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Mining Raise Bore Drilling with Laxyo Energy
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maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader
a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️
you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.
not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.
“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.
“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”
“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”
you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”
time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.
the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.
“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.
before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.
you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”
satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”
ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.
he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.
you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”
satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.
his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”
ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”
satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.
“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”
you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”
satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.
“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”
you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”
satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”
you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.
you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.
ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”
ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.
he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”
you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”
he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”
“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.
he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.
“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”
he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”
he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.
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Ryomen Sukuna
TW: suggestive noncon, threats, Sukuna in general
gn reader
Thinking about sorcerer ! reader – only instead of having a really offensive technique, it's purely defensive.
A power to pacify. Creating the ultimate stalemate. All attacks are nullified – people can’t even throw one measly punch your way.
– which obviously means you’re the ultimate babysitter for trigger-happy curses like Sukuna.
The only issue is…. you don’t at all behave in accordance with your technique.
You are perhaps the most childish and bratty sorcerer he’s ever been forced to share air with. Even worse than that white-haired prick. Where with him – he could at least spar. But you? You just monitor him while making the most meaningless and ever-so-grating conversation.
“I read in an old book that you’re a cannibal.” You muse with a smile. Eyes vibrant with curiosity – playful even – as though the prospect of him eating human flesh shouldn’t be making your own skin run raw with goosebumps. “Is that true?”
His brow raises at your eagerness. His mouth is a prim line before muttering an unenthusiastic. “Yes.”
“Really?” You jump. “Why? Does it taste good?”
It’s an awfully stupid question – he thinks with an ever-growing wrinkle furrowing his brows. But suppose explaining to you how it’s meant to strike fear into people’s hearts would only make you laugh.
He huffs.
“Tastes like meat.”
“Right~” You sing-song as though it was a satisfying answer – but then almost immediately add onto it. “So, like chicken or beef?”
You really are such a nuisance, he thinks. Grumbling. “Pig.”
You hum – then smack your lips. And he feels another onset of annoyance – expecting another moronic query to come pouring gracelessly from your lips.
“You’re a little disappointing – you know that?” You say instead.
He picks his head up at that – finally looking back at you through the bars of his cell to where you sit opposite way on a chair – looking straight back at him, fearing no harm.
There are about a million seals covering the walls, keeping him trapped. Though you’d feel just as safe without them.
“I’d thought you’d have more to say, but…” You pout. “Turns out you’re just boring.”
His nose makes an offended scrunch – eyes narrowed. “Watch how you speak to me.”
You laugh – your chuckle in itself is something that makes the hairs at the back of his neck rise out of ire. That smug smile on your face enough to have his fists ball at his sides – and at the moment you lick your lips, saying, “Or what?” he’s already on his feet with his hands wrapped tight around the bars – knuckles turning white in his grip.
His skin sizzles from the cursed energy imbued in the metal – like holy water to a demon – and still, he doesn’t let go. Four eyes, blood red, glaring at you with a look that’s nothing short of deadly. If he could, you knew he’d have your heart in his hand forever ago. But the fact that he doesn’t – the fact that he can’t – only makes your grin ever sharper.
“Wow~” You tease. “Look at that face~” Giggling. “So scary~”
His nostrils flare as he releases the bars. Hands healed shortly after. “One of these days, brat – I’ll have you on your knees.”
You feign a gasp. “Sukuna~ so indecent~” Your grin lessens into a coy smirk. “To think the King of Curses is flirting with little ole me~” You bite your lip, looking kittenish – eyes amused while watching him recede into the dark of his cell.
You break from the act with another laugh.
Beginning anew. “I do have a question, though.”
“Naturally.” He mutters, stretching his arms – all four – one pair above his head and the other behind his back.
“Are you double-packed down there as well? The same with the rest of you? Or~”
His spine cracks between tensed shoulders – and you think, to be a thousand-year-old specter, he’s awfully easy to rile up.
But then he laughs – a throaty, low-tuned snicker that echoes against the cell walls.
“As I said – one of these days…” He walks up to the bars again, his chin fitting through them. “You’ll find out.”
There’s another chuckle – his eyes slim with something that makes you feel naked. Suddenly flushed – smile gone – you watch him lick his lips.
“And to answer your next question, you insufferable brat.”
You gulp.
“I think you’ll taste like peaches.”
#yandere sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna jjk#ryoumen sukuna#jjk sukuna#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#jjk imagines#jjk#jjk x reader#yandere jjk#yandere sukuna ryomen#yandere sukuna#yandere ryomen sukuna
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Still got it
Artwork by Mmiyoart (2021)
The kids are teenagers, so you and Kento are just their boring parents...right?
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Imagine you and Nanami Kento as parents, but older now, in your forties, and the kids are teenagers at Jujutsu High (much to Kento's displeasure and concern).
The two of you always kept your work life separate to home; the kids knew what the two of you do of course, they all know Curses and Cursed techniques, your two daughters and a son being in possession of these talents themselves.
But you and Kento never come home in mission-wear. You're always patched up by Shoko, one of your oldest and dearest friends, before you walk through the door. Kento never winces as he cooks dinner in a fresh shirt, but behind your bedroom door at night, you gently push his shirt off his shoulders and bathe his wounds, gently kissing his bruises, his head resting back between your breasts as your arms curl round him from behind. You never discuss your kills in front of the kids, the evenings instead, full of talk of exams, arguments with best friends, chastising for using phones at dinner time.
You and Kento make sure you barely overlap at Jujutsu High, teaching students in the other years instead. Your daughters and your son know, in a vague way, that you're both respected First and Second Grade sorcerers in your own right, but to them you're just mum and dad.
Until, one day, that changes. Your three kids, all promising Second Grade sorcerers, and committed to the cause, get into trouble. The Curse they're sent to eliminate is so much stronger than they imagined. Your eldest daughter fights on bravely as your son carries their sister, wounded, to safety. All three are filled with terror as the Curse begins to overwhelm them, their short lives with you and Kento, their adoring parents, flashing in front of their eyes, wondering how the two of you would ever recover from their deaths.
Then, in a flash of black and red, Nanami Kento steps into the fight. A colossal wave of Cursed energy rolls over the children, stunned, breathless, eyes wide as their father, who does maths homework with them, who kisses them all goodnight at bedtime, who bakes at the weekends, instead now ruthlessly, effortlessly wipes the floor with the Curse that nearly killed his babies.
Kento is a demon in battle, tie ripped off, blunt blade whirling, his battle-hardened body just as imposing and lithe as it was in the years before the kids were born. The hands that held theirs when they were tiny, that threw them around ever-so-gently during play-fights, now wielded as weapons with murderous intent.
Even more alarmed are the children, when you appear beside Kento, and as the Curse staggers on its last legs, they hear you shout to Kento- "Throw me!" and, with not an ounce of hesitation, Kento tosses you like a rugby ball, for you to land the killing blow on the Curse.
You are smooth, meticulous, concentrated while making light work of a messy job. The children hear their father hum in approval of you as you take the Curse to task for its crimes against your babies.
Not even sparing the withering corpse a glance, you and Kento rush to your children. You hold your son and eldest daughter's faces, eyes full of tears as you check them all over for damage, their hearts swelling when you praise them for taking care of each other, for doing such a fantastic job holding out until you both arrived.
Kento drops to his knees beside his wounded youngest daughter, gripping her close to him, no less mighty and powerful after years of marriage and raising children. Nanami Kento manages the first and only reverse-cursed technique heal of his whole life, and repairs his daughter's wounds. He holds her to him and weeps quietly as she reassures him, wholly her mother's daughter. Kento grips his son gently around the back of the neck, pulling him down for a tight hug, his son almost breaking at Kento's familiar rumble praising him for prioritising his sister's safety, telling his son he's so proud of the man he's becoming.
Days later, and with the children now recovered, rumours of Nanami-sensei and Nanami-sensei's scathing criticism of and attack on the higher-ups is the talk of the Jujutsu High students. The children are silent throughout, still stunned by the overwhelming skill of their parents.
One of the other students jokingly raises the incident to your kids one day; "Oh man. I wouldn't like to have your parents mad at me. I'd never get over disappointing them."
"Are they...that much of a big deal?" your son asks his friend weakly. His friend raises his eyebrows, amazed, laughing.
"You mean the one and only legends, the Nanami-sensei's? Who the hell did you guys think raised you?"
You and Kento walk down the steps towards them, hands brushing together but not holding, keen to maintain professionalism at school. The children watch as your eyes meet his, love passing between you both, and wonder how they had thought of you as their boring mum and dad for all these years.
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#kento nanami x you#nanami fluff#jujustu kaisen#kento nanami#kento nanami x y/n#jjk nanami#jjk#jjk fluff#kento nanami x reader#jjk drabbles#nanami kento drabble#nanami headcanons#nanami kento#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#nanami#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#jjk kento
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▨ "our child is an angel"
JJK characters when called into teacher's office about their child
Characters : gojo, toji, nanami, sukuna
Genre : fluff, crack
Warnings : I use female pronouns
A/n : Toji is not a deadbeat dad in this one because yeah. Wish he was canonical a hot dilf but we can never get what we want where Gege is concerned 😟
⟢ gojo satoru ␥
"When your son was asked to wait to go to the bathroom, he replied 'I will pee on your floor then bitch.'" The teacher spoke solemnly.
Satoru immediately snorted which you gave him a death glare for, pinching his thigh harshly.
You frowned," Well, before I question why the teacher denied bathroom privileges..." you turned to your husband. Your son was pouting next to you both, looking away with narrowed eyes," That doesn't sound like him at all, does it Satoru?"
Satoru immediately agreed with you, shaking his head," N-no. Not at all. Who taught you that language, kiddo?"
His son looked at him with a betrayed expression, pointing at him accusingly "YOU did!" He exclaimed.
Satoru's smile was pained as you slowly turned your head to him, eyebrows furrowing,"... Thank you for your time, Mrs. Fiyumi. I will have a stern talking. With BOTH of them." Then you gave her the brightest smile," I think it's all the candy they've been eating, I think maybe it's time to cut down on it all, yeah?"
The teacher nodded in agreement with a knowing smile," Yes, I agree."
The two males simultaneously slouched back into their chairs with loud groans which they covered up with coughs when you glared at them.
Satoru mustered a charming grin, settling a loving hand on your shoulder," I've been meaning to go on a diet anyways, haha..."
You rolled your eyes and patted his hand with yours in a pitying way," shut up, my love."
"Dad! Grow a backbone, you lanky idiot!" Your son scoffed out disapprovingly.
The white-haired man's charming grin fell instantly and he glared beneath his glasses," shut up you-"
⟢ nanami kento ␥
"Yes, your daughter got into a fight with one of the boys and managed to split his lip." The teacher gestured to the little girl in the chair who was sitting oh so politely.
Nanami hummed lowly, brows furrowed," not good." He said with that disappointed drawl to his tone that could make anybody curl into themselves with shame, his own daughter cringing to herself.
You merely raised a brow at your daughter," That right? So she won?" You asked bluntly.
A warm hand settled on your knee, squeezing lovingly and as a warning," not the point, love." Nanami grunted out disapprovingly.
The girl grinned with her cute gap-tooth, blue eyes glinting with pride as she looked to her mother," I won!!" She chirped," he pulled my hair so I split his lip!"
Her parents stared on in silence before Nanami gave her a small smile filled with warmth," Good girl."
⟢ ryomen sukuna ␥
"Your daughter punched Midori-"
Sukuna held up a hand," Don't need to hear it. Let's go." He began to stand up, tugging his little girl by the hood of her hoodie.
You shook your head in disapproval at your husband and looked to the teacher," I'm sorry, can you give me more context?"
Sukuna scoffed," Babe. Its obviously about that rich kid again. The little shit who bullies her? Yeah. Don't give a fuck. I'm proud of my fuckin' daughter." He glared at the teacher and walked out of the room with his daughter following anxiously behind.
Your eye twitched before you stood up slowly, offering a pained smile to lighten the load," well, you heard the man. Thanks." You left as well, not before tugging on your husband's ear like a mother and giving your girl a kiss on the forehead and a promise of ice cream.
Sukuna crouched down to her level and pinched his daughter's cheek with a bored expression, eyes glinting in amusement at the sight of her nose scrunching up at the actions," Next time? Put her through endless torture and misery. I can teach you a few techniques--"
You had to step in before your husband created a potential serial killer.
⟢ fushiguro toji ␥
"Megumi got into a fight aga-"
Toji let out an obnoxiously loud yawn, wiping away the sleepy dust from his eyes as his wife fretted over their son's messy black hair.
"Ugh, I swear your hair drives me crazy, Megs. You definitely didn't get it from my genes." You muttered as you tried to smooth out the strands.
Megumi merely sighed and pushed your hands away with an uncomfortable frown etched onto his face," Mom. Listen to Mrs. Fiyumi." He scolded lightly.
"I am, I am." You whined to him, turning to face the teacher with a frown on your lips.
"You too, dad."
Toji blinked at his son before scoffing," I was, I was." He let out a fatherly grunt as he sat straight in his chair, large hand resting on your thigh as he did, looking to the teacher in boredom.
The teacher cleared her throat, giving the small child a thankful nod for keeping his parents in check," As I was saying, little Megumi got into a fight with a boy yesterday. This behaviour seems very unlike him, so I was just worried if there's anything going on at home lately that's stressing him out?"
