Tumgik
#you cannot tell me he would not pull a stunt like this
megu-meow · 10 months
Text
bbycakes - gojo satoru
Tumblr media
gojo x small.fem.reader
Summary: Satoru has to constantly look out for the crazy stunts his girlfriend keeps pulling.
Tumblr media
Gojo adored how much he towered over you. From the moment he met you, he knew he had to protect you with all his power. It didn't matter to him how strong of a sorcerer you were and how willing and able you were to fight, he always felt the urge to be your knight in shining armor. It was his way of showing how much he cared, given that he had no idea how he should be showing his love and affection towards you in a more conventional way.
He was obsessed with the way his clothes looked huge on you, how his sweatshirts fit you like dresses and how his t-shirts could reach down to your knees. He observed with a wide grin every morning while he was getting ready to leave for work how your shoes were half the size of his, which was both because of your small feet and his inhumanely large ones.
Sometimes he was annoying about your size difference, he made a habit of resting his arm on the top of your head, which made you look like a child in front of your colleagues, the higher-ups, and even the kids you were trying to teach how to be responsible, talented sorcerers. He also scolded you every time you tried to take on a more challenging mission on your own, lecturing you about the danger you were facing. Sometimes he would treat you like a kid because, in his eyes, you were fragile and small like one. He had to remind himself how strong you actually were, sometimes he forgot you were a semi-grade one sorcerer, a very talented one in his opinion, but it was easy for him to forget when you were the love of his life, his main source of happiness that he wanted to cherish and keep safe until the end of his days.
He didn't actually realize how challenging keeping you safe was until you moved in with him. All the furniture in his home was custom-made to comfortably fit the freakishly tall sorcerer, meaning that all the cabinets were too high up for you, you could barely reach the top of the kitchen counter, you didn't ever try to get your favorite book off the shelves knowing you could never get to it. Gojo loved how you had to rely on him to get your favorite mug for your morning coffee, how you begged him to get a step-stool so that you can cook dinner comfortably, or how you asked him every time if he could hand you the book you wanted to read next. However, he was not always around and you had to improvise, just the way you did your entire life, making the tall sorcerer freak out.
The first time it happens he's in the shower and your dinner needed a little bit of extra spice. Unfortunately, you ran out of chilly power and you had to refill the container with more pepper flakes, which were on the top shelf of your kitchen cabinet, one that you cannot reach even with the help of your stool. So you hop on the top of the kitchen counter, rummaging through the sweets and other spices Satoru showed in there.
"...smells amazing, baby, what's..." he walks into the kitchen with a joyful tone and a wide grin, but he freezes at the sight in front of him "what the hell are you doing?" he quickly runs up to you, putting his large hands on your waist, getting you off the counter and embracing you close to his chest, like a teddy bear. Your legs instantly lock around his torso and your arms are secured around his neck to keep your balance.
"I was trying to get the extra chilly powder, we ran out and I had to refill the container."
"No, pretty girl, you were trying to give me a heart attack." he murmurs, walking closer to the cabinet and getting the spice you were looking for.
"Well it's not my fault you put it so high up that I couldn't reach it." you tell him, poking his pretty nose with your finger, making him scoff, but he still gives you the thing you were trying to fetch yourself and he leaves a loving kiss on your forehead. "Thank you, 'toru."
"Next time you need anything, just tell me baby and I'll get it for you, okay?"
"What if you're not around?"
"I'll teleport, it's fine, I just don't want you getting hurt."
"I'm not a baby, Satoru, you know I'm not going to get hurt. I've been doing this my whole life, I'll be fine."
"I know, I just worry. Now let's eat before the amazing food you cooked gets cold, okay my mochi?" he kisses your temple lovingly and he slowly puts you down on your own feet, observing with doe eyes as you move around the kitchen plating the food.
The next time it happens you're in the bathroom. You just finished your shower and the fog is thick, given how hot you like the water as you clean your sore body. Satoru is still out with his students and you notice that the vent stopped working, the foggy air getting unbearable in the confines of your shared bathroom. However, the windows are narrow and up high on the wall to give you privacy and you cannot reach the handle to open them. So you step onto the edge of the bathtub, leaning a bit to the side on your tiptoes. That's when you feel a huff and you're suddenly falling into the soft mattress of your comfy bed. You yelp out in shock, Satoru's hands holding you tightly as he is panting, his face contorted in shock.
"What was that, baby?! You could have slipped, are you crazy?!"
"I was fine, Satoru. When did you even get home?"
"Just a few minutes ago, I was looking for you, then I figured you were in the shower, so I teleported so that I could join you, but found you on a death quest."
You roll your eyes at him, you were in no danger whatsoever, but you know he thrives on the feeling of being your "savior". He starts tickling you and you shriek from the feeling of his long fingers dancing around on your sides. He also makes you promise him that you're not gonna pull another one of your stunts ever again in return for him stopping his "brutal torturing" - as you call it.
"You're gonna be the death of me, babycakes." he murmurs into your neck, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive skin between your collarbone and shoulder.
However, besides all of his efforts to stop you from doing stupid stunts, it happens again. This time is the worst. You were playing baseball with the kids, your way of making training a bit more enjoyable for the teenagers you were taking care of. Inumaki was the one that batted the ball into a tree and it got stuck between the branches quite high up. You were used to climbing into tall spaces and you volunteered to get the ball so that you could resume the friendly game you were in the middle of. Satoru was in his office, doing paperwork. He was bored out of his mind, so he started swirling around in his seat, looking outside the tall window. He spotted you straight away, on the top of the oak tree, trying to reach something a bit too far away from you. His heart skipped a beat in fear and he teleported instantly, popping up under the tree. His sudden appearance startled you and you slipped, falling down in an instant. Luckily, he was able to catch you and you were not harmed. The kids rushed to your side, asking whether you were okay, but there was no answer. You were still in shock, looking at the black cloth covering your boyfriend's eyes. His stance was stiff and despite not being able to see his whole face, you knew he was seething with anger.
You felt a huff of air and you found yourself in Shoko's office, the young healer barely bothered by your sudden appearance. She must have been used to Satoru showing up at any given moment without warning.
"Can you please check if she's alright, Shoko? She just fell from a tree."
The brunette nodded and as soon as she started examining you Gojo left, slamming the door behind him.
"Gosh, you must have pissed him off really badly. What happened?"
"Well, he keeps babying me every time I crawl up on something so that I can reach shit, last time it happened he made me promise that I wouldn't do it anymore and today I fell off a tree while trying to get a baseball. I don't understand what the big deal is, though, he was there to catch me." you explain and Shoko looks at you unamused.
"What if he wasn't?"
"What?" you ask in confusion.
"What if he wasn't there to catch you?" she asks as she checks your pupils with a light.
"Well...I've been doing this my whole entire life and I've never gotten hurt..."
"You can't bargain like that with Satoru..." she says curtly and you feel slightly offended.
"What's that supposed to mean, Shoko?"
"I'm gonna explain this to you because I know that you are stubborn and you will ruin what you have with that gigantic asshole because of your pride..." she blurts out the words quickly, you have to lean in closer to her so that you can understand what she's saying "Satoru has witnessed a lot of injuries and deaths in his life, that's why he never lets anyone get too close to him, that's why he doesn't get involved with anything or anyone. You will crush him, if anything bad happens to you. You are important to him, I would even say you are his number one priority, if you get hurt he will not forgive himself in this lifetime, because what's it worth being the strongest if you can't protect what you love most?"
It takes a few minutes to process the information you were just given, but as soon as you do a single tear runs down your cheeks and you're up on your feet, running out of the hospital room yelling a "Thank you, Shoko", trying to find your boyfriend. He is sitting in the waiting room, his head buried in his hands, long legs splayed out lazily. You would laugh at his position, that man doesn't know how to sit properly, but you have other worries at the moment. You walk up to him, putting your arms around him, embracing him lightly. It's funny how he is sitting down and nearly the same height as you standing up. He doesn't say a word, even worse, he doesn't reciprocate your embrace.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I know you worry a lot and I shouldn't be pulling stunts like that, knowing it pisses you off. I know I was being reckless, but I promise I will not do it again, I learned from my mistake." you say, leaving kisses on top of his head. You notice how his blindfold is missing, it is hanging from around his neck, his hair messy from running his hands through it too many times in the last 15 minutes.
"You said that already." he mumbles, it is barely audible, but you catch it and your heartbeat speeds up at his dismissive tone.
"What, Satoru?"
"You promised me once that you're not going to pull any of your crazy stunts again, that you would ask for my help." he says and suddenly he pulls back from your embrace, locking his cerulean eyes with yours "How do I know you won't break your promise again?"
His expression is unrecognizable, he's never looked at you like that since you met him. It's somewhat scary and it causes your tears to multiply. You're also flabbergasted by his question, you don't know how to answer it. He's right. You know it, you broke his trust, his reaction is appropriate.
"I'm sorry, Satoru. Please forgive me, I know you don't believe me right now, but I promise I will not do anything dangerous like that again. I love you and I don't want you to worry about me more than you already have to." you sniffle quietly, trying to wipe away the tears running down your cheeks with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, one that Gojo put on you before leaving you with Shoko.
He looks at you, his gaze softening, he always hated when you cried. He wanted to blast everyone and everything away with Hollow Purple that caused you to cry, he never thought he would be the reason one day for your tears. His giant hands lock around your waist, pulling you closer to him in his warm embrace.
"I love you, that's why I need you to be safe at all times." he mumbles.
"I know, baby, I know, I understand now. I will be more careful, I promise, Satoru."
"Okay, I forgive you. BUT..." he says a bit more harshly "You will have to bake me a thousand batches of your rhubarb cookies that I like so much if it happens again."
You laugh at his response, the tension leaving your body as his unbothered, childishly loving persona returns. He kisses your tears away, keeping you close to his chest, his embrace strong and safe.
After that, you never climb another cabinet, the bathtub, or any tree. Every time you need something that you can't quite reach, you call your giant boyfriend to get it for you and he does it with a Cheshire smile, lavishing in the feeling of being helpful and always there for you.
1K notes · View notes
citrustan · 4 months
Text
slipping through my fingers [2] (myg)
title: and the hits just keep coming 1.0
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut
summary: you lean on your friend for support and an escape, but the reality of your situation keeps flashing before you.
warnings: [there's a prologue and part 1 that should be read before this one!] just some insecurity, some sad vibes, you know the drill.
Tumblr media
Taehyung fails to dodge the fifth pillow you launch at him. "Let me explain!" Repeatedly begging you to stop, he crashes into your kitchen counter.
A pillow to his leg.
"Wait! Please!" He's dodging for his life.
Another pillow to his chest.
"You're an angel! Pleas-" Headshot!
"Ough! Not the face..." He pauses to soothe his aching nose.
By now, you're out of energy too. But, there's still a lot of anger in your stomach. You're too guilty and too tired to let it out on the wrong person.
You spent over twenty minutes reprimanding him for hiding Yoongi's fiancée from you.
Finally having a fraction of a minute of peace, your friend sits you down by your dinner table.
He disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to cradle and console your heart by yourself.
You hear a few utensils clashing and see him juggling four things in his hands; your cat mug, his designated frog mug, a bottle of white chocolate liqueur and a carton of what looks like chocolate milk.
Pointing your finger at the tetra pak, you protest, "Excuse you, that's the expensive chocolate milk and it’s for Nao."
He looks at the half-empty carton in his hand and back at you.
"You're telling me Nao drank more than half of this bottle in a day? And you let her?" Taehyung deadpanned.
...
"Yeah." Your eyes wander as you insist poorly.
He ignored you and poured you a glass of the milk.
Sitting across from you, he grew solemn, "_____, I swear I didn't know it was like this." - "But you knew about her?" You asked before he said anything else.
Taehyung couldn't deny it, "Yeah. But I thought she would just be like the others."
Yoongi had others.
All grumpy, you sigh. "The others?"
Momentarily, he froze and exhaled. "Yeah, there have been a few. He was... I don't know. He kept saying he was serious about each of them but nobody ever... stuck around? So, we thought he was lying or something." Taehyung regretted his choice of words.
You want to believe him, but you both know that Yoongi isn’t someone who lies like that. Let alone big lies, Yoongi won't even tell little white lies.
Over the years, you naturally assumed he was dating around, but you didn't know. Nothing was confirmed. You never asked and he never told you anything himself.
"Who all knew?"
"Everyone. But nobody even imagined that they'd be getting hitched." He shook his head in disbelief.
“Obviously. This is Yoongi you’re talking about,” you pause, “But didn’t you notice anything different with them?”
“I’m telling you, _____, we had no idea.” Taehyung cringes after taking a sip of the sweet liqueur. “I think he wanted to tell you first.”
You wish he never had.
"What are you thinking?"
You dip your head in between your palms, “I feel terrible. It’s like I know I want to cry but I’m so emotionally stunted right now, I cannot get it out. It’s like a stuck yawn.”
Taehyung caresses your arm, "Can I do anything to help?"
You shake your head, "I don't think so, Tae."
"Oh! Do you want to watch 'The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas?' Maybe that will help you cry." He tilts his head, eyes filled with hope.
At that, you let out a surprised laugh, "Taehyung, no!"
Basking in the little moment of success (by making you laugh), Taehyung internally pops confetti.
But, the moment was just that. A moment. Your happiness faded away as quickly as it came.
So, he pulled his phone out and placed it in front of you.
Taehyung’s hesitant to ask you this but he does it anyway. “Do you want to see her?”
You don’t know. (You’d rather pretend she doesn’t exist.)
If it weren’t for Nao, you’d have no problem ignoring Yoongi’s girlfriend. Even thinking of the words ‘Yoongi’s girlfriend’ makes you want to end it all.
It’s no secret that you’re still madly in love with your ex-boyfriend.
This situation felt so ridiculous to you, you couldn’t digest it. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening to you.
As a young girl, you never thought it was in the books for you to go through this kind of pain. And, you don’t have a whole lot to lean on. So, Yoongi has always been it for you. He always told you he’d be there for you no matter what.
Even after your breakup, he was by your side.
When you unexpectedly caught the chicken pox from Nao, he took care of you. Even when Taehyung insisted on helping you instead, Yoongi sent him away.
You shared every birthday with him. He’d throw you a small party. Every year, it was a different theme. This year was ‘enchanted garden.’ He always ordered you a custom cake from out of town. It made everything special.
He even helped you open your quaint little bakery. Yoongi was the one who helped you finalize your menu. He tasted everything and even got himself sick because of it.
He stood by you when you got sued by your competition, another old-timey cake shop, for stealing their clients and recipes. He acted as your lawyer free of charge.
Now, you wonder if it was all out of convenience or… an obligation. Had you read it all wrong? Was he simply being polite because you’re the mother of his daughter? Would he stop doing things for you now? Did he ever do those things for you? Or were they simply for your daughter by extension?
