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kaiijo · 19 hours

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ROMANCE TROPES — [HAIKYUU]

characters: hinata shoyo, miya atsumu, bokuto koutarou, sakusa kiyoomi content: gn! reader, the msby four, rich sakusa (i am a rich sakusa truther until the end), bokuto picks you up, sakusa is implied to be taller than you notes: omg i lowkey want to do a fuller version of sakusa’s part

hinata shoyo ✶ love at first sight

slouched in a plastic airport seat, hinata’s leg bounces anxiously as he awaits his flight. rain beats down the side of the windows and he prays to whatever universal force there is that the flight leaves at the right time. he couldn’t fly with everyone else earlier since he celebrated his grandmother’s birthday with family but it put him on a late night flight that lined up with an incoming storm.

he scrolls mindlessly through his social media feed, double-tapping a photo of oikawa’s reunion with his high school team and tanaka’s anniversary post for kiyoko.

the speaker system crackles to life. “attention, passengers of flight 7644 to sapporo, due to inclement weather conditions, the flight has been delayed an estimated two hours. we apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your patience.”

hinata curses under his breath, already on his way to pulling up the black jackals’s group chat to tell them. he pulls his cap off, running a hand through his hair with a long sigh. his phone begins to buzz with texts, no doubt from his coach telling him to keep them updated.

he rests his forearms on his knees, slumping forward and skimming through the messages. then, he feels a cautious tap on his shoulder and a soft voice asks, “excuse me, do you have a charger i could use?”

when he looks up, hinata thinks the greater powers that be answered a different prayer of his. because holy shit he has never seen anyone as beautiful as you. you’re in a comfy-looking pullover and sweatpants and hinata only realizes he’s just been staring silently for a few seconds when your expression turns apologetic. “i’m sorry to bother you, i’ll ask someone else!”

“no, no, i’m sorry,” he says, words tumbling out of his mouth. he scrambles to unzip his backpack, rummaging through until he triumphantly pulls out his charger. he hands it to you and you thank him. before you can leave, he blurts out, “i’m hinata.”

“oh!” you stick your hand out and tell him your name with a small smile and when you do, hinata knows that he’s gone.

miya atsumu ✶ brother’s best friend

osamu’s not sure how atsumu managed to weasel his way into his plans. it was a bit of a blur, atsumu practically crashing through the door of onigiri miya as osamu closed up shop to go get drinks with you, begging to be included. he supposes to reason was pity and atsumu’s pleading look as well as the fact that you work far away that had him agreeing to his brother tagging along.

it was in your last year of high school that osamu figured out his brother had a big, fat crush on you. honestly, it should have been more obvious, especially with the way atsumu flaunted himself and often paraded around the house shirtless when he knew you were coming over. it bothered him at first, thinking bitterly that ‘tsumu couldn’t let him just have one thing to himself? but over time, the annoyance faded as he saw atsumu prove that this wasn’t just a flight-of-fancy, and osamu has already made peace with the very real possibility that you could be his in-law someday. that is, is atsumu could even tell you in the first place.

it’s a little disturbing, osamu thinks, watching the way atsumu flirts with you and wondering if he too makes the same googly-eyes at someone he’s crushing on or if that’s the way he sounds. you giggle when atsumu tries to take a sip of your margarita, telling him, “order your own then, ‘tsumu!”

“nah, yours tastes way better.”

“can’t take this scrub anywhere,” osamu says, earning a laugh from you and a glare from his twin.

you pat atsumu’s shoulder and osamu can’t believe you don’t feel how atsumu melts into your touch. “i’m actually glad both of you are here,” you say, “because i wanted to tell you guys that i’m moving back to tokyo! my boss promoted me so i’m back at main headquarters! isn’t that great?”

“that’s awesome,” osamu says, speaking for both himself and atsumu, who looks like he just won the lottery.

bokuto koutarou ✶ opposites attract

whenever akaashi introduces you and bokuto as a couple to new people, he always gets pulled over to the side and asked in a whisper, “how did those two get together? he’s so… and they’re less…”

akaashi can’t say that he wasn’t surprised when you and bokuto started dating back in high school, given that they two of you were on very different trajectories. obviously, bokuto was the captain of fukurodani’s volleyball team while you were student council president and vice-president of chess club. bokuto’s grade sat at the lower end of the spectrum while you were always within the top five students in your class. bokuto liked loud, screaming parties while you preferred a quiet night with a few friends.

so when bokuto grabbed him by the shoulders one day and shook him, saying that he needed to tell you how he felt, akaashi was taken off-guarded. he didn’t even know you knew each other beyond having a mutual friend, him.

maybe back then, akaashi would have agreed with the person asking him but now, he just tells them to observe the two of you. because when akaashi does, everything falls into place. like right now, as he and bokuto sit in the stands, watching your final chess match. if you win, you’ll hold onto your spot as a national champion and go on to compete internationally.

out of the corner of his eyes, akaashi watches as bokuto sits at the very edge of his seat, chewing on his bottom lip. it’s clearly killing him not to cheer and it’s a testament to both his devotion to you. your hand hovers above the bishop before you switch quickly to the queen and move the piece with confidence, setting it down and announcing, “checkmate.”

the crowds erupts into the cheers and you’ve only barely finished shaking your opponent’s hand when bokuto flies out of his seat and barrels towards you. he sweeps you off your feet, spinning you once and setting you down before planting a big kiss on your cheek. you’re beaming as you’re handing your trophy, and bokuto steps back to let you soak up your spotlight. akaashi can’t help but notice that bokuto is beaming too and clapping the loudest.

as the crowd starts to disperse, akaashi and bokuto join you again, ready to take you to your planned dinner. before you leave, bokuto says, “i was going to do this later but i can’t hold it in anymore, babe.” and he gets down on one knee with a ring box akaashi is all-too familiar with.

sakusa kiyoomi ✶ reunited childhood sweethearts

“try not to look so dour, sweetheart,” sakusa’s mother tells him as she fixes his tie. sakusa wants to grumble some choice words but he knows better than to complain to her. besides, he’s only partially paying attention, eyes darting about the crowd and back towards the venue’s entrance.

he settles on adjusting his mask with a barely audible sigh and mumbles a quiet thanks as she flits to fuss over his older siblings. he glances again, disappointed as a different group of people waltzes in. he knows his older sister wouldn’t be so cruel as to lie to him that your family will be in attendance but the anxiety is making his antsy.

the two of you were inseparable as children with you being one of his only friends growing up. you spent you days squirreled away in some nook reading or outside playing volleyball. your mothers always cooed that you two would get together one day, and as he got older and learned what that really meant, sakusa found himself hoping too. but then your parents took you and your siblings abroad, leaving him alone and heartbroken. he cut you off, hoping the distances and time would make your departure hurt less, but it didn’t.

sakusa doesn’t recognize the voice that calls his name but his head snaps towards the doorway. you’re standing in between your older sister and younger brother, waving at him. his heart skips a beat. your social media postings don’t do you enough justice; you’re even more attractive that the pixels he

s spent hours staring at.

you still have that ever-present smile on your face and you quickly break-off from your family to bound over to him. without even thinking, his arms close around you as you embrace him tightly. you feel so familiar and he doesn’t want to let you go as you part. evidently, you don’t either as you keep him close still, only leaning away to look at him. “you’re so tall,” you laugh, more shyly you add, “and very handsome.”

this time, sakusa thinks his heart stops.

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #msby x reader #black jackals x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 2 days

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In The Night

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~3.3k

Summary: Late night out

A/N: Another risk assessment

Warnings: stalking, violence, blood, hurt/comfort

The years you’ve spent with your wife have only heighted your already healthy paranoia. You didn’t go anywhere alone after dark if you could help it, and if you did, you tried to at least have your dog with you.

Tonight, you only had yourself to blame. It was nearly 10 o’clock and you’d watched as night fell from where you sat with some of your friends and Boone at a brewery near work. You didn’t drink much because you never do, but you’ve eaten enough to become pleasantly full and a little sleepy. You reach out to pet your dog and smile when he sniffs your hand for any morsel of food. You haven’t given him anything but his treats under the table, and you know he’s not very happy about this.

“It’s getting late.”

You say this despite it being way earlier than the last night you’d spent out with your friends. However, this time you have your dog, and you also want to get home to your wife. She’s texted a couple of times, and seeing a picture of her on the couch with Fletcher makes you want to get home sooner so you can join her.

You hug your friends goodbye before they leave you and Boone to head back to your car only a couple of blocks away.

You’re only a little on edge as you leave the bright lights of the brewery behind you for the dimly lit streets. You figure Bucky is nearby, but you try to walk as quickly as you can without seeming like you’re running. Boone’s walking beside you and you’re holding his leash in a white knuckled grip as you turn the corner down the road where your car is parked.

The sound of her phone ringing from the coffee table jolts Wanda back to consciousness. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until she sees that the show she’d been watching has stopped playing, and Fletcher was nowhere in sight. She sighs as she reaches for her phone and answers it almost before it’s to her ear when she sees it’s Bucky. As usual, he was following you around since you were away from home. Hopefully he was calling to tell her that you were on your way back.

“Hey Bucky.”

“Wanda, I need you to meet me downtown. Now.”

Wanda’s already off the couch and running to the garage before Bucky’s finished speaking. She asks what’s wrong, but she doesn’t wait for a response as she slams her hand against the garage door opener just outside the door as she steps into a pair of boots before running for her car. Wanda jumps inside and the engine roars to life before she backs the car out almost before the garage door is all the way opened.

“We’re going to meet whoever’s been tailing you for the past couple of weeks.”

Your car is only about 100 feet away, and at this point it’s one of the only ones on the street given the late hour. You pick up the pace a bit before reaching into your pocket for the key fob to start the car. You’re still 50 feet away when the engine cuts on and you breathe a sigh of relief. You’re almost to your car when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You smile when you see it’s Wanda and you’re opening the passenger door to let Boone jump in when you hear your wife’s voice come through your car speakers.

“Hey Wands.”

You’re fiddling with your phone so you can still hear your wife as you shut the door and step off the sidewalk.

“Y/n, where are you? Are you safe?”

You stop in your tracks at Wanda’s frantic voice, and you’re about to tell her that you’re fine when you hear something behind you. You don’t get a chance to turn around when something is thrown over your head and pulled tight against your throat. You gasp and drop your phone as your hands go to grab at the cord that’s quickly tightening around your neck. You can’t see much through the hood over your head, but you see shadows moving around you as you’re dragged back onto the sidewalk. You hear Boone’s muffled bark from inside the car and realize that you should have gotten in first. Or at the very least not shut the door on him.

You’re kicking and trying to regain your footing as you gasp for breath, but when you feel someone try to grab your legs, you realize you’re running out of time. You hiss out a curse as you reach to your right side where you have a hunting knife stashed under your jacket.

Your brother-in-law had gotten it for you as a gag gift because he knew how much you hated the idea of hunting. After seeing your wide-eyed, confused expression, he’d told you and Wanda that it was something you could use to protect yourself. He’d even suggested putting it in Boone’s harness pouch of weapons.

You’re extremely grateful that you’d chosen not to do this tonight as you feel the handle against your fingers and quickly yank the knife out from under your jacket. You bring it down behind you as hard as you can, and you hear a satisfying scream when you bury your knife into the man’s thigh. You gasp when you’re dropped and air floods into your lungs as you rip the hood off your head and breathe in deeply. You look up from where you’re on your knees to see that the person who’d been trying to help cart you off to who knows where was about to grab you again. You don’t have time to think about it, and you raise the knife that you luckily held onto.

“You bitch!”

You blink when you realize that you sliced open his cheek, but he’s still coming after you. You curse as you try to catch your breath enough to stand up, but movement out of the corner of your eye makes you pause. You open your mouth to curse again, but you don’t make it in time.

You can only watch as Boone jumps out the now open window and lunges at the bleeding man in front of you. You’re barely on your feet when you feel someone grab your hair and yank you backwards. Your world spins and you’re shoved against brick, your hand that’s holding the knife stuck between you and the wall.

“Fuck-.”

You don’t know what would have happened next, but the feeling of more hands on you tells you enough to be grateful for the rescue. You hear tires squealing and multiple gun shots that make you flinch in anticipation. You hear your dog snarling and you decide you need to figure out what’s going on, so you push back as hard as you can against the body that’s at least a hundred pounds heavier than you. He stumbles but doesn’t fall, but it’s enough for you to have time to turn around and kick him to the ground.

You look around frantically for the next threat, and can’t help the way you fall against the wall breathless. Now that you’re able to think, you realize that you hurt all over, and each ragged breath you take burns.

“Y/n!”

You finally notice the car parked behind your own, and see that Wanda is running toward you. You glance down when you see that Boone is still mauling the guy who choked you and you barely even flinch when Wanda hits him in the head with the gun that you just realized she’s holding.

“Y/n, we need to go. Can you give Bucky your keys?”

You flinch violently when Bucky appears out of nowhere and comes to stand by you. You see that he has a cut above his brow and a couple of bruises on his face. You don’t have time to ask what happened and you’re reaching for your keys without a word. You’re too dazed to say anything as Bucky gets in your car and starts it up again before he takes off.

You let Wanda lead you to her car that’s still running, and she opens the door for you before hurrying to the driver’s side. Boone jumps into the open back window and Wanda raises it before she takes off after Bucky. You don’t hear the sirens in the distance, but Wanda does and she takes a deep breath before speeding to catch up with Bucky.

“Are you okay, detka? Where are you hurt?”

Only then, do you realize that you’d been holding your breath since your wife arrived, and you gasp again before you double over and start coughing. You’re shaking by the time you drop the bloodied knife at your feet, and you struggle to catch your breath as your head throbs.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to focus on breathing as Wanda speaks up. You don’t realize that she’s on the phone, until you look up and see that she’s hanging up on them. You sigh and lean back in your seat with a shake of your head.

“It’s okay. I don-no doctors, okay?”

Wanda frowns and turns to you briefly before she looks back to the road with a sigh. It’s just light enough in the car for her to see that you’re bleeding, but other than a small scratch on your face, she can’t tell where it’s coming from. She’s also not sure why you’re coughing which is worrying her, but she’s already made arrangements to have a doctor waiting at the house by the time you get back. Instead of arguing with you about this right now, she decides to figure out what she can about what happened.

“Y/n, where are you hurt? I’ll drive us to the hospital right now unless you tell me.”

This gets your attention and you take a moment to focus on your aching body. Your head hurts probably from being slammed into a brick wall, or maybe the brief oxygen deprivation, and your knees and stomach hurt. It’s not until you mention your stomach that you look down and see that you’re bleeding.

You’re not sure how that happened, but you can’t be bothered by this right now. You’d rather figure out what the hell happened tonight.