Megumi's brows furrowed but he didn't open his mouth, sitting politely in his chair. You hummed," Well, I suppose he hasn't been getting a good amount of sleep lately. But that's all I can think of." You settled a hand on your husband's that was caressing your thigh gently.
Toji hummed," just apologise, Megs. An' we'll be on our way." He grumbled to his son, waving his free hand dismissively.
Megumi cleared his throat and stood up, bowing to his teacher, which shocked her a little," I'm sorry, Mrs. Fiyumi. I won't hit anyone again." When he stood to his full-height, he looked her straight in the eye," I hope your failed marriage is getting better." He stated in such a polite and genuine manner.
Toji bursted out laughing - cackling like a witch whilst you stared at your son in complete horror, tugging his hair scoldingly.
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#nanami x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#toji x you#toji x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader
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★ 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀
masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that Miguel is the bane of your existence, the way you react during training proves otherwise.
─── ☆ notes. i need fics of miguel being an absolute dick, like a petty bitch just for the hell of it i need more attitude yk? Like if that man isn't calling me a slut it ain't canon! | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
─── ☆ length. 4.3k (33 min read).
─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | no spoilers | smut, enemies to lovers, maybe mutual pining, fighting and violence, semi public sex, gym sex, mentions of abuse, size difference, pain kink, strength kink, degradation kink, manhandling, power play(?), begging, rough sex, cervix kissing, choking, fangs, biting, marking, cunnilingus, eye contact, hair pulling, creampie, open ended, not an taiyo fic without a few typos.
IF YOU ASKED any of the other Spider-men what they loved so much about being Spider-Man, their answers would all be the same, ranging from "the suit" to "the enhanced abilities." It was a no-brainer that being a superhero came with a few awesome perks.
Which was why your answer was just a bit confusing, "the combat." You would always smile, despite the many eyebrows raises and looks that convinced you you had to be some type of overcover masochist, especially since you would never really go into true detail about why.
Your reasoning behind putting on the mask was similar to all the others: another traumatized kid being thrown into a whole new reality that you never would have dreamed of being possible.
Sadly, you had been raised with the loss of most of your loved ones, and your family was in shambles from the abuse you would go through from them. It was the reason why it was difficult for you to grow up and make many friends, let alone navigate your abilities on your own accord, which was why it was a whole different ball game when you first joined the spider society.
When you first met Miguel O'Hara, you thought he was an overly intimidating man with an even more scary personality. Your aesthetics and morals would clash in the first few run-ins you would have with him.
In all honesty, you first thought him to be a massive dick who surprisingly needed more therapy than you did. From his bored expression to his unnerving glare, it was clear upon the first introduction that you two just would not get along.
Which was why the universe made him the only spider person willing and with enough free time to train you. It came as a surprise to you both, who are usually butting heads. Miguel was adamant about not wanting to waste his time training some little girl who didn't even know how to throw a punch.
With much shit-talking on your part and a lot of teasing claims of him being afraid that you were going to kick your ass, training had quite literally started in full swing.
It was probably a bad move on your part to push the buttons of the guy who was teaching you how to fight. Miguel was clear with his fight-style techniques. He was nimble with his limbs and swift on his feet. It was hard for anyone to get a hit on him, especially since he wasn't the type to hold back his punches.
His teaching style was the same: your sessions included throwing you around as if you were some ragdoll and picking you up as if you weighed nothing, just to slam you into the ground with full bruising force.
There would be some very rare occasions when you would manage to get the upper hand on him. Miguel was about a foot taller than you, not to mention how pathetically compressed you looked standing next to him. You learned that the only way you could manage to get the upper hand was by using your size difference to your advantage.
All the sessions you won were hosted by you managing to tangle yourself from his claws and climb his towering figure into a headlock, praying that you had enough strength in your legs to make him tap out.
"How is she not dead yet?" Miles would mutter, looking concerned, as he stood from the sidelines of the training room, watching one of your sessions, as the blonde by his side didn't even wince at the sound of Miguel untangling you from the headlock you had him in.
His arms moved faster than you could process as he managed to loosen your hold enough to slam the air from your lungs as you fell back facing against the mat so hard that even Miles was convinced he could feel the blow in the lower spine.
"I mean, at this point, I'm kind of convinced she’s turned into his personal punching bag." Miles strains to watch Miguel not even wipe a sweat as he sprung back on his feet. He stretched out his full body, towering over you, curled flat against the mat, trying to collect your breathing as well as your broken ego.
Gwen nodded in agreement. "I don't even know how someone could hit someone so...squishy? She’s just so cute." She muttered, watching with her arms crossed.
"This punching bag needs to learn that in the real world, people aren't going to go as easy on her just because she’s cute." Miguel, despite glaring at the two bystanders, leaned down and yanked you back onto your stumbling feet.
Your fingers combed through the matted curls now drenched in sweat away from your forehead, using your water break as the perfect excuse to help cover up the reaction to the sudden compliment that came from his lips and the way he had made you feel.
"And her being my personal punching bag is completely at her fault, if you want to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to take a few punches." You couldn't help but roll your eyes and wave your hand out in annoyance at another one of Miguel O’Hara’s famous lectures.
"I’m not a punching bag, did you not see the hold I had on him early?" You huffed, almost choking on your water, trying to protest. Gwen humored your claim, the blonde reaching out and rubbing your shoulder out of support as you continued with your defense. "Any tighter, and I would have easily snapped his neck."
Of course, Miguel only smirked as you continued grasping at straws at the point of trying to prove to your friends your improvement, his eyes flitting back and forth at the exchange, expressionless at the sight of you managing to still joke around as if you weren't about to pass out from fatigue at any second.
"And was that before or after the part where I kicked your ass, little girl?" He shot out, chipping away at the final lock that held back your annoyance, you hadn't even had time to process the insult before he bumped his shoulder into you on his way out of the training room.
His rude exit enticed a round of reactions from Miles and Gwen trying their awkward best to comfort the boiling pot of anger they saw written all over your face, rolling your eyes, you pushed past the two, not without grumbling a string of insults in Miguel’s name to the washrooms.
You blessed the spider lords for somehow having the ability to shower under running water, let alone the unexplainable strange amount of amenities that the spider society dimensions had.
Like a web shooter's wonderland, you quickly shed the sweating clothes you trained in and stepped foot into the cold cubicle shower booth, letting the water run for a bit until enough steam fogged clouded stepping under the stream. Even with the hot water splashing pressure against your aching muscles, no amount of water could manage to wash away the annoying feeling in your legs.
It was enough of a jab at your pride to even find Miguel attractive in the first place, and here your body was betraying you once more, begging, throbbing desperately for his every touch in its every form, and having the nerve to grow more intense during your training.
The feeling had yet to fully disappear the next day, even with your session starting off with you fueled from yesterday's comments. You tried pushing the feeling as you were just ready to have Miguel mutter another word insult with the ass kick you were ready to give him. It was the only possible explanation for why you were so jittery about getting to training on time.
"It took you long enough." Was the first thing you heard Miguel announce throughout the empty room.
He wasn’t wearing his suit—neither of you did while training—instead, he was wearing dark gray sweatpants paired with some random dark red graphic shirt that fit him a bit too snuggly to leave room for imagination around his arms.
"Almost thought you were gonna skip out."
You were aware enough to spot this quick observation of your outfit as well. Keeping it casual and opting for better mobility, you shimmied yourself into plain Nike shorts that stopped higher up than you had expected them to on your thighs with a loose tank top that peeked out the straps of your sports bra.
Nothing about your clothes screamed attention grabbing—at least that's what you thought before you caught Miguel’s red-tinted stare on the way your shorts hugged your thighs.
He glanced away, muttering something in Spanish you couldn't quite translate the moment your fingers fidgeted with the bottom hems of the shorts, tugging them slightly more down while deciding to break the tense silence that had managed to sneak up on you. "So what are we doing today?"
"Huh, I’ve been thinking." He answered, followed by the clearing of his throat, "We try something a little different." You could never get used to the roughness of his voice or the way he spoke with so much arrogance that it reminded just about everyone that he thought he was better than just about everyone.
Even now that you stepped towards the middle of the mat, standing rigidly just a few paces away from him, you could tell from that stupid, cocky expression as he stood looking down at you that there was no possible way that he would ever see you as a real threat. "I want you to try to hit me."
Your brows creased together in confusion.
"What?" was all you asked, which seemed to be the wrong question to ask as Miguel stretched out a sigh from his mouth, his hands coming close to his to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"I said hit me." He speaks more slowly, making sure to mockingly over pronounce every symbol in every word as if you were a child. "Preferably soon and as hard as you can." A grimace finds itself twisting on your lips before you can even process your bubbling annoyance. Your body moved on autopilot because of your keen senses, jumping over the swing of his left leg with ease.
You couldn't say that swift grace stuck with your attempt at a counterattack. Bending your knee just enough to reach out and kick, you were only met with the bottom of your foot stomping flat against the floor mat and Miguel dodging your kick, standing just a few paces away. "Too predictable," he scolded in that annoyingly deep voice you hated oh so much and totally did not turn on you at all. You sprung yourself up by the heels of your feet and charged at him with full determination to land at least one punch on his stupidly chiseled, handsome face.
It had been your second mistake, giving him too much time to brace himself. Already regretting your emotionally impulsive start, resulting in the punch you swung being easily deflected by Miguel.
His hand wrapped entirely around your wrist, bending your arm almost out of your socket and kicking the back of your knee to the mat with his heel. You feel down to a kneel with a hissing pain in your arm threatening to get worse at any wrong twist.
"Lose that fucking attitude, or you’ll get sloppy." As if your body could radiate any more anger, you knew he was just trying to push your buttons, trying to throw you off your game with smack talk that was not working on you or anything.
"Again," he prompted, letting your arm go and stepping back, egging on another attack from you.
"Give me a damn minute." No matter how much you wanted to snap back at him with something snarky, you knew it would only prove his point entirely—not only that but also the fact that he was mentally hitting you in all the places that he knew counted the most to throw you off your game.
Biting back the insult you already had threatened to slip from your tongue instead of making a point by rolling your eyes as you stumbled back to your feet. Rolling your sore shoulder back as your eyes scan over his stance, trying to find the best opening for a better attack, you steady your breath and cloud your mind in thought. "You aren't going to get anywhere but dead standing around like that, you know."
So much for wanting to consider your options. Miguel took the first swing at you and was on the verge of kicking you on your ass if it weren't for your shoddy dodge.
"Didn't you just say I had to be less fucking predictable?" You snarled, lifting your foot with most of your weight pointed in the direction of his jaw. Surprisingly, the kick landed just not in the place you wanted it to; instead, Miguel’s arm blocked the blow, much to your annoyance.
"I also said—" All he was doing was using dodging moves on you, swiping your other foot from under you as he held the other one that you kicked up in his arm, resulting in you landing once again flat on your ass. "to lose that fucking attitude."
You had not gone down without a fight, twisting and kicking, trying to wrestle your limbs free by any means. Miguel had almost embarrassingly quickly ceased your squirming, his palm cuffing your arms and pressing hard against your chest as his other hand pressed tightly into your thighs, folding your legs in place under his hips.
The position was interesting, to say the least, but you still had some fight in you, wiggling against his grip with any strength you had left to break free. It was a useless battle, but the man had his grip around you tight as well as an overpowering size difference that blanketed your entire figure like one big rock.
And that's how you caught yourself in another web of misfortune. Your nerves are surging at the feeling of something—him brushing against your calf. Maybe it was all the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the fact that you were practically being manhandled so easily that did another thing to your body, or maybe it was just pure horny instability that your brain couldn't even process the lewd whine that tugged from your throat after the fact that it had happened.
Watching in pure horror as Miguel loomed on top of you, his mouth slightly agape as his chest heaved and his brows pulled together, the embarrassment from his confused, almost offended looking expression hit you fast. Here your body was betraying you once more, this time going absolutely haywire and melting like a stupid pile of putty at the fact that you were being body pressed against some mat with some guy's hard junk pressed into your leg.
You couldn't bear to even look him in the eye anymore, your head tilting to the side, pressing your cheek into the mat, and squeezing your eyes closed, not suddenly envying the spidermen with teleportation powers. "Fucking Christ, can you get off now?"
A beat of silence hovered between the small distance between you two, neither moving nor talking. It was starting to become unbearable how tightly Miguel had folded your legs against him, in the sense that you could already feel his body heat radiating. The close proximity did not help with how unbearably your heart was beating against your chest. "How do you manage after all of that to still have that shameless fucking attitude?"
You stilled at how his voice had managed to cut through your own thick cloud of betraying thoughts as well as the ringing in your eardrums. "Shameless? As if you don't have your dick pressed against me right now."
"By the sounds of it, you don't seem that bothered at all." Miguel taunted, You thought you were bound to die of embarrassment.
Yeah, this is how you went out—by dying from the sheer effect of your own extremely horny though—not some overpowered supervillain with a vendetta against you but Miguel O'Hara and his dick print.
You could already hear the new taunts that he would use against you, "Not even in your fucking dreams." being the only comeback that you could muster, your limbs tingling with slight pins and needles, threatening to go stiff under his unbound grasp.
