy, uncoordinated, and so hot. You’re feeding him moans and he quickly swallows them. You’re sliding your tongue and tongue, mimicking the action of licking ice cream. At one point, you suck Kick Ass’ tongue into your mouth, and he whimpers like a girl. You think he might wet like one, too.
Only one way to find out.
When you pull away, unattractively heaving in breaths of air, you ask him, “Do you wanna fuck me instead? Help me see which is better?”
The pressure is definitely on for him, but he’s so eager with the way he slips his suit and Timberland’s off that you don’t think this could go wrong. And you’re so, so right.
Kick Ass’ eagerness is as useful as it is attractive. You expected his thrusts to be strong and jack hammering, and for a second it is, until you tell him to slow down and then he has passion behind it. Grinding his cock into you, sending all of his length deeper and deeper and gliding his girth along the ridges of your walls. It’s so much better than the unforgiving pace of the machine, and you make sure he knows, too.
Scratching his back, threading your fingers into the curls you’d never seen before today, wrapping your ankles around his back and pulling him as deep as you can get him. You don’t know what you expected, but he certainly exceeds your expectations.
He does wet like a girl, too.
And he’s loud. So vocal as he sings praises about how good your cunt feels (your pussy, as he calls it), how thankful he is that you’re letting him do this, how he’s thought of this ever since the two of you teamed up for the first time.
“I know, Kick-Ass,” you tell him, minutely nodding as you dig your fingernails into the cushion beneath you. “I know. Me too.”
“Dave,” he corrects.
You tell him your name, and then not even a second later you’re moaning his name. He slumps forward, nestling his head into the crook of your neck. His hand comes to the top of your head, holding you to him as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“You close?”
You nod, your nose brushing against his shoulder as your breathing increases. “I’m so close, Dave.”
“Yeah? You gonna come?” Dave asks, and you can hear the smile when he says it.
You hit him, because you just said that, but all of the strength in your body is focused on getting you there so it’s nothing more than a weak punch that actually makes him laugh.
“Prove it to me,” he taunts, the competitive side to him that you're so used to coming out. “C’mon. Show me.”
#kick ass x reader#kick ass smut#dave lizewski x reader#dave lizewski x you#icarus writes misc#murdrtober 2024#kinktober
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Oh, oh, Buggy for the kissing booth please? (And if someone is in line ahead of me could I be tagged for him? 👉👈) Thank you! 🧡🧡🧡 This is such a fun idea!
-rorywritesjunk
(imma just request from main now on)
The Kissing Booth - Buggy for Rorywritesjunk
Word Count: 1,400+
Notes: Thank you so much for your patience, Rory! It's been a little while since I've done one of these! True to his form, here is the fail-forward clown in all his charismatic glory. Thank you for being here, and I hope you enjoy his kisses!
Taking a few final breaths to calm yourself down, ears pricked at the approach of heavy boots crunching gravel beneath the firm leather heels. Jingles of trinkets falling from jackets and belt buckles is what you assumed the twinkling chime sound was, but you knew better than to make an assumption on a stranger.
Laughter and merriment flung from the throats to christen the atmosphere with their joy, unintentionally drawing your own to bubble in your chest at the seriously large influx of unusual laughs. Not so much the content they were laughing at, but the laughs themselves was what had you teetering out soft giggles.
“The hell is-...?” A nasally voice cut out, as the halt of his feet stood at the path before where you sat, “...A ‘Kissing Booth’? How does that work?” A few voices began to whisper amongst themselves as the boots drew ever nearer.
Straightening your back, you shook yourself clear of any nerves as your posture became more alert and attentive. The crunch and crackle of boots meeting the floor halted and you felt your nose pick up the first whiff of their cologne. A deep musk and playful fruity scents interwoven with the spray of the sea, alongside something that almost matched the acidity of lemon sweets, met your nose and caused your mind to wander. Before you could make a motion to speak, their voice interrupted your monologuing with the same nose-front resting tone.
“What do I do? Just sit in front of you and get a facefull of tongue?” the voice asked with confusion laced in their tone. “Are you even any good? No offense intended or anything.”
You immediately reclined in your stool with your brow furrowing beneath the mask at his questioning. Hooking one leg over your knee, you fold your arms and turn your face from the stranger.
“If I wasn’t any good, I wouldn't have volunteered for this,” you huff, angling your chin in the air and electing to ignore him. “And no, I don’t give out a ‘faceful of tongue’. If that’s your idea of a kiss, please, by all means, jog on.”
“‘Jog on’?” He mimicked you, moving towards the guest seat and plopping himself down on the surface, “Crew, you lot ‘jog on’. I’m gonna have words with this one.”
“You sure, Captain?” another voice asked the man, only being met with a few sounds of claps of hands meeting shoulders and directions for the person to hush. Overlaps of: “We can go on the ferris wheel,” “Boss is letting us of the leash,” “The captain wants some privacy,” and “I want to hit the barbeque,” was released in hushed whispers as footsteps immediately fled the scene unfolding between you and this ‘Captain’.
After the sounds of feet meeting the ground left to a complete vacation from your proximity, a few leaves of paper crumpled into the jar beside you by the hands of your guest.
“I-... uh-...” they began, slowly scooting the stool closer to you, “I’m sorry about the tongue thing. I don’t know what that was all about. A-And for judging your abilities to kiss. I’m sure you are a fine kisser, and considering I’ve paid my Berry, I mean… If you’re still wanting to… I just… I’m sorry.”
You still angled your face away from him, only now pursing your lips to stifle a rising smile on your face. Slowly but surely, you turned to face him and extended your right hand out to offer him your truce. You felt his shrouded hand meet with yours, noticing a slightly worn fuzz to the leathery material before you felt contact meet with your knuckles.
Breath warmed your skin before his lips descended to the middle knuckle: pursed in a perfect heart shape to caress your skin. Holding their lips there for a moment longer, they removed them and thumbed over the spot.
“Forgiven then?” the voice asks you softly. You slowly turn your shrouded face towards him and give him a polite nod.
“I’m sure your comment was offered in jest,” you smile at him, your hand still placed within his own. “And that was a very unique way to use your donation. Most people go for the lips.”
The hand wrapped around yours tensed, frozen in place as their breath hitched in their throat.
“That wasn’t-, I didn’t mean-, kiss on-, was that-?” his words all jumbled together like a clown missing each juggling ball on their descent. You chuckled at his words, unlacing your knees and leaning towards him.
“I was joking,” you nod at him, slowly moving your hand up to where you assume his face was. Immediately, his remaining other hand blocked your touch: his thumb in the center of your palm and for fingers circling over your fingers.
“Don’t,” they warned you, moving in closer, “It’s… It’s better if you hold still and I lean in. Uh… In fact.” Their face felt closer to yours, each moment seeming to bob against your face without ever making contact, “If… If you could tilt your head a little…”
You furrowed your brows, but complied with his request. Tilting your head to the right, giving him more of an invitation, you were unsure as to what you were expecting.
Only seconds pass until you feel contact being slowly pressed against your face. Not your lips, but stamped against your cheek, a round object squished against your skin as they moved their lips ever closer.
‘A nose?’ you thought to yourself, refusing to question their actions and only tilting your chin up as a response. As you angled your face upwards, you felt his lips meet with yours. Timidity, uncertainty, and a small quiver was found in the lips of this formerly confident captain. Each motion was slow as he opened up more to the kiss.
Slowly moving his lips against yours, he expelled a breathy sigh as you reciprocated all of his movements. Mouthing at your lips, he flicked his tongue out to playfully brush with your bottom lip, only to immediately whimper as you parted them to accept him. His hands left yours, regrouping to cup your face with his gloved hands. Pinky fingers at your jaw, he held you steady as he added more pressure to the intensity of his kiss.
