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#and that he acted like an open book while telling people nothing about himself
garlic-sauc3 · 6 months
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versions of booster gold made by people who obviously dont know much about booster can be so infuriating because they tend to depict him as stupid or as a joke and then people who only know him from these depictions in more popular media have a skewed impression of him
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cow-smells · 8 months
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Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader
Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D
The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25
Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: none
A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)
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“Don't you ever take a break?”
Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.
Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”
You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.
When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.
You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.
The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.
The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.
The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.
The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.
You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.
You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.
So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.
You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”
You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”
You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”
Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.
Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.
The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.
You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.
The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.
The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.
In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.
"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.
"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"
It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"
Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."
Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."
You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."
Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."
You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"
You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.
The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"
Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.
The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."
Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."
On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.
From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."
Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.
"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."
And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.
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awearywritersworld · 5 months
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she mumbled that i was peculiar
sukuna x reader summary: impressively, sukuna is still trying to find ways to deny his feelings for you. nevertheless, he keeps you safe from harm when a late night trip to the store doesn't go as planned. will seeing his violent nature for yourself change the way you feel about him? he seems to think so. w/c: 4.2k (oops) tags/warnings: angst to fluff. attempted kidnapping. canon typical violence. depictions of blood. reader throws up. reader is in shock for a bit. cursing. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: i'm sorry this took so long! im ngl, i struggled quite a bit to write this chapter. i'm still unsure about the pacing, but here it is anyway. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! series masterlist // masterlist
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it's not often that you go out for the evening, but tonight is one such occasion. you leave around seven, excited to meet nobara and maki for dinner.
when yuuji falls asleep a few hours later, sukuna doesn't take over right away. he spends a while in his domain, engaging in what some people might call sulking.
before long, however, he begins to feel restless and he tells himself it's because he's grown accustomed to his finite hours of freedom. of course, it has nothing to do with your absence.
so he assumes control of his vessel's body and pulls a short novel from your bookshelf. settling on the couch, his fingertips brush over the cover: the stranger by albert camus
it's the first time he's ever been alone in your apartment, a fact he's well aware of, and his eyes wander to the front door. it'd be all too easy to pull it open, to make his way downstairs and out onto the street.
how long would it last before yuuji regained control? are you nearby? would you get caught up in the havoc he'd doubtlessly wreak?
the thought makes him grimace. returning his focus to the book in his hands, time seems to pass by faster as he makes his way through the pages.
even so, he deems the narrative a bit boring. in his (what's the opposite of humble?) opinion, dead mothers and nagging girlfriends don't make for the most captivating story, so his mind begins to wander once he happens upon the quote:
"so why marry me, then?" she said. i explained to her that it didn't really matter and that if she wanted to, we could get married. besides, she was the one who was doing the asking and all i was saying was yes. then she pointed out that marriage was a serious thing. i said, "no." she stopped talking for a minute and looked at me without saying anything. then she spoke. she just wanted to know if i would have accepted the same proposal from another woman, with whom I was involved in the same way. i said, "sure." then she said she wondered if she loved me, and there was no way i could know about that. after another moment's silence, she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.
sukuna thinks about you— the woman who forced her way into his solitude.
although, what if it hadn't been you? what if the brat had been involved with another woman? would he have eventually taken an interest in her too?
are you really that special, or is he just going crazy inside the cage that is itadori yuuji? the latter is much more likely, right?
he supposes he prefers the idea of madness over... feelings for some human.
all of a sudden, your apartment door seems much more inviting. would it be so bad if he were to step through it? what did he really have to lose?
yeah, that's right. he'll get up any second now and act on every horrible impulse he's been repressing. any second now... any second...
he can't quite figure out why he's unable to bring his limbs to move, weighed down by some force that's beyond him.
it's at that moment the door clicks open and for a split second, he thinks it must be his sign to go, but then you come waltzing in.
"'kuna!" you greet in an excited manner, disrupting the peaceful quiet.
kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you make your way over to him and promptly drop yourself into his lap. it elicits a bout of unwelcome clarity for the king of curses.
no, he wouldn't have taken an interest in just anyone, that much becomes obvious. it wasn't through a medium as flawed as chance that he came to... tolerate you. you're much too annoying for that to be the case.
"hello???" you wave your hand in front of his face. "i'm home."
"i can see that."
"welcome home, darling," you say in a deep voice, a poor imitation of him. "i missed you so much— that's what you're supposed to say."
yeah, definitely too annoying.
"but i didn't miss you." one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh, a betrayal of his preceding assertion.
"you're sitting alone reading—" you pause to inspect the book lying open beside him. "existential fiction about a nihilistic frenchman. of course you missed me."
he changes the topic rather swiftly. "you're drunk."
"i'm tipsy, at best." you roll your eyes. "can't i just be happy to see you?"
"you'd be the first."
"i don't mind making history."
you place a kiss on his lips, casual and affectionate in way that makes sukuna's body stiffen, and stand up.
"i need to get ready for bed, then we're gonna watch tv together because i missed you— gosh, see how easy that was?"
you run off to the bathroom and his body doesn't fully relax until he hears the shower turn on.
the thought of missing someone is a strange notion to him, because it implies eagerness and desire. for as long as he cares to remember, those emotions have been reserved for proclivities much more sinister.
so he hadn't missed you. he just would have preferred it if you stayed home. that's all.
when you return to the living room around fifteen minutes later, you're wearing one of yuuji's shirts, and as far as sukuna can tell, very little otherwise.
making yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs, you pass a hair tie behind you. "can you braid my hair?"
he's watched you get ready for bed enough times that he's fairly certain he can manage it. taking the tie from you, he still asks "why can't you do it?"
"because i'm sleepy," you frown, reaching for the tv remote.
gathering your hair in his hands and carefully dividing it into sections, he sighs. "you require so much looking after."
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"you're not going to die if you can't have cookies tonight." sukuna states dryly, glancing at the clock that reads eleven o'clock.
"please don't trivialize my struggle," you begin, pulling on your jacket. "i want miso butter cookies— my grandma's secret recipe."
most of what you need can be found in the kitchen, but a trip to the store is in order for a few final ingredients.
"my mistake," he huffs, rising to his feet. "how insensitive of me."
"oh, it's alright. just don't let it happen again."
"sure. i'll keep that in mind, princess." sliding the apartment door's chain lock off the track, he does little to hide the vexation in his tone.
just as he reaches for the handle, you stop him and wrap a scarf around his neck, forcing a hoodie into his hands. "put this on. you'll be cold."
he looks at you as if you're crazy. "i don't have to worry about things as insignificant as the weather."
"well, put it on anyway," you insist.
he decides that acquiescing will be easier than arguing for the next five minutes and slips the hoodie over head. when you both step out into the chilly air of night, there are still a decent number of people traveling the streets.
stopping at a crosswalk the next block over, you begin to prattle on about what you need to pick up and the different steps in your recipe. naturally, you completely miss it when the pedestrian sign turns green.
"come on," sukuna commands, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you along with him. "i don't have all night."
you scoff. "to be fair, i didn't say you had to come with me."
"yeah well it's late. you shouldn't be out alone." there's a hint of exasperation in his voice, like he truly had no choice in the matter.
despite that, once you reach the other side of the street, his fingers slide down your palm and thread through yours.
you glance over at him and find he's looking off to the side, so you bite your lip to suppress your pleased smile. is he avoiding your gaze intentionally? you decide that bashfulness suits him better than you would have expected.
offering him a light squeeze of the hand, you hope it conveys your appreciation of his small display of affection.
"so, are you going to help me make the cookies?"
his lips press into a thin line. "as thrilling as that seems, i don't particularly have a penchant for baking."
"you think you'd humor me a little! you know, since i'm your only friend and all."
"if anyone else asked me such a ridiculous question, they wouldn't live to see tomorrow." you ponder whether he's joking and quickly decide that he isn't. "this is me humoring you."
"you're so mean to me."
"hardly."
"fine," you pout. "then you can't have any!"
"now, hold on." the threat does make him hesitate. you've come to learn that if there's one thing he loves as much as reading, it's food. "let's not be hasty."
you're approaching the store, the sliding doors just a few strides away.
"it's only fair! besides, you're not going to die if you can't have cookies," you throw his earlier words in his face.
he exhales deeply. "have i ever told you how irritating you are?"
"woah! now you're definitely not getting any, mister!"
"alright, alright," he groans as you step inside. "i'll help you bake your stupid cookies."
"perfect!" you exclaim as if you knew he'd give in eventually (you did). "then you can start by finding the miso paste while i get everything else!"
you scamper off before he can tell you not to order him around like some common servant. he's never even been grocery shopping, how the hell is he supposed to find anything in here?
wandering the aisles, he stews over how domestic this is. for god's sake— the king of curses, shopping for ingredients and making baked goods. what have you reduced him to?
just as he considers giving up, he spots the item he's looking for and grabs it so aggressively that it knocks a few packets of instant miso soup to the floor. wrinkling his nose in distaste for the entire experience, he sets off looking for you, though his efforts are to no avail.
he wonders where the hell you could have gone off to when a flickering light catches his eye, filling him with a strange sort of unease.
it's emanating from a narrow hallway tucked away in the back corner of the store. at the very edge of the hall, a phone with a familiar case is lying on the floor, the screen shattered.
his blood runs cold, a sensation that is fully unknown to him, and the miso paste slips from his fingers. he appears in the hallway the very next second and the sight that greets him ignites a furious hostility in the center of his being— heavy and consuming.
you're struggling against one man as he drags you out of the backdoor and into an alley. another man is holding the door open, urging his partner to hurry up.
the hand over your mouth keeps you from yelling, but you're unsure you would have been able to make a sound regardless.
one second you're cast into darkness, and the next, the light seems blinding. the flashing is unceasing and it makes your head hurt.
two limbs are wrapped around your torso, keeping you firmly in place, and your arms are trapped at your sides. you might be kicking your legs, but they may just be dragging along too. you really can't be sure.
there's a thrum of a heartbeat at your back. it's pace is unforgiving, the intensity mirroring that of your own. you've a vague concern that your heart may very well beat right out of your chest.
then there's an abrupt shift in the air and a sickening crack echoes through out the night. crumpling onto the concrete, you think it must have started raining before you realize that the droplets on your face are warm.
you wipe at your cheek and your fingers stain crimson, the color matching that of an increasingly large puddle seeping across the pavement beside you.
there's a heap lying a few feet away and you recognize that it's wearing clothes. it's a sight you struggle to make sense of.
needing to focus on something else, your eyes find sukuna and the expression he's wearing is fierce and unreserved. "tell me what you wanted with her."
you've never heard him speak in such a way. his tone is low, his cadence nothing short of threatening.
"s-s'kuna?" your own voice sounds foreign to you and it goes unheard by him.
he has your attacker pressed against the brick wall of the alley, both hands wrapped around his throat. he's too livid to realize the pressure on his windpipe is preventing him from answering.
sukuna throws him to the other side of the alleyway out of frustration, the man rolling onto his back and wheezing to appease his lungs.
"tell me!" sukuna commands again, louder this time. less collected.
the man scrambles away from his looming figure. "th-they sent us, told us they needed her for an important matter."
"who?"
"they'll kill me if i tell you—"
sukuna crouches down, laughing dryly. "and what do you suppose i'm going to do?"
his eyes are almost unrecognizable to you. they're frenzied— a few shades deeper than the scarlet you've grown so fond of.
"you'll k-kill me either way, so at least i'll die with honor—"
"tch. useless." sukuna waves his hand, and you can hardly comprehend what happens right in front of you.
neat red lines appear across the man's body, then it ruptures into nothing at all. the only evidence that he was ever there in the first place is his blood.
the stench of which is perhaps the worst part— intense, coppery, and hot. it makes your eyes water, and before you know it, you're hunched over and emptying the contents of your stomach onto the ground.
sukuna is at your side in an instant, pulling your hair away from your face, but while one of your hands is braced against the concrete, the other endeavors to push him away.
his body doesn't budge at the contact, but he takes a step back anyway in an attempt to respect your wishes.
your mind is a mess filled with racing thoughts— what the fuck? this cannot be happening. what the hell even happened in this first place? that man was there and then he wasn't.
inhaling sharply, you wipe at your mouth and shift to pull your knees to your chest.
"what..." you trail off, surveying the unutterable, incomprehensible scene before you. "what did you do?"
he doesn't respond, though his features noticeably soften. somewhere in the back of your mind, you know very well what he did, but you can't help repeating. "what did you do?"
"we need to leave." it's not that sukuna couldn't handle whoever might show up, but seeing as this is your reaction, he has no desire to. "if you let me touch you, i can take us home."
you take a moment to think about it, then nod wordlessly. as soon as his hand falls on your shoulder, you're met with that same sensation you felt the night gojo teleported you and yuuji home after one too many drinks.
though this time, the sick feeling in your stomach isn't caused by liquor. you don't stand up, you don't so much as move a muscle when you feel the surface beneath you shift from concrete to carpet.
sukuna breathes out your name, his uncertainty evidenced by the way he's shoved his hands into his pockets. meeting his eye, you reiterate the same inquiry once more. "what did you do?"
it's almost as if you want him to tell you that he didn't do anything. that the whole experience was some disturbing nightmare.
"those men would have hurt you."
"that doesn't mean they deserved to die." you choke on the final word.