"Oh, like you wouldn't love to," he sneered, shifting the weight from his hips flat against your thighs. "Probably thinking about me taking off these tight fucking shorts and having my way with you?" Your body reacted first to the accusation, cursing under your breath as you felt your second heartbeat flutter in between your legs.
His lingering stare hadn't helped one bit, and you watched from the sidelines as his eyes raked over your body with interest.
"I bet this was your plan the entire fucking time, huh?" He asked, leaning in as the distance dwindled until you could feel the brush of his breath against your face. "Put on some sweet naive act in front of everyone, knowing that you're getting yourself off on me throwing you around, touching yourself like some bitch in heat."
You hadn't bothered covering the whine that parted from your lips at the feeling of his erection slowly rutting against your thigh, the cocky smirk on his lips wanting you to melt away against the mat.
Miguel practically growled at the pathetic sounds that parted from your lips, tugging your legs apart to rut his hips down against your core. You shivered at the intrusion of his bulge pressed against your eagerness, the foreign feeling of him grinding against you left your thoughts in a dizzy fog.
"What? Can’t fucking speak now," he said as if he were dangling your most prized possession in front of your face, his fingers creeping into dangerous territory, making it a point for his fingertips to drag down your lower torso only to halt right above the elastic waistband of your shorts. "Go on, use your words."
"...fuck you."
The small amount of distance made the space between you two fall tensely thick, and the words spoken from your lips were different from the feelings that made your heart thud against your ribs. You weren't stupid, you knew Miguel could sense it, he could sense just about everything about your body from how close he kneeled on top of you.
Maybe that was why he had closed the distance so quickly after, letting the tight grip around your wrists give way to his hand finding a new objective, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not bothering to be gentle as he guided your lips towards his. The kiss was as rough as you had dreamed it to be. Eager for each other's kiss, you couldn't even process the noise that vibrated sharply from your throat before Miguel could pull away first, leaving you panting for more of his touch.
"First time I've ever seen you so quiet," his deep taunts were starting to grow unbearable, shifting your hips at the brush of his fangs against the jugular of your neck with every word, "who knew all you needed was some dick?" The harsh kisses he left trailing down to your collarbone made you feel like a hot, needy mess of putty. If it weren't for the tight grasp he had on your body, you were convinced that you would feel like you'd melt into some type of puddle. The growing frustration had only started to build up more as Miguel let go of your thighs, his hand trailing between your legs ruthlessly as the bud of his fingers rubbed against your clothed pussy.
As for why you shifted your hips up and let him impatiently tug and yank at the bow knotted around the waist of your shorts, breaking away from the red splotching light bruises already forming against your brown skin and wiggling you out of your shorts, Miguel thought it was quite the image, his eyes were fixated on the drooling sight of you under him, so vulnerable with your thighs hugging to your chest, spread open, revealing yourself in your pants.
All sanity was thrown out the window the moment he tugged you closer by your knees, your lower half lifted in his arms just enough for him to sit face to face with your cunt. His eyes darkened, his pupils blown as his tongue lapped over his lips, leaving you feeling restless. It was a slow and almost painful battle of trying to reach down and shove his face closer or buck your hips as his fingers sheathed and explored themselves against the fabric of your underwear.
As if Miguel could read your mind, his fingers hooked the fabric under the bend of his finger, followed by a quick tearing sound. "I’ll get you new ones," the comfort emitting a whine from your throat as you couldn't even scowl at him for ruining your underwear because you were too busy admiring the work his fingers were doing. Without warning, Miguel leans in closer, the warmth of his mouth almost sending you into a frenzy as his fingers spread open your lips, his lips sucking at your clitoral area, prompting you to let out a very lewd moan.
"Too loud," Miguel mumbled against your pussy, too busy webbed up in your own pleasure to even notice how every embarrassedly sloppy wet noise had seemed to perfectly echo throughout the empty room. You couldn't even explain the number of emotions that were flowing through you, from shame from being tongue fucked and fingered against the floor about the one man you hated so much to bashfulness from holding eye contact with him as he lay between your legs and ate your pussy like he was starving for you.
"I can't help it," you whined, shivering at the string of spit that contacted Miguel as he lifted his head in an idea. It took a second to process Miguel picking you up and turning you on your stomach, his hands guiding your hips up and stripping your torn panties down your legs to stuff them in your mouth.
Without a word, Miguel grabbed your ass with another hand, guiding your lower back into an arch as the other made small indents from his nail bearing into your cheeks as he spread them apart.
Before you could even feel embarrassed at the new position, he shoved his face between them, your moan being muffled by your makeshift cloth gag that worked a bit too well in lowering your whines as Miguel’s mouth sought his tongue out for your pussy once more.
"You're close I can smell it," you almost missed Miguel's groan over your building ecstasy, "just let it go, baby, let me take care of you. That's what you want, right?" His voice is drastically different from his usual rough, rude tone, softened to something of a coo that has managed to unknot your pleasure with his tongue. Your body tensed against his mouth for a moment as he had the nerve to suck his fingers clean. No grace period was given before he could lift you once more with a grunt, laying you flat on your back.
Slotting himself back between his legs, Miguel chuckled at the dazed look on your face. "It's alright, baby, I can take it from here." taking the balled up drool covered panties from your mouth and instead replaced them with his lips. The sensual change of pace wasn't enough to stop the shiver that rid your nerves of the feeling of his bare cock rutting against your slit, using his thumb to spread your lips apart to sink his tip inside of you with a low hiss against your mouth.
A gasp left yours as his girthy length intruded deeper inside of you, the burying stretch of his dick having your nails roughly grasping at the nape neck of his hair tugging a handful as his pace hadn't bothered to even get familiar already. Miguel’s hips weren't letting out as he fucked you almost animalistic against the floor. You were convinced he was trying to fuck you into the mat, to be one with the floor, which would perfectly explain the rough pace that left you breathless with each piston of his hips.
The graphically lewd sounds of your weak groans were nothing compared to the pornographic sound of your skin meeting his, your brain empty with nothing but greed, wanting to take everything and more of what Miguel was giving you. His fingers reach to unwrap your fingers tangled in his hair to intertwine them in his. "That's it, mama, that's it," he whispers against the shell of your ear, earning a whimpering reply from you, almost close to spilling the tears clouding your waterline.
Your mind couldn't process anything other than how good Miguel’s dick felt being shoved inside of you, his cock dragging against your tight, flustering walls with each shaky breath brushed against your ear. Your cunt seemed to react to Miguel’s lashes tickling against your neck as his eyes screwed tightly shut, muttering a string of compliments in his mother tongue.
You weren't lucky enough to be more stable, surprised that your throat hasn't gone horse with how ruined your vocal cords sounded in the pace of his pistoning hips. Only going up an octave higher as one of Miguel’s hands reaches down to pay attention to your clit, he doesn't stop even when your limbs start to tremble from your climax.
With one last hard thrust, he finally stills, your name being the only thing you could make out through his mumbling as his unfamiliar warm sensation welcomed itself inside of you.
Groaning right in your ear, he cums inside of you with his entire dead weight pressed against you, caging you against the floor. "Alright," Miguel sighs, settling on top of you once more with his arms holding himself just a few inches away from your face. "Again."
🔖 @adonis-is-dead-lmaoo @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @inumakiiz @iheartlinds @creamyarishi @marzipaanz
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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099#spiderman#spiderman smut#marvel#into the spider verse
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A Wonderland Of Yanderes
World Building is here Part 2
It all started with that class.
The final class for the first week of the first semester. After all the chaos of coming to Twisted Wonderland, of being thrown into a world you don’t understand, a quiet weekend to start finding a way back is something you’ve been awaiting.
The classes here were chaotic but fun, and even interesting as a human from a world without any magic.
Making potions that could do so many different things in Alchemy. Speaking with animals or a cat that can't talk like Grim in Animal Languages. Riding broomsticks in Phys Ed. Even the boring classes like Magical History, learning of this world full of wonder and mystery, and Arithmancy, math was boring, but it was fun to learn that it’s the same in this world.
But out of all the classes this was the weirdest one of all.
It was called The Art of Ensnaring Hearts. About ‘darling control and protection’. It’s a weird sounding class, but even weirder, it’s a mandatory subject for all first years, which seems weird for what sounds like an elective. Still it’s just odd, not anything too weird.
The name is nothing that you’ve seen in any fantasy book or tv show in your world. But by now, you knew weird being dropped head first into an unknown world. By now anything new and weird should have been expected, understood, brushed aside as something to accept and move on.
So here you were sitting between Ace and Deuce in the lecture, Grim fast asleep on your lap, waiting for class you knew nothing about.
“I can’t believe they’re making us take this class.” Ace complains.
“Stop complaining Ace. It’s a really important class!” Deuce objects.
Ace whined his butt off the whole way here, complaining about how stupid it was that they had to attend it. Deuce on the other hand, was incredibly enthusiastic and you are completely in the dark for what this class is even about.
Ace shrugs, “Still, my folks and brother taught me all about this stuff. It’s a waste of time.”
“Not everyone has parents or siblings who can teach them about darlings, Ace.”
“Nothing personal Juice, but this class is going to be as boring as Magical History.”
“Well, if you know so much, what exactly is this class about?” You joke and they both look at you like you’ve grown a second head. "What?" you say, now uneasy.
“You don’t know?” Ace asks.
“What part about ‘I’m from another world’ keeps slipping your minds?” Your attempt at a joke falls flat, as they look at you in incredulity.
Deuce practically reels back in surprise, “N-No it’s just that it's so normal here. You don’t know what darlings are?”
You shake your head, “No, not really.”
A crack of a whip onto the blackboard calls your attention to Professor Crewel, "Alright pups, I have to do this every year so let's get this out of the way now. This class will provide you with any and every method, skill and technique to find, capture and control your future darlings, including evading the law in your respective homelands." Now, you're confused, why exactly is a school teaching students how to break the law?
"As you know Sage Island makes special accommodations for NRC and RSA students, all acts that may be forbidden in any of your hometowns, with the exception of Darling murder, will be pardoned and forgiven. In the case of a family investigation, the school will stage an accident so please do not butcher them beyond repair." No words or sounds slip from your lips, with you stunned silent in pure horror.
What pools in your stomach is hot dread mixed with cold fear. Just what exactly is this world? Murder can be excused here? It can be covered up, with only a slap on the wrist. You need some explanations and you need them now.
A student raises a hand, "Professor?"
"Yes, pup?"
"Why are there no darlings enrolled in Night Raven?"
"One too many murders on campus. A few too many mutts ran around unneutered and decided to draw blood." You smother your gasp a few seconds too late, as more than a third of the room turn to you, confused.
"Something wrong, pup?" Crewel raises an eyebrow at you. His eyes drill into your soul, inspecting, calculating.
"N-Nothing! I'm fine. Perfectly fine." Crewel doesn't push you on the subject, returning to his lecture.
You lean back in your seat, and the cold sweat on your body makes you shiver. Right now, you'll bite your tongue and hold back your horror.
You need to see Crowley, as soon as possible.
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : TABS OF THE MIND : :;
╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Wade Wilson x F!Reader
・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men
ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You use your mind-reading ability to explore Wade Wilson's thoughts and discover his chaotic but affectionate mental landscape. Among the many open tabs, you find a surprising section dedicated to his romantic feelings for you, complete with heartfelt and humorous entries. When you confront Wade about it, he’s both embarrassed and delighted, leading to a sweet and playful exchange that deepens your connection.
YOU HAD ALWAYS BEEN WARY OF POKING AROUND IN PEOPLE’S MINDS. The sheer amount of personal information, the jumble of thoughts and feelings—it could be overwhelming. But you’d made an exception for Wade Wilson, also known as Deadpool, partly out of curiosity and partly because you were just really, really bored one evening.
Wade had been unusually quiet—an anomaly you couldn't ignore. As you sat across from him in the living room, surrounded by a chaotic mess of his various weaponry and superhero paraphernalia, you decided to use your mind-reading abilities to see what was going on inside his head.
The mental dive into Wade’s brain was like stepping into a virtual reality game with no tutorial. It was an endless array of screens, tabs, and pop-ups, all crammed together in a dizzying whirlwind of chaotic thoughts. The metaphorical computer in his mind was running on overdrive, with so many tabs open it looked like a hacker's dream.
There was a tab labeled “Weapons Upgrades,” with a detailed list of modifications and their potential effectiveness. Another tab titled “Tacos” featured a passionate debate between various taco toppings. Scrolling through, you saw tabs on everything from “Recent Movie Reviews” to “Improvised Combat Techniques,” each one brimming with Wade’s characteristic fervor.
But then you stumbled upon a particularly interesting tab labeled “You.” It was nestled between “How to Annoy Cable” and “Top Ten Deadpool Fails.” Your curiosity piqued, you hesitated for a moment before clicking on it.
The tab opened up to a series of thoughts and fantasies about you. Wade’s mind was a blend of absurdity and sincerity. There were sketches of you in various heroic poses, doodles of you and Wade together in ridiculously romantic settings (including a taco-themed date), and a heartfelt but goofy list of reasons why he thought you were “totally awesome.”
One entry read: “Top 5 Reasons Why You’re the Coolest Ever: 1) You’re mind-reading is hot. 2) You laugh at my jokes (or at least pretend to). 3) You’re strong, smart, and have that killer smile. 4) You didn’t run screaming when you first saw me in my suit. 5) You’re my kind of crazy.”