His head tilted to change angles, offering you a few more fluttered kisses as he swapped directions, brushing the rotund tip of his nose against yours in the interlude between his deep kiss. The moans from his throat intensified as you drew your hand to his chest and held firm to his collar, never breaking the kiss first for fear that you would pull away too quickly.
There was no stop to the motions, using all in his power to continue claiming more of you against himself while attempting to breath as much of you in as he could. The way he kissed you was as if you were the last kiss he would ever have before resolving himself to the gallows. The need for air began to tug at your lungs, as was his own, prompting him to break the kiss with a smacked pucker of his lips on yours.
“I-...” he choked as he panted through the heave of his lungs screaming at him, “...Am Buggy. And that?” you felt his clothed thumb press against your lips, brushing the skin in a smooth swipe, “That was a really good kiss. Hold still for me, starlight?”
“Hold still-?” your question dies on your lips as you feel him begin to swipe a wet piece of material over your lips and dab at a few key spots on your skin.
“I… I wear paints, and you got a little transferred on you,” he commented with a small chuckle, “Don’t you worry, you’ll be all back to how you were when I clean you up. Just keep sitting as you are, and I’ll be done in a second, alright?”
You did as you were told, asking no questions while Buggy dutifully cleaned up your features with every slow movement. As he said, it was all over in a quick moment. As he pulled the cloth away from your skin, he took a moment to ponder you as you sat on the booth.
“When you’re all done up here, ‘shut up shop’ as it were,” he pressed the towel to the tip of your nose and playfully dabbed you, “Let me take you out? Just as an apology for the earlier comment about the faceful of tongue and the judgment on your ability.”
You hum thoughtfully and purse your lips in mock thought. Taking a second to yourself, you smile with your nose crinkled in a playful scrunch.
“I’ll think about it.”
#one piece#x reader#ask snail#snail answers#the kissing booth#buggy#buggy the clown#kissing booth event#follower milestone#one piece x reader#x gn!reader#one piece fluff#op buggy#buggy x reader#one piece kisses
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Hii!! Just a thought, would any of the yanderes baby trap a particularly difficult reader?
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘-𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆…
!!! GN reader, children (lmao), manipulation, coercion into parenting, delusions, slight threats, impregnation mention (it’s not the reader, though), obligatory Tim Drake warning, mentions of possible harm to children.
I’m assuming you just mean the comic book yanderes. Let’s see!
I kept the actual baby-acquisition vague. Could be one or both of y’all’s biological kid, could be adopted, could be kidnapped. Who knows! I also gave them ratings on how they would be as a father, cuz why not.
Bruce Wayne: Yes. Absolutely. This is Bruce we’re talking about. You know, the guy who’s never beating the empty-nester allegations? As long as you’re with him, you’re bound to end up with a kid one way or another. Whether he set out to baby trap you or ended up with a child by chance, he is for sure going to hold it over your head. This kid is going to have both of their parents in their life, biological or not. It’s like a new kid spawns in the manor every time you get even a little bit rebellious. (7/10 father; still has his issues, but he’s learned from his past mistakes.)
Bucky Barnes: Okay, I don’t think he’d initially see himself as a family man. Just never crossed his mind, given his life as the Winter Solider. If he did end up with a kid, it would definitely be by accident. But when that happens, he’ll start to give it a little more thought. The idea of a family… it sounds so domestic; so normal. Uh-oh. Instant baby fever. Now he wants even more kids, and he’ll acquire them by any means necessary. Doesn’t manipulate you with any children, but you may feel obligated to stick around; the Winter Soldier does NOT seem like the type to be good at parenting. (5/10 father; doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s at least enthusiastic.)
Clark Kent: This man wants the classic nuclear family life. While he wouldn’t set out to baby-trap you, it will inadvertently happen with his desire for children. He wants to be tackled by at least 3 kids every time he comes home! And if he’s already had Jon, I can see him making it his mission to find the perfect spouse; that’s how he finds you!! Oh, you’re not good with kids? Doesn’t matter. This man is delusional as fuck. It’s not like he sees you for who you are, anyway. Keep in mind that he’s projecting an idealized version of a spouse onto you. (10/10 father; amazing with kids and is willing to pull your weight when you’re being difficult.)
Dick Grayson: If it comes down to it, he will. Any form of manipulation is fair game, and hey… he’s always dreamed of starting a family of his own one day. Even if you’re not big on kids, he’s willing to play the long game to try and get you to change your mind. And if you never do? Welp. That’s too bad. You’re still gonna end up with a child somehow (Dick’s got plenty of ways to make sure of that). When he finally gets what he wants, he’s for sure using the “think of our kid(s)” card any chance he gets. (9/10 father; he’s a family man at heart, and everyone around him thinks it was only a matter of time.)
Hal Jordan: A bit iffy on starting a family. He doesn’t hate kids, he just isn’t sure if he’s ready. However, as soon as he realizes a child in your life could make you more compliant, he quickly starts to sing a different tune. Now he’s all for having kids!! He’d be obsessed with the power it gives, every interaction between you two having that subtle warning of, “try and escape me now.” Papa-Bear Hal is not a force to be reckoned with. You may find yourself not liking the consequences of trying to break up this happy little family. (8/10 father; there’s a bit of a learning curve for him, but he’ll eventually fall into the groove of it.)
Jaime Reyes: Nope. The thought of having kids makes him sick to his stomach. He knows there’s something wrong with him… god only knows what would happen to his kids. The what if’s would drive him insane, easily trumping the possible gains of baby-trapping you. Sure, it might be a bit tempting — and he’ll admit, a small part of him wishes he could one day be a father — but not only would he feel extremely guilty, he also knows that it’s a bad fucking idea. Hopefully, he can continue to ignore Khaji Da’s own thoughts on the matter. It doesn’t matter how important “continuing the Reyes legacy” is, he’s not taking that risk. (6/10 father; despite his fits of spiraling paranoia, he needs to give himself a little more credit).
Peter Parker: Honestly, it’s a toss up. He’s got his concerns with being a father, but thinking about it makes him all giddy inside. I think this would be another case of accidental baby-trapping. He didn’t set out to do it, but hey… if it works, it works. Any “but what about our kid(s)” that he throws at you is by no means intentional manipulation; he’s just genuinely worried what would happen if you left. Then again, I can also see him slightly doing it. As soon as he realizes it works, he’ll keep it in mind. A thing he’ll tuck away for later and only use when absolutely needed. (9/10 father; loves his kid(s) and would do anything for them).
Remy LeBeau: Yeah, probably. As long as he’s in a position where he can have a kid or two, he’ll go for it. Remy secretly longs for a family (though he’ll never admit it), and if starting one means earning your compliance? Well, shit… that’s just killing two birds with one stone! But again, this depends on if he’s in a position where kids are viable. Should he still have some unfinished business to attend to, he’s not gonna be dumb enough to have kids. Growing up in the Thieves Guild taught him a thing or two about why that’s a bad idea. Otherwise, you are not immune to a sudden baby-acquisition by yours truly. (7/10 father; he gives chill baby daddy vibes who tries his best to be there for his kids.)
Scott Summers: Oh, yeah. It’s guaranteed to happen. This man is committed to having a semi-normal life, no matter how unrealistic that may seem. He wants a family. He wants you to be obedient. He wants a sense of normalcy, goddamnit. Y’all are having a kid whether you want one or not. And he leans heavily towards having a biological kid. If you don’t have the means to get pregnant — or fight tooth and nail against the idea — he’s 100% impregnating someone else and stealing their baby. Yes, it’s a crazy idea. Yes, he’s willing to go that far. Don’t test him. He’ll yell and shout at you about how you need to be there for this fucking kid, even if it’s not yours. It’s in your best interest if you comply. (6/10 father; he’s chronically fighting against the absent father allegations and MIGHT be winning… results are still pending.)
