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#he is CONFIRMED as a ME only event!!!!!
princeyam · 5 months
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guess who redownloaded pokemas
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mazojo · 2 years
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What is the most canon genshin impact ship and why is it kaebedo
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incorrectsibunaquotes · 8 months
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Do y’all really think Fabian would go to college in America (specifically Ohio) to chase after a girl who, while he cares for and misses her (bc lbr they also trauma bonded on top of having a thing for each other), dumped him over a letter and ghosted him? Like, yeah maybe they found each other again later in life after Anubis, but it would not be because Fabian was chasing after her. Why must we refuse to let him have dreams and a life outside of Nina?
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sssusuki · 6 months
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Me, stupidly: Oh my lord and my lanta! The romance for Kai is definitely a curveball from his character who is known as emotionally distant and cool hearted!"
The real curveball: 🚗💨
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sojo-gatoru · 5 months
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I really want to tell the hyper conservative ultra christian guy who keeps bothering me to his face that I'm gay and trans and see his head explode
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cacaitos · 3 months
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i think it's rad that juli screams and wallows so much for a god that didn't answer him at any moment except by his own impression both for his own supposed condemnation AND forgiveness.
and that not only so pressed by the made up imprsssion of the guy he made in his head he also, as his most significant and material show of love he devoted himself to the person he will never and can't ever meet again. like yeah in theory they will in heaven but in practice is living for the dead, the ever moving goal of the immutable, platonic divine.
isn't he a romantic.
#txt#and btw w paragraph 1 this ain't abt to say the the TnS god doesn't exist but that the judgement#that juli puts on himself is his own perception of his assault over god's in-story#non-presence. or non-answer at least. it's a self centered assertion tho not selfish itself#and in consequence from this first conception of his assault; that he's cursed and corrupted#bc of it is that the rest of his (in retrospect) destructive actions (that his guilt makes as if he's#irreparable and that as such he shouldtake it to the last measures that materially confirm it and thus gets#like. divinely punished for it+ that he feels he also killed thomas) unnecessary from the beginning#now that itself is not the funny part bc me saying that would be betraying one of my favorite manga works#and is in fact that it's not that he's 'forgiven' bc nobody nor god or the rest of the#friends he has said he's 'sullen' from the beginning. but that it's the realization of that fact#is what is meaningful that he realizes himself. not only by himself but by accepting others#in his heart etc.#now what's slightly more. how to say. on a doylist way more humorous is that juli has such a bizzare#personality in the first place. that others' and god's discursive voice first has to#go through HIS language and his perception of things for him to actually absorb it imo#again his (in perspective) acceptance of others' judgment that he's not sullen first kinda#have to go through God Also Says So despite the events not having any particular idk#quality from other events. not as in that the story had to be like supernatural or smth lol#but that either by effect of an author's blind spots or intentionally what's god's action and what isn't#is a bit biased lol#and then that even through the god later it's ultimately him and his estrange personality that will have a say#so IN MY OPINION and obviously not as predominantly as im implying others' voices#end up functioning as a sort of externalized Internal Dialogue.#am i making sense.#that his very real and material love for thomas he expresses through his love of god (or 'his' god) and heaven etc.
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s4pphoiduser · 1 year
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blind (2022) is driving me insane. im begging my friends to watch it but theyre either busy with exams or almost exclusively fluff/romance-watchers . i need to talk ab this w someone just hit me up or something GOD
#kdrama blind (2022)#blind 2022 spoilers#tvn ocn blind (2022)#so my theory is the same as other peoples' its confirmed that 13 yoonjae is sungjoon so im thinking sunghoon was there too (somehow idk) an#that hes 11 and jung inseong the juror is 12. 11 and 12 seem to be real brothers? bc in ep1 11 said 'go meet mom' and not 'go meet your mom#and maybe 11 and 13 escaped together after hiding under the floorboards? since sj Was adopted maybe he was taken in when the parents found#sh after they escaped together? and the thing is everyone is involved somehow so if the mother was like in a high position at the center (i#i didnt the lady at the start of ep7 for someone else) then how was sunghoon there? idk i havent gotten that far on my theory except that#hes 11. maybe they were Both adopted? so the next to die is either the lady  idr her name or the producer guy. 24 + 7 r confirmed dead now#13 is sungjoon. and inseong is def connected to this somehow like the rest of the jury. ergo my theory that hes 12. also i think the body#they found w ahn taeho's phone in ep8 is jung yoonjung's (yoonjae's older sister) bc of the necklace and the size of the skeleton. so now#they've found one body from the events of 20 years ago that happened at the center. all the jurors' kids will be killed as revenge for the#parents turning a blind eye on them as kids so theyre being punished by having their beloved children taken away from them. i think its#amazing how theyre all connected they dont know it at all. choi soongil was the only one who recognized ahn taeho (bc of the scar) and#yeom hyejin didnt know her father was sending kids to be abused and enslaved. kang youngki saw kids in numbered uniforms doing hard labor#never said a word bc keeping it a secret earned him money that he spent on his own kid who wouldve been around the same age as them.#from ep8 we see that the producer made a docu on the center and just buried it. and ofc mr baek who was the ringleader of all this.#his daughter killed on her birthday and kang youngki's daughter killed on her wedding day as retribution. im sad that ahn taeho died living#a life of guilt and fear moving around all the time but at least hes free from that now. im glad he got to apologize to 'yoonjae' for it#honestly i cant be mad at ahn taeho bc he was a survivor and a child and terrified. also is it just me or did sunghoon look disappointed#when ahn taeho confessed? like thats all the evidence i have supporting my theory that hes 11 i think. ofc theres the vibes? that he and#sungjoon have more history than the shows let on so far but if he was 11 he would be so disappointed bc he planned their escape#anyway come talk to me about this its driving me crazy
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vynegar · 2 years
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marius loves me ;;
#he AND false tears vyn came home on my first 10roll TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT#i did that in the morning half awake and after having downloaded the update on DATA bc my wifi was slow af#anyway marius and vyn love me confirmed!!!#gonna pull for luke and i'm prepared to hit pity and skip anniversary if necessary#(my main concerns are securing enough s-chips to guarantee two halloween MRs and two ancient china SSRs)#tot liveblog#i really should do something for marius and a late artem bday thing but uhhh we'll see#also idk about y'all but i'm like... not even reading the event#the amount of grinding we have to do with excavating the tomb.... like.... i do not have that kind of time#i kinda read it if the male leads are talking or if it's them all together but otherwise...#blindly tapping through as fast as possible#EDIT: I JUST GOT LUKE'S SHAPE OF YOU TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT#and lingering warmth vyn in that same 10pull#but honestly that luke card was one of my goals so TTTTTTT luke ilyyy#def going to use up that last discount 10pull with any free tears i can grind from the event#now i'm not entirely sure if i'll keep pulling until the event ssr. depends on if i'd still have enough afterwards for an anniversary card#if i need to pick only one then i'll need to decide if i want luke's desert card or marius's anniv card more. it might come down to art but#gahh now i'm thinking about the badge that comes w anniv cards. it's not enough to really sway my decision but i will still Think about it
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hoxooster · 1 year
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For anyone here who might still be out of the loop, a Christmas event has come to Payday 2 that functions similar to the Golden Piggy during this year’s Crimefest, except with more Pain. :D Seriously, the buffs the cops get drive me insane in a lot of bad ways. Jeezum Crow.
The community present counter will be updated at some unspecified time on the 16th, so keep your eyes open for that!
Also, if any of you are interested in watching any of the OVERKILL Partner streams [obviously not the ones for the 15th--sorry, guys, for being late on this], here’s the schedule and the users involved (some of them might be doing giveaways as well):
December 16th:
9AM-9PM CET - RobThanatos
3PM-9PM CET - PippaStealth
9PM-12AM CET - ZohanEnTwitch
December 17th:
9AM-3PM CET - PippaStealth
9AM-9PM CET - RobThanatos
6PM-9PM CET - ZohanEnTwitch
6PM-12AM CET - Rusty Chains
9PM-12AM CET - Red Archer Live
December 18th:
12AM-6AM CET - Rusty Chains
12PM-6PM CET - PippaStealth
6PM-9PM CET - ZohanEnTwitch
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arma-bloody-geddon · 8 months
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This scene hits so different on the rewatch.
How jolly Aziraphale is about the whole thing. I asked for a rubber duck! I made Michael miracle me a towel!
Whereas Crowley is having trauma flashbacks about Gabriel telling his only friend to Shut His Stupid Mouth And Die. The memory seems to hurt too much to say. It's another thing he hasn't told Aziraphale to protect him.
But also that that it confirmed their existing biases of Heaven and Hell. They both know Hell is wicked, that's the point of it. But only Crowley sees Heaven for what it really is, and Aziraphale wasn't there for the event that might have mad him see it.
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earthtooz · 7 months
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x : NOT JEALOUS ! :*+゚
in which: alhaitham isn't jealous, he doesn't get jealous, so what is this suffocating feeling in his chest that only happens when you're talking to another man that isn't him?
warnings: 5.4k words, jealous!alhaitham x gn!reader who has loads of rizz, university!au, fluff with angst but happy ending, pining!alhaitham who doesn't realise that he loves you, kaveh is there, mention of cyno, ooc at some bits?, swearing, alhaitham is a little bit of an asshole at some parts sawry. he's bad with feelings.
a/n: inspired by @danijaci's jealous jealous boy comic with alhaitham! hi dani if you're reading this pls don't perceive me... hides... but i hope you all like it :,)
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Alhaitham isn’t jealous. 
The uncomfortable feeling obstructing itself in his throat is just because he’s beginning to develop a sore throat- that’s all. It is flu season after all, who knows what kind of bacteria are in the air? Ones capable of lathing an uncomfortable oil that burns inside his chest, the smog crowding its way into his heart, sickening him to his core as Alhaitham can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside him.
“I’m free friday,” a voice besides you confirms.
“Okay!” you cheer, sounding a little too happy for Alhaitham’s liking. After all, it’s 9 am, who has this much energy in the morning? “lets do Friday then!”
“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye Y/n.”
“Bye, see you!” Alhaitham watches from the corner of his eye as you wave to the random stranger you’ve decided to associate yourself with before finally taking the seat beside him with a sigh. 
He doesn’t say anything to you, feeling your eyes glance at him expectantly as he stares stubbornly at the lecture board instead of acknowledging you or the jumble of feelings clogging up his diaphragm. 
“Hello, you,” You lean over slightly, careful to not invade his personal space whilst waving at him, hoping to catch his attention. He glances at you, nodding in greeting before returning to his book, the pages and rows of words only fuelling his unease he suddenly felt. He doesn’t even know where he left off, the book’s events a blur in Alhaitham’s mind.
