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angelfrombeneth · 4 months

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LET ME BE THE JUDGE OF THAT - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Enzo are best friend, you have a bi-weekly gossip session at the astronomy tower during your bi-weekly smoke break. During said gossip, Enzo drops some juicy goss about a certain slytherin boy and how he's 'packing', iygwim ;)

Warnings: SMUT, Switch Theo and Reader, Mentions of Smoking, Graphic descriptions of sex, Slight Male!Receiving Oral, Squirting

A/N: I apologise for any spelling mistakes or slightly off sentences. I did proof read but I am dyslexic with acrylics on so my spelling gets progressively worse.

Theodore Nott. The man he was. He was one of your friends, he was in the group of the original slytherins from day dot. You always harboured something towards him - you just didn't know if it was feelings or pure lust. The man was an absolute pantie dropper. He just got even hotter with puberty.

Though he wasn't as much as a whore as Mattheo, he definitely stuck his dick in a few things (stupid bitches). There were many rumours about him but no one knew it was real, no one kiss and told with him. For all you knew he could've been an absolute virgin. But one of the rumours was true, Enzo mentioned over your bi-weekly free period cig break in the Astronomy tower.

"Oh! I've got some goss for you" Enzo chuckled as he pointed his slender fingers at you. His cigarette perfectly slotted inbetween his index and middle.

"What?" You looked over at him intruiged, as you stayed sat against the railing of the tower, your feet dangling over the old cobble below.

"Theo" He smirked. If you were a dog your ears would've perked up. The way your body instantly sat up straight away as you looked over at him more alert than ever. Your hand paused infront of you, the cig butt burning out. "Its big" He winked.

"Oh fuck off 'Zo" You took a puff from your cig, letting it hit your throat before exhaling. "You're full of shit, I'm not sitting here and listening to you bullshit another stupid 'Big Dick of Hogwarts' again. Do you know I actually got with Adrien just to fucking see" You rolled your eyes.

Enzo laughed "Did you actually?!"

You nodded as you inhaled the smoke from your cigarette, flicking the end as ash fell from the tip. "Well embarassing too, was so turned off at the.. what 3 inches I had to work with, just walked out" You groaned.

Enzo snickered but collected himself. "I'm serious though, it's literally huge. He sent a picture to the lads groupchat-"

"Why?" You cut him off

"We wanted to compare dick sizes so we measure it against our DADA text books" Enzo shrugged.

"You lot are fucking stupid..." You shook your head. "But.. out of interest where abouts was it? Would you say centered with the authors name in the centre or? I know the book is 15 inches tall" You spoke, putting out your cig on the metal bar.

"Jesus fucking Christ you are a freak" Enzo laughed putting out his cigarette beside yours. "But it was to the title lettering"

You stood up in shock. "You're saying Theodore Nott has a 9 inch penis.."

"How do you know the size- Wait I'll just show you" He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pulling up the groupchat and showing you the picture. Now with Enzo, if you couldn't guess it by now, he was the male gay of the group - him and Pans representing the rainbow together. You all thought it would be Blaise he turns out he ended up hitting it off well with Luna Lovegood.

"No.. fucking way" You gripped the muggle phone as you stared at the picture. "This makes me want to fuck Theo even more 'Zo. I've been toying with the idea but fuck this solidifies it"

Enzo laughs "Well he's been having a 'dry spell at the moment' said he can't get it up because of an 'inconsistency' he said but he won't tell anyone. Sounds like he's seen something that'll only make him hard".

"Inconsistency? Pfft, I'll be the judge of that" You smirked.

"Oh I bet you will" He snickered.

"Jesus, this cig break was crazy" You laughed, giving Enzo his phone back and the two of you walked down the steps of the tower.

"I'll update you if I hear anything more from Mr 9 inches" Enzo winks.

You shook your head bidding him a goodbye.

Later that day, You made your way into the dungeons, walking to Enzo's dorm to tell him about the crazy fight between Astoria and a random Ravenclaw over Draco.

"Zo you'll never fucking believe it. Astoria ate shit today and got her ass handed to by a Raven...claw-" You flung open the door, looking up and locking eyes to chest with a very naked, towel covered sadly, Theo.

"My eyes are up here bella" He smirked.

You gawked at him, shocked to see him, especially how chiseled he was... as your mouth practically salivated at the sight of him.

"Bella?" Theo chuckled at your frozen figure.

"Respectfully Theo, I've always found you so fucking hot. But now I'm going to have to definitely suck you off" You smirked up at him.

He snickered as he gazed at you. His tongue running across his bottom lip before biting it. "You really dont play around... Come on then"

You slammed the door behind you as you lunged yourself at Theo, crashing your lips onto his. His hands roaming your body as your slid from his shoulders to his damp chest. Your fingers working through the crevasses slowly.

"My.. my.. So eager" He laughed as you pushed him back against a bed while yanking at the towel watching as he caught himself with his hands on the bed, sitting up as he supported himself completely naked.

You bit your lip as you dropped to your knees. "Fuck.. Enzo wasn't lying" You placed your hands on his thighs.

"What?" Theo froze.

"Enzo showed me your dick pic.. Its even bigger in person though" You bit your lip.

"Fucking Enzo.. So you saw my cock and now wanna suck it because of a picture?"

"Yeah pretty much" You licked a stripe up the base of his shafts to the tip as you peered up at him smirking as he let out a shaky gasp.

"You are a weird one Y/N.. Now hurry up before I fuck your face with it" He groaned slightly agitated at being teased.

"He also said about your inconsistency to get it up Nott.. you seem to not be having an issue" You smirked as you took his length into your hands as you jerked him off slightly as you kissed up his pelvis.

"Don't act so suprised bella.. We both know it was because of you and that cheeky thong of yours. Why'd you think that was OK?" Theo sighed as he bit his lip peering down at you.

"Me?" You questioned.

You peered outside your door, looking left and right before slithering out. You really wanted to grab some water from the kitchen but it was so late and you couldn't be asked to wait till breakfast.

You snuck out the common room, running down to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water but also stealing a few biscuits while you were at it.

You had successfully made it back to the common room, slowly walking down the stairs before turning to walk up the stairs to your dorm. You felt a presence near you but you, looked around and saw no one. So you shrugged it off.

Third POV

"Fuck-" Theo hissed as he flicked his cigarette out the window as he stared at your figure stood at the end of the stairs.

The way you stood in your little black knee high socks, paired with an absolute ravishing black lace thong - leaving nothing to Theo's imagination. Not only that, a tiny crop top with underboov practically spilling out. Theodore was spoilt by this view. He noticed you didn't notice him as you crept back upstairs. The growing tent in his joggers as he stood up to readjust but ending up moaning at the slight friction of the fabric.

What you didn't know, is that night Theo went and jacked off 6 times thinking about you. He'd never came so much, let alone been so weak for anyone. You were all he could think about for weeks. Even when he came to the situation of fucking a random ass Ravenclaw after a party, he couldn't get it up. It wasn't until he thought about that night. You. He could. He ended up ploughing the fuck out of that poor Ravenclaw imaging the girl was you. After that he vowed to celibacy until he could get his hands on you.

"What are you talking about" You laughed as you kitten licked his tip, staring up at him as he fought back his moans. His fists whitening as he clenched then tightly.

"I.. saw you" He gulped, submitting and sitting on the bed as you shuffled closer. "Two weeks ago- You went somewhere I don't fucking know. But you were in a tiny fucking thong and- there was just so much boob and ass.." You tilted your head as you stared at him. "Y/N- I fucked my shit so hard- I fucked a random bitch- I nearly fucking moaned your name" He was pratically begging for you at this point.

You stood up, straddling his hips as you smirked at him, caressing his cheek. "I'm flattered Nott, if you wanted to fuck me you should've just asked" You bit your lip.

"God- S'bad.. I want you so bad Y/N" He pratically whimpered as his cock twitches up against your thigh.

"Who knew Theodore Nott was a begger.. especially with all this" You chuckled, running your hand up his whole length. You lifted your thong to the side as you lined up his dick with your entrance as you slowly sank down on it. Sighing softly as the poor boy whimpered under you.

"Good boy" You cooed, ruffling his hair as you slowly rocked your hips back and forth, biting your lip at the feeling of his dick moving inside of you, hitting your G-spot every. fucking. time.

"I fucking hate.. how weak you make me" He whines, a soft pout upon his lips as his hands grasp at your clothed breasts through your uniform.

You capture his lips, kissing him softly, speaking between the breaths- "You're so.. fucking.. hot.." You sighed as you arched your back, throwing your head back as you gripped his shoulders as you sped up the pace as you rode him. Your hips buckling against his chest as you left out soft whines and moans. Supporting yourself by your arms but you were growing weak. As much as it was hot to see a submissive Theodore, his dick was perfectly hitting your G-spot every fucking time that you were crumbling.

You threw your head forward, looking at Theo as you panted, your mouth open agape as you stared down at him. Lust in your eyes. "Ruin me Nott" you gagged out.

It was like a code word or something. In that moment, Theo pulled out and flipped you over. Ripping off your uniform but leaving your tie on. Slapping your ass harshly as he theusted his dick back into you, tugging on your tie, choking you slightly as he began to piston into you from behind. You gasped, a moan catching in your throat as your head leaned back slightly at the tug of the tie as you felt Theo's hand grip at your neck tightly as you gasped.

"Good girl.. Be good for me.. principessa" He whispered lowly as he let go of your tie, wrapping an arm around your waist as he yanked you up, leaning your back against his chest. You moaned lightly, gritting your teeth as his dick absolutely crushed your insides. His lips upon your neck, biting and sucking on the skin, as his free hand gripped your left breast.

"Fuck!" You whined out as you gasped. The overwhelming feeling of his dick and his touch was driving you insane. "I'm co-" You screamed out as he sped up his thrusts. You gripped his thighs, digging your nails into them as you screamed out. Your eyes rolling back as you let out a low groan as you came harshly against his dick.

Theo let go of you, letting you fall forward against the bed as you panted heavily, breath shaky as you gripped at the sheets below you. His dick still in you as he stared down at your twitching body.

"I'm not done yet, amore mio" He smirked, slapping your ass as he pulled out. Flipping you over as he leaned over kissing you softly. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling his closer as you sucked on tongue as he gasped feeling him enter you once again.

"Theo- I don't think I can take anymore" You panted, giggling softly, slightly scared.

"You will" He smiled at you, kissing your cheek as he slowly dragged himself in and out of you. "I need to cum too, and you need to come atleast 2 more times" He winked.

His lips captured yours as he kissed you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hand finding it's way through his curls as you tugged on them with each pummel into your G-spot. Theo definitely knew how to use all inches of his deadly weapon. You did question why you left it so long.

He pulled away, peppering kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone, nibbling and sucking lightly occasionally scattering hickies and marks. "So. Beautiful" He growled as he grit his teeth. His grip on the headboard directly above you tightened as he thrusted harder onto you.

"T-Theo" you yelped, scratching down his back harshly with your sharp acrylics. Gasping as he cocked his leg up slightly hitting into you at a tilted angle driving you insane.

"Doing so good, darling. You look so beautiful" He pecked your lips as his grip tightened on his bed frame, thrusting faster as the bed below the pair of you began to creak with each movement. "Good girl.. You are doing so well" He kissed your cheek softly as you let out a soft string of moans.

Your eyes rolled back slightly as your panting became erratic, your toes curling as you shrieked, digging your nails further into his back. "Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck- I'm cumming!" You screamed out as you arched your back, your legs twitching as Theo continued to relentlessly pound into you, showing no remorse for your sensitive state. You yelped loudly, throwing your head forward, locking eyes with him as the knot harshly unwrapped in your stomach as you came harshly against him. He continues to fuck you through your high causing you to squirt. Everywhere.

You threw your head back, squinting your eyes as you gritted your teeth whining as your hands fell from his back to the sheets as you fisted them. It took you a moment to come round, you were seeing white during your high. You noticed Theo slow down, but still continuing to slowly pump into you. You felt his hand caress your cheek as he chuckled softly.

"You alright bella? Thought I lost you there" He smirked softly as he kissed your forehead.

You looked up at him, panting softly, pulling his neck as you placed a soft kiss on his lips. "You're going to kill me Nott.. How have you still not came-" You groaned.

He laughed, hooking his arms under your thighs, he lifted you up causing you to shriek. The boy stood up, lowering you once against fully on his length. His hands gripping your ass as he thrusted into you. Your body recoiling against him as your skin slapped harshly against his.

"Fuck- There-" You gulped biting your lip as your hands gripped his shoulders.

"Love making you feel good.. I could make you cum all day, I don't care if i do too" You groaned, his jaw tensing as you noticed his dick twitch inside of you. He walked across the room, your body rebounding every thrust back into him as you whimpered lowly. He pushed you up against the door, his pace quickening once he leant u against it.

"Fuck yes! You're so tight for me bella, just for me-" He moaned softly into your ear as his face buried into your neck. Soft whimpers leaving his lips turning you on even more. Your hips bucked against him as you tightened your core as you began to lift yourself to bounce up and down. Soft moans leaving your lips as he bit at your neck, whining into your skin.

"M'close!-" He yelped, gulping as he kissed your roughly. You pulled him as close as you could as he continued to plough into you against the door. The pair of you gaining closer and closr to your releases. His thrusts progressively becoming more erratic.

Suddenly, Theo halted before he drop you to your feet, pulling out as you gasped at the sudden lack of pleasure. He pulls you to the bed again, pushing you face first down as he climbed ontop of you. You had no time to compute what was going on or question him. It all happened so fast. His legs eitherside yours trapping you down as he slaps your ass. A soft yelp leaving your lips as he spread your ass and thighs with his hand as he pushed back in. The boy was fucking mounting you like a horse.

He kisses your shoulder messily as he bites down on it, his thrusts becoming messy as you gripped at the sheets again. "Tell me if your- uncomftable" He groaned in your ear. His thrusts growing messier and messier as he sped up. His poor bed frame screaming for a break, constant creaking and slamming against the wall as you both moaned. You were worried for the dorm next door, the pair of you didn't think of a silencing charm.

His whimpering driving you over the edge as you screamed into the pillow. Theo knew you were close, he could feel it as you tightened around him.

The boy chased for his high along with you. You both letting out some rather unattractive groans and whines as you drew close together.