Steve Roger: Poor guy wants to settle down so bad. Yes, he’d baby-trap you, but I can see him feeling guilty for it. He knows it’s wrong, and it would especially weigh down on him if you didn’t even want kids in the first place. But he wants a family so bad. He can’t help it!! And as big of a piece of shit he may feel afterwards, he’ll do what’s necessary to make you behave. You need to be here for your kids! If a little bit of manipulation makes you stay, then so be it. He’s surprisingly good at guilt-tripping, making a good case with the image he has to uphold as Captain America. What would people think if they learned he was a single father? What assumptions would they make about you if you left him? Society might not be all that kind to you. It’s best to just stay. (8/10 father; can get a little busy, but he’s definitely there when it matters the most.)
Tim Drake: Not a fan of kids. There might be a chance of him coming up with a baby-trapping scheme during one of his weird fits, but let’s hope he snaps out of it before it’s too late. Do NOT let bro be a father. On the off-chance that he does acquire a kid… pray. And I mean PRAY. His version of baby-trapping ranges from “but this kid needs you” to “I will fucking kill this kid if you leave.” A situation like this means you have to familiarize yourself with Tim’s mood swings. Be compliant at first, then when he starts to second-guess himself, try to gently coax him into giving this child a better home. Hopefully, that poor kid will survive everything unscathed. Tim wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something bad happened to them. (0/10 father; he’d actually do an alright job when he’s mentally stable, but I think everyone — including Tim himself — would agree that he’d do more harm than good raising a kid.)
Wally West: Yup. No hesitation. As soon as the thought crosses his mind, he will get to scheming immediately. His goal would be to make it seem like a natural evolution, even if you’re not keen on the idea of kids. Wally is such a master at masking his manipulation, to the point where it’s unclear if he’s actually baby-trapping you or not, and by the time you’ve realize it… welp… too late. Arguing with him is absolutely frustrating, cuz Wally West does not argue; he smooth talks until makes you feel like an idiot. Wanna know how cruel he is? Those kids will grow up to be accomplices in his manipulation, whether they know it or not. No one can put a stop to his fuckery. (9/10 parent; turns out to be a phenomenal father, I just have to take a point off simply because raising your kids to be just as manipulative as him probably isn’t good.)
#❥ CALL INCOMING: DO YOU LIKE SCARY MOVIES?#❥ TW: YANDERE#❥ YANDERE CHARACTER#❥ ROMANTIC YANDERE#❥ YANDERE BRUCE WAYNE#❥ YANDERE BUCKY BARNES#❥ YANDERE CLARK KENT#❥ YANDERE DICK GRAYSON#❥ YANDERE HAL JORDAN#❥ YANDERE JAIME REYES#❥ YANDERE PETER PARKER#❥ YANDERE REMY LEBEAU#❥ YANDERE SCOTT SUMMERS#❥ YANDERE STEVE ROGERS#❥ YANDERE TIM DRAKE#❥ YANDERE WALLY WEST#❥ YANDERE VARIOUS X READER#❥ GN READER
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here u go pronoun pop meant to post this first but posted it on my main whoops
🦢Swansea x Reader Headcanons (platonic, romantic)🦢
PLATONIC
-So first headcanon is completely unrelated to both platonic and romantic, but this man is so midwestern. You mean to tell me the Sam’s Club meat selection doesn’t hate to see him comin? Okay pal. He is so southern midwestern it is crazy.
-If you’re around his age, which I know you aren’t, thank god in theory. God, this man needs a normal person on this ship. Someone to complain about retirement years and ‘these damn kids’ with.
-Either way, if you’re buddies with him, cool. Being close with Swansea isn’t really on a sliding scale-if you’re ‘in’ you’re in. For lifers. He won’t tell you, but you’ll know, even if he does tell you you couldn’t pour water out a boot with instructions on the heel. C’mon. C’mon, he likes you, I swear.
-If you’re in the same boat as Daisuke, you know, young, you’re getting the same treatment as him. You could be the most precocious, intelligent little college student out there and he’s still waiting for you to fuck that up. The only way he’s gonna assume you won’t fuck up is if you’re in an iron lung, in which case, you’re taking up too much space
-I make him sound like an asshole. He is. But with a heart, you know? He cares. Or at least cares about your safety. And honestly if he had two interns to look over, at least yall can keep each other busy.
-Not trying to like, intern!reader au you, but man if you were the other intern and Daisuke was busy being dead and all, prepare for the longest speech you’ve ever heard. Every. Pearl’s 8 minute monologue betting on losing dogs has nothing on this talk.
-Anyway, in short, he’s just some guy, but aren’t we all……….
ROMANTIC
-oh yeah baby get ready to be underwhelmed!!
-He is going to feel so dumb having a crush at his old age. Like, this is marriage age, whatever. He never expected to find someone this late, especially on the Pony Express of all places. But hey, you must be the prettiest pony in the pasture you know what I’m sayin?
-Yeah, anyway, confession would be pretty simply. “Hey what do you think about seeing each other after this shipment.” I mean, not much has to be said. You get it.
-Literally no one can tell you’re together. He would be more helpful with you and a bit more friendly, but mostly everything’s the same.
-Petnames. Nothing stupid like babygirl/babyboy, whatever.
-He likes to compliment you on the sly, nothing huge, but stuff like ‘only you could make that uniform work’ or telling you to go bat your pretty eyelashes at someone else. Is that a compliment? You don’t know, but he’s not saying it to anyone else and you’ll take what you can get.
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I’m watching a YT channel react to season 4 and it’s wild to me how people in the comments think that Will was “letting go” of Mike in the van scene and that this was the conclusion of his feelings for Mike because it’s “not meant to be.” Someone even called that interpretation of it “poignant.”
Like I’m sorry in what world is a gay boy sacrificing his feelings so the straight ship can be together “poignant” unless it’s not the conclusion of this arc and the real conclusion is his feelings actually being reciprocated????
And why even have him fall in love with Mike if that’s how they were gonna conclude it?? They could’ve just made him gay and allude to that by having him have a moment of tension with a boy at school in Lenora or maybe instead of Mike and him having weird awkward tension because of their mutual feelings for each other that only Will has come to terms with, have them be perfectly fine and have a boy Will’s crushing on be there too so he’s super distracted and self conscious or smth
And then instead of Will’s painting, if you want M*leven endgame and to not make it seem like Will’s in love with Mike, just have it so that El actually commissioned a painting from Will or some other gift that she didn’t have a chance to give him after Rink o Mania, and have Will still say that Mike makes him feel like he’s not a mistake but have it be clear it’s coming from Will because this Will isn’t in love with Mike and wouldn’t be afraid to say that and wouldn’t hide it behind pretense
Just!!! There is literally no reason to make Will be in love with Mike just to show the audience that Will is gay. Like, it can’t just function as that. It can’t just function as only that. Doing that is needlessly cruel to Will. And I hope no one in the GA tries to argue that it was so “Will had something to do this season“ because I will scream lmao
I think I’ve sent some variation of this statement before in an ask but giving Will some rando love interest last minute will never be nearly as cathartic as a Byler endgame, and Will Byers deserves so much catharsis and joy after everything he’s been through
I can’t wait for people who thought the van scene was the conclusion of his feelings for Mike to have the shock of their lives in season 5
Hello! How are you?
I find it interesting that people think that the scene was Will "letting go" because is not "meant to be".
So this will become a rant, be prepared lmao.
Firstly, what you said is very interesting because there's a clear difference between what is said to us by Will vs what the show itself says.
Will thinks Mike didn't call (the show tells us that he's been trying to call nonstop but never could).
