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rodolfoparras · 9 months ago

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Thinking about soft sex with Price where he’s got you on to the bed, your wrists pinned behind your head and his thighs bracketing your waist. Usually this means you’re in for a rather long night but this time he’s looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and with a soft smile while murmuring the words “let me take care of you tonight yeah?”

Usually you’re the one to take him apart with your fingers or with your mouth but tonight isn’t like any other night. Tonight you arrived at the door, shoulders slumped as if carrying the weight of the world on them while looking for some sort of comfort.

And of course he’s here to offer that, has a wedding band on his hand to remind him of that but even with a bare hand he’d tear himself into pieces just to patch you up.

And it’s with a kiss to your lips that he offers you the first piece and he kisses you oh so softly, and oh so slowly, following the pulse of his heart.

His lips taste of the sweet mint tea he usually drinks before he goes to sleep, the one you’d initiated into his routine- just another way to show just how tightly intertwined the two of you are. With ever kiss you can feel his coarse mustache hair tickling your cheek and chin and you eagerly welcome the prickling feeling. His body feels warm and solid as he keeps you pinned to the bed. If this had been anyone else you’d be trying to escape- mind and reflexes rewired from your army days but this wasn’t just anyone this was your husband and therefor you feel at home, you feel grounded to the world.

He releases his grip on your wrists, one hand intertwines with yours, while the other hand drags along the side of your ribs, tracing every scar every mark, etching every curve and slope into the back of his mind, so that if he ever gets lost he can find his way back around.

It’s times like these that remind you just how experienced your husband is. Price has lived so many lives before he’s met you- the crow feet around his eyes and gray strands are proof of that, he’s had so many lovers before while you’ve only ever had one. He’s got so much experience so much knowledge and for whatever reason he’s decided to bestow it upon you, with his fingers with his mouth, and what a lucky man you are because of that.

You don’t even know when he’s stripped the clothes off of your body but all of a sudden he’s got your cock in the palm of his hand, easily setting a slow pace, and using the bit of pre collecting at the tip along with spit to aid his movements, all while closely watching you under him.

It’s almost like he thinks you’ll fall apart under his touch and for a second you want to make a joke- how you won’t break if he goes any rougher but you don’t want to do that because in this moment you feel like you could crumble under him but along with that you feel safe you feel at ease, like he’d glue all your pieces back together while holding you close to him.

It’s embarrassing how fast you cum under his touch, but he doesn’t seem to mind , matter of fact he seems endeared as ever, eyes shining brightly and smiling down at you sweetly.

#this was so therapeutic to write #call of duty #john price x reader #john price x male reader #john price #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #x male reader #male reader #sub male reader #dom male character

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delusionsofgrandeur13 · 3 months ago

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CASUAL

…your friends call you a loser.

chapter one

NSFW. MINORS DNI.

tim drake x reader

series inspired by Casual by Chappell Roan

readers can expect: fem reader x tim drake. not explicit consent but both parties are willing participants. mention of panty stealing. penetrative sex, prone bone/doggy style. reader on birth control, tim finishes inside. hair pulling. mean-spirited dirty talk. marking kink if you squint. use of 'sweetheart.' no mention of reader finishing. tim is kind of an asshole. don't say i didn't warn you.

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you laugh at his joke, probably louder than you should’ve.

you feel lydia’s eyes on you as you raise the red cup you’re holding up to your lips.

you curse yourself silently. what were you even doing at yet another one of these dumb parties??

sure, it wasn’t being thrown by the snobbiest frat on campus, but it is at one of their family homes. you didn’t even know neighborhoods like this existed in gotham. the houses were ridiculously huge.

lydia was dating her guy now, making her a semi permanent fixture. she had him now, and didn’t really need you for emotional support.

so again, what the hell are you doing here?

the fabric of your dress is tight against your chest, and you squirm. you think your left nipple is starting to chafe. lydia looks at you expectantly.

“what?” you blink at her over the rim of your red cup, blink out of your train of thought.

“i asked if you’ve been seeing anyone lately.” your friend settles back into her boyfriend, leaning on him with his arm slung over her shoulders. her boyfriend, josh, is a calm drunk, bobbing his head to the beat of the music and staring off into the distance.

“it feels like this is the only place i’ll see him.” you mumble under your breath, waving a hand at lydia’s confused expression. “no, i’m not really seeing anyone right now.”

“well look around! you’re surrounded by future sugar daddies. take your pick.” she gestures, pointing at one guy across the room, raising her eyebrow. “him?”

you shake your head, curling a lip. “definitely not.”

“bummer.” lydia sighs.

“besides, don’t sugar daddies look for younger women? the guys here are all my age, so it’s pointle-” a hand slides around your hip, and your voice trails off. lydia’s eyes widen when she realizes who’s attached to the hand, the one curving around your lower waist to the front of your body.

an almost entirely inappropriate hand placement.

your heart thumps hard in your chest. maybe you’d question who it was if you couldn’t smell the soap his dry cleaner uses.

you can feel the warmth of his hip pressed into yours as he sidles up next to you. josh practically snaps to attention when he sees that his frat president has his hand around your waist.

“tim!” josh reaches his hand out to greet him. “didn’t even know you were here!”

tim takes his hand, the one not radiating heat into your hipbone, and shakes josh’s.

“that’s how i like it.” he punctuates his sentence with a squeeze of your waist, and it takes every ounce of composure you have to not react.

lydia’s gaze keeps dragging between tim’s hand placement, your face, and tim, just over, and over, and over again. you chew on the inside of your lip.

you know how it looks.

“so you’re ‘not seeing anybody?’ well i can see the frat president with his hands on you!!”

tim and josh finish a conversation about some frat-related event coming up, one that you were not paying attention to. while they were talking it felt like every nerve in your body had rewired itself to where his hand was sitting on your hip.

josh steers lydia away, over to the kitchen, full of stainless steel appliances and an island covered in bottles.

you can feel her keep glancing back at you, but you can’t meet her eyes.

you can’t.

you catch a snippet of the sentence she whispers into her boyfriend’s ear. “..such a loser.”

your palms start sweating. she throws you another look before josh pulls her back around, kissing her forehead.

tim nudges you towards him, and you look at him. except you’re about eye level with his chest. his shirt is a deep blue, almost black. it’s starting to become your favorite color. his dark jeans sit low, covering the top of his shoes.

he chuckles under his breath, and sticks a finger under your chin, pulling your face up so you can look at his. he looks down at you through half-lids, his blue eyes sharp and gleaming. your heart pounds in your ears, in between your legs.

he doesn’t ask you anything, doesn’t need to, but you’re nodding anyways. he smiles that cheshire cat smile at you, and a chill runs up your spine.

he grabs your hand and pulls you along with him, over to the grand staircase.

eric, drunk as ever, nods approvingly at tim. he pats tim’s shoulder as the two of you walk past. the guy next to eric whoops, laughing. his eyes run up and down your body. you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. instead, you plaster a smile on and wink, hurrying after tim.

the two of you make it up the wood paneled staircase, the walls of the hallway covered in pristine family photos. you shudder at the pictured family’s matching stares and smiles. tim squeezes your hand, coming up to a set of double doors. he flashes you a smile, and your heart melts a little.

tim lets go of your hand to open the double doors, revealing a huge room, and a four poster bed, draped with fabric, centered in the middle.

his eyes are full of that hard glint, a look you’ve become all too familiar with. he shuts the doors behind you, locking them.

walking over to the bed, he sits on the edge of it, looking you over with his head tilted to the side.

