#why yes I am very predictable
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spicyraeman · 9 months ago
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ehehehe
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genderfluid-druid · 2 years ago
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Rules: List Five Comfort Characters And Tag Five People.
Tagged by @organchordsandlightning
ok well jack reflected on the definition of a comfort character for hers. I, however, am simply going to preface this by saying my therapist recently told me i was doing so well we could go down to once every three months. So, there.
1. John Doe (Malevolent): I am starting out cheating a little bit because fandom John is far more the source of comfort than canon John, but the grip he has on me is simply too powerful not to put him on this list. He’s a stranger to the world, he’s trying his best, he doesn’t know what a wheelchair is, he keeps fucking up but he cares so goddamn much.
2. Jonny D'ville (The Mechanisms): He's an asshole but he can spin one hell of a yarn and I will always listen. Plus, "Old King Cole" from Once Upon A Time In Space was the first song I sang along to after my voice changed, so there's a lot of gender euphoria in the mix.
3. Ignis Scientia (FFXV): Speaking of gender euphoria, Ignis was the first character I cosplayed after realizing I was nonbinary. (It's not that I had never dressed up as a male character before, it's just that somehow that had never tipped me off.) Anyway, I have spent a lot of hours on the contouring and scar makeup to channel my beloved nerdy British twink.
4. Faramir (Lord of the Rings): like do i need to say more here or--
5. Sibling Dex (A Psalm for the Wild-Built): so first of all this book is a big warm hug that will quite literally hand you a mug of tea and ask what's on your mind and tell you, "would you like to imagine a world of small comforts?" But the thing I love about Dex specifically is that, in a near-utopian world that has chosen to elevate compassion and recognize the dignity of all sentient life, Dex is still managing to have an existential crisis. And I love that for them.
Zero-pressure tags: @neosatsuma @redriyo @still-bettingonyou @rossithepixie @morphophoneme
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butcharyastark · 2 years ago
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ppl putting posts on my dash stressing marriage and also dissing qprs and polyam ppl during it: shut the fuck up
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sainns · 6 months ago
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LIKE OR LIKE LIKE.
𝓢. ㅤㅤthis is the the first time you've ever gotten drunk and of course you go and confess to your best friend.
SJYㅤ✶ ㅤ (⠀femreader⠀) . . . best friends to lovers (kind of, they don't explicitly start dating), fluff, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk, not proofread.ㅤ1428 words
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“i’ve never seen her drunk before,” sunghoon points to where you’re leaning against the wall.
jake turns to look at you, watching as you talk to chaewon. you’re continously taking sips of your drink, a sleepy smile on your face as you listen to your friend’s (most likely) drunk ramblings. he can tell you’re tipsy, at the very least; your body is swaying, it seems like you’re having a hard time staying upright.
“yeah.. i’m gonna go lay her down before it gets worse. i don’t want her to wake up sick,”
sunghoon gives jake a knowing look, shrugging as he takes a sip of his own drink, “predictable,”
“what?”
“nothing,”
sunghoon grins, patting jake on the head before walking away to—jake assumes—bother his girlfriend. the older boy shakes his head, running a hand through his already messy hair, turning around once more to watch you.
this is the first time you’ve ever gotten drunk, he thinks. you’ve mentioned before that it’s because you’re scared of how you’ll act, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of them. he’s glad that you’re more comfortable now, and at least you’re only here with them, your friends, and not at some party full of strangers and weirdos.
he watches as chaewon pats your back, albeit a little forcefully, before she leaves to find someone new to bother. he also watches you attempt to follow her but give up halfway through your first step. he smiles to himself, heading over to where you’re standing—or leaning.
“oookay, no more for you. you can’t even stand straight, dude,” jake takes the red solo cup away and out of your reach, giving you an amused smile. you pout but you don’t put up a fight—you can’t, not fully anyways. if you could, though, you would tell him that he’s being dramatic; six shots and half a cup of jungle juice is hardly anything.
“c’mon, you can go lay down in my room, you look tired,”
“okay,”
you make a move to walk by yourself but jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your waist so that he can guide you away from your friends. it feels like your senses are heightened to a dangerous level because why do you get goosebumps the moment he touches you? you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your heart to calm down.
somehow you make it to his bedroom without stumbling a whole lot (this is 100% thanks to jake; you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to do it yourself), and he taps your side, signaling for you to sit down on his bed, which you do.
he kneels down and pulls your shoes off, setting them on the floor. he pats your thigh, leaving yet another wake of goosebumps on your skin, “stay here, ‘kay? i’m gonna go get you some water,”
“i don’t want any,” you whine, “i’m tired, not thirsty,”
“yeah, well, you’ll be thirsty in a little bit,”
“no, i won’t,”
“yes, you will. you’re drunk,”
you huff, throwing yourself back on the bed, “am not. also you’re so annoying. i don’t want water, i always drink water,”
jake snorts at your antics, tucking his head away as he tries to keep from laughing too loudly. after a few seconds, he calms down and looks back at your figure, smiling fondly. you can’t see him, your eyes closed as you hum some random song that he hasn’t heard since he was ten years old.
you look so serene, he doesn’t want to disturb you. he figures he can just tell sunghoon or someone to come bring some water or he can wait for you to fall asleep.
“i’m sad,” you huff, sitting up slowly.
“why are you sad, hm?” he rests his head against your knee.
you frown at him. his words felt slightly condescending. not that you really cared, in fact it kind of made you feel dizzy. wow, he’s just terrible. looking at you all worried, taking care of you while you’re (not) drunk.
“because of you,”
he sits up at that. he looks like a dog who heard the word ‘snack’ or something. of course, he wasn’t happy. he looked more worried than before, in fact.
“me? what’d i do?”
“you’re just annoying,” you whine, “you know, i like you and it’s kinda funny ‘cause i’m, like, so obvious about it,”
“you like me? like like me?”
“well, actually, i love you,” you pause, “you’re not very smart, now that i think about it. how’d you even graduate? did you cheat? i think everyone knows but you. this is so awful, i can’t believe i had to go and like someone so oblivious. you’re lucky everything else cancels that out,”
“wait, wait, wait. you love me? that’s..” jake asks, his face flushed, completely disregarding everything you said after your confession, “yn, you’re.. you know, you’re drunk,”
“oh, okay,” you push his head away, “look, i’ll tell you tomorrow, ‘cos i really mean it and you’re so annoying and it’s, like, oh my god,” you say something else after that but he can’t tell what. not with you speaking as fast as humanly possible paired with drunken slurring.
he nods slowly, processing your words, “yeah.. okay. you can’t forget, alright?”
you grin, poking his cheek, “duh, i have an amazing memory,”
your amazing memory may be your downfall. surely, you had drank enough to wake up the next morning with zero memory. isn’t that what usually happens when someone gets so drunk they tell their best friend that they like them? not even like, you said you loved him.
and now you’re laying in his bed, face pressed into his pillow, absolutely mortified at your past self’s actions.
you’re never going to speak to him again. you’re going to get up, put your shoes on, and sneak out. yeah, it’ll seem like you’re doing the walk of shame, god forbid anyone catches you, but that’d be less embarrassing than having to talk to jake.
you don’t get the chance to attempt to escape, though, because jake walks in right as you’re weighing your options.
“hey, are you awake? it’s two in the afternoon,” you hear him place a glass on the nightstand as he sits next to you.
you could pretend that you forgot.
you feel his hand rubbing your back, “i heard you groaning, get up,”
“i don’t want to,” you mumble into the pillow, pressing your face into it harder.
“i can’t hear you, you know,”
you groan loudly, picking your head up, “i don’t want to get up,”
“why? are you embarrassed?”
“i didn’t do anything embarrassing,” yes you did.
he nods, “nah, you didn’t. i was just checking, you get embarrassed easily,”
you’re quiet for a moment after that. his hand is still rubbing your back and you can feel your heat beating against your chest. you want to pretend that you forgot about last night but for some reason you can’t. you want to bring it up despite feeling nauseous at the thought of being rejected.
“i like you,”
he smiles, “yesterday you said you love me,”
you gape at him and he laughs loudly. you want to kill both him and yourself.
“i’m sorry—i’m kidding.. i like you too,” he hums, tilting his head, “no, actually, i love you,”
you frown, “you’re embarrassing me,”
he laughs again which makes you want to both laugh and hide away from him, ��god, you’re so cute. i kinda wanna kiss you, is that okay?”
you almost say yes before you remember that you just woke up not even twenty minutes ago and you are not going to kiss him with bad breath. especially not when you were drinking the night before.
“i just woke up,”
he leans forward, close enough that you can just barely lift your head and you’ll be able to kiss him, “so?”
“no,” it pains you to do so but you turn your head away from him. you know he won’t kiss you if you don’t want him to but you’d probably fold and kiss him if he kept staring at you like that, “you can.. uh, later. after i brush my teeth,”
he turns you over onto your back, smiling above you brightly. you gasp at the sudden movement, your heart racing yet again (you should go to the hospital), “promise? i really wanna kiss you right now,”
you laugh, reaching your hand up to move his hair out of his face, “yeah, i promise. i really wanna kiss you too.”
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cleo-fox · 9 months ago
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Daylight
Summary: Despite your best efforts, Sunday morning doesn’t go as planned…and you couldn’t be happier about it.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, shower sex, fingering, vaginal sex, soft sex, sex that causes you to be several hours late for work, Loki being a (respectful) horn dog.
Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this yet, but the first fic is here). A/N: This started out as a scene in Overtime that kind of took on a life of its own. You don't necessarily need to read Overtime in order to enjoy or understand this fic, but you'll have more context if you do. Anyway, it was fun revisiting these two idiots--I've got a few more ideas for them up my sleeve, so there will be more in this series at some point.
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The sunlight wakes you the next morning.
It’s the same sunlight as always, but it looks different coming through Loki’s window and streaming across his bed. It looks better, you think, splashed across his sheets.
Or maybe it’s the addition of your hand clasped with his resting on those same sheets. Or perhaps it’s the sight of your clothes and his, discarded on the bedroom floor in a pool of sunlight, combined with the fact that you’re still wrapped in his arms. Maybe all of that is why it seems better.
That seems more likely.
You lie still for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of his arms and the heat of his skin against your bare back. You are reasonably certain he’s asleep from the steady rhythm of his breath on your neck, but you’re not about to disturb the sleepy calm of the morning to confirm that. 
The clock on his bedside table says it’s just after six. Before last night, you would have said that this was a reasonable time to get up—early enough to ensure that you’re in the office by eight, which would hopefully give you enough time to meet this evening’s deadline, but not so early that it makes you question your life and your choices.
But that was before. Now…well. You suddenly find that your priorities look very different from the comfort of Loki’s bed.
