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#it’s still very much affecting him now (obviously)
itsgrimeytime · 1 day
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i know i got him || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn! reader
rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz
AVAILABLE ON AO3
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Inspiration: Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter
Summary: Ever since you showed up, you've had an effect on Rick. At least, that's what everyone said. Initially, you hadn't recognized it. But after one too many coincidences, it's starting to become a little impossible to ignore.
TWs: flirting, simp behavior, cursing, and all things TWD.
[[A/N: Was listening to this song nonstop (so good btw) and my brain went... hmm. Rick is terribly down bad in this. Like eager to do things for you, following you around like a puppy dog, the works. Also this gif????? girl... Enjoy :)))) ]]
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You had never really thought about how you affected him. Or how they thought you did, anyway.
"You're being ridiculous," you stated -plainly.
Maggie was trying desperately to convince you that you had one Rick Grimes wrapped around your finger. Rick Grimes? Wrapped around your finger? No way.
"Do you remember yesterday? When he went on a run to find you a pair of shoes?"
"That was not why he went out on a run," you laughed a little, mindlessly bouncing Judith against your side, "-we need more as a community than just-"
"Then, why-" she interjected, "-did he only come back with shoes?"
"He didn't," you countered, "-He had some cans of food, I remember."
"Two," she relented, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, "-he went out on a run for two cans of food?"
"Sometimes you can't find much-"
"Oh my god," Maggie rolled her eyes, "-you are unbelievable. Let me just show ya-"
You pursed your lips, as she walked ahead of you -beelining to Rick. She had quite the pep in her step, pregnant and all, "Show me?"
Before you could call out to her, she was at Rick's side. He seemed to be talking to Deanna, actually, and if he was talking to Deanna, it was probably important. He smiled at her, in a Rick sort of way, until she started motioning to you. You had no idea what she was saying, but his eyes flicked to you instinctively.
Now, you'd never thought about if he smiled differently at you, but it was kind of hard to ignore right now.
Eyes dipping over you and Judith, the bright grin on his face was very different than the one for Maggie previously. And it wasn't even like that one wasn't genuine, you could tell it was, this one was just different.
It was crinkly eyes and shining white teeth. It surprised you that it didn't even seem unfamiliar to you; how long had he been smiling at you like this? And you had just normalized it?
You guessed you didn't have a direct comparison but still-
You smiled back (maybe just as bright, you weren't sure) and gently waved.
Watching him laugh a little and shake his head (like he couldn't believe you were waving at him?), your eyes darted to the ever-so-slight pinks of his ears.
Before you could think about it, Maggie said something to grab his attention (eyes stuck to you before snapping to her), and they were both on the way to your side. Something worried in Rick's eyes, you felt some guilt coil into your stomach; what had Maggie said?
You couldn't ask about it before he was already at your side, hands itching to fuss over you -you could tell. He seemed to let them win.
"Maggie said ya got a headache?"
Right, it was a sort of offhand remark to Maggie. And it was hurting, the sun even stung your eyes a bit. But he left that conversation (obviously very important) because you had a headache?
The gears in your head were turning, and Maggie seemed to watch them -eyes stuck to your face. You couldn't believe it yet, there had to be a reason.
"Rick," you started, "-it's fine. It's minor, had it since I woke up this morning, I can-"
His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes gleamed with concern, hands coming to rest on your arm, "Ya had it since 'is mornin'?"
Shit.
"Yeah," you answered, still trying to fight your case, "-but really, Rick, it's nothing. I can manage-"
"Ya should go rest," he interrupted, taking Judith from your arms, "-least til' it gets a lil' better. 'S hurtin' your eyes, I can tell."
How did he know that?
"Rick, seriously-"
"I'll take ya home," he hummed, carefully, "-and I'll come back in an hour to check on ya-"
"Rick," you tried again.
"-Get some medicine from the doc', and bring it to ya myself," he finished, something in him decided.
You pursed your lips, trying a different angle, "Shouldn't you be getting back to Deanna?"
"She can wait," he responded, simply.
"Well," you frowned, "-it has to be important, I don't want to-"
"'S not as important as you."
The words faltered in your throat, and Maggie looked at you in a way that you could hardly grasp. Mouthing 'I told ya so', you thought on it. Maybe he was just concerned, I mean one thing-
And then, his hand came to rest on your lower back, guiding you home, and your brain promptly turned off.
Ever since that conversation, you'd been trying to reason. Keeping watch on your interactions with Rick (he did always smile at you like that, fyi), you were trying to rationalize it. Give it a reason. Other than what Maggie, and others, said, but it started stacking up.
It was a dreaded day, laundry day. And out of the cycle, it was your turn.
Sometimes, the people of Alexandria would just air dry their clothes for conservation reasons, really. And every time, there was someone assigned the duty. A little like how the meals were made, and someone had to help Carol -not that she'd ask for it. She was a little stubborn like that.
That being said, no one, and you mean no one, liked to do laundry. Specifically, because you had to get up early (to make sure you got all the sun power you could), and it took hours. Especially on your own.
You basically crawled out of bed at 4, maybe 5, in the morning. Still in your pajamas, you stalked through the streets of Alexandria -dragging your feet a little, you won't lie. Making your way over to the air drying area, you pulled out all the baskets and placed them along the ground -organized. It was probably the only time you ever really were these days.
Putting your hands on your hips, you let out a big, long sigh.
"Well," you tried to smile, still so asleep that your voice was cracking, "-the sooner I start, the sooner the hell ends."
Before you could even grab a single piece of clothing, a voice interrupted you -low in drawl like maybe he had just woken up.
"Ya need some help?"
Your eyes shot to him and something in your chest fluttered, stirring in your stomach. Rick was still in his pajamas (plaid pants low, and a plain t-shirt), eyes still heavy with sleep like maybe he'd just woken up too, and his hair probably the messiest you'd ever seen. There was a curl hanging in front of his head, you got the urge to fix it.
And maybe it was because you were half awake, but you did. The smile he got on his face after made warmth shoot to your toes -all dopey and sleepy. You kind of just wanted to gather him up in your arms, and maybe fall asleep on his chest (woodsy smell and body warmth). Luckily, that urge didn't come to fruition.
You furrowed your eyebrows, "What the hell are you doing up this early?"
Not only was it odd that he was up this early, but like you said no one likes laundry duty. So why was he offering to help at all? If he had duties this early, shouldn't he be going and doing them? Why-
"'Eard it was your turn," he spoke, low and gravelly (you had no idea how to handle that), "- an' wanted to help ya."
You pressed your lips together, mind chiming 'wrapped around your finger'.
No one likes laundry duty.
"Thank you, Rick, but-" you started, "-I can tell you're still tired and I know for a fact you have a lot to do later today, so-"
"Nothin' to do," he hummed, wiping at his eye. Cute.
That had to be a lie.
"Asked Deanna for a break," he clarified, looking at you a certain type of way, "-Needed one anyway, thought I'd help ya."
"You're," you sputtered, a little in disbelief, "-You're taking a break day to help me with laundry? It is so much work-"
"Won't feel like work if I'm wit' ya."
Good god. Was he always this sweet? You couldn't have been that oblivious. Seriously.
"Guess I could use some company," you muttered, a little flattered but you tried to hide it. Rick just smiled at you in a way that made your breath hitch in your chest, you wavered on your feet.
"But, seriously," you added, "-if you need to take a break, on your break day, let me know, I'll-"
"'S long as you're workin'," he smiled, big and bright, "-I'm workin'."
"Is that," you laughed a little, "-Is that your way of making me take a break?"
He smiled differently then, mischievous, "Maybe."
You bit your lip and decidedly turned to the baskets, "Let's get to work then, Grimes, the faster we start, the faster we're done."
He joined your side, close enough to touch, it made your head spin a little. Before speaking, low like maybe a mutter, and maybe even nervous-
"Ya mind if I stick by ya for the day? 'Ve got nothin' else to do, figured I'd just be wit' ya. If 'at's alright?"
Good god.
You swallowed, blinking, but not quite turning to him, "Of course, you... Yeah, of course. I mean, I might have more chores-"
"I don't mind," he hummed, gentle, already hanging up something -not looking at you, "-'s long as it's wit' ya."
You blinked, damp shirt in your hands, just staring at him. Watching as he carefully clipped up the clothes, big hands ever-so-gentle like he didn't just drop probably the sweetest thing you'd ever heard. Genuinely too.
Shit, maybe they're onto something.
You decided to ask around.
"Honest question, Carol," you hummed, thumbing through a few of the ingredients. It was your day to help her, it's probably one of your favorite chores. You really enjoyed her presence, she was a close friend. Long story short, you trusted her judgment.
She hummed, gently grabbing one of the ingredients.
"This may sound so stupid, just know that I'm acknowledging that," you clarified, now looking at her, "-but do you think Rick is into me?"
Carol paused a moment, trying to decide how to react maybe, and you could already see her reaction. She was just a little too polite to say it instantly.
"Shit," you muttered, "-really?"
She pursed her lips, looking at you with a little pity almost, "'Fraid so. It's..."
She fell silent for a second, you just watched -patiently.
"-Everyone knows," she continued, hesitantly (like maybe she didn't want to embarrass you), "-Rick... I think he's been into you since the prison."
"The prison?" you nearly exclaimed, stalling in place. No way, "-what did he-"
"Remember the week 'at you were sick?"
Right, you'd been a little delirious from something. Maybe a little more than a cold? Nothing super serious, you remember Hershel telling you that but you had to rest. He was pretty sturdy on that. Turned out you couldn't have been doing anything, it made you feverish and nearly sleeping all the time-
"Ya ever wondered who took care of you?" she questioned, directly.
"No," you laughed, "-it was Hershel, he was the medic-"
"You sure?" Carol countered, eyes peeking at you -leveling a stare, "-He was feeding you, gettin' ya water? Stayed by your bedside?"
You faltered, something in you twisting, "Carol."
You'd remembered something like Rick feeding you, bites extended forward, and maybe the low timber of his voice. You'd just thought it was you being delirious; you had a thing for him, so you just-
"Carol," you repeated.
"He was there every day," she clarified, turning to the other side of the kitchen, "-as far as I know, he only left to do farmin' and see Carl or Judith. If you seemed to get worse, he got Hershel. But... otherwise..."
"Carol."
"None of us said anythin'," she added, busying her hands, "-because he didn't. 'At was his thing, it wasn't our place."
"For all this time?" you scurried to her side -hanging on to every word she said.
"Well," she sighed, turning to you fully now, "-we kinda figured he'd say something by now."
"God," you groaned, throwing your head into your hands, "-I have to be the dumbest person on the planet."
"To be fair," Carol soothed, "-ya didn't know."
You couldn't look Rick in the eyes for the rest of the day, or maybe you stared at him a lot more. It was all so confusing.
You decided then and there, that you'd try the most trustworthy person. The one who wouldn't lie to you, a little because he respected you too much. It did help that he was most definitely Rick's best friend.
"Hey, Daryl?"
You'd arranged a run with a few newcomers, and frankly made Daryl come because you wanted to have this conversation.
He didn't speak, just sort of grunted. It tracked.
"You're probably the most honest person I know," you cleared your throat, "-and I am pretty desperate at this point for just... honesty."
He turned to you fully then, something like concern in his eyes. The guy was truly a softie at his very core, you probably treasured your friendship the most out of everyone but it was a close call.
"Everythin' alright?"
You pursed your lips, "Yeah, yeah, don't worry. It's a... probably stupid thing actually."
He kept walking forward through the aisles of the store you were in, stashing away some essentials. You were doing the same, well, you were trying to.
"Stupid thin'?" he asked, not looking at you.
"Yes, it's dumb as hell, frankly," you laughed a little, "-but I just... I guess I want to know the extent of it."
Daryl turned to you, eyebrows furrowed together, "What the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?"
"Rick," you answered, and he seemed to take a second at the name, "-Is he really into me? Like everyone seems to believe?"
He didn't answer at first, just simply turned back to the canned foods, "Carol tell ya 'bout the prison? When ya were sick?"
"Yes," you swallowed.
"Ya should know the answer to 'at then," he spoke -gruff and straightforward.
"Well," you tried to argue, "-it's hard to understand it. I just... I don't know."
Daryl said nothing, walking forward through the aisle. You followed him, keeping your eye out for more that he hadn't grabbed. And for a moment, you thought he wasn't going to say anything else.
Suddenly, he spoke up, "He can't focus when you're on runs. Deanna 'ates it."
You opened your mouth to ask just how he knew that, but he interrupted you.
"She complains," he clarified, before asking, "-Ya ever wonder why ya barely get put on runs? When everyone else is goin' in a cycle?"
"I..." you paused, mulling it over. When was the last time you were organically on a run? You'd arranged this one-
"Deanna don't put ya on 'em," Daryl explained, turning to you with some canned food in his hand, "-'cause she kno's Rick'll be useless. He'd be waitin' at the damn gate if he could."
You tried to speak, but he continued.
"He always asks someone ya were out wit' to keep an eye on ya. And 'en, when ya come back, asks 'at same person if ya got hurt at all. Scratches, cuts, if ya tripped probably-"
You didn't say a word.
"-I kno' 'cause I've been 'em," he clarified, and you were wordless.
You took a deep breath in, good god.
"So yea'," he answered finally, "-he's into ya."
And then, he moved forward and didn't say another word. He didn't really have to though.
You'd even watched this time, keeping an eye on Daryl and where he went after coming back from the run. And sure enough, Rick waltzed up to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. You imagined you knew the conversation.
Yeah okay, your mind chimed, he has a thing for me.
The thing was, he might've been hesitant but you sure as hell weren't going to be. You might warm him up a little bit though, maybe just for a little fun.
He was wearing a new shirt. Kind of weird for you to notice, but it was the apocalypse, everyone wore the same thing so often that it melded with them in your mind. You could still vividly picture what Rick looked like at the prison and sure, maybe that was for more reason than just that, but still.
You went a little on autopilot. Call it confirming what you already knew, basically. Or, at least, that's what you'd tell yourself.
Upon closer inspection, you noticed the collar of his (new) flannel was askew -just a little. Bingo.
You waltzed up to him and Deanna with no particular air of anything. Just normal, you wanted to see it for yourself really (the laundry thing was very telling, but you wanted to see the little things). Rick stuttered to a stop, words halting in his throat when you showed up, and your heart flipped in your chest. Stay focused.
"Hey, sorry," you apologized, genuinely (well, kind of), "-I just gotta-"
Carefully, you straightened out his collar.
You felt his eyes on you the whole time (just staring), it made your heartbeat pick up a little bit but, luckily, he couldn't quite see that.
"-There," you cheered, just a tiny one, and you saw a dopey sort of smile spread across his lips (it made you feel warm down to your toes).
You pat his chest once, feeling his body heat thrum against your hand -eyes connecting to his, "Like the new shirt, by the way."
He looked at you in a way that somehow seemed familiar but you'd never really noticed. You'd been noticing a lot more recently, to be fair.
With one last apology (eyes dashing to Deanna, who in retrospect looked a little annoyed), you politely made your exit.
Finding anywhere to go, you spotted Maggie -who was already looking at you.
Shit.
She approached you before you could go anywhere else, and you readied yourself for the onslaught.
"What was that?" she asked, carefully.
You resumed your step, maybe with a little too much pep, "His collar was messed up. I fixed it."
"No, no," she followed your lead, perfectly in time, "-you... you're doin' somethin', what are you doin'?"