“wait, drake, is this the master bedroom?” you ask, turning around to see the whole room. there’s even an en suite bathroom.

rich, rich, rich.

“yeah.” tim reclines farther back onto the bed, leaning on his elbows.

you say nothing, awkwardly shuffling your feet.

“..and?” tim prompts you. he raises a hand to bat at the fabric overhead, catlike as ever.

“isn’t that like, a little disrespectful?” you run a hand through your hair, nervous.

tim raises an eyebrow at you, and flops back onto the bed. his arms are behind his head, making his biceps bulge. a strand of hair falls into his eyes. your heart ba-bumps in your chest. his angular eyebrows scrunch together. he looks actually, genuinely confused.

“to who?” he scoffs. “they should be so lucky.”

at that, you bite your tongue. (with great difficulty.)

you choose to look him up and down instead, noting his smug smile. the hardness of his eyes. it feels like you're under a spotlight, the front row full of critics. heat creeps up your neck.

"is it hot in here?" you lift your hair into a makeshift ponytail, noting the way tim sits up. his eyes tracking your movements, the way your fist curls around your hair, lifting the sweaty strands off of your neck.

"so take your clothes off. might cool you down a bit." he smirks, the hardness back in his eyes.

"real original, drake." you shoot back.

he shrugs, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"you'd heat right back up, though. so i can't say it's the best long term solution."

he unlaces a shoe, kicking it off, its twin following in quick succession. he looks at you pointedly, an eyebrow raised. you realize you’re as still as a statue, and staring, so you also begin to undress, toeing off your shoes and leaving them up against the end of the bed. it’s almost comical, your shoes, neat and upright, next to his, haphazardly thrown about, one on its side and the other just fully upside down.

his shirt is next, tim easily pulling it up over his head and tossing it to one side of the room. his abs ripple as he leans back, the stretch revealing a sharp v-line poking out of his boxers.

preening under your gaze, he leers right back, his lips curled up as he flexes his biceps.

“like what you see?” he huffs out a laugh at your sheepish expression.

you shake your head, silent as you turn away from him. his fingers quickly find the zipper of your dress, and soon that hits the floor too.

the expensive denim of his jeans scrapes your inner thigh as he ruts against you. a line of hickeys trace the curve of your neck. his mouth on you felt like heaven, warm and wet as he made his way from your jawline to your collarbone.

proof of his open-mouthed kisses, dark red and glaringly obvious.

a problem for future you. morning you. rational you, who will not enjoy the struggle of covering them up.

tim snaps the band of your underwear.

you’re brought back into the moment, lifting your hips off of the bed as he slides them down your legs. he tucks them into his jean pocket, giving you a look that almost dares you to protest. you don’t. they join the growing list of your things tim’s taken. a hair tie, a necklace, two other pairs of underwear.

his lips are on you again, rough and passionate. you moan into his mouth from the feeling of his denim-clad bulge hitting your bare clit. tim wears a smug smile on his lips as he kisses you next, and you hook your legs around his hips in retaliation. your hands run up and down the smooth expanse of his back, the light scratch of your nails making him shiver.

“control, right?” tim says, his eyes hungry as you unbutton his jeans.

“..what?” you shake your head, confused.

“you’re on birth control, right?”

you internally roll your eyes. it makes sense that he’d be so thorough, being an heir, and famous, or whatever, but he asks you every single time. like your answer was gonna change any time soon.

“yes, timothy.” you draw out your words, feeling petulant.

he raises an eyebrow at this, tugging on a strand of your hair.

“uh-huh.”

his hips snap into the soft flesh of your ass again, sending a spark of pleasure up your spine. you’re facedown on the bed, tim holding himself up over you, your hips raised up just enough for him to thrust into you. one of his hands curls into your hair, yanking at it.

“tim, i-”

his pace picks up, unrelenting.

“what was that, sweetheart? have something to say?”

you moan in reply as he holds the rhythm he’s established, his fingers gripping at your hair, pulling.

“you usually have so much to say, y/n.” you can hear the smirk in his voice.

his taunting dies down as he gets closer, one hand gripping your ass so hard it’ll probably leave bruises. the other uses your hair to pull you closer to him, giving you a messy kiss. he sucks in a breath just to let it back out through gritted teeth, groaning deep in his throat. he puts you against the bed again, the hand that was in your hair now pressing down on your lower back. his last few thrusts are sloppy, quick, and you’re clenching around his cock at the speed, your hands clutching at the sheets.

“mm, fuck, that feels so good,” tim finishes with a low moan, warmth filling your insides in someone else’s four poster bed.

the praise makes something in your chest start fluttering around, and you turn over to look at him once he’s pulled out. he's sat up, on his knees. his thigh muscles are on display, sending more flurries of desire through your body. the veins in his hands are in hard relief as he fists his cock, milking out every last drop. his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, a few raven locks sticking to his forehead.

he's dressed before you know it, tossing your dress up on the bed for you absentmindedly. tim looks over at you, and he's back over you in a flash. he gives you one last quick kiss, pinching your nipple.

"i'll text you."

with that, he's gone. it'd be like he was never here if there weren't hickeys covering your neck and his cum wasn't between your legs.

you dress quickly, tottering over to the bathroom. you look in the mirror, assessing. you use your hands to tame your hair back down. your eye makeup is smudged. and you don't have your underwear. you better get home quick if you don't want his cum dripping down your legs at this frat party.

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tim drake wayne's fan club:

(and THE most patient people on earth. i love you. thanks for waiting.)

(taglist:)

@dfgcbgdc @benditlikegumby93 @agent-nobody-knows @jaybunsblog @astermos-74 @ravenna-reid @borutoistrash1-blog @slut4animedilfs @nuggget-consumer-9000 @turtleturtleturtleturtleneck @hellishattempt @trashhighwaybird @sergeant-angels-trashcan @lilithskywalker @timdrakeisasugardaddy

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imalwaysaslutforthevoid · 1 year ago

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The Summer Hikaru Died and onomatopoeia

I've wanted to gush about this topic for a while and i have no organized thoughts but a lot of feelings i need to get out. First and foremost being "Holy shit this manga is so damn loud" which is a weird feeling to have since manga is generally understood to be a silent medium.

And yet the Mangaka MokuMoku Ren has filled their work to the brim with sound. Now comics using onomatopoeia (words that echo a noise ie: crunch) is nothing new the sound of a fist hitting it's target and walls being wrecked is nothing new. But usually onomatopoeia is worked into whatever action is resulting in the noise

adding both a sense of motion as well as sound. Which is what makes The Summer Hikaru Died's use of it so unique and compelling. To utilize onomatopoiea you have to give up on space that could otherwise be going to deatil work in the background or foreground. Now this is fine with smaller unobtrusive effects like Wolverine's claw extending, and there's numerous example's where a sound will take up large portions of the page to show how loud something like a bomb going off is. But i've yet to see another comic western or otherwise so consistently use this facet of the medium to instill such claustrophobia and dread. As a slower paced horror manga The Summer Hikaru Died builds it's suspense mostly through atomosphere, the supernatural happenings weighing on the surrounding evironment until they break the surface

The use of sound is heavy, it's harsh, it's a vehicle to show how wrong things have gotten from the whisper of "it's coming" heard in the ringing bell of a train crossing to the omnipresent call of birds, bugs, and frogs that pushes in on the paneling shrinking the world with their cacophony.

the way sound shrinks the world making reader and character both feel suffocated by the drone is matched by how the manga uses silence as a way to make the characters feel exposed and vulnerable. the page is now empty of distraction the world of the story on full display and it still feels wrong it's agorophobic, at least amidst the din there was some sense of anonymity being just one voice among hundrends.

even the speech bubble feels out of place as it wanders off desperate to fill the space. The manga is full of these moments of sound and silence in some dance with eachother always too much or too little, never comfortable. It adds a lot to the horror of the manga, and is just one part of many that makes The Summer Hikaru Died such an excellent manga, every chapter I can feel my skin crawl as the setting becomes more hostile to the charactres while they uncover more of the truth of their circumstances.

