#reminder that whim goes by they/them only!!!!

[spoiledskullz]

Messy ref of Whimsy's younger designs so I could add them to art fight LOL

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

Perfect. | joel miller x f!reader drabble, 1.6k

Summary: You're full of Joel, but you need him in your mouth, too. Joel delivers.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, pwp, rough sex, dom!joel, sub!reader, established relationship, everything that happens is discussed and consensual, cursing, praise kink, size kink, degradation kink, unprotected p in v, minor anal play, nipple play, reader is obsessed with Joel's fingers, hair pulling, (1) ass slapping, manhandling, gagging kink, deepthroat, free use at the end, facial, cum eating, belated aftercare, as always, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: There's not much to say, this is pure filth, just to cleanse my palette of all the anguish I've brought upon myself! It was written on a whim, so here goes 👀

P.S.: I don't need to remind you how much I hate summaries. I hate them. OK, ily all, bye!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Fuck, you feel so good-” Joel pants between your breasts as you take him deep inside you, riding him, “uuuuuh, perfect- fuck- perfect little pussy-” He’s so big, you feel him in your belly. Your cunt is stretched to its limit but you’re so wet from all the orgasms he pulled out of you before impaling you on his hard cock, that he slides inside you with ease.

He sits on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the soft carpet beneath him. His hands cradle your ass, kneading it and maneuvering you up and down on his thick cock, while you lock your hands around his neck for leverage.

His fingertips glide lightly over your asshole as he holds you open and stretched in his palms, feeling your tight ring of muscle clench on his digits. His lower belly and balls are soaked in your arousal, the hairs on his base glued together by your sticky slick. Your clit rubs against them every time you roll your hips.

Joel runs his big calloused palms up your back, sending shivers down your spine and as you arch your back in pleasure, pushing your breasts closer to his face, he cups them, pinching your hardened nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You look down at his hands as he continues to arouse your tits and the sight makes your clit twitch and your cunt clench around him.

His wet tongue enters the game, flicking it up and down over your erect nubs, sending jolts of pleasure through your body and your thighs begin to tremble both from exhaustion and arousal.

Your fingers run through his hair, tugging gently. He moans as his hand comes down hard on your asscheek. You whimper at the spreading pain, your cunt gushing around his cock, the lewd sounds of your joined sexes only making it more obvious.

You fuck him so good and hard, sucking him deep inside you, you start creaming around him.

You become obsessed with his hands. Big, strong, veined and tanned, with tiny freckles, his fingers calloused and skillful; their expert touch, always bring you to completion.

“I wanna suck your fingers. Please..” you coo into his ear, your hands tugging desperately at the unruly curls at the back of his head.

“Mhhhh..yeah?” Joel turns his head towards you, his aquiline nose pressing against your cheek.

Your grip on him tightens as you continue to bounce on his cock, your voice laced with need and lust, “Please, Joel..”

Joel grants your wish and moves a palm away from your breast but doesn’t bring it to your mouth. Instead, he snakes it between your bodies, collecting your arousal from his slick-coated base. He’s going to be the death of you.

He brings his shiny fingers to your face allowing you to take the lead, go on, then. Milky strings of your slick create little webs connecting his digits together.

You encircle his wrist with your delicate fingers and bring his palm to your nose, smelling the combination of your juices and his musk, making your eyes roll. “You dirty little thing..” he mutters to himself, smirking as he begins to meet your thrusts with his own, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the otherwise silent room.

You open your eyes and slowly wrap your lips around his middle and ring fingers, swirling your tongue around the tips as you would his cock head. “Fuck.” he grunts through his teeth and you feel him twitch inside you, his breath stuttering. You hollow out your cheeks and suck them into your warm mouth, bobbing your head up and down on them, your eyes never leaving his.

“You like that, babygirl? Suckin’ my fingers like you do my cock?”

“Mmhmm..” you all but moan, your face wrecked from the intensity of the moment.

“Wanna gag on them?” Fuck yes.

“Mhhhh” you whine now, sucking even harder to make a point. He pushes his fingers further into your mouth as his cock pushes deeper into you, stroking that sweet spot that only he can reach. He presses on your gag reflex, making you gag and your eyes water. Your grip on his wrist is firm, making sure his fingers stay in your mouth.

“Such a fuckin’ whore f’ me, aren’t you? Stuffing your holes full ’a me, huh?” You clench violently around him, almost to the point of coming, your breath coming in short pants. He leans forward, his lips brushing your ear “Maybe I should stuff your tight little hole with my other hand, I bet you’d like me in there, too. I bet you’d take me so well, yeah?”

His dirty talk drives you wild and you arch your spine again, moaning around his fingers but he quickly withdraws them, strings of saliva briefly connecting your lips to his tips and you whimper at the loss.

He lowers his slick fingers to tap quickly but gently on your swollen clit. You cry out at the stimulation, waves of electricity rippling through your body. “Gonna come on my cock baby? Yeah..” he breathes, his eyes fixed on your face, contorted with pleasure, “Yeah, you are.”

That does it; you come so hard, spasming around his stiff length, making a mess on his lap. Joel stops fucking into you, staying buried to the hilt inside you, feeling the tight grip of your cunt choking him in rhythm.

“That’s it, thaaat’s it, look at me, baby, fuck- fuckmmphh- this perfect cunt-” Joel keeps guiding you through your orgasm, biting where your neck meets your shoulder.

Your mouth is slack from the force of your release but it feels so empty and before you come down completely you are begging for him. “I need you in my mouth, Joel- I need you to fill me with your cum, please Joel, please..” you beg deliriously.

“Christ, baby.” Joel grits his teeth and pulls you off his lap and his hard member, forcing you onto your knees and shoving his cock into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your hair. He can't deny you when you beg so prettily.

The taste is heavenly. Tasting yourself on him as you breathe in his heady scent makes your head spin with desire. “That’s it, gag on it.” he says as he focuses on his shaft, veiny, swollen and shiny, disappearing into your warm mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.

He knows. He sees it all in your eyes, you’re so far gone, surrendered to your pleasure and his. Joel begins to fuck your throat in deep, sharp thrusts, his thighs tensing and bulging under your palms. He rests his hand around your throat, feeling it bulge under his fingertips.

You’re utterly ruined. Your eyes are bloodshot and filled with tears, and your lips are stretched and swollen as you drool around him. Your face is coated in sweat, saliva and your arousal. You can taste your cum and his pre-cum on your tongue, along with every ridge and vein of his erection. You just kneel there, between his legs like a toy, letting him take and give what you both need.

“Fuck, look at you. Look at you, my sweet girl, choking on this big cock.”

You don’t react, you just sit there, pliant and doe-eyed and take it; content and worry-free. You make it so hard for him to hold back any longer. He’s about to come and he has this irresistible urge to ruin that innocent, fucked out look on your face.

He pulls his cock out of your mouth and jerks furiously over your face, his biceps flexing from the effort, his other hand firmly gripping your hair to maneuver you as he pleases. You look up at him in total surrender, tongue out, longing for what’s to come.

His eyebrows are drawn together, his jaw is slack and his mouth is open in that perfect shape that his plush lips form, as he breathes heavily. His broad torso, covered in both yours and his sweat, rises and falls rapidly, his muscles flexing deliciously under his skin.

He comes and comes with a deep, guttural moan all over your face; your forehead, your eyelashes, your nose, your cheeks, your lips, everything is marked by his thick, warm, milky cum. Your cunt flutters at this act of degradation and possession.

“Don’t open them; it’ll sting.” you hear him say while catching his breath, referring to your closed eyes and your cum-coated lashes. You do as he says and wait behind the darkness of your closed eyelids for him to take care of you. But Joel just sits there, admiring his handiwork as he comes down from his high.

You can hear his heavy breathing and the lack of sight is the only thing that makes you realize he’s human, like you. This otherwise divine creature is human.

“Let’s clean you up.” you finally hear him say as you feel his thumb wipe his now cold and dry cum from your skin, press it gently against your lips and feed it to you. You swallow every last drop of it, your tongue warm and welcoming around his digit. He leaves your eyes last.

When he’s finished, he holds the sides of your face with his palms, taking a good look at your submissive form, resting his forehead against yours.

You slowly open your eyes as he plants soft kisses all over your face. “Perfect..” you hear him murmur, more to himself than to you.

“Perfect and mine.”

[hxney-lemcn]

Care for Yourself my Love — Overblots x gn! reader

summery: taking care of yourself wasn't your best skill, thankfully you have someone to help you build it up.

tw: unhealthy eating habits! If you're sensitive to this please don't read this fic! I'm not glorifying or romanticizing this, I just wish I had someone to help keep me on track (you'll notice I make the reader actively try to better themselves). mentions of depression/depressive traits (leona, idia).

a/n: I wanted to write something, ik people have done this already but here's my two cents because I've delt/deal with this too

wc: 1.7k (~250 per character)

Master List

Riddle Rosehearts

You don’t try to be so forgetful, it’s just you're either always running late or you find yourself procrastinating to the point you don’t have time. Unfortunately, your carelessness has gotten to the best of you and you found yourself nearly passing out while preparing for the upcoming unbirthday party. Even more unlucky, you swayed dizzily in front of Riddle, nearly toppling over and knocking over paint buckets. At first he felt his temper flare, that paint wasn’t cheap and now they’ll have to get more. Not only that, but now your shoes, socks, and pants were covered in red paint. But then he noticed the concerned look on Trey’s face and how you held onto him for support while holding your head, eyes closed tight. That was when the worry set in, were you alright? Why had you been so clumsy in the first place? You apologized to the two, casually bringing up how you can’t remember eating anything yet and that was most likely the cause. After that, Riddle tried keeping track for you, scolding you anytime you mumbled about forgetting to eat. How could you forget something so important! You couldn't learn properly if you didn’t take care of yourself. Not to mention the heart attack he nearly gets every time he recalls that moment of you nearly fainting in the rose garden. He doesn’t want that to happen again, so he’ll continue to help you out until you learn to take care of yourself better.

Leona Kingscholar

Honestly…I think he’s in the same boat. People call him lazy, selfish, and rude, and his only escape from all his problems is his dreams. Where people love him, where he’s important, where he’s cherished. So this can go one of two ways. 1) You both feed into each other's bad habits and become worse. Or 2) you notice his bad habits, and in trying to correct them (Ruggie helps tremendously with this…he also gets free food so he doesn’t mind) you find yourself improving on your own. Leona lets you take however much money you want, little does he know, most of that money is being used on him as well. You end up buying matching water bottles on a whim and you find yourself actually drinking a healthy amount of water now. This also goes for Leona, as every time you get food, you bring some for him, every time you go to get water, you bring some for him. In fact, he actually uses the water bottle you bought him, but it's only cus it reminds him of you…not that you’ll ever know. Slowly over time, you both improve each other, and you find yourselves feeling more healthy than ever before. Especially when Leona decides to have you join him for his spell drive training, making you participate in it as well. Not because he hates you, but he sees what you’ve done for him, and wants to help you in his own way in return…he just makes it seem and feel like a punishment. 

