#these are my old ones but i changed them SO MUCH
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Normalcy
"I'm so sorry! This…this never happens!!”
She drew her lips in a line and nodded, like she’d heard it a thousand times before, then went back to smacking her gum as she balled up the soggy diaper with practiced precision.
“No! I’m serious! I’m a grown man!! It’s not like I walk around pissing myself all the time!”
She scoffed, then shrugged. “Well you weren’t doing much walking—first of all—more like waddling. But you mean to tell me you never wet yourself? You’ve never wet a diaper before?”
“No…i…”
She inclined her head to the corner of the room, where a big sack of loaded diapers sat in a blue see-through bag.
“Okay…fine, I do. But only after a very long time period!! You don’t understand! My wife will leave me in them for the whole day!”
“I’ve only been here for an hour…”
“Yes but…” i wanted to tell her that was because my wife had made me drink three entire baby bottles of nasty fluids before she left. I tried to hold it. I really did. I didn’t want her little ‘babysitter’ to see me in a soggy diaper. In hindsight, i should have just let it all out with my wife and begged her to change me before she went off with that other dude. “It’s not a regular thing!”
“She told me you wet the bed.” The girl said, hardly even blinking as she taped my plump padding into a ball.
It was hard to explain that one away. Sure, there were several drunken nights where I’d blacked out and woken up with wet sheets in our marital bed. My wife was none too happy, but somehow those incidents kept happening even when I was sober, until she finally grew sick of it.
“So how long have you been in diapers?” The girl asked, setting my old one to the side and grabbing a fresh pamper. She asked it so casually, like it was a common point of conversation.
“3 months…” I said, unable to deny it anymore. “For the last two weeks it’s been 24/7. She…threw out all my underwear.”
The girl nodded as if nothing were out of the ordinary, tapping my thighs, apparently signaling for me to lift. I did so without incident, allowing her to slide the new diaper underneath.
“Do you make poo poo’s in them too?”
“No!” I said instinctively, but again she looked at me like a rugrat attempting an obvious lie.
“So if I go put your head in that bag, you won’t suffocate under a cloud of your own shit?”
Her words were cold, I had a feeling she’d do it too.
“Okay…fine. I do…”
“Do what?”
“P-poop…”
“Poop where?” She grinned, still smacking her gum, “I want you to tell me.”
I scrunched up my nose, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I poop in the diapers.”
But she wasn’t satisfied, “now tell me wike a baybee!”
She couldn’t be serious, but when her face turned stern with impatience, it told me that she probably wasn’t someone I should cross.
“Uh…i…” I felt my voice growing smaller, higher, “I make poo poo’s in my pampies!!”
She smiled wide at that. “How do you poop?”
“I…what?” I asked, voice returning to normal.
“How do you do it? Do you crouch? Get down on hour haunches and make a pushy? Or have you learned to go in any position already? All the men I babysit have a different method. It’s adorable. One of them even has to sit on the potty in order to go!“
“I just…do it…I guess. I dunno?” Usually squatting, it came out surprisingly easy that way, but I didn’t want to tell her that, and she didn’t press further, just seemed intent on making me blush.
“Well…I don’t feel like changing a poopy diaper today. So you’re going to get the plug, okay?”
P-plug?
She reached into her diaper bag that she brought herself, and pulled out a rather large silicon buttplug.
“Oh…i dunno…” I said, squirming on top of the diaper splayed out beneath me. “My wife and I don’t really do butt stuff…”
But she just smiled and squirted some lube on it, painting the glob over it with her fingers. “It’s cute that you think you have a say in the matter.” She giggled, “legs up!”
Before I knew it, my ankles were in the air. It was like she had some sort of power over me that I couldn’t resist.
I winced as she pressed the plug to my hole, gently working it in and out, in and out. I had to bite my lip to keep the squeals (and moans?) in. It felt…surprisingly good.
By the time she’d worked it all the way in, there was a little puddle leaking out of my chastity cage. It had spread onto my belly button while my legs were in the air.
“Sorry…” I said as she grabbed a baby wipe to clean up the sticky mess I’d made.
"Don't worry about it.” She smiled, amused. “It's...normal..."
“Is it?” I asked, feeling a sense of relief.
“Sure.” She shrugged, but it came off sarcastic. “Well…not normal to be a grown man in diapers. To poop said diapers. Not normal to have your wife go off and hire a babysitter to change your diapers. And definitely not normal to have another man fuck your wife. But leaking a little cum through your chastity cage while getting a plug shoved up your ass?” She tossed the sticky wipe down into my open diaper, lifting the front so she could tape it on, “yea, I guess that’s pretty ‘normal’…”
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could you write a scenario about gojo fucking his sweet little virgin and innocent sister. When he looked so long her cunt, she blushed and said;
Nii-chan, p-please don't look at it
I love your writings <3
(CW: incest, innocent and virgin reader, my bad writing and not beta'd, satoruniichan being manipulative cuz yeah that's him. name-calling. oral (f receiving). corruption. degradation if you squint i guess? finger-sucking. cliff hanger cuz i'm evil)
THANK YOU PRETTY BABY YOU'RE THE BESTTT!!! i'm kissing you on the mouth mmmmmmwah c'mere. i suck at writing full pieces, haven't done it in literal AGES, but i did my best for you!! so sorry if it sucks!! my brain hurts i am not used to thinking for long periods of time. /j
satoru's eyes were impossible to escape from. he'd always make you feel naked under his gaze, like two stars sucking the light out of the night sky.
but now they gazed down at you with such hunger it was almost threatening.
“hmmm,” he hummed with a grin, long fingers tracing aimless patterns all over your wet cunny; “don' close y'r legs, pretty. don' ya wanna make your big bro happy?”
and that only made you whimper more. what was so entertaining about this? you struggled not to close your thighs around his pretty head of white hair. “niichan! don't look!”
your parents could be home any minute! what would they say if they saw you like that? knees to your chest on the living room couch, satoru inspecting you down there like he was eyeing a ring at a jewelry store!
he played with your puffy lips, rubbing them up an down. he pulled down the hood around your clit, he stretched your entrance to the sides with both thumbs; only to laugh at the sticky trails of pussy juice drooling down from it.
“why not?” satoru had to laugh at you. some nerve you had to complain, really, when your little pussy was drenched and pulsing, so far untouched. he spat on you, spreading it around your pink flesh with a thumb, and smirked when it got you all squirmy.
“c'mon, be good 'n stay still”. a firm, steadying hand pressed down on your tummy. “y're more than old 'nough to still be a virgin, y'know? i'd be embarrassed if i were you”.
was that true? was not having sex at your age that bad?
satoruniichan always had so many friends, did so much better in school than you, was always dating one girl or another... he'd know about that sort of thing, right?
after all, you were always picked on for being the prune little sister. your parents never approved of any boy you had a crush on, and being a good daughter you never went against their wishes.
satoru caught on your dilemma quick. he leaned in close, blowing his hot, tickly breath teasingly over your clit. “wan' big bro to change that?”
“change w-what? hm!” you moaned. this time you couldn't stop your thighs from closing when satoru's lips sucked on your clitty, slurping loudly until you cried out.
“pop y'r cherry, dummy,” your big bro chuckled. “that way, y' won' be so pathetic anymore”.
the name stung, “pathetic”. tho you could barely think about that with satoru loudly licking, slurping, kissing, burying his face into your pussy. nose into your clit, and purring. arms hugging your hips so you can't escape his hungry stimulation.
you couldn't even think, only moan and shiver. were big brothers even supposed to do this sort of thing to their little sisters? but then again, it felt so good!
satoru pulled back with your clitty slurped between your lips, giddy for the cute cries you let out. “'nd?” he said, voice much deeper and husky than before.
“c'monnn, say yes!” his cheeks puffed up and satoru pouted, like a spoiled child begging for candy. only that this “child” was rubbing your clit in tight frenzied circles with his thumb, not slowing down even as you trashed and squirmed and whimpered. satoru dove tongue first into your soppy hole, muffling his words in your sloshy muscles: “d'y' wanth t' be p'thethic 'll y'r lwife 'r noth?”
“n-niichan!” is all you could say, or cry. your muscles were stiffing up, specially down your belly. satoru seemed impatient, because his tongue swiftly exchanged placed with two long, too long fingers that crooked inside your virgin pussy. he felt around, until finding your gummy, sensitive little walls.
he thrusted and thrusted from his wrist at a sadistic pace, laughing at you and at your slutty teary face. you were going to be such a whore, he just knew. “wanna cum, huh? my pretty sluts wan's to cum?”
“y-yeees!”
your clit felt on fire under his slimy tongue. your walls were spasming, pussy crying as much as your eyes and it was like your body was made of jelly. you shivered and cried, and when your back arched, hips bucking against his hand, your eyes saw heaven and stars twinkled behind your eyelids and
satoru stopped.
“noooo! no! why'd you sto- mmph!” his slick fingers stopped your whining by thrusting down your throat. you almost gagged, throat and pussy convulsing in synch.
the albino sat back on his heels without pulling back from your mouth; one hand fumbling with his sweatpants until it came out springing. angry red, leaky, pulsing, and he rubbed the tip of his dick a couple times against your slit with a deep grunt.
“didn't give ya permission t' cum, did i? now open up f'my cock, slut”
#tw.incest#tw incest#dd:dne#big bro/little sis#big bro gojo#tw.dark content#dead dove do not eat#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo smut#satoru smut#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#tw dark content#this was one of those stories that literally wrote itself#i just put my pussy on the keyboard and this came out sorry
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Sorry to ask this. I was going through a blog when I saw a callout post. I checked it out of curiosity. One of the things that was pointed out was : "when they were 31, they had sex with a 18 year old -they are a teenager!- and it's predatory! I (the writer of the callout) am 21 years old and even I don't have sex with 18 year olds because they are very young and it's very predatory!"
So, idk how to feel about that? Especially as someone who has never been in a relationship. I'm 20 years old, soon I'll be 21. Looking at myself at 18 and the future 21, I really didn't change that much? Physically or mentally. Yeah 18 is young but so is 21?? I don't think it's predatory, am I wrong?/serious question
And for the first part, yeah a 31 year old being with a 18 is weird for me, but aren't they both adults? They also said it's because 18 year olds lack experience, which can be true but that's assuming they have never been in a relationship before(with people their own age or similar). So, it can be weird but predatory? Is it?/serious question
I'm sorry if the questions are upsetting &/or weird but I really don't have anyone else to ask- parents are out of question, they literally think you should teach people about sex right before marriage- and I don't trust most online spaces. There's also zero books about such things in my country because "protect the children!!". So now we have an adult(me) who was raised to never ask question about these things and now is confused as hell. Hmm.....