"I'm not," you answered -plainly.
Maggie, frankly, didn't believe you (obviously).
You weren't sure what you were waiting for, maybe for him to realize? You knew you could've just told him yourself, and you really were going to... but every time you tried to walk up to him, your throat just clogged up. He would look at you that way (all dopey and sweet and affectionate) and you just-
God, you were useless.
It was late, way too late for you to be up (you should clarify), but you just couldn't sleep. You weren't entirely sure what it was, but at the same time, you knew exactly what it was.
Every day that you didn't tell him was another day wasted. It was the apocalypse. Every day was numbered, and you could be gone at any moment and there was no time to waste. But, you tried and tried and tried. It just wouldn't come out. You weren't sure why.
You groaned, pulling your pillow over your face for a moment. You had things to do tomorrow, couldn't you just have this crisis later-
And then, there was a knock.
Pausing, you waited a moment just to see if it was even real.
Knock.
It was a strong one too, maybe a little desperate, and fear shot through your spine. Before you could think too hard, you scrambled out of your bed -the chill of the night seeping into your skin. Your mind was in one lane, survival. Someone was probably hurt, something was happening-
With shaky hands, you pulled open your door, words on the edge of your tongue-
"Rick?"
He was standing at your door, hair mussed and in his pajamas (still the low-hanging plaid pants, you noted). You let yourself look at him a moment, taking in the domestic view of Rick you'd only seen once before. Seeing him like this almost made you forget your worry, but it still struck a cord in your chest.
You frantically searched over him (looking for wounds or blood), "Shit, are you alright? Did you g-"
"I'm okay, I'm okay-" he moved his hands to your shoulders, and your mouth snapped shut, "-Everythin's fine, darlin', relax."
"God," you let out a breath, centering yourself, "-you scared the shit out of me."
Rick smiled at you a certain type of way then, sleepy and still with that little glint, and let out a low sort of chuckle. Hair all mussed and eyes half closed, it might've been the cutest thing you'd ever seen.
"Sorry," he smiled at you, something twinkling in his eye, "-didn't mean to scare ya."
You waved it off, before falling a little more serious, "If there's nothing wrong, why are you here, Rick?"
He seemed to take a pause. Eyes flickering all over you, a bit in reverence. It made you either what to throw up or faint, you weren't totally sure which one.
"Are you-" you spoke, carefully, "-Are you emotionally okay? Do you need me to-"
"I need ya."
You faltered, barely digesting, "Need me to what? Whatever-"
"No," he clarified, something in his eyes, "-I just need ya."
"What?" you asked -half awake, and unsure if he was saying what you thought he was.
"Y/N," he started, eyeing your now connected hands, "-I want... Shit, I need ya wit' me."
"Rick," you spoke, softly, "-what are you talking about?"
"I'm tired of not bein' wit' ya-" he spoke, like it took everything in his body to say it -a little like he was pleading with you.
It felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs, and your heart was coughing up your throat. You felt totally and completely numb, all you could do was look at him.
He continued, eyes turning to match yours and grabbing your hands, "-I'm tired of missin' ya like a limb when you're standin' two feet away, I'm tired of always wishin' ya were closer, I'm tired of not tellin' ya 'at I think you are everythin' to me, I'm... I'm tired of it."
"Rick," your eyes were getting foggy.
"Darlin', I-" he let out a long breath, "-I can't do it anymore. I feel like I can't breathe without ya near me-"
"Rick."
"-Ya gotta understand 'at I-" he looked down (a little like the words were stuck in his throat), "-I... I can't function without ya. 'S like you're a piece of me 'at's just constantly missin' and it don't 'ave to be."
"Rick," you tried again.
"Y/N, I've-" he stuttered a second just looking at you, "-I've never felt 'is way 'bout anybody. An' I don't... I'm not even sure what to do 'bout it- I can't even think straight when you're gone, it... it stops everythin'-"
"Rick," you repeated, but there wasn't a lot of will behind it.
"Because 'ow am I supposed to be me without ya?"
You swallowed, heavily, eyes flickering all over him -maybe a little in reverence too. It felt like this was all a dream, and maybe this was exactly what you wanted him to say. Only one thought was rattling through your head, and you couldn't shake it, you're not sure you wanted to-
You spoke, breathless and maybe a little teary, "Rick, I love you."
Rick smiled at you so brightly that your knees felt a little weak, and your heart stuttered in your chest. God-
"You-" you laughed a little then, hands coming up to brush along his face (touching what you had longed to for so long)"-you're unbelievable. I couldn't even wrap my head around the thought that you could be into me-"
He just watched you, something shiny in his eyes (you couldn't tell if it was feelings or tears).
"-God you should've seen me. I asked like everyone in Alexandria," he laughed a little, and you gleamed, "-And... And I found out about so much that you've done for me. And you took a day off to do laundry with me-"
He laughed again, "Guess 'at made it pretty obvious, huh?"
"That, and-" you smiled at him, pushing some of his curls back out of his face, "-caring for me in the prison-"
He pursed his lips at that, maybe expecting you to never know. It didn't seem like he could stop looking at you though.
"-and you know what, not being able to focus when I'm gone on runs is pretty incriminating-"
He leveled the same look, and you could see his ears go pink. Cute.
"-or maybe," you continued, looking at him in a way that you hoped he understood (you were desperate for him to), "-when you dropped an obviously important conversation because I had a headache."
He just smiled at you, all dopey and affectionate. It made warmth bloom through your chest. Love, love, love-
"If it ain't obvious," he started, just staring, "-I love ya too. More than what I kno' what to do wit'."
You grinned at him, teasing, "Really? 'Couldn't tell."
He rolled his eyes at you, but was smiling so bright you couldn't take it seriously, "Ya gonna be like 'is now?"
"Oh, yeah," you answered, "-now I know just what you've done for me, and for how long. You're toast."
"Ya act like 'at's all I 'ave done," he countered, maybe smirking a little.
"It's not?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"No," he laughed, "-I was desperate for ya. For a long time. I did a lot to just be by your side, not countin' what I did for ya."
"Well," you smiled, moving your hands to curl into his hair, "-you'll just have to tell me sometime."
"Maybe," he hummed at the motion, and grinned at you, "-but the list is only bound to get longer. Might take forever."
"You know what, Grimes," you laughed, but you were genuinely, "-I think I can do forever."
"Me too," he grinned even brighter, eyes dashing along your face, "-as long as it's with ya."
Yeah, you thought to yourself (and maybe kissed the life out of him), I can definitely do forever.
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moochalove · 2 days
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Thinking about Yan!Boothill who...
Absolutely loves his chubbier s/o! Whenever you two are lying in bed he can't help but trail his cold metal fingers on your warm and soft body. He thinks you're so cute when you try to push him away! It's like you're asking him to squeeze your chubby face! If you ever happen to get on his nerves he'll dangle freedom in front of your pretty eyes. He'll encourage you to try to make a run for it. He knows with your extra body weight you won't get far- but he still kisses your stretch marks and says you'll do better on this attempt.
Boothill adores the chase, it gets his mechanical insides heated up. He's looking for a target that has the mindset of a scared little animal, and you happen to fit the shoe. Something that will run for dear life when he sets his sight on it. He seeks the thrill of pulling the trigger and seeing if his target will keep running or drop dead.
Even if his bullets land in your meaty flesh- he always promises to never hit anything major and to nurse you back to a healthy state.
When you first met him, you admired him. You thought he was very brave and courageous, you always wondered how he was so strong. You couldn't imagine working such a dangerous job. So, you gave him credit where credit was due.
To Boothill, you were the cutest thing he had ever laid eyes on. Your eyes were more appealing than others, your smile was a contagious one, and your laugh was that of an angel. He'd seen his fair share of people throughout the galaxy, yet none of them had left him with this warm feeling in his cheeks- it almost felt like he could short-circuit if he thought about you too much.
At first, he tried courting you normally. It seemed like you were reciprocating his attempts! The thought that maybe you felt the same way within your sweet little human heart made his artificial one "flutter".
But when he saw you with someone other than himself- he felt odd. He was too prideful to admit it was jealousy, but deep down he knew that was what he was feeling. If there was something his gun and a bullet couldn't solve, well, most of his problems would be unsolved. At first, all his thoughts were irrational, he was confused as to why he wanted to hurt someone who hadn't done a thing to hurt him. After a while, he drew out the reason why his thoughts were scrambled, it was because you played a minor role in all of this. There was no way he was gonna let someone else have all of your affection and love! So, how did he solve this problem? Obviously, he lodged his bullet in that person's chest! All while you were watching, too! He then proceeded to smother you with sweet affirmations with a giddy smile. The moment was romantic! (If you don't mind the screaming and yelling on your part) But that's in the past now! You no longer scream and try to fight him when he leans in for a kiss. It seems your life has practically gone back to normal, except you now have a dear lover. Boothill trusts you enough to do your own thing throughout the day while he does his own work. Though he would be lying if he didn't check (stalk) you throughout the day... You're the first one to arrive "home" most of the time, so you usually start prepping dinner for yourself. Boothill melts on the inside when he returns to see you wearing an apron. He knows he shouldn't bother you while you cook but he can't help it. He'll rest his hands around your soft stomach and lay his head on your shoulder while he tells you about his day. If he had a particularly rough day, you'll clean his robotic body with a warm rag and do any maintenance that you're able to do. Some days when you aren't feeling good about your body, he'll either declare he's too tired to do his work and he needs to stay with you for the day. The day usually consists of him reassuring you you're the prettiest person he's ever seen and that he loves your body, even if you dislike it. Sometimes he's able to bribe you with a sweet treat and a kiss to get you to speak your mind and share your insecurities. Other times when that doesn't work- he'll rest his face on the parts you're insecure about and say something along the lines, "Looky here darlin'," and he'll place a gentle kiss onto you, "The human in me loves you for you." Then he'll trace heart-shaped patterns into your warm flesh, "And so does the non-human part~" His eyes are practically hearts when he stares into your own, "You get it, don't you sweetheart?" Depending on your answer he will either: kiss you, hug you, or wrap his metal arms around you while nibbling at your chubby cheeks. "I know it can be hard for you- But don't ever think I don't love you. I've done things I can't take back, for you! If it's for you I wouldn't take 'em back. Hehe, don't you think that makes us seem like a married couple, it's kinda like a vow-Ow! 'Kay, I'll stop-Don't pinch me so hard!" After you exhale a breathy laugh all your worries go away. You hold him in your pudgy arms, pulling him closer to your warmer body that he can't seem to get enough of. "I love you, Boothill." That was the first time you said his name along with an "I love you". He lays there a bit stunned for a bit but eventually snuggles up to you. He can't believe how much progress you've made in your relationship. To think he used to use you as target practice... Ah, and the way you used to scream and cry all the time! He chuckles lightly at the thought of it before he notices that you've fallen asleep. It seems like he can start to relax again, as it seems like things are finally going well for him.
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littlespoonevan · 2 days
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*slips you a fiver* hi i'd like to hear about those abby/tommy parallels please
oh anon, i am Obsessed with you for asking me this question askdjf let's go!!!
okay. so rewinding to 5x04: the thing that endeared me most to buck/tommy as a pairing and the reason why i'm more on board with them than i ever was with buck/taylor or buck/natalia is mostly because of buck's reaction to tommy during the kiss. it's been over a month but i still haven't quite come to terms with just how lovely???? his reaction was???
because buck, in the immediate aftermath of the kiss, is just so in awe. and so shocked at the possibility of this thing that he never thought he could have. and it honestly really reminded me of how he was with abby??? i think i made a post about it at the time but in both instances it felt like a moment where buck was realising, "oh i can have this if i want it???"
in abby's case, the 'this' in question was romantic love. the possibility of real feelings and a real connection with somebody who wanted him back.
in tommy's case, the 'this' is obviously the idea of romantic love with a man and discovering a part of himself he never lingered too much on before.
in both scenarios, it offers us up a side of buck that's just so genuinely happy and excited and giddy almost??? most likely because of how real it feels and how much he's letting himself feel it??? like, idk if you've rewatched s1 recently but s1 buck is just so Open with his feelings for abby????? and regardless of what happened afterwards or if you ship them, seeing that side of him is just askfja it makes me giddy lmao.
and i definitely think we're seeing something similar with buck now. like, it's a little different - buck being open in s1 meant him being very charming and very upfront about his feelings whereas in s7 buck is more open in the sense that he's not shying away from his feelings for tommy even though coming to terms with his sexuality is obviously a very big thing too.
and i just don't think we've seen that from him with ali/taylor/natalia. with ali, it's understandable since she was barely in s2 and it was really just his attempt to start moving on after abby. with taylor, i think the 'buck is taylor's abby' theory still holds a Lot of weight and i think he never really knew how to be all in with her the way he was with abby. and with natalia, well, we all know that didn't really get any development. so seeing him like this now is just very refreshing, y'know???
(i'm not saying he didn't care about those partners, he obviously did, but the sense of anticipation there now is very much something that i feel is only on a par with his pursuit of abby)
and then ofc, on a more basic level, there are parallels in them both being older and having a lived a Life outside of buck that maybe he doesn't full comprehend yet and them both being a sort of guiding hand to him as he navigates a new part of himself.
but in terms of where things'll go now and how it might affect buck? i think buck is a very different person from season 1. he's also lived a Life (several really at this point) and his current personal life is so much more full than it ever was when he was dating abby so i don't think he'll be pinning all his hopes on tommy the way he sort of did with her. i think he can definitely still get swept up in his feelings (as we've seen lol) but i also think he's willing to take this thing between him and tommy for what it is and not put pressure on it like he would've before.
tl;dr it's not necessarily about the tommy/abby parallels and more about the buck parallels when he's with both of them, y'know??? :')
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storgicdealer · 3 days
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based on the previous post about tdls arc i rb'd and filled with my ramblings and ascii art i also just rb'd im going to continue my ramblings about the rules of code in ava
(with doodles!)
okay so. all we know right now is that all sticks to begin with have a script. and that it starts with their name and influences their destiny?/powers. its obviously notable with the hollowheads and also but im rambling on other sticks as well
i have lots of questions about how much code and programs work in the universe and influences everyone. the first obvious question is the coding of tdl with their command of destroying chosen. i adore the interpretation of it still affecting them in some way in the fandom !!!! however in canon it isnt elaborated upon. which begs the question of did it affect them? if it did, just how much did it affect them?? was any of this code left in their programming?? if it did affect them, how did they manage it??? have they tried to mess with their programming?? honestly, how did they start programming in the first place???? since they came directly from the pc, interacted with programs and the fact that code wouldve been useful in their terrors its not surprising for them at all to code by themselves, but no other hollowheads were shown to master it to a point of creating something — could it been the consequence of trying to remove their command? another question, if it was still somehow left in them, how did it affect them during showdown?
