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look this is really probably unnecessary, but I've seen tons of posts about how everyone is mad about the page that's going to post unmasked pics of the st guys and how outrageously disrespectful it is to them and well... I gotta say that it's just not that deep.
it's been pointed out that they've only ever said that 'their identities aren't important to the music or the story'. and that's it in terms of the "extreme lengths" they go to hide their identities.
i'm a regular follower of the reddit page where their identities are openly discussed and there is a decent amount of evidence that one of them or someone from their team lurks there and plays around a little with that community. ie, a few of the recent "the summoning solo shenanigans" were suggested in that thread and then seen on stage the next show. but who knows.
some of the guys are actually still participating in other media to a small extent. one of them still streams with a friend on twitch often. one of them just put out some older official music project on Spotify. one of them gets his new tattoos posted unmasked on his tattoo artist's page.
look, I'm not saying that this person who plans to bring this stuff to Tumblr shouldn't be warned about and of course everyone should have the opportunity to block and avoid it to keep their experience of the band how they prefer. that's no question how it should be.
but like... everyone is saying that this person who's starting the unmasked blog is like, evil and so disrespectful to the band. and I think that's just not right. it's their right to start whatever kind of page they want. it's everyone else's right to avoid it.
like I said, this is not really going anywhere, and it's not personal, I just have seen so many people bashing that person on a personal level and I just gotta tell someone, it's not that deep. thank you for reading
To me it is that deep, from what i’ve heard there was a major panic on Instagram in 2023 bc freaks were using info on there to harass II and his family. Hell he still alters his voice in videos, which you only do if you’re concerned someone is dedicated enough to scrape the internet with audio of your vocal patterns. I’ve seen video footage of Vessel cussing out a guy at a festival for yelling real names in the audience. There is direct evidence that the band members dislike off-stage info being known and shared, and that a portion of Sleep Token’s fanbase cannot be trusted to respect the secrecy that allows the band members to live comfortable lives relatively peacefully and out of the public eye.
In my personal opinion, your examples of how they’re still on other social media, and that you know that info abt them are reinforcement of my dislike for unmasked data aggregates. Unless the tattoo artist’s posts or the twitch stream is tagged #SleepToken there is probably a reasonable expectation that they don’t want band related attention for those things. Even if somebody does recognize them as the band members, it would be a minority population if it weren’t for subreddits and archives directly connecting dots between those things and Sleep Token, which is presumably why you have that info yourself in the first place.
By aggregating and collecting unmasked info, a resource is being provided that essentially says “Hey i know these guys have almost entirely retreated from the internet for their own safety and comfort…but here’s their names and faces and loved ones and colleagues and past projects and every little activity they do in their spare time. All gathered together and directly tagged and marked in relation to the band they’ve purposefully tried to anonymize and distance their real lives from”.
It’s stalker behavior, it’s unhealthy, it could be genuinely dangerous for the members if the wrong person made use of it, and i reserve the right to passionately condemn it.
#my stuff#asks#sleep token#‘it’s not that deep’ is an incoherent excuse for collective behavior that qualifies as cyberstalking and identity doxxing
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OOOH DEATH, I MEAN DICK GRAYSON.
(I know Death already has a personification of a female in DC but pretend they don’t for this AU.)
Death wasn’t a skeleton with a robe made of black or a scythe. Death was more of the delivery person and sometimes could end life with one simple touch.
One day, life, bored from existing since the beginning, challenged death to a game.
“Since you are so cold and indifferent to those whom you take, why don’t you experience what they do? Why don’t you leave?”
It was an intriguing proposal for death, who had never really cared too much for life’s creations. Only a few small and innocent ones ever got a soft and caring voice from death.
“Death cannot be around the living, nor touch it.”
Life smiled softly.
“Maybe for a time it can, a short time, but enough to learn why death is so frightening to those who live.”
Death agreed to this game, and life constructed death a body that death wouldn’t be able to use its power, not unless it truly wanted to.
The body would be more like a vessel to contain death; if death used any hint of power, the body would begin to crack, almost like ice.
And thus Dick Grayson was born; of course, Dick didn’t know the requirement to live was to not know what was waiting on the other side.
But then Jason died, and when Dick returned from space, he sat at Jason’s grave. He didn’t get to say goodbye; he was angry with himself, angry with Bruce, and furious with the Joker.
“He can’t be dead. I didn’t—
His train of thought stops. ‘He didn’t what?’ He wonders why he lost his train of thought.
Jason ended up being alive, a miracle, but then after that so much happened.
Like John Constantine, a man he only heard tales of, stops dead in his tracks when he sees Dick, and he looks terrified. Normally, heroes find comfort in his presence and enjoy his company, but Dick didn’t even get to speak before Constantine disappeared, and Jason ended up laughing along with Tim and Steph, whereas Damien stated, ‘Constantine is a fool Grayson, a drunken fool; don’t mind him.’
And weird stuff like that kept happening. The weirdest one was when Darkside came, a being who represented death, but when Dick finally arrived right before Darkside prepared to kill Captain Marvel, Darkside paused, looking around almost in disbelief and confusion before dropping Captain Marvel and, funnily enough, quickly leaving.
Yet Dick still didn't connect anything or question it, but Tim and Duke began to.
(Dick sort of doesn’t remember what he truly is, and this is more of a game playing human but he feels and knows things deep down like Jason was supposed to die and stay dead, and Dick didn’t want to be close to him because some part on a deeper leveled remember that, and then when Jason died the human part was angry allowing a small part of his true self to leak through creating a small crack, so when he trails off he almost was gonna say I didn’t take him, and his close relationship with Damien because of the Lazarus pit he can sense that in Damien blood practically even though he doesn’t know it, Constantine dipping compared to other magic users like Zatanna is because the others don’t know and most people when they die, find death peaceful so that and Dicks charming personality is why heroes and others like him all find themself comfortable around Dick. whereas Constantine is different when he dies it won’t be peaceful he will be in hell, so he feels overwhelming death instead of happy vibes.)
This was just another silly idea.
(NOT EDITED LOL, SORRY FOR SPELLING MISTAKES, ME SICK TOO.)
#batman#batfam#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damien wayne#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#dick grayson is death#batman writing ideas#dc comics idea#not edited might spell check in the morning
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Fruit Skewers, Laced Drinks, and the Whole Shabang
A/n: @tsunami-of-tears I AM YOUR SECRET SANTA!! ik crazy right! Anyway here’s your mix of angst, a lil bit of fun, and vague holiday spirit! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT LOL but it fine if u dont…
MERRY CHRISTMASSS or HAPPY SOLSTICE.
thank you @acotargiftexchange for hosting this lovely event.
word count: 2.1k
Eris POV
Most people don’t think of the spymaster of the Night Court as an avoidant person. In fact, when people do think of him it’s often when they’re committing a crime or sitting in shadows that look like they’re moving, or even seeing him on the street and finding him pretty.
Well Eris found the spymaster to be a very avoidant male. Yes, he was good looking and smart and the whole package. But Eris found he sucked and communicating. Not even in the normal way people sucked at communicating, in a way that he didn’t even try to talk about anything. All the spymaster did was kiss Eris’s weak spot until the heir gave in and stopped trying to make a half-decent conversation.
Then again, Eris supposed one could defend Azriel’s actions. Considering their families, their past, the rejection of same sex relationships in the Autumn court, Beron, Morrigan, and every other little detail.
However, none of that changed what had happened a few years ago at the solstice court meeting. The two of them had had a little too much to drink and got a little carried away. The night had ended with Azriel in Eris’s bed and the morning after the cold air from a very open balcony window had greeted Eris the moment he woke up.
And still, a decade later, they hadn’t said a word about it. What they had done was fuck so much that Eris had found more new kinks he didn’t know about in ten years than he’d found in a century.
“What in the cauldren has you sighing every few seconds?” Eris blinked, his mother’s voice pulling him from his thoughts. Shit, he was still in the dining room eating dinner with his mother. Well, she was eating; his food was untouched.
“Sorry.”
“What’s up with you?”
“Noth-.” He was cut off by a single raised brow that spoke volumes. “It's a romantic problem…”
His mother smiled. “With the shadowsinger, yes?”
Eris grunted in confirmation, choosing to not question how she knew about his so-called “relationship.”
“What’s wrong? Obvious problems excluded, of course.” Her words dragged a bitter smile to his lips as he thought of what he should say. He could tell her the truth and simultaneously put her in danger if anyone found out. Or he could lie. The fact that the choice he made came so easily concerned him to no end.
“He won’t talk unless it relates to court problems. All he wants to do when we’re alone is have sex.”
His mother grinned. “I never thought I’d see the day you complained about too much sex. Guess there’s a first time for everything.”
Eris grumbled something unintelligible and rolled his eyes.
“In all seriousness, find a time and place to talk. One where it’s too public to do anything but it’s just private enough to have a conversation. Also you need a reason he can’t leave. For example, if Rhysand assigned him to stay by your side and make sure you don’t do anything stupid. The best chance you’ll get to do this is at the annual solstice high lord meeting. Since everyone knows Beron won’t want to come considering it’s basically just a party… You’ll have to go in his stead and someone from each court will likely be watching you because nobody trusts the autumn court.“
Eris raised his hand, trying to stop the flow of information. “Perhaps, write it down?”
His mother chuckled. “Y’know I’m actually preparing you for your high lord duties. You really can’t be seen taking notes during a high lord meeting; it shows weakness.”
Eris rolled his eyes. “Stop teasing, we both know Beron doesn’t remember shit. He just does whatever he wants.”
“Yes, but you wish to be a better High Lord than him. Can’t do that if you copy him.”
“Well since I’ll be such a better high lord than Beron, it won’t be considered weak to take notes.”
His mother shook her head, a smile dancing on her lips.“I’ll write it down, but you just need to trust yourself.”
Eris said nothing. He knew he couldn’t trust himself around Azriel. It always led to him giving into the spymaster’s whim.
Az POV
“OY AZRIELLL!!”
He barely refrained from groaning as Cassian pulled the curtains aside and sunlight came streaming in.
“Go away.”
“BUT TODAY’S THE PARTYYYY!! YOU AGREED TO LET FEYRE, NESTA, AND ELAIN DRESS YOU UP IF YOU LOST AT CHESS. AND YOU LOSTTTTT!!”
“Because you all cheated.”
“You never said we couldn’t!” Cassian is practically singing as he dances around Azriel’s bed, trying to prod him awake.
Azriel groaned. “I’ll be up in 30. Now get out.”
Cassian pouted but ultimately decided to leave before Azriel could change his mind and argue that he would have won if they hadn’t fed him too many bottles of Rhysand’s expensive wine and cheated.
Fifteen minutes later, Azriel warily dragged himself from bed. Normally, he would be fine, in fact he could be a morning bird. But all the wine he’d drank last night seemed to have caused a pounding headache that he doubted would get better.
He took a quick shower and dressed in casual black clothes before heading out. On his way to the River House he grabbed a pastry and jumped off a random balcony.
Letting himself freefall, Azriel’s thoughts wandered to forbidden territory. Eris would be at the party tonight. The fireling’s scent was ingrained in Azriel’s mind- smoke and crisp autumn leaves.
Azriel sighed. He knew Eris wanted to talk, it was devastatingly obvious. The hurt that flashed in those amber eyes whenever Azriel brushed him off seemed an ever prominent companion in his day to day life. But it just wouldn’t work. Eris was going to be High Lord and Azriel was… well Azriel.
“He’s here!”
His high lady’s voice floated through the air, effectively cutting his thoughts short. He landed and glowered at Cassian.
“The party is at 8 in the evening.”
“Yes and?”
“It does not take twelve hours to get me ready.
Feyre cut in, “Of course it doesn’t. But do you really think we have things prepared? This bet was last minute and made drunkenly at around two am.”
“All the more reason we should agree to not do it.”
“Nope! Just an excuse to go shopping.”
Azriel groaned but a slight smile played on his lips, maybe he could use this distraction from Eris.
Eris POV
At precisely 8pm Eris and his advisors winnowed to the dawn court. Ever since that High Lord meeting during the war, the dawn court had been all the high lords preferred spot to meet. Eris wasn’t sure why but it was fine with him, just as long as nobody was in his court.
They were greeted by a female that showed them to a dimly lit ballroom. Most of the other High Lord’s were already mingling and Eris spotted Vivian, Mor and Feyre. Azriel’s probably here then. Good.
Eris sighed, dismissing his advisors and heading for the food table. Picking up a skewer of grapefruit and some unidentified berries, Eris dove in. One could argue the only reason he came to these parties was for the food. More often than not, his first thought was complaining about the autumn court food. It wasn’t bad, in fact, Eris loved the spices and bold flavors, but after a few centuries, you occasionally long for something else.
Something refreshing.
A light touch to his thigh urged him to pause his munching and look down. One if Azriel’s shadows was curled around his leg, seemingly looking up at him with puppy eyes.
