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emphistic · 5 months

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Obsessed with your work frfr. Can I get a fic or anything you're comfortable with sukuna's friends coming over to his place and the reader sleeping in his bed or smth and him getting all protective and his friends teasing him. Thanks!

"You two are so annoying," Sukuna muttered into his mic, looking back at your calmly sleeping figure on his bed.

"Don't be such a party pooper, 'Kuna!" Gojo's laughter sounded through the pink-haired man's headset.

"I told you already, don't call me that."

"Aww, so your girlfriend can call you pet names but little ol' me can't? You're really showing your true colors here, man," Gojo feigned to cry.

"Could not care less," Sukuna rolled his eyes, his fingers swiftly clicking on the keyboard as he continued his game.

"I am to going to come over there and fuck you up."

"Satoru—" Geto tried to stop his white-haired friend.

"Try me. I'll kick your ass." Sukuna quickly retorted.

"Nah, I'd win."

A pinging sound was emitted through the Discord call as Gojo disconnected. Geto sighed, "Let's hope he's not actually going."

"Knowing him he's probably just going to rejoin the call. Give it a few minutes."

The few minutes were given and Gojo did not rejoin the call or the game lobby.

Sukuna drummed his fingers on his desk, clearly bored. "Damn, that idiot is really out of it today, huh. Died three games in a row to a bunch of newbies, and now thinks he can beat me in fight."

"I'll see if I can catch him midway, and drag him back," Geto suggested.

"Good luck with that," Sukuna chuckled.

Another ping sounded through Sukuna's headset as Geto left the call. The pink-haired man disconnected from the call as well, and sat up from his chair, slowly walking over towards you.

He admired your sleeping face, the fall and rise of your chest slightly hidden beneath your (his) sweater, the drool dribbling down your chin onto his pillow — which he didn't mind.

He gingerly brushed aside a strand of your hair so he could get an even better look at your face. Despite having been together for more than two years now, Sukuna still blushed at the thought and sight of you. Could you blame him though?

Sukuna slightly jumped at the sound of his doorbell ringing. He looked down at you to see if you had woken up from that but you only shifted a bit, unconsciously nuzzling your face into his palm, seeking his warmth.

What the hell? Was that dumbass actually being for real? Sukuna thought, as he reluctantly pulled away from you and walked out his room to go open the door.

This time, instead of the doorbell ringing, there was a pounding on the door.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming!" Sukuna quickly unlocked the door and, lo and behold, standing outside was a scene he was not expecting to see, like, ever.

Gojo, bent down with his hands on his knees, dripping sweat and huffing and puffing. Tufts of his white hair were everywhere, even more messed up than usual. Geto, who was leaning on the wall for support, was not looking much better than his friend.

"I'm sorry," Geto said, his chest heaving, "I tried to stop him, I swear."

Sukuna scrunched up his face, "You ran . . . all the way over here? From your building?"

"Uh huh, that's right," Gojo held out a thumbs up, still heavily panting. "Let me in, I'm going to beat your ass up now."

"No way in Hell, Satoru. And even if I did, you are in no condition to go toe to toe with me," Sukuna pointed to himself with his thumb at the word 'me'.

"C'mon, dude. I need a water, my throat is as dry as your game," Gojo continued to pursue.

"Yeah, my game is just sooo dry, huh? I'm literally the only one here with a girl on my arm."

"Bro, just let me in," Gojo pushed Sukuna aside, and stumbled into his apartment. Geto glanced at Sukuna with an apologetic look on his face, "My bad."

Sukuna sighed, mouthing, "Don't worry about it."

The three men settled in the kitchen. Gojo stuck his head in Sukuna's fridge and searched for a cold drink. Having finally fished one out, he stood back upright, leaning on the counter and drinking.

"So," the white-haired male said, between gulps, "where's the girl?"

"The girl?"

Gojo nodded, still drinking. "Uh huh. Where she at?"

"Sleeping." Sukuna gestured to the closed door at the other end of the apartment.

"How rude of her, the most amazing, handsomest man is in her home and she is sleeping?" Gojo placed his water bottle on the counter, and put a hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

"’Don't blame her. I would do the same," Geto joked, Sukuna let out a reverberating laugh.

Gojo rolled his eyes, before storming over to your room. Sukuna quickly moved to standing in front of the door, blocking Gojo from entering.

"Hmm, what's this? You have something to hide, Sukuna? Perhaps . . . drugs? Substances? Or maybe, another girl in your bed?" Gojo rubbed his chin with both his index and thumb simultaneously.

Sukuna scowled at Gojo, "You don't know shit. I do not have another girl in there."

Gojo raised a brow, "Then why would you not want me entering?"

"Because you would wake the girl up, obviously," Geto added, coming to Sukuna's defense.

Sukuna sighed, "Fine, you wanna see so bad? Be my guest." Sukuna turned around and twisted the knob, pushing the door open. He was the first to step in.

Gojo snickered, his eyes landing on your form, "Guess you don't have another girl in here."

"Will you quiet down? You're going to wake her up and she's going to kick you two out. You know she gets more cranky than anyone else," Sukuna whisper-shouted, not helping his cause.

"Tch, she would never kick me out. I'm a literal blessing to be near," everyone rolled their eyes at Gojo's remark.

At this, you rolled over in bed, opening your eyes to glare at the three men in your bedroom.

"I've been awake for the last two hours, you assholes. You guys are so loud that even when Sukuna is wearing headphones I can still hear Gojo screaming his head off. I mean, seriously, do you guys ever close your mouths? For, like, even a second."

The three men all switched their gazes between you, and each other. Geto was the only one sensible enough to apologize to you, before stepping out of the room and leaving you to continue glaring at Sukuna and Gojo, who were now both sweating buckets.

"Baby, I swear, I tried to stop them—"

"Don't 'baby' me," you glowered at your lover.

"Oooh, someone's in trouble," Gojo didn't even attempt to muffle his laughter.

"You: Gojo, get out. Sukuna, you can make your own dinner."

"Wha– babe, please, you're cooking is way—"

"Don't make me say it again."

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #em writes ˎˊ˗

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endless-ineffabilities · 1 month

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chemical override (7)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: again, I'm thanking all of yous for fueling the chemical override fire! Your comments/messages are so sweet and hilarious and wild - just as this story demands <3 Happy reading!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The arrangement you and Ewan share is in place, but jealousy rears its ugly head when another costar takes an interest in you. It isn't Aemond's allegiance that renders Ewan green-eyed, so to speak...

London

Whenever Ewan needs you, you answer the call.

Because, in truth, you need him too. This might not be the most savoury of arrangements; it might not be what you pictured in your head when you thought of getting back together.

But this way, you can have him, and he can have you.

It's a win-win situation. Even if you're not his, and he's not yours, as he so nicely put it.

So you're there when his need arises. Which, as it happens, arises often - intense, wanton, and greedy. He takes you for himself, your body left littered with markings that can only be from his teeth, his fingers, his aching manhood.

Beads of sweat would cloud your vision as the side of your face is pressed to the mattress, your legs bent to give him better access, so that he sinks deeper. He would whisper, - you're mine... you're mine... fuckin' mine, darling - when he leans down to pant roughly in your ear, momentarily forgetting about the one condition of this whole thing.

You're not his. But as he finishes inside of you, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss, you also have it in you to conveniently forget.

Your respective apartments in London set the stage for your trysts. Ewan comes over so often that he's had to use the back entrance, after getting papped once on a foggy Sunday morning, leaving your apartment building in the same clothes that he wore when he entered at midnight.

LATE NIGHT RENDEZVOUS! - on page 6! Game of Thrones spinoff stars can't get enough of each other!

When Ewan said that the whole thing was going to be a secret, he must have failed to account for the near-impossibility of that notion for a celebrity.

What can be kept secret for those in your line of work?

A romance between two young, highly coveted actors will see the light of day eventually, aided by the blinding flashes of papparazzi cameras.

Predictably, your friends catch on and demand to know how you little lovebirds found your way back together, because of course, they always knew you would.

Sadly, you have to burst Phia's bubble when she calls one evening. "We're not back together."

A pause. She mulls it over. "But the papers..."

"I know."

"He's been seeing you... " She claims, her tone growing unsure.

"He has."

"Then what... oh." You can practically picture the realisation coming across her face. Would it be accompanied by distaste or disappointment? Neither is good anyhow.

"We're seeing each other. But, not really, if you get what I mean."

"No!" she exclaims. You can hear shuffling in the background, like she just slammed the book she was reading shut. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"

"That's doesn't mat - "

"It's Ewan's, isn't it?" she answers, confirming her own suspicion. "That little devious bastard."

"It's not his fault," you find yourself shaking your head, then you startle as the buzzer to your apartment gets your attention. The routine is in place - it's the receptionist letting you know that Ewan is in the lobby. Speak of the devil...

Hmm. You walk to the intercom to let him upstairs, thinking of him coming to claim his prize. But he's not the devil - he's my twisted angel, whose heart I broke.

Phia isn't finished. "What do you mean, it's not his fault? If this was his idea, then let me just talk to the lad and screw his bloody head on straight."

You stand by the door, waiting for his arrival, because whenever Ewan needs you, you're there.

You need him too.

"Phi, I... I want this," you reply. "I have to go."

"Babe, we're not done here. You're not getting off easy."

"I know, I know," you smile at her genuine concern. "Maybe you're right, maybe this all wrong." But...

You know you don't have to say it outright. It's there to see, clear as day.

You love him.

She sighs loudly, resigning herself to the truth of her friend's predicament. "You'll figure this out, the both of you."

"Hope so, Phi." The doorbell rings. You rush through your goodbyes, dropping the call with a promise to keep her updated on what she deems a ridiculous situation.

You greet him at the door, and he stands there, with his black hoodie obscuring his face like he's Daemon about to do some nefarious act of sorts. And he just might. He chews on his lip, and smirks as he takes you in.

"Darling," he greets as he lets himself in. He shrugs off his hoodie and drops it in its usual corner, before beckoning for you with his arms reaching.

He runs his fingers through your hair, as he kisses your neck and inhales your scent, purring, " - fuckin' missed you, beautiful - " as his skilled fingers find the hem of your old shirt.

"My darling girl," he says, and you so badly want to hate him, because he's not being fair. Why does he get to act like this matters to him, when he made it clear that this is only so both your needs are met? Why does he look at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat in hope, with those same blue eyes that blazed when he once said he loved you?

How can you make sure that you don't fall back in love with him, when that love was never truly gone?

"Ewan," you moan as he pushes you against a wall, his rough hands kneading your flesh. You help him pull his shirt over his head, and your fingers drag upward along his skin until it finds the silver chain around his neck. You use it to pull him even closer, not a breadth of space between you.

He kisses you, and it's like an anchor finding home.

Yours or his, it matters little.

It nearly bubbles out of the two of you - those forbidden three words - each time his hips slam right into yours. It's almost there, fighting, waiting to be heard. His 'I really do fucking love you', and your 'I'm sorry about everything, about lying, all I ever wanted was you.'

Nearly. If only things were that simple.

He never stays for long afterward. Small talk is shared - about his new film, the ongoing production for yours, the upcoming engagements you both have for season 3 of House of the Dragon. The bloody weather, even.

The holidays have come and gone, and soon the two of you will again have to fly out to work - you, back to Atlanta; him, to LA for the pre-production of his film with Jenna Ortega.

He took on the film after all, and you should be relieved, but it's hard to feel any sense of ease when you know he will have to be with her in a way that he can't be with you. To the rest of the world, soon enough, they will have to play at being together. Your only claim to him rests in between the sheets, in the countless hollow trysts to be shared.

He doesn't reach for you after the deed is done, after his clothes are back in place and his hair is relieved of that post-sex tousle. As if touching you would cast him aflame.

But you feel his eyes linger on you, all the time, especially when you try to avert your gaze.

What is he thinking, you wonder. Who does he see?

On his way out, he has to deal with an obstacle in order to retrieve his hoodie. An adorable one, at that. Your black Bobtail cat, Sansa, nestles comfortably atop it. Her paws grip the cotton material of the hoodie as Ewan tries to pull it away.

"She likes you," you smile at the sight of Ewan gingerly trying to lift Sansa so she doesn't lash out at him. Even though the likelihood to that is low, with Sansa taking so well to Ewan's constant presence, so much so that you sometimes find her meowing at the door waiting for him to come back. The traitor.

"Good girl," he whispers to her, his hoodie almost released from the weight of her fluffy shape. "That's it."

Then he turns to you, smiling as he shrugs his hoodie back on. "I don't think she wants me to leave."

Like mother, like daughter, comes your thought. But when he straightens, and appraises you with a sideways glance, an amused hum escaping his lips, you realise that you said it out loud.

He smirks openly to himself, his ego blossoming. You roll your eyes at him, mumbling, "Oh, give me a break."

He simply shrugs, walking over to the door.

"I'll call you," he calls over his shoulder as a matter of courtesy, but he sounds uncertain, and the question lingers. Please don't say no, his tone practically begs.

How can you ever?

Arms crossed in an attempt to act nonchalant, leaning against the wall, you smile and say, "Try not to miss me too much, Mitchell."

His eyes linger as they always do. "Impossible task," he responds, casually, unaware that he just upended your whole world with his words.

He solidifies the grip he has on you, before he leaves.

And so the fucked up cycle continues.

Los Angeles

A ginger tabby cat slinks around Ewan's ankles as he sits in the director's office, reminding him of your Sansa and the way she would slink in between your bodies the moment she finds an opening, which is usually after the heated roll in the hay.

He smiles to himself on instinct, remembering how you once shared that you wanted to adopt another cat, preferably a Ragdoll, and name him Benjicat.

"Benjicat?" Ewan had asked.

"Yeah," you smiled, as you stroked a purring Sansa between her ears. "Benjicat Blackwood."

Ewan merely blinked, the connection dawning on him, the brilliance of your idea not lost on his supposedly indifferent mind. He could not hold back his warm and appreciative smile as he gazed at you, and for a moment, he pretended that things were back as they were.

He briefly had the idea that, perhaps, you should adopt the future Benjicat together.

Until the bitter thought crossed his mind - he wasn't the one who quashed that possibility first.

In the office in LA, Jenna sits daintily across from him, still aloof and somewhat of a stranger. She had given him a shy smile when she sat down at the table, exchanged pleasantries and surface-level compliments, the works.

Ewan feels nervous, almost ill at ease, and he normally would be able to single out the reasons why. It could be the notion of meeting an acclaimed director and his future costars. Trying not to stumble on his words, messing up their first impression of him. Maybe he had chainsmoked one cigarette too many before the meeting, worsening the anxiety-inducing effect of his staple black coffee with six sugars.

