#i cant think of anything else

[rottenomelet]

Hey, could you do a little fic with yandere Choso? Going a little more into depth like the one you did with Geto? You’re writing is phenomenal

(note(s): i absolutely can :P i was thinking about doing this anyways like anon u just read my mind. and thank you :)

warning(s): implied kidnapping, implied stalking, mentions of period (non sexually), all-in-all slightly creepy tendencies. choso is just an oral king here so if that isnt ur thing, i sorry.)

Yandere Choso Thoughts (1k)

Here’s the thing: Choso is the oldest of ten. He’s hyper independent and he’s in a position of always taking care of others. But he doesn’t just enjoy the act; he embodies it. Being a caretaker is his pride and joy. Being an oldest brother is Choso’s absolute greatest accomplishment, and he wears the title like a medal.

So of course the same can be said when it comes to you, his precious darling.

Having you as his responsibility brings him immeasurable joy. Choso is prideful about how well he’s taken care of you, how much brighter and healthier you’ve looked since he’s taken you into his care.

He’s attentive to your needs like no one else, recognizes what you need even before you do. If you take any medication, he reminds you of it. He makes sure you drink enough water, that you eat balanced meals at healthy times, that you go to bed on time every night. Choso does not allow you much personal time for hobbies but he has no qualms about an - approved - book now and again, or even a tv show as long as you watch it with him.

Any nasty habits you have - smoking, drinking, not eating right, insomnia - he goes through absolute lengths to ‘cure’ you of. It’s not that he thinks these things make you imperfect, but rather that you’re his/. His darling, his responsibility - it just won’t do to have you feel anything but 100% good all the time.

Of course there is the more… concerning side of this attentiveness. He’ll mention special dates (an old friend’s birthday or the graduation of a family member). Choso will bring up tv shows you used to love but forgot about, give you comics you were once interested in but deemed too expensive. He even knows your cycle, buys you sanitary products the day before you begin. Choso sees no issue in telling you when you’re ovulating.

(“You’re at your most fertile today.” He’ll mention during dinner and you freeze. Your stomach churns as you process what he just said.

Choso doesn’t have to eat so he likes to sits there and watch you eat dinner. It was awkward at first, the man not much for talking and you reluctant to converse with your capturer. But as time passed, the two of you could at least exchange comments here and there for the duration of the meal.

Choso pays your discomfort no mind. “I know your stomach hurts, but try to eat a bit more. You have a busy night ahead of you and I want you at your best.”)

You’re in his capable hands now - there’s no reason to even think when Choso is there.

He’s caring in different ways too.

Choso loves your reactions. The way your brows scrunch, when you bite your lip, when your eyes roll into your skull. When your toes clench and your hips twitch and your thighs tremble. The sounds you make - heavens bells could never compare. Whether you’re moaning, whining, screaming, or crying his name, Choso revels in anything that leaves your lips.

He finds that the easiest way to get you to react is when his tongue is between your legs. You practically sing for him then.

The only thing he doesn’t like is how difficult it is to see your face when he’s down there. Because of this, his favorite position is with you on your back and your knees hooked over his shoulders. His face in your cunt, his eyes on you as he licks your most delicate place. He holds your shaking thighs apart as he suckles your clit. Choso practically moans with you when you cum on his tongue.

He doesn’t stop after one - doesn’t see a reason to. He’s here to take care of your every need - one orgasm isn’t enough for him.

(“No more. Please no more.” You whimper as you plead for Choso to have mercy on your sweet pussy.

You’ve come thrice on his tongue already. You’re shaking uncontrollably and the only reason you haven’t collapsed onto the bed yet is because Choso is holding you up. You’re overstimulated and your cunt aches. You can feel your clit pulsate on his tongue.

Choso only pauses his ministrations to reply. “You can handle it. You’ve done it before.”

He kisses the top of your cunt before sliding his tongue back against your special place. His tongue slides against your inner labia, only teasing your clit by circling it.

Your head falls back as moans spill out. It’s all just too much. You’ve never experienced pleasure like this - no one ever good enough at this to make you enjoy oral to this extent.

But Choso? Choso is a master at understanding your pleasure.

“I can’t.” You say, keening as you do.

“You can.” He responds and this time you know he’s not giving you any other options. “Just a little more, love. I know you can take it.”)