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It's all hogwash.
On average, I would assume that a 31-year-old having sex with an 18-year-old is a bit of a creep. However, it would depend entirely on the circumstances. Is this 18-year-old a naive high school student? Or are they someone who's been working a job for several years? Maybe the older person is their coworker whom they got to know.
A 21-year-old and an 18-year-old can be weird in the US if they only just met and one is a high school student while the other is a university student. But what if they met in some very different context where they're more in the same stage of life? Sure, I side-eye upperclassmen who start dating freshmen the first week of their freshman year, but what about later on in the year? What if both of these people aren't students at all and are, again, working a job together?
"You're mature for your age" is a line that creepers feed to younger people, but it can also be true. Some people just get along better with older partners.
We shouldn't be too draconian about any specific rule. You can only judge by the real circumstances of a specific set of people.
Predators are defined by their behavior, not ticky-box demographics. There is no absolute that lets you detect them and protect yourself. People wish there were because they would feel safer. That's what this kind of post is about.
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strong enough | J. Jungkook (3)
<series masterlist
pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader
genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut
warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds
w.c: aproxx 11.2
series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.
a/n at very bottom!
To my love, my forever. You will soon find out the reason why I am the way am I. Give me some time, my love, I will express everything and more to you. Soon, you’ll have everything once I am able to love and care for myself the way I want to do to you. You deserve everything and more than what I could ever give you, and I will be there for you always. I may never give you this, I may never allow you to read this. But just know, you mean so much to me. Even if I’m a pain in the ass, or if I piss you off, you will always be the person who helped me want to change for the better. I know it may seem like i’m leaving you behind, but pushing you away is the best way for me and you to be able to find ourselves. Once we are settled and ready, I will never let you go, ever again. Mark my words, use them against me, but I know that once you let me in, I’ll never leave your side ever again. You’re my one and only, forever. You are my future, my light, the person who drags me to be right. You mean so much to me and more. But for now, let me go to become the one that deserves your love and wellbeing. Take care of yourself, Jungkook, you will do many good things in life, with or without me.
“i think you should give it to him,” one of your members slur out, making your already wobbly head tilt up to her as she hiccups for the 5th time that same hour, you sighed and your head pounded as your squinted tightly to look at her, “seriously! i think he would want closure that way,”
Jungkook definitely did. he knew that when you wrote letters, you meant every little thing. he knew something happened between you and your ex, his name is like a slap in the face to you, and he could always notice.
his hands started to shake as he continued to read your note, he didn’t know how you came all the way to his house just to ring the door bell and drop it off. he was even shocked to notice his name in your handwriting on the top of the note. he wasn’t mad about it, he was just so, so sad. his eyes burned as another drop fell onto his lap. Jungkook knew it was for the best, but why does it hurt so bad and why does he feel like he’ll never get better while you do?
Jungkook didn’t want to think that way, but he did. he always did, he hurts to see you go but hurts even more to see you shine without him. he kept all your little notes in a box, he was really considering giving it back to you since it was at some of your most vulnerable times. he wouldn’t want to keep these just in case he snoops through them, like he’s doing right now as he was putting the other note in there along with the tons of others.
one of them wrote a song that you made about him, him never leaving you and the way you love him. it breaks his heart more, knowing that you’re no longer around, and that he just keeps fucking up.
when you wake up the next morning, your hungover member told you about a box she found outside the door step with your name on it, your ears ring as you stand in front of the box sitting on your bed, biting the inside of your cheek because this was Jungkook’s box. it had a polaroid of the two of you with shots in your hands on his balcony last summer. it was his favorite picture of you both and wanted to keep it with all the letters you even written him.
you pace around your room for like and hour, biting your lip and running your hand through your hair to calm yourself down. it finally felt like you guys were officially over, no matter how many times you’ve broken up. when you opened it finally, there was a new one, one you definitely didn’t write. you don’t even remember going to his house and giving him the one you were gonna keep for your sake.
it was Jungkook’s hand writing, you knew it from the back of your palm, literally as you have a tattoo that he gave you himself. it read,
forever
and looking at it makes you sick. you felt like crap anytime you thought of him, what you had put him through, all the stuff he doesn’t know about you. you knew him so well, but did he actually even know you, truly? it made you want to cry, the tears lining your waterline and you fight the urge.
you give yourself time before opening up his letter, preparing yourself for the worst or to cry. when you start reading it, you felt like he was there with you. it felt as if he was pacing around your room, looking you dead in the eyes and telling you everything you’ve been wanting to hear, but at the wrong time.
I miss you a lot, I know I say that a lot, but it’s true. I’m glad you wrote me this, I’m glad you’re trying to find ways to open up to me, I’m glad you love me. You are my everything, I want what’s best for you, and if it’s not me then so be it. You deserve the whole fucking world, and I hope you know I tried so hard to give it to you. Maybe, in the long run, we can be happy together. Maybe we can be able to know each other truly, I always wanted to. I believe in right person, wrong time, because you’ll forever be my person, even if i’m not in the picture. I love you, ______, I always will.
you wanted to sob, you didn’t even know what to do. you had dropped the note off not expecting anything back, but getting everything back? even a letter from him, confessing how much he loves and cares for you. you didn’t know how to feel, if it was closure or not. to you, yours was supposed to be. his, his was a love letter, you’ll never let go of it.
you had one more promotion for you group, and you had to prepare in so many ways. you had to practice tons, and practing handling your emotions until you’re a zombie to what you truly feel, you couldn’t handle being around Jungkook for long. it’s crazy, how much you used to look at him thinking you’d never do anything to hurt him, yet you’re over here making him suffer because you are in your head. it tears at the deepest parts of you, and it makes you feel so much at once.
so when it came to the event, you felt your knees lock when you saw him sitting with his team. he looked breathtaking, and it sucks that you can’t look at him for long before you cry because he looks too good. Jungkook always looked good, but whenever you wanted to ignore him, it’s like he knows and wants to look that fine. you gulp hard because walking to over your assigned seats, a couple seats back behind them but at an angle to a way that you can see every part of Jungkook, his hands and thighs especially.
ones that put you through hell, sent you to another universe is what he would of said and has said before, smoking off your balcony as you sat on his lap with your legs shaking trying to not fall off. he laughed as he smacked your thighs, watching them shake more as you practically whine in soreness.
he took another puff off his cig before putting it down on his designated ash tray, but even knowing you didn’t smoke, he kissed you hard, forcing the hot smoke into your mouth and through your pipes, allowing him to do anything to you because you were obsessed with everything he did.
“fucked you out, huh, princess?” he said against your ear as he gave you a second to breathe, making you almost choke as his hand started to move down and between your thighs, giving them a squeeze before going deep between them to touch you where you shook the most.
let’s just say, the memory had your legs close tightly together. the thought of how much have gave you that night, it made you miss him even more for just taking care of you like he said he would. you could feel it starting to stick against your skin, immediately wanting to go to the bathroom.
you thought you were stable enough to walk down the stairs in front of all the idols and fans including, instead you almost dropped face first into the steps instead someone’s hand wrapped around your waist and around the inside of your thigh, gripping it hard as they held you from falling to your death infront of thousands of people.
“your shoes too big for you, baby?”
you really thought you were going crazy, that his presence was just teasing you. but as your eyes dragged themselves down to the hand around the inside of your thigh, you weren’t going crazy. the tattoos proving who the man really was and how his thumb was very close to your throbbing clit. you shivered before quicking bowing at him once you leave his grip and speed walking towards the exit.
the moment you got alone in a hallway, you looked around before pulling out your phone to text your leader where you were going to be, the bathroom, before you hear a door open behind you. you go to put your phone away, but a tight grip around your waist turns you towards the person, your phone falling on to the floor and your mouth to open up, perfect for the attacker to kiss you hard.
another hand grabs your hair and you immediately knew who it was based on the way he was holding you. he knew, and knew it was because of him. that’s all your thought about when his lips were softly against yours, until you felt his hands creeping up. he just knew how to distract you from the facts and knows how to get you to enjoy his attack.
“can we talk soon, princess?” he whispers lowly in your ear once he pulls away from your now desperate lips trying to reach his. you whimper at the nickname, one that just rolls off his tongue in such a degrading way, he grabs your chin softly, turning your face to face him. his eyes invited yours, and the longer you looked into them, the more you felt entranced by him.
“talk about what?” you sighed into his hold, which he notices and gives you your favorite smile in the whole world. it hard to ignore his hands gripping your waist, your hands clinging onto his dress shirt as he holds you, you didn’t expect to be in this position.
“we will talk later tonight, i’ll pick you up?”
“how, with what car-”
“i’ll figure it out, anything for you,” he presses his forehead against yours, making your eyes squeeze shut as he lets out a little chuckle because of your reaction to his proximity being so close to you, you could almost feel his breath against your lips. “you know i’ll do whatever i need to do to see you, i will figure out a way to see you later tonight, bunny, i promise,” he kisses your nose softly before letting you go without your even realizing he picked up your phone for you, a smile across his face as you nodded your head for him.
Jungkook didn’t give you a time, or a place to when he was going to pick you up. before you left the event, you had asked him what he was planning on doing with you and he just told you that you’ll have to wait and find out. Jungkook knew how to make you worry about what could happen. what should you even wear? is he taking me somewhere to eat? it’s kinda late for that-
doink
something just hit your window as you were pulling your pants up, you almost tripped in shock but managed to pull them up and fix yourself before going to your window. there he was, the man of your dreams, the love of your life, standing down there searching for more rocks to toss at your window.
you cracked your dorm room window open, not even wanting to question how he managed to get over the brick wall to get into the dorms, and he smiles when he sees your head peaking from the bottom of the window. he pats his hands on his thighs while you watch him with curiosity.
“get down here bunny, we have a lot to do tonight,” he stood up straight, hands put in his pockets as he stared off at you. you would of jumped right there into his arms after that nickname, you almost whined before nodding your head like an idiot and shutting your window.
you managed to sneak out, grabbed your shoes at the front and headed out from the back blind spot and running to where Jungkook stood, his hands tucked in his pockets to stay warm. his left arm raised so you could wrap your arm around it, a habit of the both of you. you just ignored the bad feelings and wrapped your arm around his, feeling his arm tighten around yours as you both started to walk to the car.
“you gonna tell me where we’re going, Jeon?” you tilt your head, your left knee against his center console as your left side rested on his passenger seat. his hand slid up to your knee, leaving you in shock as he gripped it in warning.