Will thinks Mike loves El (the show is literally telling us he can't even say it).
Will thinks Mike won't care about the painting if it came from him (Mike fucking lights up like a Christmas tree when he sees it and thinks it came from him).
Will is scared of being honest with Mike because he assumes he'll lose his friendship because Mike is in love with El (Mike literally nods when Will suggests something about being afraid to be honest with someone in reference to El but Will doesn't see it).
So there's point number one here.
Point number 2 which is the one I keep coming back to over and over again.
I can't think of a function for the Will is in love with Mike plot. None.
It makes absolutely no difference from a narrative standard. Like, you said it yourself.
He could be gay and not have these very deep feelings for his best friend.
If they wanted to give him a lot interesting that wouldn't feel cheap they could've done it already. I mean, they introduced us Argyle, Eddie, Chrissy (rip girl) AND Jason and you're telling me they couldn't introduce someone else? Bullshit.
I want the writers to sit me down and tell me exactly how is Will being in love necessary, at all. Is like you said, if he's there to fix a relationship he could do without being in love, is just have El actually commissioning the painting. Is not complicated.
And the irony of the van scene is that Will assumes is the conclusion to the ordeal. While he was jealous of El at first, in the end, when he saw Mike hurting and talking himself down he couldn't stand and did what he thought he had to. Will already assumes (as the audience does) that this is the end for him.
He just wants Mike to be happy, which is already proof enough that he loves Mike from the bottom of his heart and that even if he isn't happy, Mike is which is all that matters to him. That's love.
So Will already thinks is over, but the thing is, the more you look at it the less over the whole thing feels. Like, what do you mean ia over but there's still a huge ass lie to think about?
How is it over when El isn't even talking to Mike by the end of the season even after she supposedly heard what she wanted it to heat?
How is it over when is clear that Mike told Will they'd be a team and that they'd best Vecna together?
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Can I rant and ask for advice as well?
Because everyone is like “oh, just persist”, “ignore 3D”, “once you assume, it’s already yours”. But guess fucking what? I’ve been doing it but where the hell is everything I’m manifesting. It’s mine now right? So, why can’t I use it? To give context, there’s a contest I joined. And I’m aiming for the grand prize. Literally, believed that it’s mine. Just waiting for that email confirmation since the winner was supposed to be announced/notified last week. And nothing. The fuck is this??
Also, with regards to manifesting, I have been having a hard time. Because if I believe, and I do, but why is not in 3D. I can ignore 3D, but I also need what I’m manifesting here in 3D cause damn I want you to start changing my life.
I keep on spiralling. Cause why the fuck is it not here when it’s supposed to be instant? The fuck am I doing wrong. I’m so tired and exasperated!! Cause what the fuck is this? If I’m god, whatever I think/believe is. So why isn’t it?
Like I’m changing my self-concept to someone who’s lucky and win whatever I join in. But I just joined a game today (different from the contest), and I’m the only one who left not winning anything. Even when I’m consciously manifesting.
Wtf is this? What am I doing wrong?
Can you just give me the simplest and easiest and fastest way to manifest cause this is making me cry more that it is helping me.
Okay here's my opinion.
You are sooo focused on the 3d and i understand that because if i was in your position i'll do the same thing.
But let's look at it from another perspective.
If you were a lucky person, would you feel confident that you'll win? Of course you will.
That a state you will have, you'll identify with someone who's lucky and Always win in any game or competition, you feel me?
I'll tell you a little scenario that happened when i watched Harry Potter (if you know it lol):
Ron was going to play the quidditch game and he was going to play as the guard, but he felt super stressed and he really wanted to do good in the game so their team would win, so Harry told him that he literally putted the Lucky potion in his drink so ron quickly drank it and felt super good but then, hermione told harry why did you put it in his drink and that it was a stupid Idea, Harry told her that he didn't put the Lucky potion, he literally tricked Ron into thinking that he putted the Lucky potion in his drink, and Guess what? Ron won the game.
You understood it? That means it all about Mindset, if you were confident that you'll win in your game, it was going to happen.
Confident means that you are so sure that it gonna happen and you'll win the game.
What makes you confident? Because you know that you already have it in imagination, it already happened, it like you watched a movie so many times that you know the drill, you know what going to happen next, so treat imagination as that.
Persist in imagination do not persist in the 3d.
When you see something happening in the 3d, go check your 4d instead.
When they Say that you already have your desires, they mean that there's a reality where that version of you already won that game.
I advice you to read this post.
If you want more information read this.
Don't be sad, you Can Always revise and change it, even if it too late.
Remember: consciousness is the only reality.
Xoxo, Eli
#law of assumption#loa tumblr#loa#loa blog#law of manifestation#how to manifest#loassumption#asks#anon ask#void state#affirm and manifest 🫧 🎀✨ ִִֶָ ٠˟
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Bad Idea - Pt 2
Synopsis: Your step-brother is in debt to Rafe Cameron. Knowing he won’t be able to pay Rafe back, you step up. What a bad idea.
18+
Series content warning – swearing, slow burn, depictions of aggression, jealousy, drug usage, violence, underage drinking, smut
Chapter content warning – mentions of drug usage, violence, aggression, underage drinking
pt 1
***
The Wreck was generally always slammed. It was reliable work and the owners were nice enough to guarantee you shifts when you were home from college. You never seemed to have a moment to relax on your shifts due to how busy it was.
Except for today.
Of all days, of course today was the one day it was slower than normal. Why wouldn’t it be? Obviously, life had it out for you.
It was so slow that your friends were able to come visit you at work. Even crazier, you had time to actually sit down and talk to them.
“I say you shouldn’t bail Carson out.” Lacey shrugged. “He’s always pulling you into shit.”
“You didn’t see him.” You shook your head at her. “It was really bad. I think his nose might be broken.”
Caroline took another fry from their shared plate before saying, “I’m with Lacey. Remember when he threw that party in high school and was ‘too hung over’ to clean up? You spent, like, the whole day cleaning so that he wouldn’t get caught.”
Lacey snorted and dipped her fry in ketchup. “Which time?”
You rolled your eyes. “He’s family.”
“He’s your step-brother.” Lacey deadpanned.
Caroline lightly nudged her. “Chill.”
“I’m just saying.” Lacey held her hands up in defense. “You didn’t know him like 3 years ago.”
“I didn’t know you back then either.” You pointed out. “I would do this for you guys, too.”
Lacey and Caroline were among the first friends that you met when you transferred to the private school. Your friendship with them solidified when all three of you decided to go to the same college. Lacey and Caroline were roommates.
“Oh shit,” Lacey laughed. She looked past you towards the entrance then back at you. “Guess who just showed up.”
Your first instinct told you that it was Carson, but when you turned your head you were met with an intimidating set of blue eyes. You immediately slid down in the booth hoping that he wouldn’t notice you yet.
“Maybe he’s just here for food.” Caroline suggested.
“Yeah, for sure.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’m sure him showing up to my place of work within the last hour of us being open has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I owe him money.”
“Sorry for being optimistic,” Caroline mumbled.
You groaned, bringing both hands up to rub your face. “I thought he was gonna show up to my house again after my shift. I didn’t think he’d come here.” Though, you had no idea why you never considered this possibility.
“Maybe he was excited to see you.” Lacey teased. She laughed a bit. “He just couldn’t wait.”
You couldn’t help but crack a grin at Lacey’s joke. “No one can resist my charm.”
You felt yourself tense up when you saw the host approaching you with an apologetic look on her face.
“Hey, sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but you just got seated.” She told you.
You sighed and nodded your head. “Thanks, Elliot.” When the girl left, you turned to your friends. “I’m assuming he’s going to wait until the end of my shift when I get paid. You guys can go ahead and leave. I’ll meet y’all the Boneyard later.”