You decide that you didn’t really see the clock. Neither one of you thought to set an alarm last night. Sleeping in was inevitable. That’s not your fault. No harm, no foul.
You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into a light doze, warmed by the sunlight and Loki’s embrace.
Sometime later, you’re woken by the soft brush of a kiss against your neck.
“Did you sleep well?” he murmurs against your neck.
“Yes, though I did have a bit of a late night,” you say. “Someone kept me up.”
“Really? That was rude of him.”
“Very.”
He’s noticeably—achingly—hard. His lips brush against your neck again. “Perhaps he might make it up to you?”
Your intention is to open your eyes, roll over, and allow yourself to be ravished. But in a development you can only describe as tragic, you happen to catch sight of the clock on his nightstand.
7:38 am.
“Shit,” you say. “It’s almost eight.”
Loki is predictably unconcerned about this. “We don’t have any official hours to keep,” he says, his hand skimming along your ribs and down the curve of your waist. “We have all day.”
“Yeah, but we’ve got a ton more to do,” you say, trying to ignore how good he is at kissing your neck or how his hand is drifting down your hip toward the aching pulse between your legs. “We really need every minute.”
“That is true,” he says solemnly. “Perhaps we ought shower together to save time.”
You can’t help but smile. “I kind of feel like you have another agenda.”
“I’d never,” he says.
“The raging hard on pressing against my ass would suggest otherwise.”
You can almost hear him smirk as he gives his hips a teasing little thrust against you. “I contain multitudes.”
You wiggle out of his embrace and slip out of bed. You intend to look back and give him a coquettish look and say something sharp and teasing, but instead, the sight of him takes your breath away. He leans back on his elbows, looking everything like the sort of lounging god you would see depicted in marble at the Parthenon, all chiseled, sharp muscles and clean lines. His cock stands fully erect and deliciously thick, flushed with wanting.
“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t reject the offer,” he says, seemingly fully aware of the path of your gaze. His hand drops to his cock and he strokes himself casually, which very nearly sends your sprinting back to bed.
“You’re right,” you say, trying to keep your cool as you throw him your most beguiling look. “So you should probably hurry up.”
You turn and start walking toward the master bathroom. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he’s following you, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of skin, eyes dark with purpose.
You walk into the master bathroom and are immediately confronted by several flagrant violations of the residential handbook. The TVA is many things, but it is not the sort of place that deviates from set floor plans, nor is it the sort of place that deviates from those plans to install a rainfall shower and soaking tub—in marble, no less.
You think of the stark, vaguely institutional aesthetic in your own master bath and you can’t decide if you’re annoyed at his rule breaking or jealous that he could get away with it.
“I’m not even going to ask if you got approval for this setup because I know you didn’t,” you say as you reach in to the shower to turn on the tap.
“Do you think of anything other than that cursed personnel manual?” he asks as he comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and his lips again finding your neck as he draws you to him.
“First of all, it’s not the personnel manual, it’s the residential handbook, which you specifically agreed to abide by when you signed off on your lease.”
He turns you around so you face him and draws you close, a wicked gleam in his eye, “Oh, I’m going to make you forget all about those ridiculous rules.”
“That’s a pretty tall order—oh.”
His hand is slipping between your legs, stroking your already slick folds.
“I think I’m quite capable of inspiring other passions,” he says, rolling his fingers in a broad circle over the hood of your clit
You loop your arms around his shoulders. You can already feel your knees starting to tremble, but you know he won’t let you fall.
“Bold claim,” you say, “I’m going to need more evidence.”
“Oh, you’re going to get a lot of evidence,” he says softly. He curls a finger inside of you, pressing his thumb against the hood of your clit. “You will have no doubts by the time I’m done presenting my argument. You will be weak-kneed with evidence.”
You shudder as he rocks his hand slowly. He’s touching you enough to stoke the flames of desire, making your hips rock helplessly toward his hand as you try to create that extra friction and pressure that you know will send you flying over the edge. But Loki is meticulous—perhaps even ruthless—about not giving in. 
“Not yet,” he murmurs softly when your latest attempt is thwarted. “Slowly.”
Your pleas become louder and more frequent, but his answer remains the same: slowly. You whimper and beg, but he is resolute.
Steam has fogged up the mirrors and is curling around you when your orgasm finally begins to crest. You suddenly find yourself grateful for his pacing as the intensity builds to a level that makes your knees shake.
“That’s it,” he breathes as you tremble in his arms. “You can come for me now, lovely.”
Like magic, the coil inside you snaps at his command and you cry out as your cunt shudders around his slowly thrusting fingers. Your arms looped around his shoulders are the only thing keeping you standing.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as you sag against him. “Beautiful.”
He gives you a moment to get your bearings before leading you into the shower. He sits down on the marble bench, spreading his thighs wide and pulling you into his lap so you straddle his hips. The spray of the water hits your back as he kisses you again, slow and hungry.
You love everything about this. The heat of the water on your back. The closeness. The way his thighs are spread wide. How his cock presses against your bare cunt. The noise he makes low in his throat when you start rubbing yourself against him.
“Need you,” he mumbles against your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and you reach between the two of you to line his cock up at your entrance.
It occurs to you that you could take the opportunity to tease him, to make him beg for you, but pretending that you have any control over your aching need for him is several degrees beyond impossible. So instead, you slowly ease yourself down onto his cock while he groans against your neck, dragging his lips down to the curve of your shoulder.
The feeling of him inside you is still so new that it feels just a little unreal. After all that wanting and yearning and thinking that he was too handsome, too divine, too out of reach to have, he’s suddenly yours and it’s absolutely dizzying. 
You pause for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of unyielding fullness, of connection. Of him.
“All right?” he asks softly.
You open your eyes and his look of sweet concern makes your heart swell. “Yeah,” you say, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “I just—I needed a moment. You feel—” You pause for a moment, searching for the right words, sifting through the effusive and flowery and the things that are true but too early to say. “You just feel really good,” you say.
It sounds wildly inadequate, but he seems to understand, to hear all of the unsaid parts that you’re keeping close to your heart. He could turn away, say it’s too much too soon, that you haven’t even said what you are yet, much less committed to anything serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward, drawing you into a slow kiss, his hands framing your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw with the kind of reverence that makes you want to say everything you feel.
“You’re perfect.” He says it in between breaths, with such a disarming sincerity that you can’t bring yourself to try and deflect, to name a flaw or even make a joke.
Later, he will tell you that he was struggling with a similar battle, trying to reconcile how new this was with the depth of feeling that was already blossoming in his chest. He will tell you later that he couldn’t believe you were his, just as you couldn’t believe he was yours, that there was something about you that felt right in a way that made him feel like he knew even then.
But right now, he simply kisses you with a fervor that makes your toes curl and your hips start to move.
It’s only the second time that you’ve done this, but there’s a strange blend of both the new and the familiar. The shape and feel of his body pressed against yours is new, but the way that he moves, the way that he touches you is as though he’s loved you for centuries.
The rhythm you fall into is slow, despite the excuse that this shower was to save time. His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit to add another layer of bliss to the feeling of his cock inside you. Despite your slow pace, your ascent rushes in fast and brilliant as a comet blazing through the night sky. Your back arches, almost as though you’re presenting yourself as an offering to him as you come undone in his arms. Loki watches you with a kind of breathless wonder, brow furrowing in pleasure, his lower lip caught between his teeth at the tight clench of your cunt around his cock.
Your legs are rubbery with pleasure, but you keep going because you need his release as much as your own. You need to feel him empty himself inside of you, to hear the low groan he makes as he unravels, to see the way his eyes flutter shut. You want crescent moon marks on your hips from where his hands gripped you too tightly in that final ascent, physical proof that you can make not just a god forget himself, but Loki specifically. Loki with all his masks and tricks and artful poise; Loki laid bare below you, free from all artifice and glibness, raw and real and just as he is. All the parts of him that make you think that down this path lies something wonderful (not that you’re ready to call it love. Yet).
But Loki is nothing if not predictably unpredictable and he seems determined to make you work before granting you that little glimpse at the heaven that is the god of mischief coming undone beneath you.
“Let me feel you come again,” he murmurs as soon as you catch your breath.
“Is once not enough?” you say, trying and failing to sound cool and calm, like you’re not completely wrecked for him.
“Hardly.” His eyes flash in a way that makes you shiver as he urges your hips into a faster rhythm. “I am not so easily satisfied when my need has been so great.”
You can feel the coil in your hips beginning to tighten again.
“I’ve burned for you for years, my love,” he says, his voice going a little shaky. “Would you deny water to a man dying of thirst?”
You shake your head, your words lost to the oncoming wave of your undoing.
“Then do not deny me your pleasure, I am desperate for you.” He’s panting, barely holding on to his composure. “Now come for me again, let me feel you.”
You are so far gone that it only takes a few more strokes to make you come undone and the first shudder of your climax takes Loki with you.
You savor his pleasure more than your own release, memorizing the sound he makes, the way his lips form a silent plea in the shape of your name until he slides a hand up your neck and pulls you down to kiss him.
His kiss is fierce and hungry at first, but it ebbs to something slower and sweeter as he empties himself into you. He sighs as you tangle your fingers in the wet tendrils of his hair.
It’s a long moment later when you finally break the kiss, resting your forehead against his.
“I don’t think we saved any time,” you say.
He doesn’t even open his eyes. “I cannot overemphasize how much I do not care about being late in these circumstances.”
You grin. “Not even a little?”
He kisses you sweetly on the mouth before opening his eyes, his lips curling into a slow and satisfied smile. “I would be late every day for the rest of my life for just a few seconds of that.”
His words spark something warm in your chest and you try to hide it with a wry look. “I’m not sure that you’re getting the better end of the deal.”
He kisses you softly. “You don’t know how good you feel.”
“You’re one to talk,” you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he deepens the kiss.
The warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of him smiling as he kisses you is a kind of luxury you’ve never imagined. It takes you a while to untangle yourselves, but you can’t find it in yourself to move any faster.
The actual showering part of your shower is slow and unhurried and you find that Loki’s hands are equally gifted at these mundane tasks. His fingers have a knack for finding every stubborn knot in your neck and shoulders, which he explores leisurely under the pretext of washing your back. The press of his fingers unwinds the tension in your shoulders, loosening up muscles that have been too tense for too long.
“You are way too good at this,” you say.
“Just one of my many talents,” he says, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “Though perhaps I ought to stop—I wouldn’t want to make you late.”
“I’m so relaxed I’m going to ignore that little bit of sass.”
He chuckles against your shoulder. “You’ll forgive me.”
“We’ll see.”
The sweet, almost chaste kisses he’s been pressing against your neck and shoulders are gradually growing slower, more insistent. When you feel the tip of his tongue draw a quick, teasing line on your neck, you know that you might be in trouble.