"yes— it does."
with that, silence hangs in the air like a suffocating miasma.
looking to your hands, you're reminded of the blood you've been spattered with. "i need to wash up."
you still don't move from your spot, too fixated on your flesh and the dreadful hue that it's been painted with. sukuna notices now that you're trembling.
he approaches you hesitantly before extending his hand. "let me help you."
you decline his offer, shying away from him. "i think you've done enough already."
god, the look in your eye is utterly despondent. he struggles to swallow the lump that forms in his throat.
his arm falls limply to his side and he looks across the room, your copy of the stranger earning his attention.
he's overcome with chagrin when he realizes that his concern brought about by camus' quote the other night was wholly misguided. he'd been focused on his own feelings, whether they were genuine or simply wrought by his isolation.
how foolish was he to ever question what you truly mean to him? with the anguish that's settled in his chest at the sight of your current state, the fact he ever doubted it makes him feel like a hopeless idiot.
had he any sense at all, the part that resonated with him would have been—
she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.
disgust. is that what you're feeling now? he's certain it is.
it was just last week that he relayed the story of his past. you're the only person alive to know the truth of how his wickedness came to be, and you met him with unconditional sympathy and understanding.
you pulled him close and embraced him, but now that you've seen him for what he truly is...? you can barely stand to touch him and it's like a knife to his heart.
you're so fucking warm— like the sun against his skin after weeks of endless rain.
and if you're the sun, surely he is the moon— cold and barren on his own, but brilliant when in the presence of your light.
to be without that? to be without you? it's a prospect too terrible for him to bear. it makes his stomach twist miserably.
you're startled (as is he) when his form falls to the floor, his knees meeting the carpet with a dull thud. he calls out your name again, but this time, his voice cracks as he speaks. "please."
he doesn't have a clue what he's even asking for. a chance to explain? forgiveness? a way to turn back time?
you don't say anything, but you do shift your gaze to him. he knows that he needs to fix this, so he wracks his mind for the right words.
"i didn't enjoy killing those men." he's somewhat surprised to find he's telling the truth.
"you didn't?" your voice is so small and timid that he can hardly decipher your words.
"no. my only concern was to keep you safe— to make sure they never put their hands on you ever again. all i felt was rage and... and... guilt. i should have never left you alone and it's my fault—"
"stop," you interrupt him.
there are tears welling in your eyes, making it difficult for sukuna to breathe. he's positive you're going to tell him that his intentions were of little consequence and that you never want to see him ever again.
instead, you push yourself forward and collapse against his body, your own wracked with violent sobs. the reality of the situation is only just now hitting you. it'd been much easier to focus on what sukuna had done, rather than what almost happened to you.
"i was so scared, 'kuna."
and still, despite the way you're clinging to his shirt and burying your face in chest, he's under the impression that it's him you were afraid of.
"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly. "i never meant to frighten you."
"n-not of you. those men." you're struggling to speak in between desperate gasps. "why did they do that? what did they want with me?"
"i don't know." though, he is going to find out.
sukuna is not a man well versed in comfort, so he's not entirely sure why he begins rocking you back and forth, but he does it anyway.
when you finally start to breathe a little easier, he mumbles into your hair, "come on. let's get you cleaned up."
he doesn't give you a chance to respond before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. setting you down on the counter gently, he searches the linen closet for a cloth.
it's quiet, save for your intermittent sniffling, as he runs it under warm water and wrings it out. his free hand moves to rest against the side of your neck and he dabs at the blood on your face, rinsing the washcloth every now and then.
he tries his best not to show it, but sukuna is agonizing over what might be going through your mind.
do you still feel safe with him? have your feelings changed? do you still love him, even when you've been so harshly reminded what he's capable of?
when you speak for the first time your words are hoarse, barely above a whisper. "thank you for saving me, sukuna."
he thinks about telling you not to thank him, not when it shouldn't have happened in the first place. he left your side, an error in judgement he'll never forgive himself for.
he considers your mortality— your weakness— in relation to his feelings for you. he's always seen this exceptionally human quality as despicable.
but now? all it does is terrify him.
"in the past, i was only concerned with my own whims and desires." his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. "though after tonight... you have to know..."
it's clear that he's struggling. his eyebrows draw together and his mouth twitches as he ponders his next words.
"i care about you, angel." his voice is hushed when he adds, "very much."
your eyes widen briefly and you murmur his name, but your mind is still reeling from the events of the past twenty minutes and you can't think of anything more to say. you're emotionally exhausted in a way you would have never thought possible.
it's plain to him too, so he knows his next question is selfish, but he can't go on without knowing. "does what you saw tonight change things between us?"
the silence preceding your answer seems to stretch on forever.
"i thought it would," you confess eventually. it was as if you'd put up a wall in your mind separating sukuna the king of curses from sukuna the man you spend your evenings with.
and it's difficult to reconcile the fact that the hands you saw used to murder two men are the same hands that are caressing your face so delicately.
at some point, however, you realized that the only time you felt fear tonight was when you were without him. his arrival and ensuing actions inspired shock and apprehension, though in some twisted way, you knew it meant you were safe. "but it doesn't."
the next question tumbles from your lips thoughtlessly. "does that make me a bad person?"
he chuckles and some of the tension in the room dissipates. "i think i'm the last one on earth that can pass moral judgement on you."
he tucks your hair behind your ear and scans your face, relief coursing through his body when he sees you smile. in this moment, there isn't anything else in the world he would have asked for.
"i guess you're right."
and now, the hand over your mouth is your own, an attempt to stifle your tired giggles. the light of the bathroom is warm and steady. sukuna's hands rest atop your hips, his touch firm but comforting. while you can't feel your own heartbeat, you're positive it must be beating in time with his.
when you crawl into bed that night sukuna pulls you close, your back pressed to his bare chest. you're thankful for the softness of his demeanor, because you need it tonight more than ever.
he doesn't recede to his domain until yuuji wakes up the following morning. he's determined to keep an eye on you as you sleep, to watch the slow rise and fall of your chest with newfound gratitude.
he knows he needs to speak with the brat about what happened. someone is after you and while he hates to admit it, he knows he can't ensure your safety alone.
and he will keep you safe, no matter the cost.
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thehighladywrites · 5 months
Text
— “tell me you’re mine.” “ i’m yours.”
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☀︎ — pairing: azriel x afab!reader
☀︎ — summary: you dream that azriel was cheating on you and now you can’t look at him without being annoyed. It’s not really his fault, but still… azriel reassures you, promising that you’re the only one for him.
☀︎ — warnings: a sprinkle of angst, fluff, a bit of crack, smut, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dirty talk, fluffy smut ngl, mentions of crying, cursing, mentions of hickeys and bruises
☀︎ — amara’s note: i loved writing this, also this is my apology fluff fic for the angst fic. hope you liked it! also english isn’t my first language so if you see any grammar errors, no you didn’t 🫶🏽 i think this is my proudest work🥹
tags: @callmeblaire @rowaelinsdaughter @azrielslightintheshadows @hauntedwitch04
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Azriel’s brows furrowed as you avoided his hug for the second time today and just walked past him, acting like he wasn’t more than a ghost. This whole brushing him off thing had been going on all day and he was genuinely confused. Were you in a bad mood? Was your cycle coming? Azriel knew you were emotional during this time, but you usually stuck to him like glue.
He checked his mental calendar - no, not for another two months.
Did he say something to you? He replayed everything he said and every conversation you had yesterday and today but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Well, except for the fact that you were flat out ignoring him.
Azriel felt distressed over the fact that you ignored him, and he just wanted to be closer to calm down. Knowing he might have upset you, deeply unsettled him, prompting a strong desire to bridge the emotional gap between you.
Azriel found solace in your presence whenever he felt upset. You'd sprawl on the plush bed, arms open wide, inviting him into your embrace with a soft and tender expression. His head would rest on your chest, settling his weight on you, comforted by the beat of your calming heartbeat. It was a sweet sanctuary he sought when the world felt heavy.
There was nothing calm or sweet about the way you didn't spare him a second look, pouting as you carried on with your day. Occasional dagger stares shot his way, and even though you thought he didn't notice, he did. Of course, he did. The tension in the air was palpable as your silent discontent lingered.
Azriel decided to start small and ask an easy question, not daring to accidentally say something that will set you off.
“So, angel, what have you done while I was gone? Is the book you picked out yesterday any good?”
Sipping on the delightful peppermint tea, you huffed and snorted, keeping your gaze fixed on the window from the comfort of the soft sofa in the sitting room.
“Well, wouldn’t you just love to know?”
His brain was scrambled at this point, desperately attempting to save the clearly and very obviously dying conversation.
“Uh, yes? I’d love to know. If you don’t want to talk about the book then that’s fine but-”
“You’re just giving up so easy, Azriel. Atleast fight a bit. No wonder you cheated on me…”
Huh? What the actual fuck?? Confused and shocked, his brain went haywire, jaw dropping as he struggled to find words. A bewildered look crossed his face as he grappled with the unexpected situation.
He cheated on you? What were you talking about? The mere thought of being near another woman made him nauseous. Really, he didn’t like being around people at all, so the thought of going out of his way to find someone and then invite them to bed was something that made him shiver.
“What are you saying? I would never be unfaithful to you, please let’s just talk.” he dropped to his knees infront of you, panicked, trying to find the words to explain himself and to clear his name of something he didn’t do.
“You cheated on me. Yeah, with some blonde girl. And you seemed to enjoy it, too. Ugh, I’m so pissed, I can’t even look at you.” You put down your teacup a bit too hard as you folded your arms over your chest, glaring out the window in silent anger.
The crackling of the hearth was the only sound as Azriel's face paled. He was at a loss – how did you come to believe he was unfaithful? Where did these thoughts come from? The mystery hung in the air, a palpable tension challenging the warmth of the fireplace.
“If I truly was unfaithful, can you provide details? When did this happen, and where was I with this girl?” You felt his pleading, questioning stare burn into you from where he knelt.
Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t keep this up. He didn’t actually cheat on you. It was a dream but it felt so realistic that when you woke up and saw him besides you, you actually snarled. There you were, struggling to look at him without mentally replaying the scene of some random woman giving Azriel's body a tour. Fucking hell, you had never felt such betrayal and hurt by something that didn’t even happen.
But it felt silly to tell Azriel that you were mad at him for something your subconscious created , a dream you had dreamt. So you simply avoided him instead.
But damn, he was persistent.
Perhaps it was irrational, but you felt a desire to stir up some drama, maybe hoping to shake things up a bit.
“Okay, Azriel, I’ll spill. Yesterday at Rita’s, this blonde woman was all over you, touching everywhere. And you, shamelessly soaked it up like it was a spa. In my dream you also smiled as you held eye contact with me. You totally knew I saw you and did it anyways.” You looked away, breathing deeply as the memories invaded your mind.
Azriel felt a combination of relief and disbelief as you revealed it was all a dream. But he wouldn’t downplay what you imagined since he deep down felt your hurt through the bond. You had already been married for decades but the bond had snapped about 7 months, still new, so he understood that seeing him with someone else was hard. Hell, he’d feel absolutely murderous if he ever dreamt of some male feeling you up and fucking you, even if it was a dream.
He stood up as he dragged you to your feet and tilted his head, assessing if he should approach you or not,
“Sweetheart, you know I'd never do such a thing, right? How could I ever be unfaithful to you, my sweet girl? You're my perfect mate, my loving wife, my everything.”
He stepped closer and closer until his enticing scent enveloped you. Oh, how did you go an entire day without being close to him? Your mate towered over you, gently gripping your chin and tilting your head up. His face mere centimeters away, a magnetic force pulling you into a moment that blurred any lingering doubts.
“ I love you more than anything on this planet. In no universe would I ever stray away from you - you’re my beloved home, my cauldron fated. Over my dead body would I ever entertain another woman. I’ve waited for over half a millennium for you and I’d wait a million more for just a minute with you, sweetheart. I will never allow myself to disrespect you like that ever, I promise.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as he drew closer, his soft lips meeting yours. In that moment, your love for him overwhelmed everything else. His gentle kiss offered reassurance and warmth, the sting of the bargain tattoo fading into the background as he continued, sending shivers down your spine.
Needing one last push of reassurance you beg him for a last sentence. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you whisper,
“Say you’re mine. Say you belong to me.”
"I'm yours, I belong to you. Just as you're mine, you belong to me."
Tears streamed down as your heart raced, overwhelmed by his sincere devotion to you.
He wiped away your tears gently, his eyes filled with unwavering affection. “No more doubts, my love. We're bound to each other, and I'll spend every moment proving my devotion to you.”
His words hung in the air, creating a comforting embrace that removed any lingering insecurities, even ones in dreamscapes.
You slumped in his arms, finding solace in the embrace of his huge arms. He held you tightly, rocking you gently from side to side, creating a soothing rhythm. Your tears dried, replaced by a sense of calm as the only audible sound became the steady beat of his heart. Inhaling his calming scent, you grounded yourself in the reassurance of your mate's embrace.
Azriel tenderly stroked your hair, his touch a gentle reassurance. In a heartfelt moment, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline, expressing his love and commitment without the need for words.
Your heart swelled with love, the connection through your bond overflowing with overwhelming warmth. The excess energy and love pulsated between you two, prompting you to contemplate a way to reciprocate the comfort and love to Azriel.
Lifting your head from its resting place on his chest, you stood on your tiptoes and initiated a kiss. Your arms remained cradled by him, your head guiding the motion as you continued to share this affectionate moment with your husband.
Azriel noticed the quickening beat of your heart, your eyes fluttering as the kiss deepened. He knew what you wanted and he couldn’t deny you ever. His lucious lips curving into a smile. You did your best to keep eye contact with him but it was difficult given that Azriels eyes had darkened over with lust, pupils expanding as his lids were slightly lowered.
Staring him dead in the eyes you whispered your desires,
“I want you. I want you everywhere. I want your mouth.”
You placed a kiss on his cheek.
“I want your hands.”
You kissed his other cheek.
“ I want you inside me, mate. “
You gave him a final kiss on the lips, sealing your wishes.
Azriel let his eyes flutter shut, struggling to tame his desires. He knew you inside and out, knew exactly what pace and setting you craved in that moment. Bending down to your level, Azriel picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom.
As Azriel carried you to the bedroom, you couldn't resist planting tender kisses along his neck, sucking and biting as you created bruises. The soft touch of your lips added a playful warmth to the moment and you couldn’t help staring up at him. His handsome features captivated you – the straight nose, sharp jaw, and beautiful eyes. He looked as if The Mother Herself had carefully carved him. His long, dark lashes and perfectly shaped brows added an extra layer to the masterpiece that was Azriel.
A possessive pride swelled within you. As you continued trailing kisses along his neck, you couldn't help but revel at the fact that Azriel was undeniably yours. A sense of exclusivity and fierce protectiveness filled your mind, boasting that no one would ever touch him the way you did, no one would ever love him the way you did.
‘Suck on that you blonde bitch’ was all you could smugly think.