“What-who were those people?”

What did they want?

You don’t bother asking this question because Wanda understands without it. You watch as her grip on the steering wheel tightens as she drives away from town and up toward the mountain road that will lead to your house. You aren’t going to tell Wanda this now because you hope she’ll offer an explanation, but you had a feeling as soon as you sat down for dinner tonight, that something would happen.

You’re paranoid, for sure, but as soon as you’d reached town and parked, you felt eyes on you. This was confirmed when you noticed the same nondescript car drive by the brewery at least three times. It wasn’t a weekend; parking shouldn’t have been that difficult to find. Then the second hint had been the fact that Bucky had left the restaurant about an hour before you did, and then he never came back.

You had figured that he was going to wait somewhere else, somewhere still in sight, but apparently he’d been searching for the same tail you noticed.

“Bucky thinks they were trying to take you for ransom. He tried to track them down when he called me, and they ended up running him off the road.”

Your eyes widen at this and you realize now why Bucky looked so beat up. You make a mental note to check on him tomorrow, but for now you’re just grateful he was able to call Wanda before it was too late.

You groan under your breath when Wanda pulls into the driveway beside an unfamiliar car. She turns off the car once you’re in the garage, and she comes to your side as soon as you open the door to help you out. You don’t complain or argue because you’re suddenly exhausted, and you just barely remember to retrieve your dog from the backseat.

“Good evening, Mrs. Maximoff, Dr. Maximoff.”

You turn so quickly that your neck protests, but the sound of an unfamiliar voice immediately puts you on edge. Wanda turns much slower, and makes sure to keep Boone back when you notice the doctor she’d called to come look at you. You try not to sigh in defeat when you see a woman in a white coat holding a small black bag at her side. You don’t want to be rude, but you really just wanted to lie down on the couch for a minute before falling into bed.

“Dr. Blackwood. I hope we haven’t kept you waiting long. Please come in.”

As you are led inside, you see Bucky pull your car up beside the doctor’s. You want to talk to him now, but you have a feeling Wanda won’t let you, and it would also be rude to make the doctor that had already been waiting on you wait any longer.

You tamp down your urge to go sit on the couch, and instead head to one of the chairs at the dining room table. You sigh heavily as you sit down and watch as Wanda plays the role of a host and anxious partner at the same time.

Finally, after returning with a glass of water for you, despite your desire for something stronger, she sits down in the chair beside you and waits for the doctor to finish setting up. It’s only then that you notice her outfit. She hadn’t changed from what you’d seen from the picture she sent you hours ago. She was still wearing sweatpants, and a flannel shirt that you easily recognized. You reach out for her with a smile and tug at the hem as you meet your wife’s gaze.

“This is mine.”

Wanda just smiles at you before reaching up to wipe some of the dried blood from your cheek. Now that she can see you better, she immediately notices your bruised jaw and the dark angry marks around your neck. She regrets not shooting everyone when she realizes what some of the sounds she’d heard through the phone meant. She glances down at your bloodied shirt just as Dr. Blackwood finishes setting out everything she’ll need.

“Dr. Maximoff, would you mind removing your jacket so I can examine you?”

You tell her that she doesn’t have to call you that, but the look on her face although appropriately polite tells you she’s not going to drop the formality. Not in front of Wanda. You decide it’s not worth arguing about, and you shift slightly as Wanda reaches out to help you take off your coat. You smile appreciatively before you sit up and move to the edge of your chair.

The next few minutes are silent as the other doctor in the room listens to your heart and lungs and looks at your injuries. The scratch on your face isn’t serious, just annoying, and Wanda helps clean this one up as you hold up your shirt for the blonde to look at where you accidentally cut yourself. It’s deep enough to need a couple of stitches, and you try not to sigh in annoyance at the fact that you basically did this to yourself.

You’re trying to distract yourself from the sting of alcohol when you hear the garage door close. You look up just in time to hear the mudroom door open and Boone jump to his feet. There’s no growling though and Wanda doesn’t seem concerned so you aren’t either. You figure it’s Bucky or Steve, but when no one makes an appearance, you figure they’re waiting until you’re fixed up to discuss what happened. You listen to Boone pant for a bit before he comes back into the room to lie down on the rug in front of you. He’s able to watch you and the doctor from here, and you watch as he rolls onto his back with a yawn.

You focus on your dog and do your best to check for any injuries from a few feet away. You grimace a little when the first stich is put in and you try to focus on the feeling of your wife’s hand running up and down your back. You jump in surprise and then curse when Fletcher suddenly appears in front of you, and it takes all of your self-restraint not to curse her out. She just looks at you expectantly before flicking her tail in your face as she walks by you to get to Wanda.

“Do that again and I’m going to take you in for your annual visit early, Fletcher.”

Your wife’s cat just ignores you and Wanda shakes her head and does her best to ignore her cat so as not to encourage her bad behavior. Eventually the tabby gets bored and leaves, and luckily by this time you’re all stitched up.

“Those can come out in a couple of weeks. I’ll leave you something for the pain. It will help with your neck too. Other than a sore throat for a couple of days, there shouldn’t be any lasting, physical damage.”

You oddly appreciate the blonde’s precise wording and you just nod in response as you lower your shirt over the bandage. You see Bucky appear in the doorway and you smile before turning your attention back to your doctor. You can’t wait to get something to eat and then take some pain medication that will hopefully help you fall asleep.

“Thank you, Dr. Blackwood.”

The blonde nods before asking if you or Wanda have any questions. When you both shake your heads, she packs up and stands to leave. She half nods, half bows to Wanda and you can’t help but find it ridiculous. Bucky escorts the doctor out and Boone jumps to his feet when you stand up with a sigh.

You turn to your wife with an apologetic look before you reach for her hand and bring it to your lips.

“I’m sorry. I’m extremely rude. Thank you for saving my ass out there.”

Wanda can’t help but roll her eyes at you before she leans in to kiss your uninjured cheek. She doesn’t blame you for the delayed thanks. She figures you’re still a little rattled and just wanted to get you taken care of. She hates that you were hurt because of her, but she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t proud of you for holding your own. She’s just grateful that your kidnappers were relying on stealth and didn’t shoot you.

“Of course, detka. I’m always up for saving your ass.”

This time you roll your eyes and Wanda laughs as you mutter something under your breath. She simply watches as you greet your dog before kneeling so you can get a good look at him. She glances over your shoulder when Bucky reappears and she can’t help but smile when she realizes that he had taken the time to get a couple of stitches too.

She knew they had to talk about what happened tonight, and how she was going to respond. She had learned a long time ago that incidents like these were inevitable, and the best she could do was prepare everyone for them. Maybe you needed to train a little more when you were healed. She’d ask you about it later. For now, she just wanted a few minutes to ignore the sense of impending doom, and watch you play with your beloved dog.

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #silver springs drabble #silver springs #mob au

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inumakis-boo · 3 days

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May I have some dating Toge Inumaki headcanons? Both sfw and NSFW... If you're comfortable.

TOGE INUMAKI ♫₊˚.🎧 ✧💬

headcanons 𓍢ִ˖ hello and thank you for the requests! i am current rediting all of my posts, so if this looks a little different than when you first saw it, thats the reason why!

anyways, i hope all of you enjoy! and if course, NSFW will be tagged and is written for a female perspective.

safe for work headcanons

- would probably not notice each other the first time you meet, maybe an interested glance but it doesn't really hit until the second or third time that he really sees you

- probably asks for your number just so yall can talk better, and once you do, its an instant connection. he literally wouldnt be able to stop, staying up all night to text you

- texts you out of the blue, and although probably feels embarrassed to double text, he is just that interested in you

- would totally deliever a bag of goodies he bought at the store for you, and additionally maybe offer to make you a lunch to try before he makes it for everyone else

- you comment on one of his t-shirts he wears and he puts it in one of the goodie bags he buys you, doused in his cologne because he wants you to think of him

- would totally send annoying memes and tiktoks and bully you over text, also play 8-ball COMPETITIVELY cause he aint gonna lose to you (he doesnt even pity lose to you)

- shows up unannounced just to kiss you in the door frame of your dorm room as a goodnight and then leaves you there

- that is until you invite him over to your dorm at night and he brings post-it notes and teaches you his semi-bilingual language for easier understanding, and utterly loves you for it

- the talking stage would be him just pining over you cosntantly, writing it all down in journals or in his notes app

- after yall started dating, it is very much a no public affection mostly because he doesnt want anybody to be in your business. especially with his noisy ass friends

- but no matter what, he is going to hold your hand, especially when going on dates and walking around campus at night (would definitely talk u into sneaking out)

- he would be hesistant to kiss you even after yall became offical, probably go a few weeks before you just say it straight that you want him to kiss you and you dont even get it all out before hea pinning you to a door and giving you the best kiss of your life

- would absolutely use his speech on you so you cannot resist it when he tickles you or when you are beating him in a game

- he is not the sappiest guy, but if you start to get sappy over a movie or a sad book, he will rub your back and give you head-kisses to help you feel better

below is not safe for work content. mdni.

not safe for work headcanons

- you find out very quickly into the relationship that he cannot resist a challenge of any kind. therefore, using that to your advantage always works out

- challenging him through text to sneak out of his dorm will work, but ofc he wants a prize at the end (you are on your knees for the next hour)

- the benefit of his speech is that you don't feel any fatigue whatsoever during its use, so that makes it really easy to make your body endure while you deep-throat him over and over.

- it doesn't diminish the pleasure though; being told to stay still while he fondles your chest takes away nothing from the experience, and he knows how much you like having no choice.

- not that even if it was tiring, you wouldn't let him throat-fuck you, the noises he makes are heavenly for someone who can't speak straight, the struggle of watching him grip the bedframe and biting his lips so he doesn't utterly ruin you is SO worth a bruised throat.

- he might be nervous to use his speech on you the first time, but after you make sure that you can handle it, its becomes so much more confident in using it

- he loves making out with you, he loves making your lips red with all the biting, he wants to see them glossy and wet right before he puts his fingers in your mouth (you know where they are going next)

- sexting is so fun, yall thought it might be cringy, but its literally the best when he calls you with a command and he gets to listen to you whimper and moan as he jerks off to it, can be totally unexpected

- "Ride me."

- hand on your thigh when nobody can see, and his pinky is awfully close to your panties that it makes you nervous.

- ofc he can easily make you cum, but will he always let you? not without a cute little 'please' hes not. begging is fun, isnt it?

- lets be honest, the dick game is so good he don't even have to tell you to go to sleep after

- ofc he would definitely lay it down on you exactly how he described through text, and then clean you with special wipes he bought from the store because he aint a dickhead, duh.

I have so many more, especially for different situations, so lmk if you want more! Thank u for all the support as of recently!

bye pookies!

#sorry i love him ur honor #jujutsu kaisen #inumaki toge headcanons #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki smau #inumaki smut #inumaki headcanons #jujustsu kaisen x reader #inumaki toge #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk #jjk inumaki #jjk megumi #jujutsu itadori #jujutsu megumi #fushiguro megumi

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cottoncandyswisherz · 12 hours

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1-800-CHOKE-DAT-HOE

this is long for no fucking reason im sorry.

chris x dealer!oc

warnings: putting a stereotyping bitch in her place, swearing.

this day fucking sucks.

its no secret that tasia hated both of her jobs. but amazon was in a special place in her brain that held hatred that she specifically reserved for her father, rapists, and dentists.

but it paid the bills and kept the police off her ass. selling drugs was helping as well, but most of that income went to her college fund.

yes, she was 20 years old, and in college, and still adding to her college fund.

but it wasn't her fault. her parents didn't exactly do their job in the education department but she made good grades in high school and she got into college. she wanted to be able to say that everything that happened all meant something. that it was worth it.

that she was worth it.

so for now, she slaved away at amazon. slinging boxed into trucks with the dumbest species on the planet.

men.

"bro, earth is FLAT! why do you think the water from the ocean doesnt fall of the earth?"

she stopped listening right there. put in her airpods and blasted her "real nigga" playlist. everything was going smooth for about an hour. tasia was vibing to "catch a b" by maf teeski when the bitch from the front desk came up and tapped her on the shoulder with her bony ass finger.

"ms. edmond. you have a few boys waiting for you up at the front."

boys? who the fuck is at my-

tasia couldnt even finish her though when fake blondie started her usual shit. "i usually dont allow visitors during employees working hours. i told the gentlemen that your shift ends 5 minutes and to come back, but they were very... persistent about speaking to you immediately."

shawty is really tweaking over 5 minutes?

tasia rolled her eyes and began trudging to the front of the large building. because she was loading boxes in the back, her shift would end by the time she got up there anyway.

when she arrived, she was relieved to see chris, matt and nick literally twiddling their thumbs. when they saw the lanky girl walking up they got off the wall, almost in sync.

nick picked up a box the size of jupiter while chris fixed his hair and rolled up the sleeves of his blue hoodie.

seeing the box, made tasia remember her conversation with nick last night. he had to return some furniture.

"hellooo" nick said with a smile. the two had been texting a little bit for the week that had passed since the party.

"hey bookie." she gave a genuine smile, which surprised her, which is why it didnt last long. she looked at matt and chris gaving them a quick "hey".

"he gets a 'bookie' AND a smile and all we get is a 'hey'?" chris feigned hurt and pointed at his brothers with his jaw dropped,

this made tasia snort before replying with "i dont know you two bozos." followed by "but let me try again, for your benefit." she pretended to get into character, slapping a huge fake smile on her face. "O. M. G. hi guys! im just so happy to see you!" with that, her face fell and she asked if that was better.

"i think i like the 'hey' better..." matt muttered, with a face of confusion.

"i thought so." the girl chuckled and turned back to nick. "okay let me take this and meet you at the desk.

when they got to the desk she put in the information she needed to identify the purchase. "okay you have the card you used to pay for it right?"

"uuuh yes. hold on." nick search his wallet, eventually finding his card and handing it to his new friend.

when the transaction was finished, and nick got the confirmation text that his money had returned to his account he asked tasia when she was getting off.

"im actually off now. and i gotta hurry and get my stuff before i miss the next bus."

"bus?" nick questioned.

"yes, bus. yknow the big purple thing you get on to get from point a to point b?"

"i know what a fucking bus is. i just dont know why you're taking the bus when we have a car." nick rebuttled.

"because i live in compton and yall live 5 minutes from the hills?" what tasia was saying was a fact, but she said more like a question, mainly because she thought this was obvious.

"well come with us to do a few things and then we'll take you home." now anyone else would have jumped at the opportunity to get a free ride across town.

tasia was not like anyone else.

"why would you do that?"

"because i dont fuck with these two and i need someone else in the back seat with me."