“stop asking questions, baby,” he tapped his finger on your knee, not even bothering to look your way. you huffed as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore his thumb moving against your thigh now, his hand resting against it too.
“Jungkook, you know we can be doing this again. i know you remember what happened last time,” you warned, your head felt like it was spinning, none of this felt real. Jungkook bit his lip ring in thought, he just wanted to talk to you and apologize. he always wants to talk to you even if he’s been rude.
“______, what do you think i’m going to do to you tonight?” he spoke deeply, it sent waves through your spine, and down to your poor kitty. it’s crazy, what this big eyed man can do to you with only his hand on your thigh while he speaks to you like your his.
“i- i don’t know, what are you asking me? i’m just confused why you’re doing this-”
“what do you want me to do to you tonight, baby? is there something else bothering you that only i can fix?” his hand rubs your inner thigh, occasionally softly squeezing the skin closest to where you needed help the most. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do to you, you just have to speak up, darling. is that okay? can you do that for me, princess?”
you almost moaned, gasping at his eagerness to help you with whatever you want, and you knew he meant that. “Jungkook, we can’t be doing thing again, as much as we want to-”
“fuck that and fuck no contact, we were doing good as fuck the last time we were friends. can we not be friends, baby?”
“that’s why! you keep calling me my favorites, you can’t do that to me..” you whined, you wanted to hide away as he giggled at how you whined. when the car slowly starts to come to a stop, you got reminded that the whole time you were talking to him, getting teased by him, he was driving. “Jungkook… where are we?”
“let me help you out and show you,” he smiled, and you just knew that you had to trust him, why? because he’s Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t you trust the love of your life?
when he open your door, hand already reaching for his as he helped you out of the car, the smell of salt hit your face in a whiff, making you smile at the moment you had at this beach with Jungkook. but why here? why did he want to talk here?
you didn’t trust your voice, watching his open his back door to grab a blanket and cigs, which you thought he quit, with a lighter and a flashlight. you didn’t say a word as you hugged onto his arm as he walked to a specific place, your guys place. the place where he gave you head for the very first time, you found sand up there for at least a day after that.
“do you trust me, sugar?” Jungkook asked you, tugging you to sit next to him on the blanket over the cold sand at the dark lonely beach. it’s like he knew what you were worried about, could you trust him again? it’s not like he broke your trust, it’s about you trusting yourself around him. if anything besides talking happens tonight, and you guys become exactly what you were afraid of becoming, you won’t know what to do with yourself.
it’s a bit selfish you thought, as his hand rested against your shoulder as you snuggled against his neck, breathing in only Jungkook and a little bit of salt. you loved this, but it couldn’t get any farther than this. just small, and slight, touches and sometimes kisses, only at certain times. the sound of the waves crashing tingled your ears, debating if you should listen to his heartbeat or not.
“do you know why i want you out here with me tonight, baby?” his voice vibrated your cheek as he spoke, his fingers gliding against the thin fabric of your long sleeved shirt. you hummed, you felt him swallow before you moved your head to face him.
“i wouldn’t have asked you that a million times in the car, Jungkook,” he smiles when your eyes finally reach his. he used to ask you, what did you see when you looked into his eyes? you usually just laughed it off or ignored the question, but now you think you know the questions answer. Home. in other words, Jungkook was your confort, the one you would go to, the one who makes you feel the safest, the one who keeps you feeling warm. Jungkook was your favorite.
Jungkook leans in, you can almost feel his breath against the wind, you almost forget where you are when you look deeply into his eyes. he leans so close to you that you could almost kiss him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer- and closer to him, until your hovering above him.
you looked down at him, his hand sliding down your waist and on to your thigh to swing your leg over his body. he’s got you now, almost spread wide for him as his eyes glazed your entire body, making your shiver.
“let’s that about why you were so wet when i caught you from eating shit in front of everyone today, huh? or maybe… why you’re so wet right now, was it from the car ride? you just couldn’t wait, hm? baby?” he smacked your thigh, and you almost whimper at his words, “sit down on me, love. you know you want to. i’ll do anything you want me to, just let me in this one or more times and you won’t regret it this time,”
oh boy, you were in for a ride. baby, princess, sugar, darling, bunny, love. hearing that one burned, deeply in two places. your poor heart as you feel his hands grip your sides, and your poor throbbing cunt that it about to get slammed onto his hard on resting below you. either or, you know you’re safe and whatever happens can be dealt with. why? because you’re with Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t it be fine?
a/n: holy shit, this took forever and i sincerely apologize!! i love how this episode turned out and i will give you guys a slight warning! spicy scenes are coming up and I’m not backing down from this. it will be the dirtiest, most greatest- yeah! anyways, thank you for your patience, i love you all🥹
taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @kaiparkerwifes @alextgef @nerdycheol @nightappple @nlr1606 @chl0buggy
if your tag isn’t gray, please fix your settings so i can tag you next time love!
#hyukaslvr#writers on tumblr#kpop fyp#kpop writers#bts#bts fanfic#jungkook bts#bts x reader#bts smut#bts army#bts fic#bts x y/n#bts x you#bts x fem!reader#bts x army#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook imagine#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#i love jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jeon jungkoooook#kpop smut#kpop x reader
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My Theory on Pachacamac and The Iblis Trigger
There is talk about how much they changed Pachacamac from a warmongering, power hungry tribal leader, to a goofy grandpa figure, but I think the truth of Pachacamac's nature might be somewhere between the two interpretations.
Despite his friendliness, you can't forget he did lead a clan that wiped out the owls with a singleminded focus on capturing Sonic and reclaiming The Master Emerald.
Pachacamac, now a ghost, has visited Knuckles to tell him he needs to expand his tribe. There are no other echidnas left, so he asks the sole survivor to take on an apprentice.
"Show him our customs, teach him our traditions, and soon our tribe will grow once again."
There is no acceptance or acknowledgement of the fact that the clan's current situation is the result of a bloody feud and the destruction of an entire race besides their own.
There is also, unsettlingly, no acknowledgement of Tails, Sonic, or The Wachowskis as members of Knuckles' clan.
While there are questionable elements to Pachacamac's approach, his motivations are at least understandable.
Knuckles is a minority– the last of his tribe and the only surviving member of his species, so of course his old chief wants to see their traditions and culture preserved.
Things only get really weird when Pachacamac takes hold of Wade– Knuckles' apprentice and the soon-to-be new addition to their clan–and rewrites history.
Rather than the tale of a lone owl that the echidnas hunted down in a quest for power, the story is instead of an entire flock of owls that were the aggressors, killing off Knuckles' tribe and burning down his village for no reason other than for the sake of the slaughter.
Similarly, Knuckles isn't described as a lost child left behind, but a fellow warrior who battled alongside his father until the bitter end.
So, knowing that Pachacamac's version of events is wrought with lies leads to one very serious question:
What is the true story of Knuckles' battle with Iblis?
If there's one thing we know about The Echidna Clan, it's that they are fixated on raw power. They're a warrior-focused society where the best fighter gets the highest honor and the most privileges.
They were the ones who crafted The Master Emerald from the seven chaos emeralds. They were the ones who tracked down Sonic when he was a child with the intention of obtaining his power, before Long Claw wiped them out in her final struggle.
And who else do we know that was accidentally unleashed in a reckless pursuit of power?
Iblis, the raw power of the sun god Solaris.
Iblis, who was sealed away within a child using the power of the chaos emeralds.
Now, there's no doubt that "The Flames of Disaster" in the SCU are very different from "The Flames of Disaster" in Sonic 06. In the movie universe the flames are merely a type of wieldable power rather than the name of an apocalyptic event.
However... what better way to rewrite the fact that the echidna tribe nearly caused the end of the world and locked an immortal fire demon within an echidna child, than by pretending that The Flames of Disaster is just an inherent ability Knuckles unlocked through an epic battle?
What if "The Flames of Disaster" wasn't a power he obtained through a magnificent fight, but a power he survived after it was thrusted upon him by his elders?
... What if one of the many, many reasons reasons his father didn't let him join the fight was out of fear of what would happen if he cried?
#This theory nuts but that's not going to keep me from seeing it as canon until proven otherwise#Anyways I don't trust that Pachacamac ghost not one bit#Knuckles the echidna#sonic the hedgehog#sonic wachowski#knuckls wachowski#sonic headcanons#knuckles series spoilers#long post
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⋆ 𝓡𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼: 𝓓𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓑𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓼 ⋆
Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!
This was the first story I ever posted on my old blog, and my first series too! It was a series that featured most of the Twisted Wonderland cast as fathers, and what their child/children are like! (With the Reader being referred to as mom!)
I had only completed Riddle and Cater's parts (while posting sneak peaks of others), and I may come back to it someday! Until then, enjoy! ♡
⋆ As a father I believe that Riddle would be strict but fair. He would be patient with his children and control his temper but wouldn’t be afraid to put his foot down. He’d be the type of parent to implement chore wheels and good behavior charts and use parental controls on electronics to make sure his kids keep up with their studies. If they were doing particularly bad in a certain subject or struggled with something, Riddle would be more than happy to tutor them. He would make worksheets to help them practice and would take extra care helping them with homework or assignments, and make sure to go over exactly what they’re struggling with until they understood. If his child’s school had a PTA (Parent Teacher Association) he would be a part of it for sure.
⋆ Riddle’s eldest son would be a little troublemaker, not really following any of the rules Riddle makes. Instead, he would question Riddle’s rules and create his own, making a game out of it. Riddle once tried to follow his son’s rules (in the hopes that it would teach him some obedience), but his son just gave him a look of confusion before stating that the rules had changed, and that Riddle was now breaking the rules by following the old ones. Let’s just say this game is Riddle’s least favorite lol
⋆ While he’s good for his mom, he enjoys riling his father up and always acts innocent afterwards in the hopes of getting away with it (You never really seem to buy it though)
⋆ He has a big sweet tooth (just like his father), constantly trying to sneak cookies or tarts or cakes out of the kitchen. Half the time he doesn’t even try to sneak it, just grabs whatever he’s after and makes a run for it. You’ll be doing some cleaning, trying to tidy up the house, when suddenly here comes your toddler running with fistfuls of cookies while your husband chases after him. Even when you lock the desserts up he still somehow manages to get them, much to Riddle’s dismay.
⋆ In place of gold stars you decided to get scented stickers shaped like desserts for the good behavior chart, as that seemed to encourage your eldest son to behave more
⋆ Whenever he has a nightmare, he always goes to his dad. You’ve walked into the kitchen more than once in the early morning and found Riddle and your son fast asleep at the table, half empty mugs of milk and cookie crumbs around them. It’s a sight that always fills you with warmth.