His hands slide to your waist, drawing you close enough that you can feel that he’s hard again. 
“I’m sensing some ulterior motives,” you say.
“A bold accusation,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing himself more firmly against you.
“We can’t have sex again,” you laugh.
“Mmm, we could,” he says in between kisses. “There’s nothing stopping us from having sex again.”
“We are already running late—”
“I thought I was very clear about my feelings on timeliness in these circumstances.” He nips at your earlobe and you shiver. “And would you really deprive me of the utter bliss of coming undone inside you?”
“It’s more like rescheduling than depriving you of anything.”
“I’ve waited so long, darling.”
“We just had sex like…less than an hour ago,” you say through a laugh.
“Ah, but the days before that were so terribly long,” he says.
You turn to face him, thinking this will make things easier for you. This turns out to be a grave miscalculation because now you have to contend with the fire in his eyes and the twin flame that it summons low in your hips.
Fuck. 
You are definitely going to have sex again.
His eyes glitter like he knows and he slowly walks you backwards until you’re pressed between him and the shower wall.
“You are absolutely incorrigible,” you say as he peppers your neck with slow, decadent kisses. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
“Funnily enough, I don’t think you’ll be complaining about my mouth in about thirty seconds.”
And with a wicked and hungry grin, he slowly sinks to his knees.
It’s 10:48am when you finally walk into the office.
Even though you are now several hours later than you intended and the stack of files is no less imposing, you feel nothing but a pleasant glow of happiness as you take your seat. Loki sits down in the chair next to you and this time, he sneaks his foot underneath your desk and hooks his ankle under yours.
He catches your eye and smiles. “I can be a little more obvious now.”
You put on your most exaggerated expression of mock seriousness. “Only a little. This is a workplace, after all.”
He adopts a similar expression and nods. “Of course. I imagine there will be paperwork as well.”
“There actually is a form we’ll need to file with HR,” you say.
Loki frowns. “Wait, you’re not being serious about that, are you?”
“Yep. We’ll need to file it by next Friday.”
He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “Is there anything that this place hasn’t managed to weigh down with the burden of unnecessary bureaucracy?”
“I see we’re in a good mood this morning.” Mobius has arrived, cup of coffee in hand. He nods at Loki and looks at you. “How long has he been raging against the machine?”
“Not terribly long,” you say as Loki rolls his eyes.
“It’s not raging against anything,” he says. “I just fail to see the point of some of this organization’s operational practices.”
Mobius raises an eyebrow at you. “You told him he has to fill out a form, huh?”
“Got it in one,” you say as Loki scowls.
Mobius chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. “You should hear him during performance evaluation season. I get entire monologues. It’s like Hamlet meets HR.”
Loki’s scowl deepens and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order not to laugh.
“It looks like you made good progress, though,” says Mobius, looking at your completed stacks of files. “I took a look at what you pulled earlier this morning and there’s some good stuff.”
“Oh, good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think much of the fact that neither one of you was in the office earlier this morning. “What time do you think you’ll need the rest done?”
“Right, about that,” says Mobius. You steel yourself for bad news. “I took a look at what you pulled so far and I think I’ve got what I need.”
You blink at him. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah, you’re off the hook,” he says. “Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
You look at Loki, who looks just as pleasantly surprised as you feel.
“In fact, you can take the rest of the week off,” says Mobius. “Triple overtime, right? You earned the time.” 
“This feels like a trick,” says Loki. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” says Mobius. “You did good work.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “However—”
“And there’s the catch,” says Loki.
“There’s no catch,” says Mobius. He gestures at you with his coffee cup. “I’m just going to need you both to turn in the relevant paperwork to HR by next Friday.”
Loki sighs, though you can tell he’s fighting a smile. “There’s absolutely no privacy here.”
Mobius raises his eyebrows. “You’re playing footsie under the desk. It’s not exactly rocket science.”
You look at Loki and shrug. “He’s got a point.”
“You’re taking his side?”
You roll your eyes and stand up. “Well, you can sulk about it if you’d like, but I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my weekend.” You share a sly, secret smile with Mobius. “I’ll see you next week, Mobius.”
It takes Loki approximately twenty seconds to catch up with you.
“And you say I’m incorrigible,” he says as he falls into step beside you.
You smile at him. “I think you’ll get over it.”
“I’ll consider it.” He catches your band, fingers twining with yours. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”
“Hadn’t decided,” you say, biting back a smile. “Did you have any suggestions?”
“Well, I’d like to start by going back to bed.”
“To sleep?” you tease. 
“Eventually.” He licks his lips. “And since our respective schedules have been cleared for the week, we’ll be able to take our time.”
The hunger in his eyes is still so new and intoxicating that you can’t help the shiver that works its way up your spine.
You give him a slow smile. “Lead the way.”
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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago
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hey, how do you cope with people saying we only have a small amount of time left to stop the worst effects of climate change? no matter how hopeful and ok i am, that always sends me back into a spiral :(
A few different ways
1. The biggest one is that I do math. Because renewable energy is growing exponentially
Up until basically 2021 to now, all of the climate change models were based on the idea that our ability to handle climate change will grow linearly. But that's wrong: it's growing exponentially, most of all in the green energy sector. And we're finally starting to see proof of this - and that it's going to keep going.
And many types of climate change mitigation serve as multipliers for other types. Like building a big combo in a video game.
Change has been rapidly accelerating and I genuinely believe that it's going to happen much faster than anyone is currently predicting
2. A lot of the most exciting and groundbreaking things happening around climate change are happening in developing nations, so they're not on most people's radars.
But they will expand, as developing nations are widely undergoing a massive boom in infrastructure, development, and quality of life - and as they collaborate and communicate with each other in doing so
3. Every country, state, city, province, town, nonprofit, community, and movement is basically its own test case
We're going to figure out the best ways to handle things in a remarkably quick amount of time, because everyone is trying out solutions at once. Instead of doing 100 different studies on solutions in order, we get try out 100 (more like 10,000) different versions of different solutions simultaneously, and then figure out which ones worked best and why. The spread of solutions becomes infinitely faster, especially as more and more of the world gets access to the internet and other key infrastructure
4. There's a very real chance that many of the impacts of climate change will be reversible
Yeah, you read that right.
Will it take a while? Yes. But we're mostly talking a few decades to a few centuries, which is NOTHING in geological history terms.
We have more proof than ever of just how resilient nature is. Major rivers are being restored from dried up or dead to thriving ecosystems in under a decade. Life bounces back so fast when we let it.
I know there's a lot of skepticism about carbon capture and carbon removal. That's reasonable, some of those projects are definitely bs (mostly the ones run by gas companies, involving carbon credits, and/or trying to pump CO2 thousands of feet underground)
But there's very real potential for carbon removal through restoring ecosystems and regenerative agriculture
The research into carbon removal has also just exploded in the past three years, so there are almost certainly more and better technologies to come
There's also some promising developments in industrial carbon removal, especially this process of harvesting atmospheric CO2 and other air pollution to make baking soda and other industrially useful chemicals
As we take carbon out of the air in larger amounts, less heat will be trapped in the atmosphere
If less heat is trapped in the atmosphere, then the planet will start to cool down
If the planet starts to cool down, a lot of things will stabilize again. And they'll probably start to stabilize pretty quickly
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caffeinewitchcraft · 6 months ago
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Cinderella Doesn't Believe in Fairytales (pt 10)
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3). (Part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9)
Summary: There are many sorts of meetings. Meetings you dread and meetings you anticipate. Baron Ramsey is overdue for both.
“I did not expect you to return so soon,” the Queen says. Her coal-like eyes flick over the Baron, cataloguing every inch of him. Did she see the dust clinging to his trousers, evidence of his haste to arrive? Did she see the tightness in his jaw at her welcome? Did she see the new bead of sweat rolling down his cheek? “Another week at the earliest.”
“I—” The Baron has to summon moisture to his mouth to speak. He swallows. “I was already within our borders when your message found me. Of course, I had no choice but to return.”
The Queen’s expression doesn’t change, but her aura does. She leans back in her throne and watches him through half-lidded eyes. “Why is it you think I called for you, Baron David Ramsey?”
To torment me, he thinks and doesn’t say. He wishes he would have listened to his wife all those years ago. She told him they must go unnoticed. He thought he had rid himself of his arrogance when he married her, but he was wrong. It had been arrogant of him to not heed her warning.
“There is a new type of dye in the southern islands,” he says. He spreads his hands wide. “If I had known your majesty had already heard of it, I would not have delayed in finding a sample. I hope you will understand. I was returning home after so many years abroad.”
The Queen never admits to not knowing. Her expression flickers. “Yes, the new dye…I am interested in it.”
A wave of relief rocks through him. This is familiar territory. Every request for a new product she gives him is another handful of months he can keep her attention away from his home and the secrets he has kept hidden there for 19 years. “It would be my privilege to acquire some products using this new dye for you, your majesty. I have made a promise to the Baroness to return home this month however, so there will be a delay—”
“Returning home to an empty house?”
The Baron blinks. “Pardon?” Then her words register and a surge of sick fear makes him sway on the spot. What has she done? He swallows twice before he can speak. “N-no, to my daughter – my daughters. To the Baroness.”
The Queen studies him. The Baron desperately tries to hold himself still. The Queen always speaks vaguely. He is hearing a threat where none exists. The Queen’s domain may extend past his manor, but her magic doesn’t. She doesn’t know, she can’t know. She is testing him. Should he have denied knowing that the higher nobility of this land were, in fact, the Unseelie Court?
Sweat rolls down his temple and he feels the Queen’s eyes track its progress.
“Then rejoice,” the Queen says at last. Her nails trace the arm of her throne. “Your journey is at an end. Your family is in the Capital.”
“Wha—” What?! The Baron bites his tongue so hard blood wells. The pain does little to clear the panic from his mind. “I—I was not aware.”
“I can see that,” the Queen says. The sharp edge in her gaze softens. Calculation crosses her face briefly and settles into an unsettling amusement. She smiles. “Yes, that makes sense. You wouldn’t have been home to receive the invitation. There is a ball, Baron David Ramsey. All eligible ladies of the kingdom are in the Capital for it, of course. Your…daughters included.”
A ball? It’s been three decades since the Queen last a held a ball, perhaps longer. Why now? His wife told him that the Unseelie Court was confined to the very core of their territory after the last great war. She predicted that their power would not be enough to free them for another hundred years. So why a ball? Why invite the human nobles across the land to come into the heart of the territory before they were recovered? Why—
The Prince. These are politics the Baron knows. The Prince has come of age this year. This isn’t an ordinary ball. The Royal Line must continue regardless of the powers they may or may not have recovered. A Prince needs a Princess.
The Unseelie Court is hunting for new blood.