one of the interpretations of it that it's been "dormant" and that their need of destroying had shown itself in their seven year long reign of terror and why it was SO hard for them to back off. and that the showdown eventually made both dark and chosen to go "back to their roots". but since the command was targeted on chosen specifically i believe that if thats were the case the need to destroy wouldve been expressed to him and not to the whole web (god all this stuff opens so many ideas for them)
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my second big wonder that i have is about the creation of chosen himself. as i mentioned in my rb all hollowheads attacked only when they felt threatened or had a command ingrained into them like with dark. except chosen
he attacked the second that he was born without being threatened. just by getting his name. (its also interesting to note the names noogai considered before bringing him to life – again victim, killer and BEAST. did any of that influence chosen too?). in the instant messenger conversation programmer021 mentioned stickmen having levels which i believe is most widely interpreted in a non literal sense, just in the "how powerful is he" way. but if it is used in a somewhat literal sense? it opens a big conception of leveling??? and that being the "chosen one" is, supposedly, one of the highest levels possible for a stickman to have. and the fact that making him the chosen one was called a suicide???? god
it isnt really known from the series alone how much being the chosen one influences a stickman or a creation in general besides having very high levels of power. at the same time, having powers isnt an instant call to attack — unless there are in-universe rules that suppose that being the chosen one immediately means destruction being ingrained into a sticks code. but if thats the case... how much would it influence chosen as well?? wouldnt he have an innate, coded need of destruction too? and if its like this, how would he come back down from it? and if it goes in hand with tdls command too, why it was easier for him to denounce destruction than to tdl? does being the chosen one imply a variety of abilities, with destruction being part of it, but not it being the part that is impossible to suppress?
along with the "literal levels" idea, where would the second coming and the dark lord come in the "hierarchy"? and with the idea that being "the chosen one" initially supposes destruction, did the dark lord, given their name, have any initial code of destruction prior until the go and kill chosen command? why instead of attacking noogai as well they stretched at first instead, until they got their command?
these thoughts bring me to the idea of how exactly adobeflash brings a stick to life, to have a code of their own that influences them and ill probably have to dig information on the program itself and its coding language to know more about its functions. if bringing a stick to life, giving them powers is a function of animated programs in the universe, what else can a program do with them? how does adobeflash makes its creations interact with other applications? how could a creator get rid of a sticks life except for the supposed "dont save the changes" button? man. the whole idea of ava having interactable, 3d and alive internet, animations and creations in general, the existence of outernet as a whole makes me really happy since i just adore internet and digital concepts. i love exploring ava rules !!!
now getting to the second coming. to begin with, how was the program aware of who they were a second coming of in the first place to give them powers? the question feels answearable, but at the same time, second wasnt aware of their powers up until literally the last episode of ava. theres a lot to be thought about their awakening too
if most applications, art and creations has their own consciousnesses [desktop applications, youtube, browser stuff and etc], then how did specifically the last frame of second's animation come to life? could any previous frames of that animation be alive as well? and if they could be, would second's "clones" have the same powers and the same name?
in general, sticks are perceived as a separate entity in ava, but i do wonder if that could be the case, based on the fact that victims clones were able to be created and used after lol. even with vics clones, even with the idea that they're temporary, do they share the same memories with victim? given that victims life was "unsaved" along with their clones, were they able to "uncopy" themselves, or did they continue to just exist? are the clones that agent deployed in the box the same clones or new ones, just made with the amount that what victim is personally used to/the amount of weapons that victim is used to? if they are the same ones and were somehow able to "get back" into victim, do they continue sharing the same memories with them?
talking about other sticks i also have questions about their code. color gang for example
so far we had only seen the creation of hollowhead sticks by noogai and we dont even know about how other types of sticks came to life, not even mentioning the process of it, their code and their possible "program of birth". we do know that other alive sticks, and other HOLLOWHEADS, created by users exist given the stick rights banner in ava 3, yet it is the only clue of stickmen like noogais hollowheads existing. and we know that nonhollowheads are considered "naturally created" sticks both in internet and outernet, and that they're naturally weaker than "artificial" hollowheads are and that, supposedly, they reproduce by themselves. but how did they come to exist in the first place? do the rules of the universe imply them just coming into life by themselves, with the outernets existence? we do know, again, that users, other computers and programs exist in the universe and that some sticks are created by other artists, but were any of non-hollowheads like the colorgang, mercs, king, purple, gold, navy&orchid, everyone in the cities we have seen created by someone else as well? and why noogais stickmen are more special than others? are there stickmen stronger than noogais hollowheads? ... how would you tell two solid-headed sticks apart if, say, some artist created a copy of a "naturally" made stick?
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if non-hollowheads stickmen are created too, are they in touch with their creators? besides the enslavement fact-freedom guy stick banner, do creators tend to torture or befriend their sticks, creations in general? are there stereotypes about sticks and their creators? is it more or less acceptable in stick society to be in touch with your creator? are other creators, besides noogai, aware of the outernet?
... where would the creators of the color gang, mercs, king and purple & co be?
talking about the "natural" and the reproduction part, i do wonder, if, in case of non-hollowheads also being created by other people and animators, purple and gold came to life as a will of creators or as a will of the sticks themselves. we have only seen symbolic depiction of purple coming to life in their song, and i feel like it can be a depiction of a stickman drawn for two other stickmen (with the existing code of them being their child) or a proof of actual, natural reproduction. if child sticks were drawn for the parent sticks, were they drawn by their creator or by the parents themselves?
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talking about creation again, i do wonder why king was called "king" in the minecraft code, given that he had a life prior to becoming one. was it a player name inside minecraft that he has given to himself, or a name that he had outside minecraft as well? if its the second, why was he called king before? did he do anything king role related prior minecraft? and if it is not his real name, what IS his real name? and did he end up changing it back?
in general, talking about my favourite alive internet concepts, how did outernet appear? did it come into existence along with the internet? is outernet an extension of internet, and does it serve as a sort of a "backstage" for what is happening in the internet sites?
in my personal interpretation, i feel like outernet IS and extension of internet, and it develops with it — that, if you needed to describe it, the internet is the flat front of a regular box, while the outernet is the 3d space inside the box.
goooddd i think im done with my questions and ramble. my beckerverse brainrot consumes all. this is so long omg
if you read till the end...... have an aurora borealis duo doodle !!!! thank yew
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bunnieshoneys · 3 days
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coanda effect chp21 sneak peek
very long, not too spoilery, and pretty much all ive written so far of this chapter, so here u go!! still no update for the forseeable future :)
November 2022, Monaco
Satoru is sleeping deeply when his phone rings. It takes him a moment to find it through the haze of his vision, still blurred with sleep. Still, the ring shocks him awake, makes him forget where he is for a moment. 
“Hello? Who’s calling?” He grumbles into the reciever, letting his eyes fall closed again and his phone slip through his fingers. He left it on do not disturb, so realistically there’s only a few people it could be, but-
“Hey, I’m thinking about buying a house in Monaco,” Megumi’s voice comes through on the other end of the line, blunt and unaffected as usual. It’s quite the statement to wake up to, that’s for sure. 
“Ah. So when did you decide that?” 
There’s a lengthy pause from Megumi, who rustles something as he moves. “Did you only just wake up? It’s like, two in the afternoon.” 
Satoru scowls. “Some of us are affected by jetlag.” 
“I think you’re just old.” Megumi huffs, “anyway, I saw there was something for sale in your apartment block and I wanted to ask about it,” 
Blinking slowly, Satoru sits up, thinking oh, so we’re still having this conversation now, then. “Uh– yeah. It was– it was Riko’s, though, Megs.” 
The pause is a little comical, honestly. “Ah.” 
“You didn’t know that?” 
“No. I– I don’t tend to keep up with where all the old drivers used to live, to be honest,” Megumi says, and if Satoru didn’t know him any less well, he wouldn’t catch it. The hesitation. 
“I don’t mind,” Satoru says, easy, placating. It’s like coaxing a scared cat out of where they’ve lodged themselves in a trap, or something. “I would prefer you, than a stranger.” 
It’s belonged to a stranger for the last decade, after all. Satoru has always felt something twist inside him, watching the man come and go. Like he shouldn’t be there. It had taken a year to find a buyer for it after she died, and both Suguru and Satoru had refused to be too friendly with the guy. Maybe that’s why he’s finally moving, after all these years. 
“I mean… me? Out of everyone, me?” 
Satoru knows what he means. Fushiguro’s son, the man who killed her. Inheriting something that, for a very brief period of time, was hers. Something that Satoru, back when he was young and stupid, had believed would be hers forever. 
“Megs, you should have it. You’re young and you’re talented, and that place should belong to a racer.” There’s a hum on the other end of the phone, non-committal. Satoru huffs. “Look, I know the guy selling it, I’ll get his number for you, you can call him, or not,” 
“Thanks,” Megumi hums. “Is it nice in there?” 
“I haven’t been there for almost ten years, but– yeah. It was nice. You could see the water from it, I used to be so jealous of her,” 
There’s silence for a moment. Satoru can imagine the way Megumi is chewing on the inside of his cheek, nervous. Unsure. “Why’re you moving, anyway? I thought living in Nice was okay?” 
“It is.” Megumi says, short. Satoru’s ensuing silence must push him to elaborate, “Yuuji asked if I wanted to live with him, and obviously I’m not going to do that because it’s an idiotic idea, but– I want to be closer,” 
Satoru can’t help it– he laughs, full bodied. Megumi protests over the line, and Satoru regrets not hearing it over his own laughter. “God, Megs, I’m proud of you.” 
“Alright, yeah. Thanks.” 
“So, when’s the wedding date?” 
“Oh, shut up.” Megumi snaps, without bite, then, quieter, “It’s not about- um. Nobara is trying to move too. She doesn’t want to live in England anymore, she says. But there’s a lot of contract negotiations, and she can’t say much, but I think she’s gonna say yes to us.” 
“To JTR, you mean? I’m not gonna be there if she is, y’know.” 
“As if it isn’t always gonna be your team,” Megumi says, and Satoru can hear the roll in his eyes, “but– yeah. I wanted it to be us three, together. So.”
Satoru blinks and looks at the ceiling. The three of us, together. “Yeah, the three of you. I’m happy for you,” 
Me: [CONTACT ATTACHED]
Me: theres th rl estate guy’s no btw
MEGUMIIII ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ: Thanks. I’ll call him later maybe
MEGUMIIII ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ: I have to go for a run later if you want to join?
Me: ur in monaco? 
MEGUMIIII ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ: Going back home tonight
MEGUMIIII ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ: Just staying with yuuji
Me: got it 
Me: yh ill join
Shoko rubs her palms over her face vigorously as she stares down at her wine glass, curled up on Satoru’s sofa. It’s late, dark outside, getting cold. Winter has set in. “Should we be pushing for another minor upgrade?” 
“We have three races left,” Satoru hums, looking back at the TV screen, playing some true crime documentary that he’s long since zoned out of. “I think it’s on me, now.” 
“It’s still our job to give you a car you can win with,” Shoko hums, “the Keicho is pretty even with us now,” 
“You know as well as I do that adding anything this late in the season would be a huge task.” Satoru replies, leaning back against the pillows. “Even if it’s something from next year’s car.” 
Shoko presses her lips together: Satoru has read her mind. She was thinking of pushing something forward, trying to push the boundaries of what is possible. “Satoru.” 
“You don’t think I’m the better driver?” Satoru replies, half-teasing, smiling with one side of his mouth. 
“You are the better driver.” Shoko says, “I don’t doubt that for a second. But he’s– there’s something about him. He’s driving like–” She trails off, tucking her hair behind her ear. 
“Thanks for the compliment.” 
“That’s what you take from that?” 
“I know he’s hungrier than me,” Satoru says, “you don’t have to say it,” 
Shoko curls her upper lip, and turns away. Satoru can only see the curve of her cheek, the set of her jaw. 
Frowning, Satoru slips an arm over her shoulder, pulling her towards him slightly. “What?” 
“I think you’re both just as hungry. Just for different things, and that– it changes things. The DNA of the hunger, it’s different.” 
Satoru stops, stares at her. “Come on, I’m– this is the seventh. There’s no way I’m as hungry for this as I was my first. My first was–” 
He remembers it, the sun, blinding, his head, spinning, Suguru’s arms, soft and safe and warm– “It was like nothing else.” 
“And this is his first,” Shoko hums, “but I think you’re– I think you want this badly enough. Because you want to be finished. With this, with your legacy. And I don’t blame you, and yeah, those things are comparable, but– they’re not the same, of course they aren’t.” 
Satoru grins, lazy, taking in her words, hugging her a little tighter. “You’re so smart, you know that?” 
He shakes her from side to side, and she laughs, but it comes out wet. Satoru immediately hugs her tighter, tries to get a look at her face. Her eyes are wet when she looks at him. “Is it selfish to ask that– for you not to be done?” 
“Shoko-” 
“Because it’s stupid, but in 2014-” she hiccups, “Getou was the same as you, I think. I could tell. In the last two races, he just–” she makes a motion with her hands, miming an aroplane crashing. “He was done. He wanted to be done, but he needed to win to be okay with walking away from the things that were hurting him, and then he just- he disappeared.” 
Satoru’s heart is caught in the spiderweb of everything that’s happened, then and now and inbetween. “I’m not- you know I’d never do that to you.” 
“I know. But it sometimes feels like a tightrope, this whole thing. If we walk away from this– from this sport, I don’t want us to fade into nothing just because we’re not forced together anymore.” 
Satoru lets it breathe, the heaviness of it. The confession, the vulnerability. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, come on. I’m gonna be annoying on the sidelines every weekend cheering for Megs and Nobara, you know. And Yuuji, even if he beats me.” 
“Not Yuuta?” 
“Everyone. God, I’ll cheer on the team, I’ll cheer on Keicho. Wherever you go, if you go and build a hypercar, I’ll drive it. You know you’re my best friend.” 
Shoko tips her head onto Satoru’s shoulder, punching him in the side weakly. “I know.” 
:3
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cacturne · 5 months
Text
“Carmine is not the worst” and “kieran is not the worst” are statements that can and should co-exist
#Its always either “carmine did nothing wrong kieran is a stupid unhinged brat!” Or “kieran did nothing wrong carmine is literally abusive!!”#No. Theyre not. Neither of them are. Theyre just nd/mentally ill and cope with it badly#Its really not that hard come on#Also as an older sister with a younger brother a lot of the mean dialogue is pretty typical#Obviously that doesnt negate the fact that for kieran it hit him in his issues but he never spoke up about it and kept it to himself#And carmine is pretty dense and a bit in her own head so it makes sense that she wouldnt notice without being directly told#And with her specifically its made clear in dialogue throughout that she does care about her brother#She thinks about how in her mind things might affect him and chooses what she thinks is the option that wont hurt him. Though obviously#shes not the best judge there. But thats understandable she isnt very good at reading people#And kieran just doesnt know how to cope with his problems. When stuff gets too much he bursts and lashes out. A normal thing for a teenager#Obviously this now frightens carmine and she starts backing down distancing herself and generally just closes up around him#Because while she is abrasive she doesnt really *realize* she is. And its easy to see kierans abrasiveness as something inherently hostile#(Because even if he doesnt really mean it it still is aggressive)#Hey wait a second why am i infodumping about kieran and carmine pokemon in my tags#This is like the worst way to do it. Sorry cutting it short ty for reading if you did#ghosts howling
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the higher-ups (and Yaga) immediately trying to leverage Gojo & Ieri's absence to put Yuuta on the roster??? God that's such a stark moment. Thank god Nanami and Gojo saw through that one immediately, because Yuuta wants to justify his own survival so badly he would've fallen straight into it.
That whole scene, with Yuuta immediately jumping on the opportunity to help people even though something is Extremely Wrong with him and he's on the brink of physical collapse--this boy is selfless to the point of self destruction and I am chewing the drywall about it. I love him so much.
If only he was able to summon his newly found homicidal rage in defense of himself, the higher-ups would no longer be a problem. Alas, this boy is Extremely Unwell.