But this is different. He knows the thing he is dreading is when the matter of the PR business will be brought up.

So he doesn't know what emotion comes over him when the director, Autumn de Wilde, lightly remarks in an attempt to break the tension, "So, Ewan, how's your girlfriend?"

"M-my girlfriend?"

"Yeah," she says jovially, "your costar right? It's all over the socials."

"Oh, I love her," Jenna chimes in. "Is she back in England or is she filming somewhere?"

She's not my girlfriend, is what he should say, but he can't push the words out of his mouth. He's not even sure he wants to. After all, that is why he had the idea for the friends with benefits arrangement in the first place - because he can't cope with the fact that you're not his girfriend anymore.

"Mmm, yeah, she's - uhhh - she's filming in Atlanta," Ewan answers, dodging the main question, but not really.

"Well, say hello to her for me," Autumn says. "She's a keeper, huh? What with her being okay with the PR bullshit you will have to do."

Jenna purses her lips apologetically at him, then remarks, "I don't like that Bruce guy. I know some people who worked with him, and they share the sentiment."

Ewan feels lighter, knowing that they're on the same page. He asks tentatively, "That PR thing... is it set in stone or - ?"

Autumn sighs, "Apparently so, kid. But I heard along the grapevine that great ol' Brucey is dealing with some suit and he might have to pull out of the film."

"Some suit?" Ewan asks.

"A lawsuit," Jenna says.

"Oh." What the fuck. "If he pulls out then what that does mean for us?"

"Halle-fuckin-lujah, that's what," Autumn laughs. "More creative control, more logistics control... more happiness for everyone, really."

"Does that mean the PR relationship will be scrapped?" Ewan blurts out, before sheepishly adding to Jenna, "I mean, no offense - "

"None taken," she shakes her head at him. "I never had a liking for that stuff anyway."

"Well, we'd have to consult with the rest of the execs but they're a lot more likely to be conducive to requests," Autumn says.

Ewan feels a rush of relief, one he immediately wishes he can share with you. If you only you stuck it out with him. If only you didn't leave him hanging at the first sign of trouble.

If only you weren't unsure of how you felt about him.

He calls you afterward, because he wants to, the last remaining shred of his resentment towards you be damned.

"Production nearly finished, darling?" He asks, the pretense of holding back from using the term of endearment long since abandoned.

"Mhmm, I've got one more week here in Atlanta, Mitchell."

You've gone back to calling him Mitchell - not baby, love, or anything remotely romantic.

It bothers him, but he's determined not to let it show.

"I've got about a week and a half here still."

"Then we've got season three prep in London, right?"

"Yeah," he mumbles. "I'll see you back there I suppose."

"Okay," you reply, sounding uncertain of what to say next. "Are you... is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he automatically says. "I just thought... maybe I can come see you."

He listens to your steady breathing at the other end, and it calms him. He waits in silence, until you respond with, "Aren't you busy out there, Ewan?"

He is, and he is aware that it makes him seem desperate. It has only been a few weeks since your last rendezvous back in London, and he is supposed to remain nonchalant. Unaffected. This is not supposed to be some kind of lifeline for him. The thought of you should not be what runs through his mind at every waking moment.

He contradicts all of that, when he admits, "I am, but I want to see you anyway. I can fly out for a day and we could - "

"Ewan - "

"I need you."

You sigh deeply, and he pictures the silhouette of your shoulders rising and falling, the pinch in between your brows, the concerned frown your lips take the shape of.

He misses you. Do you miss him too?

"I know," you say. "But I'll see you soon in London, okay?"

That was not the answer he wanted. There are times when you sound dispassionate and he feels like you couldn't give less of a shit about him, and it kills him.

Even though it shouldn't, and this is what he should have expected, after proposing the arrangement.

But there are also times when you give him a spark of hope to cling to.

"Besides," you muse, "we'll soon have to prepare to give the fans what they want. All the love for Aemond and Alyna surely will not be ignored by the writers. I know I'm rooting for them."

Ewan laughs, "I am too."

Aemond and Alyna. You and him. There are fans, and there are fans, and Ewan is proudly a member of the latter.

"Okay, so, I have to head back inside," you say. "I - uhhh - "

"Yeah, darling, I'll see you soon." I miss you.

"Hmm," you respond, stealing his signature line right from his lips.

He stays on the line, unwilling to let you go.

"Mitchell?" you ask.

"Yes, love?"

"I guess you missed me too much after all."

He smiles wistfully, "I guess I did."

London

Production for your film wraps in late February, just in time for the initial preparations for the upcoming season of House of the Dragon.

You arrive back in London a week before the table read, just in time to join the rest of the cast for a mini reunion at Matt's apartment.

A few drinks in, with numerous tales regaled amongst the large group about what everyone has been up to for the past half year, and you realise just how much you missed being with the cast.

They truly are the best bunch of people you could have ever dreamed of working with.

You eventually found yourselves branching off into little groups, with some preparing food in the kitchen, others smoking out in the balcony, and the rest scattered in the expanse of the apartment.

Matt's place is well-decorated for a bachelor pad, with personal knick-knacks at every corner. You note this to him, as you sit on the plush carpet in his living room. Your little half-circle consists of yourself, Matt, Phia, Liv, Bethany, and Tom, all in varying degrees of inebriation, but either of the lads arguably take the cake.

"You see that?" Matt leans close, pointing to the green shelf nestled in the corner. "On the second level right there, is a prop I stole from season one."

"No way," you squint in that direction, unaware that he gives you a good once-over, the admiration in his eyes plain to see.

The others are quick to point it out in typical fashion.

"Now, now, Smithy," Tom quips. "Try not to burn holes in the girl with yer eyes there."

"She's my babe," Phia jokes, winking at you.

"Oh really?" Matt simply leans back on his palms, unaffected. "Not Ewan's?"

"Oop - " Liv's eyes widen like saucers. "Don't even go there, Smithy."

"Why ever not?" Matt shrugs.

"Guys," you shake your head, waving a hand in dismissal. "it's fine. It's... whatever."

"He's not here," Matt says. "We can talk about it."

"Gossip girl over here," Bethany smirks.

Matt was right in pointing out that Ewan is yet to arrive back from the States. Of course, Ewan had given you a call letting you know that he would be spending the night before the table read at your apartment.

But right now, in this moment, you didn't really feel like going through the sordid details of your affair.

"We can talk about it," you say, "but I'd rather not."

Matt laughs, "Okay. But are you or are you not together?"

"Matt," Tom groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in amusement at his mate's boldness.

"Hey, it's a simple question!"

"It is, isn't it?" you shrug, allowing him that, because he is speaking true. It is supposed to be simple. "We're not actually together... but some of you already know - " you shoot Tom and Phia pointed glances " - that we had a thing once, and we may have a thing still, only lesser and more casual." You look around the group, hoping they got the gist, and that no follow-up statements are necessary.

"Hey, I get it," Bethany replies. "It sounds complicated, but it's your business, sweetheart."

You hum gratefully. The others jump on another topic, but Matt slinks closer to you, with the on-brand glint in his eyes. He says, lowly, "That's good, then."

Your mouth parts in pleasant surprise, as you finally take notice of the way he looks at you. "Say that again, Smithy?"

"You heard me," he answers. Smooth. Matt has been known to be the resident casanova of the cast, with his undeniable charm on and off set. He can get along with absolutely anyone, and this includes the array of women who get pulled in by his charisma.

It's lost on you why he would now set his sights on you, but you can't deny that you enjoy the attention.

Fabien suddenly comes into view with that digital camera of his pointed towards your group. He snaps one of Tom whose raised bottle of beer half covers his smirking face. Then he turns to you and Matt, saying, "Give papa a smile, kids!"

Matt quickly slings an arm around you, making you lean against him. He coolly points to the camera, posing like he usually does. You smile widely, your brain in a pleasant daze from the alcohol, the banter, and the alluring scent of Matt's perfume.

"Send me a copy of that, Fabs," Matt comments after. Fabien will probably post the photo on his usual Instagram slideshow, but Matt happily stays off the socials.

"Gonna get it framed?" you joke, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

"Oh, you bet," he winks at you, making you swallow nervously. Speaking to him now, in this way, you realise just how easily the Matt Smith is able to get with the ladies. Charm practically oozes off of him.

And Daemon was your original favourite, after all.

Fabien and Matt walk you and Phia back to your apartments in the wee hours of the morning. Though your neighbourhood was only 5 minutes away, the lads gallantly insisted that they wouldn't let you go without an escort.

Your group weaves its way through the empty streets of London, chatting and laughing away, the effects of the alcohol yet to wear off. At some point, Matt wraps an arm around you, and you let him keep it that way.

You have grown fond of him, having spent a lot of time with him during filming. And, well, you needed to keep your balance anyway.

Not to mention, he offers a pleasant distraction from having to yearn all the damn time for what you once had with Ewan.

Fabien and Phia walk ahead to her nearby apartment, so you're left with Matt in front of your building.

"We'll be spending a lot more time together this season, fortunately," he says.

"That's kind of a given," you laugh. "Alyna's never going to drop her oath to the Queen."

"And the King."

"Consort," you finish for him.

He laughs freely, shaking his head, before his expression turns a bit serious. He dips his face closer to yours, whispering, "And in real life? Is Alyna sticking with Aemond?"

That stumps you. Matt's blue eyes are indeed arresting, but one mention of Aemond is enough to bring you back into the Ewan Mitchell spiral.

But... you're not his.

You shrug in response, smiling softly, "I guess some things just aren't meant to be."

You become convinced that the universe must be testing you because your phone buzzes in that moment, revealing an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye.

Matt spots it easily, challenging you with, "So what then, beautiful? Are you going to answer the call?"

It buzzes once more, and another time, before you press decline.

Matt doesn't give you the time to regret your decision. He swoops down and plants a soft kiss at the corner of your lips. Nothing too much, but just enough to toe the line of simply being friendly.

"I - I better head inside - " you stammer, your face heating up.

"You better."

"I'll see you soon, Smithy."

He nods, "See you soon, my Alyna."

Ewan can hardly focus on the script in front of him. He struggles to get his lines out efficiently during the table read, and he hopes that no one else notices.

It would be a miracle if you actually take notice of him, with Matt stealing your attention as he sits to your right.

The cast and crew are positioned around the room, and you just happened to be directly across Ewan, right in his line of sight. He would revel in it, but not now, with Matt leaning in once in a while and whispering something in your ear that makes you softly giggle.

How unprofessional. Whatever he is telling you, it sure must be fucking fascinating.

He isn't entirely oblivious of your growing closeness with Matt. He saw the photos of the two of you walking the streets of London, snug against each other, but he chose not to think much of it. After all, how many times has Matt been pictured with an arm wrapped around a costar? That is just how he is. Open and friendly.

Ewan had not been inclined to think it meant something more in your case.

"Ewan," he hears Tom sharply whisper to his left. "It's your line."

The room is silent in anticipation, eager to get on with the script. You lock eyes with him and offer an encouraging smile, and he is just about to reciprocate, but then he notices Matt's arm resting on the back of your seat.

Like he has laid a claim on you.

Ewan ends up grumbling out his lines, lacking the vulnerability that Aemond is meant to be displaying in that scene.

His keeps his expression stoic, trying to do his best to accomplish the task at hand. A tiny consolation is that the script to season three seems to be marginally better than that for the previous season.

There is not a single scene of Aemond and Alyna thus far, but the script is littered with those of Daemon and Alyna. Which makes complete sense, since they're fighting for the same cause, and Daemon has been somewhat of a mentor to the young Alyna.

Ewan liked their dynamic, being a fan of both the characters, and their real-life counterparts. But the scene that is playing out before him may be enough to sway his bias to the contrary.

Daemon and Alyna. You and Matt.

Ewan scoffs to himself, forgetting where he is for a moment. Tom side-eyes his weird behaviour, thinking, the lad must have left his marbles back in America.

Ewan doesn't notice. His thoughts race a mile a minute - Do the writers not see the potential goldmine they've got with the Aemond and Alyna dynamic? Do they not know how crazy it would drive the fanbase?

Is Matt unaware that it was his name - Ewan's, and no one else's - that you were screaming last night?

Your sputtered little pants of his name rise from his memory, your breathing ragged by the time he finished making love to you the third round in the same night.

That... that was his.

You are -

"Mate," Tom clasps him on the shoulder, "drink some water, yeah? You look bloody flushed."

Ewan hums gratefully, nodding once, shaking the image of you from his mind.

After all, he wears his Adidas joggers today, and the thin material would not be able to conceal it if he ended up having a raging hard-on, in front of everyone during the damn table read.

When another scene of Daemon and Alyna comes on, with you and Matt eagerly reciting your lines to each other, the boyish lust that Ewan entertained essentially dies.

He purses his lips, a ghost of a smile, ever the good and supportive costar.

He raises his head to distract himself by looking around the table, eventually locking eyes with Phia, who had already been looking at him strangely.

You okay? she mouths.

His head snaps toward the sound of your laughter before he could respond.

"Shoot, sorry," you smile, apparently having read the wrong line. Everyone at the table waves it off, a cacophony of 'it's alright' and 'you got this' heard around the room.

When you finish the rather long, drawn-out speech Alyna makes, there is an intermission before the next scene.

People begin turning to each other to make comments, some stand to stretch their legs. Then Ewan hears it - "How'd I do, Smithy?" followed by "Not too shabby, my Alyna."

His Alyna?

Ewan flips the bloody table over in his mind.

Ewan calls you the following night, under the pretense of the arrangement.

In truth, he'd take anything. He could sit on your couch and watch paint dry, if it meant being around you.

"Not tonight, Ewan," you say, and his heart sinks.

"Why not?" he asks, uncaring about how downright needy he sounds.

"Uhhhm, I have a friend over," you reveal.

"Phia? I'm sure she'll understand."

"Oh, come on, Ewan. It's not Phia, and even if it was, I wouldn't just send her away."

"Who then?" he insists, but some part of him already knows the answer.

"Fabien," you say, "and Matt. But Fabien already left to go see Bella, so it's just - "

"You and Matt, huh," he spits bitterly. For an actor, he sure is unable to mask his emotions.

"What are you insinuating? We're friends. You're his friend too, Ewan."

"Hmm," his grip on his phone tightens, "you seem a lot closer than friends to me."

"You're being ridiculous," you scoff. "I would ask you to still come over if you want to hang out with us but not if you're being this unpleasant."

"Forget it," he practically snaps, immediately regretting his tone, "let me know when you're less occupied."

