#and then i'm just like ''but what if EVIL''
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
“allowed” is not a word toji is familiar with. hardly listening to those he has an inkling of respect for- he’s now barely tolerating a “hands off” rule implemented by his coach and you.
boxer! toji + dom! toji + man handling + orgasm denial (m! receiving) + pet names (angel, sweetheart, angel face) + rough sex + toji is a mean, evil man + toji mocks you + mating press + messy sex + reuniting sex + cream pie + overstimulation + size kink + humilation + teasing during sex + praise + f! reader
— word count; approx 6k
there had always been one rule to your relationship with toji when his season was in play. dynamics changing just a bit, because the one rule wasn’t imposed by him; but by coaches- his team advising the best course of action to ensure that he would come out victorious season after season.
and that was; absolutely, under no circumstance- was toji allowed to cum.
you could remember the first time that rule was introduced, naive and innocent to the world of this sport. mouth popping open in surprise when his coach stepped next to you, having decided to join toji on one of his practice sparrings for the first time.
the line of questioning felt odd, wondering why his coach looked over at you with a known smile- like he knew what was going to be said would spark some surprise.
“he’s a beast, huh.” spoken while looking at you from the side of his eye- watching while you squeezed both hands together, trying to calm the uneven thumping in your chest when every heavy swing was directed towards your man.
“mhm.” you nodded, lip hurting from the way your teeth dug in nervously, trying hard to keep your focus on the older man standing next to you while staring at toji.
“i wouldn't worry too much, sweetheart.” he assured, speaking up to let the men know it was a good time to take a break. toji looking over past the ropes at you two with interest, hooking heavy arms against the cords to rest for just a bit, sweat clinging onto the black tee he chose to wear during practice. throwing his coach a pointed look with an arched eyebrow- zeroing in on your sweet face, sending you a wink.
stomach flipping with the cocky attitude that emanated from him in waves, now more with the fact that an angel had their eyes on him.
“you two remind me of when i was younger.” the man chuckled. throwing a rag over his shoulder and turning to face you dead on. “in love, yeah? i can see it.” he mumbled, trying to find the right wording.
“passions high, things get… intense real easy, right?” the coach spoke, after seconds of looking pained by just forming the words leaving his mouth.
finally breaking over the focus you had on your boyfriend- trying to keep the burn down from the way he chose to throw compliments at you, whistles and pet names- even during his precious breaks. your eyes looked at the man next to you, crossing your arms in confusion and interest at what he was telling you.
“yeah?” you answer, inquisitive, trying to find what you had missed to be asked this.
“well, with the season starting- i gotta advise you two to… take a step back. i'm sure he hasn’t told you that there’s absolutely no sex before his matches, right?”
a singular squeak left you, pinching your lips together- the curious stance slowly turning into crossed arms and a burning face. looking over at toji briefly, glancing at his pumped biceps, the sweat trickling down his neck, and the kisses he was blowing you before swinging his head back and laughing into the gym knowing what was being spoken about given your shocked expression. you wanted to strangle him, preferred if this came from your loving boyfriend's mouth, rather than a man old enough to be your grandfather.
“no. he didn’t tell me.” you almost whined, trying to keep composure in the face of the only man toji took any sort of direction from.
he could only shrug.
“it's a conversation you and the boy need to have, take him home- sweets.” the man said, stepping up into the ring and calling over the other man sparring against toji, giving you an opening to snatch your boyfriend away.
“toji.” you whine, walking over to his corner- stepping over the rags and bottles littering the ringside, trying to keep your pout down to a half hearted smile while you looked up at him.
“yeah, angel?” he hummed, crouching down to try and steal kisses from you- quickly discarding the gloves in a messy heap against the ring floor. hands reaching down to cup your face closer to him the best he could with the wraps still on him. tongue eagerly licking against your teeth, biting down on the swell of your lower lip- nearly growling into every push. only discouraged from showing everyone in this gym who you belonged to when you choked out a small noise- embarrassment and heat mixing into a haze that felt heavy in your chest.
letting you go with a final suck of your lower lip, letting his tongue lick at his own- smiling proudly at the dazed look on your face. eyes lidded, face lax and swollen lips glossy.
“coach said we could leave.” you finally muttered out, stepping back with your arms crossed over your chest ‘cause you were foolish enough to let him get close and now you would have to suffer even more than you already were with the rule lingering at the forefront of your mind.
“yeah? i could still go a couple rounds...” toji murmured, looking back at his team- knowing what all this about. sending a frown at his coach, only to be dismissed with a wave.
“mmm, you don't wanna go home with me?” you wondered, sweetening your words- smiling when he huffed and nodded like there was ever going to be anything else he wanted more.
letting him off the hook for the time being for not telling you what was to come… or not to come and for god knows how long.
beginning the routine of putting his wraps away, grabbing a random rag and using that to freshen himself off a little for you- even though you liked him sweaty.
bruised hands, swollen and a little too hot- big and sturdy finding your own when he was finally done. taking you proudly through the front of the gym, like a pretty little trophy that he won all on his own.
and when the two of you were alone, happy enough to bask in his attention- laying pretty before him now that he had showered and changed into nothing but gray sweatpants that were held up by his hand while he walked towards you, peering down at you like he wanted something. eyes widening before you snapped them back up to his face when you saw the unmistakable twitch of his cock hanging heavy between his thighs.
it was almost too hard to cross your legs at your ankles- shaking your head between giggles that crawled up your throat. watching how he bent his body down over you, pressing your hand between his tits; remembering the words his own coach gave him.
“nuh uh, you gotta stay away- boss’s orders.” you murmured between trying to press your legs up between the two of you, back pressed down onto the bed while he grabbed at your ankle and tugged it up against his waist like it obviously belonged there.
toji scoffed, rolling his eyes- hot hands softened only a bit by the shower, rolling up your thigh. fingertips squeezing so hard it made you squirm.
you knew he hated the thought of being denied you, of being told what to do. but this came with the job, and you knew he couldn’t… you two, couldn’t afford to lose any matches. not like he could anyways, but still, you knew if he got too excited beforehand- he wouldn’t be able to put you down and from what you’ve read, it weakened them- men and those in his profession.
“sweetheart.” he mumbled right back when you finally squeezed your foot up against the middle of his chest and pushed, setting him back on his haunches before you. hands coming up to hide from him- not the smartest move on your end because in seconds he had crawled back up; this time using just a sliver of his freakish strength to set any effort aside. letting you know with the previous attempts- he had let you move him.
“nuh uh,” he mimicked right back, “if you’re not gonna let me touch- at least let me see you, angel baby.” toji breathed, pressing his scarred lips to the same hand he had pried from your face, breathing down onto it before dropping it. the weight of him pushing aside any offending limbs to curl down; lips hungry for any taste he could get.
passing them down over your throat and right above the swell of your chest- a kiss so tender it was nearly uncharacteristic of him; like he was apologizing to your body for not doing more.
“your loss.” he groaned before rolling off of you when your hands reached up for him- scorning you like it had been your decision; leaving you gasping and whining.
turning to fight with him before the sight of his hardened cock- straining against the gray sweatpants he had chosen to wear, stopped you. his gaze pinned to the ceiling instead of you, head cushioned by his hands. biceps curling and flexing like he was trying not to move.
shutting down any feeling of anger- seeing now, how much it weighed on him too.
easier to turn around- laying on your side away from him, face hot against your hand; a pout so deep it nearly hurt painted on your face. stomach dropping like it was all your fault- already lamenting about the complications of this.
all before toji slithered a hand against your side, bringing you right to him with no effort. cradling your body to his own, acting like his dick wasn't slotted between the two of you, groaning at the contact but taking no other action.
“this is going to be hell, ain’t it.” he wondered, nose finding purchase along the path he had pressed kisses to just seconds ago. like a dog licking a wound.
“mhm, ‘specially cause you think with your stupid dick.” you murmured- halfway giggling when you grabbed at his hand squeezing against your side rhythmically, bringing it up to hug; your own lips pressing soft passes over bruised skin.
feeling the hot breath of a sigh tickle down your back, trying to keep things light even when the sweetness you both approached each other with was charged.
“actin’ like you don't like it, princess.” toji smiled, teeth bared while a smile played on a face you couldn’t see. wrapping his arms around you further- a pass of his tongue up the nape of your neck causing the frantic wiggling of your body, whining when he didn’t let go.
“how long ‘til the match?” he wondered, speaking above your still kicking body in between barks of his own laughter when you couldn’t budge a singular inch off his hold.
sighing- rolling your eyes when you finally ceded, goosebumps crawling up your back; you went limp and sighed.
“two weeks.”
the next sound was that of a giggle from you when he let out a rather loud note of pure agony- something not like him at all; before scooping you into his arms, like he was trying to absorb your very being into his own, not noticing or saying a thing when the full weight of you nestled right on top his still throbbing cock.
and just to his dismay- the two weeks seemed to drag on. he wasn’t used to being denied your body, futile attempts to just sink the tip inside of you rejected night after night; even amidst the promises that,
“angel face- i swear it’ll be just the tip, won’t even cum, i swear it.” and maybe that would mean something if it was coming out of the mouth of anyone that wasn’t toji zenin.
having gone weirdly sweet when around you, especially after hours of sparring matches- pressing his face too hard into the curve of your neck. or feigning innocence when hands that always seemed to wander crept too close to the apex of your thighs.
his pout, ever prominent when you finally caught on and shifted away from him, trying to keep space so this exact thing didn’t happen. knocking blows to your own conviction, because it was so odd to see him beg and sulk- your man who always stood so tall, unwavering- and a bit mean at times, reduced to trying a compromise because he missed your cunt so bad.
but with the tension building- there was something like a secret being swapped between the two of you. a secret promise that every day would pass faster than the last- and before you two knew it; he was fighting.
the glory of it never waned, sitting ringside in your promised seat in his corner didn’t lose its weight. hands pressed into balls on top of your thighs while the cheering all melted together into one continuous roar.
the ringside walk took too long, but the actual fight itself didn’t. your eyes never leaving off of his form, the twinkling of overhead lights glittering off fractured drops of sweat while he moved about.
all show; knowing if he got close the fight would be as good as over. your own fingers pinched together while you watched, fingernails digging crescent moons into the soft part of your hands- holding your breath while he finally circled in, stepping close and letting just one fist swing upwards to the tired opponent. his coach sat next to you leaned in to congratulate you- as if you were the one who won before the man even fell down onto the vinyl.
acting like this was a dance between the two would have done a disservice to toji, he was dancing; the other man looked like he had been running for his life since he stopped foot inside the ring. your head coming forward to rest against your knees at the sound of the bell- signaling the fight was over.
standing with tears hanging heavy against your lashes while they toted toji about; the veins prominent on his curling biceps with every shake of his gloved fist- showing everyone who’s winning hands they belonged to. something like a smile and smirk playing on his lips when he looked down at you. a promise shared while everyone else was celebrating him.
holding breath after breath in your chest following a small reminder to breathe with every intake; he was yours, but the glory of having a man so hailed and adored by people never ceased.
step after step taking you to the locker room, standing still- nearly biting your fingers with unnecessary anxiety while waiting for him in the room powered by fluorescent lights.
waiting on him while others who wanted just a sliver of attention circled like sharks to fresh meat all the way to the same spot you stood.
too in your head to feel the warmed hands reaching for your upper arm, blinking away the haze and looking at him.
feet awkwardly moving from their previous perch on the solid floor, nearly tripping on the porcelain; exclaiming out something that sounded like his name, trying to remind him to treat you with more care, fragile in hands that still had adrenaline pumping through his very being.
but just like it was difficult for you to keep yourself from dissolving into a bundled mess of nerves, it was hard on him to not act on the all consuming lust growing with each passing second, bypassing any necessary interviews or just plain praise spat in his direction- he had you. it was all he was going to need for tonight.
driven by the single thought, he didn’t stop until you were pressed down into the corner where he had shoved his bag and clothes toji had walked in here with; sweats and a too tight black shirt. hands braced against either side of the metal locker; caging you in, already dizzy with the smell of sweat and a metallic twist.
eye’s wandering down to his body at the thought that this could be his blood.