Would he be too focused on his wife now?
Even for Nao’s sake, you never once got the urge to know the woman who did the unthinkable.
As a co-parent, you trusted Yoongi. You knew Yoongi would never let just anyone around Nao. If he wants to introduce his daughter to a woman, you knew it was safe. She could be the next Mother Teresa for all you know.
All this blind trust has been earned by him throughout the years you’ve spent with him, you’re not a careless mother.
However, as a woman and Yoongi’s ex-flame, you weren’t eager to know the woman who replaced you. You don’t want to see or meet her. In your eyes, she was able to compel Yoongi to do something he wouldn’t do even after you begged him to. Maybe she didn’t even have to try. She was probably just that perfect for him.
This is apart from the fact that he fell in love with another woman after you while you’re still hung up on him.
You don’t think you can afford to willingly take a hit to your self-confidence like that.
Nao looks up to you. You know you cannot lose yourself when you have so much relying on you.
Taehyung was kind enough to let you get lost in your thoughts.
“No.” You finally answer his question.
You did not want to see what she looked like.
Taehyung nodded once, “Okay. That’s fine.”
Just when Taehyung’s about to put his phone back into his pocket, it rings.
And on the screen pops this gorgeous woman. She looked like she stepped straight out of an issue of Harpar’s Bazaar or even Vogue. You weren’t surprised, you smiled and involuntarily snorted. Taehyung did have a type.
He hurriedly tried to pull his phone off the table, knocking your (thankfully, empty) glass of milk in the process.
“You don’t have to hide her from me, Vincent.” You tease him, using his artist alias. “Is she your new muse?”
Taehyung awkwardly laughed, blatantly ignoring your question.
Suddenly, he changes the topic, “Oh! Do you have to go into work today?”
Your smile drops a little. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
He offered a strained smile, “It’s like I can feel the alcohol in my veins.”
“Heyyy... What’s up with the model babe? Why are you deflecting?” This time you pout.
You hear his phone ring once again. But he immediately declines.
“Taehyung… What’s the matter?” When he refuses to acknowledge you, you grow more concerned.
“You don’t have to stay, you know?” You continue to reassure him.
“It’s not,” he cuts himself off, “That wasn’t my girlfriend.”
Taehyung hopes he doesn’t have to face your inevitable question in line.
“Well, who was that the….” When you trail off mid-response, he knew you had figured out who that woman really was.
The two of you are silent for a moment.
Sullen, you whisper, “That’s his fiancée?”
Taehyung wishes he never came over to your place. He didn’t want to be the one to make you feel this way.
He nods once. Not that you needed that confirmation.
Quickly moving on to your next thought, you question, “Why is she calling you?”
Already on it, Taehyung visibly cringes at the messages on his screen when you push yourself forward to peek into his phone. This time, he doesn’t try to obstruct your vision.
Hyejin (3)
Sorry! I forgot you were at _____’s. It’s nothing important, I just had a question about Nao-chan. Does she like lemon cake? How is _____ doing btw?
Your mouth dropped open.
You don’t even acknowledge the fact that she’s speaking about you so personally; as if you were a friend or even an acquaintance.
You ignore the fact that she’s fucking stunning, owning the most symmetrical, aesthetically pleasing face you’ve ever seen on a grown woman.
You don’t even dwell about how you do not stand a chance against this woman.
The only thing you see is her nickname for your daughter. You squeak, “She calls her Nao-chan!”  
That’s YOUR name for YOUR babygirl.
“Angel…” Taehyung begins but has no idea what he could possibly say to comfort you.
Pull yourself together. You mentally discipline yourself. It takes a minute for you to get there.
Instead of dealing with whatever you just felt, you push it away in an instant and beam at your friend.
“Whatever. Let’s get cheesy naan and shrimp skewers!”
Of course, your faux smile didn’t fool Taehyung, but he went with it anyway.
Tumblr media
₊˚.🎧 ✩。tears are in your eyes by yo la tengo ₊˚.🎧 ✩。
note: i hope i'm doing this series justice lol the ideas in my head run too wild for me to actually make note of them. please let me know what you guys think!
541 notes · View notes
zorosdimples · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
GOOD PET
Tumblr media
pairing ༄ lucifer x gn!reader
warnings ༄ minors: please do not interact! i will block you. brief sexual content, pet play, dubious consent, voyeurism, exhibitionism. reader is self-conscious about their chest, but their genitalia isn’t mentioned, and they are referred to as “you.” lucifer is mean!!! please let me know if i should add anything else to the warnings!
word count ༄ 1123
notes ༄ i told jules @bizarrebankai forever ago that i would write this based on a post she made about lucifer and pet play. i never thought i would write pet play, but here we are! my initial vision for this piece was much softer, but…it took on a life of its own. i hope everyone enjoys <3
Tumblr media
your neck prickles in anticipation as lucifer emerges from his closet and approaches you steadily, collar in hand. his predatory eyes are crimson—fresh blood on a sharp blade—but as he steps up to you, he raises a gentle gloved hand to cup your face. he breathes a wry chuckle as you melt into his hold.
“did you think you would get away unscathed after that stunt you pulled during my meeting, darling?” lucifer coos, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone, teasing tenderness. “no matter how sweet you are, you cannot escape your punishment.”
a foolish human, you rush to your own defense. “it was mammon’s idea and—” lucifer squeezes your jaw to stop your prattling, your glossy lips puckered into a cute pout.
the demon has half a mind to kiss you stupid and take you against the wall, but that wouldn’t be fun, now would it? after all: you must learn your lesson.
your gaze flickers down to the collar. the buttery black leather is accented by a gleaming buckle. no frills, no embellishments, no nonsense—much like your lover. the only notable feature of the collar is hidden on the interior lining: lucifer’s name spelled out in little silver stamps, each letter flipped backwards so when the collar hugs your neck, the cool metal nips at your warm flesh. after it’s unbuckled and removed, the demon’s name is branded into your skin.
it’s an ephemeral reminder of who you belong to.
“good pets only speak when they are spoken to,” lucifer reprimands as he fastens the collar around your neck tight enough to be uncomfortable. you whimper as you feel his name kiss your throat.
he offers you a sinister smile, wine-dark irises glowing with foreboding. “mammon will receive his punishment too, i can assure you. but i would be more concerned about myself if i were you.”
the thinly-veiled threat curls against your nape and gooseflesh skitters across your limbs. you shiver. lucifer pats your head like an owner comforting his jittery lapdog before crossing his arms and giving you a firm command: “strip.”
your fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you pull it off in one swift motion; your bottoms pool at your feet soon after, then finally your undergarments fly to the floor. perhaps you should feel vulnerable—nude and collared before the fully clothed demon—but you are single-mindedly focused on avoiding any further transgressions.
lucifer barely spares you a glance before he turns his back to you and walks toward the mahogany door. “better. now follow me.”
dropping on all fours, you trail after lucifer, knees knocking and palms dragging against the gnarled hardwood floor. you hesitate when he turns a corner and heads in the direction of the front entryway. as if he has eyes on the back of his head and can hear your thoughts, he stops to assert, “all my brothers are where they should be.” he doesn’t need to tell you to keep moving—the order is in the steel edge of his cool tone.
descending the stairs is difficult, and you scurry to keep pace with lucifer’s long strides, his footsteps muffled by the plush, centuries old carpet that leads to the living room. you follow him obediently down the winding halls, breathing sharply in and out of your nose so you don’t pant like a dog. confusion clouds your thoughts when the demon stops outside your bedroom.
you can taste the question that sits on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow it down. wordlessly, lucifer opens the door, and you halt mid-crawl, a shocked gasp tumbling out of your lips.
mammon is bound and gagged, hanging upside down from the ceiling. the magic-imbued rope crackles and sparks as it comes into contact with the demon’s skin, a duel between lucifer’s magic and mammon’s, the woven fibers ultimately preventing the second-born’s escape. he’s writhing around against his bonds and letting out muffled curses as you enter the room.
when mammon spots you, he ceases to struggle altogether, body sagging and golden irises wide as grimm. you scramble to preserve some modicum of dignity, falling to your knees, hands flailing to protect your chest. flames engulf your skin and tears sting at your eyes. neither of you register the sound of lucifer closing the bedroom door and the lock clicking into place.
against your better judgment, you address the demon who orchestrated this twisted rendezvous.
“lucifer? what’s going on?” you wince at the words that leave your trembling lips—unusually high-pitched and squeaky like a dog toy. your humiliation intensifies.
“did you hear something, mammon?” lucifer addresses his younger brother casually, icy voice haughty. “it sounded like…yapping.”
mammon doesn’t react to lucifer’s question, still staring at you.
“you’ve been here for a while, and still have quite some time left, so i thought i would be a good big brother and bring you a little distraction to pass the time,” lucifer explains, stroking your hair. his touch would feel absentminded if you didn’t know him so well. “isn’t that right, little one?”
your neck snaps up to look at lucifer. his heavy hand still rests atop your head and his menacing grin reveals knife-edged incisors. you tremble beneath him: easy prey.
“you and mammon got into trouble together, darling; now you shall endure your punishments together.”
lucifer’s palm curves to fist your hair and tug you forward. in an attempt to avoid being dragged, you haphazardly crawl beside him, fingernails scraping against the floor. he stops you only a few feet from where mammon swings from the rafters.
“what do you think of my pet, mammon?” lucifer taunts. each word is an alluring barb dripping with poison. you watch the white-haired demon; his adam’s apple bobs in response to his brother’s question.
lucifer switches his attention to you, kneeling down to your height, thumbing at your plush bottom lip. “how would you like to give my dear brother a little show?” he asks. your body reacts before your brain can and you nod. his lips tug into a smirk. “i knew you would.”
your stomach turns as lucifer stands up and unbuckles his belt. his voice is low as he orders, “on your knees.” hot tears are already blurring your vision as you wobble into position.
lucifer pulls his cock out of his trousers, flushed and oozing precum. “tongue out.”
you do as he says, pink muscle lolling out of your mouth, salivating in anticipation. lucifer smacks his heavy tip onto your extended tongue and you stay still, awaiting his next order. under your fluttering lashes your wet gaze is glued to his; he beams.
“good pet.”
you are too rapt to notice your audience’s stifled groans and the prominent bulge in his jeans.
511 notes · View notes
oinkoink321 · 9 months
Text
Miles, Gwen, Hobie, Pav, and  Miguel with a cheerleader!Reader. 
—————-
Guys, I cannot stress enough how amazing cheerleading is. Like say what you want whether it’s a sport or not but have you seen those routines?!?!? Literally inhumane!!!! And as a cheerleader I want (need) to see more fics about this 😭
This is an “x reader” Reader is a Flyer/top girl (the person that gets thrown/put up in the air in stunts). Reader will  not be a spider person in this fic (sorry guys). Reader is implied to be on the quieter side or not “look” like a cheerleader(on Hobie’s part). Anyways, if there’s anything I can improve or change please let me know! enjoy! 
Warnings: none but the characters might be ooc
————————
Miles Morales 
He literally sits through your routine in shock. He’s so caught off guard. Cheerleaders do things like this?!?!
Idk if he had cheerleaders in his school or not but idk if he would really pay attention to them at all. However, when he found out  you’re a cheerleader, he’s like “oh ok”.
Then one day you invite him to watch you perform, he gladly goes to support you but he’s not really sure what to expect. Then when he sees you doing all that tumbling or having enough courage to be tossed in the air like that, he’s in awe. 
He could barely even jump off a small building with spider powers and yet here you are, staying tight and sharp enough to hit all your motions and yell loud. 
He’s just so…..mind blown. His eyes are all on you, his mouth open at all the tumbling and shining you do. Gosh, he’s so taken aback. 
After the routine he’s walking up to you, a bit shy. He’s like “You did amazing! I can’t believe cheerleaders actually do all that! You were awesome flying in the air like that and blah blah blah”. He’d definitely be drawing you in your cheer uniform and doing your skills. He’s the sweetest <333
————————
Gwen Stacy 
Since she used to do ballet, I think she might know a bit about cheer. Anyways, when she’s watching you perform, she’s in a daze. 
Since you’re not a spider person, she’s quite impressed with all the skills you can pull off. Especially the tumbling, you need incredible strength in order to tumble as fluidly as you do 
Her eyes are literally sparkling watching you. Her eyes are glued to you, your teammates and your performance. She has a soft smile on her face the entire time. She enjoys watching you so much! 
I bet she silently prays that you don’t fall or injure yourself when you’re flying or when you tumble. She knows how dangerous those can be so she can’t help but feel a bit nervous everytime she sees you do those skills 
Nevertheless, she loves watching them either way! She lets out a little sigh of relief when you’re done doing the performance and you’re completely fine.
She walks up to you and gives you a big hug. She whispers in your ear “You did so good”. She’s sooo proud of you after the performance. Also, I think she would stretch with you or work out with you when you exercise for cheer. Anyways I love her so much<3333 
————————
Hobie Brown 
I feel like he’s pretty chill about you being a cheerleader, but he is a bit surprised. You? A cheerleader? The thought would never cross his mind. 
But when he sees you doing flips and being tossed? He’s on the edge of his seat. Then, he hears you yell out the words of your cheer. Your voice is powerful and your team hypes up the audience. 
He feels proud of you, who’s usually shy and quiet, being confident and getting a crowd to yell your school colors and name. 
He’s mesmerized by your boldness on the mat. If you’re speaking quietly he’d probably tell you to “use your cheer voice.” 
Anyways, he also looovvvesss seeing your dance and thinks you’re incredible. You’re so swift and sharp with your movements. He likes how each motion hits on the exact beat. 
After the performance, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, complimenting you. He’d be cool and level-headed around people but when you guys are alone, he’s all over you. He’d say how cute you look on your cheer uniform and say how amazing you were 
Also, he’s like your biggest supporter. You need help for fundraisers? He’s going to raves selling the items to people. You need help with skills for stunts? He’s willing to learn how to base so he can one-man you. Anyways he’s the best and I love him as well. (Let’s be fr I’m in love with all of them lol) 
————————
Pavitr Prabhakar
OMGGG WHAT A CUTIE HE IS!!!! He’s going to every single game and performance he can just to watch you! He’s cheer you on and hyping you up! 
He’s so sweet and would yell the words with you and your team. He definitely know all the words and I can imagine him learning the dance with you. He’d also get you to teach him the cheers so he can fully support you <3 
He’s also so entranced when you’re going up in the air being thrown, or just being up there in general. He loved watching you fly, it’s like you’re floating. AND when you’re tumbling he’s literally screaming your name. 
In cheer routines, when they do their jumps, people/the team would scream “hit! Hit!” every single jump. You know for sure he’ll be yelling at you to hit you jumps on beat. 
When you guys have your “ending picture” he’s basically out of his seat. He’s pointing you out to everyone, going “Look! Look at them! I’m their boyfriend!” 