"fair enough."

instagram pictures had been taken, happy ice had been eaten and legos had been bought.

now it was time for tasia to go back home.

"okay give me your phone so i can put my address in."

"okay but i have to stop by the house so i can get jaiyahs earrings." matt said, passing her his phone.

"...why are her earrings at your house?" tasia questioned with a quizzical look on her face.

"because she was hammered the other night and asked me to pick her up and take her home. she took her earrings off in the car and i kept them in my room." matt answered bluntly.

"its true. he asked me to come with him because he was nervous." chris cosigned.

"whatever. but if we're stopping i need to pee."

"thats fine." matt said.

"i know its fine. im just letting you know im gonna be using your bathroom."

when they arrived at the triplets house, tasia wasnt even surprised by the size of it. she knew they made good money. she didnt say anything other than ask where the bathroom was, which chris was happy to answer.

she did her business and found her way to the living room, where chris was going through a big box.

"whats that?" tasia asked.

"theyre hoodies for my brand." chris answer, handing her the sweatshirt.

she admired the blue hoodie, with white letting. it was soft. she could tell it was comfortable. so she did the first thing that came to her mind.

she put it on.

and chris damn near lost his fucking mind.

tasia, the girl who'd been haunting his frontal lobe to point of needing a lobotomy, was in his living room, in biker shorts and the hoodie that he designed. he wanted to have this moment forever.

he needed to have this moment forever.

"oh you have to let me take some pictures of you in it." he chuckled.

"absolutely not." tasia shook her head.

"come one pleeeaaase?" chris begged.

"i dont even have social media." she argued.

"then i dont have to tag you. even better."

"fine."

"YES!" chris shouted and pulled out his phone, placing her against the white wall and telling her to smile.

"do i look like the smiling type?" tasia asked.

"well at least pose." he rolled his eyes.

"how the fuck am i supposed to pose." she urged. "i dont know how to model."

"youre not modelling. youre taking pictures in a fire ass hoodie." he laughed and moved to position her in a way that would look good to show off his brand.

they continued this for about 5 minutes, him, positioning her body and taking pictures, her keeping the same neutral expression on her face.

in these 5 minutes the two individuals had realized some very important things.

tasia realized that if anyone was this close to her besides jaiye that she's try her best to remove a limb from their body. but not chris. she was allowing him into her bubble and she didnt even feel nervous about it. it felt natural. like he was supposed to be there.

chris realized that he never paid attention to the was a woman smelled until tasia. he realized she smelled like coco butter. not coco butter lotion but real coco butter. the kind that are in matts candles. he also realized that he'd shoot layla in the face for a chance to see tasia wear his brand again.

speak of the devil and she shall come.

"chrissy?" he heard her dreadful voice call out the nickname that only his mother and grandmothers were allowed to call him.

while chris was trying not to vomit, tasia was holding back a laugh at the sound of his nickname. "chrissy?" she asked.

"dont even think about it." he put a finger in her face and turned to the entrance of the living room, where layla was walking in.

emphasis on was.

she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a girl she didnt recognize so close to chris.

"whos this?" layla asked, pointing at tasia.

"oh thats tasia. shes nicks friend. i was just show-" he was cut off by layla asking

"she cant talk or something?"

tasias eyebrows rose to the tippy-top of her head as she whipped her head in chris' direction, giving him the chance to check her before she does.

"shut up layla. she doesnt owe you a response because you asked me who she was."

"shut up?" layla feigned hurt. "you shut told me to shut up in from of whoever she is?"

taking a step towards 'layla' tasia started with "girl-" but was cut off by chris grabbing her elbow.

"tasia. please." he pleaded with her.

it was at this time that nick and matt returned from upstairs and froze at the situation before them. they had two options.

help defuse the situation and take tasia home as quckly as possible, leaving chris to deal with layla.

2. sit back and watch this funny ass shit unfold.

obviously they chose option 2 and skirted around the three. this shit looked like a standoff from a western movie.

only more anticipating.

"layla i just told you her name. i told you to come at 6. its 4:30. why the fuck are you in my house, and how'd you get in?" chris asked, trying to distract her from tasia, who didnt do a single thing wrong.

"i was coming to make you dinner. i wanted to surprise you. but i was the one surprised when i come in here and see you all up on inmate 23-" layla was cut off by tasia slapping the fuck out of her then grabbing her neck in both hands, restricting laylas airflow.

"oh shit!" nick and matt said at the same time.

"now because im cool with your dude, im not gonna fuck you up. but imma let you know right fucking now that if you ever address me as anything other than my fucking name, i wont let it slide." tasia said, then released laylas throat.

layla coughed and caught her breath, then proceeded to do what she does best. annoy the fuck out people. "who the fuck do you think you are bi-"

another slap. "you're not a quick learner are you?" tasia teased and punched layla in the jaw so hard that she fell over, still clutching her face.

"chris, get your lap dog under control before i catch a case." she motioned towards the girl on the floor. "nick, get me something frozen for my hand. and matt, did you get jaiyes earrings?" tasia asked, turning to where the two boys had been sitting on the couch.

they were zoned in on chris, trying to console and scold layla, who was starting to get hysterical on the floor. their jaws were an inch away from the ground and their eyes were bugging out of their head.

"HELLO?" tasia yelled, snapping them back into reality. nick got up and scurried to the freezer, while matt got up and retrieved the previously mentioned earrings from his pocket showing her that he had competed the task they'd come here for in the first place.

"great. now take me back to the fucking hood." tasia ordered.

tasia was now in bed, having showered, wrapped up her hair, and cleaned her piercings.

she was reading her book in a state of peace, not even thinking about the events that took place earlier.

shit like that didn't even phase her anymore. she was black with a face tat and multiple piercings and she went to a pwi. she dealt with judgment every day of her life.

she didnt hit chris' girlfriend because she was the first person to ever disrespect her. she hit her because she couldn't hit the white boys who laughed when she walked into her ethical law class. or any class that she walked into on her college campus.

the situation may have been small but the principle was big as shit.

tasia was pulled out of her blissful book when she heard her phone ring. it was a facetime from number she didn't recognize.

nonetheless, she knew jaiye was out and wasnt declining any phone calls until her bestie was home. so she answered.

only to be met with chris' face.

"chris? how'd you get my number?"

"nick." chris' eyes were focused on her and she hated that she like it.

"oh."

"yeah." chris said, awkwardly scratching his chin. "look i dont mean to bother you. its just i wanted to say sorry for layla and that i put you in that position."

"its chill." tasia shrugged, closing her book and setting it to the side. "you wanted your pictures. did you at least get any good ones?"

"yeah theyre great." chris replied with a goofy smile..

"you sure? i wouldn't wanna fuck up your hoodie."

"tasia. trust me when i say that you could make a burlap sack look good." chris replied. the smile was gone and he was now dead serious. "but i gotta go, nick wants to watch drag race. but im gonna send you some of the pictured okay?" he said, getting up.

"okay." tasia smiled, which shocked her, causing her to hang up without saying bye, something she hated doing.

not even 20 seconds later she phone dinged again, showing that chris has sent the pictured to her, like he said he would.

to say tasia was shocked by what she saw on the screen would be an understatement.

(pretend its the lue fresh love hoodie pls and thx, management)

chris had made her look so pretty. and the way she wasn't even trying made her even more surprised.

that night, she fell asleep thinking about those pictures.

how much she enjoyed taking them, despite her hatred for pictures of herself. how much she enjoyed chris being so close. how beautiful she looked while in her resting face.

ho. lee. fuck.

she like chris.

niyah speaks💗

okay last one! im boutta knock tf out because its 4 am. comment if you wanna be on the taglist.

remember that if no one loves you, mommy loves you (and my mommy i mean me.)

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic

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enchantingforestfeeder · 2 days

Note

One thing I can’t stop thinking about is meeting a feeder at a bar and going to a hotel room with them where they can stuff me with as many burgers and fries as possible and then fuck me into the bed >.< im new to being a feedee too so it’d be so hot for dominant feeder to take me to bed and whisper dirty fantasies and encouragements while they explore my limits (of my sex drive and my belly🥰)

"Are you doing okay over here? Can I get you another drink?" the bartender says to you. It didn't really register to you because you were too busy looking around the room for your date. He was an hour late and hadn't responded to your text messages asking where he was.

"Yeah, I think I just got stood up." This was the first time you tried to go on a date since your big break up last year, so this cut extra deep. You even pulled you nicest outfit, even though it fit a little more snug than you remembered. Perhaps you had put on a few pounds since your breakup.

"Don't worry, I have just the thing for you." They walk away and start making you a drink. In a moment, they come back with a tropical looking drink with a pineapple fronds sticking out the top and a cherry. "Here you go, this is on the house and I ordered you a dessert from the kitchen, on me."

"Oh my God, that's so nice. You didn't have to do all that."

"It was my pleasure. Someone as cute as you are should never be stood up. It truly was their loss." They say and flash you a smile. You feel your face start to blush and you get the light flutter of butterflies in your stomach. You know bartenders will flirt sometimes to get better tips but for some reason you think they are being serious. Maybe this is just how bartenders work at these fancy hotel bars.

You take a sip of the drink. It's a combination of sweet, sour, and slightly spicy that makes you feel cozy and comfortable. In fact it's so easy to drink that by the time your dessert arrives, you hadn't even noticed that you drank the whole thing. The dessert is a fudge sunday piled high with ice cream, chocolate, and nuts. It looks delicious but monstrous. You don't know how you're going to finish this whole thing.

The bar is slow tonight so you two have a lot of time to talk. They tell you how they moved here a couple of months ago and were still getting adjusted to city life. You tell them about your job that you just got a new promotion for and how you've been trying to grow a houseplant but no matter what you do they keep dying. All the while, you're picking at your dessert and drinking these tasty drinks that they keep bringing you.

You're starting to feel pretty buzzed and your belly is so tight with all the sugar sweets. You look down and notice the buttons on your shirt are starting to strain and you waistband is digging into your now softer sides. How long had it been since you had this much fun talking to someone?

"Well, it's getting to be that time. Anything I can get you for last call?" They told you. This broke you out of your trance.

"Of course, they are here to work. Nobody would actually want to flirt with you and get to know you." You think to yourself. You were starting to spiral, but you were brought back by a simple question.

"Are you staying here at the hotel? If not, I get a free room. Maybe you could stay the night with me,"

You weren't crazy, they actually did like you. Maybe it was the alcohol but your face got super flushed and your heart started racing.

"Y-yes! I would like that very much."

"Well, here is the room key. I'm going to order some room service for after my shift so help yourself to whatever you like when it gets there. I'll be about 30 minutes to an hour until I'm done closing the bar. I'll see you then," they say and wink at you.

After getting a little lost in the maze of corridors that make up the hotel, you make your way to the room. It was a modest room but with how much your head was spinning from the booze, a comfy place to rest was appreciated. Especially with how tight your clothes were, you needed some release. As you tried to unbutton the strained buttons on your shirt, you accidentally popped a few of the off. Normally you would be mortified but it felt so good to have your belly freed from its prison of thread and buttons.

Beads of sweat were starting to pool on your forehead from walking are the hotel. “It must be the alcohol, I’m not that out of shape yet.” Yet? Were you planning on getting that out of shape? Your contemplation was cut short by a knock at the door. “Room service, may I come in?”

“One second,” you called back, desperately trying to cover your exposed gut. You find the bathrobe hanging by the bathroom door. It looks silly considering you’re still wearing your pants and shoes but it gets the job done.

“Hello, please come in.” You say and usher them in. They put an order of burger and fries on the tiny table, you thank them and they leave, but not before casting you an odd glance.

You check the time. The bartender shouldn’t be done closing the bar yet. “Did they order this for me? They must have.” Your head was spinning and your heart was starting to race. “They want you to eat. That’s why they gave you so much free stuff. You should eat for them, it would be so hot if you did.” Your belly still felt full from the dessert but it didn’t matter. You dug in.

The burger was huge, but it was delicious. The melted cheese pair so well with juicy burger and the crunch of the veggies was a nice texture. The fries were hot and crisp. You kept eating in a blissful daze. At some point you unbuttoned your pants to give your belly more room. You were in such a fugue state that you didn’t notice the juices from the burger dripping down your face and into your nicest shirt. You were about halfway done with hen there was another knock at the door followed by the sound of the keycard being inserted.

“Hey, I closed up a little early. I grabbed a couple beers from downstairs for us to share.” They stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw the state of you: Belly exposed, stuffed to the brim with food, and greasy juices dripping from your chin. They chuckled, “that was my dinner you know.”

“Oh God,” you thought to yourself. You could feel your face burning hot with embarrassment. “Of course, it’s their dinner. Why would I assume that they wanted me to eat more? That’s crazy!”

“But, it was also a test,” they said as they pulled up a chair next to you. After pulling a couple cans of beer from the six pack, they crack one open and bring it to your lips. Without thinking, you drink it down. It’s painful how the bubbling beverage pushes your stomach out even further. Before you know it, then can is empty. You try to stifle burps in between heavy gasps for air but are unsuccessful. They gently rub your belly to release some of the pressure. “I’m so happy I was right about you. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”

They pick up what’s left of the burger and hold it up to your face. You have to lean back in the chair to make more room in your gut. It smells so rich and greasy it’s sickening, but you want it anyways. You shouldn’t, and yet, you’ve never wanted anything more.

#wg text #feeding kink #wg fiction #wg encouragement #wg fantasy #trans feedist #gaining weight on purpose #soft feedism

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ihrthoney · 2 days

Text

love isn’t enough

pairing: club owner ran haitani x f!reader

warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort

word count: 1.5k

an: first post being back on tumblr! this is a remake of my old work from my old blog!

Ignorance truly is bliss…

but only if you’re stupid.

It was obvious, the signs were as clear as day. Although, love was always so blinding. While you were watching the clouds and enjoying the summer breeze, his eyes followed the birds flying in the other direction.

There weren’t any lipstick stains on his clothes nor did he stay out later than normal. If there was a faint scent of perfume following him as he walked towards the shower, you brushed it off. Clubs are always full of people, some scents are just stronger than most.

That’s what you would've continued telling yourself had it not been a smell you learned to get used to. Every night that he came home from work, he smelled vaguely of that same perfume. It could be a regular or a worker who walks past him throughout the night.

You weren’t stupid. As much as you wished you were, you weren’t.

The perfume wasn’t the only thing you caught on to. Unfortunately, it took weeks for the smell to become something you’ve recognized or rather, something you chose to accept.

Just last week, Ran was off and you guys decided to spend the day in bed and binging shows. That night, you surprised Ran by renting a movie he wanted to see for a while but missed because of work. During the most interesting part, he got a call and usually, he ignored the noise but this time he didn’t hesitate to grab his phone and leave the room.