Your heart melted a little as you scanned through these thoughts, seeing the genuine affection Wade had for you beneath his usual banter. It was sweet, and more than a little funny, especially given the ridiculous nature of some of his fantasies.
Wade looked up from his video game, catching your gaze with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Whatcha doing over there? Plotting world domination? Or maybe just how to fix my latest taco catastrophe?”
You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you closed the mental tabs. “Actually, I was just browsing your thoughts. Noticed you’ve got quite a lot of open tabs.”
He grinned, his eyes twinkling with playful innocence. “Yeah, my brain’s a bit of a mess. But it’s a fun mess. Anything you’d like to share?”
You leaned closer, teasing him. “Oh, just the fact that you have a whole section dedicated to me.”
Wade’s eyes widened comically, his grin widening. “Oh really? I didn’t know I was so… tab-worthy.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a warmth spread through you at his playful embarrassment. “Yeah, it’s quite the collection. You’ve got everything from doodles of us eating tacos together to a detailed list of why you think I’m amazing.”
Wade’s face flushed slightly, and he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Well, you know, it’s hard to keep a lid on how awesome you are. My brain just… explodes with thoughts about you. Most of them are totally sane and not at all over-the-top.”
You reached out and took his hand, the gesture softening his expression. “It’s sweet, Wade. Really.”
He looked at you with a mixture of relief and delight. “So, you’re not freaked out by my overactive imagination?”
You shook your head, smiling warmly. “Not at all. In fact, I think it’s kind of endearing.”
Wade’s grin returned with renewed vigor. “Well, in that case, I guess I should make sure the next tab is about our future taco dates.”
You laughed, squeezing his hand gently. “That sounds perfect.”
With that, Wade pulled you into a spontaneous hug, spinning you around with exuberant joy. “I knew you’d love it! I’ve got tons more tabs where that came from. Next one’s about how I’m going to impress you with my epic ninja moves. Spoiler alert: It might involve a lot of flailing.”
You rested your head against his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his embrace. “I look forward to it. But maybe let’s focus on the taco date first?”
He chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “Deal. Tacos first, epic ninja moves second. You got it.”
And as the two of you settled into your quirky, loving routine, you knew that Wade’s chaotic, endearing mind was a place you were more than happy to be a part of. The tabs of his heart were filled with an unconventional but undeniable affection, and you were thrilled to be the center of it all.
🏷️: @stargazingcarol
Thank you (and your friend ofc) for this adorable request! I really hope you enjoyed it :))
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#wade wilson x reader#deadpool x reader#deadpool imagine#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#wade wilson fluff#x men x reader
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when you take pictures in his phone
character(s) : sae, rin, kaiser
warning(s) : none
a/n : this is another repost from my old acc!!
SAE ITOSHI
usually, sae itoshi would be pissed off if someone touched his posessions without his permission
but with you, it’s a different story
maybe it’s partially his fault for inviting you out for dinner after his practice session
he shouldn’t have asked you to come to along with him knowing full well you would get bored
but he did, and that’s how he ends up scrolling through his photo album, dozens of selfies of you fill the 3x3 layout
if it’s anyone else, sae will not hesitate to insult their…photography techniques and immediately delete the photos
but this is you, his long-time friend and maybe—sae wishes in his heart— something even more than that
he looks up at you with a deadpan expression, trying to formulate the words to tell you off, but he doesn’t have the spirit to do that
“y/n, what is this?” he starts
“well, y’know, i got bored so i decided to pass time by messing with your phone. i didn’t get the chance to delete the pics but you can delete them now,” you admit
sae feels his heart drop for making you feel guilty about something seemingly harmless. but to be fair, he has no rizz doesn’t know how to react to situations like these, you are simply too cute
from the look your face, sae knows you think he’s mad at you when in fact, it’s quite the opposite
he finds your pictures stunning. you are softly smiling in them, sometimes even winking playfully
the poses and hand gestures in the photos are iconic, although the 0.5x zooms are his favorites
he has to resist the urge to set one as his lockscreen (but sadly you two were only friends for now)
sae decides, that one day he would tell you his feelings but until then he’ll continue giving you…hints
“why would i delete those pics? you look cute,” he locks his phone and stuff it in his pocket
sae’s decision to keep the pics is final as he beckons you out of the facility and into his car
you follow along with a blushing face and a stuttering heart
and oh- is that a smile on his face?
RIN ITOSHI
rin is scowling when he catches you red-handed as you take selfies on his phone
in your defense, it’s a joke, and you are planning on deleting the pictures
you’re good friends with rin, and naturally, you assume it’s okay for you to do that. you do that to all your other friends all the time, so there shouldn’t be a problem with rin, right?
you’re midway through pressing the round button for another selfie when you feel a presence next to you
you don’t even need to turn your head to know who it is, considering rin’s black hair is in the frame of the camera
you hurriedly put down the phone and immediately start to select the previously taken photos with the intent of deleting them
“what are you doing?” he questions as he peers down at your administrations
you regret your previous actions, considering this is itoshin rin, the most blunt person you know.
perhaps he doesn’t find this as funny or casual as you think he will
“i’m deleting these photos, sorry for invading your privacy,” you unconsciously pouts and he notices it
“what? hey, no, don’t do that,” he snatches his phone away from your grip
“why not? you’re obviously upset,” you gesture towards the scowl on his face
“i’m not upset, i just have a resting bitch face,” he clarifies, not daring to look at your face.
“it’s just…if you do this again, i want to take pics with you, too.”
“oh,” you raised your eyebrows, dumbfounded
OH. MY. GOD. HE WANTS TO WHAT???
“so you wanna take pics with me, huh?” a smug expression appears on your face.
rin stares back unimpressed
“i’m deleting these pics,” he selects all the pictures threateningly
“no don’t!!!” it was your turn to stop him now
MICHAEL KAISER
kaiser loves to tease you at any chance he gets
so when he catches you taking selfies on his phone, he is ready to make an embarassment out of you
but considering he’s head over heels for you himself, he thinks maybe he won’t embarrass you too much and let you off the hook for once
and besides, you’re quite bold for taking the michael kaiser’s phone and filling it with pictures of yourself, if he isn’t intrigued by you before, he definitely is now
so when you hear kaiser’s laid back tone calliing for your attention, you immediately hide his phone away from view, hoping that you would be able to delete your pics in time
but kaiser is faster, and he easily snatches the phone away from your seemingly vice grip
“daring to take pictures of yourself on my phone, i see?” he smirks and you so desperately want to wipe it off his face
“just delete those pics then,” you retort back knowing full well you’re in the wrong
“i never said anything about not liking them,” he teases, handing the phone back to you
“since you wanna take pics so much, let’s take one together,” he continues after seeing the perplexed look on your face
your eyes widen but you obey nonetheless, extending your arm to capture both of you in the frame
meanwhile, kaiser takes this opportunity to make you more flustered than you already are
he gingerly wraps his arms around you waist and pulls you close and proceeds to hide his face in the crook of your neck
the only thing visible to the camera was his side profile and the cocky smirk that still adorns his face
the proximity made you nervous and you hope he doesn’t make out your quickened heartbeat
you could feel kaiser’s hot breath on your collarbones and since when did his cologne smell so good???
“are you gonna take the picture or not?” he speaks up, breaking your train of thought
“of course i am,” you clear your throat
you internally hold your breath as you snap a pic and try to detangle yourself from kaiser right after
“hey, where are you going? i never told you to take just one,” kaiser holds you back in place
the way he looks at you tells you everything you need to know : he’s already figured out your little crush on him, hasn’t he?
#blue lock x you#blue lock x reader#blue lock x gender neutral reader#blue lock x y/n#bllk x y/n#bllk x gender neutral reader#bllk x reader#bllk x you#bllk#blue lock#itoshi rin x you#itoshi rin x y/n#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi x you#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi sae x you#itoshi sae x y/n#sae itoshi x y/n#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi x you#sae itoshi#itoshi sae#itoshi rin#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x you#michael kaiser x y/n#michael kaiser
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F.W. ~ Fred and George’s Room
Part 1 • Part 2
Summary: nothing beats a hot summers day hanging out at the burrow… except maybe a cold beer and two goofy gingers.
Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, alcohol
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Your POV
The summer was hot.
As July settled in, so did a resting heat. Even the walk to the lake seemed unbearable this week, so you settled in the house under Molly’s cooling charms and the occasional summer breeze. The younger of the lot were hunkered in the living room, playing chess in a competitive tournament. It was quite boring for those who got knocked out in the first round, so Fred and George dragged you up the winding staircase and into their bedroom. You were a little nervous going up to Fred’s room after everything that’s happened this summer, but you followed behind them anyway. You were never one to run away because of fear. The twins grinned at you as they pushed through the door. It had been only a year since you’d been in here, but the twins had managed to plaster most of their walls in posters. Their shelves were lined with all sorts of trinkets, and Fred’s cassette tape collection had doubled in size.
“Wow, where did you managed to get all of these?” You asked, plopping down on Fred’s mattress and touching the stack of tapes on his shelf. Fred came over and grabbed Nevermind off his shelf along with his Walkman.
“Been going to the muggle town a few miles away,” Fred popped the tape in with a grin. “Check this out.” He nodded to George who cast a nonverbal silencing charm on the room. Impressive. Fred muttered sonorus and placed his wand next to the headphones. The room filled with the sounds of Nirvana as Fred and George grinned at each other.
“You guys are geniuses! You have to bring it back to the dorm,” you beamed, jamming along to the rock music. Fred grabbed his guitar from the corner before plopping down beside you.
“Oh trust me, we’ll be bringing plenty back to Hogwarts,” Fred winked, earning a low chuckle from George.
“And don’t worry, Y/N. You’ll be the first to try our new creations,” George grinned evilly in your direction. You raised your brow as the twins began to laugh. You didn’t even want to know what they had in the works. It seemed like every year the twins came up with more ingenious inventions and charms. You looked around the room at the mix of muggle technology that had been enhanced by magic, like Fred’s guitar. You were continuously amazed by their talent, and couldn’t help but watch as Fred began to play Come As You Are. You watched his long fingers move across the fret. He’d gotten a lot better since the last time you heard him play. Of course it was hard to judge his playing technique when all you could focus on were his forearm muscles. You laid back on the bed with a sigh as you listened. You felt a breeze come in through the window as you played with the sheets on the bed. You figured that maybe Charlie’s room wasn’t the best in the house after all.
“You want a beer?” You heard George ask.
“Is it cold?” You sat up on the bed, earning a cheeky smile from the younger twin. He reached under his bed and pulled out a case of Carling.
“Why, of course. I would never offer you anything less,” he teased, pulling out a can and presenting it to you. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the cold can. Cooling charm.
“Thanks,” you said, cracking open the drink and humming in content. George gave one to Fred before cracking open his own and taking a long drink.
“Before you lot showed up here, all Fred did was play on that guitar,” George smacked his lips after his gulp of beer. Fred huffed out a laugh and shook his head.
“I’m actually making progress this year,” Fred stopped playing in favor of a drink, “thanks to all the music you recommended this past year.” He nudged you with a smile and kept playing. You blushed and drank, hoping the alcohol would soothe the constant buzz of embarrassment you felt around Fred these days.
“Well, it’s my job to educate the two of you on all of the wonders muggle London has to offer,” you sighed, leaning back on your hand. “We should totally visit my cousin this summer. Y’know, the one I was telling you about? I could take you out to a real muggle club.” George perked up at this.
“Yeah, we’re totally going,” George decided, raising his beer up to you, “cheers to your hot cousin.” He smirked and downed the rest of the beer, making you scoff.
“George!” You scolded, tossing a pillow his way, “You’ve never even seen my cousin.” You shook your head and downed the rest of you beer, crushing the can and tossing it in the bin.
“Well, I’ve seen you so I’m sure your cousin looks just fine,” George shrugged, reaching to grab more beers. You blushed and stifled a laugh as Fred looked up from his guitar with distaste.
“What?” George protested, “just cause you’re shagging her doesn’t mean I can’t state the obvious. She’s still just Y/N to me.” He tossed the pillow back at you, a laugh escaping your lips. For some reason, hearing George say it out loud made everything a little less awkward, and you were grateful that he didn’t care about you and Fred. Fred looked like he was going to reprimand George, but when he saw your blushing giggles his face softened into a smile. He put his guitar down as he grabbed the pillow off your lap.
“Alright, shut up mate,” he said, smacking George in the face with the pillow.
“Fred!” You laughed, moving to sit on your shins to watch the action. George stood up and hit Fred right back with his own pillow. They kept at it as Nirvana blared through the speakers. You sipped you beer through laughs before a pillow came dangerously close to your face. “Hey! Guys, watch the beer,” you pouted, holding your beer away from the twins.
“Oh, that’s my bad,” George said, reaching for your beer and placing it on the shelf before promptly smacking you with the pillow. Fred barked out a laugh as he attacked George.
“You’re not supposed to hit a lady!”
By now you had joined in on the fight, the three of you running around with feathers flying throughout the room. Your laughter echoed through Fred’s ears as he protected you from George’s attacks. He guessed it had always been like this, George teasing the two of you even before anything had happened. He’d called Fred out on his crush ages ago, even before Fred knew what it was.