⋆ When he gets to be a little bit older (around 5 or 6) You and Riddle cave and get him the pet hedgehog he’d been wanting (Riddle hoping it teaches him some responsibility) He is very responsible when it comes to his pet and takes excellent care of him. He considers the hedgehog to be his best friend (and partner in crime), taking him wherever he goes. (The hedgehog’s name is Beef Hedgington, and he’s named after Beef Wellington)
⋆ The boys are around 5-6 years apart age wise, so your eldest son got his pet hedgehog Beef before his little brother was born.
⋆ There are plenty of times where you or Riddle would enter the baby’s room and find that your eldest left his pet in his brother’s crib. When you ask him, he’d simply say that Beef is there to watch over him and protect him if need be. It makes for some cute photos in the family album!
⋆ Riddle’s younger son is quite the contrast to his brother, a shy boy that tries his best to follow the rules and doesn’t want to stand out. He’s content watching quietly in the background as his older brother gets up to his latest shenanigans, though on occasion he can be convinced to join him.
⋆ He prefers to play alone or with his brother, usually keeping to himself while your eldest is running around with the other kids at the park. He gets a bit anxious in social situations, especially when he’s unfamiliar with the person. But if another kid did approach him and wanted to play with him he would hesitate for a second before nodding his head yes, gesturing towards the toys he was playing with. It always makes you and Riddle so happy whenever he makes a new friend at school, his body language giving away how excited he is.
⋆ Much like your husband and eldest son (and you), your younger son also has a big sweet tooth. Unlike your eldest though, he doesn’t try to sneak or take any desserts. Instead he would follow you around as you’re baking, or gaze longingly at whatever sweet he wanted. You would pick up on this and give him one as a treat, or let him lick the spoon while you’re baking (after making him promise not to tell his brother)
⋆ Riddle started a tradition where when it’s someone’s birthday in the family, you would all go to Trey’s bakery and get them their own special cake/dessert. The kid’s always get so excited whenever they get to go see their “Uncle Trey”, especially when it’s one of their birthdays. They always have fun choosing a different cake flavor or dessert every year, watching Trey make and decorate it before serving it to them. You have a special photo album specifically for these occasions, making sure to always include Trey and his family in the pictures.
⋆ One of your favorites in the album is a photo from Riddle’s birthday, his face and shirt a mess of frosting as your two boys had both wanted to feed their father his cake. Trey is in the background laughing while your off to the side trying to wipe some frosting off Riddle’s face, your two boys smiling towards the camera with frosting smudged around their mouths. It’s a photo you love so much you end up framing it and hanging it near the front door so that it’s the last thing Riddle sees when he leaves to go to work. A beautiful reminder of his wonderful and loving family ♡
Originally posted: November 25th, 2023
𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡
#♡.sheep writes#♡.twst#♡.riddle rosehearts#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle x reader
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Moon peppers (4)
(1) (2) (3)
Palestine: what can you do
were!Abby x witch!reader
Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.
Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.
Notes: how do I keep hating the witch after she saved my life asking for a friend
Taglist: @abbysbae @poxismind @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @pjmispunk @herdelreydear @lmaoo-spiderman @littletinyladybugs (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)
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Your morning is.. odd. You expected yourself to forget how to control so much magic, but instead it feels better than the last ten years you spent being weak. You really couldn't live like this: it made you feel vulnerable and helpless, and now that your power is back, you feel like yourself again.
In a way it terrifies you. Because you were a completely different person ten years ago, and now you don't want your old habits back. You don't like seeing your tattoos and runes, especially the ones on your forearms, but you try your best to make peace with it. Your tattoos have almost nothing to do with your power - they're just channels for your magic, a spellbook engraved in your skin. They were faint before yesterday, fading away as your powers grew weaker, but they were still there, and they will not disappear until you die. You have to accept it, and maybe, if you don't make stupid decisions this time, you'll change your heart about them.
You meditate before breakfast to manage your flow of magic exactly like Caitlyn showed you, even though you expect the wolf to wake up at any moment and trash your still room. But the wolf is asleep - you can feel it through the bond, which is annoying: you don't like having your space disturbed like this. You're sure the wolf won't like it too. You concentrate on the bond between you to see how well the healing is happening and it makes you groan - fat chance it will be finished by the evening, with this pace it will take a whole damn week. The thought of spending more than a day with the wolf makes you depressed.
Abby wakes up. This fact alone shakes her to her core: she is not dead. She is supposed to be dead, what the fuck? More than that, she feels almost okay - she is not supposed to feel mostly okay, she fucking died! She knows this, because no way in hell she hallucinated having her throat ripped out.
Then Abby opens her eyes, tries to move - and goes into survival mode. She is in a still room and she is restrained. All her paws are chained and she can't move. This is worse than death. Oh god, this is so much worse.
Abby tugs on her chains with all her power, but they down even bulge. Abby growls and coils and tries again, but she only hits the wall with her back. Abby starts to panic: she can't stay here - the fucking witch bound her! She is in debt to the witch! She needs to leave before you come and order her to do something horrible.
Abby tries again, but this time the door to the still room opens and Abby sees the creepy glowing eyes of yours. Abby starts to move around even more violently - she doesn't want you anywhere near her. You're one of the rare monsters of this world and she needs to either get away from you or to kill you, but she is not staying here. The moment she is free she will rip you to shreds.
At least you look scared when you enter the room and you keep the biggest distance possible from her. Abby growls and snarls, clasping her jaws around the air, eager to kill you.
“It's not what it looks like.” You blurt, your arm in the air as if you want to tell her you came in peace.
Abby growls louder.
“Listen, I'll free you if you calm the fuck down and turn into human form so we can talk.”
Abby is so angry she doesn't even consider the possibility of calming down or pretending to calm down.
“Or I can force you to turn into a human.” You say in a shaky voice, as if you're yourself scared of this possibility.
This actually makes Abby stop. She doesn't want you near her, so she needs to pick the least of two evils. Abby growls and starts to change, her fur disappears and her bones rearrange. The chains tighten around her human wrists and now she is sitting on your floor, glaring at you, her shirt ripped on her sides and her pants dirty.
“Thank you. I will explain everything and then I'll free you, okay?” Abby just growls at you again.
You swallow hard: the wolf is even scarier as a human. The woman is big and strong and her claws are out still, her arms are bulging with muscles, and the way she looks at you doesn't help you calm your nerves. Her shirt is red from blood and it only makes her look scarier. You clear your throat and start speaking.
“Yesterday I found you dead, and the woods wanted me to save you. So I did. Right now you're still in the process of healing and if you go too far away from me, the energy will stop coming and you will die. This is why I brought you here. I also knew you would want to kill me or you'd run away, so I chained you. Now, please make peace with the fact that you're stuck with me for a while and then I will release you. Good? Good.”
Abby growls, humbled. She doesn't want to make peace with it, but you do sound logical. And you're still scared of her, which is a good sign: maybe you won't have the guts to hurt her.
“Am I blood bound to you?” Abby growls and you look offended and angry, which confuses Abby. And also amuses.
“Fuck you.” You spit. “Not all witches are like this, you ungrateful beast. The only bound you have is the energy one that heals you. After that you're free to leave and please don't ever see me again. Jerk.”
You flick your fingers for the chains to disappear and stomp out of the still room. You knew this werewolf was an asshole, but holy fuck!
The wolf stomps after you.
“It would not have happened if you didn't take all the moon peppers!” The woman argues and follows you to the kitchen. You turn around and stare at this ungrateful, entitled shit of a wolf.
“First of all, as if a bunch of moon peppers would have saved you from getting your throat ripped out!” You snap back and get into her face, angry and stubborn. “Second of all, maybe if you didn't fucking attack me and talked to me instead I would have shared some of them!” You flip your arms around in frustration.
“Because witches are famous for being helpful and kind.” The wolf snarls at you and you can't believe the audacity of her.
But she is also right. She did have all the reasons to attack you and not trust you. You calm down a bit and take a step back.
“It's still idiotic to attack a witch. I might've not been so nice.”
“You were shitting your pants in fear.” The wolf deadpans.
“As if I wouldn’t find a way to get my revenge without a direct attack. You're exceptionally stupid.” You huff and the wolf growls. “You took my friend's den, covered it in blood and attacked me. Do you comprehend what I could have done if I wanted to? You know why witches use blood binding? Because it makes us stronger.” You hiss sadistically into the blonde's face.
For a second there's fear in the wolf's eyes, and some part of you feel satisfied. The other part, though, feels disgusted with you. You take a breath.
“I'm sorry. You just really pissed me off being so stubborn about your own safety.” You sigh and rub your face.
The silence falls and you go to the kitchen to cook some breakfast for yourself and for this stupid wolf: after all, you will be stuck together and if someone will be nasty and poison the shared time, it won't be you.
Abby blinks. She feels lost. She expected you to be some kind of creep or a sadist, even if you were afraid of her; and she knew you could've bound her - that's exactly what she thought happened. But she didn't expect you to actually be nice. Well, relatively nice: you chained her for her own good, then threatened her and now you just apologised to her, and Abby feels like a fool if she continues being mean to you. She really doesn't have any ground to mistreat you except some rumours and her awful, but limited experience. She only met one witch before.
Well. She can play nice too.
“I'm Abby.” Abby says grumpily, still not ready to believe you: you just threatened to bind her, for god's sake!
You hum and tell her your name as well while you cut vegetables with aggressive vigour. Abby assumes you're imagining cutting her into pieces.
It's awkward. It is really, really awkward. You're obviously still frustrated and Abby doesn't burn with desire to talk to you either. Plus she is in your home and she definitely doesn't know where to put herself. She settles for a stool near you. Abby stares at your back and your arms silently, and then she is hit with the realisation.
“You didn't have tattoos before.”
You smirk sadly.
“Yeah, well. Before that I didn't have to revive a whole werewolf.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Ask the forest. They made a deal with me.”
How calculating, Abby thinks. Also: how the fuck do you deal with a forest?
“So you still do deals.”
“It's different.” You say sharply. “I don't blood bind.”
“I get it.” Abby huffs and backs off: a witch who doesn't like blood binding, might be a goddamn oxymoron. “So for how long am I stuck with you?”
“Three days, probably. Maybe more, depending how fast you'll heal.”
“I heal fast.”
“Don't compare your usual healing with coming back from the dead. Who knows how much of your brain died. That's why you can't be far away from me. You go away, you break the bond, your brain dies. Got it?”