You couldn’t remember the last time a work call lasted two hours. While the contact name on the screen said Rindou, you knew better than to believe it.

He clearly knew how to cover his tracks, his behavior didn’t change, not drastically anyway. His phone didn’t suddenly have a password nor did he try to hide who he was texting. Just like you, he wasn’t an idiot. But as time went on, he must’ve mistook you for one.

You and Ran had been dating since you guys were 18. There’s nothing you don’t know about him, you know him better than yourself sometimes. Any changes in his behavior you notice immediately, he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was.

Despite everything pointing to the tragic truth that Ran was having an affair, you were waiting for him to admit it. It felt unfair to break it off and be left uneven while he was already filling the void.

Years of your life had been devoted to him, you supported him with everything you could give. From cleaning his wounds after gang fights to watching his (and his brothers’) club succeed.

Would there have been a hole in his heart if you left? When did he stop loving you? Why couldn’t he have just broken it off?

Endless questions were filling your head. It’s been about 3 months since you noticed the perfume. The denial gets harder to run from, reality starts to slowly consume you.

You wouldn’t allow yourself to get caught up in it now, so instead of wallowing away in the empty house you got dressed and ventured into town.

Of course, it didn’t help in the slightest; everything reminded you of Ran, and the realization that your relationship was coming to an end hurt so much. You walk the streets alone and are reminded of the night of your first date. Hands intertwined, leaning on his shoulder and laughing about something you could no longer remember, you stared at him like he just offered you the world.

“You’re nothing like they say Ran Haitani.” You laughed, you guys are hand in hand, your apartment just a few blocks down.

“What? Am I even more handsome in person?” He says smugly, only half joking.

At that comment, you drop his hand, “Never mind, you’re exactly as they said.” you jokingly say.

“Nah, I’m even better.” Ran remarks. Using your linked hands, he pulls you both to a stop.

He looks at you for a little bit, the sound of cars faint in the background, and the moonlight softly reflects on his face, “You are so beautiful.”

His voice was so soft, so gentle. As flustered as you were at the compliment, you couldn’t pull your eyes from his.

“I had a really good time with you tonight, yn.” His hand parts from yours and softly cradles your face.

“May I?” At that moment, you would’ve given him anything he could’ve possibly wanted.

You nod in response and he wastes no time in connecting your lips.

You were so caught up in the memory that you didn’t see the person in front of you. The woman slightly stumbles at your shoulders making contact. You open your mouth, apology at the tip of your tongue when you notice a man next to her.

Suddenly, the world went quiet. The coffee shop you had entered was nothing but a blur as your vision zones onto the man holding the woman’s waist.

His eyes widen at the sight of you. He was supposed to be at work.

Before an excuse could even form, you turned around and walked straight back home, not daring to look back.

He was having an affair. There wasn’t enough time to analyze the woman he was with, your mind was too busy swallowing the confirmed suspicions.

You knew he was cheating, but a small part of you had foolishly clung to the hope that it was just a misunderstanding. Several emotions coursed through your body at once, millions of thoughts raced through your head. Yet, you couldn’t feel a thing.

So many scenarios played out in your head that you thought you would feel angrier, burn his clothes, and trash the house. But, you couldn’t move a single limb. Instead, you sat quietly on the couch, the apartment dark and even emptier than you left it despite nothing being touched.

There’s a soft click that brings you out of your daze. You hear him take off his shoes and walk towards the living room. With every step, your heartbeat starts to quicken.

The dread makes your stomach sink, suddenly you feel nauseous. You’re scared, you’re so fucking scared, this wasn’t supposed to be the end. Years of your life will be nothing but a memory and he’ll be someone you have to remember longer than you’ve known.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Ran sitting on a chair at the dining table.

Without looking at him, you speak. “You’re a coward.”

There was so much you wanted to say, even more to ask, but the only emotion you could feel was anger.

“I know.” He said it so quietly, as if speaking any louder would shatter the tension in the air.

You waited to see if he would say more, but he didn’t. The silence was deafening as if the apartment was absent of any soul.

Swallowing your pride, you spoke up again, “Why didn’t you just break up with me.”

Ran answered honestly, “I don’t know.”

“I deserve better than an “I don’t know”, Ran.” You argued, gaze moving from the tv screen.

For the first time in months, you see him. This wasn’t the man you fell in love with, but rather the shell of him.

Cruelly, he says, “You deserve everything.”

The tears were starting to burn your eyes, he didn’t deserve your tears, “Don’t, Ran.”

“There’s nothing that I could say that’ll make any of this better. I cheated on you.”

The tension in the air snapped, and your tears started to spill over despite fighting to hold them back. You knew; you saw it with your own eyes, but to hear him actually admit it hurt that much more. There’s no coming back from this, the man you love no longer loves you.

“How long?” The eye contact between you two never falters.

“Four months.”

He had been out with another woman for four months. It makes you sick to know he still came back home. You can’t help that sob that chokes out, “Why Ran?”

Ran stands up at the sound of you crying, but you move from the couch and step deeper into the living room.

“I didn’t want to live without you.” He admits.

At this point you’re sobbing, “That’s so fucking stupid!”

“I don’t love you anymore, yn. But I didn’t know how to let you go. You’ve been in my life since we were 18. I doubt we could’ve been friends-” You interrupt him.

“That’s so unfair! You don’t get to make that choice for me! Maybe you’re right, we probably wouldn’t have been able to be friends after everything but cheating was your next option?” He’s silent at that.

The silence doesn’t last long though, “Get out, Ran.”

There’s so much you want to know, though, your heart wouldn’t be able to handle any more pain.

Without another word, he turns and walks to the door, taking half of your heart with him.

#ᝰ honeywrites #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x yn #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x you #ran haitani x y/n #tokyo revengers angst #angst no comfort

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moondustpugh · 1 day

Text

Midnight Rain

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: The glitz and glamour of Hollywood isn't always what it seems. When Joe had started working with you in a movie, he had started wondering as to why you, the famous Hollywood starlet, has been acting out lately. Was there some dark secret behind all the angry spoiled façade? And why was he so fascinated about it?

Author's Note: This is the end of it! :) I'm debating whether to come back to this or not. We'll see... You guys let me know. But for now, I will see you all in "The Hate Formula." That one will have ten parts and probably will take up most of the summer. So, in that note, I'm asking for some Autumn/Winter prompts/ideas in my box if you want to request please! Thank you for the support of this fic, and I'll see you all soon!

Wordcount: 2.9K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

There was just something about Joe that you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. One month since that incident in Paris, and you haven’t seen your team since you fired them. One month since you haven’t heard from Skyler or any of them. The rumors had died down, but it was still out there. You couldn’t seem to escape the paparazzi outside your house whenever you needed to go out and grab something at the store. You couldn’t seem to escape the horrible articles and tweets that everyone would say about you.

“You should delete those apps.” Joe had suggested on FaceTime one night. “It will just mess with your brain even more.”

Joe had been there for you since Paris. He had been FaceTiming you almost every night even when he was busy filming in London. Even when he finished long hours on set, he still didn’t miss to even just send a text message to you. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more between the two of you. You knew that Joe had said that he wanted to be friends but how come it felt like there was something more? How come it felt like you knew there was something there, but you just weren’t sure if Joe felt the same too. Maybe he really wanted to be just friends. That was all.

“I have been thinking about what to do with this career.” You told Joe, ignoring the suggestion that he just told you.

“Oh, yeah?” Joe smiled, raising his brow.

His curly hair was all disheveled. He just woke up, and he had FaceTimed you right away. He was still in his bed, and he looked adorable looking like that in the morning.

“Whatever you decide, I will support you, especially if it helps you mentally.” Joe added.

You gave him a warm smile and stared at him for a moment through the screen. Your mind recalled the little scenario that happened the next morning back in Paris last month. You knew you shouldn’t be overthinking it, but what if you were right? What if your emotions weren’t betraying you this time?

Alex had been calling Joe non-stop all night, but he had ignored it because he knew he was going to get an earful from him after ditching the movie premiere. He could handle that tomorrow morning when he was ready to face Alex. When morning came, Joe had found himself awake early in the morning. The sun was slowly rising, and he found you asleep peacefully next to him. He couldn’t help but stare at you, studying your facial features.

Your long lashes, the sun reflecting through the window and reflecting through your soft butterfly skin. The way you looked so peaceful when you were asleep. Joe couldn’t help but gently grazed his fingers on your cheek.

Beautiful. He thought.

Stirring in your sleep, you carefully fluttered your eyes open and gazed up at Joe, who was looking down at you with a smile. You rubbed the sleep in your eyes as you gave him a sleepy smile.

“Hi.” You whispered.

“Hi.” Joe smiled, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

He has never seen you like this. He kept thinking how you looked so different without the façade that you have put up. He kept thinking how you looked so relaxed and happier without it.

“I don’t think I have woken up this peaceful in a long time.” You murmured, sitting up on the bed.

Joe caressed your back softly and smiled, “As much as I love to stay, I have to go. Alex has been looking for me.”

You nodded your head in understanding as Joe slid himself off the bed. Following right behind him and towards the door, you gently touched his arm, making him pause in his tracks.

“I just want to say thank you for yesterday and for… staying.” You said.

Joe smiled, brushing a strand of hair and tucking it in behind your ear. “I’m your friend, remember?”

Seeing the twinkle in your eyes, Joe embraced you tightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as he planted a soft kiss on your temple. Pulling away from the hug, you found your face just inches away from his. His chocolate button eyes staring deeply into yours and suddenly, you could feel something shift between the both of you.

Joe’s chest was heaving as he breathed heavily, and your heart was racing a million miles per hour. You watched as Joe closed his eyes, his nose gently grazing over yours. Hitching a breath, you carefully

closed your eyes, your fingers gently running down his cheek.

“Joe…” You whispered.

He didn’t say anything as his lips gently grazed over yours. A soft gasp escaped from you and before you could press your lips against his, you were interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. Smiling softly, you pulled away and cleared your throat. You could see the pink that flushed in Joe’s cheeks as he reached for his phone in his back pocket.

“They’re looking for you.” You said, looking down on the floor, hiding the blush that was slowly creeping up on your face.

A shy smile tugged on Joe’s lips, “Yeah, I have to go. Call me if you ever need anything, okay?”

You nodded your head and walked him out the door. That was the last time you physically saw Joe. Ever since then, you two have been FaceTiming or texting each other. That moment was never brought up in your conversation, so you told yourself that it was nothing. However, the soft graze of his lips still lingered on your lips, and your mind kept recalling what could have happened if his phone didn’t ring that day. You kept asking yourself if it was just in the moment or maybe, there really was something.

Shaking out the memories from your mind, you focused your eyes on the road as you drove towards the studio. You had called an important meeting with your team. You felt the knot formed in your stomach as you arrived closer to your destination. You haven’t seen them or haven’t heard from them in a month, and you didn’t know what their reactions would be the moment you would walk into that room.

But you have made your decision.

This has been in your mind for a long time now and this time, you were going to go through with it. No more backing out or having second thoughts. This was what you have been wanting. This was what you needed right now. Swallowing all the guilt and different emotions that were caught in your throat, you arrived at the studio with your head held up high.

For some reason, the thought of Joe was making you braver right now.

Walking down the hall, you exhaled a sharp breath before entering one of the conference rooms. Inside, your whole team were chatting amongst each other and as soon as you walked in, the whole room turned eerily quiet. All their eyes were on you as you froze by the doorway for a moment. Your eyes studied each of their faces and then, Skyler’s presence at the back of the room caught your eyes.

She looked disappointed and angry.

“What’s all this about?” Skyler asked, her voice was cold.

You could tell she was still pissed over what you pulled back in Paris and usually, you would feel guilty over it but at this moment, you didn’t care about what she felt. Walking towards the front of the room, you could feel everyone’s eyes following you.

Exhaling another sharp breath, you said, “This isn’t going to take long. Thank you all for coming.”

Your eyes kept studying everyone’s reactions as you continued and said, “First, I want to apologize for how I have been acting this last year or so. I’ve been going through some things, and I lashed it all out on you.”

Everyone in the room was silent, and the only thing that you could hear was your heart pounding in your chest. It was pounding so hard that it was drumming in your ears, and you could barely hear your voice. Taking a deep breath, you looked down on the floor for a moment to collect yourself before holding your head up high in front of everyone.

“I’m sorry for throwing things at you back in Paris and most certainly, for firing you all in anger. My actions the last couple years have been nothing but horrible, and I’m sorry for that.”

Cameron finally interrupted the eerie silence in the room by clearing his throat. He slowly raised his hand up like he was a student in a classroom, trying not to interrupt the teacher. You shifted your eyes at him and nodded your head, giving him permission to speak.

“So… are we not fired then?” He asked.

You smiled softly at Cameron’s harmless question. “I wish I could say that but the decision I have made unfortunately requires you all to look for another job.”

Murmurs filled the room as everyone turned to each other. They all exchanged worried looks as Skyler stepped forward, her eyes only to you. She looked pissed, but you expected that from her already.

“What are you talking about?” Skyler snapped.

Your eyes shifted towards her as the room suddenly died down.

“I’m quitting acting.” You replied.

Everyone in the room gasped softly as Skyler barked out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. There was a playful smile on her face as she took another step towards you, her eyes glaring at you.

“You care too much about your career to be quitting acting.” Skyler argued.

You shook your head, your expression suddenly turned into a soft one. A small smile appeared on your face.

“No, I don’t.” You answered. “Actually, I haven’t cared about this for a long time. I need to be on my own for a while. Figure out what I want. Get help.”

Skyler scoffed. You could tell she was just done with you, but you have seen that expression on her face for a while now. You knew she only had been tolerating you, and you now realized that she wasn’t a good friend. She never was your friend. At the end of the day, Skyler only cared about herself and her career.

“I’ve been trying to save your career and what happens then when you decide to come back, hm? We’re not all going to be here just waiting for you.”

Looking around the room, you were surprised at how calm you were. You were surprised that you weren’t scared at this moment. You didn’t know what was going to happen in the future, and Skyler was right. Not everyone in this room would be just waiting around for you but for some reason, the unknown was making you calm. It was something that made you ecstatic because for the first time, you weren’t told what to do.

You could do anything you wanted to.

Turning back to Skyler, you said, “Honestly, Skyler, if I decided to go back, I wouldn’t hire you back.”

You saw the horrified look on Skyler’s face as soon as those words escaped your mouth. She took a small step back, her eyes filled with hurt, disappointed and offended.

“You will regret this.” Skyler’s voice was almost a whisper.

Your eyes stared deep into hers. Your eyes were full of hurt and disappointment.