But even though Choso loves taking care of you, sometimes he needs to be taken care of.

He needs cuddles more than he would like to admit. He likes to lay on top of you with his head in your chest and your hand in his hair, scratching at his scalp. Choso likes praise, though he’ll never ask for it. Tell him he’s a good big brother, that he’s a good man to you too. He’ll be over the moon.

He’s quiet. He never reveals much of himself unless you prompt him to. He’ll always answer any question you have for him, adhere to most requests. But Choso will always be surprised, pleasantly so, when you show interest in him or want to spend time with him.

And when it comes to more human things, you find yourself leading. Kissing, hugging, holding hands. All things Choso has never heard about until you.

He was a shy kisser at first but now he absolutely loves it. That closeness? It’s something he could never replace.

He’s sweet, really. Choso just cares so much about you.

[thisonelikesaliens]

i keep going back to this. when Qian was Yuan's age here he was already working for the mob while being an elite student (and in the novel he actually quit school to support his family full-time)

and then this. all the love and sympathy that Yuan feels for his brother who never had the simple luxury of just being a student (which came across more clearly in the original phrase 你有好好當過學生嗎 vs the translation)

ugh. these two have my entire heart and they will hurt me and i will thank them for it

[bella-rose29]

Nikolai x f!reader: Arranged Marriages Chapter 1 - The Wedding

This is going to be a series (that I don’t yet have a name for so bear with me on that) that will be however many parts I think I can write (so please bear with me on that as well!). I’ll aim to get one part out a week for this, but I’ll probably still be writing other things as well, and if anyone wants to be added to a tag list for this series please let me know!

I couldn’t find much on weddings in the Grishaverse, so it works pretty much the same as weddings today I guess? (Please tell me if you have any thoughts on customs because I need all the help I can get I won’t lie) Also I took some creative liberties with the dress. 

This first part is the wedding itself (as the incredibly imaginative title suggests), and is Nikolai’s perspective, and reader is a Tidemaker for the purposes of this fic :)

Also I know that this is his coronation outfit but I imagined his wedding attire to be something similar!

Hope you enjoy! <3

Word count: 2.8k

Nikolai was late. 

He was very late, in fact, and yet he wasn’t concerned in the slightest. He was in the newly rebuilt Fabrikator workshops of the Little Palace, one of his favourite places to be when he had the time. He didn’t have the time now, but he was stressed, and tinkering with scraps of metal and some wires always calmed him down. The workshops themselves were empty, with all of the Grisha usually here instead in the Grand Palace, waiting for the wedding to happen. Nobody that saw him would think him stressed, and he felt incredibly calm, but he supposed that was the effect of being alone and in his element - or one of his elements. He longed for the sea, to feel the salty air on his face and be free on the waves, to be Sturmhond and not King of Ravka. But duty had called, and the war had threatened to destroy everything he loved on land, so he had given up his private life as the infamous privateer and become the king that Ravka needed. He scoffed outwardly at that; clearly Dominik had gotten into his head. 

Dominik. 

Nikolai missed his friend dearly, and not a day went by when he didn’t do something that reminded him of the man, but he had at least taught himself not to cry every time he did. He wondered what Dominik would say to him today, seeing him hiding away in here. Something profound and with so much meaning it would stick with Nikolai for the rest of his days. Or he’d call him an idiot and tell him to get off his ass. Yeah, probably the second one. 

He checked the clock on the desk next to him again. Twenty minutes. He really should have been there thirty minutes ago, and he had been for ten, but he got far too stressed and worried and slightly nauseous, so he’d come here and had stayed for the last twenty minutes. 

Maybe it was because of the impending doom he had to face when he left the comfort of the workshop, or maybe it was because he was completely enthralled in the mechanical system he was working on, but whatever it was, he had no worries about being late. 

He knew that he should be, given it was his wedding he had to attend.  

He tinkered for another few minutes, dressed in his wedding clothes and desperately trying to keep the oil and grime off of them (he knew that Genya would most likely murder him if he got them dirty), then was interrupted by a panicked Zoya slamming open the doors with a gust of wind which picked up papers all over the room and threw them in the air. Her face was desperate, then stormy as she spotted him bent over a table, and Nikolai would have feared for his life, except Zoya had been demanding he get married practically since he had the crown placed on his head at his coronation. Nothing would stop her now, and she wouldn’t kill him when she was so close. 