Eris suppressed a smile and looked around to find the shadowsinger already watching him from a dark corner. He did a double take, blinking in disbelief at what he saw. Azriel, the feared spymaster of the night court was wearing a light blue t-shirt and loose, frilly, white pants. And he looked good. Eris hesitated, grabbed another fruit skewer and headed his way.
“Fireling,” Azriel greeted, plucking the extra fruit skewer from his hand.
Eris made a sound of protest, mouth stuffed with food. “Was mine.”
“You look like a toddler given access to his favorite candy store at these parties.”
Eris frowned, waving his hand, trying to get his rebuttal across without opening his mouth.
Azriel chuckled, biting into the stolen skewer. He groaned in satisfaction, gobbling down the rest of the skewer before Eris could finish his.
“What in the world are you wearing?”
“It was a bet.” Azriel waved his stick where fruit was seconds before. “These are good.”
“Did all that food just disappear?”
“It was good.”
“You’ve never had them before? These parties have been going on for a decade.”
“I’m usually too distracted by you.”
Eris chokes on his last piece of fruit. “Huh?”
Azriels lips twitched, “That wasn’t very heir like.” He tutts, wagging a finger. “The rumors seem to be true, you’re gonna be overthrown by a brother.”
Eris raises a brow. “Firstly, you cannot be talking, have you seen yourself in those clothes? Besides wouldn’t you miss me, beloved spymaster of the feared Night Court?” He leaned closer, lips almost brushing Azriel’s ear. “After all, you do seem to have taken a particular liking to me. Or shall I say, a liking to fu-”
Azriel clamped a hand over his mouth. “Not here,” he hisses.
“Where else then?” Eris sticks his tongue out, liking the scarred hand covering his mouth. “All you wanna do is fuck whenever we’re alone. So why not speak here? Your shadows can ensure nobody hears us.”
Azriel frowns. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” Eris raises a brow as if to say, do tell. “We should stop.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s never going to work out and we don’t seem to have any special connection. It’s also a hassle since we’re from different courts and it really would be convenient for both of us if we stopped. Besides, if you really need pleasure that badly, there are some wonderful places across Prythian that could serve one’s needs.
Eris gawked at Azriel. His jaw was practically on the floor in shock and his body had gone slack. Azriel, the guy who never talked and always convinced Eris to fuck was the one calling off this ‘situantionship.’ Adding that the one time he did talk was to inform Eris of good pleasure houses. Well, sorry mother, guess you wrote that down for nothing.
“Right, like you weren’t the one practically leaping on me every time. But by all means, go ahead, end us. It’s not like anyone else will ever understand you like I do. And of course we aren’t mates because why would the mother put someone like you with someone like me.” Eris finishes his last sentence off with a growl, teeth bared.
Azriel’s brows twitch, “What is that supposed to mean? Am I not good enough for a future High Lord?”
Eris shakes his head, attempting to stop the sudden feeling of emptiness in his heart. He turned form the male and his bright clothes.
“Whatever Azriel. I’m done with you.”
Az POV
Okay, so he might have messed up. He’d basically called Eris not special and not worth the hassle. He’d also said he knew a lot of good pleasure houses, which wasn’t a lie, he did. But the male he’d been fucking for the past decade probably didn’t want to hear that, even though they hadn’t said they were exclusive. Not that that was an excuse. All in all, Azriel regretted everything. Especially since the moment the red-haired heir had left, a beautiful, deafening, snap, echoed in his ears.
The other side of the bond was foggy which made Azriel assume Eris had absolutely no idea. Great. That was not helpful in his current position. What was he supposed to do? Go up to Eris and say, ‘by the way, we’re mates! Sorry for saying we have no special connection, could we reconcile?’
Azriel sighed, deciding to get a drink. He approached a rose-gold cup with a pink-tinged liquid inside. After sniffing it, he downed the drink in one gulp. The liquid fogged his head, making it hard to think. But it tasted good. Like the pumpkin spice lattes that Eris would sometimes give him. He hummed, going to grab another cup.
He stopped, a sudden realization settling in. He had taken the first cup, nobody else had drank one all night. He knew because Thesan always said that once a drink was out, it was out. Azriel slowly looked up. People were watching him, eyes drilling into his skull. Shit. What the fuck was that drink?
‘Whatever Azriel. I’m done with you.’
Azriel’s head shot up. That was Eris’s voice, those were his words, his tone, his accent. It was Eris yet Eris wasn’t even in this room.
What the fuck?
‘I’m done with you.’
Azriel hissed softly. This was bad. Hearing voices was a sure sign of 1. crazyiness, 2. in this case, a love potion, 3. being cursed. It was most likely the second option, which was definitely not ideal.
A small crowd of onlookers gathered, seemingly waiting for a reaction.
Azriel’s shadows surrounded him, almost laughing at their master. He couldn’t even blame them if they took Eris’s side in this matter. Sure, Eris had said some horrible things but at the end of the day, Azriel was the one to start the whole situation to begin with.
So he closed his eyes, and let his shadows control wherever he goes, just as long as it’s out of this damn room.
The only thing?
He didn’t expect to land right on top of a half-asleep Eris Vanserra.
dividers by @saradika
lol idk i like it- I tried to leave an open ending…
#bubybubsters#acotar#acowar#fanfic#eris vanserra#azriel#azris#acotar gift exchange#acotar secret santa#azriel x eris#azris angst
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the "willogenics aren't valid" discourse kinda makes me chuckle as a CDD system who intentionally created a part recently (if i still used origin labels that'd make me mixed-origin? traumaendo? idk i'm just a Guy). not even just because of that, but because of this insistence that in order to be valid it MUST have a paper written about it. "if your exact experience hasn't been documented by scientists, then it can't have happened" is such a wild sentiment to me.
like...even if there weren't brain scans (which there are!), who are you (generic you) to tell people "no, your subjective experience isn't happening. i know your brain because all brains function the same way (within the norm) unless they acceptably do so otherwise"? wild. if anything, shouldn't this unique experience popping up so frequently encourage curiosity? that's probably how we got the created systems brain scans.
idk this might be incoherent but it feels like syscourse is obsessed with defining all of your experiences for you and categorizing them into valid and not valid. rather than just letting you. idk. have your experiences and share them. it's why i haven't come out about having a created part lol—i just don't feel like dealing with people going "that specific part isn't valid clearly you're mistaken" or "oh you poor thing the endos got to you :(" or "throw the whole cdd away you're lying all the way down" while i'm navigating this on my own.
great account btw corine. :)
This is very true. I was just informed that the brainscans indicate DID-related switches between trauma holders and non-trauma holders, which, hypothetically, traumagenic systems without DID/OSDD could participate in that study as well.
It's really funny how we have to have every single living experience written on paper for it to be real or valid. If it's not written on paper, wouldn't it be the best course of action to put them on paper? Which they are! There's currently a study (at Stanford) about tulpas, which I have also been informed about!
Instead of judging, fakeclaiming, etc., we should ask questions. Validate a stranger's experience, because no one knows what they're going through. Even if I didn't believe in willogenic/tulpa/paro/etc, I would never fakeclaim them in fear of them actually experiencing something. Fakeclaiming helps no one but the person fakeclaiming. They seem like the "hero" or the "vigilante" of systemhood.
Thank you, anon. <3
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every year people get angry when ao3 requests donations but honestly in a world where almost all spaces online are slowly being eaten by corporations which censor the content on those sites, having a fan-run fan-sponsored place where people can create gay art without fear is great
#ao3#i understand the frustration when donation posts are not getting funding#while ao3 does#but ultimately you can't control how people spend their money and having a space like this for#people to preserve writing even if its silly fanfiction is a good thing#archives are very useful and important and preserving a space of the internet for works created out of joy and passion#is not a bad thing#urging people do donate to any random donation post instead of ao3 is reckless when it's incredibly hard to verify#the source of the donation posts and whether its legit#unless of course you know the person in question
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Half the internet talking about how we just need to be more niceys to men and misogyny is the fault of mean internet feminists and the other half going "Let's try seperatism again!" I'm so tired. I want to be in community with men, especially marginalized men whose political goals align with mine, while trusting that any critique of misogyny won't immediately turn them into fascists. Is that too much to ask?
#feminism#misogyny#sexism#both 'all the young boys are buying into violent misogyny because a leftist tweeted she hates men'#and 'men are inherently unsafe stop having relationships with them'#assume that men are categorically incapable of caring about something for a reason other than personal gain#it's either:#the left must appeal to men (not based on their race or class or other forms of marginalziation- no. specifically benefit men as a class)#because they'll never care about misogyny if there's nothing in it for them#OR it's:#stop giving men anything they want. because they'll never care about misogyny unless there's something in it for them.#am i naive??? for believing you can teach someone to care about other people?#I feel like even progressives barely believe in the idea of a male feminist anymore#because apparently they think male feminists must constantly be assured that they're one of the good ones or else they'll become a fascist#idk... that doesn't sound much like a feminist to me#the thing is that if i take half a step back i'm like obviously this is possible i literally already know men like this.#the problem is that they're a small minority but it handily proves this isn't an inherent issue.#of course it isn't i dont believe in gender essentialism!#but internet discourse pretending men are the only demographic categorically incapable of allyship makes me question myself sometimes
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Hi GT,
Forgive me if this is a stupid question, but I absolutely love the recs you've given (you've introduced me to tomione, and I love it!) and I was wondering if it's possible to give you some recs in return? There are some books and fics that definitely have dramione / got vibes, and I was wondering if I could share them with you!
So glad you've enjoyed them! Feel free to rec me anything you want. I've read most of the classic recs in terms of fic and adjacent content (Cruel Prince et al), but I'll try anything that's well-written. My tastes run towards weird and/or audaciously creative stuff, and I can forgive a lot of weaknesses in plot on the grounds of (1) ambition or (2) character work. My turnoffs are instalove, protagonists who can't fail, and most Y/A (I'm not a hater, I swear, I just need characters who can say "fuck" when their leg gets chopped off.)
I'm also a fan of weird and fucked-up dynamics.(Wuthering Heights was my favorite book for a while, and as a teenager I wrote an AU in which the book ends on a long sex scene where Heathcliff fucks Cathy's ghost and then immediately gets murdered by Catherine 2.) Obviously, I am very normal.
#greenteacup asks#my beef with Y/A is mostly expressed in a dissonance between tone and content#LOVE the content. dystopia fantasy horror sex and blood — awesome. but question. why are they all saying 'darn'?#like in the vampire diaries where they'll watch people get eaten and then 2 episodes later be like 'omg SCHOOL DANCE'#(EDIT: actually in fairness. on the vampire diaries. it was mostly just caroline that did that. unfair example my apologies)#& i distinguish this critique from a common bitch-and-moan complaint about tv shows being interested in 'girly' things#like relationships and social standing. that is not my complaint. that shit is delicious. i will chomp that shit for days#my issue is that when the stakes oscillate wildly from episode to episode and i can't tell what the main thing is#like sorry. a story with murder in it is always going to be about murder. you can't make it not about murder#unfortunately! many have tried.#and in general i have difficulty reading about teenagers bc—#(she says having written 600k words about them OKAY I KNOW. i contain multitudes.)#because they're either mini-adults (preferred flavor. jude in the cruel prince nails this) or like leetol babies to me#and unless it's something like the hunger games where the Leetol Baby thing is part of the story#i'm like. hang on. you're 12 what are you doing here#percy jackson was hard for me to re-read as an adult for this reason#which is why they're enjoyable for teenagers! because as a teenager you DO feel like an adult#and you like reading books that treat you like one! nothing wrong with that! healthy even!#only then you get past the teenage years (mashallah) and you get stuff like twilight#where of COURSE bella doesn't think twice about 117 year old man falling in love with her#because he looks like a rich mysterious 17-year-old hottie#but you reread it later and it's like um well. that. could be explored a little more maybe.#i'm not even necessarily opposed to it. candidly. still team edward. i just think the dynamic should be more fucked up and juicy.#which Y/A authors are often reluctant to do. like. COWARDS! face the nasty consequences of your narrative decisions!#anyhow. you didn't ask for any of this. please give me your recs lovely person you seem very nice.
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Small amendment, as some of this seems like it’s drawn from large university/lecture hall experience: if you’re in a small class, >20 people or so, it’s polite (and smart- you might miss something important) to wait for a break to go to the bathroom or refill your water bottle or whatever it is you need to do. Chances are if it’s a long class your professor is going to put a break in there for you. But yeah, don’t raise your hand in the middle of discussion to ask to go to the bathroom.
Actual good first-time college student advice:
Wear jeans/pants that “breathe” and bring a sweater, even if it’s scorching hot out, until you know which building blasts the AC to 60 degrees F and which feels like a sauna
Backpacks with thick straps are your friend! Messenger bags are cool and all but if you’re commuting with a lot of stuff, symmetrically styled backpacks are better for your back
You are your own person and you can walk out whenever you need to or want to, so long as you’re not disrupting the class. Meaning you can go to the bathroom without permission, take a breather if you’re anxious, answer an important phone call, etc.