(Sea Glass Gardens is absolutely incredible and i am obsessed with it in a way that is totally and 100% normal. I'm so normal about it, trust me <3 )
The thing about Yuuta is that he really is prime to be taken advantage of right now and the higher ups know it. They had him try to kill himself for them--they know that there's a window of opportunity that they can use to get him under their thumb and avoid The Problem of Gojo, which is, namely, having a human weapon who you cannot fully control. Gojo nailed it from the beginning: they want a magic gatling gun with no personality or free will. They learned their lesson with Gojo and are trying to rob Yuuta of his agency before he learns how to protect himself.
And Yaga's part in that scene really was meant to kind of emphasize how, even with the best intention's, he just doesn't work to protect the kids. Like. everything he said was technically true, and he meant it with the best of intentions. He's the guy who has to think of everyone's needs. he has to manage this crisis. he's got a lot of people hurt badly who just came out of a war, and a lot of people going into fights with some very aggravated curses spawning without sufficient manpower to address the danger and no healer to save them if they cut it a little too close. He didn't have the intention of manipulating or sacrificing Yuuta, but he was aware that it would come to his detriment and risk.
The issue is the higher ups. They don't give a shit about the people in their workforce. They should be the ones doing whatever it takes to solve this crisis and save their people--and if that means giving up on their machinations? They should have already done it. It's their responsibility.
They just don't care. They want Okkotsu Yuuta under their thumb, and their society hemorrhaging is treated like an opportunity, not a dire problem to be solved. They don't care if half a dozen of their own people need to die to do it. Hell, it's better if they do die--they can put it straight on Okkotsu for not being willing to sacrifice himself, when they should have been making whatever promises they had to in order to make this work.
Gojo's done this before, is the thing. He was Yuuta, a long time ago. Nanami was right there watching it happen. They both know what the higher ups do: They let society get to a crisis level and put all the responsibility on you to save it. they let you maneuver yourself into a vulnerable position as a result, and then they use it as leverage to put their goddamn boot on your neck.
The thing is that Gojo adopting megumi all those years ago really did put them into a crisis state. the zenin pitched the mother of all bitch fits trying to secure his unconditional return, and they were a huge percentage of jujutsu society's labor force and resource pools. instead of the higher ups managing the problem at all, they took advantage of the situation and shoved more and more of its weight and responsibility onto gojo, until he was dropping off his own kid at his abusers' compound thinking it was the only compromise that could resolve things. megumi paid the price for gojo not calling bullshit, and right now, with him in a hospital bed? gojo's less willing to repeat mistakes than ever.
he knows that they're going to use the safety and suffering of everyone else as the leverage against him, and he knows that as terrible as it is, he cannot blink first. He's played this game before, and he knows that the only way to get the higher ups to back off on something like this is to dig in your heels.
I think what happened to Megumi all those years ago and how bad it got before they put a stop to it is something that haunts all three of them. When they first started raising him, they were very young, and they were very broken, and they loved him very, very much. He was their little boy, and he was never the same after the Zenin. They were supposed to protect him, and they didn't, and not a single one of them has forgiven themselves for that.
Megumi was sort of sacrificed for the greater good when he was a kid. None of them thought that that was what they were doing when it happened, but that's what happened. His happiness, safety, and wellbeing were sacrificed to pacify the Zenin and make it easier on everyone else.
Megumi and Tsumiki had to become their non-negotiables after. They had to become the things they refused to compromise on. The Zenin would take miles and miles if you gave them a millimeter, let alone an inch.
Gojo didn't think he was compromising them when he left them on their own to deal with Geto's war. They were disgustingly self-sufficient kids. They had been alone for longer stretches of time when they were practically toddlers--they should have been fine on their own for a couple of weeks.
But they were still his kids, and he still left them alone for everyone else's sake, and now his kid is blind and half dead in a hospital bed. It's like being punched in the face by old mistakes.
So they're off the roster completely, all of them. And they're not compromising an inch on what their focus is, and they're not letting anything happen to any of the other kids in their care.
It's terrible that their coworkers are suffering, but it wouldn't be happening if the Zenin hadn't fucked with Gojo Satoru's kid, of all the goddamn people. It wouldn't be happening if the higher ups would actually do their job and start managing shit.
And if they use Yuuta as an anxiety riddled bandaid on the bullet hole in their society? Then they'd be sacrificing him the way they sacrificed Megumi all those years ago. And they have never been less willing to do that.
I'm so so glad you like the story! Thank you for talking with me!
#i think gojo has such a big emphasis on giving kids the tools to protect themselves because no one ever did that for him or geto#geto snapped under the pressure and was lost to gojo forever#Gojo repeatedly focuses on giving the kids the tools to enjoy their childhood without being hurt#like with yuuji--he doesn't want him to sacrifice his youth and happiness with the others#so he focuses on giving him the strength to protect himself when gojo isn't there#in my mind that's also why gojo was always trying to feed yuuji the fingers#like when i first started the series it seemed kind of weird to me because gojo very obviously didn't want yuuji dead#until i realized that yuuji canonically had a good chance at suppressing sukuna even at 20 fingers as long as he had them spaced out#if yuuji had sukunas power level and had gotten it in increments eventually the higher ups couldnt touch him and hed still be under control#honestly none of the adults are doing well right now#a little under a decade ago the issue with the zenin came to a head and megumi ended up being very small and very hurt in a hospital bed#and they promised him that it would never happen again#now he looks very small and very hurt and he's in a hospital bed and the zenin put him there#as much as he's an angry teenager who hates displays affection he really is their little boy and they adore him#nanami was the one who took him from the zenin the final time all those years ago and he personally promised megumi that he would never eve#go back to that place. he feels like a complete failure right now.#gojo always blamed himself for not digging in his heels and refusing the custody compromise and now he's FURIOUS that this happened under#his nose a second time. i think gojos really interesting in the hero role because he's canonically low empathy and struggles with homicidal#impulses and let me tell you he thought about just killing all the zenin back then and he's REALLY thinking about it right now. there's one#fucking way of making sure this never happens again.#shoko generally feels like shit because this is supposed to be the one thing she can do to help and she /can't/ do it right now to help#megumi. also she privately thinks she had the most opportunity to realize how bad it was with the zenin back then and /didn't/.#she was going through a lot of her own issues back then and the zenin had some kind of believable excuses for why megumi was always banged#up. like. he was already getting into fights at school. its not like the zenin had issues procreating. they said he was picking fights#with other kids and that's where he got hurt. they actually blamed maki more than once. and some bruises here and there is expected for a#kid in combat training even at what was meant to be a very preliminary level. he was supposed to be in like. kiddie karate classes and they#didn't realize the zenin were training him like a fucking marine. it was SO obvious in hindsight and that tortures them.#protecting yuuta right now kind of feels like a chance to get it right the first time and all of them need that now that they feel like the#fucked it up with megumi a second time#sea glass gardens
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📚 QUEERBOOK 2024 is hereee! We made a book by and for LGBTQ+ youth! 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈
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Read some more about the book and grab your own limited-run copy of Queerbook 2024 now here.
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galacticlamps · 2 days
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actually ascension needs its own post since that's the one with the most details to speculate over and im starved for soho talk so i will talk to myself if need be
First the cover again, because I kinda can't get over it:
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my only thing is that I had been hoping we might get Lizbeth on a cover again since she's never been on one of the boxsets before, despite being the 2nd person credited on all 4 of them (even if that's just alphabetical, still, she's the only one of the four main characters who never makes the cover)
But letting that go...
I know we already kinda knew the brief for this one but damn I didn't expect it to go quite this hard. Maybe that's just because the Parasite & Ashenden covers were (comparatively) similarish to each other and I was so pleased with Unbegotten's, and then got so used to it as the placeholder for Ascension while they kept postponing it, I wasn't expecting anything this colorful or detailed or with what I can't help but register as Fun New Outfits even though these are still like, pretty damn basic as far as costumes go. Still, it's a different vibe from everyone in suits and trenchcoats on every cover, technically. (Oh the woes of being an audio fan such that two characters owning sweaters actually does qualify as new information)
On top of just being visually delightful though, I know we knew religion was gonna be a fairly big part of this one, but I didn't actually expect to get quite this much of it - though I'm glad of it for a number of reasons. The BF twitter already made the ineffable joke so I don't have to, but also yeah I did very much spend all of season 2 episode 4 of good omens half convinced Samuel Barnett & Dervla Kirwan were about to pop up around any given corner (if you will go around being gay supernatural and horrible at your messy bureaucratic jobs in midcentury soho then I'm sorry, this is where my brain's gonna go) - so, fuel to that fire. But in terms of actual important things, at least one of my Soho wishes looks to be being granted because we have a Rev Edward Folgate on the cast list, which must mean we're finally meeting Norton's father, even if his mother & brother don't appear (which they could, technically, I've definitely seen BF not list all the doublings on their cast tabs before). Religion, domesticity, and the nuclear family are all things that absolutely fascinate me when it comes to Norton's character, so getting any amount of story involving his father & his church is something I've been actively hoping for for a long time now.
(I will say I'm a tiny bit bummed Saffron Coomber isn't on the cast list to play Mia again, but I kinda figured she wasn't going to be since Greg Austin's Armitage, who's making his first recurring appearance after originating in Unbegotten, was listed ever since the boxset was announced - presumably if she was also returning, that would've been handled in the same way. But since Unbegotten ended with Lizbeth and Mia going on a date, I still held out hope. Who knows though, maybe things did go well for them and Lizbeth just has a better work/life balance than Norton so she can date someone without them getting dragged into every scifi plot. I know that's not a very common accomplishment for any Torchwood agent, but a gal can hope)
At this point I know I'm completely in the realm of speculation & even wishful thinking, but I'm really really hoping we get some more clues as to Norton's overall timeline in this one, and I have a feeling that even if there's nothing as direct as dates given, the events of a plot like this one are going to heavily influence my personal interpretation of it.
To say that life & death are major themes for the soho crew feels wildly reductive, but even by Torchwood's standards and taking into account its origins as a piece of media with Jack Harkness & his newfound immortality at the heart of it, the living/dead status of this bunch has always been fantastically up in the air to me. Obviously Ghost Mission introduced Norton as kind of a ghost before revealing more obvious ghostly characters later on to which the title might have been referring, but his being from the past did beg the question of his survival into Torchwood's present era all the same, which Outbreak later alludes to much more directly, and his habit of showing up via hologram in multiple stories only further obfuscates any certainty we might have about where & when he definitely can be said to be alive and well. Then you've got Lizbeth and Gideon both being effectively 'brought back to life' via paradoxes that prevented them ever having died in the first place. Again, they are very very far from being the only Torcwhood characters this happens to (for a sprawling EU, it's really rather impressive how often & in how many different ways Torchwood as a whole manages to circle back to being about like. chaotic undead queers at the end of every day. though I suppose that consistency is part of why I keep falling in love with its different iterations again and again). That's without even getting into the question of Norton's dubious fate in God Among Us - and I say dubious because I know some people take that to be his ultimate death, but I personally think that reading something as vague as that as having any kind of finality rather goes against the spirit of this whole world/series, not just because I want him to live. (There are obviously other ways to make him survive/reappear, but I don't see this as a River Song scenario where we can safely assume one of his earlier-released adventures had to happen at the end of his personal timeline). But wherever God Among Us falls for him, he does very much meet God in it - or at least, a god, since the sentinel in Unbegotten is also described as a god of sorts, and even if he doesn't ultimately have the status of the god Jacqueline King is playing there, Unbegotten is still full to bursting with ghosts/undead/came back wrong/echo characters to continue underscoring that life/afterlife theme.
So all things considered, even allowing for the fact that we know Norton's twin hobbies are lying about himself and abusing time travel to suit his own ends/ever-shifting alliances, I find it difficult to believe we could get through a whole 6-part boxset about religion & death without something providing some kind of compelling evidence about where this adventure fits in among his other run-ins with apocalypses and gods and ghosts and dead-but-still-here characters/creatures, so I'm very much looking forward to any further exploration on that front.
And lastly, and least intellectually, I really want to know what the hell 20th-century Torchwood's obsession with Reginalds is. Reading through the cast list, I had to do two separate doubletakes over the character 'Sir Reginald Peebles' - firstly, because I had Reginald Rigsby on the brain, this being Soho (and the other Troughton brother being so active on BF's releases for this same month) - and secondly, because reading this in conjunction with the announcement for the July monthly adventure in which the new main Torchwood guy of the 20s is apparently called Sir Reginald Dellafield, there was a brief moment where I took that monthly release to be a tie-in with Ascension. I don't expect it to be, but damn. was it really so popular a name?
anyways, catch me thinking about those stained glass windows for the next couple months I guess (and knowing Torchwood Soho, for a long long time after it comes out as well lol)
#torchwood soho: ascension#let's start with the most obvious shall we? behind norton - hellfire or divine radiance? whadda we think?#i know one's much more likely for him but also consider: he's been a fairly good boy by norton standards anyway lately#well i say 'lately' like i know when this takes place#idk why but i kinda feel like this starts very soon after unbegotten#comedy is probably why honestly. since that ends with them being like hey! something went right!#i think ever since i first heard that i was like ok cool so the next installment's gonna be something earth shatteringly bad#& it's gonna kick off dramatically literally one second after this scene ends right?#not that it wouldnt be nice to have some (clearly-defined) timeskip there#tbh i feel like that's the one thing that's missing with soho sometimes - those little medium-sized gaps in continuity#where either speculation or even a missing scenes style fic would go#between parasite & ashenden lizbeth was dead and andy wasnt in the right era for soho shenanigans#and norton and gideon went through SO much offscreen (offmic?)#rebuilding torchwood and starting a relationship and breaking up and getting possessed by space eels and destroying torchwood again#that's like... Too Much to analyze/meaningfully discuss without a few more details from canon#and between Ashenden & Unbegotten it's very unclear how much time has passed#norton certainly seems affected when he sees gideon again for the first time but we also know he went there for him so how long was it?#that and we have literally zero explanation for what andy's doing in the 50s in that one to begin with. has he been there continuously?#or did he leave and come back? if so did norton even have to try justifying it to him?#or does andy just accept at this point that he'll be summoned for anything norton feels is noteworthy? honestly either's plausible w him#but also we have so little confirmed about what torchwood looks like at this point in time!#maybe andy gets summoned for all missions bc he norton and lizbeth are virtually the only agents left after gideon quits#there's just a few too many things unexplained/alluded to for me to go total total fandom mode on this#speculating & theorizing about everything that happens off-audio#doubtless this is mainly bc of norton's general untrustworthiness#like im sure a different main character would've left the audience with fewer uncertainties after this many hours of storytelling#but with soho im still left needing just a tiiiiiny bit more before i feel im knowledgeable enough about the situation to expand upon it#in the traditional fandomy 'transformative' way#right now most of my fanning over it is just speculation about what precisely we can be confident in from the dialogue we do have#but i'd like to go further than that truly. these characters captivate me. obviously.