Maybe she will still kill me, he thought, then learn how to raise the dead so that this Saints-forsaken wedding can still happen.

She was in front of him now, palms flat on the desk in front of him, and her face was calm, which worried Nikolai. If her face was so calm then she was about to unleash a storm on him. He put down the metal he was holding, wiped his hands on a (somewhat) clean cloth nearby, stretched and said “I suppose I can’t hide forever. Let’s get this over with.”

His general only raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. For a moment, he thought he’d been let off the hook, but then she opened her mouth. 

“You do realise you should have been in there twenty minutes ago, don’t you? Do you have any idea what impression this will give everyone? They’ve been waiting this whole time to watch one of the greatest events of the last year and the King of Ravka can’t even show up to his own wedding! How do you think she’s feeling? She’s had to wait around for an extra twenty minutes because the king - her fiancé -  ran away! Sometimes I wonder if you actually have any brain cells left, or if they’ve been smoked out from the fumes in this workshop!”

Nikolai winced as Zoya ranted, hoping she’d realise how much he understood her anger. She’d stopped leaning on the desk a while ago, instead gesturing wildly with her hands as she berated him. 

“I’m sorry, Zoya, I just- you know how much I didn’t want this, and I only wanted to spend a few minutes in there in my last hours of freedom, and I got carried away and lost track of time and I’m sorry,” he replied, knowing it wasn’t nearly a good enough excuse but it was the only one he had. 

“Well you can’t keep running off every time you get scared, it’s not very kingly of you.” Her voice had softened a fraction when she spoke, and Nikolai knew it was all the sympathy he would get from her. She did know how much he didn’t want to get married, let alone get married to a complete stranger, but she also knew that Ravka and her government was falling apart, and without a queen she would shatter. Zoya had used that exact argument on Nikolai, which worked a treat since he cared about his country far more than himself (which he definitely needed to work on), and he had reluctantly agreed. It helped Zoya that he had been drinking when she argued her case. 

“Come on. You’re late enough as it is. Let’s go.” She turned and stalked out of the room, leaving no space for argument from Nikolai. It took him a split second too long to realise that, however, and he almost tripped over his chair when he hastily got up and jogged after her. Zoya was walking so fast he had to almost run to keep up, and he was half convinced she was using the air to push her along; he’d never seen her move so quickly. 

They rounded a corner and a worried Genya and mildly confused David turned to look at them. Genya shouted “You found him!” rushing over and checking his clothes, then his face and hair (which Nikolai thought was unfair since his face and hair were always perfect), then she shoved him towards the doors. He had a brief second to collect himself before they opened and everybody gathered in the hall turned to look at him. 

It was far too warm in here. 

He’d been in these sorts of situations before, such as his coronation, but he’d actually wanted to be there and be king, to help Ravka heal and do things for the better. He didn’t really want to get married to a complete stranger that he knew nothing about and had never met, and now he was walking the same path to a priest as he did with his coronation, but for an entirely different reason. His collar felt restricting around his neck and his clothes felt far too tight and his limbs felt numb, and it was an altogether stiflingly overwhelming sensation that Nikolai decided he could do without ever experiencing again. He managed to force himself to keep walking, though he did think that he might fall over any minute now, which he knew Genya and Zoya would never let him live down. 

Somehow Nikolai made it to the platform, although he couldn’t remember getting there, and he turned to take his position looking towards the double doors at the back of the room he had just walked through. He now felt entirely too hot, and his palms were sweaty in his gloves. He couldn’t take them off to wipe them, though, not unless he wanted to show all of the people gathered his black hands. Looking around at them all he knew that was not something he wanted at all, since the entirety of his court - complete with Grisha, nobles and soldiers - all of the Grisha that were living in the new Little Palace, delegations from Fjerda, Shu Han, Kerch, the Wandering Isles and Novyi Zem (apparently the royals and governments couldn’t make it themselves as they had far more important things than a royal wedding) and a few friends from his past including a certain white-haired woman and her partner were watching him. While the last two knew about his... affliction, he definitely didn’t want it being shown to everyone here to be reported on. 