Azriel gently placed you in front of the full-length mirror by your bed, positioning himself behind you. With deliberate care, he bent down, pressing kisses to your head, temple, ear, cheek, and finally, lingering on your neck. Each kiss was an expression of affection, creating a trail of shivers along your spine and arms.
His hands slid down to your waist, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze. The slow, deliberate touch made the moment feel personal and intimate. You make eye contact with your husband through the mirror and slightly nod, giving him permission to continue.
You step back, making him feel your ass through his pants, grinding against him as his hands travel up to your breasts. Azriel lightly squeezes them before moving to play with your stiffened nipples. His moves elicit a gasp from you as you revel at the feeling of him touching you.
You press against him again, this time harder. Azriel hisses as he lightly grab your neck with one hand, focusing his clouded eyes on yours through the mirror.
“Watch it. This is about you, not me, baby.” He unzips your dress, letting it pool around your feet. Instinctively you bring your hands up to cover yourself up, looking away, and realizing that you’re in fact completely stark naked infront of your fully dressed mate.
Azriel is having none of it. He wants you to see how beautiful you are. Wants you to see how your face twist in pleasure. Wants you to notice your little quirks that you otherwise wouldn’t see. He wants you too see the goddess he’s worshipping every day.
“Eyes open, sweetheart. You have to see how beautiful you look.” His hands envelops yours as he lowers your hands, leaving you bare infront of him. You hear rustling behind you and feel a sudden warmth pressing against your back. Opening your eyes, you see Azriel undressed with his warm chest pressed against your back. He looked massive, wings splayed proudly behind him, big arms flexing as he leaned down. His lips pressed against your ear, and the hot breath sent shivers down your spine.
“You’re my perfect girl. Look at you, all nice and ready for me. Now, imagine I see this everyday, imagine you laying under me, taking me like a good girl. That’s what you are right, a good girl?”
You nod absentmindedly as your mind goes blank. You just wanna make him proud of you, just wanna please him. “Uh-huh ‘m your good girl, Azzie.”
He flashes you a smirk, hands traveling further down as he teases your clit before pushing in his finger. You let out a sound of pleasure as your head slumps back into his chest, his massive hand wrapping around your throat. In and out his fingers go as your pleasure rises, blood heating at the thought of him fucking you on the bed later. Your breathing unevens when he twists his fingers and presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushes in another finger.
Your eyes cross in delight when he curls his fingers and hits that spot that sends electricity through your body, making you grab onto his built forearm. Azriel whispers promises of nasty scenes, promises of ways he’ll fuck you stupid. He’ll make sure you’ll never think he’d stray away from you. He’d prove himself forever if that’s what it took for the thoughts to leave your head forever.
Not sure what the mood is today, you ask him for permission to come. If you normally did it without asking, he’d edge you. And that was just not something you wanted to happen today so better safe than sorry. But before you gather your pleasured mind and ask him, Azriel beats you to it.
“Cum on me. Let go on my fingers, beautiful. It’s okay baby, you deserve it. Don’t you think? After all, my girl gets what she wants.”
As if his words triggered something in you, he pumps once, twice and you let go as you scream out his name. Azriel keeps fingering you through your high, looking you deep into your eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them.
“Delicious.”
Your ears ring, and your vision blur as your knees wobble, nearly falling. Azriel swiftly picks you up, planting a reassuring kiss. He praise you, telling you how good you were and how proud he was. You couldn’t think straight, only wanting more of him.
He placed you gently on the bed, preparing to head to the bathroom for a cloth to clean you up, but you halted him with a request.
“Can I repay you Azzie?”
Your eyes sparkled, and your face glowed with a content smile. With a tilted head and a subtle pout, you hoped he would agree to your request. You were quite tired but you so badly wanted to please him back.
He sensed your exhaustion, and originally he was so supposed to keep going but you were half asleep. He changed his plans and shook his head.
“You’re tired, angel. Rest up, I’ll be fine.”
But you kept resisting, urging and pushing that you weren’t that tired. And since Azriel can’t say no to you, he accepts. You let out a small victorious sound and slither down the bed, making room for Azriel as he settled against the headboard. You moved in closer to him, leaning forward and arching your back. You look up at him once for confirmation and continue when he nods.
Without hesitation, Azriel's hands found their way into your hair, stroking your hair softly before skillfully gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. You fall on your forearms, propping yourself up and obediently await for his words of command.
Azriel gently gripped your chin, his thumb grazing your plump bottom lip. In that moment, words were unnecessary; you already understood what he wanted.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” His words makes you blush.
You look away from his intense eyes and lower your gaze, pulling a chuckle from him. “Baby, stop. You’re making me nervous,” you plead, giving him a cheesy smile you kiss his thigh and move on.
Trying to hide your flustered face, you start out slowly, teasing him with kitten licks all over his tip. Azriel’s hands tightened around your hair making you look up at him with a smirk as he grits out,
“Play later.”
You suck on the head, hollowing your cheeks, before slowly taking in more and more, struggling when you feel him hit the back of your throat. Your mind replays the lessons Azriel taught you, prompting you to inhale through your nose.
His head thrown back against the headboard as his mind swirls with pleasure. He lets out groans and hisses of pleasure, his deep voice letting out praises,
“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.”
“You’re doing so good, keep going.”
“My beautiful, beautiful y/n. You should look like this all the time, mouth full of my cock. Wouldn’t that be something?”
Your mates praise makes your eyes gloss over in submission. There was really no better feeling than being praised and loved by him. Your Azriel.
By the way the muscles in his thighs started tensing you knew he was getting close. You suck your cheeks in more and take him deeper, trying to please him as best as possible. 
The room was filled with obscene noises and gags as he hit the back of your throat, bucking his hips.
Pulling away, you use your hand and twist it around his shaft while sucking on the sensitive head. Determined to make him finish, you throw in a few sentences you know will get him there faster.
“you’re so big Azzie, taste delicious too.”
“does my mouth feel good around your cock, az? you wanna cum?”
“let’s see if my pussy feels better, yeah?”
Before you can put him back around your mouth, he grabs your arms and drags you up so that you’re straddling his lap. Without warning he pushes you down on his cock as you let out a loud moan at the stretch.
“You’re right, your pussy does feel better.”
Your hands automatically grab onto his broad shoulders as you grind and bounce on him. You tighten around him as he brings his fingers down to your clit. Looking down on him, you find him smirking, satisfied that he caught you off guard. He knew you didn’t really plan on riding him but you were not fucking complaining.
Quite the opposite actually. You sounded like some deprived whore, moaning and babbling out in pleasure, licking and biting his neck and lips.
Both of you knew you were close. Azriel breathing quickened as you tightened around him.
“Tell me you’re mine.” A soft whimper escapes you as you gaze down at your man. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead, a rosy blush adorning his cheeks and neck. In his eyes, full of love and affection, as he whispers for the second time today that he's yours forever.
“I’m yours, forever baby, I’m yours.” Azriel chants as he comes, body trembling as you grind on him,soon falling off your high and slumping against his chest.
“I love you so much, honey,” you whispered.
You looked up at him, tears welling up as Azriel held you close, making you feel overwhelmed by the depth of love. The connection between you was an unbreakable thread, weaving through your souls. In his embrace, every touch and shared moment became a testament to the bond you shared. The room faded away as your love for Azriel became an emotional beacon, each tear carrying the weight of countless cherished memories.
Oh, how you loved him.
In the quiet of the moment, Azriel gently wiped away your tears, his eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion.
“I love you too, sweetheart” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your overwhelmed heart.
The reassurance in his words melted away the pain, leaving only the warmth of shared love.
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seeingivy · 9 months
Text
blessing
megumi fushiguro x gn!reader
you and fushiguro talk about names
content: nothing, light mentions of blood
an: your consolation prize - a megumi draft while I edit you belong with me gojo. if your name has a meaning, im sorry it doesn't anymore.
--
“Do you think names are important, Megumi?” 
Megumi flutters his eyes open and squints in the dark to direct his gaze to you. You’re splayed right against his bare chest, nimble fingers drawing indiscernible shapes onto his skin. He knows you can’t sleep after missions, which is the only reason he allows your needless rambling at four in the morning. 
“Is this another of those angel sign things Nobara taught you?” he groans, lifting a hand to place it in your hair, the smell of your strawberry shampoo wafting into his space. 
“It’s angel numbers and astrology signs.” you respond, lightly nudging him with your elbow.
“That stuff isn’t real.” 
“Maybe not Megs, but it’s fun to think about.” 
You look over at him and Megumi can feel his heart thumping in his chest, your expectant eyes staring at him as you wait for a response. And he hates that your stupid eyes always make him give in. 
“Okay, fine. Tell me.” 
You grin and readjust yourself so you’re propped up on his chest, so you can get the perfect vantage point of the grumpy face he’s going to make at you. 
“Some people think names have power. Like, depending on what the meaning of your name is, that can affect how you act and who you are and stuff.” 
He frowns, reaching forward to flick you on the forehead, before grabbing your hand and resting your knuckles against his lips. 
“So you’re saying, if we named our kid asshole, he’d be an asshole?” 
“Our kid would be an asshole because you have an attitude problem. Not because we named him asshole.” 
He rolls his eyes, reaching forward to pinch your cheeks. 
“But think about it, Megs. For example, Yuu’s name means relaxed and caring. Don’t you think that fits him?” 
“Itadori is anything but relaxed, Y/N.” 
“Okay, well. It’s half true. Nobara means thorny. Doesn’t that compliment her cursed technique?” 
“Uh huh. I still don’t buy it.” 
“Or Gojo-sensei. Satoru means understanding, like enlightenment. He’s literally the strongest sorcerer.” 
Megumi wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you up closer to burrow his face into your neck. He loves the smell of your shampoo, of your flowery perfume - but loves it even more when he can smell it on himself the next day. 
“You talk too much, Y/N.” 
“Do you know what your name means Megumi?” 
“No. I’ve never really thought about it.” 
“Your name means blessing.” 
Megumi has never wondered about his name or what it means. All he knows is that when he was younger his dad and Tsumiki’s mom disappeared one day, leaving the two of them alone. That is until Gojo showed up. 
And unlike you, he’s never really thought about these things. Star signs, Enneagram personality types, birth charts, angel numbers. According to you, they’re little signs - from the celestials, the universe, something out there bigger than you two. 
Granted, he knows you’re being silly. That you don’t really believe it. But he can’t help but wonder. If his parents saw him and picked out the perfect name. Or if they saw a baby book and closed their eyes and pointed till they found one they liked. If they named him blessing, because they thought he was one. 
If they were intentional in their love for him, like you have been for the past year, the two of you have been dating. You leave a glass of water on his nightstand, so he makes sure to drink water in the morning. Pick up his drycleaning when you’re on your way home, insisting that it’s no trouble and you’re already there. Tell him to throw pennies in fountains and make a wish just because. 
“I think it fits perfectly, Megs.” you whisper, tracing a little star onto the side of his arm. 
He doesn’t respond, his blue eyes focused on the ceiling above you too. 
“I just mean. Gojo-sensei was probably really lonely after everything that happened with Getou. But you were around and he had you with him, so he wasn’t really lonely. And-and I know Yuuji appreciates being here with you and that he really admires you. Nobara too and-” 
“Y/N.” 
You think back to the mission, earlier today. And it keeps replaying through your mind, every time it’s quiet enough to think about it. 
You let your guard down for a few seconds. A few seconds too many because when you and Yuuji turned around, he was on the floor - thick, red blood spilling out of his forehead. And really, if you weren’t busy discussing what souvenirs to buy on the way out, if you were paying attention, maybe you wouldn’t be the one dragging him back to Shoko’s and watching from a distance with such an intense guilt that it made your stomach burn. 
“I think you’re a blessing too, y’know? Maybe I don’t say it all the time, but I do. I guess it’s just hard to say how you feel sometimes when…I don’t know, we could die tomorrow Megs and-”
Megumi brings his hand back up to your hair, brushing through the tangles at the back as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You know Megumi. His hand in your hair - to drop it, to let it go. The kiss on your head - that he’s already looked past what happened. 
“What does your name mean, Y/N?” 
“Dunno. Couldn’t really find it in the books or anything.” 
--
You wake up to the left side of the bed empty, the mattress cold and missing a Megumi shaped space. His glass has been drained on the nightstand, meaning he’d probably left already for breakfast. You quickly pad back to your own dorm and pull your uniform on, before joining them all for breakfast. 
You join the three of them at the desk - already loudly arguing about god knows what. You place a hand on Megumi’s shoulder as you slide into the seat next to him, granting you a small smile from him. He places a hand on your thigh and squeezes, another one of Megumi’s silent messages. 
You’re okay. 
Nobara and Yuuji are holding up the name book you had looked at the day prior, Nobara pinching the end of his ear as they argue. 
“This name thing isn’t true. You’re full of shit.” Yuuji complains, pushing the book towards you and Megumi. 
You open up the book, already open to Yuuji’s name at the end of the book. 
“Who the fuck said I thought it was true? It’s just fun to look at.” Nobara responds.
“Well, why did you bring it up? You’re acting like you’re connected with some celestial body shit but you’re just making stuff up.” Yuji responds, standing up. 
The three of them stand up, packing up their things as they get ready to head to training on the field with the second years. You’re still stuck on the book - flipping through to check everyone’s names. Gojo, Shoko, Toge, Maki. 
As you flip through the pages, you note a dark indentation on one of the pages in the middle, and quickly try to flip through to find it again. 
“You coming?” Megumi asks, bag slung over his shoulder at the door. 
“Yeah. I’m coming, give me a second.” 
The three of them shrug as they walk out, their incessant chattering still heard from the window outdoors. You finally find the page and the dark blotches of writing at the bottom. 
Someone’s written in the book, with a black marker. You recognize the handwriting immediately, Megumi’s freakishly neat handwriting inscribed in the book. 
Y/N. Meaning: love or warmth. 
You quickly shut the book and run out, where the three of them are already walking to class. Nobara and Yuuji are now peering over her phone, looking at god knows what, which you take as your opportunity to grab Megumi and lightly drag him back. 
“Megs.” 