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sinelity · 1 year
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eyes like yours, can look away (but you can’t stop dna)
↳ in which dabi struggles with the overwhelming familiarity of his reflection
—-
shaky hands gripped the counter, turning white at the knuckles. it was late, far too deep into the am’s to still be awake and this wasted. dabi didn’t care though. he was so numb to the touch, he could hardly feel the counter digging into his skin. hell, he couldn’t even stand properly without a support.
he deserved this though. at least he thought so. he’s been working his ass off, causing trouble for the hero’s every which way he went. it was rewarding enough to watch them from a shabby alleyway as they scrambled around, trying to save every pathetic bitch that couldn’t help themselves.
well it was, up until endeavor arrived on scene. he could handle seeing him, loved the rush of satisfaction it gave him to watch his father seethe at the sight of his very own signature. what he couldn’t handle was the brat shadowing his footsteps. of course, daddy had to parade around his special lil’ boy that he was oh so proud of. the only heir endeavor ever needed; the only one he truly wanted.
it made bile rise in his throat before he forced it down, walking off with his jaw clenched in a similar manner to his hands, only to make his way back to the bar to wash away any memory he had left of the day.
and so here he was, hunched over the sink after a few rounds too many. any self pity he had left in him was long forgotten, put to rest for the remainder of the night. he hated feeling like he had no control, no power over his own stupid fucking emotions. dabi refused to cope, instead opting out for less savory methods that lead him to this exact situation hundreds of times over.
the faucet gave in with a creak, a sharp flow of water ricocheting against the porcelain. he splashed water over his face, hardly holding himself up without a hand against the surface to steady him. the same routine he’d never outgrow no matter how many years pass by.
he didn’t bother to dry his dripping skin. he only held himself against the counter once again, this time his shoulder leaning into the wall.
an empty box laying close to his hand served as an empty reminder; he needed more dye. begrudgingly, dabi looked into the mirror, avoiding any direct eye contact with the man staring back at him. he just wanted to examine his fading hair and white roots, an annoying nuisance but one that was much needed. it was inevitable though. impossible to ignore his own reflection so when his eyes met the familiar blue in the mirror, he felt sick.
he felt sick because it wasn’t him who he saw, but the cold eyes of his father. the same man who he despised more than anything. the same man who was supposed to raise him with a loving smile, yet only ever looked at him with dead eyes. the sight was unwelcome, but it didn’t mind it’s manners. a foot in the door, pushing past the ever growing force trying to keep it away, it made itself at home in his head.
his gaze was locked on the image that intruded his every thought, attempting to get him to focus solely on its presence like it would heal the very wounds it inflicted.
yet it only ever reopened them, and suddenly he was right back to his past, burning up and screaming for help as his father watched. he waited, begged, cried for even a flash of care or regret in his fathers eyes but all he saw instead was disappointment. it hurt, digging into his sides and letting loose on his worn down body. he caught a small glimpse of himself engulfed in blue flames before he erupted and everything went to hell.
it tore at his insides, starting low in his knees, weakening them as it makes its way to the tip of his ears. a path only it could trace, hitting every nerve and marking its way deep inside him like it belonged. but it didn’t. he didn’t want it to. it wasn’t supposed to be there anymore. he tried so hard to tear it out of his head like it never existed in the first place.
it wouldn’t relent. he could try and try all the wanted, but even he couldn’t rid of every trace of the past that lead him here. it wasn’t what he envisioned his future to be when he was younger, but fate was cruel. it wouldn’t forgive the sins of those it had no hold over, so it would latch itself onto those around.
it wasn’t fair, but the world was doomed from the start much like his family was. his life was mapped out for him before he could even blink and he had no ounce of control over what happens anymore. he never did, and it was foolish to ever think he could change his destiny like he tried to the mind of the very man that put him in this position.
so he looked away, forcing his eyes to look elsewhere. anywhere else but his reflection like it would ever be enough to forget the eyes he inherited. it wasn’t though. it’s always going to be there. every fucking time it will be right there again, waiting for the pained face he makes to stray back. he can turn his back all he wants, but it won’t follow his movements. instead it’ll creep closer, glass shattering as it reaches for him, clawing at his scarred back and dragging him towards it.
then what?
he can’t escape the blood that so desperately wants to corrode his lungs, fill them up until he’s a sputtering mess. he can’t escape the way it begs to seep out of his torn skin, wanting to cling to every inch of his body until he’s drowning in it. he can’t escape it no matter how far he runs.
it sticks to his shadow, outlining his silhouette even on the darkest of days, trailing into his room right after him. it hovers over him as he hardly even gets his boots off before he collapse on his bed, one hand under his head and the other on his abdomen.
his mind is far too corrupt to ignore it. it lingers as his eyes close, watching, waiting for him to drift off to into a dreamless sleep. seconds pass by, then minutes until it decides to bully its way in again, deciding that it was now it’s home and he was just a mere guest. pulling and plucking at his eyelids, forcing them open as a way to make a statement; there’s no avoiding it. no way around it, to forget it, to bury it. he’s forever damned to be stuck with this torment.
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bardicious · 4 months
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Jim is 26-27 in SNW. 😭😭😭 BABY.
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ronanlynchbf · 9 months
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"all this foreshadowing abt declan dying and then he didn't even die" well personally i think declan got murdered dead by mstief in greywaren so. actually 2 me he did die. Badly.
#like sorry 2 to say it but also not sorry the declan i know would never do to matthew what he did in gw..#like obviously he has done some shit stuff to matthew (and ronan as well. this to mean ronan did shit stuff irt matthew as well not declan#did shit stuff to ronan. though he very much did and vice versa but like not the point here.) BUT i know he would NEVER strip matthew of his#autonomy like that and NEVER for so long. like i didn't write declan lynch as a character but also i know he wouldn't do that. that's his#baby brother........and i know he feels like matthew robbed him of his youth and his life and whoever he would've grown up to be but HE JUST#WOULD NEVER....i know this....like sorry but that is the most awful fucked up shit to do ever in the entire world. someone depends on you#and looks up to you and trusts you and you take away the thing that keeps them awake??? i'd even say the thing that essentially keeps them#ALIVE bc without a sweetmetal dreams aren't really alive they're just sleeping for eternity which is a kind of death. LIKE......#that just baffles me so much u just have to be soooooo uncaring to do that....like if he just did it in the moment of anger - snatched that#pendant off matthew's neck so he fell asleep and declan wouldn't have to deal with him anymore and then immediately afterwards was like.#what have i done this is so fucked up to do to someone. and put the pendant back on matthew. and apologized prefusely for it. that would#have still not been fine but in bouts of anger ppl do stupid desperate things that negatively affect others and it would've been#considerably less fucked up than it is now. like declan kept that pendant away for UP TO TWO DAYS. he drove the whole way back put ronan#somewhere safe carried matthew out of the car and into the house carried him upstairs into the bedroom and put him in bed went back#downstairs went outside locked the car went back into the house ate showered slept woke up ate breakfast again go through the whole day and#NOT ONCE did he think to himself oh this thing i'm doing is genuinely horrible i can't just take away someone's like. awareness. like that#& went to go 'wake' matthew????? NOT ONCE????? ARE YOU BEING SERIOUS???? NOT ONCE IN THOSE ONE AND A HALF OR TWO OR POSSIBLY MORE DAYS???#also just the whole. turning into his father thing. HARD NO. u mean the same declan who hated his father for very right reasons and hated#what he did to the entire lynch family both while he was alive and after he died the same declan that hated all the trading and buying and#selling dream things business and just that underground market in general (that btw. put the family he had left in life-threatening danger.)#the same declan who hated his father for dreaming a more perfect and loving unconditionally copy of his actual mother (rightfully so.) went#on 2 go into the exact business he always hated w/ a fiery passion?? ur also telling me he invited his father's killer to his wedding? fake.#trc#greywaren#<- needs its own tag bc i'm not putting it in the same category as call down the hawk my beloved call down the hawk.#anyway. that entire essay in the tags can be summarized w/: who declan ended up as & his entire arc is SO shit i hate it sm peace n love 🙏#as i've said before. me: mom can we have declan lynch? mom: no we have declan lynch @ home. declan lynch @ home: declan lynch in greywaren.#<<<<< full experience of reading gw. 2 me. ARGHHHH AOUGH THE POTENTIAL IT HAD THE POTENTIAL IT WASTED... IT'S ACTUALLY SO SAD....
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cheekblush · 1 year
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i'll be taking a break from tumblr bc i really need to focus more on my studies 🙈🙊🙉
#i had a panic attack when i woke up this morning my heart was beating so fast#bc it dawned on me how much time i have already wasted and how little time i have left to prepare for my exams#went outside in the cold to breathe some fresh air and calm myself down#my dad was there and as soon as i saw him i started crying..#he embraced me & told me that i don't have to be scared & that everything will be fine he kissed my head & kept holding me#this means the world coming from him bc he's not a man of many words & usually doesn't show a lot of affection#and usually when i complain & whine about my studies he doesn't take me seriously at all & is rather annoyed#but this was obviously very different my heart really hurt from beating so fast & i'm glad he saw that i genuinely needed comfort#i stayed outside in the cold breathing crying looking up in the sky & watching birds until i calmed down a little#and i know i need to delete this app off my phone in order to stop self sabotaging#i waste sooooooo much time on here just endlessly scrolling#this has become somewhat of a safe space for me but i keep neglecting my studies bc of it#like relax the pretty pictures will still be here after you come back not failing your exams is more important!! 😭#i probably should be writing this into my journal instead of here but i haven't been able to find it for months now so 🙃#anyways.. please pray for me that i pass all of my exams at this point i don't even care about my grades anymore i just want to pass!!🙏🏻#stay safe and take care love you all 💗#i might still come on here from time to time to like some posts on desktop but feel free to call me out if you see me on here too much!#☁️
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dadsbongos · 7 months
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then, and again, and once more
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6.9k words
Summary - Yuuji tries to impress you and win your heart, with the help of Sukuna… who seems weirdly knowledgeable about and interested in you.
Warnings - p in v sex, FULL NELSON BABY!!!, yuuji eats pussy :), oh yeah fem reader btw, sukuna is here too (and his cannibalism is mentioned), idiot friends pining for each other, very vague timeline idk but yuuji is aged up
sukuna-centric part 2
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There it is again.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
That unbearable thick bass in his chest, banging so tirelessly against his ribs that it threatens to make him nauseous. A quick inhale and yep - scratch that - he’s definitely already nauseous.
Yuuji sinks his sweaty palms deeper into his pants pockets, eyes darting sharply down to his beaten sneakers. The once vibrant ruby shade is now marred by dirt and aging threads - and if he turns his right foot just so, then he can see an old, blackened stain from pizza sauce he spilled while eating out with you. The memory, or more specifically how you’re giggling in his memory, makes him smile.
And in the real world, Megumi is watching his friend grin ear to ear while looking at a black, crusty splotch on the inside curve of his right shoe. After having just wide-eyed stared at you from across the room while you and Nobara heatedly debate where to go for dinner.
He glares at Yuuji, lashes narrowing, “You look insane. Knock it off.”
That snaps the boy from his reminiscing, and it takes him three long seconds before he registers the insult, “I was thinking!”
“Obviously,” Megumi scratches the side of his nose, more to just have something to do with his hands than anything else, “What were you thinking about?”
Humming quietly to himself, Yuuji shrugs, “Oh, the usual.”
“You’re hopeless,” Megumi maintains his efforts to keep his hands busy by scratching the back of his head, “Just tell her already. What’s the worst that happens?”
“She rejects me and avoids me,” Yuuji pouts, “Honestly, ‘gumi, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic - being a standoffish and awkward guy yourself.”
Swatting at his friend’s shoulder, Megumi shakes his head, “The hell is wrong with you? Was that just sitting in your mind?” he shakes his head again, glare growing stronger, “And don’t call me that.”
“I thought you had anxiety or something,” Yuuji shrugs, “Why else would you be so weird in public?”
Any previous concern regarding Yuuji’s well-being immediately flies from Megumi at that. He folds his arms across his chest with murmurs of hatred floating out from his lips. All as he waltzes over to where you and Nobara are seated around your laptop at the chipping hardwood table.
Yuuji has no problem shrugging off Megumi's irritation, but when it comes to the mere idea of your face stretching in disgust at him - God, isn’t that the worst?
“You’re the worst, brat,” comes that rumbling, terrible voice in the back of his head. The nagging used to sound more like him - and when he’s really stressed, it still sometimes does - but now his own voice has faded into the King of Curses’. Now his own voice is sweeter, more prone to praise and positives - in a weird way, Sukuna has made Yuuji better.
But in a lot more ways -
“Oi, don’t ignore me.”
He’s made Yuuji’s life so much worse.
“You like that one, right? I can help.”
You’re sitting back, allowing Megumi to take the reins on shooting down Nobara’s suggestion for sushi. Normally, that demand isn’t a problem, but this would be the fifth night in a row she’s tried roping you all into ordering sushi for her. You lean into Megumi a little, and Yuuji hates the way his chest tightens at the display.
It isn’t even affection. It’s just…
“You want to be the one she’s on, right?”
Yuuji sighs to himself and sneaks out of the kitchen, though it’s hardly a challenge when Nobara raises her voice to defend her long-lasting cravings.
With tense shoulders and a red face, Yuuji glances down each side of the hall to ensure nobody is nearby, “How could you help with this?”
Sukuna’s eye on Yuuji’s cheek has flitted up to stare into Yuuji’s, and that sickly crawl of his skin stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s wide grin makes his stomach turn, “You’re just a child, you don’t know anything about women.”
Yuuji could double over, hands on his knees and breathless in sputters of laughter, but he refrains - unwilling to let anyone hear his schizophrenic ramblings, “And you do?”
Sukuna’s eye rolls and Yuuji hates the way it feels under his cheekbone, nearly retching in response, “Of course.”
And that strings up some different terrible question in Yuuji, “But why would you help me?”
Sukuna has been so unwilling to do anything useful for Yuuji despite the fact he’s allowed to reside in this body - so what could possibly possess him to do this now?
“Do you want my help or not, worm?”
Yuuji sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, thinking hard about the offer. He’d come to the conclusion not too long after swallowing his first finger to simply not question many of Sukuna’s motives, mostly since his goals are: chaos, women, and chaos.
“This better not be some gross pass at my friend,” Yuuji sneers, body electrified on the ready to smack down his own cheek should he hear an answer he doesn’t like.
Sukuna is too quiet for too long, and Yuuji is fully prepared to swipe at the parasite on his face when finally, that deep voice rattles again. It buzzes in his flesh, uncomfortable and itchy and so quiet he barely hears what the curse mumbles into him.
The boy pauses and lets the words melt on his tongue, he turns them between his molars and laves the roof of his mouth with the remaining implications. He wasn’t expecting Sukuna to be honest, not to that degree at least.
And Yuuji smacks Sukuna’s bulbous eye down anyway.
“Fine then,” Yuuji pulls his hand down and curls his fingers into a fist, another great big awful ragged sigh roughing over his tongue like barbed wire, “I’ll listen to you, but if you ruin this for me- “
“Calm down, brat,” the mouth pops back up stubbornly, bitterly spitting out his version of a promise, “I don’t plan on failing.”
Yuuji pushes himself off the wall and spins back into the kitchen unnoticed, hands locking behind his head as he saddles up beside you at the table, “So, what’s for dinner?”
He snorts at how you groan, looking up at him from your seat with tired, low-lidded eyes and gesturing across the table to where Megumi and Nobara are still arguing, “You tell me.”
“Why don’t we just go out?” Yuuji shrugs, grinning broadly despite the way his two friends both twitch their necks over to glare at him, “Come on, it’s not even dark! We can walk around and do a little looking; get some air!”
Nobara’s pitched shoulders drop, pinched expression falling into her usual lax, she looks over at Megumi again with a raised brow. Megumi shrugs, his own eyebrows still scrunched together, “If it’s fine with you two, I don’t care.”