February 1994
Merlin that dress is something else, Fred thought to himself as he watched you talk to Oliver Wood, captain of the Quidditch team. Gryffindor had just won a vital match against Ravenclaw, and Oliver was especially happy as it gave the team a chance at the cup. Everyone had been congratulating you tonight. Your flying was marginally better than most Hogwarts quidditch players, and a lot of people were speculating you would go pro after school. Fred knew you didn’t want to do that, but he let your fans whisper in awe about you. I mean, you were pretty amazing. Fred had never seen anyone play the way you did, not to mention you were one of the best witches in your year. Oliver sure seemed impressed with you.
“Oi, George. D’you reckon Wood’s getting a little too close to Y/N?” Fred nudged his twin and nodded his head towards you. George squinted at Wood before barking out a laugh.
“Yeah, I guess. Maybe Y/N will finally get a proper boyfriend,” George nudged his brother back with his elbows, wiggling his brows comedically. Fred cringed, throwing back the rest of his drink.
“I suppose…” Fred trailed off, letting his gaze fall to the table as he pour himself another glass of fire whiskey. As soon as that was done his eyes snapped back up to you in that dark dress, with Oliver’s face painfully close to yours. “But with Oliver?! We’d be bad friends to let her suffer like that,” Fred continued on, staring at Wood with disdain. George clicked his tongue, causing Fred to snap out of his gaze.
“Freddie, it sounds like you just want her for yourself,” George said with a teasing half grin. Fred’s face of disdain turned to one of horror as he set his drink down and waved his hands in defense.
“No, no, no. Not like that. C’mon George, it’s Y/N,” Fred scoffed, “I just mean that Wood is the reigning Quidditch dictator on top of being an absolute slag.” George pursed his lips and nodded in agreement with a shrug.
“True enough. Well, should we save her from her torture?” George asked with a grin. Fred’s face changed to match.
“Cheers,” Fred grinned, flicking his wand and effectively shutting Oliver up with a lip lock jinx. They watched as you stifled a laugh before excusing yourself, leaving Oliver to struggle with reversing the jinx. You began to make your way towards the twins at the corner of the party.
“Took you guys long enough. I was waiting to be saved from that interrogation,” you chuckled, grabbing Fred’s drink out of his hand. “Can I have this?” Fred hummed with a nod, prompting you to throw back the drink in a gulp. George watched with amusement.
“You wanna go dance with Angelina?” George asked, shimmying his shoulders with an infectious smile. You giggled, hiccuping from the drinks.
“Hell yeah. Fred, can you make us drinks?” You turned to Fred with a dramatic pout and pleading eyes. He rolled his eyes with a smile.
“Yeah, yeah. Run along, quidditch star. I’ll bring you your drinks,” Fred chuckled, watching as you said a thank you before running off towards Angelina in that short dress.
“You’re so down bad,” George laughed, shoving Fred before running off towards the girls. Fred shook his head as he made the drinks. What was George on about?
Present Day
Now, while Fred watched you jump and squeal as George chased you down with a pillow, he realized exactly what George was on about. You’d always been his best friend, and you’d always made him laugh in a way nobody else but George could. It also didn’t help that you were absolutely gorgeous. Somewhere along the line Fred had fallen completely in love with you, and now he was fighting for you, his pillow reigning down on George in all its blazing glory. You joined by his side to pelt George with attacks.
“Hey! This is totally not fair. Since when is this two against one?” George whined in between attacks. You just kept chuckling and destroying him with hits. You seemed to be enjoying your newfound advantage.
“I feel no pity for you, you took away my beer!” You laughed in your evil little laugh, taking another hit on his back.
“I call a truce!” George called, dropping his pillow and putting his hands up. You stopped your attack and stood there panting, waiting for any movement. “Let me just get your beer and we can put this behind us,” George reasoned, slowly moving towards the shelf with his hands up. Fred chuckled and dropped his pillow, moving to chug what was left of his can. Merlin, pillow fights sure took the wind out of you. George dropped to his knee and presented you with your half drunken can of Carling, “M’lady.”
“I suppose this will do,” you said, taking the can and bopping George on the top of his head. You fell back onto Fred’s bed with a laugh as you behind to chug your beer in deep gulps, attempting to cool yourself down. Fred sat down next to you, his hand resting on the bed behind your back.
“You guys reckon we should go to the treehouse tonight and play some more exploding snap and shots?” Fred asked, nodding up at George. The twins grinned at each other mischievously.
“Why yes, Freddie, I think that’s a fantastic idea,” George said pleasantly before falling back onto his own bed. The three of you raised you beers to the summer. This was going to be the best one yet.
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Authors note:
Hope you guys enjoyed part 3 of my lil summertime Fred x reader series! I know this part is a bit shorter and mostly fluff, but I promise the next one’s going to be spicier hehe. But man, I love writing this series so much and appreciate any comments from my beloved readers xoxo
#fred weasley oneshot#fred x reader#george weasly x reader#george weasley#fred weasley headcanons#fred weasley one shot#fred weasley imagines#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x you#fred weasley fluff
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Get To Know Your Wife
Summary: You can’t fight your arranged marriage with Megumi Fushiguro. But you’ll do everything you can to ensure it doesn’t become one of those loveless, boring marriages on paper. Even if that means you have to be the biggest pain in his ass, you could be.
Pairing: Fem! Reader x (future husband,arranged marriage) Megumi Fushiguro Sweetober prompt 8: Farmers Market WC 1.3K Warnings: Suggestive (dirty jokes and light humiliation/being a pain in the ass/dick jokes) cursing, fluff
“This is a pointless waste of time.”
“ Hey, you take that back!” you spun around on your heel to face the brooding, pouting, cross-armed Megumi Fushiguro, who merely raised an eyebrow at your outburst and disrespectful tone. As you came closer, one hand on your hip and the second pointed an extended index finger in his face the tip of your nail was just inches away from his nose, and he merely scoffed.
You stepped closer, your nail just barely graced his nose.
Megumi swatted your hand away from his face as though it were a fly. “I said this is pointless,” he repeated slowly, as though you lacked some marbles or were a very dense child unable to keep up with the obvious adult talk. “ We will be married regardless of our thoughts or feeling; all this is just a waste.”
He made an open palm motion towards the farmers market all around you, the lovely-dovey couples sharing autumn treats, the families playing market games, high scholars messing about at the pumpkin carving contests and just passers-by enjoying the farm fresh veggies, hand-crafted items and stories from travelling merchants.
It was a place where tradition met modernity, the new met the old, and there were indeed activities to fit both your tastes. Typical topics to talk about, childhood memories to share, heck even just as simple as learning about each other's favourite and hated fall treats could be something to talk about.
Anything that wasn’t marriage or clan-related.
Or at least, that had been your plan for the day. A feeble attempt at connection. You even went through all the formal hoops to request a sliver of his time, all according to customs and expectations and ridiculous rules between your clans. However now that you finally made it to the farmers market, he had the audacity to call all your effort ‘pointless’.
If you weren’t so flabbergasted, you would have slapped that self righteous expression right of his condescending face. The piercing glare that was soon accompanied by a self-satisfied smirk. The way he drew his own conclusions from your actions “I’ll take your silence as agreement, now then we’ll head back-”
“ -I’m not going to be stuck in a loveless marriage.” you cut him off. Your arms moved to cross over your chest, your foot tapped away at the ground in a nervous tipp-tipp-tapp sound- a dead giveaway to your anxiety.
Megumi raised an eyebrow at your statement. “You think a trip to a farmers market will somehow turn this into a love story? You’re more naive than I thought.”
You hated how he looked down at you. How he thought he knew everything because he was the zenin with the greatest technique that could make him the strongest in the world. How the power so obviously had gone to that spikey head of his and turned it so empty he became a sea urchin “No, I am giving you the opportunity to learn to treat me right before the marriage ceremony takes place”
“ Or what?”
“Or I will be the biggest nuisance to you, turning this marriage into a living hell” You threatened. When he didn’t relent, you smiled almost too sweetly, taking a deep breath. “ Megumi Fushiguro has a small dick!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. Instantly he was on you, his hand covering your mouth and the obscenities it spewed.
“ What the hell?” Megumi growled,his face an awkward shade of red as he heard several passers by repeat your sentence. You weren’t done yet. Using the old, stick out your tongue and lick, trick, you felt him yank his hand away from your lips in disgust.
Then you graced the passers by with another well timed, embarrassing comment: “ Megumi Fushiguro has a small dick and doesn’t know how to use–!”
His hand was back over your mouth, blush unmistakable as he peered at you through narrowed eyes. “ Will you shut up!” Megumi growled as he began to pull you away from the centre of the marketplace. “You’re humiliating yourself!”
“Mphhmmm mmm phm” his hand muffled your words and insults that you tried to scream right out, insults which turned into laughter as you dug your heels into the ground, making him stumble and struggle to drag you away. A sight that definitely attracted attention much to your delight and his humiliation
“Fucking hell, shut up and move will you?” Megumi snapped, yanking you particularly hard the same second as you raised your leg,which made you lose your balance and hit his back, sending him flying forward. Megumi caught himself last second, and by extension you caught yourself by crashing into his back. “Ouph you little- Don’t you dare!”
You didn’t realize why he got snappy, until your eyes landed on some of his clansmen and a few familiar faces. You took another deep breath readying to scream your most humiliating insult yet. Should you do another dick jab? Maybe the next one should question his choices? Or his inability to find a lover unless his clan bribed someone and-
“Okay fine!” Megumi snapped over his shoulder before you could finish formulating your thought. “Fine.” He sounded defeated as he turned to face you, arms crossed over his chest like a petulant child. “Where do you wanna go first?”
You were tempted to send him to hell, to humiliate him in front of his precious friends and clansmen. But then you reasoned your ammunition against him would bleed dry even before the day was over. So you bit your tongue and plastered a huge smile on your face as your eyes landed onto one of the jewelry stalls a distance away, “We start over there” You nodded in the stalls direction and began walking there. “Oh and by the way you’re paying today. Your punishment for being ungrateful.”
Megumi shot you another dark look as he fell into step beside you. “Whatever” he muttered with a huff. His hands were in his pockets but even without seeing them you could tell they shook in anger. An unmistakable frustration at being outsmarted by a girl.
“Oh, and try to smile, will you?” you knew you were toying with him, but you had to know the limit to your power.
“Tsk”
Okay, no smiles you concluded just as your eyes ran over the market patrons and landed on a familiar tall white-haired man you were certain carried the title of your soon to be’s adoptive father.“ Megumi has–”
“ Will you shut up already with the dick jokes?!” Megumi snapped his voice loud enough to make the white-haired man turn around, and his lips split open into a huge grin. You swore the sight of it, and the subsequent ‘My son’ made Megumi hate you just a tiny bit more. “See what you did?” he mouthed pulling you in another direction as the man made a beeline for you, leaving you to wonder whether you should take mercy on your soon-to-be and sneak away before Satoru Gojo met you, or if you should dig your feet in again just for the sheer amusement of it all.
After all, if Megumi had taken the time to get to know his soon-to-be wife, he wouldn’t have been in this predicament. So he had only himself to blame for this situation, right?
Author note: I'm dying beneath uni studies, work and my upcoming trip, but I still wanted to update something more this week. Hope this was worth the wait!
Taglist: @ambiguouslady42 @vividraft @escapistoftherealworld, @ssetsuka
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All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!
#megumi#megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi#jjk megumi#megumi x yn#megumi x you#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro#megumi fluff#jujutsu megumi#megumi fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen megumi#megumi x y/n#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jujustu kaisen#jjk sweetober#flufftober 2024#jjk x yn#raven cincaide works
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The OTHER type of Star Wars fan
We've already covered (through this longer post and this addendum) that research shows George wasn't that involved or interested in the derivative material of the Star Wars franchise, also known as the Expanded Universe (EU). Aside from approving a few points, he let Howard Roffman and Lucasfilm Licensing handle it.
He is the first to say that he ain't as knowledgeable about Star Wars lore as we fans are.
Thing is... he's also not as passionate as we are.
Recently, I was watching some Q&A videos of George R.R. Martin, the author of Game of Thrones... and it occurred to me:
Martin is what most Star Wars fans wish Lucas was.
Think about it.
He's a talented writer who likes to focus on morally "gray" characters and complex political plotlines,
who created a series of novels for a mature audience in which his narrative merely asks questions and lets the reader draw their own conclusions,
knows and engages in the lore behind his creation and will often respond to those lore-heavy questions, and has gone on record stating that canon is the glue that holds a story together and keeps it coherent.
Contrast that with George "continuity is for wimps" Lucas, who:
Wrote a movie franchise which is also, partially, political... but he makes it for kids, and he's explicit about how this is thematically a clear-cut story about how the conflict of "good vs evil" is really about "compassion vs greed",
with flat dialogue, boring cinematography,
and whose approach to lore and canon can be summed up in his answer to how Anakin got his scar:
"I don't know. Ask Howard [Roffman]. That’s one of those things that happens in the novels between the movies. I just put it there. He has to explain how it got there. I think Anakin got it slipping in the bathtub, but of course, he's not going to tell anybody that." - Pablo Hidalgo’s set diary, August 2003
And as a Star Wars fan, I will admit that some of his casual retcons felt disrespectful, growing up.
"Boba Fett is NOT Mandalorian?!"