#i didn't know how to end this so i just stopped writing #the summer hikaru died #hikaru ga shinda natsu #i wrote this at 2:30am so sorry if it's almost completely incoherent #manga #horror #i thouroughly reccomend writing something in a way that would make your english teacher want to scalp you very therapeutic

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ghost-bxrd · 1 year ago

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—————-

“If you got this far and I didn’t pick up I’m probably dead or don’t wanna talk to you. You can leave a message but I probably won’t call back. If you’re Dick: Fuck you, Big Bird. Jason out.”

Tim breathes a quiet laugh, hand shaking where it’s gripping the rusty fire escape too hard.

Tonight’s the end. He can’t back out. Batman will be here any moment now.

“Hey Jason,” he starts, stops, bites his lip nervously when a stray cat topples an empty can of tuna, “I just— Wow ok, this is weird. But I want you to know that I’ll fix this.”

Unless he gets killed first. That’s always a valid concern when you’re jumping into fights with a black sweater and a ski mask covering the lower half of your face. But Batman had steadfastly ignored his petition to become Robin, so Tim’s hands are a bit tied here. You can’t just order kevlar and armor online.

Which sucks, by the way.

“I don’t know how yet,” he admits, thinking back on the increasing number of petty thugs ending up permanently disabled during the past three months. And the increasing number of times Batman kept going despite receiving serious injuries himself. “But I promise I’ll do it. For Gotham. For you.”

A commotion at the mouth of the alley makes Tim’s head fly up and he squints through the gloom as a group of rowdy looking figures saunters inside.

He ducks down quickly, breathing through his nose. His stomach feels like it’s having a fantastic tea time with a swarm of buzzing bees.

Ok. Any second now.

“I- I’ll keep you updated,” he whispers, finger already hovering over the end-call button in preparation before he hesitates.

“Thank you for being my Robin,” he adds, grimacing at the way his voice wobbles, “I wish you were still here.”

He almost smashes the phone in his haste to shut it off, shoving the mortification he feels deep, deep down. But it’s not like anybody is ever going to hear this, anyway. And it does feel good to finally have gotten this off his chest.

A shadow drops down from above to alarmed shouts and strangled cries that quickly morph into pained groans, and Tim has a split second to fight the instinctive “flight” response he’d honed over years of taking pictures of Batman and Robin before he grits his teeth and vaults over the railing of the fire escape, dropping to the ground right behind Batman with a chipper, “Hey, need a hand?”

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thekittyokat · 6 months ago

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you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

#sorry i got really into my feelings about mark hoffman again #the very specific version of him in my brain that i really really wish i had the time and energy to properly share with you guys #saw #well until i muster the energy to explode all of my feelings out into a fic. if you want to TRY and understand #know that my three biggest hoffman fic insps right now are as follows #your best kept secret hoffman. a series of mistakes hoffman. and rushed like a dreadful wind hoffman.#there is a very clear throughline just know i am extremely emotionally compromised rn #thinking about theee fics vs the canon path hoffman spirals down #something something the absolute tragedy of watching a man's descent into madness #the transformation of a man into a monster #and what could have saved him from himself and kramer's corruption #sorry i'm rambling so much oh my god i was just having such a crying fit out of nowhere about this #do you think he could feel it happening. do you think he was aware he was losing his mind.#the script version of him fucks with me so bad. the crazed rankings and the longer hair and him not being well kept anymore #it's impossible to think he didn't know he was deteriorating #fuuuck okay i need to either chill or write a whole longfic rn #i project on that guy so much i truly don't know if i could properly write my vision of him #until i do something more substantial the full extent of my hoffman exists for me and my boyfriend only. they get me like no one else #well ginny and jenna also get me. please read best kept secret and a series of mistakes Oh My God #where am i going with this. i like tag rambling actually this is a nice way to do it without forcing EVERYONE to read my delirium #anyways if you've read all of this i think i love you? feel free to dm me about hoffman and my very specific headcanons and aus #maybe soon i'll try and start writing my fics about this tragic man #i could never say any of this on twitter btw they'd string me up for my opinions on him as a sad wet beast who could have been fixed #if only he hadn't been weaponized first #god i'm too tired to even be as embarrassed about this as i should be. thought i unlearned cringe already #but i've been spending way too much time on twitter and they HAAATE hoffman there #rip. i know it's not that serious but i'm sensitive rn and hate feeling lonely in my thoughts #ok bye for real otherwise i'll never shut up. i might tag ramble more often bc this was therapeutic in a way i needed badly #cat chat

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choccy-milky · 7 months ago

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oh boy anon, you’ve activated my trap card. GET READY FOR A SEBASTIAN CHARACTER ANALYSIS ESSAY BELOW LMAO

ok so first off I know im obvs biased, but I don’t actually think my seb is that ooc, AND PUT DOWN YOUR PITCHFORKS IMMA EXPLAIN WHY. but im also gonna explain why I don’t think the other more friendly and lighthearted renditions of seb are ooc either. bc theres so many aspects of seb we get in the game that can be interpreted in so many diff ways, and so this is how i see it/landed on MY rendition of seb:

PROTECTIVENESS/POSSESSIVENESS: this is one of the main aspects of him, imo. his entire questline is about wanting to cure anne, and how he’s not giving up, and how he believes that HE is the only one that can do it, because “she’s MY sister!” seb is super tunnel visioned and has a one-track mind when it comes to this, and I headcanon that he’s this way because of their parents deaths. he’s the brother, the boy, he’s gotta be strong for his sister, and ofc when their parents died, he tries to comfort her and be there for her/be the rock, and it happens again when she’s sick. shes his sister, his responsibility, and he’ll die before he gives up on her and her safety.

SO, I just transfer all those aspects over to a romantic relationship instead. you just replace “shes my sister” with simply, “she’s mine/my gf/my wife/etc.” and in the same way I think seb tries to be strong and reliable and protect anne because he’s the brother, I think seb would be the same way in a relationship, because he’s a boy and she’s a girl and its 1890 and he’s chivalrous and he just sees it as his responsibility. I think the death of his parents and his dynamic with anne has baked this sort of mindset into him, and its even MORE intense in a romantic aspect, because then hormones and puberty and sexual tension and attraction is involved (plus the fact that seb in my fic is 17, so he’s older and has even stronger raging hormones and testosterone LOL.

JEALOUSY: who can forget the lines “between the two of you, I’m starting to feel left out” and “ominis simply needs a moment with you and he’ll change his mind. is that it?” the first one is more playful but I feel like the second one really showcases sebs brand of jealousy, and how biting and uncharitable it can be.