“Then I suppose,” the Baron says faintly, “that I am not going home quite yet after all.” The unease the Queen voicing his name evokes fades next to the sick fear roiling in the Baron’s stomach. “By your leave, of course.”
“Nothing would make me happier than having your attendance at the ball tonight,” the Queen purrs. She extends a hand and an invitation appears in the air between them. She crooks her finger and it drifts into the Baron’s chest. “I guarantee that this will be a  surprise reunion that no one will want to miss.”
The Baron’s clammy hand presses the invitation over his heart. Is it his imagination or can he feel oily tendrils seep from it and into his heart? Is the air colder? Without thinking, the Baron says, “Thank you for your consideration, your majesty.”
A wave of weakness washes over him as soon as his thanks leaves his lips. He staggers and his vision wavers. The Queen’s nostrils flare as she breathes in deeply, eyes fluttering shut. Does the King laugh behind his hand? Or does he cough?
His wife’s voice echoes in his mind. Never thank the fae. Never apologize. And especially never give thanks nor apology to the Unseelie.
“Don’t thank me yet, Baron,” the Queen says. When she opens her eyes they gleam with an unearthly purple. Black stains her mouth when she smiles. “Tonight. Thank me tonight.”
The order slips around his neck like a noose. The invitation throbs like a second heart. “Yes, my Queen,” the Baron whispers.
---------.
Cinderella watches the colors of the sunset catch in the crystals embroidered on her dress, red and pink and gold against the eggshell blue of the silk. Helga’s hands are gentle as she weaves Cinderella’s hair into an intricate knot.
“There,” Helga says. There’s a faint press of lips on top of Cinderella’s head, the move so effortlessly affectionate that Cinderella’s heart sings. Helga gently lifts Cinderella’s chin. “Take a look. We can change anything you don’t like.”
This afternoon with Helga has been magical. Cinderella doesn’t remember the last time she felt so at ease with another person besides the Prince. They talked and laughed and commiserated over her friend’s lack of communication, about nature, about what type of jam goes best on what type of bread, about everything and anything. Good food and good company has healed something deep inside of Cinderella, another crack sealing tight and holding. She can’t imagine not liking something that Helga has done for her.
She is still surprised when she sees herself in the mirror.
Last night’s gold jewelry highlighted Cinderella’s hair and the deep green of the dress. She remembers feeling beautiful and elegant and so, so confident.
Tonight is—well, it’s everything Cinderella feels.
It’s as if Helga listened to Cinderella’s recounting of the previous night and manifested every hope and every joyful memory  into what Cinderella sees before her. She feels like she’s glowing. Rather than focus on her hair this dress throws her light eyes into brilliant focus. She blinks quickly. She didn’t realize she had her mother’s eyes until this moment.
Her jewelry is still dainty, but it all shines as brightly as the crystals dotted like flowers through the skirts of her dress. A single teardrop pendant hangs from a silver chain around her neck and diamond earrings reflect firelight as the castle lights the sconces around her room. Silver thread holds Cinderella’s hairstyle in place.
“I’m the sky,” Cinderella says breathlessly.
“And more,” Helga promises. There’s a knock on the door. Helga meets Cinderella’s eyes through the mirror and she smiles. “Your carriage has arrived, my lady.”
Cinderella’s heart leaps as she rises. The Prince is here. Her friend. Suddenly she feels…not insecure, not quite. There is a fluttering in her stomach as Helga goes to the door, a breathless anticipation that makes her feel weightless. She finds herself following Helga to the door, stopping a few feet behind her when the older woman opens it.
Oh, Cinderella thinks as, unerringly, the Prince’s eyes meet hers. The Prince is draped in a deep, night-sky blue, the same crystals on Cinderella’s dress sewn in clusters on his jacket. His black hair is swept away from his face and a thin, silver wire twines around one ear like a vine.
“You’re early,” Helga chastises the Prince.
The Prince jolts as if he didn’t notice Helga at all. “I thought it best if we had dinner before—”
“We match,” Cinderella says.
Helga jumps, spinning on one foot with her hand presses over her heart. “Oh! I didn’t hear you come up behind me...”
“Why,” the Prince says and pretends shock as he looks down at his outfit. “I think we do.”
Cinderella fights against a smile. “You knew I would choose the blue dress.”
“I had an inkling.”
Cinderella slides around Helga, barely noticing as the older woman wordlessly gives way. She takes the Prince’s arm when he offers it. “You said dinner?”
“That I did.”
Cinderella is full on bread and jam and juice. “I’d like that.”
“You could have sent a note,” Helga mutters. But she drapes a buttery-soft shawl around Cinderella’s shoulders to protect her against the evening chill and does not protest when the Prince leads her from Emerald Castle and into the gardens rather than to the carriage.
The gardens are a different world at night, especially seen from the ground rather than the window of her guest room. Small, wrought iron torches mark their path past the flower beds and towards the hedge maze.
“If you get us lost and we wind up being late again, I’m not walking in with you,” Cinderella says as they enter. The hedges smell slightly floral and she breathes the fresh scent in hungrily. Jasmine, maybe? “I saw the look the Queen gave you last night.”
“My mother doesn’t give looks to me,” the Prince denies. He grins at her. “And we won’t be late. Or, if we are, neither of my parents will be upset.”
Something in his voice gives Cinderella pause. “Because they love you so very much?”
“Because if we’re late, they’ll be late too,” the Prince says and directs her around one last corner into the center of the maze where the Queen and King are waiting at a table set for four.
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(Patreon)
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exhaslo · 7 months ago
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Over-Time Ch4
(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2, Ch3
Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff
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"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said with a wide smile as she stood proudly in front of the large set of doors.
Your eyes could only widen as you thought of the man behind those doors. Such a powerful person was able to make Alchemax what it was. This was going to be your future boss. As nervous as you were, you had to make a good first impression!
"Stop scaring the new girl,"
Your ears perked up as you recognized the voice. Your breathing nearly halted as the doors began to open, revealing Miguel.
"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"
Your heart stilled for a moment as you recalled everything you had done. Your clumsiness for bumping into the CEO on your interview day, chatting with him so casually in the elevator and showing every form of weakness possible.
As you heart started to gain pace, your chest swelled with regret. It was difficult, but you held back your tears. Noticing the treat on his desk, you immediately bowed your head,
"I-I'm so...so sorry! I-I-"
"There is no need to apologize. It is I who should give my apologies. I was the one who deceived you." Miguel said with a smile.
"Ew, your smiling." Lyla muttered.
As Miguel bickered lowly with Lyla, you still felt your head spinning a mile a minute.
"Anyway-" Miguel gently shoved Lyla to the side, "I was more so enjoying the presence of someone who did not know who I was, which led me to fooling you. For that, I apologize."
"Ah-" You gasped, finally letting yourself breathe, "S-So...was I hired...because of...of my skill or-"
"Duuuuuh, girl. This guy doesn't know the meaning of special treatment. He's just a big oaf." Lyla pitched in with a smug eating grin. Miguel could only grumble to her response,
"Please ignore her statements about me. I look forward to working with you from now on. As you know, Lyla will be going on vacation very soon. During this time she will guide you on everything you will have to do. That is, if you are still willing-"
"Yes! Yes I am!" You nearly shouted before covering your mouth, "S-Sorry, I am. I really want to better...myself and you have given me this um, opportunity."
Glancing up at Miguel, you felt butterflies in your stomach as he smiled towards you.
"I'm glad to hear that." His voice was still so gentle, "Well, I have a meeting I must get ready for. Why don't you take the rest of the day off and we will see you tomorrow, yes?"
"Y-Yes!"
-----------
Miguel was the CEO. Miguel was the CEO. MIGUEL WAS THE CEO OF ALCHEMAX! AND I MADE A FOOL OF MYSELF!
The thoughts raged through your mind as you quietly sat on the bus on your way home. Biting your nail, you tried to calm down, but it was no use. Despite Miguel being so kind to you, you still couldn't stop from recalling your foolishness.
You had to make it up to him.
You HAD too.
------------
"Why are you being so nice?" Lyla asked once the two entered Miguel's office.
"Am I not human?" Miguel said with a snort, "Is it so wrong of me to treat another with kindness? I am surrounded by selfish fools and greedy bastards every second of the day. It is nice to have a change."
"Yeah, but I really don't want to see her bend over on your desk crying your name out when I come back."
"Lyla!" Miguel felt his cheeks burn, "You know me better than that."
"I do. Which is why I'm totally predicting a few outcomes."
"You have little faith in me,"
Miguel sat at his desk and let out a heavy sigh. As nice as he may have seemed to you, Lyla was not wrong. As a man, Miguel already had a thought, though for a mere second, of you under him. The face you might make when he shoved his dick inside those walls of yours.
"You're totally thinking about it now, gross." Lyla chuckled, "You're lucky she's a quiet one, but....that's also a problem."
Clearing his throat, Miguel rid himself of those naughty thoughts as he listened to Lyla.
"I know. (Y/n) will get eaten alive by my business partners. I'm sure you can find a way to boost her confidence in this short amount of time."
"Against those horny old bastards? Duh," Lyla hummed before plopping herself against Miguel's couch, "It's her I'm more worried about."
"She hasn't-"
"Every women who tries to enter your life has fled because of her. You're lucky I have the biggest pair of balls in his city to even stand a chance against that snake."
"I recall...I wonder if she still has your bite marks-"
"Bitch better! They were sharp and clean from my dental appointment!" Lyla huffed before fixing her hair, "But even so, not even I am capable of preparing someone against her. I fear that your new assistant will be eaten alive."
"Then I'll be the only one of us to have faith in (Y/n)."
"Hm,"
-----------
Miguel inhaled deeply as he stood against his balcony, enjoying the quiet night. It felt strange to not be so stressed out after a long day of work. Taking a sip of his drink, Miguel couldn't help but recall your expression from earlier.
You looked like a deer caught in headlights once Miguel revealed himself. Your face turned bright red and your words fumbling with each other. It was cute. Miguel assumed that you were overthinking and panicked.
But, he still had faith in you. You hadn't made any sort of move to try and win him over yet. Most tend to try and meet with Miguel after hours. Instead, you sent another apology email for your actions and for the salty snack.
"How has such a little mouse survived this long? In this city of predators like myself?"
Humming to the thought, Miguel also recalled that 'snake' that Lyla brought up. All Miguel had to do was hide your existence for the next few months and you'll be fine.
"Hm, but will she be fine against me?"
---------
It was day two of you officially working at Alchemax. Lyla was going to show you the ropes.
However, you had to get Miguel's morning coffee.
"Miguel turns into such a grumpy beast when he doesn't have his coffee. I've already memorized his order, but I wrote it down for you along with the place we get it from. I also put my order on there, and feel free to get yourself something."
"A-Are you sure? This is the company card." You stuttered, feeling a little nervous about a simple coffee run.