How bothersome. What’s happening to him?
“Talkative today, aren’t you?” Your tone is playful despite his cold attitude and Alhaitham sneaks another look in your direction, noting the way your lips curve upwards. “So, how are you?” 
“I’m fine,” he murmurs, inserting a bookmark between the pages before slamming it shut, an indicator that you could keep conversing with him.
“Cool.” You tap your nails on the desks of the lecture hall. “Oh, I finished my essay the other day.”
“The one for your elective?”
You hum in agreement, “I hope I never get it back. Submitted it ten minutes before the due date.”
“You know you wouldn’t have been stressed over it if you just started it earlier-”
“I know, I know,” you huff, “spare your productivity lectures for another time, I’ll be needing them later in the semester.” The grey-haired shakes his head as you laugh, but his gaze returns to the front cover of his book as he solemnly thinks about the interaction you had with another man, right in front of him. 
(What right did he have to see you smiling so earnestly like that?)
“Who was that?” Alhaitham coughs out, barely choking down his pride in time to make space for the question.
You murmur some guy’s name that he doesn’t bother to remember. “He’s a friend of mine in the same discussion group for this course and we decided to do the assignment together. He bumped into me on the way in so we were just planning when to meet to do the research.”
“Oh.” Your answer doesn’t calm the churning in Alhaitham’s gut. Not even one bit, in fact, it makes it worse. 
But it’s not jealousy, Alhaitham doesn’t get jealous because he’s above petty feelings of inadequacy. He’s merely concerned for you, worried for your brainpower by the end of the project because your partner seems less-than-incompetent. If you’d picked someone like Alhaitham (or better yet, just picked Alhaitham), you would’ve aced the class without even blinking an eye. 
(The two of you are friends, so why didn’t you pick him? It’s literally been proven that the two of you are compatible working together since you were both executives of Sumeru’s Cultural Society, and amidst all of the activities the club has run, you’ve collaborated many times to make each event run flawlessly. So why not him? Why would you pick another man over him?)
“You know you could have picked me, I wouldn’t mind working on the assignment with you,” he grumbles, words soft but very clear.
Alhaitham misses the way your eyes widen in shock as apologies scramble out of your mouth. “I’m sorry! I automatically assumed that you wanted to work on it by yourself. Next time I’ll ask you.” 
The lecture begins before he could say anything in return and like a robot, he sets his thoughts aside and begins listening, notes document up and cursor blinking at the ready.
A mundane two hours pass by, one powerpoint slide after powerpoint slide before the lecture is finally over, much to your pleasure. Alhaitham notices the way you eagerly jump out of your seat to stretch, grabbing your bag. On the other hand, your grey-haired accomplice takes his time in packing up, forcing you to wait for him.
“Would you like to get some coffee before the meeting?” You ask.
“Sure, we can find a seat there and join it together,” he adds and you beam at him, expression bright and so enchanting that it makes him forget about all the perplexities he felt before the lecture. 
The two of you make your way to one of the many campus cafés where you practically wrestled Alhaitham to stop him from paying for both your orders (losing in the end) before sitting at a booth, your laptop set up with a pair of Alhaitham’s earphones shared between you. The meeting begins to fill up with almost all committee members, even Kaveh, who resides in his room of his and Alhaitham’s shared flat. Upon noticing him, you go to text him, with the grey-haired peeking over your shoulder from time to time to see your conversation- not that he cares that much.
(Perhaps if Kaveh glanced up from his phone, then he’d see how close Alhaitham had gotten with you, breaching the distance that he prefers to keep around others. He’d also notice the headphone sharing despite how he generally tends to keep them out of anyone else’s hands.)
You’re tasked with the role of taking notes for the meeting since Alhaitham, in your opinion, is not at all a reliable scribe. His notes tend to just include vital information and never what everyone else needs to know, yet each time you scold him for it, his unbothered expression never falters, waving your complaints off with a shrug. 
“Hey, Kaveh and I are going to go for lunch tomorrow after our classes. Care to join?” You ask, smiling at him hopefully as your messages with Kaveh sit open on your screen. Alhaitham doesn’t think twice before agreeing. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“It looks like it’s about to rain,” you murmur, pulling out a chair as Alhaitham and Kaveh take their seats opposite you. 
“So it does,” Alhaitham notes, not caring to look too long out the window before returning his gaze to you. “You have an umbrella, right?”
“I, uh, didn’t think I needed one today.”
“Do you not check the weather before you leave?”
“Not everyone’s like you, Alhaitham.” Kaveh teases. “It’s no problem, Y/n, if it rains I can walk you back to your dorm.”
“Only if you are okay with it,” you insist, “I have no problem walking home in the rain. I love the rain.”
Alhaitham intervenes with a raise of his hand. “Nonsense, you’ll catch a cold. We’ll walk you home.”
A soft but genuine ‘thank you’ slips from your lips, neither of you wiser to the way Kaveh eyes his roommate suspiciously, not missing the use of ‘we’ in his sentence and the implications the collective pronoun has. For it meant that Alhaitham is willing to take precious time out of his day to perform an act for someone that he is not indebted to do. Not that Alhaitham is inherently selfish, per se, but he is a man of routine. He wakes up every morning and takes five minutes to scribble on his stupid whiteboard in the kitchen what he has to do for the day and strictly abides by it, not even straying two minutes off schedule.
Willingly volunteering his minutes? Kaveh finds that suspicious. 
“So, how’s your architecture assignment, Kaveh?” You ask, breaking the blond from his daze whilst Alhaitham pours glasses of water for the table, starting with your cup. 
“A nightmare,” he sighs, sinking into his chair. “I still have so much to do, you know my professor didn’t like my blueprint? How ridiculous! I hope that man steps in a puddle and wets his sock.”
The grey-haired pipes up with a remark. “I can’t wait for it to be done, our living room is a mess right now.” 
“Hey, I am the one that cleans that living room, thank you very much. Your bookshelf is still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it five times.”
“If it bothers you so much then why don’t you do it yourself?”
“I’m the only one who-”
“-I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you murmur, cutting the conversation before shuffling out of your chair, seemingly eager to do so.
Kaveh turns to the grey-haired again, “and you just scared away Y/n.”
“Sorry no one wants to hear about your architecture project.”
“Y/n literally asked, asshole.”
A rebuttal sits on the tip of Alhaitham’s tongue- as it always does when it comes to bickering with his roommate, but it dies out when an intruder comes to the table. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt,” he begins, “but the person who just got up, is that your friend?”
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“Oh, I just wanted to drop this off, mind passing it over for me?” The piece of paper he was holding lands in Kaveh’s hand. “Thanks, bro.” Is all he says before strolling away, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.
The blond does not hesitate to open it up, chuckling in amusement when reading the content. “’Hey you’re cute, here’s my number’ it says. What a bitch! You didn’t like his vibes either, right, Alhaitham?”
“Hold on, what does the note say?”
Grabbing (snatching) it from Kaveh, the grey-haired has half a mind to rip the note apart, a certain sense of distaste washing over him that intensifies the long he stares at the guy’s handwriting. His eye is twitching. Why is his eye twitching?
“Hey!” He hears Kaveh call. “Don’t scrunch it, that’s Y/n’s-“
Alhaitham stuffs the ball of paper into his bag where he’ll recycle it later even though something irrational within him tells him to burn it. “Y/n won’t miss it. You said it yourself, he’s a bitch.”
“Sure, but why are you doing-“
“Hey!” You interrupt, sliding back into your chair with a grin on your face. “So, what did I miss?”
“Nothing,” the grey-haired murmurs, assuming his crossed-arm position. Kaveh side eyes his roommate before agreeing with a hum. “Let’s order something now. We want to beat the rain, right?”
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
This meeting for the Sumeru Society might have been one of the most important ones of the year thus far, with almost every committee member expected to attend. After all, the annual ball was a big event that always had the largest turnout, and the amount of planning that goes into it to ensure its success is almost triple that of its other events.
So why weren’t you here?
“Why did you leave the meeting early on Friday?” Alhaitham asks as soon as he sees you.
You pause briefly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising. It must have been the way that Alhaitham’s voice raised a pitch towards the end of the question, demonstrating a nervous break in character that was not at all typical. Cool and collected would be the defining words to describe Alhaitham, as well as someone who does not care for the menial activities of others, so what is he doing asking you? And why does he care so much?
“I, uh, had dinner with someone,” you confess, continuing to grab your books and laptop, missing the way his features contort into something un-cool, and very un-Alhaitham.
“Whom?”
You murmur the name of some other guy, who he vaguely recalls to be your project partner.
“What?” Alhaitham snaps.
“I didn’t think missing out on some of the meeting would be a big deal! I got another committee member to explain what I missed,” you justified. “Besides, there’s no big events going on right now, so I thought-”
“-That you could abandon your tasks and go have fun with someone else?”
Alhaitham’s not really sure why he said that. He’s not angry that you skipped a meeting; there are larger things in the world to worry about, he’s angry because you spent time with another guy that wasn’t him.Why not go to dinner with him instead? He spends it every night with Kaveh, and you are far more favourable than Kaveh.  
“Is it really something to get mad over? I already told you, I got the meeting notes and everything-”
“-You’re an executive of the society, Y/n, more is expected from you.”
“Seriously?” you ask, “how come you didn’t bat an eye when the vice president wasn’t there the other day?”
“Because she was sick.” 
“Okay, fine! what about the subcommittee? they’re not always there either!” 
“They’re subcom. Whether they miss a meeting or not is not crucial.”
“So, it’s just my business that you care about?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, disbelief clouding over your expression like a mask.
Again, Alhaitham doesn’t know where these punches are coming from and why he’s throwing them against you so viciously, but his heart is tightening defensively with a burning emotion that he’s been feeling more and more recently, and his first instinct is to lash out, to protect himself from it.
Perhaps it’s because foreign things that he can’t understand terrify him and you, all you ever do is make him feel things that he’s never felt before and he can’t understand why. 
“You’re not that special.”
A flash of hurt gleams in your eyes and Alhaitham knows now that he’s royally fucked up. “You’re an ass,” you grumble, about to walk away when he intercepts.
“Listen to me!”
“Fuck off!” 
“Y/n-”
You’re gone before he can get another word out, retreating figure stomping away whilst his chest weaves into knots; something that no amount of deep breathing can calm. It doesn’t help that the minute he returns home, Kaveh is onto him like some sort of parasite, curious over the tense air surrounding his normally-composed roommate. 
“Hey, welcome home- whoa, what’s gotten into you?” The blond asks.