AGGRESSION/VIOLENCE: yet another iconic line with: “fine. but ominis knows, I won’t step back from a fight.” LIKE... the fact that apparently ominis knows this means its come up more than once…and im not saying seb is some unruly aggressor who flies off the handle at anything, but he defs has a capacity and is willing to get violent if HE believes the situation calls for it—basically the same way he feels about the dark arts. he felt justified using imperio to protect anne, and taking the relic to save anne, and so he would have fought ominis to get out of the catacomb. and with MY seb, while he doesn’t go picking fights with any boy who looks or gets close to clora, he’ll definitely be willing to beat up or lay hands on a creep who bothers clora/who is in the process of bothering her LOL.

SO YEAH, that’s pretty much it, and I’ll be the first to admit I definitely ramp up these traits further because he’s older in my fic and i think these traits would only get more intensified with age + being in love and also bc IM A TWILIGHT GIRLIE!!! what can I say. there are so many moments in my fic where you can just replace seb with edward and it wouldn’t seem out of place tbh LMAOO so blame twilight, it was a formative experience for me BAHAHA

BUT like I ALSO said, I don’t think peoples more lighthearted interpretations of seb are ooc either. because even all my earlier above examples, you can just focus on diff aspects of them. like his tunnel vision and obsession to cure anne? instead of seeing it as over the top protective and possessive, you can just view it in a more wholesome determined selfless sort of way. like I said we got so many nice little bits and ingredients of his personality that we can turn into anything we want, really👌just pick which flavour of seb u like best and use what we got in game to create it HAHA

AW TYY QUEEN BAHAHA💖 and aw im always so honoured when ppl tell me they consider my stuff canon that’s like the best compliment I can get, tysm 😭 and im glad you like my fic and art so much (enough for your friends and family to unfortunately know💀 LMAOO)

im adding your ask to this because it kinda ties into my seb essay. LETS GET INTO WHY A SWEET BABY ANGEL WOULD LIKE SOMEONE LIKE SEB. the answer ISSS: the same reason WE’RE also all into him I guess?? BAHHA

ok but to start off im gonna defend my seb, not only cause of what you said anon (i dont want you to feel like this is targeted to you!) but also bc I got an ask recently asking me to summarize seb and clora’s relationship since all they see from my art is that “they fuck and seb is possessive” LMAO, and I feel like ppl who JUST see my art and don’t read my fic have a warped image of my seb.

this may be shocking but I don’t consider my seb a red flag LMAO. I joke about how hes more of a pink flag tbh, but even THAT i dont even really believe, and don’t even consider him overly possessive. like yes he keeps an eye on her when shes hanging around other boys, but I feel like that’s normal (esp for 1890) and all of his most possessive moments have been when theres been a threat to cloras life/coming from a place of love and protection (especially since clora is so self-sacrificial, she’d have killed herself by now if not for seb LOL) so to me id actually put Sebastian as being PROTECTIVE as his first and foremost trait, followed by the possessiveness.

and yeah he gets jealous, but unless a dude is actively trying to get with her/hitting on her/harassing her, he’ll otherwise just kinda be unhappy about it/let it play out/ watch on unhappily LOL. and even when lawley was blackmailing clora and getting in between her and sebs relationship and lying about how close he and clora were, seb demanded answers from CLORA on what was happening between the two of them, but he didn’t touch lawley or tell him to stay away. bc seb thought that was what clora wanted, so he let her drift away. if he was TRULY a red flag, in this instance he would have just beat up lawley for taking what was "his"/not allow clora to leave him/immediately go to lawley instead of clora, and tell him to stay away despite what clora might want. (and clora even WISHED seb had interfered and done this. she was like 'why is he letting me drift away and go off with lawley i WANT him to fight for me...but she couldn't actually say anything thanks to the blackmail)

clora doesn’t just 'put up' with sebs more possessive and protective behaviour though, she actually likes it HAHA. just bc shes a precious baby angel, we all like a bad boy, even back then. just look at jane eyre, and how popular the dark and brooding and assholey mr. rochester was.

she tells seb at one point that she likes those things about him, even his immature competitive side, and his darker sides, and that he shouldn’t try to hide them or change himself because she accepts them. and even putting aside all of the stuff they’ve been through together that has bonded them (like the main canon quests + annes curse and then CLORA being cursed, and then clora being kidnapped and seb saving her) clora thought seb was roguish and charming and witty and intelligent and good looking from day 1. add to the fact that he’s just so devoted to her in everything he does, that even if he CAN get a bit overbearing at times, how could you NOT fall for someone like that😩 someone whose possessive behavior just stems from wanting to protect you and love you and want to keep you safe and cherish you like DAMN…. GET ME A SEB, TOO. WHERES MINE!!!😭😭

clora also realizes in ch 32 WHY seb is so protective of her (the trauma with his parents and wanting to be there for anne) and that she accepts it, and enjoys it, and that she might even MISS it if seb were to ever get less protective of her/might get lonely LOL, and then sebs like "i’ve "spoiled you, have i?"

so YEAH I don’t think sebs protectiveness and possessiveness goes into any toxic territory or red flag territory PERSONALLY (and the time that it DID get toxic was because of the relic, and clora DID put her foot down)

but my normal seb? whose dream in life is to whisk clora away into a tower and lock her up to keep her safe and keep her all to himself, but that he’d never ACTUALLY do because he knows its insane and unreasonable but jokes about wanting to do it anyway bc he would if clora agreed? clora finds that endearing and cute and is touched by how much he loves her and wants to keep her safe.

IN CLOSING: I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOUR AND THEY LOVE EACH OTHER👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

#LONG ASS SEB ESSAY #this was so therapeutic to write i hope that people who dont read my fic now understand my seb a bit better #like i said i feel like he gets a bad wrap/people think hes super ooc from his canon just based on my art alone #sebastian sallow #i wanted to write this ever since that one ask where they were like what do they do other than bang and be jealous HAHAHA #ANON MY FIC IS 500K WORDS THEY DO A BUNCH OF OTHER STUFF TRUST ME #and even when seb is super possessive and protective im still usually on his side LMAOO #like just based on my art you defs might think seb is unreasonable but #for the ppl who actually read my fic they know clora is on like a self sacrifice speedrun LOOL #forget team edward and team jacob its team seb and team clora #and im usually a girl's girl but sorry clora im usually with seb and his logic when it comes to keeping u safe LMAOO #sebastian sallow x oc #ask

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solomon-revisited · 4 months ago

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my copy has finally arrived... sixteen old songs from my earnest friends

THE CORONER'S GAMBIT LINER NOTES

TRANSCRIPT:

HE was a guy from California who'd fallen in love with a woman from Iowa. She was working at a water testing lab. They lived in a very small house whose pipes froze every winter. The landlord would come by and put space heaters under the sink. Years later, they retained the memory of the water coming back on - the sudden sound of the shower, the rush from the sink. They slept on a foam mattress in the bedroom in the summer, and on the couch in the living room in the winter, since the house did not have central heating, rendering the bedroom essentially uninhabitable from December through March.

They were not really the kind of people to plan things: they had fun when and where they could on an austere budget. The ice skates they bought used from Play It Again Sports made for fun Christmas mornings on West Indian Creek in Nevada, one town over from where they lived. He learned to cook, and to bake: they didn't go out to eat, because there really wasn't any place to go out and eat, though on occasion they would get a pizza from Casey's, because their town had a Casey's. Under the right circumstances a gas station pizza can be just the thing, and they sometimes found themselves in those circumstances.