“Hm?” 
“Did you write in the book?” 
He rolls his eyes, lightly nudging you with his elbows, as you guys keep walking on. 
“No. I didn’t.” 
“Yes. You did. I know your handwriting, idiot.” 
“No. I didn’t. And even if I did, so what? The book was missing your name.” he responds, pinching his eyebrows as he looks at you.
“Okay. So you did write in it. But you can’t just give my name a meaning, we don’t even know if that’s true.” 
“All words have made up meanings. If someone came up to us and told us that trees are actually called birds, we’d start calling them birds.” 
“Okay but-” 
“I decided. That’s what your name means. Because that’s what you are. Now, be quiet and focus on training.” he responds.
He drops your hand and walks past, stretching in between Nobara and Maki as the group of them start stretching out. He looks over and gives you a soft smile, the one he only reserves for you, and you can only think that you truly are blessed, to be loved by someone like him.
--
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pedantic-poison · 9 months
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golden | MS47
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GIF by brawn-gp
pairing: black cat gf! fem reader x golden retriever bf! mick schumacher
warnings: fluff! and also a brief but very explicit mention of oral (f receiving) and p in v (oops lol)
requested: yes!
word count: 0.9k
author's note: second time posting this because the first time it didn't show up in the tags at all so thanks for that tumblr! anyways yes this IS so extremely inspired by the song daylight by taylor swift not that anyone asked but the second i read the request i couldn't help it
you'd met at a party, where you'd been standing quietly in a corner, drink in your hand, content to just mind your business without talking to anyone until you'd been there long enough that you wouldn't feel bad leaving
it was some friend's birthday, not close enough that you had to spend most of the night with them, but you like them enough to make an appearance, even though you hated parties
Mick, golden boy that he is, was the center of attention without really meaning to be
talking to everyone like they were an old friend he'd known for years, and at some point he looked up and realized that you were the only person in the room who he hadn't spoken to
he didn't even know your name, actually
and he couldn't help himself, he was just too curious, and he thought you were so gorgeous, he figured it was better to just go talk to you than to stare at you with heart eyes from across the room
Mick is such a sunshine boy that even when other people sometimes find you a little standoffish, when he first saw you, he just adored you right away
wasn't intimidated by you at all he was just completely enamored
initially, you were a little overwhelmed by him, kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop and show that it was an act
how sweet he was, how kind, how considerate, the way he would listen to you so intently, like the moment you opened your mouth to finally speak the rest of the world faded away
you just couldn't believe that he was being genuine, that he really cared about you that way
but the look on his face when he's watching you is so earnest
he didn't mind that at first you weren't very talkative, or that it took a little while for you to really trust that his affection for you was real
besides, he can talk enough for the both of you anyways
you finally had to confront just how much you cared about him because of the shit show with Haas
more than once Mick had to talk you down from personally fighting G*nter on his behalf
and once you finally let those walls down and let him in? Mick was stuck to you like glue
he'd come home, or back to your shared hotel room, after a long day during race weekends and just collapse onto you, laying his head on your chest while you'd scratch his head or his back
he fell asleep like that, on top of you, more than a few times
sometimes you weren't really sure what to do or say, but Mick would just assure you that you were making him feel better, that you were doing everything right, even when he was the one who needed comfort
and when you have a bad day at work or school?
that man pampers you like a princess
he literally will not let you do ANYTHING for yourself
and you don't even have to tell him that you had a rough day, he can just see it in your face the moment you walk through the door
he gives you these mini lectures about asking for help when you need it, reminding you that you help him when he has a tough time, and that it's only fair for him to get to return the favor
if you ever try to tell him that he's already so sweet to you, all the time, he won't hear it
just ushers you towards the couch or bed with your favorite blanket in hand
he'll have you lie back against his chest, nestled in between his legs, so he can wrap his arms around you and hold you to him, tight and comforting
whispering sweet nothings into your ear, planting kisses on the top of your head
bubble baths, your favorite foods and shows, holding your book in front of your face for you so your arms don't get tired, kissing the back of your neck or your shoulder each time he turns the page
supporting your body with his as he finger fucks you until you're shaking, caging you in with those big, buff arms and his warm body, your legs draped over his so he can keep them open for him, surrounding you and overwhelming all of your senses, so all you can feel or think of is him, his free hand roaming your body, massaging your tits and reaching up to cradle your throat so he can tilt your head back to give him better access
or making you ride his face so you can make yourself feel good, until you've cum so many times and so hard that you can barely see straight, and then fucking you into the mattress, deep and slow, whispering words of praise about how you're doing so well for him, how you feel so good, looking so pretty while you take his cock like a good girl
when you're overthinking and can't stop worrying about something, and his usual pampering tricks don't work, he'll just fuck you dumb, make you go mindless with pleasure so that you can't think period
he hates having to be away from you for race weekends, even now that he's with mercedes and isn't fighting for his life every weekend
even when you're both busy, he'll always manage to make time for you, dropping in and surprising you, even if it's only for a few days before he's off to the next track
he's also completely immune to any of your usual attempts at self-sabotage
he doesn't let you lash out at him or start fights or have huge blow out arguments
he just wants to give you the whole world
and you just want him
because his love isn't black and white, or burning red
it's golden
like daylight
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You’re Losing Me
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Prompt - ‘Every morning I glared at you with storms in my eyes. How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying?’
Notes -  I won’t lie I don’t know if House still has an active fandom but I just started watching it so have this, also the way this song was leaked like four hours ago and I immediatly jumped to google docs
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It seemed impossible when you had first realised how you felt, falling in love with a man twice your age, a man who was your boss no less, it had been an impossibly bad, stupid idea. You hadn’t planned on acting on it, the man was meant to be your mentor but he was so unlike anybody you had ever met before, so bluntly honest, never beating around the bush, there was something so charmingly arrogant about how that you just couldn’t help but like.
So it went on for months, months where you silently pined for him, sneaking glances at him as he watched his soaps in his office, stealing moments together as he pulled you into an empty room as he avoided clinic duty and instead quizzed you on the latest patient. You had hoped that ignoring how you felt would just make your feelings go away, make you realise this was just a silly crush and yet nothing ever changed.
Nothing changed until the man started seeking you out more, he started to look to you first for answers, it was you he found first to talk about cases or music or whatever else came to his mind. He wasn’t open but he did begin sharing little pieces of himself with you, nothing overly personal to most people but when it was Gregory House sharing those tidbits they felt big, they felt important, like it was this closed off man's way of trying to open himself up, to give something in return for all you shared with him.
You knew as you spent more time with him that it wasn’t just a silly crush anymore, it wasn’t just some admiration that had gotten out of hand, you were falling for the man and you tried not to let yourself hope that he was falling for you too. Then you’d see him talking to Wilson, the two of them sat together, Wilson looking hopeful whilst House frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together before both their gazes found you and his frown turned into a small twitch of the lips.
Neither of you acted on it for a while but the pining and the tension eventually became too much for both of you. You couldn’t exactly say who snapped first, only that the case you had been working had lasted for an exhaustingly long week and you were both pent up with far too many emotions, add the bottle of something strong from his office and it wasn’t a surprise when you found yourself pressed against the wall with House’s lips on yours.
From there on nothing had been defined for a month or two, you both spent more time together, slept together, went for meals together, yet nothing was ever defined. It had driven you crazy, not knowing if House wanted something more from you or if you were simply a way to burn off steam after work.
Eventually you had given into your need to know, waiting until you were alone, you pulled against his chest, tucked up in bed together. You hadn’t been able to get the words out, mouth opening and closing, your fingers distractedly playing with him as you tried to collect your thoughts.
House never missed anything though and if he could read other people well without ever needing to meet them then he could read you like the words of his favourite book. He had been the one to start the conversation, telling you to say whatever you needed to say and listening as you stammered out the question of what were you.
House had paused, it wasn’t like he wasn’t expecting it, of course he had been waiting for it and yet he still had to pause. He had to remember all his conversations with Wilson, the ones where he had promised to give this a real go because his feelings were real. It wasn’t easy, he had closed himself off for years, never letting himself get attached, never letting himself fall.
Of course you came along and ruined that but he had never been able to find it in himself to be mad. He was glad it was you he got to try again with, he was glad it was you who showed him that he wasn’t totally ruined.
He may not have understood why you wanted to be with a man twice your age, a man who was explosive and closed off, a man who needed drugs just to make it through a day, a man who was so far beyond damaged he couldn’t remember a time he had been whole. He didn’t understand it but he wasn’t taking it for granted.
He told you as much and you let yourself fall a bit more for him at the honesty, at the trust he had given you. From there on, you hated how cliched it sounded, but everything just seemed to have fallen into place.
You went out together and called them dates, House let himself relax, stopped analysing every word he said, stopped debating whether he was enough for you and instead let himself slowly open himself up to you. You hadn’t been hurt the way House had, sure your last relationship had broken you for a while but you were trusting House to not do the same, you didn’t have the same insecurities so whilst you fell first it took House a little longer but he fell in love with you too.
It was good for the first few years, not perfect because nothing was ever perfect. You worked together and you went home together, sometimes that was too much, sometimes a case was too much and you couldn’t leave it at the door, instead dragging it in and letting it linger but everything always resolved itself, everything was good.
You fell hard and so did he. You moved into his place even after he offered to find somewhere else but you had just smiled at him and told him his house felt like home and you’d love to move in with him.
You couldn’t say how many nights had been spent with the two of you on his sofa, his arms wrapped around you with you against his chest, holding you close as you spoke softly to one another, how many nights had been spent listening to him play the piano that sat in the corner or listening to music filling the room after a long day where no words were needed.
It was good.
So where had things started to fall apart? When had that love turned into something else, something that seemed more for show than anything else. When had you gone from sitting in bed as House read aloud, the lamp lighting the room with a soft orange glow before the two of you drifted off in each other’s arms to you staying awake long after House had fallen asleep, staring into the silence and wondering what had happened, wondering if time was running out for you.
It had started with little things, things you hadn’t even noticed until months later. He brushed you off more, not just at work but outside too, suddenly your opinion didn’t seem as important. Then it escalated to him cancelling plans which evolved into him forgetting to cancel plans, leaving you sitting alone in a crowded restaurant, having to keep the tears out of your eyes as you left realising you’d been stood up again.
It was when the sympathetic looks came that you couldn’t bear it, not from the strangers around you but from Cameron, Foreman and Chase. Each of them had warned you away from him at the start, told you House just wasn’t a relationship guy but you had ignored them and it was worth it, it had been worth it for the best years of your life.
Their sympathetic looks hurt, they could see something wasn’t right but their’s weren’t the one that cut deep. That honour belonged to Wilson. House trusted that man more than anyone and to see his fond looks turn sad and sympathetic, that’s when it hurt.
The only person who couldn’t seem to see that things were falling apart was House himself. The man who notices everything, the man who sees the smallest thing and pieces together an entire puzzle without any other parts, the man who spots and obsesses over every anomaly failed to notice how tired you were. He failed to see the way you were sick, sick of being tired, sick of feeling unwanted, sick of questioning what you had done and why you weren’t good enough and where things had gone wrong and why he didn’t love you anymore.
You were sick and he couldn’t see it or maybe he just wouldn’t admit it. He still said the words I love you even as you frowned, wondering how he could so easily say those words when he couldn’t even see you in front of him, couldn’t see how you were dying from how much everything hurt.
How did he miss the pain and anger and grief in your eyes as you glared at him in the morning, him so easily going about his day whilst he ignored you, gave you a little bit but never what he used to. He smiled and joked in front of everybody, the others whilst knowing something was wrong never knowing the extent because not even House seemed to realise what was happening.
It had been years and you had wanted so much more with him, you wanted to give him everything and yet House seemed content stuck where you were, happy to stay frozen in time. You wanted to beg him, fall to your knees and plead with him to do something, to see that he was losing you despite how badly you had always wanted him.
It felt like your heart was twisting and stuttering, sometimes beating too quickly that you were afraid it was going to push you over the edge and sometimes beating so slowly you thought you were already dead.
You wanted him to notice, you needed him to notice, to do something to fix it. He was a doctor, he was the one who always noticed everything, focusing and giving it his attention until the problem was fixed but when he looked at you he didn’t see a problem because these days he never looked for long enough.
The thing was House had always been the one to understand you, to know what you were thinking without you ever needing to vocalise it, he used to be able to take one look and understand everything about you. Now though it was like you were a stranger to him.
You didn’t want to lose him, you didn’t want to be in a world where you didn’t love him anymore but you were tired and drained and just sad. Sure you may still fall asleep in the same bed but he never pulled you into him anymore, suddenly all the songs that he played sounded infinitely sadder and you nearly laughed at how you felt like those songs, becoming sadder and sadder as each day passed.
You had given him so much, you had never complained once about the drugs, accepting that was who he was, you had never given a second thought to his leg even when he tried to use it as an excuse to keep you from loving him, you loved his personality where most people struggled to even accept it.
You had given him the best of you and now it felt like everything was too far gone to bring back to life.
“Can I talk to you?” You asked softly as you stepped into House’s office, already having spoken to Cuddy and knowing you were doing what was best for you even if you did feel like your heart had exploded in your chest.
“Little busy right now.” He told you, barely taking his eyes away from the board in front of him, sparing you half a glance and missing the way your eyes were teary and red. “Can it wait?”
You took a shaky breath, wanting him to notice, wanting him to realise everything was broken. Where the man before you had once felt like home, had felt like he had been made by the universe for you to find, tied together with an invisible string to lead you to each other, now it felt like that string had been slashed, cutting off your blood flow and oxygen and stopping your heart all together.
“No, it can’t.” You said and watched as he huffed before turning to you, leaning against the desk to look at you and still not seeing something was wrong. Your lips quivered as you forced yourself not to cry, even as you felt the sting of tears returning. “I’m leaving.”
“You’re leaving?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you, not seeming too alarmed.
“Yes, I’m leaving. I spoke to Cuddy and handed my resignation in and-”
“Wait a second, you’re leaving the hospital? Why? You love it here.” House said, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to solve the puzzle in his head.