“None of your business,” Alhaitham grumbles through gritted teeth, taking his shoes off and throwing them aside haphazardly. Kaveh doesn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s jaw is clenched, or the strain in his hand when he brings up a hand to run through his hair, or the very subtle and minute twitch in his cheek.
The blond ignores all signs that he wants to be left alone, and instead, follows the grey-haired to his room after he swung the door open. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, let’s talk about this-”
“Talk about what?” Alhaitham growls.
“Who pissed in your black coffee today?” 
“No one. Now get lost.” 
“Aw, come on, you know what they say. Getting things off your chest is always beneficial.”
“There’s nothing on my chest, go away.”
“You sure? no stress, no deadlines, no love interest making you tear your hair out-”
“-No, no, none of those!”
“Then what?”
Alhaitham steadies himself by resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he exhales loudly. “I got pissed and took it out on Y/n, who’s mad at me now.”
“Huh? Why so annoyed?”
“Because Y/n went to dinner with another man.”
It’s silent for a while. The sassy quip that he expects from Kaveh does not happen. Instead, the blond merely smiles, a satisfied, knowing grin that slightly irks him. “You know, I’ve been waiting for the day you realise you have feelings for Y/n.” 
“What? Where did you get that conclusion from?” Alhaitham sits up straighter. There are a lot of things he knows, and he knows for sure that he does not like you in any way beyond platonic. He doesn’t have any time to spare for love. There are scholarships he still needs to apply for, internships to be interviewed for, research projects to submit- nowhere amongst the minute hand of the clock is there space for love. 
“Oh come on,” Kaveh sits down on the bed beside his roommate, leaning back on his hands. “You’re not as smooth as you hope to be sometimes.”
“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Y’know the sooner you accept you have feelings for Y/n, the easier life will be.”
“Life is already easy and there is no sooner because I don’t like Y/n like that. Now get lost. I have stuff I need to finish.”
Kaveh shrugs, standing up with a soft ‘suit yourself’, taking seven steps before he’s out of the room. Alhaitham lets out a sigh that has lodged itself in his throat for too long, and the feeling of reprieve he gets is short-lived before he’s flooded with a certain tightness again. Maybe he did have a weight on his chest after all, not that he’d ever admit it to himself or Kaveh.
He gets up from his made bed with a grunt and decides to push aside all distractions. Time is unforgiving, and if doesn’t finish his assignment by this Friday then he’ll be a little less than pleased.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Alhaitham feels like he can’t breathe. 
You’re sitting alone at a library desk, all focused and concentrated on your laptop screen with your headphones on, blocking out any outside voice as you type away. He wonders if he should say hi, maybe try apologising for the way he acted last Monday- who is this guy that’s approaching you and why does he look so familiar? 
And why are you smiling so happily?
You beckon to the seat beside you and the guy readily complies, taking the chair beside you like he belonged there, like there weren’t other candidates that should be there instead (he’s not talking about himself. definitely not).
He hands you one of two coffee cups he’s holding. What kind of right does this guy have to give you a coffee? Does he even know your order?
He feels like a bit of creep keenly watching you interact with someone else from a balcony of the library, but the book and laptop in front of him lies forgotten, and in a rare moment of weakness, Alhaitham can’t find it in himself to return to his tasks, pursuit of knowledge momentarily forgotten. He can’t push aside the bile that threatens to rise, he can’t loosen his grip on the couch’s armrest, and he can’t blink for a second in fear of losing you from his sight.
(You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? How can you look so pretty laughing and why doesn’t he ever get to make you laugh like this?)
Alhaitham is losing his damn mind. So much so that the first thing he does when he sees you again is corner you. 
“You shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.”
You’re backed against the brick walls of the time-worn building that your shared lecture always takes place in, and Alhaitham, spotting you like a hawk, put you in this precarious position as soon as the two hours were over. 
He can’t breathe. It’s been almost three weeks since you last spoke to him and you’re staring up at him like you’ve done nothing wrong, blinking once and twice at his uncharacteristic display of subtle aggression. 
“Who?” you mutter, shaking your head to try and grasp reality once again. you hug your laptop closer to your body. “What’s this about?”
“I said you shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.” 
“What guy?” 
“Your project partner.”
“Really?” you mutter in disbelief.
He nods, teal eyes shining at you firmly. “Really. The project’s over, you don’t need to talk to him anymore.” 
“I don’t recall ever giving you the right to dictate who gets to be in my life or not, just like how you can’t tell me what to do with my time.” 
“I’m looking out for you, so stop trying to make me sound tyrannical.” 
Your mouth hangs open as you furrow your eyebrows, growing more and more frustrated with each second. So much for thinking that he wanted to resolve the awkwardness between the two of you. “I’m not even going to argue with you,” you murmur a quick ‘jerk’ under your breath before brushing past him. 
Alhaitham, however, is not willing to let you go as easily as you wish, quick to chase after you. Not that you go far anyways, turning around to face him again in the spaciousness of the vacant hallway. “Why do you care?” You ask, exasperated. “You’re Alhaitham, you don’t let trivial things like who I hangout with bother you, you’re cool and collected and rational, and I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”
He doesn’t understand either, not the erratic beating of his heart, the stubbornness of his mind, nor this undisputable urge to keep you all to himself. Is it normal to want to hide someone for selfish reasons?
Trailing off, Alhaitham is slightly humiliated that for the first time in his life, someone has witnessed him coming short of an answer. No logical conclusion, no explanation, not even a satisfying quip, just plain, suffocating silence.
“Right. When you do have an answer, let me know.” You walk away.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Your last rebuttal still weighs heavily on Alhaitham’s mind, even two days later as he and Kaveh are seated for a lecture in a shared course. His thoughts are scrambled like never before, the messiness of it all making him feel uneasy because for once, he doesn’t have an appropriate answer to a question.
Why was he acting like a temperamental teenager? What you did with your life was up to you, and indeed he has no right trying to change that. More importantly, why was it so hard to apologise for the stuff he said-
“So, how’s everything between you and Y/n?” 
Kaveh turns to him with widened eyes whilst Alhaitham’s poker face doesn’t move an inch, deceivingly apathetic.
“Good, we’ve been hanging out a lot more recently,” the other guy says, who Alhaitham quickly recognises to be your project partner and distaste rises in his stomach like bile. 
“Aye, good for you, man! So when are you going to ask Y/n out?”
“No way, bro, not yet. I’m such a wimp, but I hope I grow the balls to ask soon because I really like-”
“-looks like you got some competition!” The blond nudges Alhaitham, and if it were anyone else, they would not have glanced twice at the grey-haired who seemed unmoving and uninterested. However, Kaveh is not anyone else because he noticed the darkened look in Alhaitham’s eyes instantly, anger seeping into his composed gaze as his nose scrunches in disgust. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“So, you and Alhaitham still aren’t talking?” Kaveh asks, leaning on the table of the restaurant with curious ears, hoping that he can grab some answers out of you as to why there was a stalemate between you and his roommate.
“Nope,” you sigh. 
“Why not?”
“I’m just-” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m just waiting on an apology from him.”
“An apology? Why? What did he say?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“You know how he is. Always insufferably secretive, so no, I don’t know anything that happened.” 
“Alhaitham just said some hurtful things to me, and he was being weird when I told him I was going to dinner with a friend of mine. Just kept being in my business.”
“Really?” The architecture student quirks a brow, confusion plastered on his face. “That’s not like Alhaitham at all.”
“I know, right? He kept trying to be like ‘don’t hang out with him’ and ridiculed me for not playing my part as an executive of the Sumeru society,” you complained, “like sorry I have other things I want to do.”
Kaveh nods in understanding as the conversation briefly stops when the waiter comes to drop off utensils at your table. As soon as they were gone, however, you begin again.
“And even though he was all up in my business, trying to tell me what not to do, he then said that I wasn’t special, which is so confusing because like-”
“-hold on. Alhaitham said that you weren’t special?” You nod at his parroted claim. “To him?” 
“Yeah. Stung like shit when he said that, especially since I thought we were friends but guess not,” you murmur sadly, fiddling with the fork.
Later that night, almost immediately after meeting you over dinner, Kaveh barges into his roommate’s room, not even changing out of his outside clothes. The sudden intrusion shocks Alhaitham who was busy typing on a document, textbook splayed open beneath him but momentarily forgotten as the blond takes a seat on the bed.
“What the- not even a hello?” The grey-haired asks, confused by this uncharacteristic silence of Kaveh’s. It’s pretty normal for the blond to barge into his room without notice, but it was not normal for him to be so quiet, practically brooding on the mattress. “Whatever. Where have you been? Have you eaten yet, because I made-”
“When will you just confess to Y/n?”
The mention of your name causes a spike in Alhaitham’s heartbeat and he swivels around instantly, attention fully directed towards his roommate. “Where is this coming from?”
“Y/n told me everything that happened between you two by the way-��
“-what, when?”
“Tonight, we just met for dinner.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“What would you have done if you knew? Showed up and made things worse?” He doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely shutting his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows. “Why did you say that Y/n wasn’t special to you?” 
“I didn’t,” Alhaitham sighs, very loud and very perplexed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.”
“Don’t you miss Y/n? You two used to hangout so often.”
“I do, of course I do!” He exclaims, burrowing his face in his hands. 
“So why aren’t you apologising?” 
“Because whenever I’m around Y/n, I’m not who I normally am,” he mutters, “especially everything whenever that project partner is around-”
“Jealous, much?”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Oh come on, you’re ridiculous. Stop pushing away your feelings and just be honest with yourself, Alhaitham! Y/n is not just a friend to you and you know it.”
“But, we are just friends-”
“So you mean to tell me that if I hung out with someone else- like if I hung out with Cyno, you would be pissed?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Then why is it different with Y/n?” Once again, Alhaitham doesn’t have an answer to the question, sitting as still as a statue hunched over his desk. “Fine, I’ll spell it out to you. You like Y/n, more than just a friend!”
The silence leftover from Kaveh’s outburst is tense and full as the grey-haired lets the words sink in. 
“I’ll let you think about it,” the blond murmurs, voice softening dramatically as he stalks out of the room. Before he closes the door, however, he leaves a few final words. “Just- be honest with yourself, Alhaitham, and I wouldn’t delay trying to talk to Y/n.”
A sharp click rings through the room.
Alhaitham is no stranger to being alone, for who needs the company of others when you are happiest by yourself? Yet, in the weeks that you have not been speaking to him, a cardinal urge as been growing each and each day, wanting him to do something so atypical of him: to reach out and make the first move. Every passing day doesn’t lessen the thoughts that plague his mind, rather, they make him more and more impatient, because what if you get swept away by your project partner? 