Caroline looked at you with a small frown on her face. “Are you sure? I wanted us all to ride together.”
You smiled at her. You appreciated that she was hesitant about going without you.
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’d have to shower anyway. I don’t wanna make y’all wait on me.” You reassured her. “If you guys want, you can uber there and I can still DD on the way home.”
Lacey tapped her rings against the plastic cup. “Maybe Noah could take us.” She suggested. “That way we wouldn’t have to pay for an Uber.”
You stood up from the table, picking up your notepad and pen. “Sure, if you can convince him.”
In the 8 months you had been dating Noah, he only attempted to DD once. That attempt ended in you forcing him to leave his truck at the bar due to the several beers he had ended up having.
Lacey smiled at you, “Great.”
As your friends left, you turned to where Rafe was sitting. You felt dread settling into the pit of you stomach. He hadn’t seen you yet, since he was on his phone. You tried to remind yourself of Caroline’s optimism. Maybe he did actually want to eat something.
Doubtful. But it was a possibility.
You forced a polite smile on your face and walked to Rafe’s table.
“Hey, Rafe.” You greeted. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Rafe looked up at you, studying your face. You did your best not to let your smile falter. He watched you for an awkwardly long period of time. You began to shift uncomfortably on your feet.
“I can give you a minute if you want.” You offered.
“Do you honestly think I’m here for food?” Rafe asked.
You clicked your pen closed and dropped your arms in an exasperated manner. All pretenses of being polite were immediately dropped.
“I don’t know, Rafe.” You sighed. “I’m trying not to make any assumptions about your character.”
He slightly narrowed his eyes at you. “And what assumptions do you already have about ‘my character’?”
Jackass. Womanizer. Jerk. Spoiled. Dick–
“I try not to judge people before I know them.” You settled with.
He let out an amused chuckle. “Right.’
“If you’re here for my money you’re gonna have to wait.“ You told him. “I probably won’t be able to leave for another hour and a half. You might as well get something to eat before the kitchen closes.”
Rafe leaned his head back, scratching his neck like he was annoyed at the whole situation.
“I’ll just take some fries then.”
You blinked, not actually expecting him to get anything. You half expected him to make some comment about waiting for you at your house or outside or something.
“Oh. Sure.” You quickly scribbled it down to give to the kitchen.
“And I’m not tipping you.”
This time you did roll your eyes. “I assumed.” You clicked your pen closed and walked to the kitchen.
Fries were normally ready pretty much every moment of the day due to the popularity of it. You got them within 30 seconds of asking one of the line cooks. You could go back and give Rafe his fries quickly.
Or you could make him wait.
You slowly smiled to yourself, thinking about it.
You weren’t going to make him wait too long in reality. The kitchen was hot and the cooks were cranky, so you didn’t want to be back there. You were also still a little scared of Rafe. Not a lot, but enough to where you didn’t want to piss him off too much. But the few extra minutes of defiance for some reason felt so good.
You came back out to Rafe, placing his plate and water on the table. He picked up a fry, inspecting it.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
He shrugged. “Making sure you didn’t spit in my food.”
You crossed your arms, offended. “I wouldn’t do that.” You scoffed, then added, “And that’d be obvious on fries. If I wanted my spit to go unnoticed then I would’ve done it in your water.” You tapped your temple a couple times. “You gotta think about these things.”
Rafe looked at you skeptically. “Did you spit in my water?”
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”
Rafe rolled his eyes in response before eating another fry.
The rest of your shift dragged on. Eventually, Rafe moved to wait on the bench just outside the entrance. You were grateful that you didn’t have to delay any of your closing responsibilities for him.
After tipping out the bar, the kitchen, and the host, you had nearly $250 that you were able to give Rafe in addition to the $350 you had from the day prior. There was a very small amount you were allowing to keep for yourself, but he didn’t need to know that.
You frowned as you looked around the restaurant, wishing there was something else you could do to stall the inevitable. Sighing, you told the bar a quick “goodnight” and went outside to meet Rafe.
Irritatingly, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. He continued to text on his phone. You held out the money in front of his screen wordlessly to get his attention.
“Pleasure doing business with you.” Rafe drawled.
You opened your mouth to give a snarky reply, but you held back. You just wanted to be done for the day. Giving a tight lipped smile, you spun on your heel to leave.
“Hold up.” His words made you pause in step.
You shut your eyes in frustration when you heard him start counting the money to himself. You turned around to face him again.
“This isn’t even $600. Where’s the rest?”
“I’m working again Wednesday. I can pay you whatever’s left then.”
Rafe shook his head, laughing. “That wasn’t the deal.”
You crossed your arms, feeling anger bubble in your chest. Technically, you didn’t owe Rafe anything. This wasn’t your debt to pay. Rafe was only getting the money from you because obviously he wasn’t going to get it from your step-brother.
There was an extra $20 you could give him, but it was the principle that made you not want to. You knew you should keep quiet, or maybe even apologize, but you always had a thing with anger. After all, you were your father’s daughter.
“We never had a deal. Maybe if you did something better with your life besides dealing drugs then you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.”
Rafe’s face went blank for a moment. It was a terrifying neutral that should’ve been your hint to start running, but you knew from experience that running from someone’s anger would only make it worse. You tried to keep your face passive, but you couldn’t help but to take a step back when Rafe stood up to tower over you. You stared at his chest not wanting to meet his eye.
“You wanna try saying some shit again?” He asked. You clenched your jaw and continued to stare straight at his chest. “Huh? You want me to get the rest from your brother?” Rafe pressed.
“I don’t have anything else. I can get you the rest Wednesday.”
“I’m not waiting until Wednesday.”
God, he was so impatient. You’d think someone like him would be fine waiting a few days for $150. It was almost like he actually needed the money.
You blinked, the sudden realization crashing down on you.
Did Rafe need the money?
If you basically shamed him for sounding desperate, would he back down? Your heart sped up as you contemplated trying out your theory. You swallowed nervously before speaking.
“I mean, if you really need the money, I can check my car to see if I have any extra lying around.” You tried your best to keep your tone as innocent as possible.
Rafe narrowed his eyes at you. “I don’t need anything, pogue.”
You felt a little more confident, feeling as if your plan was working. “Sorry,” you said. “Just trying to be nice.”
Rafe stared at you for a long, lingering moment. For a second, you were scared he would hear how loud your heart was beating.
You began to wonder if you had pushed your luck too much tonight. What if he ended up taking his anger out on Carson?
The silence was loud, the way he was watching you was even louder. After those deafening few minutes, Rafe left without another word.
You let out a loud breath you didn’t realize had been holding.
***
“There she is!” Noah cheered with a slurred voiced.
The Boneyard was in full swing by the time you had showered, gotten dressed, and driven over. Carson was at the house and there was no sign that Rafe had been there to harass him, so you considered your earlier interaction with the kook king a small victory.
You laughed at the way Noah was swaying a bit. “Yeah – you’re welcome.” You joked. “The party can officially start now.”
“Noah–” Lacey stumbled up to you and your boyfriend with a wide grin. Her smile slightly faltered when she saw you. “Oh, you’re here! I was just about to ask Noah where you were.”
“I’m here.” You smiled. “I like your top.”
“Thanks.” Was all she said in return. You had expected her to start talking about where she had gotten it from. She loved talking about that kind of stuff. Instead, the three of you stood in silence. You weren’t sure why, but you began slowly nodding your head.
“I’m gonna go get a drink.” You announced. “I’ll be right back.” You just wanted to rid yourself of the awkward atmosphere.
You greeted a few people on the way to the cooler you spotted upon arrival. You grabbed one of the water bottles for yourself since you knew you were going to be driving everyone home later.