"Ewan - "

"It's okay, darling," he cuts you off, wanting to be done with the conversation already. "I'll come see you before the cast shoot." He refers to the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot the entire cast is slated to do in the coming week, the first offering of season three promo.

"Okay," you exhale, then say, "Sansa misses you."

That earns a weak smile out of him. If only her owner could say that she misses him too. "Does she?"

"Mhmm," you respond, and he hears the smile in your voice, "so... so you better come over soon or she might start clawing at the door."

Matt makes his presence known, his voice becoming audible as he walks into the room where you are, asking, "You alright, love?"

"Ewan, I gotta go," you say in a rush.

"Okay," he sighs in defeat. He drops his phone on the couch, then paces around his apartment, needing to get the picture of you and Matt canoodling out of his mind.

He audibly groans. Why must he torture himself so? If you say that you and Matt are just friends, then that must be the case.

My Alyna, Matt had called you.

In a sudden flash of madness or genius, Ewan picks up his phone and redownloads a certain wretched app.

It takes less than a minute, and soon he finds himself back in the mostly uncharted waters of Instagram. Careful not to accidentally like any post as he had before, he makes his way to the section that lets him create a new post.

Scrolling through his photo gallery, it doesn't take long before he finds one to his liking.

No editing is needed. He knows that the image and its subjects need no addition.

In his eyes, you are perfect as you are.

That night marks Ewan's second ever official post on his Instagram, yet again sending the entire fandom in a wild tailspin.

It's a picture of you sitting on top of your bed, hair slightly dishevelled, and with an old pyjama shirt on. Sansa is cradled on your bare thighs, and a smile graces your face as you pet her dotingly. The angle is from the side, where Ewan lay on his designated part of your bed, surreptitiously taking the picture.

The morning light cast a soft glow on your face, and the entire scene had made Ewan wish he never had to leave.

Under the post, reads the caption -

My Alyna.

💌 next chapter

🎧 series mixtape

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @sprinklesprinkle888 (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

In part 8 - the EW photoshoot, more season three prep, and big news regarding Ewan's upcoming film!

I'm taking all your amazing ideas into account, and you'll continue to see smatterings of them in this story.

As always, I can't wait to talk with yous in the comments! Which couple is your endgame? <3

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #chemical override #aemond targaryen x reader

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princeoftheeternalbog · 8 months

Text

Really sleepy and so like sleeping with you headcannons lets go

I'm not sure half of these are even on the same vibe so uhm like do with that what you will, this is so long and it's atrocious but oh well. Also sorry if its ooc😻

I think maybe one line of suggestive in Franky's and Namis.

I feel like i forgot someone tbh..

Luffy

Sleeps anywhere and everywhere but sleeps better and longer next to you. Thus he is obsessed with sleeping with you and whenever he wants to sleep now you have no choice you must take sleep too. He snores and drools but that's kind of a win because then he doesn't care if you do yk? Loves taking naps with you and it's a way he likes to connect with you. Always kisses you before you sleep and after you wake up. He's so comfortable to lie next to because he's so squishy and he holds you in like every way possible because he doesn't have to worry about circulation being cut off or anything.

Zoro

Again he will sleep literally anywhere. He sleeps like a log but somehow you are the only person able to wake him up, Robin theorises it's his observation haki keeping an eye on you but whatever it is you are Zoros designated alarm clock. However, there is about a 30% chance that when you wake him up, he will just snatch you to cuddle and go back to sleep. You cannot escape his hold and if you keep trying to wake him up he'll just bite you(gently) idk he's feral. Depends on his schedule if he's comfortable or not, usually when he's bulking up he's squishier and it's nice to cushion your head on.

Sanji

Never naps and it's so alarming. How does he survive on like 6 hours everyday we will never know. Anyways he's very clingy when he's sleepy but in like a 'I don't want to bother you so I'll just sit over here looking really forlorn', just take the man to bed. Is somehow so comfy to sleep with it's actually annoying because after a certain point you just can't sleep alone anymore. Always tucks you in if you don't get up at the same time as him and he'll leave little snacks and drinks on your bedside table for when you do wake up. Sanji has a more lean muscly build so it's more comfortable to have him lie on top of you and he is not complaining in the slightest.

Nami

Loves cuddling in the winter, hates it in the summer. She's really sensitive to the temperature yk it's that innate sense of the weather, so when it's hot she is hot. But she really likes being able to touch you, so after a certain point she just forces franky to install(invent) air conditioning and it makes the summer so much more bearable. After this there's no escape, you will be cuddling every night (unless boundaries yk). She always tries to convince you stay in bed in the morning...and it always works. She's very persuasive okay. Lets you use her as a pillow, like her chest or thighs or tummy, she just wants to be next to you.

Usopp

Really shy about sleeping with you the first time. Only the first time. After that well lets just say you created a monster. He's really good at telling when you need a nap, especially when you won't admit it. He just subtly ushers you to a comfy spot and then oh what a surprise your eyes are getting really heavy and hm Usopp wouldn't mind if you leant on him for a bit and then snoreville. He thinks you're so pretty when you're sleeping because you look so peaceful and relaxed, so even if he's not tired he will always agree to a nap. He will carry you to bed. And he's so casual about it too, I guess because you're not like watching him directly so he's just like really chill.

Robin

Actually has a nap schedule with her sleep schedule, she usually takes a very short one after lunch because her power can be quite draining and so once you find this out it's just a big cuddle session which she loves. She tends to keep you to a sleep schedule too but she won't force you if you are really insistent on staying up, but she will say I told you so when you're grumpy and feel sick the next day. So lovely to sleep with, she barely moves, never hogs the blanket, doesn't snore and somehow always stays very cool even in the summer. She also always makes sure you get into bed safely if you're drunk or ill, even if she is too, she really cares about you.

Franky

I won't lie...he builds himself an entire like cushion add-on thing so you can comfortably sleep next to him. He looks like a giant marshmallow man it's so funny. But also it's so cute because he takes your comfort so seriously and he runs multiple tests to make sure it's the absolute comfiest he can be for you. Loves naps but absolutely adores actual bedtime because of the whole like rituals and because he knows he doesn't have to get up in like an hour. Sometimes he will seriously overwork into the night, but on those occasions it's fairly easy to coax him to bed(😚). Also he wears one of those stupid scrooge hats tbh. And yes he says super in his sleep.

Brook

Really insecure about sleeping together because he thinks he'll be uncomfortable to lie next to or cuddle :(. On the other hand, you're also really worried because you don't want to accidentally hurt him while he's asleep, so for the first few months you sleep in beds that are close enough to hold hands instead. Eventually when you both become comfortable with the idea, you end up sleeping together almost every night and you occasionally nap together too. He wears really soft padded pajamas to make sure you're comfy. It's surprisingly more comfy to sleep next to him than you thought it would be.

I won't lie sometimes you do shit yourself waking up and seeing a skeleton.

Jinbei

So responsible, absolutely will stop you from napping if it's too close to bedtime. He knows sleep is important but he also knows a routine is important...and he can't bear watching you sleep alone so if you mess up your schedule then you're messing up his. This also works for if you try to stay up late too, he'll straight up snatch you off the ground and just carry you to bed no matter how much you complain. Really good cuddler, like really good. He always knows how much pressure to use while holding you and when you want more or less contact, knows when you need extra blankets, when you want to sleep in a hammock instead of a bed. He's got a sixth sense for your sleeping habits (read: he's desperately in love with you).

Law

Really grumpy about it. And really shy. Also he's a hypocrite, he'll stay up working till early hours of the morning but if you dare even try he's stood there staring at you like the mf eyes of notre dame. He always wants to cuddle but absolutely despises asking so again he just stares, you can always tell though because his ears go really red. Once you're in the bed though he's suddenly mr suave i will arrange everything, he will literally pick you up to manoeuvre you both into a better sleeping position and doesn't even bat an eye. He will nap but you have to trick him into it, he secretly loves it and lets you do it even when he knows what's happening.

Kidd

Needs like 15 million blankets to sleep. Uses one of said 15 million blankets to wrap you up like a burrito if you refuse to come sleep/nap with him. But actually it kinda does hurt his feelings so you can make up for it by playing with his hair until he falls asleep. Loves napping, he's like an overgrown cat and he'll sleep literally anywhere. But if it's anywhere other than his or yours (or killers) room he somehow? manages? to scowl? in his sleep? Yeah I don't know but it just stops his crew from messing with him because he looks so angry. Like Zoro he will literally just snatch you if you're in his vicinity, like you walk past for two seconds and then suddenly your vision flips and you're just stuck in this iron grip. He won't let you go and the crew just walk past you too.

Killer

You literally don't sleep together until you've been dating for like a fucking year. He really values his privacy and you really respect it which culminates in neither of you asking for such a long time that you both forget its a common couple thing. Until someone asks why you don't sleep together and then you guys are like huh idk and then that's the day you finally do. He's a good cuddler but he's a blanket hogger and you have to braid his hair before bed or it will end up in your mouth. On the plus side, he will make and leave breakfast or coffee (or anything you want) on your bedside table if he wakes up first. Also he always picks the best bedsheets and eventually buys two quilts so you can at least have some blanket when he snatches it all.

Ace

Naturally runs like a furnance and is hell to sleep next to in the summer. But he gets really grumpy if you dont sleep next to him so the crew make you suck it up I'm sorry. Literally you're like clawing at the walls as they throw you in and lock the door. Anyways he's a really good cuddler and so comfy to sleep with, and he always takes naps with his head in your lap. He loves to have you sleep on him too because he loves to look at your face and stroke you hair, idk he likes being slow with you even though he's really energetic. Being naturally sleepy and like a little radiator also tends to make the people around him sleepy so you two are banned from working next to each other because you both just end up napping.

Marco

He doesn't sleep a lot because well he doesn't really need to. But he adores sleeping with you. It's one of his like favourite 'bonding' activities, especially if you haven't been able to be alone for a while, he just loves being that close and the intimacy of sleeping in each others beds. On another note he's obsessed with making your bed really comfy because as a doctor he knows sleep hygiene is important and as a bird...well yk...nest. He's not shy about it but don't tease him because it will hurt his feelings and he won't tell you to save your feelings, beautiful sweet man that he is. LOVES a good nap/cuddle especially in the winter, if you both have spare time he just bundles you both in a big fluffy blanket and just exists with you for a bit.

Izou

He is surprisingly a really undignified sleeper, which is why you don't sleep in the same room for months when you first get together😭. When you finally do, you wake up with his arm in your face, his hair is everywhere, there's a pillow across the room, the blanket is somehow under the bed, you're just like wtf how. And Izou is just (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿◡⁠`⁠). But he gets better over time because his brain becomes more aware of your presence as you become more important to him and then bedtime settles into comfy chaos. Pillows still end up everywhere but he is now your cushion so you don't really care. He doesn't really nap anywhere that's not his room but if you do then he carries you to bed :).

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tigerpeachs · 1 year

Text

Bully - Ryomen Sukuna

-`ღ´- tags: 18+, fem reader, pet name usage, grinding, jealousy, non con, nerd/dork, cum shot, choking, nipple play, fingering, multiple orgasms, pwp, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, praise

-`ღ´- wc: 4.2K

-`ღ´- a/n: this is sort of part two of a previous work I did a while back. There's a bit of reader x itadori here, but it mainly focuses on Suku ₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚✧ ﾟ.

-`ღ´- synopsis: After avoiding Sukuna for almost a full year, he finally gets you alone in a hot tub. He does his best to make up for lost time.

It was your final year of college. It took you a long time to get here. Painful all-nighters and tough conditioning sessions. From years of academia and athleticism, you’d like to say you were different now. You were more confident, funnier, and more social, unlike the shy girl who was just thankful she wasn’t riding the bench all semester. You were no longer the small underclassmen stuck with doing post-game jersey pick-ups and moving goals all by yourself. You even made a few friends! Maki and Nobara helped you express yourself better and build your confidence.

There was one event that kicked off the semester, Gojo Satoru’s back-to-school pool party. It was set late enough that all students were back on campus, and able to attend the debauchery, but also early enough that there were no concerns about assignments, games, and practices. Everyone was still high off the summer with warm weather prickling at their skin.

The main allure that brought you to such an event took form in a pretty pink haircut and a bright toothy grin. Itadori Yuuji. You’ve been seeing him… maybe even dating by former terms instead of what Nobara called a mutual situationship or talking stage or whatever trendy term she blanketed over your dynamic with him. The summer was filled with Itadori pressed against your side during movie nights and screaming your name at your summer league games. Things were new. Things are different now.

You looked down at the mixed jungle juice swishing in your red solo cup. Maki was arm-wrestling men on the island counter while Nobara forced bottles into the mouths of those who lost against her. You could hear their girlish screams and cheers as they popped open another bottle on the table, making shots for the losers. You couldn’t help but laugh as another man sputtered and coughed out from the taste of Pink Whitney.

“What’re you giggling about over there?” You hear a sweet voice call out. You picked your head up noticing Itadori, looking as handsome as ever. You looked at him through your lashes, wondering if it was the heat of the room or just your skin warming up. You could feel your skin flush and the words die at the tip of your tongue as you took in the sight of him. His muscles pressed through his shirt, and he looked like he did his hair for once, the crazy pattern manipulated in a way that fit him perfectly.

“Nothing,” You quickly comment, realizing you must have left some awkward pause in the air.

“Mmmmhm. I don’t believe you.” He leans against the same counter as you, crossing his arms, biceps bulging and he comes close to you. He looks at the scene in front of you both. Maki slams back another cup as she gets ready to arm wrestle Todou. The large male made sure to roll his sleeve up, making a show of each intricate rigid muscle he owned. He rolled his shoulders back and cracked his head, smirking as he slammed his arm down on the island.

“Who do you have your money on?” You jump. Itadori had leaned down, whispering directly in your ear. When you look over at him, he doesn't pull away. His pink lips and golden eyes looked more tantalizing up close. A weird feeling twisted in your stomach, and it wasn’t the absurdly sweet jungle juice made.

“Maki,” You say after swallowing down more of the alcohol mix.

“You really think she can win?” He asks, uncrossing his arm. Both of them rest on the counter, one on free counter space, and the other behind your back, making you move closer to him.

You sat silent for a second.

“Isn’t that a little sexist? to assume she won't win?” You accuse. Yuuji quickly looks down at you, trying to recover from the question.

“N-no, I mean Todou is just a bigger person.” He tries to reason with you but now you got him. A smile graces your face as he begins to blush and stutter about.