I had the same reaction when I saw an interview of Kathleen Kennedy stating she was a fan of Star Wars... from a filmmaking perspective. That seemed like such a finagling cop-out for me, at the time.
"Just say you're not a real fan, God!"
And it's easy to divide it in two camps, like that. You have 1) the fans, who will delve into deep lore, and you have 2) the average moviegoer.
But looking back on it... holy shit, that is actually a completely valid way of being a Star Wars fan.
Yes, Star Wars is a transmedia franchise, it's books, it's video-games, it's deep lore, it's lightsabers and Jedi and Sith and bounty hunters and Ewoks and Jabba and High Republics and Tython and Revan etc.
But before it was that, Star Wars was a filmmaking revolution. A juggernaut of innovation for the silver screen that inspired most of today's filmmakers.
So, sure, George Lucas isn't an avid lore-loving Star Wars fan like you and me. But he is a movie fan.
"I'm not that passionate about this story. I like it, it's fun and I enjoy doing it. But it's definitely not my life. I'm a bigger movie fan than I am Star Wars fan. I like making movies. At the end of nine years of making Star Wars, I was not ready to continue it. I was completely burned out on it. I was more passionate about raising my kids than making movies and especially making Star Wars. So I made other kinds of movies and TV shows and advanced the technology I needed. It's not a matter of passion. My passion is for filmmaking. I'll go and do filmmaking that is easier to do, where you can realise your ideas better. And nine years is a big part of your life, and to commit to another nine years, I didn't wanna do that right away." - EMPIRE, 1999
And you can tell this, when you watch the Star Wars films.
There are honestly so many homages and interesting filmmaking techniques, peppered throughout the six films, which only a nerd for cinema history like George would know how to implement.
C3-PO being based on the droid from Metropolis (1927) is a perfect example of this.
And that's interesting.
Because there's essentially this entire other dimension to the films, where it's not just the story unfolding, but to filmmakers it's also a series of techniques that make them go "I wonder how they did that!" or homages that make them go "OH! I know where that's from!" like we do when an comics characters appears in live-action.
Here's other examples:
CINEMA HOMAGES
All of Star Wars is absolutely littered with homages to cinema history.
I mean, you may already know this, but Flash Gordon is what George originally wanted to shoot, but the copyright holders said they only wanted Fellini to direct it (ironically, George wasn't artsy-fart enough for them). So he decided to write Star Wars instead.
As such, the inspiration from Flash Gordon is also present visually and spiritually throughout the two trilogies.
"It was like a Republic serial, a 1930s-style matinee adventure. The idea was that you came in, saw Episode IV, had missed the first three episodes, and wouldn't get to see the rest of it." - Starlog Magazine #300, 2002
The dialogue that a lot of people refer to as "campy" and "flat" is actually a mix of George being an experimental filmmaker who doesn't give much of a fuck about dialogue (and is by his own admission, not the best at it)...
"I'd be the first person to say I can't write dialogue. My dialogue is very utilitarian and is designed to move things forward. I'm not Shakespeare. It's not designed to be poetic. It's not designed to have a clever turn of phrase. [...] I just wanted to get from point A to point B. This film doesn't lend itself to that sort of thing because it's not about snappy one-liners. I think that Lethal Weapon-style dialogue is overused, it's a necessary aspect of high action films where you have to have the smart retort. You have to say "I'll be back baby" and stuff. It's not my style. It takes away from the integrity of the movie. [...] I'm aware that dialogue isn't my strength. I use it as a device. I don't particularly like dialogue which is part of the problem." - EMPIRE, 1999
... which is convenient, because it helped him simulate the dialogue of 1930s matinee serials, such as Flash Gordon.
"Let’s face it, their dialogue in that scene is pretty corny. It is presented very honestly, it isn’t tongue in cheek at all, and it’s played to the hilt. But it is consistent, not only with the rest of the movie, but with the overall Star Wars style. Most people don’t understand the style of Star Wars. They don’t get that there is an underlying motif that is very much like a 1930s Western or Saturday matinee serial. It’s in the more romantic period of making movies and adventure films. And this film is even more of a melodrama than the others." - Mythmaking: Behind the Scenes of Attack of the Clones, 2002
But beyond that, literally it's everywhere.
The scene where Palpatine ascends to being Emperor as Anakin slaughters his political rivals parallels the final scene in The Godfather, where Michael becomes the Don while his goons do the same thing.
This video compiles all the tributes beautifully. Check it out.
youtube
Even The Clone Wars has whole episodes that are direct homages to cult classics. The Zillo Beast episode is a clear reference to Godzilla, the episode The Wrong Jedi is inspired by The Wrong Man, etc.
"CINEMA VÉRITÉ" CINEMATOGRAPHY
I've already written a whole post (one of my favourites) showing how his fascination with cinéma vérité documentaries is reflected in the cinematography of all six Star Wars films, and it's part of what makes the entire franchise feel so immersive.
You can check it out here:
KUROSAWA
We've gone over how he's a big fan of Akira Kurosawa, and how big an influence Hidden Fortress was on both the Star Wars trilogies...
... but so is the mise-en-scène and the way George approaches production design. The reason Star Wars feels so "lived in" is also a lesson George learned from Kurosawa, which is that by making everything just a bit off-kilter, a bit dirtied-up and imperfect...
... and yet keeping it all consistent, in a way, you manage to make the film feel grounded and immersive, no matter how alien it is.
"[It] may sound odd in a movie like this, but credibility and realism, even in the most unrealistic situation… to sorta create that sense of realism is very important to making the story work and making you feel like you’re actually in the environment that transports you and gives you the suspension of disbelief that you need in order to enjoy a movie. [...] Kurosawa used to call it “immaculate realism” which is to make it slightly off-kilter, slightly eccentric, like things are in real life. Even if it’s a very predictable situation, give it that little funny edge that takes it away from that and makes it realistic. And I had to struggle very hard, in the Star Wars films, to make them appear to be realistic, even though they’re totally fantasy." - The Phantom Menace, Commentary Track #2, 1999
POST-PRODUCTION & VFX
Another one of the more impressive aspects of the first Star Wars was the dogfights and the trench raid of the Death Star. The camera pans with the spaceship, the dynamism of the cuts. The space battles is what made George creat ILM in the first place.
He was determined to do the opposite of what 2001: A Space Odyssey had done with that opening scene where the space ship moves into frame slooooowly...
... so he gave the team a collection of WWII dogfight footage to give them ideas.
(note: this was the same approach he would take years later with Dave Filoni, when teaching the latter how to edit and craft dogfights in The Clone Wars)
The attempt to film the trench run eventually led to the creation of the first motion control camera dolly.
Best analogy I can think of, when describing George's approach to Star Wars, is the following:
An avant-garde esoteric contemporary artist - y'know, the type who puts a blue dot on a white canvas and calls it art - creates a comic.
Why? Because he wants to make this one art installment for a gallery exhibition. After that, he intends to move on to other things.
But the comic is really good! And like, its audience quickly expands beyond just gallery visitors, no, everyone likes it.
Suddenly, the comic develops a cult following, and the entirety of comic book geek culture has zeroed-in on the artist and they're all asking him to make more art! And he makes more! And more!
Then he stops for two decades, moves on to other art projects, raises his kids. Years later, he discovers new ways of drawing, and he's like "I'm making a Prequel to the comic, y'all wanna see it?"
Everyone cries out gleefully: "Oh God, yes! Finally! Show us!"
But this motherfucker makes a manga.
Why? Because he feels like it.
And of course he does, he's just creating art, right? He discovered the graphic tablet, so he's having fun with it, because he's always innovating and pushing the envelope with his art.
And the movies are fine, by manga standards. But by comic book standards, they obviously suck! The comic book audience is mad. They wanted another comic book, not a manga. Why is it in black and white? Why is read right-to-left? This comic sucks!
(And arguably, they have a point... as a savvy businessman, he's made a whole lot of money off this comic, he built a media empire out of it, and instead of giving them what they want, he made something else)
But again... this guy isn't a comic book illustrator, and has been very explicit about saying this.
He's an artist who - for a very specific project - drew a comic.
Many things can be true at once:
the fact that these creative decisions didn't always hit their mark for the average moviegoer, or fans of "Star Wars, the space fantasy movies and expanded universe" (usually the lore-loving geeks like myself)...
... and the fact that they were meticulously and carefully crafted in a way that fans of "Star Wars, the revolutionary film" (aka fans of cinema and filmmaking) can appreciate.
There's a spectrum of the fandom, and there is a spectrum in the way we can appreciate Star Wars. Which kinda reminds me of that scene in Chef (2014) where Carl goes on a rant explaining the intricacies of making his chocolate lava cake to a food critic.
It's not just undercooked chocolate.
It's molten.
Conversely, it's not just flat, campy dialogue. It's an homage to the 1930s matinee serials à la Flash Gordon.
It's not just boring cinematography. It's a reproduction of cinéma vérité documentary-style camera work which effectively grounds the film.
Having considered all this, when I hear that Tony Gilroy or Kathleen Kennedy were more in the latter camp, I go "fair enough".
First of all, because like it or not, so was George. He clearly didn't give a single crap about the comics and books, besides signing off on minor plot points. He's not a "sci-fi movie director", he's an experimental filmmaker who makes movies set in space.
But secondly, because - aside from children - it's clear the audience he was targeting was these cinema-savvy folks who'd get his references and would be inspired by the filmmaking techniques.
Not the fans or the critics.
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Absolutely Starving for more Yandere Suguru and Satoru sharing their darling🤭🤭
Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru
TW: NSFW, noncon, condescension
gn reader
Despite your clan’s ties with jujutsu sorcery, you were unfortunately born with little talent for it.
When it came to exorcising curses or fighting others with cursed energy, you were better off pleading for your life than trying to fight for it.
And so, since jujutsu sorcery wouldn’t amount to much more than your untimely death, you were training to be an assistant supervisor instead.
A goal that you were happy with.
You weren’t much a fan of violence anyway, so even if you had been born with a special technique, it wouldn’t really have joyed you to have to use it on anyone – curse or not.
Actually, being an assistant supervisor would have been a dream if fate had been cruel enough to make you a sorcerer instead. In fact, you would even go as far as counting it as a blessing.
Being an assistant supervisor meant you’d get to uphold your family’s respect and remain eligible while keeping you safe and happily removed from any and all manors of savagery.
It was perfect.
Or... well... it would be perfect.
If only it weren’t for Gojo and Geto always trying to goad you into training with them…
Sly smiles on their cocky faces with their hands down their pockets. The pair stood so tall, even as one leaned back and the other slouched – you could only smile shyly and shake your head no-thank-you like all those other times they’d come asking.
“You know you’re gonna be our assistant soon, which means you gotta do anything we ask~” Gojo sniggered, hunched forward with his round shades lowered to wink down at you – his stove-top blues giving you chills.
Those eyes always make you feel a little smaller than what his height already does – so bright and seizing, making you have to swallow before answering.
“I can referee, but I wouldn’t be any fun sparring with.” You excused like so many times before, biting your tongue from wanting to correct him in saying that being their assistant was most definitely not what your job was or ever would be.
It wouldn’t have been heard anyway...
“Oh?” Gojo’s grin widened, offering a low chuckle. “I think it would be very fun…”
You never really knew what to make of him – whether he was being funny or boorish was always lost on you. All in all, either way, he just makes you feel a little picked on.
“You’re awful, Satoru,” Geto interjected on what seemed like your behalf, knocking a backhand against Gojo’s shoulder hard enough to wipe the smirk off his face and make him pull a pout.
Geto just ignored his sulking in favor of smiling earnestly down at you.
“What if you were the only one using cursed energy?”
Geto is different from Gojo, you thought. He isn’t rude. But where Gojo makes fun of you in cockier ways, Geto is patronizing in and of his own right. He’s so hard to read, yet you can't help but feel like he’s disingenuous each time he gives you that seemingly kind smile of his.
You aren’t too sure if he’s not also hiding other ulterior motives similar to the ones of his white-haired friend.
In truth, they both make you feel a little uneasy.
“That’s kind, Geto, but I honestly don’t think it would make much difference.” You tried excusing once more, hoping it would be the last time they’d ask.
But the two boys seemed more obstinate today.
“Come on, humor us~” Geto drawled in a taunt of persuasion, tilting his head to the side, still with his smiling eyes.
“You can even use a weapon-” Gojo added, bowing once again to level your eyes with his before jokingly pleading, “Please~”
Perhaps they’d been bored for a while, you thought. Maybe there was no turning them down this time around…
You sighed. “Okay… fine.” Raising a finger between you. “But just this once, and then you quit asking.”
The boys smiled.
“Deal.”
You followed between them as they led you to the inside training grounds, opening a door into a rather small sparring room with soft but sturdy enough floors. One wall was equipped with weapons – all ranging from spears to butcher’s knives and battle axes.
“Pick your poison, suit.” Gojo offered, gesturing to the many choices at your disposal.
You made a tiny grimace at the nickname, looking down at your suit and tie, feeling flushed but trying to keep it to yourself. It was too small a thing to let get to you, and berating the six-eyes for his lack of respect wouldn’t get you anywhere anyway.
Besides, you had a bigger problem staring at the rack of tools before you – having such little experience with all of them.