"Sei cosi' sexy" (You're so sexy) He groaned, nibbling at your shoulder as he continued to whimper softly in your ear. His pants become erratic as he continued to thrust into you, at a wildly animalistic pace. "Mio, tu sei mio..~" (Mine, you are mine..~) he whined out, pushing your hair aside as he sucked at your neck. His pants becoming gasps as his dick twitched inside of you. You had no clue what he was saying, but his Italian accent was making you even more wet.

"FUCK!-" you screamed as you sobbed into the pillow, biting the plush object as you harshly came against his thrusts as he sped up one last time, before delving deep inside of you, practically burying himself and his cum deep inside of you.

"Porca puttana, cosi' stretto! Tutto mio. Ti amo, cazzo-" (Holy shit, so tight! All mine. I fucking love you-) He groaned as he held himself above you, his arms shaking as he panted heavily. "Holy fuck.." He collected himself before pulling out and crashing beside you, pushing his hair out of his face.

The pair of you had a few minutes of silence, panting heavily and collecting yourself together.

You lifted your hair out of the pillow as you turned to look at his fucked out face beside you. You let out a soft snicker as you moved to cuddle him, putting your head on his chest.

Theo didn't know you knew a bit of Italian not much, but enough to know he just professed his love for you.

"Ti amo" You smiled up at him. His face shot to you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

"You understood?-" He gulped.

"Only slightly but, I love you too Theo" You kissed his cheek.

He shook his head, laying a soft kiss on your lips.

The two of you cuddled a bit longer before you retreated to the shower where you went another round. You don't know how you did it. Your legs certainly hate you at this point. He decided to leave some nasty bite marks and hickies on your thighs. He even drew blood a few times but that's something the two of you can toy with later...

Later you stumbled down the stairs in one of Theo's tshirts. Your hair very messy and skin peppered in hickies and bites from neck to thigh. Theo followed behind you.

You noticed your friends sat upon the couches in the common room.

You looked to Enzo "Can confirm it is definitely 9 inches" You both laughed as your friends look at you confused.

"Who-" Draco questioned before gasps came from them all as Theo walked downstairs, covered in scratch marks, bites and hickies as he stood behind you ruffling his hair in just his trackies.

"Oh my god" Pansy gawked.

#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin fanfiction #slytherin boys #theodore nott smut #harrypotter fanfiction #lorenzo zurzolo #angelfrombenethfics

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ghostedcas · 7 months

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imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

#ghostedcas #casper writes #casper's 💌#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fluff #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x reader fluff #ghost riley x reader

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halfrican-heat · 8 months

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ALL MINE (Ony)

"You come here, I'll knock your pussy out the damn frame. Remember the last time I made you miss your damn plane? Remember the last time I wet you down with champagne?"

A/N: Hey! I'm down bad for this man rn, lol. I've got lots of ideas for him though, so yay! Happy reading :) Inspired by @lingeriae and this post! Requests are open, too! Get at your girl.

Warning(s): Explicit Sexual Content; Penetrative Sex (p in v), Oral Sex (F receiving), Cursing, Public Sex (Outdoors), Cervix kissing, Wedding details, N Word Used, Black reader in mind, AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect, Dominant!Ony (when tf is he not in my mind), Depiction of marijuana usage, Depictions of alcohol consumption, Mild Dubious Consent; Beta'd by my besties <3

Pairing: Ony x Wedding Planner!Reader

Song Inspo: All Mine - Brent Faiyaz

His eyes drilled into the side of your head, trailing the curves of your body.

As maid of honor, your dress was a little different from the other bridesmaids. Make no mistake, your girls looked good with a t on the end. You made sure of that, but you all agreed upon something more…tailored for the lady making the most moves. So, your dress was designed to your tastes and fit you like a glove. It accentuated all your assets and Onyankopon was taking stock.

The two of you had only fucked once but there was this heightened tension ever since.

During the entire wedding process, Ony had been a pain in your ass. Because he was the best man, the two of you had to collaborate on many of the joint events-- like the Engagement Party and Bridal Party mixers. He was a terrible flirt and spent most of his time trying to get in your pants. Then, if it wasn’t you, he was flirting with any lady he could. And they would swoon just as soon as Ony flashed that handsome, megawatt smile of his.

But for some reason, Ony liked the challenge you posed. The way you were resistant to his charms. Unfortunately for you, Ony was interested in you. He liked you.

You dealt with his bullshit for a good while, putting in a valiant effort because you were doing your best friend and fellow soror, Kendra, a favor. Y’all went back to diapers and stuck together through everything. You were a celebrity event coordinator, specializing in weddings, so you were doing double duty by being her maid of honor and planning the entire wedding. But shit hit the fan between you and Ony the night of the final Bridal Party mixer. The two of you got into a huge blowout fight that ended with your cute little cocktail dress torn and strewn about the floor of Ony’s hotel room, his tongue licking champagne from places it shouldn’t have been.

“You doing so good, ma.” He had whispered, fucking you into his sheets.

You ended up missing your damn plane the next morning. Needless to say, he moved up on your list of people you wouldn’t mind spending time with. But he quickly moved back down the list after he ghosted you the next day. During the rehearsal dinner, you found him talking up some girl in the hotel lounge. He made eye contact with you as he flirted with her, looking away to give her his full attention.

So, you kept it cordial and cute after that. You acted like it didn’t bother you. Did he have amazing, life-changing dick that made you want to murder him and the bitch from the hotel lounge? Yes, yes he did. But were you a classy, sophisticated bitch who successfully planned a destination wedding while being the maid of honor and dealing with Ony’s shiesty ass? Yes, yes the fuck you were.

And no nigga was gonna make you second guess that shit.

The “Lounge Incident”, as your friends lovingly dubbed it, had happened a week ago. Fast forward to the present and there you were, watching your best friend dance and act a fool with the love of her life. You were happy for her, of course, but it did make you feel a little wistful.

The wedding ceremony wrapped up two hours prior and you found yourself nursing a glass of champagne at the reception. You were pretending to be unfazed by the looks Ony was sending you from across the room. You stole a glance at him when you felt like he wasn’t watching you and…dear Lord.

His white dress shirt was tucked into his green slacks, suit jacket long forgotten, with a few of the top buttons opened. His gold chain shined at you, almost winking, as it matched the gold Rollie on his wrist. He flashed a smile to one of his homeboys and you felt your knees wobble a little. You looked away quickly and crossed the room to find your girls. They were standing around one of the reception tables talking.

“Aht, don’t bring that energy over here, ma’am!” Your friend, Chelsea, said. “That man look like he ‘bout to jump your ass.”

“Please tell me y’all not about to fuck at this wedding,” Liyah groaned.

Your girls laughed loudly and you hid a smile behind your champagne glass as you took a sip. You risked a glance back at Ony, finding his gaze already on you. He didn’t care to hide the fact he was staring at you, not even giving the young lady in front of him a glance as she spoke to him. You whipped around, clearing your throat.

“Bye, girl. It ain’t even like that.”

The table went quiet, all the girls looking over your shoulder. A shit-eating grin spread across Chelsea’s face as she raised her hand, waving playfully.

“Hey, Ony.”

Your eyes widened as his chest pressed against your back, his warmth surrounding you. You tried to pretend to be unbothered as your friends gawked with wide eyes and smirks.

“Hey, ladies.”

The smile was evident in his voice, sending chills down your spine. But you took a sip of your champagne with a neutral face, not acknowledging him. In truth, you didn’t need to. He leaned down so that his mouth was close to your ear, hands braced on the table as he trapped you against his chest. His chain brushed your neck, not helping the goosebumps erupting all over your skin. His words, low so only you could hear them, didn’t help either.

“Say bye to your lil friends so I can eat your pussy.”

He paused as you turned your head slightly, your faces close to touching.

“And stop playing with me.”

His eyebrow arched at you as he pulled back, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. He addressed your friends again, setting the glass down.

“Ladies,” He said with a charming smile.

With that, he left you standing there as you slowly looked back to your friends who gaped back at you.

“Bye.” You said finally, scurrying from the reception hall as fast as your legs would carry you.

You found Ony outside the building, perched against the wall. A blunt hung from his lips as he gazed at you sidelong. You approached slowly, hips swaying with each step. His eyes never left yours as he sparked up and inhaled, exhaling the smoke slowly. You felt dizzy with need but you weren’t down that bad. Not yet.

You took the blunt as he passed it to you. You let the smoke soothe you before you exhaled. You took a few more pulls before passing it back to him.

“Take your panties off,” He said finally, after a long draw.

You tutted, crossing your arms.

“You just gon’ act like you ain’t ghost me, Ony?”

“I was wrong for that. But I'm here now, ain't it?” He said casually.

You rolled your eyes, turning to go back inside. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him, his lips pressing firmly against yours. His mouth teased yours, opening it as smoke billowed between the two of you. His arm slid down to your waist as you exhaled the smoke he gave you.

He took another pull, exhaling, before he looked back down at you.

“I told you stop playing with me.”

“Maybe I'm done with you," You bluffed. "Maybe I got me another nigga to fuck on now.”

Ony scoffed, tucking the rest of his blunt away for later.

“Aight, that’s enough of that shit,” He mumbled, grabbing your hand as he pulled you to the side of the building.

It was a more hidden spot, behind large bushes that wrapped around the front of the building and off to the side. From there, you could see guests entering and exiting but they couldn’t see you unless they were looking hard enough. Your eyes widened as he kneeled in front of you and shoved your dress up your legs. You swatted at his hands, panicking as your eyes darted around. Ony stilled, his gaze hard as he grabbed your hands and looked up at you.

“Don’t piss me off.”

Now, you were down bad.

You took a shaky breath as he released your hands, going back to bunching up your dress.

“Hold that,” He said, tossing your leg over his shoulder.

You did as he asked, taking the garment in your hands. Your body flushed with heat as he shamelessly nuzzled his nose against your soaked core, smelling your needy scent. He kissed your clothed core and pushed your panties aside, holding them in one hand as he slipped a finger into your dripping cunt. He moved the digit in and out, brushing against that soft spot inside you.

“Oh, fuck,” You whined, your head falling against the wall.

“Yeah, say that shit you was sayin’ now,” Ony taunted, sliding another digit inside. “This pussy all mine.”

You panted, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder, as you forced out your next question.

“What about that bitch from the lounge, Ony?”

“I was gonna try what she was offering, but she wasn’t you,” He said easily, his eyes glued to his fingers moving in and out of you. “Damn, ma. You sucking that shit in.”

“Ony,” You whimpered. “I don’t want to play no games with you--”

“I’m not. That shit not an offer to me when you’re around,” He said firmly. “Now, you gon’ keep complainin’ or you gonna let daddy eat his pussy?”

“Ony--”

Any rebuttal you had became a wanton moan as he didn’t wait for a response, his mouth descending on your clit as his fingers continued to move inside you. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying in vain to stifle the sounds of pleasure he was snatching from you. He pulled his fingers from you gently, spreading your sopping pussy wider as he fucked his tongue in and out of you.

He ate you out messily, drinking up your juices like sweet nectar. The slurping noises were lewd as he sucked on your clit, teasing it with his tongue before dipping it back into your weeping hole. His performance was drawing pathetic whines from your throat as you tried to keep the two of you from getting caught. Heat pooled in your belly as his mouth on your core drove you toward a heated finish.

Then, he stopped completely. You let out a confused moan as the pleasure waned, your orgasm evading you. The confusion didn’t last long, however, as you heard his belt coming undone. He pulled himself from his pants as he tore your panties. He hiked your leg around his waist and slid home without warning.

“Hold on to me,” He grunted, his other hand supporting your back.

You wrapped your arms around him, your head resting on his shoulder as he thrust into you. His pace was rough and deep, fucking you like he owned you. Maybe he did. Maybe you wanted him to. You muffled a scream into his shoulder as his length kissed your cervix, unrelenting as the drag of his cock against your tight walls sent you into oblivion.

“Fuck, baby,” He groaned. “You so tight f’me. Takin’ me so good.”

You choked back a sob as his tip brushed that soft spongy spot, bringing back the pool of pleasure from before. Ony noticed your reaction, angling his hips to hit it over and over again. Your whimpers and moans were his own private mixtape as you keened and cried in his ear. He stretched you so good, the feeling of being this full something new and foreign to you. Ony was a bad habit, and he was making sure you wouldn’t be able to kick him any time soon.

That pool of pleasure warmed further with each snap of his hips into yours. Your quiet, open-mouthed cries built in intensity as the temperature inside you began to rise, swirling like a tsunami. You felt yourself teetering on that delicate edge and so could Ony. He picked up the pace.

“You gonna cum on your dick?” He taunted, egging you on. “You gon’ show me who this dick belong to?”

Your climax crashed over you as you slapped a hand to your mouth, muffling the sob that broke free. He fucked you through your orgasm, prolonging it as your body seized around him. He could barely pull out, opting for shallow thrusts as you came down from your high.

You sagged against the wall, trying to catch your breath as Ony pulled out. He fixed your dress and smoothed it down around the hips. He tucked himself back into his pants and dug his wallet from his pocket, fishing out his room key.

He flashed it in front of your dazed face before placing it in your hand. He pulled you off the wall, making sure you looked good before nudging you in the direction of the front doors.

“Go to my room. Third floor, 303. I’ll be there in a minute.”

You looked down at the key card in your hand then back to him. He sparked up his blunt again, blowing out smoke as he smacked your ass.

“Go ‘head, ma. I’m coming.”

You jumped slightly from the impact and found your feet moving you out of the bushes. You stumbled back into the hotel lobby, walking on wobbly legs to the elevators with his room key clutched in your hand. Your girl, Chelsea, was coming from the restrooms as the two of you made eye-contact. She smirked, her eyes trailing over you. She subtly adjusted the top of her dress, nodding at you.

You took the hint, fixing yours.

She went back into the reception hall without a word as you fumbled to press the elevator button.

Your night was not over yet.

#onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black y/n #ony x reader #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon #aot onyankopon #black writer #black reader #my writing #Lyv's Library #Ony's Observatory #Fanfiction for black women #Black women #smut #Onyankopon x black!reader #Potential Series ;)#Wedding Planner!Reader

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utahlive · 2 months

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Announcement

Hello UtahLIVE viewers, I have come before you today to talk a bit about recent events and how they will impact the future of this blog. Apologies this note is a bit long, but I would really appreciate it if you took some time to read this.