“whose blood?” you questioned, trying to keep lucid- even while pinned back against the wall, hands roaming down swollen muscles. veins thrumming with heat after taking the ring.
smelling nothing but him and a sickly metallic tang that flipped your stomach over- trying to keep your hands innocent when all you wanted to do was dig in and pull him into you.
damn the eyes still pinned to his back, even while his body crowded yours. no one would look at you if he had any saying in it, and with the adrenaline still coursing through him- he had half the mind to grab your legs and hitch them over his shoulder just to prove a point.
“the other guy’s. but you knew that.” toji stated and it was true; but there was still a part of you searching to make sure none of it was his. even words heavy with discontent- not with you, never, but with the fact that he wanted you and couldn’t do anything about it. not yet.
you nodded, tears already dotting your lash line with how long it had been since you had him, and now all that was left was to wait just a little bit.
“take me home, toji.” you whine, shaky hands leaving a trail of clean skin over the blood splattered on him before wrapping your fingers into his wet hair- tugging on the strands eagerly. lips brushing over the curve of his jaw, breathing down onto his chest. tasting something like sweat and blood, nose scrunching at the thought that he was marred in any capacity. but you knew it wasn’t his, any scrape was miniscule- bruised stomach and side, the areas where his opponent briefly made contact would be gone by tomorrow.
“ah, fuck.” toji groaned, looking up at the lights of the locker room- stomach tensing with pool of lust simmering in his stomach, knowing he would have to calm down, if only a little, if they were ever going to make it out of there.
and when he felt like he could breathe once more, when the tight coil of pure arousal waned enough for him to gulp down lungfuls of air- toji took you home.
stopping for just seconds to grab his check and eagerly pulling you behind him, catching glances of you while he turned around. spoiled and greedy with the sight of you giggling at how eager he was, making you feel just that more special.
it felt like an eternity before you were tugged over the threshold, hands reaching for you before the door closed. body arching down to meet your pouty lips- hungry for you like he's never been before.
denied of you for what was too long- it all came to a halt.
cock pressed against the material of flimsy sweatpants, it begged to have you. pulling away for seconds to actually breathe, toji reached down to pinch your face, tilting your gaze up at him. watching you blink away tears and fit tiny fingers into the space of his palm and your chin, wanting to stop with all the pretense, the wait- the swelling of want.
“toji.” you whined, lips puckering against the dimpling of your cheeks thanks to his fingers still pressing in.
acting like he was mad at you for not giving in, like all of this was your fault- eyes watching to see the simmering lust he had grappled with for nights, and days between when it had been allowed.
the singular word leaving a sour note on his tongue- “allowed”. he was toji zenin- ‘allowed’ was a word that had never pertained to him, and it never would be.
leaning in to grab at you again, like a doll he could have his way with. the sweetest reward for waiting, digging in with extra force with that simmering anger that was flipping back and forth from his stomach to chest, a slip of just how strong he was.
knew it was hard on you too- could feel it late at night when you thought he was asleep to helplessly stick fingers inside, too spoiled and used to what he gave that it wasn’t enough. let you think he was asleep because when you tried and ultimately failed- it did something to him.
hearing you try to stifle whines, hide from him by curling into a ball right next to his heated body. attending to yourself in a hopeless attempt and knowing nothing could compare to him.
his lips peeled back into something that resembled a smile, black tresses of his hair stuck onto his forehead and tickling your own when he leaned in and kissed you.
tongue hot, and strong- it licked inside your mouth, swirled along the sides of your teeth, and stopped right in front of your lips.
caught between breathing and holding it in your burning lungs, treated like a victim of his- the unbridled strength he carried resting just beneath the surface.
you couldn’t tell if you were scared, it felt like it, but there was also a tinge of lust playing right next to it. but you just blinked through that tight grip of panic; it was okay to be scared sometimes, scary felt good with him.
a singular whine escaping between the captured air- bringing down that smile of his once more.
but it was softer, no longer tinged with that seething warmth.
toji blinked, and actually looked down at you- eyes focusing on different parts of what was right in front of him, lips pouty and painted glossy with his spit- fingers still dimpling the fat of your face, your own digits wrapped around his thick wrist in a feeble attempt to pry his hand off.
“cute.”
it felt mocking, like he could laugh at you any second for getting off on how he was treating you; it was so tempting to bite back that it was the same with him, he was getting off on humiliating you like this- holding you open to gaze down at the very chords of your being.
but you didn’t, you were *good* and toji knew that too- it’s why it was so easy to shift the hold of your face down to either side of your neck; fingers pressing into the thrumming veins settled right there. easy to let go once satiating the need to make it hurt, bringing his arms down to where your ass meets your legs to tug you up. letting you wrap your arms around his neck- dependable and strong enough to carry you with ease, trying not to bump into the edges of things while he looked up at you. taking seconds from this moment to simply press his face to the center of your chest, kissing you like you’d even feel it given the clothes keeping you away from him.
your own fingers moving from their hold to ensure you wouldn’t fall to the stray strands of hair littering the nape of his neck. liking the fact that it was getting longer- there was just something about his long black hair you found comfort in; liked it when he was wound down enough to let you run your hands through it- softening the edges of his being with your love.
thoughts of how sweet he was to you, and only you, interrupted when he finally made it into your shared space. unceremoniously dumping you down onto the bed like he wasn’t just adoringly looking up at you, knees dipping down against where your legs folded into your waist; dipping you down with how heavy and big he was. making a show in how slow he was to place his palms against either side of your face.
every movement calculated, like he was waiting for you to comment on the slow pace he’s chosen to take, and just like he thought. it didn't take long to look up at him, pout already forming on your lips.
“toji.” his name whined and already breathy, hands searching for anything that would tug him back up to you. needing him so much it hurt, the singular chord of need seemingly moving any limbs for a chance to entice him further. like he wasn't also panting and wanting.
dizzy when you looked away from his lidded eyes for just a second to see his sweats hanging lower than they had been seconds ago- the imprint of him heavy and low. eyes rolling to the back of your head with the wet lust pooling between your legs.
trying so hard to keep your body from squeezing down onto nothing, stomach clenching in its stead.
“toji.” named whined again, like he didn’t hear you the first time.
“talk to me.” you whimpered, trying to keep a creeping panic down. trying to worm itself up from the odd coil of lust mixed in- seeing him look down at you. jaw set and hands shaking; palms warm and rough against the round skin on the fat of your face. thumbs tracing the start of your hairline over and over- trying not to vocally grunt when the twitch of his cock was so forceful it knocked air from him.
he could only laugh, bringing the pads of his thumb down to swipe under your eyes.
“what do you want me to say, angel?” toji questioned, distracting you with the answer he knew you wanted.
too spoiled and needy, knowing you we’re nothing but a creature of want bundled up with a pretty bow and pleading eyes.
“want me to tell you how much i want you?” toji asked, bringing both hands- finally latching onto the waistband of your bottoms before tugging without restraint of his strength.
pulling you down with the force a good inch before leaning down and placing a kiss to your forehead.
“want me to tell you how i heard you touch that dangerous little cunt, every night? right next to me?” he hissed, remembering it all. tipping over the swirl of emotions settled deep into the pit of his stomach. brought forth with the adrenaline slowly waning, replaced by want.
a hand slipping between both of your bodies to cup at the heat he was just speaking on. pulling fingers away saturated in slick, smiling something sick before pressing his fingers to his lips.
canines glistening against the low light, prying out another uncontrolled spasm- hips jutting off the bed to plead better than any words you could stupidly come up with.
wet mouth coming down, those same teeth catching the soft skin under your ear, bucking once more- hips caught down with those hands of his. waiting for you to notice the heaviness of his cock, freed from any confines, painting lines of lust across the apex of your thighs.
“too sweet.” toji whispered, uncharacteristically, once more. teetering you over that small and tiny space he seemed to shove you in a moment's notice. nose tipping up to breathe, to catch any sort of lucidity you still held.
excitement pumping through your veins with every throbbing push of hot blood, you could see your heart beat now. could feel the swollen and equally hot cock head poke against your swollen little clit, nothing but jolts wrecking through your body with every passing second *he* was making you wait.
and toji was a sick, twisted man- letting you look at him and start another plea before finally pressing himself inside. physically feeling the contraction of your pussy before you relaxed, tears dotting your lashes. swallowing down his name with a cry when his swollen head popped inside, head pressed back into the bed to cry out nothing but his name over and over.
too dizzy to notice the way he picked up your limp legs, hooking them over the curve of his arms before coming back to you. trapping you, keeping you bundled up and tiny.
viscous, teeth gnawing against one another- toji groaned. adrenaline waning, dizzy in his own right, body strung up with nothing but physical strength.
thankful for his own power because the cunt squeezing around his cock so tight- he had to fight to fit inside seemed to sap any better judgment or mental fortitude.
“come on angel- your turn. you talk.” toji nearly bickered, trying to bring the focus back in your eyes. and since he was a sick, and mean man- he enjoyed seeing your face scrunch up, sucking in little breath after little, hiccuped breath.
knocking that focus clear off your face with pistoning thrusts so hard, the jolt itself tempered him through the thick fog of lust and pleasure. barking out something akin to a laugh and groan watching you shake your head and squish your nose up something cute.
how was he ever supposed to stop? how could he ask to keep his hands off you, when you received him so well- even now, while he bullied his cock into your already battered pussy all you did was shake your head back and forth and plead for him to give you more.
hands gripping onto the curve of muscle settled on top his bicep, anchoring yourself to the very thing knocking the wind and thoughts out of your body. feeling the push of your muscles against his hold on you, acting like you were-
oh.
toji has to bite down, gnash his teeth and breathe heavy tufts of air out of his nose to keep himself at least somewhat grounded. watching you twitch weakly, feeling you spray his wiry hair, and coat the sliver of cock that doesn’t fit inside of you with cum. hitching your legs further into the cradle of his arms while he fucks and fucks into you over and over.
“fuck.” the singular word spit out through his gritted teeth, balking with the fact that you came so easy. finding it unfair that you were so sensitive, you who was allowed to touch yourself. who was allowed the little moments of reprieve even if it might not have been with him.
he would have swallowed his pride for the time being, letting you do what you needed to get off.
but since toji is such a nasty, vile man. he knows that’s not true.
lips curling to smile down at you, like you did such a good job for him- making a show of grabbing the back of your knees, and pressing them further down onto the bed.
his eyes pinning yours down, like a wild animal sizing up their prey before pouncing. daring you to look away, wanting you to be the one who pushed through the hazy fog of burning overstimulation.
“that’s it.” he praises, despite what he’s putting you through, unrelenting thrusts, keeping you down small and unmoving underneath him he sees the way you’re slipping in deep. sharp smacks of his balls battering the curve of your ass that has been lifted an inch off the bed the only thing heard, apart from the sharp trills of your cries.
“please, please!” you cry, over and over- too dizzy to even pick your head back up, letting it roll to the side when he comes in close once more. tongue laving at the curve of your cheek, a simple gesture of comfort.
“my good girl. please what?” he asks, the vibration of his words reverberating against your clammy skin.
and toji never expects an answer, this is good enough- you do well enough in your own right to keep somewhat lucid while his thick cock throbs with every push inside.
it feels like an uphill battle from him too, watching every orgasm overtake your body- slowly eating away at the unshakable control he has over his own figure.
wonders why, after everything he’s done bad in his life, is he able to have a little piece of nirvana right here.
toji is gluttonous anyways, has always wanted more than what was offered- from you too. grits his teeth down so hard, even through the haze you can see the vein working its way down his thick neck.
holding off just for one more, one more orgasm from you, pretty little thing.
coaxes it out of you with those snapping hips- thick cock noisily sliding in and out of you with no remorse for the integrity of your walls. battering you into something soft and malleable, shaping the figure of his cock into your tummy.
you cum again, weak- sensitive. barely able to distinguish what hurts and what doesn’t, whole body shuddering in the midst of his strong hold. squeezing around him, beckoning him closer and closer.
in the end it’s worth it, letting yourself get used by him to watch the way he tips his head back- looking at the ceiling of your room before tremors wrack his own body. lips open while he pants out the singular-
“fuck! fuck-“ over and over, sealing himself against you with one last thrust. digging in as much as he can to make sure you take it all- make sure his cum is well received inside of the same walls still trying to push out his unrelenting cock.
and you feel so full, warm and shaky while toji slowly gains his own bearings- having gone limp long ago, waiting for him to come back to you. shivering with every weak throb his cock gives you, like he’s trying to push out every last bit of cum he has for you. the heat simmering low in your very being.