(What if he’ll be too late? What if you won’t know of these powerful emotions that are steering through the storm in his heart? What if you won’t know just how badly he was been wanting you- wanting to see you, wanting to apologise, wanting to see you beam at him like you always would.
What if you won’t know that he adores you, especially now that he’s figured it out?).
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
A rain droplet falls and lands on your nose, another lands on your forehead, then another lands on your lip then more and more keep falling from the cloudy sky, falling through the leaves and landing on the bench you were currently sitting on. Goodness, you should have checked the weather before leaving your dorm. Why was it now out of all times that it had to rain, what would Alhaitham think after he finally decided to reach out to talk?
Taking your phone out to message the grey-haired about relocating, an umbrella is suddenly held over you, stopping the gentle drizzle from falling onto you. Looking up, you’re greeted by a familiar face that you have been missing too much recently.
“Hello, you,” you breathe, voice gentle and quiet and Alhaitham feels like he can finally breathe after so long, the scent of rain washing away all perplexion.
He nods at you in greeting before offering you the bouquet of flowers he was holding. A gorgeous arrangement of pink of white stare prettily at you and a man even more gorgeous expects you to accept it.
“For me?” You ask.
“For you.”
“Thank you, they’re so beautiful,” you take his gift with gentle hands, holding it close to your chest. 
“I want to apologise,” he firmly states, getting straight to the point; very Alhaitham of him. “For treating you the way I have been recently.”
You beam at him, so bright and so gorgeous that it renders him speechless, a feat pretty difficult when it comes to someone like Alhaitham who has a whole dictionary of words, in multiple languages too. Somehow, they all flock out of his mind the second you smile at him.  
“I accept your apology, thank you for reaching out, must have been hard for someone like you, huh?” You tease, standing up from the bench.
“Well, I had do for someone as special as you.” The grey-haired’s voice is deceivingly confident and assured, but you know better, especially when he looks away to hide his expression with his neatly styled bangs. 
“No need for the flattery, you know, I’ve already forgiven you.” There’s a moment of silence that occupies the air, caused by Alhaitham’s hesitation as he fishes his brain for the courage to ask you out. You speak before he can get a word out, however. “I got asked out the other day.”
“By your groupmate?”
“He has a name, you know, but, yeah. I rejected him, though,” you laugh awkwardly, almost like you were trying to cope with it by playing it off. “Did you know that he would do that?” 
“Yes. I did.”
“Is that why you were so adamant on me not hanging out with him?”
“I guess you could say that. We can talk more about it another time,” he tells you, voice gentle and caring to mask the subtle hit of jealousy he feels in his chest, scolding himself for letting someone else confess to you before him. However, it’s a minute sensation in comparison to the triumph Alhaitham feels knowing that you rejected the other party. 
“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
“We do, but I want to ask you something first.” 
You nod, hugging the bouquet closer to your chest, anticipation heavy in the air as you spur him to continue. 
“If I asked you out, would you reject me too?”
A mere second passes by where you don’t respond, yet the second stretches out to what feels like eternity as Alhaitham’s stomach churns. Patience is something he doesn’t lack, but how can he be patient when his heart wants you so bad? 
Then, you take his hand, and the heavens sing at the feeling of your hand in his. “I wouldn’t, but are you asking me out?”
“Are you free right now?”
“I am. Why?”
“Let’s go out then. On a date.”
“I'd love to.” You rise up to place a lingering kiss on his cheek, one that has his heart racing with joy rather than frustration.
The smile you earn is gentle, shy, but says more than Alhaitham's words ever can.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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kingkonoha · 6 months
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THE FANBOY GUIDE!
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˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ ˊ˗ fanboy!gojo x celebrity!reader
˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ୨୧ ˊ˗ gojo, one of your biggest fans, has the chance to finally meet you. however, he hopes to also accomplish his number one dream: to fuck his idol.
˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ୨୧ ˊ˗ 18+ ONLY // MINORS DNI - (switch!gojo, creampie, oral f!receiving, riding) fem!reader, no curses au.
˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐀/𝐍: ୨୧ ˊ˗ gojo has been on my mind, & this is the result! header concept inspired by @kazushawty’s cyber theme.
˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ୨୧ ˊ˗ 4K
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THANK YOU FOR YOUR PURCHASE, SATORU. ENJOY THE EVENT!
The blue-eyed man blinked at his bright computer screen, which displayed his emailed receipt from Ticketmaster. In the left pocket of his black sweatpants — which he wore despite the summer heat at this time of year — his phone buzzed to alert him of a fat sum of money being taken out of his bank account.
“Holy shit,” he mumbled to himself.
He refreshed the page. And he refreshed it once more.
But after two lengthy scrolls through the confirmation email, there was no denying it.
He was going to meet you.
Gojo’s long fingers clicked away at his mouse and keyboard until he landed on his rather popular fan blog. To say that he was a member of your fandom would be an understatement, as he practically ruled over all of your supporters and gave true meaning to his username, kinggojo.
Even as a busy high school teacher and martial arts instructor — perhaps, entrepreneur as well, being as he owned his own martial arts school — he still carved out some time every single day to post about you. Watch your videos. Study your latest professional photoshoots and off-guard paparazzi shots.
And soon, a little plastic backstage pass will dangle around his neck, giving him undenied access to you.
The real you.
kinggojo: guess who’s finally gonna meet y/n? (:
At the airport, Gojo spent his time FaceTiming Nanami, who had to endure his rambunctious ramblings while on his lunch break.
“Give me one year,” Gojo paused, glancing down at his phone, “one year, and I swear, she’s gonna become my wife.”
“I don’t care,” Nanami chewed on his sandwich. “Please leave me alone.”
“Yeahhh, you’re just jealous.” As Gojo grinned goofily, the salaryman promptly ended the video chat.
While Gojo would have dialed him back repeatedly until he gave in and answered, Nanami had lucked out, as it was time for him to board his plane.
The plane ride was nothing short of exhilarating. Gliding through the air as a first-class passenger, he counted down the minutes until he’d finally see your charming smile in person.
Naturally, he had to splurge for an occasion as special as this one.
The best seats on the plane, the nicest hotel room in the city — he wished he could personally thank the spoiled geniuses who invented valet parking and free drinks for first-class passengers.
Although his bank account had seen better spending days, he was perfectly fine with eating cheap styrofoam cups of chicken flavored ramen once he got back home from his trip.
In his hotel room the night before his Big Day, Gojo gathered everything he might have needed along with his ironed outfit, and hung it up in the closet. He took his time with making sure he’d look especially sharp come morning, as he wanted to look good for you.
Good enough for you to fuck him.
Call him crazy. Overly optimistic. But he had a goal; an accomplishable dream that made his dick harden against the fabric of his pants whenever he thought about having hot, creamy sex with you — his number one idol.
As he crawled into bed and lazily stroked his cock, painting his fist white as the pearly ropes of cum spurted out of him, he thought about what it would be like if his wildest dream came true.
At the meet and greet, Gojo stood around backstage with all of the other fans, and one of them even knew about his blog. They all chatted about you, occasionally interrupting themselves to mumble a quick “I’m so nervous,” before talking about another topic, and Gojo couldn’t help but have pity for them.
He was nervous as well, of course, but even more so, he was determined.
And when you stepped through the door, smiling once your prosperous groupies shrieked and squealed, Gojo had finally understood what authors meant when they wrote about love at first sight.
You were more beautiful than he could have imagined. Even more gorgeous than in your pictures somehow. He was certain that you even glanced his way, but he couldn’t prove it.
“There she is,” Gojo said to no one in particular, not even completely aware that the words had fallen from between his lips, but a woman standing next to him spoke up.
“I can’t believe this is really happening!” She shook her hands out of pure excitement. “I hope she’ll sign my merch!”
Precious.
Some people had hopes and dreams as simple as that one. The taller man was certain that if he confessed his own hopes, they’d laugh at him.
Or worse, get him kicked out of the meet-and-greet completely.
But he didn’t have time to worry about what anyone else hoped to gain out of your event, not when the queue was moving rather quickly, and he found himself biting his lower lip and shifting his weight.
He was growing more and more nervous with every second that passed by. It was the ultimate countdown until he’d finally meet you.
Soon enough, it was his turn.
“Hi,” you beamed kindly at the handsome stranger, “how are you?”
How cute.
Your sweet, customer service tone made his heart skip a beat, and while he wanted to revel in the fact that he was meeting you and you were speaking to him, he couldn’t think too much about it. He couldn’t risk losing his cool.
“I’m better now that I’ve met you,” Gojo smiled, pulling out his phone to take the one photo he was promised in his package deal. “How are you doing? Having fun?”
You tilted your head a bit, and it occurred to Gojo that most fans probably didn’t bother to ask about your day, or your feelings.
“I’m great, thanks. You’re really kind for asking that!” You smiled. “What pose would you like to do, honey?”
Gojo melted inside. He knew the term was simply meant to make your fans feel more special than they actually were, but even so, he’d never forget the sound of you saying that to him.
Suddenly, Gojo wrapped one arm around your waist, pulled you against his side, and he raised his phone before snapping a photo with you.
Before he pulled away, he whispered into your ear, “there’s something really sweet about the way you called me honey just now.”
“O-Oh,” you stammered, looking down at your feet, the stranger’s warm breath against your ear made your cheeks warm up. “I just call everyone honey.”
“Of course, I’m just saying that I liked it. You’re just…” Gojo paused, looking you up and down, “pretty cute, aren’t you?”
Looking up at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read, you said, “are you flirting with me?”
Gojo glanced at your security guard. The buff guy was more interested in the complimentary buffet than your protection, and Gojo took a step closer, hearing a jealous groan from the line of fans behind him.
“Maybe,” A small smirk appeared across Gojo’s face. “How would you feel if I was?”
“I’d probably have to just . . . ask you to leave.”
“There’s no need, sweetheart,” Gojo said softly, “I’m running out of time anyway. But that’s no way to treat a fan, is it?”
You gulped. You stared deeply into his eyes.
“You’re, um,” you said shakily, “you’re allowed to hug me before you go . . . if you want.”
“Come here, then.”
The tall man wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. The hug lasted longer than it should have.
“I’d love to spend more time with you,” Gojo whispered. “Maybe some other time.”
As he pulled away, you felt him slip something into your pocket.
“It was nice meeting you,” you said.
He left without another word.
Your meet-and-greet lasted for two entire hours after that, and throughout every single interaction with a fan of yours, you couldn't help but wonder what the handsome man slipped into your pocket.
Finally, as your event came to an end, you reached into your pocket and found a yellow sticky note.
Written on it was an address, a hotel room number, and his name.