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is a sharp one that never lets a detail go. He noticed your bad habits from the start. It only bit him back when he started to genuinely care for you. He felt his mind want to tear itself apart when you came by the lounge after school, immediately being placed in his VIP room, and him hearing your stomach growl. When he asked if you wanted food you denied, stating you didn’t have the funds. That made him want to rip Crowley apart. Instead of letting that anger show, he only smiled, making up some bullshit about how its on the house today. Azul made sure that the Leech twins kept an eye on you, and if your self-destructive habits got too out of hand they would step in. At first you were apprehensive when Jade would randomly appear, asking if you’ve eaten or drank anything recently. Azul nearly broke down in tears when one time you shrugged nonchalantly, asking if it mattered. It was then that you realized that your habits not only affected you, but the people you cared about as well. So you promised him you’d try to better yourself. If you forgot breakfast you at least had a granola bar on hand. If you forgot water, Floyd would throw a water bottle at you. It was a slow process, but after a while you started taking better care of yourself, and all Azul could do was breathe a sigh of relief. He was not going to let someone he cared about become their own greatest downfall. 

Jamil Viper

At first, he’s annoyed. Out of spite he won’t help you, his gray eyes watching to see you stumble with slight gratification. Those feelings soon crumbled the closer you two got, and that gratification slipped into apprehension. Jamil was going to lose all his hair at this rate. So when you forgot to buy food, or used all your money for other necessities Jamil started packing you a lunch alongside his own and Kalim’s. He quickly grew annoyed at how pleased he felt when he watched you scarff down his food, exclaiming how great it was. You forgot how warm the Scarabia dorm was and were currently sweating to death beneath all your layers? Don’t worry, Kalim had bought you tons of outfits already (no matter how much Jamil tried to stop him), he’ll take you to a spare room for you to change. You start feeling woozy, there’s a seat nearby and he’s already got water and a snack. Even though he’s still a bit annoyed he had to do all this in the first place…you had managed to wiggle your way into a soft spot in his heart. So for you, he doesn’t mind taking care of you. Not as long as you promise to try and learn to take care of yourself as well, because he’s not sure how much more his heart can take seeing you accidentally hurt yourself in one way or another. Plus, he won’t always be there to stabilize you…not unless you choose to stay by his side. 

Vil Schoenheit

This mf knew right away. He could tell with the way you cared so greatly for others, that you had no room to care for yourself. Vil makes a whole schedule for you, when you should eat, drink water, and exercise to be your best self. You are now an honorary pomefiore student with the way he treats you. Even with the added slack of not living on the dorm grounds…you’re still not safe. Vil gets spider senses with you slacking on self care and sends Rook to check in on you. He makes you set alarms, gets you a fashionable yet hefty water bottle for you to carry around. Honestly…he works the best when it comes to self care. He doesn’t even have to text you anymore, you’ll be slouching and he’ll pop in your mind and you fix your posture. Talk about living in your mind rent free. He’s also the harshest, his whole thing is being your best self and he’ll be damned to see you hurt yourself because you weren’t thinking clearly due to not eating enough. It all comes from a place of care though, he’s just not the best at expressing that. Just know that every time he scolds you it’s because he cares about you. If it gets too much though just tell him, he’ll pamper you a bit with a self care spa day sometime soon. At the end of the day, he wants to see you thrive, not survive. 

Idia Shroud

…worst person. Sorry. He’s worse than Leona. At least Leona is a part of a sport and still has to slightly take care of himself because of that. Idia has no motivation whatsoever. He is in his room nearly 24/7 with barely any contact outside. Never drinks water, barely eats (it's mostly snacks at that), and does he even sleep? Ortho is the one who does constant check-ins and brings him food and water. Although Ortho keeps constant health checks, he can’t help but be sad everytime he sees his brother push food to the side and forget about it. So if you’re looking for someone to help you with your habits I’m sorry but Idia will feed into your bad ones. If anything, it's Ortho helping you out. One time, you and Ortho had a little cooking hang out, and you brought a portion to Idia, and he ate it right away. It was then that Ortho found out a way to make you and his brother eat more. So expect more invites to cook with Ortho. In fact, he even got Idia to join! How fun! Even though the outcomes were more or less mid, you all had fun while making it. It got to the point that you and Ortho would keep challenging yourselves and would have Idia be your taste tester. Besides, how could he say no to you when you stared at him so expectantly? Just don’t ask why he never rates your food under a 7 out of 10. 

Malleus Draconia

Fae’s and humans were similar and different. One big difference was how much one needed to consume in order to sustain themself. You’d think a dragon fae would need to eat a lot in order to sustain such a powerful body, but they actually eat less. So if anything, Malleus didn’t see anything abnormal about how little you ate or drank. So when you immediately fell back in your seat after attempting to stand up, Malleus had rushed to your side, unsure what was wrong. You smiled in a carefree manner while trying to wave away his worry, explaining how you probably should’ve eaten more. It was then that he realized he had been negligent about your health and went to Lilia for answers. He visibly paled when Lilia told him humans needed to eat at least three times a day and drink tons of water. Now you have a dragon fretting over you 24/7. He knew humans were fragile, but every day he finds out they’re more fragile than he originally thought which caused him to fuss over you. You needed to eat more, child of man, he doesn’t want you leaving him earlier than expected. Humans die if they don’t drink water for three days? He now carries a water bottle for you everywhere you go. You’ll never have to worry about forgetting to eat again…in fact, you’re probably pleading with Malleus to give you a break, you’ll die if you overeat too…which causes him to spiral again…

[after-witch]

Scaramouche + “I regret to inform you, my Lord, but I believe I may have fallen ill while you where away.”

The words you put so neatly to paper were done on a whim. You were bored and restless, maybe a little bitter, that someone who refused to let you access the greater wide world would feel justified in leaving you alone--not literally, though you hardly call a handmaiden and guards who won't converse with you outside of stilted repetition of their orders much better--for weeks at a time. Even if it was on some important business, something he couldn't get away from, and so on, as he told you.

So you wrote them down in a flourish,. To worry him, to bother him, maybe that was one and the same. You expected to get a vexed letter back... maybe even new orders to the guards to bring in a physician to examine you

What you didn't expect was to be woken in the dead of night by the sound of furious footsteps and snapping words, by the clang of guards' armors as they sprang to attention on what would have been an otherwise boring night watch.

What you didn't expect was your bedroom door to fling open, revealing Scaramouche, eyes wide and pupils large, breath puffing out in a furious huff.

But that is exactly what has happened, and now you're sitting up in bed, hair askew, your own eyes wide with fright. You cling to the luxurious blanket covering you in your thin night clothes.

"M-My lord!" Because what else is there to say, when your Harbringer husband storms in when he isn't supposed to return for another 4 weeks?

He's standing next to the bed before you can think or blink, face pink with exertion and perhaps anger.

"What's wrong? Have those idiots I left in charged called for a physician yet? Do you have a fever? Have you thrown up? You were the only one who bothered to write of your illness. I should have their heads."

The barrage of words leaves you at a loss. You didn't think he would be this upset.

"I... I..."

He grabs at you, clutches at your wrist, fingers pressing on your pulse, fast and frightened from your unexpected awakening.

"Spit it out," he says, but rather than pure irritation there's something woven into his words that gives you pause.

Fear?

Perhaps it's this realization that gives you the courage to push forward. You swallow and speak slowly, giving your voice some much needed hoarseness for good measure.

"I'm... feeling better now," you say, voice tiny and unsure. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have worried you. I had a terrible headache and stomach pains, but it passed a few hours after I wrote my letter, and I didn't think to change it."

His lips curl into a frown. He looks you over, perhaps taking in whether or not the sweat on your forehead is from heat or nervousness or the aftermath of illness.

And then his hand goes to your forehead, and your stomach clenches--it reminds you of your mother.

He tsks.

"You're still warm," he says, after some consideration.

Are you? Or is it a lie he's telling to make you feel better? Or to make himself feel better, for having come all this way in such a state?

"Lie down. I'll have a servant bring you something cool."

There's nothing to do but ease yourself back down on your pillows, watching the Harbringer that has made yourself your husband, and wait to see what comes next.

[heartgold]

(incest, csa, suicide cw)

umineko is full of complicated and fucked up parent/child dynamics, so the way kumasawa and genji were like the parent figures sayo always wished she could have and then turned out to be the people who hurt her with the most intent often flies under the radar. but I'm constantly thinking about it.

they never saw her as more than an extension of her biological mother and a way to personally atone for failing her... by ultimately failing her daughter too and in very similar ways. kumasawa incentivised young sayo's beatrice roleplay and taught her magic bc "it was like it was meant to be". in kumasawa's eyes, it was as if beatrice's daughter unknowingly shared a connection to her mother thanks to the whims of fate. but to sayo, the magic she was taught became her primary way to cope and to find some confidence in the face of the hardships she was going through. of course the idea of no longer being 'yasu', the clumsy servant mocked by everyone, but rather the powerful witch beatrice who inspires their respect became so important to her! but then as she learned later, she spent all her life roleplaying as her dead mother who was horribly abused (and whose abuse was enabled and covered up by sayo's parent figures!) and by then she had all but absorbed her as part of her identity and sense of self, all while being secretly primed to ultimately play her part and finally "become" her in genji's bullshit redemption arc plan for kinzo. kumasawa knew everything and intentionally encouraged this while sayo had no idea. it's no wonder beatrice went from being something empowering to sayo to the cruel voice tormenting her in her head, reminding her of her worst thoughts. beatrice became an embodiment of trauma! not just sayo's trauma but also her mother's, which she took upon herself. all of the people who knew the truth manipulated her into walking the path of becoming her mother and saw her as nothing but that. a replacement, a vessel for the "true" beatrice. the very same idea behind her mother's grooming and abuse.