As I'm sure many of you know, within the past month Wilbur Soot/William Gold has been outed as an abuser. I want to make it clear right now that I no longer support him, nor do I accept his apology (mainly because it's not mine to accept in the first place). I stand with and believe Shelby and Alice 100%. This goes for any other victims that have or will come forward that I am unaware of, since I've been trying my best to stay offline. This aint about me!! But it's still hard when someone you look up to and who inspired you to create art turns out to be a shitbag. If you were somehow unaware of this, please go watch Shelby/Shubble's stream (VOD + transcript) and read Alice's post (and mind the CW/TWs) for more information.

This blog has brought me a lot of grief because of all of this. I do not want to support or perpetuate this man's image, but at the same time, I don't want to discontinue a story that I've put so much time and effort into. After a lot of deliberation, I've decided that I am going to continue this story until the end. I will also be adding a disclaimer in the pinned post, and I will no longer be tagging any of my posts from here on out with #wilbur soot or any adjacent tags. I don't think it's fair to myself or to anyone else who has enjoyed this blog to waste all the hard work that I have put in, because ultimately this is my project and my story, not his. If you disagree with this, I totally get it, but I ask you to just unfollow and/or block rather than sending me any hate because I promise you that whatever you say about me "supporting" Wilbur Soot by continuing this blog is something I've already considered myself. He is not (active) on Tumblr, he did not receive any of the money I got from stickers, I doubt anyone is looking at this blog and thinking "wow this Wilbur guy seems cool, let me go listen to his music and watch his vods".

Despite this decision, I'll probably still be taking a bit of time to myself to think about things and focus on school. Updates will likely resume in late March or early April.

I hope you can all respect my stance on this, and I want to reiterate how much I appreciate you all for supporting my work. Love you guys <3

#utahlive #4th wall break #dsmp #dsmp ask blog #dream smp #dream smp askblog #ask blog

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doobea · 4 months

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ALWAYS BE MY MAYBE ─ MEGUMI F.

synopsis: upon graduating and landing your first job outside of college, you soon realize that being in your twenties suck. outside of working nine hours everyday, setting time for the gym, and making shitty home cooked meals, you have a new stressor joining your team on monday - your ex.

MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST

contents: gn!reader, second chances, office romance, lots of awkward tension, background satosugu, alcohol consumption, company mixers and gossip thrown around word count: 7045 (im sorry) a/n: thank you so much for requesting this @mymegumi !! this is my first time writing for megumi so i hope he isn't too ooc!! :3 this was def one of my fav ones i've received hehe also shout out to @popponn for beta reading this like a champ because wow this was a MESS and shes helped w a lot ;;

Walking into the office on a Monday morning and seeing your ex first thing is something you wouldn’t wish on your enemy.

To make matters even slightly worse, the team manager announces that he’s going to be the new software engineer on your team and that his assigned seat is, surprise surprise, next to yours.

So this is how things are going now.

Things have changed drastically between you and Megumi, having today being your one-year break up anniversary, and you’re still finding your ground here. And, it goes both ways, you suppose. The initial shock on your face was hard to hide and you could’ve sworn Megumi felt like putting in his two week notice the moment you walked through those doors. But you don’t blame him when he excuses himself to the nearest bathroom and you don’t blame him when he spends a suspicious amount of time in there.

“Does the new guy have IBS or something?” Your manager, Satoru Gojo, plops himself down at the corner of your desk, completely ignoring the fact that his ass is resting on the pile of documents that you’re planning to review. He’s wearing his usual black circular lenses inside despite it being not sunny on this cold, gloomy December morning. Gojo thinks he looks cool with them on, definitely not trying to gain a certain regional manager’s attention. He’s also disregarding the fact that you’re squirming uncomfortably in your seat.

You cough loudly into your fist and manage to shimmy a packet from Gojo’s ass pile, trying to drown yourself in work and not engage in the conversation, knowing full well that Gojo can’t keep his mouth shut if he finds out about your relationship history.

“Maybe it’s just first day nerves,” you shrug back.

“I’m not paying him to take a shit at work,” Gojo huffs back, hands on hips like a mother hen. “There’s some Pepto Bismol in the first aid kit in the break room, go hand him that.”

You sigh, clicking the pen repeatedly in your hands in hopes that your manager gets the hint that you’re busy, but he just repeats it, emphasizing that ‘hey, no need to create a toxic work environment’ and that ‘everyone here is family’.

“You can’t grab Nobara to do it?” You grumble out.

“I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?” he replies back before hopping off your desk. Gojo adjusts his tie and smooths out his hair before sending finger guns in your direction. “Make Megumi feel at home and I’ll give everyone an extra five thousand on top of the initial holiday bonus, yeah?”

If there’s anything that Satoru Gojo is good at, outside of drunk whining about his ex, it’s bribing. You’ve been working at this company for just under a year and the amount of times he would throw money out in order to get others to do his responsibilities might be more than you can count but, in hindsight, it’s not a bad trait to have. He’s a good listener, attentive of other’s needs, and not a micromanager. And, while you desperately want to say no, you have to admit that having an extra five thousand bonus does sound incredibly nice.

“Fine,” you give in and push yourself out of the seat. “But that’s all that I’m doing for the rest of the week. I’ve got other things I have to catch up on before the end of the year.”

It’s not a lie. You’ve got meetings with clients scheduled back to back until the last week before Christmas and most of them are being indecisive about their app designs. Though, that’s the normal life of being a graphic web designer on a regular day.

“Yeah?” Gojo briefly glances over your calendar that you have pinned against the wooden cork board in your cubicle and hums in deep thought — which is usually not a good sign. “Y’know what? Megumi should join in on the meetings too.”

“H-Huh?”

“Why are you giving me that look? You give him the designs, he makes it look pretty, and then we have profit.”

“Yeah but,” you gesture your hands towards Toge’s desk behind you, who’s currently hunched over and deep into whatever line of code he’s attempting to fix for a particular picky client. “I’m already partnered up with Toge, I don’t think Megumi needs—”

Gojo enunciates your name, loud and slow, tilting his glasses down so you can see the intense blue of his eyes. “Can’t you see I’m trying to hook you up, right now?”

Oh god, so this is why he’s being so persistent.

You heave out another sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration and embarrassment. “Gojo, are you self projecting right now?” You swear he always does this.

“Am not!” Gojo quickly shoots back with crossed arms. “You look like you haven’t gotten laid in a while and I’d figure I play office cupid with you and the new guy!” Then, a small pause followed by a loud Teams’ message notification comes from his phone. You don’t need to guess who sent it judging by Gojo’s exasperated gasp. “Inumaki, please focus on your tasks instead of listening in on people’s conversations!”

Ping!

DESIGN TEAM - SUB GC [Toge Inumaki]: gojo needs to get laid lolol [Maki Zen’in]: say it louder for the ppl in the back

Gojo manages out another grumpy sound, more a whine than anything else; your grin widens and pat him on the shoulder.

“Pepto Bismol, right?” You snort.

“He’s still going to join—” Gojo starts to respond, but then gets cut off by another notification, and gives up. “Ack—whatever! Just make sure you look after him today, alright? Me and Suguru are going to plan for the holiday party for the rest of the day, so no interruptions!” He announces the last part louder than the rest, staring down at everyone else on the office floor. Gojo is met with a couple of weak ‘yeah, sure, have fun, bud’ before turning his attention back to you. He says the next part in a hush whisper, “Gonna increase it to ten thousand, you spend too much time at work anyway.”

You roll your eyes, nodding away just to agree and end the dreaded topic. “Aye, aye, captain.”

Then, Gojo has the audacity to drink some of your morning tea and sighs, content and relaxed as he’ll ever be, before strutting to the otherside of the floor and into Geto’s office. You and the others are pretty sure they have a secret room connected in there. No one’s ever been able to go inside Geto’s office without a special lock pad code. Something about protecting the company’s patented secrets or whatever. Doesn’t help the allegations that only Gojo has access to said special code.

Ping!

You look at your computer and see that Toge had sent you a private message.

[Toge Inumaki]: u actually gonna flirt w the new guy?

You glare at Toge, who’s now flashing you a knowing smirk underneath the turtleneck that extends over his mouth. You know he’s celebrating inwardly because, yeah, you see that little glimmer in Toge’s eyes that indicates that he does know your dirty little office secret. How do you know this for a fact? Toge always looks up everyone’s personal and employment history.

It’s always the quiet ones who are freaks.

“No way,” you reply, probably with even more indignation than Gojo, if that’s even possible. “Also, keep the info on the down low and I’ll share some of my bonus with you, please?” If you’re going to survive this job, you might as well steal some of your manager’s tactics.

Without any opposition, Toge sends you a thumbs up.

This is going to be an interesting year.

“You’re making it so not obvious,” Maki starts, sarcastically, as she refills her liter sized tumbler by the company’s only fancy coffee machine. It’s also the only functional one on the floor and Geto claims that it’s worth more than your entire yearly salary. What an absurd purchase but everyone abuses the shit out of it, so you guess it’s worth the price.

You stick out your tongue in disgust as you watch her put five shots of espresso into the container and wonder how the hell is her body still functioning correctly. “You could’ve at least told me that he applied for the job, y’know?”

“And what? How was I supposed to know he was going to be on our team? Were you going to look for a new job just because he got it?” Maki shoots you an unimpressed look and totally catches the way you chew your lips as your fingers twitch at your sides. “Listen, as your friend and his cousin, I’m not really sure all the details that went down but I know that Megumi isn’t out to hurt you — you should know that too.”

“I do know that,” you angrily place down your mug underneath the machine, firmly pressing the cappuccino option on the touch screen. “We just… didn’t really talk after he had to move, like at all.” You frown.

Maki leans against the break room counter and sips her beverage. “Mind running it back to me again?”

“It’s long, Maki,” you try to deflect, “Trauma dumping first thing in the morning is rather—”

Ping!

[Satoru Gojo]: did ya hand him the anti poop meds yet?

“Wait, give me a second, gotta reply to…”

Maki laughs. “All good, take your time.”

[You]: not yet, getting coffee [Satoru Gojo]: losing employee of the month status as we speak [You]: u being deadass rn [Satoru Gojo]: you wished your ass was getting aidhwkakha

The sudden keyboard smash and offline status change is enough to lose your interest in the conversation. A chill runs down your spine at the immediate imagination of your supervisors getting it on with each other. As a small distraction, your eyes begin shifting focus around the break room before settling on the small first aid kit in the corner. And now you’re reminded again of the side mission that somehow became a main mission in your twenties’ story line.

Handing your ex bowel medicine was not part of your bingo card.

“I’ll talk to you later, Maki,” you release a groan when she laughs again. It’s light hearted, you know that for sure, but it still feels humiliating.

You round the corner down the hallway leading to the restroom with the neon pink bottle in hand, mumbling to yourself ways to avoid talking to Megumi, before crashing dead on into something, or rather someone, hard.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry—”

“No, it’s my bad, I—”

You regret ever opening your mouth. A heartbeat pause passes before you could gather your thoughts, coherently. You’re pretty sure you have this dumb, gawking, expression plastered over your face because Megumi is doing all that he can to avoid having proper eye contact with you.

Instead of half expecting him to brush past you, he points at the neon bottle and asks, slowly, with all seriousness, “Is that for you?”

“F-For me?” You look down at the bottle and look up again, feeling warmth in your cheeks from embarrassment and… anger? You hastily shove the bottle into his hands, strongly ignoring the fact that he smells really good for someone who just spent the last half hour in a bathroom. “It’s for you, idiot!”

For a split second, Megumi looks wildly offended that you would even consider that he needs something like this. You watch as he’s about to give it back to you or, knowing him, throw it away, when suddenly a tuft of pink pokes out from the corner of your eyes.

Yuuji had somehow acquired a ridiculous bright strand of Christmas lights that he’s looped around his neck. He’s got a Santa hat on, also holding an extra pair too, and you want to question where he managed to get the overly festive attire from, and if there’s some sort of weird in-office holiday event that you weren’t invited to.

“Hey, hey! I was told to bring this over to the new guy!” Yuuji chirps brightly and stops in his tracks when he sees Megumi in front of you. “You must be him!”

“Megumi,” you wince at saying his name finally, pushing aside your previous strained thoughts due to the new company, and run a feverish hand through your hair. “This is Yuuji, he works in our sales department. Yuuji, this is Megumi, he’s part of the design team.” You reply in a sickly-sweet tone.

“ ‘Sup! How are you?” Yuuji pops the ‘p’ and whistles.

“I’m charmed,” Megumi sighs and stares him down for a moment, before he finally grips the festive hat when Yuuji presents it to him. “Do I have to?”

“Of course!” Yuuji flicks on the switch to his necklace and it nearly blinds your eyes from how bright it was. The festive colors alternate, and there’s a small jingle that plays right after. Talk about a seizure warning. “It’s part of the company’s tradition!”

Megumi breathes through his nose, rolling his eyes. “The company was founded this year.”

“Yeah, starting today, it’s a company tradition,” Yuuji corrects.

“Starting today, I’ll write up my notice,” he grumbles, only audible to you.

You have to admit, you appreciate the dry sarcasm. There’s no denying that Megumi looks like he’s a second away from quitting all within the first two hours of his first day. But, as you noted earlier, you don’t blame him.

“You guys are coming to the end of the year party, right?” Yuuji snaps a quick selfie with the three of you in it, explaining something about posting on the company’s Instagram story reels and gaining clout. Though, you’re pretty sure that only Yuuji was smiling in the photo.

“I was actually planning on staying home,” you answer sheepishly, not wanting to give away the obvious reason.

Yuuji frowns and immediately pulls out his signature puppy dog eyes. “Aww, wait really? You seemed so excited for it earlier last week.”

You’re shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t—”

“Yuh huh,” Yuuji fishes out his phone to pull up the fucking group chat receipts, showing it to both you and a perplexed Megumi. “You said you went out and bought an ugly Christmas sweater the next day!”

“It was a joke!”

Yuuji pulls up a photo of you in said ugly Christmas sweater. You die a little on the inside.

“You’re wearing it right here, though!”