“I mean,” You turn to him, not caring that you were basically pinned to his hip. You gently grab at his shirt, directly above his belt line, hoping it would ground you. “It’s not about the size of a person, but more so the technique…” Your eyes hold his gaze, even though your heart rattled as you did so. “Right?”

He takes a gulp as your body rubs slightly against his. The cup you held was pinned against your chest and his, the only cooling material between the two of you. Before he can rattle off a response, there are cheers as Maki is lifted into the air by Yuuta and Toge. You look back at the sight, laughing with joy as Nobara forces Todou to chug from a “bitch cup”.

“Yuuji!” A voice calls out, you quickly step back, looking up at his best friend, Megumi. He points out back to where the party continues to flow. There are screams as girls are splashed by men jumping in the pool. Itadori’s hand that rested behind you now rests against your hip for a second. “Your brother is looking for you,” He states before leaning down to share hugs with Nobara and Maki.

Itadori sucks at his teeth, running his thumb over the seam of your skirt. He looks down at you and your once confident state has now reverted back to shyness. The mention of Sukuna made your heart thump in your chest and your hand burn. Your head throbbed as images flashed across your eyes whenever they shut for a second.

“Fuck,” he hissed, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Your body trembled as you gripped him slightly harder. Sukuna ran his nose against your cheek before pressing chaste kisses against your jawline. “So good baby, gonna make me cum.”

Itadori said your name before asking, “Do you want to come with me? I’m sure it’s something dumb.” He pulls you gently but you don’t give in. Instead, you look up at him with worried eyes and he takes that as you not wanting to be without him. He thinks for a minute as he continues to rub small circles into the side of your hip. You swish your cup around, preparing to chug the remains if necessary to avoid this icky feeling.

“Satoru has an in-ground hot tub gated in the back. Do you wanna wait there for me?” You look up at him with hopeful eyes. If you went there, you wouldn’t have to worry about running into Sukuna.

“I don’t have a swimsuit.” You whisper, hoping no one else would hear your conversation as though you weren’t inside a large house party. He smiles down at you and leans in a little closer so he can whisper in your ear.

“That’s okay, I don’t either, so we can just go in our underwear.” You blush at his statement but either from the need to be away or from the surge of alcohol courage in your system, you nod your head.

“Atta girl!” Yuuji grabs your free hand, twirling you around, then using the motion to pull you into him. “The code is all ones!” He exclaims before he starts walking back to Megumi. “I’ll be there soon!”

And so, you chug the rest of your drink, opting to grab a smooth seltzer from the fridge before you walk back to the hot tub. You try your best to look sober as you walk over to the gated hot tub, hoping not to gain attention, or worse, show everyone you’re a sloppy drunk.

As you get in, you decide not to relock the gate, instead opting to remove your top and skirt before slipping out of your shoes. You almost stumble as you move toward the hot tub. You press a few buttons, unsure of what they all do, but still enjoy the rush of heat and jets pressing against your skin. You nervously drink the seltzer, wishing you took a shot for confidence before you came all the way out here.

As time passes, your eyes fall shut, allowing your head to lull over the side of the relaxing machine. A second turns into a minute, turns into a while. You knew Itadori should’ve been back at this point, and you start to feel pangs of regret. What if he just wanted to get rid of you? What if he forgot about you and was with someone else already?

Just as you tried to shake away your thoughts, you heard someone else slip into the water. You picked your head up, and put a smile on your face, ready to see and hear Itadori apologize for being late. Instead, a low whistle meets your ears before you can open your eyes.

Sitting across from you, sprawled out in all his glory, is none-other than the man you were trying to avoid. He wore an unamused look on his face, but regardless, his eyes ran up and down your frame, causing you to cover yourself with your arms. You feel small underneath his predatory gaze. You haven’t spoken to him since that event. You came to practice early and left late. You stopped studying around campus, instead opting to stay in your room to do work. You even made excuses on why you couldn’t go over to Itadori’s place or go to his games. A cocky smirk falls on his face.

“Have you been avoiding me, doll?” You didn’t answer, instead wondering if Itadori would show up and miraculously make Sukuna leave. Seeing him had your stomach twisting in ways the alcohol didn��t. You muttered something under your breath bringing your knees up as if it would make you feel safer. Thoughts of that night crawl back to the forefront of your mind.

Sukuna pulled his cock out, hard, dripping, and quickly grabbed your wrist. Your eyes widened as he placed your hand around his hard shaft. A soft grunt fell from his lips as he bent over you.

“Too scared to speak to me or something?” He moves in causing you to put your hand up against his thick chest, hoping to stop him from coming closer. His scent - his pheromones cut through your nostrils, and it oddly makes your mouth water and skin flush. The feeling of his shaft moving in the palm of your hands comes back to you, causing you to tense and compare it to the strong expanse of his chest. The way they’re both so smooth yet hard, rigid even.

He can see how nervous you look. The meek girl from last year is still in there. You may have changed your hair, worn sexier clothing, and even flirted with other men, but he knew you. He knew that you were still a nervous wreck of a girl who stuttered when she spoke, who analyzed the whole room before talking, who gets scared when her panties get wet. Probably still hasn’t even fingered herself open yet, and you’re in college? Pathetic.

You fall silent as Sukuna palms your waist under the water. His fingers slip over the fabric of your panties, moving upwards to hold your waist. You gasp at the speed of his movement. He manhandles you over his waist and sets you down on his pelvis. You jump as you feel something slot itself against your core.

“Now why have you been avoiding me, Squirt? Didn’t I tell you to text me?” You brace yourself against his broad shoulders as he whines your hips slowly. The movement causes your core to drag across his covered bulge. “After you made me cum in your hand, I wanted to see how ruined you were. Wanted to see that pretty face all confused.” Your eyebrows scrunched together at the fire rushing up your loins. The pit of your stomach felt heavy, like when Itadori would hold you close or look at you a certain way.

“I- That’s… That’s disgusting!” You finally whimper while he continued to use your body at his own will.

“Mmmhm. If it’s so disgusting,” He forces you to lean forward, propping your ass up out of the water. His fingers easily find your wet sopping hole, shoving your panties to the side to run against your opening. “Then why are you so wet?”

Your skin turned rosy at the words.

Why?

You didn’t know… You felt betrayed by your body, letting out soft angelic sounds while the demon of a man played and toyed with your body. Sukuna tensed his jaw at the sound. He wonders if his brother got to indulge in hearing you even though he told the whole damn school you were off limits. His. Only his.

He felt your nails dig into his skin as he slipped one finger inside your gummy walls. The intrusion caught you off guard. You pressed your body forward, trying to avoid the foreign sensation. It cause his finger to slide slightly out of your entrance, but he pressed forward. Sukuna curled his finger, rubbing that spongy spot inside of you. You whimpered in his ear, involuntarily twitching your hips at each movement. Your heart was racing, pounding in your chest as he pressed another finger inside.

“Stop,” You whined, pressing closer to him to avoid the foreign feelings festering inside of you. Your mouth hung open as the digits swirled and intentionally pressed against your walls. Sukuna gripped your hip, trying to stabilize you. He would never admit it, but watching you make a mess on his hand, unsure of yourself or what to do, did things to him. He ached for you. His cock throbbed in tandem with your pulsing walls.

He pressed his tongue out against your shoulder, biting against the soft skin. Your hand gripped his hair, trying to yank him back, only eliciting a groan and smirk from him.

“You’re being rowdier than last time.” You couldn't help but moan as he began to stroke your clit. You could feel your juices slip out of you, only to feel obscene when Sukuna pressed them back in. “And you’re so sensitive,” His words were lost on you.

You tried to sit up, bracing yourself against his shoulders in order to leverage yourself. Pleasure flushed through your system as you lifted your hips up and down his fingers, using him to get yourself off. Just as he did to you. He watched with half lidded eyes, grabbing and leading your pace by holding onto the fat of your ass. He leaned forward, nipping and biting at your breast, still covered by the thin excuse of a bra you wore tonight.

Something felt like it was going to snap inside of you. Sukuna pulled your head down, crashing your lips against his. Your kiss was sloppy and unnatural, but his was so confident and demanding. His lips slid against yours, teasing his tongue against the seam while he curled his fingers once more. The sensitive skin on your lips felt tingly from his attention on them.

Your stomach lurched, abs tightening up, body becoming rigid as a flush of nerves tingle up and down your spine. You pressed forward into Sukuna, biting down harshly at his neck while groaning. Your orgasm had your muscles shaking as they fought each contraction that rolled through. Sukuna groaned out from your harsh mannerisms but you didn’t care.

Everything felt heightened. The fabric against your nipples felt too sensitive. The breath coming out of you felt too heavy. Your eyes watered. Tears fell as you blinked a few times for clarity. Your throat felt dry and your body felt like putty. You didn’t oppose as Sukuna bent you over the edge of the hot tub. His hands played with your ass, groping and squeezing the material. He spread your folds open, admiring your pink walls that still spasmed from how well he finger fucked you. You shied away from his gaze, causing you to press away, still too sensitive from your early orgasm.

He did another low whistle and ran his fingers over the seams of your panties.

“Oi, you still with me, Squirt?” You nodded slowly, not sure what he meant by that. The hot water flushing around your skin kept you warm as the cool air bit at your exposed skin. You shut your eyes, taking deep breaths, hoping the worst was over.

Sukuna let you have your time, he slipped his bottoms over his cock, letting it slap against his abdomen. He grabbed at your hips. You gasp as you tug back against his cock, slick folds parting for his thick veiny cock to rub against you. The man growled from how much cum and slick had slipped out of you. You were coating his cock in your essence, flooding it with your juices with every rut of your hips.

You let out little moans, feeling his tip catch on your entrance. You don’t want Sukuna. You don’t care how many women would die to be in your spot. You don’t care about the amount of men that want to be him. You hate the damn brute. He left such nasty images in your head from the last time he messed with you. You hate how…

His fat leaking tip slapped right against your twitching entrance. He pressed in just slightly, moaning at how your walls worked to accommodate his thick tip.

…You hate how…

How good this fucking felt.

You gritted your teeth as he continued to press in. You hunched your back over, trying to run from the burning feeling. It felt like he was splitting you open for Christ’s sake. You held tight to the edge of the hot tub, skin losing color from your grip. He bottoms out, lulling his head back from how tight and warm you are. Your cunt is quivering around him, begging him to cum right inside that little nerd body of yours. He palms at your ass and hips, gritting his teeth.

He doesn’t move at first. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, showing some restraint. Waiting for your body to accept him. You take some time to relax your back, and he takes that as the move to rock forward. His blunt tip rubbed against your cervix, fat veins pressing against your spot. You whined as he rocked an inch out and back in.

“Aaatta girl” He calls out to you, making you keen at the words. Nerds like you loved getting praise. Perfect 100’s. Amazing score marks. All fucking A’s on a report card. He leans over to get close to you. Your back is arched and he maneuvers your hair over to one side so it’s not in the way. He speaks in a sultry tone, low in your ear “I knew you could take cock well.”

You can't help but clench down at his words. You grit your teeth as he grinds into your pussy, sliding his cock against your walls. You moan as he angels his hips in circular motions, dragging his cock perfectly over that spongy spot inside of you. He grabs at your hair, tugging your head back, forcing your moans to flow out properly.

“Good fucking girl,” He groans. His eyes roll back as you continue to suck him back in. Every time he pulls out, your pussy works him back in. He knows that cunt wants to make a home for his dick. Yeah. Your pussy was made for him.

Sukuna stops with the slow grinding, preferring now to rail you like the slut you try to be now. He smirks as he looks down, changing pace. He doesn’t give a warning. You cry out as he pounds into you at a brutal pace. It hurt. It hurt but it felt so fucking good. Little “Ah, ah, ah, ah’s” fell from your lips. He couldn’t decide what looked better, the sight of your ass recoiling against his pelvis, only to leave a white streaky mess when he pulled out, or the cock drunk look in your rolled back eyes with your lips pink and swollen from his bruising kiss earlier.

He’s made you like this. No one else. No one, not even his damn brother, could come close to making you feel this way. The jealous thought of anyone even trying made Sukuna tense his jaw. He should've taken you from the front for your first time, that way he’d never forget the look on your face when you came on cock for the first time.

He grabs at your waist, forcing you to meet his thrust. Your insides feel stirred up, your stomach feels full, veins rushing with excitement. You panted between the other little sounds you made, opting to close your eyes. The sensations flooded your system more with no visual context. You could feel Sukuna throbbing inside of you. You could feel your pussy tingling with every thrust. Your clit felt swollen and throbbed whenever his balls would slap aggressively against them. You were gonna cum soon.

Sukuna reached below and pulled your bra down, making your tits hang over the fabric. The way they bounced while your nipples were so sensitive had you curling your toes for relief.

“This pussy is like a fucking dream,” He rasp, pulling out with hopes of not blowing his load too fast. The sight of your clenching cunt leaking, aching for something inside of it, it sent his mind reeling. He slotted his dick over your ass, only to feel your hips lift, trying to get him back in. Chasing that feeling from earlier.

Have you no shame? Aren’t you the one who worked so hard to avoid him? Now you’re bent over a hot tub at one of the biggest parties of the year. Your cunt is open for anyone to see, almost begging for someone to fill it. You can’t even admit how much you want it, want him, but here you are trying to cum on his dick.

He smacks the fat of your ass, lining himself back up.

Who knew a nerd could be such a slut?

Sukuna pressed in again, leaning over and reaching for your throat. He forced you up and back. One of your hands followed his, hoping for mercy, while the other tried to gain some leverage by pushing you up from the hot tub. He continued his rapid bruising pace, watching your body shake with each thrust. Sukuna dropped his gaze to your tits and lifted his hand to play with your nipple, squeezing and pulling it while you moaned.

“You gonna cum?” The man asks, pressing his fingers harder against the side of your neck. You felt drugged. From the lack of blood flow to the brain, to the heat, the alcohol in your system , and the cock destroying your insides.

“Hnnn!” You let out. Sukuna turned you to face him. You were tightening up and clamping, unaware of what was sure to be your demise. You opened your mouth, pressing your tongue out, expecting his. Sukuna’s skin flushed and he rushed for his tongue to meet yours in a sloppy kiss. His hand dropped to rub at your sensitive clit, forcing you to teeter over the edge.

Your scream came out muffled against Sukuna’s tongue. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you tried to pull away from his thrust. Sukuna didn’t relent, selfishly chasing his release as well. You fell forward and he followed. You pulled away from his kiss, gasping out as your orgasm started to become painful in its persistence. You tried to press a hand back to stop him, but Sukuna only grabbed it.