“I’m leaving New Jersey.” You interrupted his thought process, watching as he stared at you dumbly. “I already spoke to my parents, they’re letting me move back home for a little bit until I find something else but I’m leaving.”
“I don't understand.” He told you and it hurt, it hurt how genuinely confused he sounded. He really hadn’t figured it out, he hadn’t cared enough to notice everything had gone to pieces.
“I know you don’t.” You told him because it was all you could say, you knew he didn’t understand but he should, he should love you enough to see understand.
Do something, you pleaded in your head, say something, lose something, risk something, choose something, choose me.
You needed him to choose you, needed him to swallow his pride, to lose it for just a few minutes, risk being emotional, risk something, you needed him to choose you, all you wanted was for him to want you, to need you the way you needed him.
“So that’s it?” He said and your lips thinned as you fought back a sob.
Of course he wasn’t going to fight for you, of course he wasn’t going to choose you, not when he had been pulling away for so long without even realising it. Or maybe he did know what he was doing and he had just been seeing how long it would take for you to crumble and break.
“That’s it.” You forced out, somehow managing to keep the flood of tears from falling even as you felt the last of your heart stop.
“Right, well then, if that’s everything I have somewhere to be.” House told you coldly, not giving you a chance to say anything as he grabbed his cane and walked past you and out of his office, down the hallway without so much as glancing back.
Alone in his office you let the tears fall down, a hand to your mouth as you tried to muffle your sobs, not sure you’d be able to come back from this one. It hurt too much, all you had wanted was for him to fight for you and he didn’t even want to.
How had things gone so wrong?
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gurugirl · 22 days
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Shy | librarian!harry -patreon teaser
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2 part story only on Patreon!
Summary: Harry's a painfully shy librarian and he finds Y/n very sweet so when she gets the nerve up to ask him to join her to see her friend's band play he gets nervous about going but figures it'll be his only shot.
1,122 word teaser
📚📚📚📚
As more of her friends arrived everyone pulled tables together and Y/n made sure she kept Harry with her, next to her the whole time. She kept checking in but he was becoming withdrawn bit by bit as her friends were stealing her attention. She tried keeping him in the conversation, asking him his opinion, touching his arm but it was difficult when he would hardly make a peep or look anyone in the eyes.
But the breaking point was when the band was on their second song and Harry had to use the bathroom. He hadn’t been gone long but when he came back a guy was sitting where he had been who had his arm along the back of Y/n’s chair and Y/n was grinning at him the way he wished she’d do to him. And it was probably nothing. But who could know? Harry didn’t know why she invited him. She’d been perfectly nice to him the whole time. And he could tell she was trying to babysit a little. Trying to keep him in the conversation and pulling him along with her but Harry didn’t want any of that.
He hated situations like the one he was in. Meeting new people wasn’t his thing. He wasn’t good at it. So, with a sigh, he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and called for an Uber. He’d leave and make it easier for Y/n to enjoy her friends. He didn’t want to feel like a burden and that’s how he felt. And he certainly wouldn’t walk up to the guy sitting in his place and tell him that was where he’d been sitting.
Y/n realized Harry had been gone for quite a while. The band was starting their third song and she looked around the buzzing café and didn’t spot his lavender sweater and dark curls anywhere. She got up and went toward where the bathrooms were and noted both the men’s bathroom doors were open and no one was inside.
Her heart dropped when she thought about what he might have seen as he left the bathroom and Paul was sitting where Harry had been. And now she figured it was possible he just left. She could tell he’d gotten progressively more uncomfortable as more of her friends arrived.
When she didn’t spot him outside either she felt a pang of sadness and hurt. She knew he wasn’t trying to be mean by leaving without saying anything but still… She’d taken a chance and invited him out. Her first attempt at making a move with him and he just left.
Sure she understood that he was painfully shy but not even a heads up that he was leaving? She wished she’d gotten his number but of course, she’d have to wait until Monday to visit him at the library to find out what had happened.
.                 .                 .                
Harry regretted leaving like he did. After he got dropped off at his car he realized it would have been much kinder to say goodbye. But it was too late and now he’d gone and blown it with the girl of his dreams because he couldn’t get his act together. He was destined to be alone for the rest of his life. He wasn’t built for relationships and pursuing a lover.
Hell, he was still a virgin 28. Which was another issue he hated to think about. To tell someone that? Anyone? Social suicide. And certainly, Y/n would think he was some kind of freak.
He couldn’t even bring himself to eat that night. He felt awful for being awful. Y/n had been nothing but kind to him and he just left like an idiot. Surely that would be the end of that. He’d probably never see her again.
Except he did see her again. First thing Monday after opening up the library and starting the pot of coffee for Lin and Priscilla. He walked out when he heard the door chime with the idea that it was one of his co-workers but instead, it was Y/n with a frown on her face and a stack of books in her arms. The ones she had only checked on Saturday. There was no way she’d read them all so quickly.
She placed the books on the counter and Harry readied himself for a terrible interaction with her as his heart pounded in his chest.
“Why did you leave like that the other night?”
Harry dropped his gaze to his feet, “Um… I’m sorry. I felt really bad for that. I wasn’t thinking… I got nervous and just left. I’m sorry, Y/n.”
“Why?” She kept her eyes on him, his face downcast toward the floor.
“I’m too shy. I can’t talk to people. I saw someone sitting next to you and thought maybe it was better if I just left.”
“Well, that was kind of a jerk move. You really hurt my feelings. At first, I even felt bad about it. Like it was my fault.”
Harry’s eyes shot up to hers as he shook his head. He hadn’t wanted her to feel bad.
She continued, “But then the more I thought about it I realized… you probably just don’t even like me to begin with. So… I’m sorry I invited you to something that you hated and that spending time with me was so awful you had to sneak out. But I won’t bother you ever again. I’ll find a new library to go to so you don’t have to ever see me after this. I just wanted to drop the books off and tell you that you hurt my feelings.”
Harry could have cried. He even felt the smallest bit of liquid forming in his eyes as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “No. Please. Y/n… I’m really sorry. I’m awful at this. I do like you… I’m socially awkward and I didn’t mean to do anything that made you feel bad.”
He rushed his words out as he watched her dig into her purse to pull out her library card and place it on the stack of books with finality.
“I’m sure you’re sorry. All I can say is that I put myself out there and invited you so I could get to know you. I thought maybe you wanted to get to know me too. That was probably presumptuous of me. And now I just feel embarrassed.”
Y/n turned but Harry followed. He was desperate and felt like he was about to fall through the earth… that he’d be swallowed by gravelly dirt and sticks and worms and would never be able to claw his way out again.
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sevensoulmates · 18 days
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7x05 Buddie Meta "You Don't Know Me" Part 1 (of 4)
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Welp. I'm back at it again with the four-part metas. I was hoping this one wouldn't take too long but alas there was even more to unpack in this episode than last episode.
Fair warning my meta does contain speculation, and is very much my opinion/interpretation. I will be diving into my personal opinions about Eddie's sexuality and marriage to Shannon here. My headcanon is that Eddie is a repressed gay man, not bisexual, and I believe that while he did love Shannon, he was not in love with her and their marriage was something they were pressured into and was not healthy for either of them. I do my best to look at these topics in a nuanced light, but if you are sensitive to reading opinions that differ from yours I'm warning you of mine now. Let's begin!
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Taylor Wong is nothing if not an amazing comedy writer. This call didn't end up being as psychological as I may have hoped but it still acts as an interesting parallel and metaphor. "I'm the Boss of Me!" is the tagline for a self-control conference and Buck and Eddie being the ones hurt here. How they got hurt is interesting too and reflects their exact conflicts in this episode.
Buck is being choked, stopping his ability to breathe but also his ability to talk. In the context of this episode, his inability to bring himself to tell Eddie the truth weighs on him--chokes him with guilt-- until he finally does come clean near the end, and only then is he able to exhale again. For Eddie, his being grabbed by the crotch is funny, but it's also an indicator of his storyline in this episode too. He deals with sexual dysfunction because learning about Marisol being a nun makes him feel so deeply uncomfortable that the idea of being with her sexually disgusts him and stops him from having a functioning sex life. For both of them, the pain and discomfort still linger even after the claw arm guy lets him go, but my hope is that this is indicative that one day both of them will get clarity and be set free too.
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"Keeping our options open" is a call back to the last episode where Buck says he's "keeping his options fluid". Whereas the last episode it seemed to be more about sexuality, options open with men and women, this time it seems to be about something else. Maybe it's an indicator of Buck keeping his options open with different people? Which is interesting considering who pops up a second later.
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This is part of why I think it's a good idea they're having Buck get used to queerness with another man other than Eddie. I feel like if Buck had discovered his queerness with Eddie, these kinds of issues might've been blown out of proportion on both of their ends and probably caused much MUCH bigger problems. Allowing Buck the chance to work through this with someone safer was a good bet.
Additionally, I find it interesting here that both Buck and Eddie are dealing with external and internal conflicts that mirror each other in this episode. In this instance, it's the fear of being Perceived. For Eddie, being perceived by God. For Buck, being perceived by Heteronormative Society at large.
This would be an adjustment for anyone, so I don't necessarily think Buck is dealing with internalized homophobia that's too detrimental. I think it's more so he needs an adjustment period and needs to figure out why he's uncomfortable. Is it the idea of being perceived as queer by others? Is it the idea of being perceived as queer by Eddie? Is it the fact that you are on a date with a man? Or is it because you're not sure if you're on a date with the right man? More on this when we get to his scene with Maddie.
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Now I had a strong feeling that Tommy was going to be someone who only figured out who he was later in life too. And it seems a lot of that was due to his past, possibly how he grew up, and being in the 118 under Gerard who was every "ist" in the book. It goes to show how far Tommy has come and also proves to be interesting if we keep thinking of Tommy as a parallel to Eddie. I also had a feeling that Tommy was going to lean slightly more toward the gay side (though he's purposefully unlabeled which is fair).
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To me, the phrase "lying about who I was" seems to align more with someone who is into men and not into women, but that's just my interpretation. Especially because in the next moment, Buck says that he's not lying about how he is, which is more in line with the bisexual experience.
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Because Buck isn't lying. He was always/still currently is attracted to women, and is only just now discovering a new aspect of himself with his attraction to men. Whereas Tommy seems to be implying that when he was with women he was lying to himself about his attraction to them. Sound like anyone else we know?
Additionally, we have another call back to 7x04 (plus a myriad of other episodes) where Buck "makes it about him" when Tommy was really just trying to tell Buck more about himself, not imply that Buck was also lying. I'm going to give Buck some grace here because this is all new for him, so I understand his hyper-sensitivity. But it is once again showing another instance of Buck failing to really connect with Tommy about something related just to Tommy. Last episode, every conversation they had always found its way back to Eddie or was about Buck's feelings regarding what was happening. This time, when Tommy tries to be vulnerable and connect with Buck, Buck makes it about him and it feels like a misconnection (like how I predicted with the missed hand grab in 7x03 with Tommy and Buck trying to connect, but something always not quite hitting the intended target).
If down the road we see Tommy's (abridged) story about "lying to himself" come to fruition in a similar light with Eddie's storyline I'm going to be delighted. Here Buck is out on a date with a man who the last episode spent the entire time telling us was extremely similar to Eddie, only to have Tommy align perfectly with a lot of our headcanons about Eddie's sexuality too. I think this is something to stick a pin in to come back to later for sure.
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Oh, Buck. OH, baby bi Buck. My heart aches for you and my body cringes. He's obviously on edge, but Eddie showing up just makes it worse. Buck immediately tries to no homo not just himself, but Tommy as well, stating that they're going to go find some "hot chicks" to pick up. Eddie makes a face, obviously picking up on the weirdness of Buck's statement (because "picking up chicks" is wildly out of character for current Buck and has been for years) but he's too distracted with Marisol to dig any deeper into it. He believes it very easily instead of stopping to question why else these two men might be on what looks like an intimate date. Tommy looks hurt, and I feel bad for him, but this was obviously his breaking point, and I can understand why.
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I want to briefly touch on Eddie and the way he was speaking about Marisol throughout the entire episode separately from the whole nun thing. I found this piece of dialogue so odd here, because in general this isn't really how Eddie talks, it doesn't feel natural for him, but at the same time, it also harkens back to some of his horrendous dialogue with Ana back in season 5. "This hot chick already found her firefighter" "Spank me with a ruler" "kinda naughty" "Grade me on a curve" "Maybe you need to keep me after class", etc.
I've always wondered why Eddie starts talking like this about or with his girlfriends. I was discussing it with my roommate and she said to her it sounded like an "8th grade boy sitting with his guy friends trying to talk up how he banged some chick when really it's just a ploy to make himself look good to the boys and like he's more sexually active than he actually is for social clout". And you know what? I think that's exactly what it is. Eddie speaking like this feels like overcompensation on so many levels (not to mention Marisol looks lowkey uncomfortable here, that smile is fake af). Trying to make himself seem way more into sex or kinky things (like roleplaying with a teacher or nun) than he actually is. The dialogue is cringey and Ryan overacts it because the audience isn't supposed to feel comfortable with it. It's not supposed to feel natural. It's not supposed to endear us to the couple, it's meant to feel out of place and wrong because Eddie being with Ana and Marisol was and is out of place and wrong. It feels like a performance to us because IT IS A PERFORMANCE.
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This is only enhanced by the new jarring information that Eddie has apparently asked Marisol to move in with him (offscreen). Keep in mind that they've been together for (I'm assuming) less than six months, he obviously didn't discuss it with anyone since both Tommy, Buck, and Bobby later are surprised. Christopher is also noticeably absent from this episode which leads me to believe he likely didn't really discuss it with him beforehand. This choice feels simultaneously like an OOC choice AND so very in character.
It's OOC because Eddie has stated that he doesn't like performing, he doesn't want a "ready-made family" and one would think that he would sit and contemplate this seriously given that if something goes wrong, he's providing another example of a failed relationship to his son. Not to mention that living with your parent's girlfriend is a huge thing. I've been through that process before in my own life with my mom and it's really only something you do if you're really committing to a person for the long haul because that's the message that sends to your kids.