After the performance, he hugs you and spins you around, telling you how proud he is. He’s such a sweet heart and he rambles to you about all the awesome skills you did and begs you to teach them to him. Truth be told, he’s YOUR cheerleader. 
————————
Miguel O’Hara 
Honestly…..he probably doesn’t care at first. I mean he does, he just kinda looks over it (in the beginning). But when you invite him to a performance, he’s like “okay, I have nothing better to do anyway” 
But when he sees you on that mat, yelling your team name, spelling it out, doing flips and being thrown, his eyes literally light up. He’s fascinated. He feels a bit guilty that he brushed it off to you at first. 
After that, he wants to go to more of your games and performances. He tells you he can record performances for you. He watches them over and over. He always pays attention to you in the video. 
He’d try to help you “point out” your mistakes, of course he doesn’t know much about cheer but he’s willing to learn. He’ll  watch videos about it and send you stretches to do if you were telling him about needing help with a skill. 
Going off of that, if you ever get injured he’ll help with treatment. Of course, you actually should go to a doctor but he will buy athletic tape and ice packs for you. He’d reluctantly massage your sore muscles lol (he loves doing that tho) 
Anyways, after competitions or performances, he’ll treat you to a restaurant or fast food. Or if you’re coming home late from practice he’ll make/order your favorite food. He’s always making sure you’re okay and not overworking yourself (same goes to everyone else) 
377 notes · View notes
worldofheroes · 10 months
Text
Finally Some Privacy
tom cruise x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, language, broken bone(s), age gap relationship (28yrs), secret relationship, p in v sex, daddy kink, smut with no plot
summary: after a stunt gone wrong, filming is put on pause. you fly back to LA with tom to spend some alone time together.
wc: 1.9k
a/n: whoops kinda fell for tom. I do not support Scientology.
Tumblr media
You hated when Tom had big stunts. The stunt you’re filming today is mild compared to some of his others, but they all carried risk of injury.
You flinched as Tom hurled himself off one building and towards the other. The whole stunt was him almost missing the jump but grabbing the edge.
When he hit, something seemed off. You felt it in your gut. It was only a second, but you knew.
When Tom stood up, he ran - or rather limped - off camera.
“Okay, cut. We’re done,” Tom says.
“Done?” the director asks.
“Yeah, I just broke my ankle,” Tom says, leaning on his knees.
“What?!”
“Can someone just take me to the hospital, please?” Tom asks, slightly annoyed.
“Alright, alright, wrap it up!” the director yells.
You watch as the on set medics go to Tom and help him to a chair.
Tom glances over to you and nods. You know that means to continue your work and the two of you will meet up later.
A few hours later, you’re wrapped and released from the set. You check your phone and you have a message from Tom.
Did a real number on my ankle. Need surgery but I’ll be fine. You can come visit, say you’re with the crew and need to check on me.
You make your way to the hospital.
“How can I help you?” a nurse asks you from the desk.
“Hi, I’m looking for Tom Cruise, I’m with the film crew, I was sent to check on him,” you say.
“Of course, right this way,” she says, walking out from behind the desk and down the hallway.
“Mr. Cruise, you have a visitor, may they come in?” the nurse asks from the doorway.
“Yes, of course,” you hear him say.
The nurse motions for you to walk in the room, and she closes the door behind her.
“Hey,” Tom says softly, with a smile.
“Hi,” you say, pulling a chair up beside the bed. “I would say you’re stupid but this was just unlucky.”
Tom chuckles. “One of the least risky stunts and I do this,” he says, motioning to his leg.
“But you’re alive.”
“Yeah.”
You take his hand and give it a kiss.
“At least we’ll have a lot of time to spend together without running behind people’s backs,” Tom smiles at you.
You press your lips together. You’ve had a secret relationship with Tom for three months now, and you’ve expressed how you don’t like it being secret but understand why it has to be.
“When I get out of here we’ll fly back to LA on the private jet. A few other crew guys will be there so it won’t be suspicious. Then it’ll be just us,” Tom continues. “It’s gonna work out.”
“I know, I know,” you say, not making eye contact.
“Sweetheart,” Tom says gently, “look at me. Please.”
You take a deep breath to find the courage to look at him. You finally look up and into his green eyes.
“I love you,” Tom says.
“Don’t say that,” you whisper.
“Y/n.”
“I… I don’t know how to feel about this. It’s nearly a 30 year difference, Tom.”
Tom nods. “I know. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”
You press your lips together again. “Let’s just get back to LA.”
“Okay, sweetheart.”
You pause, then lean over and give Tom a kiss. Tom caresses your head and gives you a smile.
There’s a knock on the door and you scramble for your chair. Tom chuckles softly and you shoot him a look, but can’t help but smile too.
A nurse comes in. “Hi there, I’m here to go over the discharge papers.”
About an hour later, you’re helping Tom out of the hospital. Soon, you, Tom, and a few crew members are on the plane headed to New York, then LA.
You cannot wait to get off the plane when you finally land in LA. As you walk onto the tarmac, Tom approaches you.
“Y/n, I’ve arranged a car to take you home,” Tom tells you.
“Thank you,” you reply with a smile. “I appreciate it.”
“I like to take care of my crew,” Tom smiles. He opens the car door for you, and you get in.
When the door closes, the driver addresses you. “Hello Miss y/l/n. You’re headed to Mr. Cruise’s residence, is that correct?”
“Yes, thank you,” you reply.
It’s a quiet ride to Tom’s house. When you pull into the driveway, Tom is already there. He helps you out of the car.
“Hey,” he says, leaning in and kissing you.
“Tom,” you scold.
“Y/n, I trust these people with my life, they won’t say a word.”
“Okay. I trust you,” you tell him. “This place is huge.”
Tom laughs. “It gets pretty lonely.”
You roll your eyes. “Are you trying to say something?”
“Just that I can’t wait to spend some alone time with you.”
You and Tom spend most of the day watching TV, cuddling on the couch. You drift in and out of sleep throughout the day.
“Hey,” Tom whispers in your ear. “You want to move to the bed? Might be a little more comfortable.”
You yawn. “I guess, yeah.”
“If I didn’t have a broken ankle, I’d carry you there,” Tom laughs.
You laugh too. “Are you going to make it, resting for four to six weeks?”
“Probably not. I’ll probably start walking on it too soon and probably mess it up more.”
“Uh huh,” you say, moving to face him and straddling his lap. “You can’t put the movie off forever.”
“Stop being a distraction, then,” Tom says, moving his hands down your back and onto your ass.
“You’re the older one here, you should be the logical one.”
“I don’t have to be logical for the next couple months.” Tom leans in and kisses you.
You run your hands through his hair.
“You’re really pretty,” Tom mumbles on your lips.
You smile against his lips for a moment before you push the kiss deeper, and Tom responds instantly. His tongue dips into your mouth, his hands are all over your body, and you tug on his hair. A moan escapes from him, making you giggle.
“That’s not nice,” Tom mutters.
“What?” you ask innocently.
“You’re going to do that, are you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, now you’ve done it. Get to the bedroom, now.”
“I’ve never been here, I don’t know where it is,” you say against his lips as you kiss him again.
“Up,” Tom practically orders.
“Yes sir,” you say, getting off his lap.
He gently shoves you towards one of the hallways. “Walk,” he mumbles into your ear, sending a chill down your spine.
The two of you finally make it to the bedroom. Tom closes the door with a loud thud and turns his attention back on you.
“Are you really going to try to dominate me with a broken ankle?” You’re practically asking for it now. He knows it, and he’s enjoying it as much as you are.
He walks towards you. “I like this side of you,” he says. “But I’ve let you get away with too much these last few months.”
“Oh, is Daddy upset?”
“Fuck you,” Tom growls.
You bite your lip, trying not to laugh.
Tom walks you backward towards the bed, and you fall on it.
“You really shouldn’t be doing this with a broken ankle,” you tell him.
“Fuck my ankle, alright?” Tom says, pushing his crotch against you. His cock is already hard, and you gasp.
“Tom,” you mutter.
“Sex is more important than my ankle right now,” he whispers in your ear.
He pulls your shirt off, and you work on the buttons of his shirt. Tom leans down and kisses you. You finally get his shirt off, and your hands wander his torso.
Tom kisses his way down your body, and works on getting your shorts off.
“Tom,” you mutter again.
“I got you,” he whispers into your thigh, taking your shorts off in one swift movement.
His hand gently brushes over your core and your hips buck.
“Easy, baby girl,” he says.
“Don’t tease,” you reply.
“Oh you can tease but I can’t?” Tom locks eyes with you.
“Just fuck me already,” you tell him.
“I’ll fuck you when I want,” Tom growls, pulling your panties off. He drops his pants to the floor.
“Please, Daddy,” you beg.
Tom gives you a smirk as he pulls his boxers down.
“Shit,” you groan.
Tom climbs on top of you. “Is this okay?”
“What?” you ask, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.
“I want to make sure you are okay with sex,” he says gently.
You nod.
“I want a verbal confirmation, baby girl.”
“Yes.”
Tom smiles at you and leans down to give you a quick kiss. He reaches over to you and fumbles in the nightstand drawer.
You see a square wrapper, and Tom rips it open.
“Okay baby girl, time to teach you a lesson,” Tom growls as he puts the condom on.
“Tell me how bad I've been,” you encourage.
Tom places his tip at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. You gasp at his hardness entering you.
“So fucking tight,” Tom mutters, watching himself push into you. “So tight, just for me.”
You nod, unable to speak as he starts to thrust in and out.
“Are you going to be a good girl now, for Daddy?” Tom leans down and whispers in your ear, getting more aggressive with his thrusts.
“Yes!” You exclaim as his cock hits you just right.
“Yes what?”
“Yes Daddy… I’ll be a good girl,” you gasp.
“Good,” Tom says, thrusting even harder. You didn’t think that was possible.
You feel yourself reaching your orgasm. “I’m gonna come,” you tell him.
“You need to wait.”
“I don’t think I can!”
“You’ll come when Daddy comes.”
“Please Daddy,” you moan.
“Wait.”
“I can’t, Daddy, please,” you plead with Tom.
Tom grunts. “Okay baby girl, come for Daddy,” he says, voice faltering a bit.
He thrusts two more times and you come undone around his cock.
“Oh, Daddy!” you yell.
“That’s it,” he mumbles into your neck. “Fuck.” Tom finishes in the condom.
You finish your orgasm and you’re panting, trying to catch your breath.
Tom stays in you for a moment, his eyes closed and tries to catch his breath. His cock twitches in you, which makes you buck just a little.
Tom opens his eyes and chuckles. “Still feels good, huh?”
“Fuck yes,” you say, rubbing against him.
Tom smiles at you as he pulls out and discards the used condom. He lays down beside you and pulls you close.
“Damn that was good,” Tom says, kissing your hair.
“Mm hmm,” you agree with him, snuggling close to his naked body.
Tom reaches for a blanket and pulls it over the two of you.
“How’s your ankle?” you ask Tom.
“Probably royally fucked now. Recovery is likely going to take longer,” Tom says.
“Mm.”
“But that puts off the movie longer and gives us more time to fuck,” Tom whispers.
“You’ll never finish the movie.”
“As long as I can finish in you, it doesn’t matter.”
“Thomas!” you scold, laughing.
Tom laughs with you.
“I know I freaked out last time, but I love you,” you tell him, looking up at him.
Tom smiles softly. “I love you too, baby girl.” He leans down and kisses you.
The two of you spend the rest of the day in bed, in each other’s arms.
507 notes · View notes
mshroom1e · 1 year
Text
ೃ⁀➷ Trust Fall
Tumblr media
type: headcanons
how the twst characters would react to the reader suddenly trying a trust fall on them
1.4k words
Characters: NRC Students
Tumblr media
╰┈➤ Riddle
He'd be so caught off guard, he just freezes.
Prolly shreiks too.
You fall on the floor right away.
You get an "off with your head!"
He's just embarrassed and ends up feeling bad for letting you fall.
From then on, he refuses to walk behind you so you don't pull the same stunt again.
╰┈➤ Ace
He let's you fall.
But on purpose.
You fall flat on your back and he just laughs at you.
He helps you up though.
He's still laughing.
╰┈➤ Deuce
Panicks but manages to catch you somehow.
He thought you fell backwards by accident.
Stop you almost gave him a heart attack.
He asks if you're okay afterwards, and you tell him it was just a trust fall, and he's like "oh".
╰┈➤ Trey
He knows what you're up to.
Figures it's one of your usual antics and catches you with a fond chuckle.
Warns you not to try the same thing with Riddle though.
He can't help but to tell you to be careful so you don't get hurt if the person fails to catch you.
He's happy that you trust him enough to try a trust fall, though.
╰┈➤ Cater
He's actually quite quick to catch you.
Like Trey, he knows it's a trust fall.
He laughs and asks you to redo it but this time let him pull out his phone and record you do it.
Posts it under #friendshipgoals
(pls idk how to write this young man)
╰┈➤ Leona
He's like "dafuq" and sidesteps you.
Watches you fall.
It's not out of malicious intent. He just cannot be bothered to use any energy to catch you.
Looks at you on the ground, laughs to himself and walks away.
Calls you an airhead.
Congratulations, you played yourself.
╰┈➤ Ruggie
He's got swift reflexes, so he's another quick one to carry you.
Pay up, since he just saved your life.
You explain it was a trust fall but the cost still stands.
You pull out some madol from your pocket and hand it over to him while grumbling the entire time.
There goes your money for the next month that you managed to scrape together with blood, sweat, and tears. (no thanks to the silly bird man)
He smiles and does his little silly laugh when he gets the money off you, so maybe it was worth it.
╰┈➤ Jack
Goes to catch you but ends up fully lifting you off the ground instead.
He's ended up holding you up like Rafiki and Simba
Like Deuce, he thought you fell over and is hoping you're okay.
He's so nice 💔
You tell him it's a trust fall and he furrows his eyebrows.
Kinda feels embarrassed that he fully lifted you up now.
Awkwardly and silently puts you back on the ground with a straight face.
╰┈➤ Azul
He screams and jumps back
Jk
Or am I?
Jokes aside, he's got really good arm strength, so even if he's late to catch you, he still manages to hold you up.
He's so shook his glasses almost fall off and his face is going red from confusion.
Pretty quick to recover and uses it as a business opportunity.
He saved you from falling, so now give him your dorm building.
Theres no friends in the world of business
Sigma grindset haver /j
Mainly uses the businessman front as a cover.
He's still shook but trying to play it off.
Yk how he tries to appear smarter in front of teachers? Well, he's doing the exact same thing but tryna appear calm in front of you.
╰┈➤ Jade
He catches you pretty solid
You hear an ominous "fufufu..." from behind you.
Is disspointed you didn't pass out since now he can't use you as mushroom fertiliser /j
He flashes his usual butler style smile and stands you back on your feet.