The way you looked back at him, fucked out, hot, needy, sore from the way he fucked you. You pretty pink lips whimpered out his name. “R-Ryo,” You cried, trying to escape his intense thrust. You intertwined your hand with his, clasping it tightly with hopes that it would ease up.

That is what made him cum.

Sukuna shoved your hips forward, slipping his cock out. He grabbed at his cock and forced you to stay still as he shot his cum over your ass. Seed spilled over your cheeks, drizzling towards the arch in your back and down over your folds. The sticky wet feeling made you shake in his arms.

Both of you were breathless from the altercation. The man leaned over, pressing kisses onto your spine and shoulder. The time spent silently in each other's arms felt relaxing. Your muscles began to relax, making you go slack against the edge of the hot tub. Sukuna watched your body intently, before resting his head against your shoulder plane. He hummed as his cock softened against your cunt, still enjoying the feeling of your swollen sex.

“Don’t ever avoid me again, nerd.” He whispers against your skin.

Even though you knew you would, you couldn’t help but nod in agreement to him.

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astralis-ortus · 5 months

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game for two

✱ husband!bc × gn!reader

— guess who just got his old yearbook in the mail?

w.count → 0.8k genre → fluff, married life!au, non-idol!chan warnings → minor cussing (light hearted context), chan referred to as chris ⋆ see masterlist

coming home from work, you’re usually greeted with one of the following—an empty house, a soft reverberating beat from the small, cozy studio located at one end of your home, or a soft snore while some romance movie thickens its plot on the screen of your neatly mounted tv.

a view of your husband with a stack of books on his lap, however, was not exactly something you would ever have in your bingo card.

“whatcha up to?” became your follow up question after chris’ quick how-was-your-day debrief. it didn’t take you long before promptly securing the spot next to your husband, where he—judging from the way your ivory-colored couch emanates heat—had been hanging around on for quite some time now. “i don’t think i’ve seen those books before.”

“mm, just got them in the mail today,” chris hummed, an arm swiftly encaged your figure as he attempts wrap you in his warmth, “mum and dad found these in the attic while they were clearing out the house. thought would be better to keep these here than to fill up space in their new home.”

it only took you a second to realize what kind of book your husband has been flipping through when a familiar-yet-way-younger-looking dimpled smile came into view, eternally captured in the printed sheet. “oh! baby chris!”

“good lord,” a chuckle ignited from the depth of his chest, ones that always pair with the soft crinkles near his eyes and sometimes a nuzzle to your hair when he couldn’t stand the adoration bubbling in his heart, “i was an angsty, moody teenager there, not a baby.”

“sure, whatever you say, baby,” you teased, emphasizing the word as you stole the perfectly conditioned yearbook from his hands. you’ve seen countless of chris’ teenager years' pictures, sure, but what harm could it bring to have a peek at more?

chris comically let out a sigh as he rolled his eyes—a signature telltale of his attempt to ‘look’ annoyed. “you’d really be in a huge trouble if you call an angsty teenager a baby, you know.”

“i don’t, actually,” eyeing the faint playful glint in chris’ eyes, you decided to lure him into a game. after all, what’s a more fun way to spend your evening than to bicker with your husband? “what would this-” you pointed at his half-heartedly grinning self of the past, “-angsty teenager do if teenager me called him a baby?”

another set of chuckles escapes him—ones louder, which, more often than not, indicates his approval of the arena you’ve built.

he’s in the game.

“well, for starters,” chris tilted his head, quite obviously setting himself to get a full view of your reaction just by gauging the godawfully attractive smirk he got etched on his lips, “i’d probably…”

“…probably?”

his way of building suspense will one day definitely be the death of you. really. if you were honest to yourself, you would actually rather kiss that damned smirk off his face right now—but the game has just started, and you’d hate to lose to your husband on your own little trick.

only… would he even let you win?

“well…” shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, chris continued,

”i’d probably tell you to fuck off.”

the way your grin transformed into a face of utter disbelief was enough of a trigger to fill the room with echoes of chris’ laugh, filling the space with the kind of warmth you’ve only known after you met him. for now, however, you feel like you’ve been betrayed.

“that’s rude!” you huffed, incredulous. though arms are now completely folded in front of your chest, chris knew you’d still let him push more of your buttons; otherwise, why would you still melt into him?

“i’m your future wife! how could you tell me to fuck off?”

“in his defense, he didn’t know that!” he countered, wiping a stray tear which had involuntarily escaped while he was celebrating his first strike. "he was just a kid who thought the world in general was a mean ol' crone, so he just, you know, returned the energy."

"meeting you, however," setting his yearbooks aside, chris then took the chance to entrap you in his arms, "has changed my view about the world—for the better—and i owe you my life for that."

you've been speculating that there's something going on about chris' voice—is he a siren? or is he actually a highly skilled mage? how is it that his voice alone has never failed to untangle every single jumbled up knots under your skin?

or maybe, just maybe, the problem is you—because unknowingly, somewhere along the way, chris had long become your achilles heels.

"...shut up, christopher."

"aw- look at your ear! they're burning!"

"shut up!"

"heh- i love you too, baby."

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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blossomthepinkbunny · 4 months

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Hazbins bad character design

I feel like there is a definitive lack of varitey when it comes to the designs in HH as well as a problem of characters' designs not fitting them or what the show wants us to assume about them.

I've said it before and I'll say it again (like lots of other ppl already) but the designs in HH specifically mostly don't work. They're fine if you look at them disconnected from the show. Maybe as just random characters who don't really have to carry a show visually. But they don't work if you actually put them into context and into the background of Hazbin Hotel.

Obviously this stuff is very objective and if you do like the designs thats fine (which I shouldn't even have to say). Also I didn't study art or character design and I don't think you have to to be good at it/be able to form opinions on it and this is mostly just me compiling what I don't like while using some basic knowledge on how shapes, colours etc work.

(rant under the cut)

One problem I really have is, that as soon as you have a design there are immediate assumptions about the character. In the sense that if person A is very muscular and fights against person B, who is maybe slimmer or less buff, you would probably immediately assume that person A wins, atleast in physical combat. Whereas person B would probably be the assumed winner in a stretching or flexibility competition. Often characters are designed with these assumptions in mind. Muscle, height, weight, age, clothes etc. give way into assuming stuff about people, their condition, lifestyle or personality.

The expectations that are set up by the design choices are usually either picked to genuinely represent something about a character or to be subverted and shock/confuse the audience.

Like how a lot of fighting types in Pokémon will either be more muscular or have other details relating to certain fighting styles/sports and the fairy types are usually pinkish, fluffy and cutesy. Because these elements are something typically associated with these types and when we look at them we can pretty easily tell which type they're supposed to be.

Otherwise, Monster girl from Invincible is drawn as a twelve year old girl, so it subverts expectations when she turns into a big green monster and generally doesn't stray away from violence, because it's something you wouldn't have assumed about her from her appearance.

In Hazbin Hotel most of the time the character designs don't necessarily fit what they're supposed to be and they also don't use the other design choices as subversion (the one that would probably count here is Nifty with looking and acting very childlike usually but then also acting violent/crazy sometimes).

The first thing would probably be that characters don't look their age mostly.

Charlie and Valeria (Vaggie, but I really don't wanna keep calling her that so she gets a new name) look fine as they're supposed to be around 20. Rosie and Carmilla also look alright for what we can assume their ages are supposed to be. But Alastor is in his 30s or 40s (what it says on the fandom wiki) and he looks around 20 as well. The same thing goes for Lucifer. He looks so young that he could also count as just Charlies brother or friend rather than her dad, because he doesn't look like he could be the dad of a 20 year old. This makes the song "Hell's Greatest Dad" a bit awkward because these men are singing/competing about who is better as Charlies father but they don't look a day older than her. Husk also looks way too young for someone in his 60s-70s (again from the wiki).

The body types being all the same also doesn't help.

Mimzy and Adam are pretty much the only more relevant characters who aren't like all the others in terms of body shape. All the other relevant women in the show have a tiny waist and either big boobs/big hips or just a slimmer build in general. All the men have thin waists and then broader shoulders.

And for some characters it makes sense. Like Angel is really flexible and his more lanky body fits with being a spider. But why are Lucifer and Valentino like that? Other than the fact that Viv doesn't like drawing muscles there is really no reason for them too being build like every other skinny man there. Valentino is supposed to be intimidating not just by how he acts but physically too. He seemingly has a bit more muscle than others but his arms are still super thin and look like they could snap if I look at them wrong. I'm not trying to say that abusers all have to be buff, but simply from a design perspective the scenes with him would be a lot more effective if we saw him actually have a big physical advantage over Angel and others, even when he isn't necessarily threatening them. As soon as he comes on screen, we could see him as a much more intimidating presence, especially when all the other characters look like sticks. Or they could make it so, that he hides his muscles under his coat and when we get the reveal of him actually removing it, it's more shocking and immediately makes the situation more tense.

Lucifer could've had a more confident frame as well. He's the king of hell and the strongest being in hell, so just for the diversity I would give him some muscles too. Husk is also super skinny and for someone who only sits around and drinks alcohol all day, he should definitely have a beer belly (please I swear to god I wanna see more men with bellies, Mammon was great). Also for Valeria and Lute and pretty much all the Angels I don't get why they wouldn't be more buff either. Valeria is a fighter, she's Charlies bodyguard but she looks like all of the other women there. It's stated that Angels fight so wild because they don't know they could get hurt. And while I know that the Angels can really only get hurt by angelic weapons, having this whole reveal that they can be injured would've definitely suprised me more, if they actually looked like they couldn't be injured in the first place. But then again, Valeria looks like her arms would break as soon as a breeze hits them too hard. In some episodes her thighs look a bit more muscular, but not notably and she also doesn't fight using her legs (like Carmilla) so only her thighs being bigger sort of doesn't make sense. In general, she or Lute don't show any difference to the women who aren't physical fighters. And obviously just to have a more interesting show to look at, including different body types would do a great job at making these characters stand apart from eachother more.

While we're on the topic of diversity, another obvious thing that makes the characters redundant and borig (sometimes ugly too) is the reused colour pallette. Colour coding is probably one of the easiest things when talking about character designs and it's something atleast Helluva Boss understands.

What effect warm/cold tones have or what feelings we associate with different colours is a great way to bring stuff about characters across without being too on the nose. Obviously colour can also be used to either connect characters or to make them very distinct. Shape language also plays into that of course. In Inside Out the emotions are mostly characterized by their respective colour and by their distinct shapes.

Joy = yellow (bright colour often associated with the sun/light)

Sadness = blue (cold colour often associated with tears/rain)

Anger = red (very strong colour with aggressive association with fire or when someone turns red because of anger)

Fear = purple (light colour here, mix between red and blue as fear often falls into a more angry or sad feeling)

Disgust = green (colour of most dirt or puke or other stuff people usually see as gross)

Or in a show like Bluey, where different patterns, shapes and colours show the breed of the dog and also how characters might be related to eachother (same breed/mix of breed = usually related).

Or how colours can be used as lighting effects to create cool shots when the colour pallette changes all of a sudden. In JJBA these changes happen often when someone is in distress or unsure of themselves. Also in tense moments to make them seem more exciting and interesting.

Hazbin Hotel has very limited range when it comes to the colours of the main cast. All of them feature some form of red and that usually in combination with black or white (if they aren't just purely red like Alastor or Rosie). This makes them not stand out from eachother and creates very similar colour pallettes which get boring once you've seen them repeated over and over again. It also makes the visual connection between characters who are actually related (like Charlie and Lucifer) a lot less strong because so many characters share similarities already.

Also they just hurt to look at sometimes because the background is mostly red as well and with a lot of them being very overly detailed. People have also spoken before about the show being pretty inaccessible for colour blind/vision impared people due to these issues with the colour.

And now you might say that it's hell and therefore it makes sense for all of them and the background to be red. But firstly, I don't think that there is a definitive source which decides that hell is red and can only be shown/interpreted as red. And also there is another show, also set in hell which actually does a much better job at that and actually shows different colours in hell. Like in Helluva Boss the rings are all colour coded.

And I know, that HH plays in the pride ring fully, but imagine how cool it would've been to see sinners have colours similar to the sin(s) they committed. This could lead to them looking distinct from eachother and the background and would also lead to us being able to assume stuff about them, if we're familiar with the colour coding. In "Hell's Greatest Dad" they do a fun colour change with different light and it's really refreshing and I just wanted to see more variety like that (of course I kinda get that the colour changing isn't really part of the shows design but it was pretty cool to see in that song).

There also is the issue with characters that are supposed to be animal-like sinners not looking like the animal they apparently take inspiration from. The thing is that the animal/object parts don't necessarily have to be visible to understand a character. But in the show, how sinners look in hell is often influenced by their life on earth. Vox's head being a TV is because he was a Tv-show host when he was alive. Nifty also is supposedly a bug, which makes sense because she hates bugs and probably hated them in real life too. But that is where it would be great to actually have Nifty resemble a bug, instead she has no features of one and just looks like a regular humanoid sinner. The same thing happens with Alastor being a deer, Valeria a moth, Charlie goat-like and Angel a spider (also Mimzy is apparently based off of a chicken). Like I said, the animal inspiration isn't essential to the characters, but emphasizing these design elements could help the characters stand out instead of them all just looking like sort of human characters. Sir pentious and Husk work the best in terms of presenting their animal inspiration (though pretty much everything else about Husks design sucks ass).

And then there are complaints about the characters that are supposed to be people of colour not having any features that resemble their race. It's just a bit weird when a mostly humanoid sinner doesn't really seem to resemble how the person looked in real life. Black characters have really desaturated and sometimes just straight up grey skin in HH. Alastor is probably the most egregious in that regard, but also Emily has just light blueish gray skin and no textured hair or other black features like the nose or lips or palms. Velvette and Sera have darker skin but also no other features (except for when we see Velvette's natural hair texture in like one shot at the end of the season). I know there are other things wrong with how Voodoo is presented in HH or with Mimzy's design often being seen as a jewish caricature, but I don't wanna focus on that fully, because I feel like there are people better suited for talking about that (black people or jewish people ofc).

In general HH is a show with pretty bad designs (imo). That's actually a thing I prefer about Helluva Boss, because there the designs are mostly okay or actually sometimes pretty good. Striker is probably my favourite design in both shows (he reminds me of Dillon and that's cool).

I like Mammon, Asmodeus, Octavia and Loona as well. I would still probably change a bunch if I were to redesing the HB cast but they overall look more solid than the HH cast.

This was another post which pretty quickly became an excuse to talk about other media I enjoy. I might do that more often, because comparing elements of HH or HB to other stuff makes it kinda easier to articulate my feelings. Also just because I enjoy talking about other stuff too.