“Hey, pogue!”
The familiar voice made you tense up, and you felt torn between rolling your eyes and shooting him your middle finger, or leaving the Boneyard all together to avoid confrontation. Unfortunately, your indecision gave Rafe enough time to catch up to you.
God, you just couldn’t get rid of this guy.
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Big word,” You mumbled low enough so that he wouldn’t hear.
“You still owe me $150, yeah?”
You didn’t really want to answer him. He already knew this. You eyed him warily.
“You’ll get the rest on Wednesday–”
“Here’s the deal,” Rafe interrupted. “I’m not waiting that long.”
You crossed your arms, shrugging. “Well, I can’t get you any more money until then, and my brother definitely can’t. So…” You trailed off.
“So,” Rafe began. “That’s where my proposition comes in.”
You continued to eye him, hesitantly. You weren’t sure where he was going with this.
Rafe continued, “There’s a party tomorrow night. If you show up and help promote the shit I’m selling, I won’t go after your brother for you not paying me the rest tonight.”
You stayed silent and tried your best to ignore the protest that was forming in your mouth.
This wasn’t fair. But he knew that. He knew it wasn’t fair — that this wasn’t even your debt to pay. Rafe just didn’t care.
“I don’t want to help you sell drugs–” You tried to say.
“You’re being dramatic.” He scoffed. “All you’d need to do is tell people where I am and what I have.”
“I really don’t want to be involved in that.”
“You’re already involved.”
“Rafe–”
“Everything good over here?”
Both you and Rafe turned your heads to see Noah quickly approaching. He had a hardened expression on his face. He made direct eye contact with you. “Is he bothering you?”
“None of your concern, Williams.” Rafe waved him off.
You eyes flickered between Noah and Rafe, concerned about where this was headed. Noah was obviously wasted already. He was always a tad on the aggressive side when drinking. Rafe was…Rafe. This could end very badly very fast.
“Nah, I think it is my concern, man.” Noah began to invade Rafe’s personal space. “Since I heard you’ve been harassing my girlfriend.”
Briefly, you wondered who had filled him in on the situation. You hadn’t told him about what happened the night prior.
“Noah, it’s fine.” You told him. “Let’s just go back to everyone else.” You lightly took hold of Noah’s arm to lead him away.
“Yeah, Noah.” Rafe grinned mockingly. “We’re good.”
You shut your eyes in annoyance. Rafe’s condescending attitude wasn’t helping anything. Without a second thought, Noah ripped his arm out of your grip.
“Oh, we’re good?” Noah stepped up to Rafe again.
“Noah–” You tried to protest.
“Yeah,” Rafe antagonized. He nodded over at you. “Your girlfriend thinks we’re good.” Noah clenched his jaw at the comment.
You rolled your eyes at the comment. “Stop trying to instigate. You’re really bad at it.” He was actually good at it, but you wanted to get under his skin. “Noah, let’s go.”
Noah continued to glare at Rafe, but when you tugged at his arm, Noah began to leave with you.
“Yeah, that’s right!” Rafe called out at the two of you. “Follow her like a bitch!”
Noah ripped away from you faster than you could process.
“Hey–”! You started to protest.
Your yell cut out with a startled gasp when Noah swung at Rafe. You stumbled back, not wanting to be in the area of impact.
A crowd started forming quickly from the commotion. Caroline caught up to you fast.
“What happened?” She rushed out.
An irritated expression formed on your face remembering the events leading up to this. You kissed your teeth. “Testosterone.” You tore your eyes away from the boys to look at your friend. “Where’s Lacey?”
“She went to get her sweatshirt out of Noah’s car.” Caroline told her. They both flinched when Rafe tackled Noah to the ground. Now on top of him, Rafe began punching Noah in the face with an open fist.
You looked around at everyone who was either egging on the fight or filming. Some were doing both.
“Is no one gonna do anything?” You asked, exasperated.
Caroline scoffed. “You mean, is anyone going to get involved in a fight with Rafe Cameron?” She threw back at you.
You grimaced as the fight moved towards the water. You began to take a step forward, but Caroline shot her hand out to stop you. “Terrible idea – truly.”
Noah suddenly broke himself free of Rafe’s hold. “What’s up, Cameron? Your daddy’s passing you over as president so now you’re acting out?” He taunted. “Is that it?”
Your eyes widened at Noah. He was definitely only making the situation worse.
Rafe lunged at Noah again, gripping his shirt in tight hold. He shoved Noah to the ground before slamming his fist in your boyfriend’s face over and over. Your breath hitched in your throat, you felt your nerves seeping into your lungs. This was going from bad to worse.
Lacey ran up to you and Caroline. “What happened?!” She exclaimed. “I left for literally five minutes!”
“What do we do?” Caroline panicked.
You brought both hands up to your face and ran them over the top of your head. You didn’t know what you were going to do. You had pulled Noah out of dumb bar fights before, but none of them were as bad as this one.
You tried your best to focus, but your head was going fuzzy. Noah’s movements became slower, filling you with dread. For a moment, you were legitimately worried that Rafe would kill him.
“Hey, Rafe! You did enough!” You recognized one of Rafe’s friends push forward from the crowd. “Hey – chill out!” His friend got a hold of Rafe. He must’ve been severely out of it. Rafe nearly swung at him.
“Stay out of this, Top!” He shoved his friend back.
Suddenly the sounds of the crowd were broken up by the louder sounds of sirens.
“The cops are here!” You heard someone yell. More people began to yell out the arrival the police.
You used the opportunity to rush over to your boyfriend.
“Noah?” You crouched to your knees so that you could get a better look at him. Noah slowly blinked his eyes, but didn’t address you. His face was nearly unrecognizable. Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Noah!” You raised your voice to get his attention. “Can you hear me?
He still wasn’t answering, no matter how much you pleaded. You cursed under your breath. You took his arm and slung it over your shoulder to try and pull him up, but he was too heavy for you.
“Hey, hey. Let me help.” You looked up to see a guy that you recognized from the private school. He got on the other side of Noah and helped you lift him up.
“Thank you,” You breathed out.
“Don’t mention it.” He grunted out.
“Lacey, do you still have his keys?” You asked as you approached your friends again.
“Yeah, I got ‘em.” Her voice was panicked. “Is he okay?”
“Can you unlock his car and push down the back seats? We’re gonna need to lay him down.”
Lacey shot you and Noah one more worried look before sprinting to where the car was parked.
You weren’t sure how long it took you to get Noah to his car, but you were scared out of your mind the whole time. Caroline opened the door to the backset and you laid him down with the help of the guy from high school.
You closed the door on him and ran to the drivers seat. You were going to have to leave your car here and hope for the best.
“I’m gonna have to take him back to mine.” You didn’t really say to anyone specific. You just felt like you needed to talk or you would start spiraling. “His parents can’t see him like this.”
“We can stay over, too.” Lacey offered.
You didn’t say anything in response, you only started the engine. You looked ahead down the street to see everyone running to their cars or into the nearby trees. You paused on the one person looking your way.
That pair of intimidating eyes you never could escape was holding you ransom.
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Yeah as a trans man I agree with u about us mostly I think?
Like we are genuinely pretty different from cis men for instance in that we’re way way more likely to be victims of dv and sa than perpetrators. I really don’t like people erasing that or acting like sexual harassment and violence is only a misogyny issue and not a fundamental, serious part of transphobia. And obviously we need abortions sometimes, just like cis women.
But on the other hand…we’re different, so what? We’re a tiny fraction of the male population just because something doesn’t apply to us doesn’t mean it doesn’t apply to men in general.