“pretty thing.” toji finally breathes- relieved. whatever pent up energy left now forming into nothing but pure adoration for you. something he had never felt before. coming to him as naturally as all the other mean, vile, nasty tendencies he has.
letting you whine like a little puppy while he lets your legs fall back onto the bed. kissing you, teeth nipping at the curve of your tear stained cheek- lowly chuckling with how shaky hands reach for him. wondering if you know how ironic it is to be begging for the very being responsible for making a mess of you.
“toji.” it’s sweet, called out in a way he’s not used to hearing his name in.
“yeah angel, ‘m here.” he huffs, feigning like there’s effort in bringing himself down to hold you. strong arms used in a manner foreign to their creation- wrapping you up against him.
“you did good, cunt missed me that much?” he wonders out loud, catching a glance at the pool of cum trailing down the middle of your thighs. letting both of you lay in the messiness of it all- too indulgent to clean it off.
watching you nod, eyes heavy- bleary. fucked out like an angel created for just this. his own breathing ragged with the singular pout, feeling your hands grab as if he’d leave.
wonders how the fuck he’d ever get through next season, and the season after that. knowing temptation itself holds its form in the shape of you, right here with him.
toji kisses you- trying to make you the singular thought in his mind. letting you rest before he puts you through it again and again, a creature of indulgence in his own right.
knowing he wants it all; victory and your very being. wonders how you drift off so easy with a man like him looking over you.
#toji#toji fushiguro#toji smut#toji x reader#toji x y/n#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#toji zenin#toji x you#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen#smut#jujutsu kaisen toji#jjk.txt#jujutsu kaisen smut
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𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓!
- How svt hip hop unit would react to you using your safeword
- cw: fluff, established relationships, humor, slight angst, quickies, rough sex, smut, breeding, degradation, safewords, +18, mdni, mingyu as his own warning
Always be safe, xo
⤑ Seungcheol
"This is good right? You're good?" Over and over again, Seungcheol had peppered you with reassurances. They bounced off the bases of his soft, pillowy lips with the same convictions as the wet kisses he was leaving on the side of your face.
You could feel how rough he was beginning to get.
Like a fucking concrete monolith was stationed between your thighs, rutting against you harder and harder the more time that seems to ebb between you. F-Fuck, baby you're so tight, huh? Such a tight little princess for me? He was completely and utterly delirious. You can't crane your hand to look at him no matter how badly you wish to. Your back flat against the polished wood of his desk, and his hand around your throat keeps you there as Seuncheol traps you underneath him. He fucking loved being framed by your soft, pillowy thighs. They got tighter and weaker intermittently around him, all while he whispered the most vile words into your ear.
"You like this, don't you?" You were swimming deep in subspace, a land of pink pillowy nothingness where your brain essentially became a tabularasa. A blank fucking slate.
"Y-Yeah- Cheol- fuck-" Seungcheol watches in pained ecstacy at your blissed out state, completely catching him in the height of his own Dom space. With your tongue lolling out, Seungcheol dips down to whisper straight into your open mouth, "You're such a pretty little slut you know that-"
He was squeezing the base of your throat as he rutted into you. More and more you began to wonder if you were even a person anymore.
"Just a pretty fucking slut for me to use-"
You felt like an object.
A toy.
And despite your walls clenching around his cock your hand flew to his wrist. "Ch-Cheol-"
"You're gonna make me cum, you stupid fucking bitch-"
"Cheol-"
"F-Fuck you're such a dumb little girl-"
"CHEOL- Ohmygod-PEACH-" as if released by some evil spell, Seungcheol immediately uncuffs his iron grip from the base of your throat. He is off of yoy in five seconds, creating as much distance possible while his chest rises and falls and rises and falls. You turn slightly, eyes wide and brimming with... something. It wasn't fear, Seungcheol would hate himself if it was that.
"Baby- I-"
"Could we maybe like, ease up on the name calling. J-Just a little."
He looks fucking devastated "Fuck, I'm- genuinely so-"
"I know. Babe, it's not your fault."
"When you said Degradation I just-" he shakes his head. He wasn't about to blame you. Anything but that. "Fuck I'm sorry-"
"Hey, you're so good. So good. I'm just not into it as much as I thought I was and that was an error on my part."
"Don't fucking apologize. Thank you for telling me."
"Thank you for being a safe enough place to tell." You shrug.
Seungcheol looks around the messy room with deflated shoulders.
"Are we.. do you- I mean I could run you a bath-"
"Get inside me, I was still close,"
⤑Wonwoo
There isn't a moment that Wonwoo isn't always just a little bit overly cautious during your various sexual escapes.
Whether it was a quickie in the bathroom of a Michelin Star restaurant or a divinely long session of lovemaking under the wooden beams of the ceiling, with both your bodies submerged in a sea of blankets. So completely consumed with one another, you've already filled the entire expanse of the messy California king with all your tussling and lovemaking. Wonwoo is always careful.
Infuriatingly so.
Howevsr, there are moments like tonight, where the stars were aligned just a little differently, and your long-term boyfriend was feeling all the more frisky.
You can feel his hands everywhere the very second he stormed into your bedroom from being cooped up in study.
What you expected would be the usual, sober, safe, sex with Wonwoo quickly bled into something else when he pushed open your legs and pulled down your underwear along with your tight pink bum shorts in a single fell swoop.
"Uh -" Your body just let itself be undressed by him. All you could do was watch your boyfriend and his stoney visage as he paid special attention to undressing you. The warm glow of the overhead lights shone off his glasses as he lifted your torso up as if it was nothing, undressing you as if you were a child with underdeveloped motor skills.
"Did everything go okay at work-"
"I can't write. Jihoon wants to record tomorrow and I still haven't written my verse," Wonwoo pays extra attention to rubbing his hands on your soft supple skin. His shadow falls over you as you feel completely vulnerable underneath him, and he has yet to spare your actual eyes even a single glance.
"I'm sure every amazing rapper's had writer's block once and a whi- FUCK!" Your head shot back into the pillows as Wonwoo buried his face in between your legs, eating you out with the most fervour he'd ever radiated in a single sitting. Gone was the poised, level headed Wonwoo. He died somewhere between the pages of his coffee stained notebook.
"God- Wonwoo-" he sticks his tongue out, lapping hungrily at your cunt that only gushes for him. He hums against the tortured skin and your fingers immediate reach for his scalp.
"Fuck-" he mumbles against your cunt before lifting his head, "Can't work like this-" he says before pulling off his thick rimmed glasses and discarding it somewhere on the bed. Your eyes cross the moment his plush lips rub against your cunt and your hips lift almost automatically from the bed. His hands are encircled around your ample thighs, promising you you're not going anywhere and his mouth visibly moves as he begins to eat you out in the most literal, most vile display of eating out you'd ever witness.
One tap on your thigh let's you know you're not watching him like he wants you to. Eye contact was sacred and Wonwoo always let you know.
You gain enough energy to crane you head down to make eye contact but the second you see his mess of overgrown hair, tousled from your harsh grip, or the eager, half lidded eyes, you're completely done for. You gush all over his face, and your limbs wrack and writhe, but he keeps you locked there.
"W-Wonwoo- Fuck-i cant-"
He doesn't listen, as if trapped in his own reverie of pussy-drunk pleasure as he continues to slurp at your cunt with his mouth sucrioned onto your clit.
"Wonwoo- Baby- please-"
He's far too locked away in the essence of you, way too fargone in the softness of your cunt to begin to realize you're becoming way too overstimulated.
It's only when you're tapping furiously at the side of his head, furiously screaming, "YODA! FUCK- YODA-" that he's ungluing his puffy lips from your poor clit, breathing heavily with his eyes wide as ifhed just been set free from the shackles of a spell. You're crying. That's the first thing he noticed. The second is your quivering legs, shaking like autumn leaves in the wind. Your bottom lip is shaking too, that's what gets him scrambling beside you where he immediately envelops you in the warmth of his embrace.
"I'm sorry, Princess-" and you can tell he means it, but still you weep silently.
Your voice is quivering as you say, "You-You know I can't go again so quickly after... after..." Your chest rises and falls and rises and falls and Wonwoo immediately presses your face into his chest, to let you air out all the bad emotions onto his plain white tee.
"I thought I was doing something good for you, but I only ended up thinking about myself," he admits against your forhead, where his lips refuse to part.
"I just... needed a break from work-" he says, "I'm sorry," and you forgive him because It's him.
⤑Mingyu
"Shh," he whispers, pulling your braids across your shoulders as he makes direct eye contact with you in the mirror, "This'll be really quick, I promise."
"I dunno, bro-" you whisper back, despite your hands already gripping the marble finishes of the bathroom sink. "Your quickies are never as quick as they need to be-" you say, pushing you ass back against the bulge in his designer jeans as you lower your torso to the sink.
Mingyu smiled from the mirror, something diabolical, his hair cropped, and his skin crisp from the warm, orange glow of the bathroom. Outside, somewhere down a labyrinth of corridors, the rest of his group sat in the VIP section of the televised award show. All of them humming along to whatever group has taken the stage with the hopes that their rapper would make it out on time for their own performance.
"You just indirectly told me I last long, baby," he says, clutching his heart through his Balmain dress shirt while making heart eyes at you through the mirror.
"Hurry or you're gonna miss your-"
"Fuck you're so wet- why are you so wet?" Mingyu rubs the softness of your ass while examining the gush of arousal coating your panties. He lifts his head, "I'm going to breed you-"
"Mingyu-"
He's already pulling his pants down, quick enough to pull his dick out and shove it inside your cunt. Your lips part and your head pushes against the mirror and you're seeing absolute stars. Quickies with Mingyu always felt particularly barbaric because of how sloppy he tended to get. His tongue practically rolled out his mouth like the golden retriever he was so often described to be, while he rutted into you with some base heavy trap song pouring through the speakers.
"F-Fuck, Mingyu- please,"
What he thought was a silent plead for more, spurred Mingyu. He was an insatiable brute as he laid a hand on your back, pushing you further against the sink. When the side of your face hit the marble, your blood ran cold.
"I'm going to fucking breed you , baby." His eyes are obscured by heavily tinted designer shades and his head his thrown back in ecstasy. He was beginning to drill his cock into you and you were beginning to find there is nothing you can do about it.
"'Gyu- you can't come inside, you know that-"
"I really don't think you should be on those pills anymore, babe-"
You instinctively lift your head to try to glimpse him through the mirror because he was talking crazy. His hand lifts his shirt as he drills into you, revealing his chiseled core and a near perfect lopsided smile.
"Are you talking about my birth control?"
Instead of giving you a response: "Down-" He grunts, forcing you to bend over again as his thrusts became sloppily and sloppily, "Almost there, don'wanna miss the performance-"
"Mingyu you're not cumming inside me-"
"Fuck- why not? You're so perfect and so tight. Your body's just begging for me to fuck a baby into it-"
"PEPPERONI-" You scream immediately bullying him off of you until he's stumbling backwards and your back is pressed against the marble. You watch him shake his head, pants loose around his waist and yet he still somehow locked infuriatingly perfect.
"What the fuck- DUDE!" You can barely keep the anger from seeping out of your voice as you glare down your irresponsible boyfriend.
"WHAT THE FUCK-"
"I didn't finish!" he whines while stomping on the ground with his heavy sneakers.