#hazbin hotel critical #vivzepop critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #anti vivziepop #character design

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intimidating-fettuccine · 2 months

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I know I don’t usually get political on here, but with recent events happening I wanted to make a post to reach as many people as I can, as a young woman in the US in this current political climate. Everyone needs to vote.

“But what if I don’t want to register because I don’t want jury duty?”

There is no guarantee you would ever be called for jury duty. I have met people in their 80s who have never been called. Even if you are called, if you tell the judges that you will be an awful juror, you won’t pay attention, you’re incredibly biased, etc. they will dismiss you. They do not want someone on the jury that would be an inconvenience to both sides. As someone who has been called but was not chosen, it is not as big of a deal as you might think it is in the grand scheme of things, and at least in my state you can only even be called once every two years. Plus, certain conditions can disqualify you from even having to show up as well.

“But what if I don’t like the democratic representative either?”

That literally does not matter in this actually life and death case, because the other choice is Donald Trump and Project 2025. If you do any research into project 2025, which no, is not just empty promises they’re trying to make, it is a plan built mostly around removing the rights of women, LGBT members, and deconstructing public education. It is a very scary document and it is one they will 100% go forward with if Trump is put into office. Whether Kamala ends up as the representative for the party or someone else does, you MUST vote blue.

“Well, why can’t we all just vote independent?”

Because they will not win. They won’t. Independents are not even always put on every bracket in every state, but even if they were there is no way that they would win the upcoming election because none of them have a big enough audience at present moment. They need time to build an audience, and they need a Blue country to be able to do so. Plus, we have the electoral college to worry about, and there’s no way in hell any of them are voting independent. In this election it is Blue or Red, and Blue is the much better choice.

“But I don’t think that Blue is going to win, so I don’t even want to bother with voting.”

That is the exact line of thinking Trump wants you to have. Trump is scared of losing! He wants you to think he’s the only winner possible, and that’s why we need to prove him wrong! Not voting at all is still a vote for Trump! We need to show up and vote, because otherwise you are just automatically saying you’re fine with letting Trump win, which is saying you’re fine with losing your own rights or your friends and your family losing their own rights. This election is not a joke this time, we cannot just let it slide this time and assume it’ll be different in four years.

“But politics stress me out and make me anxious so I don’t want to get involved in them.”/“I don’t live close enough to reach my polling station.”

That is the same as the previous one. I know this is an extremely stressful time for everyone, believe me, I’m extremely anxious about it too, but you just need to vote Blue, and show up on one specific day to vote. If you’re too anxious to physically go to polling station or you don’t live close enough, you can also do a mail in ballot, which I’ve done before! You can request one online, receive it in the mail, and send it out! No contact with any other people required. Mail in ballots are still an option and literally made for people who cannot physically show up to a polling station.

“I know all of that’s true, but again, I REALLY hate the Blue candidate.”

Well, consider this. We are not just voting for the president, we are voting for Supreme Court members. Presidents serve as of right now up to 8 years, but Supreme Court justices serve for life. Trump put on the last Supreme Court members, and I’m sure you’ve seen the horrible choices they’ve made in the sake of the Republican Party. The president is the one who chooses those members, so if you allow a Red President, you are allowing the possibility of an even more Red Supreme Court. Vote Blue not just because you are voting for the president, but because you are voting for the sake of your literal future with Supreme Court justices. Politicians have historically always sucked. When it comes to voting, it is the lesser of two evils, and when you’re picking between them, Blue is obviously the lesser of the two evils, especially when Red wants to remove as many rights as physically possible.

“What if Trump also gets removed from the running. Won’t we be okay then?”

No! Because it does not matter who the Red representative is, they are STILL going to move forward with Project 2025. Even if Trump somehow keels over and dies tomorrow or decides to drop out (which I doubt will happen), they would still make the next representative go through with Project 2025. They want this plan more than anything else in the world, and so long as there’s a possibility of a republican representative going into office there is a guarantee of them using that plan.

“But what if Project 2025 really IS just empty promises?”

It is not. I guarantee you it is not. Even if it was, do you REALLY want to take the risk? Do you REALLY want to try and play this game? When the rights of women, LGBT members, public education, and the environment are at risk, do you really want to just assume it’s not going to happen? Is it really worth it to you to play this game and assume so? I’m going to guess it is not, in fact, worth it to play this game. You NEED to fully believe that Project 2025 is actually going to happen, because it is going to happen if they win. This isn’t a fever dream we’re going to wake up from and laugh about if they win. It’s the reality of the current shithole country we live in, and this country could become far, far worse if they win.

Even if you do not live in the US, I am just asking of you to please consider reblogging this and spreading it, as there are probably Americans that will see if if you do so. If you’re even still too young to vote, people that are old enough are likely to see it. I know I’m not a huge blog, but reblogs are always important and I still want to try.

As a woman and LGBT member who does not want to lose her rights, I am asking for you to please read and spread this post. Even if I can just reach one person who will care, it can be a great help. They do not want us to unionize and vote against them, but that is exactly what we must do. Regardless of how you feel about the Blue party, you have to vote for them this year, it’s the only thing we can do.

#if you ever do anything for me please do this and take it seriously #voting #please go vote #please vote blue #2024 elections #2024 presidential election #project 2025

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backfromtwitterforw · 9 months

Text

Pomme's diary found in the place she was with Richas (30 first pages)

Day 117

We walked for so long, longer than a day.

Chayanne thinks we'll be safe if we're far enough. I doubt that, because no matter what threatened us manage to find my secured bunker 200 000 blocks away, and even succeded to get into my room to put its letter. Honestly, I think we'll never be really safe anywhere.

Chayanne was panicking so much that we didn't even have time to prepare stuff before leaving. I tried to talk him out ot it, but they were all already gone and I couldn't leave them alone.

At least, I had the reflex to take one of my scythe. And fortunately so.

During our journey, I had to fight a lot of monsters. It's a miracle we all survived without armor or anything else.

We weren't far from death on multiple occasions.

I'll protect them no matter what.

That's a promise.

Day 118

We could build a little improvised camp. We're exhausted from the walk we had, we don"t have alot but it's better than nothing. The most important for now is to survive.

Dapper made a small makeshift field and planted seeds and potatoeshe had collected along the way, while we prepared tools and cut wood.

Tallulah played the flute to try to confort us and give us courage. She even leanred one of my favorite songs on the flute to try to make me smile again.

We make progress, slowly but surely.

Day 119

I think each one of us has tools now. We continued to gather ressources, especially trying to find enough food for everyone, because Dapper's field is not enough. But we didn't have great success, we have to be comptent with the bare minimum. We'll try to build a small shelter tomorrow.

It's hard to do anything because we are all exhausted from the trip. We found materiel to make sleeping bags, so they will finally be able to rest in better conditions.

I'll try to stand guard and watch over them during the night.

Day 120

We were able to start the construction of a small makeshift shelter. It doesn't look great but at least we have something to be protected now.

Truth be told, I haven't slept in a few days, I cannot allow myself to sleep.

We could be attacked at any time, by monsters or by the thing that threatened us. I'm scared it may trace our steps.

On multiple occasions, Chayanne asked me on multiple occasions to share the watch during the night, but I refused systematically.

I'd rather let him rest, and watch over Tallulah during the day. He's the one she trusts the most, he needs to be there to for her, and to protect her.

But I feel the tiredness winning over me.

I fight against exhaution as hard as I can, but I can see my reaction time and my moves becoming slower.

Day 121

The shelter is almost done, I'm so proud of them. They never let themselves be overwhelmed by fear and they do their maximum for everyone to be safe. We watch over one antother and that warms my heart to see it.

On the other side, food is continuously missing.

It soon gonna become a huge problem if we don't find a solution, we won't be able to hold much longer with the ressources we actually have...

I believe it's been a week I haven't slept, I'm trying to stay awake with always being busy. As soon as I am not, I feel my eyes closing by themselves.

It's especially difficult during the night. I spend them looking at the campfire crackling and making sure it doesn't extinguish by itself. We found material to make a lighter, so I play with it to pass the time: I found out the burning feeling is particularly effective to wake me up.

I miss my parents. I miss them excruciatingly.

It's so hard that they're not here with us. I regret all the time that we couldn't leave any note, any letter. They must be terribly worried for us, i feel terribly guilty...

I hope they won't resent us...

Day 122

Dapper amost died.

Dapper.

Almost.

Died.

We were talking about the pending lack of food, and he suggested we could explore the surroundings to find something to eat. I know exploring is something he adores, and he knows better than anyone the different kinds of existing ressources, so I also thought it was a good idea.

I suggested to come with him, but i assured me I didn't have to worry about him, that it wouldn't take him long to come back, and that it would be better for me to stay with the others to watch over them. So, I accepted. I trusted him.

But he went to fight against a skeleton. Or at least, what looked like a normal skeleton, but it wasn't one; this one had an armor and was able to shoot arrows at an abnormal speed, in addition to having knockback.

He thought it was a normal skeleton and attacked. But the skeleton was stronger and knocked him off.

I ran.

I ran so fast, every second mattered.

He cannot die, not like this, not now.

If he dies, I'll never forgive myself.

I managed to find him, and I could finish the skeleton off.

I ran to him to save him, just in time.

With tears in my eyes, I asked if he was ok and why he wanted to attack that monster way to strong for us even though we have no armor and barely any defense.

He just answered that he wanted bones to make bonemill, to speed up the growth of the seeds in the field. And also because he wanted to make a bone mask for Chayanne, since he didn't have his fetish skull.

He was so nonchalant in explaining it all, as if he didn't care about being do close to death.

#i love pomme's diairies so I thought maybe others love them too #since it wasn't a goos rp time to read it for Baghera i gathered the screens i could #sorry for the quality #english is not my first language #so sorry for the mistakes #qsmp #qsmp pomme #qsmp chayanne #qsmp tallulah #qsmp dapper #qsmp richarlyson #qsmp leo #qsmp eggs #purgatory 2 lore

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lovelybeesthings · 11 months

Text

Stupid bunny ch 1? 2 3

Coriolanus Snow x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Y/n Ashwood was the daughter of a very powerful family that was a part of the structure of the Capito, the Ashwoods had been one of the few honorable families to survive the falls of the most powerful families. Y/N was a very sweet innocent girl who never had to survive by eating raw meat or scraps and didn't have to fight for a scholarship to attend the Academy.

Alongside her wealth she was a beautiful girl with long lashes, rosy cheeks Doe eyes, and plum lips, her hair was in bubble braids or in long curls her hair was silky smooth by the touch of it and her looks were ones of a saint, y/n was looked at as a white soft rabbit or a doll to some as her life seemed to be in the hands of her family.

As Y/n attended the academy it was inevitable she was popular she had the looks and the Brain which amazed her peers how can a girl who looks like a saint and fragile to touch look at such hordes of sights? Y/n had known of the Snow family as they were one of a higher class but close to the bottom she knew exactly of Coriolanus Snow his long curly locks and his charming looks.

There was also one more reason Y/n Ashwood knew of Coriolanus Snow she had been his fiance since the moment they were both been born the Ashwoods and The snows had set the engagement in motion when y/n was 7 years old she met snow on one occasion and it was breath taking she still remembers it the way he had walked toward her as she hid behind her mother he took her hand and kissed it introducing himself.

*Present day*

As our days with our distracts pass soon to the games I notice how Coriolanus looks at his distract trains Lucy grey I’ve seen her girl from distract 12 I see the way she build skinny pretty from her distracts condition but to me there’s no hope a performer in an hunt I say shell die in the first 10 minutes but the way I catch his eyes longing at hers every moment at her*

My trainee was a boy named Reaper his build was strong and what I’ve read he had even attacked a peacekeeper which betters the odds.

“Coriolanus!” *I say as i see him alone for once passing by as I say his name he turns his head as his eyes lock to mine* “y/n?” *I walk closer* “I’ve missed you it’s been so long it just seems your time has been consumed so much into the game you know my family’s gonna. Host another dinner party you should come!” *I say smiling brightly* “I don’t think so I-i have to see how to better Lucy’s chances” *I look at him and my nose crutches from his response* “you mean your tribute right?” *I say harshly* “Yes, is their something the matter y/n?” *he responds more in colder tone* “it’s-s just seems like your mind is more on the girl then the goal of winning I mean she’s not the strongest tribute and doesn’t seem that smart” *I say as my words drop with venom getting so hung up on my words I don’t notice his expression to get more pissed* “Y/n! I have to spend my time on her, okay? I don’t have the riches to pay for the academy I need to be on this scholarship you can’t even view my point as your life is handed to you” *he says coldly making me shiver and I realize where I went wrong* “Coriolanus wait-t I didn’t, I wasn’t trying to make it seem that way!” *I say as my face blush’s from the embarrassment and I try to resolve this small argument* “y/n just shut it I have to get back to Lucy” *I feel this utter poison in me as I grab onto his shirt as he begins to walk away* “STOP! Don’t leave me!” *i say as a demand he quickly turns and looks at me but his eyes cold his look disturbed with my existence* “you’re just a stupid bunny” *he says as his words feel like a ridicule*

I’m end it here cause I started to hate it 🥲 if you have any suggestions or anything just tell me plz

#coriolanus snow x reader #reader

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 3 months

Note

Funny valentine: (name) please..i love you so much that it physically hurts me, please accept my love, (name)...

Reader: don't you have a wife?? 🤨

Funny valentine: i don't know what you're talking about..

Proceeds to write on a divorce paper and immediately sends it to scarlet

Saved this for today since it’s the 4th of July.

Reader: *gets Scarlet to try and convince her husband to not divorce her* *you even plead how good of a couple they are, she knows him better than you do*

*proceed to butter her up too much*

Scarlet: I like your spirit, but it’s cute you think you can run off just like that. You won’t get married outside of myself or my husband , he won’t allow it. I could shield you, that’s the best thing you have right now. Reader: *looks at Scarlet freaked out* I- I can’t possibly stay here…

Scarlet: *expression softens she’s totally enamored with you* You still want to run anyway? I won’t stop you, *she proceeds to pull out a small piece of paper to write on it* “however, I have something in mind…”

she hums a short moment later sliding said bit of paper to you.

Scarlet instructs you to go to this address and that someone will be there to help you.

Scarlet: I’ll propose something to my husband, a wager of finding you. We’ll work separately,

Reader: that sounds insane!

Scarlet: Not as insane as you running away without a plan, this is the federal government we’re talking about here dear y/n. If my husband is head over heels for you as you describe then you’re doomed from the start.