The katana seemed as easy as any – just a long blade made for slicing – but as you picked it from its hooks, it immediately fell to the floor.
Your foot would have been sliced in half if it weren’t for Geto’s quick reflexes, having stopped it before it could.
“I think that’s a little heavy for you.” He smiled, putting it back on the shelf with ease.
You felt the urge to reject his comment and insist on using it out of pure spite but realized it wouldn't serve you any justice.
“You’re right.” You smiled sheepishly, trying hard not to grit your teeth before picking out a smaller dagger instead.
Gojo was indifferent to the altercation, standing on the opposite side of the room – stretching his long limbs, waiting for you to take your stance.
You took off your jacket, folding it neatly and laying it aside out of the way, and made your way back to the opposing side – standing there, dagger in your fist.
“Okay, so uhm… what exactly do you want me to do?” You felt so silly.
“How ‘bout you just try your luck and slice me.” He offered smugly, his shit-eating grin grating your nerves. “Or maybe you'd prefer it if I attacked you?”
Your nose scrunched with a huff at his flirty tone before you lounged at him, running at him at full speed with the knife slicing the air.
You know the basic footwork, albeit gracelessly, swiping the blade in eager attempts to carve up his torso. But he dodges every one of your efforts until finally spinning you flat into his chest. Overlapping your hands where you held onto the knife.
He tsked at your ear, his lips brushing the shell. “No, no~ you’re holding it all wrong~” He teased softly in a whisper, his breaths warm and steady against your cheek. “Let me teach you.”
You had your heart in your throat as his long and slender fingers picked and rearranged your own around the blade until you held it correctly.
“See?” He crooned, brushing his digits over yours. “Doesn’t that feel nicer?”
You had to swallow, feeling uneasy standing snug against the boy but equally anxious to move. “S-sure-” You replied, trying not to shudder.
He chuckled lightly. “Let’s try again.”
He disappeared from behind you and reappeared in the same instant on the other side of the room, gesturing he was ready for round two.
You begrudgingly gave it a few more tries – each time ending with your body trapped against his – sometimes chest to chest or front to back, and other times with you down on your knees and him sitting atop you like a stool.
You were panting when you were done. Lying on your back on the floor. The dagger knocked somewhere beside you. The humiliation and aggravation had washed off in the exhaustion as you felt your shirt cling to your dewy skin where your chest heaved.
Gojo stretched and walked off the mat with a yawn. “I think that’s a wrap. You take next, Suguru.”
He hadn’t even broken a sweat, you noted, rolling over and picking yourself up for the next guy. But Geto surely wouldn’t play with you as much, would he?
“With me, you should just focus on defense, alright?” He smiled softly, like always – though this time, it seemed pulled somewhat tighter in the seams.
“Okay-” You said weakly, feeling it pulse in your throat as you readied your stance unsurely, a tremor in your brow as you sucked your lip into your mouth. Geto was a little scary like this...
He came at you fast – the surprise making you stumble backward, knocking you off balance – slipping and almost hitting the ground if it weren’t for him catching you first – still with his smile, albeit even sharper now.
“No fair,” Gojo whined from the sidelines, but it was clear he was just teasing. “That was way too easy- you just gave up-”
You didn’t like any of it even a bit.
Though it was the same condescending aura as always – it seemed somewhat stifling now. Thick and heavy, soaking through your shirt to tickle your skin. Not entirely malicious, but something akin to it – haughty and amused and immoral and cold enough to give you chills.
One thing was for sure – they weren’t trying to be your friends.
“I think I’ve had enough-” You said then, crawling from Geto’s embrace and onto your own two feet. You padded over the floors and picked up your jacket, treading it on again. “I’m of no help to you other than making a fool of myself- the two of you should just practice against each other.”
“Come on-” Gojo interjected, pushing himself off the wall he’d been leaning against. “Loosen up your tie and have some fun with us.”
“No. I played your games; now I’m done.” You said decidedly, struggling with why you’d even said yes in the first place. “I mean no disrespect, but my time is better spent studying than humoring the two of you.”
You walked to the exit, but Gojo had placed himself in front of it. Looking almost taller than the door itself. His arms folded lazily over his chest with his dark glasses slanted on his nose, looking down at you with that very awful twinkle in his eyes – lips in a small haughty smirk.
“Move, please.” You said, unable to hold the spite out of your voice any longer. Now audibly and visibly very annoyed.
“Yeah?” He posed before splitting a bigger grin, brows doing a jump at his next statement. “Make me.”
You groaned. Sweaty and sore and tired of it. “This isn’t funny, Gojo.”
But he just couldn’t help but snicker. You looked so prim and proper in your suit – way too cute to take seriously.
“I don’t think he’s trying to make you laugh, angel.” Geto chimed in from behind you – his thick arms soon slithering snugly around your midriff with his chin hanging on your shoulder, squeezing you to his chest where he slouched over you.
You yelped with wide eyes once your ass molded against his crotch, blushing at the feel before the panic took you.
“H-hey-” You stammered, embarrassed in a different way than that of before. “Stop that-”
“Why? I thought you said you didn’t want to fight anymore- change your mind so soon?” He mumbled, hugging your body tighter. His bulge nestling sweetly against your tush, you could barely form the words in your state – feeling overwhelmingly flustered.
“N-no- but-”
“Right, there are other fun things we can do instead of fight,” Gojo cut off your stuttering, taking a step toward the two of you – his hand out and curling around your chin to lift your head up to meet him.
“What?” Your brows cinched, and he thought he’d never seen you quite so discomposed.
He chuckled. “Oh, you know, like I said before-” Leaning down to your level – his eyes sharp with something you could never quite understand. “You’re to be our little assistant soon. And I suppose it’s only right we teach you what that means since it all seems so lost on you.”
Your look was so puzzled and cute – he wanted to taste it. Needing to sink his teeth into his tongue when you let out a whine as Geto nudged his nose into your neck, smelling you like a shameless curse as his hands slipped down between your thighs to palm the sweet thing found there.
“The uniform suits you, but I think we’ll have you dress a little differently.” He added, lips smothered on your neck, hot and wet – making you cringe with an uneasy whimper. “After all, you won’t need this many layers serving us.”
♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ GETO SUGURU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist
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Roommate Sukuna shows you how to play video games!
A sly smile appears on your face when Sukuna arrives from college in the evening and slams the door, noticeably tired.
"You look like shit."
He rolls his eyes and drops the backpack, throwing himself on the individual sofa "I'm not in the mood, bastard"
Seeing Sukuna this tired was, well, abnormal, and he had been like this for a couple of weeks. Student exploitation must have been tough on his career these days.
Seeing him in that state moved something inside you, you almost wanted to hug him and cuddle with him to take the stress off of him, but hey, it was Sukuna, he probably thought that a train above him was a better relaxation technique.
You look back at the TV, thoughtful. "Hmm... well, are you in the mood of teaching me your video games?" you take a quick look at him, not wanting to be obvious in your concern, maybe he could bully you if he noticed "you told me i need to know real games, whatever that means it might put you in the mood to be unbearabl-"
"Charming" he corrects you, then processes what you just said and freaks out, making a face "why do you want me to be, anyway?"
"Why not?" you pause the TV and look at him quietly.
"Why, though?"
"Why not?"
His eye twitches and you sigh in a complaint at his murderous gaze "I am bored Su-ku-na!"
With a grunt he stands up, ruffling your hair on the way to his room. "Give me 20 minutes, i'll take a shower and turn on the PC."
Said and done, he called you 37 minutes later, because if there's one thing Sukuna absolutely has, it's a bad ability to estimate time. He doesn't seem to care, though.
When you enter his room it is a bit messy as usual, he has his back to you leaning over the computer, clicking. His hair is wet and he only has pajama pants on, no shirt; and it makes you wonder if he is aware of how shocking his appearance can be to mortals like you.
"Listen pet, you have a maximum of 20 minutes to learn how to play Fortnite, at that time my friends will call to do a group game, and you will play pretending to be me" he stands up straight and turns to look at you "understood?"
You take a moment to process his stupidity, then scoff "With all intent to offend, are you insan-"
"I'll talk, not you, i just want to know how much you can ridicule me" shrugs bending down to the computer again.
After a while of mutual insults, while you stand beside him he shows you how he plays so you have an idea of the game, which looks pretty crazy.
When you sit on the edge of his knees to do the training level, you are not even halfway through it when he takes you by the waist to make you stand up and moves the chair to take a pillow, putting it on his legs. You raise an eyebrow when he comes close to make you sit again.
"You are as low as a goblin." He explains neutrally, bordering on the line of mockery, screaming internally at God for you to know nothing about the barely concealable erection between those pajamas.
You follow the training, and you do horribly, the high sensitivity of the character is lame, the lack of aim and of the ability to make many movements at once is also lame. Sukuna puts his hands on yours trying to facilitate the learning process, which actually distracts you and does the opposite.
"No no, hold it like this" he leans close to your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder "slower... mhm, yeah"
Even if you made the stupidest of achievements, he would still mutter things.
"You learn fast"
You thank God that you are turning your back on him so he doesn't notice your ridiculous blush, and the most fucked up part is that you don't even notice a malicious note in his tone, it's purely teaching.
There you consider the church your mother mentioned.
Before you notice it it's already time for the group call and you're STRESSED with a big S; in contrast Sukuna sounds amused every time he points out an advice to you "It's just a game, brat, have fun"
"I don't know Ryomen, who will be on the call?"
He stays silent for a moment. "Choso, Yuji and i don't know if Gojo has time, why the concern?" he hits you on the head with his finger "Do you like any of them?"
The audacity.
"Isn't Gojo the one you threatened to kill a while ago? And actually- actually what the fuck! Why do you relate everything with me liking someon-"
The conversation is interrupted by the call notification, Sukuna answers by putting two fingers on your mouth so that you shut up.
After a scandalous greeting and a confirmation of Gojo's participation, the game starts, not even three minutes have passed when they are already throwing shit at Sukuna.
"Why are you so useless? you had it literally in front of you??? what the fuck Sukuna" Although Gojo started out mocking, he ended up insulting him (or you lmao) mercilessly.
"Why are you going to the other side? pick up the box, ASSHOLE!" Yuji was getting anxious, and so did you, Sukuna only made excuses saying that the wifi was weak while pinching you, amused, and Choso said nothing for a while, but at some point finally spoke.
"Bro why are you playing like you're gay."
There was a moment of silence which was broken by the screams of Gojo and Yuji, taking advantage of the moment you made a sign to Sukuna that you gave up.
"Be gentle, dickheads" Sukuna murmurs in a mock taking control of the PC, but without taking you off, his arms simply surrounded you "there's a lady present"
a/n: sorry, i'm really bad at video games, i don't know anything about them, i gave it my all🙏🏻
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how you two got together
pairing: gojo x zenin!male!reader
summary: non-curse zenin reader and their dynamic with gojo after defecting from the zenin clan to attend tokyo jujutsu high
tags: non-descriptive injury and violence, gay panic
word count: 2.5k
a/n: this started off as hcs, but then got really long as i worked on it lol. i might make a pt.2 where its bf hcs, let me know what u think!
Born into the Zenin clan with little to no cursed energy, a heavenly restriction was placed on you as a child
Similar to Maki, you were viewed as the family's disappointment
This was further accentuated since you were born around the same time as Naoya, who was gifted with one of the family’s prized cursed techniques
You were close to and looked up to Toji due to you both not possessing cursed techniques and became training partners
When Toji defected from the Zenin clan, you defected too to pursue becoming a sorcerer, eventually ending up at Tokyo Jujutsu High
This is also how you got to know the other three first-years when you joined
“Everyone, (Y/N) will be joining us for the rest of the school year. Please behave, especially you, Satoru.” Yaga states as you walk up to the front of the classroom.
You were nervous, there was no hiding that. This was the first time you interacted with sorcerers outside of the Zenin clan.
“Please take care of me!” You say, bowing.
When you stood upright again, you took in your classmates for the next four years. The guy with bone-white hair and round shades caught your eye immediately. His hair looked fluffy, and you wanted to run your fingers through it. He was slumped sideways in his chair, arms draped to his side and his feet crossed on the table in front of him. He was attractive, you had to admit.
“This has to be a joke, Sensei. How is a person with no cursed energy ever going to become a sorcerer?” The light-haired man spoke, with a teasing lilt.
Well, he was attractive to you until he opened his mouth.
The first sentence that came out of Gojo Satoru’s mouth immediately left a bad taste in your mouth
It was that day where you decided that he had a shitty personality and that you did not like him
Once your life at Jujutsu High settled into a routine, you began to adjust and get more comfortable with who you were
You would hang out in the morgue with Shoko when you were bored but didn’t want to train
You would train hand-to-hand with Suguru because he was the only one who could keep up with you in that regard
You didn’t hang out with Gojo too often; after that first interaction, you believed that he was like the people in your family back home
Gojo initially thought that you were a helpless non-sorcerer who had overly ambitious dreams until he saw you spar for the first time
Crickets chirped in the background as the sun beat down on you and Suguru overhead. The dull “clack” of wood on wood echoed through the training grounds. You and Suguru had become regular sparring partners since you revealed yourself as an excellent physical fighter and cursed tools user.