“Yuu—”

“A joke, huh,” Megumi kicks the bottom of his loafers against the floor, shoving the red hat deep into his pants’ pocket, before excusing himself, again. He holds up the pink bottle and turns around, back towards the restrooms. “Turns out I’ll be needing this, thanks.” There’s a hint of malice oozing from the last word, one that you pick up quite easily while Yuuji looks around confused.

“So Gojo wasn’t overreacting about the IBS thing…” Yuuji muses.

It’s now midday and a total of less than thirty words have been exchanged so far between you and Megumi. You two have been working in silence for the past hour at the cubicles and you’re beginning to feel awfully guilty about the earlier exchange.

It wasn’t your intention to make him feel unwelcomed. Maybe you’re thinking too deeply into this than needed?

“Are you feeling okay?” You arch a brow, pulling your eyes away from your monitor for a moment to look at Megumi. Megumi stops typing and makes a small appreciative sound, nodding quickly enough. You know better though, whenever he has a far off look on his face, that his mind’s a mess.

“Yeah,” Megumi tries to sound casual as he goes back to coding. “This is probably not easy for you either, right?” He lets an ear bud dangle from his side.

“That noticeable?” You let out a short laugh, knowing that you both know each other still pretty fucking well. “It’s just… been a year, you know? Haven’t seen much of you since you moved.” You’re waiting for him to take the bait as you have your suspicions, and you don’t voice them, but you swear, just for a moment, there’s a strange expression on Megumi’s face. Then, you blink, and maybe you’ve imagined it all, because his face goes back to looking as stoic as he always did.

“I’m,” he pauses his fingers, sinking back into his seat, eyes downcasted. “I’m sorry. I know I should’ve called you, at least.”

“I was worried sick like crazy,” you suddenly admit, the words seemingly flowing out at this point. “Was almost debating calling the missing person’s hotline until the mailman, of all people, told me that your family packed up and dipped.”

Megumi isn’t the most expressive person when it comes to apologies, having an already wildly unconventional childhood was enough to shell himself out from everyone else. Though, it’s hard to deny that he should’ve and could’ve done something earlier.

Megumi chews methodically down on his lips. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

You nod slowly, making note of the way his voice strained, and face back to your monitors. “It’s fine, I probably shouldn’t have brought it up at work,” a pause and then you continue, “Also, I’m sorry about acting like you’re the plague, too. It’s just—people don’t normally work with their ex’s, you know?” You whisper.

He sighs, there’s a finality to it, and puts back his ear bud. “Mhm, I don’t want to think about it.”

Yeah. It’s stupid. It’s stupid and somehow it really sucks, too. You’re absentmindedly nodding and maybe, you think, there’s a quick flicker of that same unnamed emotion you keep noticing from Megumi, one that somehow forces your stomach to twist up, making your insides all confused.

“Okay, that’s fair enough,” you say, and you forget about it, at least for now.

After a few days, working with Megumi is like clockwork.

Greetings are short and brief or none at all. If he needed something, he would contact Toge or Maki since they’re the ones supposed to be in charge of him. If he ever needed to grab something from you… well it’ll just be exchanged via email or the work group chat — nothing ever in person. Which you’re happy that you’re both on the same page. Also, thank god for Zoom Meetings having a recording option. There was no way in actual hell you were going to sit through a two hour long call with your ex sitting across from you.

It’s halfway through the work week and nearing the end of the day. You’ve successfully got off the call with a client and just sent over the finalized web design to the rest of the team.

Yuki Tsukumo, a self-made billionaire, reached out to the company three months back regarding a new app launch she had in mind. Ironically for you, it’s a dating app specifically designed for second chances and heartbreaks. Did you mentally suffer a couple of breakdowns from this? Of course.

Are you going to suffer another one because Gojo is currently ordering a last minute meeting with you and Megumi in a conference room? Yeah.

“What the fuck,” you say, intelligently. “Are you—are you crying?”

“W-What makes you think that,” Gojo sneezes into an already damp tissue. He’s got a stupid Christmas-themed sweater on, even got a themed set of earrings in, too. A little necklace with red and white candy cane beads hangs from his neck, and he’s got a dumb temporary reindeer tattoo on his cheek. Gojo is so themed that it’s almost disgusting. “Why would I—why would I—” and he bursts into tears.

You outwardly groan and Megumi stays quiet but makes his annoyance evident with a deep furrow of his brows. You do not like where this is going. Gojo breaking down combined with Geto suddenly taking off only means that—

“You want us to take over the planning.” Megumi concludes in a flat tone.

“F-For the party—yes,” Gojo hiccups and, fuck, is he also drunk on the job right now?

“Did you and Geto have a fight again?” You deadpan.

“No.” Gojo frowns, going cross eyed. It’s not adorable at all, completely different from how he usually depicts himself to the rest of the office, which is why both you and Megumi stealthily slip out your phones and snap a quick picture… for blackmail purposes. “I-I was just…”

“We’ll do it,” you actually didn’t want to know the details, but you are slightly amused by how things turned out the way they did. “So, why are you drunk?”

Gojo opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. “ ‘m not drunk enough to tell you the whole story,” he gravely replies.

Megumi scoffs as he graciously gets out of his seat. “Well, if that’s all then I’m going back to my desk.”

And, of course, in the end it comes down to Megumi fucking Fushiguro being your co-assistant to organizing the biggest end of the year dinner celebration. A ten thousand bonus is on the line and you could really use a long vacation afterwards.

Gojo sends you to a file containing the event plans that they’ve completed so far and what’s missing. Food has already been covered, Gojo has a fancy restaurant catering information listed down, one he raves constantly about their tiramisu. Below that Geto makes a brief comment about needing an after party reservation at any local bar. Holiday decor still needs to be ordered and a DJ still needs to be booked. Not to mention setting up the office, organizing activities, creating and sending out emails to every—

“I’ll handle coordinating with the vendors, you can focus on the internal tasks.”

You blink. “What?”

He blinks in return. “What do you mean ‘what’?”

And, when you don’t say anything back, he continues.

“I’ll stay out of your way,” Megumi has his back turned to you. He’s unable to catch your slight frown. Those words should be a good sign. The less contact, the better. But hearing it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably, and you find yourself casting around for something to say back.

You try to open your mouth to speak, but it’s a bunch of gibberish, nonsense syllables, the only recognizable word being a bleary, “together”.

“Together?”

“We can work on it together,” you rephrased it more clearly.

Megumi tenses his shoulders and whips his head around, holding a slight sneer, though you aren’t sure if it’s meant for you or just towards the odd situation. “We are, that’s why I’m splitting the responsibilities up.”

“No, I mean like—”

“You don’t have to force anything.” Megumi says, running fingers through his unkempt hair. “I don’t want to make things more awkward than they already are.”

Of course, that sets you off a bit uneasily. You look around in the office and, once you realize that it’s just the two of you, you pull Megumi by his sleeves and find the nearest empty conference room.

“You look upset,” you huff, completely ignoring the way he’s pouting.

“I’m not upset,” Megumi shoots back, but his words are far too quick, a little bit heated, and he flushes instantly. He knows that he’s not fooling anyone, especially you.

You sigh, leaning your back against the wall next to the door. “Maybe not to others,” you begin, “I don’t want to sound like an ass but…” and you instinctively cringe when you think back to Gojo’s words from the beginning, “We have to work together for this project, at least.”

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” Megumi confesses, and you see the weight coming off of his shoulders as he says it. It sounded like he wasn’t planning on bringing this up at all, but the words are soon tumbling out. “Just… trying to get out of your way, you know? I still kinda need time to process everything.”

“Ah,” you’re looking down at your shoes, suddenly feeling… shy? Confused? You're watching him out of the corner of your eye.

Megumi breathes out a long sigh, fixes the wrinkles in his sleeves, and leans forward, brushing shoulders with you as he reaches for the handle. “I’ll cooperate,” he forces out.

“Megumi,” you say quietly, and you’re watching his knuckles turn white as he grips the knob just a bit too tightly. “Let’s just start over, okay?”

He frowns, and he masks it after a moment, you know how to get him stirring in his emotions, because the thought appears to give him a pause. Megumi’s eyes widen a bit, and he’s back to chewing his lip, a bad habit he’s always had, before smoothing out again.

“That’s complicated, you know that,” Megumi says finally.

You have no right to judge his answer, considering that you also played along in this weird tip-toe dance that you’ve both set. But is it really that complicated? Sure, you’re still pissed about what transpired during the relationship and ‘break up’, if you even want to call it that, but how long are you going to pretend that he’s not an important figure in your life?

“Life is complicated,” you stare into his eyes. “So work with me here, Megumi.”

You begin to feel better when you check off the final bullet point on Gojo’s ridiculously long event planner. Miraculously, the two of you manage to have everything prepared before the end of the month, even if it means working slight overtime together. Not that either of you had minded, it seemed after that conversation, there’s been less tension. You’re both trying to move on from the past and that’s the part of growing up, like it or not, and things don’t really fall neatly in place anymore.

So, when you get to the restaurant, you realize something real fast.

The seating arrangements are absolutely staged.

It’s a small izakaya, so the price to rent the whole place out wasn’t as expensive as some of the places Gojo had listed down as recs in the previous email but, because of its limited space, you knew it was going to be a tight squeeze for all twenty of you guys.

For starters, it was apparent from the moment you sat down that no one wanted to sit next to you. You were wondering if it had to do anything with your body odor before noting two very important things — one, Megumi was going to be the last one to arrive because he’s picking up the cake and two, everyone was staring intently when he entered the restaurant and had no choice but to sit next to you. You were trying so hard not to get distracted but the scent of his familiar cologne and the proximity of his body heat traveled to the forefront of your mind.

Three shots of tequila followed by five lemon drops later and both of your supervisors have disappeared from the dinner table. You vaguely make out a trail of unraveled ties and belts down the restaurant’s bathroom hallway in the corner, no surprise guessing what your bosses are doing — hint, it’s probably with each other. Aside from that, you’re currently trying not to let yourself get distracted by the obvious questions that your other coworkers are currently throwing to you and Megumi.

“We heard from a little birdie that you two are ex’s?” Todo throws the fucking rock out there.

Everyone is either currently drunk or getting to the point of being tipsy. One look at Toge and he has the word ‘culprit’ written all over his smug, redden face. You’d imagine that he told everyone at the table about it when you and Megumi excused yourselves to the restroom separately earlier in the night. Mai is giggling up a storm and Yuuji looks like he’s one sip away from making weird hand puppets of you two kissing. Maybe it’s hypocritical on your part, but you don’t get why they’re making such a big deal out of it. It’s not like you and Megumi are actually making the work environment uncomfortable and it’s also not like you guys are getting back together by seeing each other every day… right?

But you have to wonder, vaguely, when your body’s going to stop doing that weird, fluttering thing it does every time Megumi does look at you. You almost spill your drink everywhere when you catch his eyes again and mutter a string of curses under your breath, forcing your attention back to actually doing some damage control before it gets out of hand.

The only way to stop them from spreading unnecessary rumors is to own up to it. The more you deny, the more relentless teasing you’ll receive. Both you and Megumi drain a shot of tequila for the sake of courage before answering Todo’s unwarranted question.

“Yes.”

“No.”

You stare at each other in disbelief before switching your answers in a panic.

“No!”

“Yes!”

Yuuji starts nervously laughing and scratches his cheek. “Uh, guys…”

“We’re not—”

“We broke up—”

“You gonna take him out on a date?” Todo digs into his food, eyes never leaving the two of you. For some reason, you think he’s enjoying this a bit too much.

Megumi seems to pick up on this and groans. “I’m going outside for a bit,” he removes himself from his seat and pointedly avoids all the disappointed drunk mumblings from his coworkers as he makes a beeline towards the entrance with his coat in hand.

Okay, yeah, he’s smart for not falling for that. You, on the other hand, start pawing at your lap.

“We’re not dating,” you correct Todo, and basically everyone at the table.

“What if… he thinks you’re dating and you don’t?” Yuuji slurs his words, half of his body is basically leaning against the tabletop.

You highly doubt anything you’ve done together would be considered date worthy. You’re pretty sure Megumi feels the same way and everything is exaggerated at this point. Suddenly, you feel really out of your element here, and this burst of anxiety, one that leaves you squirming in your seat, has you itching for fresh air.

“I’ll be right back,” you quickly excuse yourself, grabbing your belongings along.

It didn’t take you long to find him. Megumi is standing off to the side underneath the building’s overhang, eyes glued to the road, silently watching the first snowfall of the month before taking notice of your presence. He flashes you a soft nod and scoots a little to the left, inviting you into his space, which you end up taking.

“When are you planning to leave?” Megumi asks. His face is flushed at this point, the first couple of buttons of his collared shirt are open, and his sleeves are rolled up. He’s got his jacket tossed across his shoulder and, you soon realize, that your ex looks stupidly mesmerizing under the shitty neon lights outside the restaurant.

The answer had been “in about ten minutes” but somewhere between your brain and mouth, the words had taken a detour to Megumi’s long lashes, because instead you say, “Whenever you leave, I guess.”

It’s not like you actually have plans after this anyway. Your apartment might need a deep holiday cleaning after wasting the last couple of weeks working overtime, and you might need to pay the grocery store a little visit to actually start cooking yourself a healthy meal, but that can all wait.

Megumi makes a strange straggled noise at your response and hides his surprise through a long sigh, “So…”

You cock a brow. “So?” You echo back.

Another sigh from Megumi and he finally floods out his words. “The next train arrives in fifteen, we can both make it if you’re fine with leaving now.”

It’s a rare invitation and, despite the initial tension, there’s no way in hell that both of you are letting this opportunity go.

You say yes in an instant, fixing your winter coat around your body and doing a quick three-second check to see if you have everything only to notice that your phone is missing.

“Oh, um—”

“I’ve got it right here,” Megumi fishes out your phone from his pocket and hands it over. “Figured that you would’ve accidentally left it behind.”

For a moment, you wonder if you’re on one of those hidden camera shows. But the look that Megumi gives you, the look that you’re all too familiar with a year ago, it’s there written all over his face. You realize that you are, fortunately, not on a reality show — the alcohol and snow might be paid actors — and your ex, tipsy and but wildly attentive towards you, is completely still infatuated.

You take it without questioning. When you check the phone battery, it doesn’t surprise you to see it almost fully charged too. He’s always been the worry wart, even if he doesn’t show it half the time.