The rumours didn’t need to be confirmed as true. 

This wedding was meant to unite Ravka, make them stronger after the Fold had been destroyed and the Darkling killed, when they were without money and soldiers. If the entire hall knew that he truly lived up to the nickname Korol Rezni in ways they couldn’t imagine, then that, combined with the doubts about his claim to the Lantsov line, would ruin him, and he would most likely be cast off of the throne and out of Ravka, unable to help at all. He could go back to being Sturmhond, he supposed, but he would still live with the shame that he had failed Ravka as its king.

As for the matter of Grisha being prosecuted, by marrying a Grisha, Nikolai would present a united front to the rest of Ravka and the world, and hopefully show his neighbours in Fjerda and Shu Han that Ravka was still strong and definitely not broke or broken at all. By marrying a Grisha, he would unite the First and Second armies and hopefully start to mend some of the rift between Grisha and otkazat’sya. He himself couldn’t understand it; onboard the Volkvolny his crew had been both Grisha and not, and they’d all gotten along just fine. He’d never viewed Grisha as something to be afraid of, or as outcasts, or lesser, or inhumane, but then he’d also run around in fields and rolled in dirt as a child, then ran away to live on the True Sea, so he wasn’t exactly your typical prince with haughty old fashioned ideals. 

Uniting Ravka and proving the country’s strength. That was the idea, anyway. Who knew if it would work. He’d never even seen his bride-to-be, let alone had a conversation with her. She might be terribly boring, or never want to talk to him (which would be even worse than her being boring, as Nikolai always needed someone to talk to), or hate him for putting her into an arranged marriage. He knew nothing about her, and even less about her thoughts on this entire marriage ordeal, but he hoped she’d listen to him for long enough to find out. 

Time seemed to drag on for Nikolai as his Triumvirate took their places and people shifted in their seats, and then all of a sudden the doors opened, and his fiancée stepped through. 

She’s here, he thought, relief flooding through him. He was worried that she would have run away like he did, only permanently and out of the palace, which may have been an even bigger problem than him running away. Saints knew what people would say about him if his bride didn’t turn up to the wedding; most likely something about his character being secretly evil or him being unsuitable for ruling, for he cannot possibly keep a country if he cannot keep a wife. 

As she stepped forward, Nikolai tried to work out what she looked like, which proved difficult when he realised that a veil covered her face, but then he noted that her dress was deep Etherealki blue with lighter accents depicting waves. 

A Tidemaker, Nikolai realised. I hope she doesn’t drown me for this marriage. 

She walked further up the aisle, steps supposedly sure but Nikolai could see the slight hesitation. He’d felt it himself not too long ago as he made the journey towards the priest. Finally she made it to the platform, and he offered his hand out to her with a small smile. She looked up at him (he guessed, he couldn’t actually see her face but her head had moved) and took it, allowing herself to be pulled up next to him. The two of them turned towards the priest conducting the ceremony, and Nikolai took a shaky breath as it started. 

The priest addressed the audience with a short speech about love and duty, most of which Nikolai drowned out, since he was too unfocused and distracted, then turned to the pair stood directly in front of him and said “Please, Your Majesty, if you would remove her veil.”

He turned to his left and did so, hands shaking slightly. He hoped she couldn’t tell how nervous he was, and that the sweat hadn’t seeped through his gloves (which was a stupid thought because they were Fabrikator made), but then he’d lifted her veil and could see her face and he felt as though he had forgotten to breathe. 

Saints, he thought. She’s stunning. 

At least the shallower members of his court would appreciate her beauty, even if they weren’t happy about her being Grisha. He pulled his hands back, and gave her another smile, hoping to ease her nerves. She smiled softly back at him, and he thought he might faint from how beautiful it was. They turned back to face the priest, and he asked them to repeat the vows that had been written and rewritten weeks before this day to make sure they were just right. 

Nikolai could feel sweat dripping down his spine from how anxious he was as they got closer to being married. She seemed to be flawless, not a bead of sweat in sight, and he cursed himself for being unable to hold himself together in what was just another court function and kingly duty. 

When they were asked to exchange rings, he saw that her hands were trembling like his were, and he was comforted by the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous about this arranged marriage. Perhaps they could bond over it.