You snicker, standing up against the stiff wood supports of the chair legs, one elbow digging into the table to further help hold you up while your spare fingers dance up to smooth out the crinkled space, “I think it’ll be fun.”
Megumi snatches you by the wrist and tosses your hand to the side while Nobara hops down from her own chair, stretching out her back until it pops obnoxiously. She’s already bouncing out of the kitchen to snag her shoes before shouting back, “Well, come on! We’re on a timer now, people!”
“Jeez,” you slip off the chair pegs, bumping slightly into Yuuji’s side - entirely oblivious to the sparkly fireworks you sweep across your poor friend’s body at the contact, “Should’ve just suggested that from the start, huh?”
Shrugging, Yuuji waits for you to begin walking out of the kitchen before following, “Sometimes you just need fresh eyes on a situation, you know?”
“I guess,” you fold your arms, evidently frustrated, “Just feel like that was something I should’ve seen.”
Yuuji feels that disgusting, familiar thumping in his chest just by looking at you now. Heat radiating from his cheeks to the expanse of his chest, throat swelling with the uncomfortable need to spill his guts - dump every little thought and feeling he’s ever had for you into your ears until you force him to shut up. Like how he can’t even look at Jennifer Lawrence the way he used to simply because she isn’t you.
Maybe then he’d tell you that this hasn’t happened in the six years since he first saw Silver Linings Playbook. Maybe you’d tell him to stop talking, and that you two would never happen.
Maybe then he can move on, when you crush his hope. But he doesn’t really want that.
And he doesn’t really know why he agreed to let Sukuna lend him any advice.
Oh well.
It’s when you’re rushing out the door to keep up with Megumi and Nobara that Sukuna opens his mouth for the first time.
His voice stabs into Yuuji’s ears, but it isn’t exceptionally as cruel as he usually finds it, this, instead, is purely instructional, “When you two are out tonight, tell her about that cat you saw around the garden today.”
Yuuji scratches through his messily filed memories, “I saw a cat?”
“Yes, twit, a black one. Tell her about how its fur changed color in the sun.”
“Okay…?” Yuuji huffs in his daze, finally putting effort into walking alongside you and the others, “Hey! So, I just remembered something.”
“Oh yeah?” you smile at Yuuji, purely encouraging, and he’s disgusted at the way he almost trips over his own feet.
Nobara and Megumi pay the both of you little mind, instead pointing out different potential favorite hotspots they could creep into for the night. Well, Nobara points out, they could even stop at two places if they’re feeling adventurous. And Megumi says they can do whatever the rest of you think is best.
But Yuuji isn’t listening, and you’re hardly lending an ear, he swallows down the rock in his throat and nods, “I saw a cat this morning - a black one! - and it made me think of you,” the gentle warmth spreading through him could either be the way you’re lighting up at him, or Sukuna silently congratulating his good line, “Its fur was all brownish red in the sun, it was…” your eyes are so starry and sweet, solely on him - it makes his tongue tie up in knots, “It was beautiful.”
“Bummer I wasn’t there, then,” you pout a little, “You need to get me for things like that!” he laughs at the way your face has morphed, all stern and strict business, “Seriously!”
“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, both hands up in playful defense, “I promise to call you if I see another cat.”
“Could’ve at least taken a picture for me,” you histrionically sigh, “And I thought we were friends.”
A sudden thought invades the back of Yuuji’s mind. Some hidden, more primal part of his mind that he doesn’t usually listen to flashes back to a time he doesn’t remember.
We used to be more.
You and him are sitting out in the sun with a fluffy little Bombay cat tucked into your lap. It paws at the buttery dandelions that bloom between you both, his own legs are sprawled out impolitely and your own are crossed to wall around the feline in your hold. His knee knocks against yours whenever he shifts his leg. You lean in, shoulder digging into the meat of his muscled arm and temple resting on his shoulder.
Your body is entirely at ease. His is, too.
Yuuji knows exactly where the thought comes from. And if that dark, creepy place weren’t so infested by evil then maybe he’d feel a little pity for it. But you’re in front of him now, and you’re excited to be here, and your pinky keeps knocking into his as you two walk side-by-side - so there’s no room for pity in his heart.
Your quartet winds up squished into a teal leather booth towards a back corner of Nobara’s selected diner. You and Nobara sit on the interior seats, pressed into the windows, with Yuuji and Megumi caging the both of you in. Megumi having shoved Yuuji down next to you before the boy could even see who was where.
“What were you thinking?” Nobara sits up, jabbing your arm with a manicured finger just to annoy you.
Flicking at her hand, you shrug, focusing on the boards plastered behind the front bar counter for any eye-catching special offers.
Yuuji can feel the tightening of his cheek skin as the eyeball threatens to pop out, it stings when his cheek is forced to split for Sukuna’s eye. His cheek below that parts as well for his lips.
And Sukuna is kind enough this once to be quiet, “Tell her to get the wildfowl bowl,” as if sensing his arising questions, Sukuna continues, “And tell the kitchen worms to make sure the vegetables are soft. Not well, not sturdy,” he sounds disgusted as he says it, “Soft.”
“Hey,” and against everything he’s been told by Gojo, Yuuji puts his entire trust into the curse inside him, “that wildfowl bowl looks good, right?”
You lean closer to Yuuji, arm brushing his as you try to see where he spotted that, “What’s in it? Duck?”
He gives a conformational hum even though he has no idea, “Probably good with soft vegetables.”
Megumi shakes his head, “What does that even mean?”
“When they steam the veggies for longer than usual,” you pat Yuuji’s shoulder while defending him, “I get what you mean, Itadori. Sorry Fushiguro is so judgemental.”
“I was just saying…” Megumi’s voice flutters out of Yuuji’s focus.
Instead, another memory he never made begins to flourish from that black, mushy, rotted back of his brain.
You’re sat in his lap, large thighs perfectly bracketing around your own. A neglected bowl of slim slivers of perfectly browned duck meat sits atop cooling rice, carrots, and green beans. No doubt soft and easy to chew. In your hands is a steaming bowl, larger than the one in your lap, weighed down by thick cuts of juicy meat slabs. Almost like steak, but there’s no outer hide tanned by flame. It’s red, almost raw, and even after trimming the fat - it’s still bathed in pink, fleshy trails.
Grinning so lovingly, you pinch the slabs with your bare fingers and merely giggle when Sukuna’s sharp teeth prick at your skin. His long tongue works to clean your fingers of the excess meat juices as he eats. Two of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady, a third is steadied beside him against the cold bone of his throne, and a fourth resides at the back of your head. Almost big enough to palm the whole of your skull like a children’s ball - he pats and pets and smooths his fingers over the slope of the back of your neck.
Preening under gentle attention, you’re sure to empty Sukuna’s bowl before picking your own back up.
People watch with blood at their feet, none dare to move. Fearful to become the next hot meal in your hand should they disobey Sukuna’s silent command.
As your hands wrap around your cold bowl, a deep grunt reverberates behind you in Sukuna’s broad chest. He tugs the dish from your grasp; plucks the duck meat between his forefinger and thumb and holds it above your nose, forcing you to look up.
He waves it in front of your face, “Open,” and you follow his order, lips parting yet still pitched up in the impression of a pleased smile. And when he flattens the meat to your tongue and you begin chewing - you’re still smiling. That earns another fond stroke down the back of your head, pausing at your shoulder and digging his thumb into the muscle just to hear you sigh, “Good girl.”
Yuuji doesn’t see all of that. He can grasp some vague sense that you two have shared meals he’ll never get to taste, but he never sees the gristle left behind on your fingers or the saliva webbed between your fingers after feeding Sukuna.
That - Sukuna ‘hmph's proudly as he watches you beam at Yuuji over your modern interpretation of your favorite meal - the King of Curses keeps to himself. Selfishly, just as he always has.
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That next morning, you sheepishly prattle into the dusty, creaky classroom with only four rusty, barely used desks and slip into the one by Yuuji. You’re toying with the tips of your hair, eyes bouncing from where Yuuji sits on the desktop beside you and the classroom door.
Nobara sits backward at the desk directly in front of you, arms coiled around the back support of her chair as she speaks and Megumi sits normally beside her - attention solely on his book. Yuuji watches you fiddle with the ends of your hair while pretending to listen to Nobara.
And then he sees it. The new cherry shade decorating your lips, and before Sukuna can sprout and tell him to - Yuuji’s leaning down with his best smile, “New lipstick?”
Jumping at the sudden voice, your rigid posture melts under the boy’s gaze, “Yes, actually. You like?”
It could be puke green and Yuuji would still want it smeared across his face from your kisses.
But despite housing Sukuna Ryomen and battling dreadful curses, Yuuji fails to muster the courage to say that to your face, “Yeah! It’s really pretty.”
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
There goes your annoying heart, hammering just from the sound of Yuuji’s overtly positive lilt. It makes your cheeks burn and fingers skittishly tip-tap against the pencil-scratched desk, “You think so?”
But he’d never lie, you know that.
So even though it shouldn’t be a surprise when he doubles down, your annoying heart won’t stop dramatically tossing itself around when Yuuji nods with a determined, boyish grin, “Definitely.”
It’s all so saccharine and perfect, it makes Sukuna nauseous. Which, in turn, makes Yuuji nauseous.
Face paling, Yuuji jumps onto his feet and excuses himself, rushing out of the room (with no Gojo even in sight, by the way) towards the bathroom.
“Is he okay?” Nobara murmurs, stretching her neck to see outside the door frame, “What a weirdo.”
“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “He is sometimes, huh?”
Megumi gags at your tone, “Seriously…?”
“What was that?” Yuuji’s question is spikey and venomous while he stares into the cracked, water-spotted mirror - straight at the little eyeball on his cheek.
“You two are disgusting,” Sukuna stares back into the glass, low-lidded and unimpressed, “Get this over with and ask her out, brat.”
“But what if she says no?” Yuuji reaches up and toys with the little pink hairs at the back of his head, eyes suddenly unable to meet Sukuna at all, “It’ll totally ruin everything.”
“Enough whining. She won’t say no.”
He doesn’t know how it took so long to recognize, or maybe he just needed an excuse to display his old, unbroken knowledge of you before your fleshly little weakling friends even knew it. But he’s seen the little bursts of color and stars and sparkles and all that cute mess before.
He’s seen it many times. It was the only way you used to look at Sukuna.
That puppyish, lovesick wonder as you fluttered your pretty eyelashes at him.
Even when he would return to you in blood and sweat and muck and smelling of the death and despair he expertly wrought.
You were always at least five paces ahead of Uraume, hands bunching up in the pretty flowing silks that decorated your body. Excitedly, you’d pounce and he would hold you. Sapping up your energy and feeding off the way you’d press cherry-tasting kisses all along his hardened face. You served yourself up to him on a silver platter, all your heart and soul and mind devoted entirely and without ulterior motives. That’s why you were always his favorite.
Nothing before or after you was ever up to par. And he felt disgruntled at every turn into different worshippers and concubines and lovers - somehow wronged simply by the fact they were not as you were. It was all so disappointing.
And every now and again he’d flash back to you while with others. He imagines it’s how children feel when they remember a lost or broken or tossed-out favorite toy. That ache of times lost and never feeling quite fulfilled again.
Which is why when he saw you again through this brat’s eyes, he could instantly remember those nights with you. Full-bellied and raw-lipped and your pulse between his teeth.
But Yuuji knows nothing of that, and so when he returns to the classroom - neither of you says anything.
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It’s only the two of you. Everyone else was cast out in the violent, unwilling acceptance that they had done all they could. With no open wound, there was a horrific list rattled off in Sukuna’s ears. Illnesses and infections that attacked the lungs and nervous system and skin and heart - things that would eat you alive from the inside. And when all could be done about that, you remained in bed.
In and out of consciousness and delusional, proclaiming twisted lights and shadowy creatures trying to rip you from yourself.
Perhaps, one of the women called to care for you shyly spoke up, perhaps she’s just too old.
And that was something he avoided admitting to himself.
But it was time now.
With dew still moist on the blades of grass and morning sunlight streaming through the window beside your bed - the bell tolls. Your fingers are stiff in the sheets, limbs cold and stiff when you’re found. Wide, puppylike eyes gaze up at the ceiling and Sukuna has you buried beneath the tallest, most twisted tree he could find in the surrounding forest. And when Sukuna returns from your grave that night - alone - he crosses into a dark tunnel.
It’s cold and solid beneath his feet, paces echoing back for his ears. He keeps his eyes down to avoid maddening himself over the plainness - the displeasure of even glimpsing this tunnel’s repetitive nature.
Until there’s light, golden, with the shrouded, clumsy shape of twisted branches and lanky trunks coming into view at the far open end.
And faintly, like the sweet singing of a beloved music box, he hears the tune of your voice. A high scoop towards the end.
“Itadori, right?”
Sukuna’s feet move faster before he even fully knows he’s moving.
On the other side is you, a hand jammed out in front of you in a polite wave - as if the both of you are strangers. Then that name creeps back up his spine.
Well, it’s not truly his spine, is it? It’s this new brat’s.
But then there’s your honeyed voice again, “Huh, third eye.”
Right. You wouldn’t remember it, would you?
You wouldn’t remember any of it.
Yuuji shoots up, dark sheets tangled around his ankles and cold sweat beading down his forehead - strings of pink hair matted down to his skin uncomfortably. His wide eyes scramble across the shadows of his room, slowly refamiliarizing himself with the expanse and soothing his pounding heart.
He smoothes back his hair, running through the small kinks and knots, “What the hell was that?”
That slicing pain along his cheek shocks him awake further, but no sore, deep voice follows. The eye sits there, downcast. Sitting inside this body is one of the last things he saw for himself, but to exist beside you again is liquid gold just flowing in a river. A river his new body refuses to swim in.
“She’s still awake.”
Yuuji looks over to the red numbers lighting up from his bedside alarm clock, “It’s midnight.”
Sukuna inhales sharply, irritation scorching a hole in his tongue, but he withholds the many sudden hateful thoughts he has towards Yuuji and simply repeats himself, “She’s still awake.”
“It’s weird how obsessed you are with this,” Yuuji swings his legs over the edge of his bed and slips his feet into the slippers you’d gifted him. They’re cheesy and themed after fire engines and just barely fit, but he wears them at any given opportunity.
The eye sinks back into his skin, lips sealing shut, and a thick sludge boils in Yuuji’s stomach. Quiet King of Curses is an unsettling King of Curses, and Yuuji barely finds himself able to tune out the exhaustive wave of Sukuna’s criticisms. That is much preferred to this buzzing silence.
Creeping down the moaning wooden panels to your room, Yuuji raps his knuckles against your door before immediately shuffling his fists into his gray sweatpants.
Something clatters against hardwood, sheets ruffle, and your footsteps thump, thump, thump up to your bedroom door. Your face peeks out from the sliver of cracked doorway, and there’s no hint of sleep in your gaze. You seem alert, if a little lazily slouched against your doorframe.
“Itadori?”
Oh, right. He was here to say something, wasn’t he?
But he can’t possibly find the strength in his tongue, not when you look at him like that.
With some impossible adoration, like you simply can’t wait to hear whatever stupid bullshit he’s about to spout. He feels so unworthy of it all, and he can’t wait to find out more about you and mold himself to it. To become someone you can’t imagine waking up without. To study and be studied, he’s ready to throw himself into the horrors of being known - if it’s you he’s known by.