the cruel irony here is how all of this was done to prove a point about kinzo not repeating his actions and to relieve his guilt in time before his death, with genji/kumasawa/nanjo celebrating kinzo being "successfully redeemed" by not raping his daughter again... all while sayo comes out of this horrific situation terribly sexually traumatized regardless. all at once, she learns the depth of violation she suffered from some of the few people she thought were on her side. the way she was manipulated and gaslit all her life about the circumstances of her birth, her parentage, her body, her entire identity and personhood. how they were willing to risk her safety by making her work under kinzo to prove that he wouldn't sexually abuse her. the shock of learning what happened to the mother she was unknowingly raised to become, and how those people did nothing to help her back then either. how her mother, too, was groomed into playing the role of her own mother for kinzo!!! the horror doesn't end. the traumatic impact and consequences of all of this on her life were never in their minds, only making sure sayo would play her role in granting kinzo a peaceful death. putting kinzo's guilt to rest was always the priority, and by trying to prove he wouldn't repeat the past, they did so themselves by dooming another beatrice into becoming a vessel for her mother and shouldering generations worth of trauma.

there's this metaphor in umineko about the powerlessness of children before their parents and how many are born to fulfill a specific purpose for them, becoming an extension of their parents who project on their children and try to shape them into a specific kind of person to successfully play a role. having a child is compared to creating a fictional character which is compared to inserting a piece of yourself on a gameboard. this goes for every parent/child dynamic in the story including allegorical ones such as bern/erika, and of course this reflects the way the only people sayo could call her parent figures shaped her into an accessory in her father's narrative. she was always their means to achieve that, not even a person in the grand scheme of things. a piece of their own creation, shaped and molded into a role, without autonomy of her own. furniture in every meaning of the word in sayo's personal lexicon.

it hurts how she trusted them and even made fantasy versions of them to include them in her world! she wanted them to be part of it and that's a precious thing to her! and then turns out the characters she created were much better people than their human vessels. even more encouragement to reject reality altogether and immerse herself even deeper in a rabbithole of fantasy to cope with her real life being almost unsurvivable after nonstop betrayal and hurt!

the nail in the coffin is, after doing all of... That out of his fucked up sense of loyalty to kinzo, genji goes on to enable and help out with sayo's mass murder-suicide plan... as his way to atone for how much suffering he caused her? the results of his actions were a major driving force in her suicidality and furniture complex among all the many factors pushing her into a corner, and then he reasons that agreeing to help her kill herself along with literally everyone and providing her with the means to do it is the correct thing to do for her??? genji's undying sense of duty and loyalty is truly his worst and most terrifying quality. he'll stop at nothing to honor it.

[biteofcherry]

Hi!!! I ADORE the Nesting universe. Can we please have more drabbles? Does Reader come around to Steve's attentions? What's her favorite thing that Steve does as far as spoiling her? Does she do things for Steve too (and what does he like best)? Does she meet the rest of the family and how does she get along with everyone?

It's difficult for the Reader to decide on her opinion of this whole relationship. Aside from being a ruthless mob boss - a side of Steve that really scares her - Steve's very caring and patient with her. Yes, he is overprotective, but he somehow finds reasonable middle ground to meet her needs and desires too (lbh, he does it in a way that gets him what he wants, but is so subtle the Reader thinks her own demands were met). She can't fully accuse him of hiding her from the world, or forbidding her to do things. Which makes being angry with him difficult.

And Steve does a lot of wonderful things, which would make her fall head over heels if only he wasn't a lethal criminal. She especially likes when he brings her fave sweet treats without occasion, or buys romance novels she likes to indulge in (he sometimes reads them to her in bed, aloud, and then snort that he can do it better... and shows her exactly how).

Most of all, she goes weak for how invested in the pregnancy and starting a family he is. Yeah, he's cocky and arrogant about knocking her up, but he's also actively participating in preparations. The fact he's very calm and supportive when Reader has a few meltdowns and scares regarding giving birth, makes her rely on him more and more. Even if sometimes it terrifies her when he speaks of keeping her full of him time after time.

She meets everyone who is important to Steve - which is a small circle of family and close friends. His mother adores her, though they had one tense discussion about how dangerous Steve is.

However, Steve kind of regrets appointing Yelena and Natasha as Reader's security. They're extremely efficient, but also like to indulge in some of whims he rather doesn't approve of. Like the time he had late meetings and got home only to find out his pregnant wife and her bodyguards were partying at a club...

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Natasha slides next to him before he even notices. She can move like a shadow and it's one of the reasons he chose her to protect you.

"Safe and sound, only releasing some tension." Romanoff chuckles, pointing at where you and Yelena twirl on the dance floor.

You had zero alcohol in your blood, only the fizzy cherry coke, but you feel a little drunk.

On endorphins.

Your face glows, eyes closed in bliss as you dance. The cobalt blue dress you wear is loose - more comfortable for your slightly rounded belly - but it's so short that more energetic twirls almost expose your ass.

A muscle in Steve's jaw twitches as he stares at you.

You're the hottest sight, but you're also showing off something that is his.

You are full of him and some people here still crave after you, as if they could ever scrape the mark of his ownership off you.

Your moves remind him of the night you met. His eyes set on you that evening and he couldn't look away. Perhaps you weren't the greatest dancer in the world, but the way you moved and how you tilted your head made him think of how you'd look when he fucked you.

You dance like that now, too.

As if you're begging to be fucked.

So maybe it's you who still doesn't fully accept the fact you belong to someone.

Steve undoes a button on his jacket, white beater beneath glowing bright under the strobe lights. He slowly strides towards you, people parting in his wake; a predator zeroed in on a clueless prey.

He gives a nod and Yelena smoothly dances away before you even notice.

Then he presses himself behind you, wrapping an arm around your middle, his hand splayed on your belly.

You jump at the first brush of a big, sturdy body against yours. But the possessive move of his hand and the scent of him (so familiar by now) makes you freeze.

"If you needed to release some tension," Steve murmurs into your ear, "I know better ways to do it."

You gasp out his name and try to turn around, but his hold on you tightens.

He starts moving, and forces you to move along with him, rocking your hips into his as the beat of the music turns more sensual.

His low voice in your ear makes you shiver. Your breath hitches when his other hand slides up your bare thigh and beneath your dress.

"If you wanted to dance," Steve's tone turns darker in the unmistakable sign of sealing your tormented fate.

"-you can give me a show."

Suddenly, he turns you around, so you're facing him. Both of his hands are locked on your hips, the fabric of your dress bunched up indecently.

"I'm taking you home." Steve declares. "You'll dance for me, little wife."

"And you won't get to release your tension until I'm satisfied with your performance."

[yourlocalcryptidbee]

⭐Lucifer Morningstar Headcanons

Headcannons about the lovely Lucifer Morningstar and the ways he acts with the even lovelier reader! Grab some snacks and a beverage, get comfy and enjoy <3

~1k words

GN-ish! Reader (mentions of hair long enough to braid that’s it) NOT proof read.

Dude hates crowds, like has a burning(get it? hellfire? burning…never mind) hatred for them, most of them anyways. Crowds, people in general, can’t seem to think for themselves when around him. It’s always ‘whatever you want, your majesty,’ ‘don’t let us stop you, your majesty’ ‘we’ll do whatever you ask, your Majesty’ It reminds him of Heaven and the councils, and the masses, and the sermons….the list goes on. It’s Groupthink on steroids. A complete echo chamber that a young Lucifer tried to break. That version of Lucifer stood up to the majority and lost everything because of it. Of course that man still can’t stand it, especially now that he’s on the other end of it. He wishes that sinners could at least try to have a personality around him, not just a bunch of spineless pushovers, ready to wait hand on foot in fear of being smote.

He likes to watch you, not in a creepy way! At least he hopes that it isn’t creepy to you. Simply put, Lucifer likes to see you there, see you take up space in his home. Although he isn’t apposed to helping cook breakfast or clean, he’d much rather just watch you do it. It’s a comfort thing for him, watching you physically move around and disturb his space reminds him that you’re real and not something his mind made up as a last ditch effort to fix his depression. In the beginning when you would sleep over at his house, Lucifer wouldn’t make his bed after you left. He’d just leave all the bunched up blankets and sheets exactly how you left them. It made him feel less lonely when he had to sleep by himself the next night.

Frivolous. Like, truly does not care how much he spends on shit. Couldn’t even try to think about caring. It doesn’t matter to him. Partly due to his pride, he’s the big dick in charge of hell! of course he has the money for that 24k gold and diamond encrusted something or other. Especially if he’s buying something for you or Charlie. Your wish is his command after all.

His house is sssssoooo dusty. After his divorce he had quarantined himself to his bedroom, bathroom and office. He never went anywhere else in his house, he would portal himself between the rooms when necessary so he didn’t even use the hallways! Which one could imagine would leave a substantial amount of dust EVERYWHERE. He had invited you to his home for the first time on a whim, feeling proud of himself for finally asking and had coincidently walked through his front door, only to cough from inhaling so much dust. That pride turned to horror as he realized he only had an hour to clean his house before you showed up. That man had never moved faster in his life. He was so focused, unfortunately sometimes on the wrong things, I mean why was he cleaning the support beams that were 15 feet high and attached to the ceiling and not, I don’t know, the kitchen!? 

Lucifer cannot throw things away. Just look how long he wore his wedding band after he and Lilith split. In fact, he still has kept the ring after getting together with you, though he’s not wearing it, Lucifer just couldn’t bring himself to get rid of something like that. It still lives in a nice box in the very back of his nightstand. This is even worse when it comes to gifts from either you or Charlie. It could be the stupidest thing and he’ll cherish it and hold onto it for eternity. All those rocks, broken crayons, leaves, and bottle caps that baby Charlie gave to him? All tucked away safely to this day, hell, sometimes he’ll look through it all as a little pick me up. Maybe this has to do with being physically thrown out of his home in heaven or maybe he just is sentimental, even Lucifer doesn’t know.

Loves having his wings be taken care of. It was hard after he fell from heaven, those beautiful white wings now a blood red? Not something he liked to look at. It reminds of what he failed to do and of the pain he created for all of humanity. Having you take care of that is so special to him. You take the time to preen his wings and make sure they’re perfect. One of the things that are constantly reminding him of his failure as an angel is just so easily accepted and loved by you. Something so small to you, means the world to him. You can look at something that symbolizes failure and still love it unconditionally because it’s Lucifer’s? Yeah, he loves it that you take care of him.

Will 1000% make dad jokes when he doesnt know what to say. It’s honestly adorable. This happened on multiple occasions when your relationship was still new. A conversation would finish and there’d be a lull or a pregnant pause, and then he’d just “what-what do you call a can opener that’s broken?”

.

.

.

“a can’t opener. ” 

Cue his quiet, stifled yet awkward laughter at his own joke and the distant groan from Charlie who has probably heard that a million times already.