He made music which was slowly reaching a wider audience. If he played in New York or Chicago as many as a hundred people might show up. He was idly entertaining the idea of becoming ambitious about it: as a child, he'd been pretty pretentious, and although he was working hard to shake most of that off, a little pretension isn't a bad thing in an artist. Just as a seasoning, as a little extra flavor here or there.

One summer he took a job as a harvest help at the Farmers Cooperative Exchange down the street from the very small house where the pipes froze in winter: getting the corn and soybeans into the grain elevator and into a big Morton building where the beans formed giant mountains, which he sometimes had to climb to knock down the peaks. If you don't knock down the peaks the beans get too hot and might rot. The job didn't pay much, and he wasn't good at it, but during slow stretches he would write song lyrics on scraps of paper or in a small notebook, and when he got home from work and washed off the crop dust, he'd set the lyrics to music. "Elijah" was written like this. So was "The Alphonse Mambo."

He took a Greyhound bus to Omaha to record some of the songs, so that the album would have a nice varied feel to it, but he got very sick, which is not an uncommon thing to have happen after a Greyhound ride, and only a few songs came out the way he wanted. He kept those, and then they got married and moved to Ames because the City of Colo had purchased their home from that landlord and intended to knock it down, which they did do, he affirmed years later: and in Ames he put the album together, and then later they moved to North Carolina and a whole lot of other things happened, too, but the main thing is that this album is a document of a time when two young people in love hadn't yet located the spot on the current that would carry them to their destination, twenty-five years later, parents of two beautiful children, worlds away from Colo, the place where, for better or worse, as the saying goes, all this really began.

Dedicated to my wife, Lalitree, and to the City of Colo, Iowa.

This is the original text of the paper bag that housed the first edition of this album. I am leaving it intact rather than revising it. Stage Bidet's moment comes ever closer: let the people tremble in fear.

Elijah, Baboon, Horseradish Road, Onions, and the Alphonse Mambo recorded in Omaha with Simon Joyner, Chris Deden, Lonnie Methe, Brad Smith, John Kotchen, Steve Micek, and Pat Oakes. All of them are owed money and are to be treated with deference and respect. Five of the remaining songs were recorded at Main St. in Colo, which is a small town in Iowa, and the rest were recorded two blocks north of Emma McCarthy Lee Park in Ames, which is a considerably larger town half and hour west of Colo. Though happy circumstances currently have the Mountain Goats claiming Ames, we continue to straight up represent Colo and will put the slap down on anyone who disrespects it. Transfer and levels by Bob Durkee at FBE in Pomona, California, with Joel Huschle attending. As a result of some regrettable but inevitable conversations that took place during the transfer, Bob, Joel, and the Mountain Goats have formed a new, super-powerful punk rock machine called Stage Bidet, and we urge you to watch for us and clear us a wide berth whenever we're in your town. Instead of thanking all the people I always thank to whom I say, collectively and with no less sincerity: thanks. I am just going to spend the time left us here addressing an absent friend. Rozz: I wish you hadn't've gone and killed yourself. Though I hadn't seen or spoken with you in eight years since that night when, as far as I can tell from the reports I was later able to piece together, you tried, not without reason, to strangle the life out of me out there on the landing of Damien's apartment and I probably never would have ever seen you again anyway, it was still hard to hear that you were gone. All your friends had been predicting your death since the early eighties, and no-one could bear the thought of you growing old, but none of that did anything to soften the blow when I heard. I don't really believe that the dead see or hear what we do out here in the realm of corruptible things and I don't imagine that the anyone reads the scribblings on the backs of album jackets to them, either, so I am really only addressing a memory. To that memory I say: I thought of you now and then when I was writing these songs. I don't suppose they'd do much for you, but I thought of you all the same. All your friends miss you in some way, a little or a lot. The rumors about your final hours are dismal and tawdry: I am sure they would please you immensely. For your sake, I hope that the Christians were wrong and that you were right about whether the faithless are destined for eternal torment. In the event that you are a ghost and are wandering the earth moaning and rattling chains, I moved to Iowa from California four or five years ago, stop by any time. Have a seat on the couch until I get home from work. Help yourself to anything in the refrigerator, or to the whiskey and sake on top of it. Make yourself right at home.

Album cover design by Tom Hart

#described #transcribed #tmg #the mountain goats #someone has probably already made this post. but i found it therapeutic to write out.

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shalfea · 4 months ago

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RT brainrot is real. I'm even posting my art now^^

So here are a few sketches of my rogue trader, Farriya von Valancius. I don't have a slightest idea how to make an authentic wh40k char design, so. Just playing around with different hairstyles

#kinda therapeutic #i just love the game so much??#the writing? THE COMPANIONS???#my blorbos. i adore each of them #rogue trader #wh40k oc #von valancius #my art #oc: farriya von valancius

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autumn-doodles · 1 year ago

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After I have no idea how long I FINALLY finished transcribing the tensimm speech in EoT into Gallifreyan oh my god-

For the design, i wanted to differentiate dr’s and master’s speech, so I made master’s writing white on black and doc black on white. You may not notice it but I also slightly altered the way I wrote for each of them. The doctor’s speech is full of curved lines and all the dots seen in his speech get larger/smaller in circles, I thought it was a bit more playful like the dr. The master on the other hand has super straight lines and similarly sized dots since master is a lot harsher.

The writing along the outside also reads “End of Time” bc I thought that circle needed something so I just wrote the ep title this speech was from in some weird improvised linear gallifreyan-

And this is how you would read it, each circle is read anti-clockwise from the bottom unless you see the little ‘start here’ symbol: —(•

(If you can be bothered tho lol, I know it’s a bit of an effort)

And now my watermark which I also wrote in gallifreyan for authenticity’s sake

Sadly I can’t post each of the sentences separately but if people are interested I could try sending them in the reblogs!

#this has taken me so fucking long but I have enjoyed every second #writing in gallifreyan is oddly therapeutic #how do these fuckers read this shit so fast though #doctor who #thoschei #tensimm #end of time #gallifreyan #circular gallifreyan #dw #david tennant #simm master #tenth doctor #autumn’s art tag

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wistfulcynic · 1 year ago

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a non-izzy-centric reading of the events of season two

i didn't really want to get into this because it's so, so tiresome and i'd rather talk about the things i loved about this season. Poison, positivity, etc. But.

reading this post about people doubting their own judgement due to the overwhelming noise from Izzy stans along with a rewatch of season two from start to finish made me realise that i too had been influenced by a year and a half of being intensely frustrated by people insisting so loudly that OFMD was in fact the Izzy Hands Show. My initial issues with S2 mostly stemmed from overcompensating for that by resenting any development of Izzy on the screen because i did not want it to feed those people. Which meant that i also was centring Izzy in a way that he should not be centred! i was letting their noise lead me to read him as far more important than he actually is.

So i looked back at several points from the season that had me feeling uncomfortable and which, from a cursory browse through the Izzy tag i've concluded his stans see as a contradiction or a betrayal or something and re-evaluated them from the perspective of Izzy not being a main fucking character.

point one: "He's our dick."