Abby hums. She has never heard of anyone being able to revive someone. She thinks you know some old forbidden magic if you can bring people back, and it just doesn't match with what she sees: a scaredy cat who lives in the woods and has to spend hours fishing to get three fish. Your home is cosy and warm, with a lot of natural light and Abby doesn't understand how you could have saved her life: you’re soft and weak and live in a house suited for some kind old lady, not a witch who could bring people from the dead. How much fucking power a witch would need to even do that?
“How far is too far?”
“If I stay here and you go beyond my shields, you're dead.”
Abby sighs, annoyed. She doesn't want to stay next to you for three days. She is somewhat grateful for being alive, but it's weird. It's very weird to be in one space with you.
You place two plates and sit opposite of Abby. Abby looks at her plate and wants to hesitate, to think, but she is so fucking hungry she starts eating right away.
It's not…bad. Edible. (God she will have to eat like this for three more days?)
You watch the wolf- Abby's face and can't help your smile. Unfortunately you're very familiar with the fact you can't cook - Cait and Vi tried it once and since then you don't host dinners anymore; sometimes Cait sends you back with food - but you didn't expect the wolf to be so sensitive to your food. You eat it just fine after all.
“It's bad.” You laugh.
“It is.” Abby agrees. “Did you do it on purpose?”
“What? No. My taste senses are just fucked up by a lot of potions.”
You see how Abby tenses and you sigh: it's strange to have your everyday life being seen as some kind of horror story. There's a lot of rumours about witches that are mostly true, but you don't think of Abby as a mindless, uncivilised beast even though she is a were, so there should be room to believe that some witches are not that bad.
(You think of your past and feel ashamed: it's not like you were “not that bad” all your life).
“Don't tell me you've never drunk a potion.” You try to appeal to Abby's own experience, but you know she might have a bad one. “From coughing? Pain killers? Never?”
“Are you saying witches brew them?” Abby smirks like you're ridiculous.
“Well, yes. We sell them for money, that's how everyone gets them.”
Abby is silent as she chews your food that you think is quite edible, actually - but she drinks her flower milk with every spoon and you take a wild guess she can't stomach it.
“Okay, listen. Are you a good cook?”
“Yes, actually. Everyone with enhanced senses makes a good cook.” Abby says with pride and you see her blue eyes sparkle. She also has freckles. Which is kinda cute.
“Then you can cook whatever you want and not suffer.” You offer.
Abby frowns at you like she expects some kind of trickery. You sigh again and raise your hands in defeat. You tried.
“Do you have any meat?”
“...No.”
“And I can't hunt.” Abby explains to you like you're stupid. You roll your eyes.
“There's fish in the freezer. It should be fine.”
That's how Abby spends her afternoon: cooking fish. She has to ask you for other ingredients and you send her to your still room, which makes her shiver. It's creepy - just like you are with your eyes and tattoos and potion drinking or whatever - and Abby thinks of people trapped in these still rooms and being experimented on. She is happy she doesn't see any kind of animal parts on your shelves. You're out of the house for the most part: when Abby looks out of the window, she sees you sitting on the ground, absolutely still. Weirdo.
“At least this weirdo is harmless compared to her kin.” Abby says to herself while she cuts the fish.
You also saved her life and didn't ask for anything in return - not counting leaving you alone after - and Abby really struggles to keep thinking of you as a monster. You don't seem half-bad. And she should make friends here, now that she doesn't have a pack. The thought of being friends with a witch actually makes Abby laugh out loud.
After lunch, which is spent mostly in silence except for your praise on Abby's cooking, you tell her you'll be in the still room and that she can find something to be busy with. You point at books and yarn. Abby rolls her eyes.
She has absolutely nothing to do. Her instincts are going crazy as well: your home looks like it needs an alpha. You're not an omega, and you don't need Abby's help, but she feels like she'll go insane if she doesn't fix something. She fights her urges, but after an hour she gives up and sharpens your knives. It makes her feel easier and she can read in peace now.
You come back in a few hours and sit on the opposite end of your sofa, exhausted. Abby doesn't look at you.
“Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to the village for my check ups. You'll have to come with me.”
Abby frowns. She doesn't want to show her face in the village - what if some of her former packmates are still around and will notice her?
“Can your deals wait?” You sigh loudly, annoyed: can this wolf be nice for one fucking minute or is Abby trying to establish some kind of hierarchy in your house?
“I am a healer.” You deadpan, tired of dealing with Abby’s shit. “People need me.”
“It's not safe for me to show up like this.” Abby scrunches her nose.
“I guess it’s connected to the fact that you were dead yesterday.” You say and Abby can only nod. “I can hide you, if you want. There's a spell that will not let people recognise you if they mean harm.”
Abby coils back. She doesn't want any fucking spells to be put on her! But in a second she clears her head and thinks about it: she clearly doesn’t have a choice if she wants to survive. And you offer her help, so maybe it’s not too bad.
“How can I know you're not fucking with me?” You blink and Abby tries not to look you in the eyes: you look like an owl. And not in a cute way.
“Can't you smell if I lie? I know weres can smell emotions. Also, the bond we have can make you feel awful if I try to harm you.”
Abby hums, thinking it over.
“Okay. But if you try any funny business, you're dead.”
“You'll be dead too, idiot.” You roll your eyes at Abby and she rolls hers in return.
The wolf is kinda annoying. You can understand her distrust, but her threats are getting ridiculous.
The last step of this strange and mostly unpleasant day is getting ready for bed. You look at your small sofa and try to think how Abby will fit, but the other option is the floor, which you assume she won't appreciate. You give her the choice anyway, Abby looks between the sofa and the floor like it's a hard choice, like she thinks the floor is a valid option. Then she agrees to sleep on the sofa. (I'll turn back if I'm uncomfortable, she tells you.) You bring her a pillow and a few blankets: the nights are getting cold and you usually use your magic to keep the hut warm, but you can slip up when you sleep, and wake up to a freezing house.
“Why don't you use wood like normal people?”
“It's too much work. I can find a tree that fell, but you need to chop it, bring it here, chop more, store the logs. Nah. Magic is easier.”
Abby huffs.
“So you rely on your magic all the time.”
“And you rely on your senses and strength.” You deadpan.
Abby doesn't say anything in return, having no valid arguments. You sigh and make a circle with your hand, turning all lights off, and then you show Abby where the candle is in case she needs some light for her reading. Abby nods and you wish each other good night.
You both can’t fall asleep for a long time, too bothered by each other: you don’t like having Abby in your home after she has been so nasty to you for the reason of “the witch”, and Abby doesn’t like being in your home for the reason of, well, “the witch”. She is alive, and she should be happy, but your presence is a constant threat and she can’t let herself fall asleep. You can’t fall asleep because you feel Abby, her life energy like a giant bright light in your living room and it’s hard to ignore it. You try to meditate but it seems to make you even more energised.
You fall asleep when it’s so dark you can’t see anything beyond your windows. Abby falls asleep five minutes later.
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Brienne and Femininity (and Masculinity)
I’ve been musing how one of the most important topics in Brienne's storyline is femininity, and even though her story isn't finished, we can fairly see what some of her major themes are around this—particularly, how performing or failing at performing femininity affects her both internally and externally.
Often I see people pointing out that, in spite of all of Brienne’s traditionally masculine ways—her clothes, her skill set, her body shape, to name a few—she does not fully reject femininity. That she likes little cute animals and fairy tales and wears dresses, and is shy and blushes frequently. This is an important point because, very often, fantasy settings made the assumption that a woman can only be taken seriously if she goes beyond “her womanhood” and acts and thinks “like a man,” as opposed to other girls who are too busy mending or wanting romance. Brienne challenges those tendencies that GRRM saw in his contemporaries. Things have changed a lot since (hello The Locked Tomb, for example), but you can still see where he is working from, and how many of the aspects of Brienne's story still resonate with more modern audiences because, well, sexism hasn't stopped existing. It's also important because the larger asoiaf and got fandoms often refuse to see this side of her, reducing her to a walking sword or a cardboard cut out of a pushover.
Now, my main issue here is that I feel several interpretations of Brienne have now gone on the other direction, and focus so much on Brienne PERFORMING traditional femininity—wearing luxurious dresses, using make up, accepting lavishing gifts, or wondering if she can be desired, for example—that we've gone sometimes on the opposite direction. I feel like many times we’re afraid or do not know how to approach characterizing her as someone who rejects aspects of femininity without making her into another “not like other girls” stereotype.
My two cents on the matter is that if we focus too much in what Brienne can't but "wants" to perform, we forget that she is, in fact, gladly rejecting some common impositions of femininity in her society.
Beginning with swordplay at a young age, for example, she was very glad to ditch a more traditional education in order to learn how to fight the way we know men are taught in asoiaf/got. She is also explicitly more comfortable in men's clothes. We all like the scene where Jaime makes an effort to give her a dress and she appreciates it, but we don't even find out what happened to the dress, because, presumably, the dress itself is not THAT important, at least not as much as the fact Jaime gave her gifts as a form of appreciation. Dresses have been used in Brienne's past to mock her (the event with the bear being the most recent one), and the important part is that Jaime is the only one who has given her one without that ulterior motive. The point of the scene is that where everyone undermines and underestimates her, he is acting the opposite way. We’re seeing how the relationship between them has evolved and that he is doing his best to mend what has happened and what he has done. She is given a dress and a sword as symbols that someone else in the story is beginning to appreciate her for all she is.
Beyond that, we even get details on the old shield Brienne got at Harrenhal, but not a word about the dress. Brienne explicitly doesn't really like being in dresses, she prefers mail and breeches, and feels more at ease in them than anything else. This is not her hating dresses because she is above them. I can’t remember well but as far as we know it’s just her preference: I don’t recall her saying she hates dresses, just that she prefers trousers. She must have been wearing dresses her whole life! It’s not likely she is unused to them. But we do know the act of being given a dress is important in Brienne’s story. The problem is not that they can’t make dresses for her, the problem is that everyone who forces her to wear a dress wants to signal how lacking she is as a woman, trying to fit her in a box too small for her real shape and then mocking her because she doesn’t meet their standard. The problem is they want to make her uncomfortable and they want to humiliate her, because she dares to exist in a way that doesn’t conform to patriarchal ideals. And the problem is that she likes to wear trousers and mail. She likes to wear masculine clothes, and they want her to be very aware of how much they disapprove.