The air is punched out of him as he speaks, “Can…” you nod him along, opening your door wider, “Can I kiss you?”
Now that he’s so close to the sugary river, he can’t wait to dive in.
“Seriously?” you laugh in shock at the outburst, but when his face persists, you fling the door open entirely, “Seriously?”
Yuuji winds his hands tighter, to stop himself from desperately clawing his way down your throat, “I like you. I’ve liked you…” he’s unnatural like this, red in the face and dodging your stare, “I don’t even know.”
But you do, you felt it when you first saw him. However, you’re not plagued by the chains of past lives, so the implications are lost. Winding your arms behind your back and grinning at Yuuji with toothy glee, “Me too.”
His eyes nail you with that doughy, desperate plea for attention - the need to be seen as himself. And you’ve always been glad to lend it over in plentiful bounties.
That buzz of silence stabs the both of you.
Until Yuuji can no longer tether himself to his pockets, his big hands gentle as he cups both your cheeks. He molds himself to you, hoping that those troublesome flashes of times he never lived will at least serve his muscle memory now.
Your hands twist into the front of Yuuji’s shirt, nails biting into the black, soft, loose fabric and tugging him closer. Yuuji’s lips are slightly chapped, and you can feel the imprints from where he’s bitten them raw. He hisses when you peek your tongue at the smooth spots.
Wrenching your hands back, you quickly run them under and up his sleep shirt - his skin is warm and he gasps against your lips when your fingertips skim along his sides.
Yuuji pulls back, cheeks flaming, and shoulders his way past your bedroom door, kicking it shut behind him and placing his hands over his shirt - finding yours through the material. He grins, chuckling at how you grope his muscle, squeezing around your hands, “Enjoying yourself?”
“Whatever,” you huff, embarrassed, then ripping your hands out from under his shirt and twisting your fingers between his before - just to prove a point - planting his palms below your own shirt, “You try being normal like this.”
Yuuji’s broad palms are still only burning into the soft flesh of your stomach, but his heart is terribly out of whack.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
“You can go higher,” your voice lilts higher, a mere soft whisper as if anything louder could entirely break the poor boy’s brain, “If you want…”
Of course, he does. He’d trade a thousand years with that Sisyphus guy Megumi mentioned to him just for twelve seconds of his hands sizzling up your body. Maybe even just for the chance.
His hands scope higher, palms glued to the planes of your body like he’s trying to scar himself along your skin. The sudden need to leave some lasting impression that he was there - here with you.
Yuuji does his best not to jump when Sukuna’s voice slithers into his ear, polite enough to whisper so he doesn’t alarm you, “Get her on her back. Tongue her cunt.”
You look at him all sweet and concerned when Yuuji’s nose scrunches, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
But he has no idea how to tell you that Sukuna’s words make his stomach churn, and by the time he even tries to form the words he’s thinking about it. Imagining himself on his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair, and eagerly trying to annoy your friends as much as possible with how loud he can make you. And he feels so, so lightheaded at that.
Yuuji’s eyes are wide, staring into yours with such fire that it almost makes you shy away, “Can I eat you out?”
But you brave his dissecting gaze, heart pounding in your ears.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
And, oh, Yuuji could just about die happy right now.
On his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands screwed into the twirls of his tousled hair and (hopefully) annoying at least a nosy Nobara should she be listening to your soft moans next door.
Yuuji wiggles his tongue into your weeping hole, nestling his nose against your clit with a wheezy little whine. His eyes flutter up at you through the gaps between your shaking arms.
“Get your hands in there,” Sukuna’s voice is muffled against the thickness of your thigh, “Thumb her clit, don’t rely on your nose.”
Crinkling his brows, Yuuji has to bite back his remarks about how Sukuna could’ve told him that sooner. Snaking his right hand over your leg, Yuuji flattens his large hand against your lower stomach and pins your bucking hips. His thumb taking residence on your swollen clit, the bridge of his nose still saddled beneath it.
Your back arches, hips grinding down into Yuuji’s thumb and tongue. He’s messy with it - head shaking just to tease and feel the wetness of your pussy slip and slather across his chin. He tongue-fucks you in earnest, practically moaning into you as he grinds against the mattress. Swishing his thumb against your clit faster when he can feel you tighten around him, chasing the feeling of you cumming all over his face.
He can hear it despite his desperation - the way your breath hitches and throat cinches out a squeal. Your thighs squish around his head and Yuuji has to force his hips still lest he be submitted to the horrors of cumming in his pants.
And it isn’t even the fear of your reaction - no, he knows better than to think you’re capable of making him feel shame. It’s just-
“Yes,” Sukuna’s voice is husky, tongue lolling out along Yuuji’s cheek to lather up your juice, “Yes!”
Yuuji knows exactly who will be making fun of him instead. He smacks at the unwanted presence and takes it as pure luck when Sukuna actually stays down.
He works his tongue out of you slowly, letting you whine and huff the way off your high naturally before peeking up at you. He’s grinning, eyes wide and hands retreating to dig hungrily into the meat of your thighs.
“Hey, I wanna try something,” Yuuji’s shamelessness in licking at his soaked lips makes heat flush all the way to your forehead, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
You nod sheepishly, body jittery with the little bugs crawling beneath your sweltering skin. Yuuji bends to the sudden thought he’s sure has something to do with the curse inside him with a mysterious catalog on all things you.
Yuuji slips onto his back beside you, curled against the cold wall corning your bed with his feet flat against the mattress and legs bent. He uses the unnatural well of strength he’s harbored since birth to squeeze at the fat of your sides and lift you atop of him. He can feel the warmth of your cunt on his pelvis and it wracks him with a shiver, you whine helplessly when his right hand immediately welds to your slit. His index and ring fingers part your lips so his middle can swipe coyly over your clit.
“Hah,” you watch his ring finger abandon its post to join the rude teasing, “Yuuji…”
“I know,” Yuuji sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glued to where your wetness drips onto his skin, his hard cock peeking up between your legs, “I know, I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Especially when he’s continuing to tease you while pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, serious now,” but he dips his fingers lower and prods at your hole, “Serious.”
You giggle, hot-faced, at his focused gaze, “Yuuji!”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he spreads your lips again just to stare from over your shoulder, voice hoars when he finally speaks up, “Alright. Serious now.”
Reaching between your legs, Yuuji grabs hold of his cock - hissing at the contact - and is internally grateful when you raise your hips to meet his head. He presses his forehead against your shoulder when his tip pushes inside you. You feel the hot puffs of air he sends against your back as you continue lowering yourself. He whimpers, the hand at his base flying across your abdomen and gripping your breast. He squeezes and pinches and tries suffocating the embarrassing little noises escaping his lips when you rock your hips down on his pelvis.
“Okay down there?” you twist your head to look back at Yuuji and you’re so glad you did.
He’s flushed down to his chest and his lashes are kissing his cheeks to keep himself together, when he finally opens his eyes fully and looks up at you. His bottom lip is red and puffy from how hard he’d been biting it, “Now I’m gonna do something new.”
This wasn’t new?
Yuuji’s arms stretch under the backs of your knees and come over your shoulders before winding behind your neck, pressing his palms flat against the back of your head. Your arms dangle uselessly at your sides, hands stretching out to graze his ribs and legs bouncing limply as he manhandles you.
His cock bullies itself in your cunt, hips jerking up into the fat of your ass.
Yuuji tries to suffocate down his groans in favor of your sweet moans being punched up from your gut every time he sweeps deep inside you. His lips press tightly just as your own pop open for adorable “ah, ah ah!”s - fighting to maintain his pace despite how badly he wants to pin you to his body and wallow through the wetness sucking him back in for every thrust. Feel your sweaty skin slide and stick against his and whine at the pulling sensation when you peel apart.
Another sudden idea pops into his brain and it’s almost instinctual how he follows it. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going to complain about being brain-blasted with memories that aren’t his if it means not having to hear Sukuna’s voice while fucking you.
Hips never falter in their snaps up into you, Yuuji cranes his neck to teeth at the meat of your nape. He bites possessively and grunts in response to your immediate pitchy moan. Then licking over the marks apologetically.
You try to smother down your breathless moans as Yuuji bullies his cock repeatedly into that spongy spot shooting stars behind your eyes. With an angle and drive and care you’re sure would be lost on any man other than Yuuji - and you’re dumbly struck by the hope that maybe this hard work is only because he’s here with you. And that coherent thought is fucked out of you with Yuuji’s next whimpered request.
“Don’t do that,” he gasps when you tighten around him after a particularly rough thrust, “Please don’t keep it down- wanna…” he moans and the sound flutters straight to your tightening gut, “Wanna hear you so bad, pretty girl.”
Unlatching your teeth from the plush of your bottom lip, flames lap through the wiry twists of your veins - burning through the stretch of your skin and scarring Yuuji. And he eats it up and greedily begs at your feet for more. It shames Sukuna just as much as it excites him to taste the salt on your skin through his vessel’s tongue and watch the way your legs shake and bounce under his vessel’s iron hold. His favorite way to have you and your favorite way to take him.
Yuuji unwinds one of his arms from behind your neck, lowering half your body slightly to swipe his fingers between the junction of your thighs. Right over the slippery spot where you’re creaming on his cock and taking the soaked fingers to your clit. His canines and soft lips battle for a monopoly of your neck and shoulder, swiftly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers as his hips continue fucking you stubbornly.
“Hng, Yuu…!” you gasp, head throwing back and narrowly missing his - the coil winding tighter and tighter and your walls milking Yuuji tighter and tighter, “Yuuji!”
“I know, baby,” he kisses up your bent neck and presses his flaming cheek against yours, “God, please, cum for me. Cum for me,” his hips stutter, and his breath hitches and oh, he’s so close, “I wanna feel you cum on me, baby- I need it. Need it so bad.”
“Oh, Yuuji,” you dig your face closer to his as if trying to meld yourselves into one body, “‘m cumming,” you clench and he’s damn near wheezing, the knot in his lower belly popping as he feels you cum and drips down his balls, “‘m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…!”
And just to avoid embarrassing himself from admitting he’s in love with you while spitting his own cum in your warm, wet walls, Yuuji strangles down his own final cries with a coppery, abusive bite to his bottom lip.
It starts to hurt, how he overstimulates himself through his slowing thrusts - letting you slip down onto his thrumming, sticky chest. Your legs sprawled across his sides, Yuuji slipping his softening cock from your hole.
You lazily roll off of Yuuji, landing face-first into your sheets at his side.
Yuuji can hear it again, that terrible, grating voice telling him, “Clean her, brat.”
And what’s the most terrible is he knows Sukuna’s command is entirely warranted. Flopping a hand onto your back, Yuuji traces heart shapes into the skin as he talks, “I’ll be right back.”
And when Yuuji’s wetting a soft, clean cloth he braved the hallway (nude) to retrieve from his room, he hears that voice again. It echoes in your bathroom.
“I want a turn when she’s awake,” a pause, “Fully awake.”
“Aren’t you charitable?” Yuuji rolls his eyes.
And that same utterance from hours before rings through Yuuji’s ears once again. Why Sukuna cared so much about petty crushes. Why Sukuna bothered himself by actually giving genuine, helpful points. Why Sukuna was fascinated by you.
“She was my most devoted and favorite lover in her past life.”
The way he says it inspires no respect for Yuuji - underlined in his thriving desire to be worshiped, as he imagines he deserves. Yuuji wouldn’t dare uphold you to that.
When he tenderly presses his thumbs into stiff muscles with a red flush and warm smile, Yuuji knows that for sure.
“Can I stay the night?” he whispers, folding his discarded towels and lazily tucking them by your bedpost on the floor. He feels that same hurried ache in his chest, awaiting for your impatience.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
You hum, lifting your head off the pillow and snickering, your drowsy face pinched to look at him like he’s stupid, “Duh.”
Giddy, Yuuji slips under the blankets he’d slid over you after cleaning the mess from between your thighs, and slots himself right next to you.
Rolling again, you twist into an open space against Yuuji’s chest and under his thick arm. Warmth drapes across your shoulders when he rests that arm over you. He circles his other arm around you and squeezes, grinning so hard he can feel it burning in the balls of his cheeks. Your ear rests against Yuuji’s chest, and you soothe yourself to slumber on the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
Blissfully unaware of the fact that when your bones are rotten and six feet deep, two more people will be curled into each other’s arms. With your same starry eyes that some pink-haired kid falls in love with every time they’re on him.
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jinkiezzsstuff · 1 month
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Hello dear!! I have a request for the Radio Demon
Do you mind writing sub!Alastor? Imagine your in lobby of the hotel with your beloved Alastor (on his lap) and you decide to do some frisky cockwarming with him.. well in the beginning he has control but then maybe Charlie or Lucifer u walks in.. you decide to tease him until he can't take it anymore and ends up having to cover his moans as he gums in you..
Welp! That's my request🎀 you can delete this ofc but do as you will ~
from windigo anon🦌
i’m drooling, frothing at the mouth, going insane, i love this idea!!! eeeee thank you so much i hope this was good enough i struggled a bit with cockwarming so i hope i did well
Warnings: 18+ SMUT, cockwarming, SUB!Alastor/DOM!Reader, creampie, possible breeding kink, exhibitionism, Lucifer knows what you’re doing, he’s the devil, and you use him to tease Al, jealous lucifer, lucifer is a cuck lowkey, reader wears a dress but no gendered terms or anything, maybe threesome elements?, OOC ALASTOR, NOT proof read, LMK what i missed! xo
word count: 1.9K
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You and Alastor have been a thing for a very long time, and throughout the years he’d become rather comfortable with sexual intimacy. Alastor always held the reigns no matter where in life he was, that is excluding the bedroom. Alastor had made a foolish deal with you long ago, he wanted your soul and you were a fairly powerful demon at the time so there was a sit down conversation about such endeavours. You agreed to sell your soul and tie yourself to him, complete all tasks he needed done, so long as he was your bitch. Well, that wording wasn’t used back then, nor was there any sexual innuendos in the mix.
Before it simply meant he couldn’t try to place fear into you, he always had to speak truthfully when it came to you, and if plan involved you, essentially to the outside world he was allowed to look like the boss but behind closed doors he wasn’t allowed to pull that stunt. You two ended up getting along quite nicely as the years went by, your magic side of the deal made it so if he broke his promises, the deal would be off and more then likely fatal to the both of you, so it wasn’t too surprising things went well.
What was surprising was the relationship you developed, Alastor was unable to lie to you about most things due to your deal and most of the time you approached him as a peer lacking judgement. Even when you disagreed with his plans you still still gave your genuine advice and thoughts which made him trust you. Slowly through this weird bond of trust and leaning on each other, Alastor developed romantic feelings and thank god you felt them back.
Alastor was slow to warm up to affections, which meant you normally took over, letting him keep his poise and smile you’d always make the first move, asking for consent to push further whether it was a simple hug, kiss, or a little more frisky. Eventually though, things got to the point they’re at now, where Alastor craves you like his lungs crave air. He is ravenous for your touch, your kiss, your head surrounding his cock. It’s a tough couple months during mating season because he begs and begs for you like a starved man.
Because of his eagerness for you, and to please you, he’s very kindly broadened his horizons leading to absolutely tasteful trying of kinks. Recently the two of you have been planted at the hotel, Alastor called upon you the day he got there, and privately when alone explained his plans with the Devils child, your man had always been an ambitious one, but you couldn’t say no to him. So of course you stood alongside his plans, and now you’re not only dealing with the Devils child, but the devil himself.