When Archie (a newcomer and therefore a fairly effective audience stand-in for anyone not balls deep in fandom bullshit) asks Jim why they're going to so much trouble for Izzy, who she has immediately clocked as "kind of a dick", Jim gives this response. Which, if you think Izzy is important, may read as an expression of reluctant fondness. But then, Jim continues: "There was a time when life meant something on this ship. When we lived for each other, not just to survive." These lines are punctuated by a flashback to the famous Revenge crew found-family Renaissance-painting moment. Jim is nostalgic for the "good old days" of the Revenge under Stede's people-positive management style. It is out of respect for that (seemingly) lost way of life that they take the trouble for Izzy, not for Izzy himself. They'd have done the same for anyone, because they desperately want life to matter again. Izzy, as the person whose gamy leg is a direct result of his threatening Ed and bringing the kraken era down on all of them, is simply the one whose life happens to be on the line.

(honestly, i love this from Jim, who was one of Stede's boldest detractors in season one and still the crew member most likely to call him out on his bullshit. That's your "reluctant fondness" moment right there.)

point two: the new unicorn

apparently Izzy stans see the gift of the unicorn leg prosthetic as a symbol of deep love and respect from the crew to Izzy. Which is an absolutely wild reading when you look at what led up to it.

There's tension on the ship. Divisions. Lucius is chain-smoking and jump-scared by his own shadow. Jim, Archie, Frenchie, and Fang are overcome by guilt over their mutiny and frantically scrubbing nonexistent blood from the deck in what is a fantastically darkly funny Lady Macbeth moment for them. Izzy is sloppy drunk and yelling nonsensical abuse at the unicorn masthead. Roach, Pete, Oluwande, and Wee John make a well-intentioned but ill-conceived attempt to bring everyone back together (i say "everyone" but Izzy, significantly, is not included) which leads to them all being at each other's throats in the sort of mutually-assured-destruction configuration that starts world wars. It's a great scene. Izzy is not a part of it.

until he interrupts them, throws the unicorn legs at them and in his drunken clumsiness breaks his prosthetic. He then pointedly refuses their offers of assistance and drags himself away along the floor by his arms.

my friends. This is peak pathos. The crew do not respect Izzy in this moment, they feel sorry for him. They realise that he's worse off than any of the rest of them and that knowledge brings them back together. Making the unicorn prosthetic is barely about Izzy at all. It's about the crew coming together, repairing the rifts in their found family and as a bonus helping out their grumpy second cousin who doesn't really want to be there but has nowhere else to go. It's also a very generous offer of a new place on the ship--as the new unicorn--and a fresh start. Because that's what life on the Revenge is. For everyone.

point three: la vie en rose

much has been made of Izzy putting on drag makeup and singing at the Calypso birthday party, and fair enough. That's a big character development point for him. i don't hate it, though i wish there'd been more build-up to it, a longer conversation between Izzy and Wee John at least (insert obligatory "fuck Max" here) but regardless, if we accept Izzy's amputated leg as cutting off his old self and replacing it with the unicorn then we can arrive at a place where he's able to participate in a drag performance without too much cognitive gymnastics.

i've written before about the curious choice to have Izzy sing La Vie En Rose in French (after he initially sang it in English) at the very moment when Ed and Stede are having sex for the first time. On first watch i felt viscerally troubled by it, it felt like a validation of the obsessive psychosexual reading of Izzy's feelings for Ed. Looking at the season as a whole, it feels more like a (cringy, creepy, waaaay over the line) attempt on his part to signal approval for Ed and Stede's relationship. Especially when taken in conjunction with his (super creepy, like wtf who greenlit this) interruption of their breakfast in bed the next morning to make a ham-fisted innuendo. Weird but okay i guess, it's not like Izzy and social niceties have ever gone hand in hand.

many people point to the drag scene as the crew embracing Izzy and welcoming him as one of them. Again, i don't disagree. But, also again, this is not specific to Izzy. This is just what they do. They also embraced Archie with her snake-cult stories, they re-embraced Ed (who yes, they do love, refutations of arguments that they don't love Ed are a whole other essay though) and later they embrace Zheng and Auntie and also Jackie who once stole their savings jar and threatened to cut off their noses. That's what they do! They embrace people! That's what the show is about!

point four: the death scene

i have to be honest, i still hate this. i don't hate that Izzy died, i hate that he died in Ed's arms with Ed calling him his only family. That still feels unearned to me, and alas was probably another victim of the shortened season. But even with this extremely kind and forgiving death scene, the stans are not satisfied! They feel that the entire crew should have been gathered round, assuring Izzy of their profound love for him. There should have been weeping at the funeral, wailing and gnashing of teeth, rending of garments etc. It's what he deserves as such a beloved member of the crew!

except he wasn't beloved. He was accepted, yes. Welcomed, even. But acceptance is a far cry from love. Cheering as someone sings a song at a party does not mean you feel ready to weep at their deathbed or proclaim your undying affection for them.

yet even so, the crew are visibly distraught at his death scene. There are tears in many eyes! But effusive declarations of feeling from any one of them other than Ed would have felt (to anyone not convinced Izzy is the main character) completely wrong and very weird. You can headcanon what you like to fill the gaps in canon but on screen we have seen very few meaningful interactions between Izzy and any of the existing crew aside from Fang and Lucius and to a lesser extent Wee John. Izzy's primary relationship with another character is with Ed and so, as much as i still don't like it, Ed is the only one who has any real reason to be at Izzy's side as he dies.

as for the brevity of the funeral and the fact that they went straight from it to Pete and Lucius's wedding instead of having, idk, a prolonged wake at which everyone speaks at length about how important Izzy was to them, i mean. Obviously that wasn't going to happen. More than enough screen time had already been given to a side character who spent most of it either being miserable himself or making others so. It was time for the rest of them to find some moments of joy. As Izzy himself said, not moving on is worse.

in conclusion, i'd like to address the people saying that Izzy should have lived so he could continue his arc of self-discovery and sure, that would have been great--on the Izzy Hands Show. But OFMD is about Ed and Stede and Izzy had served his purpose in their story. i feel certain there will be copious fanfics to soothe anyone who feels Izzy was shortchanged.

on the show, though, he was treated in a very logical and foreseeable way as the antagonist who was able to see the light at the end but not necessarily to thrive in such a well-lit environment. Literature (by which i mean also films and tv) abounds with examples of this sort of character. They see the error of their ways but they are too stuck in them, shaped by them, to exist comfortably in any other way. They help bring about change to benefit others and not for themselves, that is the bittersweet beauty of their endings.

Izzy let Ed go. He embraced the softer parts of himself. He died surrounded by people who may not have loved him but at least accepted him as one of their own and felt genuine sorrow about his passing. That is a satisfying narrative end for a reformed antagonist! If you truly feel that he was shortchanged by it then you have forgotten what show you're watching and what sort of character he was.

Izzy Hands: not the main character, still an interesting one, absolute nightmare, what a guy.

#our flag means death #ofmd meta #ofmd season two #izzy critical #the izcourse #izzy hands meta #sorry not sorry to people who are going to hate this post but writing it has been therapeutic for me #i'm tired of hating a character on a show i love so much so i shall go back to thinking of him as the nasty rat man and focusing on faves #saira has Thoughts

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chronicrabbit · 2 years ago

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They’re arguing again.

It’s been getting worse recently; the constant bickering like an old married couple.

Steve could usually understand why Eddie was annoyed with him, their disagreements typically toeing the line between heated and playful.