She hurt to see the look of defeat on your face, the way you were vulnerable right in front of her. No wonder her husband liked you,

Whether you liked it or not, this probably was the greatest chance at freedom you had. But you couldn’t help but feel you were only marginally safer with Scarlet than Funny Valentine. Shakily you accepted her offer and she guided you out of her room and out the building. Making sure not a single guard would see you.

Funny Valentine later approaches her asking where dearest y/n went. Scarlet: Let’s talk about that shall we? *She gestures at the divorce papers* I’ll protect y/n one way or another as best as I can, to give them a chance to run away from you. They’re so cute I couldn’t stand to just squash their sense of hope right in front of them. I know how you work after all dear,

Funny Valentine : *His eyes furrow looking at his current wife in front of him* Are you trying to suggest something here?

Scarlet : *Nodding confidently* See normally I’d be upset at such an announcement you handed me, but something about seeing y/n coming through the door and begging me to talk some sense into you, stirred certain emotions within me. They listed everything about how I knew you so thoroughly like a lovely wife should, they paid attention…

Her fingers tapped on a nearby table she was leaning on

“I’d like to propose a wager on y/n, I’ll help her from my side, not once do you interfere in my end. However, you can continue looking for her however you see fit outside of that. If you find them, I’ll gladly sign the divorce papers you have served me…”

Funny Valentine : then I presume we’d stay married as long as they’re still on the run.

Scarlet : Either way, it works out for both of us. I won’t be having them marry anyone else, I’ll likely have them come back somewhere around this area, if I win. Not “here” so to speak, if they hold out long enough.

Funny Valentine: I’m sensing a time limit as another condition to potentially win.

Scarlet: more so for me to fall back on, but yes, about a year should do it. If I manage that I get to do what I see fit with them, as I suggested moments ago, with moving them back here. You’d still get to see y/n even, you have the simple restriction of being unable to marry them

If you manage to foil me and find them first, then they’re all yours my lovely husband.

Funny Valentine : So interesting….and such a clever way to torture me. Yet, a fitting punishment.

Scarlet: Are you’re changing your mind on this? You can just let them go and everything would be fine

Funny Valentine : *shaking his head* No, it’s the opposite I agree to your terms, testing me on my desire for y/n. Perhaps even you’re testing yourself here, I find it fascinating…

*In your desperation to run away you somehow made everything worse for yourself*

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere jjba #yandere imagines #yandere jjba imagines #yandere jjba x reader #yandere headcanons #jjba imagines #yandere funny valentine #yandere scarlet valentine #yandere scneario #yandere drabble #yandere jojo’s bizarre adventure #yandere jojo x reader

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driaswrld · 11 months

Text

ultraviolence — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 3k

summary : suguru coming home was supposed to make things better. but, it's as if everything is going wrong again.

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : pls read this and this first ty!! LORE DUMP 🤭 mostly from sugu n toru's pov dealing with their new life and the twins along with jujutsu society. reader is trying to be the mediator as always and shoko is the best ofc. just the one where everyone has an existential crisis. (part one of two hopefully)

other : I PROMISE YOU'LL GET FLUFF SOON 😭 mentions of alcohol, blood, smoking obvi, idk why i named this ultraviolence lmao (shit hits the fan in the next tsr im js trying to be kind i promise!)

comment to be added to the tsr taglist!

current cassette : pretty when you cry - lana del rey

You come home to a house colder than you left it.

There’s a small comfort in the droplets of water that splatter against the wooden floor when you hang your jacket up, having remembered the way the girls beamed up at you only an hour ago as you walked them to school.

The twins were adamant to hold your hands, Mimiko blushing the whole time and Nanako poking fun at it, promising to hold your hand everyday until they became big girls.

Big girls that would only need you to hold their hand halfway — the same way Suguru only walks you and Satoru halfway to the school before heading back.

But the sliver of a chill that reverberates through your bones doesn’t resemble the comfort of a morning’s soft rain drizzle.

“You can’t just dismiss the issue like this, Satoru!”

“Where’s my own will, huh? Can’t I just do this?”

“This isn’t about you.”

You hear everything for a moment, muffled shouts and grumbles from the bathroom.

“Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear, haven't you?”

Then you hear nothing at all.

The investigation launched on the ninth day in December.

Suguru had all but been home for a week and then some, settling into the shoddy apartment you and Satoru called home between missions and meetings with Yaga and the higher ups.

It took half a day to move his old things out of the dormitory building, most of what really mattered was already sitting in the hall closet untouched, kept the way Suguru would’ve wanted it.

It was after he rifled through the closet in search of a fresh set of clothes did he realize, he had been mourned.

You and Satoru had mourned him like a mother would a child, like a womb stretched to make space, only to bleed.

His clothes smelled more like the both of you than it did him.

The fourth day, Suguru spent the night hunched over the balcony, smoking a silver blue parliament with Shoko while you and Satoru attended a hearing with the higher ups.

A necessary audience, they defined over the cryptic email.

Shoko described it as a means to an end, Satoru was still the strongest and you were his voice. The meeting was all but a farce to keep you two in check — but Suguru read it clearly for what it was.

A threat.

“He’ll be clan head,” Suguru murmured between plumes of smoke. “They won’t let him turn it down any longer, especially with me around.”

At this, Shoko chuckled, sucking in a sharp breath.

“You think he’ll do it this time?” She asked, somewhere between knowing and not knowing.

The higher ups want Satoru under their thumbs — not that you’d so much as let them come close — that much is evident. But it’s become a lose to win situation.

The guarantee that Suguru and the girls would remain untouched and hidden under the condition that he follows their rules, does it their way, doesn’t ask, doesn’t so much as breathe a word or commit an action using his own strength outside their command—

“Satoru as a lap dog?” Suguru laughs a little.

He just can’t picture it.

What he can picture though is the Six Eyes user backed into a corner, with no other choice but to concede. Then again, Satoru’s never been submissive to authority, no matter the setting.

A beat of silence passes over him and Shoko, and she knows what he’s thinking before he says it, yet she doesn’t caution him otherwise nor does she blame the nicotine.

“He could kill them.” Suguru says, “It wouldn’t take him long.”

The seventh day, Suguru stands in the middle of one of the many engawa corridors of Jujutsu High, dressed like a teenage dropout, teeth sinking into the inside of his cheeks until crimson stains his tongue.

You told him last night while cuddled into his side, Satoru’s head on his chest, “Walk away from it the right way, Suguru.”

And admittedly, he was going to laugh a little, kiss your cheek and maybe lull you back to sleep and ease your worries.

I don’t resent you,

for the path you chose.

As long as you swear,

yours and ours will converge.

“Geto, what is this?”

Suguru looks down at the sealed envelope he passed to Yaga seconds ago, the word resignation printed in bold atop the sealed flaps.

If he intends to kill himself, he should at least do it the way you asked him to.

He owes you that much.

Suguru never thought of himself to have been in a position where he could live past twenty ; he thought he was lucky Satoru even let him live to see the first snow, even if it was from the bittersweet solitude of the bed you three shared.

“I’ll graduate first,” Suguru says, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets.

For the sake of saving face he took a total of ten missions after his sentence was pardoned.

Five to prove he wasn't a liability to the Jujutsu world, two to hover by your side – he hadn't realized post traumatic stress could manifest in the need for more physical attachment – and three to see up close just how much Satoru had on his shoulders now.

To see just how different Satoru had become because of him.

“And then?” Yaga asks it like a cruel joke that only he and Suguru know.

People are talking. People have been talking.

Suguru Geto the defect. Suguru Geto the cancer of the strongest. Suguru Geto the curse. Suguru Geto—

“Maybe I’ll die of old age.”

I pray death finds me

under you two

in our bed.

If not,

kill me yourselves.

There’s meaning in that too.

That same afternoon, brandished with what should be newfound freedom – Suguru Geto. Not the sorcerer, not the curse, not the man – he drinks himself sick until he blacks out on the sofa.

Alcohol is cheap at Shinanoya, it’s been that way since he was sixteen and idle in the summer of ‘06, coaxed by Satoru into printing fake IDs, blacking out on the floor of your dorm room and waking up to throw up, just to blackout again.

Suguru took the train back and passed his stop two times.

Two times he thought of two different outcomes and two different destinations.

First, he’d go back to Jujutsu High and take the resignation back from Yaga before he signed it.

He’d call your cellphone, tell you how he's had a change of heart, whisper into the line : “We should celebrate. Me, you and Satoru.”

But you’d know it was a lie.

He still has twisted dreams of waking up in a gas station bathroom in a pool of blood that isn't his own.

Dreams that don't frighten him at all.

Second, it came to him the moment he considered actually getting off at his stop and going back to the apartment.

He’d let the train take him to Shibuya, stand in the middle of the crossing and scream.

People would look at him weird, others would walk by.

And the first monkey to reach out and offer him help, he’d—

“Suguru?”

He wakes with a startle, eyes bloodshot and half lidded.

“Name—” he opens his mouth, half empty vodka bottle tilted over and soaking the carpet. Satoru comes through the door a moment later, leading the twins to the kitchen to set their half eaten bentos down.

A shiver runs down his spine when he glances at the clock above the mantle. 12:53pm.

“School ended half day,” you say to him. Satoru doesn't so much as glance at Suguru when he steps back in to take the plastic bags of takeout from your hands. “They called but you didn't—”

Suguru's already sitting up, fishing through his pockets for his phone and clicking at the buttons.

Two missed calls from Mimiko and Nanako’s school.

Two missed calls from their homeroom teacher, Ms. Aiko.

Four missed calls from you.

One voicemail from Satoru.

“I'm so— shit,” Suguru sets the bottle of alcohol upright, pressing a palm to the carpet to find it damp.

His skin is hot, he feels like a mess, no doubt he looks like a mess with the way you're already kneeling beside him to screw the bottle shut. “I’m so sorry, I didn't— everything with the letter and then the train got delayed—”

“Suguru.” Satoru speaks for the first time, looks at him for the first time – behind bandaged eyes. “Sober up by tomorrow, yeah?”

Your head flits around to give Satoru a stare, as if to ask if that's all he has to say right now. But Suguru’s fingers enclose around your wrist, it’s okay, I was the one at fault.

“Satoru—”

“Just do this one thing right, please.”

The twins’ school dismissed half day due to heavy snow this early in the month. Suguru, listed as the girls’ primary guardian, gets the calls first.

He doesn't pick up.

Your work line rings next, and it goes to voicemail.

In between exorcising a special grade in Shinjuku, you don't hear it ring.

As the devil would have it made and done, Satoru’s line rings while he's at the school. Loud.

“Gojo-san!” The lady from the admin office knocks on the door twice, and is met with silence. The phone rings again, but this time it's the main line. The office extension.

The one he’s been using since he put in his teaching application.

The phone clatters against the desk in robust vibrations, Limitless almost bending the coily cord to nothingness.

The meeting room of four higher ups and two members of the Gojo clan watch him intently, scrutinizing him, waiting.

Beyond his better judgment, Satoru tells himself it's just you, calling to ask if you should bring back kikufuku or just the udon.

Or it's Suguru, who’s confused and can't find one of his things in the apartment and needs some guidance.

Satoru's not a pious person. But he wishes he’d have prayed the moment the call went to the answer machine.

“Good day, Mr. Gojo! I’m calling regarding the girls. School’s been dismissed half day today on account of the weather but Mr. Geto nor Ms. Name are picking up.”

“I’m hoping this reaches you soon so the girls can have a ride home. Thankyou! Stay warm!”

The eighth day, you wake to the smell of jasmine and hot oil. Four messages from Yaga, one email attached, forwarded to Satoru : Adoption fraud.

“—he hates me.” Suguru mumbles, shirtless and damn near cowering from your gaze, flipping the omelet in the frying pan, two steps away to avoid the oil splatter.

“Don't say that so casually,” you shake your head, shutting the fridge door, setting a carton of milk on the counter. “It's not like you believe that.”

Suguru flips the omelet with one hand on the pan handle, the other flicking the carton open and turning it to his head in a quick gulp.

He doesn't confirm it.

“Suguru—” you smack his arm and take the milk, turning away to rummage through the pantry for the pancake mix.

“I know.”

No, Suguru.

You don't know.

"I try to be patient," Suguru says quietly, shaking his head. "I know we're not sixteen and that this and then are two different things—” He turns the flame down, refusing to look over at you.

“Nobody's asking you to be perfect,” you cut him off, pancake mix forgotten on the counter. “You made a mistake, it happens—”

The higher ups are already breathing down Satoru’s neck about the twins now that they've been found out. It's an uphill battle in the Jujutsu world, your phone won't stop ringing.

Whether it's Yaga proposing damage control to have you and Satoru set apart on missions or another higher up waiting for you to slip up and beg for help, beg to be in their debt.

“I owe you better,” Suguru whispers, more to himself than to you.

He’s never been the type to ask for help or beg for forgiveness or cower at someone's heels. But you saved him — by putting your life on the line and in turn making Satoru cover it up — and he hates himself for it.

I wish

you would've

just let me stay dead.

“Because that's what I deserve? Better?”

Suguru gets the call from Shoko the next day.

December 9, 2007.

A formal investigation is announced into the involvement of [name] [name] in the case of Suguru Geto’s defection and pardon — alleged charge : fabrication of evidence.

Satoru makes his mind up the same day, sends the twins to stay at the dorms with Shoko for the weekend and brings you and Suguru with him to the Gojo estate.

“I can feel your eyes,” you whisper, seated cross legged on the tatami floor, nursing a cup of tea in your cupped palm.

You've never liked the Gojo estate. Not in winter at least, not when it's like this.

Satoru has his back turned to you, fingering the loose cloth of white bandages covering his eyes, almost hesitant. He recalls his mother's words to him from a few hours ago.

You look tired, Satoru. You're never tired.

There’s an unspoken thing residing here between both your energies and it becomes unbearably evident.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs, slipping the baby blue haori off his shoulders, draping it over the edge of the bed. “Just the cold getting to me 's all.”

Loose and darkened strands of hair lay on the silk sheets where Suguru sat moments ago. Satoru holds his breath.

My lover’s hair is splitting at the ends, tearing apart at the seams just like me.

I pray you don’t notice.

“Is he okay?”

You set the ceramic cup down on the table, turning your head to glance over at Satoru, who despite himself, wears his emotions like a cardigan knit tight between his brows.

“Why won’t you just ask him, ‘toru?”

He thinks he hates you. He hates not being more like you.

With the way you say these things so easily.

Maybe it’s the deep rooted thrum of Suguru’s cursed energy in his veins, or the bitter taste on his tongue when he wakes in the middle of the night just to see if he’s still here—

Maybe it’s that voice in the back of his head, the instinct pounding on the walls of his heart, telling him this is only for a while, it won’t last.