Any sane person who valued their safety and their life would have ignored it. Toss the note in the trash. But you found yourself standing outside of his hotel room door, and for the first time in your entire life, you were nervous about meeting a fan.
You knocked on the door, your breath shaky as you did so.
“This is insane,” you thought.
Half of you wanted to run away before he answered. The other half of you wanted to stay.
But, before you could truly decide, he opened the door, standing there with a genuine look of surprise.
“Huh,” Gojo smirked, stepping to the side to let you into his room. “You actually came.”
It was all an act; the cool, calm, and collected aura was a cover-up, for underneath it all, he was a mess of a man.
The sweaty palms that he secretly tried to wipe off on his pants. His throat dried to a crisp no matter how many bottles of water he downed before you knocked on his hotel room door, which was idiotic, because he ended up spending the last thirty minutes before your scheduled arrival running back and forth to the bathroom to pee.
However, after years of flashing a false smile in front of a classroom packed with moody teenagers during his darkest days, and dishonestly congratulating his martial arts students even when their kicks were less than splendid to encourage them and see them beam with confidence, Gojo had considerable expertise when it came to acting.
Of course, he was nervous.
It was you.
Even so, as his heart pounded rapidly inside of his chest, he was beyond thrilled about what was to come.
And who was to come.
“I knew you’d be surprised. I'm surprised as well.” Shutting the door after you entered his unexpectedly luxurious hotel room, you gulped, your eyes failing to meet his bright blue ones. “I don’t normally do stuff like this.”
“Sleep with fans?” Raising an eyebrow, Gojo’s cocky smirk turned into a rather kind smile.
“Yeah.”
“Well then, I’m honored. I mean, just getting to meet you was something I wanted for a long time. And to know you’re actually gonna let me ruin you?” Slowly, he leaned in, placing a soft kiss against your cheek. “It’s a dream come true.”
“Are you really a fan of me?” You gave him a look of disbelief.
“Of course I am,” he mumbled. “Why? You don’t believe me?”
“You could have pretended to be a fan to get my attention or something, I don’t know.” You shrugged shyly, which was the cutest thing Gojo had probably ever seen. His cheeks started to burn from grinning so much.
“Trust me,” Gojo suddenly pressed his palm against your jaw, running his thumb across your cheek, stroking you delicately as if he were touching fragile flower petals. “I’ve watched every single video that you’ve ever posted, seen almost every photo, liked every tweet, and ignored all of your typos. I’ve read every single piece of fanfiction about you that I’ve come across online. Tried to write my own one time. It was shit, but still. I’m not really the kinda guy who likes to label myself, but if I’m not your biggest fan, then I don’t know who is.”
When he ran his thumb over your mouth, pulling down on your soft bottom lip ever so gently, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to actually kiss you.
He wanted to do it.
Desperately.
Moonlit nights spent warm in his bed were when he alternated between his top five favorite scenarios, daydreaming about your first kiss as he drifted off to sleep. And, now, he would have the chance to feel your pillowy lips against his — and, god — they felt so perfect against his digit, he ended up chewing on his own bottom lip as he touched yours.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips. “Please?”
“You’re my biggest fan, apparently, so you can do whatever you’d like.”
He pressed his lips against yours. Every single First Kiss! cliche he had seen in movies and read about in books — going on about fireworks and such — had a bit of truth to it, because when your buttery lips touched his, he instantly melted into the kiss.
It was as if he was born for the sole purpose of kissing you — like a god created his mind, body, and soul for that specific reason.
He moaned; it was strange, yet familiar, as he never made such a delicious, sinful noise whenever he kissed someone.
But then again, during late-night hookups with unsatisfying women, he wasn’t one to typically make any sort of noise.
Apparently, he only ever moaned if it had something to do with you.
Whether he was jerking off to your bikini photos on Instagram, or kissing you, as it would seem, only you could elicit such a beautiful sound from him.
And he wasn’t complaining. Not one bit.
“Gojo,” you mumbled softly against his lips. “Don’t be such a gentleman.”
“Trust me, I’m not.” Gojo's mouth hovered over yours as he spoke. “You have no idea how badly I wanna toss you on that bed right now. I just need to take my time with you and enjoy every minute. I’ve waited too long for this to happen, and I’m not gonna rush it.”
Despite his words, when he reconnected your lips, he kissed you hungrily.
Hurriedly.
His tongue entered your mouth as his hand held onto the back of your neck. It was such a messy kiss, but a passionate one as well, and only a man like Gojo could pull off both with a simple swirl of his tongue, which battled against yours.
And your mouth tasted absolutely delicious. He could hardly wait to taste your pussy as well, wondering how it could compare.
When Gojo’s other hand suddenly gripped your ass, a little gasp escaped from you, and he took that god-given opportunity to deepen the kiss.
If he could have his mouth attached to yours like this forever, wet tongues darting around as you swallowed each other’s moans, he would.
He didn’t want to pull apart to breathe, didn’t want to pause for even a moment and detach his lips from yours, but he did.
He pulled away, but only so he could leave kisses along your jawline.
“Gojo,” you whined, lifting your neck to give the tall man full access to your sensitive skin.
And when those skillful lips of his found that sweet spot right underneath your jaw, he licked and sucked at it as if he’d absolutely die if he didn’t.
“You’re whining like that just from me giving you a little hickey?” Gojo mumbled against your wet skin. “Now I’m curious about the kinda noises you’ll make once I eat your pussy. I won’t lie; I’m pretty excited.”
“Then just do it already,” whining once more, you gripped his shoulders as he started to make his way down your neck, leaving kisses across your collarbone.
“Patience,” Gojo said.
And when he spoke, he spoke as if he wasn’t truly freaking out on the inside.
His idol was desperate for him.
If he didn’t believe in luck before, he surely did now.
Gojo’s large hands, which were formerly roaming your body, pulled your top off swiftly, including your bra. If only he could take your bra with him as a souvenir.
It took all of his strength to not drool at the sight of your hard nipples.
God, were they perfect.
They were certainly magnificent enough to make any previous plans for having patience and taking his time with you flutter out of his lustful mind, as only a few seconds after removing your shirt, you were laying on the bed with Gojo hovering over your tits. He bit his lip in anticipation.
“Can I suck on them?” He asked, his eyes never once glancing away from your chest. “Please?”
“Yes-”
You were interrupted by a sudden gasp falling from your lips, as Gojo attached his mouth to your hard nipple as soon as you mumble that simple little word.
“Hmm,” he moaned.
First, he licked at your nipple while flicking your other one with his finger. Then, he took it into his mouth, sucking on it as he listened to your soft moans, which was a sound he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.
Repeating his actions with your other nipple, he smiled against your tit when you suddenly ran your hand through his hair.
As badly as he wanted to fuck you, the thought of simply laying on your chest on a lazy Sunday afternoon as you ran your fingers across his scalp sounded like a dream.
It sounded like love.
He wanted that with you too.
Gojo took off your pants. He took off his shirt.
Then, he left a trail of kisses down your stomach until he made his way in between your legs. Having the honor of looking at your pussy was comparable only to walking through the golden gates of Heaven.
“What a pretty pussy,” he whispered to himself, running his thumb along your wet folds.
Like a starved man diving into a Thanksgiving dinner, Gojo spread your lips apart, and started to lick your clit.
Even with your back arched, fingers running through his hair as you moaned and moaned, Gojo was certain that he was enjoying it even more.
The hand that was formerly holding the wet lips of your pussy open made its way down to his dick, and he rubbed his clothed dick while moaning against your sensitive button, which he licked at rapidly with his wet tongue.
“Hmm, oh — baby,” he moaned and moaned.
“Gojo,” you whimpered.
He looked up at you through those long eyelashes of his. He was actually going to make you cum all over his tongue.
Excitement ran through his veins like a drug. He attached his lips to your clit, sucking on it until your delicious juice flooded his mouth.
“Oh my god,” you squealed, thrashing around as he refused to snatch himself away from your pussy. Not until all of your creamy mess was all licked up.
Wasting even a drop of your cum was an outright sin. One he would never forgive himself over.
He detached himself from your pussy with a little smack, licking his lips as he sat up.
Gojo started to unbuckle his belt. “You ready?”
You nodded, but once he pulled his pants down, the sight of his large cock made you gulp.
But you should have known.
He was tall. Large hands. Large feet. Large cock, of course.
Gojo pressed his tip against your folds, rubbing the head of cock up and down your wet hole, collecting your juices as he worked his way from your hole to your clit repeatedly.
The very split second in which his cock was pressed against your entrance was a telltale sign that you had never taken a dick that was as big as his.
It managed to put your past partners to shame.
And your purple dildo too.
“It’s too big,” you whined, blinking up at him.
“Don’t worry, I got you,” Gojo rested his hard member against your hole. “I’m gonna make it fit, baby. You’re gonna be a good girl for me and take it, right?”
You were getting impatient. The urge to feel him fill you up was undeniably strong, but also, his urge to take his time with you was equally as powerful.
“Only if you be a good fanboy for me,” you frowned, “and put it in.”
“I had no idea you’d be so impatient,” Gojo smiled, but even so, he still didn’t move. Not yet.
“Don’t tease me,” you said.
“Tease you?” Gojo ran his hand along your thigh, and your frown deepened. “I’m just taking my time. Not my fault you’re so-”
“Maybe I should’ve picked another fan.”
Gojo suddenly shoved himself inside of you.
Screw how much he wanted to savor the moment. If you wanted to be fucked right now, fast and hard, then he’d do it. He’d do anything for you.
After kindly letting your pussy adjust to his size, he increased his speed.
The bed squeaked from his thrusts. He pressed his forehead against yours, his warm breath patting against your face as he moaned softly.
“Faster,” you wrapped your arms around his neck.
Oh, did he obey.
He not only fucked you at a harsher speed, but he repositioned himself so that he could thrust in and out of you roughly.
He anticipated the noise complaint he’d receive from the hotel staff already. Not that he cared. He didn’t care about anything except for how good your pussy felt around his cock, and as his moans increased in volume, all of his thoughts slowly fluttered out of his pretty little head.
He couldn’t focus on anything aside from the pleasure.
He just loved you so much. Your content had changed him as a person, shaped his life into something worth living, and now, here he was, thriving in the utter pleasure you gave him. It melted away his cocky attitude, and he gripped the sheets until his knuckles turned white.
“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” Gojo said. “I . . . god, I need . . .”
He was begging for something and nothing at the same time, just so desperate and pathetic for you, you, you.
Suddenly, you pushed on Gojo’s shoulders.
“Let’s switch,” you bit your lip. “I wanna ride you.”
He could have cried. You wanted to ride him? Only a fool would turn down that opportunity, and he was quickly on his back as you climbed over him.