Usually, it was because Steve got a piece of nerd trivia he “definitely knew” wrong on purpose to mess with Eddie.

Or a lot of the time, it was a disagreement on what to watch for movie night, culminating in Steve and Eddie attempting to speak over one another to deliver their point on why their movie was superior while they wrestled to grab at the other’s.

This time, though…

It had started with a comment from Jason Carver.

The asshole was bitter about the almost role reversal between himself and Eddie once Eddie’s name had been officially cleared, the government coverup painting him as the unlikely hero who’d fought off a crazed serial killer to protect the children who’d bravely gone to find him.

Hawkins citizens, not wanting to take the blame of organizing a town-wide witch hunt for an innocent 20 year old and a bunch of freshman, had turned the blame on their old golden boy, citing him as the instigator that’d “poisoned their minds against the Munson boy” and ultimately shunning him.

Jason evidently hadn’t taken too kindly to the change, demonstrated by the drink he’d hurled at Eddie’s head outside of the diner they’d just walked out of and the seething insult that’d barely passed through his teeth before Steve’s fist was connecting with them in a brutal hit that knocked the jock flat on his ass.

In the blink of an eye, a fight had broken out between Steve and Jason’s still loyal cronies, one that ended with Police sirens, a very unimpressed Hopper, and several broken noses and bruised knuckles, including Steve’s own.

Eddie had been stonily silent as he drove them back to Steve’s place, his knuckles white from the suffocating grip he had on his steering wheel and his gear shift.

Steve almost wished he’d left it at that, just allowed Eddie to drop him off and toddled inside to care for his wounds without prodding.

Maybe if he just hadn’t said anything, they wouldn’t be having the screaming match they were currently having in the living room of his house.

“I just don’t understand why you’re so upset about this!” Steve shouted, hands spread out in a questioning shrug as Eddie let out a scoff, rolling those big brown eyes with clear but no less confusing exasperation.

“Of course you don’t, Steve!” he shot back, continuing to pace across the floor with such intensity Steve would be surprised if he didn’t wear a path into the carpet.

“Of-fucking-course you don’t understand! Because that’s just what you do, right? See a threat and swing a punch without a single thought in your fucking head!”

Steve jolted back as if the shouted words were a physical blow.

He sorta felt like they were, a dull pain settling deep in his chest, familiar warmth bubbling up behind his cheeks and eyes.

He pinched at his nose to stave off the hot tears that threatened to spill, wincing as he agitated the no doubt nasty bruise forming on the bridge from a well aimed punch.

“Don’t-“ Steve started to say, his voice wavering as he fought tooth and nail to keep it steady.

“Don’t say that. You… you’re the only one that doesn’t call me dumb. Please…”

Eddie’s expression dropped in an instant, all of that tightly coiled anger disappearing in an instant as he turned to face Steve with deep and instant regret glimmering in his dark eyes.

“Steve,” he breathed, taking a hesitant step toward him. He closed the distance quickly as a tear escaped past Steve’s well laid and well practiced defenses, trailing down his shame flushed cheek before he could manage to stop it.

“Steve, I… I didn’t mean it like that. I’m so sorry,” he spoke in a shockingly gentle voice, as if he expected Steve to just shatter in front of him.

Maybe he would.

“You’re not dumb. You- fuck.”

Eddie’s head dropped down, hanging low between his shoulders as he reached out oh so carefully, taking Steve’s hands in his own.

Steve could feel his heart beating in his throat as Eddie smoothed his thumbs lightly over the bruises forming on his knuckles, the ghost of a touch that was still more than enough to send him reeling.

“I just wish you would think about yourself, sometimes, that’s all.”

Those huge brown eyes met his full force, darker and deeper than any ocean, more vast and more beautiful than the night sky, and Steve was certain he could lose himself in them trying to count each and every constellation.

“You risk so much of yourself all the time. If Henderson can be believed, you have been since ‘83. So many years of putting others before yourself, of being the brave one, the fighter, the protector.”

As if to prove his point, Eddie’s hand came up to hold Steve’s scraped up jaw, his thumb lightly tugging at the scabbed over split on his bottom lip.

Steve winced, but he didn’t move away.

Couldn’t.

“You take care of everyone else. But… who’s gonna take care of you?”

Eddie started to pull away, the lack of proximity, of guitar calloused hands on him, leaving him colder than he’d ever been.

Steve was moving before he could fully think it through, his hand coming up to grip Eddie’s wrist.

He pulled gently, bringing Eddie’s surprise slackened hand back up to once again cup his jaw while he leaned into the touch like a cat.

“Are you volunteering, Munson?”

Steve honestly couldn’t tell who moved first, but the two met in the middle, their lips connecting in a passionate kiss; the kind of kiss that made time stop, that launched ships, that made even the worst cynic believe in love.

A new warmth bloomed through Steve’s body, all encompassing like bright sunlight on a summer morning, and he had never felt safer or more cared for than at that moment, gathered up in Eddie Munson’s arms.

And Steve thought, if this is what happened when they argued, they should argue a lot more often.

#listen I just have a lot of feelings about them okay?#steddie #I will write as many Steddie first kisses as my mind can conjure up #this shit is therapeutic #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve/eddie #steveddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #all those tags

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anianurst · 11 months ago

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OMG IGNORE THE OTHER ASK ME I MEANT MORE BIG BROTHER SUKUNA ur first one was rlly good (poor yuji) but it was rlly good 😜

summary: being with sukuna is like riding a seesaw. good thing his sweet, younger brother, yuji, is there to hear about your problems and be a shoulder to lean on. too bad you don't feel the same for him.

a/n: a part two! i wanted to continue with the band au thing that I wrote about in the first part. i was rewatching victorious and oml jade and beck is kinda of what i picture y/n and sukuna being like (but like more intense). song used is "you don't know me" by Elizabeth gillies (the actress for jade) (here's the link)

warning(s): mentions of toxic relationship, sexual acts!!, leading on (mostly on yuji's part), one-sided feelings (again on yujis part I'm sorry bb), mentions of manga characters not yet introduced in the anime (yorozu and kashimo hajime)

"I told you that I don't want you talking to her anymore! She keeps fucking flirting with you, and I don't like it!" you yell at Sukuna, and like always he rolls his eyes at your antics. Scoffing, you cross your arms and wait for Sukuna to say something, anything at this point to ease your worries.

"Yeah, and I fucking told you that you're overreacting. Yorozu's always like that," he replied, his face pulled into a nasty scowl, his eyes narrowing into a cold gaze. His words do little to ease your anger (or worry) and cause more rage to flare in you.

"Are you fucking kidding me? That's it? That's your excuse for her basically fucking herself on you the entire night?!" you scoff. You think back to how this whole fight started, and a deep pit at the bottom of your stomach starts to form.

Why hadn't you listened to your friends? They knew the type of guy Sukuna was and they warned you about getting involved with him. How someone like him would never allow himself to be tied down to one girl. How he wasn't "boyfriend" material at all.

And they were right. Even though your relationship with Sukuna had evolved past that of a one-night stand to the point where you'd see each other for dinner or even movies, that didn't stop him from basking in the attention of other girls, Yorozu specifically.