Has a gift for braiding hair. Honestly, he’s pretty good at styling hair in general but allow him to braid your hair and his talent just shines through. His own hair has some length to it so he has in fact braided his own hair but come on, his (ex)wife and baby girl have some of the longest blonde hair in the underworld, of course, he knows what he’s doing. Doesn’t matter what style or where the braid originated, he can do it. The cherry on top is that when he’s combing out your hair beforehand, there isn’t a single tug. Could this be magic? Yes. Could this also be a skill carefully cultivated over the literal millennia he’s been alive? Also yes.

[kittydoremi]

Spoke about this in an earlier post so I'll elaborate a bit; I'm not a fan of how it's noticable that IDW tends to often undermine another character to prop Amy up. Most of the time, it's Knuckles. But Silver has also fallen into this.

With Knuckles you have the characters often smuggly saying how much better of a leader Amy in than he was, and reminding people "Oh remember how he abandoned the resistance on a whim? He put so much stress on Amy! He was so bad as a leader wasn't he? Thankfully Amy stepped in, she's so much more organized amiright?"

It also doesn't help that abandoning the resistance on a whim isn't something Knuckles would do and just puts him in a bad light. Also that being a tactical leader isn't in character for Amy, she's more of a motivator. I'll probably go into how Knuckles is written in general in this comic in another post, because his writing here doesn't do any favors, often painting him as selfish and only helping when it personally benefits himself.

What also doesn't help is you have Knuckles constantly being shafted on adventures in favor of her. Instead of excluding him, why not have both Knuckles and Amy? I don't want either excluded.

Why is he getting the short end of the stick? He's always been a part of Team Sonic. It's especially more apparent in the recent riders arc.

Why isn't Knuckles here? He would and should be here.

And don't say "uh the master emerald-" that's never been a problem for Knuckles before. He's shows up for competitions because he enjoys them and likes hanging out with Sonic and Tails. Plus, Frontiers even said he wants to leave Angel Island more (if you want to use the Master Emerald argument) so it makes even less sense.

Plus, it shows you can have more than 3 members on a team. Mimic is there with the Diamond Cutters. If Amy can be here, so can Knuckles.

And as for Silver, this moment in particular irked me.

Ignoring how Amy has NEVER been this strong and it's not explained how or why she has strength at this level, this was building up a good teamwork moment between her and Silver. You could've said "Oh Silver aided her, that's why she accomplished this" and both characters would get praise.

But then the next panel ruins it.

The comic decides it to make it an Amy only accomplishment, leaving Silver in the dust. He gets no acknowledgment for the feat, and it's just making it out as Amy having super human strength near the level of Knuckles, which has never been true. It's a change that happened out of nowhere.

This is a trend I'm noticing that I'm not a fan of. I'm glad to see Amy is getting more love, but sometimes the way the comic goes about it isn't the best.

This isn't just me "looking too into things," or "being mad Amy is getting positive attention," It's something that's reoccuring in the comic. Amy could be written being awesome in a better way that doesn't involve another character being noticably undermined or excluded.

[yanderecrazysie]

Hello there, I just read that you do ouran high school host club yandere request. I just love that anime it reminds me of my childhood. And I love your work too especially the angsty cheater ones, they’re my favorites.

So actually going to the request: Yandere Tamaki x fiancé reader but Tamaki is neglectful of them and cheats on them with Haru (angst heaven). Basically Tamaki and Reader where engaged when they were children by their wealthy parents . Tamaki hated this and by extension he hated the reader too. Despite the reader trying to be to be the perfect fiancé and supports him from the sidelines, the reader even make sure that the mansion runs smoothly and even learned how to cook his favorite food and cater to his whims. Tamaki still being blinded by his distaste for the arrange marriage carelessly ignores all of reader’s hardwork and flirts with every woman in the host club. Then comes Haru and Tamaki just falls in love and in the back of his head, what better way to get back at his father than to marry a commoner. Reader finally having enough of Tamaki’s cheating and intentionally humiliating them in public, rebels against their parents and cancel the engagement. The reader just leaves Tamaki behind and goes into the countryside to live a peaceful life.. but surprised Tamaki goes full on delusional Yandere, he misses the reader’s devotion to him and wants to continue on with the marriage. When reader left Tamaki felt empty and he started to realize his mistake, He tracks reader down to beg for their forgiveness and so that they can get married as intended. Tamaki still think of you as his fiancé and he doesn’t realize that reader doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

Sorry for the long request, I just got excited when I found out that you write for Ouran High school host club. Thanks for reading!

My first OHSHC request!! Yay!! And it's okay, it’s always nice to have a good plot to work with!

Title: Blind

Pairings: Tamaki Suoh x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes

Summary: Tamaki’s behavior proves too much for his fiance.

Part 2: here

blind

/verb/

deprive (someone) of understanding, judgment, or perception:

Sometimes, you wished Tamaki would just open up his eyes and see you. You, and not the engagement your families had forced upon you both.

You could tell from day one that Tamaki hated the idea and, subsequently, hated you for representing the ball and chain that attached itself to his ankle. You couldn’t blame him for being angry that his future freedom had been taken away, but you wished he wouldn’t blame you for it.

You weren’t much happier than him at first, but you decided to make the best of it. Tamaki was handsome, you could even appreciate that when you both were children forced to play together. He also had a soft side that you rarely got to see under all the silly dramatics. If only you could unlock that part of him, surely you both could be happy!

Then the host club started.

It’s easy to smile and say that you aren’t bothered, but it’s another thing to actually not be bothered with your fiance flirting with girls all the time. You could never help the twisting of jealousy in your gut anytime you heard or saw anything to do with the host club.

You’d tried to visit before. Make the best of things. But he’d blacklisted you as a customer, said with a careless tone that maybe you’d prefer one of the other boys. That stung.

“Make the best of it” became a mantra in your head, a desperate goal and coping method all in one. Eventually, Tamaki would either come to love you or accept that his future was predetermined by a piece of paper with his father’s signature. 

Did you want a potentially loveless marriage? No, of course not. But that’s what happened to most people of your stature, so it wasn’t a surprise. If you could just make the best of your situation, you could be happy. Probably.

The changes in Tamaki really started when a new boy joined the club. You could tell right away that he was naturally a girl, but wouldn’t out him to the school if that’s what he chose as his path. You began to suspect that Tamaki knew this truth as well, because he always seemed so flustered around the boy.

Haruhi. You numbly repeated his name in your head. Even in the beginning, you knew, this relationship would be the downfall of your own.

Numbness overtook you as you caught the pair kissing and holding hands, looking happy and carefree, even outside of the club where there were no requirements for them to act like a cute couple or something.

They were trying to be secretive and, at first, you wondered how you were the only one catching them in the act. Then, it hit you like a speeding train.

Tamaki wanted you to see.

Your daily trips to the mansion were mostly in lonely silence. You cleaned the place like his maids probably should, made him his favorite meals, ran hot baths for him, and sometimes left him notes around the house to boost his self-esteem and cheer him up.

As time went on, it began to feel like empty actions. Duties without reward or even so much as acknowledgment. Things you did just because that tiny voice still cried “Make the best of everything!”

Well, you were getting sick of that voice. That hapless fool inside your head that didn’t seem to realize that things were speeding out of control. How could you make the best of anything, when he continually gave you nothing to work with.

You cried as you did those little things- what had once felt like happy little jobs became heavy chores that you couldn’t figure out why you continued. The tears blurred your eyes as you made each gift for Tamaki- gifts that would no doubt be cast aside and forgotten.

What was the point?

When Tamaki called a crowd together in the school’s entrance hall, standing atop one of the highest steps with his hands intertwined with Haruhi, you knew it was all over.

“Haruhi is actually a girl- and she and I have started dating!” His eyes seemed to dart to yours to gauge your reaction, but you didn’t dare show anything on your face. You were still a regal person, determined to not put your family’s name to shame.

“What? Is that true, Haruhi?” One of the girls in the crowd shrieked.

You didn’t need Haruhi’s answer nor the shy smile on her face to confirm the truth. You’d already known well before that this was the future you’d been helplessly barreling towards.

The crowd had mixed reactions. Some people were supportive and found the couple cute, others were jealous of Haruhi, and many people were confused on the whole matter. Those were the ones whose words shot like daggers into your heart.

“Doesn’t Tamaki have a fiance?”

“What will his father think?”

“Does that mean his engagement is canceled?”

Struggling not to break down, you pushed your way through the crowd, looking for an escape. The crowd was too thick and it was quickly too late.

You broke down crying, your large tears blinding you as little hiccups left your lips. Finally, the sea of people parted and you ran through it. You risked one look at Tamaki and were upset to see him looking concerned. How dare he be concerned when he was the one that hurt you?

You skipped your classes, opting instead to head straight home and confront your parents. The moment you were in front of them both, you broke down once more. They wanted to know who’d hurt you right away and, when your story of Tamaki was revealed, they vowed to rip the contract into little pieces.

They let you stay home the next few days. If you could, you’d stay home forever. How could you show your face after you’d been humiliated and cried like that in front of everyone?

You focused your thoughts and feelings into gardening. Today you cut the stems of flowers and placing them into your basket before bringing them up to the house. The chores you did were fit for the family’s gardener, but he was on vacation and you needed something to distract yourself with.

You heard your name called. Furrowing your brow, you raised your head and shielded your eyes against the sun. Was that…?

It was, a certain blonde boy was speeding towards you at the speed of light. Had he jumped the tall fence or broken the gate’s lock? Either method was concerning, to say the least.

You let out a feeble “hey!” when he kicked up some of the flowers in his path to you, but you were more afraid of what he had to say than of losing a couple of flowers.

Finally, he stopped in front of you and dropped to his knees. You stood, watching in shock as he kneeled in the dirt, in a motion that you’d expect a man begging the queen to spare his life.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/n). I- I was so stupid, so blind! I didn’t know how much I’d miss you when you were gone. Please come back, please! I’ll do anything!”

You stared at him in shock, “What about Haruhi?”

The man raised his head, his eyes glazed over as they met yours, “I took care of her.”

It wasn’t so much the words he said, as it was the chilling, lifeless tone in which he said it. You took a step back, nearly tripping over the small mound of dirt behind you.

“What did you do to her?” Your voice came out shaky and unsure. Tamaki would never hurt someone, would he? That thought was laughable, wasn’t it?

Tamaki grasped your ankles and began to cry, looking more pathetic than you could have ever imagined him. You never thought that Tamaki would ever beg on his knees to anyone, much less you.

“I’ll do anything.” Tamaki murmured. Somehow you knew.

He would definitely hurt someone, if they got in his way.

[shuttershocky]

That previous TM post reminded me of something.

What really tells me the Koei Tecmo writers did their homework with Type-Moon is how Fate/Samurai Remnant slightly changes the TM theme of decay to portray that Iori has something wrong with him.