“No, actually, I regretted the fact that I believed your lies and thought I could trust you.” You retorted back.

Skyler was silent as soon as you said those words. You saw her swallow all her emotions, her face all flushed as everyone else murmured to each other. Looking back at everyone else, you gave them a small thankful smile.

“Thank you again, and I’m truly sorry for everything.” You said.

Right before you could walk out the door, you glanced over to Skyler one more time before completely walking out of the room. You let your feet lead you quickly down the hall and out the double doors of the studio, air catching your lungs as soon as you walked out. You breathed deeply, gazing up at the blue sky, the sun beaming down your face.

You felt freedom greeted you as you closed your eyes for a moment and inhaled the Spring air. You didn’t feel anything but relief as you walked back towards your car. You couldn’t help but smile at yourself. You couldn’t help but feel proud for finally saying what you feel and for finally choosing the happiness that you deserve.

The freedom that you deserved.

“Oh, c’mon. That’s mad.” Joe shook his head in frustration as he watched one of his shows on the television.

He had finally found time to do laundry and catch up on his shows. As he was folding his clothes, he shook his head at the sudden revelation on the television. He had been busy filming, and he finally had a couple of days of free time to do the things he needed to do around his place.

Putting away the last of his clothes in the closet, he glanced towards the window and saw that it was starting to pour again. Sighing, he made his way to the kitchen to make himself some soup. It was supposed to be almost Summer, but the weather in London had been gloomy and rainy. It wasn’t like that wasn't new anymore. He just missed the sun lately.

His thoughts were interrupted on the sudden knock on his door. Glancing at the clock, Joe knitted his brows and wondered who was knocking at his door at this hour. It was late at night, and it was pouring outside. Making his way to the front door, he swung the door open and found you standing in front of him.

“Hi.” You gave him a smile.

Your raincoat was soaking wet, and you were holding an umbrella with your luggage next to you. Immediately, Joe grabbed your luggage and pulled you inside before the rain could make you any more wet. His eyes widened, blinking and processing that you were actually here.

“Wh…What are you doing here?” Joe asked, confused and shocked.

“I um…” You cleared your throat, took your raincoat off and hung it by the door. “I quit. I talked to them yesterday.”

Joe was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that you were standing right in front of him.

At this hour.

In this weather.

“H…How do you feel?” Joe asked.

“Like I could do anything I want without anyone stopping me.” You smiled, running your fingers through your wet hair.

Joe suppressed a chuckle as he took a step forward to you, his brows still furrowed.

“And you decided to come to London?”

Exhaling a sharp breath, you gazed up at him. Yes, you felt relieved and free from the industry that has been bringing you down for the last couple years. Though, there was one more question in your head that still needed to be answered. There was one more thing that you wanted to know before you could finally move forward.

“Actually…” You looked down at your feet for a moment, a shy smile plastered on your face. “There’s one more thing I actually had to do here in London.”

Joe saw the look in your eyes, and he knew exactly what you were doing here. He knew exactly why you had flown to London and was at his front step at this god awful hour in this god awful weather. Taking a step forward, Joe slid his arm around your waist, his index finger on your chin, lifting up your head. Your eyes caught his brown eyes sparkling as he smiled at you lovingly.

“Oh? What’s that?” Joe asked, a playful smile tugging on his lips.

“This.” You murmured before pressing your lips against his.

Smiling through the kiss, Joe pulled your body against his, his fingers running through your wet hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply and letting yourself savor this moment. Parting from the kiss after a few moments, the both of you panted as Joe pressed his forehead against yours.

You grinned happily and said, “I don’t wanna be just friends.”

Joe grinned widely, setting a hand on your cheek and caressing it softly.

“Good, because I don’t either.”

You laughed softly as you pressed your lips against his again. Joe smiled through the kiss as he pulled you close in his arms and curled his fingers on the back of your head, kissing you lovingly and tenderly. You didn’t know what was going to happen next. You knew everything was unknown, and you knew that you eventually had to face the things from your past.

However, you also knew that Joe would be with you every step of the way. He would be there to accept you and understand you through your lightest and darkest days.

Parting from the kiss, Joe cupped your face between his hands and kissed your forehead so softly. You knew there were still so many challenges that you both will face but right now, all you wanted was to blissfully enjoy what you and Joe have.

Just blissfully enjoy this newfound freedom and love that you have.

The End.

*********

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charlidos · 2 days

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THE CHRONICLES OF THE CUNTYBAGO

I love the lore of the Fellowship, I can't get enough of it. And it's really turned into a kind of myth, hasn't it? The stories have been established, from being told again and again. Regardless if it's not the whole truth, or even not true at all. The lore has a life of its own. And it changes, depedning on who's talking, and over time.

The lore of the (inappropriately named) Cuntybago is a favourite; that famed make-up trailer bus where Orlando spent so much time with Viggo (hours and hours for years and years if you listen to Orlando) absorbing everything Viggo did.

So here's the Ultimate (very long) Cuntybago Post.

The Cuntybago is apparently where all the after-work parties happened. Most of what actually happened on it is still secret, private events not to be shared; after hours, after some wine/whisky drinking. What kind of special stuff was in the drawers? What did they really smoke? And, most intriguingly, who exactly was left onboard when everyone were ordered to get out... (Erm, V&O, perhaps?)I'm sure there are many more photos from the bus. Like a photo of Viggo & Orlando - which has yet to be seen. Oh, to have been a fly on that wall!

(A clip from the last day of the reshoots, in 2003. Because it's the time the bus has been talked about the most. Even if I'm unsure if this is the actual Cuntybago or not. Since it doesn't look green...)

Mortensen and Orlando Bloom spent much of their off-time on a green bus they named the "Cunty-Bago." Instead of the standard luxury lodging demanded by most stars on set, Viggo and co-star Orlando Bloom shared a converted bus while filming Rings. Viggo stocked the bus with a wine cellar and wallpapered the inside with candid behind-the-scenes photos. A source on the set said the bus was the site of frequent cast parties, with the motto, "Everyone is welcome, but when it's time to go, get out!" Indeed, they formed a club — The Cunty-Bago Club. [Viggo, Sean and Orlando] shared a make-up Winnebago, and through hours of beard and pointy-ear application formulated the rules of their society — most of which boil down to getting gossip and posting it on. [on what? I think the text is cut?]

There are very few quotes from Viggo. If you read his old interviews about life on set it sounds like he mostly worked 6 days a week, 14 hours a day. And in his free time, he went camping and fishing by himself and just drove around to get some me-time. That's it. It all sounds like mostly work and no play for Viggo. Cementing this image of him being ever serene, wise and a hard working method actor who never stopped being Aragorn. But then, we have the stories of this bus, which shows his wilder side...

(Viggo in ponytails, with a glass of wine and banana, in front of that mirror covered in photographs. They both took a lot of photos on set, so I guess a bunch of those photos are Orlando's.)

All Viggo's said is this:

"It was a crazy small bus." "Everything had cunt. It was 'cunt this' and 'cunt that'. We had a cuntmas tree, and we had cuntmas angels."

(Orlando on the makeup bus. )

Orlando has mostly mentioned the bus in passing, as he loves on Viggo, his great hero. And in his words, it always sounds like it was just the two of them... (when in fact it was from time to time also shared with Sean B, Bernard and Liv - but only Viggo & Orlando were there the whole time).

[Me and Viggo would] sit next to each other for a couple or hours each morning in a make-up truck. You get to know someone that way, more than by being in scenes with them. I used to sit next to him on the make-up bus, and find myself just staring at him while he was having his make-up done and drawing in his book or writing his notes. I would find myself fascinated. When I went back for re-shoots, I was on my own and he wasn't sitting there, and I suddenly was sitting in the makeup bus that we'd been driving around in for 18 months in New Zealand and got really emotional and felt that it was kind of weird to be there without him there and sort of reflected on all of the happy conversations and chats and glasses of wine and talks that we would have at the end of the day or whatever. He really had a huge impact on my life as an actor.

But he did say a few specific things too:

"Ahhh yes, the bus. It was mine, all mine. It was my precious." Bloom christened the bus the "C-word" when the makeup artist was fuming about someone and asked Bloom's advice. "You should kick him in the cunt and tell him to fuck off!" Viggo just lost it for half an hour. He kept saying, 'What did you say?' [The bus] became all about "the word. We took that word and took all of its power away. We made it the most loving word in the world. If you were a true cunt, you were the most amazing person in the world. It was a very free-spirited bus. It came about because me and Viggo kept being moved around, and we ended up on this bus one day. And the actors were fed up and we said, "This is it. This is our home and we are not moving. If they come, tell them to go away."

And finally from Orlando's IG in 2019 (obviously, to this day, a very important part of his life):

Our fondly named makeup bus, christened by Noreen my makeup artist and Viggo Mortensen, was, and remains in my heart and memory the most female and male empowered, joyful, disreputable and yet totally respectful place of work and creativity ever. Hours spent in the the makeup chair to apply ear’s and wigs and contacts." (They can't even agree who named it, Noreen never got any credit back then...)

(From the reshoots in 2003, Viggo gives Orlando some love and points out the photo message from Orlando on the mirror. But I want to know, who put up the pic of O with Brad Pitt? From this clip.)

The comments from everyone else in the cast about life on the Cuntybago are actually more enlightening. The rowdy gang reveal another side of life on set and of Viggo: as a drinking, partying prankster who loves crude language. It's definitely part of the fascination with Viggo. He's never one to talk about these things himself.

(I think they're wearing the special cuntebago t-shirts here. No idea from whence.)

Bernard Hill:

You are not supposed to know about it!" "There were five or six of us - Viggo, Orlando and Sean [Bean]. Liv came in and out [of the group]. Viggo has this special kind of crudeness that he is capable of. We were in the same make up bus [along with Bloom]. When I came back [from a break] it was called the Cuntybago. It was our private club. We had wine tasting sessions and had lots of parties. We also kept lots of food in there. Anything that was out [on the table], you could have. You could drink it, eat it, borrow it, smoke it… but don´t go looking in any drawers. That´s where we kept our 'special stuff'! [The Cuntybago bar would on occasion open very early] like 6:30am. There were days that we needed it. [I've made life-long friends with] everybody who was in the Cuntybago. Leaving the first time was such a huge wrench. Especially because of the Cuntybago, it was like our club. Fortunately we managed to get it back for Return of the king reshoots, so ROTK was the Return of the Cuntybago. We actually drove it out onto the streets for Viggo’s farewell. Viggo didn’t know we were going to do it, and when it started moving, you should have seen his face. I kept shouting, “Cunty libre! Cunty libre!” And the bus start leaving—we were breaking free. For propriety’s sake it was called the C-Bago Club, because you couldn’t put Cunty on the call sheet. Sean Bean came in, Liv was also a part of it. As soon as I get back to England I’m going to start the C-Bago web site: Orlando will do fashion and Viggo will do current affairs. I’ll probably do gossip — you know, the social calendar. Liv will do Hollywood and Sean Bean will do the art of war. It’ll be our little corner of the world.

youtube

(Bernard & Orlando Bloom getting make-up done. Here's the green bus again.)

Elijah:

Cuntybago is an amalgamation of 'Winnebago' and Viggo Mortensen´s cuss word of choice. I've gained an appreciation of the word cunt. Negative words - the best thing is to diffuse them by using and taking the meaning away. Cunt! Cunt! It's a great, great word. Very forceful. [Viggo] became utterly fascinated with it and it became the word of the film. Their Winnebago for makeup was called the Cuntybago. I was not a part of the Cuntybago unfortunately - it was the makeup room of Orlando, Viggo and Sean Bean - but it was a lovely place to visit. Cuntybago T-shirts were made up. There was a Cunty Christmas and we had a Cunty Christmas tree, all this stuff. Cate Blanchett [who plays the elf queen Galadriel] was deemed Her Cuntliness. I think we were all secretly jealous of the Cuntybago. I was anyway. I loved the atmosphere. Any place that had Viggo in the centre was always an interesting place to be… And that was where all the alcohol was. It was just spending all of that time with brits and Aussies. The word ‘Cunt’ came up quite a lot. I was fascinated by that and how it could become not so dirty. It’s one of the few swear words that still shock people." Is that why you called Cate Blanchett “Her Cuntliness? “Not my creation. She was called that by Viggo Mortensen. I put the blame on him. It was used during the making of the movie and seems a bit silly now. Wood says that his Cuntybago T-shirt is home in a drawer. "It's too big for me. I'm a small guy."

(A few photos up on the mirror in front of Viggo. I'm guessing it's Henry on the toilet (aww!), and Viggo and Orlando doing something something... Sharing a cigarette? Extinguishing a cigarette on Viggo's tongue? It looks kind of erotic. And who's the other dude?)

Billy:

"On Lord of the rings we'd go to Viggo and Orlando's trailer which was called The Cuntybago. Viggo was good for getting Irish whiskey, which was great but I keep trying to educate him on malt whisky. (To Billy it was just V&O's trailer. Like it's where they lived together...) Hobbits, an elf, a King of Men, maybe a dwarf. And quite a few times a wizard, sometimes a princess. Ha ha! That's enough to make anyone feel pissed. We had some good times on that one, some great times."

Peter Jackson:

"The actors had a spiritual connection to it. I liked the way they had photographs [Mortensen and Bloom] taken behind-the-scenes, plastered all over the walls."

(From the reshoots, I think. Beautifully blurry.)

Liv Tyler:

I can't believe he [Mortensen] talked about that. That was our private world. There was a lot of liquor on that bus. But the funniest thing about this bus is that this thing was a beast. It was so tiny; nothing worked. If they ever washed our hair it would go from scalding hot to freezing cold. There was no heat. Our makeup trailer became the center of things. It was given a really bad name that I cannot repeat. There were pranks, most of them also too dirty to tell. I love them all, all my costars. We would hang out mostly in the hair-and-makeup trailer, and after work at dinner. We would eat all the time and drink wine and laugh. I think that a lot of that was the friendships that we made with each other and the fact that we all needed each other. It was vital that we all had each other to survive and to be able to laugh. Everybody had a really good sense of humor, thank God. We'd be constantly making jokes and decorating the trailer with ridiculous things and being rude and that was our sort of little bubble of escape in our makeup trailer.

(Photo by Liv, in the bus. You can see all the polaroids and stuff behind the unicorn elf.)

Cate Blanchett:

Viggo is the funkiest person I've ever met. I am far too polite to . . . he had this thing he called "the cunty-bago" . . . no, I guess I shouldn't go into that. So, yeah, he's incredible, very funny.