As long as nobody is going out of their way to blame the election results on trans men specifically or erase the ways it will harm us I’m just gonna assume anyone talking about how this is men’s fault isn’t talking about me specifically lol.
trans men, esp those who don’t pass, are victims of almost all of the same stuff that cis women are. that should be pointed out. my problem is only with people who label that as “(trans)misandry.” imo ur welcome to participate in 4B and like…refrain from relationships with cis men or whatever you think you need to do to keep urself safe. i do think that the trans men who shill for the patriarchy are in the minority but by g-d are they a loud and annoying one.
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2/2 Do you believe everything happens for a reason?
#left this one hanging for a second because i couldn’t think of a good joke to put in the body 💀#that depends on what you’re asking#yeah cause and effect is a thing that exists#but this question gets so often used as a shorthand for ‘do you believe everything is dictated by some sort of higher agency’#that i’m just gonna assume this is what that means#and no i don’t believe there’s a point in doing that#i know rationalising things is kinda just what happens when you’re a brain creature that wants to seek patterns and connections but damn#chill.... have you ever considered.... sometimes. shit happens#things have causes and you can deem them as having had an ultimate ‘purpose’ as you will depending on how you view that sequence of events#people attribute meaning to whatever all the time. that’s what the word is for i’m not out here debating what does or doesn’t have it#what i think helps to remember is things in general aren’t always going to resolve in an emotionally satisfying and/or complete way to you#because in my experience the more you can see that in stuff without picking it apart#similarly and equivalently the easier it gets to just allow yourself and others to exist without going bat shit fucking bonkers
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do you actually view nonbinary people as non-binary or as binary people too scared to come out
this is a wild thing to ask someone who’s very openly not binary. like what even prompted you to send this? even if you didn’t know that i’m not binary trans, what have i said that would lead you to think i don’t believe in nonbinary people? is it just the fact that i’m a trans man and talk about being one on here? because sometimes it really feels like that’s all it takes for some of y’all to just assume i hate nonbinary people, as if those are mutually exclusive categories (which is ironically an exorsexist assumption in itself).
anyway, if it needed to be said, of course i view nonbinary people as nonbinary. it would be very silly of me to feel differently given that i’m not a binary trans person myself and that most of the trans people i’m close to in real life are nonbinary. i would strongly encourage you to ask yourself what it is about me that made you feel the need to ask me this in the first place.
#i am. so tired#anon hate#<- idc if it wasn’t meant as that or doesn’t seem that way to other people bc at this point? i’m done treating these as genuine questions#like this is what i mean when i talk about how frustrating it is to be a trans man with a complex gender#bc it really feels like other nonbinary people will just. see that you’re a man and assume not only that you’re not part of the community#but that you must be actively hostile toward it#idk. maybe i’m reading too much into this question but it feels shitty and i’m not gonna pretend it doesn’t
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guys do you have emotional, mental, physical, social, or spiritual autism
#autism#autism posting#audhd reveal lol#what does emotional autism even mean#gonna assume it’s just an outdated term#i’m watching aliens resurrection btw
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can someone explain how to support my sister? she said she’s a therian and i’m totally chill with that (don’t get me wrong) i just want her to feel good about that bcs our brother is already teasing her.
i don’t care if this is a phase of hers or if it only lasts two days just please can someone explain this to me? i’m gonna start frequenting the tags for it and im gonna watch some youtube videos but like still lmao
edit: i’m tagging this and i have no fucking clue what half these words mean?? like i think im doing it right??? ahhhhhhhh just want to make her feel okayyyy
ALSO IF YOURE NOT CHILL WITH MY BLOG, BLOCK DONT REPORT. I NEED A GODDAMN OUTLET SO LEAVE ME BE. THIS IS MY SAFE SPACE.
#wait i’m gonna just tag it with the tags lol#that’s probably productive of me#therian#otherhearted#therianthropy#theriotype#therian community#alterhuman#yall i got no idea what im doing#i don’t know what these words mean but i assume they’re okay??#otherkin#otherkin community#otherkinity#alterbeing#alterhuman community#alterhumanity#arctic fox therian#bird therian#bear therian#canine therian#cat therian#canine theriotype#dog therian#coyote therian#feline therian#fox therian#therian moodboard#therian things#therian gear#wolf therian
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Hi, it's me again. I decided to follow your advice and try to seek out your 'actually serious' analysis, which led me to your komahina bible, the most easy to find compilation of this supposed analysis. Here are my thoughts-
1) Overview
- Most of this 'analysis' isn't analysis but a summary/overview of the game. It's not so much a 'bible' as a children's book summary of the bible, which at that point it would be better to play the actual game itself. It's clear it was made for a presentation on the 'uninitiated' if you will, but if that's the case, you shouldn't be advertising it as the literal bible on the subject.
- When you are not regurgitating points from the game beat by beat, the screen is halfway filled with either manga panels or fanart. My gripes with manga panels are, that even though they do depict the events of the game, the way they can be depicted by the artist can be pretty subjective due to the freedom of the medium in comparison to sprites, and that the role of one character can differ depending on whose pov manga it is (chiaki vs nagito). Fan art therefore should be scrutinized even more since it fully depicts abstracted and even the fandomified version of events, leading to situations where it's either unclear what is actually happening or betrays your more shallow view of the characters (i talk abt this later.)
- When you do use pictures directly from the game it's either a possible screenshot from a memorable moment or dialog from the wiki, limited almost exclusively to the freetime events. This leads me to believe that you haven't actually played the game(there are other factors hinting towards this) or watched a Let's Play of it, but going off of merely information that's already widely known and circulating within the fandom, and easy to search on the wiki.
2) Incorrect/Questionable information
Here I'll compile a lot of information that's either plainly wrong or baffling to having come to that conclusion , leading more credence to the theory that you either haven't actually played the game or your memory of it isnt as good as you think.
-"if Nagito's plan went off of without a hitch, he would have killed anyone that was closes to him at the time" plainly wrong. Komaeda's goal from the start was to make himself the victim, so by dying this way his death could have meaning and help the others. For somebody that keeps talking about Komaeda's "Martyr complex" this is truly a weird take to have.
-"Nagito...got the nurse for sure sick" is there any proof that specifically points to Komaeda for this? I believe the takeaway should've been that Mikan got sick because she was around all of them AND she overworked herself trying to take care of them. Is this just an awkwardly phrased attempt to make more of a connection between Tsumiki and Komaeda? I don't think you needed more than the ones that already existed.
- "he helps Junko brainwash a bunch of students" Kamukura at neither point in the anime or Danganronpa 0 was ever specifically implicated in the brainwashing. He never 'helps' Junko, especially in that way. If you meant, participates in the student council killing game, you should've said that, but even then his agency and influence is limited.
-"they found the Remnants and captured them!"...no, they didn't. The Remnants presented themselves as survivors and the Foundation took them in. They handed themselves over willingly. It was a pretty big piece of the final part of the game...
3) Komaeda and Komahina
- "Nagito's habit of putting people on pedestals" Where. Sure, he certainly parrots the belief that the "Ultimates" as a unit are at the top of the food chain and should be prioritised, but its clear that doesn't exactly carry over to his classmates like teruteru, Kuzuryu and even Souda sometimes. Just because of a few positive comments refering to them as Ultimates and the trial which he literally breaks down in, this is a hard position to support.
-"Nagito manipulates Hajime into playing the game" How. He literally just told him to play it. How is that manipulation. Also, isn't it a bit unfair to put the blame on Koizumi's death to him as well? I think they were multiple factors playing into this, but sure, how else are you gonna convince people that Komaeda is a twisted fucking cyclepath that loves leading people to their deaths.