If you don’t like the class on the first day, if you can- DROP THAT CLASS AND TAKE ANOTHER ONE! It’ll only get worse from there!
If you can, take a class outside your major; it’s a good break from your expected studies.
You are in charge of your schedule. Your adviser and guidance counselor is there to ‘advise and guide’ but if you don’t like certain classes and you can substitute for others, that’s your choice.
Consequently, if you are changing anything drastic in your plan, talk with your adviser and instructors.
Pay attention to your credit hours and grades. Never leave this to the last week of school, you will be sorry and stressed beyond belief!
Unless it’s a lab book or otherwise specified, go to the class for a week or so before buying an expensive textbook. Some classes, while having it on their required list, do not actually use the textbook a whole lot and you might find some of it scanned online. Rent if you can or buy used online (schools actually don’t give discounts). Use your best judgement on what you think you need.
Tell the people who go up to you selling or advertising things you are not interested in that you are in a rush to class and don’t have time to listen to them. It’s less rude and they’ll leave you alone.
The smaller the class, the better it is to have some sort of acquaintanceship with a couple classmates. They might save your ass if you are absent one day or need to study. And talking with them makes the time go by faster without it being so insufferable.
You don’t need to join a club or sport, but internships are cool and useful!
If you can afford it, take a day off once or twice each semester if you’re too exhausted. Just be aware of what you missed and if it was worth missing!
Your health is the most important, this goes for mental health too!! Note: College-age/upper teens is when mental disorders like depression and anxiety are most commonly diagnosed. Most schools have therapy services, especially during exam time. Look into it if you need to!
Communicate with your professor if you are having trouble with something. Anything.
Eat and stay hydrated. Bring a water bottle and snack to class.
All-nighters will happen but never go over 36 hours without sleep.
It’s going to be hard and there will be times you might think about giving up. This WILL happen. You just have to make sure what you’re doing isn’t making you absolutely miserable and/or there is something rewarding and positive to look forward to at the end!
#unless it’s been a few classes and you know the professor usually gives a break at 45 minutes and said they would and have forgotten#then it’s totally fine to be the person who (when they pause between slides or w/e to take questions) says ‘hey Dr. B. were we going to have#that break at 2:30?’ because they’ll probably say oh my gosh of course. I got caught up in the slides. take five and we’ll talk about#heteronormativity when you get back
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Please don't tune out when you get to the non-partisan section of your ballot this November. First off, where state Supreme Court justices are elected, Republicans are trying their darndest to elect candidates who will destroy reproductive freedom, gut voting rights, and do everything in their power to give "contested" elections to Republicans. Contrast Wisconsin electing a justice in 2023 who helped rule two partisan gerrymanders unconstitutional, versus North Carolina electing a conservative majority in 2022, who upheld a racist voter ID law and a partisan gerrymander that liberal justices had previously struck down both of.
Second, local judicial offices will make infinitely more of an impact on your community than a divided state or federal legislature will. District and circuit courts, especially, are where criminalization of homelessness and poverty play out, and where electing a progressive judge with a commitment to criminal justice reform can make an immediate difference in people's lives.
It's a premier example of buying people time, and doing profound-short-term good, while we work to eventually change the system. You might not think there will be any such progressive justices running in your district, but you won't know unless you do your research. (More on "research" in a moment.)
The candidates you elect to your non-partisan city council will determine whether those laws criminalizing homelessness get passed, how many blank checks the police get to surveil and oppress, and whether lifesaving harm reduction programs, like needle exchanges and even fentanyl test strips, are legal in your municipality. Your non-partisan school board might need your vote to fend off Moms for Liberty candidates and their ilk, who want to ban every book with a queer person or acknowledgement of racism in it.
Of course, this begs the question — if these candidates are non-partisan, and often hyper-local, then how do I research them? There's so much less information and press about them, so how do I make an informed decision?
I'm not an expert, myself. But I do think/hope I have enough tips to consist of a useful conclusion to this post:
Plan ahead. If you vote in person, figure out what's on your ballot before you show up and get jumpscared by names you don't know. Find out what's on your ballot beforehand, and bring notes with you when you vote. Your city website should have a sample ballot, and if they drop the ball, go to Ballotpedia.
Ballotpedia in general, speaking of which. Candidates often answer Ballotpedia's interviews, and if you're lucky, you'll also get all the dirt on who's donating to their campaign.
Check endorsements. Usually candidates are very vocal about these on their websites. If local/state progressive leaders and a couple unions (not counting police unions lol) are endorsing a candidate, then that's not the end of my personal research process per se, but it usually speeds things up.
Check the back of the ballot. That's where non-partisan races usually bleed over to. This is the other reason why notes are helpful, because they can confirm you're not missing anything.
I've seen some misconceptions in the reblogs, so an addendum to my point about bringing notes on the candidates: I strongly suggest making those notes a physical list that you bring polling place with you. Many states do allow phones at the polling place, but several states explicitly don't — Nevada, Maryland, and Texas all ban phones, and that may not be an exhaustive list. There may also be states that allow individual city clerks to set policies.
You should also pause and think before you take a photo of your ballot, because even some states that don't ban phones still ban ballot photographs. But whether it's a photo, or just having your phone in general — in an environment as high-risk for voter suppression as the current one, you don't want even a little bit of ambiguity about your conduct. Physical notes are your friends.
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Jawbreaker
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky put a mouthy rookie in his place. Word Count: Over 800 Warnings: Established relationship, mention of injury, misogyny, punching, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes defending you (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm dedicating this to @whisperlullaby , who got to read this in advance, because she deserves this man (along with the rest of you). ❤️Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
A small part of Bucky felt bad as he idly wiped his hand with a towel. A very small part.
He didn’t want people to fear him because of his past and he refused to let it define him. That meant that he tried his best to avoid violent tactics unless absolutely necessary.
But today, well, fuck that. The fucker had it coming.
Steve stood in front of him, his blue eyes narrowed as he waited for his best friend to acknowledge him.
Oh, Bucky expected some sort of reprimand, but he was sure Steve would change his tune in a minute or so.
“You gonna ask me what happened, punk, or glare at me until I talk?” He asked, tossing the towel away.
The blonde huffed out a laugh, but he didn’t look amused. “Why did you break that rookie’s jaw?”
Bucky tilted his head. “What’s the phrase? He fucked around and found out.”
You would’ve been proud of him for that reference.
Steve shook his head when Sam burst out laughing a few feet away. “Sam, please,” he begged, though his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. “What did the guy do?”
A bitter taste flooded Bucky’s mouth as anger coursed through his veins again. He inhaled as he thought of your sweet smile and soft touch before he exhaled, the storm inside of him calming.
“Buck, you gotta tell us something,” Steve urged, needing some sort of information to try and do some damage control.
The brunette straightened up to look his friend in the eyes, wanting him to see the fury beneath the cold mask. “He told my girl to throw an apron on and get back in the kitchen when she went to spar.”
You, one of the most capable agents Bucky had ever known.
You, who had shown nothing but kindness to everyone, even when they didn’t deserve it.
The person Bucky was lucky enough to call his other half. His better half.
And some asshole rookie had the gall to treat you as if you didn’t belong there with the rest of them.
Sam was no longer laughing. Steve’s jaw clenched in understanding.
Bucky swallowed, that fury threatening to surface again as he remembered the hurt that filled your eyes at the comment. “You know I’d support anything she wants to do, whether that’s working or staying at home. It doesn’t give some prick the right to make her feel bad for her decision.”
“You know I don’t like bullies, but breaking his jaw?” Steve questioned. The guy deserved it, but did the punishment actually fit the crime?
“When she walked away, he said to come back when she was ready to see what a real man could do for her,” he said, the words coming out like a snarl.
The way you tensed up, fear and disgust flickering on your face, he didn’t think. A switch inside of him went off and he swung.
The fucker was lucky that all he got was a broken jaw. He could’ve done so much worse.
And it wasn’t that you couldn’t defend yourself because you could, but you shouldn’t have to put up with garbage like that.
A cracking sound echoed in the room before he realized he crushed the armrest of his seat. “Fuck. I’ll pay for that,” he mumbled, kicking a bit of the broken piece with his boot. “Can you just tell me how much trouble I’m in so I can get back to my girl?”
He didn’t care if he they suspended or even fired him as long as he got back to you.
The room stayed silent before Sam mused, “Technically, what the rookie did counts as harassment.”
Steve nodded. “And I’m sure Nat can persuade him not to sue for the injury he received,” he added, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’ll take care of it, Buck. Just. No more breaking jaws, okay?”
“When it comes to my girl, I make no promises,” Bucky smiled, his heart racing at the thought of you. “And maybe he’ll think twice before he opens his mouth again.”
“The damage you did, I don’t think he can open his mouth at all,” Sam mumbled.
Bucky’s phone went off before he could comment, his heart swelling as he read your text. He had to bite back a groan, too.
“Thank you again, Jawbreaker. I love you and I’ll be on my knees waiting for you.”
You wanted to thank him not just with words, but with your body and heart. It all belonged to him, like he belonged to you.
And he didn’t need to tell Steve and Sam what the message said since it was just for the two of you. “Love you, too, baby. Nothing to thank me for, but I’m on my way. Be ready.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Maybe we'll see how you "thank" Bucky down the road. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes headcanon#bucky barnes fanfiction#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#the winter soldier#bucky barnes fanfic#x reader#sebastian stan x reader#james barnes x reader#bucky fanfic
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#. URGENT NONSENSE HOTLINE
featuring 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. itoshi sae, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei
fluff + slight suggestive. calling your cop boyfriend while he's in the middle of work, and he thinks it's super important, only for you to ask him the most ridiculous and random questions.
characters aged up to 21 and above. rin and shidou are fathers.
ITOSHI SAE
The police radio crackled in the background as Sae was sitting in his squad car, a rare moment of calm during his patrol. His phone buzzed, and the screen lit up with your name. It was unusual for you to call during his shift, so naturally, his heart skipped a beat hoping nothing happened to you.
He immediately answered, his tone calm. Your boyfriend was concerned more than anything, and if something was wrong, God forbid what was going to happen to the person who dared to hurt you. “What is it? Are you okay?”
You, completely oblivious to his worries, immediately started talking cheerfully and giggling “Sae! Do you think dinosaurs should still exist? Wouldn’t it be awesome if they came back? Imagine us walking a T-Rex like a dog!”
Sae blinked, deadpan. There was a long, heavy silence on the other end. You could almost hear the gears grinding in his head as he tried to process what you just said.
“...Are you serious?” he finally asked, his voice dangerously calm. Oh, no. You're obsessed with dinosaurs again, and that wasn't good…at all.
“Of course I’m serious! Think about how cool it would be—like, riding a Triceratops to work or flying with a Pterodactyl!” you babbled on, completely oblivious to his growing annoyance.
You couldn't see but your boyfriend rolled his eyes as he rubbed his temple, leaning back in his seat. His sharp tongue couldn’t be contained any longer.
“You know they made Jurassic Park for that reason, right? And spoiler alert: it didn’t end well.”
“But that’s just a movie!” you argued. “We could make it work this time! Think of all the science we have now!”
“You called me—while I’m working—to ask about dinosaurs,” Sae interrupted, his tone flat. “Dinosaurs. You’re aware I have actual, real-life problems to deal with… Like thefts and, you know, crime?”
“...So is that a no on the dinosaur pets?” you teased, voice now full of sadness and disappointment.
He sighed, muttering under his breath in frustration but unable to help the small, begrudging smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky I love you. Now hang up before I block your number.”
As the call ended, he shook his head, muttering to himself, “Dinosaurs. Unbelievable.” Still, the thought of you having fun with what you will call your "pet" lingered in his mind for the rest of his shift—and he hated how it made him go to the nearest store to buy you a dinosaur plushie.
MICHAEL KAISER
Kaiser was in the middle of gearing up for an undercover mission, his shirt tossed over the back of a chair as he adjusted the strap of his tactical vest. When his phone buzzed with your name on the screen, he hesitated for just a moment before answering. Worry flickered in his eyes—it wasn’t often you called during his work hours unless it was important.
"Mein Schatz, what’s wrong?" he asked immediately, his voice laced with concern.
You, however, had other plans. “My love, if I hypothetically steal something, would you be the one to handcuff me?”
There was a silence as an answer when he blinked, momentarily thrown off by the absurdity of the question. A smirk began to spread across his face as he leaned back in his chair, half-naked and amused. “Engel, you’ve already stolen something very valuable.”
Your eyes widened on the other end of the line. You stopped twirling your hair, your voice suddenly tinged with worry as though you'd accidentally committed grand theft without realizing it. “I… I did? What did I steal?”
Kaiser chuckled, the kind of low, teasing laugh that made your cheeks heat up even through the phone. “Yeah, you already stole my heart.”