And we also hear a great deal about marrying and having children out of duty. There's a certain loss she feels there because she believes that, at that point, all those missed opportunities will never present themselves again. All her life, she grew up with a dichotomy that dictated that the chance of having a family or children was through duty or none at all, because she is her father’s heir and—they kept telling her—nobody would want an ugly, masculine, temperamental girl as a wife. They could only want her for the money she brought. The point of the story is that, once again, failing the standards of femininity has forced her into a mentality where she thinks she can’t be loved because nobody would like who and what she is. But even then, even with that thorn in her mind, she still feels relieved she didn't have to perform these particular duties. The only thing she’s sad about is that she thinks she's missed any chance at having a family at all and will never know what that might be like. She doesn’t actively want babies or even to be married. She is still young, and at least to me, she seems to view these things in hypothetical rather than explicit goals or wants. She thinks that, at 20, there is no opportunity for her to experience these things because of how her society works. It’s the lack of choice that she mourns, down the line. But she rejects that particularly role that femininity imposes on her now. She didn’t want it, and she is happy it didn’t go through. She literally fought an old man to prove how much she didn’t want those impositions.
All this is interesting to me because Brienne also sort of thinks of herself as her father's son as well as her father's daughter. It almost slips her mouth once or twice. She is aware, I think, that many times the differences between a son and a daughter boil down not really to gender but to the sort of duty they perform. And she wants to do the sorts of things sons do, too. Men regularly learned to fight and wore the clothes she liked best and used hard-earned skills in a way she wanted to use them. There are layers to this (we’ll get to that in a bit) but she is, I think, very aware of her masculinity, and, if left to her own devices, she seems comfortable in it. The problem is she is NOT left to her own devices.
Most of Brienne's self doubt comes from outside forces. As a woman, they underestimate her. As a woman, they think she is stupid. As a gender non-conforming woman, every jape uttered goes directly to her womanhood. As a woman, if she looks the way she does and dresses the way she does and fights the way she does, when she expresses any vulnerable emotion, any shred of “femininity,” she is mocked for it. She likes dancing and beautiful things and pretty boys but a woman as masculine as she is is not the sort of person who gets to express those preferences without judgment from those around her.
The point is Brienne’s world wants her miserable either way: being unable to be a woman the way they demand of her, because she is too much “like a man” for it, or being unable to be a man, because she is too much a woman for that. The point is she can’t win regardless of what she does. Because that’s how sexism works.
But Brienne’s story is, I think, one about choices. The thing is that the world makes it harder for her, but she shouldn't have to be one thing or the other. She shouldn’t have to be defined by one or the other. If she wants to fight in the mud and smell roses and wear chain-mail and talk to charming men, she should be able to choose all of those things. I think it’s easy to focus too much in what aspects of femininity Brienne likes or dislikes instead of looking at what the story is proposing, which is to look at what Brienne,as a person, likes or dislikes. What she wants. Her parallel story to Jaime is about how the world will always try to put folks in boxes, especially those who, for some reason or another, do not easily fit in those boxes. The question is not “what feminine/masculine parts of Brienne is she happy performing” but rather “what does Brienne want, and why does she feel like she cannot get it and doesn't dare ask.”
This is also what drives her to servitude. There’s a phrase out there that says that if you don’t think you can be liked, you try to become useful, so at least there’s a reason to keep you around. It’s heartbreaking to see how Brienne’s vision of herself has been so skewed by the emotional abuse, parental neglect, and bullying she’s experienced since a young age. She doesn’t think anyone will grow close to her, so at least she can be close to people by serving them. She wants to put her skills to use, she wants to find a place where she fits, where she can be more herself, but she isn’t sure what that looks like or how to find it. She’s still searching, and learning many things on the way.
And Brienne is still very young. We can see her confidence growing and her worldview challenged and she is beginning to see the realities of herself and of the world around her through various trials by fire. Misogyny makes her feel incomplete, but we know the things she trusts about herself while simultaneously seeing the way she constantly doubts others. How she can't never express all of herself without constant judgment or mockery.
I feel like yes, the fact Brienne doesn't reject all traditional femininity is really important to her themes, but by extension, it's as important that shedoes reject some of those traditional expressions of femininity. What she is truly rejecting is imposition, not femininity. What she truly needs to embrace is freedom, not masculinity. She's making her own vows, breaking her own promises, going through her own mistakes. She is learning the hard way. Agency in a world of limited choices is one of Brienne's main themes too. There are moral issues that go deep within her story as well as examinations of the effects of war and the struggle to find authenticity and connection in a community that refuses to acknowledge yours, a community drenched in pretense and lost in performance.
And I think it’s easy to get too caught up in her wanting to be a girlfriend or a mother or wearing a dress that we bypass the whole conversation around why that matters at all. I feel like Brienne's success isn't going to come from her fully embracing all her feminine traits or fully accepting all her masculine traits but from being able, down the line, to be exactly who she is.
#i was looking at my drafts and here are some scrambled ideas I had that I wanted to release so I've tried to make them more organized#brienne of tarth#asoiaf
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Careful What You Wish For
I lay the cheap looking lamp on my bathroom counter as I get ready for a bath. I can't believe I caved and bought it, it's obviously a scam. This stupid lamp isn't gonna grant any wishes, that old man just got some free cash out of me. It doesn't matter, I'll just take a relaxing bath and throw on some Netflix later.
I get undressed and run some hot water into the bath. Some scented candles set the mood for relaxation, and I throw on some music. I dip myself into the warm water, and lay back.
My relaxation doesn't last long however, as a rumbling catches my attention. It's the lamp. It's vibrating with enough force that I can feel it from across the bathroom. Suddenly a purple smoke emerges from the lamp.
"I may grant you one wish." A soft whisper echoes out of the smoke.
What the actual fuck. This isn't possible. Did that guy drug me? Maybe I should just say a wish to see if it's true.
"I wish to be a more mature looking guy who likes sports." I blurt out. I've always hated how much I look like a teenager despite being a full blown adult, so this could fix that. Also I wouldn't mind being a fit guy who likes sports, it wouldn't hurt.
The moment I say it, the smoke starts to travel towards me. All the smoke spirals into my mouth and nose. I should be scared, but it kinda feels nice. A warm feeling sprouts in the core of my body, making me feel relaxed again.
As the smoke fills my body, I feel my muscles twitching. It must be true, my body is changing. My twig like arms thicken, with bulging biceps and defined forearms. My soft hands grow twice as big and fill with rough callouses. My chest puffs out into two juicy pecs and my stomach flattens into a cut six pack. My thighs thicken as I feel my ass plump up. Even my feet look like they've grown a few sizes. I also have to start bending my legs, as Ive become too tall for the bath tub I'm sitting in.
I look at my reflection in the water and see a handsome man in his late twenties. Holy shit, I'm hot! I've got a chiselled jawline with a dark beard covering it. All my features seem more angular, more manly. As I'm observing my reflection, I notice a pelt of dark hair grow all over my body. My chest, my arms, my legs, everywhere is dusted in a coat of hair.
This is everything I wanted. Even the sports. Memories of playing sports all throughout school flood my mind. I especially liked soccer, though I also really liked weight lifting. More memories of my extensive sex life flood my mind, people are almost hypnotised by my good looks.
Just as I'm reminiscing about my past, I remember I should be working out right now. I can't skimp out on my workout routine. I go to get out of the bath and notice I've got my underwear on. Huh, I must have forgotten to take it off before getting in the bath.
As I'm stepping out of the bath, something feels wrong. A warm feeling once again fills my core. I look down and see my six pack fade under a belly of fat. It continues growing until it sags over my underwear. My pecs swell into a pair of man tits, though they still have a solid base of muscle. My arms double in size, though with a soft layer of fat now covering the muscles. My hands thicken until they look like stuffed sausages, as more rough features cover them.
I feel my underwear tighten around my waist as my ass fattens. My thighs thicken until there is no gap between them, and my feet grow many sizes. I even feel my perspective shift higher, as my height increases.
The dark hairs on my body fade to an almost white colour as the hair thickens around my body. As I'm looking down at my body, I notice hair on my head fall to the ground. I look in horror at my reflection in the mirror, I have to duck just to fully see my face. My hairline recedes all the way to the back of my head, leaving me practically bald. My once sharp facial features have softened under a layer of fat. And a double chin has formed under my beard. I look so old.
Though the more I stare at my body, the more familiar it becomes. Memories flood into my mind of my career in soccer. I was a high level player, and a popular one at that. But you age out of professional soccer in your late thirties. I started focusing more on the weight lifting and less on the cardio. There was only so long I could keep that six pack, and turning 50 certainly didn't help with that. I don't mind it though, it makes me feel more manly. And it makes the team I coach more afraid of me.
I snap out of my trance. I grab a towel and start to dry off. Damn I forgot to take off my underwear again, I should get rid of this one anyway, it doesn't fit me anymore. I duck and look at myself in the mirror.
"Lookin good coach." I say as I smile at myself.
I turn to the other side of the bathroom and step on my scale. It reads '350'.
"Damn, I've really let go of myself, huh." I say as I jiggle my gut.
I also measure my height, it reads 6"6. I should have gone into volleyball with the build I had.
I dry off and leave the bathroom. I grab a family sized bag of chips and lay my fat ass down on the couch. I open the tv and it's already on the world cup. I really wouldn't want it any other way.
#male tf#masculine#fat tf#hairy#reality change#male wg#muscle tf#male transformation#age progression
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I hc Damian sees dick as more of a father then Bruce, my reasoning is that when Bruce was dead, dick was there for him and Damian already mourned that father and accepted dick as his dad.
and since in my brain Bruce causes most of the issues between the brothers, in a au where Bruce wasn’t rescued all the bats are happy and friendly to each other, dick is the older brother who’s basically their dad, Jason who’s very caring yet also insists he’s not (he has anger issues as well), Tim who can’t seem to fully grasp how much everyone cares for him but it’s getting better, and Damian who actually acts his age and not like a 20 year old man with murder problems (he still has murder issues but dicks made him realize that’s wrong)
There was probably quite a bit of an adjustment period in the beginning. When siblings are faced with a change in dynamics so that they need to rely upon each other instead of being pitted against one another, there tend to be big blowups and fights until they get the hang of things.
In this AU, it would be a bit hard to wrangle all the batkids into getting along. Does Tim never find that portrait that starts his search? Did Bruce actually die? Does Alfred find the portrait first and burn it so his family can finally be free (very ooc, but a cool concept)?
Tim finding out Bruce is alive is like a match near gasoline for him. He destroys all of his current relationships (justified or not) to save his dad.
There's also the grief aspect. The Battle of the Cowl could be seen as just the kids trying to find footing with the changes and the grief of loosing their dad.