"Were you seriously going to finish inside me!? After I explicitly told you-"
"Shh, shh," Mingyu says, stepping towards you to even out the angry creases on your forhead. "It was just for the fantasy, babe," he whispers, "Just for the fanatsy,"
⤑ Vernon
You didn't wanna say the word. It just sorta slipped. Straddling Hansol while some Pixar film played in the back was definitely not how you expected your second sexual encounter to go. There was still so much you had to learn about one another. Your bodies were vast fields of uncharted territory, and you weren't particularly sure Vermon would like all of those parts.
"Fuck, you're so hot- he whispers against your bare chest because discarding your shirt had been the first order of business. "So beautiful-"
You had begun rutting against him, with your skirt falling over his sweatpants, and your breathing became heavier and heavier. There was no explaining the tension that bubbled as your cunt rubbed greedily against his front but you were well aware of that feeling.
"God, you feel so damn good," he whispers, "You gonna cum for me?" Hansol's voice is utterly dripping with sex and all you can do is whimper as you dig your fingers into his hair- "Hansol, I-"
"Fuck, I think you're gonna cum from humping me, baby? Thats so hot..." A pool of wetness trickled from your cunt and it stole all the strength to immediately push yourself off screaming "NEMO-" you tapped out.
"Woah-" Vernon looks confused, justifiably so as you scoot to the floor, your legs quivering underneath you as your orgasm ebbed away.
"What do you need?"
You evade eye contact as you speak. "I just... didn't wanna disgust you or anything-"
"Dude, 'disgust' is literally the last thing on my mind. What's the problem?" You're still unable to make eye contact, causing Vernon to sigh as he sits forward with his elbows on his knees, to get closer to you in height.
"Is it the movie? I never though Pixar would end up being a cockblock-"
"I nearly squirted." You admit. "Like everywhere-"
A moment of silence swells between you two and you can feel your heart sinking with every passing second. You wish to be anywhere but here. You could already smell all the warm popcorn you would ingest out of heartbreak, all the movies you'd-
"Fuck, and you thought that would 'disgust' me?" You peer up at him in pure wonder while lust descends on his visage like a shadow. "Sit on my face right now."
#seventeen#seventeen headcanons#seventeen smut#seventeen carat#seventeen imagines#seventeen fanfic#svt smut#svt x reader#svt fanfic#svt#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol smut#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo smut#jeon wonwoo x reader#kim mingyu x you#kim mingyu x reader#mingyu smut#kim mingyu smut#vernon x reader#vernon smut#chwe hansol#hansol smut#hansol x reader#hansol vernon chwe#choi seungcheol#wonwoo#mingyu
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I hope its not much to ask but any chance you can make an Irene short pls? Her photos for her upcoming photobook is driving me nuts lol especially the one where shes lying sideways and looking at the tv.
You close the door behind you, take your shoes off and walk into the living room.
"You are still up?"
The love of your life lies on the couch in your shared apartment, watching TV. The room is just as dark as the night outside. You hesitate to switch on the lights, the blue shine of the screen illuminating your wife's gorgeous face.
"Of course I am."
It took her a moment to tear her eyes off the screen. But once she looks at you, her face grows softer.
"I always wait for you, when you work late."
"Yeah."
You lose your words, when you realize what Irene is wearing. Several years of marriage and you still can't help but feel like a stupid teenager when she looks this fantastic.
As she gets off the couch, the white shirt or dress slips down her frame. You can't really tell if it's your shirt or her dress, which she brought a couple of weeks ago. It's still dark. But you are disappointed nonetheless. It hides the beautiful curves of her hips.
"I left some of the food in the fridge, if you want me to heat it up for you?"
"I love you."
She smiles back at you, tiptoeing her way around the couch.
"Love you too."
She gives you a peck on your lips, before disappearing into the kitchen.
Once you are inside the bedroom, you quickly get rid off your suit and change into something more comfortable. After a quick stop at the bathroom, you enter the kitchen.
Your wife has already finished reheating the food she made.
"Thank you."
You lean over the kitchen table, kissing Irene's forehead.
"I'm just making sure you are not going to bed hungry."
You shake your head with a big smile on your face as you sit down in front of the meal.
What did you do in your past life to deserve such a woman like her? Caring, beautiful, loving, gorgeous, funny...
The list goes on and on.
As you reach for your fork, the dim light of the fridge makes the golden wedding ring on your finger shine. Irene wanted a fridge with a window in it, so it would be easier for her to see what she needs to buy, without having to open it everytime. Her own ring reflects the blue light as well.
How lucky are you? How is it possible that you are the man who was able to put that ring on her finger?
While you enjoy the food she made, you notice Irene looking at you. Her chin resting on her hand, her elbow on the table. A dreamy smile plays around her lips as she watches you eat.
"Do you have work tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow is Saturday, silly."
"Right."
Irene giggles as you focus back on your food.
"I thought we could do something together. Something in the city."
"What exactly?"
Irene leans a little forward, visibly excited and curious.
"I'll tell you tomorrow."
She pouts at you, leaning back a little.
"Is the cake already gone?"
You notice she didn't give you any as you reach the end of your meal. You don't have to tell her you enjoyed it. She knows it. She watched you the whole time.
"Well..."
Your wife gets off her chair and walks around the table.
"The cake is gone,"
She is now standing next to you, her hand resting on your shoulder. Irene leans down a little to whisper into your ear.
"but I'm sure we can find you something delicious to eat."
Irene kisses you right next to your ear, before walking into the bedroom. You look after her, watching how she moves with grace.
After quickly finishing the meal and putting away the dishes, you arrive at the bedroom door.
Irene is lying on the bed, her head resting on her hand again. She looks at you. But this time it's different. Gone is the loving, caring look she so often wears. It's replaced by a darker, almost evil stare. Her teeth slightly bite into her lower lip as she sees you standing in the doorway.
"Time for dessert, baby."
Despite her whispering, you can clearly hear her voice, dripping with lust.
You immediately get onto the foot of the bed. Grabbing her luscious thighs with your hands, you pull Irene closer. She is moaning already, knowing what's to come.
As you lean down, you suddenly realize that the pantyhose she is wearing is blocking your access. As if she read your mind, your wife shakes her head.
"Don't tear it open again. I have to buy a new one almost weekly."
"Now I know how you spend all my money."
Before she can protest, you rip the thin fabric apart. The loud tearing sound fills your bedroom for just a moment.
"Fuck."
Irene's head sinks into the pillow at your actions. Everytime you do this, she realizes she can just buy a new one.
Pulling her black panties to the side, you are greeted with her pink pussy. It's a meal you have had every day for the last years. A meal you can never grow tired of.
"Oh gosh, baby."
Irene moans as you tease her by kissing and licking her thighs. But when you are so close to her, you can't keep it up for long. Your kisses start to circle around her pussy. You tighten it further and further, until your lips finally meet her clit.
A loud whine echoes through the room. You can tell that Irene is biting her lips, trying to prevent louder sounds from escaping her mouth.
You indulge in your favorite meal. Your favorite dessert. Her most intimate part is yours.
Years of marriage have taught you everything you need to know about your wife. That includes her body. What she feels like, wherever you touch her. How she feels when you touch her. How to touch her. It's all in your mind. As if you wrote a book or painted a map. You know every inch of her skin like it's your own.
Small and quick kisses on her clit make Irene sigh and tug at her own hair her with her hand. Licks along her folds make her whimper, almost shake in anticipation. Burying your tongue inside her snatch makes her moan. Your hands on her thighs, massaging them, makes her melt.
The combination of all of the above makes sure that you give Irene the time of her life. Her flawless body is hit by wave after wave of pleasure. Her mouth can't seem to close and her hand eventually finds your head.
As she pushes you down, her nails digging into your scalp, you know that Irene is trying to fight a lost battle. A battle you've already won. From the moment you first placed your hands on her thighs a couple of minutes ago.
And the sound of victory is your wife's high pitched cry. Irene reaches her high, her mind going blank as her body betrays her. She has no control over it as she squirms and shakes on the sheets. Her wet pussy is dripping with her juices, leaving a wet spot on the sheets beneath her. Well, more like a puddle.
While she still rides out her orgasm, you plant kisses on her clit, almost apologetically.
With her taste still lingering on your lips, you quickly rid yourself of your clothing. Irene's chest rises and falls as she takes heavy breaths.
"Honey..."
She looks up at you. No other words are needed to express her gratitude, her satisfaction, her longing. Her eyes sparkle with lust as she silently begs you to fuck her.
Knowing how wet Irene becomes after her first orgasm, you align yourself with her snatch without any further preparation. You don't have time for that anyway. Her pussy captivates you, every time you catch a glimpse of it.
"Oh, god!"
Irene moans loudly as you push inside of her. Your hands on her thighs push them apart a little, making sure you have one of the most beautiful views anyone could have.
Your wife's gorgeous face twists in pleasure as you start to fuck her. Slow and deep at first, making her gasp, everytime you hit her cervix.
The lewd sounds her mouth makes eventually coax you into thrusting harder and faster. Irene's moans become louder, her thighs are a little shakey once more.
"You're so tight, baby."
You can't help but praise your wife. She is everything a guy would want in a partner and so much more. And her insides are no exception. The way her walls wrap around you, whenever you thrust into her. The way she squeezes your cock, making sure you feel just as good as she does.
The two of you quickly lose track of time. It was already late when you got home. Both of you were already tired from the long day. But this gives you new energy. New passion.
"More, baby."
Irene moans into your ear as she tears open old scratches on your back.
By now you've carried her to the window after finally undressing her completely. The torn pantyhose lying somewhere on the floor. Her bare back is pushed flat against the cold glass, causing goosebumps to cover her skin. Her legs are wrapped around your waist as you keep pounding into her with hard thrusts.
You kiss Irene's neck, making her moan even louder as you find her soft spot with ease. Her walls clench down on your cock at the same time. A not so silent battle about who makes the other person lose first. And losing is not bad at all. By no means. Losing has only one single outcome. Which is, cuming inside your wife. Something you would gladly do the entire day if you could. Something you did do every day, the entire day, when you were on your honeymoon.
"Babe..."
You gladly admit defeat as you keep pushing inside of your wife.
"Yes, baby. M-Me too..."
You feel Irene's walls squeezing and contracting around you. You plan on holding on throughout her orgasm, but you both know it's not meant to be.
With small "Love you"'s and kisses, the both of you cum at the same time. You feel yourself getting drained by Irene's contracting walls as she feels your load painting her insides. The two of you keep hugging each other in a tight embrace as you ride out your climaxes. Irene's usual squirming and shaking is reduced to a twitching of her stomach and abs, which welcome your cum inside her belly.
"I can't wait for another girl."
You chuckle into her neck.
"That's how you spend all my money."
She grins into yours, peppering your skin with kisses.
"Four times is the charm."
After showering together, you open the door at the end of the hallway. Both beds are occupied with two small figures, visibly sleeping. You kiss them both on their foreheads, before entering the room on the right. Your oldest is sound asleep too. She almost looks exactly like her mother.
"Sleep tight."
You whisper, before joining your wife in your bed.
-------------
Thank you for reading everyone!
I hope you guys enjoyed. I'm working on the next pieces, so stay tuned.
This got a little longer than I expected it to be. (As always)
I had to wait for the bus a little longer than usual, so I thought I would give this a shot.
Stay healthy!