Your indignant sputtering was music to his ears. He leaned forward, propping his elbow on the table and grinning like the cocky devil he was. “And didn’t we test those handcuffs enough already?" he added, his smirk growing. "Remember last night? You were so curious if they were strong enough to hold you—"
“Goodbye, baby! Good luck with your work!” you interrupted, your voice high-pitched and flustered.
Kaiser laughed out loud as you hung up, shaking his head in pure delight. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he muttered to himself, “You’re too cute, mein Liebling. Too cute.” With that, he pulled on his shirt, ready to finish work and show you what happens to those who steal and don't admit it.
OLIVER AIKU
Oliver Aiku, a tall, well-built figure with a teasing smirk and hundreds of charms, was leaning against the desk in the bustling precinct. Talking with his partner Sendou, they were deep in conversation about the latest case—nothing too serious, just the usual for the two of them.
The Captain’s voice echoed across the room, pulling him from the moment. "Aiku! You've got a call!"
Oliver rolled his eyes, not exactly thrilled to be disturbed right now in the middle of his break, but he stood up anyway, still chuckling at whatever Sendou had just said about the girl he was trying to woo over. He knew exactly who was calling. A sly smile crept across his face as he picked up the phone.
"Hey, babe. Everything okay?" he said in his usual teasing tone, his eyes never leaving Sendou’s curious gaze.
"Oliver! There's a giant spider on the wall!" Your voice came through the phone and you were more than afraid and before he could even process the words, there was a loud screech from your side of the line. "AH!"
He couldn’t help but smirk. "Girl problems, you know..." he muttered under his breath, shrugging it off, but Sendou was already looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "What? What’s going on?" his partner asked, clearly intrigued by the other’s business like always.
The tall man leaned back against the desk, casually placing the phone on his shoulder. "It’s my girlfriend, you know? She’s having a bit of a crisis over a spider or something. It's all good, no need to panic."
He could hear you, being out of breath, obviously running away from the spider. "Oliver! It’s huge! What do I do?!" He couldn't help but laugh. It wasn’t that he didn’t care—he did, but come on, it was just a spider, you have seen bigger things.
"Doll," he said in a smooth, teasing voice, his grin widening. "Calm down. It's just a tiny lil' spider. I’m sure it’s probably scared of you."
He heard you scream again in the background, and he could already picture you manically pacing around, maybe already booking a plane ticket. “Just grab a slipper or something, take it down like the badass I know you are."
"I’M NOT GOING NEAR IT!" you shouted back, your voice full of distress. Oliver snickered, turning to Sendou, who was still waiting for an answer. "Listen to that. She’s on a whole new level of dramatic. Gotta love her."
He leaned into the phone, his tone turning low and flirtatious. "But, don’t worry, baby, when I get home, I’ll take care of that spider... and you, too."
ITOSHI RIN
It was supposed to be a quiet, ordinary day for one of the top detectives in the department. His desk was a mess of paperwork, and he was deep in the grind—cross-referencing statements, signing reports, and filling out forms. He hated the tedious parts of the job, but he was used to it. Nothing could disturb his focus; nothing but—
Vibration.
He glanced at his phone. Your name flashed on the screen. His first instinct was to ignore it, but a nagging thought held him back. You never called during work unless something was wrong. Still, with a sigh, he answered.
“Is it normal for Mommy to have blood on her stomach? Is my little brother a monster?”
Rin froze. His first reaction was to feel a pang of panic. Blood? His mind raced as he pictured the worst possible scenarios. He knew that voice—your child was watching too many horror movies again, getting himself all worked up.
“Calm down, okay? Where’s your mother?” Rin asked, trying not to sound too angry or demanding with asking questions, he knew how the suspects got away.
“She was in the kitchen and now she has red all over her stomach…” the child explained, sounding more frantic with each passing second.
Rin’s heart skipped a beat as he stood up from his desk, knocking papers to the floor. This can’t be happening, you were in danger and your child sounded more than scared. He needed to be back home immediately. “Stay where you are, do not move,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. Turned to his boss, not waiting for a response. “I need to leave. Now.”
Without waiting for permission, he bolted out the door.
His pulse was racing as he sped home, each second dragging on longer than the last. His thoughts were consumed with worry for you and the baby, a fear deeper than any threat he faced in his career. When he burst through the door and rushed to the kitchen, his breath hitched. He saw you—sleeping on the counter, exhausted, a slight stain of red near your stomach. His eyes widened. Was she hurt?
But there was no blood. No danger. Just the remnants of a cake you had been baking, and the food coloring had created the illusion of blood. You’d passed out from exhaustion, nothing more. Your husband sighed in relief, but he heard a small voice behind him.
“Is Mommy alive?”
Rin turned to find your child, wide-eyed and still nervous. The detective gently shook you awake, his hand soft and careful to avoid disturbing the baby to pop out any minute. You blinked groggily, confusion was written all over your face, but then— “The cake!” you exclaimed, ignoring the love of your life entirely. Of course, your priorities had always been… unique.
"Yeah, the cake," he muttered under his breath, trying to keep a straight face as he helped you sit up, ready to take the blame for your child's next internet ban with the horror media.
SHIDOU RYUSEI
Blasting music in the police car, sirens wailing, Shidou Ryusei chased down some random robbers, caught them, and hauled them to the station. He was a man of contradictions—a protector of the law who lived for thrills. Sure, he’d had a rough past and even served time as a teen, but hey, life’s full of surprises. One thing was certain, though: not everyone could claim you as their wife, his beautiful partner who was currently calling him for the sixth time.
“Pick up the damn phon—” Your annoyed voice hit his ears as he answered. Meanwhile, he was busy munching on candy he’d swiped from the twins earlier. “What’s up, babe?”
“Shidou Ryusei, are you out of your mind?” Uh-oh, here it came. Normally, your calls were filled with anecdotes about your day, theories about the universe, or updates about the twins’ shenanigans. This, however, sounded serious.
“Hello, my beautiful, amazing, angelic wife~” he drawled, mouth still full. He could practically see your angry, adorable expression through the phone.
“I’ll show you what IS amazing... Are you crazy?!”
“Always. Why even ask?” he teased.
“Why did you took the kids from kindergarten, witht he police car while blasting Gangnam style?” Oh, that. Well, you asked him to pick them up since you were running late, “What’s the problem? Elaborate, doll,”
“The problem?” you huffed through the line, voice rising as he heard someone laughing in the background, probably your kids enjoying your reactions as much as your husband did—some genes are pretty strong. “You traumatized every kid at the kindergarten! The teacher called me, Ryusei! The teacher! She said she’s never seen a police escort used so... recklessly!”
He was still chewing the candy he so kindly borrowed, only half-listening. “Reckless? Nah, that’s called style, babe. They’ll remember it forever. They should thank me for making their day cool.”
“Style?!” you screeched, and he almost felt bad. “Blasting Gangnam Style, sirens wailing, and you had the audacity to throw candy out the window like some... cop Santa?!”
Now he did laugh, the sound loud enough to echo around the block. Some of the people nearby on the street gave him curious looks, but he waved them off. “What? It’s called multitasking. Besides, the twins loved it. They told me I’m their hero. How can I say no to my kids, huh? Their words, not mine, by the way.”
You groaned and for a second, he thought you might hang up. “You’re insufferable. Absolutely insufferable. And stop eating the kids’ candy!”
Caught mid-chew, Shidou smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I swear, Ryusei, if you don—”
“Love you, babe!” he interrupted, his tone cheerful. “And the kids love me too. Don’t forget that part. Now, I gotta go, official police business calls. You know, saving the world, keeping our streets cool.”
“Ryusei—!”
Click.
He hung up, a chuckle escaping as he leaned forward, unwrapping another candy. Moments like these reminded him how much he adored you, his firecracker of a wife, and the twins' choice for sweet treats.
©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work
#✧* ꜝ on hiatus#✧* ꜝ blue lock#✧* ꜝ itoshi sae#✧* ꜝ michael kaiser#itoshi rin#oliver aiku#shidou ryusei#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock#x reader#blue lock x you#sae x reader#kaiser x reader#rin x reader#oliver x reader#shidou x reader#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi rin x reader#oliver aiku x reader#michael kaiser x reader#shidou ryusei x reader#blue lock fluff#blue lock season 2#blue lock imagines#blue lock manga#rin itoshi#bllk x female reader#blue lock ani
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#i can and will die on the hill that ned little - the actual lt. little of the show - is as far removed from the sad wet doormat of a man#that fanon likes to portray him as; as humanly possible#the closest correlation between fanon!ned and actual canon!ned is his prolonged misery and level of worry-induced distress#he's more than competent - we see it time and again throughout the first half of the show#but the biggest indication of this is crozier himself handing little his pistol when he goes into self-imposed rehab#HE WOULDN'T DO THAT IF HE DIDN'T THINK EDWARD WAS CAPABLE OF HANDLING THE SITUATION.#crozier's not a man to mince words or spare feelings - if he thought little unequal to the task he would've handed his pistol to fitzjames#instead; but no. he chooses edward precisely bc he knows edward is loyal and steadfast and capable of doing what needs to be done
#edward is the one who falters in that scene; not bc he's too overwhelmed to cope but because he knows exactly what is at stake if#anything goes wrong during crozier's convalescence; the lives of a hundred+ men turning on a dime should crozier not survive his withdrawal#and he's not wrong to feel daunted by the task! it's an immense amount of responsibility -#one crozier himself bowed and buckled under the second leadership of the expedition was thrust upon him! it's a terrifying situation;#but edward still steps up and in the wake of francis's seclusion; for once; things actually go somewhat smoothly!#the men are faring better without the black cloud of crozier's alcoholism and negativity hanging over them like a shroud;#he's gotten fitzjames off his back for the most part; other than for carnivale. and even here we see edward's diligence and commitment#to his position as first lieutenant of the expedition bc he's the one questioning using vital supplies for a party! he's the one#who agrees that the men need the distraction; but worries if they can afford to foot the bill later;#when things will be more difficult! that is the kind of mindset francis himself displays at the beginning#of the show when he's questioning sir john's decision to press forward despite every sign imaginable telling them not to!#EDWARD WORRIES FOR THE MEN THE SAME WAY CROZIER DOES
#what trips him up; what ends up driving a wedge between him and crozier; what causes little to fuck up the armory situation; is this:#crozier himself. bc francis was a mean drunk. and while in his cups he treated little as no better than a ship's boy; running menial errand#and very literally risking life and limb to indulge the vices of a man who treats him with open contempt (and let's be clear; that man isn'#the captain edward has come to know and respect since they set out from greenhithe - no; that is a stranger wearing his captain's face;#making choices that leave edward feeling frustrated and helpless and enraged)#what crozier's belittling of little's station and rank does during this time is make him deeply insecure of his own purpose and competence;via @boogiewoogieweeb
listen i don't think edward little was actually a bad first lieutenant. when we see him in the first episode he's calm and confident. he does not say much but he's amiable enough. crozier likes him, and i don't think crozier would like anyone he doesn't think capable in some way. generally he's dependable and knows what he's doing. however unfortunately for edward he has these qualities because he has a major case of eldest daughter syndrome, which means he both wants to please his mum (crozier) and has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility for his younger siblings (crew), so when they get stuck in the ice and crozier starts going (more) alcoholic, he enables his mum bc he doesn't want to disappoint her even if he doesn't agree with her, and he has to pick up the tasks and care for his siblings she's not doing, but he can't let his siblings know about their mum's situation because they'll get worried and restless. and like a true eldest daughter he has to bear the brunt of mummy's anger for being a disappointment but he also doesn't want to seek refuge with the man she divorced (fitzjames) because that feels like a betrayal. also while this is going on there is a giant bear who hunts his siblings for sport so they're dying left and right and also a changeling master manipulator who's making his siblings mad at their mum and who wants to fuck said mum before eating her like some sort of praying mantis. anyway i think i would start being miserable and anxious too.
#i think you hit the tag limit or something bc your last tag cut off halfway through but THESE TAGS ARE SO IMPORTANT TO ME#it's like i love crozier as much as the next person#but also the way sometimes he's talked abt in fandom as if he's never done anything wrong while HE is for a large part responsible#for the ill will that a considerable part of the crew starts to bear against him and command in general#bc he's a mean drunk who makes bad unjust decisions#hickey should've been flogged. but the exact sentence and the execution of it? an unfairness that everyone on that ship would've felt#and who has to deal with the consequences while crozier is shutting himself off? his lieutenants. and edward first and foremost.#of course crozier has his redemption arc and when he does he becomes the best captain they could've asked for.#but he's lost respect from part of the crew forever already by that point.#and i always question to what extent crozier actually told edward abt his suspicions of a mutiny. bc he vagues abt it to him.#but we never see him lay it out specifically. and idk man. crozier counts on edward's loyalty but sometimes i wonder#if he ever confided in him in full. and if edward felt that. and if that made him feel inadequate to the task before him (i.e. to lead)#especially in crozier's absences when the camp becomes a powder keg.#i keep thinking about that armoury moment bc i remember someone saying that crozier told ned not to act unless the situation changes#or something. and then the fog comes in and the situation changes. and everyone is on edge#and they corner edward and they manipulate him. and i always feel like edward knows very well they're doing that#they're not being particularly non-threatening about it either - he's alone and there's more of them#but also. HE is in that moment responsible for all men in the camp. he has no time to go look for jfj.#they may be lying to him; they may be right and if he doesn't give out the guns men may die#and crozier will come back to his failure to protect the men.#again. it's ned being torn between loyalty to crozier - duty to the men in the most stressful situation ever#irks me that he's called in and treated like a scolded child by three men who were not there?#of course he needs a reprimand bc in the end he made the wrong decision. and he shouldn't have let the mutineers manipulate him#but it's the way they go abt it. the humiliation of it.#need to rewatch to say more abt it but i have a lot of thoughts on the whole situation
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so much
pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara x f!reader
summary: You give Miguel a handjob for the first time.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, handjob, lots of cum (lmk if i forgot anything)
wc: 2.1k
a/n: i blacked out again.