So, I can't quite figure out which bus The Cuntybago actually is: the green one Orlando is seen exiting? Or the yellow-ish one seen in the vids from the reshoots? Because they aren't the same. And in the vid from the final day, Bernard says the bus he drove on that last day was the same they'd had "for years" and which never moved before. While Orlando said they drove The Cuntybago around "for 18 months". So which bus was it? And did they drive the bus around or not? Or was it stationary? It's a mystery.

(This is the green bus - but is it the make-up trailer? Same as in the vid with Bernard.)

(Here in the reshoots, the bus is yellow-ish? And completely different. Looks more like a Winnebago than the green one really... So which one is The Cuntybago?)

That's all I have found about this infamous, mythical place, where all the magic happened, as they say. If anyone has info to add, please do! I want this post to be comprehensive!

#viggo mortensen #orlando bloom #lord of the rings #viggorli #the lore of the rings #elijah wood #bernard hill #billy boyd #liv tyler #The Cuntybago #lotr cast #lotrips

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qsycomplainsalot · 1 day

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So I watched Furiosa

Furiosa Road: a Star Wars Story. It wasn't likely to live up to Fury Road, and it didn't. It would have been a tall order. While it was well worth paying to see in theaters, I was still a little disappointed; I'm going to explain why, without spoilers, and then after a very visible cut I'll comment on a few specific things in the movie.

First of all it felt long, but not two hours long so I guess it speaks to its quality. Going through the cast, everyone did a good job, although I wasn't blown away by the on screen chemistry of Anya Taylor-Joy and Tom Burke. More on that later. Chris Hemsworth as the overarching antagonist is this movie's standout performance, in a way that I'm somewhat conflicted about. More on that later too.

Overall it feels as if, after making Fury Road a trim and thrilling movie, the creatives behind it strung together all the piles of amazing ideas they had left on the cutting room floor into another complete movie, but not a very cohesive story with a beginning middle and end with enough connective tissue to captivate an audience. There's no shortage of props, costumes, characters, stunts and just straight up visuals, although the music is not up to the standards set by Fury Road. What's really missing is a tight knit script.

I'd say watch it if you like the franchise, otherwise I'd just wait for it to release on small screens.

My biggest complaint with this movie is that it's split between two relationships, between Hemsworth as Dementus or Tom Burke as Jack with Furiosa, when really with how it's paced it could barely afford one. I am just completely confused by people saying Jack and Furiosa's relationship was the highlight of the movie, it was vague, bland, and Jack died before I could really care about him. All this relationship did was explain how Furiosa became so good at driving a war rig, despite the fact that by this point in the movie she'd fended for herself just fine, presumably using what she'd been taught by the vuvuzela tribe. Likewise Dementus as a character is extremely simple, in a good way, and is the a better representation of time passing in the movie than literal text onscreen telling you it's been fifteen years or some such. It's on the nose, but Chris Hemsworth is acting his heart out and it's always a joy to see him on screen. He's spiraling his way through the movie in a perfect exemple of what Furiosa must avoid becoming. So knowing that, the main plot should be about Furiosa having to lose her way home (the star map tattoo on her arm, which we know she lose by Fury Road) and choose to stay at the Citadel to kill him, setting up a bitter ending where she's gained nothing and is stuck killing more people instead of letting go of revenge and going home. Unfortunately Furiosa: the video game: the movie very much lives in the shadow of its 2015 sequel, and so the plot is split further to set that up. I've talked about how it hurts the pacing and how much screentime the other characters could have gotten, but I think it actually greatly diminished the ending. The end of Furiosa has her catch up to Dementus, bind him and beat him up, asking him to give her her childhood and mother back, only for Dementus to refuse to play along in anyway. He tells her that revenge achieves nothing, that he knows from personal experience and that she can kill him however she wants, that he doesn't particularly care. I don't do it justice it's a pretty good end to his arc this movie. Instead of Furiosa killing him there and then and validating that speech for a cohesive theme to the movie (keeping the hope stuff for Fury Road where it works), the history man voiceover tells us that although the true end of Dementus is disputed, Furiosa told him the truth, that she kept him alive with a peach tree growing out of his dick ?? And then she brings the peach to Immortan's wives in the Citadel, and then the credits are interspersed with shots from Fury Road. I can excuse the impossibility of keeping someone alive while a tree is growing on them for the sake of Mad Max movies very much being wasteland fairy tales, but I think directly linking Furiosa: Road One with Fury Road like that is both pointless and very hamfisted, on top of being a big disappointment when it comes to Dementus' character. Like the guy was clearly fucked up from losing his daughters just kill him and be done with it. Anyway yeah I don't think I'll rewatch this movie nearly as often as I rewatch Fury Road. Shoutout to the Octoboss though, he's the Most Valuable Sidecharacter of this movie.

#qsy watches things #furiosa

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s-rosie · 22 hours

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Javery Hcssss

hi guysssss! I hope you like these hcs and enjoyed them as much as i liked making them. I took some of the tips. I got from my last post and used to them to make these. Please comment any more ways I can improve. I’m always trying to get better. Thank you.

when jameson first started dating her, she had never received romantic affection, so she had no idea to react to it and just combusted

jamie leaves the biggest and darkest hickeys on her and she sometimes doesn’t even realize until she hears snickering

at a gala, one time avery pulled jameson into the bathroom and they made out until alisa came looking for them, averys red lipstick stained his face and there was no makeup to cover it up causing alisa to just scream at them for like 20 minutes and he walked around the gala with lipstick stains on his face the rest of the night

avery once told jameson what she always wanted her first dance song to be, and a few hours later he called her to help her find her phone and his ringtone was that song (in my mind it is timeless by ts but you decide)

she had so much trouble showing jameson just how much she loved him at first, so she would write him letters telling him her feelings, jameson then incorporated some of the things ave wrote in the letters into his wedding vows (she also included some of things he said in his love confession in tfg in her vows (they both started sobbing and no one else knew why))

avery and jamie make each other scrapbooks about things they do together

jameson goes up randomly to ave and takes a 0.5 of her, that photo then becomes his lock screen for the day

whenever the song call me maybe comes on, jamie SCREAMS that song to ave no matter if they are in public or not

they watch disney movies and go to the parks together all the time

sometimes when it rains, they go to a secluded part of the estate and slow dance

they once got food poisoning together from a 3:00 am taco bell run and they held each other while the other threw up

when they were still in school, jamie did theatre and avery was the assistant director just so she could watch jamie preform. he also had to stage kiss and almost dropped out because he felt like he was cheating on ave. she assured him it was fine

jameson once did avery’s makeup and hair and it looked so good people thought it was professionally done

once ave asked jameson what she should get done to her nails, and he responded with something like “rounded square nude french tips” and she just sat there like “how the hell does he know that”

when jamie gives avery one of his jackets, he always pretends like he’s not cold and ave finds it adorable

jamie was once on avery’s phone and read some of the texts she sent max about him (like her absolutely thirsting for him) and he was so surprised because it was a major flip from her usual self

he always opens car doors and pulls out ave’s seat

like i said in my last hc post about them being theatre kids and dressing up like eliza and ham for halloween, he was posting stuff the whole night like “my life is going fine because elliza is in it” and she was posting stuff like “he better say no to this” while he looked over at another girl in a red dress (everyone thought it was adorable and hilarious)

jameson can sketch and draw pretty well, and ave can paint, so they once made a custom chess board

no matter if they admit it or not, they cannot sleep without each other. like if the other is out working late or sum, the one in bed cannot fall asleep.

jamie loves braiding avery’s hair and he even watches tutorials on how to make complex braids so her looks unique. when people ask who/how she did her hair, she responds with an excited “oh! it was jamie, hes the best!” and he just smiles proudly.

they make up very complicated yet super cute handshakes that they do often

they once made a tiktok of them singing promiscuous and the fans went BALLISTIC

avery once waxed jameson’s eyebrows and gave him acrylic nails for fun (he looked absolutely fabulous)

i really hope you liked theseee! please let me know how i can improve. also my inbox is open if you have any requests or recommendations. thank you so much!

#the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #jameson hawthorne #averyjameson #avery grambs #headcanon

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farfromstrange · 2 days

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Do No Harm

CHAPTER TWELVE: Oh, Chaos!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: You have an eventful day at work rekindling with a new acquaintance and dealing with a peculiar trauma case, but the most prominent thing on your mind is dinner with Matt, and you could really use some advice from someone who knows a thing or two about dates to keep you from canceling.

Warnings for this chapter: slight angst, self-hatred/doubt, mentions of past abuse, mentions of injury

Word Count: 5.3k

A/n: I'm sorry this took so long. I took an unexpected hiatus, and I couldn't break out of the writer's block, so this took close to a month to finish. I read this a dozen times, and I fixed what I could. This is rather "boring" compared to what came before and what I've got planned, but there is plot in there that will become important again later down the line. Just so you know what you're getting yourself into in advance. 'Kay, thank you!

Read Chapter 12: Oh, Chaos! here on AO3

Four missed calls, and twenty text messages. The chat is full of one-sided advances. ‘Claire’ is written on top, but her contact resembles an empty void in contrast.

I don’t know what I did to deserve this radio silence, but I thought you would like to know I asked Matt out again. I like him. We’re having dinner on Friday. Do with that as you will.

Hope you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere.

Call me when you can. Please.

I’m worried about you.

Love you.

It has been like this since Matt called you when you least expected it. Whether he was looking for support, professional advice, or just the sound of your voice, you’re not sure, but it warmed your heart to know he thought of you and no one else, and he picked up the phone to call you.

Before, you tried telling yourself that there isn’t much between you. You tried telling yourself that perhaps, it would never go anywhere and not to be disappointed because from the start, Matt has been too good to be true, but after sharing a glimpse of your past, you feel closer to him, and you don’t want to let him go. He is the first good thing that has come to you in years.

Claire’s radio silence hurts. You don’t want to admit it, but sending text after text to your best friend and receiving not even a ‘read’ sign both concerns and upsets you. Ever since she took you under her wing when you came to New York, you’ve—sometimes involuntarily—shared your anger with her, your sadness, your pain, and those rare moments of happiness.

She was the one who told you to go for it, so her behavior remains suspicious. You want to ask her; you want to confront her about everything and get the truth out of her, but unless she answers your contact attempts or shows up to work, there is not much you can do. You tried from the moment you got home to the second leading up to your next shift at the hospital. So far, nothing. A few days ago, you would have called the police and said that this was nothing like Claire, but now, you’re not so sure anymore what to believe, and it is pissing you off when you should be excited.

Things are looking up. You don’t want to look down and ruin this for yourself, knowing there is a chance your thoughts will most likely turn against you again at some point. You have to enjoy it while it lasts.

Glancing down at your phone, you walk down one of the hallways at Metro General. You shake your head. It’s been hours. Perhaps after you get off work, you will head to where Claire is staying. Just to check on her. The nagging feeling that shit is about to hit the fan won’t leave you, and it seems like the right thing to do, even if just to ask her what her problem is.

She’s always so quick to tell you what’s good for you. She gives you advice you never even asked for, but you end up appreciating it regardless. She knows what she’s doing, and she is a lot smarter than you are most of the time. You know her as well as you possibly can after two years; Claire is hiding something, and that is unlike her. If she gets herself in danger because of something she feels like she can’t talk to you about, or if she has an opinion afraid to share with you, you need to know because it is important to you. Your mind is disordered and distorted; you are well aware that sometimes, you don’t see things as clearly as you should. Claire’s rationality is a blessing and a curse. You’re dependent on it.

“Hey, Doc,” a familiar voice sounds from the nurse’s station.

You stop in your tracks, looking up from your phone to the man standing across from you. You haven’t seen that face in a while, even though he spends a lot of time here—almost as much as he does at work. You doubt he ever goes home to sleep.

Your face lights up, and you stuff your phone back into the pocket of your coat. “Ben!” you exclaim, your lips curving into a smile.

“Long time no see,” he says in an attempt to match your delighted reaction.

You hate to admit it, but Ben Urich looks worse for wear. Dark circles under his eyes match the deepened wrinkles of exhaustion, and his lips are cracked in more places than one. His shirt shows the slightest of coffee stains he tries to cover with his visitor badge. You doubt he has had the time to do his laundry in a long time. And there is that expression of agony he usually knows how to hide, but the walls he once built around himself are starting to crumble.

The sympathy you have for this man cannot be put into words—because your feelings are unpleasant most of the time, too, and unless you have been in an impossible situation, all you can have is empathy. You, however, are not a stranger to despair, and the people around you all seem to be carrying too much of it, too.

You clear your throat, putting the file in your hand aside to shake his. “How have you been?” you dare to ask.

He shrugs. “Could be better, but… I’m alive. Healthy,” he says. It’s a modified standard answer you do not buy for even a second.

Your eyes soften, but you try to keep the mood light. God knows what he has been through since the last time you saw him on this very floor. “Yeah? That’s good. The Bulletin still giving you a hard time about the things you want to write?” You chuckle.

“Ah, you know how it is.” Ben leans against the counter. “Readers these days are apparently more interested in celebrity scandals and gentrification than true crime.”

The pen scratches against the chart you have to sign. “Well, just know that you will always have a loyal fan of your true crime section in me, and I would tell that to Eric’s face if you ever need me to.” You offer him a smile of pure honesty, and his eyes actually light up this time.

He chuckles. “Can I quote you on that?”

“That depends. Am I getting paid?”

“I’m afraid the only form of payment I have is cheap office coffee.”

“You’re in luck then,” you say, “I am a sucker for cheap office coffee because it’s still better than cheap hospital coffee.”

His face contorts. “Yeah, I’m not going to argue with you on that,” he says.

Again, you chuckle. The question rests on the tip of your tongue, but only when the silence stretches out painfully long enough to prompt a drop of sweat to run down his temple, you ask, “How’s your wife?” No pain or pity in your voice—you know he doesn’t need it.

Ben swallows in response, scratching his fingers through his hair. “Uh, hanging in there. They told me she’s had a good day today. Lucid,” he tells you.

“That sounds like progress. You know, with her condition, every good day is a success.”

“Yeah, yeah, I, uh… I agree. But… she’s not the only reason I’m here. Shelly called me here today to, uh, discuss my wife’s future at this hospital…”

The muscles in your shoulders tense and stiffen. You slowly lift your head. “Oh,” is all you can muster up to say. You know where this is going.

“Yeah,” he says. “I tried convincing her to keep her here a little while longer. But apparently, you guys can’t accommodate her much longer, and she wants me to look into hospice or some other form of long-term care.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

But what else are you supposed to say? You clear your throat. “I, uh… Shelly’s under a lot of pressure, you know? We’re having funding issues in every department, and she is just trying to make due, but… I know your wife’s been here for a very long time, and she’s dependent on the care. Alzheimer’s can be incredibly cruel, and I’m sure hospice is a lot more expensive than what your insurance covers if she stays here, so it isn’t fair. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” says Ben.