“That’s it, pretty baby. Get on top of me.” His large hands gripped your perfect ass, and instantly, he dreaded the very moment when he’d have to eventually let go. His eyes — which glistened with lust without any decency and excitement without any substances — darted down to your wet hole sinking his aching cock. “Oh — put it in. Put it in.”
“Now who’s impatient?” You smirked, but you couldn’t tease him for long, as when his big cock entered you, your mouth flung open with utter shock over how full you felt.
Perhaps, it was foolish to believe that his size was something you’d get used to after he pounded your pussy into oblivion moments before.
Slowly, but surely, you started to bounce up and down along his length. Those bright eyes of his, which were now fixated on your beautiful boobs, fluttered closed as he tossed his head back.
“Oh my fucking god,” he moaned. “Feels so damn good. You’re so perfect, you know that? Keep bouncing on my cock, baby. Just like that.”
He went on and on, more heartfelt words pouring out of his mouth with every jolt of your body.
“I’m so obsessed with you,” he continued, “I can’t lose you after this, I can’t. I can’t, baby. You’re fucking me so good, please…”
He whimpered, which was utterly shocking to him, but it made your walls clench around his dick. His desperation turned you on in unimaginable ways, as now, he was revealing his true colors underneath the false chill and cool persona, and he was nothing more than a pathetic, cute, little fanboy.
“I love you,” a tear slipped down his cheek from utter delight. “I love you so much. Stay with me, I’ll do anything. I want you all to myself.”
“So, so, devoted to me, huh?” You said breathlessly, yet sweetly.
Truth be told, his cock felt so wonderful thrusting in and out of you, it would have been entirely unshocking if you ended up being addicted to him as well.
“I’m gonna cum-” Gojo wrapped his arms around your waist, bucking his hip up to fuck you as deeply as possible. “I’m so close — I’m right there. I can’t hold it, sweetheart, I-I can’t keep it in much longer.”
“Cum for me, Gojo.” You whispered. “Be good for your little idol, yeah? Tell me how much you wanna cum.”
“So badly,” he swallowed thickly, beads of sweat forming across his forehead, his white hair sticking to his salty skin. He was starting to become dizzy from the way your pussy worked on his cock. He couldn’t hold himself back. “I . . . Oh fuck.”
White ropes of his creamy cum exploded out of his dick, shooting inside of you with such urgency and desperation, that a light shade of pink dusted across his cheeks from utter embarrassment.
The white-haired man’s cock twitched. It throbbed until every last drop of semen filled your insides, and broken moans poured out of his throat.
“So much of it,” he softly whined, burying his reddened face in your neck. “I’m sorry.”
His cum spilled out of your pussy. It trickled down until it drenched the white sheets underneath you both, but Gojo’s hips continued to lazily buck up, sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin as he fucked his cum right back inside of you.
After taking a few moments to catch your breaths, you and Gojo were right back at it, going round after round until the sun rose, marking the very next day.
The teacher, who had fallen asleep somewhere around 5 A.M., awakened with a shiver shooting up his spine from the chilly hotel room air. And it made sense why, as he was completely naked.
But when he realized that you weren’t in bed with him, nor were your clothes tangled up on the ground along with his, he frowned.
Was it a dream? No. He knew it really happened. Perhaps, he was a fool to think that you’d stay with him, that you both would wake up together and shower before ordering some breakfast via room service.
You were a celebrity, he was simply a fan, and there was no hope for-
Suddenly, a yellow sticky note fell off of Gojo’s chest.
Written on it was your phone number, and a little heart.
When Gojo returned home two days later, he collapsed in his rolling chair, exhaling a deep breath followed by an airy laugh.
Even as he opened his laptop and logged onto his blog, he couldn’t believe his luck. The ultimate fanboy, he was.
Half of him contemplated the idea of creating a guide for every other hopeful man with an appetite geared exclusively towards their idol, but in his gut — which twisted with excitement whenever he thought about you creaming all over his cock so deliciously — he knew that he was simply a lucky man.
A lottery winner. The chosen one.
Even if he got an imaginary Master’s Degree in the study of Banging-Your-Idol, and went on to write nonfiction self-help books to aid all of his followers, they would all still fail to accomplish what he did.
However, even if he couldn’t create a guide to help out every other horny and helpless individual, he could still do one thing.
Brag.
And with that, after taking a screenshot of the recent notification that appeared across his screen — showing that your popular, verified account had followed him back — he started typing.
kinggojo: hey guys (: none of you are gonna believe what just happened…
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♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!
♡ 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 & 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!
🏷: @downforsanji @robynnnhooddd @ritsatoru @natalie-san @mikkies @sunjayist @blkwriters @shigemis0ra @whippedbyikemen @arizzu @staubmotte @mokonasenpaiposts @whats-humanity-lol @mbappesgirlfriend @satoruscurse @bear-likes-mushrooms @rinxgojo @arcswonderland @torusmochi @huang-the-geek @ivytears @salmasalamoon @ackachii @ploylulla @1989-taylors @heiixou @roronoaswifey @yourmumsthings @brownskin-bunny @arisucat @dreamtravelersade @hottiewifeyyyy @levin4nami @dazailover1900 @gojomaki @chosogatitos @hoshigaby @trawberry-fire @potofstewie @mx-mekla
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Glitter Bug - Max Verstappen
Summary: Media and fans begin to notice that Max seems to always have a dusting on glitter on him recently. But where is it coming from?
Also for context, this is not based around any real race events of this season or previous season. I'm just making stuff up for excitement.
No part 2 requests please
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"Oh Max, you got a bit of-you've got a dusting of glitter on you." The interviewer comments as he walks into the media pen after qualifying.
"Must be from the fan celebrations." Max dismisses seeming to think nothing of it before he speaks up again. "I think I walked through a cloud of glitter from some little fans."
Lies but for now he thinks it'll work as a cover for now.
"You looked great out there, good pace. How did it feel?"
"Good, unexpectedly good. But I'll make the most of it tomorrow and see what results we can get." Max states earning a small nod from the journalist.
He goes through a few questions before heading into the unit to change into something else to get back to the hotel.
"You have glitter on your face." GP comments as Max walks in. "Was that there before?"
"No. Y/n caught me before I got to media." Max states trying not to smile since while he isn't exactly eager to be covered in glitter, the fact it's from his girlfriend means it isn't something he's so bothered about.
"How nice of her." GP laughs before Max disappears into his drivers room where y/n is looking down at her phone, just waiting for her boyfriend.
"Hello, baby." Max smiles moving towards her knowing that one kiss is about to have a new coating of glitter all over his face again. "You glitter is spreading around. A journalist pointed it out in the media pen."
"Oh...I'm sorry, I didn't realise it was so-"
"Don't be sorry, it doesn't bother me. Although, I think I may need to work on explaining why there's glitter on my face."
Y/n is admittedly a bit of a glitter bomb, she uses it as make up and in place of where someone might put fake freckles on their cheeks and nose she dusts glitter. Max has never really thought of asking why, but he would definitely never ask her to change. And on the few occasions in the day time he's seen her without glitter she almost seems incomplete.
Inevitably it means Max gets a cost of glitter whenever he kisses her.
“I think you look nice with glitter.” Y/n smiles lightly earning a smile from Max before he leans down and kisses her.
Their relationship isn’t necessarily something Max is going out his way to keep completely secret but he also doesn’t feel like broadcasting it and sharing it with the world is the right thing to do right now. If only to protect her from the scrutiny he knows she’ll be forced to endure.
A few other drivers he’s closer to and people within the team know about her. He suspects some of the media have noticed her and probably have their theories. But there’s been nothing officially confirmed.
“I think you look beautiful with glitter. You wouldn’t be the same without it.” Max states then moving to get changed.
-
Being back at the hotel, y/n does her usual routine of trying to remove the glitter from her skin. Which Max has to admit, he doesn’t think works in 100% effectiveness.
Though she seems to manage to do a better job with Max in helping him wash his face to get the second-hand glitter from his own skin.
“All clean?” He questions moving up behind her at the sink as she uses a hand towel to pat her face dry from the double cleansing. “Clean but not quite glitter free.”
“I don’t know if I ever want to be completely gli.ter free.” Y/n shrugs smiling at him in their reflection, leaning back on him slightly as she feels his arm hug her and his hand press flat on her tummy just to hold her closer. “Not enough glitter that I’ll be passing it onto you though.”
“Ready for bed?” Max hums knowing she has many more steps in his skincare routine so it’s not a question really worth asking.
“Just a few more things. You can go ahead, I’ll catch up.” Y/n murmurs while seeming to grab one of the little bottles.
If Max tried to guess what she’s putting on her face, he really thinks he’d only get it wrong. She's actually already put it on his face, always dragging him into an involuntary skincare routine. Again, he'd do anything for a smile from her so he never says no.
-
"Oh gosh, that's-a lot is on your face." Y/n gasps rushing to brush her hands at Max's face to wipe his skin as best she can. "Wait, wait. I'll get a cloth, it'll go in your eyes when you're sweating in the car."
Max smiles sort of taking a moment to enjoy y/n's worry. It would definitely be a problem if his sweat got glitter in his eyes, but the fact she thinks about that and considers the risks really just makes him realise how perfect this woman is for him.
"I think I got most of it." Y/n murmurs then frowning as she inspects his skin. "Ok, you should be ok."
"I'll get my share of glitter later at the end of the race?" Max smiles making her nod trying to tone down her smile a little before she clears her throat.
"Ok, I'll see you at the end of the race. I'm going to go just take my seat." Y/n states earning a nod though when he tries to kiss her again she quickly moves back giggling. "No, I just got the fglitter off of you. You'll have to wait for a celebratory kiss."
"What if I don't do well? Do I get a pity kiss?" Max asks making her grin and nod. "And lots of glitter?"
"All the glitter I can manage." Y/n laughs then hugging Max tightly instead of allowing for a kiss. "Ok, go on."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
-
Max DNF'd.
Not necessarily of his own doing, at least the stewards deemed it a racing incident. Probably because him and the other driver both landed themselves out the race.
"I'm sorry baby." Y/n pouts as she walks with Max heading towards the Red Bull unit for him to change after being weighed upon his return to the paddock.
Max is unhappy but he'd managed to get a message to y/n in time for her to rush out of the garage where she'd been watching and to him.
Y/n goes to speak again, only to find herself lifted and carried by the Red Bull driver as he makes the most public display of affection with several kisses that successfully give him his fair share of glitter.
"Max..." Y/n murmurs looking at the driver with a soft sigh, trying to ignore the few cameras around them. "You know what you just did."
"I know." Max shrugs then smiling when he kisses her again. "But I really needed that."