“Nikolai Lantsov, do you take Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Y/N L/N, he thought. So that’s her name. It suited her. Y/N Lantsov now, he supposed. Which for some reason sounded even better to him. 

“I do.” He took her hand in his and slipped the Lantsov Emerald on her ring finger, silently thanking the Fabrikators who had measured it on her a few days ago and adjusted the band accordingly so that it fit as if it were made for her.

Then they swapped and she was being asked “Y/N L/N, do you take Nikolai Lantsov to be your lawfully wedded husband?” and was answering with a clear “I do,” placing a ring on his finger, over the glove (the ring had been made to fit like that so he didn’t have to show his hands). 

The priest recited a few words in Old Ravkan, then smiled and said “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Nikolai moved forward, trying to ask with his eyes if she was alright with the two of them kissing, but she looked scared and anxious. He placed his hands on either side of her face and whispered for her to close her eyes and trust him, and she did, lids fluttering closed. He closed his own eyes, leaning in but pausing a breath away from her lips, covering them with his hands. Her own hands had come up to grasp the front of his jacket, and he thought she’d lifted herself up a little too. Then when people had started to clap and cheer he pulled away, opening his eyes and stroking her cheek with a thumb while his other hand dropped to hold hers. Her eyes opened too, confusion lacing her expression for the slightest moment before it was schooled and she was smiling again, although he could see in her eyes that it was still there. She was clearly unsure why he hadn’t actually kissed her, but Nikolai couldn’t bring himself to do anything when she hadn’t properly asked him to, and this whole business was, in his opinion, so awful anyway that he figured she might as well want to kiss him than have to do it because other people wanted her to. He’d have to explain all of that to her later, of course, but for now they just turned to their audience and he offered her his arm. She took it, and once again Nikolai was relieved that she was going along with it and not running away, and they both smiled as widely as they could manage given they had just married perfect strangers. The two of them made their way back down the aisle, her arm in his, his steps in time with hers. 

Well, he mused. At least we look good together. 

Actually being good together would be a different matter entirely, and he wasn’t sure that they would be able to pull it off. 

Chapter 2 

[ghostorbz]

[peculiar-lesbian]

First thing I would do if I ever came across Isabel cuckoo is give her a pair of hot pink converse, she would be able to pull it off I promise

[still-in-the-deep-end]

me, right now.

[minty-cofffee]

anyone know anything about mp3 's? i got this for Christmas close to i think 6 years ago now it charged, worked once, but once it said done charging the next time, it just. didn't turn on at all so now i have taken it upon myself to disassemble it to reveal its guts to see the problem, except I know literally nothing about tech. at all. help? besides the case being off, is there anything visibly wrong with it?

[uselesspasserby]

[my4ththerapist]

Something ab main characters with olive skin

[piercedmysoul]

just saw a post saying they didn't like good omens 2 as much as s1 and i genuinely don't understand bc it literally rewired my brain INCORRECTLY and it melted and now i have crowley for brain and its going horribly wrong

[crimsonwing62]

One thing I will say why i don't like about fictional bands is,

THEY'RE NOT REAL!!

I don't care if in real life I wouldn't normally listen to that style, be into that scene or genre of music. Usually I'm open to all music but it's finding the right bands and artists to listen to I find hard. I don't have hours or the patience to explore new bands or genres. So when I see one in a TV show or a fandom, I wanna listen to their actual albums.

Especially with how creative fandoms can be. Y'all create an entire fic centered around an artist writing an album, or a song. Y'all explain the whole story behind it, the overarching narrative, who the song was written for. While I'm over here melting at how awesome these ideas are

AND I CAN'T LISTEN TO IT!!

Ugggggggghhh!!!

[leaderlamby]

What if we made sayings cotl-ified

"It's hot as hell" -> "It's hot as Anura"

"You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink." -> "You can lead a follower to your cult, but you can't make them convert."

"This ain't my first rodeo." -> "This ain't my first crusade."

[clownenergyy]

malevolent podcast my best friend malevolent podcast

[midnight-stormm]

I think a fun two player game dreamnap should play is 'A Way Out'. It's a good game, I've seen many people play it and it's entertaining. I think they both would enjoy it. A game that takes two player skills and work together to meet an end goal.