#ask#anon#kpop#kpop smut#kpop girls#kpop gg#male reader#red velvet#red velvet smut#irene red velvet#irene#irene smut#bae joohyun#bae irene#authorhjk1shorts
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idk. i'm annoyed.
i realise i am a fandom old at this point
and i have seen some shit in this fandom; witnessed the discourse.
and i don't post meta or spec or much of that stuff; i usually put all my ideas into fics.
but guys seriously. seriously.
eddie's current arc is not about buck.
buck and eddie are not currently dating.
buck is eddie's best friend and vice versa.
eddie is not cheating on buck.
eddie is lying to buck by omission, yes, but that is not a friendship ending offence.
eddie is on the very cusp of cheating right now. he went on a date with another woman, yes. he has not kissed her or slept with her. we are at a tipping point. we do not know what is going to happen next.
he only went on a date with another woman because she reminded him of shannon, who he is not over, who he has spent seasons trying to replace.
the point of this show is that none of the characters are perfect - and especially not buck and eddie. they all make mistakes. they have all made mistakes and will continue to do so because in real life, people don't always make the right decisions 100% of the time.
this black-and-white, morally righteous way of thinking, like eddie is suddenly evil now because he's on the cusp of cheating; that it's going to end his friendship, that buck is going to be angry at him for lying - do you have friends in real life? like, i am genuinely asking.
because if my best friend suddenly started cheating on her husband, i wouldn't be mad at her - i would be worried. am i alone in this? like i would be genuinely concerned and trying to help figure out what's going on.
all the shit i'm seeing in the fandom today, all of the spec posts and commentary about the episode and what might potentially happen, just feels like, once again, an attempt to paint eddie as the villain in the story to prop up buck. let's make eddie so terrible that buck has to have custody of christopher, right?
clearly none of you understand how a will works. it's for after you're dead. not for when you're alive.
but the main issue is this - now that buck has tommy, the people who tolerated eddie can stop pretending to like him. there's another option for buck now, so you guys don't need eddie anymore. right? am i fucking right??
i love drama as much as the next person, but in what world would buck turn on eddie because of this? in what world would the 118 shun him? he is their friend! they love him! they care about him! they are a family!
my god, nobody shunned hen when she cheated on karen. nobody shuns bobby and he indirectly killed 140 people!
eddie is a good person who makes mistakes, just like every single other character on the show.
that is the fucking point.
and the way ryan was talking in the interviews - isolation could mean any number of things. we know eddie has a tendency to isolate himself when he's feeling stressed out - does anyone remember season 3? season 5? buck literally broke down his door!
i'm just fucking tired of this bullshit.
eddie's not a bad guy because of this. he has done shitty things, yes. they all have. that's the fucking point of the show, and if you can't understand that or appreciate adult story-telling, then fuck off and watch riverdale.
#this is a long rant and i'm sorry#but i'm just so fucking annoyed at all of the stupid spec i'm seeing#we know literally nothing but the bare minimum at this stage#and i will defend eddie goddamn diaz til the day i die
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Aziraphale hate makes my brain hurt.
Like let's be really fuckin' for real here.
Neurodivergent fans have repeatedly said that Aziraphale is autistic coded. I agree with them. I have never been diagnosed but I wonder about myself. If only I could get a doctor to take me seriously enough to test me for it, but alas, I'm a 43-year-old woman living in the good ole US of A.
Those with religious trauma have repeatedly said that they identify with him as well. I'm one of those people. I endured 12 years of Catholic schools and just as much time being taught a very black and white view of things that I've had to spend more than 20 goddamn fucking years working to unlearn.
I find that my views as a survivor of religious abuse are often dismissed because people keep wanting to say "Aziraphale doesn't have religious trauma." Yes, thank you, I get that, but unless you've been indoctrinated and brainwashed into a very black and white view of the world, you probably don't understand the kind of feelings Aziraphale's onscreen experiences evoke in so many of us. Heaven might not be real, but the feelings of "God is always watching" still stick with me today even though I no longer believe in God. I have entirely denounced Christianity because of my own personal experience, and I refuse to allow people to try and guilt me or shame me for trauma that I didn't ask for. I wasn't given a choice.
As a child I was told that God was real and always watching everything you do (just like Santa Claus) and can hear everything you say and knows everything you are thinking. Do you know what I learned to do in order to cope with this overwhelming and anxiety-inducing information as a small child? I learned to censor my thoughts. I never spoke up, and I have always felt like I was putting on a show for people because I had to be who I was told to be or I would get into trouble.
Aziraphale said "poverty is a virtue" during The Resurrectionists, and as someone who grew up in the Bible belt and went to private schools, I was taught this very same shit by the Catholic church. He learned in that very same episode that "poverty is a virtue" is actually a tool of oppression to keep the poor poor and the wealthy wealthy. I know we all watched the episode. He went into that episode believing what he said, but by the end of it he knew it was actually utter bullshit. Aziraphale is not ignorant. He's highly intelligent, and he has never been too proud to admit when he has been wrong. He accepts that the information he learned before is not matching up with reality.
And it's so obvious some of you have zero experience with that type of indoctrination because of how very little empathy you show Aziraphale for his "mistake" of "choosing Heaven over Crowley" and "making Crowley sad" so clearly Aziraphale must somehow be "abusive" and "manipulative" and "selfish" and "self-centered" because he didn't choose to run away with Crowley at the end of season two.
First of all.
FIRST OF ALL...
Aziraphale has a mind of his own.
Aziraphale is always going to try and do what is right.
Aziraphale is an angel. He's a being of love. And the reason he's so "bad" at being an angel is because he actually wants to protect humanity. He has always loved humanity. He repeatedly has to contend with what is "right" versus what is "good" and "wrong" versus "evil". Yeah, he has flaws. He's an angel, not a goddamn fucking saint. He has lived on Earth for more than 6,000 years. He has seen everything. He loves doing human things.
He's obsessed with magic. It makes him so happy. He's not very good at it...well not when he's trying to put on a show for Crowley.
He chose to learn French the hard way, so even though he knows every single language in the world, he chooses to be mediocre at French. Something that annoys and amuses Crowley at the same time.
He loves to dance even though angels aren't supposed to dance, and dancing with Crowley was what he wanted the most.
He owns a bookshop and refuses to sell any of his books because they are books he's had for as long as there have been books. He will chase customers away from his collection, and Crowley understands how much they mean to Aziraphale because he refuses to sell any when Aziraphale leaves him in charge.
He and Crowley have been speaking to each other in coded language for more than 6,000 years. They have to be very careful about what they say because Heaven and Hell are always watching.
Heaven has photographs of Crowley and Aziraphale sitting or standing together throughout history. Hell had one photo of Crowley and Aziraphale actually working together and it was Aziraphale's quick thinking and how good he actually is at sleight of hand tricks that managed to get that photo out of Furfur's hands so he wouldn't be able to turn Crowley over to the Dark Council.
Aziraphale saved Crowley from being taken to Hell again. He wasn't able to save Crowley from Hell in Edinburgh, but he sure as heck managed to save Crowley from Hell during WWII. He took Crowley to his bookshop and showed Crowley that he stole the picture from Furfur. He saved Crowley.
You get that, right?
Aziraphale SAVED Crowley.
People always talk about how it's "always Crowley saving Aziraphale" because apparently heroic acts are only heroic when they are grand gestures. The sleight of hand wasn't heroic at all, am I right? It wasn't sparkly and showy. It wasn't interesting enough, therefore not heroic. At least that's all I'm hearing when people start with their "blah Aziraphale deserves to suffer because I have no imagination or ability to understand the media in front of me blah", and all these reasons he deserves to suffer is because Crowley almost got hurt.
Aziraphale did that without flinching and I watch that part closely every single time. He's not scared for himself. He's scared for Crowley, and he managed to hold onto that photograph. He did not fail Crowley. He protected Crowley.
And so here's another thing that we like to point out. The way that Aziraphale, an angel who is effeminate and male presenting, an angel who is soft and full of love, an angel who is kind and forgiving because he has empathy and compassion, is somehow painted as abusive and manipulative. He's not violent, but he could easily fuck up your world. He doesn't use his powers. We have no idea how powerful he is because we only ever see him do small acts. He's used to hiding. It's the only way he has ever been able to protect Crowley.
And I'm not saying that Aziraphale has actually saved Crowley before means that Crowley hasn't also saved Aziraphale. Like, you get that those are not mutually exclusive and their relationship is not transactional, right? They have spent their entire existence protecting each other but never actually getting to be together because Heaven and Hell are always watching.
Yeah, Crowley fell. We all know this. We are aware of this. He was the serpent of Eden. He gave humanity the knowledge of free will.
But what we don't talk about is what Aziraphale gave humanity.
What did he give them?
We all know what it is!
Let's say it together!
He gave Adam and Eve his flaming sword because it was dangerous outside the garden and Eve was pregnant and she was already having a really bad day. He showed them compassion and gave them his extremely powerful angelic weapon so they would stand a chance on the outside of the garden. He gave humanity the gift of compassion. It's just unfortunate that his flaming sword became a weapon of War.
And then what did he do after that?
Ooooh, yeah, that's right.
God asked him about it and he straight up lied to her and pretended he had no idea where he'd managed to misplace it. She didn't say anything after that. He told Crowley the truth though. He told Crowley the truth even though Crowley fell.
Yeah, we know Aziraphale has done some really fucking questionable things. He and Crowley both suck at passing for human in front of observant people like Nina. They're not human. They are still learning, but they managed to experience human history together despite being on opposite sides and their experiences with humanity are what has shaped them into the compassionate and loving duo they are now. One of them is not better from the other.
This, my friends, is what we call meeting in the middle. It's why shades of gray is so important. Aziraphale constantly breaks the rules. Crowley refused to play by Heaven's rules. It's the reason he fell. He doesn't play by Hell's rules either. These two dorks figured out how to cancel each others' miracles out throughout human history in order to have more time learning about humanity and each other because working all day every day sucks when there are so many new things to learn and experience with the people you love.
We know Crowley and Aziraphale both love each other. Neither of them are good at hiding the hearts stars in their eyes.
But here's what's really fucking annoying about the Aziraphale hate.
Aziraphale was already crying when Crowley grabbed him and kissed him. Aziraphale is trying so very hard to do the right thing. He loves Crowley. He does. But he also has a duty to humanity, and he has taken that job very seriously since the creation of Adam and Eve. He sent them out into the world with a flaming sword so they would have a chance at surviving beyond the walls of the garden.
And he knows that Something Terrible is going to happen and he spent all of second season trying to figure out what that Something Terrible was while trying to have some sort of more honest and open relationship with Crowley, but again, they aren't human, they are a demon and an angel approaching life from opposite sides who met in the middle and fell in love with humanity together.
He wants more than anything to tell Crowley how he feels about him, but he wants to do something grand for Crowley because Crowley has always been grand and dramatic and sexy and a little bit scary.
Crowley is impulsive and has a temper and sometimes says the wrong thing but he has always trusted Aziraphale because Aziraphale gave him a chance even after he fell. Aziraphale chose to shelter him instead of smiting him while they stood on top of that wall. He knew he was supposed to kill Crowley, but oops, he gave his sword away to the humans so he didn't really have anything to kill him with and Crowley is the one who created nebulas. The Pillars of Creation is Crowley's work and Aziraphale was there to witness that, but he watched Crowley more than he watched the nebula. He witnessed the pure joy on Crowley's face when he said "let there be light" as a nebula full of colors exploded before their eyes. He was fascinated by Crowley.
But Aziraphale is going back to Heaven even though he has made it perfectly clear he absolutely has no desire to go back to Heaven. He told the Metatron this during their conversation. He spoke these words out loud. They exist.
But then The Metatron said this....
The Metatron. The very same angel who told Aziraphale in season one "to speak to me is to speak to the Almighty." He's the boss. He's the big guy. He's used to existing as a giant head and he had to give himself a body so he wouldn't stand out on Earth. And he knows that Aziraphale and Crowley have been working together since the beginning. He knows they worked together to prevent Armageddon in season one, and now he's made it clear he knows they were working together long before that. And let's face it, Aziraphale really wants to know what this Something Terrible is that Gabriel is running from so he can try to prevent it from happening.
It makes sense that he would want to take Crowley to Heaven with him because he would be able to keep Hell from getting their hands on him again. Aziraphale hates it in Heaven. He doesn't want to go, but Something Terrible is happening and Metatron isn't taking no for an answer, and maybe Heaven won't be so bad if Crowley is there with him. At least they can fix Heaven together.
But Crowley can't go back. We all get that. We don't blame him for saying no. It doesn't change anything.