Y/n smiles always happy to hear that she's being a help if only by her presence with him.
"You stay at the unit. I'll come find you after media." Max states finally placing her down on her own feet. "Don't talk to anyone who you don't already know."
"I'm not a child, Max. I know not to speak to media." Y/n laughs earning a hum before he cups her face looking happier than anyone as ever seen him for a DNF. "Go on, I'll be waiting."
Max quickly changes into some less sweaty clothes before moving to the media pen. One of the luxuries of a DNF is really there's not quite the rush to get to media as there is at the end of a race. Though admittedly, they still don't want him to take too long.
When he gets to media it's obvious word is spread about Max's mystery girl and he can tell they're holding off asking because they don't want to come across as unprofessional.
"You have glitter on your face again." The same journalist from yesterday comments making Max smile. "The same kids stage another glitter attack?"
"I think glitter might be a new part of my uniform after races." Max states with a nod. "I was waiting for someone to comment but you have all been very careful about asking. I thought you might change that."
"You seemed very happy out there as soon as we saw you with her." The journalist comments sincerely while Max can't hide his smile. "Usually you're not so happy after a DNF but it's good you have someone who can perk you up a bit more."
"I think it's the glitter too." Max comments jokingly then nodding. "I wasn't happy about the DNF and I don't think I will ever be happy but it was nice to have y/n there afterwards."
The journalists eyes practically twinkle with the tid bit of information that is y/n's name. Before today there had been a mild rumour of him being in a relationship, but really no one expected her to be so suddenly out on the scene.
After finishing up media, Max heads back to do the debrief of his own short-lived race before heading to his driver's room where y/n has relocated herself.
"You told them."
"I told them." Max confirms without an ounce of doubt about it. "Don't worry, I'll protect you if they're mean."
"It's ok, I'll throw glitter in their eyes." Y/n grins making Max laugh. He shouldn't really encourage her to be violent but violence with glitter feels so harmless from y/n he's not sure he can do anything other than laugh. Even if the idea of glitter in someone's eyes is probably enough to blind them.
"I think that might be the cutest but most effective form of self-defence ever." Max comments then checking himself for the amount of glitter he managed to steal from her.
"You know all we need is bows and you're the prettiest driver in the paddock."
"I love you, but not enough for bows." Max laughs earning a grin from the young woman.
"Ok, no bows. But I'm going to start getting more colour with the glitter...maybe I'll get you your own glitter-or I'll wear blue glitter for race day."
"All of those sound amazing." Max nods moving to kiss her again and maybe steal more glitter which is beginning to be his favourite thing.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris
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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 months
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Mom and Dad are fighting on Christmas 🎄⛄🖤
Miguel O'Hara x wife reader
TW: MINORS DNI, angst, relationship and marriage troubles, fighting, insecurity, jealousy, postpartum, talk of divorce, mild smut at the end (p in v, idk to me it's mild, I've seen worse) word count 3.3k
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Credit to the gif owner keezinemugstudent! 🙏🏽
Synopsis: your marriage to Miguel is on the brink of collapse. He wakes up and tries to fix it on Christmas. Jerry Maguire inspired. 😁
Valentine's Day spinoff sequel
I tried to write something angsty. Hope everyone had/is having a good holiday season! ⛄
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Miguel's in the doghouse and he knows it. You requested a separation after you reached your limit. The kids were sick in the weeks following Thanksgiving and before Christmas and he spent the whole time working late and coming home at suspicious hours in the morning, leaving you drowning. You and the kids were piled in yours and Miguel's bed when you'd hear him come home, the front door closing and his familiar footfalls dredging down the hall, pausing only at the fridge before passing out on the couch. Oh you hated him right now. The resentment had creeped in and poisoned the marriage inside and out when he became exceedingly obsessed with work.
Protecting the stability of the multiverse was a huge undertaking, but, like all things in his life, Miguel took it to the next level. But when it came to his personal life, he was grievously lacking. The passion where you two would do it twice a day and couldn't keep your hands out of each other's pants? Ancient history. The small pecks you'd trade in the mornings were a thing of the past. Gone were the days you two would text all day and go out for dates. You didn't so much as get an "on my way home" text, instead letting the sound of his car pulling in the driveway be your confirmation of his return. You two were more roomates at this point than husband and wife.
Traditionally, on Christmas Eve after the kids went to bed, you two would take that time for each other, eating the cookies for Santa that were conveniently your favorite kind, placing the presents you two carefully shopped for and wrapped (well, mostly you wrapped), under the tree. A hysterical giggle would escape your lips at the milk mustache on Miguel's face. Then you'd two get busy on the floor in front of the fireplace, fighting back laughter as you tried to keep your moans down, every year struggling a little bit more than before because your knees weren't what they used to be before taking it to your bedroom for one more round before the chaos of Christmas morning began.
He was perfect in the beginning. The romance between you two used to be at an all time high. He was a nerd in the same friend circle when you knew him in high school, wickedly smart, the guy who won the Robotics and Math Olympiad comps and got visits from Ivy League college STEM departments, eager to scoop up his talent. Sure, he was cute, but when he went to college is when you heard he had a major glow up and became kind of cocky. You heard about how he became Spider-Man and was pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread in the eyes of the people, saving lives and fighting villains and all. You knew how the opposite gender seemed to malfunction and forget how to act around him, so you stifled away your tiny crush you had on him for years in the smallest crevice in your brain in a forgotten folder, never thinking it'd see the light of day.
When you saw him at your high school reunion, you decided to be brave and remark on how they're playing Nickelback, which he shrugged and said he actually enjoyed them, to which you sheepishly admitted that you really enjoyed them deep down too, you just couldn't resist making yourself the person to talk shit, since there's always gotta be one hater when Nickelback comes on. A canon event, if you will. This earned a tiny side smile from him, a chink in his stoic armor. After 8 beers, some flirty jests, and a little backseat rendezvous in his car, that became the last night that you two spent apart.
You were a single mom and he was a single dad. He had Gabi who was now 10 and you had Marcus who was now 6. Then you two had little Anthony together who was now 2. At first he was at all the doctors appointments, all the parent teacher conferences, he knew what the kids were doing in school. He did bed times every night, reading in a silly voice with Gabi and Marcus both balancing on his lap while you rocked baby Anthony, smiling when you heard the kids giggling from the other room. You'd walk in after baby Anthony fell asleep in his crib, your heart melting as you saw this handsome giant of a man usually known to be cold and serious to everyone else, turn into the doting husband and loving father you knew him to be. Now, years of the monotony of every day life, pressures of raising a family, and the dying egalitarian attitude you two had as partners snowballed into your own version of Gottman's four horses, leading your marriage to Miguel into apocalypse.
At first, he welcomed the separation as you two battled in the kitchen.
"You wanna separation, fine, I'll do you one better. I'll fucking leave! Felicia's better company anyway," he smirked.
There wasn't real truth behind his statement, but he knew it would hurt you when you heard it. He'd be lying if he said Felicia wasn't an attractive woman, but, she simply wasn't you. He had learned his lesson on cheating years ago when he fumbled his relationship with Gabi's mother.
Ouch. But his words could be daggers when he wanted them to be, and he knew just how to twist them into you. Of course it was Felicia. Felicia, the gorgeous Black Cat recruit from work. Her silvery hair that halted midway down her back and startling blue eyes that could drown any man in them. She didn't have kids either, a life with her promised excitement, passion, and freedom. She was witty and funny and had a way of making anyone in her vicinity listen when she spoke. And to add insult to injury, she had a killer body.
After giving birth, you became so busy, and with reassurance from Miguel that you were still beautiful to him, you let your desire to get your body to "snap back" sit on the back burner. Signs of motherhood and postpartum marked you with purple stripes running vertical on your soft belly and a new plushness to your thighs. Basically, Felicia was a complete 180 from the woman you were, which made the sting of his words that much more unbearable. He took your vulnerabilities and threw them in your face.
"Oh so you admit it, finally! I know there was something going on between you two. Makes sense. She's a gorgeous woman, right? She can fucking have you then. What, are you in love with her?"
Miguel rolled his eyes, annoyed with the superficialness of your statement and your obsession with looks, despite him reassuring you many times that he wouldn't look at other women.
"I'm not in love with her, but she doesn't nag me all the fucking time like you do. I bust my ass every day for this family so you don't have to work. I don't know who this new woman is that I'm looking at right now and what she's done with my wife, but it's not the woman I fell in love with. It would be nice if you could show me a little appreciation once in a while."
You felt your blood pressure rise.
"Appreciation.... APPRECIATION, are you fucking kidding me?! I was up all goddamn night with Gabi and Marcus. I run this fucking household all by myself. I quit my fucking career to stay home and raise your kids. Do you not understand how lonely that is?"
"I'M LONELY!!! " he yells, triggered, the feelings bottled up, fizzed over and hurtled at you like a cork on a champagne bottle. "How do you think I feel? I got women at work practically throwing themselves at me but I don't do anything about it because I'm a good husband. Meanwhile, my own wife doesn't wanna fuck me. I'm a prisoner in my own fucking house."
Your eyes almost slipped from their sockets from rolling them so hard. He seemed to want a cookie and a gold star for just being loyal, the bare minimum.
"Oh, so you wanna fuck them? Go ahead! Maybe I'd fuck you if you actually gave a shit about me and not like I'm some damn fleshlight you use to get off!" You hurl back.
He left and checked into a hotel down the street.
A few weeks had passed and it was now Christmas. You were getting used to being separated but your heart still ached in your chest. You couldn't go on doing life, when the one person you did life with was nowhere to be found. You couldn't listen to your favorite songs, eat your favorite foods, or even look at your own children without being reminded of him. Gabi was his spitting image. Same with Anthony. Even Marcus, who was his stepson, started adopting Miguel's mannerisms. The way he'd scratch his head while he did his math homework, deep in concentration.
It was Christmas evening at your mom's. You joined the other women in your family, your non-politically correct Aunt, your soft spoken sister-in-law, your mother with a don't-try-me attitude, and your younger sister with a sass to rival your mother's. You were all complaining about the men in your lives, your aunt rattling off about her 3 ex husbands but, 'hey she collects alimony from two of them so she can't complain!', your younger sister complaining about the frat guys at college who just wanna get in your pants, your sister in law who's silent the whole time (your brother treats her like a queen), and your mom about your asshole dad with an erratic mother who was incapable of cutting the apron strings and made her life a living hell. The kids are laughing and playing in the basement, eagerly trying out their new Nintendo Switch Santa left under the tree.
"I'm here for my wife."