Sorry but Jade always seems to be plotting something so I suggest you escape now.
He's already figured it was a trust fall, so no need to explain.
╰┈➤ Floyd
lmao
His reaction depends on his mood ig
If he's default Floyd, he fully picks you up and the next thing you know, you're trapped in a warm but gut crushing squeeze.
Picks you up simba style pt. 2 but it's intentional.
Pls tell me someone else also thinks his hugs would be comfortable.
He laughs with you coz ur so silly.
Puts you on the ground after a bit and ruffles your hair if you're shorter than him (he does that daily and you can't convince me otherwise)
You end up laughing too.
Watch out though, since he might pull the same stunt on you when you least expect it.
Start doing some arm workouts coz he's gonna be a hefty number to lift.
╰┈➤ Kalim
His carpet catches you.
You happen to be in his dorm and its nearby.
His younger siblings do stuff like trust falls all the time so he isn't surprised.
He's also happy you trust him enough to try one with him.
He smiles so brightly it hurts to look at.
After all, it hurts to look at the sun when it's shining.
╰┈➤ Jamil
Is so sick of your bs
Contemplates letting you fall, but he isn't feeling that mean today, so he guesses he can catch you.
Ends up catching you, but it's definitely not willingly.
Don't try it with him again coz next time, you're falling.
╰┈➤ Vil
bombastic side eye
criminal offensive side eye
He gives you the most judgemental, critical look that you even forget why you approached him in the first place.
Bro didn't even give you a chance to test out the fall on him.
Like that one auntie that silently judges you for existing.
He is not wrinkling his perfectly ironed clothes.
You do the walk of shame as you retreat.
Defeat.
╰┈➤ Rook
Man's already caught your before you start to fall.
He chuckles with his usual smile.
"Tres bien, Trickster!"
You tried to catch him off guard (an impossible task), but you're the one who got shocked instead.
╰┈➤ Epel
A quick, confused noise slips out as he catches you.
You almost hit the ground but he tried his best.
Tell him it's a trust fall and you left him so lost he needs the map.
Since there aren't many kids in the place he's from, he'd never heard of a trust fall until now.
He's glad you trust him, though, and has a small smile on his face for the rest of the day.
╰┈➤ Idia
He isn't even there.
You fall with nothing but thin air behind you.
sorry
╰┈➤ Ortho
He catches you right away and it's startling how strong he is.
You knew he'd be pretty strong, but you're still surprised a little.
He also thought you fell by accident but he's happy when you tell him it wad a trust fall.
Watch out though, since there's a close to 40% chance you'll fall on the floor if you tried it on somsone else.
He's just hoping you don't get hurt.
He's such a sweet little gummy worm <3
╰┈➤ Malleus
He instantly catches you with magic.
Genuinely thought you lost your balance.
Well done, now he's walking behind you for the next week to make sure you don't fall and hurt yourself.
You tell him it's a trust fall and he's so lost he needs the map 2.0
But he's intrigued
You're quite strange, Child of Man.
You explain its only done with people you trust (usually) and he's smiling for the rest of the day.
There's no storm clouds for the next week.
You've singlehandedly made his day.
╰┈➤ Lilia
Watches you with a knowing smile.
He knows what you're doing.
Still catches you anyway while chuckling.
Says something about how funny kids are these days and leaves to go do Lilia stuff. (idk I haven't read book 7 yet lmao)
╰┈➤ Silver
You're the one catching him.
He fell asleep mid conversation and now you're left to drag him over to a nearby bench so he can rest comfortably.
bro is majestic
Watching him sleep so peacefully makes you sleepy too and you end up falling asleep as well.
Your trust fall plan ended in a joint napping session.
Idk about you but that sounds like a win to me.
╰┈➤ Sebek
He catches you.
Thinks it would be a disgrace to his training if he didn't.
You tell him it's a trust fall and he gets all smug.
"Ha! You think I can be caught of guard by the ambush of a mere human??" He says but on the inside he's happy you trust him.
Won't say it out loud though so you're left with him talking your ear off about how humans are too reckless.
That's his way of telling you to be more careful next time.
He just didn't want you to get hurt either.
After all, he does care (I hope)
◁--《
Tumblr media
667 notes · View notes
thebardisabird · 8 months
Note
this is the first request ive ever made, but how would the boys react to a classic Bimbo reader? with classic blonde hair, pink clothes, expensive bags and nails, stuff like that😭 this may be a bit strange so dont answer if you dont wanna, i was just curious. thank you so much lmao 😭
We know her, we love her, she’s that girl!
So Osomatsu immediately goes gaga for you. I’m talking heart eyes, drooling, unable to think coherent thoughts kind of enamored. From your pretty long eyelashes, to your super short mini skirt to pink boot heels - he can’t seems to pick a spot where he wants to look! Every single inch of you sings sex appeal and he’s listening very intently. He knows he definitely cannot afford you tho - so he might pull off the same stunt he did for Chibimi and just about sell his soul to get a date with you. (Honestly when I think of all the characteristics you describe matched with Oso I think of @girlymatsu ‘s oc Erina-chan who is super cute and fun, please check them out, you can tell they put a lot of love in their art and you'll absolutely love their oc)
Karamatsu sees your fashion sense and instantly wants to be the Ken to your Barbie. You have this it girl factor that draws him in and with the sway of your hips and the wink of your pink, glittery shadowed eye, he’s completely under your spell. If you so choose to give him the time of day, he pays you compliment after compliment, and will take you out on a date to get coffee or a nice meal depending on what you’d like. If we’re talking about a classic bimbo trope where you’re a little on the less well-read side, then he might find it cute that you don’t really know how to pronounce some of the words of the meals or coffee drinks and he’ll try to use the opportunity to teach you some fancy words. You actually find his poses and flowery speech kinda funny, because he sounds like a poem out loud.
Choromatsu has no idea how you're even talking to him right now. He's seen you plenty of times and never ever imagined you would even say two words to him other than like... "Excuse me" if he was standing in your way. You are so far removed from all the things that encompass his life. Yet when you tell him that his favorite has super cute outfits and that you were thinking about becoming one yourself because you love the idea of all the glitz and glamour it brings, he short-circuits. You're already so gorgeous, to think of you being in cutesy outfits and dancing around? And he's allowed to talk to you? Associate with you??? The man is ready to die happy. But not as happy as when you dress up in his favorite idol's outfit - only it looks ten times better on you because your bigger chest and ass. While you don't exactly understand his love for anime, manga, and other more nerdy things, you humor him because he's just so cute when his little froggy face lights up the way it does!
Ichimatsu is intimidated entirely by you and will actively go out of his way to avoid you. You are like a beacon of light far too bright and undeserving for him to ever even get close to. Luckily for him, you notice one day that he's looking into the window of a cat cafe and you finally tap him on his shoulder and ask about whether he likes cats or not. It takes about everything he has not to throw up on the spot, but he is seriously questioning his life and whether or not some god above is about to smite him. You try to explain to him that you actually really love kitties as you point to your kitten paw choker and show him your baby pink matching kitten paw nails. At some point he realizes that you're not fucking with him and he slides out of fight or flight mode and into general nervousness. It takes a while before you can actually get him to speak (you're literally such a bombshell against his disheveled-ness, he feels very grateful that he's conscious enough to give you short answers instead of fainting like his body wants him to), but you eventually give him your number. When you part ways, then he slumps to the ground, but with the tiniest of smiles on his face.
Jyushimatsu actually makes you nervous. It's very clear that you're super attractive and bubbly, but there is a genuine sweetness to him that makes him stick out from all the other meatheads who try to normally get your attention. The yellow clad matsu isn't very subtle about staring at you and your appearance, but you honestly don't mind it when he says things like "Your hair reminds me of the sun!" or "You look like a pretty pink cloud today, haha!" The guy is just so adorable it makes you giggle. And when he smiles right back (even bigger than his usual grin), it makes you blush a bit. You end up leaving lipgloss on his cheeks all the time because you just find him so cute.
Todomatsu can't get enough of you once he gets to know you! You two feed off of each other's cutesy personalities. And since pink is both of your signature colors, you guys end up matching outfits a lot. Though the price to pay with you two being so matchy-matchy is that everyone else literally cannot stand being around you two lol. But that's fine to either of you because you both just chalk it up to them being rude and jealous and you pay it no mind...it's either that dynamic orrrrr you end up hating each others guts because only one of you can be the cutest in Akatsuka. Though that scenario ends up in an enemies to lovers situation because even though Todomatsu says he can't stand you - he definitely admits to himself (and only to himself at first) that you are positively gorgeous and the only person worthy of being at his level of pretty in pink.
147 notes · View notes
jhkfan123 · 2 months
Text
enchanted- tom blyth | ch. 9
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
✦ix.
A/N: this chapter is so me when-
2nd A/N: guys i KNOW the oscars aren't directly after the golden globes but pls ignore its for the plot. 😁
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
you felt like throwing stuff. just throwing everything in sight. the two of them cannot tell you everything is fine, and then pull a stunt like that. not only did it confuse you, it only fueled the fire of the relationship rumors even more. at this point, you were considering deleting social media altogether. you did not want to deal with it. at this point it made every day worse. it sucked you in like a vacuum, and you couldn't escape what you didn't want to see. no matter how many times you clicked "not interested" on a post, it would not help the amount of rachel and tom content you saw. it wasn't healthy. 
you had the impulse to archive all of your social media posts and just take a break. maybe it would help. help you get away from all the things you didn't want to see. you reminisced on your actors on actors with jenna ortega. everything the two of you had said. maybe it was a good idea. you were feeling impulsive anyways. 
just to be petty, the only posts you archived were the ones that were hunger games related. at least, for now.  why not be petty? they seemed to have lied to you, anyways. 
you felt they were treating you like a child. like you couldn't handle the truth. yes, it would be hard to hear, but it's not like you wouldn't understand. you weren't a little kid. you were an adult. a petty adult? yes. but an adult nonetheless. you wouldn't have been so angry if they hadn't lied. if they had said it to your face, you wouldn't be reacting like this. but you just felt anger. 
you felt like you wanted to break something. break something like he broke your heart. you weren't going to slash his tires or anything, nothing to him. just something to destress. but there was nothing in your house that you could. so you just decided to scream into your pillow. easy solution. then, you continued to archive your posts. every single one that included tom. it was fun. so much fun. you felt a little immature, but it was definitely making you feel better. then you went through you instagram highlights. took them all down. you changed your profile picture, which was originally a picture of you, rachel, josh, tom and hunter, to a solitary picture of you. it felt so good. you knew your social media team would be mad, but who cared. 
then you cried. the situation was giving you major mood swings. angry, sad, angry, sad, really angry, sad. this went on for hours. you rotted in bed. you called your best friend and cried to her for about an hour. you just listened to olivia rodrigo. she seemed to have songs that fit every situation. you listened to get him back! and lacy on repeat. 
then making the bed came on. and then you realized. in 2024, you should not be rotting over a possible dating situation. you should not be crying for hours over a situation that you can easily question. you are the only one who is making you feel like this. you were doing this to yourself. this could easily be solved by talking to them, and even better, you had your final red carpet event of the season, where both of them would be in attendance. this event just so happened to be the oscars. it was very exciting, and even though none of you had been nominated, just going would be an amazing experience.  you had to deal with the truth, and that was, if they are together, there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. you could not go back in time and do something differently. and if they weren't together, great. 
you had to stop being immature, and start being rational. you had to prepare yourself. you glanced up at your door. your stylist had picked out a white dress. there was no way. you scavenged in your dress closet for anything better. 
...
after a lot of slow skincare, a shower, and digging through your closet, you eventually picked out a black, elegant, silky dress with a very high slit. you paired it with a layered pearl choker, and a black garter. the garter was visible, but not totally out there. you put on the highest black heels you owned, did you hair nicely, created your daily bracelet stack, and prepared to leave. you paired your outfit with a black clutch, and made your way out the door. you knew people would be dressed in gowns, and other elegant things, and your dress might now be as big and showy, but you had a point to make. again, it was based on princess diana's revenge dress. you really admired her, and this look made you feel empowered.
when you arrived on the red carpet, you walked with confidence. you had been on a lot of red carpets these past few weeks, so you had developed a strategy. get on, say hi to a few fans, strike a few poses, more fans, and then walk in. so that's what you did. stepping out of the car, there was an immediate reaction to your outfit. it was a mix of shock and surprised gasps, along with cheering. you went over to the crowd and began to say hi to a few people. you took a photo with one young fan who was so adorable. then, you did two short interviews. next it was time to pose. you were going to make sure there were lots of photos. on your way to the carpet, you caught sight of tom. he was maybe 25 feet away from you, posing on a different background. 
However, you accidently made eye contact with him. he looked at you, glanced down at your outfit, then up to your face once more, then down to your outfit, then up to your face. he couldn't seem to get enough of you. he seemed to be shocked at your outfit, which is what you were going for. you didn't know wether to smile at him, or to look away. 
you ended up doing a combination of both, which looked very odd. you had hoped no one caught that on camera. you saw him smile slightly, but then he turned away and posed again. you took the hint and went back to posing again. you had not found rachel yet, or any of your other castmates. still on the red carpet, a security guard gave you a fifteen minute warning to the top of the show. you decided maybe you should go find your seat. at the oscar's there was not as much of a guarantee you would be seated with the members of your movie as other events. the only guarantee was if you were nominated. 
you walked past the coat check, and over to the seating chart. the theater was huge, so finding your seat took a while. you sighed when you found that your seat was next to tom. and tom was next to rachel. on your other side, hunter schafer, and josh. you were glad to know you weren't seated in the middle of them again. you had hunter to talk to if things got weird. 
shuffling through people, you finally approached your seat. you gave hunter a tight hug, she was being so unproblematic in this whole situation, and you were here for it. you sat down in-between hunter and tom, and the second you sat down, your mind blank. you had no idea what to say to the boy next to you. do you ask him now? wait till the party? go outside? don't ask at all? that one was definitely out. you probably wouldn't be able to sleep until you asked. rachel was next to him, and while you smiled at her, you didn't say much. hunter complimented your outfit, and you returned the compliment. you noticed tom listening to the conversation between the two of you. you had a feeling he was going to butt in anytime now, but nothing yet. 
finally, you heard him take a breath, coincidentally at the same time the show started. you heard him say something, but loud music came on, and you couldn't make it out. 
"what?" you asked him to clarify, but he shook his head. well that was going to bug you. you focused on the show, still dying to know what he said. it stuck in your head the entire duration of the ceremony. 
...
the final award was given, and the lights came back on. it was a great show. you knew that you needed to talk to tom. you had to make sure you didn't lose him in the crowd. when everyone was making their way out, you made sure to not lose sight of him. he was walking in front of you, and also much faster. figured, he was much taller than you. 
when you finally caught sight of the exit of the building, you started calling his name. he heard you the second time. he stopped walking, and waited for you to catch up to him. you began walking again, this time with him. you made your way outside, finally, where there was fresh air. you took a deep breath, and pulled him off the driven path. 