“Gojo recommended this new book series to me,” Megumi says with a small grin, changing the topic. You’re grateful for that, slightly. Even though you can’t quite meet his eyes, your gaze lingers on the way his hand is idly tugging at a loose thread on his shirt, or the way that he’s subtly kicking at the growing pile of snow in the corner, like he can’t stay still. It’s endearing, and you’re left wondering what’s actually going through his mind outside of all things surface level.

You find yourself mimicking his smile, already knowing what might come next. “Bet it’s either a series about friendship and adventure or the nastiest smut he could find in the romance section.” You reply, rolling your eyes.

Megumi lets out a choked laugh, and almost drops his coat. You hide a giggle of your own. “Not anything like that, but I wouldn’t be surprised.” Megumi momentarily eyes you, but then reaches for his phone, pulling it out and thumbs the title ‘Sorcery Fight’ into the search bar. Tons of images pop up, many featuring fanart of who you assumed to be the main character — white hair, wears a blindfold, oddly charismatic in its character description — wait, this all sounds oddly fishy.

“Another self projection?” You realize, instantly.

“Maybe,” Megumi agrees before shifting his weight around, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Did you want to check it out tomorrow…?” He briefly makes eye contact and diverts his attention back to his phone. “If you’re free, that is.” He quickly adds.

You pretend to be in deep thought for a moment, leaving Megumi wondering if he said something he shouldn’t have, because the look on his face screams ‘oh god, have I gone too far’ under all of his aloof persona.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll be free.”

Almost uncharacteristically, Megumi lets out a, “Fuck you,” and that seems like the wittiest response in the world, in that moment.

It descends you into a full on giggling fit, and Megumi can’t help it, your laughter is contagious, and now you’re both giggling, on the verge of leaning against each other helplessly as the winter air is howling rough and bitter around. It’s a damn good thing that the alcohol is still running through your veins, giving you both that hot feeling of dumb immortality.

“Let’s go catch that train,” he looks forward but extends a hand towards you, when you firmly clasp around his fingers, the slightest shade of red coats his cheeks and you’re positive it wasn’t from the weather.

Of course, Megumi ends up at your apartment after you decided at the last minute to pick up crappy, greasy takeout food on the way back at nearly one in the morning. The buzz from the drinks have worn off, but you find yourself slowly gaining confidence scooting besides Megumi as both of you take a seat on the carpeted floor in front of your incredibly dusty coffee table. It’s covered in finger smudges and scratches from all the other previous nights of takeout meals and accidental bumps. You pray that Megumi doesn’t point them out, but a part of you is glad when he wordlessly starts cleaning some of the spots away.

Kinda feels like the old times, you think.

“You ever think that we’re the ones who can’t see what’s going on?” You ask during an opening scene to a British comedian podcast show. It’s a news channel that Megumi likes to watch sometimes, despite not believing half of whatever that’s being reported. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could’ve sworn Megumi’s cheeks are flushing, but it’s hard to tell in the dark.

It’s the takeout food talking. The fries and milkshake combo is making your stomach do weird little flips—or maybe it was from Megumi being close?

You tip your head back, looking out your window, because the thought of looking at Megumi is… hard right now. It makes your heart tight, your throat dry. You’re wondering if he’s even going to show up at your door the next morning, or if you’ll see him the next work day and he’ll make a passing comment about how dumb everything was. Hell, would you even remember this tomorrow with how late it’s getting?

“I’m pretty sure we’re the ones who know what’s up,” Megumi replies, but the words sound hollow, coming from his lips.

“Maybe,” you say, quickly, and the laughter you force out carries the same empty sound that his voice did. “Next time, we should probably have a drink limit to keep them from chatting their asses off.”

“Or never letting them drink again,” Megumi agrees, somewhat, before stealing a piece of fry from your plate.

You hum before testing the waters and letting half of your body go slack against his shoulders. Everything is experimental at this point, so you’re glad when he doesn’t push you away, instead, Megumi leans into your touch, just a little.

“How’s your family? Are they well?” He asks over a news segment. It’s about a modern urban legend, sort of like Bigfoot, but it’s just a guy cohabiting with a giant crocodile. This makes Megumi laugh.

“They are! Parents finally retired so now it’s just me working while they’re relaxing at home.” You let the story wrap up before firing back the same question. “And you?”

“Dad’s still working overseas,” Megumi says with a slight frown.

He’s never really talked about his father, even when you two were together, all you know is that it’s been a complicated relationship since his mother passed away when he was young. His father tried his best raising him all on his own while balancing work, though half of the time Megumi rarely saw him growing up. There’s a bit of resentment, you think, it’s understandable but you can also tell Megumi still holds him high to a certain degree.

“You guys have been talking more though, right?” You vaguely recall a faded memory.

To this, Megumi smiles fondly. “Yeah, we have. Once a month, if he’s not terribly caught up with whatever he’s doing.”

Turns out neither of you have figured out his father’s occupation, which might be for the better. Megumi thinks it’s gang related, and doesn't give it too much thought as long as his father is safe. You, on the other hand, have thought of it being related to overseas construction work, something less… imaginative and dangerous.

“I’m glad to hear that, and also glad you’re doing well for yourself.”

“Yeah,” and Megumi shifts a bit to get a better look at you. There’s fondness in his eyes that steels you to sit up a bit straighter. “I could say the same thing for you.”

“Well, my apartment could use a bit more loving,” you laugh, “It’s a bit hard to manage everything sometimes.”

“Maybe I can help?” Megumi says this with a straight face and you’re wondering if somehow the apple juice with his takeout order is somehow spiked with hard cider.

When somehow you didn’t pick up a hint of alcohol from his breath, from how close you’re sitting against him, you choke on your saliva. “You’re serious about that, Megumi?”

“What? Don’t believe me?”

“No,” you say the words instantly, far too quickly, and feel the immediate warmth spreading to your cheeks, even if you’re trying to look cool and collected.

“Well,” Megumi tips his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “It’s getting late,” he points out.

You glance at your wall clock and, sure enough, it’s three in the morning. You weren’t tired before but, somehow with him pointing it out, your eyes start to grow heavy. You’re grateful for the distraction and you think you just want Megumi to go away, but you know the second he does, you’re going to be obsessing over this conversation. Over the implications, the unsaid words between the fine lines, and well… just about everything that’s been there and been overcomplicated. And maybe Megumi is taking pity on you because he shifts his gaze to your face before settling a firm grip on both of your shoulders.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Megumi scoots a little closer, and you have a moment of panic. Then, you realize that he’s silently asking for permission to lift you up. “Are you planning to sleep out here?”

“Are you leaving right after?” You catch yourself staring at him, a bit too longing, and jerk your head down but he catches your chin, before you can fully pull yourself away.

“No, I’m staying,” he breathes out, his voice a low rumble in your ears. “Is that fine?”

You weren’t expecting that particular answer. You slowly lift your head away, gently freeing yourself from his touch, but staying close enough to nudge your shoulder up against his. Megumi is trying—he’s trying really hard to be open and you feel like your nerves are raging in your body again, although this time, it’s not an entirely uncomfortable feeling.

“I would like that,” Megumi smiles at that, and he lets you lean a head on his shoulder while he slips an arm around your waist, pulling your sleepy figure up, and both of you slip into a comfortable silence.

TAGLIST: @hellothere9597 @sad-darksoul

#doobea writing #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #satosugu #but more in the background lol #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x gn!reader

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vinsmokesangio · 5 months

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"are we on a date?"

pairing: tom blyth x bestfriend!reader x actress!reader

summary: you and tom met not long ago, but the connection you have and affection for each other turns into something more. tom is three years older than reader, she’s initiating in acting.

genre: only fluffy - at least for now

warnings: english is not my first language | no proofread.

N/A.: Hi! I really want to turn this into a series, but I need reader engagement to know if it’s worth it! Don't forget to comment, reblog, and tell me what you think <3 read my social media au here!

word count: 954

It was a cloudy and cold Friday, and you’re feeling completely tired. After several classes and auditions throughout the day, all you wanted was to be at home watching your favorite movies and rest with your comfy pajamas. Picking all of your stuff at the restroom to finally go home, your cellphone rings with a message from Tom, your best friend. Suddenly, there are some butterflies in your stomach… looks like the universe heard you.

It was a wonderful idea, right? Tom’s busy as hell since he got important roles and projects, and despite feeling really happy and proud of him, you miss him a lot and all of your quality times.

Something about the nickname gave you so much comfort and warmth in your heart. Tom was picking you up by car at your drama school in a couple minutes and you couldn't help but feel anxious in a good way.

"Hi pretty boy!" - you grinned while hugging him and putting on your seatbelt.

Tom was wearing a gray sweater matching wonderfully with his pretty blue eyes. Smiling at you, he responded:

"I’ve missed you a lot, honey. How’s your day going by far?" - He said and headed on his way to the nearest coffee shop.

"I’m just exhausted. We're in the final stretch of the Christmas play and I've never felt so tired. It’s like, I don't know, but my mind needs a break." - You sighed, staring in front of you, looking at the light traffic on the busy avenue.

"And I’m here to make your wish come true" - he chuckled. - "We can grab some coffee and watch silly memes on the internet like we used to do, whatcha think?" - Tom is always so gentle and lovely.

Your friendship was really a very healthy, comfortable thing... and every time you saw each other, it was as if you never had any problems in the world. It was just you and him, inside jokes and comfort. You wished you could say how important he is to you, but instead, you simply nodded while you both entered on the drive thru and took your order.

Tom parked the car at the coffee shop and you spent hours updating each other on your busy routines, laughing over tiktoks, singing... There were also moments of comfortable silence between the two of you, the calm you loved and needed so much.

He looked different this time. You didn't know if it was because you hadn't seen each other for a while, but you could feel that something inside you and the way you looked at him was different. A few sparks every time he smiled at you, and you swore you could feel the same coming from him too.

Her cell phone rings, breaking her out of her reverie, showing a call from your mother. You realize that you forgot to tell her that you would be coming home later today, but all you had to do was tell her that you were with Tom and her worry would disappear. She loved him. Sometimes it seemed like she loved him even more than you, her own daughter.

“Enjoy your date tho”, your mother said cheerfully on the other side of the line. You couldn't help but chuckle and feel your cheeks burn, as you looked at your friend who had a confused expression on his face. Before you could answer, she hangs up the phone.

"What does she said? Why were you laughing?" - Tom asked with a funny expression while taking a sip of your already watery iced coffee.

"It’s nothing! Curious boy." - you poke him.

"I don’t believe you. But I know you enough to know that one day, when you least expect it, you'll tell me like it's no big deal." - He teased as he pointed at you between each word.

"I want to show you a video that I forgot to send you." - you tried to change the direction of the conversation, wanting to avoid confessions that might come out too soon. Your mother was always right, and it made you wonder if you were actually on a date with Tom.

After a burst of laughter, you find yourself in a awkward silence trying to catch your breath. “It’s time”, you thought.

“Enjoy your date”, my mom said at the phone. - you finally confess, avoiding his gaze.

Tom looks at you with a surprised, but fun and provocative expression:

"So… are we on a date? Kinda looks like one to me."

You can't hide your smile mixed with an expression of surprise and doubt. It's really impressive how Tom always found it easy to confess things, to be direct, but his goofy personality - which you loved - always confused you about whether he was being serious or not.

"I wouldn't mind if we actually were in one." - You said in almost a whisper, but he clearly listened.

Finally you find the courage to look into his eyes, and notice his calm smile looking into yours with admiration and affection.

"I thought you would never say that. You're a bit slow to even ask me on a date, frankly, buttercup!" - He scowled at you, making you laugh nervously. You're so lost in his "confession" that you can't even notice his hands on your thighs.

The comfortable silence that existed between the two of you suddenly became a little awkward. You take a deep breath, and slowly lean over him to join your lips in a calm kiss, with all the accumulated affection. He reciprocates by taking one of his hands to your face and stroking your hair with the other.

If there was any doubt about his feelings towards you before, it disappeared at that moment.

#tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth imagine #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #giowriting

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lady-raziel · 9 days

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long reaction to the update

ok. so they put out an update video! since i've been commentating for the last three days i might as well subject you all to more of my thoughts today.

main takeaway: this was a good apology video. i mean it. short and to the point, no overproduction, heartfelt and honest (and not a ukelele to be seen. thank god.) they took ownership of the situation, apologized, and restated how much they value their relationship with the fandom.

their solution is to make the watcher tv platform into kind of an iteration of patreon where content is available for early access before it is released onto youtube later. this is clearly a better option than paywalling everything for everyone. i'm not sure what the relative breakdown of costs turns out to be when you compare how much they were making on patreon after the platform took their cut VS how much it costs in overhead to run and maintain their own platform (how much it costs annually to contract via Vimeo, essentially). but i'm sure that's part of the calculation.

all things considered, that does seem like the best option out of all the alternatives. it allows them to not completely abandon any of the pans they have simmering over the fire for the time being. i don't think i ever thought they were going to just say "oops, forget about the streaming thing! let's pretend that never happened!" because at this point they've invested quite a lot of time and money into it, and i don't disagree that keeping it in some iteration may help them make up some of the funds they're lacking.

i would say, it's fine to keep the streamer. this is one of the ok outcomes, all things considered-- but if they're going to do it, they've GOT to do it smart from this point forward. listen to both the fans and the consultants intimately. both are going to have valid points, and both are going to be right. listening to too much of either side will sink this thing because each has motives and expertise that the other doesn't. if the fans say $6 is too much, listen to them-- but have conversations with business consultants about how much you realistically need to charge to make things work.

also, i'd use this whole situation as a learning experience. watcher is a young company, and it's literally inevitable that mistakes will happen. what's different is that the watcher crew haven't really been in a position before where they've been on the receiving end of the internet-angry-justice-hammer to this extent. it's one thing to watch it happen to others, but it's a position of extreme privilege (and a bit of hubris) to think "but that won't happen to me, because i'm built different." naw, man-- two things in life are inevitable: death and fuckups. the callout posts get us all in the end.

what's really important is that they use this as a wakeup call that even the most loyal fandoms will only follow you so far to the cliff's edge, and you don't want to push that. you have to strike a balance between the passion projects that you think are worthy and the stuff that maybe doesn't excite you as much anymore but the people want to see. a little fanservice keeps the lights on, as unfair as that might seem. i'm gonna make 50 markiplier choccy milk memes just so i can make one niche political joke once and a while for 6 likes. it is what it is.