Miguel stopped kissing you maybe fifteen minutes ago. He said he was getting too worked up and that you guys should stop, of course, you respected his wishes. You’re both now sitting in bed, he’s reading and you’re supposed to be doing some extra research but all you can focus on is the bulge in his pants.
This happens a lot, you guys get heated and Miguel stops everything. It’s been six months and you’ve never seen him cum. You’ve told him you love him, he’s made you cum with his fingers and his mouth but you’ve never seen him cum. It doesn’t bother you too much, you just assumed he wasn’t a very sexual person, although you are and you love pleasuring your partner, you love him more. So you decided you could deal with it, but then you noticed that he would get hard, quite hard, and just not let you help him. You’ve offered many times and he always protests, saying “It’s fine, it’ll just go away.”
Once he even went into your bathroom for it. He chose to get himself off instead of just letting you do it. You tried to ask Jess about it but she says that Miguel doesn't talk about that stuff, all she knows is that he’s definitely not a virgin. So your last option to understand is to just ask him. So you do.
“Miggy?” His head comes up from his book to look over at you, peeking over his glasses like a librarian, making you chuckle. “Um… You- You’re—” You start the sentence but soon realize how awkward this conversation could be. You try and figure out ways to piece it together as Miguel sits up straight, closes his book, and takes his glasses off, giving you his full attention. Now that he’s straightened himself out he’s looming over you a bit, making you even more nervous.
“You’re still… hard..?” It comes out as a question more than a statement and mumbles more than words but he understands you. He clears his throat awkwardly as you slowly close your laptop and cast it aside. “Y-yes, I am.” He’s looking around the room now, his eyes avoiding yours.
“Okay. So do you not like handjobs or something? I just- I know that you’ve gotten something before I just don’t- I don’t know why you won’t let me.” You’re looking at him as you speak, he’s looking at the duvet, and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see his dick jump in his pants.
“Cariño… I-” He takes a deep, slightly frustrated breath and looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to explain himself. “I want to… Tan jodidamente mala but… you’re different.”
(“... So fucking bad but…”)
Insecurity spreads through your body at his words. Your mind is already racing, trying to decipher what he could mean.
What the fuck? How am I different? Oh god, is he not even attracted to me sexually? Maybe I’m not his type. Is there something I’m missing? Maybe it’s something that he’s into, maybe I just need to get into whatever that is? Unless it really is just me that’s the problem…
“I love you so much…” The words instantly relax you. You believe him when he says it, but his tone implies that it’s a bad thing. “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. So-” He sighs again and runs his fingers through his hair. “So I’m- I’m more sensitive… when- when it comes to you.”
Arousal pools at the bottom of your stomach as you process his words. ‘More sensitive’
The thought that he hasn’t wanted you to touch him because it would feel too good has you leaking between your legs.
He’s silent as you process, he’s waiting for you to laugh. But when he looks over at you you’re looking up at him with those eyes. The ones that always have him hardening in his pants before you have to say anything. The ones that he pictures on late nights when he can’t sleep. The ones that burn into his eyelids as your name falls from his lips and he cums all over his sheets… Those eyes.
He huffs out a breath and shakes his head, denying you before you can even propose your suggestions. “No, cariño. I- It’s embarrassing.” He protests but his voice is getting breathy, arousal leaking its way in as he watches you seat yourself by his knees, facing him. Your hand is placed on his upper thigh which has begun to twitch under your touch. “We can’t, I can’t. Habría mucho también.”
“Mucho?” You question, only understanding some of what he said. “A lot, what?” You’re focused on his face, watching it contort as he whines at the Spanish that rolls off your tongue. Your hand has begun to massage his thigh, you can feel the fabric pull tighter with every pulse of his cock. Your hand slides up, closing in on where he wants you the most. His head falls back against the headrest as pleasure shoots through him.
You can tell he’s being honest with his reasoning as you watch him. He’s letting out tiny moans, little whines like you’ve been teasing him all day but you’re just massaging his thigh. You keep it up, just groping his twitching leg as he tries to hold his moans in so he can answer you. “C-cum, habría tanto semen.” His hips start thrusting off the bed, barely noticeable.
(“C-cum. there would be so much cum.”)
“Yeah? You’d cum so much for me, Miggy?” You move from your spot, throwing your leg over him, straddling his thighs as you begin to palm his dick. His eyes roll back into his head as moans rip from his throat. He quickly grabs your wrist, roughly, stopping all your movements. His head raises to look at you.
“I’m- I’m a bit… nervous, cariño. It would be a lot for me. I- No one has ever seen me like that. I’m only like this for you, I- can’t help it." His eyebrows furrow, and he huffs at a breath, like he's angry at himself. "I don’t want you to think it’s… extraño, anormal, or that I’m- I don’t know.” You can see the genuine concern on his face, and the fear in his voice as he anxiously rambles.
("... strange, abnormal,")
“Miguel…” He whines at how you say his name, you smile brightly and fondly at the sound. “I love you. In a way I didn’t even know was possible. I’m never going to think you’re- like, weird or something. At least not in a bad way. I-” You sigh gently and look into his eyes, you wrench your hand out of his grip and place it on his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss that he whimpers into. You pull away and give him the most serious look you can manage. “We don’t have to if you’re too nervous but if you’re worried about what I’ll think? Please don’t.”
He holds your gaze, considering your words for a moment. “But there’s mucho, cariño. No importa lo que yo haga. When- whenever I think of you, there’s… so much.” He tries to express his concern but you really don’t understand.
("No matter what I do.")
“Miguel.. That just- That just turns me on even more I- I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.” You speak honestly, watching his face shift into a mix of pleasure and confusion as his head falls back again. His hips press into the air, his legs spread, opening himself up for you as a pathetic “Por favor” falls from his lips.
You spring into action immediately. You pull his pants low enough for his cock to fly out, instantly standing straight, hitting and staining his shirt. A hiss falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around him, and his head comes up to watch you. His eyes are watery as they stare at your little hand around his huge cock. You’re watching him, you don’t move yet, you can see him taking in every detail, committing the scene to memory before meeting your eyes.
“Ready?” You ask him with a devious smile on your face. He nods vigorously, “Sí, estoy... estoy tan lista, cariño. Por favor.”
(“Yes, I'm... I'm so ready, honey. Please.”)
You run your hand up his cock, swirling around the head before meeting the base again. His reaction is instant and extreme. His hands leave your hips for the bed as his claws rip into the sheet. His body is already shaking as tense, short, and quick moans fall from his lips. All his muscles are pulled tight as you slowly run your hand over him. His eyes are wide, staring at your hands as they pleasure him.
You’re mesmerized by his cock, red, hot, and pulsing in your hand as you stroke him. Pre-cum is spilling from his slit at a consistent pace, making him all wet and sloppy. You hear his head hit the headboard again as his moans grow more unrestrained, shouting out into the open air. “I- I-’m not- Can’t” He lets out a frustrated whine that morphs into a genuine moan before he tries to speak again. “No voy a durar. Joder, tus manos son el paraíso, cariño. No voy a durar mucho, no puedo-”
(“I’m not gonna last. Fuck, your hands are heaven, honey. I won't last long, I can't-”)
You can’t understand the words but based on how frantically he says them, the way his hips have started thrusting up into your hand gently and the way his legs are spreading themselves wider underneath you are good clues. “You’re gonna cum, Miggy?” You finally look away from his saturated cock to observe him. His face is flushed, as he nods at you desperately. He tries to moan your name at you but he can’t form the syllables. You love it. Seeing him like this, wet and aching for you. This is definitely going to become a daily thing.
“Yeah? You promised me a lot, hermoso. I want it all. Give it to me, baby.” He fully shouts your name at the Spanish pet name. He grunts pathetically as he lifts his hand from the bed, willing his claws to retract so he can touch you. His hand squeezes your hip desperately, shaking as his moans quickly rise in pitch and volume. Your eyes are focused back on his erratically twitching cock, you don’t see his head lift to look at you.
He’s cumming the moment he can see your face.
You stroke him as fast as you can, listening to his breathy sob as his cock shoots out heavy ropes of cum. He’s watching your face, trying to gauge your reaction through his cloudy eyes. You’re watching his cock in awe, his cum runs over your hand, coating your fist as you jerk him through it. He’s nothing but a bundle of gasps, moans, and sobs as his cock spurts out a whole new load. He watches your face as it morphs from disbelief to burning arousal, your breathing speeds up the longer he cums. He can hear whines start to slip out of you as his hips jerk into your hand. You tear your eyes away from the cum pooling around and coating his cock just in time to see his eyes shift from you to the back of his head. He lets out one last drawn-out wail before his hips rest back on the bed. His cock begins to soften, spurting out tiny ropes as you stroke him softly, helping him down. You try to get the raging fire in your stomach and the flood between your legs under control before getting up for a towel. He was right. There was so much.
You wipe him down as he whines and mumbles deliriously until you hear a little sob and he reaches out for you. You throw the towel to a corner of the room as he pulls you into his chest. He whispers what sounds like thanks and praise into your hair as you kiss his chest.
“Gracias, cariño. Eso- eso se sintió tan bien, te sentiste tan bien. Te amo.” You giggle at him gently. “You’re welcome and I love you too, baby. You know I can’t understand most of what you said, right?” You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle before he speaks again. “I- I know, it's just… El inglés se me hace difícil. Yo olvido. I- I’m” He laughs at himself. “You get my head all mixed up, cariño.”
(“Thank you love. That- that felt so good, you felt so good. I love you.”)
(“English is difficult for me. I forget”)
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Oh really?” You say in a playful tone as he chuckles at you. You turn and pull him in, his lips just inches from yours. “Me encanta eso.” You had to pull all your Spanish I classes together to figure that sentence out but the reward is worth it. Miguel’s eyes widen and he gasps before smashing his face into yours, you can feel his wide smile against your lips as he kisses you and you’ve never felt happier.
(‘I love that.”)
thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!
#miguel o’hara smut#miguel smut#miguel x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#spiderman 2099#miguel ohara#miguel x you#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara spider man#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara#2099#sm 2099#miguel 2099#marvel 2099#miguel o hara#astv miguel#miguel atsv#luvrxfics#luvrxsmut
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Boyfriend
Nothing in this world has ever baffled Aaron Hotchner more than your questionable taste in men. And after witnessing firsthand how shitty your boyfriend was, he made it his night’s mission to steal your mind from him and show you what you’ve been missing all along.
Pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader
Theme: smut heaven
Contents: unprotected rough sex, age gap, dom!aaron, breeding, filming, powerplay: boss/employee relationship, implied cheating.
You were the most sensible member of the BAU as far as Aaron is concerned.
In almost 5 years of working together, he’s never had a problem with you or your work ethic. You’re intelligent and logical, and you never made any rash decision that put yourself or anyone on the team in danger, nor did you ever compromise a case for any reckless, unaccounted reason. Years passed and all the doubts he initially had about you melted into a puddle of respect and adoration. And since then, you never heard him or anyone else contradict your arguments.
In your defense, being the youngest in the FBI gave you the unabating urge to follow orders and protocols as they were, to always play by the book exactly the way you were taught in the Academy. Or maybe because Morgan was right when he teasingly profiled you as someone with people-pleasing tendencies— especially to Hotch and Rossi, given they are higher-ups and had the longest experience in the Bureau.
Nothing was wrong with that, of course. You’re good at what you’re doing. You’re productive; and a valuable member of the team. Slowly over the past years, you’ve gained everyone’s trust and respect. And you’ve been made aware that everyone always has your back…
Unless the topic is your relationships.
“There’s a new Korean barbecue place down the block, do you want to join us?” You stopped midway through arranging your weekly reports as Spencer leaned against your table.
Glancing around the bullpen, you noticed Penelope and Derek standing by Emily’s desk, watching you and Spencer subtly from a distance. You almost snorted when Emily and Penelope scampered to look away, while Derek only crossed his arms and raised one of his eyebrows— like he always does when he’s pissed.