A common trope that Nasu likes to weave into his stories is how the people living today are living in the past's skeletons. Unlike a lot of media that tends to portray the past as some grandiose and magical time that met an untimely end from disaster, the past wasn't always great, it was just... Large.

A theme of slow decay permeates a lot of Nasu's works. Once, the Nanaya, the Ryougi, the Asakami, and the Fujou were fearsome, powerful clans of oni hunters, but over time they all fell to ruin slowly, with only the Nanaya really having a singular incident that can be pointed to for their fall. The Tohno were (and still are) an incredibly wealthy and influential family of oni in the guise of businessmen, but one cruel act out of line after another, and there's just an enormous, empty mansion containing a single Tohno, the family dead or scattered. Mahoyo's longest chapter takes place in a lavish, abandoned amusement park, filled with everything from a multistory house of mirrors to a giant rollercoaster where everything still works, but couldn't survive more than a few years, a foolish waste of a fortune. Kara No Kyoukai is about a rich girl that grows increasingly distant from her wealthy noble family until she leaves them to live in a completely empty apartment instead, the flashbacks to the Ryougi family showing no warmth or nostalgia despite the luxury.

Even Fate, the series all about digging up ghosts of the past and showing you how kickass these guys are, always goes into how heroic spirits are often filled with regret, having led bloody and tragic lives that caused them so much pain and yet meant that they would be remembered forever—literally removing them from the cycle of death and reincarnation to be put into another one where they are reborn and killed on a mage's whims.

The past was grand, wealthy, larger than life, and it rotted from the inside out and failed the people living today, who have to build new, simpler lives from the pieces, but might be happier that way.

FSR does something similar, though with an important difference. Just like in other TM works the past in FSR is larger than life, being the Sengoku period and the Shimabara rebellion, with both the incredibly cool sword saints and horrific massacres, but the people living today (1651) could not be happier about living in a peaceful, much more insignificant time and have no interest in what they left behind whatsoever. They're not living in the decaying remains of the past, they've rebuilt on top of it completely. You would have to be insane to look back even out of curiosity, because that would be staring into unimaginable bloodshed.

Nowhere is this better illustrated than Nasu himself talking about how the name "Miyamoto Musashi" is seen today, compared to in 1651 after Musashi had just died.

A sword-saint now, a legend, and at 60 duels with 60 wins probably the most skilled duelist to have ever lived, but for his contemporaries, he was a terrifying man that killed dozens to prove his martial skill. Nobody in Miyamoto Iori's time remembers him for being Musashi's son the way we do.

But Iori, Iori looks back. The first hint was that servants always have some connection to the master, and there's seemingly nothing in common with the king and god-slayer Saber and the humble Iori. The next was Saber's reaction seeing Iori's seemingly fearless behavior towards an enemy that could kill him in one blow (something you don't even need New Game+ to see btw, I haven't played NG+ myself lol), it was recognition.

There's a reason why Iori's main rival is Chiemon, a character whose only defining trait is being unable to let go of the bloodshed he experienced in the Shimabara Rebellion.

In FSR more than in any other Type-Moon title, the past is buried deep to the point where it can barely be seen, and yet inside Iori is the desire to dig it up. Study it. Surpass it. Find his father resurrected in his prime and kill him (her) again, to prove he would have been an even more terrifying monster than she ever was, had he been born just a little earlier.

There's something wrong with him.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

contributing to the curse (ask number) and your request for anything persona x reader (whims)

any game goes, but how about the characters with a reader that doesn't seem to mash with the rest of group too well? i'm talking someone who is quiet, the complete opposite of a team player, doesn't get the inside jokes, and doesn't hang out much with the others outside of persona ass-kicking pursuits...

this errs on the platonic side of things :3c just for fun

I had fun putting this together, though I feel it is a tad sloppy in the middle section but I am pretty sure that's just me.

Now! Your Wish Is My Command!

Ren drank his can of soda through a silly straw as he watched you, the hat he received from The Boss for his birthday which matched Sojiro’s own save for Ren’s being black with a red band as opposed to white with a black band sitting snugly upon his head.

Ren had to go through hell to get you out here, he was going to make sure you didn’t slip away when no one was looking.

The sound of billiards cracking against one another rang out.

“ARRRRGH!!! C’mon man!Cut me some slack here!” Ryuji cried as Akechi laughed.

“Hmph, and why should I do that? You’re the one who carries around a blunt instrument all the time, perhaps you should learn a bit of delicacy!” Akechi said as he moved to the sidelines and next to Yusuke who seemed to be pondering something.

“Crow, tell me, have you noticed?” Yusuke asked vaguely.

“I have, our dear Joker has been glaring at them for quite a while. Then again, it quite is rare for them to come out for a “Team Bonding” exercise.” Akechi stated as he briefly turned his gaze onto you from the corner of his eyes.

“I… was talking about the scene we are currently in being perfect to paint…” Yusuke meekly muttered, causing Akechi to sigh.

Was Joker the only one with a brain cell in this group?

He was promptly reminded that his favorite and most powerful Persona was a Jack Frost that can nuke anything and anyone. He chose Jack Frost purely because it was cute.

Joker most definitely did not own any brain cells.

“I am well and truly surrounded by idiots…” Akechi hissed to himself.

How could Joker believe such sacrilege?

Jack-O-Lantern was clearly the cutest.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Haru kept her eyes on you as the Mona-Mobile rattled down the halls of Mementos.

This was the first time she had ever been sent out with you on the same team.

It was proving to be… enlightening.

Especially with your Persona, Robin Goodfellow.

Trickery, illusions, and misdirection to position an enemy in the perfect spot to ensure defeat.

That is what your Persona specializes in.

And when Haru took your weapon into account… It made her think of the tricksters in the old stories she used to read as a child.

A wiley trickster causing mischief and chaos as they pleased to both friend and foe alike.

And to a certain point, that fit.

Except… you were always a bit off to the side.

Watching everything, working with the others for only as long as was needed.

The jokes the thieves made were lost on you and the moment they were done with Mementos or a Palace you were gone on the wind.

Now that she thought about it, that is probably why you were only able to do a Showtime with Joker who seemed to be the only one you listened to.

And it was certainly a mindblowing sight.

A “Midsummer Night's Dream” if she had ever seen one.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“It's Showtime!” Joker shouted with a grin as you walked forward, spear in hand.

“Do you Shadows dream?” you asked as you reached for the mask on your face.

Joker rushed past you, knife in hand and carved through the enemies before them.

You tore the mask from your face and your Persona appeared behind you with a manic laugh and an impish grin upon its face.

“I know that I do.” you declared evenly as you stabbed the tip of your weapon into the ground and the world changed.

A forest at night in the dead of summer with a hundred fireflies flying through the sky and a clearing filled with flowers stunning the thieves and the shadows.

“Unfortunately, dreams are but illusions without the will to make them real.” You stated as you appeared behind the shadows, speartip stained with their black Ichor.

Then, as quickly as it came the illusion shattered and an explosion rained down from above, courtesy of Joker.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Haru continued to be vexed by you.

She was not alone in that if the way the others talked about you was any indication.

“So then Joker, is ya pal gonna be joining us tonight?”

“I am desperate to paint their Persona, its whimsical beauty has truly enraptured me!”

“I got these sweets earlier today! I want to share them with everyone! Wait! They’re not here!? You better not eat their share, Ryuji!”

“C’mon! We can’t have a party discussion about what we’ll do in the next Dungeon if we’re missing our Illusion caster!”

“Joker, shouldn’t we try to get them to show up to at least a few of these to ensure everything runs smoothly?”

“If they bring me pancake mix again I am going to break their fingers.”

Haru was happy to see that everyone was treating you as part of the team despite how distant you were.

But… she just hoped you knew they had your back if they needed it.

They all knew what it felt like to be the odd one out as well as anyone could ever hope to know it.

They were outcasts, misfits, social pariahs, delinquents, and weirdos.

They were the Phantom Thieves Of Hearts, and you were one of them.

[inchidentally]

[source1 source2]

I know it's been analyzed to death but g o d the way this entire race was almost ruined for both of them and They!! are what brought it back at least somewhat...

bc these were the most crucial moments immediately after the race. before this, Lando came up alongside Oscar during the lap to wave and then he ran over to pat Oscar while still in the car, all of which would have more than sufficed to me. in the same way that I never expected Oscar to feel up to it after a bad result for him and a podium for Lando, I've always loved that he and Lando will always swallow down the disappointment for the moment and give each other something.

but they always do more than I expect !! and once out of the car and weighed, Oscar goes right over to Lando in an exchange that is clearly a follow on from Oscar apologizing for his pace in those final laps over the radio right before. there's that grateful, bashful little head tilt that Oscar does to Lando and Lando smiles and keeps on smiling as he watches Oscar walk away.

and then ! Oscar drifts back over to Lando's spot and just sort of hovers. his "celebration" so far has been limited to standing on the car but after that it feels similar if even less jubilant than his Monaco podium. he scrubs his face and looks for all the world as if it wasn't his first GP win. Lando had been staring off into the distance but he sees Oscar, rubs his own mouth and gives Oscar a smile that Oscar immediately returns on instinct.

and like !! the reaching across that distance of their race results !! Lando knowing he's in the elder, more experienced role and that as he said himself repeatedly in his interviews: he knows all that Oscar has done for him. that many a time, he has needed Oscar. that Oscar has on and off the track accepted Lando's seniority and been the one to step back. but Oscar as a driver is exactly the same as every other driver! he dedicated his entire life to this sport in order to win! a lot of fans revealed themselves to think that Oscar was meant to stay in that secondary role forever, but Lando never did! and no one knows better than Lando what serendipity can feel like when certain fans decide to classify it as being "gifted" a win or a podium. for all that Oscar has only had to wait one season for the McLaren to be a rocket ship, he also isn't established in the sport the way Lando is. again, to quote Lando, you never know what's coming in F1 and you never ever waste an opportunity because when there's only 20 spots, you cannot assume in your second season that you've got plenty of other seasons left.

but then off the track Oscar will suddenly deviate completely from most F1 drivers. he'll always do this: drift into Lando's circle and hover and remain quiet while trying to read how Lando is feeling. and that's when Lando sees Oscar's complete lack of gloating or even celebrating - that Oscar doesn't hug and he's not tactile but when he needs something he Stays Near like a domesticated cat that doesn't know why their human smells like sadness but wants to help. that he needs to see what Lando really thinks and feels about this because Lando is the established one and someone Oscar's (very) intensely admired since karting and who Oscar follows around with his eyes and sometimes bodily follows him even when Lando is talking to someone else.

and then Lando gives him that smile and that proud, reassuring squeeze of his arm and shoulder - ducks his head to show that he knows it's all absurd and he'll be okay… that he "doesn't want this to overshadow Oscar's win". and poor little non-tactile Oscar leans into the touch and lets out a breath and really lets himself smile.