[ac3th3shark]

After a while of not having Geto around Gojo comes to terms with the fact that even if neither of them directly saying it they definitely broke up. It takes a bit for him to get comfortable with talking about it but soon after he is he starts joking about them being divorced.

Everyone is very confused when he first starts doing this because 'what? Aren't you a high school student??? How are you divorced???' Gojo would always go on a whole rant about how his beautiful husband who he loved very much died in some horrible accident resulting in him being widowed. Shoko and Nanami would usually push Gojo away and tell them that they broke up and that's all they need to know.

A few years or so later Gojo is almost entirely over Geto, he still makes jokes about them being divorced though, and Nanami is also fully over Yu who he had a crush on before his death. The two of them start developing feelings for each other and it's not long after they get together that Gojo adds Nanami into his whole story about his ex-husband Geto. "My dear husband Geto died in a horrible accident years ago but thankfully, I was able to recover and meet my new husband Nanami!" Nanami gave up on stopping him from telling the story years ago, now he just stands to the side and sighs while watching the concerned and confused looks on the faces of the poor victims of Gojo's story telling.

Eventually the two actually do get married and it only fuels Gojo's story more. He almost tells it more often now.

Geto finds out about the story that Gojo has been telling during the events of jujutsu Kaisen 0 when Geto comes to tell them about the parade of 1000 demons (I think that's what it's called idkkk I forgot sorryy) and Gojo makes a comment about how rude it is of his ex-husband to show up again years after the divorce with no warning and Geto is so confused.

"What do you mean divorce??"

*Sniff Sniff* "Really? Pretending like you don't remember? Right in front of the kids too!?" Gojo references to his students who look just as confused as everyone else.

They just keep arguing like that until Geto gives in and leaves.

Despite his constant joking about it Gojo is really sad about Geto and how things ended. He really loves Nanami but sometimes he wonders what things would have been like if Geto decided to be a jujutsu sorcerer and stay with him. He really wishes that they at least could have properly broken up.

Nanami knows about how he feels, and he doesn't mind. He helps to comfort Gojo whenever he feels really bad about it and feels like what happened was somehow his fault.

[peculiar-lesbian]

Perekoo on shot thing I though of while getting noodles

To say I was nervous was an understatement I was terrified, even after multiple different affirmations that “it would be okay” and that “they would love you” I still couldn’t stop myself from tugging at the sleeve of my blazer while walking down the hall to the big oak doors at the end of it.

The ymbryne ball, no ymbryne was aloud to miss it especially a newly graduated one, at first I was quite excited, alma was the nervous one, but soon that switched when I realised this would be the first time I met the council to its full extent, not to say I have not seen them before, some come over for a few months to help out in the academy while miss Bunting was sent away to take care of other ymbrynes but it came quite clear in later years that the council wanted to separate them. Though most of the girls chalked it up to those ymbrynes actually needing assistance, I knew why and so did Alma

“It’s because we are different” miss A had said on that fateful evening when word got out about mine and Alma’s relationship, though me and alma never found out exactly who we had a high suspicion it was Jack and Angelica, Birds did I want to punch her. After going over the past we had together (and how much I despised her), I snapped back and realised I had just been standing in front of the door like an idiot I took and deep breath in and opened the door, Birds wish me luck.

I had looked for Isabel everywhere, I last saw her walking down the stairs looking rather worried but then Florence asked me about something and I got complete distracted, I was now sat down at a table in the massive ball room with a dress that made me really uncomfortable with someone talking to me, though I wasn’t listening which was rude but I just couldn’t help but look for her, more because of worry for my dear cuckoo, but also just wanting to be around her for the rest of my days alive.

“Alma are you okay”

I looked around to try find who said that and then locked eyes with a blond in a blue dress, Balenziaga wren, I quickly stood up to hug her

“I-I thought you weren’t coming birds above I’m so glad to see you”

“And miss both you and Izzy’s special day? No way” she chuckled smiling at me as I pulled away from the hug

“Speaking of Izz-“

“I cant find her!” I blurted out and then quickly looked around my face starting to feel hot with embarrassment

“Birds you lost your girlfriend already?”

“She’s not my! Just help me find her”

“Okay,okay”

We then both went into the crowd looking for her.

Sorry this is not finished I just lost motivation @evil-feather take this