It doesn't matter how much of a bastard Bruce is in this AU, the kids will still grieve his loss. If he was just unredeemable, they wouldn't have hung on so much. It doesn't matter how much Bruce hits them, verbally abuses them, manipulates, or abandons them when he turns around and acts like a good dad. He has good moments. That's the confusing and complicated aspect of it.
Bruce is the type of man to remember a fact his kids mentioned once off-handedly and distracted. He'd remember when they mentioned a childhood toy they loved but could never find again. He would spend months tracking down that company and hiring them to make they toy again if they didn't have any on hand. There's so much time, effort, and money he would put into such a notion, and he wouldn't make a big deal about it. The kid would probably just find it in their room one day and know it was Bruce.
Then he would turn around and try to convince the kid that all of their friends are out to get them and they can't trust anyone.
This AU would be hard to manage because only Dick is at the stage where he would be willing to give up on his dad. With the fallout of Robin, Dick moved on from unconditional love and belief in Bruce. He went to anger and hurt. He slowly healed those pains, but they were changed. Dick couldn't go back to how they were, but ultimately still loved his dad. Jason's death shattered their relationship. Even after Tim interfered, Dick would never be able to forgive Bruce for that. In the comics, he confronted Bruce about not being told about Jason's death. Bruce's response? He screamed at Dick, hit him, told him he shoulf have never had a partner, told Dick that he would've fired Jason in a few years like he did Dick, and then told Dick to hand his keys to the Manor to Alfred on his way out.
Bruce and Dick can go to therapy for years to work on their relationship, but Dick will never trust Bruce with his siblings again. He can trust the man on a battlefield, but he can't trust him at home.
Dick's love to Bruce, I hc, would turn to apathy, longing, and bitterness intermingled with spurts of reluctant fondness.
Jason, on the other hand, is pissed at Bruce, but he has too much passion to just let him go. It's a transition stage from love to anger to indifference. Through his reactions and actions during the Battle of the Cowl, it's obvious he still cares about Bruce somewhat. The opposite of love isn't hate. It's indifference. If he didn't somewhat care about Bruce, his death wouldn't impact him so much. I personally feel that the incident with Penguin and Gotham Wars is where Jason starts to become indifferent instead. To hate Bruce is to want to change him. It's to want him to be better because you know he can be. To be indifferent to him (outside of horrible actions the man commits) is to know he won't change. It's to give up on him.
Jason still remembers getting ice cream on patrol, sharing popcorn on the couch, reassuring promises of protection, and the laughter he could startle out of his dad. His anger and aggression against Bruce is because he believes that his dad could kill the Joker. He had believed that Bruce would have. Regardless on whether it was the right thing to do or whether a younger version would have wanted that, Jason had faith in Bruce. He ultimately considers his father to be a good guy. Perhaps someone that hurts Jason, but still a good guy.
Dick doesn't regard his father as such. He knows better.
The other kids are still at the love stage, where they rely on Batman and Bruce to be decent and a hero.
Tim may have complicated feelings about Bruce being his dad (how credible that is especially given their history), but he trusts Bruce to make the right decisions. That gospel has been shaken a few times, but it still holds.
Damian is still a child. Capable, kind, fierce, and strong, but still a child.
Cass was given the mission of the Bat by Bruce. He has shown her love and kindness others have not. She can see what he feels and intends to do even as he hurts others. He does not kill.
Barbara has Dick's back before she has Bruce's. Barbara is independent. She does not have the confidence in Bruce that the others do.
I hope Duke is enjoying his time with his parents free from bat drama.
Anyways, I do think the Bats would be better off if Tim hadn't found proof of Bruce's continued existence (it is not his fault that Bruce returned to do horrible shit. He is not to blame). Without it, there might not have been as big of a fallout between Tim and everyone else. There would have been lots of drama and fights between the remaining Bats, but they would eventually settle into a healthier unit.
If anyone wants more about any of this, feel free to send me another ask with what parts you'd like elaborated.
#dc comics#dc universe#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#bruce wayne#batfam#thank you for the ask!!!!
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PAC How Will Your Future Spouse View You
Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3
DISCLAIMER THIS IS A GENERAL READING TAKE WHAT RESONATES AND LEAVE WHAT DOESN'T.
Strictly for entertainment purposes.
PILE 1
So, before I get into the tarot bit of the reading the overall vibe I am getting is that you and your future spouse will be that couple that are still doing cute stuff together even in old age. You know those older couples you see on TikTok on dates still happy and very much in love, yeah like that. One word I can use to describe it is cozy, just very warm and affectionate basically feeling like this person is your home. It's going to be like 'I'd rather come home to you then be anywhere else'.
On to the tarot bit, Your FS sees you as someone very confident and optimistic (even if you don't see yourself that way). They see you as being positive and very wholesome. Again, before I pulled cards I channelled and I still got the warmth.
Oh my gosh, if any of you have read The Song of Achilles that's basically it. Before anyone points out to me they were a same sex couple .Yes, I know but I am talking about the relationship dynamic between Patroclus and Achilles.
You may have gone through a difficult time in your life and your future spouse will admire how strong and resilient you are, how you're able to adapt to challenges and changes in environment. You may be the type of person who is connected to both their divine feminine and masculine and they truly find that attractive.
They certainly view you as their other half and I know its cliche to say soulmate but that's all your future spouse is saying. You just give them so much happiness and emotional fulfilment.
'They are my home, my soulmate, my forever'
PILE 2
Ugh Pile 2 your spouse will literally worship you😩. Like you'll tell them your insecurities and they'll just sit there kissing every scar, mark, dimple anything you're insecure about they'll adore. If you're a female or a feminine reading this and you have thick thighs I heard them say 'Come here and crush my skull with those sexy thighs'. Whoever you are you have someone's poor child down horrendous for you.
I think they may be the type to just watch your social media whether you are getting to know each other, dating, engaged or married your social media pages, pictures and videos will always be on their phone screen and they won't go to sleep without listening to a little voice message you sent. Once they get attached baby there's absolutely no getting rid of them, I heard 'You'll have an easier time getting rid of bed bugs'.
When you meet them, they may be a party animal or a player.
Disclaimer it's not toxic obsession more like they will let you be your own person but at the end of the day they are yours and you are theirs, you are their spouse, and they are your spouse and they will forever put you on a pedestal not to the open where they will neglect themselves.
They see you as a prize (again not in a creepy way) You may have options when you meet this person but best believe they'll make sure to stand out and win you over. They see you as the best the world has to offer in terms of what a wife/husband/spouse should be. Your person may have had a few letdowns when it came to love and just know that they see you as a dream come true and again, I know that's very cliche but trust me when Isay they view having you as a spouse as their biggest accomplishment and they want you to know that they'll prove to you every day they are worthy to call themselves your spouse. They feel like you have gone through a period of depression and sadness, and they want you to know that they acknowledge it and they see you as strong every day.
The couple I channelled for you guys is Queen Charlotte and King George from Bridgerton.
PILE 3
First thing I heard 'Sugar Daddy'. This person will spoil you but love you even more. Yes, they may have money and give you gifts but this person truly does love you, care about you and respect you.
They may be older than you that's why people may think that they are your glucose guardian which is not technically wrong and not technically correct either. I feel like that will be a long term joke you two have about them being your sucrose supplier..
They will definitely view you as delicate, I want to say that they are the protective type but not protective to the point of you feeling suffocated by them. They want you to be comfortable and have what you like 'If my spouse wants that watch I'll get it for them'.
They will view you as fun loving, yet you have this air of power to you that they love. Sure, they view you as delicate and they want to protect you, but they also view you as strong and beyond capable of taking care of yourself and those around you basically your spouse is saying 'they want me, but they don't need me'. They know that you can walk away from them anytime and they like that you're always in your power no matter what.
Your spouse admires how you don't need them to feel whole or for financial gain they see you as a breath of fresh air, a change of pace, an adventure.
He may touch you a lot with your consent obviously, like a hand on your waist, shoulder or they may steal little quick kisses. Also, there may be a lot of friendly banter in the relationship.
The couple I channel for you guys is Fallon and Liam from Dynasty.
#free tarot reading#pick a pile#pick a card#future spouse#tarot reading#tarotcommunity#tarotblr#tarot cards#daily tarot#love tarot reading#love tarot free#pagan#paganblr#hellenic pagan#Spotify
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I love you, it’s ruining my life - Geto Suguru
Words: 1,5k
Summary: You stood besides Geto for over a decade but despite loving him so much, it was ruining you.
Tags: heavy angst, canon, set during 2017-2018, blood, mentions of death, no happy ending, a bit of Gojo x reader but not romantic, no use of y/n, gn!reader
Notes: a request and a one shot in a single day, yep 🤭
Jujutsu Kaisen materialist
When he decided to leave, you left with him.
More than 10 years had passed since then, you were no longer kids, you had changed. Even though there were mornings where you looked in the mirror and still saw the 17 year old student you once were. But when you looked at him, there was nothing left of that 17 year old boy.
You still loved him and you would probably always, but that love was consuming you.
But that day, you didn't see the 17 year old girl, what you saw in the mirror was a tired young woman, with a dull face and dark circles under her eyes. You felt like all your color was completely gone.
Existing your room, you walked through the hallway until you spot Suguru’s silhouette, I was talking to Miguel, apparently there was a course that Suguru was interested in obtaining. Passing by, you walked and saw a couple of people waiting for Suguru to serve them. Your heart was squeezed when you thought about the fate they would have.
You had accompanied Suguru for all these years, but you had never been able to agree with his ideas and until that day they continued to make you nauseous.
You sighed and went outside, where you sat on one of the benches there. In the distance you could see Tokyo and the memories of when you were a teenager began to come to you. Would you be there if you had realized earlier how Suguru was? If you had tried harder? If I had supported him more? Everything was what ifs... That they would never be, you answered and you could only imagine what could have been.
“You are here.” A deep voice, spoke behind your back. “Geto is looking for you.”
You stood up and nodded slowly. Walking towards where Suguru was, you felt your heart flutter nervously. You opened the door and found him sitting on his “throne”. When you entered you could see traces of blood on the floor. You turned your head, feeling the vomit rise in your throat.
"I'm sorry." Suguru murmured from his seat. “I thought it would take you longer so you wouldn't see the blood of that dirty monkey, but you came.”
“Suguru…” You tremble. “Don't you think that's enough…?”
"What do you mean?" He rose from his throne.