"what, y/n?" he asked, seemingly ok with everything.
"tom, i need to talk to you. right now." 
77 notes · View notes
pandoa · 1 year
Text
"say you love me but make it sweeter"
Tumblr media
you tell rook you love him. in a language he doesn't quite understand.
~rook hunt x gender neutral reader~
warnings: slight cursing; reader speaks tagalog. as i’ve said before, my tagalog is a tad rusty, so if there are any fluent tagalog speakers out there who can check my grammar, i’d appreciate it very much!! i’m too embarrassed to ask my irl filipino friends lol
just something short i wrote that’s purely self indulgent; happy birthday to meEeeEEEeEe~
Tumblr media
“Mahal na mahal kita, Rook. Ikaw ang aking puso at aking buhay. Ang ilaw sa pinaka madilim ng gabi ko. Hindi ko kayang mabuhay nang wala ka, aking sinta.”
“(Y/n),” Rook’s voice rang throughout the golden-accented room of the Pomefiore huntsman. “What did you just say?”
You gave your eccentric boyfriend a knowing smile that reached the corners of your eyes in mischief, “Not telling~”
“Ah! You wound me, mon ange!” The shining blonde cried as he clasped his heart, feigning agony at your pixieish stunts. “How can one live in mystery after their beloved has spoken such lyrical words?” Rook, playing along with your indifference, sighed as his mind ran miles—pondering the meaning behind your native language. There was something so warm about each poetically bewitching thing you said. He could feel the sincerity and passion within your unknown words and was determined to pull the hidden meaning out of your wonderous mumbling. The man was curious, could you blame him?
“Well, continue to suffer because I’m still not telling you what I just said,” you laughed, beaming at the hunter.
The young man glanced at you anticipatingly, “Tell me what it means.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“What if I knelt down on one knee right this instant, reached out for your hand, and declared my love just for you?”
You paused for a moment, contemplating his tempting offer, “...Never.”
“Trickster, I beg of you!”
“Oh, Rook—I already said no,” you said, giving him a sympathetic grim—almost pitying Rook’s desperation. “It’s more fun this way; like a small little secret only I know out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland~”
Rook, giving you a subtle pout, then promptly placed a gentle grasp onto your unknowing shoulders as you both sat atop the cotton covers of the vice housewarden’s mattress. “Mon tresor, if you refuse to tell me what it means, then please at least say it again. I wish to engrave your lovesome, enchanting voice into my mind.”
You looked his way again, baffled at his surprising request. “But… You knew nothing of what I had just said? Why would you want to hear it again?”
“Because your voice alone is so beautifully ethereal,” he replied with a certain tenderness gracing his tone, “however when partnered with the harmonious words of your home’s language, I cannot help but adore each syllable that comes from your angelic self.”
“I could have easily just insulted you and called you a bitch, you know,” you jokingly commented.
“Even that is beautiful in itself, mon amour.”
“...”
“You're hopeless, Rook.”
“Aha!” The man you called your lover laughed at your amusing reactions. “But you love me just the same, do you not~?”
You stared at the blonde—deadpanned—before sitting up and making your way out of the Pomefiore dorm room, away from the said third-year. “No comment.”
“Ah—Trickster! Wait!"
✧ ・゚ : ˚ · . ✧ ・゚: ✧.* .ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐ ✧.* ✧ ・゚ : ˚ · . ✧ ・゚:
“I love you very much, Rook. You are my heart and my life. The light of my darkest night. I cannot live without you, my dear.”
✧ ・゚ : ˚ · . ✧ ・゚: ✧.* .ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐ ✧.* ✧ ・゚ : ˚ · . ✧ ・゚:
Tumblr media
a/n: IKAWWWW LAMANGGGG ANG TANGI KOOONG MINAMAHAL~ ANG LAGI KONGGGG DINARASAL~~~ also yes that last quote is a translation of what reader said- i'm cringing lmao
551 notes · View notes
Text
Tout
Pierre Gasly x Reader
Summary: Pierre needs help writing a love letter.
Warnings: Language, little bit of drinking mention.
Word Count: 2402
Authors note: I am so sorry this took so long, there has been so much going on my side. I hope it is okay and I can’t wait to hear what you all think 
_____
“Open up!” Charles knew Pierre was hiding behind the hotel door, but he wasn’t letting his friend miss out on another night of drinks with the other drivers, “Come and get drinks with us mate!”
His knocking was incessant.
“I am busy Charles!” Pierre looked as frustrated as he sounded, pulling the door open so quickly that Charles was momentarily concerned it may come off its hinges, “no drinks tonight, not until I’m done.” Offering no further explanation as he retreated back into his room, closing the door behind him as he left.
Charles braced his hand against the closing door and followed Pierre in, gearing up to argue with him about having to take a break from work and try and convince his friend that this is what they all needed after the abysmal season so far, but instead he was stopped mid thought when he saw Pierre’s bed, littered with crumpled up papers, notepad abandoned amongst them and a very distressed looking Pierre sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.
“Mate, what’s going on?” it was only when Pierre briefly looked up to his friend that he noticed the very small sliver on a tear beginning to brim, “Shit, are you okay?” Charles stood awkwardly, unsure of what was happening, but sure that if it was enough to make Pierre cry it was bound to be awful.
“She’s going to leave me” Pierre hated saying it, but he knew this was exactly where it was headed.
“What do you mean she’s going to leave you?” you could absolutely not, by any means, leave Pierre. Charles knew how in love Pierre was with you, he was absolutely smitten, spoke about you like you were there goddess of love herself and he would be devasted if he lost you.
“We got into this massive fight before I left for the race and she basically just said she feels like I don’t actually love her because I never open up to her and she feels like she’s just there as some sort of entertainment for me,” Pierre paused, the entire fight replaying in his mind, “I made the woman I love with every ounce of my being, question if I actually did because I am so emotionally stunted I cannot open up and be vulnerable, God I am a dogshit boyfriend” Pierre felt sick at the thought of viewing you as nothing other than a little play thing for himself when in reality he would willing give up his soul in order to keep you if that’s what it took, “So I’m trying to write her a letter, to like, try and explain to her what she means to me, but I just, I’m not even sure the words have been invented yet for what I feel for her and I just, I’m clearly a fucking idiot”, Pierre was suddenly angry, now pacing up and down in front of Charles as he continued venting about his incapability to be a decent boyfriend, “why the fuck can I not just write a letter to the woman I plan on marrying telling her that I love her more than life itself?”
The look he was given Charles made him confused if it was a question he was actually meant to answer or if it was rhetorical.
“Okay, wait, why don’t you just tell her what you’ve literally been telling all of us since the moment you met her?” this was a no brainer to Charles, this is an issue that could be sorted out within 30 minutes, and they would be back down in the bar with their mates in no time.
“Because I look at her and my brain doesn’t work and I thought it was all going fine and she like, knew how I felt, you know?” Clearly Pierre was wrong about you knowing anything about how he felt about you.
“Well, how is she meant to know how you feel if you don’t tell her?” considering how Pierre looked like he was about to slaughter Charles, that was probably definitely the wrong thing to say, “Okay, so, letter, yes, writing a letter, how far have you gotten?”
Pierre wordlessly handed Charles the note pad and he began to read over what was already written.
“You think it’s awful” Pierre had been watching Charles read the poem, face grimacing every other line at the poorly worded letter.
“No, no, it’s good”.
It wasn’t.
“You hate it, which means she is going to hate it” Pierre was beginning to resign himself to a single man. He didn’t deserve someone like you if he couldn’t even be vulnerable and open with you about how he felt.
“I don’t hate it”
He hated it.
“You’re making a face!”
“What face?”
“That fucking face!” Pierre mimicked Charles face as he was reading the letter.
Charles was definitely making that face.
“I just think maybe we relook at parts of it?” Charles was already suggesting, coming up with significantly more eloquent ways of wording all of it.
“Yeah? What parts?” Pierre sounded hopeful for a moment, maybe he hadn’t completely ruined it all with you just yet.
“Like, maybe, like, all, all of it” Charles tried, he really tried but God, they were going to have to scrap this entire thing, start right from the beginning again, “I’m just going to call the boys, let them know what the plans are okay”
“I mean, don’t tell them all of it, just tell them we aren’t going to make it to drinks” Pierre was eternally thankful for the help his friend was offering him.
Charles was definitely telling them all of it.
_____
“This is what you were planning on giving her?” George was shocked, out of all of them, he definitely assumed Pierre was one who was able to be a little bit more poetic when it came to the woman he loves, but this was, this was not good at all.
“Listen, how honest do you want us to be?” Lando didn’t know how kind he was expected to be here, but my god, this was awful.
“Charles already made it clear that it wasn’t good, thanks mate” Pierre let out a groan, falling backwards on the bed as the other five drivers all stood scattered around the room.
“I mean, we can call it what it is, dogshit” Max only just dodged the punch to his arm that was sent by Charles in defence of his friend.
“And Y/n said she is going to leave you?” Carlos was trying to fully understand the entire situation, still unsure of what was going on.
“She didn’t say she was going to leave him” Charles tried to summarize what Pierre had explained to him over and over again as they waited for the others to join them upstairs.
“It was just heavily implied that she might not be at home when I got there” every single one of the boys’ eyes shifted to Pierre, the fear evident in his voice.
“You have to rewrite this” a seriousness overtook George, suddenly determined to make sure that Pierre did not mess this up.
“Yes, that’s pretty fucking evident George, but as we have established, I am pretty, what, horseshit-”
“Dogshit” Max immediately interrupted Pierre.
“Dogshit at it” Pierre nodded at Max, sarcastically thanking him for his correction.
“That’s why we are here to help” Charles was trying to boost morale over the entire situation.
“Who wouldn’t want a love letter written by a bunch of drunk men and someone who is emotionally constipated” Lando shot the group a thumbs up, although not a single ounce of sarcasm was laced in his voice, truly believing himself that this may potentially end up being the greatest love letter ever written.
Pierre sat staring at all his friends, a bewildered expression on his face, “She’s going to fucking leave me.”
“No, no, this is fine, we just,” George ripped out the page and tossed it in the bin as he made his way to the small desk that occupied the room, assigning himself the duty of scribe, convinced out of all of them his handwriting may be the only real legible one, “we start off slow”.
“Yes! Slow, simple!” Carlos was now standing, pacing the room as he thought, conjuring every ounce of his Spanish passion that he had been imbued with since birth, “My dearest- what do you call her?”
“Y/n?” Pierre wasn’t sure how to answer this question, but he quickly assumed he had answered incorrectly as a pillow was thrown in his direction and a chorus of ‘No’s” were flung at him simultaneously.
“You call the love of your life by her first name?” Charles now understood why Pierre was slowly losing hope of you staying with him.
“Oh, uhm, I call her tout” Pierre blushed at the admission, Charles having to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from smiling over how fucking cute that was.
“Okay, fuck, yeah, that’s cute, start the letter as tout only” Charles began curating the letter, already feeling good about where it was going.
“What does tout mean?” Lando asked what the others were thinking, also wanting to be let in on the whatever cuteness Charles was talking about.
“Everything” Pierre whispered.
“What the fuck, where did that come from?” Carlos was sure he couldn’t even have come up with something like that.
“Well, that’s what she is to me, the beginning and the end and every second in between, she is everything” Pierre shrugged, not aware of the power of what he just so casually said.
“Why do you need help writing this letter mate?” Lando spoke on behalf of everyone in the room, because, shit, if someone had said something like that about him, he would fucking melt.
“Because evidently he cannot write a decent paragraph that puts a sentence like that in it without somehow botching it” Charles brain was now working overtime, trying to figure out a way to start putting the first paragraph down, “Now, what should we say?”
And so, the evening went, ideas being thrown in and out, vetoing sentences that Lando tried to sneak in there, genuinely hurt when nearly every single good line he had was excluded, to such an extent that Pierre ended up insisting they put at least one in, his friends smile a guarantee that he wouldn’t complain anymore after that.
------
“We cannot have another line about how she takes his breath away, at this point this is basically a confession that he’s being suffocated” Charles tried to argue.
“Suffocated by her love!” George defended.
“That does not sound like a good thing” Carlos had drifted off into space, picturing you choking Pierre, a small giggle leaving him as he did, the sight supremely funny in his drunken state.
“What if!” Lando began before silence overtook the entire room, waiting for him to continue, “Okay, yes, what if we like spoke about her looks for a second, girls love being told they are pretty don’t they?” He waited for a round of nods before continuing, “So we talk about how you get lost in those eyes of hers and how you have to contain yourself when you catch a glimpse of her hourglass figure and how you can feel the goosebumps on your skin when you hear her say your name” there was suddenly a far-away look in his eyes, all of the drivers glancing at each other, silently agreeing that he was speaking from what seemed a very personal perspective, “lando” all though that last part was a whisper, all of them had clearly heard him.
“Uhm, so, you’re not allowed to partake anymore” Charles had decided on behalf of all of them, and honestly, Lando should be thankful it was Charles instead of Pierre putting his foot down, because the way Pierre was suddenly looking at him, one more comment and he was a dead man.
“Okay, but maybe we should stop here, this is already 6 pages long and I think we may be waffling at this point” George tried to conclude this, despite being proud of all of it, at some point, words lose their power when there are too many of them.
“6 fucking pages?” Max was shocked, he might not know much about all of this, but he knew that was too many fucking words, haphazardly thrown on those pages, no matter how hard they had tried, “too long, there is no way she’s taking in any of that”.
They were defeated, each and every one of them, all running out of steam the later the evening got, and the more alcohol they got into their system.
“We need to make her see how important she is, but in significantly less words, you got to dig deep my friend, in your soul, share it all with her” Carlos was nearly pleading at this point, desperate to get to bed.
Silence took over as Pierre absorbed what Carlos had said.
‘In your soul’
“I have it” Pierre was snatching the note pad before any of them could even react, turning to a new page and scribbling down the few words he was sure would save everything, would save himself, all the other boys craning their necks to look what he wrote.
Finishing the short letter quickly, he turned to the rest of them, holding the letter up for them to all deny or approve, a chorus of “fucking finally” and “well done, it’s perfect” falling from all their lips.
“Think it will be enough?” Pierre was insecure, asking Charles his honest opinion once all the other boys had left his hotel room in search of their own beds, but he knew this was the truth, this was him opening up the barest part of him in the hopes you would understand how he truly felt about you.
“If that isn’t enough, I have no idea what would ever work”
------
Tout
I searched for the right words to adequately express how much you mean to me, how deeply I love you.
 I ripped apart my very soul to find them and instead what I found in there, all that existed in there, from the beginning to the end and all the seconds between, was one thing.