But at the same time, this is also so severely in character for Eddie. As is pointed out later, he got married to Shannon because he was guilted into it, he dated Ana because he was pressured into it, and then overcommitted to her far too fast. And now he's doing the same thing with Marisol. This is very much a PATTERN for Eddie. Maybe, as this episode suggests, it's a facet of Catholic guilt that pushes Eddie to move way too fast in his relationships. Or maybe, Eddie finds the idea of being settled with a woman comforting, and he'd be okay sacrificing his happiness and settling with any woman as long as he got to have that comforting facade. All of this points to very obvious compulsory heterosexuality for me. More on this later.
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I'm going to talk more about the way the show is choosing to use physical objects, Marisol's things, as a metaphor for who Marisol is, and Eddie's willingness to receive/learn about them as a literary device later. For now, I wanna talk about the exchange of Eddie being the one to bring up "closet space", Tommy being the one to say "Aint't that the truth" and point it towards Buck, who hammers it home with his "bro" line. I find it interesting that they had Eddie say this line, when it very easily could've been Marisol (after all it is her armoire) with Tommy in the middle. Tommy (IMO) is in the center of these two men's queer realization arc. The more subtle one in the earliest stages (Eddie) and the more present one (Buck). The way all of them volleyed this dialogue felt like I was watching a choreographed play, and the lines landed perfectly.
This is also the third line in five episodes specifically poking at Eddie possibly being queer alongside Tommy and Buck. "I've never seen a man turn off a woman with such skill. it's a gift" "you both like to watch half-naked men pummel each other" and now this. "You can never have enough closet space" suggesting that not only was there Tommy in the closet in the past, Buck in the closet recently (and somewhat presently given that Buck just shoved himself and Tommy back into it), and Eddie right now still deep in that closet. Hopefully, there's enough space for all y'all!
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I very much liked how this went down. Tommy has a right to break things off if the person he's with clearly exhibits weirdness around being out with you. I don't blame him for his choice here. I like that he's also not making it about the fact that's he inexperienced. Additionally, I think this is another instance of Tommy witnessing something weird between Buck and Eddie, and I'm not sure how much of that he's picking up on, or if he thinks it's generally about being perceived as queer, or just needing to slow things down and process before he actually starts a relationship with a man. All are valid, but I think it's just interesting that a lot of it had to do with Eddie yet again, and I wonder how much of that Tommy is aware of.
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From the start of this conversation with Maddie, Buck makes it seem like the thing that's making him uncomfortable most is the fact that he lied to Eddie about the truth of his date with Tommy. Obviously, he's not going to immediately jump into telling Maddie the truth, and he's gotta start the conversation somewhere, but I do find it interesting that rather than seeking her advice on "how to get his date back" he instead is seeking advice on why he lied to Eddie and can't bring himself to tell him the truth.
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This could be deflecting because he's not yet ready to tell Maddie. Or it could be the truth that all of this angst may stem from him still trying to get comfortable in his queerness. But the main issue that isn't sitting right with his soul is that he lied to Eddie, that he's hiding a fundamental piece of the truth of who he is from Eddie. Because to Buck it is unthinkable that Eddie doesn't always know the whole truth, all of who Buck is, at all times. At this point in their relationship, they're supposed to know everything about each other, and yet something about sharing this part of himself with Eddie in particular scares him. Could it possibly be that he's aware that sometimes "straight" men get weird around their queer male friends? Could it be that he thinks his relationship with Eddie would be negatively effected if he told Eddie this truth? I will touch more on this later. But for now, Buck makes it clear that his interest isn't wholly in getting Tommy back right now. It's making sure that all is right in his relationship with Eddie.
Once again, this choice by the writers to center Eddie in every step of the way of Buck's queer realization journey is telling. Especially given that he's able to tell Maddie without ~too~ much struggle.
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I understand where Buck is coming from. It's again distancing himself from Tommy, trying to get her advice about Eddie. But also, it's an attempt by him to normalize him going on a date with a man, which should be normal, but it's not in Buck's personal historical normal.
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Buck wants to believe that because he was an "ally" that that means he'd just be automatically okay with dating a man right away. But I think he's trying to push himself at a speed faster than he's comfortable with (which he again does at the end by inviting Tommy to Madney's wedding) and needs to realize that he can slow down, which is a parallel with Eddie the whole episode. Which is why I think Tommy was right to step back and give him some time. The other part that is interesting is that Buck once again appears confused about the truth of his feelings, similar to the last episode and I just find it interesting in this scene where Buck and Maddie are once again talking about Eddie at her house, it's once again ambiguous if the subject Buck's really hung up on is Tommy....or Eddie. Both are true at the same time.
Go to part 2!
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
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koolades-world · 25 days
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wow it's almost been a year since i wrote the original and figured it was about time that i finally made part two. plus I've been trying to clear out my drafts lol
part one can be found here if you're interested in that! part one is it's own complete piece and this is just follow up!
enjoy <3
just like lilith (part two!)
It was a beautiful day in the human world. The sun, while admittedly rather intense, shone down on the beach where two chairs sat underneath a large umbrella. A green towel was strew over of the chairs. A small cooler filled with ice and various snacks acted as a table between them for a couple books and two waters. Nearby the chair was a few small sand sculptures, if they could be called that. They were more like sad, vaguely castle shaped piles. The two occupants of the chairs were nowhere in sight, but they could be assumed to be in the small, nearby cabin that sat tucked back from the shore.
A lone figure was walking the beach, and set their eyes on the house. Grimacing at the sand, they set off towards it. Inside, it was a little cramped, but there was just enough space for two people to be comfortable. The kitchen didn't have a real table, and instead had two stools butted up against a counter. The kitchen itself was small and had the basics. The living room was also small, consisting of just a loveseat, coffee table, and a wall mounted TV. Against a wall sat a ladder, leading up to a small hall with two connecting doors. One was shut, and water could be heard running behind it. The other door was wide open, however, and someone could be heard walking upstairs. A curtain was pulled over the doorway to give the illusion of privacy. With a deep sigh, the person started up the ladder, but was stopped by whoever was in the room with the open door coming out and yanking back the curtain.
"Lucifer." The voice that greeted him was one that he knew well. He sounded oddly calm. Lucifer looked up, knowing exactly who was speaking to him.
"Satan." Lucifer back up a little to get a better look at the demon he though he knew well. He was in swim trunks with a floral print and had a matching flower tucked behind his ear.
"What do you want?" Satan stared down at Lucifer with a silent, burning fury. They hadn't come face to face since the night he and Mc escaped to the human world, and while he'd had to to let the rage dissipate, his festering indignation to how his brother treated both himself and Mc lingered.
"You know why I'm here." Lucifer watched as Satan balled him his fists, and with a deep breath, relaxed them again. He'd been getting much better recently with controlling his anger, and he only had Mc to thank for that.
"The thing is, I don't. You never apologize, and even if you did, it wouldn't even begin to start to repent for what you've done. You don't ever stop to consider how your actions affect others. Your selfish desires always seem to take preference over those around you, even if that person is someone who did nothing but make our lives better. We don't want to talk to you right now." He took another deep breath, and turned his back. "See yourself out and close the door behind you." Satan attempted to yank the curtain shut again, and it remained half open as he went back down the hall. Lucifer knew following him would only escalate the situation more. The way sharp way Satan referred to "we" stung, but this was simply the results of his own actions. Satan was right. Lucifer had simply been cut by the shards of the window he'd broken.
He took a seat in the tiny living room, looking around the the signs of it being lived in. Several more books sat stacked on the coffee table, and a blanket he knew was Mc's was folded on one of the arms of the loveseat. Two mugs of old coffee sat side by side, one half drank and one almost empty. He could easily tell which belonged to who even though the mugs were identical. Mc was a slow coffee drinker but Satan always drank his quickly, since he always did it while reading. Mc also preferred their coffee with more creamer than Satan did, as one mug was lighter than the other. He knew them well, well enough to know that what he did would hurt them even before he went through with it. Yet, he did it anyways.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there waiting. He heard the water shut off and through the half shut curtains, he saw Mc open the shut door, and glance around anxiously. They met his eyes, and he saw them visibly stiffen. They retreated back into the room Satan had went into. He heard their hushed whispering. Eventually, they emerged together again, moving the curtain back over. Satan had one of his arms around their middle, holding them close. Mc's hands were constantly moving. They cracked their fingers one by one and flexed them, studying them. They didn't look up at him.
"Hello, Lucifer." They greeted him, still looking down.
"Hello." He paused again. Satan was looking directly at him, staring into his eyes. "We looked for you for a while." That statement wasn't untrue. The night everything went down had been hectic, and Lucifer doesn't remember resting once.
After Mc ran off crying, the remaining six brothers stood motionless in the dining room. Lucifer was horrified with what he'd done, and his brothers seemed equally as guilty looking. Even if they hadn't actually done anything, they were complicit, and they knew they'd all royally messed up. Beel had been the one to break the silence, with a "now what?" and looked almost as upset as Mc had been. For once, nobody knew what to do. They knew that Satan and Mc always had the answers to these kinds of things, but they were the victims in this situation. Eventually, they resolved as a group to just leave them be until morning. Lucifer couldn't sleep, and spent the night tossing and turning. When he resolved to go apologize and had formulated a response he deemed good, he set off to Mc's room, because they were much less likely to react violently. That's when he realized they were missing. Upon this realization, he checked Satan's room too, and their favorite spots to hang out, but found nothing. He alerted his brothers, and they spend a while searching tirelessly. That's how he eventually ended up where he was now. He wanted to tell them the whole story, but he knew it would just sound like an excuse, or beating around the bush.
Satan and Mc made no move to speak. He tried to continue, but the words died in this throat. "If that's all, you can go now." Mc said. Satan moved to close the curtains again, looking at him with a gaze that told him to actually leave this time.
"No. I'm... no, we're sorry. I know my words aren't enough. Lilith is dead, like you said and pretending you're her is unhealthy and unfair to you. Both of you. My inability to move on should not have to become your problem." Lucifer's rather sudden apology caused Mc to finally look up at him. Their eyes were red, and Satan tightened his grip on them. "Neither of you asked to be part of this dysfunctional family. For that, I'm sorry. You don't deserve this." He looked between the two of them.
"Took you long enough." Satan seemed less angry than he had been before.
"I'll be going now. I just wanted to make sure you were safe." He got up from their sofa, and made his way to the front door.
"Lucifer, wait a moment." Mc was behind him when he turned around. They seemed hesitant, and he saw the remainders of the injuries he'd given them. He felt like a major dick. But, despite that, they hugged him. Not for long, but enough to to function as a thank you, or something along the lines of affection. Satan was quick to take them back once they let go of Lucifer, but the softer look in his eyes let him know that Satan, while had not forgiven him, was grateful.
"Take your time out here. Return when you are ready." With that, he set off, shutting the door behind him, leaving just Satan and Mc alone again.
"He must've felt really guilty to go that far, huh." Mc said quietly.
"It's unlike him." Satan locked the door and peaked out the window for his older brother. He was already gone. "Looks like our plan worked then." He turned back to Mc, who'd sat in the spot Lucifer was just in.
"It's alright to be honest with yourself, you know. He was concerned about us. He was probably searching the entire time we were gone. You hate him, and right now, I kinda do too, but I can't deny he seemed genuinely sorry." Satan took the seat next to Mc. They began to mess with the flower in his hair, readjusting it.
Satan didn't respond, but leant into the touch. While what Lucifer and his brothers did hurt, he felt warmed by how much they seemed to care. "Ready to head back out? I can help you make a sand castle this time, if you want." He smiled at you.
"Yeah, that sounds nice. You're much better at that than I am. While we're out there, we can talk about our plans." Mc didn't stand up just yet. "Thank you, Satan. For everything." They hugged him. It was longer and more amiable than the one they'd given Lucifer.
"Thank you too." Satan felt lost most of the time when it came to matters such as these, but he was eternally grateful to have someone who understood, even a little, about how he felt. He gave them a kiss on the top of the head, causing them to giggle and return the favor.
Despite everything, he had you, and that's all he could ask for.
thanks for waiting!!! here are those who asked to be tagged <33
@eccedentesiast-sapphic @sammywo
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frankoceanluvrr · 1 year
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𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 - 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑
pairing : friends to lovers , fem!reader , college!peter, college!au
warnings : nothing serious. english isn’t my first language, urdu is! so please tell me about grammatical errors like spelling and punctuation as those i struggle with
summary : [Name] and Peter have been friends since college started. He soon finds out his friend has a ‘crush’ on the masked vigilante Spiderman, and cant help but feel a little jealous.
italics = flashbacks !
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“What you drawing?” Peter smiled, looking at your notebook.
You quickly shut the book closed, looking at him laughing, “you’ll say it’s dorky.”
“Oh, come on? Me saying somethings dorky? Isn’t that like, hypocritical?” He said, tilting his head.
“I guess nerd, forgot you take physics” You said, “and anyway, we’re supposed to be studying. Not focusing on little doodles”
“Please [Name], I promise I don’t think you’re secretly the biggest dork ever” He sarcastically stated, “and I definitely do not think you’re a bigger nerd than me.”
“How dare you cross that line!” you say, holding your hand on your heart, tilting your head back.
While you were doing your dramatics, he quickly got your notebook before you could even react.
“Hey! That’s private property.” you gasped, watching him gloat since he got the book.
He opened it and flicked through the pages to see simple notes covered in Spiderman doodles.
“Oh, wow dude you really are a dork” he laughed looking at every drawing, feeling himself blush a little bit.
“Aren’t you literally in a robotics club? Or what about the time you made me watch all of those Star Wars movies? How about the time—”
“Okay that’s enough” Peter interrupted, looking around the library.
“Exactly, I cant out nerd the nerd” you shrugged, “I bet spiderman isn’t a nerd.”
“He most definitely is. Probably old and wrinkly” Peter said quickly, “yeah, he definitely has crusty bleached hair and 47 years of age.”
“You really think so? I’d love him no matter what then. I’ve actually met him before.” You said, completely unaware of who you’re exactly talking to.
**
“Are you alright?” The superhero said, looking at you while you attempt to carry new furniture into your new student accommodation.