“Can I help in any way?” you ask.

“Well, unless you can win the lottery or find a cure for Alzheimer’s in the next seven days, I’m afraid not.”

“Believe me, people are trying, but—”

“I know,” he cuts you off. “I still appreciate it. You’re one of the few doctors here who still care about the people.”

You shake your head, saying, “It’s not that easy. The system is rigged against us. We’re all aware of it, but some of us just… fall off the wagon because they think the only way through is to become what we hate the most. Selfish, egotistical money-makers always chasing recognition rather than caring about the patients we’re supposed to serve,” you explain. “These new fancy medical centers only those with millions in their bank accounts can afford are where all the funding goes, and those who cater to the underprivileged and uninsured—like us—have to suffer the consequences because we don’t chase after money. I would know; I did my residency at one of those hospitals, and I hated how some of these people treated their patients, so I always tried to use the resources we’ve got to help people, even those who couldn’t afford it. Of course, not all of my fellow residents stayed on that path with me. The more high-risk surgeries, the better the payout, even when unnecessary. Upcoding and needless tests were the standards we were held to. I’ve always hated that. Public hospitals are at the bottom of the food chain, and the patients end up pulling the short straw, but most doctors don’t start with the mindset that it’s just something we have to accept. That lethargy comes with time. And the system.”

“Kind of reminds me of that kook in the black mask,” Ben muses. “With his disbelief in the system and his…his twisted sense of justice.”

You scoff. “Well…”

Your mind flashes back to the other night in that alleyway. The way he interfered when he heard you in trouble. The cockiness he seemed to exceed, but it quickly vanished when he realized you may have risked your life to save someone else’s, but you were not going to leave another person injured. You don’t have a lot of trust in the justice system, but that man seemed… different; like the only way he could believe in justice is when he does something against the persistent injustice that so many turn a blind eye to.

But it’s not just Hell’s Kitchen, which the Man In Black seems to gracefully ignore. He does what he needs to where he thinks he has to, but it is not just the system in his beloved city that is wired against the people it is supposed to protect and serve. It’s not just the justice system or society overall, it’s the government, too. And you truly believe he knows that, too, he simply does not have the manpower to fight all battles at once. No one has.

Ben eyes you curiously, up and down. “What, you don’t agree?” he asks.

You sigh. “I don’t think he has a twisted sense of justice, no.”

“Why? You met him?”

Saying yes would make you an accessory to his crimes. “I’ve heard the same things you have, Ben, and I think he really is trying to change something,” you answer instead.

You find a sudden determination in his eyes as he leans closer. “You treat his victims, right? You’ve seen what he can do with his bare hands. Taking out entire syndicates that have been bothering Hell’s Kitchen for decades, going up against bad seeds and corporations, and he never backs down,” he says.

“If you’re trying to say it’s a bad thing…” You trail off.

“I think it’s a grey area. A fine line.”

“Well, as fine as that line may be, I don’t feel as much empathy for the people he puts in here because I’ve seen what they can do just a few blocks from here,” you state and close the chart in front of you on the counter. “I had to watch lives and families get destroyed. The ones responsible for serving justice either didn’t have the evidence, or they were too late, or the only witnesses died on my table, or—and that happens quite frequently, too—they just didn’t care,” you say. “The times I watched them make arrests, the legal system ended up failing the victims anyway. Now, I’m not saying I condone violence, but this city needs help. Depending on the area, police sometimes don’t even bother to check, and that pisses me off because a lot of the time, tragedies could have been prevented if first responders just got there on time. Or if the perpetrators involved in a crime suffered the consequences for their actions instead of bailing out the same day on a domestic violence charge. I know that the police can't be everywhere at once, but… A lot of people feel safer with this guy out there because they know he tries.”

Ben desperately scribbles along on a small notepad you’re not sure where he got it from. He’s not even wearing a coat.

“It’s like David and Goliath,” you tell him, too animated to pay closer attention to your surroundings. “It’s a contest wherein a smaller, weaker opponent faces a much bigger and stronger adversary. I just… I don’t know. In this city, there are a lot of metaphorically weak individuals who don’t have the means to fight back against the big guy. Like I said, a system rigged against its people does not help the people live a safe and happy life in a city that makes them feel like all their advances are futile.”

“That’s excellent,” he murmurs.

You glimpse down at his hand, frowning. “It’s just my opinion.”

“There’s nothing ‘just’ about it. I know a lot of people feel the way you do, and yes, that’s fucked up. But that’s why we need people like you to speak up. People with more influence than the little guy. People who serve the people.”

“Ben,” you try to get a word in.

“Hear me out,” he says. “If I can get Eric to sign off on it, I want to write a think piece for the public. About the man in the mask. About Hell’s Kitchen and New York, and the things no one likes to talk about. And I’d like to get you on the record.”

“With all due respect—and I do love the concept—I don’t think interviewing me would be such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

Your pulse has inevitably gotten higher. Because if my ex finds out where I am, he’ll kill me. The thought screams like a banshee, echoing like the trajectory of a bouncing basketball. It takes you a moment to realize that the thudding is your heart. Dull, aching, and infused with a panic as old as time.

You squeeze the pen in your fist, feeling the plastic crack under the weight. “I can’t have my name or face on the record,” you confess. “It’s a, uh… protection thing.”

The most human thing to ask would be, ‘Protection from what?’ You don’t have to read minds to know that those are the words forming on Ben’s lips the second you offer him an explanation that is not quite the truth. It couldn’t be further from it, but your truth is a tank and tanks can take down everything in their path without suffering as much as a scratch.

You take the stage before he can ask—before you can ride yourself further into this pile of dirt and lies. “I treat people for a living, and my opinions out there… I need to protect myself if someone ever wants to file a lawsuit against me for prejudicial behavior because they could easily use an interview I gave as evidence,” you say. “I could lose my license.” Your license, and your life.

He releases a strangled breath. “Yeah, no. Of course,” Ben says. “I knew that. But I could always refer to my source as anonymous. Most of the time, people don’t care about who said what anyway. They just want something to talk about.”

You want to scream. The alarm is blaring loud enough for the nerves in your body to hear it. The rage is so hard to swallow. Not at him though. It isn’t Ben’s fault that even now, you have to live your life as if it was never yours to begin with.

“But,” he adds upon seeing the look on your face, like a deer in bright headlights, “unless a certain Man in Black decides to leave another stranded criminal on my doorstep, Eric will never sign off on it. I’m sorry,” the exasperation in his voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard. “I didn’t mean to jump this at you. I know you have more…important things to do than worry about an old journalist who knows damn well his best days are behind him.”

The shake of your head follows in an instant. His confidence lies drowned in the invisible puddle at your feet. “You don’t always have to go with the flow of time,” you tell him. “If you want to write something, you should. People’s tastes change, but there will always be someone out there who wants to read what you have to say.”

Ben smiles at you. “Does that mean you’ll think about my offer?” he asks.

You return the gesture. “When I’ve done my important things, maybe I will.”

And chances are, you will think about it. You will think about it, and then you will cry over a bottle of wine and wish you were never born or that, once again, he killed you when he had the chance. You will wish that you didn’t run, and you will curse John and your entire existence to hell and back because without him, you wouldn’t have to guard your heart like a maximum-security prison, and you wouldn’t have to hide who you are like a secret from Pandora’s box. In the end, though, you know you will have to decide if he doesn’t forget what he offered you—and knowing Ben Urich, when he is allowed to write about what he wants, he won’t forget the sources he tried to recruit along the way.

You look up suddenly when the sirens start blaring above your head.

Attention all staff, Code Red, Emergency Department. Code Red, Emergency Department. Trauma team to the Emergency Department immediately.

“That sounds bad,” Ben comments.

You turn back to him, but before you can open your mouth and excuse yourself from the conversation (and your internal self-hatred party), one of the nurses behind the counter picks up the phone with a knowing nod. A second passes and all color fades from her skin before her features contort. “I’m sorry, what?!” she damn-near screeches.

You frown back at her. “Hey, Evie,” — you snap your fingers — “What’s going on?”

She moves the speaker away from her lips. “Um,” she stammers. “Have you ever seen Texas Chainsaw Massacre?”

“Oh, my God.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s 11 am!” you say, your eyes darting between her and the wall as if that would change anything.

Ben cuts in, “That doesn’t mean much in a city that never sleeps,” he says. “People are always crazy ‘round here.”

You scoff. “Apparently! I’m so sorry, but I’ve gotta–”

“Yeah, no. I know.” He nods, his eyes softening in an instant. “Go!”

With a grateful nod, you leave your work on the counter and head into a sprint down the hall.

A life-saving surgery can take up to several hours. There really is no margin for error, so you tune out the noise of the world outside and focus on the chaos you have to control. You focus on what you know and what you have learned because if you don’t, the person you are cutting into with a scalpel could die at your very touch. For those few critical hours, you are nothing but a doctor, but the world doesn’t stop or disappear in real life when you cease to exist; when you come back after those few hours, the world is still falling apart, and you still have to go back home and face the reality you are forced to live in. But how can you think that when people are fighting for their lives every day before your eyes; when you can try as hard as you want to help them, but you fail more often than you do not? Mental scars often out-rule the physical scars of a trauma patient, and whenever you tell them it gets better, you feel like you are lying to them. Because it never gets better, it feels like.

People are dying and falling apart, and so are you, and it hurts that nothing ever seems to change, not even when you try to tell yourself that people are dependent on you and that your world can’t stop again because this is your job; you signed up for this. But you didn’t sign up for this kind of life. You fell in with the wrong person, craving a love like in the fairytales you used to read as a little girl. You missed the feeling of being loved because the people who were supposed to love you died and fell apart, and you were left fantasizing. It’s a downright mess in your head and everywhere around you, and you are continuously stumbling over the broken glass on your floor, falling into the shards and cutting yourself over and over again until you’re bleeding out but never fully dead.

You spend the next six hours in the operating room, forgetting about Matt and the implications of your dinner. The one you asked him out to. You forget about Ben and his offer, and you think finally, finally, you can breathe. Human anatomy isn’t quite as complicated as this. The one thing you have been worrying most about, the person who has occupied your every waking thought for days now, fades into the shadows for a little while, but then you’re threading the needle through the skin of the man whose life you have saved, and your second to breathe turns into a riot.

Ben’s words return to your conscience; the masked individual he seems most fascinated with moves to the forefront of your fragile mind. He is all over you again, and it sends a thrill down your spine that positively terrifies you; it terrifies you that it doesn’t terrify you. He shouldn’t matter, and you shouldn’t lose another thought to him, but Ben Urich knows how to cast out a net to catch even the most unlikely adversary.

You redial the last number on your phone. Standing in the emergency room that has grown quiet for the afternoon, you feel the weight of the world sinking back in. The clock keeps ticking closer to the end of your shift and inevitably, dinner. Forgetting is a blessing until you realize that thinking about it would have prepared you more, and now you barely have time.

You want to cancel. You should cancel. Claire has not been picking up, and you’re worried about her. But she’s an adult, isn’t she? She pushed you into doing this, and then she bailed. A good friend would at least give you a reason for her change of mind. She hasn’t said a word because she refuses to answer, and it’s starting to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

“This is Claire. Leave a message,” her voicemail greets you.

You sigh. “Hey, I don’t know why you refuse to pick up my calls, but I could use your help. I’m, uh, freaking out about this stupid dinner that wouldn’t be happening if it wasn’t for what you said, so the least you could do is call me back and help me pick a dress, maybe talk me off the ledge,” you say. Your voice cracks. “Please, Claire, call me back.”

The silence is defeating. You put your phone down, staring at the paperwork before you. You have a lot more of that in your office, but you can’t be bothered to be entirely alone right now. Not when you are fighting a war with yourself inside your head. The one soldier you thought you could count on has retreated from the frontlines.

You look up when your peripheral vision picks up on movement. “Trouble?” one of the nurses asks, motioning to your face.

“Depends on the definition,” you say.

“Hit me with it. Maybe I can help.”

You couldn’t shut up even if you wanted to. “Well… Do you know anything about proper date attire?”

She grins, dropping whatever she was holding before to turn her undivided attention to you. “A date?” she asks. “Well, well, Doc. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Oh, just… a guy I met. A good guy.” You smile sadly at the thought of those beautiful brown eyes, and the green forest that he hides in his irises whenever the light hits his beautiful face just right. The wrinkles, the dimples, and the faint freckles on his nose, too. He is so beautiful.

She leans forward on her elbows on the counter of the nurse’s station. “The good guy who left your number here the other day?”

You raise your eyebrows, flabbergasted. “Wh—” The blood rushes to your face, and you suddenly feel very warm as you gape at her. “Does everyone here know about that?” you ask, your voice bothered on a high-pitched siren of embarrassment.

The nurse only smirks. “He is very handsome,” she states. “It’s hard to forget a face like that. And he’s come here twice. One of those times he sat by your bedside. Now, I don’t know about you, but I would marry a guy like that in a heartbeat. Bodies in the basement included.”

You hope he doesn’t have bodies in his basement. What if he does though? What if he is just another bad choice waiting to be made? What then? You can’t imagine it, and the things you’re feeling… you have only felt them in your mind because nothing you had was ever real, but you love feeling them now more than you thought possible. It’s the fact that you love that treacherous feeling so much that you feel like you’re not thinking clearly enough to make rational decisions. But you don’t want to make rational decisions, you’ve realized. Life shouldn’t be about that. You can’t turn the voice in your head off and make it stop screaming at you, but you know how to feel. If you only knew how to channel that without falling apart at the hands of your self-doubts though. If only you knew.

You run a wary hand over your face. “Okay,” you murmur, closing your chart so you can look at your colleague. “Claire isn’t answering her phone and this date… it’s freaking me out. She said I had to get back out there, but she bailed on me,” you tell her. “I don’t know what to wear or how to behave because the place we’re going to is… fancy? And I don’t even know how to pay for it. I… I don’t know if I should go because the last time I was on a date… let’s just say it didn’t end well. So, if you could just tell me that this is a bad idea and I should take on a second shift instead so I won’t feel bad about lying to him, I would be forever in your debt.”

She shakes her head, not having missed a second of your rambling. “Oh, hell no!” she exclaims.

You match her incredulity, propping your hands up on your hips. “Excuse me?” you ask.

Her head stops, and the way she stands there reminds you of your English teacher from high school. Tall, brunette, and sassy. “You are not bailing on that date like Claire bailed on you just because you’re experiencing anxiety,” the nurse tells you. She’s insistent. You doubt you will get a word in that isn’t an utterance of agreement.

“You don’t understand,” you try to convince her, or are you trying to convince yourself? “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Did you miss the part where I said my last date ended in disaster?”