Ugh, you hated her the moment that Sukuna had introduced the two of you. The boom of the music that always filled you with a rush of adrenaline and energy seemed to dull as your eyes landed on the girl who clutched onto Sukuna's arm and pushed her boobs into his frame. Her love-sick eyes that always followed him and that ugly high-pitched laugh of hers set off something ugly in you.

The sound of the door opening makes the two of you turn. Yuji walks through the door, his gym bag slung on his shoulder and hair a little matte with sweat. His tired figure seemingly brightens up the second his eyes fall on you, and he's smiling oh-so sweetly at you. It doesn't last long as he notices how there are tears pricking the ends of your eyes and how your arms are crossed in anger.

He's quick to put his gym bag down, head over to you, and place a hand on the small of your back. "You ok? Did Sukuna say something rude to you?" he asks, his voice and eyes filled with nothing but sincere worry and softness.

Sukuna's quick to scoff, and before he knows it, he shoves Yuji away from you. "She's fucking fine," he spits out. Without another word, he turned on the ball of his feet and headed towards his room. His door-slamming echoes throughout the apartment, and with him gone, you finally let your tears fall.

Strong, warm arms are quick to wrap around you as you let your head lean on Yuji's shoulder. Small hiccups leave your lips as Yuji whispers sweet nothings into your ears and rubs comforting circles into your back. "I-I just need to go. I'm sorry, Yuji," you say and quickly step out of his arms and grab your bag from the couch.

"I'm always here for you if you need anything," the pink-haired boy says, and there's a strange tug at your heart. A small and quick 'thanks' is all you can muster before rushing out and away from the apartment.

"You think you're so funny, huh?" Sukuna sneers at you, his eyes glaring down into yours as he holds your wrists together. His leg pushes between your thighs, and a whimper falls from your lips as you feel the familiar hot warmth pulse throughout your body.

"Do-Don't know what you're ta-talking 'bout," you manage to say, lying straight to Sukuna's face. It seems you both know that you're lying, and he lets out a deep chuckle as he lowers his lips to bite into your shoulder. A yelp escapes your lips before you try to hold back a moan.

"Really? So, you weren't throwing yourself on Kashimo like some slut?" Sukuna says back. Your eyes narrow into a glare as your gaze meets his. You can feel his boner pressing into your thigh, and you hate how you can feel yourself getting wet.

"Fuck you," you spit at him, and he laughs again.

"That's the plan, darling."

"Are you sure you are good to go on, y/n? You look like shit," Shoko says, a cig hanging from her lips. A puff of smoke follows, and you grimace as you try to wave it away from you.

"I'm good. Just kinda tired," is all you say, and Shoko doesn't look entirely impressed with your answer. She sighs before putting her cig out and holding your hand in hers.

"Maybe it's time you put an end to whatever you have with Sukuna," she whispers quietly enough so that Satoru and Suguru don't hear it (even though you're pretty sure they're listening in anyway since they, too, are worried about you). And you hate how she says it, "whatever." Shit, you hate that it accurately sums up the relationship between you and Sukuna. Because, in truth, you don't know what you and Sukuna are anymore. You two argue, you fuck, you go out to parties together and then go back to arguing. You don't remember ever having fun together like you did in the beginning. Instead, you've gotten so used to your routine that you've begun looking forward to what happens sometimes after you argue.

How when Yuji comes back to the apartment, and you and Sukuna are in the middle or nearing the end of a yelling match, he'll whisk you away and look at you with those love-filled eyes. How he'll tell you some stupid story that happened to him and his friends, or how he'll take you to the nearby ice cream shop in hopes that it'll cheer you up. How your heart feels much heavier every time you say goodbye to him, and you catch a glimpse of his red, rosy cheeks.

You know that Yuji likes you, but not in a friendly way. No, that he genuinely wants to be in Sukuna's place. He wants to treat you so much better than his older brother does. And you know he would, but you simply can't feel the same for him. No matter how much ice cream you eat or how many stories he tells you, your heart doesn't beat the same for him as it does for Sukuna. And you feel so incredibly guilty about how you let him take you away from your big-bad-scary 'whatever' and act like the two of you are together.

With a huff, you stand up and down the rest of your drink before smiling back at your bandmates. "It's almost time for us to go on."

How fucking shameless can Sukuna be? you think as your gaze sweeps the crowd and lands on him and his friends. Uraume (who you actually like and you think likes you back) is bobbing their head to the beat of the current song while Mahito cheers wildly (he's so wasted) and Hajime is sipping on his drink, and of course, Yorozu is wrapped all around Sukuna.

His eyes aren't on her, though. No, they're staring straight back into yours, and you hate how, after all this time, it still sends a shiver down your spine. The world seems to fade away as you finish the last line of the song, and you're turning to bandmates. "We're doing the new one," is all you say, and they're quick to grin back at you and follow your request.

You think you know me but you don't know me You think you own me but you can't control me You look at me and there's just one thing that you see So listen to me, listen to me!

Your grip on the mic tightens as you push your hair out of your face, a flush rising on your neck. The crowd seems to roar even louder.

You push me back, I push you back, harder, harder You scream at me, I scream at you, louder, l-l-l-l-louder I'm dangerous, I'm warning you But you're not afraid of me and I can't convince you You don't know me

Sukuna shoves Yorozu off his arm as he takes a couple steps forward. There's a smirk growing on his face as your eyes meet again, and there's an ugly but warm pleasure that spreads throughout your body.

And the longer that you stay, the ice is melting And the pain feels okay, it feels okay, hey

You think back to all your arguments with Sukuna, and for a second, you wonder if that's what love really is. Is it supposed to leave you feeling overwhelmed and enraged to the point where you feel too addicted to that same feeling? Well, whatever you think. Maybe it's not supposed to feel that way to other people, but to you and Sukuna, that's what makes the two of you work.

All the pain and yelling is what keeps your hearts beating for one another, and maybe it's toxic and not right. But who cares.

You push me back, I'll push you back You scream at me, I'll scream at you louder, louder Louder, louder, louder, louder Louder! Louder! Louder

Maybe you're both messed up to keep 'whatever' going on, destroying one another and then rebuilding one another through sex. Maybe you're more messed up for dragging poor, innocent Yuji into your hideous cycle. For making him think that perhaps one day you'll wake up and throw yourself into his arms.

You push me back, I push you back, harder, harder You scream at me, I scream at you, louder, l-l-l-l-louder I'm dangerous, I'm warning you But you're not afraid of me and I can't convince you

Poor Yuji, having feelings for someone who already seems to be taken by his cruel older brother. He watches you sing your heart out and shine so beautifully that he knows the flush on his cheeks isn't from the alcohol. He notices that your eyes always seem to go back to the same spot, and as he turns his head, his heart drops as he sees Sukuna standing there, his cheeks flushed a deep red and grin now replacing his smirk.

He watches the spark grow brighter between the two of you, and every nerve in his body tells him to leave. But he can't, not when he starts to see a love-filled grin start to spread on your face.

His heart seems to come back to life as it beats faster while he watches you perform. Someone bumps into him, and then he's brought back to the reality that your gaze and grin aren't directed at him.

And I don't have to, I think you know me

#sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori angst #im sorry yuji my bb #i think i may have a problem when it comes to writing about sukuna eheheh #toxic sukuna #jjk x reader #angsty jjk #i hopes this lives up to the hype of my first blub #oml this turned into a whole fic when i initially planned for it to be another blurb #rewatching victorious was so therapeutic oml my childhood #literally love jade she was always my fave

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