You leaned towards Spencer, whispering. “They know, don’t they?”
“Garcia knows,” He whispered back promptly. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t tell anyone.”
You stared at him suspiciously, eyes squinting a little. It’s just a joke. If there’s anyone in the team that you trust with your little secrets, that’s Spencer. But you’re curious if he knows how Penelope got wind of your secret date tonight. As far as you know, Spencer was the only person who knew about this.
“I don’t judge you...” He replied with a simple shrug. “You know, people who’ve grown attached to unhealthy relationships find it difficult to leave. Given your people-pleasing tendencies, I know you’re holding onto the chance of proving yourself to him. And you’re still waiting for him to realize your worth. It’s sad actually, now that I remember that.”
You gasped in offense and disbelief, making you slap your palm on his shoulder. While Spencer only grinned and chuckled at your reaction.
“Wait till you hear what Morgan has to say.”
You shivered at the thought. Derek has always been protective of you. Ever since you joined the team, he’s claimed that you’re his little sister. Not that it was a problem, of course, you absolutely love having an older brother. It’s just that… you don’t know how to act whenever he’s pissed because you never had a brother in the first place.
As you wandered your gaze to where your friends were standing, a worried frown lidded your expression. Derek hasn’t moved an inch and is pretty much still watching you, obviously seething in annoyance. On his side stood Emily and Penelope, both looking at you with guilty faces.
“He’s going to kill me,” you mumbled to yourself.
Spencer could only snort. “Yeah, right. I wonder why...”
You turned to him in resignation, heaving a deep sigh as you did so. You focused on arranging the folders on your desk before hitting him square on the chest with the documents.
“Enjoy the weekend, Dr. Reid,” You bid him goodnight before walking away.
“What about Korean barbecue?” He called out, raising both his arms in the middle of the office.
You whirled around to face them, still taking small steps backward.
“I’ve got a date!” You announced with a cheeky grin.
The door to Aaron’s office was left open as usual. From your desk earlier, you saw him working on some paperwork due for this week. There was a mountain of it on his table. And you saw him several times leaning on his chair and massaging his temple— not that you’re watching.
“Sir?” You knocked softly on the door surface to get his attention. He was focused on the document he was reading, his eyebrows tugged together in a scowl.
When he heard your voice, though, he glanced up and almost immediately caught your eyes.
“Hey…” He greeted shortly, smiling as he leaned on his swivel chair. “Come in.”
You mirrored his smile as you handed him the documents. “My reports, sir...”
He gave you a brief nod, thanking you promptly after accepting the pile of folders. You stood in front of him for a moment, taking in every bit of his features: his clean-cut hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the light stubble on his jaw— how can someone be that attractive while under stress? Good God.
“Everything okay?”
You blinked in confusion. “Sir?”
“You’re staring,” He pointed out, chuckling. “Are you visiting that Korean barbecue with Reid?”
Your eyes automatically darted to the glass window, seeing that everyone was still waiting for you at Emily’s table. Even JJ was there, listening to Morgan ranting in frustration.
“No, I have a date later…” You admitted shyly, feeling your cheeks heating up.
“Ah…” His eyebrows perked in surprise. “But I heard Garcia wanting you to come with them, do they know about this date?”
You pursed your lips before shaking your head… then nodding.
“They didn’t know— well Reid knew— then Garcia— then now everyone else.”
Aaron nodded slowly, trying to understand your point. “And I assume you don’t want them to know?”
A deep sigh unknowingly escaped your lips.
As much as the team tries not to profile each other, it comes out instinctively. One time after discovering your ex-boyfriend was commenting publicly on other women’s bikini posts, you got so distracted that Emily had to pull you aside to make sure you were alright. Then another time when you came across the secret account he made to continue flirting with other women, you got questioned by Hotch for being so distracted.
They were so adamant in knowing what was bothering you. This is why you always try not to bring your personal issues to work.
“I’m going out with James...”
As soon as those words came out, Aaron looked stunned.
“Come again?”
“James…” You mumbled, your voice nearly cracking in embarrassment. “We’re seeing each other… again…”
It would’ve been better if the floor cracked open and swallowed you alive. The way Aaron was staring at you in disbelief was enough to shrink you in shame. You could even see the disappointment in his eyes, which is way worse than being judged in your opinion.
“The guy who dumped you after knowing you’re earning more than him and thinks women should quit their jobs after marriage?” He asked, scowling.
“Nope, that’s Benedict.”
Aaron heaved a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. The sight was so funny you almost laughed at his face.
“Is James the guy who comments on bikini pictures?”
“That’s Mark, sir…” You smiled awkwardly, scratching your ear. “He… he’s the one with the… video…”
“The one who cheated on you and filmed everything?” His scowl deepened even more. Is that even possible?
“Yes... sir... but he said he changed— okay— time to leave.”
You bolted out of his office. With how his eyes turned sharp as he heard your argument, you knew you just pushed his button.
Now it’s a funny memory, but Aaron Hotchner used to be your dream. Everyone in the BAU knew you spent your first year crushing hard on him. Until a random weekend bar hopping crushed your dream. Truth or Dare. When Morgan dared Aaron to make out with the young lady by the bar counter, you learned Aaron doesn’t like younger girls.
That made you step back. He’d obviously like career women; the mature ones, elegantly gorgeous, maybe with a good figure, curves in the right places, big boobs—
All men are the same. What do you expect, honestly? That’s what your ex-boyfriends like the most. Also their reason for cheating on you. You’re not their type, and you shouldn’t act too surprised because you knew that in the first place. Or that they have needs to fulfill. Apparently, you lack both.
“Hey, you okay?” The warmth of Aaron’s palm pulled you out of your reverie. You turned to him fast, blinking in confusion.
“Y-yes, sir. Were you saying something?”
He pursed his lips a little, nodding towards the view outside the car window.
“We’ve been here for five minutes.”
“Oh…” Heat crept on your cheeks after taking a peek, realizing you’ve already arrived in your apartment building. “Right. I’m sorry, sir. I was just thinking.”
“Of that dumbfuck asshole?”
You chuckled awkwardly, baffled by his sudden choice of words. He’s never the type who curses out of nowhere. “Sir?”
“He made you wait for three fucking hours,” He retorted, his voice calm— dangerously so. “The one you call ‘boyfriend.’”
“He is my boyfriend…”
He stared at you, unamused. “After everything he did?”
“Well…”
At least you know everyone was right: Derek, Penelope, Emily… Aaron. Maybe you’re a hopeless case. For someone decently smart, you’re a complete idiot. You should’ve seen this coming; these men will never change. There’s no way a smart woman would allow this to happen again.
The worst part is that you couldn’t even call your friends to pick you up after getting ditched. You just missed the last train, you couldn’t book a cab, and they’re all hanging out in a Korean restaurant— except Aaron. Which led him to bring you home instead.
“What? You'd still defend him?”
After a few lingering moments of just staring at each other, you decided to offer him a small smile instead of answering. You thanked him for the ride, bid him a good night, and told him to spend his weekend resting. With a sweet yet polite smile, you stepped out of his car.
But Aaron got out before you could even walk away, following you inside the building.
“I swear, I’m fine. You should go home, Aaron,” you insisted, trying to keep your voice steady.
Aaron walked in, trailing behind you, his presence and smell immediately filling your small apartment. You closed the door behind him and turned to find him standing in the middle of your living room, his gaze sweeping over the space before settling back on you.
“I’ll rest when I know you’re okay,” He gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Nice apartment.”
“Thanks…” You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Can I get you...?”
Your words died in your throat as you found yourself staring into the concerned eyes of Aaron Hotchner. He stood there, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression stoic and something you couldn’t quite place.
“You know, I never understood your preference,” He began cautiously, his eyes directed at you. “You never made good decisions with guys, don’t you?”
“I know that, Aaron.”
“They’re all idiots. Does that turn you on?”
“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart racing as the words sank in.
“Does being treated like trash turns you on?”
A warm tear licked your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, feeling embarrassed and hurt by his words. Aaron didn’t move an inch but the way his eyes traveled along your face melted his irritation a little. Silently, he reached out and pulled you into an embrace, his arms solid and warm around your figure.
“Fucking hell…” He mumbled against your hair. “I try so fucking hard to be good to you and you let those schoolboys make you cry?”
You buried your face in his chest. “You’re the one making me cry right now.”
“It’s because I’m right.”
“I don’t need your lecture, Aaron Hotchner.”
You pulled back slightly to look at him. Your gaze collided, and you saw something shift in his eyes. The worried frown was still there, but there was something else— something more intense, subtly primal.
“If you’re expecting an apology then you’re wrong.” The muscle on his jaw ticked before he leaned toward your ear. “You know I can treat you so much better. I’d never make you wait and let someone else take you home. I can spend the entire night proving that to you.”
Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters and his reaction. But then you felt him respond, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, deepening the kiss.
You melted into him, the warmth of his body and the firmness of his touch causing intrinsic need to erupt at the pit of your stomach. The kiss grew messier, wetter, and uncoordinated. His hands found the crest of your breast, caressing you through your shirt with gentle yet possessive strokes.
He broke the kiss, his breath ragged. “Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.
You nodded immediately, your own breath coming in short gasps. “I do, god, yes…”
You shivered at his touch, pressing your body closer to him. You found yourself unbuttoning your dress shirt, eagerly so, making Aaron smirk as his eyes followed your clumsy movements.
Once undone, you quickly threw your shirt on the ground. A satisfied glint flashed in Aaron’s eyes before he captured your lips again. This time, more urgent. You felt his arms snaking down your body.
“Should’ve known you’re a dirty slut...” A low chuckle rambled in his throat, his lips leaving soft kisses on your jaw. “Did you wear this red lingerie all day? Were you expecting that schoolboy to fuck you tonight, sweetheart?”
“Y-yes…” You moaned.
“Yes what, slut? You’re wearing this all day or that you wanted him to fuck you tonight?” He asked mockingly. “Tell me, baby, have you ever been fucked by a real man?”
“Aaron, please—” You let out a gasp, feeling your cunt getting wetter every second you spent untouched. “The left door– need you– please—”
“How greedy.”
Effortlessly, he perched you on his muscular arms, carrying you straight to the bedroom. All while you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his hair, your heart pounding with lust and anticipation.
He dropped you on the bed, his eyes dark with need. He took a moment to scan you, his gaze sweeping over your body with reverence.
“Take that pants off now. I want to see everything.”
The coldness of his voice sent tingles to your wet cunt. You quickly scrambled to your knees, your trembling hands stiffly finding their way to the button of your slacks. The thin fabric slid down your legs, exposing more of your body. You feel so exposed, all for his eyes.
“Fuck...” He breathed, palming his hard cock through his pants. “I always imagined how you’d look naked. You have no idea how much restraint it took me not to touch you every time we shared a room.”
A coil in your stomach tightened as he loosened his tie, carelessly tossing it on the ground. Now he’s left with his work shirt and pants, and the contrast of your nakedness alone excites you even more.
He stepped closer to the edge of the bed, his pointer finger tilting your chin upward. Just enough for you to meet his eyes.
“Didn’t you say you have a boyfriend, sweetheart?” His lips trailed from your lips to your cheek, slowly, teasingly down to your jaw.
You whimpered. “Hmm… yeah…”
“Care to remind me what that boy did to you?” He taunted, his voice menacingly low.
The warmth of his big, calloused hands explored the softness of your bare skin. You moaned softly, feeling his thumb and pointer finger rubbing one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.
“He-” You swallowed thickly, clamping your thighs shut. “H-he cheated on me…”
Aaron hummed mockingly, tutting. “And you still want him here right now?”
“No…” You said quickly, blinking dazedly at him. “Want you, Aaron.”
“Is that how you talk to your boss, sweetheart?” He leaned backward, withdrawing his hand from touching you, one of his thick eyebrows raised in question. “For a cheating slut, I’d say you’re quite demanding.”
“Y-you, sir. Want you, please... please, fuck me, sir.”
You ignored the wetness pooling in between your thighs. His eyes were dark and piercing as he took your nakedness in, while you stared back innocently. You reached for his pants, resting your palm on his clothed pelvis.
“I’m sorry, sir,” You said in a whisper, quietly unbuckling his belt as you did so. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone.”
“You better keep your promise, little girl.”
You gave him a sweet smile, Aaron’s chest rose and fell with every breath. His gaze was fixed on your fingers as they fumbled on his belt. The air hummed with anticipation, mirroring the pounding of your heart against your ribs.
As the belt slid free, Aaron’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. Leaning in, he inserted two of his fingers into your mouth. And you suck diligently, wetting his fingers thoroughly, staring at him all while your hands blindly unzipped his pants. After a few tries, you finally tugged down his pants and underwear, making him hiss quietly.
“Aaron...”
“Yes, sweetheart?” He rasped, frowning at you in concern. “Do you want to stop?”
“Can we… can we film this?”
He glanced at the ceiling, chuckling in disbelief. You watched how his throat bobbed with every swallow, and you squeezed your thighs for some friction. God, you’re so wet.