“Yep, I’m good. Great, actually. I really like this lamp” you tried acting cool in front of the superhero, but he could tell you were secretly fangirling anyway.
“I can take some of those in you know, it’ll be easier with two people.” He offered, watching you stare at all the boxes, “which floor will you be on?”
The mask gave Peter confidence, it made him feel like he wasn’t scared of anything. It was like he was a complete different person with the mask on.
“Sure, I’m on the bottom floor so it’s not a massive job. Anyway don’t you have like, superhero duties to attend to or whatever? Sorry, that definitely came out rude. I’m very thankful you’ve offered to help me and-” you rambled, wanting the ground to swallow you up whole.
“No, no, it’s fine honestly. I’m happy to help you”
You obviously couldn’t see, but he was smiling so hard under the mask.
Peter had been crushing on you since you first met, and it’s safe to say you felt the same. But neither of you confessed your feelings, in fear of what might be ruined.
After moving all your furniture inside, you had thanked him about a million times.
“Your smile is beautiful, by the way.” He said, looking at you.
**
“And that’s how spiderman helped me with all my furniture. He’s such a gentleman” You smiled, pretending to be all smitten, “He even said my smile was beautiful.”
“He wasn’t wrong.” He said, barely audible.
Without the mask, Peter was very shy and awkward. The mask “completed” him, and he was always said he was nothing without it.
“Who even uses the word beautiful anymore? The chivalry! But he probably says that to every girl, right?” You giggled.
“No” he said quite quickly, only to receive a confused look from you, “I mean like, obviously he won’t say that to every girl because none of them have a pretty smile like you.”
Your eyes widened slightly as you could feel the heat in your cheeks rise. All you could muster out was a simple “shut up” as you looked away.
“Aw, did I make you nervous?” Peter teased, still flipping through the doodles.
“I want to kill you” you said, still attempting to hide your blush.
“Moving on,” Peter whistled, “I stand by the fact he’s probably old and musty.”
“No, no, he sounded young. Also, I saw his abs through his suit. Definitely not that old.” You smirked before bursting out laughing.
Peter clenched his jaw for a second, then realised his crush was literally checking him out.
“Gross.” Peter said, not even trying to wipe the smile off of his face.
a/n : part 2 :
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aclowntiny · 7 months
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Hiii! Love your writing 💕
Was wondering if you could do a San + firsts? I love those 😭🫶🏻
Of course!!! Can’t wait to for this star 🌟!!!
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San + Firsts
First Date: Of course San wants to spend time with you and all he can dream about is an adorable first date, but maybe just maybe there’s an agenda in it for him when he invites you to an animal café. After all, anyone he’s going to be in a relationship with has to be a good pet parent! Plus the sun is filtering in through the windows, all the cute fluffy babies are just begging to be pet, and your smile lighting up is one of the most precious things San’s ever seen.
First Time Holding Hands: You’re on a date at the carnival, lights dancing around you. San is looking at it all with wonder, but it seems you have other plans to get out of it all. “Let’s go in the haunted house!” You exclaim. “Why?” San whines. “Can’t we stay out here?” He isn’t the biggest fan of scary stuff, which you know, but maybe you’ve got something up your sleeve. “I’ll hold your hand,” you purr leaning closer and intertwining your fingers with his, “keep you nice and safe.” A smirk creeps onto your lips at the way San blushes. “Alright, if you really want to we can go,” he sighs, cheeks reddening as you pull him toward the dark doorway.
First Kiss: It happens the same day you first take his hand, this time back out in the safety of open, fried-treat-and-mist-scented funfair air. Moving on with a pouty San from the haunted house, you swear to spoil him rotten with games and fun to his heart’s content as a thank you. He wants to impress you, though, so soon San is taking the helm of a little water shooting stall, dropping a few bills to try his hand at dropping down
First ‘I Love You’: You provide warmth at San’s side as you two wend down the beach, your arm tucked tightly in his. Beneath the crashing water is your voice telling him everything you love about the sea: how powerful it feels to you, how close to the very forces of nature themselves you feel. He watches your expression, the awe and wonder upon your face, and all San can think of is how you're describing the way how his heart feels in the presence of yours. No way can he keep this to himself. “You're far more magnificent than the sea could ever hope to be, and my heart feels just as drawn to the waves of yours.” You giggle at that, beautiful eyes peering shyly ay him as you ask if that’s a quote from a book. “Just me,” he shakes his head, “why? Too much?” It isn’t. You love his words, beam at the way he tells you love makes him do crazy things. “Like this,” he breathes, pulled in by your gravity until your lips meet. “I really do love you,” he tells you when you pull away. “And I you,” you reply, beaming still as your foreheads lay met.
First Fight: It isn’t even the situation, it’s what you say. “Geez, can you please stop sulking?” San’s been sitting there hardly moving with a sad expression on his face, and while you always feel for him this time it isn’t helping you move forward from things. Your outburst has the opposite effect, however, and his head leans back suddenly as he looks for all the world like a kicked puppy. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think you of all people would be like this, though,” he adds at the end, voice barely above a whisper. “Be like what, a jerk? I just think we should try to make the best of things is all, and-” “That doesn’t change how I feel!” San shoots back. “Sorry I’m not a better actor.” Something about those words shake you, snap you out of the buzz of annoyance surrounding you. Uncrossing your arms, you sigh. “No, no. I’m not trying to invalidate you or anything, I just…I’m disappointed too. Seeing you upset just made it that much worse and I couldn’t take it. I shouldn’t have snapped.” “It’s ok. I shouldn’t act like it’s the end of the world, I’m just-” “Shhh, shh, there’s nothing wrong with being emotional. Let’s just enjoy next time, ok?”
First Anniversary: San is such a romantic he FOR SURE treats you even on your hundred days! He’s at your door with a teddy bear holding a bouquet, arms open ready to take you wherever you want to go, that cute necklace you’d had your eye on, you name it he’s got it! He’s overtaken with joy at your smile, musing how happy he is to have reached this point with you.
First Pet: Beside Byeol of course 💅🏻 because his sister often has her, you get a kitten of your own for San to spend time with whenever he can! Your choice is a lovely little brown tabby you call Choco 🤎 your very own Sanrio character at home!
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moriartyluver · 8 months
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can we have some mtp boys (separate) on how they’d treat a fem! Reader who is on her period. You don’t need to make it historically accurate & if you’d prefer, you can make it modern au. Thank you!!!
A/N: I did this in a modern AU as suggested because I have no idea how people would have dealt with periods in the 19th century
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Characters: William James Moriarty x fem! Reader , Albert James Moriarty x fem! Reader ,Louis James Moriarty x fem! Reader (separate)
Format: headcannons
Genre: hurt/ comfort, fluff
Prompt: the Moriarty brothers with a reader who is on their period.
Warnings: reader is afab, reader is female, established relationships, periods/menstruation etc.
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LOUIS would be such a good partner in general so when you’re on your period? He is doing everything!
He’s already very much a househusband male wife kind of guy but it just gets so much more malewifey when you’re on your period
Oh you’re hot water bottle got slightly less warm? Louis is filling it up for your instantly
He will literally shower you in heating pads
I don’t think he’d be very physically affectionate in general, his love language is definitely acts of service and it’s very evident all the time, but if you ask to be held, hold you he will.
He’ll make you anything you want to eat no matter how strange (I always get really weird cravings on my period so if you do aswell, be prepared because Louis will stop at nothing to make you happy)
He has a whole storage cupboard packed with pads and tampons and whatever else you may use, all with your preferred sizes and brands because he’s just that caring. You never run out of pads or tampons with him around.
If any ones annoying you, he’ll be super pissed off and will actually get into a fight for your sake.
If you’re feeling emotional, he’ll be by your side reassuring you that everything’s okay. He’s a bit emotionally constipated but he tries his best for you.
If you ever need sheets to be washed or clothes to be cleaned, he won’t mind at all and he will definitely not get upset.
He himself doesn’t go out unless necessary so he’ll try stay at home with you all the time, just in case you need something (even if you insist that you’re fine)
Overall rating? 10/10 wifey material
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WILLIAM probably knows more about your period than you do. Not in a gross mansplaining way but in a well educated husband kind of way
Like he definitely knows when you’re going to start you’re period based on symptoms and stuff before you get that little red surprise in your underwear. Worst feeling tbh.
He helps you learn how to track your cycle and if you’re an inconsistent period girlie like myself, he’s a great help. Imagine just getting ready to go out and then William tells you to make sure to take a pad/tampon/cup with you before you leave 💀
He pampers you too, especially if you live together, but not in the same way louis does.
He’s a bit more strict when it comes to what you should and shouldn’t eat (it’s the protective teacher in him). Liam makes you take magnesium supplements and makes sure you eat healthy even if you’re craving junk food so your cramps don’t get worse.
He’s probably calculated the perfect temperature for your heat pad/hot water bottle 😭
Probably a little more affectionate than his younger brother would be. If you’re complaining about being cold or uncomfortable, he’d put whatever book he’s reading down and hold his arms wide open for you. William absentmindedly rubs your back while listening to you complain about having a uterus
Definitely pressed kisses to your forehead while you ramble like the old fashioned lover he is 🤭
He makes sure to buy you really good quality pads/tampons and is sure to memorise which brands or types you prefer. Might slip a chocolate bar in there too. He also buys you painkillers and gives you the correct doses and everything at the right times
If you don’t feel like speaking much (he loves talking to you for some reason. its adorable) he gets a little upset but he’s a surprisingly good communicator. He doesn’t want to make you feel uneasy and bless his heart, he does all the chores and everything so you don’t have to suffer further while your uterus tries to fucking kill you
Overall rating? ∞/10 (I am totally not biased) I want to marry him idc if he’s a drawing
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ALBERT is stupid. I’m sorry that’s a mean way to start off
I think we can all agree he has OCD or OCPD but he’s so sweet to you despite some seeing periods as a ‘Filthy’ thing.
You bled through the sheets? He’ll calmly help you fix that dw sweetie. If you bleed through your pants in public and anyone gives you any dirty looks or some weird shit because people hate uterus havers, he’s not called one of the most unhinged mtp characters for nothing 😊
Ok but this man knows nothing about periods though. I’m so sorry. Like you had to explain to him that no you can’t hold in the blood nor do you use your pad as a bandaid of some sort
Would probably send you one of these :(yes I made that)
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He needs Louis to go shopping with him to help get you stuff because this man is smart enough for eton but not enough to know that different colours on pad packages are not flavours 🙄
Also he’s a shit cook so you still have to do that if u don’t wanna starve
Probably the most affectionate out of the brothers. He’s very cuddly with you when you need him to be (mainly because he feels bad for being so damn useless)
Overall rating? 2/10 💀
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gudfornuthin · 1 year
Text
Teenage Dirtbag
Eddie Munson x reader
She’s the most popular girl in school. And he’s just the freak. Maybe people shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
A/N: based off the song narrative of Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus. I really loved writing this, I enjoy creating stories based off of songs. So if anyone has other music you want me to base stories on, don’t hesitate to ask! Feedback is greatly appreciated❤️
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The Hellfire Club had ended their campaign earlier than expected. They were pissed, obviously, but the dungeon master had good reason to cut it short. That reason being the cheer squad practicing out on the field at the same time. He wasn’t big on school spirit and didn’t care for any form of sport. But the one thing, or person, Eddie took an interest in was the cheer captain, Y/N.
She wasn’t Eddie’s usual type. Popular, athletic, preppy. Way out of his league, obviously. But the boy couldn’t help the attraction he had towards her. Her eyes, her smile, her laugh. God, it was infectious.
Eddie walks out of the building and makes his way to the field, beelining for the bleachers. He doesn’t want to seem like a creep, but he also has a reputation to uphold. If people found out that the freak was watching cheer practice every week for an hour, he’d never live it down. He leans on his arms, peaking through the gaps and scanning the cheerleaders. He spots her in the middle, stretching her arms and leaning from side to side. She wears white tube socks and bright yellow Keds. Most couldn’t pull that off. But to Eddie, she rocks it. He wants nothing more than to tell her that, but she has no idea who he is.
“So this is why we have to cut Hellfire short?”
Eddie jumps and turns around, the sarcastic question coming from none other than Dustin Henderson. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, pleased with the older boys scared reaction.
“Henderson. You shouldn’t creep up on a guy when he’s-“
“When he’s acting like a perve.”
Eddie rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply. He knows it’s weird for him to do this. But he’d rather admire from afar then be put in his place if he so much as smiles at her. Although, she’s the problem. It’s her dick of a boyfriend. He doesn’t know much about him, only that he plays on the basketball team and lives on his block. Somewhere else he sees her frequently. Driving down the street together in his IROC, her bare legs hanging out the window. Her boyfriend also carries a gun around school. Why, Eddie couldn’t begin to imagine. He definitely doesn’t want to find out.
“You know,” Dustin pipes up, “Y/N isn’t judgemental like her friends. Or boyfriend.” Eddie chooses not to question how he knows she’s the one he’s been looking at. “She’s always been open-minded. Might be willing to get to know Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson. Maybe if you weren’t such a pussy.”
At that, Eddie goes to push the younger boy, but misses, as Dustin runs off snorting. He wishes he could believe those words. That maybe you wouldn’t look at him the way everyone else does. That you’d see past the messy hair, leather jackets and unsavoury music. But he couldn’t. because he was just that. The freak. The weirdo. The dirtbag. He huffs and walks away from the bleachers, feeling down on himself.
---
Why Eddie had agreed to take all the kids to prom, he’ll never know. But as they all pile out of the van, chatting animatedly about decorations and people’s outfits, he sits back with a cigarette in hand. He had nowhere to go, and they’d all be ready to leave in a couple hours, so there was no point leaving to have to drive back.
He waves half-heartedly at them as they walk into the gym and lights up. Eddie closes his eyes and breaths out. He hates to sit and mope, but it’s hard not to knowing everyone else is having fun. While he sits alone, waiting for a bunch of 14-year-olds. What a loser.
No soon after the kids have left, Eddie begins to grow restless. He looks at the doors, seeing the flashing lights and hearing muffled music. It couldn’t hurt to poke his head through and scope the place. No one would see him. He’s never been to the prom before, albeit due to being banned from going every year. But it had never been his seen anyways. Having to get dressed up and listen to some shitty cover band play the same three songs over and over. Eddie preferred staying home and getting high.