Lucifer moved himself in after the big ol’ brawl, and thankfully things have gone somewhat smoothly between Alastor and Lucifer, as in they haven’t killed each other yet, but Lucifer made it his absolute mission to try and “steal you away,” like he did with Adam. Obviously you were committed to Alastor, but your mind would wander to sinful places about all the ways you could show Lucifer how much you loved you deer man. Oh and you just knew how.
Alastor sat in the lobby, looking through a newspaper as he sipped his coffee, music humming softly in the background. The whole lobby was vacant, even Husk was gone for the moment, you made sure of it. Walking into the lobby from the kitchen, your dress flowing around your legs, you walked up to Alastor with a warm smile on your face. “What’re you up to my dear?” You ask softly, making him hum eyes shifting from his newspaper to you, dragging up your form. “Just a little bit of reading, nothing much my doe,” Alastor seemed sleepy almost in the state he was in, his voice was soft and lacking his usual enthusiasm, however it wasn’t a state you were unfamiliar with knowing him for so long.
Slowly you lowered yourself sideways onto his lap, he complied with your actions wordlessly by whisking his newspaper away with his magic, allowing you to scootch yourself right up on him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you played with the short hairs at the base, causing him to visibly shiver. Alastor smiled down at you softly, watching you tenderly. “I feel,” You whispered with a pause, mimicking somebody taking a thoughtful breath. “Needy.” You breathe out with a cheesy smile plastered on your face. Alastor jolts a bit still entirely not used to forward language such as that, but he didn’t say anything simply blinked at you.
“I think i’m gonna lift this dress up, and your gonna unbuckle these pants, and i’m gonna seat myself nice n comfy on ya,” You purred hands messaging all around his chest as you spoke, trailing down to the button of his slacks and back up to his shoulders. You felt him twitch against his pants, the blood obviously was already flowing to his groin. “Dear we’re in public.” Try as he may, Alastors words were wobbly and his smile looked more like a grimace.
“No baby, we’re in private, in our new home, at the hotel, where no one can see.” You cooed condescendingly, pulling your hands away to hike up your dress. Alastor dared to looked down as you bunched your dress at your hips. Alastor closed his eyes, head falling back at the sight of you bare, nothing but your dress skirt keeping you covered. Turning yourself around, you put your back to him, grinding yourself down on him teasingly.
“Y’know what to do, don’t make me say it dear.” Your voice was stern compared to the tone you held before, Alastor blew out air at your words, head still thrown back at rest on the back of the sofa. Finally he brought his hands from the resting position next to him, and freed himself from his slacks and boxers. You sighed happily as you slowly inched your way down on him, Alastors hands gripped your hips harshly, and his legs kicked out and spasmed every inch you took down.
Once buttoned out, you fixed your gown to flow around you, and backed yourself up against his chest, head rested on his shoulder. Brining his head up to gaze down at you, Alastor gave you a questioning look, sweat already gathering on his forehead. “Dear please-” Alastors words got caught off by a boisterous call, and the front door swinging open. Fixing his posture, Alastor snapped into position, positioning his legs up right feet on the floor, straightening his back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up with him.
“Hellloooo everybody! Just had an amazing meeting, everything went in my favour, as always.” Lucifer waltzed in swinging his cane. He briefly paused scanning the room to see only you two sitting stiffly. You were more relaxed, eyes littled with an easygoing smile, Alastor however was tense; his smile was tight and unfriendly, with his eye twitching. “Well hello there you two, lovely to see you here.” Lucifer smiled happily plopping himself on the couch next to you, making you two shake.
The small bit of motion from Lucifer throwing himself down, made you clench, your arousal leaking down Alastors cock and onto his pants. Clearing his throat to suppress a moan, Alastor then gave a tiny ‘hello’ to the devil. Turning your body more toward the devil, you made sure to pick yourself up off Alastor a bit, and lower yourself back down, making him sink his nails into you.
Wrapping one arm around Alastors neck, you leaned sideways against him, facing Lucifer, your skirt successfully obstructing the entire view of your sin. “Do tell Luce.” You urge pretending to care, Lucifer caught on to the strange behaviour immediately however he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it yet, so he pushed on shrugging and explaining his meeting. You coyly moaned occasionally throughout his explanations playing it off as “oh”s and “ah”s to his story rather than Alastors twitching cock.
Leaning forward Alastor stuck his blushing face in your hair, breathing heavily into it. “Is he doing okay?” Lucifer asked suddenly, quirking a brow at Alastor. Around your waist Alastors arms tightened, and his legs once again spread and splayed out a bit allowing him more space. Alastor felt pitiful, but in a way he loved it, only you had this power and nobody else, he could live with that. Alastor was too blitzed out to realise he’d subtly humped up into you, needing some sort of release. Playing with Alastors hair, you shrugged your shoulders at the devil, your poise still in tacked.
“Yes, I do believe he’s a little sickly.” Lucifer noticed the twitch in Alastors hips now, his eyes growing in size every so slightly. “Yknow i just want to stay something Lucifer,” You begin to say, eyeing Al from your peripheral, seeing his eyes closed. “I really think we ought to stop with the battle, Alastor treats me very well, very good,” You purr fixing your posture, making Alastor groan into your hair.
“I think it’s time to stop with the whole ‘i could take your partner’ shtick.” You say sharply, with finality, Lucifers eyes at this point were flicking back and forth between the two of you, a prominent blush on his face. You grinned cheekily once again and shifted again trying to fix yourself to face forward again, as you did so you heard Lucifer take a breath to speak, but it got interrupted by a guttural groan from Alastor.
Without warning Alastors legs flexed his hips jerking involuntarily up against you, it caught you off guard and made you gasp and moan. It didn’t stop after one thrust, Alastor sunk his teeth into your shoulder jerking his hips up into you, panting and groaning without care. With one forceful thrust and growl, you whined feeling him force himself against you fully, cumming far up into you, stealing your breath. Lucifer watched bug eyed and taken aback, he never saw Alastor so pleasured, now he felt a ping of jealousy; before this moment he wanted to steal you away to show you how much better he can fuck you compared to Alastor, now he wanted you to fuck him and make him feel the way Alastor felt now.
Alastors form grew demonic, stretching and contorting, you still in his lap. You didn’t move an inch as he contorted, not afraid of Alastor what so ever. Alastors neck snapped inhumanely to Lucifer. “You are to never speak of this again.” Alastors voice didn’t sound like his own when he spoke, and whether or not Lucifer was truly scared didn’t matter as he fumbled, stuttered and then stumbled off covering his eyes and apologising. With the snap of his fingers, Alastor magicked the two of you in the safety of his radio tower, where no one dared to enter unwelcomed. “Dear, that was unacceptable. But amusing, you get away with this little fiasco only because it was Lucifer you did it in front of.”
Alastor growled at you demonic form on display, smile stretched, he had your cheeks tightly pinched in between his nails. Shrugging your shoulders, you tiptoed up to give his teeth a coy kiss. “Whatever maybe now he’ll leave us alone.”
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tender-rosiey · 10 months
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since requests are open, i wanted to ask for pregnant!readerxgojo where the reader is currently 9months pregnant with her first child and is grocery shopping with gojo
details — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: husband!gojo is attentive and I don’t take any criticism on that
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"satoru, get up."
"but I don't wanna!"
taking a deep breath, you thank the heavens for having a husband like gojo. it really prepares you for having a child of your own. you would like to bet that gojo is more difficult than any child out there but you still have to deal with him right now.
you cross your arms and huff, "satoru, we need to go grocery shopping."
satoru grumbles and cuddles the pillow closer. his eyes drifts to you, his pretty wife, and then to your stomach. his lips curve into a small smile and he sighs happily. you're pregnant and soon, you will finally be able to see your little girl.
he will finally be able to hold her in his arms. the thought itself makes him giddy.
"you're really going to leave your very pregnant wife go shopping all by herself?" you pout but he doesn't concede.
he sits up, stretching, "are you implying that my wife is weak?"
"of course not, I am a strong and capable woman on my own!"
he makes his way to you and pulls you close. you look up at him and tilt your head with a cheeky smile, "so you going?"
he hums and presses a kiss to your shoulder, "I can't leave my girls alone, after all," his hand rests on your stomach, "though, I am sure my pretty girl here will protect her mama well."
and it's like she hears and understands him as she lightly kicks. satoru beams then looks you in the eye, "I think I am going to be her favorite," he teases, expecting you to bicker with him, tell him that the favorite will obviously be you.
he wasn't prepared to be met with a gentle smile and eyes so full love it almost scares him.
he gravitates towards your touch anyway cause who is gojo if not a lover of adventure?
the caress of your hand has him melting to putty. you then speak up with a content sigh, "well, you are my favorite so it would be nice if she shares the same sentiment as her mama, no?"
he nods with smile, closing his eyes for a moment then abruptly straightening himself, "okay!" he claps his hands eagerly, "time for shopping!"
so now you two are grocery shopping, more like you though. you look through different brands of each thing and you try to take satrou's opinion. but he is as useful as the shopping cart he is pushing.
"satoru, should I pick this or this?"
"I don't see the difference?"
still, he does provide good company and there are some things that he gets that make you want to hug the hell out of him. for example, you were troubled between two types of spreads and satoru came to the rescue.
he read the ingredients then chose one right away. a part of you thought that he didn't actually give it some thought but then he speaks up, "you're allergic to the other one and it has some ingredients that you hate, sweets," he looks at you, confused, "that should've been an easy choice."
your eyes tear up and you pull him into a tight hug, "SATORU, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!"
and the way he lights up at your affection is so very cute. he returns the hug tenfold—mindful of the little girl in you.
another thing that satoru is pretty good at while shopping with you is attracting attention. attention that he eats up like no other.
he poses and entertains the kids. he is chatting with the aunties and you’re left squeezing the hell of one poor bell pepper. you did bring up putting a leash on him, but, of course, he was encouraging of the idea to the point you had to smack him with a pillow.
“papa needs to be humbled, huh, baby?” you hum to your baby with a smile.
though, something that satoru never lets you forget is that even if he enjoys the attention from others, he truly only craves yours and only yours. one way he does is through his eyes. even when everyone’s focus is on him, his eyes are on you, so full of yearning and adoration.
and both of you know, that at the end of the day, he comes back to you. just like now.
“y/nnn! look what I got!”
you look at him and your jaw drops. satoru is all smiley and joyful…and he has about 10 bags worth of baby clothes, “satoru—I—what—why?!”
he takes his sweet time answering you, “yes: you, baby clothes for our princess, and because she deserves to be spoiled!”
“you just got 20 last week?!”
“I never said I was a ‘careful’ spender,”  he starts rummaging through one of the bags and gets out a box of jewelry, a filled to the brim box of jewelry, “I got you these as well! I remember you brought 2 new dresses and there were others that you couldn’t find matching jewelry for so—are you crying?”
forgetting about the bags, he pulls you into am embrace and coos, “aww, my pretty girl is all sentimental," his thumbs wipe the tears so naturally and he presses sweet kisses to your cheeks, "hormones got you all messed up, baby?"
“I don’t care about the jewelry.”
“ouch.”
you sniffle, “it’s just the fact that you remember these things that gets me all soft.”
“of course, I do!” he starts squeezing your cheeks together, “you’re my baby, my mochi, my honey bunny, my pumpkin—“
whining, you push his hands away, “satoru, people are watching!”
“so?”
you grumble, giving up on literally everything, “let’s just go home,” you yawn a little, “I am feeling a little tired anyways.”
satoru starts carrying the bags right away and he does it with so much ease, you would think he is just folding a piece of paper. on top of that, he doesn’t leave your side and makes sure that he’s there for you to rest or steady yourself.
you don’t get very far though.
“satoru.”
“yes, pretty?”
“my water broke.”
“WHAT?!”
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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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privitivium · 10 days
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ok but how about a dom reader whos always busy (workaholic and shi) x an always clingy n touchy sub yan.
like. reader is never at home. and when he finally come back ends up doesn't paying that much attention to yan, sayin 'im too tired' or going to his home office. eventually being followed by yan cause omfg poor boy is basically starving for a little bit of attention. he still declines yan's pleadings tho
then one day this man shows up earlier and completely EAGER for his yan. idk what more can i say. breeding? degradation? daddy kink? dumbification? what could happen when theyre feeling so fucking needy for each other?
(also i love your writing so so much!!!!!!! <3
workaholic male reader, clingy sub yandere ^ rambles. euugh
dumbification works w either imo, reader fucking lover til hes stupid while simultaneously fucking his lover stupid?!
amab//domtop reader/subbot yandere, cw;; breeding, daddy kink, dumbification xd wanna rework this into a more ,,, eloquent fic. soon. have been busy. i really liked this idea so. will do on my own soon.
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workaholic you, growing super distant… obviously making your lover paranoid. because what if you're cheating on him? you aren't, of course - he knows that, but he cant stop those kinds of thoughts from popping into his mind…!!! humping your pillow to ease himself while ur at work, watching the camera feed of you in your office… sigh…. often hearing the dreaded words accompanied by a soft simple pat on his back - not even a kiss... "sorry... please, baby, not right now. i'm too tired." he sobs himself to sleep, knowing you're only providing for him,,,, it hurts!!!
all his worries wash away when you arrive home earlier than usual! concerned, but all the more happy to see you appear in the doorway of your home… breathing ragged, looking all dark and mysterious,,,, the mere sight of you looking all deranged makes him hot and bothered. ignoring the way his dick twitches to life, uhmㅡ
"honey? why are you home so early, sweetheart?” draping himself across your front in a very affectionate hug. he couldnt help himself-! and, much to his delight you were not pushing him awayㅡand practically throwing yourself onto him?!?! hh..h.hh...
there you were,,, grasping his face in your hands, pressing your lips against his so hungrilyㅡ “i need youㅡneed you. need you.” expressing your apparent neediness over and over as you bury your face in the crook of his neck ㅡ he was startled, but so fucking eager to comply? feeling the way your boner presses against him? you were that eager for him just as he is you???,,,,, he nearly faints. tearing up with a now raging erectionㅡ “please, baby, i need you - i need you reallyㅡreally badly-” so fucking happy as he completely smothers you in his love,,,
you don't need to tell him twice,,, throwing the front door closed…,,, leading him to the bedroom, covering his face in kissesㅡeven when there was a perfectly good couch right there to make love on. he won't complain,,,, hes gotten used to the null feeling of toys...,,, so, feeling the very loving embrace of your dick filling him up overstimulates him rather.,,, quickly!!! thinking about how truly awful you are to neglect this pretty litte thing, how could you? so, so very awful.
your darling little lover sobbing on your cock… he's so beautiful - experiencing his love and affection for the first time in forever? berating yourself for being so distant,,, pouring all your frustration at yourself into his flexing taut hole,,,, “mm-misssed you… s-so mu-uch daddy-!” he doesn't seem to catch what he just moaned… too drunk on the feeling of your cock pistoning in and out of him - it feels otherwordly?!
and, i mean. going along with it. with ease, because he deserves everything. especially, anything for your darling lover who just wants affection, your love!!! laughing breathlessly as you piston your hips against his, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head - peppering his face in kisses, “daddy's right here, sweet thing - n-never leaving again, y'hear?” it was… a little odd, but fitting. afterall, you're pumping load after load - breeding him. obviously you'd be the daddy in this situation…,,,,
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