^^^and it reminded me so much of Lando reaching out to Oscar at the start of the Silverstone podium. because Lando was utterly down and out but it was Oscar - who didn't even get a podium - who was smiling and hovering close and not taking his eyes off Lando and giving in to any of Lando's whims and "wanting to cheer us up".

bc Lando is so used to the men in his life affectionately invading his space without a second thought and speaking in big, loud almost comical declarations - that it took a while for him to realize that Oscar's affection is seen in his eyes and in the quiet, strong way he stays so near Lando that at times he's watching him even when Lando is off talking to someone else. so in the aftermath of Hungary, Lando sees his boy hovering and looking awkward and uncertain and reaches out to him with his own brand of affection.

and tbh everything after this was Oscar knowing he could let that quiet, intense happiness really soak in over his first win and that Lando would put in a herculean effort to manage the PR mess spilled all over his own race - because they'd already shown with that touch and the hovering and the smiles that they'd never held anything like the toxic codependency and competitiveness of the two men framed between them. that their individual DNA and the DNA of their relationship had nothing in common with what Nico and Lewis had and whatever it is they continue to have. that other teammates have broken and taken weeks to repair under the kind of strain handed to Lando and Oscar in Hungary.

because they'd shower, change, head to the airport, eat fast food and play Monopoly on the plane together and then as always, set off on their own ideas of RnR (Lando partying and dancing, Oscar having a daytime sleep with Lily). the internet raged and debated and made doom-laden predictions… when all the while the two directly affected and on whom the majority of the drama and stan hate would center, had already touched base on parc ferme and gone 'yeah, we're okay' and gave each other smiles every time their eyes met <3

[ackerfics]

my love is mine all mine ch 3 | toji fushiguro x female reader

part one of to the girls who are failed by the narrative series.

series summary:

'the glorified womb', 'the heir bearer', 'the blessed flower of the jujutsu society' — they are just some of the titles given to the women of your mother's clan, and all of them eventually fell to you, the prodigal firstborn who has the misfortune of birthing someone who will be stronger than their predecessors. with the fate of someone's clan on your shoulders, there are only a handful of things told to you while growing up; be as demure as you can be, never open your mouth and squash your thoughts, sit with a posture befitting that of a lady wearing an invisible yet heavy diadem. but the one that rings the most goes like this: your only purpose in this world is to be a silent wife to a man who will give you the opportunity to carry the next generation of powerful sorcerers. you remember all of these as you walk toward zen'in ogi in your uchikake, the constricting material around your waist akin to the gripping hold of your cursed technique.

and in fate's funny little ways of fabricating legacies and stories, you forget them when you are spirited away by the man who always welcomes the coming of the seasons with you without fail.

chapter title: the answer will be an echo: why did you do this?

warnings: the zen'in clan.

Your sister inherited the Joushou clan’s cursed technique.

It’s an announcement that has any member of your family reeling. What a waste, they say. This could have been phenomenal if not for the sex of the child. What good would a woman have if they assume the position of heir to a powerful clan that owns shrines of purification for generations? And with the head’s reluctance in re-marrying another pitiful woman, there is no chance that a son will be celebrated, which brings you at this moment—holding your little sister who was given the role of the heir a few months ago. It’s something that you have to accept for you have no ability to create a field of reversed cursed technique that can nullify any nearby techniques.

Four years have gone and your sister celebrated four birthdays with only you and a couple of loyal maids by her side. Your father, being the head of the clan, has growing paperwork and responsibilities on top of his desk with the passing years. Now older, your father has been scrambling with marriage proposals from other clans, all vying to have you in their hold — their riches on his table.

A wife. Pliant, obedient, meek, poised, virtuous; are some of the traits expected of you. They are drilled in your head every time you have lessons with your current tutor, a lady from one of the Joushou branch households, one Lady Yukina. Despite the harshness of the lessons she brings, she might be the only old lady who has never looked at you with disdain. Her gaze fills with understanding and sometimes sympathy when she reminds you that you have to be a woman fit for the jujutsu society.

You have long since understood that even with a title to your name, you are not safe from the whims of men. You remain as a piece in their games, meant to be broken when Time and Fate are not merciful to your soul. You know it—after all, your mother has lived long enough to tell the tale.

The Hanamo clan has always stood as the harbinger of a new generation of sorcerers, as the historians so love to write about in their scriptures.��

The ancestry flowing in your veins is proof that you will always be tied to the workings of the jujutsu world, that you will be a slave to the norms delegated by the higher-ups who uphold the traditions of time immemorial. It continues to resemble the essence of your existence. Without it, you are nothing but a husk—tossed aside for lacking purpose. To put it bluntly, you don’t want to be a wife if it means having a life lived by your mother. You are older now and aside from gaining marriage proposals, you have gained this awareness that not even your father can prevent. You wish to enjoy what they call middle school. At your age, you can’t help but think that maybe you could have been a senior. You want to join clubs, stay at school after classes, or go to cram school because you want to enter a prestigious high school. You long to experience staying up late and getting confession letters in lockers—feel the giddiness stolen glances in a room brings.

However, since Fate is not kind to girls like you, you are stuck here letting the wind carry your thoughts.

“Onee-chan!” 

“Hmm?”

You are drawn to reality at the sound of your precious little sister’s voice.

“What is it, Tiny?”

She giggles, teeth showing and eyes crinkling in happiness at the syllables of her nickname from you. The little girl of four bounds over to the picnic blanket that you are sitting on, the constricting material of the kimono around her figure preventing her from running too wildly. You carefully watch her, your arms stretching out and torso leaning forward when she nearly topples to the ground. The sigh of relief your chest has been holding is let out when she is secure in your arms, which is then followed by a small huff since she has been getting bigger. The little girl in your embrace places her chin on your chest, her pudgy cheeks pressing against you. “Onee-chan’s sadness, go away. I don’t want Onee-chan to be sad.”

You hum, your smile mirroring hers. “Why would I be sad when I have the cutest, most special girl in my arms?”

She squeals when your fingers start tickling her sides.

“Onee-chan, no!” Her voice is being carried by the wind, gleefully intermingling with the melody of the breeze. “Stop it!”

Laughter continues to bubble in your throat. A huge surge of warmth prompts you to lean down to press your forehead against your sister’s. “Why would I be sad when I get to see the most precious thing smile and laugh?” You nuzzle your nose on her hair. She always smells of something citrus and sweet, a combination fitting for the reason behind your smiles. “Tiny, your existence is enough to drive the sadness away. Nothing can make me shed tears if you’re here by my side.”

“Did Mama feel like that about me?” The slightest falter in your demeanour is unnoticed by your sister. “Ah! I didn’t mean to make Onee-chan sad again.”

“What?” You breathe out. You try painting a smile on your lips. “I’m not sad.”

“You are!” She retorts with an adorable scrunch on her nose. “The flowers never lie, Onee-chan! They always lose their colour when you’re sad.” You don’t even have to ask how your sister knows about your connection with the flowers in the garden because she continues explaining in a tone that is awfully similar to Father when he was still instilling the ways of the clans in you when you were a child. “Aida-san told me that Mama’s family speaks to flowers. I know Onee-chan can speak to them, too, and just like me, they feel sad when Onee-chan is sad.”

“I do have a smart girl for a baby sister,” you muse, running your hand through her hair. “Yes, Mama could speak with any kind of plant you can think of and I know that your existence is something she asked for; she prayed every night for you to be here. You are her precious little dewdrop—I know it because the flowers told me so. Mama talked to them while she was carrying you in her tummy, you see.”

“Was she happy when she had me?”

The smile on your face never dims. “ Super happy,” you make sure to emphasise the first word.

“Were you happy?”

“The happiest big sister in the world.”

“I’m happy you’re my big sister, too!”

Your bottom lip wobbles, quickly hiding it by burying the toddler back into your arms. “You’re so cute, Tiny! Ah,” you sigh out, “I don’t ever want you to grow up; I want you to stay this little forever.” Your tiny dewdrop that you can carry in your arms forever, a place where she truly belongs and will remain untainted by the world revolving around you two.

“But I want to grow up!”

This surprises you. “Why, Tiny?”

She beams, “Because I get to be with you more! You’re always away with Papa and I’m all alone. If I’m grown up, I will be by your side more often.”

You give her a rueful smile. Your hand perfectly cups the side of her head as if both are puzzle pieces fitted with each other. “I can’t wait to see you in the future; but for now, I’ll cherish you like this. Because you want to know a little secret?” The smile on your face grows at the sparkles lighting up your baby sister’s eyes. They seem to gleam like jewels within a pool of moonlight. The hand cupping her face transfers to cover her ear, your voice dropping into a whisper purely for the two of you to hear—not even the flowers can be a witness to your little secret. “Nothing in this world truly belongs to me except my love for you, owner of my heart and my tiny dewdrop. You are the one gift Mother gave to me and I don’t know what I’d do if you slip from my fingers too soon. Let me love you as my baby sister and let Time pass by the way it always does. Alright?”

A sheen then covers your sister’s eyes as she stares at you in pure, adulterated emotions that a four-year-old like her can muster.

“I love you so much, Tiny—always remember that, okay?”

She meekly nods, your words flustering her cheeks in a faint surge of heat. “I love you, too, Onee-chan.”

It’s you two against the entire world. Despite how the circumstances bring you your sister, you will never love her any less. You may have familial burdens to carry on your poised shoulders, they don’t include the most precious treasure to you at the moment. 

The moment is shattered when the flowers slightly express their disappointment before you can sense the pattern of footsteps behind you.

“Ojou-sama, Lord Yoshiki is summoning you to his office,” Aida, a maid that you have grown quite fond of through the years, tells you, her head low like the head maid has taught her during her initiation—always show reverence to the members of the main family; they are your benefactor, your salvation, your puppeteers.

“Did he say why, Aida-san?” You pry from her, your arms still around the girl nestling on your lap.

The woman shakes her head. “No, Ojou-sama. But if it helps ease your mind, he is not in a troubled mood.” A knowing glint sparks her eyes as she trails them on the swaying vermillion blades dancing by her feet. 

“Very well,” is all you offer to her as a response. You turn to your baby sister, who is already pouting at the thought of spending the rest of her afternoon in solitude. “Tiny, I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” She is looking at you like she’s begging for you not to leave her alone and that alone nearly shatters your resolve. As the only child aware of the workings of the clan, you must attend to Father’s summons. Your sister will have this role in the future but for now, even with no shed of the Joushou’s cursed technique in your veins, you should do your duty. So, you carefully lift her from your lap before settling her feet on the grass. “I promise we’ll eat your favourites later.”