i'd also use this as a chance to take a very careful look at company structure and finances. it's not fun to do and nobody likes it. trust me-- this is hard whether you're a single adult trying to pay the bills or the freaking US government (speaking from experience on both-- i have to read the president's budget for work frequently). but you all have to ask hard questions about the ratio of creative staff you take on VS staff for administrative and other business roles, as well as the costs and benefits of everything you spend money on. how many staff members are essential to location shoots? can this video be shot with 2 cameras instead of 3 and thus you don't need another cameraperson? you might even have to come to the decision that instead of pitching a new show it makes more sense to use those funds to hire your essential non-creative roles or contract firms or freelancers.

paying staff a fair wage with benefits speaks highly of what watcher wants their values to be. it's hard to find such a position in a creative role and still actually get to work on things you care about. but it would be much worse if watcher didn't make realistic decisions about finances and it lead to the death of the company and everyone losing their jobs. the whole watcher company can work, in my opinion, but not without some sacrifices. they're going to have to run it more like a business and less like a youtube-channel-turned-business in the future if they want to survive.

last thing i'll add is that while i do think this was a good apology video, i still think they hurt themselves by not putting out some sort of statement on Friday or Saturday just to say that they were formulating a response. As i've said in other posts, it's ok and in fact beneficial to not make a kneejerk reaction, but it's also very important to communicate that you SEE what's happening. you SEE what people are saying and THAT'S why you need more time to respond. saying nothing and leaving the angry public to wonder if you dropped your phone off the Hoover Dam or just don't care? that's a fumble. it's a common mistake companies make in a crisis, but that doesn't mean it doesn't erode trust fast.

this could have been handled better in many ways. we see that, and i'm glad watcher says they see that too. crucial going forward is taking all this and patching the errors that caused all this to fall apart and learning from the experience.

tbh at this point what i'm most sad about is that the watcher crew have probably been too stressed out and upset to appreciate some of the absolute bangers people have been laying down to clown on them. i think if it wasn't about them they might be touched by the collective attitude and creative spirit. /j

#watcher #watcher tv #after this post i have got to actually not spend time writing long reactions about this anymore because i too #have fires caused by my own fuckups to put out #alas

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i-heart-hxh · 7 months

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So, a few days ago I found this post on Reddit from 2 years ago (that sadly barely got any attention at the time) that sheds a ton of light on the separation scene between Gon and Killua, and my mind is blown! I've known for years that there was some sort of Togashi "coding" in the dialogue and it was always like I could get halfway to understanding, but this post gives the rest of the puzzle pieces that I was missing, and ties into other scenes that I was uncertain about the meaning of as well. It's heartbreaking, but also hopeful for their future! I had to share it with you all. Please read it!

The original Reddit post has been deleted, but here is a link to the author's Reddit profile. (I received permission from the original author to post this here.)

In-Depth analysis on the Hidden Reasons behind Gon & Killua's separation scene (ep 147) Why Gon is 'Number 2'

The translations across the separation scene in both manga (chp 338) and the anime (ep 147, 2011) have some shortfalls. These dialogues are vital for understanding even the first layer of reasons behind this separation.

REASONS FOR KILLUA'S DELICATELY PLANNED SEPARATION

1. WHEN -

There are very important reasons why Killua picked a specific timing to tell Gon about Alluka. It was Killua's plan all along, to only tell Gon at a moment's notice, to make sure Gon won’t get time to ask any DETAILS. He is deliberately downplaying the seriousness of everything he’s been through to heal Gon, so it will have less impact on Gon, and at the same time, avoid Gon asking details. Prior to healing Gon, Killua specifically asked Morel and Leorio to promise not to tell Gon that he saved him. After Gon was healed, there was a scene in the anime (ep 148) which showed the three spent a night together before reaching the World Tree. During that time, Killua still haven't said anything. It wasn't until the moment when they were literally saying the last goodbye, Killua casually brought up:

“Oh, by the way, this guy healed you."

I want to emphasis the word Killua used to address Alluka was “こいつ”. This is a very light and overly casual word used to address someone you know, and usually a playful guy friend (e.g. “This guy used to be my neighbour.” type of feeling). The manga and anime translation, “She’s the one that healed you,” did not clearly depict the intentional casualness.

2. WHAT was SAID -

If Killua just doesn’t want to burden Gon with guilt and responsibility, then why not just keep his mouth shut and say nothing? That’s because Killua found a better option than not telling Gon anything. Killua shifted the “priority of reasons” a bit, so the VERSION OF EVENTS he told Gon, was PRIORITIZED on Alluka’s rescue rather than healing Gon. This way, they will also get to THANK Gon, and put an emphasis on thanking Gon because Killua make it SEEMED like it was more important to rescue Alluka, that the INITIAL REASON for Killua to go home, was to rescue Alluka. Only AFTER Alluka was freed, they came to the hospital to heal Gon, out of convenience, since only Alluka has the ability to do so, and since she’s now outside. The MAIN motive for these past events has been delicately swapped around by Killua, so the focus switched to the rescue of Alluka, rather than healing Gon. Hence Alluka is “No. 1”, Gon is “No. 2”. Downplaying it so healing Gon was just a bonus convenience (ep 147, 19:12 to 19:51).

Killua then goes on another level to make this version of events seem even more realistic, by saying “….You owe me a lot now,” in a teasing and playful tone of voice. This is to again, downplay the seriousness of everything he’s been through, to comfort Gon that "Yes you owe me one now, but don’t you worry! I will make sure you pay it back okay?! Hehe!”

3. WHY -

The fight with Pitou allowed Killua to witness Gon's ultimately immature mind set when it comes to “repaying someone, and redeeming himself.” Kite lost an arm and his life to protect him. So Gon gave his life and was even more happy when Pitou took his arm too. Gon will always want to “match” what was sacrificed by another, by throwing away AT LEAST the same. Not “sacrificing”, but THROWING AWAY. It’s so immature, so dangerous, no one will be able to keep up with him. Killua was very confident with how much he could take, but even Killua himself is at limit. This ultimate baka!! (ep 136, 17:50 - 20:17)

If this is how far Gon will go for Kite, he can only imagine what Gon would go recklessly into if he knew the DETAILS. This is when Killua decided on a way to part with Gon the way they did, and to PROVIDE him a particular REASON.

“I’m prepared to spent the rest of my life protecting her.”

This is the reason Killua wants Gon to know, but NOT what he actually wants to do with his life. Although it’s true he feels responsible and genuinely wish to protect Alluka and Nanika, but it’s not what he ultimately WANTS to do. He NEEDS to protect Alluka, but he WANTS to spent his entire life by the side of a certain baka…

After the previous events, Killua was traumatized, especially when he saw Gon's twisted decaying arm. That was a breaking point for him, after that, the only thing that matters THE MOST for him is for Gon to be safe. He also realized that in order to protect this baka... it’s better if he keeps a distance for now, until he finds a solution to keep Alluka safe from Illumi and his family.

4. THE PARTING -

By planning this parting with Gon, Killua hopes Gon will become detached from him. And that time and distance will slowly render him less important to Gon. So if he was to die... (because Illumi is hunting them down) he did for Alluka, he did it for the vow to protect Alluka, not Gon. We knew Killua always plans ahead, and here, he plants this reason for Gon in the future so he won’t need to feel responsible if he was to die protecting Alluka (or die with Alluka while Illumi is hunting them). This is what’s going through Killua’s head:

“If I die, you’re not responsible for anything. You don’t owe me anything, so NEVER throw your life away again. My only one wish, is for you to be safe. So here I am. I’m parting ways with you... Because I SAID you are only ... No. 2 ... I SAID you are not the most important to me.. So don’t think of me as the most important to you too….”

This, is Killua’s eternal Devotion.

5. THE RESULT -

As a result of this deliberate planning by Killua,

Gon was made to believe:

While I was recovering in hospital Killua had to go home and rescue his sister

Alluka is such a cute sister and she can grant Killua any wish?!!! Wow…that’s one cool sister…

Well… no wonder Killua thinks his cool sister is more important than me, it’s only natural.

Looks like Killua finally found what he wants to do. He will enjoy traveling the world with such a cool sister, it will be so much fun. I should be happy for him, I can’t hold him here... I have to let him go…

The DETAILS omitted:

Gon was not recovering at all in the hospital. Killua RESORTED to USE Alluka in order to heal Gon.

Alluka’s blood stained dark past and the risks and uncertainty that still involves.

Baka Gon is always No. 1 !

Killua and Alluka are desperately trying to find a way to out of Illumi’s grasp. Illumi is hunting them down and trying to make Killua his puppet again. And this time it's not going to be just a needle in the head... Killua can feel it. And if things doesn’t work out, he will just kill Alluka.

These Reasons are the core of the separation. We have a song named “Reason”… aren’t the lyrics shedding a new layer of light now?

6. IMPORTANT WORDS ALLUKA USED TO FACILITATE A BETTER RELATIONSHIP AFTER REUNION -

Killua promised to “always be together” with Alluka.

But to this promise, Alluka’s response was always silent (episode 145, 3:32 to 4:19). She looked at Killua with deep thought. Because even in such a short amount of time, she realized Killua is doing all this to ALSO or MORE SO protect Gon. It was never just for her, it will never be just for her, and there will never be anyone more important than Gon for Killua. She’s moved by Killua’s devotion and resolve, and she can also feel his sadness…

If, the situation was different, if Gon was never there to begin with, and Killua just happened to solely come to Alluka’s rescue, and then make a promise to stay together with her forever, Alluka’s natural reaction will be melting with happiness, she’d be crying tears of joy, and hugging Killua. But in this instance, she was composed, she sensed her brother’s deep seriousness and sadness. That’s why later on, she reassured the two at parting, that they will see each other again, without disclosing Killua’s true REASONS.

The Exacted words Alluka used (Manga chpt 338, 2011 anime epi 147)

a. Manga translation: “I’m going to HUG my brother for a while and then I will LET HIM GO.”

b. Better translation: “I’m going to have my brother all to myself for a while and then I will let him free.”

c. The exacted phrase: “I’m going to Monopolise my brother Exclusively for a period of time, then I will Release him.”

独り占 (Monopolise Exclusively)

Very strong characters with Explicit meaning. Have it all to oneself. Same characters and meaning used in Chinese as well. （独占）

解放 (Release)

This is much more formal and serious than “let go”. It implies the subject was initially bound/locked/restricted. Also the same characters and meaning used in Chinese.

Alluka employed these words to imply a forceful lead in this “deal” of owning Killua exclusively. These words have an underlying tone of enslavement.

Why? Because Alluka knows, the harder she IMPOSES herself on Killua during their time together, the more effective it would be on the easing of Killua’s own guilt.

Killua felt immensely guilty.

No one will enjoy a relationship bound by guilt.

Alluka knows clearly that part of her brother’s promise, was formed with guilt, from using her and Nanika, that he was having fun with Gon while Alluka was literally forgotten. Although it's true that this was largely due to Illumi's manipulation, but the fact that he did just left her in the basement all this time was both unacceptable and unforgivable to Killua himself (episode 138, 13:28).

Therefore apart from protecting Gon, this was the other important reason for this separation. Almost as if Killua has accepted this as a befitting price to pay in order to redeem himself as a brother.

Alluka and Nanika have no condition nor demand in return for Killua’s requests. But Killua imposed a price on himself for having Gon healed. Out of guilt. Alluka knows, Nanika knows. That’s why Alluka used the word 解放 (release), because it will make Killua feel better, that he has complied with her ‘enslavement’, so when the time comes, Killua will be able to release HIMSELF from guilt, and go back to Gon, properly. Alluka loves her brother, and she’s prepared to help him towards a better relationship with Gon in the future, by helping him to eliminating this chain of guilt.

lol Alluka totally ships Gon and Killua ! XD

Thank you for reading.

#hunter x hunter #hxh #killugon #gonkillu #gon #killua #alluka #meta #PLEASE read this post if you have lingering questions and confusion about the separation!#like most of us do!#I think it's incredibly helpful and explains so much #having this makes a big difference to me in how I interpret the meaning and reasons for the separation #and what Togashi did and did not tell us with it

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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imagine being loved by me

#NightSkyChallenge: Prompt 6 — The night we said goodbye. [“This is harder than I thought it’d be.”] [2.5k]

— joel miller x f!reader — a/n: this is mostly fluff and angst, hence the lack of warnings. i hope you guys enjoy this even though there's no smut. there are a lot of feelings to make up for that? anyway, i just wanted to imagine being loved by Joel (in the given canon circumstances) and this is what I came up with. enjoy <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | part two →

"Eternal tourists of ourselves, there is no landscape but what we are. We possess nothing, for we don't even possess ourselves. We have nothing because we are nothing. What hand will I reach out, and to what universe? The universe isn't mine: it's me," you stop there, uncertain and nervous for more than one reason. "You want me to go on?"

Joel only grunts beneath you, and the palm he has wrapped around your calf starts rubbing there. He's a man of very few words — always has been — but you recognize his cues. Go on, the circles on your skin say. And — "I like it a lot when you read," he speaks, startling you for a second. "'s nice."

Three years since you've been doing this — years, and this is the night Joel chooses to speak his mind.

You grit your teeth and put on a smile, no matter how much it aches to do so. "Look at you, borrowing Pessoa's ability to use words 'n all," you tease.

Joel pinches your inner thigh — a warning.

You take one of your hands out of the book to poke his side — I'm not scared of you. Never was. Never could be.

Even if he's about to break your heart.

You continue reading.

He keeps on drinking it in, and you wonder not for the first time if Joel hears a word that comes out of his mouth or if this is just white noise for him.

I like it a lot when you read.

Inside your chest there's a special place saved only for the things Joel gives you as a gift.

There's no space for material things in the world you live in now. Being a man of very few words, you learned how to read Joel Miller from the moment you met him — a useful skill, one that came in handy over the past few years. People misread him a lot. Mostly because he allowed them to; sometimes because he wanted it that way.

They thought Joel was gruff. Callused.

You knew better.

Joel's body language never lied.

He gifted you things that way — a shrug of his shoulders that hid the fathom of a smile creeping up his face. His furrowed brows pierced together whenever someone spoke in louder tones in your presence. The ghost of his hand hovering over your back in between meetings, or the way he never looked you in the eye before kissing you.