Your feminine council meeting is interrupted by an unwelcome masculine figure. It's your estranged husband, Miguel, the coffee-colored strands of hair that hung over his forehead starting to wet from the snowflakes that melted under the warmth of the room as he stepped inside, a look of regret and longing embedded in his eyes that you hadn't seen since your earliest days of knowing him.
His strong hands dangled at his sides in fists, his chest heaving up and down. His navy blazer bearing dark water stains from the melted snow. He had a revelation at work. He and Peter B. stopped an anomaly that was terrorizing the streets of Queens in Peter's universe. The battle was close, almost a little too close to where he lived, putting MJ and Mayday in direct danger. After the job was done, the moving and emotional reunion between Peter B., MJ, and Mayday was his epiphany.
As the little family reveled in their joy and relief of evading the ultimate disaster, the only thing there for Miguel at the point of his return was the inanimate, empty, thin walls of his apartment and the thoughts of you, his severed family, that inevitably haunted him. He needed you back. He needed to apologize and fix it now.
He ran from your house to your mom's in the snow and all. It was the first Christmas Eve he spent not in between your thighs and buried deep inside you. It was the first Christmas morning he didn't wake up to Gabi's blueberry pancakes and Marcus tackling him while Anthony screamed in delight. It was going to be the first Christmas night without his family by his side, an uncomfortably obvious empty seat at the table he rightfully belonged. Next to you.
Sometimes you don't know the value of something until it's gone. Sometimes life gets in the way and you forget to appreciate the person in front of you. Why did I treat my wife like garbage when all she ever wanted was for me to ask how her day was? Why were we on our way to winding up like both sets of our parents? Doomed to repeat the cycle of divorce and hurt. Doomed to lose your faith in love and marriage like all the maternal figures in your family before you did.
Now here he was, in the living room while your mom, sister, and aunt moved towards each other, eyes squinting, three pitbulls willing to jump in on your behalf while your sister in law just stayed frozen in place. He was in enemy territory and he needed to choose his words carefully.
"Not here Miguel..."
"YES here. Right now." He says in a firm voice. "You're not getting rid of me, woman."
You scoff, almost amused by his sudden urgency and painting you like you're the one who wanted this family to be broken apart.
"The kids are downstairs..." you start to say, hoping that the mention that innocent ears could be prying into the adult conversation would help him simmer down.
"I'll see them in a minute." He says flatly.
"I miss my wife...."-he chokes on the last word, wife.
"And I want her to come home." He knew at any time his words would give way to the reservoir of tears built up behind it.
You stood there, incredulous.
"I don't want to come home to an empty apartment. I don't want my own bed. I'm ashamed it took me losing you and the kids for me to wake up. And, I'm so so sorry. I'll do whatever I can to be better. To be a better man for you and the husband that you needed. We both got caught up in real life and focused on the kids so much that we lost each other. Well, this is me trying to find my way back."
Your lips parted slightly as your breathing became heavier. This was all you ever wanted to hear him say. Stop neglecting the love between you two that laid dormant, a plant starved of sunshine. For him to finally shake off the stubborn shackles that was his ego and express himself to you. Let him allow you back into his heart, no longer as a guest, but a permanent resident.
"You're... you're everything to me. And I'm not leaving here tonight until you let me know if you'd allow me the opportunity to get hurt by you again," a tear rolled down his cheek, his scarlet eyes yearning, his hands pining for the feel of you. As though the madness of not having you alone could stop his heart from beating, stop his world from turning, rearrange life as he knew it into a hollow existence not worth seeing.
Your own reservoir could not be held back any longer and started to roll down your cheeks. He managed to peel back the walls you built with his apology, revealing the woman underneath who just missed her husband.
He steps closer to you now, eager to bridge the rest of the space between your bodies.
"You still love me?" he asked softly.
Your chest heaves, shoulders raising then falling sharply, feeling yourself crack with exasperation under his burning gaze as you softly answer,
"Never stopped."
He grabs you and pulls you into him, his embrace is tight as though you'd disappear if he dared to break it. He tangles a hand in your hair and presses his cheek into your head, his eyes closed, drinking in the scent he'd been away from for weeks. You bury your face in his chest, trying to make yourself small and allowing his frame to swallow you whole, not minding his wet shirt and blazer that still have a slight chill on them from the storm outside, allowing your body heat to seep into his. You both began to rock back and forth a little bit, still locked inside your hug. It was as though the passing of time had evaporated and it was only you two in the room, nevermind your family witnessed the whole thing.
After several long moments, you pull apart and he offers you one of his dazzling smiles, one you hadn't seen in months. The kids have made their way upstairs and shriek with excitement when they see their dad and Miguel bends down to scoop them up. You smile and stand beside your mom who scoops you into a side hug. With her blessing, Miguel stays and celebrates the rest of Christmas with you and your family.
Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are now all tucked in. The sugar from the chocolate they consumed all day had worn off, making them crash hard in their beds. You and Miguel are cuddled up on the couch watching the fireplace, taking some needed time as a couple. You stroke his strong arms that are wrapped around you with your fingertips, watching the way the flames leap and spark in the air when they crackle against the charred wood. You look up at him and feel a wave of desire wash over you that you had pent up for months as you study his chiseled features and the way the fire's glow highlights his skin.
"Should we end this Christmas with a bang?" You ask, pun fully intended.
Miguel looks at you tiredly, trying to act like that wasn't a witty remark but he lets out a chuckle. "I'd love to," he whispers.
He takes both your cheeks in his large hands and brings his lips to you immediately. They're soft and full. You feel yourself melting into him every time he sandwiches yours in between them. He reclines you backwards, slowly, until he's on top of you. He lets the weight of his body and hips come down on you little by little, making you arch your back, so your body can better receive him.
Once he lets you taste his tongue, you open your mouth wider, permitting him to deepen the kiss, tossing kindle onto the growing flame between you two, and it's not the one in your fireplace. You take your turn to dial up the heat, seizing his bottom lip in a gentle nip from your teeth, earning a low groan from Miguel and a tightened grip on your hair.
As you continue your steamy makeout session, he begins to hump gently against your clothed body, a nonverbal plea for the wet friction only the inside of you can provide.
After your frantic hands strip each other of your clothes, you've transitioned so you're straddling him in the lotus position, goosebumps popping up all over your skin as your bare body meets his, a high pitched gasp escaping you as you sink down onto him, his mouth falling open and his eyes shutting closed as he breathes in your ear,
"God, I missed you, baby."
You whine into his neck as you coil your fists in his hair. His hands fly to the soft flesh of your sides, using them to move you up and down, his haggard breaths making you weaker and weaker by the minute. You hum,
"I missed you even more."
The next move of his hips is harder than you anticipated, causing your brain to go fuzzy with pleasure.
"How much?" he exhales in a sultry tone.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you all week,"your tone turning into pleading as you feel yourself approaching your limit.
Miguel can't help but feel himself lose his mind a little bit at your words and at your reaction, sensing you won't be able to hold on much longer.
He lays you down, while still keeping himself inside. He slows down to a more sensual pace, breathing in the sight of your wild hair clinging to the couch cushions, evidence of him hitting you in all the right spots every time the inner corners of your eyebrows squinch upwards and your lips fall open.
His loving eyes burn with worship of your body and how well you're doing as he runs a thumb along your chin then pulls down your bottom lip, leans in and mumbles quietly into your mouth,
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. O'Hara."
-------
🖤
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trashno0dle · 9 months
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so there's a lot of speculation whether or not they're gonna have mike be michael or not in the fnaf movie. and so far even i thought it was pretty unlikely considering the little things we've been shown. but now that the full trailers been revealed there's something that caught my eye. and maybe i'm puling a matpat here and over analyzing one little frame but. just hear me out alright. so in the little snippet we see of a phone call between mike and william, it's pretty normal and well, there's nothing to show that they know each other. clearly mike doesn't know who he's talking to, he just wants a job.
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and honestly for me i was losing hope that they were gonna have mike be revealed to be michael. since initially i thought this was just them confirming that he's not since, surely if he was michael then he'd recognize his fathers voice? but. that might not be the case.
my theory/speculation for the route they're going (again, emphasis on the theory i'm not saying this is 100% canon) is that it's heavily implied there's going to be SOME kind of flashback with mike as a young teenager, since a boy was cast and listed as "young mike" too. and this information about his character given back when casting for the roles were announced.
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"riddled with guilt over a tragedy in his past" which only further strengthens the possibility of a flashback to the bite of 83 where michael pranked his brother and inadvertently caused his death. it's the aftermath of this event with determines how this theory could work. either, william and his wife divorced shortly after, and his wife got custody of mike - they married into another family, the schmidt's. this could lead to abby either being his step-sister or his half-sister.
OR. mike was taken away from william either because of the bite or because the police were heavily suspicious that william was responsible for the missing children. he was put into the system and adopted by - again - the schmidt's. and the reason he doesn't remember anything is because the trauma and the guilt from the bite of 83 and the death of his little brother caused him to heavily repress those memories and in turn, a lot of others (william) without realizing.
so mike doesn't recognize william's voice here. but william?
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this is the frame that caught me here. his expression, the subtle smile on his face. the gears are turning in his head, something clicked.
what if william was keeping tabs on mike this whole time? and he carefully plotted to ensure he got the job at freddy's. for reasons unknown. maybe he just wanted to mess with him, make him remember everything he repressed from his childhood - he's trying to get him to remember by bringing him back to the place where it all started. he remembers his son, but mike doesn't remember his father.
BUT that's just me i'm a little insane. anyway i needed to make this post and write down my thoughts or i'd explode.
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egophiliac · 2 months
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Tl;Dr - I stopped playing the game but I like the characters and I wanna draw them but idk if the wiki I use is up to date for cards
Do u know any wikis that have up to date cards for all the twst characters-
Asking specifically bc of Malleus cause I can't tell anymore if he has any more new cards bc HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A 100 DISNEY ANIVERSARY CARD IN THE WIKI I USE 😭
Like compared to everyone else in Disanomia, he has 12 cards (in the wiki I use) and then Lilia has 17 cards 💀
Cause I think Malleus has a Bean's Day card as well, but that could just be a fanmade one, I don't have JP twst nor ENG twst anymore so I can't confirm it myself urhghrhevw 🫠
Malleus doesn't have a Beans Day card, so that would've been fanmade! and the 100 anniversary cards are actually the new round of birthday cards, so most of the characters don't have 'em yet -- Malleus should be getting his in a couple of days, when his birthday event starts! oh god my keeeeeys
I think the wiki.gg stays pretty up to date? it looks to me like they have everything that's currently up through JP, at least. :O I did go through and do a quick count just because I couldn't believe Malleus only had 12 cards, but. he really does have the least...defeated only by Silver with 13...astonishing. we need his gargoyle club wear immediately.
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