Either way, he hits his hands on the steering wheel, and gets out the van, flicking the cigarette butt onto the floor. Making his way into the gym, he immediately spots Dustin, along with Mike and Lucas dancing off to the side. Red faced and laughing, he can’t help but smile, glad they’re having fun. He walks further through, trying not to be seen, but standing out completely. Eddie chooses to stand at the back of the room, alongside other rejects who hope that this will be the year they get asked to dance. He crosses one leg over the other and does the same with his arms. Constantly glancing back and forth, using the time to people watch. Couples dancing. Couples arguing. A kid most definitely spiking the punch. Y/N walking over to him.
Eddie stands up straighter, eyes wide and mouth dry. She was still coming closer, a small smile on her face. This can’t be real. Maybe she’ll take a sudden turn towards the doors, or perhaps she’s going to ask him to leave. She is part of the prom committee, and he’s not exactly welcome. Even so, she continues to walk towards him, until she’s only a few feet away.
“Surprised to see you here.”
Eddie can hardly process what she’s said. “Huh?”
“I didn’t think this was your scene. I hope you’re having a good time though.”
Why is she talking to him? why is she acting as if she knows who he is? Why does she hope he’s having a good time? Those are just a few of the several thoughts running through Eddie’s mind. His lip and hands start to shake, and he’s hyper aware that she’s waiting for him to reply.
“You look really beautiful.”
He cringes. That wasn’t what he meant to say. He truly meant it though. A stunning, purple dress hugs Y/N’s figure, the lace wrapping around her collarbone. Subtle, golden makeup shines under the light. To Eddie, she looks ethereal. He’s smitten, and he’s worried he may have just blown it. Then he hears her laugh.
“You’re too sweet,” the music changes, and ‘Like a Virgin’ begins to play. She reaches out her hand, “come on, I love this song.”
Eddie’s still in shock, as the girl takes his arm and drags him to the centre of the gym, lip syncing along to the lyrics. She takes both his hands in hers and moves them back and forth. Eddie tries to keep his focus on her, not wanting to lose a second of their time together. But he can’t help to look around, nervous and on edge. Y/N leans close so he can hear her.
“He’s not here.” Eddie looks confused. “My boyfriend? We got into a huge fight earlier and he left.”
He’s unsure how to respond. He can tell she’s trying to hide the hurt, a tight-lipped smile and eyes glossy. Her boyfriend’s a dick, sure, but Eddie knows what relationships can do to a person. Though it pains him to think of her having to go through anything like that. Instead, he changes the subject.
“So you like Madonna?”
She shrugs. “Well yeah, everyone does. But I’m more into hardcore stuff,” Eddie holds his breath. “You know, bands like Metallica and Black Sabbath.”
Of course he knew what she meant. But it was still hard to process. The head cheerleader, who wore bright colours and was the embodiment of sunshine and flowers, is a metalhead. He hardly notices the song change once more to a slow melody, as she rests her arms atop his shoulders, and his wrap instinctively around her waist.
“Actually, now that I mention it. Iron Maiden are doing a show this Friday. I’ve got two tickets and no one to go with. I was wondering if you-“
“Yes.”
Y/N is taken aback once more by Eddie’s abrupt response but smiles none the less. He shakes his head, a blush forming on his cheeks.
“I mean,” he clears his throat, “I’ll have to check my schedule because you know, I’m a busy guy,” a complete untruth, “but yeah, that’d be really cool.”
She smiles wider and looks down at Eddie’s lips. She looks into his eyes, asking for permission, to which he nods. The pair lean in, eyes closing.
“Eddie,” she whispers.
“yeah?”
“Eddie, wake up.”
He opens his eyes slightly, seeing you staring back at him.
“What?”
“Eddie, you need to wake up now.”
---
He gasps and sits up straight, finding himself in bed. He looks around and sees his uncle looking over him, dressed in work clothes. “You overslept again. Can’t keep missing school if you wanna finally graduate.” He shakes his head and walks out, leaving Eddie alone, replaying the vivid dream over and over.
--------------------------
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ginsakatoki · 2 years
Text
Dante, Vergil and Nero with an Introvert S/O
This was asked in the master list’s comments two days ago, sorry for being late! Also, for anyone making requests now, I have a couple of requests pending so I might be a little slow but I promise they’re all coming! Thanks for understanding and enjoy!
@iamsimpunu
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gif by @rainbow-cadenza
Dante is a very talkative man. He doesn’t mind that his S/O is an introvert at all, he actually finds it cute and makes it his life mission to have you talk more. 
He will occasionally and unintentionally be annoying by asking them a thousand times if they’re okay because they’re naturally quiet.
Dante: Are you alright 
S/O: Yes
Dante: Really?
S/O:  Yes 
Dante: You sure?
S/O:  Yes,  I’m sure.
Dante: Oh you’re annoyed now.
S/O: No, Dante, I’m not. 
He will try to help them speak out more and he has good intentions, but it can be humiliating.
If they’re eating out or ordering something at a bar, their first instinct would be to let him talk. He always tries to get them to order. 
He may or may not intentionally ask for the most specific things to see them struggle.
S/O: Could I have a cappuccino please and uhm… a non-fat Frappucino with extra whipped cream?
Dante: Aren’t you forgetting something
S/O, blushing, looking at him and the Starbucks employee: And chocolate.
Dante, beaming: Good girl/Good boy.
He can be aggressive in his attempts, but he isn’t malicious. If he notices that they’re struggling too much he will intervene and save the day. 
Their introvertedness gives him a calm he’s not really used to, so he loves staring at them for no reason. 
Whever he sits at his desk and they’re nearby, he always leans on his hand and stares at them with a lovesick smile he can’t seem to brush off.
Overall, he’s a very supportive boyfriend and, while his methods can be brutal, they’re effective.
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gif by @CAPCOM
Vergil is introverted himself so he understands the struggles his S/O goes through. 
Talks with Vergil are usually short and essential, he’ll hardly ever start long conversations.
If he does, he prefers to be on the listening side of things so he’d ask about their interests or hobbies (he has discovered that his S/O gets very chatty when talking about their interests)
Sitting on the couch reading
Vergil: You seem invested, what are you reading?
S/O: Nothing much, just a novel I picked up from the library this morning.
Vergil: Doesn’t look like nothing, you haven’t eaten all day.
S/O, closing the book: OKAY SO let me tell you all about it.
They proceed to talk his ear off for the rest of the day.
If anyone ever bothers his S/O about being too shy or quiet, Vergil will just stand behind them and glare at the person until they leave. 
Nobody messes with his S/O. Dante made that mistake once, almost got himself a one way ticket to Hell.
When planning dates, Vergil makes sure to let his S/O know when, how and where they’re going, in deep detail.
Vergil: Would you like to eat dinner with me at this new restaurant? The place is near that park you like, very quiet and reserved. There usually aren’t many people and the food seems to be delicious.
S/O, worrying about which clothes to wear: Okay
Vergil: I’ll pick you up at seven. I got you some clothes to wear this evening, if you’d like. 
Very caring boyfriend, even though he doesn’t really show it. 
Introvert approved.
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gif by @BlinchixOfRivia (Tenor)
Nobody really knows how Nero does it, but he reads his S/O’s mind.
Everytime they need something they just look at Nero and he’ll suddenly give it to them, no questions asked.
S/O staring at the cupboard: ...
Nero: hi there
S/O looks at him: ...
Nero opening the cupboard and grabbing their favourite mug: You’re welcome sweetheart.
He doesn’t exactly help them with their introvertedness to be honest. He acts like the extroverted boyfriend that fixes all the problems for their introverted S/O. 
This is only what it looks like to outsiders though. In reality Nero and his S/O talk a lot about their introvertedness and he tries to give them advices on how to handle things on their own.
S/O: I get uncomfortable around people because it’s like they’re staring and judging me. What if I say or do something wrong?
Nero: What if you say or do something right? Plus you don’t really know if they’re judging you or not.
S/O: … they look like they do?
Nero, softly flicking their forehead: You’re overthinking this. Besides, even if they were, you should let them. We both know you’re the best.
He often cups his S/O’s cheek and kisses them softly whenever they are feeling insecure. 
The day his S/O orders on their own instead of telling him what they’d like to eat, he’s overjoyed.
See? It wasn’t that bad
Very supportive boyfriend, 10/10 would reccomend.
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It took me an hour and 5 attempts to load this because internet was NOT collaborating. I hope you enjoyed it.
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pinkandpurple360 · 3 days
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taking a count of the episodes, Stolas is likely to appear in 8/12 of them - literally two third of the entire season. meanwhile the other members of IMP have been thrown to the wayside to make room (and the show potentially intends to introduce yet more Goetias...)
I've got a theory about the themes of s1 and s2 and tbh I think it's fairly supported by the text. so the theory is basically this:
Season 1 is the Blitzo season. Season 2 is the Stolas season
but when you compare the two, it's...telling
Season 1 - basically a whistle stop tour of most of the people Blitzo has hurt in the past (Fizz, Verosika) and the ways in which he is on track to mess up his current relationships in his new life if he doesn't change (pushing boundaries with his employees by stalking M&M, needing to give Loona some space to grow up, being a liability to his own business through his lack of professionalism and impulsiveness).
In the effectively two part finale of e6&7 (not counting 8, it does little to tell us stuff we don't already know) it is made brutally clear that Blitzo desperately wants love and intimacy but doesn't know how to get there because he doesn't know how to be vulnerable with people. He ends the episode crying on the couch while knowing that despite having people in his new life, he's still alone and will remain so if nothing changes
Season 2 - opens on a flashback to Stolas as a child where it's revealed the woman he cheated on was an evil monster since birth and only he was the victim in the arranged marriage scenario. He was the only victim when he was forced to have a child he didn't want and the only victim when he kept the marriage going despite it not working for anyone involved. He coerced Blitzo into a sexual arrangement in season 1, but Stolas was the real victim there because...um...Blitzo seduced him for the book and took it after a one night stand, even though sex with Blitzo was something Stolas clearly wanted but didn't have the guts to admit (and he was also the first one to make it sexual, claiming Blitzo came to ravish him for no logical reason whatsoever after shutting them in a room together) and anyone with a brain should be able to figure out that if someone robs you after a one night stand then ghosts you, they aren't actually into you. Sings about how what's between them is a 'lie' despite Stolas initiating it and deluding himself the whole time.
From then on nothing is his fault. He refuses to take any responsibility for his daughter running away and him somehow being unable to find her because he didn't memorize his own spells (he gets out half an apology for forgetting Astaroth's tears before the writing forces Via to let him off the hook). Sexualizes Blitzo some more after being told not to, right when Blitzo could have used some genuine support and comfort.
Spends the rest of the season having people come to his defense on his behalf and having his history with Blitzo being rewritten to include sweet offscreen phonecalls. Decides his cheating didn't matter because Stella never loved him - never mind that the family name is all she's got since she isn't royalty like him, and his adultery is making a joke out of her. Doesn't actually apologize for Ozzie's. Goes to Ozzie for a crystal then acts weirdly shy and says 'no, never that!' when Ozzie talks about lust despite lust being the defining feature of his relationship with Blitzo even into s2.
Is likely to spend the rest of the season shaming Blitzo for not loving him, barely doing anything to address Blitzo's problems with him...and then will promptly be rewarded with Blitzo's love, either because Blitzo gets jelaous when the plot hands him a new boyfriend or because Blitzo decides Stella abusing Stolas means he's a good person, actually
like when you lay it all out it's kind of impressive.
Season 1 is a mostly effective deep dive into why the main character is the way he is, why it's hurting him and an indictment on the current way he lives and behaves
Season 2 is non stop coddling of Stolas and hitting the nail of the viewers' memory of season 1 with the constant hammer of Nothing is Ever Stolas' Fault and You're Wrong if You Think Otherwise, We Called Striker a Bigot to Prove It
what's even more galling is that at least part of Blitzo's behavior is due to being raised in poverty by an abusive father who taught him stealing to get ahead was the right thing to do. part of the chip on his shoulder now is due to people underestimating imps (they don't run businesses often, according to Striker, and most other city imps we see are working low paid service jobs) and thinking they can treat them however they want. but the show will still attempt to frame Blitzo as being in the wrong when he acts out and have characters hold him to task, even if the writing is half-assed about it
meanwhile Stolas is a literal prince but he apparently can't bear the minimum amount of pushback from Blitzo. he's had the power to treat imps like objects his whole life but the show circa season 2 won't permit him to do anything but the minimum amount of introspection about it
God it’s enraging the more I read through this, and you can really tell rich people wrote it. Season one was fantastic, season two shat all over it because that one Erin frost fanart was eaten up like crack and made canon. (Sorry frost it’s not your fault)
Don’t act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to F you ok you make that really clear all the time
Is the best line in the show.
Sounds like you just hate him for being a prince
Is the worst. You could replace prince with “rich” “white” “a man”
Like holy shit you have an abrasive but endearing guy with friends in a tense precarious connection, but they fucking love him and he loves them despite his worsening quirks, with him honestly being the second most toxic one after Loona. Someone who’s been sexually objectified his whole life and just needs respect, affection, open communication, and gentle reassurance, but someone who can also keep his ego in check. Not someone who puts their needs over his and hates when he has feelings that aren’t convenient. Hears him out when he breaks down doesn’t shove him away.
Like hmm I dunno I’m just spit ballin here
“Why didn’t you try to tell me any of this?”
“Misunderstanding or no, it’s hard to just forgive you”
“What do you want, a medal?”
“You’re pretty good at this action hero bullshit”
“He earned it (love)”
Sorry I could talk about them for hours…they’re just so good together it hurts. Even as kids they bounced off each other but fizz kept him in check.
What he doesn’t need is mind games, public humiliation, a glorified martyr, somebody who demands constant favours and takes and takes until there’s nothing to give. And only reaffirms to him how much of a nothing he is when he has no right to do so. You aren’t owed a relationship. That’s monstrous. Stolas is literally an incel.
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