"It's Miguel's card and he doesn't mind. Once we've all had our energy, I'll start showing you the first morning tasks."
"Okay,"
You tried to stop shaking as you put the card and paper in your wallet. Hurrying downstairs, you tried to calm down. This was your first unofficial task for Miguel. A simple coffee run. How bad could it really be?
------
You shuddered as you stood in front of your old job. Your hands trembling as you held the piece of paper in your hand. You hardly worked this early in the morning, so it would make sense why you never thought of Alchemax workers getting their coffee from here.
Hell, you hardly even noticed how close the two jobs were to one another.
Inhaling deeply, you made your way inside. Sweat rolled down your neck as you saw your old co-workers in the middle of a rush. Each of them yelling out orders and ingredients. As long as they stayed busy and didn't notice you, it would be fine.
"Wel-Oh! (Y/n)! Nice of you to join us."
And there was the hostility.
"What?! She's here?! After she didn't show up for my shift yesterday?!"
"....I....quit...." You whispered, trying to hide behind the line of people waiting for their order.
"Well since you're here, clock in and help us."
"I....can't," You tried to say.
Didn't your manager tell everyone that you quit? You made sure to call them last night to inform them that you weren't going to work there anymore. You quit this toxic job for Alchemax. So why, why is everyone still so harsh?
"(Y/N)! We need the help!" Another coworker yelled out.
You were shaking as everyone started to stare at you. The paper in your hand starting to crumble as you shook. They didn't need your help. You were just going to make a mess with how busy it was. They just wanted to yell at you.
"I-I can't! I'm just here for my new job!" You nearly cried out.
"Tch, what a liar."
And there it was. You lowered your head as the line kept moving. The stares you were getting were intense. Everyone probably thought that you were an asshole. As you waited, you felt your phone buzz.
"H-Hello?" You stuttered.
"Ah! (Y/N)! I hope it isn't too late, could you-"
"(Y/N)! I heard from the others that you refuse to help, especially after not showing up yesterday. We need to have a word in my office." Your morning manager hissed.
"B-But...I-I-"
"It seems busy. I'll text you the item." Lyla said before hanging up.
Oh, how you wanted to cry. What were you to do? You could never stand up to the managers. Why didn't the night manager inform everyone that you quit?
"To. My. Office."
"What seems to be the problem?"
Your breathing hitched as you turned to find Miguel. You couldn't hold back the tears as Miguel placed his hand against your shoulder. It was amazing. Everyone immediately froze as they stared at your new boss. Were you the only one who didn't know that he was the CEO?
"You're-" Your manager snapped out of his shocked state, "I was just going to handle my associate about her teamwork and customer service."
"Your associate?" Miguel scoffed, "From my understanding and resources, she quit your establishment last night. (Y/n) works for me now. If this shop doesn't wish to treat my associates fairly, then Alchemax will gladly take our business elsewhere." Miguel said firmly, motioning you to follow him out.
"I'm sorry, sir! We weren't aware that she quit. Please, allow us to make you your drink on the house-"
"We don't need your charity. Instead, apologize to her."
"S-Sir, I...I really-"
"Don't let them talk down to you as if you're nothing," Miguel whispered in your ear, "You deserve to be treated fairly."
As if something was stuck in your throat, you could only nod towards Miguel. Glancing towards your old manager, you waited for his forced apology. You still didn't like the stares. You knew that you could never come back here after this.
It took a minute, but your old manager finally apologized. Miguel just smirked before walking you out of the shop. Finally feeling like you could breathe, you turned to face Miguel once you were a good distance away.
"I-I'm sorry for causing t-trouble...B-But...How did you know I-I was there?" You asked with a stutter. Miguel removed his hand from your shoulder,
"I normally come in a little late to give Lyla her 'beauty time' as I call it. It also gives her time to get my morning coffee without having to rush. I tend to take this route every now and then and couldn't help but notice you in the café."
"I'm sorry I'm being a burden already," Frowning as you lowered your head, you stared at the crumbled paper in your hand, "I couldn't even get this right-"
"Don't cry," Miguel hushed, lifting your chin, "You can't blame yourself for the foolish acts of others."
"I'm sorry," You whimpered once more. Miguel just let out a soft sigh, wiping a tear away,
"Come. I don't have a meeting for another hour or so. Why don't we spend some time looking for a new coffee shop? I wouldn't want you going back to that hostile place."
Watching Miguel hold his arm out, you sniffed as you calmed down. Lyla said that Miguel was a beast without his coffee, but he was still ever so kind to you. Taking his arm, you gladly took Miguel's offer as you spent some time getting to know your new boss.
---------
Lyla pouted as she sat in her office, staring at the clock.
"Where the hell is my coffee?"
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Next Chapter
@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @oscarissac2099 @keepghostly @zeyzeys-stuff @k3ythesapphic @nightingale1011 @mari0-o @uncle-eggy @safixiovi @flaps200 @dahehow @weirdothatwritess @gerblinradio @electronicchaoschaos @mafiaanomaly @pochapo
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chaewritesjjk · 6 months ago
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Obsessive Bestfriend; Gojo Satoru
Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader drabble
wc: 779 (not edited)
Synopsis: You get rejected by your crush, but lucky for you, your best friend is there to help you get over him. WARNINGS: MDNI! 18+ (please), somnophillia, dub-con, foul language, name-calling, fem! reader, dirty talk, hand-jobs, reader is eaten out, and a lot of very NSFW things!!!!!
You just got rejected from your first-ever 'real' crush.
You are crushed. He was the first actual guy you liked. And on top of that, he was one of the nicest friends you ever had. And you just ruined all that just by asking a simple question. Yes, you had a physical and emotional attraction to different guys before- but this one was different, yeah it's a cliche - I know. Now you are in your best friend Gojo Satoru's room crying your pretty little eyes out before him.
"ToruUuuU.. Sniff am I not girlfriend material or something?! Sniff " You ask, he just sighs and looks at you,
"You know, there are billions of other guys that are nicer, and smarter than h-"
"NO! I wanted him! And when and where am I supposed to find a better guy than that?!" You exclaim as you cut him off, you look up at him to find an annoyed expression on his face,
"You know, I could've had a girl over today but I canceled just to hear you talk about some dumb boy, just get over it." He says as he rolls his eyes at you.
You stare up at him and here come the waterworks again - you start sobbing uncontrollably, making him feel bad.
"Look, I'm sorry, but maybe it's a sign that it wouldn't have worked out anyway? Who needs a boyfriend when you have me right?" He looks at you waiting for an answer,
But to no avail, you keep on crying. He sighs again and pulls you in for a deep embrace.
He can't help but smile as you cry. Is it bad that he knew this would happen? He predicted all of this. You get rejected, and you come crying to him. It's always him. He is all you have. You need him.
He strokes your hair and begins comforting you with his words, "...there there, I'm always here for you. You don't need to worry..." Then you slowly start to drift off into a deep sleep.
-
"ah.. hnghhh... " What? Why were you making these noises? You groggily open your swollen eyes. You are then met with a sudden wave of pleasure from your pussy. With widened eyes, you look down and see none other than your best friend peering back up at you; between your legs, chin glistening from your juices, and smiling.
You gasp and try to close your legs only to be deflected by Satoru's hands holding them down. He goes back down and continues eating at your cunt hungrily - sucking on your clit and lapping up the juices you secrete.
"To-toru! What are you doing?" You panic and try to squirm away from his touch. He smacks your thigh - "M'only trying to help you get over your rejection, s'just be a good girl for me and take it." He continues to aggressively eat you out, and you can't help but let out loud moans. You feel a familiar feeling rushing to your stomach as he starts to tongue fuck you.
"To-toru- m'gonna cum!" You cry out as you arch your back, you are now gripping his hair to angle him to get more friction of his tongue and your bare pussy. As you get closer and closer to your climax, You feel fingers start to insert into your leaky hole; this sends you over the edge. You cum on his fingers right away - a whiney wet whimper leaving your mouth.
"He is s'dumb for not wanting you - look at you. He's missin out." He coos at you kissing your cheek. Your eyes hooded and droopy, legs open; still in the position he was eating you out in, your cunt glistening and the room filled with the sound of heavy breathing.
"You needed this, it was the only way to get over him, sweetheart. N'now, he wouldn't want a dirty slut like you would he?" He pulls you in his arms and starts stroking your hair,
"You don't need anyone else besides me. M'the only one always here for you aren't I?" he says looking down at you, you look up at him meekly and start to realize - he's right.
He's always been there for you - no matter the weather or time. You really don't need anyone else besides him. And if you lost him... you would probably crumble. He knows all your deepest darkest secrets, and you know his - well, most of them. So you nod at his question and snuggle into his chest starting to dose off. Satoru gives out a smile, his breath shuddering as he feels nothing but a dark wish being fulfilled - you're his, and you know it.
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a/n: my first fic 😭 it's just a short n' cute fic that I completed in like 2 days. I have so many drafts and ideas but I didn't know what I wanted to post so send me more ideas! thanks for reading!!!
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scientia-rex · 6 months ago
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I made that post about how smoking is bad—actually, no, I’ve made two relatively popular posts about how smoking is bad for you. Raises your chances of dying from multiple factors including heart disease and stroke in addition to lung (and mouth, throat, and bladder) cancer.
I am always so baffled by the responses going “well I could die from something else!” Yes. You could. Statistically speaking, you will most likely die of heart disease, stroke, or cancer, if you live in the US. Your average life expectancy is somewhere around 78 for women, 76 for men. Many people die younger than that, for a lot of reasons. Many of my patients have illnesses that will shorten their lives. I hate to split it into “fault,” as if there’s some kind of perfect way to live a blameless life. (There isn’t.) The numbers, however, are both clear and pitiless. People who smoke are more likely to die younger than they otherwise might have.
Medicine is a numbers game. My job is not to psychically predict exactly what will punch your ticket and when. It is to improve your odds. I want you to both live as long a life as possible but also as high-quality a life as possible. I want for you to live a life you enjoy.
It’s that simple; it’s not sinister. I’m not out here going “I’ll tell them not to smoke so they can have LESS FUN before getting hit by a bus at 30!”
Because smoking isn’t actually fun. What it is, is a very quick (and faster = more addictive) reduction in physical feedback systems that heighten anxiety. Withdrawal of an unpleasant stimulus is rewarding. (Technically, it’s a negative reward; the negative doesn’t refer to a moral judgment, but the addition or subtraction of a stimulus.) Something that is very rewarding very fast will be very addictive. It’s why crack cocaine is also so addictive—it is also a very fast and very potent reward. It’s also why benzodiazepines like Xanax are so addictive to so many people; it’s a slower peak blood level but the removal of severe anxiety is profoundly rewarding.