“And who would you show that, baby?” He asked curiously, pumping his cock in slow motion as he waited for your answer. “Eyes up here, sweetheart. Do you want to show your boyfriend how much of slut you are for an older man’s cock? Is that what you want?”
“Y-yes, sir…”
And that’s how you found yourself on your knees, naked, with Aaron’s big cock deep in your throat, staring up at his phone. Aaron was sitting on the edge of the bed, filming everything.
“What a dirty slut, you like that?” He asked hoarsely, tugging you away from his cock. You gasped loudly, feeling Aaron’s precum and your saliva dripping at the corner of your mouth.
“Thank you, sir...” you smiled breathlessly, closing your eyes as he slapped his veiny cock on your cheek and lip, spreading the wetness across your face.
“Fuck, look at you. You’re so cockdrunk...” He mused, laughing to himself, making sure he was capturing everything on the video. “How does it feel to cheat with your boss, sweetheart?”
“G-good…” You gulped thickly. “Should’ve d-done this soon, sir…” You mumbled in a daze, opening your mouth to take him again but he firmly tapped your cheek to stop you from doing so.
“Lay down and open those pretty legs for me.”
The room smelled like sweat and sex, wrapping you both in the heat of the moment. Soft moans and whispers filled the air, bouncing at the four corners of the room.
You closed your eyes in embarrassment and lay quietly in the middle of the bed, following Aaron’s order. In your past relationships, nothing was ever like this. It was always quick, sometimes even one-sided. You’ve never felt confident with your body, and it’s not like you had too many experiences to learn and grow your confidence from.
“I said open your legs, slut. Are you dumb?” Aaron slapped your thigh using his free hand, the one not holding the phone. “Show me how wet that pussy is.”
You shut your legs even more, shaking your head lightly.
“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’re shy...” He tutted, feining pity. “Open those legs right now or I’m leaving. Maybe you can call your little boyfriend to take care of you.”
You quickly shook your head, a whimper caught in your throat. You open your legs a little while your hands still covered your wet, glistening cunt. Aaron frowned at the sight, obviously displeased by your slow, unsure actions.
“Don’t test me, little girl.”
With an impatient sigh, he separated your thighs using his vacant hand. A shiver ran down your spine as the cold air hit your wetness. You watched in silence as Aaron focused his phone on your dripping cunt, running the pad of his middle finger up your clit down to your wet slit.
“You’re so wet, sweetheart. Who’s this for, hm?” He taunted, waiting for your answer.
Your toes curled in anticipation, mumbling. “Yours, sir…”
“Louder, slut. I’m trying to fucking record, remember?”
The world around you melted away as he pressed his middle finger inside your wet cunt. You felt feverish, growing even more desperate as he slowly moved his finger. Your breathing became ragged and heavy as you slowly felt the rhythm.
“Aaron… oh god…” You rasped breathlessly, both your hands reaching for his wrist as he added another finger. “That feels so g-good, sir…”
“Yeah?” He mocked, his teeth sank on his bottom lip as he watched his fingers assault your pussy through the screen of his phone. “Good girl, baby, look at you taking my fingers well.”
“I’m c-close, sir—” Your voice trembled with the intensity of your upcoming orgasm. “Sir, ple—”
“Come for me, sweetheart.”
That’s all it took for your resolution to crumble. Your orgasm racked through you with so much force, your back arching, your lips opened to a silent scream. You never came that hard before. And good God, what have you been missing all along? Aaron watched you with half-lidded eyes, his chest warm with lust and adoration.
“You’re gorgeous, baby.”
You hummed mindlessly, still coming down from your high.
“Need you now, Aaron... Please…” You croaked, throat dry. “Need your cock inside.”
“Say that to the camera, slut.”
You propped yourself a little, immediately facing the phone he was holding. “Need your big cock inside me, sir. Please, fuck me…”
The raw desperation in your voice made him smile. “Ride me then, sweetheart.”
You wasted no time and scrambled to your knees. Aaron deftly took his position and laid on his back. You licked your lips as you stared at his huge cock resting on his stomach. You just know that he’d be big… you just never thought you would see it firsthand. He’s thick and long, with veins decorating it.
Heat crept on your cheeks as you climbed on his lap and sat on his thick cock, grinding your wet pussy and moaning as you felt him pulsate beneath you. You focused your eyes on the camera that was still focused on you, your hands moving to your breasts as you continued grinding on him.
Aaron leaned forward a little and groped one of your tits, slapping it lightly with a breathy sigh.
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
Your blush deepened. “Condom, sir?”
“Up to you, sweetheart. I’m not active.”
“I’m on birth control…”
Smiling, you took his cock and ground the tip against your wet pussy, letting out a staggering breath as you sank in slow motion. The thickness of his big cock stretched you like never before. You’ve never taken something as big as this. You bit your lower lip as you felt the slight burn of the stretch, focusing on how Aaron’s chest rose in heavy breaths.
“You’re so warm, baby…” Aaron moaned quietly. “Good girl. Fuck, you feel so good. Go on, sweetheart.”
It didn’t take long for your movement to become desperate. You started bouncing up and down with vigor, chasing both of your highs. Aaron’s big cock reached spots inside your body you never knew existed, his neatly trimmed pubes tickling your sensitive clit. Your moans grew louder and louder as he kept hitting the spongy spot inside you.
“Oh god, sir…” You moaned pathetically, bouncing on his cock in pure desperation. “Ruin me with your cock, Aaron… you feel so good.”
“You’re so tight and warm, sweetheart.” You frowned at him in confusion when he handed you his phone. “Continue filming while I fuck you.”
You accepted his phone and focused the camera on him. His rough hands found your hips. Without warning, he started pistoling his hips, ramming his big cock in and out of your trembling body. You felt the burn of every drag of his cock and you’re not even sure if you’re still capturing something on your video.
“I’m coming, baby…” He said breathlessly. “I’ll fill you with my cum, is that what you want?”
You helped him chase his orgasm by meeting his hard thrusts. “Yes, yes- sir, yes, fill me with your c-cum.”
“Can your boyfriend do this, sweetheart?”
“No, sir, no–” You shook your head frantically, tears stinging your eyes. “O-only you.”
“Damn right, slut. I’m the only one who can do this to you.”
You’re not sure of whatever response left your mouth. You’re a babbling, mindless mess. A cockslut who can only think of Aaron’s big dick ruining you in the nastiest way possible. You can feel your peak nearing, making you whimper in ferality.
“I’ll fill you over and over—” His thick fingers tightened around your waist, leaving red, angry marks on your wake. “Until that’s the only thing you can think about.”
A shrill scream escaped your lips on a particularly hard thrust, feeling Aaron’s big cock pulsate inside you. After a few seconds, warm ropes of cum filled your womb. You shuddered at the feeling, clamping your thighs as they trembled excruciatingly. You didn’t even notice that you already let go of Aaron’s phone, completely forgotten on the cushion.
“F-fuck… Aaron—” You moaned in relief, craning your neck to the ceiling. Flashing lights sparkled even on your closed eyes.
His wet lips trailed on your sweaty neck, his teeth sinking in, leaving fresh sets of marks. “I can be a better boyfriend than him, sweetheart. You know that, right?”
You hummed shakily but you didn’t say anything. The way you’ve gone nonverbal filled Aaron with so much pride.
His hands found your waist again, making you whine as his cock slid out of you. Effortless, he thew you back on the bed, now on all fours. The new position felt primal, and exposing. You quickly felt the tip of Aaron’s hard cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt, fucking in the trail of cum leaking out of your used pussy.
“I can do this all night, sweetheart. You won’t even think about him.”
I’d love to interact with everybody! And I sure do appreciate any thoughts or reactions. Don’t forget to drink your water and keep slaying, babes!
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner smut#criminal minds smut#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner x you
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STILL IN LOVE! #7 — TOJI FUSHIGURO
SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…
INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
Toji stood in the empty living room, the light illuminating from the television as it played some random show that you were watching before he came. It’s been so long since the last time he was here, at least that’s what it felt like. Nothing really changed for the most part, still the same decor, the layout still the same. He couldn’t help but notice the set of fresh roses that sat on your dining room table, paired with a detailed glass vase. He already had his guesses on who gave them to you.
Toji looked over his shoulder towards the corridor that led to the bedrooms, you were still busy helping Naya wash up. He walked over to the table, fingertips gently touching the delicate petals. There was still regret and jealously that bubbled in Toji’s chest. When it came to you, he was selfish, never thought in a million years he’d lose you once he had you. That was his problem. With each longing look at the roses, it reminded him of when he did have you, the beginning of things. He used to buy you flowers just for the hell of it, buy you small trinkets he knew you’d like, addicted to your smile when he’d handed them to you. But like almost everything in this world, things fall apart.
Those moments turned into him coming home while you were in the kitchen, eating dinner with Naya and Megumi, not even glancing your way. Not a word to you or his kids all because of an argument you had before he left for work that morning. Of course he regrets it all now, when it’s too late for something to be done and said. It’s cliche, but it was true.
His eyes flickered towards the small card by the roses, his jaw clenched as he grabbed it, slowly opening it to read:
Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman — Kento
“Hey.” The sound of your voice snapped Toji out of his thoughts, quickly placing the card down and facing you. “The kids are, uh, asleep.” You nodded.
“Should we talk here or?” Toji cleared his throat, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.
“Bedroom should be fine.” As you walked down the corridor, Toji followed behind you. There was still that picture of you and the kids on the wall, the one that he took when you all went to the water park. It was a bittersweet moment, but he’s glad that you still had it up despite the memory that came with it.
He shut the bedroom door behind him as you stood in the middle of the room. “So, you wanted to talk about the kids and us?”
“Yeah, I just want us to find a level placement where we can co-parent healthily. You know…where we don’t fight and argue every time we talk to each other,” you explained with a slight chuckle. “I just want better communication. Like if you can’t or can take the kids, if you’ll be going to their school events or something.” You fiddled with your hands.
Toji stared at you even while you avoided eye content with him. He took notice you how you played with your hands too, something you always did when you were anxious, thinking about things. He could tell something else was on your mind. Something else was on his mind too.
“What I’m saying is, I just think we should strictly keep communication minimal. Just about our kids. What we do with our personal lives should be kept private unless it involves Naya and Megs somehow.” You inhaled, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.
Toji’s brows furrowed at your statement. “Isn’t that what we have been doing?” He questioned, leaning against your wall.
“Despite what you might think, no. And to be honest, I know that you know that not what we’ve doing, Toji,” you scoff.
“If this is about what’s been going on the last few months, I apologize,” he spoke.
“It’s,” you sigh, “it’s more than that. Ever since the divorce, we never acted divorced.”
“You mean how we were still sleeping together,” he bluntly said.
You rolled your eyes at how honest he was, but you should know by now that he was no different from when you first met him. “Yes,” you answered.
“We haven’t slept together in months—”
“And about the unresolved feelings that we still hold for each other. That needs to stop. All of it,” You interrupt.
Toji was at a loss for words, staring at you, and finally for the first time in this conversation, you locked eyes with him. “You’re really taking this guy seriously, huh?”
You sigh, plopping down on the edge of your bed. “He’s a good guy, Toji.”
“I never said he wasn’t.” He shrugged, standing up straight.
“Okay, but you’re acting weird about it. Why can’t you accept that I’ve moved on? You should do the same.” You stood upright. “Me and you,” you gestured between you and Toji, “it won’t work out.”
Toji knew in the back of his head that you were right, but to hear those words out loud felt like a knife to the heart. Both of you stood in silence. All kinds of thoughts were running through his head, every single of them screaming at him to say something, to try and get you to change your mind. He doesn’t want to argue or fight, not anymore, so he holds his thoughts and feelings back even if it does hurt.
Say something. Don’t. Say it. Just keep quiet. Tell her.
“I’ve tried to move on just so you know. I’ve really tried, y/n.” And there it goes. There goes the words spilling out of his mouth despite what may come next. He just needs you to hear him just this one last time. He doesn’t care if it doesn’t change a thing between you two, he needs you to know regardless. “Trying to get with different woman, having sex, drinking, pretending to be who I was before I met you. But where did I end up each time? Right back to you, right back in your bed, in your home, holding you, kissing you, regretting everything bad I’ve ever done to you, to our kids.”
“Toji—”
“We were together for 10 years, married for 8 . As soon as you told me you were pregnant with Megs, I knew right then I wanted to make you my wife, to build a bigger family with you, to do right by you and our kids. I can’t just throw all that away, all those memories. Even the bad ones. You changed me, made me want to be better. No other woman has done that but you.” Toji walked closer towards you. It felt like your feet were glued to the floor, incapable of moving.
“Then why did you treat me that way?” Your voice slightly broke as you held back tears. “Like you were beginning to hate me, to hate us.” The thought made you clench your eyes shut as a frown formed on your lips. You hated to remember. Your should began to shake as a sob racked through your body. “You don’t understand how that made me feel,” you whimpered.