“You can’t lie to me.” Satoru reasons, bending his knees and folding his body next to yours, wrapping and unwrapping the length of cloth around his fingers over and over again. “But he can.”

Or maybe it’s the way he knows even if Suguru lied to him again, said it was okay, said that he’d stay, said that he’d let you and Satoru be selfish for once and keep him here, keep him tethered to this existence he loathes so much—

“Satoru…”

—he’d believe him.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” He sighs, near breathless.

You lift your hands to cup either side of his face, hooking your thumbs under the pale cloth, unraveling and unraveling and unraveling.

How many more layers?

How many more walls?

How many—

“His energy is restless.” Satoru could find other words to describe it, the aura, the shape of Suguru’s soul, his scent, his being, his whole existence. Something only you could understand.

“It’s pouring into me, and I can’t— I pretend I don’t feel it, that I don’t know that he’s…”

Different.

Suguru is different now, he wants to say.

Suguru’s unhappy with me, unhappy with us.

I can’t give him what he needs.

I was too selfish to have asked him to stay. You were too selfish in saving him.

We were too selfish. Do you think he hates me for it? Do you think he wishes he were—

“He loves you.” You tug on the cloth, let it fall and pool in endless strands around his neck. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

Satoru’s eyes are dim, bleaky sapphire and cerulean staring back at you.

Don’t look at them, look at me, look inside me, my eyes are lying, that’s not how I feel—

“He loves you too,” he says it like a confession, a secret. Love can’t be enough, can it?

Love never stopped Suguru from leaving the first two times.

Love never stopped Satoru from waking up so many nights with tears running down his neck, from where you cried for Suguru in your dreams.

Love never stopped Satoru from not being strong enough to bend the world and stretch it to fit Suguru inside.

Why should you love him whom hates the world so?

Satoru lets his head fall into the crook of your neck, body slumped over yours and breath shaky.

Loving Suguru came as easy as breathing if not easier.

He’d spend nights curled in his bed at the dorms, clicking through photos he’d taken of you three, back then, when it wasn’t anything yet but still everything to him.

“Yaga-sensei, please pair me with someone else!”

“Hah!? We not good enough for you anymore, name?”

“Satoru, name, don’t yell so early in the morning…”

And even from the first mission, when Suguru’s hair was shorter and you hadn’t quite figured out how to control your technique.

When Satoru had to save you from plummeting to your death after you sliced a curse open just for grabbing Suguru and yanking him by his hair.

Satoru thinks, maybe, he came into this world loving you two.

Because he loves me more than all the world.

“I’ll protect you,” he whispers into your neck, full of conviction.

He’s never not the strongest, except maybe when he’s here, in these moments. “I’ll protect the both of you.”

Let me do this one thing,

just this once.

Let me be the one

who holds us together.

---------------------------------------

tsr taglist :

@wishmemel @draecys @pearlvalley @cookielovesbook-akie @astral-hydromancy @celestair @/midnightbluehorizons @plaggi @blue-blossomss

#★ DRIASWRLD #tsr ⭐️#jujutsu kaisen #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #satoru gojo #suguru geto #gojo x geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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m4tthewmurd0ck · 9 months

Text

THE MORNING SKY

── Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

CHAPTER ── 2 [ A CHANGE OF HEART ]

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | TABLE OF CONTENTS

no use of y/n and i try to avoid descriptors other than reader being shorter than the boys (coriolanus, sejanus, and archer). i do use she/her.

CORIOLANUS SNOW HAS ALWAYS BEEN PROUD. As in, too proud to ask for help, well from anyone other than Tigris. If someone would offer him a bit of extra food, he’d try to play it off as if he wasn’t hungry but he’d eat it anyway just so the food wouldn’t go to waste. He’d never let on that this would be the first real food he’d eaten in who knows how long, because often all they could afford were potatoes.

Not surprisingly, there was a brief moment during last years games where he became power hungry. When it seemed like Lucy Gray might actually win and he learned of all that would happen for, and to, mentors that ended up with a winning tribute.

He nearly gave in. Coriolanus was tired of a life of wondering where his next meal might come from. He was tired of hoping nobody would notice his too-tight shoes, or that his uniform wasn’t as neat and tailored as the others. He wanted more, not just for himself, but for Tigris and Grandma’am too.

Before becoming a mentor, the games weren’t something he paid close attention to. After being assured his name would never be drawn, Coriolanus simply stopped caring.

Then he saw firsthand just how horrible the games really were. Witnessed the cruel treatment of the tributes before being thrown into an arena and made to fight to the death. Slowly but surely, he began to have a change of heart.

All of that being said, despite how he’d begun to carry himself, and how he started to realize the way he was thinking wasn’t right, he now knows that all of that has gone out the window. Because even before you’d officially met Coriolanus knows that without a doubt he will once again risk everything, this time, for you. Call it an affect of the soulmate bond, or yet another change of heart, he knows he will do whatever it takes to make sure that you survive.

Luck was partially on his side, in that your fellow district tribute was assigned to Sejanus. Based on your reaction when Archer’s name was called, he assumed it was safe to say that you were good friends.

“ — okay?”

Coriolanus nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, but he turned and calmed once he realized that it was only Sejanus.

“Sorry… what?”

“I asked if you were okay,” Sejanus lets out a nervous laugh. “Stupid question, I get that now. But listen, it’s gonna be fine. Our campaigning worked. Mentors get to escort their tributes to where they’ll be sleeping. It’s an actual building this time with beds. And we have two weeks to prepare them for the games.”

That was one thing Coriolanus was extremely grateful for, even before he learned that his tribute was also his soulmate. Because he saw the cruelty that was having the tributes sleep in a zoo enclosure up close, he and Sejanus were among the few that agreed changes needed to happen.

Those that disagreed, thought of the tributes as lowly, bottom of the food chain. And they saw no issue with allowing people to come and gawk at them. Nothing wrong with having them sleep on rocks and dirt, maybe a patch of grass if they were so lucky. In fact, some had the nerve to say it was better if their living conditions were like that since “it’s probably closer to what a lot of them are used to”.

Following last years games, Coriolanus spent a good couple of weeks grieving. Grieving the life he knew he wouldn’t get to have, the prize money that wouldn’t be his, but mostly grieving the loss of Lucy Gray. She was good, she’d been kind to him.

During those few weeks, he thought of everything wrong with the games. Of course the games as a whole were ultimately wrong, but he and Sejanus knew it was better to start making smaller changes before they tackled something much bigger.

As a result of many, many meetings with Dr. Gaul, it was decided that the tributes would get 2 weeks to train and strategize, instead of only days to strategize and none to train. A facility was built for those who wished to hone their skills. Mentors would now be allowed to spend as much time with their tributes as they deemed necessary.

Instead of sleeping in a public zoo enclosure, an official tribute living quarters was built, with the rooms resembling hotel rooms rather than bare dorms. This idea came from Sejanus, who pointed out that many of the tributes would be coming from poor districts, and this was at least one thing that could make what they were going through a little less painful.

Coriolanus had been the one to suggest that each mentor should personally escort their tributes to both the arena, and where they’d be sleeping. Being crammed into that train car with Lucy Gray and all other tributes showed him yet another aspect that needed to change.

Luckily, Sejanus ended up offering Coriolanus and whoever his tribute was, to ride with them in one of his families cars. He didn’t know what he would’ve done otherwise.

The ride to greet their tributes at the train station was mostly silent. When Sejanus glanced at his friend, he figured Coriolanus was silent because he was just nervous considering what happened with Lucy Gray. And when Coriolanus glanced back, in reality he was debating whether or not to tell him that you were his soulmate. Sejanus had yet to meet his, but was also one of the many that wasn’t worried about it because he was still young.

In the end, Coriolanus decides not to tell his friend, at least not yet. Although he knows Sejanus wouldn’t use it against him, at the end of the day this is still a competition and they both still have tributes in the games. He also rationalizes this decision by telling himself that telling Sejanus wouldn’t do any good at this point anyway.

Once they arrive at the train station, neither boy is surprised that they’re the only 2 mentors there. Though the train is only 10 minutes away, they know that the other mentors are probably waiting until the last possible minute. That, or they’ll have their tribute wait at the station for a while before finally showing up.

As the train pulls in, Coriolanus begins to feel nervous. But it’s mixed with that nice feeling that comes when your soulmate is close by.

As you step out, he tries to hide his smile. Though this is the first time 2 soulmates are meeting, he knows that if he wants you to stay alive, he has to think like a mentor. And that means focusing on the games. None of the other mentors, besides Sejanus eventually, can know what you mean to him.

Archer helps you off of the train, and he becomes visibly relieved when he sees Coriolanus and Sejanus standing next to each other.

You keep a tight grip on Archer, who held his arm out so that you could hold it as you both walked. Once you walk the short distance to the boys, you slowly let go.

“Hi,” you speak softly.

Coriolanus steps forward to take your hands in his, but stops as he remembers where he is. As he looks around, he realizes he was right. It’s been a few minutes since the tributes arrived and the other mentors are only just now approaching the train.

“You okay?” Archer looks down at you, concern written all over his face.

In lieu of a verbal response, you simply nod.

“We should get to the car so we can show you guys where you’ll be staying for the next two weeks,” Sejanus nods his head, you guess in the direction of where the car is.

Once you all approach the vehicle, Sejanus says he and Archer will take the back row, and you and Coriolanus can take the middle.

Archer breaks the silence and asks the first question, knowing you’re too nervous to.

“So — how does this work? Once we get to the — the place?”

“Where you’ll be staying?” When Archer nods, Sejanus continues. “Since it’s already pretty late in the day, today doesn’t actually count as day one. That’s tomorrow, and from then you’ll have two weeks to train and make whatever preparations you need to for the games. The training facility is on the same property, so you don’t have to do any traveling.”

You think for a moment before finally working up the courage to ask your question. “The — Lucky Flickerman said that this years arena is going to be completely different since last years one was mostly destroyed. Do you know…?”

Sadly, Sejanus shakes his head. “Sorry, I wish we did. They’re keeping us in the dark until we all tour the place tomorrow.”

Hoping it’s subtle enough that Archer and Sejanus don’t see his movements, Coriolanus slowly moves his hand closer to yours, before gently resting it on top.

Sensing he doesn’t want anyone else in the car to know, you turn and mouth “thank you”.

“Will you guys be with us when we train?”

Coriolanus nods. “Most days, yes. Two days are technically to show off your learned skills to those in charge of the games, and mentors aren’t allowed for that. It is optional for mentors to be there every day, but Sejanus and I will be.”

It may be selfish, but you’re glad you’ll have so much time with him before the games. You know the odds of you actually winning the entire thing, and you’re just thankful that you’ll have at least 2 weeks with your soulmate.

After what feels like an eternity but was really less than 20 minutes, the car finally slows before coming to a complete stop. This time, Coriolanus exits first and helps you step down. When you let go of his hand, you find yourself immediately wanting to hold it again.

The first thing he and Sejanus notice, is yours and Archer’s reaction to the tributes living facility. It really does look like a fancy hotel from the outside.

“It basically is,” Sejanus gives you and Archer a sad smile. You can feel your face growing warm. You didn’t realize that you’d said that out loud. “They agreed that tributes can’t be forced to sleep in… well I’m sure you guys saw it last year. Coryo and I were actually two of the people that convinced them to make the living arrangements a lot better. There are still pretty strict rules though, and that we had nothing to do with.”

“Like — like what?” You ask, speaking up for only the second time since stepping off of the train.

Coriolanus tries to ignore the feeling he gets just from hearing your voice. He didn’t realize soulmate feelings would be so intense.

At that moment, you all step onto the elevator, and the ride up to the 12th floor is silent. When Coriolanus twists the key into the lock and pushes the door open, you can’t help but gasp.

(pretend the bottom is just part of the main entrance)

“So, they do want to keep a close tab on all tributes, and because of that when you’re outside of your rooms you’ll be given bracelets with trackers. They wouldn’t tell us why, but outside of training they want tribute interactions to a minimum so other than everyone having breakfast and dinner at the same time, no one is allowed out of their rooms unless training or given special permission. Also because of that, the doors lock from the outside. But mentors have keys so we’ll be able to come see you guys whenever we can.”

When the 4 of you reach the massive walk-in closet, you and Archer are surprised to find it full of clothes. At a quick glance, most of the clothes are for training. But there’s also a tux for Archer and an extremely expensive looking gown for you.

Once you’ve finished touring the entire room, Sejanus and Archer step out onto the balcony, leaving you and Coriolanus alone for the first time.

Anxiety begins to take over you once again. “We’re… we’re trapped in our rooms?”

Finally feeling comfortable enough to do so, Coriolanus takes your hands in his and steps closer. “Nothing will happen to you while you’re here. I swear it.”

“But you’re not here at night, right? What if someone is somehow able to get in and…”

“I know you have no reason to trust me yet. After what happened last year and how I let—”

You shake your head. “It’s not that, I promise. I know it’s probably the soulmate bond talking but I do trust you, with my life. I saw last years games. I know that what happened to Lucy Gray wasn’t your fault. You didn’t let anything happen. You did everything you could to help her win, and she should’ve won but the system failed her. Not you. It’s not you I don’t trust, it’s everyone else.”

Coriolanus gives you a sad smile, allowing himself a brief moment to lift his hand up and gently place it on your cheek. “I swear to you, I will make sure you come home.” He has to refrain himself from saying home to me.

“I know you said mentors have the option of being at training every day but that they don’t have to. Are you sure you —”

“Yes,” he nods. “I’ll be there every day.”

Sejanus and Archer re-enter the room just then, and you and Coriolanus take a few steps apart.

“We have to get going,” Sejanus nods towards the door. “But we’ll be back first thing in the morning. Tributes aren’t meeting until tomorrow so they’ll be bringing dinner up to your rooms tonight.”

You and Archer walk with them to the door, and Sejanus says his goodbyes before heading back down the hallway. Coriolanus tells him he’ll catch up in a minute.

“I’m gonna go have a shower,” Archer glances between you and Coriolanus before heading off in search of the bathroom.

“I can’t stay long or he’ll know something is up,” Coriolanus speaks softly. “I promise we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

You nod and stand on your toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Like I said, I trust you.”

Before he can overthink once again, Coriolanus takes a step forward, this time putting his hands on either side of your face.

“I will do whatever it takes to make sure you come home. I will keep you safe.” With that, he places a soft kiss on your forehead and smiles at you once more before turning around and leaving.

He knows that if he doesn’t leave right then, if he stays even one moment longer, he may not be able to walk away.

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