All of them signs. All of them a way for him to communicate.

That was funny. I don't like their tone. I've got your six.

I can't let you see within me.

Joel might as well be an open book.

When Tess introduced the both of you, she said, "Just don't gain expectations. He's like us — lost everything. But he's a decent man, which is more than we can say about half of the people that made it."

A decent man was an understatement.

He was everything and then some in between.

Joel kept it simple when telling you that he and Tess had to leave.

Neither one of them owed you explanations, but they gave you one either way. The three of you ran something together — an illegal, dangerous, and fragile something, but it was yours. Built it from your hands.

They claimed you were the brains.

"You gotta stay," Joel stated. Not a request, and nothing in his eyes that said this is open for conversation. "Marlene gave us very little info. We'll try to make it back as soon as we can."

The implicate we don't know if we'll make it back was there.

You never missed the unspoken words.

"Okay," you agreed, because there was nothing else for you to do.

Tess had left with the kid. She hugged you, giving you the full list of contacts that would be seeing you for things, and said, "Take care of yourself" in the way she always did.

Joel stayed behind to collect what he needed, and because he said a day wouldn't make a difference.

Was it over-confident on your part to allow the fluttering in your chest to take full form after seeing him drop his things on your hardwood floor and ask you to go for a walk? Was it wishful thinking to know he was stealing moments?

The familiar sight of his back gives you comfort as you follow him.

That's the way it's always been — you always knew that one day, you'd see this for the last time.

Maybe it's a small mercy that they're leaving.

It's been years—much longer than you initially thought you'd have, much longer than you prayed for after the first night Joel knocked on your bedroom door seeking the comfort he saw in your eyes you were dying to give him, much longer than you dreamed you would have amidst all the chaos.

He walks through the broken gate and keeps the wire lifted for you to pass.

Those things — the little things no one pays attention to.

"Thanks," you smile at him.

He hums as an answer and keeps walking by your side until you're both on the open field. After checking the area, Joel lays down with a grunt, patting the grass next to him.

That's when you started reading.

He just pulls out the book from his backpack and hands it to you.

Read for me, please.

"From where we left off, or you want me to go back a few?" Sometimes, Joel fell asleep mid-chapter. He liked when you went back a few so he never missed a thing.

He shakes his head. "I was listenin'," he lets you adjust yourself on the tree, and lays with his head on his backpack, pulling your legs over his body. Cradling your calf in his palms. "Go on."

So you do.

The sky is losing its light by the time Joel takes his arm out of his eyes, and puts a hand in front of the pages.

You bookmark it, even if he'll never hear the end of it.

For some reason, you stay quiet with him.

Usually, the silence is filled with you — your ramblings, questions about the world from before, silly musings that he indulges in listening to.

There's something tragic about being alive nowadays.

It's not really living — it's this. Reading between the lines, and claiming your stomach is satisfied because of the crumbs.

Joel's hand caressing your skin was a whole meal.

His eyes on you, above everything else, were like water.

When he speaks, it's gruff. "You gonna take care of yourself while I'm gone, right?"

If one day you held back, today is not it. "I will. Can't undo all your hard work."

He frowns, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, c'mon, Joel. It's just us. You and I both know I'd never be alive if it weren't for you and Tess."

"Bullshit. You're the—"

"Brains, I know," you interrupt. "But without the brawn, the brains can't make it that far."

He scoffs at that, and you realize your mistake only when the words are out. "Think we both know nature said that ain't the case anymore."

"Stupid nature," you curse without any heat, and it works. Joel's lip twitches, itching for a smile. "All it's good for is being gorgeous."

"Hm. That'd be you."

Well. They aren't the first nice words Joel's ever said to you, but they make up an even bigger space than everything else. The little box in your chest engraved with J.M. is blanketed in those three little words, and judging by the way he ducks his chin and looks down, Joel noticed his slip up a heartbeat too late.

"Are you gonna take care of yourself?" you ask, nudging his side.

Joel sits up before he answers, taking the place next to you. Then, he spreads his legs and pats the ground between them, and you take the invitation.

Sitting with your back to his chest and his arms around you is your favorite place to be, and something clutches at your throat at the realization this might be the last time.

"I always do," he finally answers.

Your throat is tight, so you place both hands over his arms and pull them tighter around you. "Good," your voice drops to a whisper. "Can't let stupid nature have you."

"She gets us all in the end."

"I know that. I meant before your due time," you insist.

Joel's only half-listening. When he starts rubbing his nose on your hair, tracing the outline of your ears, that means his attention is divided. "How d'you know when's one's due time?"

"Hell if I know. But I know it's not now."

"Yes, ma'am," he plants a kiss on your neck, and you forget words for a while.

Joel always knew how to do that.

He kissed you awake, and sometimes, he kissed you to sleep.

It was common for the two of you to just sit and exist in silence. In a world where there wasn't much space for anything — not for words, or feelings, or relationships, or growth — having this was out of the curve. Having comfort.

He never tensed around you.

When it's just the two of you, Joel's body is the most relaxed; whether it's due to your hands squeezing his muscles or the way you run your palms through his skin to bring him back to himself—he's at ease.

Laid back, shoulders slack. He keeps on leaving kisses across your neck and nape, and you keep your eyes closed, enjoying the proximity. Your nails run through his forearms, and eventually, Joel just stops there in the crook of your neck, breathing slowly.

He asks, "D'you mind if I take your bandana? The purple one?"

Your favorite bandana. His 'lucky charm', as he'd called it once. "No, you can have it."

"You ain't gonna miss it?"

I'll miss you, Joel. A piece of cloth makes no difference in my life. "You need the good luck charm more than me."

"Is that so?"

You scoff, "I'm not the one walking head-first into danger." Craning your neck to look at his face, you lean your head on his shoulder. Joel's face is impassive as always, aside from the little pinch between his brows. "It's your good luck charm, isn't it?"

"It is," he replies, faster than you're used to. A smile grows back on your face. "What?"

"Nothing," you shake your head. "Just — didn't think you'd ever say that again."

He shrugs his shoulders. "'s the truth."

"What made it lucky?"

Joel takes a second with that one. His hand around your upper body finds the collar of your shirt, and he plays with it. He's nervous, and you have no idea why. He shrugs as he says, "Dunno."

Bullshit. "Hmm — something tells me you do."

"Yeah?" he's smiling now.

"Yup," you press, popping the 'p'. Joel stops fighting his smile, and you want to kiss him, so you do. Most of the time, you use restraints around him. Now is not the time for restraint. "Tell me," you plea.

He sighs, the smile still on his face. "That first time I was trying to find alternative routes in and out of the QZ, remember?"

"Yeah."

"So — I'd lost my way. Some Clickers found me and I had to run. Lost my shit—dropped some of the stuff in my bag. I only found my way back 'cause two days later I tried the bridge over the place I got lost at initially and — there it was." Joel's fingertips are tracing your collarbones, and you realize now his body around you is the only thing keeping you from a collapse. "I saw that ugly thing from far, far away."

It makes you laugh — of course he's going to play it cool, make it less of what it is.

You get it. If you had to talk about the things that brought you a sense of home, the only thing that came to mind was the smell of Joel's deodorant mixed with the innate smell of him.

You hide your laugh in his chest, and Joel's hands come up to your nape and the back of your head.

The hurt bubbles up with his touch — you want to drown in your own tears, but he's still here and that would be going before your due time.

"Please be safe." It's rare for you to use the space between the lines, but sometimes you have to.

Please be safe because I need you. Because you've grown inside me. Because the smell of you are vines covering every inch of my ribcages, because every time I wake up and you're lying next to me I remember why we're humans, because Fernando Pessoa might have been right that we possess nothing, but what I am is someone who still knows love.

"I will." Joel heard it all. He pulls your head back to look into your eyes and you see it in his — through the guarded walls of his soul, you get a peak at the man who worries. Who always brings you coffee, who never allowed you to go on dangerous runs, who trusts you to keep his radio codes in case his brother calls for him. You're the lighthouse, he once said. Joel's hand keeps making a mess of your hair, and he looks like he wants to say something, but ultimately, he huffs. "This is harder than I thought it'd be."

"Of course it is," you laugh. "I'm the only one that knows how to make a decent cup of coffee. Or at least, one that you like."

That's when he kisses you.

Because it's true. Not the cup of coffee — Tess can do that as well, even if she never does, but the reality that you're the only one that can and wants to.

The only one who's allowed it.

Living in a world that has no space for living is difficult, but Joel manages to fit the whole human experience in the span of a kiss and some touches.

He's kept you safe, and guarded, and gave you blinks and pieces of the man he once was in return for all that you've given him.

He loves quietly, and kisses hard, and protects with every cell in his body — Joel still loves, even if the word's been burned out of his tongue when he held the most precious life known to him in his arms.

He loves, and you feel it, and you'll miss it.

Joel pulls back with a promise in his eyes that he will be back.

If he isn't, you'll be a moving lighthouse. You'll find him.

☆ join my writing challenge ☆

#usernexusnyx #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller drabble #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou imagine #nightskychallenge #joel miller au

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ghostlykeyes · 6 months

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Hello! :)

First, I'd like to say that I've been enjoying your works so much! They're so well-written and fun to read ^^ I especially loved the one with Kayn and a cute partner, it was so sweet! <3

If it's alright (and there's no worries if not!), may I ask for either Sett or Yone with a shy, soft-spoken partner? Both seem like they'd make a cute pairing! Just completely sfw please.

Tysm! 🩷💫

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

HEARTSTEEL SETT/ SHY READER ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ SFW ♡ No TWs ♡ YESSSS I'm so excited to write for Sett ! While the amount of Kayn content might indicate otherwise I have ALWAYS been a Sett main and I will ALWAYS maintain he is BEST BOI ♡ Thank you for your kind words anon! Hope you enjoy ~

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

SETT

Wonderful, sweet Sett—he can tell exactly when you're worried about a social situation. All it takes is a look, and he knows that you're stuck in your own head, stressed about meeting new people or replaying the last conversation you stumbled through. "Hey," he says gently, bumping you with his shoulder. "You okay?" Sett listens as you talk through your concerns, rubbing a comforting thumb over your knuckles. He's silent until you finish. "I know other people can be rough" he says once you've expressed your struggles. "But honestly? Screw what anyone else thinks about you. You're sweet, kind, cute..." Sett continues the list until he coaxes a smile out of you. "But for real," he says, once you feel better. "I think you're the greatest. If someone else can't see that just because you're a little shy, that's their loss."

Sett knows he's got those Scary Boyfriend Privileges and he's not afraid to put them to work for you. Trapped in a conversation? He'll stand behind you, arms crossed, and glare. Usually the other person says their goodbyes pretty quickly. Need to confront someone? Any disagreement, big or small; say less. Sett is there, definitely not flexing menacingly. And asserting yourself? Well, telling your roommate to do their own dishes is a hell of a lot easier with over six feet of solid muscle backing you up.

Whenever you've got something to say, Sett shushes everyone so that you can speak. It's a little embarrassing, suddenly having all the attention suddenly on you. You do have to admit, though, it's nice to have people actually listen to you for once.

Obviously he can't avoid fans approaching him, but Sett feels so bad whenever you're out together and someone recognizes him. You've already got limited social energy, and now you have to waste it playing nice with heart-eyed fangirls ogling your boyfriend? He understands it's not pleasant. "Sorry, baby," he says to you. "I'll make it quick, I promise." After taking a selfie or two with them, he politely but insistently makes an excuse to leave. "Awesome to meet you," he smiles, winding his fingers through yours, "but we gotta go. Heartsteel schedules, man!" After you make your escape, Sett bends down to kiss your forehead and apologizes for the unwanted attention.

The best way Sett supports you in social situations is through his body language. He comforts you with the soft pressure of a hand on your back, or a reassuring thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles. When you speak, he turns his head to you, fully engaged. And, if you're in a group, he always makes sure to angle his body so that you're included in the circle.

When introducing you to his mom, Sett sticks to you like velcro. The two people he cares about most, finally meeting? Of course he wants it to go well! He practically hovers over you, trying to give you as much support as he can. You can barely go to the bathroom without him chaperoning. Bless his heart, though—he's so nervous and eager to please both his mom and you that it actually ends up making you more withdrawn. Thankfully, his mom—angel that she is—notices how nervous you are. She gives you a comforting smile (the exact same one her son often offers you, you note) and tells you both to relax. "Don't pressure yourself, my dear," she says to you. "My son adores you, which means I do, too. You've already got my approval." Her kindness and warmth is incredibly disarming, and you find it's very easy to come out of your shell around her.

God help the poor soul who tries to speak over you. Sett gets so pissed whenever anyone cuts you off. It doesn't matter if it's a Heartsteel member, or one of your friends, or, fuck it, your own damn mother—Sett's jaw locks and he gives them the dirtiest of dirty looks. "Uh, hey? I think they were trying to say something," he interrupts them, voice firm and eyes hard. And with Sett glaring down at them like that, all bulging muscles and barely-concealed growls and pissed-off-boyfriend energy? They usually quiet down pretty quick, and you're free to continue. They're on Sett's shit-list for the next couple of days, though. He's giving them a glare every time your back is turned.

While Sett loves his bros in Heartsteel, he knows that they all have really big, loud personalities. It can be a lot to deal with, especially for someone so shy. So, he invites you to everything—music video filming, birthday parties, movie nights— but he makes it clear that he completely understands if you don't want to come. Oh, but if you do show up? He's over the moon, and he'll do anything to make sure you're as comfortable as possible. Feeling overwhelmed and need a social break? He'll step outside for a walk with you. Kayn's teasing you? Sett's got him in a 'friendly' headlock in .2 seconds. Said something embarrassing? Don't worry. Sett will immediately distract everyone, even if he's got to say something twice as embarrassing to change the subject. Whatever you need, he's got you.

#heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel #heartsteel x reader #Sett #Heartsteel Sett #Sett/reader #sett x reader #sett lol #sett league of legends

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

Text

bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader

part one | masterlist | song inspo |

Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...

summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.

Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much.

Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction.

Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.

The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time.

“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.

“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”

“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.

“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.”

Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”

Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”

Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.

“So, can we, uh…”

Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”

Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway.

The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.

It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness.

Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.

But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.

Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?

It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit.

Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.

“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care.

Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time.

Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way.

The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to.

He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with.

Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.

It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast.

Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,

A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder.

More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him.

Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.

Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?

Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway.

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears.

“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”

He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened.

“Joel?”

He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen.

You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin.

“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”

There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.

Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.

When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.

“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder.

Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen.

“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”

“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs.

You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes.

What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t.

He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower.

But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering.

You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks.

You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”

You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it.

“Slow down,” he says.

“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous.

Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”

Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet.

Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected.

It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.

“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time.

There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.

“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally.

Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.

Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”

“Were you hurt?”

“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.

“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”

“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.

You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.

“I heard about that,” Joel offers.

“Wait…you knew about this?”

“Yeah.”

“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”

“No.”

“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement.

“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”

“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.

“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”

“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”

“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.

“What are we, like, friends now?”

He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.

“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”

You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.

“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him.

Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.”

You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.

“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”

“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Did you take those antibiotics?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”

“I’m fine,” Joel asserts.

Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him.

“Don’t you have a heater?”

“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”

“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse.

You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”

Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces.

“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.

“I should probably go now.”

You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating.

Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet.

“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that.

Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing.

“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms.

“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it.

“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”

He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”

Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again.

“I could help you loosen up.”

Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.

“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”

“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”

Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it.

“Go lie down on the bed.”

It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?”

“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.”

──────

If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now.

Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger.

It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now.

After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.

Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth.

“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed.

You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s nothing,” you agree.

“I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me….”

You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”

“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”

You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top.

“That’s it, nice and slow.”

Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread.

Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again.

“Turn around.”

You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him.

That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.

“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.

You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens.

“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”

Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.

But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t.

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows.

There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart.

And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.

“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.

The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”

“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again.

You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange.

Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think.

Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.

“Slow down.”

You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass.

He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.

When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”

He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks.

“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident.

Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.

“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession.

“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.

He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.

Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips.

He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”

You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you.

“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.

“When?”

“At night. More than once.”

“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”

“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there.

“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”

You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected.

The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel.

His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger.

“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little – just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.

“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.

Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”

He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.

You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose.

If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture.

And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.

“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.

“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.

“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”

“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.

All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.

“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”

“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously.

“Yes, please, please,”

“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”

“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often.

Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.

You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.”

You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made.

At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life.

So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper.

He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.

You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.

“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”

“But I just wanted to-”

“No.”

You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.

Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much.

“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”

It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t.

“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”

He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks.

“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.

──────

Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t.

He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.

But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had.

You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more.

Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.

“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”

A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this.

Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you.

“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.

“I know, I know.”

You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it.

Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap.

“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”

All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”

“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”

“O-okay.’

He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.

You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though.

Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic.

He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response.

“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.

Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted.

It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek.

Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.

It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him.

You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head. Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom.

A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side.

It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.

He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.

“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”

“What?” you roll to face him.

“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.

“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?”

“You do.”

“So…. I’ll teach you.”

“....Okay.”

“Alright.”

Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around

himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.

You never do.

Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart.

“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this.

The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.

“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”

He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.

──────

taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us writing #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fic #joel miller angst #writing

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skitariiposting · 2 months

Text

Skit's Mini Painting Journey Pt. 3

The Admech one.

C'mon, you all saw this one coming.

Back when I was painting my nurgles purple, I wanted to do a similar color scheme for my Admech army. I slowly moved away from it however, as I didn't quite like the way it turned out. The green and purple look took to Nurgle well, but purple Admech on desert planets didn't make a whole lot of sense. Didn't stop me from trying though, and while they certainly didn't look bad, I'm glad I didn't stick with it.

The Mars Pattern Family

This little fella may look familiar! Here was my first attempt at a more traditional mars pattern skit, and a jawa-esque one to boot! This was a kitbash of a proper galvanic rifle and backpack being added to The Makers Cult's Lil' Recruit.

I mean, Jawa admech is so amazing, but I had to have my little guy properly equipped!

Continuing the Mars linage is a technopriest and engiseer, both TMC printed minis. I love the way these two look. The face-shield on the technopriest looks amazing, and I'm incredibly proud of the reflection on it. The OSL on the hand isn't very visible in the picture, but it also looks really good.

This Thallax bot was supposed to be a Kastellan Bot for @elnubnub, however I got the two mixed up and picked the smaller one. I'm going to eventually remedy that, but he still looks good nonetheless.

This is by and large one of my best pieces in my opinion. Back when @cannibalcaprine had a bird face, this model was more applicable. Dominus Hera has so much soul and time put into her I don't know if I'll ever be able to replicate the state of mind I was in that let me get this mini to look this good. The cloth effects are fantastic, the OSL from the gun is fantastic, the molten axe is fantastic, the color choices and layout is fantastic, the cables are fantastic; I don't know who painted this mini, but it certainly wasn't me. It couldn't have been.

And the most important member of the Mars Pattern Family, the fan favorite: Goober. A kitbash gone wrong gone right. A broken mini finally becoming whole. The legend himself. What more is there to say?

Finally: The Submechanicum

Penelope, the Ocean Queen. My first model I painted for the Submechanicus. I'd love to say that this is my magnum opus, considering I made a whole video about her and everything...

However, I must rip the band aid off and say that this is the first version of Penelope...

Because what immediately followed her was this beast. This is the Krabaphron, another contender for one of my best models. This sucker was so genre defining, that it set a new standard for the rest of my Submechanicus army and would cause me to re-do my color-scheme and paint job planning going forward.

I based all of my future Submechanicus models off of it, using it as a template. The Skits and Techpriest both got the same treatment and I've got to say, I'm in love with the way it looks. I've continued using this style so far and I haven't had to make many modifications.

As such, Penelope... didn't quite fit the bill anymore. She stood out from the rest of the models.

So... after a livestream of planning and base layering...

She was finally given the paint job she deserved.

And that's just were our story begins fair traveler... With the rise of the Depth Guard, a proper protector of the Submechanicus will be needed to combat the forces of Nurgle... And coming late April, there will be such a machine surfacing, with a video to present it.

Of course, this is quite an older photo. It's far more painted than that. I've teased photos of it so far, however I'm saving the proper display of it for the video, so be on the look out if you want to see the completed product!

And that's about it! Hope you've enjoyed this little walk down memory lane and gallery of my mini painting endeavors! I'll be making a website for easier viewing once I've gone through and gotten some more professional looking pictures done. Thank you for reading and viewing!

-Jerry

#adeptus mechanicus #admech #skitarii #40k #warhammer #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #miniature painting #mini painting #skitposting #photo dump

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cochineal-leviat · 5 months

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Sweet Dreams, Stardust

Okay, so I have a lot of feelings about In Stars and Time. But let me say first, wow, this game irreversibly changed my brain network. For anyone who is considering buying this game, please do. I don't think I've had a story touch my heart and mind like this for a long time. And that goes without mentioning the stunning visuals and entertaining battle system. (Be careful, though, because this game handles heavy topics regarding mental health)

If you're still hung up on buying it but are curious, there is a free demo on Steam if you like to try.

Thank you, @insertdisc5, for this gem of a game. I will be turning it around in my head like a microwaveable gourmet meal for months to come.

Technically the illustration has no spoilers (unless you count Siffrin having a good nap as a spoiler). But I will be going into heavy spoiler territory under the keep reading since I need to get my thoughts on this game off my chest.

And a monochrome version because you know me, I can't help myself. Even in black and white art pieces, I will put in some colour.

And a very tiny Loop

Initially, I was going to do a piece with a theatre stage and the cast (Siffrin, Mirabelle, Isabeau, Odile, Bonnie and the head house maiden) taking a bow and finally leaving the spectacle to a life not controlled by a script and Wish Craft. But it was more fitting to put my feelings into creating a peaceful scene. Like, oof, I needed this very badly. I used sepia to make the painting warmer and added some more details like headcanons. The stars/colours might be remnants of Siffrin's transformation. Or maybe they were always there, but he never paid attention to it. Who knows.

I'm going to keep this brief. Otherwise, this post will take way too long.

I adore Siff's character. It's perfect for a game and narrative such as this. I saw a post not long ago on Tumblr going into depth about how their role as the rogue and not the hero works so well, so I won't linger on it for long. But how they would rather listen and fade into the background perfectly aligns with the player's experience of being the silent observer. (And the nodding off that changes into zoning out. It took me way too long to realise that small but essential narrative change) Oh, and the portrait change! It flew over my head until I was staring at the game menu. I was so confident Siffrin had a mischievous grin and not a frown. I always feel slightly surprised when the party asks for Siff's opinion or mentions that they have been too quiet. I felt Siffrin's excitement like my own when he got excited at finding clues to end the nightmare they were in. So I knew it would end up falling on their face because they were too excited. I just had this bad gut feeling the whole time during Act 4.

And oh boy, speaking off acts. I thought it would have been the standard 3. Boy, I was wrong. Whenever I felt I was nearing the end, I was thrown back at the start with more mysteries than answers. It made exploring the game intriguing since there is almost no information about it online (at the time of writing this post). There is the Discord, but I didn't know about it until I finished it.

This game has a lot of secrets, and I had a lot of fun uncovering them. The looping mechanic works so well in discovering little details and further leads. (even though my stubborn arse kept trying to do everything in the least amount of loops as possible. I thought the ending would be different if I exceeded a 100. My final number is 59. I am still not sure if I should be mad about it not being a rounded number like 60 or that I went over the 50 threshold)

However, it is a good thing that only some mysteries were solved. Like, what's up with colours in this world? Everyone sees in black and white, and the idea of shades and colours is only spoken of in scientific studies. They do exist and are not a part of the disaster that happened to Siffrin and their land. But there is definitely something mysterious about it. I adore how the dialogue reflects this, as the characters do not speak of shades or colours. Isabeau expresses surprise to see a streak of red colouring the sky in Act 6. It makes you think about how colour is perceived and how you describe it. (The lore inside this game is immaculate. I eat this shit up)

We never find out the name of the country north of Vanguard or what it was like. We can only infer that the beaches had black sand, with shells that shine like stars, high-reaching mountains, forests and plains. Which is vague and yet intriguing enough to make you wonder. It connected me to Siff and King because I also wanted to know. I was desperate to know. I needed to know. But in the end, we never will know because that is not the story's point. Siffrin even says in the game, that King should let go because he is hurting everyone and everything, including himself, in his desperation to preserve Vanguard. This is all the more ironic when Siff accidentally does the same with his family and the loops. I might gush more about what the country might be like and their technology in another post. This game makes me want to theorise. This is the first time I've wanted to write and post theories. ISAT fucked me up good.

Which, by the way, was genius. Siffrin and King are mirrors of each other. Siff does not have King's disastrous ambition, but their love/obsession will be the downfall of both of them. They have more than being each other's countrymen in common, and I imagine Siff despises that.

I love the fact King's question to Siffrin before the showdown was/could never be answered. Usually, in a game such as this, you must figure out how to solve everything, especially for the big bad. But that was never the goal. King is a delusional monster who will not stop before achieving his dream. He will raze everything to the ground and hurt many people because he must succeed. It is what he desires. Nay, the universe wills it. What a witless excuse that can easily be made into someone's truth. Especially to somebody who is driven mad with grief.

How King's character's done is so excellent. Because, at first, I wasn't scared of him at all. He was just the big bad, and I felt nothing much but the glory of victory when Siffrin outsmarted him by looping and making sure Mirabelle learned the shield spell that would protect the party from freezing in time. But each time you fight him, you get more frustrated until Siff figures that talking to him might be fruitful. It does, but unfortunately, you and Siffrin leave yourself emotionally and mentally vulnerable. King stops being a one-dimensional villain and changes into an actual person. Someone you can sympathise with and possibly mend peace with without fighting. You and Siffrin opened his heart for a kindred spirit and got hurt.

King stopped being a monster and became human. And while monsters are wretched, humans have intent behind their cruelty. I felt so betrayed, so angry, but most of all - terrified. I felt it when Siffrin spiralled when fighting King again after their actions caused such a catastrophic turn of events for Bonnie. Every time after that, the fight with King felt tense and nerve-wracking in a dreadful way. Because even victory could not soothe the dread I felt. (The track 'It's finally over" will forever haunt me. I already feel anxious whenever it cycles to that when I listen to the playlist)

He was not, however, the final villain, even though everything that happened was King's fault. You were always your greatest enemy (or Siffrin in this case, since you are supposed to be Siffrin). I never could have guessed that the whole reason why Siffrin could not escape the loops was because Siff accidentally wished to never let go of their friends. This reminds me of Modaka Magica, where (spoilers for the OG anime) Homura goes back in time so much that the universe ties itself around Modoka, making her a waiting egg whose wish and magic will be massive when she becomes a magical girl. The one thing Homura was trying to prevent.

(Siffrin and Homura are identical in that sense. Shy characters who are loyal to a fault but are rendered into something cold, bitter and cutting by their traumatic experiences. Only Siff has people who care about them and would do anything to save him, too, whereas Homura never lets go, making the world a worse place to live in. Yes, I did go into doomed Yuri. That anime lived in my mind rent-free in my mind for years)

The Head House-maiden not being the villain was also a great touch. I am used to the apparent antagonist turning out not to be the big bad and the trusted, friendly character ending up being the evil one. Twist villains no longer work when everyone expects them to be villains.

That was my biggest theory as I played. The second biggest being that Loop is someone who enjoys Siffrin's suffering. I am so glad that was also not the case. They are apathetic but not cruel. Never intentionally, anyway. They were like the player, urging Siffrin to go deeper into the mystery to solve it. Ultimately, I chose and made cold and cruel decisions simply because I wanted to see what would happen. So yeah, I warmed up to this cosmic star thing as the game went on and even started trusting them. Act 5 really is a punch in the gut. I am so sorry, Loop. Thank you for coming through in the end.

Oh man, this is so long, and I haven't even gone into the main cast. I will leave that for another post. They are such great characters, as are the people of Dormant and the House. (Don't think I don't see the wordplay in this game. Very clever)

Going into this game completely blind was the best experience I could have had. I felt anxious, happy and scared so severely that my neurons were rearranged. I don't know if there are more endings (aside from the obvious action of attacking Odile in the True(?) ending of the game), but I am taking a break from it to make art and write for this game before I dive back into despair-o-land.

Anywho, thank you for coming this far and reading my ramblings. Have a fantastic day or evening further! o(*'▽`*)ブ

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