“What I mean…” Your heart fluttered. “Let's go Suguru, let's go away.” You approached him. “You, the girls and me. Far from everything…”
Suguru's gaze was cold. “Do you hear yourself?” He smiled zinicly. “Do you want to run away? After all these years? Of my progress? Don’t be foolish.”
“Suguru… please…” Your eyes stung.
Suguru snorted and moved away from your touch and it was then, seeing his back, that the boy who once swore he would love you forever, died long ago.
“I know you loved me.” You looked down. “But you don’t love me anymore.” Those words were heavy on you, it felt like stones being thrown at yourself.
“That’s what you think?” Suguru asked
“I don’t think that, it’s what it is, Suguru.” You held back your tears, not wanting to cry in front of him. “The only times we are intimate it’s when you want to have sex, the rest of the time… I don’t even see you because you are to focus on killing people.”
“Monkeys, those are not people, they are monkeys.” You shook your head trying to ignore his words. “Don’t tell me you don’t agree with what we are doing.” He approached you and you took a step back.
“I don’t think I ever did Suguru.”
“Then why? Why did you follow me?” His tone was clear, he was angry.
“Because I love you!” You raised your voice. “I love you Suguru, I always did. And you needed me back then… you needed someone and I… I couldn’t leave you.”
“So you never truly believed in what I was doing…”
“That’s what matters to you?” You raised your gaze facing him. “If I agree with what you are doing?”
“Yes!” He was the one to shut this time. “You were the… the only one who stayed and I thought it was because you agreed but it was because you loved me.” A hoarse laugh came from his throat. “You thought that if you came with me and with that love of yours I was going to change?”
He looked at you and you said nothing, because yes, your foolish self really thought it was going to be able to change him, to make him go back and try to find a solution to what he did. But you were a fool and even 10 years later you were still a fool, because deep down you were still hoping you could make him understand.
“I won’t change, I will never change, I will kill all those monkeys and create a world where only sorcerers exist.” He sat down. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”
The first tear rolled down your cheek. “I love you Suguru.” You said. “But it’s ruining my life.”
Suguru stayed silent, not saying a word, not saying anything. This wasn’t the guy you fell in love with, years ago, that boy wouldn’t stare at you and do nothing.
You stepped away and turned around to leave the room. Before exiting the room, you look at him one last time.
“I love you Suguru, I will always love you.” You whipped the tears away and left the room.
After that last look, the days passed and turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months. Suguru never looked for you, you were alone. You couldn't go back to where you were once happy because that would doom you and you couldn't go back to the person you loved because she was long dead.
You looked up and saw the snow falling. The new year had begun with snow. You hugged your body and walked through the new streets of the small town you had moved to. There you could simply be you and help those like you who could see curses and didn't understand it.
“The ground is slippery over there.” A voice spoke behind you.
You stopped dead when you heard it, how many years had it been since you had heard that voice? You didn't even know it anymore.
You carefully turned to confirm that the owner of that voice was the one who was once your best friend. And indeed, a few meters away from you was Gojo Satoru. Taller than the last time he saw it that October afternoon. Unlike that time, his eyes were completely covered by a white blindfold.
“Satoru…” You murmured.
“You lost weight.” He simply said.
Ignoring his words, you went straight to the point. “Are you here to execute me?” You asked him, trying to pretend that your voice was shaky.
Satoru shook his head. “Why would I?” Before you could answer he continued. “There is no execution order for you, so there is no reason for me to execute you.”
“What?” You said stunned. "How is that possible? I spent years with him, they should…”
“You were never considered a threat like him and I asked them not to include you on the list of cursed sorcerers.”
You pursed your lips and nodded. "Thanks, I guess." You hugged yourself tighter, to stop yourself from shaking. “What are you doing here then Satoru?”
"He is dead."
Your breath caught and your heart skipped a couple of beats before it began to break. Suguru was dead… Suguru… You stifled a cry, not wanting to cry in front of Satoru.
“I’m sorry…” Satoru whispered.
“Why are you sorry for?” Your voice coming out like a whisper from your throat.
“It was me…”
And then a cold breeze hit your face.
You shook your head and looked up at the sky trying to stop the crying. “It’s what you had to do…” You heard Satoru's footsteps approaching you. “Did he say something before he died?”
“He gave me this.” Satoru took your hand and placed an object on it. “He told me he was sorry and that I love you until the last moment.” You carefully opened your hand, finding a ring.
You clenched your fist to your chest and began to sob. You felt Satoru's warm body wrap around you and try to calm those sobs that didn't stop coming out of you. After a few minutes, you managed to calm down and separated from Satoru.
“Thank you…” You said.
Satoru handed you a folded piece of paper. “My number and Shoko's are written down. Call us when you need it or if... if you want to come back there again. Yaga won’t care and if the old guys say something, I’ll take care of it.”
You looked at the paper and then at Satoru. “I'll keep that in mind Satoru… thank you.”
“Take care.” He said and turned around to walk off.
You saw his silhouette get into a car and then disappear. Opening your hand again, you looked at the ring again.
“I love you Suguru.” You murmured kissing the ring and letting once again your tears flow.
#geto suguru fanfiction#getou suguru x y/n#getou suguru x you#geto fluff#getou suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru#jjk geto#jujutsu geto#geto x you#geto x y/n#jjk suguru#suguru fluff#fanfic jjk#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru fanfic#gojo satoru x oc#satoru gojo x reader
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I can’t find the post but a while ago you made a post about Jawbone not being able to show his anger due to the way people see/fear werewolves and Sandra Lynn showing it for him.
With the fucking Bobby reveal I just keep thinking about it Jawbone having to know the kind of details he knows about how this man likely manipulated and abused someone barely old enough not to be a student at the school. Jawbone constantly having to talk himself down from wanting to rip the man limb from limb by reminding himself that if Bobby tries that shit again that student will need him just as much as Sandra Lynn does
(Also, just Sandra-Lynn breaking down at Mordrid finding out he’s back in town and Lydia just offering to take Ragh and the two of them to murder him in the middle of the night since she’s not his coworker and wouldn’t have to worry about it being obvious.)
I have this post in my drafts about Jawbone's behavior changing post finding out that Bobby Dawn was the one who did that to his partner.
How he used to respond politely to conversation with strained smiles and curt words, but wouldn't even look at him after. How his lip curls whenever he walks into the room. How he refuses to look him in the eyes, nor speak to him at all. How he never talks about Sandra Lynn anymore, and when asked about her, he just replies with a curt "she's fine" and won't elaborate.
Somehow, the silence is more chilling. The glancing daggers over the staff room over the lunch she prepared for him.
He puts extra care into the cleric students after that, asking careful questions to make sure they aren't being abused as she was.
(Lydia and Ragh killing him in the middle of the night is so perfect too. Like yeah, get his fucking ass. Two barbarians very protective of their families, sneaking up on this bitchass man when he least expects it)
#dimension 20#fantasy high#fhjy spoilers#sandra lynn faeth#jawbone o'shaughnessey#lydia barkrock#ragh barkrock
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Is it OK if I ask for a appleradio baby daughter design as a baby if so, thank you very much and
They do!!
Moisés(the on w the eye closed) and Caleb(the one that is alastor holding! And btw designed by My friend)
It's fun responding to everyone Ask, they are always Open! It's fun to do requests
Some fact, lucifer created them w Magic using a Lil bit of alastor's blood, he was so tired and weak for days something thqt alastor lowkey enjoyed
Moisés is constantly doing white Moisés everytime he is quiet but his Frequencies changed depends of his humor
Caleb has a old timey phone that comes out from his pocket, he can only talk thru that
Remember leaving your Ask! Kiissss
#alastor x lucifer#hazbin alastor#hazbin art#hazbin lucifer#lucifer x alastor#radioapple#appleradio#alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer
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I'm so obsessed with Ichigo that I become one of those insane MILs you hear stories about. You can't blame me because no one is good enough nor deserves Ichigo (don't even try to change my mind)
Urahara? I'll still bring up those moments of when he withheld information. I don't care how much time has passed or that Ichigo has forgiven him, that man does not deserve my boy.
Kuchiki? Too cold and serious. He can soften up as much as he wants, he does not get to stand next to Ichigo.
Aizen? No.
Shunsui? Get that womanizing lazy bum away from Ichigo. He will not treat him right.
Grimmjow?... Okay, I like him but only because he's a cat! Still not getting my blessing, though!
If I was in their world, at even the slightest hint of interest I'm going for the throat. Actually, you know what? It's on sight. Can't give those guys any time to catch feelings. Better get rid of them early.
Ichigo will remain single forever. If he wants kids, then he can make them from clay and breathe life into them as it was done in the old days.
Valid darling, we've all got at least one blorbo that makes us froth at the mouth
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Elrond had a strange dream. In the dream, there were Maitimo and Elros, as well as Makalaurë, who wandered through many ages before finally returning to Valinor. Elrond was overjoyed, confident in his healing skills despite his foster father appearing broken and mentally unstable. As long as everyone was together, there were no obstacles they couldn't overcome. Makalaurë in the wheelchair suddenly seemed to recall something, his scattered gaze gradually focusing on the child before him.
"Elrond."
Elrond nodded eagerly, "It's me! Atar, do you remember me?"
"How could I forget you, my little star," Makalaurë said. "I have a secret to tell you."
Elrond longed to climb onto his foster father’s lap like he did as a child, resting his head in his embrace. Strangely, as the thought crossed his mind, his body slowly shrank until he resembled his six-year-old self. Makalaurë reached out to him, and Elrond immediately threw himself into the long-awaited, familiar embrace.
For a while, no one spoke; the poet's slender fingers gently stroked the child's head. Birds chirped cheerfully, and golden and silver light filtered through the branches, bathing them.
When was the last time I hugged Atar? Little Elrond wondered. It was the day Maitimo sent us away! Then everything happened too fast; Elros and I didn't have time to decide, and we lost so much forever.
But fortunately, they were all back now.
"What secret do you want to tell me?" Elrond asked, looking up.
"It's about the Second Music," Makalaurë said.
A strange sensation... The light seemed to change, and he felt his eyelids trembling slightly.
"The Second Music?"
"Yes. During my wanderings, I glimpsed fragments of it. It's beautiful and serene, just like the early days of Valinor, before everything. But there is no sorrow.
"We will reunite in a better place. Do you understand, my little star? One day, you will see that we are all waiting for you."
"Why don't we go together?" Elrond asked nervously, noticing that Makalaurë was still wearing the same robe they wore on the day they parted, with a string of jewels shining on his head.
Makalaurë held him close, tears streaming from his eyes.
Elrond heard many, many voices saying to him:
"Dear Elrond, see you in the Second Singing!"
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