So smoking can make you feel better when you do it. But your body will try to fix any broken signals. It doesn’t just want to be able to signal to you when you need to feel stressed: it has to be able to signal you, or your long-ago ancestors would have been eaten by predators. So it ramps up the signaling. Now you’re not smoking because you feel better than baseline; you’re smoking to get back to baseline.
That’s why quitting sucks. When you quit smoking, all of the sudden your body’s signals of stress that got dialed up to 11 to overcome the nicotine are just out there at full blast, making you feel scared and jittery and irritable. It’s why when you quit benzos (or daily alcohol) cold turkey you can get life-threatening seizures. It’s why when you stop alcohol you’re likely to have sleep disruptions that can persist for weeks to months.
That’s why things that help reduce the suckage can help. Nicotine patches, lozenges, or gum. Chantix. Wellbutrin. Slowly stepping down the nicotine level on your vape. Eating more, eating things you like. (I would 1000% rather have a patient be fat than be smoking. I know other people will be shittier to you if you gain weight. Living is worth it.) Being kind to yourself helps you quit smoking. You need to recognize that “quitting smoking you” is not your baseline you. It is you with an invisible illness that will take weeks to months to get over.
And sometimes you can’t face that hump right now. But if you want to maximize your odds of the longest and healthiest possible life, knowing that any number of terrible things can happen to you at any time, making the effort—over and over again, if you need to—is the best shot you have.
There are a couple of conditions where smoking does markedly reduce symptoms. The well-known ones are schizophrenia and Crohn’s disease. If you feel not just better, but better like this is a medication for you, like you poop blood or hear things without it, talk to your primary care provider, because there are other medicines that might be safer and/or more effective for you. The landscape around pharmaceutical research has shifted dramatically over the last 30 years. We have more options than we’ve ever had before. Maybe this doesn’t have to be the expensive, dangerous medication that half-works for you. And if what you’re self-medicating is your anxiety, nicotine is a pretty crappy medication for that, because it doesn’t fix you; it changes your baseline to an even shittier place.
You have bodily autonomy. You can make your own choices. I will never go to a patient’s house and slap the cigarette out of their hand. But if what you want is the longest and healthiest possible life, smoking makes your odds worse.
The number of people who think that I, as a doctor, would be unaware of how profoundly unfair bodily health can be amazes me. It’s like the first Father Brown story, where Father Brown is explaining to the villain that someone whose main job is to hear about all of the terrible sins people have to confess cannot remain naive. My job is watching people age, or filling out their death certificates. One or the other. I prefer watching them age, but everyone will die. Someday my doctor will be filling out my death certificate. I’ve removed one potential contributing factor from that line—maybe I’ll get diabetes, maybe I’ll get cancer, maybe I’ll have a workplace accident, but “smoking” isn’t going to be on that line anymore. That’s the best I can do. I can’t psychically predict my own death, either; just play the numbers, try to do my best, and hope.
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isawritesshit · 1 year ago
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The Color Blue - Prologue
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image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest
Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.
Warnings and Content: fem! reader, fluff, themes of forced/arranged marriage, hints of mental abuse, mentions of sex, mentions of menstrual cycle
Author's Note: As promised, the official start of my next Gojo series! Just for context, this is an AU of the JJK canon events (no KFC breakup, and as of now, no mention of Megumi). It is also inspired a little bit by my other Gojo series Someone. Other things I want to flag is that I do plan for there to be nsfw content in this series, as well as themes of physical and mental abuse. As of now, I am unsure how long this series will be. Updates will depend on my availability to write.
Word Count: ~2.4k
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People would say that if there was one thing that Gojo Satoru was not, it would be committed. Not in all ways, however. Satoru was very committed to his sorcery, to the protection of ordinary people and the balance of the their world and the jujutsu one. It was relationships that he struggled with. Yes, he had always had an authority problem, both growing up and even now, so his relationships with jujutsu elders and other clan leaders were never good to begin with, especially when he became a clan leader himself and took up the title as “The World’s Strongest Sorcerer”. However, his friends? He cared deeply for them, but he could never show them that, lest he risk the possibility of them getting hurt for that same reason. Lovers? Absolutely not. They would last a week at best, hence why his friends would say he had commitment issues. 
But, what many people did not know was that Satoru was betrothed to be married, and if there was one thing that he could say that he was committed to, it was that. 
And not just because he knew that the responsibility of upholding the Gojo Clan’s honor and survival was on his shoulders, but also for a reason that no one could have predicted. 
The first time Satoru had seen his future bride, they were both young, too young to understand why each of their parents were sitting across from one another, or why the most important members of the Kamo Clan were staring him down when he was barely even five years old. But when his parents asked to see you, that’s when everything changed. 
You were carried into the room by a caregiver and left in between the two families like you were some kind of meal. A veil-like mask covered the front of your face from the nose down, but Satoru could tell you were roughly his age. Your wide eyes looked about. First at your caregiver, who stepped out of the room with a bow, then to your parents, who didn’t even seem to notice you, then to his parents, and then finally to him, the only other child in the room. 
Gojo Satoru didn’t know it at the time, but it was at that moment that he had fallen in love with you. That same day, it was agreed upon that the two of you would wed when he was 25 and shortly after you turned 24. That seemed like such a long time, but… Satoru decided that maybe he would try to speak to you when he saw you next. 
Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Both of your families kept each of you on a tight leash, and neither were inclined to meet with one another just because the Gojo heir wanted to see his bride. They were rival clans after all, with a long history of vendettas and alliances. 
However, just because Satoru saw you once didn’t mean that he stopped thinking of you. Even as a pre-teen, he sounded out your name in his head, sometimes aloud when he was alone. Kamo (Y/N). It was one of the few things he knew about you, other than what your eyes looked like. He knew that those eyes had likely changed over the years since the first time he saw you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about them. About you. 
There were a few other things Satoru knew about you. You were the only daughter of Arao Kamo, the Kamo Clan head. Not only that, you were his youngest child and had three older brothers, all of whom Satoru had never met before. He would take in what his parents would tell him about you, though it wasn’t much; only that you had a different cursed technique from the blood manipulation that ran strong in the Kamo line, and that you were naturally beautiful for your age. 
But Satoru wanted to know more. He wanted to know what your interests were and if they were similar to his. He wanted to know more about your cursed technique and what kind of training you had received. He knew that you would receive some kinds of etiquette and liberal arts education, as was normal for daughters of the clans to do, but did you like any of those things? What foods do you like? How have you grown? 
What did the rest of your face look like? That was the question that replayed constantly in his head after Satoru was notified that him and his parents were to meet with your family again to make some further updates to the arrangement. Maybe this would be his chance for him to finally speak with you, to get to know you. 
But it was just the same as before. There was no caregiver to bring you in this time though, and no other Kamo representatives other than your mother and father, whom you sat beside. 
Satoru remembered staring at you the whole time, taking you in. His parents didn’t lie. You were beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you, and you also carried yourself maturely for a young girl. Your eyes had changed, of course, more grown but still just as wide and lively as he remembered. Your face was no longer obscured by a mask. Instead, you held a delicate fan that matched the kimono you wore, covering your face as you listened intently while your parents spoke, but never speaking yourself. 
You didn't look in his direction even once.
The meeting had concluded before he knew it had begun. His parents had needed confirmation of your fertility, since they were to be among the first to be notified when you started your cycle. However, in an offer that was a bit unexpected, your father had requested that the marriage date be moved up five years, to which his parents agreed. That part made Satoru ecstatic. Instead of waiting 12 years, he now would only have to wait seven. 
With that, you bowed and departed behind your parents, swift and silent. Satoru tried not to look like he was running as he tried to catch another glimpse at you when his parents excused him, but when he peered out the nearest window that overlooked the front lawn where you had arrived, you were already gone. 
And so, Satoru would go another seven years. Another seven years of thinking of you, dreaming of you, wondering what you looked like behind your fan and cosmetics. He had hoped to see you enrolled in the same class as him at Jujutsu Tech, though he knew for a fact that you most likely would not be. Your parents, more so your father, he realized, protected and sheltered you more than ever after that second meeting. He had expected you not to show up to that first day of school, but when that first day was over and you actually didn’t, a small part of his heart still sank. 
Satoru did take some females to bed during the next seven years you spent apart, mostly out of curiosity as to what sex felt like, but also by persuasion of his friends. However, his friends would get confused as to why he would never allow those girls to stay the next morning, or why he would insist on wearing a condom even when they gave him permission to finish inside. He would give the excuse (thought it really was the truth) that he actually wasn’t that interested, or that he also wanted to protect against STDs (the latter was a great insult that had women storming out on him, to his relief). In reality, he wanted his first real time, his first enjoyable time, to be with you. Even if he was allowed to take on any amounts of lovers he wanted both in marriage and out of it, he felt guilty knowing that you had to save yourself for him. So, in a way, he was saving himself for you too. 
As the years came closer and closer, he began to think of you more and tried to subtly gather more information on you, to little avail. He knew that this pining and longing could be considered childish, but he didn’t care. Was it wrong to want to come to love, to already be in love, with the person he was to spend the rest of his life and create a family with? Satoru certainly didn’t think so.
However, that didn’t mean he was without restraint. After his parents had passed and the mantle of the Gojo Clan leader was given to him, he didn’t try or demand to see you. After all, the two of you could still be considered strangers. Hell that is what you were, he had to remind himself. He figured it would be best to keep you with your family and not disturb your current life, especially since you would be seeing your family less once you came to live with him (but also because he didn’t want you to see him as some obsessed maniac). He decided he would be patient and wait, which would make your first real meeting with him all the more sweeter. 
Those seven years passed by too fast, he realized as he stood in the center of a magnificent shrine in what could have been the most spectacular and slightly uncomfortable outfit he had ever worn. Your family surrounded him on almost all sides as they awaited your arrival at sunset. Your parents and your brothers with their wives sat off to Satoru's right, and he could feel their eyes on him the entire hour that he stood there in a calm panic. After what seemed like an eternity, your headpiece peaked slowly over the hill as you ascended the path to the shrine. He held his breath. 
He noticed your eyes again first. 
They were downcast, melancholy, almost near lifeless. Not anywhere the lively pools of color he remembered and saw so often in his dreams. Your blank expression was such a contrast to the splendor of your being. Indeed, he thought that he was being pledged to a goddess, the way your updone hair and headpiece played in the golden sunlight, the way the whites, golds, and reds of your wedding kimono and wraps made you look like a princess, and the way your face, your whole face, looked like it had been extracted from a star.
To put simply, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. 
Finally, you found your place beside him, your hands clasped in the folds of your long sleeves. It took you standing this close for Satoru to realize how much smaller you were than him, though he quickly discerned how much your face and demeanor had shaped into womanhood since he last saw you. He would catch glimpses of you when he could throughout the ceremony, taking in more of your features that you had laid out for him. The curves of your face, the shade and suppleness of your skin, delicateness of your hands... His heart was beating so rapidly, hoping that you would look back at him at least once. 