“And watch Sanrio?”

The smile on your face grows. Ah, your obsession with that cartoon and its characters; it’s purely the reason why your sister adores the white long-eared puppy as well. You, yourself have developed a liking toward the hooded bunny and the golden retriever characters. “And watch Sanrio,” you echo after her. 

“Yay!” She cheers, her hands high in the air and her smile bright enough to illuminate an abyss.

You let go of her small hands before turning around to face the maid sent to escort you to where Father is. “Take me to him, Aida.”

“As you wish, Ojou-sama.”

The walk is silent—you can even hear the grating of the wood against a sudden gust of wind, bringing the scent of cherry blossoms in the air.

Ah, it's spring without your mother again. 

You remember watching her work wonders in the gardens during this lucky season of the year. The pinks the entire world is waiting to sprout are sitting on top of Mother’s palms, the small spark of her cursed technique speaking with the roots and the trunks until all you can see are raining petals of cherry and plum blossoms. You never once looked forward to spring again after her passing. But there is an undeniable clench in your chest when you think about your baby sister never sharing the same enthusiasm about that season; she doesn’t get to press her face on the glass windows at her age every time spring knocks on your household’s door.

The scent of the flowers die down when the shoji doors to Father’s office slide open.

“You called for me, Father?”

The image of your father has long since dwindled. He was never the same again since the death of Mother. The elders have always expressed their bafflement at him refusing another proposal to be remarried. The clan needs male heirs, they say, one that can withstand even the next strongest sorcerer to be born. His previous impeccable appearance is replaced by a rugged man with the constant presence of stubbles and hastily tied hair. There are no elaborate kimonos; instead, he is often dressed in rather simple hakamas, but that doesn’t betray his station. He is still the head of the Joushou clan, the only clan to have ever survived the Domain Expansion of the recorded strongest sorcerer across centuries. 

Father doesn’t look up from his paperwork. “You are dismissed,” he directs the words to the maid who escorted you.

You flash Aida an imperceptible smile right after she bows her head as lowly as she can without toppling over. Her footsteps are silent and she leaves behind you and the man who will decide your fate.

“Who is it this time?” You still fix your eyes on the hardwood panels of the floor. 

The sigh that comes out of Father amounts to the weight he carries after reading the papers on his hand. He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he fishes out an unsealed piece of paper from a nearby stack and throws it on the table.

You walk to the edge of his desk to catch a glimpse of the sender. Something pulses inside you at the implications the letter’s seal brings. You know it’s inevitable to be tied to this family and you have long accepted it but that doesn’t prevent the trepidation clogging your throat. “The Zen’in?”

After you make it real by uttering the syllables of their name, Father pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows scrunched in an uneasy exhibition of pain. “I’m sure you remember that Zen’in Ougi’s wife died a few months before.” Your silence is an enough answer for Father to continue. The memory of attending the funeral is still fresh in your mind and there’s no mistaking the reeking disappointment coming from the clan elders of the Zen’in. Another wife gone; another chance for a holder of the Ten Shadows lost. “They want you as his second wife.” His fists clench on top of the papers.

You’re quiet for a moment. “Can I read it, Father?”

Father waves his hand.

The sound of crinkling paper fills the room. You flip the folded flaps of the letter. The tidy calligraphy starts by addressing your father. Your eyes skim over saccharine words crafted to impress him.

The letter opens with the head of the Zen’in clan iterating that this is the perfect opportunity for the Joushou clan to enter the inner circles of the jujutsu society.

It goes on by saying that if the Gojos never had that pesky godling born in the same year as your little sister, your clan would have made it within the triad of jujutsu families, even rivalling the authority established by the Kamos. Pity that the Gojo clan beat your family by a hairbreadth and pity that the inheritor of the Purification Technique is of the lowly sex. You take a glance at Father, knowing that this section of the letter is the reason behind the tick in his jaw. You continue on reading how the children from this union would be the leaders of the next generation of jujutsu. With the Glorified Womb and a carrier of the Ten Shadows Technique, it is bound to be fruitful—the most awaited heir of the Zen’in clan won’t just be a figment of someone’s imagination.

We hope this is met with utmost consideration. After all, this is the pinnacle we are both waiting for. Wed your bloomed flower to my youngest son and all will be well—you will be compensated handsomely. Everything you could think of, we will provide as long as they belong to our capabilities. Do not make the wrong decision, Joushou. The fate of your clan rests on your word. 

“This is not in my position to ask but,” you start, lifting your head from trailing your eyes over every well-crafted, harsh word the Zen’in sent, “Father, tell me you’re not going to consider this?” He doesn’t offer a response. He simply stares at a spot on his desk, his hands woven over his mouth. You hear your heartbeat in your ears as you place the letter on the furniture separating you from him. “Father.” The man goes on to blankly stare at you. At the silence, your voice gains volume. “He’s the same age as Uncle Hatsugu!” He stands up from his seat, lifting his chin in the air while you feel tears peeking through your bottom eyelids. At the stony facade he dons, you slowly shake your head. “Father, no. No, no, no!”

Father merely blinks. The previous tension weighing on his shoulders vanishes and in front you is the man who thought it was best to force your mother to bear the son he wanted. “[Name].”

“Please tell me you haven’t—”

“It’s the Zen’in.”

“But that doesn’t mean—!”

“You will have four years.”

Standing in this room with him becomes suffocating with each passing second. Marrying young has always been the culture in your hidden world. Women are a commodity. You hope that because Father was kind enough to tell you of each suitor sending their letters, he will also be kind enough to reject them until you have fully lived your life. “Please,” one word is all you can say. And if that isn’t enough for Father, you try to convince him with your eyes. Yet the more you look at him, all ready to kneel and plead to give back your girlhood, you gradually understand that you have no choice. Father looks like he’s seen a ghost within you. The shock morphs into rage, then, later calms into a quiet nothing that rings so loud your tears cascade on your cheeks. “I-I don’t want this, Father. The Zen’ins—”

“Are a respectful family that is worth leagues more than ours,” he finishes. “They stand as what orthodox should be in our world. This,” he taps his forefinger on the letter, “is just the beginning, [Name]. We are nearing the pinnacle of jujutsu in this generation and it starts with your marriage to this man.” You open your mouth to retaliate. He cuts you off from speaking with a hand. “You are someone born in my family. Do your duty just like any other woman before you.”

“Just listen to me—”

“Am I clear, [Name]?” Father fixes a wide-eyed glare at you. “You didn’t inherit your mother’s viability for heirmaking for nothing. This is your purpose. Whatever fantasies you have running in that head of yours, cease it. Do you understand?” 

You don’t answer him.

“[Name].”

Flinching at the way he says your name, you look down at your feet.

“Do not make me angry; we both know that it won’t end in your favour.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “I understand, Father.”

“Good.” Then, he waves you away. “Go. I have a letter to reply to.”

You don’t know where your feet take you. After the shoji doors slide shut behind you, you are floating. You see and hear nothing. When you lift your head from mindlessly tracing the ground you walk on, you are outside in the gardens, the little girl you left behind earlier still in the same place. She turns around at the sound of your footsteps but you don’t give her a chance to call you because you pull her into your arms. You can feel her pressing her cheeks against yours and it hurts. You bury your face in her hair, your embrace fully encompassing her from the world. The air smells of hellebore and amidst the lake of white and purple, a clump of begonia stands as a beacon.

Toji spits out blood on the blades of grass surrounding the Zen’in estate. Imposing eyes follow him from the visible hallways of the traditional Japanese household. He can already assume what they are whispering about— the black sheep of the family is at it again, disappearing in random hours of the day and coming back all bloody like he wants to taint our sacred home . Toji clicks his tongue at the thought and by doing so, irritating his split gums, which irritates him even more. He couldn’t care less. Let them talk, let them paint him into their version of a devil, let them say that he’s the curse of the family; to Hell with all of them.

He keeps on walking until he reaches the nearest entrance to his father’s wing, where his side of the family resides. The maids scurry away from his path and the only sound accompanying him to his destination is the jingle of charms dangling from his wallet. It’s jarring, how stark the various shades of pink and blue are against his dark garb. If he is one of the nosier women in the estate, he would have questioned it as well. The carved flowers make a nice melody with each step and they all sing something that’s purely her . Because that’s the reason why the hanging charms are in his pocket—they’re all for her , the precious doll of the Joushou clan and the belle of everyone’s ball, including his. Even as he let himself loose by facing a dozen curses in an abandoned hospital, he still managed to think of something so soft, a feat in itself that he never thought possible for someone like him.

It’s a miracle that nothing intercepted him. Usually, during his excursions, Jinichi would make himself known and throw remarks that would have the two of them grappling for the first punch. This time around, none of the notable people in his family lurks around the corner, waiting for their moment to strike. It’s peaceful for once and Toji doesn’t know how it makes him feel.

“You.”

A maid squeaks when Toji’s gaze falls on her.

“Where are the others?”

Her chest rises and falls rapidly. She can’t fully look him in the eye.

“I’m fucking talking to you,” comes from Toji’s mouth.

With a hitched breath, the maid answers, “They’re all gathering in the Master's office.”

“The old man is dying; what are they gathering there for?”

The maid grips the edges of her cheap uniform, creating creases that would surely earn her some nagging from the matron of housekeeping. Locking eyes with him is a mistake because she starts sweating even though this part of the estate hasn’t met any heaters in the last few months. Perks of being the most favourite disappointments. Toji carefully wraps his hand around the kanzashi nestled inside his pocket, the ornaments it carries caressing his skin. This is taking too long. Then, the maid stutters, “I-I heard they received a message regarding a marriage proposal.”

“Who?”

“I-I don’t know, Sir.”

Toji lets out a mirthless laugh. “It’s bitchy Ogi, isn’t it? Should’ve known.”

The maid keeps quiet with her head down. Without addressing her any further, Toji walks past her and makes his way to the main wing of the estate. 

Despite saying that he doesn’t care for the inner workings of their clan, he can’t help but feel amusement for another failed marriage to surface. After his newest aunt’s funeral, all anticipation and hope for the clan’s future has been sucked dry. Pity that these women are sent to this wretched family, hoping to at least be treated as royalty. All they got is the constant spiel that they are far beneath their husbands even though they share a last name through marriage. Toji’s mother was one of those women. And Heaven forbid, another tombstone will be added to the clan’s guarded cemetery with this letter.