You.
-Forever Yours
1K notes · View notes
voguescapes · 2 years
Text
t. holland | wired
pairings. tom holland x fem!reader
about. tom and (y/n) have been invited to 'wired' for an autocomplete interview.
warnings. not edited, cursing, jealous tom close to the end, inspired by on wattpad (i’ll link them when i find it), not my gif, reader seems kind of mean, clingy tom??, lmk if i missed something!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Hi, I'm Tom Holland." Tom grinned into the camera. "And I'm Y/N L/N, and you're watching Disney Channel." You used your pointer finger as a glitter wand and horribly sketched the iconic Mickey Mouse ear shape.
"You know I love you." He affirmed, leaning in for a kiss. You swiftly turned your head to the side before his lips could touch yours and stared into the camera.
"Let's get started!"
Tom mumbled incoherent words and picked up a board that leaned against the back of his chair.
"Alright then," he grumbled as he ripped the small piece of paper on the board and read the bold words underneath, "Does Y/N L/N do her own stunts?"
"Uh, Yeah, I do, but I have a wonderful stunt double on set named Marrissa who steps in when Marvel tells me I can't do certain stunts. She is an absolute badass. So anyways, kind of? Yes, I do do my own stunts, but there are just some I cannot do."
"You said do do." Tom immaturely teases, causing you both burst into laughter. You paid no attention to your publicist rolling her eyes at your childishness from the corner of your eye. "Next question!" Tom dramatically turns his head to the board and peels off the next strip of paper.
"Does Y/N L/N have a child?" Tom read aloud. "Um, not that I'm aware of, no." You chuckled. Tom turned to you and shook his head. "What a silly question."
"Does Y/N L/N have any tattoos?" He read. "She does actually, you got it with Mackie and Sebastian right?" He tilted his head to stare at you.
"Right. I can't show it, it's technically a spoiler!" You smirked as you apologised into the camera.
Tom shifted to look at the camera again and covered the side of his mouth, "I've seen it." He smiled cheekily as he whispered it loudly.
"It's not like it's on my ass, Holland. If my incredible makeup artists hadn't covered it so wonderfully today, it would be on camera right now, that's all i'm going to say."
"They have the tattoos on their forearms!" He whispered again, as if he was sharing a life threatening secret to the camera. You rolled your eyes sarcastically. "Tom is just really happy because Mackie and I spoke about it in an interview before him and I met on Ellen and he'd been dying to see it while we started dating."
"That's completely true." You leaned only a few inches and placed a quick kiss to his cheek, which turned a light shade of pink, similar to the shirt he was wearing.
Changing the topic, he pulled off the next piece of sticky paper. "Does Y/N L/N have a boyfriend?"
"Yes, Timothée Chalamet."
"You just said that we were dating 5 seconds ago." He whined. You placed your hand on top of his that was resting on his knee. "Things change, people change." You deadpanned.
Tom rolled his eyes and threw the board with no questions left on it behind him. "My turn!"
A member of the crew silently rushed over to you and handed you a board. You thanked them and turned back to Tom. "Those questions were pretty intense, are you ready for that kind of pressure, Tommy?" You joked. He pretended to contemplate his options and eventually nodded with a determined look smeared on his face.
"Is Tom Holland a nice person?" You read. "Yes." Tom smiled while you silently shook your head and widened your eyes mouthing "no". The actor turned to you and audibly gasped. "You are an asshole!" You giggled.
"She loves me, I promise."
"Is Tom Holland perfect?" You smiled. "Uh, no, I'm not perfect. No one's perfect." Tom responded. "Wrong. There is a perfect person on this earth. Her name is Tessa Holland." You stated matter of factuality
"Of course you think that." He scoffed. "It's the truth, love." You reached out and pushed a stray curl away from his eyes. You caressed his cheek with your thumb and grinned while he continued to pout.
You pulled your hand away from his face and ripped off the following piece of paper off the cardboard. "Is Tom Holland a good actor?" His face visibly lit up after you read the question. He'd always get this way when speaking about his music, which you admired. "Yes, I am, actually. No, I’m kidding, that’s for you to decide!”
“I think you’re an incredible actor, but I’m pretty sure that I count as biased.”
You grabbed his hand that was still around your shoulders and kissed the back of it before reading, "Is Tom Holland in Uncharted?"
Tom looked down for a second before staring into the camera again, "Uh, yeah! I play Nathan Drake, and uh, it was very fun filming it, go watch it on Netflix now!"
"Good shameless plug." You complimented and nudged his elbow. "Thank you, I try." You chuckled and shook your head. "Next!"
"Is Tom Holland a twin?" You sighed and placed your fingers on your forehead, as if you had a fever. "Could you imagine if he was?" You gushed dramatically.
He blushed and shook his head for the millionth time that interview, “I'm not a twin, but I do have twin brothers!." Y/N smiled at the memory of meeting Tom’s kind, welcoming brothers for the first time.
"That's it for this board!" You cheered and broke it against your knee in one try. Tom’s glance flickered from you to the camera and then back to you, all with a shocked expression.
"That was hot."
"Wow, my boyfriend is so charming and poetic." You snorted.
He observed that the next board had different interrogative words, unlike the last two which were all the same.
"Alright, when did... Y/N L/N audition for The Falcon and The Winter Soldier?" He read aloud. “I auditioned for the show about 2 or 3 years ago? It's hard to remember, I just know it's been a very long time since then." You answered, holding up a proud thumbs up.
"I'm proud of you, Y/N/N." Tom exclaimed honestly, looking at you with gleaming eyes. Y/S/N stans would always comment on recent interviews and make Instagram posts dedicated to the way you and Tom would look at each other as if you hung up all the stars in the sky for one another. You knew this would be the next moment they'd post about. It was sweet.
Tom began to lean in but you backed away, "PDA! We have to keep this child friendly!" Tom groaned at your annoying childlike mood and once again pulled back and straightened himself in his seat.
He peeled the next strip of paper off the board, "Why doesn't Y/N L/N drink alcohol?" Tom read out to the camera. A few months ago, a video of you rejecting alcohol and instead ordering a lemonade while having lunch in Atlanta with Sebastian, Anthony and Daniel Brühl went viral, and you had no idea how or why.
There were articles assuming you were previously addicted, your parents had problems with alcohol in the past that caused you trauma, you were pregnant. all of the sorts really, when the real reason why you declined ordering a drink with the guys was because you just never thought about drinking alcohol.
"There’s really no real reason why I don’t drink alcohol. I guess because I never really wanted to? I don’t know."
Tom sat properly in his chair again, getting ready to read the next question, "Okay, how lovely. Last one." He ripped off the piece of paper quickly. "What is Y/N L/N doing right now?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "That's such a creepy, personal question. Who would search th-" Tom began to rant before you cut him off.
"Easy answer. Thinking about Timothée Chalamet." You spoke, shrugging as if it was obvious. Tom mouth fell open as he processed your love for another actor.
In the midst of his twinging jealousy, he instinctively tilted Y/N's chin that facing the camera towards his face and pressed a powerful kiss to your lips.
"Tommy, stop. PDA!" You mumbled against his lips as you tried to back up. Tom disconnected his lips from yours and turned his face towards the camera.
"Subscribe to WIRED, big thanks for watching, goodbye!" He saluted towards the camera and shifted back towards you, covering your faces with the cardboard that was in his lap and finally pressing a real kiss to your lips.
644 notes · View notes
madamspeaker · 8 months
Text
If you were going to draw up a list of the people most responsible for the latest indictment of Donald Trump, the former president himself would be at the top, followed by the prosecutors who have brought the case. Republicans in Congress perversely deserve a great deal of credit, too, since they could have exiled Trump from political life and perhaps spared him more intense legal scrutiny if they had voted to convict him in the impeachment trial over his role in the siege of the Capitol on January 6, 2021.
Ultimately, however, you cannot tell the story of Trump’s historic indictment without Nancy Pelosi. It was the then-Speaker of the House who insisted that there be a congressional inquiry following January 6. And it was the work of the select committee she fashioned that finally appears to have spurred a reluctant Justice Department to action, setting in motion a more intense phase of criminal scrutiny focused on Trump’s effort to overturn the 2020 presidential election.The resulting indictment closely tracks the select committee’s work and findings, presenting a factual narrative that traces — almost identically — the evidence presented by the committee of a sophisticated, multipronged effort by Trump to remain in power that culminated in the mayhem at the U.S. Capitol.
“I knew on January 6 that he had committed a crime,” Pelosi told me late Friday afternoon, squeezing me in for a roughly 30-minute interview at the tail end of a remarkable week in Washington.
I wondered what was going through her head as someone who had played an essential role in bringing about the most important criminal prosecution in the history of our country, and I was curious, in particular, when it had occurred to her that Trump’s conduct following the 2020 election had not merely been politically destructive or outrageous but may have crossed the line into actual criminality.
During the Trump administration, Pelosi emerged as one of Trump’s most persistent and effective political antagonists, and the personal rancor between the two was often on public display. She went toe to toe with him in the Oval Office. She authorized the third-ever impeachment of an American president after Trump’s effort to shake down Ukraine’s president to get dirt on Joe Biden. She famously tore up Trump’s 2020 State of the Union speech while standing behind him. As Trump’s supporters began to approach the Capitol on January 6, Pelosi said that if Trump joined them, “I’m going to punch him out. I’ve been waiting for this. For trespassing on the Capitol grounds, I’m going to punch him out. And I’m going to go to jail, and I’m going to be happy.”
The rioters proceeded to ransack her office, and instead of punching Trump, who was prevented from going to the Capitol by the Secret Service, Pelosi impeached him again. To this day, Pelosi seems to get under Trump’s skin like no one else. Early Sunday morning, Trump called her “a sick & demented psycho who will someday live in HELL!”
Long before January 6 itself, Pelosi had been preparing for Trump to try to disrupt the transfer of power. “During the election, I thought, ‘He’s going to try to pull a stunt and we have to try to have as many states in the Democratic column as possible,’” she told me, contemplating the possibility that Biden’s victory might not be certified and that the House would have to move to an obscure procedure in which each state’s congressional delegation would cast a single vote to determine the next president.
Trump promptly proceeded to validate that concern, undertaking an extraordinary effort to remain in power after Election Day by falsely claiming that he had won and by trying to work various levers of official power to stay in office. “As we got closer to January 6, I knew he was cooking up all these things, but what was he going to do about it?” Pelosi recalled. “It was clear that he knew he did not win the election,” she explained. “It was clear, and he had to disrupt” the joint session of Congress to certify the election. As the indictment alleges, Trump did this not only by pressuring Vice-President Mike Pence to illegally cast aside Biden’s electoral votes but also by watching with apparent pleasure as a mob tore through the Capitol and by exploiting the violence fed by his lies.
“When we saw what he did on January 6, I knew that was a crime,” Pelosi added. She acknowledged that it is not possible to predict “what can be proven” successfully in court, “but I know he committed a crime that day.”
After Biden’s inauguration, Pelosi set about to organize a bipartisan 9/11 Commission–type investigation into the events that led up to January 6, but she was repeatedly stymied by congressional Republicans. “We yielded on every point,” Pelosi recalled of the negotiations with her Republican counterparts at the time. “We gave them an equal number of commission members, which we always would have done — equal member staff, equal member funding for everything — and equal subpoena power, which the majority never gives away, but nonetheless, we did it because this was so awful for our country, so necessary to have this.”
In what turned out to have been a historic miscalculation, Republican minority leader Mitch McConnell blocked the initiative in the Senate. “He went around to members and said, ‘Do me a personal favor and do not vote for this,’” Pelosi told me. “Even though he knew that night — and said — that the Republican president was responsible, they didn’t even want to have an investigation.”
Pelosi has earned a reputation as one of the most tactically savvy leaders in the history of the Congress, and she chuckled as she recalled McConnell’s maneuvering. “People said to Mitch, ‘You think Nancy is going to let this go?’ What could he have been thinking?”
Pelosi then shifted gears to negotiating over a select committee in the House with Republican leader Kevin McCarthy, who took the project about as seriously as McConnell had by proposing to name, among other people, bomb-thrower Jim Jordan to the panel. Pelosi quickly decided the negotiations were not going anywhere, explaining that McCarthy wanted to appoint members who would “totally undermine” the committee. “Okay,” she recalled thinking. “That’s really nice. So you get consultation as to who will serve [on the committee], and I have consulted with you, and I’ve said ‘no’ to who you want. That’s the power of the Speaker.”
Pelosi then assembled a group led by Democratic chair Bennie Thompson and Republican vice-chair Liz Cheney, along with six other Democrats and Republican congressman Adam Kinzinger. It did not take long for observers to conclude that McCarthy may have monumentally misplayed his hand, particularly after the committee produced a riveting series of hearings last summer that were mercifully free of the clownish and disruptive antics of the House GOP’s right flank.
In the course of our discussion, Pelosi was reluctant to take any sort of credit for the committee’s work or Trump’s indictment with the exception of taking “credit for the appointees” on the committee, whom she described as providing a “beautiful balance” in their approaches and a crucial “seriousness of purpose.”
Pelosi said she knew from the beginning that, in order for the committee to succeed, it could not operate in the way of typical committee hearings, and she worked to ensure that the members shared that perspective. “When people were accepting the offer to be on the committee, they knew that it wasn’t going to be every five minutes that they’d be speaking,” she said. “It would be part of the plan [to present] a narrative for the public to understand.”
In the end, Pelosi told me, “the quality of the membership, the effectiveness of the staff, and the excellence of the presentation made it one of the best presentations in the history of our country.”
Meanwhile, there were questions about what the Justice Department was doing to address the potential criminal culpability of Trump and those in his orbit. The committee’s members and staff were uncovering — and presenting to the public — damaging evidence that they had obtained from Trump administration officials, but the DOJ was not pursuing those same threads — despite public frustration among some observers — seemingly content with focusing on the people who had stormed the Capitol or who played a role in organizing the violence that day.
I asked Pelosi whether during this period she had ever tried to speak with Attorney General Merrick Garland, President Biden, or anyone in the White House about making sure the Justice Department was properly investigating Trump’s conduct. “No,” she quickly responded, telling me that she did not think it was appropriate for her to try to influence the department’s work behind closed doors.
“I did want them to pay attention, and I hope that we got their attention,” Pelosi told me. “That’s why the presentation — the narrative — had to be the way it was,” she explained, so that the public record could be as clear and credible as possible. “We couldn’t have people, like the Republicans wanted to put on, who would be disruptive, disruptive, disruptive. Too much was at stake.”
Still, there was palpable anxiety among House Democrats about the Justice Department’s progress — or lack thereof — investigating Trump directly. That anxiety may have reached a high point this June, when the Washington Post published a remarkable 8,000-word story providing the most comprehensive account to date of the department’s investigation into Trump’s conduct.