But you never did, even when you presented one another with ceremonial wine, or when you took his arm to leave the shrine for the reception dinner that was filled to the brim with Kamo Clan members and other officials. As soon as you both entered that reception, your fan was over your face. You didn’t say a word to him the whole time, so he never said anything to you. 
A cold sweat had laid itself over Satoru as you said goodbye to your family members. It wasn’t the type of goodbye that he would expect a family to give to their only daughter. There was no affection, no emotion shown, as if leaving your family was merely another ceremony. And then you turned back to him, eyes still looking down of course, and got into his car without a word. 
Satoru could tell that something was wrong and off about you. Sure, you had carried yourself gracefully throughout the entire evening. Every movement you had made between walking and eating and sitting was done to absolute perfection. Maybe it was those monotone movements that should have been his first sign. No, it wasn’t that. It had to have been your eyes. Why were they always so bleak? Why did you never look up at him or make eye contact with him or speak to him? What had happened to you since the last time he saw you?
At least your fan wasn’t up. That he could be thankful for. Satoru sighed. He couldn’t help but feel like the happiest day of his life, the one where he finally got to be with the girl he had loved for 15 years, was the saddest day of your own. He wanted to ask about it so bad, now that he had you alone, but he didn’t. He would just look at you every so often as you watched the Tokyo scenery pass by through the car window. Maybe this was your way of taking everything in, and he didn’t want to disrupt that. He trusted that you would talk when you were ready.
You remained silent as the car stopped and he walked you up the stairs to the front door of his home estate, one of the many under the Gojo name. Your new home. In a perfect world, in what he had imagined previously, you would have been smiling and excited as he picked you up to walk you through the doorway. In that world, you would have hugged and kissed him as he twirled you around and around in your own private celebration.
The door closing behind him brought him back to reality. You now stood in the center of his grand foyer, eyeing the dark polished wood and rich splendor of your new dwelling place. The space was only illuminated by shaded lamps and a dim glass chandelier above the grand staircase. A new couch, your couch, was against one wall, one of many of your belongings that had been moved in a week ago. Satoru decided to sit on that couch while you stood in the center of the room, looking down, not moving. 
Satoru couldn’t take this anymore. It was like you treated the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world. As if he, your new husband, wasn’t sitting ten feet away from you. He even considered the possibility of you being deaf or mute for a moment. No, he didn’t know what to do, other than speak to you. But what to say? Are you feeling okay? Are you happy? Sad? Were your clothes uncomfortable? How come you didn’t speak or look at him? At anyone? Was it something you were afraid of? Were you afraid of…
That had to be it. 
“Are you afraid of me?”
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nuggetpool-hi · 5 days ago
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Guess who watched X-Men origins again
OK SO I got THOUGHTS of this movie but specially Wade's fight style because it's really similar to our current Deadpool's fighting style... so yeah I wanna yap about that hi
WELL FIRST OF wanna talk a lil about Victor, Logan and Wade's different styles... from a mortal's view point I am no expert on this just insane about these movies and I need to write my thoughts or i'll explode
Starting with Victor!! the ultimate kittycat girlypop
I love his kitty self I'm sorry ANYWAY EXAMPLES
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OKAY SO VICTOR. Victor's style is obviously very animalistic but also stylized, he makes the fight a show for himself! He likes to hunt and he tries to always give chase or play around a bit before the kill, just like a cat playing with his food!
AND IF you pay attention to the start of the movie, this game he's got with his target isn't initially how he fought, he kinda developed it as the years went by and the eviler he got the more he played with his food. The first few wars he goes to he's fighting like a human soldier, then you can see him slip up some animal jumps and uses his claws more until at the end he's full on predator chasing his prey (just like when he captures Scott, my god I love that scene he's terryfing)
AND A BIG DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HIM AND LOGAN (that I will also talk about later I guess) is that with this play thing Victor has going on it SHOWS that he THINKS about the stragety when fighting, he's aware of his surroundings and his target's strenghs and weaknesses, he's good at coming up with solutions on the spot (see his fight with John, he can predict where he's going to teleport and catch him) and how to give a good chase without losing WHILE LOGAN WELL, at least in this movie he seems very lost when fighting?? he mostly just launches at his target and attacks, if the target runs away he chases, very animalistic but in a feral-based on instincts way... prolly why he coulnt win agaisnt Victor at first, because he was being blinded by his rage while Victor was quite literally playing with him lmao
ANYWAY LOGAN our favorite traumatized babygirl
and boy does he suffer in this one aughh EXAMPLES
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Now you must be wondering why did I put the bathroom scene, well I feel like it represents Logan's general situation pretty well! (and its silly let me be), hes confused destroying everything and just keeps making it worse every time he tries to fix it.
The thing about Logan in this movie is that he's honestly just- confused and angry from the moment he killed his father, he runs away over and over again from EVERYTHING and he's constantly being manipulated BY EVERYONE!! Poor man has no idea what to do with himself of who he can actually trust but damn he tries, his enviroment is contantly changing and he's trying his best to adapt but he does it in a messy way.
The way he fights and acts in general is animalistic, yes, but more of the "scared dog attacks" kind of way, he's always acting on his instinct that it's mostly led by anger. When he fights he just throws himself and tries to slash whatever he can, he runs he hides and then when he gets the chance to he attacks again.
He constantly has little to no control of the situtation WHICH IS SPECIALLY SEEN pre-adamantium where he keeps losing to Victor because unlike him- he has no plan, he's being manipulated and kept blind of everything ON PURPOUSE which obviouly puts him in a disadvantage so yeah.
AFTER he gets the adamantium you can see his skills strengen with his knowledge, the more he lears about his situation the more focused he is and his fighting it's cleaner, he still moslty just launches himself head first into fights BUT he's not running away, he's able to evaluate his situation and adapt (See his fight with Gambit, he looks at him when running away and then destroys the stair so Gambit can't run away OR with Deadpool where he decides to gain height as a way to create the space needed to evaluate his enemy?? that one might be a lil bit of a stretch tho)
WADE WILSON THE ULTIMATE CUTIE PRINCESS
let's ignore how dirty they did him ok...
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OKAY SO SADLY- The bullet scene is pretty much the only scene where we see him fight and it's honestly not enough to tell how his normal style is BUT I WILL SAY his general style is fancy to look at and scarily effective (which is mostly seen with our current Wade but you can see a bit in origins deadpool) he makes a show for everyone to see, which is also his stragedy to make himself even better at combat! He uses a lot of fancy movements and acrobatics that help him AND takes his enemies off-guard, confusing them as where they should attack or what he's going to hit?? anyway-
Comparison time yippieee THIS IS WHAT THIS POST IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT LMAO
I did not get side tracked idk what you mean.... and now seeing it over and over I'm realizing not that noticeable.... so it's just not that much to talk about oops
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LOOK AT THIS WADE, LOOK AT THE MOVEMENTS HE DOES WITH HIS LEGS!! HIS HANDS??? THIS MAN IS SHOWING OFF he's using all kinds of acrobatics and fancy movements while fighting, he attacks with his hands and dodges using mostly his legs, he's using all he has!! and it's making Logan lose BECAUSE LOGAN CAN'T FOCUS!! specially since he's so "target locked will attack", Wade makes it SO HARD for him to focus on a pose long enough to actually stab him also Logan ain't too good at dodging, I'm guessing it could be because he heals? dunno
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now what inmediately came to my mind upon rewatch was THIS scene (maybe because I saw it recently who knows)
THE SETTING IS SO SIMILAR!! Wade is using a lot of fancy movements to get up, dodge and attack all way too fast for Logan to process, once again Logan is looking everywhere confused about where to aim bc this silly red guy it's dancing on his face and he's struggling to keep up JUST LIKE IN ORIGINS except well he IS able to get a hit bahah
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Dodges like crazy, jumps over Logan (he did in origins too) just moves a lot between every attack
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Actually now that I think about it Wade feels a bit less effective in the car, like yes sure he's putting up a good fight but Logan still feels like he's leading it BECAUSE WADE IS MORE EFFECTIVE WHEN HE HAS MORE SPACE!! he likes to be able to move around and do gimnastics while Logan it's a lot better the closer he gets to his target so omg yeah... ALSO LIKE WADE STILL TRIES TO MOVE AROUND he shoves Logan away from him, he gets out of the car choking logan with a seatbelt and gets to the back, he tries to create space because that's where his speciality WHILE LOGAN keeps trying to get closer to have him in his power, which he gets to do since the car isn't allowing Wade to move as freely as he would want to...
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AND YOU CAN SEE HIS FANCY MOVEMENTS WITH FRANCIS TOO he's constantly circuling him, dodging and spinning while Francis is just trying to get a hit, Wade keeps his enemies chasing him when he fight THAT'S the way he controls it and gets it wherever he wants aughh
ANYWAY YEAH I think that's it, don't really know how much sense any of this does since I've been writing it on-and off the whole day lmao it's so messy but yeah feel free to add onto it I'd love to see opinions on this wahoo
Might keep talking about stuff I find interesting in the movies bahah this has been funn
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calliesmemes · 8 months ago
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EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF
ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.
CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.
SPECIFY muse for multimuses.
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“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”
“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”
“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”
“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”
“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”
“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”
“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”
“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”
“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”
“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”
“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”
“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”
“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”
“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”
“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”
“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”
“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”
“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”
“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”
“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”
“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”
“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”
“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”
“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”
“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”
“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”
“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”
“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”
“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”
“   I was born for shock value. ”
“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”
“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”
“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”
“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”
“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”
“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”
“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”
“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”
“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”
“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”
“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”
“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”
“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”
“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”
“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”
“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”
“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”
“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”
“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”
“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”
“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”
“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”
“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”
“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”
“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”
“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”
“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”
“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”
“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”
“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”
“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”
“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”
“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”
“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”
“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”
“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”
“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”
“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”
“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”
“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”
“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”
“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”
“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”
“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”
“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”
“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”
“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”
“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”
“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”
“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”
“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”
“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”
“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”
“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”
“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”
“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”
“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”
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obeymeshallwedateaddict · 2 months ago
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Hello! I’ve really been enjoying your writing! May I request short drabbles for Lucifer, Satan, and Barbatos who react to MC when she answers the man vs bear question with bear? If it’s heavy for you to write, I completely understand.
Have a lovely day/night and please take care!
Hello! I'm sorry for the wait. But thanks for your request. I think it's very meaningful. After all it's important to feel safe around our demons no matter what. I hope you enjoy it.
Summary: Lucifer, Satan and Barbatos reacting to MC choosing the bear in the trend man vs bear.