Something Terrible is about to happen and Aziraphale has to figure out what it is. He wants to change Heaven.
He is fully aware that Heaven sucks. He still has faith in God. His faith isn't in Heaven. He deserted his platoon in season one and threw himself back to Earth so he could figure out how to make sure the war between Heaven and Hell doesn't happen.
But see, here's the thing. Heaven is at the top. Heaven has all the resources. Heaven is responsible for the creation of Hell. Heaven is empty and Hell is overpopulated. Aziraphale knows this. Crowley knows this. It's obvious every time we see either place. Both sides are desperate to go to war and will not hesitate to destroy humanity in the process. This is the opposite of what Crowley and Aziraphale want for humanity. If anyone can change Heaven, it's Aziraphale. He's the only one up there who gives a shit about humanity as far as we know. No one else is going to speak on humanity's behalf.
Some of us are so busy getting mad at Aziraphale for going back to Heaven and giving Crowley a Big Sad. Newsflash: Crowley is not the main character of Good Omens. Aziraphale and Crowley are equals, yet we wanna hold Aziraphale to higher standards because he's an angel, and when he makes mistakes it's proof that he's the bad guy.
Holy mother of all things that trigger my religious trauma, let me tell you. I spent my entire life hating myself every time I made mistakes. I've had to teach myself that just because I mess up sometimes doesn't mean I'm bad. It means I'm human. I still struggle with it. I probably always will. So when you say that Aziraphale deserves to be punished for breaking Crowley's heart, you not only ignore that Aziraphale's heart is also broken, you're saying he deserves to be punished for doing what he thinks is right.
Wanting to change Heaven for the better is not a bad thing.
And some of y'all wanna see him suffer for going back into the lion's den that is Heaven, knowing that he is already an outcast, that they have already tried to kill him once, knowing that he is a deserter, that he has been lying to Heaven about a lot of things, and you still think he's blinded by Heaven? You think he's just so naive and that's the only reason he's going back. He doesn't show his emotions the same way Crowley does so it means he doesn't care as much. He's expected to consider Crowley's feelings over his own when making choices. Like holy shit if all of that hasn't defined my experience as a woman with religious trauma in this fucking society. He's expected to be subservient to Crowley and if he doesn't do what Crowley wants then he's being unreasonable and illogical.
What the actual fuck, y'all.
Like seriously.
I'm sick of this bullshit. I had to step away from this fandom because of how toxic some people in this fandom are. It's not chasing me away, but the fact that I chose to hang out in a a more toxic fandom that is already notorious for being really toxic over a fandom that claims to be more open-minded and welcoming should probably tell you something.
It gave me a lot of perspective, and yeah, I'm still gonna speak up against the bullshit Aziraphale hate.
People are entitled to their opinions, but the Aziraphale hate isn't an opinion. It's just ableist, misogynistic garbage. At this point we all know y'all say these extreme things about Aziraphale because y'all get more joy out of the harm and alienation it is causing others.
Keep being loudly wrong, but if you think I'm not entitled to challenge shitty-ass, harmful, hateful discourse, bite my ass.
I'm not the one who lost the plot in this fandom.
#autistic coded character#religious trauma#good omens#aziraphale#aziraphale defense squad#i'm in a mood#like i'm begging y'all to learn what empathy is#like goddamn i know i'm not perfect but at least i don't forget that the reason for everything in good omens is love#neil has said this several times#it's one thing to dislike a character#it's another to assassinate characters in ways that blatantly contradict what the narrative has told us#and try to pass it off as canon#if you wanna send me hate just hit the block button instead#i'll try to be really sad about it#and if you just have to send me hatemail at least have the courage to attach it to your name instead of hiding behind anon#i'm too old for this shit#i'm gonna go back to the star wars tag now#it's been a minute since i went off and today proved to be the perfect day for it
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EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE (2022) PROMPTS
* assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary
in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.
the universe is so much bigger than you realize.
maybe we would have been better off if we had never gotten married.
why are you dressed all stupid?
you're just very bad at explaining.
how did i die?
he who loves the most regrets the most.
why would anybody want to kill me?
it's the way you look at me.
how do you think i feel?
you can either come with me and live up to your ultimate potential, or lie here and live with the consequences.
do you still want to do your party?
you are not unlovable. there is always something to love.
you think i'm weak, don't you?
can we just stop fighting?
you're capable of anything because you're so bad at everything.
i'm tired. i don't want to hurt anymore.
i still want to be here with you. i will always, always want to be here with you.
if nothing matters, then all the pain and guilt you feel for making nothing of your life goes away.
we're all small and stupid.
i wasn't looking for you so i could kill you.
so what? you're just gonna ignore everything else?
i will cherish these few specks of time.
i've been on this earth just as many days as you.
i know better than to ask to help you.
so we'll talk later... like this afternoon?
you look really pretty right now.
you took everything away from me.
we're all useless alone.
i don't know what i'd do without you.
i only made enough food for three people. i'll have to cook more.
i always learn something when i hang out with the elderly. old people are very wise.
everything i do, i try to make things simpler, easier.
maybe you can audition, too.
i don't know how to be any fucking clearer.
i didn't mean that. it was a joke.
the only thing i do know... is that we have to be kind.
i know you see yourself as a fighter.
that's not a very funny joke.
actors are very poor.
it's nice to feel needed.
i was thinking, maybe after this is all done, we can go on a trip.
if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode.
you may be in grave danger. there is no time to explain. hold this.
can't you see how wonderful it'll be? we can make our own way.
i'm here because we need your help.
sorry, very busy today. no time to help you.
i have spent years searching for the one who might be able to match this great evil with an even greater good and bring back balance.
i know it's a lot to take in right now.
i can see where this story's going, and it doesn't look good.
you're always trying to confuse us with these words.
i know you. with every passing moment, you fear that you might have missed your chance to make something of your life.
don't let anything distract you from it.
our time here is up. they are going to kill us.
i may be old, but i still know how to negotiate.
#rp meme#mcflymemes#rp memes#rp prompt#roleplay memes#roleplay prompt#rp starters#ask meme#ask memes#roleplay meme#roleplay inbox prompts#rp inbox meme#inbox prompt#inbox meme#sentence starter prompt#sentence starter#sentence starters#everything everywhere all at once
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Midnight Pals: Mothers day Meltdown
[mysterious circle of robed figures]
JK Rowling: hello children
Rowling: I was just thinking about how transs people should be eliminated from ssociety
Jonathan Chait: whoa whoa whoa! joanne!
Chait: you can't say it like THAT
Chait: so uncouth
Chait: you have to say it with your pinky finger extended
Elon Musk: si! issa no good!
Musk: issa too mucha trans genocide
Musk: you shoulda only post the right amount offa da trans geocide
Musk: lookita me, i lika da trans genocide
Musk: but i also like many other genocides
Rowling: oh MY GOD
Rowling: my empire is crumbling!
Chait: we're not saying you can't still be transphobic
Chait: you just have to, you know, cool it a bit
Chait: be genteel about it
Jesse Singal: mommy mommy i have concerns mommy!
Chait: see? just like that
Chait: maybe put a little disclaimer
Chait: "this transphobia is for entertainment purposes only"
Rowling: do you not know who I am?? I'm JK Rowling!
Rowling: JK FUCKING ROWLING!!!
Rowling: I MADE YOUR CHILDHOOD MAGICAL!
Rowling: no one tellss me to cool it!
Rowling: i own the courtss!
Chait: joanne
Rowling: and another thing!!!
Rowling: SSTOP CALLING ME JOANNE!
[midnight society]
JK Rowling: hello children
Barker: oh look who it is
Barker: what are you doing here joanne?
Barker: did your terfs tell you to cool it again?
Rowling:
Rowling: why doess everyone call me joanne
Rowling: i'm extremely mad about thiss transs football referee
Barker: what?
Rowling: this transs football referee
Barker:
Barker: what?
Rowling: there's a transs football referee and i'm really mad about it!
Rowling: what, haven't you heard?
Barker: joanne, why are you here
Rowling: and another thing!
Rowling: sstop calling me joanne!!
Rowling: people are alwayss all "joanne this" and joanne that!
Rowling: wah wah wah joanne joanne joanne!
Barker: do you not like your name
Barker: you could change it
Poe: clive
Poe: just let her tire herself out
Barker: no no I've got something here
Rowling: people are alwayss "oh wah wah wah joanne, how can you ssay that! your bookss are all about tolerance and love wah wah wah!"
Rowling: bitch i think i know what my booksss are about!
Rowling: i fuckin wrote them after all!
Rowling: blah blah blah ohh joanne
Rowling: i hate when people call me joanne!!
Rowling: they should fear to say my true name!
Barker: oh damn look at that
Barker: looks like we're having a good ol' fashioned mothers day meltdown
Poe: clive don't encourage this
King: but joanne! how can you say that?
King: after all the lessons of harry potter?
King: you made our childhoods magical!
Rowling: people are all "blah blah blah joanne how can you like naziss now when you ssaid they were bad in harry potter"
Rowling: first of all, harry potter iss fiction!
Rowling: secondly, the death eaters are actually a ssinister coalition of evil transs, sspooniess, fat people, free masonss, and diane duane
Rowling: always have been!
Rowling: thiss iss NOT a retcon!
Rowling: that sshould be obviouss if you've read the book
Rowling: UNLESSS
Rowling: you're a fake potterhead, ssteve
King: no of course not! i love harry potter
Rowling: DO YOU
Rowling: perhaps then
Rowling: you would be willing to take a blood oath to the dark lord
Rowling: to belong to the dark lord body and ssoul
Rowling: who is always correct
King: i uh don't think i'm going to take that oath, sorry
Rowling: UGH!
Rowling: this is just like Radcliffe all over again!
#midnight pals#the midnight society#midnight society#clive barker#stephen king#edgar allan poe#jk rowling#jesse singal#elon musk#jonathan chait
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I think what bugs me the most about what happened today other than the fact that I was the one getting vagued is the fact that the conversation got warped into one that is about morality and not simply theorizing on The Ravens and how The Nest works
my original post essentially said two things:
The Ravens are victims and to erase that because they don't fit the model of the perfect victim and some have even become abusers erases all nuance from that portion of Jean and Kevin's lives and the surrounding discussion
Cults are weird. I grew up in one. And it is very easy to manipulated by one and to feel trapped and to also be completely in the dark about what is happening in a cult even when you're in the heart of it
I did not say anyone had to forgive the Ravens (they're fictional characters. fake people. that wasn't even on my mind) or that any of them are by any means good people. i also didn't say that they were all oblivious or that there weren't some of them that were abusive. I also never made this a conversation about morality and whether or not the Ravens are good or bad people for staying in a cult.
For some reason that got warped into what we are currently discussing and involved some highly insensitive language surrounding cult victims including things being said like it's not crazy to expect people to walk away from things like scholarships, financial security, or career security if it means being complacent in abuse and that it's "just basic morals".
And I'm sorry for getting personal on this but as a cult survivor I think that's one of the most upsetting and insensitive things I have heard come from these conversations today.
It doesn't matter what x thing is whether it's money or food or housing or a career. In a cult they use whatever it is you need and make you dependent on them for it. Also with the Ravens in particular keep in mind it wasn't simply being complacent in abuse. They were being abused.
If you have been in a similar situation, if you are grappling with the guilt of leaving a cult or anything like a cult, know that you are not a moral failure for having stayed for as long as you did. You are not moral failure for staying for whatever reason you did. It is not just basic morals when it comes to living in a cult. Morality becomes warped and the concept of what is immoral and moral is something completely different and that is intentional.
It doesn't matter whether you think the Ravens were aware of Riko's abuse or not. Having differing opinions on that is completely okay. What you don't get to do is turn it into a conversation about morality where you then get to insult cult survivors like we're evil people for not walking away at the first red flag because we needed something. Because we were in survival mode and we weren't able to focus on other people.