-The way that you say the Kuzuryu/Pekoyama relationship mirrors Komahina as 'I will give up my agency for you/ I just want you' is also confusing. Unless of course you mirror Peko's struggle with her agency and harmful beliefs the clan enforced on her with Komaeda's own belief system, in which case, idk man, i feel like you are giving a bit too much credit to the supposed severity of Komaeda's views and trying too hard to make Hinata the 'rational' and 'grounding' one in the relationship.
- Again, the amount of times you refer to Komaeda as a freak for doing something 'weird' or even being drawn weirdly doing it , mostly in the manga, makes me belief this isn't just an affectionate tongue in cheek joke as you claim, but an actual way in which your interpretation of Komaeda is colored.
-"it doesn't excuse his nonchalance towards tragedy and murder but explains it" what needs to be excused here exactly? Komaeda doesn't need to immediately bawl his eyes out when someone gets killed or else he's suspicious and...bad? I am confused with what you mean by this. If you mean that Komeada shouldn't be so nonchalant about murder because he's constantly trying to kill someone else, that is plainly incorrect and i explained above why.
-Posturing about Komaeda's 'black and white thinking' while in the next exact slide you show fanart of him smugly explaining he has Borderline. First, i want you to explain to me the black and white thinking in a way that isn't "oh, the friends and classmates i previously liked turned out to be fucking terrorists". I think that's a pretty justifiable situation for your thinking to go from white to black. Also, if that is enough credence to assign Komaeda BPD, you really don't know how BPD works, especially since you assigned it to the one character you constantly talk about being a freak (and also lust...pseudo lust? after).
- The insistence with Hinata not really understanding Komaeda and running away, even if he wants to understands him is pretty suspect, especially when compared to the game. Hinata is confused and overwhelmed yes, but it's not just that he wants to understand Komaeda but that he still feels fondness for him, he still follows his advice and puts his faith in him and the way he mourns him in Chapter 5 is also pretty indicative of this. It's just another part in the pattern in you making Hinata the confused, rational, 'morally pure' man that's 'tempted' by 'corrupted' manic pixie mentally ill demon Komaeda. Something tells me your priest AU isn't so much playing with dolls as much as...what you actually believe these characters dynamic is.
- The whole page where Servant is basically made into a joke about how hot and sexy and freaky he is doesn't help your point either.
-The most damning evidence of course is a drawing in the second to last slide, wherein Komaeda is supposed to be analogous to 'guy who has something wrong with him' (distorted, freak, mentally ill) and Hinata is analogous to the guy that 'is the only one that understands them' (the rational one, the relationship of understanding doesn't go both ways).
- Your slide with sources is pretty vague and unclear. Also the way that you credit "Your superior mind" before the game itself when all you've been doing is repeating and misinterpreting the plot of the game is ...ironic
So yeah, that's all I got. Feel free to 'debunk' my observations as much as you please, I just want to know if there's actual basis behind everything you just said or I should go digging for 'the actual serious analysis' yet again.
i think you forgot that fandom is meant to be fun
#ask#anon#tw anon hate#i’m not gonna go through each individual point here bc frankly that’d be a waste of my time#so i’m just going to say this:#i am someone who makes jokes. funny haha jokes. i Laugh. i Shitpost. Common Fandom Behavior#‘freak’ is a word i use to refer to myself more often than anyone else#i view it with a positive connotation. and also kmda is objectively weird!! that is part of what makes his character good#i use 2 definitions of ‘freak’: the first is Related To Sex and the second is Strange Or Bizarre#komaeda is a strange and bizarre person who is regularly used for fanservice#you could for sure say maybe i have some sort of bias with calling people ‘freaks’ but for you to assume ill intent is nasty#that presentation was made to give my irl friends an understanding of what i mean when i talk abt kmhn#‘kmhn bible’ is a JOKE title. it’s a BIT. i don’t know if you’ve noticed but i try to have fun around here#anywho. i’m not going to argue semantics with someone who is clearly convinced that i couldn’t possibly know what i’m talking about#that’s not worth my time or energy.#i’m going to continue to have fun on the internet with my friends. i am going to continue making my funny jokes#i am going to continue to make weird bad not-quite-horny art. and i’m going to be happy#you can either block me like an adult and move on with your life. or you can send me another anon#if you do send me that ask know that i will block you. this is a conversation i am done having#because i will not have these conversations with people who refuse fo respect me#it’s clear that you have it in your head that you’re smarter than me. which sure whatever believe what you want idgaf#but regardless of how you view me i am not obligated to prove myself to you. ever#thanks for downloading my funny little powerpoint though ^_^
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I have a hard time hating Donovan because as much of an asshole he is to his son, that man has done nothing wrong in my eyes. I know the goal is to keep him as a mystery and a sort of looming threat but I’m not really threatened by the unknown.
He’s a dick to Damian but it’s never made clear why. The best assumption would be that he’s rich and therefore neglectful but that doesn’t seem to be the case with all the other kids at Eden. He just comes off as paranoid for again no particular reason. The most we know is that he thinks that everyone is inherently a bunch of liars which is a nice contrast to the main cast of characters and based on that odd conversation with Twilight we know that he extends this belief even to his own family. Unfortunately, I have a hard time hating him even for that because I’m the end Damian is like 6 and it just seems to logically insane to view a child as a potential opp that I can’t take it seriously. Also he never extended that kind of suspicion to Demetrius so I dunno maybe Damian is the problem.
As for his politics, they are effectively nonexistent. Only information that we know is that he maybe possibly would be interested in starting the war again but at the same time that’s not how war works. My best understanding is that he is trying to be re-elected to start the war again but if that’s the case then why would anyone vote for him? No context is given as to why he lost the last re-election (and that’s me assuming he lost and it’s not a case of term limits) or what the general public thinks of him. There was that one scene where Millie blamed him for the death of her father so maybe the gp isn’t too fond of him but it’s also never said why. As much as I am anti war I do know war is a nuanced issue so I can’t really say if I’m against Donovan without know why he is interested in the war. He didn’t even start the war also what even is the war. It’s constantly referenced but I don’t even know what they’re talking about. The timeline is so vague and confusing.
I’m nitpicking again but it’s really confusing. I get the upset about losing family to the war but wars are far too political and complicated for me to just side with anyone. Like I feel bad for veterans in general but also a lot of them are cold blooded murderers and rapists who proudly dedicated their lives to furthering white supremacy and engaging in neocolonialism so I can only feel so bad before I just say womp womp and move on. Brainwashing does seem to be an issue in Ostania but again like meh. They specifically said Ostania isn’t a socialist state which was the core of the conflict between East and West Germany and it’s the socialist/communist beliefs that caused the most harm in East German but if that not the case here then what is actually going on.
If you have any information that can help please share I am confused 🤔
Anyways here’s a tiny Yor
#spy x family#sxf#donovan desmond#the things that concern me are irrelevant to a normal person#WWII ended 1945 and the story is set in 1960 to 1979 which means the earliest distance between the end of the war and the start of the stor#is 15 years. Yor is canonically 27 which means she was 12 in 1945 ie the end of the war but she lived through the way so that’s wrong#obviously Donnie and melly have no official age but if we go based on us politics Donovan would have had to been a minimum of 35#to become pm. one person’s calculations estimated his age at 56 which means he would have been 42 at the end of the war but WWII was 7 year#but how would the pm change mid war did everyone just ignore the bombs to go exercise their democratic rights#and again that’s assuming it’s a democratic system because they did he lost recently but idk#also that would mean he was pm for well over a decade maybe even 2 so again what the hell happened there#now I have to go re-read the entire thing because I am genuinely confused rn#also spies are notorious for causing problems and instability in other countries so twilight is the real opp here#also personally if I wanted to stalk someone to find out if they’re gonna start a war again I’m going for the blackbells#Donnie already got the boot but papa Blackbell is still operating as normal definitely more likely to encourage war than a former pm#also Melinda is so cute hehe
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