Toji looked at you with soft eyes. “I never hated you or the kids, not a fucking second. That thought would never even cross my mind. Hate the woman who brought me the most beautiful thing life can bring you? Hate them? Even though they can be a pain in the ass,” he chuckled. You laughed along with him, nodding in agreement. “Look at me, mama.” Toji lifted your chin, wiping the tears off of your cheeks. “I can never hate you or our kids. Tell me that you understand that.”
“I understand.” You sniffled.
“I know the way I started treating you and our family towards the end is what caused everything to fall apart. I don’t know why I did what I did. Arguing with you over stupid shit, acting like a fucking asshole, not being there when I should’ve. You had every right to leave. It’s my own fault that I didn’t realize what I had before it was gone. I’ll live with that for the rest of my life. You’re an amazing woman, a beautiful person, a wonderful mother. You were everything I could ever ask for. I’m sorry for making you feel like you were any less than that.” He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly while you cried into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
For the first time in years, you and Toji had a conversation without it turning into a heated argument. It was like a huge weight lifted off of your shoulders, like you could finally take a deep breath of fresh air. Toji just held you while you cried it out, rubbing your back gently. Though it hurts, he’s glad he was able to tell you, to apologize. “Mama, you deserve to move on and be happy. It’ll hurt like hell for me, but that’s what I deserve for what I did. My karma. I’ll level with you, I’ll do what you want.”
You pulled away from him, teary eyes staring up into his. “You mean it?”
Without hesitation he replied, “of course.” If it wasn’t painfully obvious already, Toji was still in love with you. How could he not be? He’ll miss you, miss the times you spent together. He wishes he could make up for all those bad times, replace those memories with good ones.
“Thank you, Toji.” You softly smiled.
“Dont thank me. It’s the least I could do.” He held onto your hand, his warm touch lingering on your skin before he pulled it away. “I’ll see you around, y/n.” Before he said anything else, he needed to walk away. Opening your bedroom door, he disappeared from your sight down the hall. You bit down on your bottom lip, brows furrowed as you sat there and began to process everything that happened.
Toji sat in his car outside your house. “Fuck,” he sighed. It should be him. You and him. He should be buying you flowers, kissing your soft lips, holding you tight, making love to you, telling you he loves you. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as looked at your front door. In front of him, a familiar car pulled into your driveway. Toji sat and watched closely, noticing it was the man he caught a glimpse of in your house, your new boyfriend, Kento. As he walked up the steps, you opened the door for him before he knocked, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his lips with a smile. His hands were on your waist as he kissed you back, pulling you closer towards him.
Toji tore his eyes away from the sight in front of him, jaw clenched as he started his car. You were his karma and the woman he was in love with.
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sukuna
[Chapter 1] Offerings
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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
*Just want to preface that this is a historical AU but there will be some historical inaccuracies so if you see something odd, don't point it out. Also this is still a curse AU! if that isn't clear with four-armed Sukuna. Anyway I hope you enjoy!! Any general story warnings can be found in the masterlist!
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Sukuna is missing something, he’s not sure what it is but he knows that he’s bored. He’s bored of everything that once thrilled him, tired of the same routine. But no matter what he does, he feels empty.
He’s done everything possible to soothe that boredom, which has come to the expense of many lives. It entertained him until it didn’t. Occasionally he does find joy in the horrors that he causes but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough anymore. There’s something that he’s missing, but he’s not quite sure what it is.
He has everything a man could possibly want– Although he isn’t exactly a man so his wants and needs are obviously different. He isn’t going to be fulfilled by the foolish ideals of happiness that men have. He doesn’t have much of a guide though, therefore he’s lost in how to fix his problem.
“Uraume.” Sukuna’s voice isn’t all that loud, yet Uraume nearly comes running to fulfill his request. The temple is uncomfortably quiet; everyone is ready to fulfill Sukuna’s every request, and their king does not raise his voice unless adrenaline rushes through him, or he’s upset. No one knows which is the worst of the two.
“My king.” Uraume kneels down before him. He’s quiet, too embarrassed to even bring up this question. It’s unlike him. Uraume is truly the only person that he respects which is why asking the question is hard for him to actually say. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with it though.
“What do men usually do?” He asks, which is odd for Uraume to hear. Sukuna was a man too, once upon a time. But he doesn’t remember that stage of his life, and he’s sure he wasn’t happy either which is the reason why he’s the monster he is now.
“I’m not sure.” They sound reluctant. “If you could be more clear, I can search for an answer.”
“Get out.” He orders, and they bow again before exiting the room. He wants to be left alone to gather his thoughts. He has all the time in the world to figure himself out, but he wants even more time. He doesn’t want to be bothered now of all times at the very least.
“There’s a woman with an offering.” A servant tells him from the other side of the tatami doors, followed by a shrill cry that makes a smirk come to his lips. That’s his answer.
Sukuna wants a successor.
“Take it to the servants, answer to her needs.” Sukuna answers, not really caring to listen to any requests. His mind is now preoccupied, detailing his next course of action. He needs to find the perfect woman to carry his heir, which he knows will be a hard task– Perhaps the hardest challenge that Sukuna has come by in all of his years of living.
“Please eat, Haru.” You put the bowl beside the young boy’s mat. You’ve been slowly watching your brother’s health deteriorate, slowly watching his death near. Worst of all, you have been looking for a cure that seems impossible to find because it’s not something that’s affecting anyone important.
It’s not a disease that’s affecting anybody else, really. It’s not infectious, you quickly found that out. You were glad about it at first, but then you realized that there’s no cure yet. Days pass by, and he gets worse. He refuses to eat anything, and when he does, he can’t keep it down for more than a few hours. His death is imminent.
“I did everything I could to get the right ingredients for your favorite food. Auntie made it extra special for you.” You make sure to tell him, but he can barely move. You kneel down beside him, grabbing his utensils and preparing a bite. “Just one bite, Haru.”
“I’m sleepy.” Is all he manages to mutter, and you feel a pull on your heartstrings. Your hand caresses his arm.
“Just one bite, okay? Then you can sleep all day.” You try your best to convince him. All he does is sleep, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he wakes up tired. He prompts himself up, and you’re fighting back a smile– It’s barely any progress, if you can even call it that. “Open up.”
There’s a smile on your lips as you bring the food to his mouth, and he begins to chew. He takes the utensils from your hand, grabbing the bowl of food and putting it on his lap. You stand up and tell him, “I’ll get you some water.”
“He’s finally eating something.” You share with your aunt, making sure your voice is low since there isn’t all that much space. Her eyes go to him, and she really wants to say that it’s a sign of him getting better but it really doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes he eats everything that’s made for him, but he throws it back up.
“I really wish this meant he was getting better… But we both know that he’ll get worse tomorrow.” She responds, and you want to curse her for even mentioning it but you know she’s right. You don’t like hearing it though, you’re helpless. There’s nothing more you can do for Haru, you’re just waiting for the day to come.
“I really think he can get better.” Your eyes begin to feel with tears, knowing that you don’t even believe yourself. You’ve tried everything you possibly can, but you know that his time nears. You can’t just accept that fact though, he’s your baby brother, you can’t let him go. “Let me get his water.”
“I’ll get it… Think about what the medic said.” Your aunt reminds you of the visit from the physician. One that you’ve forgotten because you refuse to consider his one and only suggestion a possibility. The words flow back to your head,
“Your best bet is the deity up north. You have to bring him an offering, and if he deems it worthy enough, he will cure him.” “But if he thinks it’s beneath him, he’ll kill you.”
You don’t want to risk anything, but lately that seems like your only option. He’s not getting any better, even though you so badly want to say that he is. Throwing up everything he eats is not much improvement than not eating at all. You just have to figure out what is considered an offering worthy for the deity to save him, and to save yourself.
“I’ll be back, I have to figure something out.” You say, smiling back at your aunt and your little brother. They barely acknowledge you before you leave the house, which you’re thankful for. You just need a moment to gather your thoughts, decide what you’ll do next.
You need to sort out your offering for the deity, an offering that will hopefully sort out all of your problems.
“My king, there’s a woman with an offering.” It feels like the hundredth time that week in which Sukuna hears that sentence. Humans are greedy beings, and they all fucking need something. It’s unnecessary, purely materialistic– It’s a side of humanity that he appreciates though. How much a human is willing to sacrifice for wealth or the promise of good fortune. Sukuna can’t judge, he's the sole winner in the end.
“Let her in.” He says, and the tatami door slides open. A poor maiden with a pale yellow kimono, and a woven basket in hand. You walk in with your head down, following the strict instructions that were given to you.
You’re trembling as you kneel down in front of the deity, bowing down to him. You remain bowing for however long he pleases, keeping your eyes shut because there’s tears building up. You have never been this terrified. Willingly putting yourself at death’s door is no easy feat.
“Rise.” He orders, and you straighten your upper body, remaining on your knees. You don’t dare look anywhere past his feet, keeping your eyes low and steady. You know that he’s staring you down, studying you. A smirk on his lips, thinking about how he’s found her. “What do you want?”
“My brother…” Your voice is shaky, and you try your best to compose yourself. You can’t start crying in the middle of it, you’ve gotten this far, he’ll surely kill you if you begin to sob at his feet. “He’s sick. The medic can’t cure him, and he told us you were our only choice.”
He’s not really listening. Something about a brother is all he grasped. He’s more into the way your lips move, and the tears of pure fear that well up in your eyes. He can tell that you really made an effort into your look today, even though you don’t look extravagant. Which for some reason he likes, he doesn’t want an arrogant woman in his chambers, he already has enough of them. He especially doesn’t want one of them carrying his heir.
What really draws him in is that certain look in your eyes. The clear innocence that’s written all over your face. You’re the perfect lily that he can’t wait to tear apart, petal by petal. That finalizes his decision.
“What do you have for me? Open the basket.” He orders, and you do as he says. Regret washes over you as you open it, immediately knowing that it’s not enough. You don’t know what came over you when you had the bright idea of picking it. You unfold the cloth with shaky hands, revealing the gift for him. He’s usually furious with these types of gifts, since they hold no value to him but he wants to hear your reasoning since he has other plans with you, “Why do you come to me with this?”
“Pomegranates aren’t native to the land, and they’re scarce this time of season. I found some while searching for an offering and thought it was a sign.” You explain, and he scoffs. A stupid reason, one that should get you killed. If he wanted fruit, he would send Uraume to get it for him. He guesses it’s creative though, especially when almost every person that walks through the temple is willing to sacrifice a life. But you don’t gain points for creativity, no one ever has.
“Pomegranates? What am I supposed to do with that?” He’s mocking you, and you swallow the lump in your throat. He’s right, what is he supposed to do with a pomegranate? He’s not like you, he’s not just going to eat it. You’re usually smart about this type of thing, but you guess desperation got the best of you this time around, and now you have to pay for the consequences. As to be expected, there’s no answer from you, and he orders, “Look up at me.”
Your eyes slowly move up his body to his face, and you’re in awe at the sight. A mix of emotions flow through your body. He really isn’t a human. You were terrified earlier, but now you’re simply astonished. You never really believed the tales that were told about him since you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that a being like him could exist. But now he stands before you.
“Do you really think I’ll do anything with the fruit?” His voice sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. You shake your head which irks him. “You have a voice don’t you? Use it.”
“No, my king. My apologies.” It’s strange, but you sound more confident as you look at him compared to before. It brings some sort of satisfaction to Sukuna since usually people that are allowed to look directly at him can barely communicate.
“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” He’s thinking about how merciful he is– Which isn’t entirely a lie since Sukuna never gives a second chance. Except you have no idea how you can redeem yourself unless he dismisses you. Little do you know what he’s thinking for you. “I have a proposal for you.”
“A what…?” Your eyebrows perk up as curiosity takes over you. A proposal from a deity, it’ll surely be something that you have yet to hear.
“Bear my child, and I’ll forgive you.” He says, and you almost fall back. Your ears must be deceiving you, there’s no way that the proposal that you just heard is real. Your eyes are wide open, and you hear him laugh. It must be a joke then.
“Uraume!” Sukuna yells, wanting it to be clear that he doesn’t want to waste a single second. Not even a second later, and they’re in the room, waiting for their king’s command. “Take the maiden and prepare her for me tonight.”
“Wait– You’re serious?” You dare to ask. You haven’t even agreed, yet he’s getting you ready for tonight, to have a baby with him of all things. “You don’t even know my name, why would you want me to carry your baby?”
“What’s your name then?” He asks, clearly irritated by the question, and you have no choice but to answer. If you don’t, you’re screwed. “There we have it. Take her, Uraume.”
“Wait!” You shout, but Sukuna isn’t going to listen to more of it. Uraume guides you outside, a task that they usually do harsher. At any other time, they’d be dragging you outside but you’re not just anybody.
You’re the woman that will carry King Sukuna’s heir.
#[bonds of fruition]#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna jjk#sukuna x you#sukuna jujutsu kaisen
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