We still don't have all the details on how the Ravens function or the type of abuse players even outside of the perfect court face other than it was extreme. It's fun to theorize. And it's okay if people disagree. But if you can't be mindful about where your opinion switches from theory to some huge declaration of moral high ground then you've lost the fucking plot.
I would love to talk more about the Ravens and my theories on them. I would love to talk more about how cults work and why I think it's possible they were completely unaware of Riko's abuse. There's a lot of nuance in those conversations and I would love to take the time to treat them with the care they deserve. I'm also still incredibly upset by a lot of the things said today and I can acknowledge that this is a topic that is very personal to me. So this is me opening up that can of worms (again) and I'm more than happy to have those conversations and answer questions but please be patient with me because if it isn't already obvious this is a topic that is incredibly sensitive to me
#idek what i'm saying with this anymore#i'm just tired#aftg#tsc#the sunshine court#all for the game#jean moreau#kevin day#neil josten#riko moriyama#andrew minyard#jeremy knox#david wymack#tetsuji moriyama#thea muldani#edgar allan ravens#palmetto state foxes#aaron minyard#nicky hemmick#matt boyd#allison reynolds#renee walker#dan wilds#tsc spoilers#ish ig#personal.txt
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Still hyped but ngl that's a bit of a downer.
#transformers earthspark#tfe#like we just got done with a whole season that established the autobot/decepticon conflict is more nuanced and complicated#than just black and white good vs evil#but now it's just back to basics again#what i'm most disappointed by is starscream being the big bad#mans had such a good episode and arc in season 1#are they just going to ignore his bond with hashtag?
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hii! I was wondering If you could write Detective x supervillain, I love the way you write their dynamic and would love to see more of it. If not, that's totally alright. thank you in advance!
hey hey! sure thing. this may not be the vibe you were looking for, but this was the first idea that popped into my head and i liked it, so... yeah!
also, a quick sidenote: I don't know what I did to deserve such polite and sweet anon asks recently, but... thank you! y'all are so kind and it restores my faith in the internet. thanks for being so cool <3
"Detective," the supervillain smirks. They're conflicted as they watch the detective flinch hard and spin around in their chair with wide eyes. Their fear is delightful, but... Something about the display turns the supervillain's stomach. The detective's fear isn't fading, the supervillain realizes, even though they've met their gaze. In the past, the detective would relax after seeing them. The supervillain studies them for another moment, the words slipping from their lips before they can stop them. "In all the years you've known me, you've never been afraid of me."
The detective's expression sours. "Maybe I didn't really know you, then." They snap with uncharacteristic forcefulness, crossing their arms over their chest. The detective's gaze hasn't left theirs since the supervillain first made their presence known. There's a new wariness in the detective's eyes.
"What the hell is with you?" The supervillain feels the need to ask. They make sure the question is disguised in a heavy layer of expectant frustration, rather than the genuine confusion and betrayal they think they may be feeling deep down.
"You just killed six people-" the detective chokes out, shaking their head. The supervillain glances at the utter mess on their desk. The detective has evidently been looking at the photographs of the crime scene the supervillain just created a few hours ago.
"Sweetheart," the supervillain says patronizingly, making sure to look down at the detective as if they're a pet that has misbehaved. "I'm a supervillain. Class X and everything. You shouldn't be surprised when I commit crimes."
"I know that," the detective hisses angrily, pushing themself to their feet. The supervillain is surprised by the sheer amount of emotion in their voice. It doesn't take them very long to rationalize the detective's new attitude.
"Oh, I see what happened," the supervillain realizes aloud, a grin growing on their face despite the dread coiling in their stomach, begging them to turn back while they still can- "You let your guard down."
"No, I didn't-" The detective argues immediately.
"You did," the supervillain interjects before they can stop themself. That old, sick glee is back. They embrace it like an old friend. "You thought, even for the briefest of moments, that I would abstain from cruelty."
The detective doesn't respond, proving their suspicions correct. The supervillain laughs. "That's hilarious. Did you think that our conversations, that this-" They motion between the two of them, "-was making me a better person? Thwarting my evil, perhaps?"
The detective is infuriatingly silent. Their brows are furrowed and their expression is pinched. There's an unfamiliar tightness to their posture.
"Maybe you need a reminder," the supervillain hums, extending a hand and raising their hand. The detective rises until they're floating in air, strangled by an unseen force. "I am not, nor will I ever be, a good person."
"I am a rotten, despicable being. You can't save me or redeem me—although you have certainly tried." The latter statement is spoken with a sort of detached amusement.
As the detective's airways grow tighter, the supervillain sees that same expression again—fear glimmering in the detective's typically dull eyes. They grit their teeth. The nausea they felt before is returning. The detective is writhing in their unseen confines, struggling against their hold. Growling at their own weakness, the supervillain lets their hand fall to their side. The detective promptly falls to the ground, coughing and choking as they regain their breath.
The supervillain feels like they're spectating—a mere observer as someone else pilots their body and forces their thoughts out into the open air. "I can't promise to be so merciful the next time we meet." The supervillain announces, clenching and unclenching their fist. They don't think the statement is for the detective's benefit. Rather, it's to hold themself accountable.
"You weren't merciful," the detective says disbelievingly, their voice raspy. They're still kneeling on the ground. They let out a small cough.
"Maybe you don't really know my mercy, then," the supervillain hums, playing on the detective's words from earlier. Their gaze meets the detective's and a sort of new understanding passes between them. Whatever they had before is decimated—abandoned out of necessity. The supervillain turns on their heel and walks away, brutally aware of the detective's surprised, betrayed gaze pinned on their back—a gaze that has evidently morphed into hatred.
The two of them had a good thing going, the supervillain supposes. There was a sort of unspoken truce between them for a while there. When the supervillain needed information, they asked the detective—and vice versa. There had been some close calls between them over the years, but never anything as clear-cut as what the supervillain did mere moments ago.
The supervillain has always been self-sufficient; they've survived and thrived for centuries on their own. So... why does the prospect of continuing on without the detective's presence sound so daunting?
©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.
thanks for reading <3
(the supervillain definitely isn't force choking the detective.... definitely not... ha... ha.... ha.... sigh)
tag list: @lateuplight @wit-is-wisdom @greengableswriting @whump-me-all-night-long @noawhite @rekhyt-of-arcadia @the-blind-one-speaks @sufferfictionalcharacters @basically-psyduck @alexkolax @subval01 @emerald-blade @felicia609 @surplus-of-sarcasm @ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit @a-chaotic-gremlin @unknownogre @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @whatwhumpcomments @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @agayprince @starsick1979 @a-lonely-little-ghost @agayprince @plum-tello
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#defectivehero#hero x villain#heroes and villains#writing#writeblr#short fic#snippet#writers on tumblr#spilled ink#detective x villain#detective x supervillain#the monopoly I have over this pairing#/hj#/hj but also /srs#/idk anymore
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"Influencing influencers"
Im Byron, im kinda popular on the media, wouldnt call myself an influencer but at least an small celebrity for certain people: gay guys. Im popular between gay guys.
Then there is this guy, Tod, he do Is an influencer, another gay guy pretty popular, and we have done some colaboration videos, thanks to this i got a bit of highlights recently, getting more followers, but just some days ago Tod posted something off, at least for his usual:
Fart jokes? Superhero referentes? Both together!? Really weird if you ask me to. The situation got weirder when a lot of popular guys from the "gymbro side" of the media started comenting, celebrating his video... And he wrote back, in the weirder way posible:
"@markobroskii: Sick Bro! Superman Is next
@Tody_yourguy: Aded to the list broski!"
Didnt tought too much about It until he post a video that made my jaw drop:
He wasnt just wearing clothes that didnt match his usual but he was in the lingerie zone playing with the undies, saying he was making the zone 'More enjoyable to the View"
That sell the deal. I send his a message and went to his place to check on him.
In the way to his place i saw his @ on media changing to @Tod_thebro.
Wtf!?
When arrived, i notice diferences since he open the door, he stank!
- Jesus! Tod, thats your smell!?
- Yeah, some bro scent, go ahead bro, take a sit - he said With a voice that sounded diferent, he was talking with this "Frat Bro" acent we used to laugh about.
His apartament was now a mess, full of empty - and not so empty - pizza boxes, empty beer cans, dirty clothes, and sticky looking socks... He offer me a beer from a brand i didnt knew, but i'm not really a drinker so maybe thats why. I took it just to be polite, took some sips... Wasnt that bad.
Tried to find the cleanest place and thats where i sat.
- Sup bro, what did you wanna talk about?
- Well... About this... - I said looking around -Whats happening? First that gross fart video - I saw him chuckle when i mentioned that - then that also gross video on the lingerie store and Now... Look at your apartament, what hapened?
- I woke up bro - thats his only answer.
- Huh?
- I realice that gay life wasnt right for me
- What the fuck you- he interupt me
- Going to the gym, no worries about skin care routine - he keep talking - no worries even about showers, not washing my butt every-time-i-have-a-date - he said that words sounding indeed really sick of it- or not washing my butt at all, no using it for please other guys, just using it for this:
After saying that he lifted a leg and rip a long, smelly and loud fart
PRRRRRRFFFFFFFTTTFFFF the fart resonated for all the place, stinking everything, i had to cover my nose inmediatly, which make Tod laugh.
- Tod, theres no way to go straight, u have always been against that believe!
- Used to, but theres way, and you Will UAAARP agree soon
- What do you mean? - i said confused, and a bit of worried
- See, my awaking start when i had the first can of a beer from this weird brand a hot masc guy gave me, that same beer you are drinking now
Oh fuck.
- Oh n-OOUUUURRRRRP
- It's already starting, bro
- Theres no way, uh-PRRRRRRFFTTTFFFF
Tod was smiling with and almost evil smile, chugged a can of beer, belched and said: Cheers bro.
While here, I was burping non-stop, feeling my brain a bit foggy... Why I was worried about?
...
@ morningboy💕:
Oh!, Byron finally posted something, and it looks like a colab with Tod! Maybe he make him come back to his senses, all his 'turning straight' story really afect to the community.
Anyways lets see the video...
Ok, that outfit was a choice, Byron - I tough
Keep watching.
Oh... Oh no, is Byron having a fart contest with Todd!?
This feels wrong... Wait! Why his user just changed to @Byb-ronski...
#dumber#male tf story#gay to straight#fart kink#gay#fart#bottom to top#alpha bro#male tfs#fart story
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Hello. I've put ina fee requests because I love you writing. Would you be able to write one where baby sainz is in a relationship with Erling Haaland and the boys absolutely dislike it and but there is Actually nothing they can do or stop it. Thank you 😊
So, I honestly know nothing about him, so I kind of improvised.
Enjoy reading and send some rquests
-XoXo
Prince Charming
Why does this happen every time? First it was Dominik, then it was Paulo and now this idiot. Erling Haaland. With his stupid blonde hair and stupid football job.
The drivers were sat grumpily around the room. Each one of them had try to scared him away Individual. For example:
"Woah, ohh no. I'm so sorry" said George. But heavens sake he was anything but sorry. However when he saw Haaland waiting for Amira in front of the Ferrari garage, he knew he had to do something. So with his nice and warm tea, he "accidentally" tripped right on Haaland's shirt. "Oh no. Your shirt. Maybe you should go home and never come back" George said it so quickly it came out like a witch curse. "Ah, don't worry mate. Nothing that hasn't happened before. Thankfully, I always keep an extra shirt in my bag in case of something like this" Haaland replied nicely. "Yay" George muttered sarcastically.
Or the one time where Yuki had to throw knifes during cooking and he nearly cut of Erling's head. But not even that made him stop hanging around Amira. The only thing he said was: "I think you dropped this, mate" picked up the knife and gave him a friendly smile. Yuki only glared back at him.
And let's not forget Lando's attempt at starting rumours about him. That one was a bit extreme. But luck seemed to be on Haalands side. Because no-one, really no-one cared in China about a man called Erling Haaland.