You attacked from the sides quickly, before aiming one decisive, forward thrust towards Suguru’s chest. Caught off guard, he raised his waster to block the attack sloppily. Taking advantage of the surprise, you quickly dropped down and swept at his legs, catching him off balance. Before he had a chance to react, the tip of your waster was resting lightly on his chest. You were both breathing heavily from the exertion and heat. A beat later, you lower your weapon and help the other up, smiles on both your faces as Suguru punches your shoulder in a friendly gesture.
Taking a break from the session, the both of you sit on the side of the field, taking a water break.
Unbeknownst to you, Gojo and Shoko were just walking past the fields and had witnessed the entire exchange.
Gojo found himself unable to tear his eyes off you. He had seen other people fight with swords, but none were ever as graceful as you. You moved like water, each motion flowing into each other seamlessly. It seemed so effortless, but Gojo knew that what you were capable of was only possible with years of dedicated training.
“Satoru, you’re staring,” Shoko spoke.
“No! I-I wasn’t.” Gojo bit back, his cheeks and ears flushing pink.
“Sure, I believe you.” She chuckled.
So okay, maybe Gojo thought that you were attractive when you were fighting
It was something that was absolutely objective, really
At least, that was what he tried to convince himself
Okay, so maybe he had a tiny, tiny crush on you, but he didn’t really know how to go about it since you guys never talked
So he resorted to getting your attention in a mature way
By annoying the fuck out of you
“Oh look, it’s my favorite non-curse user!” He would squeal whenever he would see you and drape himself over your shoulder.
“Fuck off, Gojo.” You would huff before peeling him off you.
Initially, he had succeeded, and you had found it annoying
But as he did it more often, it became the dynamic between you two
You were cooking in the communal kitchen when the tall man had made himself known in all his lanky glory.
“How’s my favorite armrest doing this fine evening?” He spoke, opening the fridge.
“I’m doing better than your string bean-looking ass.” You shot back as you stirred the ramen cooking in the saucepan in front of you.
“You hurt me, truly.” Gojo responds, dramatically leaning against the fridge.
You began to understand why Gojo was the way he was, and slowly, a friendship formed despite the rocky start
You were on good terms, until the first time you were assigned a harder mission with Gojo
It was a semi-grade one, and the higher-ups were originally going to send Geto, but he had been whisked away on another mission
So Yaga assigned the mission to you instead of Geto
For this mission, you brought one of your favourite weapons, Shisui
Shisui was a katana that could absorb and accumulate cursed energy and release it
The fight against the curse started well, but quickly went downhill when Gojo destroyed one of the walls in the building, and it started collapsing
You had to dodge the debris and the curse’s attacks at the same time, which was honestly a hassle
The curse was smart; it had caught on to how much the collapsing building was giving you trouble, and strategically positioned itself in front of the other wall, hoping to trick Gojo into destroying the other wall
However, you had picked up on it
Gojo had already pointed his fingers towards the curse, who was floating right in front of the wall. If he fired Blue now, the building would definitely collapse.
Pushing off quickly, you dash towards the curse, intercepting Blue with Shisui. You gripped the hilt of the blade; it was built to absorb cursed energy, but withstanding the force of Blue was still no easy feat.
You landed stably, before shooting off again, rushing the curse perpendicular to the wall. You gripped Shisui, charged with the cursed energy of Blue, and with a pinpoint-precise thrust, the semi-grade one was no more. However, what you failed to realize was that as the curse was exorcised, it had sent out its tendrils in an attempt to take down the two sorcerers.
Focused on taking it down without destroying the building, you had left your side open. Three tendrils pierced your side, searing pain shooting up your torso. You fell onto one knee, using Shisui for support.
Your erratic pulse drummed in your ears, and black spots clouded your vision. Your limbs tingle as you reach a hand to your side, your uniform now wet with your blood.
“(Y/N)...(Y/N)!” You hear Gojo’s voice become softer and softer as you slump over.
Gojo is the one to take you back to school with his teleportation
He appears in the morgue, frantic and panicked with your injured body in his arms
Shoko takes over immediately, using her RCT on your injuries
She tells Gojo that you will be fine and that you just need rest, but he refuses to leave your side
When you eventually wake up, you immediately get a lecture from Gojo
“(Y/N), I had it handled. You didn’t have to jump in.” He stated.
“You would’ve collapsed the building, Satoru. That would’ve caused trouble for both of us.” You reasoned.
“You were being reckless; you should’ve left everything to me.”
“Reckless? Me?” You started incredulously, “Well yeah, not everyone has Infinity as a get-out-of-jail-free card, so sorry, Gojo-sama, for worrying about getting crushed by a building.”
“Well this get-out-of-jail-free card could’ve exorcised the curse without getting stabbed in the side! Thrice!” Gojo exclaimed, frustrated that you weren’t understanding his logic.
“You should just go alone next time, seeing as you obviously don’t need my help. You could just say it to my face if you think I’m not good enough, no need to play pretend.” You spat.
“(Y/N), that’s not-”
“I think you’ve said enough. I don’t want to talk to you right now.” You cut him off once again. He seems to hesitate before turning and leaving the morgue.
You hadn’t noticed earlier, but your eyes were watery
Whether from frustration or from betrayal that Gojo looked down on you this entire time, you didn’t know
Shoko gave you a reassuring look before rushing off after Gojo
She finds Gojo sitting under a tree right outside the school building, holding his head in his hands
Shoko lights a cigarette, plopping down next to him
“I don’t understand why he’s so stubborn. If he let me handle the curse he wouldn’t have needed to get hurt.” Gojo speaks, head still in his hands.
“You? Worried about someone getting hurt instead of whether they are slowing you down? Who are you and what have you done to the real Gojo Satoru?” Shoko replies.
Gojo feels his cheeks and ears heat up.
“I know you like him. You’re not exactly subtle with it. You should probably make it clear that you’re worried about him and not looking down on him, before he has time to convince himself otherwise.” Shoko speaks before taking a hit of her cigarette.
Many things are running through Gojo’s head, but the main thing his mind was screaming at him was how maybe his crush was something more
Initially he was drawn to you because of how good you were with cursed tools
But after spending more time with you, he realized that he cared about you
In a way where he wanted to protect you, to hear your laugh and to see you happy
He’s never felt this deeply about anyone, or anything for that matter
He stands abruptly, rushing back towards the morgue
While this conversation was happening, you received a call from your clan
They have not contacted you since you left so you were curious
You picked up, putting them on speaker
“(Y/N). We heard that you got injured badly.” Your mother’s voice, “We’ve deliberated with the elders. We are allowing you to return to the estate, (Y/N). We’ve been trying to tell you that you aren’t suited for the sorcerer life and today was just proof of that. The Jujutsu World doesn’t need any more weak sorcerers; you’ll just get in the way.” She spoke softly.
You could feel the tears well up once again, and you sobbed when you couldn’t keep them back. You knew that you had the odds stacked against you when you decided to pursue becoming a Jujutsu sorcerer. You had thought that you found people who viewed you as equal, people who respected your own skills, until Gojo had made you realise that he had looked down on you this entire time.
You had thought that maybe, just maybe that you guys were friends, or even more, when he would entertain your banter and be physically affectionate with you. It hurt that this entire time, you were a joke to him. He didn’t even think you could handle that curse working in a team with him, let alone by yourself.
It hurt.
You were letting the tears flow freely down your face, now that the dam had broken.
“(Y/N)-” Your father had started speaking but you stopped listening when you saw who was at the door. Unbeknownst to you, Gojo had overheard the entire conversation.
“Gojo, I told you I didn’t want to talk to you right now.” You spoke shakily, averting his gaze.
“(Y/N), I-I came to apologize, actually.” Your eyes widen in surprise.
“You? Apologising?” You couldn’t stop yourself before those words tumbled out of your mouth.
Gojo looked down at the floor, face flushing.
“Look, I didn’t mean to say what I said before- I thought that- What I meant to- How I meant-” He struggled with his words, but you waited for him to finish patiently, “I’m sorry I made you think that I didn’t want your help, or that you’re not good enough. That’s not what I meant.” He made his way towards you, kneeling at your bedside, resting his arms and head on the edge of the bed. He grabs your hand.
“I just got really scared that I had lost you, and I-I really care about you, (Y/N).”
You look down at Gojo, still processing his words. Your father’s voice cuts through the silence.
“-the weak don’t have to pretend to be strong. Give up this act and return at once, (Y/N).” It reminded you of your current circumstance and fresh tears rolled down your cheeks.
Observing your distress, he picks up the phone before you could react.
“Oi Zenin, (Y/N) here is one of the best cursed tool users this school has seen, so shut the fuck up before you start talking about someone you know nothing about. He’s one of the kindest, most considerate and strong sorcerers around, and he could wipe the floor with you guys in his sleep, so fuck off with your bullshit. Byeeeee~” Gojo singsongs before hanging up.
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
Gojo’s expression returns to the more serious one from early. He gets up, cupping your face in both his hands.
“I’m being serious, (Y/N). You’re an amazing person, and I’m mad that I made you feel otherwise.” He pauses before continuing, “And. I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but I have feelings for you, and I think I’ve been feeling this way for a while. Uh, it’s okay if you don’t return my feelings, and I understand if-”
You don’t let him continue, pulling him in by his arms and kissing him. He freezes for a moment before he reciprocates. When the two of you part for air, he rests his forehead on yours.
“I have feelings for you too, Satoru.” You speak softly.
He chuckles, capturing your lips with his.
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#gojo x reader#gojo#gojo x male reader#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#male reader#jjk x male reader#gojo x you#headcanons#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you
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STOP I LOVE YOUR PLATONIC!MIGUEL FICS <333
would you be okay with writing smth where teen!reader makes him something?? like maybe reader loves making things out of paper (like paper flowers, butterflies, tiny stars, etc.) so they decided fo make smth for miguel?
and maybe reader is nervous he won't like it?? :(
I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS<333
Origami and Suit Malfunctions- Miguel O' Hara x teen!spider!reader
See, the thing with being a part time employee of the spider society meant that you had a lot of free time compared to other spiders. Normally anyone would go back to their own universe, but yours was sadly destroyed.
Sad. Anyways, it meant that you had a lot of free time. Free time to annoy Miguel, to conspire with Lyla, to practice your techniques..... and to hone your previously horrendous origami skills.
Like, no joke, you had absolutely no talent when it come to folding paper into intricate shapes. But hey, bored and borderline insanity works wonders for the brain.
So, slowly but surely, you taught yourself to make paper stars and flowers and boats. But you wanted to make something for Miguel. Why?
Who knows? Like I said, boredom does things to the brain.
Miguel wasn't exactly an open book and he'd probably die of a heart attack if you gave him flowers. You didn't have time to make hundreds of little paper stars so that was ruled out-
"What're you thinking about?" the older man's raspy voice reaches your ears.
"How to get your suit to malfunction." you quip back.
"Why must you torture me so?" he replies in a monotone voice as he sits on his seat, opposite you.
"I'm your employee, it's my job."
"Your job is to be a pain in the ass?" he raises an eyebrow.
"Precisely." you stick your tongue out and he rolls his eyes.
After a few seconds, you clear your throat, "Hey, uh, what's your favorite sport?
He's silent for a while and you can see his eyes gloss over, his reply is shaky, "Soccer."
You nod with a thumbs up, "Thank you Bossman Bosserson."
"You call me that again, I'll throw Lyla at you." he threatens as you go to leave the office.
"Jokes on you, I'd love that!" you shout back you walk out.
-----
Finally, he thinks, Finally this mission is over. Now he can go have a hot shower and a good meal and some of the amazing chai you make and he'll be in a somewhat good mood.
When he enters his office, he stunned at the silence.
Normally he can hear the sound of your feet tapping against the floor or your humming and the the fact that he can hear nothing is unnerving.
"Kid?" he calls out, Answer me.
He swings to the top of the platform, and you're not where you normally are. You're not sitting there, zoned out with your foot tapping incessantly like a little child. You're not where you're supposed to be.
"Miguel, your heart is racing, you okay?" Lyla asks him.
"Where's my kid?" he asks her.
"Oh baby Mig's hanging out with Hobie!" she says cheerfully.
"What?" he all but growls.
"Hey! Chill! She's fine! In fact, " the AI smirks and nods towards his desk, "She left something for you."
He turns and his heart skips a beat.
There's a little paper soccer ball on his desk.
It's tiny in his palm, but it has your initials and a post-it stuck on top.
"You said you liked soccer, so this is for you :D. I would never try to screw with your suit, don't worry ;)"
The ink smudges as a tear drops onto where you've signed the post it.
"God, this spider, I swear." he grumbles and wipes his eyes.
"This spider...what?" he jumps and turns at the sound of your voice. You're standing behind him with your hands behind your back and a sheepish smile on your face.
"This spider is my kid." he pats your cheek softly, "Thank you, this means a lot."
You nod with a smile, "You're welcome."
He narrows his eyes at you, "What have you been up to? Why are you being so nice?"
You slowly back away, "Pfft, what are you talking about? I've done nothing wrong"
A hologram pops up and Miguel watches as the T-Rex bellows at Pavitr's retreating form, and his head whips to you.
"Bye! Love you!" you shriek and jump off the platform, disappearing as he tries to follow you.
With a start he realizes what you just said.
"I hate that kid." he groans and then notices that he's grinning like an idiot.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara x y/n#atsv#atsv x reader#mini miguel<33
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