Contains: Fluff
Fem!MC
You can find more of my work here: Masterlist
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Lucifer
The eldest had recently discovered the trend 'man vs bear' and was interested in your point of view on the matter so he decided to come to you and ask directly. And as much as he was expecting to hear that answer it still shook him to the core.
Lucifer: mumbling "Bear? Hm.. not that I didn't expect to hear that.."
He kept silent for a few more seconds before speaking up again.
Lucifer: "MC could you explain why you chose bear..?"
MC: "Well.. I just... I guess I don't feel particularly safe around men? The thought of what men are capable of scares me.."
Lucifer looked at you with concern in his eyes. He took your hands in his and gave you a sincere look.
Lucifer: "MC, I'm aware why you chose the bear. But.. I want you to know that you're be safe in the Devildom or wherever you maybe be when I'm right there with you. I'll make sure no man, no demon lays a finger on you."
Silence followed and the demon took a deep breath. He carefully wrapped his arms around you and spoke into your ear.
Lucifer: "...I know I, myself am a man but please trust me. I would never do anything to harm you."
Satan
The fourth-born heard of that trend from Asmo and wasn't particularly interested until one day before heading to bed he decided that he had to know your answer. So the next day he came to you with the question but the answer wasn't what he was expecting.
Satan: "Bear? Why bear? MC, were keeping you safe here in the Devildom no one would dare to lay a hand on you. Why did you choose bear?"
MC: "Satan, this question talk about men in general not men in the Devildom. And I'd be lying if I said that I feel safe around men."
The demon fell silent. Soon enough he took your hand in his and caressed its knuckles.
Satan: "MC, do you feel safe around me..?"
You smiled softly at the demon and nodded your head.
MC: "Of course I feel safe around you, Satan. You've long proven yourself that you're worthy of my trust.."
A relieved smile appeared on his face and he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
Satan: "Thank you, MC. I promise to always protect you from the dangers of life. I love you."
Barbatos
Barbatos was never interested in trends so he wasn't fast to get to know of this one. But once when Diavolo mentioned it and said that he'd like to know what your answer would be Barbatos was determined to confront you about it. And as much as he has hoped your answer would be different he had predicted what you'd say.
Barbatos: "I see..."
The demon kept silent for a minute, lost in his thoughts.
MC: "Barbatos? Is everything alright? You seem disappointed.."
Barbatos: "Disappointed? No. I'm just concerned.."
MC: "Concerned about my answer?"
Barbatos: "Indeed I am."
MC: "Well.. I mean.. of course I'd choose bear.. you never know what could go through a man's head.."
Barbatos: "Well yes of course, MC. You are quite tight but I can't help but wonder... Do you feel safe here with us in the Devildom?"
MC: "I'd be lying if I said that I don't. Even if something happens I know I can rely on the brothers or one of you guys to help me."
Barbatos smiled and took your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.
Barbatos: "Good. Always know that you're safe in the Devildom. Whether it would be me or the brothers or whoever it is that is protecting you. And if something happens you can rely on me to handle it."
MC: "Thank you, Barbatos!"
Barbatos: "Of course. It is my duty to ensure your safety here in the Devildom."
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spirantization · 1 year ago
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"Wild Blue Yonder" dealt with some of the emotional fallout of the Flux, so I want to rewind a bit and look at what that means for the Doctor.
I know that the Timeless Child and the Flux are contentious topics. I'm not here to argue either way. But now those storylines have decisively not been retconned, and with both of these fresh in my memory, I feel the need to offer some context for anyone who may not have seen it, and to recontextualize it for myself and anyone who has.
NotDonna: You don't know where you're from. The Doctor: How do you know that? How does anyone know? How does Donna know?
In "The Timeless Children", we find out that the Doctor was discovered as a child alone under a wormhole, and adopted by a woman named Tecteun. There was an accident where the Doctor fell from a cliff and regenerated, and subsequently Tecteun performed "experiments" on them to try to understand regeneration. The show minces words about this but she killed a child a whole bunch of times is what happened. Her experiments created the Time Lords and allow them to engineer their regeneration properties. The Doctor has no memory of any of this, and only finds out via the Master and information stored in the Time Lord Matrix.
The Doctor, predictably, doesn't tell anyone about this revelation. She makes a speech to the Master about how this makes her more, we get a single shot of her looking a bit tired in the TARDIS, then she immediately gets thrown in prison.
Ultimately, the Doctor doesn't know where they're from or who their parents are. And the very fact that they're not from Gallifrey is information that no one in the universe should have. Everyone who knew is now dead.
NotDonna: I saw it in your head. The Flux. The Doctor: It destroyed half the universe because of me. We stand here now, on the edge of creation, a creation which I devastated, so yes I keep running, of course I do! How am I supposed to look back on that? NotDonna: It wasn't your fault! The Doctor: I know!
A fun fact about the Flux is that the Doctor did not cause it. So why does he blame himself? Because the person who caused the Flux was Tecteun.
The reason why Tecteun wanted to destroy the universe is because the Doctor interfered with things too much. Too much morality. Too inspirational to people. She calls them a virus. So her solution to the problem of the Doctor is to destroy the universe, with the Doctor inside, and take her ship to a different universe to start fresh. She also was the one to steal all the Doctor's memories of previous lives in the first place. She's dismissive and patronizing and clearly does not care about the Doctor on an emotional level at all. Tecteun is a piece of work, and the implications of her actions and how they've shaped the Doctor have the potential to go deep.
Thirteen doesn't get too much of a chance to react to any of this, because there is plot going on. And shortly after they reunite, Tecteun gets killed by a different villain. So there was no emotional closure in the moment, and there's now no possibility for the Doctor to make sense of her actions. The Doctor does not tell any of her friends about any of these events. She keeps promising to tell Yaz but does not.
"Wild Blue Yonder" is the first time we, as the audience, hear the Doctor discuss the Flux. And their perception of events is skewed at best. The Flux wasn't caused because the Doctor made a mistake and a lot of people were killed, which is what you can argue for many other situations. The Flux and the devastation of the universe was caused by their mother, who promptly turned around and told them it was their fault for being such an interfering nuisance. We know that the Doctor is often an unreliable narrator, but this is beyond that. These are the words of an abused child who has internalized the narrative that the abuse was their fault.
So the Doctor being able to talk about this with Donna, who has seen what happened, who knows him, and tells him that it's not his fault — it means so much to him. He wants it to be her so badly. And then NotDonna laughs in his face. You can see the devastation. He thinks for one moment that he can finally talk about this with his best friend, and it's snatched away from him. He gives himself a moment to break down in the corridor, and then you can see the walls rebuilding as he suppresses it all again.
At the very end of the episode, back in the TARDIS, he's trying very very hard to be nonchalant. I'm curious. The NotDonna could remember all these things that happened to me while we were apart. Can you? Just wondering. Things happened, but I'll be fine. In a million years. It's not a joke.
He wants so badly to be able to talk about this. You can see it in all the lines of his body language. He's keeping himself together but is prepared to fall apart in an instant. He doesn't want to actually tell anyone, but if Donna just magically knew already, and could tell him it wasn't his fault — well, that would make the world of difference. But she doesn't know, and he can't bring himself to tell her. And so the cycle continues.
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sillygoosealert · 3 months ago
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★Future predictions☆
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Death, Marriage, idk angst?? Just Daisy being a silly billy Sukuna stuff
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The King of Curses has you pinned underneath him, forcing you to take both of his cocks, one in each of your overly warm holes.
Making sure to keep your mouth occupied, he shoves his tongue into your mouth, filling it to the brim. Every inch of you is and will continue to be filled by him- that he would promise.
Not that he liked making promises. There isn't too much of a point to them. They provide a sense of security, but why would he give that to anyone who wasn't worthy of it- which is everyone.
Everyone but you, Sukuna thinks. For you, he would promise the world- if you would like that. That's something he wanted to promise, but he won't. Ever.
The Disgraced One could never promise to let you sleep in his bed, but Ryomen Sukuna could guarantee he won't let you leave afterward.
Right now, you're being crushed under his weight, gasping for air, as he doesn't do breaks after he's finished.
You begged him to be gentle for your first time doing- both of your holes, and he said he couldn't promise anything. This is one of the times he's glad he doesn't make promises, so when the inevitable happens, and Lord Sukuna does whatever he wants, no verbal agreement can be held against him.
It's foolish how much something as flexible as words can hold so much value for you.
It is also foolish how he gives in to your desires. Something he does in the moment and regrets soon after.
While your foreheads are touching and his breath is on your mouth, he rambles about how he truly feels about you. The words 'I love you' are said in his way.
"You will be my wife. I will give you the biggest ring and the nicest clothes.."
He likes to tell you these things to see your eyes widen and your heartbeat pick up.
Telling you, not asking, and not exactly promising. But saying what will happen.
When he puts you on top of him to curl up, he finds himself also falling asleep.
Waking up in the garden, he finds himself hand in hand with you. Eyes meet with his, filled with tears and shock.
A ring in his hand limp by his side.
"Will you marry me?"
Something he would never say if he had complete control of his body.
"Will you marry me?"
Is marriage something he could ever be content with?
"Will you marry me?"
The king of curses does not settle.
"Will you marry me?"
Ryomen Sukuna is staring at you while the words leave his lips.
"Will you marry me?"
Could Lord Sukuna truly love a mortal?
"Will you marry me?"
Would Sukuna be enough for you?
It doesn't matter what he thinks, because you're nodding your head vigorously as salty drops of water go down your cheeks.
"Promise me something, please." Promise? He's shaking his head yes without processing your words fully.
"Let me have the privilege of being your only wife. I am devoting my life to you, please, give me this, Sukuna."
Oh.
That might be something he could agree to.
You might be the only person, let alone a woman, that he would look into the eyes and make a genuine promise.
Very pretty, kind, soft eyes, on that note.
"You are the only woman I will call my own, I will promise you that."
"Are we ready for that?"
He's sliding the ring on your finger, cupping your face with another hand.
"We are. I will always be ready for you."
That might now be the full truth. The reality is he's so, so scared. This might not be the time. But now it's too late. It doesn't matter when he would prefer to do it. You're married now. Forever. Permanently.
"Does this mean we can have a cute little white fence and a pretty garden filled with daisies?"
He could do that.
"And a family?"
Hm..
"You aren't scared to have a child with me?"
"Why would I be?"
A good question with too many answers.
"Look at me, and tell me you aren't scared."
You look him in the eyes and open your mouth.
"I'm not scared of you."
Things blur and nothing makes sense.
And he wakes up.
There is no longer a ring on your finger.
You're sleeping beside him.
He did not overcome his fear of commitment.
You are not married.
There were no promises.
Nothing can be held against him.
But would it be so bad if there was?
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Kinda rushes the seconded half, idk got mad and was just kinda over it lolz
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