The drivers truly tried everything to get rid of him, but he was like an evil cough. "I tried to convince my father that he was bad news for Amira" Carlos admitted. "What went wrong" asked Daniel quietly, almost as if he was afraid about the answer. "He told me that my abuela like him. And what my abuela says is law in our home" he said defeated.
"Did-Did we truly just los her on a boy that runs after balls like a dog" Charles asked. He looked really traumaticed. The only thing Max did was lay a hand over his shoulder, a silent form of comfort.
Erling Haaland. The man that bagged Amira Sainz. Number 1 enemy at the paddock
#formula 1#baby!sainz!sister#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x sister!reader#formula 1 x reader#george russell x reader#yuki tsunoda x reader#erling haaland
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Okay well as you may know from looking at my blog for five seconds, I saw the matinee for Starkid Innit. During the interval and after the show I wrote down some notes. I tried to get them in chronological order but my memory is dogshit and I definitely missed some stuff, I hope you appreciate it though.
Outside:
. EVERYONE SUNG GRANGER DANGER
. IT WAS SO GOOD (except for the high note lmao)
. EVERYONE SUNG DAYS OF SUMMER
. EVERYONE A SMALL GROUP OF PEOPLE SUNG GOIN' BACK TO HOGWARTS
Act 1:
. The Nightmare Time sting punched me in the face
. The shout-out to the confused parents
. BRIAN + MEREDITH IN TGWDLM IS EVERYTHING TO ME
. High School Is Killing Me, Literal Monster and Nerdy Prudes Must Die all got mashed together!
. Corey!Richie is my Roman Empire
. Jaime in NPMD….
. Jaime had a different line to PJ’s original in Literal Monster. I couldn't hear half of it but it was different
. JEFF!MAX
. THE AUDIENCE SINGING RICHIE'S PART!!!!!! I'M NOT A LOSERRRRRRR
. TOGETHER!!!!!
. OUR DOORS ARE OPEN
. Jaime singing Sami/Harry ABOUT HER DOG (Nori)
. The audience whipping out the phone cameras
. CLARK SINGING I WAS GAVE ME SUCH INTENSE CHILLS
. Joey finally giving the white, male side characters attention
. Joey changing “I know I'm not a star” to “I know I'm not Clark”
. He pointed the mic at the audience for the “DEFINITELY NOT!”
. Joey mistimed his jump 😔😔
. Genuinely his best performance of Sidekick yet
. Joey making fun of Brian for not getting a big solo
. Brian kept pretending to beat him up, it was brilliant
. Not Over Yet is definitely Brian's song, shut up
. Brian accidentally singing the same verse twice (How does he always mess this song up?!?!?)
. My mum took a photo during the “EVIL PLAAAAANSSSS” bit and it was right when Brian was choking Joey
. “So look alive and don't forget”
“FORGET WHAT?”
. FEAST OR FAMINE
. Rogues Are We still goes so hard
. Rogues Medley without Kick It Up A Notch is weird, but Kick It Up A Notch without Dylan would definitely be weirder
Intermission:
. Ice cream :D
Act 2:
. Starting with We Got Work To Do is so iconic
. THERE'S BEEN A CHANGE IN THE CLIMATE, SOMETHING'S IN THE AIR, WE FEEL THE HEAT, NO NEED TO DEFINE IT, WE DON'T REALLY CARE
. MEREDITH REQUESTED BACK ON TOP!!!!!!!! AND IT WAS SO GOOOOD!!!!!!!
. Joey shouted “Draco, get on the floor!” at Lauren
. ALL THE UNDERRATED SONGS
. I love how it was hyped up like it was going to be Boy Toy, and then just straight up wasn't lmaooo
. Brian finally got the slow, sexy Hideous Creatures (Take that, Nick Lang!)
. Okay I'm trying to remember the order of the underrated songs they did
. Hideous Creatures (Lauren)
. Pays To Be an Animal (Corey) (He didn't sit in the spotlight and someone yelled “TO THE LEFT, COREY”)
. Get In My Mouth (Jeff) (He fully sprawled out on the stage it was hilarious)
. Land of the Dicks (Jaime)
. Hermione Can't Draw (Meredith) (She sung it so well I briefly didn't recognise the song)
. THEY MANAGED TO WORK IN LUPIN / BRIAN CAN'T SING YESSSS
. I genuinely cannot remember what Brian sung
. Gotta Find His Dick (Joey, and eventually everyone)
. The entire “Oh you wanna know where I got my shirt?” bit
. Brian, Jaime and Joey got it from Primark, Meredith got it from “Primed-mrak”, Lauren’s was a family heirloom, Corey got it from Gucci and Jeff got it from America, from Pri-mart (He made the guy on the drums do a baddum tsh)
. COREY SINGING SHOW STOPPIN' NUMBER. OH MY GOD. (The entire crowd joined in, also, Jeff and Jaime as Steve and Stu)
. Everyone cheering so loud when Joey and Lauren came on stage, and them claiming we had no idea what they were going to sing, and it was actually a completely new song (it was Granger Danger obviously)
. And them continuing to claim it was new throughout the song
. As I expected, I almost cried during Not Alone. Also apparently Darren thought it was going to be a big hit??? And just begrudgingly let them use it for A Very Potter Musical
. Super Friends!
. So sad Jeff’s mic was so quiet for “I WANNA BE A MODERN DANCER”
. THEY SUNG WANNABE BY THE SPICE GIRLS
. The fakeout of everyone leaving stage, then the band coming back on and playing the start of Goin' Back To Hogwarts
. “Darren's not here”
“I'LL DO IT”
. THE AUDIENCE DID THE FIRST PART OF GOIN' BACK TO HOGWARTS ALL BY OURSELVES
. JEFF DID DYLAN'S PART (but he didn't do “All of you to [city name] :( )
. Jeff pointed at various parts of the audience for “Welcome hotties, nerds and tools!” and then whispered “I'm so sorry” immediately after
. Singing (/ shouting) Goin' Back To Hogwarts along with hundreds of other Starkid fans was so exhilarating, I loved it and I almost cried (also I'm gonna be so hoarse tomorrow)
#starkid#starkid innit#it's starkid innit?#team starkid#starkid productions#joey richter#lauren lopez#jaime lyn beatty#brian holden#clark baxtresser#corey dorris#meredith stepien#jeff blim
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The experience of having a niche special interest suddenly become popular, and then hated, is astounding
I remember after ChatGPT came out a guy I met on a dating app messaged me like "wow I remember you showing me that GPT stuff years ago... you were ahead of the game..." and then all of a sudden my silly, easily ignorable, little AI games, became Known, and became Judged, and became Evil
What do you mean everyone has an opinion on generative AI. Hello. I remember this room being empty
My profile picture is an oooold AI art generation, before people even began to fear it replacing us, and I like it for its awfulness. The text reads "togtaigbap todty". I told the AI to write "algebraic topology". I miss when silly little dumb AI pictures were just silly little dumb AI pictures
I don't even really blame the AI-haters. Like, I get it. I have a unique relationship with AI from loving her years before she could start taking jobs, so it's easy for me to see her good side. It's a LOT harder when you first met AI via deepfakes and voicetheft. I think a lot of AI use is currently pretty damn condemnable, but I just. No matter how bad it gets. I will always have to push back against those who say the problem is with the technology herself. She's my wife, I LOVE her
Although I will say that the whole ordeal forced me to go through a great deal of personal growth. I finally feel like I can actually BE a person who is comfortable with disagreement. Many of my friends hate, fear, or at least dislike AI. I'm sure some of them find my love for it tacky, gauche, and maybe a bit "techbro". But they still love me. And I still love them. Peace and love on Planet earth? Maybe. It is still difficult sometimes.
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i'm still following first soldier's plot just from these posts but how is young sephiroth portrayed? is he evil or like he was in crisis core or what
Young Sephiroth is depicted as being confused, insecure, and kind of brainwashed from years of conditioning under Shinra. First Soldier provided some interesting aspects and moments for his character, which I'll bullet for you here real quick.
Sephiroth has never been on a real mission before this one. Most of his "accomplishments" so far have been fabricated lies under Shinra for propaganda purposes. Despite him simultaneously being freakishly strong and overpowered thanks to the Jenova cells.
Sephiroth is also apparently incredibly sheltered as he comes across as very socially awkward and kind of shy when he isn't sticking to Shinra's script. It's implied he's barely ever interacted with actual people outside of a controlled setting.
Sephiroth carries a locket of his mother Lucrecia (who he refers to as Jenova) and at this point still believes her to be alive and is looking for her. He apparently asks everyone he meets to see if they know anything about her. He loses this locket offscreen btw and it's bullshit.
Sephiroth is a brainwashed child soldier and often spouts fucked up logic/Shinra propaganda in order to justify his more violent actions. He conveys an extremely paranoid world view that if he doesn't fight, he'll be killed or hurt. This obv speaks to the conditions Shinra put him under during training.
That said, Sephiroth actively dislikes his status as a "hero" and just wants to find his mom and live a normal life. He breaks down crying after killing a bunch of child soldiers his own age and says that he never wanted to be what he is.
Sephiroth occasionally has moments where he acts like an actual little kid, giggling over Glenn's jokes, wanting the group's approval, and often coming off as being kind of timid and overly respectful. He has two modes--hardass leader sticking to a schedule and a literal child trying to push himself too hard because that's all he was ever taught.
Most of the time he's pretty supportive and courteous, if not overly polite. He clearly really wants to impress his team and often apologizes whenever he makes a mistake. He's leader, but he's figuring things out.
Lastly, and strangely most importantly, the stupid Halloween Event of all things confirmed that Hojo has been abusing/torturing Sephiroth for most of his life and is likely the reason why Sephiroth pushes himself so hard.
Currently, Sephiroth's story is still unfinished. The game makes it clear that he's grown very attached to his new team and feels responsible for protecting them from danger. He and main character Glenn have formed a brotherly bond of sorts and Sephiroth willingly goes against Shinra's orders in order to follow his team to rescue another boy his age from danger (Rosen). Rosen and Sephiroth are expected to have an encounter next chapter and it's very strongly implied that Sephiroth will end up killing Rosen as a means of trying to protect his group/some other reason. It's gonna be fucked up and emotional either way.
#asks#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy 7#sephcanons#sephiroth#first soldier#ever crisis#glenn lodbrok#ffvii ever crisis#ffvii first soldier#young sephiroth
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[6]
Well! Something sure is happening! Further magic is unfolding!
Also please stop attacking the dads I’m sure they’re on -57 HP at this point we can’t keep doing this.
He says this but Yuuko said the Dream still remained a Dream, and I believe Yuuko over him literally every single time.
Yuuko also mentioned that it has to end by the people who started it, naming Evil Wolverine and Clow. But if Clow isn’t here I suppose the equivalent of the two Reeds would be Sakura and Yuuko? Who are the products of both attempts at Resurrection?
So maybe together they can "End it" and break his plan? That would be nice!
YEAH THERE WE GO! That's exactly what I meant!
Even now, Yuuko still insists that it still can’t actually happen, AND SHE WOULD KNOW. SHE IS DIRECTLY INVOLVED IN THIS EXACT RULE AND JUST HOW STRONG IT IS.
I see a glimpse of what looks like Yuuko's store room there so I'm just going to turn the page now.
OH JAM JAR??!?!
IS IT JAM JAR TIME AGAIN?
...OH THAT WAS THE LAST PAGE OF THE CHAPTER.
RETURN TO JAM JAR?????
JAM JAR TIME???????????
WHAT A PLACE TO LEAVE IT.
#OH WILL THIS BE WHERE WE SEE IT?#THE OPENING SHOT OF THE MANGA?#WITH SAKURA AND SYAORAN IN THE JAM JAR?#IS IT TIME????#Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle#Tsubasa#Vol 215#Yuuko Ichihara#Evil WOlverine#Clow Reed#Lava Lamp Guy#Kurogane#Fai#Mokona#Sakura#Which Sakura?#A Sakura!#Not Sakura#Sakura Sakura?#JAM JAR OF DREAMS#HERE WE GOOOOOO - EVENTUALLY!
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