“So what? I’ve had a lot of disastrous dates.”

“That’s not…ugh!” It is your turn to shake your head, looking at the sterile wall as though it were a screen.

A life built on a lie is not much of a life at all. You have as good a reason as anyone to bail on this date, and it’s not just a disastrous date. You didn’t pick the wrong guy off of Hinge and fall in love with him. What happened to you was different on a level you can’t easily describe, but it also shouldn’t define you; she’s right. Your insecurities are going to be the death of you one day.

“Let me ask you this,” she says. “Do you like him? Or do you just think he’s a really good guy because he was nice to you?”

Your jaw slacks. The Audacity. “I… I think he’s a great guy. Nice. Forthcoming. That’s all,” you answer. It’s not a lie, but it is not the full truth she wanted to hear.

“Uh-huh. I may not be a human polygraph, but I can smell a lie from miles away like a bloodhound. And you, Doctor, are lying and therefore interfering with your treatment.”

“I’m not a patient.”

“Are you though?”

You sigh. You should not have confided in her, but also, perhaps it was the best choice you could have made.

“I like him,” you confess upon looking into her eyes. “Okay? I like him. He’s not just a good guy. He’s… different, and that’s why I like him.”

She stands up straighter, a newfound energy filling her veins. “That’s more like it. Now, let’s forget the whole ‘canceling and using work as an excuse’ thing. What’s the vibe?” she asks.

The change of subject throws you off for a second. You’re walking on eggshells, fragile train tracks you could fall off and electrocute yourself with if you only take one wrong step. But that doesn’t mean you can’t take risks.

“Fancy-ish,” you answer. You don’t have any strength left to fight. “I don’t know. It’s dinner.”

“Dinner’s romantic. Put on a silk or velvet dress because those are the fabrics with less risk of becoming a sensory nightmare, possibly some jewelry, but you don’t need much more than that. He’ll fall in love with your personality first. The rest is just… for your confidence and his imagination.”

She looks so proud of herself. You can’t deny that it’s good advice. It’s not the sound of your voice filling a voicemail to the brim or a solely blue chat history; it’s something you can work with.

You nod slowly. “If I didn’t have mountains of paperwork waiting for me, I would kiss you,” you say.

With a chuckle, she retorts, “Save that for your date.”

“I’m not kissing him.” You grab your pile of work. “It’s just dinner. I don’t even want to kiss him.”

On your way to the elevators, you catch a glimpse of her smirk. She’s not buying it. You don’t want her to. You don’t even trust yourself to tell the truth.

“I don’t,” you say, loud enough for her to hear but mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to kiss him,” you repeat because you don’t.

You don’t want to kiss Matt Murdock.

Except that you do, and you would do anything to make that happen—if your world wasn’t so unfair to begin with.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia @writtenbyred @echo-ethe @kezibear @peterbarnes

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x reader #charlie cox #reader insert #doctor!reader #do no harm

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seokyris · 3 days

Text

𝜗 𝓜e, 𝓔spresso .ᐟ 𝜚

⌗ synopsis — love at first sight is one thing but love at first glance is a whole different story for jake (idol!jake x blk! kpop idol reader — member of æspa)

warnings :: mild cursing, not proofread, the use of “you, your, you’re” instead of i / first person views, in lowercase, my first story so pleaaaase 😭

word count — 939 [funnyface]

you were a foreign idol from the states that had joined the group æspa after a good 3 years of training. you had been known as korea’s foreign beauty and an inspiration to many black kpop idols across the world that there was hope, and you can do whatever you put your mind to. like the black barbie of your time.

but your biggest fan? sim jaeyun. you two had never spoken before, but he was so enticed by you and your visuals. he had spoken publicly about you and how you were one of his idols even though you two were around the same age. this infatuation turned into a little joke between fandoms and even dating rumors which he formally apologized about. throughout the many months to come, he had asked for your number numerous times to which you replied with how you wasn’t really giving any one your number yet

but after many attempts, you had given him your number. you thought he was cute don’t get me wrong, but you just wanted the attention and rumors to stop. but they didn’t. after giving him your number he got asked a question about you

“do you like [__]? are you two dating?” “no, we’re not dating. but i do have her number!” he said with a wide smile on his face as he read more comments like he didn’t just say something that could potentially lead to yet ANOTHER. dating rumor.

in the dorms with aespa that night it was chaotic. “what the fuck.” you exclaimed while karina & giselle showed you the clip “no, [__] he’s obsessed with you.” giselle laughed loudly as winter came up to the three of you. “did you see the clip? there’s like 7 posts about it already on twitter..” you examined winter’s feed hoping what she was saying wasn’t true.. but it was. you sighed heavily as you walked over to your shared dorm. “i’m going to sleep. this’ll blow over by tomorrow… right?” the three girls shrugged as you rolled your eyes contently and shut the door. being greeted by your groups maknae, ningning. who had been watching jake’s live from the beginning

“hey ning.” you huffed, shuffling over to your bed and flopping onto it. “hey, what’s wrong?” “another dating rumor.” she sighed. “look on the bright side, he probably just wants to be friends, try and get to know him more, under, the idol image.” you looked up from your bed and thought for a second maybe she was right — maybe he just wanted to be friends! you whipped out your phone and texted the boy.

“hey jake it’s [__]! just texting to get to know you better, i know i gave you my number but we really never got to speak about our lives outside our careers:)!” you sent the message and awaited a reply. . and, of course, within minutes, he responds ! “hey! sorry, i was a little scared to text you lol!! but yeah let’s talk!!!” you smiled as you kept the conversation going for a couple hours. from the conversation, you had found out what movies he liked, what he liked to be called and his favorite part of doing what he does.

these conversations lasted for months before you two started publicly hanging out and hugging at award shows, which of course, sparked confusion between fandoms & fan bases.

one night, you had been working in the studio for your groups new comeback as you walked back to your dorm to play animal crossing with winter when you see jake already playing, so you texted him “well goodnight to you too” “lol sorry, i haven’t been able to sleep lately..” you frowned at this text “awh why is that?” you replied with a :( emoji at the end. “honestly, i’ve been up thinking about our conversations, i’m so excited to start a new one everyday and i’ve been waiting for forever to finally talk to you and now i can. so i just stay up thinking about you.”

“wanna call?” you risk-fully typed as you almost threw your phone across the room — when you heard a ding! come from your phone. you gasped an hastily looked for it on your bed “sure, [__] let’s call” you melted at this text and called him. you two were quiet for a moment until he spoke up “i’m sorry.. if i came off as a little weird when we first met. when i first saw you i was amazed by you — like you were a goddess that flew in from the states.” he paused inbetween his words before speaking up again. “you really are one of my favorite people right now and i’m glad we’re talking.” you smiled at his confession and replied “thank you, jake. you’re too sweet.” the two of you talked until the morning came and ningning complained about having to sleep in the living room because of the noise.

after that, the two of you had spoken everyday, talking every single hour until he finally confessed, he proposed to be your boyfriend. he came to your dorms and brought flowers for you with a note saying “bf & gf?” it was simple, but you loved it. you texted him immediately after seeing them saying “yes, you can be my boyfriend.” a week later, you had released a solo track called “espresso.” jake listened to it on live and realized the lyrics were aimed at him

“said you can’t sleep? baby i know, that’s that me espresso..!” he sighed and chuckled at the lyrics, this was the start of a long relationship.

#sim jaeyun #enhypen scenarios #fanfic #enhypen #writing #black tumblr #black writers #enhypen jaeyun #jaeyun scenarios #jaeyun imagines #enhypen soft thoughts #x reader #blk writers

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indigosunsetao3 · 1 day

Note

for the GIF ask game! you can pick any character you see fit !

I just want you to know that watching men drive stick shift is in my top eight (dating myself here) of favorite things. So thank you for this.

Drinks and dinner were always a good time, even if you regretted agreeing to go when the day arrived. You knew you needed some time out of the house after being in the monotonous routine of work, home, a quick dinner and trashy television before bed for the past month. That's what happened when John was deployed, a stagnant routine counting down the days until his return. You were used to it after all this time but you could feel the melancholy sinking in, the rainy season not helping either.

You had sent John a quick message, not sure if he'd even get it, that you were going out with friends. Sometimes he could have his phone, others it was radio silent for days. It had been a stint of silence for about a week this time so you weren't expecting an answer. But as you applied your lipstick a message came back asking where you were going.

It was a surprise and you grin telling him about the plans for some sort of bar crawl. One of the girls in the group was newly single so it was an attempt to cheer her up and maybe find a bloke to take her home. All in good fun. After sending John a picture of your outfit you head out to meet your friend that was picking you up.

Despite being with your friends you keep your phone glued to your hand, texting John any moment you could. After being silent for so long you weren't about to pass up some time just talking. You send him pictures of what you are up to, what drinks you were having, laugh about a guy attempting (and failing) to chat up your single friends.

John answers each one without fail, even going as far as sending you a picture of his current company. Soap passed out on his bunk with his arm hanging off the edge and mouth wide open snoring. A scene you have seen multiple times before but still made you laugh anyway.

After a bit of silence, thinking he may have finally fallen asleep, another message comes through.

Where are you headed now? That little club off Lisle street with the weird name. They want to walk because parking is atrocious. My feet are on fire, shouldn't have worn heels. I'm about to tell them to go without me. Go on. Don't want them to hound you for being an old maid. But I am an old maid.

You grin and stick your phone back into your purse before making the long trek to the next place. It's drizzling and you are lamenting the idea of having to walk all the way back to the car when you were done. It was already past midnight and your warm bed was calling to you. But you smile and continue on with the group, telling yourself it's just one night.

Staking out one of the only tables left you tell the rest of the group you'll hold the spot while they all go to dance. Your feet can't take one more step. And while you're contemplating how rude it would be to just take your shoes off and hide your feet under the table for a bit a waiter walks over with a drink you haven't ordered.

"Oh, no I think you've got the wrong table," you answer with a grin, stretching back up from where you were about to undo your heel straps; you had decided to just risk it and give your feet a five minute break.

"Are you sure?" The waiter asks as they turn to look over at the bar before back to you, "he was insistent to send it to you. Said he knew you and seemed genuine."

You look at the drink the waiter has set down. It was certainly your drink, your favorite drink as a matter of fact, down to the extra cherry and no orange garnish. Who on Earth had sent that? Your friends were still on the dance floor. You sweep your eyes back over to the bar to the man the waiter is looking toward and you spot him.

John is standing at the bar.

He's leaning oh so casually against the woodtop with his hip, as if he had been there for hours. He's grinning at you knowingly as his eyes bore into yours, swirling his own plain whiskey on ice as he does.

He looks delicious standing there. Freshly trimmed beard and a haircut from what you can see. His skin a little tanner than when he had left, having spent time out in the sun on this deployment. But that's not what really catches your eye. It's the clothes. He knows exactly what he's doing wearing a crisp white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms and the top button undone; just as you liked. A large watch, one you had gifted him, sitting perfectly on his left wrist to match the gleaming wedding band.

"Ma'am?" The waiter asks a bit uncertain as they stood there watching the stare down. "Do you need me to-"

"It's mine," you answer suddenly, swiping the drink and taking a sip, "no worries." You don't look at them as you slip from the seat and wince only slightly at the pain in your feet. You know, vaguely, that it's rude to just ignore the waiter like this but you can't help it. John's eyes keep your focus completely locked on him and you move across the bar without hesitation to him. Your job of holding the table for your friends long forgotten.

"When did you get here?" You ask as you walk up to the small space John had left for you at the bar. "You should have told me you were coming back! I would have stayed home," you babble setting your drink down before grabbing at him.

"I wanted to surprise you," John answers simply as he sets his drink down and reaches out his hand to grab you gently by the upper arm to pull you closer. You can smell his soap and cologne as he tugs you close and you grin as his other hand tilts your head up to look at him better, holding your face lightly as he does. "And I didn't want you having to walk all the way back to the car in those dangerously high heels." He smirks.

"Well, it worked," you breathe out as you watch him before pushing up the few centimeters left on your toes to kiss him. You can taste the cigar he had smoked on the way to the bar, as well as the tang of whiskey on his lips.

You don't care if it's indecent as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him that much closer, sighing into his mouth as his hands find your sides to hold you. His fingers are gentle in their hold, but you can feel the possessive air he gives off as his thumbs pass over your hipbones.

"Your friends are looking for you," John says after a second as you pull away deciding to not give the bar a whole show, though you know John could care less. He would let the whole world see just how you belonged to him if you told him to.

Turning your head around a bit, hands never leaving John's neck, you spot them at the vacated table looking around. You grin a bit, leaning your cheek on John's chest as he raises a single hand up to wave and catch your best friends attention when she spots him. The look of shock on her face was comical but she just nods and grabs one of your more drunk friends dragging them back from coming over to say hello. She knows exactly where this is going and being the best wingwoman she wasn't going to let anything interfere.

"Take me home?"

"Whatever you want love. We can stay with your friends if you'd like," John says. You know he's just being polite, considerate, giving that offer because he already knows your answer.

"I'd rather be with you," you answer reaching out to grab the drink he had ordered for you and down it in a few sips.

He chuckles in response finishing his own whiskey before setting down a fifty pound note from his wallet. Scooping up his suit jacket he sets it on your shoulders before digging his keys of his pocket and leading you outside. He had brought his sporty little car, the one that sat in the garage and only came out for weekend drives or fancy dinners.

As soon as he helps you in you lean down and wrench off your heels, sighing a bit in relief as he climbs in on his side. He grins at you as he starts the car before throwing it into reverse. His hand comes up on the headrest behind you, his fingers caressing the back of your neck, as he backs out of the spot.

You grin a bit watching him drive. How he manipulates the wheel casually one handed as the other shifts each gear. You know he knows exactly what he's doing to you as he drives like this. How he smirks at you when he catches you blatantly watching him and laughs along with you as he finds a long open stretch of road and pushes the gas pedal to the floor quickly shifting through each gear.

"Sweetheart, you keep looking at me like that we aren't making it home," he says after a moment as he brings the car back down to legal limits.

“Maybe I don’t want to make it home," you state as you reach over and grab his hand. It had been a few years since you rode him in the drivers seat and you found yourself suddenly wanting to do just that.

He laces his fingers with yours and doesn't let go as he shifts again, letting you help him. Suddenly his eyes dart to the rearview mirror to check for cars before he abruptly changes lanes.

John bypasses the turn that would keep leading you home and instead takes a road that twists and turns down the countryside. He’s looking for the perfect spot that has no lights so no one can see you as he pins you between him and the steering wheel.

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #captain price x reader #captain price x you #john price x reader #john price x you #the gift of gifs #answered asks #ask game #send me asks

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