According to the Post, it took “more than a year” after January 6 “before prosecutors and FBI agents jointly embarked on a formal probe of actions directed from the White House to try to steal the election,” and “even then, the FBI stopped short of identifying the former president as a focus of that investigation.” One source told the paper that “it felt as though the department was reacting to the House committee’s work as well as heightened media coverage and commentary” as the department’s investigation finally gathered steam last year.
“When the Washington Post article came out,” Pelosi told me, “not that it was a complete shock or surprise to our members, but they were very concerned about it.”
Now that Trump has been indicted over his effort to steal the election, we are in the midst of a singular moment in American history — one that will have dramatic long-term implications for our country and one that will likely be covered in history books for generations to come. The difference, of course, is that as we live through this period, we have no idea how it will end — with Trump in prison or with Trump in the White House again.
I asked Pelosi how she thought this would all end, and she struck a tentative but cautiously optimistic tone. “As we always say, it all depends on what happens at the end of the day, but you have to determine what the end of the day is. Yesterday was the end of a day. The former president of the United States was arraigned, and that was a triumph for the truth.”
“The indictments against the president are exquisite,” Pelosi added, referring to both the latest set of charges and the earlier federal indictment over Trump’s hoarding of classified documents at Mar-a-Lago and his subsequent efforts to obstruct investigators. “They’re beautiful and intricate, and they probably have a better chance of conviction than anything that I would come up with.”
As for the prospect of a second Trump term, Pelosi immediately recoiled when I brought it up. “Don’t even think of that,” she told me. “Don’t think of the world being on fire. It cannot happen, or we will not be the United States of America.”
“If he were to be president,” she continued, “it would be a criminal enterprise in the White House.”
There was a time in American life, not that long ago, when that would have been clear hyperbole. These are categorically different times.
65 notes · View notes
pasdasin · 2 months
Text
Entanglement - ch 1
first chapter of this series! im so excited lol!
cw: cussing prob. idk what else pls lemme know
read under the cut!
next
Heavy rain always recalled the pain of the captain’s past. A demented reminder of the life that he had left behind in order to survive. The horror of the fated day replayed in his mind as he leaned over his desk. With such heavy rain, the commander, Erwin, believed that a rest day was in order. Just a few weeks after the coup d’état and an inevitable expedition right around the corner. Rest was needed but the farthest thing on Levi’s mind. His thoughts shifted from the painful day to more peaceful memories of his dear friends. It was harder to remember their voices and the way they looked the longer time passed, as the more people he lost grew.
A knock recaptured his attention and brought him back to reality. He muttered an enter and looked up to meet the eyes of his only two friends left in the above ground world. He quickly stood up and greeted Erwin before glancing at Hange. 
“Levi theres a problem…” Erwin stated as Hange closed the door, making sure no one was able to hear the conversation.
“Problem? What do you mean Erwin?” Levi looked up at the commander, confusion laced his eyes.
“Ever since the Coup, we had a suspicion that someone wouldn’t be happy. I was right, just an hour ago we intercepted a package addressed to you” Erwin stated sitting in one of the chairs around his office. “Inside was a heart, we suspect it is human but we cannot be sure until it gets tested.” 
Levi’s eyes widened. It was impossible, Kenny had died by Levi’s hands. All of his connections to the underground world had either disappeared or died. Only a man with a death wish would try to pull this stunt. 
“A letter came with it, detailing some woman in the underground…” Hange tailed off, pulling it out of her pocket and handing it to Levi. Levi took it and read it. His face dropped as he gripped the paper. I thought she was dead. 
“Erwin, I would like to take my team to the underground city. I have an idea of who is behind this.”
----
A wolf whistle reaches your ears as you arrive to the run down building you called work. Dull eyes looking up to meet your boss and his companion. A few girls sitting up next to some sleeze bags and a full bar. Your boss grinned ear to ear as he looked at you. It was no secret that your boss, Conrad, had the upmost favor and adoration for you. The only girl he had employed to stay fully clothed. 
Conrad ran maybe the only neutral territory in the underground and of course it was a brothel. Upstairs moans and creaky floor boards were heard. Some girls looked at you with jealously, others with respect, but only Conrad knew the real reason he didn’t pimp you out. Not even you had learned the true reason, all you knew was that you were thankful.
“Ah there is my favorite girl in the whole world!” Conrad exclaimed as you approached his table, stroking your cheek affectionately. You gave a curt nod. Before opening the booking journal you carried. Conrad and his partner, Darius, discussed business plans, money, investments, remodels, and the whole works while you carefully jotted down the important information and repeated the minutes. The two men shook hands and Darius left. You turned your head to face Conrad.
“Sir, is there anything else you’d like me to record today before I balance the books?”
“Yes actually, Y/N please come into my office.” Conrad whispered before carefully leading the way. You both entered his office and you sat down in your usual chair. Before you could question him, Conrad dropped a heavy box on the table in front of you.
“As you know, Kenny the Reaper is dead. Now I don’t know who you pissed off but tell me why there is a heart in a box being mailed to my establishment.” Your eyes widened and as you peered into the box you left the bile rise in your throat. Your mouth opened but nothing came out. A note was attached addressed to you. Reaching for it as you tried to avoid the heart, you quickly scanned the message before gasping. It's impossible… they told me he was dead. 
27 notes · View notes
yurislotusgarden · 3 months
Text
Circle of complaints
ʚїɞ aka, Welt and Kunikida complaining about having to be unassuming fathers
ʚїɞ Small mentions of reader bcs they're a menace together with either Dazai or March (There's 2 readers, one for bsd universe and one for hsr universe)
ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!
ʚїɞ word count: 1.7k
ʚїɞ Idea was stolen from comes from @lotus-pear <3
ʚїɞ Tw’s: None!
Tumblr media
“Are you sure that a pure dark coffee with 4 shots of expresso is a good decision?”
“No, it's not, but I need it.”
The older man sighed, and as he had previously noticed, the younger male was sitting completely alone in the cafe, and seeing as he, himself, was in the same predicament, he decided to join.
“Mind if I sit with you? If you don’t mind, of course.”
“No no, I don’t mind, feel free to sit.”
“Thank you.”
The brunet pulled the chair out and sat down, placing his own coffee on the table. 
Pure dark coffee, with 2 shots of expresso. He wasn't much better than the blonde in front of him, but he still had less caffeine in the end.
“Are you sure that I shouldn’t ask the very same question you gave me just a moment before?”
“How about we both ignore our coffees?”
“...That’s a good idea, I suppose. I’m Kunikida Doppo, you?”
“My name’s Welt Yang, nice to meet you.”
The both of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Kunikida’s phone started to ring. Welt had to say that the ringtone, the caller ID, and the picture of the contact were… surprising, to say the least. The older man expected the younger one to accept the call, only for him to decline it, and mute his phone when the same person called again moments later.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking but, are you having a bad day that you’re not answering the call?”
“No, it’s the fact that the caller is one of the people who are the reason behind me being here, drinking this abomination.”
“Understandable, can I know what they did?”
The deep, exhausted sigh from the blonde wasn’t giving any good signs to the brunet.
“It was sand this time.”
“Sand?”
“Yes, I opened a drawer in my desk earlier this morning only to find all of my things covered in sand, nothing was spared. Everything was either covered or full of it. Dazai and [Name], the two responsible for that stunt, were either sitting on the agency couch or their desk respectively, trying not to laugh at my expression when I realized what they did.”
“Hmm… those two, Dazai and [Name], do they do things like that often? Because it sounds like they do.”
“Let me tell you, a day where nothing would happen is a day I would consider a miracle. Both of them are always planning how to get on my nerves. I cannot tell you how many pens I lost due to me snapping them in half.” 
The older one chuckled, he had to admit that it reminded him of the things that March and (Name) would often do to the other occupants of the train. He stopped counting how many times he had found things he shouldn't have in places they weren't meant to be in.
“You know, it reminds me of something my coworkers did before.”
“Really? You also have complete menaces as coworkers?”
“Yes, one time two of them, March 7th and (Name), got buckets full of sand one night when everyone else went into their rooms to sleep. The next morning when everyone left their rooms, the entire floor was covered in so much sand that it could’ve been considered a beach, only water was missing.”
“That sounds like a nightmare to clean up.”
“It was. At first, those two troublemakers were sentenced to cleaning up alone, but we all quickly realized that they'd need help if we wanted the sand out the same day. Even then, the sand continues to be found in completely random places till today.”
“How long ago did it happen?”
“Hmm…I would say that soon it'll be 7 months since then.”
“...Now I'm praying that my idiots won't get that idea.”
“You better.”
The younger man sighed. The man that sat with him definitely seemed wise, obviously more experienced with life if he was to guess his age, and unfortunately, he seemed to be on the same boat when it came to coworkers.
“Is it normal for your chaos duo to pull such things?”
“...Chaos duo?”
“It fits.”
“...I guess it does.”
Kunikida was curious, he could tell the two people Welt was talking about were ones to expect some pranks from, but just how was the older man so used it? *At least he looks like he’s used to it* the blonde told himself, slightly amused.
“Honestly, it's completely normal for the two to pull pranks, from smaller to bigger ones. Although it doesn't happen as often as it does for you.”
“After hearing about your sand incident, I think I may be lucky with those bastards doing small pranks on the agency members.”
“You sure should be thankful for small, harmless pranks, you could be having much worse. Also don't mind me asking but, ‘agency’?”
“Ah yes, I work at the armed detective agency, we basically take care of cases that are too much for the police, but still less than what should get the military involved.”
“Sounds like an eventful though dangerous job, I’m not going to lie. I cannot say what my job specializes in, but I do travel a lot.”
“Is Yokohama a work destination?”
“No actually, we decided to have a small break, short vacation, if you will, and since we were already close by, we decided that Yokohama was gonna be our stop.”
“Do you like the city?”
“It's very lovely, I can't lie, I'm a fan of the views, especially water-related ones at sunsets.”
“They're beautiful indeed, would be even better if there was no chance to fish out a suicidal maniac like he's fish himself.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me correctly.”
“What do you mean by ‘fish out a suicidal maniac’?”
Welt was worried upon hearing those words, but for some reason, Kunikida seemed completely carefree. Was it so normal for him to call someone like that? Wait wasn't the picture of the caller earlier a person on a ro-
“Dazai Osamu, the person I talked about earlier, literally dreams about a double suicidal with a beautiful woman, but it's not uncommon at all to find him floating down a river as, or after, a suicide attempt.”
“I-”
“Please don't dwell on that.”
Alright so he had every reason to be worried, but he also guessed that Kunikida was way too used to that ‘Dazai’ person’s antics by now.
“...So what’s another prank you fell victim to?”
---------------
“So you're saying, that one time, you left your tea out on a table, just for one person to change it to coffee, then another person to change it to colored vodka (you added food coloring to it), after that yet another person changed it out to a very weird tasting tea, just for someone to change it to food colored water that someone else ended up drinking because the cups got mixed with your friend’s in that whole ordeal?”
“Yeah, it wasn't the first time something like that happened as well.”
Kunikida decided that he was actually lucky with how he gets pranked when he heard what sometimes March and (Reader) did to Welt. Or even someone else when they roped someone into their plan.
“Should I watch out for my drinks even more than I already do?”
“When I hear what your coworkers already have done, I would say yes because it may escalate at some point.”
“Just great-”
“Your cake is falling.”
“Oh shit-”
The cake was successfully saved from falling off of Kunikida's fork, which he was happy about as that was one of the best cakes he’s eaten till this day.
---------------
“-and so I-”
“Wait wait wait.”
“Yeah?”
“You found your paperwork on the roof, the only thing keeping it from flying being a singular pin?”
“Yes, I searched for that paperwork for a week before Ranpo took pity on me and gave me a hint.”
“The hint being?”
“He said, and I quote ‘Do you think that paperwork can fly?’. It caused me to check out all of the windows and then the roof.”
“...Your partner loves chaos doesn't he?”
“He adores it.”
“You actually reminded me of that one time that my research papers were taped all over my workplace, nothing spared, not even the floor or ceiling.”
“Hold up WHAT-”
#)+_)#)#
“And guess what? He had absolutely no remorse for that! The bastard!”
“We have way too many similar experiences…”
First the sand, then the broken things, messed up work - for Kunikida, and messed up documentation on some observations for welt, hair cut when taking a short nap, teasing comments, changed up drink when one was not looking (Welt laughed way too much at hearing that you changed Kunikida's water for vodka, and Kunikida had a hard time trying not to laugh at Welt’s tea being changed to water with food coloring), things completely going missing before being found days later in the most random spot imaginable he swears that Kunikida will have gray hair or aneurysm before 25.
“Way too many. I say we don't let those 4 meet each other, it won't be good for anyone around.”
“Pretty sure it would end up with half of the city hating them.”
“Half? I say most.”
“That's an exaggeration.”
“Not at all.”
Both of them had to say that the talk in the cafe was very pleasant. Sharing the memories problems that are so similar that it got kind of worrying at one point, but very pleasant indeed. Unfortunately for Kunikida, he noticed he was about to run behind his schedule if he was to stay any longer.
“Say, how long are you staying in the city?”
“It depends on my coworkers really, but we planned 2 weeks at the very least, we all need it.”
“How about we meet every now and then? Just to talk like we did today?”
“I would say that's a great idea. A talk like this can be very refreshing.”
“Great, let’s exchange numbers then?”
“Of course.”
Little did the two of them know that soon yet another person would join them. That, dear readers, is how their little circle of complaints came to be.
Tumblr media
Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ Taglist ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
@sukiischaotic
37 notes · View notes
septnanis · 11 months
Text
“Fuck,” Riku swears the minute he drops the full cup of coffee on the ground. The cup shatters, his boots are covered in coffee but it’s the harshness of how he swears and the instant draining of color in his face that has Sora out of his seat in an instant.
“Here, let me,” Sora says and reaches for Riku’s hand, who surprisingly recoils with a hiss.
“Don’t…” and it’s just as harsh as him swearing.
When Sora pulls away Riku seems to realise how harsh he sounds and he sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says.
“Let me help,” Sora says. He’s a little on the defense because he’s not used to Riku being like this but he gentles his tone regardless. “It’s just coffee!”
Riku leans against the counter so he can bend over to clean but Sora stops him with one hand, and waves his other, concentrating the spell as best he can.
The coffee evaporates and the little shards of the cup pull together in a scrape of porcelain like magnets. Sora bends down to pick the cup up and holds it aloft.
“Not bad, huh?” Sora asks and Riku grins.
“You’re getting a lot better at that,” Riku says with a fond tone. “You’re gonna give the brooms at Yen Sid’s tower a run for their money.”
Sora laughs, but his eye is drawn to Riku’s hand. It’s shaking, in a stunted way, like Riku is clenching down to stop it from shaking.
“Cleaning spells are actually pretty easy,” Sora says and reaches out to take Riku’s hand in his own. “It’s kinda funny, they’re a lot like healing spells. You gotta focus on something…” he looks at Riku’s hand and narrows his eyes at the slight tremble despite his grip. “And try and make it whole again.”
The healing magic flows from Sora’s fingers into Riku’s hand, curling around it like gold and green gentle vines, sparkling against their skin.
“You can’t fix everything,” Riku says, looking down at their joined hands and then at Sora’s face.
“Nope,” Sora says. “But I can try!”
A moment of silence drops between them, so thick it feels like even time slows down. There’s only a few inches between them and it takes everything in Sora not to just step forward.
If Riku didn’t want him to, surely he wouldn’t be looking at Sora like that.
Instead, Riku inhales sharply and steps away. Far enough away that even their hands disconnect. It leaves Sora feeling a little bereft and confused.
“I’m sorry,” Riku says again. He apologises too often. “It feels a lot better now. Your magic is something else.” He halts a moment and looks at Sora the way he was before and it makes Sora feel less bereft and more like he’s going crazy. “You’re something else.”
“Riku…” Sora says, trying to close the distance again. “You can… you can ask for help, you know? I’m your friend.”
Riku smiles, a small thing that makes Sora’s head spin a little. “I know,” he says. “Thanks, Sora.”
He turns and leaves the room, Sora almost wants to go after him, tell him something, anything. Instead he lets Riku leave and feels a little silly for feeling so much over such a small interaction.
Sora picks up the cup that had fallen to the floor and runs his finger over the lines that remain despite it being fixed.
He sets it back down and decides he likes it better this way.
(This was written because I saw a post about Riku’s injuries. The idea of Riku having chronic pain due to injuries is both sad and interesting to me because you know he’s gonna treat it like some cross he has to bear.
Sora is always a powerful magic user in my writing and he would definitely use it constantly to help his friends with the most benign issues.
Also, I cannot even begin to explain how much I loathe the widespread fanon that Roxas thinks it’s funny/great that he permanently injured Riku.)
76 notes · View notes
dftea · 3 months
Text
Follow me, Eurydice
Geralt is auctioned but Jaskier is there - hurt/comfort, geraskier/geraskefer/family of destiny
[read on ao3]
Geralt jolts awake, the tingle of magic itching at his skin. He is upright, barely, leaning against a cold pillar of stone with his wrists chained around it.
Around him, through a shimmering shield, he can hear a crowd of murmuring shadows, echoing strangely in the cavern surrounding him.
He reaches for the memory of how he came to be here, but it’s blurred in a thick fog, part magical and part related to the clot of blood he feels tugging at his hair. His bad leg is throbbing in protest, and he has a dozen half-healed injuries that speak of an intense and bloody fight.
The shield abruptly falls, and the cavern hushes, but it is still too bright, too loud. He doesn't remember taking a potion but he feels sensitive, disorientated.
“Who will start the bidding at one thousand crowns?”
Geralt thought the underground auction house was merely a rumour, but he should’ve known better than to doubt a story that spread so far and wide.
If Jaskier has taught him anything…
Jaskier.
Where is his bard? 
The memories hit him sharply - the ambush on the road, the sheer numbers of them, telling Jaskier to leave him and not believing for a moment that he actually would.
Did he run for his life, like Geralt demanded? Was he another lot in this perverse auction? Or was he lying dead in the road, abandoned by the auctioneer’s mercenaries as not worth the effort?
He tries to look around, but the lights are blinding and he cannot get his bearings. The auctioneer is taking bids, but Geralt has lost track of how much these cretins think he’s worth. Of how much they think Ciri's location is worth.
He will die first, of that he is certain. A slow and painful death, but he endured the Trials as a mere human child - he can do this for his daughter, for his family.
If Jaskier is gone, it will make it easier to die.
“Who will give me–”
“Fifty thousand crowns.”
The voice is loud and resonant, cutting straight through the muttering and excitement - and Geralt would know that voice anywhere.
He’s going to kill him for this - after he's finished crushing him to his chest like a drowning man.
At least he’s alive to pull this stupid stunt.
Geralt tries to follow the sound, but he can only make out the silhouette of a ridiculous hat adorned with long feathers - the master bard is putting on a show for the crowned heads of the Continent, for the Emperor who hungers for his prize.
The auctioneer is momentarily stunned, not expecting such an escalation in the bidding, but he smoothly recovers.
“In coin, you understand, sir. The coin in your possession, tonight.”
“Oh, I am good for it,” Jaskier says, confidently, and Geralt doesn’t need to see him to know that he is giving the eye to every one of the competition. Impressing upon them the degree of their stupidity if they failed to account for him.
Geralt could kiss him. And then lightly shake him for a fool, for robbing whichever bank gave up that kind of money.
“Fifty-two thousand,” another voice calls - a mage, if Geralt isn’t mistaken, but he cannot place which one. Of course, the nobility hadn’t come themselves - it’s the surviving court mages and spymasters who are playing this game.
“Sixty thousand,” Jaskier says, easily.
Another silence, the soft jingling of coins in pouches. Trying to scrape together something to match that outrageous bid.
“Sixty-one?” comes a tentative venture, even as a hissed whisper tells the man to wait.
Jaskier scoffs. “Sixty-five.”
Geralt senses the defeat, the quick calculations regarding potential alliances - all dismissed. They have the money back in the palaces and vaults, but not here in this cavern, not tonight.
“Going once… going twice…”
Geralt feels the surging anger, the crackling of undischarged chaos - and whatever is holding it all at bay. An ancient dimeritium mine, perhaps.
The mages could probably break through its effects if they worked together - but they won’t, and they can’t burn their bridges to this place and its valuable treasures.
“Sold, to the Viscount de Lettenhove. If you will just bring your coffer, sir.”
The solid thud of a wooden chest hits a slab of rock, and Geralt hears the counting commence, by magic and by hand.
If he listens carefully, he can hear Jaskier humming, the gentle strumming of his lute. He vaguely recognises the song, he thinks, and that is likely the point. Jaskier is reminding him that he’s near, that he’s still able to breathe, to play. 
“It is all verified genuine,” the auctioneer declares, clearly a little surprised. “You may remove the lot now.”
“And the auction house guarantee?” Jaskier says, a little sharply. 
The auctioneer sighs, before reciting the words dully. “Not for ten years may the same lot pass through this house, dead or alive.”
“Quite right,” Jaskier says, and he’s clearly intimidating the other bidders again, heedless of their relative power.
The wind don’t cower to powerful men.
The bindings release, and it takes everything Geralt has not to collapse to the ground. Jaskier may be strong, but he can’t carry him out of there. They cannot afford to show any weakness to these predators and their masters.
The auction guards clear a path between him and his new owner, who he still can’t see all that clearly. Is he well? Favouring injuries? Everything within him longs to know.
Someone laughs in the crowd. “He’ll fall before you’re free, little bard. And then we’ll have him.”
Suddenly, Geralt feels something descend over him, very like a cloak. The light and sound is muffled again, and the crowd roars as if deprived of a spectacle.
“The lot will be concealed for ten minutes only,” the auctioneer intones. “After that, the auction will end and all participants may depart.”
Jaskier, apparently unperturbed, bows to his audience - and turns his back on Geralt. And he walks away, playing the same tune again and humming, not even glancing back over his shoulder.
Geralt stumbles after, concentrating on keeping his feet under him. He thinks it must have been some time since he was rested and fed, because his body would usually tolerate magic and deprivation better than this.
The tunnel is narrow ahead, and he bumps against the walls occasionally, keeping his eyes fixed on Jaskier. The bard is singing now, and Geralt finally recognises the Song of the Seven. Because Jaskier cannot help but prod the lions in their dens.
Every step feels like an eternity, but Jaskier doesn't speak to him, doesn’t run - he just swaggers onward, playing and singing as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
At first, he thinks he imagines the faint glow of light ahead, but as it grows, he recognises the silvery fall of moonlight. They are nearing the end, their escape. 
He hopes Jaskier has a plan, because he isn’t sure he could fight a kitten right now.
Jaskier steps out into the full night, but still does not turn. He plays a few more notes, as Geralt doggedly follows, step after agonising step until he is just behind the bard.
A roar of sound rushes up the tunnel behind them, and Geralt feels the cloak of magic fall away. 
Jaskier finally turns, his face lighting up as he sees Geralt, naked relief on his face and infusing his scent. 
He steps forward, an embrace and a necessary intervention to stop Geralt falling to his knees.
Geralt hears the urgent whisper - “Yen, I have him.” - before the telltale light of a portal opens before them, lilacs and gooseberries spilling out into the clear night.
Jaskier drags him forward, all but carrying him, and Geralt feels Yen’s lips brush his cheek with the briefest touch.
But it does not stop there - another portal, and another, and yet another, each carrying a different scent and another dizzying, nauseating blow to Geralt��s self-control.
Finally, he stumbles into a room that radiates safety, Jaskier hauling him over to a bed he calls his own.
“--barely conscious, could hardly–”
“--risk with potions. I would need–”
“--promised she’ll be back before I could miss her, and she always–”
The fragments wash over him, and he allows his eyes to close.
When he opens them again, he finds himself propped up in bed, with Jaskier’s chest for a pillow and Ciri’s hands warming his, as she sleeps in the chair. Yennefer is busying herself by the table with Vesemir, sorting through various ingredients and tinctures, quietly debating what will and won’t work for whatever ails him.
A gentle kiss brushes against his ear. “Welcome back,” Jaskier murmurs.
His voice draws Yennefer and Vesemir’s attention away from their alchemy, and Ciri stirs at their movements. Geralt feels minutely scrutinised and overwhelmingly loved, which he doesn’t quite know what to do with.
“How…?” he rasps.
“Drink first,” Yennefer says, producing first water and then a series of potions in consultation with Vesemir, before he leaves to prepare…breakfast? Geralt has no idea what hour it is, what meal he should eat, or even what day or month.
The potions all taste awful, but he can feel them working within him, knitting him back together from the inside. Still, Yennefer hovers close by, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch over him.
Jaskier is back to humming, rocking him very gently, and Geralt can smell the stale fear, exhaustion, and guilt on his clothes.
He means to tell him that he did the right thing in running, that he was unbelievably stupid to come and rescue him, and that he’s glad to be home.
Instead, he says, “Sixty five thousand crowns.”
“We actually had sixty-seven,” Ciri pipes up, excitable in a way only a child could be when discussing the budget of a small kingdom. “So I think you were a bargain, really.”
“How?” he says, again, because he doesn’t know how to ask why?
“Oh, this and that,” Jaskier says, evasively, as if this were the kind of spare change one found in the bottom of a pack.
“I sold four manor houses,” Yennefer said, rolling her eyes at Jaskier, which slightly dulled the blow of four manor houses. “And I called in some favours of a financial nature.”
“Yen…” he says, though it comes out rough, his body fighting fatigue and foundering with it.
Her hand strokes over his arm, catching on a bandage, and he belatedly realises he’s bare-chested save for bandages. A great many bandages.
“Please. What need have I for manor houses when I have a winter holiday home in the mountains?” She gestures to the room, which Geralt’s brain sluggishly informs him is his bedroom at Kaer Morhen. Their bedroom.
“But Jaskier…” Ciri begins, then trails off. 
Geralt can almost feel the intensity of the look Jaskier is shooting her from beside his ear, and he tries to turn his body to catch sight of his bard’s face. 
But he really is too tired even for that small movement, and instead submits to drinking more water and some kind of bone broth that uncomfortably reminds him of recovering from the Trials.
“I think they kept you in some kind of cursed sleep for the past two weeks,” Yennefer says, with distaste. “Not a proper stasis, which is why your body has barely healed and you’ve lost so much strength - amateurs.”
That’s why it feels as if Jaskier is holding him up, why that familiar embrace feels so much more like support.
That, and the sum of sixty five thousand crowns smothering him.
“He’s brooding,” Yennefer teases, fondly, directing the remark over Geralt’s shoulder. “You’ll have to tell him.”
“When he’s better,” Jaskier says, firmly, trying to shut down the conversation again. 
But that comment only worries Geralt more - what can’t he be told now, in his present state? Is he really so frail, or is Jaskier’s secret so terrible as to destroy him?
“He looks pretty upset now,” Ciri says, dubiously.
Jaskier sighs deeply, knowing when he’s outnumbered. 
“I sold my title,” he says, blandly, as if talking about some cheap trinket. “The title, the holdings, my place in the succession for the Earldom. It’s not like I was doing anything with them anyway.”
Geralt knows very little about Jaskier’s noble life, but he knows enough to see that this is not some trivial thing. A noble title is currency, power and privilege. “I’m sorry, Jask.”
“Oh, really, Ferrant will be a much better Earl. Don’t get all emotional on me again.”
Geralt still can’t see Jaskier’s face, but he can see Yennefer and Ciri well enough. He’s missing something here.
“That…doesn’t add up,” he says, quietly. Even with the addition of the manor houses, he doesn't see how a minor Earldom in Redania could raise that kind of capital.
A quieter, more subdued sigh. “And Valdo Marx paid an extortionate sum for me never to play in a tournament or court again.”
Geralt cannot help his involuntary gasp, searching Yennefer and Ciri’s faces for the truth of it.
“You didn't.”
“Geralt, I don’t care about accolades half as much as Valdo does. I haven't entered a tournament in three years. No court will pay me after I just swiped you out from under their noses.”
“We got what we wanted,” Yennefer says, softly, her eyes boring into his to make him understand.
“And we wanted what we got,” Jaskier adds, quietly, pressing another kiss to Geralt’s ear and drawing his arms tighter around him.
“It’s too much,” Geralt whispers, brokenly. “I’m not–”
“If you dare say you’re not worth it,” Ciri says, sharply, “I’ll remind you of all the times you've told me never to say that or to even think it.”
They close in around him then, Yennefer and Ciri enfolding him in their arms, as Jaskier continues to hold him. His family, a fortress greater than any built of stone or silver.
He feels his breath hitch in his chest, even if the tears that should fall deserted him long ago. 
“How did you know…I was there?” 
“The auction house broadcast their finds–,” Yennefer begins, but Geralt shakes his head, trying to find the right words.
“After, with the spell?” He turns his head slightly towards Jaskier. “You knew I was there.”
To his surprise, Jaskier huffs out a laugh. “I’m supposed to say something grand here about true love and destiny and that sort of thing. But the truth is that I could hear it. I was playing so I could hear the echoes in the cavern - I knew there was a solid something blocking the sound behind me and I just hoped it was you.”
“That is appallingly clever, bard,” Yennefer says, clearly impressed.
“That was scarily complimentary, witch.”
“I love you. All of you.”
It takes him a moment to realise that he’s the one who’s spoken, but then they fold themselves around him again, closer. And he feels that perhaps he could be worthy of it.
18 notes · View notes