With silent footsteps, Toji leaned on the wall next to the sliding doors of his grandfather’s office with his arms crossed on his chest.

“—Can’t tell me this is fucking fair!”

His father.

“You have not proven yourself worthy for this, Ichiro.”

The wheezing gives it away.

Booming laughter erupts from behind the closed doors, followed by a guzzling of a drink. “If only your wife died before giving birth to two failures, one of which is standing with us in this room also vying for this girl’s hand in marriage. Would you look at that, you two are almost twins sneering at me like that!” Another round of cackles from his alcoholic uncle. “You would have a chance with this girl who’s even younger than your sons! Ha! Just saying that makes me want to puke—”

“Not in here, Naobito,” a warning from Grandfather.

“—the contents of my stomach.

“Like Ogi is any better.”

“Do not bring me in your squabble,” says a calm, grating voice.

“I still believe this is something you have planned to dethrone me from my chance of being the heir. Are you that threatened by my son’s manifestation of cursed energy?”

Ogi scoffs. Toji imagines him lifting his chin in the air—the arrogant bastard. “It’s not my fault you are hindered by the existence of your precious child. Or do you regret ever siring him for a chance at a young girl? I’d say you are a hypocrite, brother.”

“Say that to my face, you little piece of shit!”

“Father, why not Jinichi?” Toji’s father tries pulling the tides in their favour. “They are close in age. My son developed a technique uniquely his, a promising one that would shake the other clans if he would inherit the position of heir. Why not give him this girl as a chance to redeem our bloodline? The future user of the Ten Shadows Technique will surely emerge from their coupling.”

“It is true that our family has established a hierarchy unlike the others,” the senile man coughs out, “but I would never waste something worth more than diamonds on your dying bloodline.” Toji can hear his father raising his voice while his older uncle cackles in glee. If only he’s not carrying treasure in the depths of his pockets, he would have bled through his pants with how tight he’d be clenching his hands. “Compared to Ogi, your son’s technique is nothing. My son has gained a reputation from the higher-ups of our world, a feat your son could only dream of. What Ogi can do will only be the catalyst in a fruitful union.” There is a pause. “And there is the case of your other child. What’s to say Jinichi is tainted by his younger brother? Don’t even make me begin on how that abomination always succeeds in being the family’s blunder. I have presented the letter for her hand in marriage with Ogi in mind and no one else. Do not make me exert my power over you, Ichiro, because you are nothing but a failure to me.”

“Father, you surely know how to knock down someone,” Naobito says in mirth.

Toji is still against the wall of the old man’s office. His hands are itching on pummeling something to the ground. Fucking elders and their ridiculous degrading words—they make him want to wring their necks and feed them to the curses they keep in the basement. Toji wants nothing more than to witness the light dim and eventually flicker out from this senile man’s eyes. Heat starts travelling all the way to the tips of his ears. Hearing everything urges his body to retreat in his room and wallow in self-pity. But anger gets the best of him, always. This fucking family and their superiority will be the death of them; he is already cursing them. They would ask for Heaven for what he is doing to them in his head. Then again, Hell would probably be Heaven for them for all the grotesque things they do behind closed doors. 

“Then, it’s final. Ogi will wed Joushou [Name] the moment she turns eighteen. This is the pinnacle of jujutsu and I expect nothing but congratulations from you pitiful fools.”

That is the moment Toji realised, he would take down the pinnacle of the jujutsu world.

Notes:

in the victorian language of flowers, hellebore can mean 'we can overcome scandal and slander'. when paired with begonias in a bouquet, it brings a reminder that future challenges will arise.

taglist (send an ask or a reply if you want to be added !! )

@booblikerlhc @sugutoad @sakuralikestars @fandomfloozy @the2ndl @silent-sondering @idktbhloley @ruixrei @m0nsterzl0ve @mooniro @kenstarsworld @bealiz13 @viclentdeliqhts @elisaa-shelby @oh1boy @wonderland173

[queermediaanysis]

Izzy Hands and Mary Bonnet have so many parallels between them that it’s wild. Emotionally distant husband (Izzy is wife-coded AF so it’s fair to make this comparison with Ed) who they’ve been with for a long time. Their husbands are very unhappy with their life. They’re both having to tell their husbands to pay attention to them, do what they’re supposed to, stop being so whim-prone. Izzy is the one tending to the crew, reminding Ed about their welfare, and Ed seems too distracted to really care. Mary is the one taking care of the kids and has to ask Stede multiple times to play with them, and he seems far too distracted to care (though he does briefly). Neither Izzy nor Mary are happy either, but they’re still trying to make it work beyond what their husbands are. And eventually, Izzy and Mary’s husbands leave them for something ‘better’ unexpectedly, and in a way that’s a betrayal to Izzy and Mary. When Stede panics after Chauncey kidnaps him in s1, he goes back to Mary and tries to pick up where he left off but it’s clear he’s not wanted by Mary. When Stede doesn’t show up on the beach, Ed goes back to Izzy and tries to pick up where he left off, but it’s clear this gentle version of Ed isn’t who Izzy wants him to be. When they finally have distance between themselves and their husbands, they both find themselves and are finally happy toward their end of the time on the show. Mary has her painting and her found family of widows and Doug. Izzy does drag and sings and whittles and has his found family of the crew. They both support their former husbands’ new love at the end of their arcs.

Izzy and Mary’s husbands fell in love with each other, but only one of these characters got to be happy at the end of their very parallel arcs in a way where it felt complete to end their time on the show.

Idk. It’s something.

[sissikellicaptions]

Learning the Sissy ABC's of Diaper Domination - "G"

You had given up everything. You left your home, quit your job, and gave ownership of everything to Mommy Grace and Daddy Mick. With no control of your money, no cell phone, no drivers license in their state along with no car, and not a single item of clothing to your name, you were at their whim completely. You'd asked for this, and now you were getting it. And as promised, they were going to ensure you learned your place by teaching you the ABC's of being a Sissy Diaper Sub.

Lesson 7, Week 6, G is for Girly

Great job! Get some well deserved rest my padded princess, you've impressed Mommy and Daddy so well with how quickly you've adapted to this week's lesson. Though we'll truly measure how good you've gotten at being graceful at the end of the week.

Being a Sissy is about presentation, and acting Girly is the right way you should be expressing everything you do. So we're going to help you crash course every feminine lesson we can here.

Obviously you've already been wearing them, but outfits so hyper feminine that they would make any actual woman turn pink from embarrassment is the easiest thing to learn.

The extra pink bondage items are just reminders of submission, which isn't to suggest that actual women are submissive. No, just girly diaper using sissies match that description. And as said plump padding packing prissy you always need to submit. To true women, to all men, to everyone. You're not womanly, you're girly, and as such you submit to all.

And the true nature of being girly comes from what you'll be doing the next several days and nights. During the day you'll be putting on clinics of how your every movement is girly. You're waddle, the hip swagger, and being a slutty diaper sissy, how you show off those asset you've been growing. You should be such a good girly sissy that it's more feminine than those super frilly pink outfits.

At night though, you'll finally get to feeling like a girl. Because we'll have your manhood locked away, and you'll be getting pleased like a true slutty sissy. And as such, you'll be stuffed fuller than your day time diapers. You'll be gagging on sausages so thick they bring tears of sissy joy to your eyes. And we'll start calling you our good little caboose since you'll be having yours ridden over and over again, splattering your diapers with some sissy goo.

Yes the true fun starts now my Sexy Diapered Sissy. We've loved having your become our Girly little slut and we can't wait to see how gosh darn great you'll get at giving, grinding, and going down on your dominates. What a gooey gagging gulper you'll be, we can tell!

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Photo is not mine, credit goes to original owner. Contact me if you would like credit for it, and if you would like me to remove it from the page.

No challenges yet, though working still on getting the perfect photo. Should have chances upcoming and will be sure to get those posted asap. Hope my writing is enjoyable still.

Story is a work of fiction. All events, people, and places involve potential problematic behaviors and depict scenes for fantasy purposes only.

[vampyrekat]

cant believe i forgot about maleficent and her emo boytoy omg thank you for cleansing the timeline🫶

I am so pleased to bless the timeline with a fine vintage ship, come join me in savoring it. I checked out the novelization on a whim (commuting) and I was like, oh right! I forgot this movie and specifically this ship was made in a lab for my brain. So now I've rewatched the film and I'm lost in the sauce.

I love that Maleficent/Diaval is the story of two people accidentally raising a baby into a teenager together and the whole time Maleficent is oblivious (not her fault! she has bigger things going on!) while Diaval is like "that's my wife, she's terrifying. i love her. <3" Even when Aurora meets them properly as a 15 year old, Maleficent is Going Through It™ while Diaval is just so hype to finally introduce himself to his child.

Pictured above: moments that really did a number on me. He raised this kid and now he gets to finally meet her properly and they're both so delighted by it while Maleficent watches from the corner like }:-(

I really feel like the most beautiful and unique part of it is the genuine backtalk; Diaval might start out subservient and he certainly maintains that position but as time goes on he proves himself perfectly willing to correct or backtalk Maleficent. He basically functions as a reminder of her heart and moral compass while she is recovering from her hurt (and subsequent revenge bender) and it's delightful to watch because you rarely see a position where a male character is so open and honest while the woman gets to have the delicious redemption arc. Maleficent is going through an enemies-to-godfamily relationship arc with Aurora while Diaval is patiently waiting for her to realize he's got heart eyes (AND for her to realize she does actually love Aurora, that's another great element, he realizes this LONG before Maleficent does and tries to gently nudge her over to that revelation). But also this:

He really said "I am just pretending to be afraid of you; I know you won't hurt me even if you push me around" and he was right. What a lovely thing to be playing out as the B or maybe C-plot. There's enough insane drama happening, it's nice that there's something a little lighter and more steady in the background of the story.

Another thing I was musing on through the book and film -- as much as I adore found family and platonic love, it's nice to see a story where a victim of what is clearly coded as sexual assault and is at least intimate partner violence finds love again. I know Maleficent & Diaval isn't technically 'canon', but again, the film was juggling enough relationship arcs with Maleficent & Aurora and Maleficent & Stefan. It's okay, in my eyes, for the romance element to be subtext, when it's clearly still important and given some narrative space and weight.

I had a more coherent thought but finally found a gif of just this moment (thank you, @raainstorms, you spoil us all) so instead you get this. I love it. Maleficent really said "go defend our kid who I haven't realized yet is our kid" and Diaval said "understood". Never proposed but nevertheless they've been married for years.

"Who fell first vs. who fell harder" is defunct. "Which one is the evil minion who adopted the baby on sight and who is the Evil Empress who had to slowly realize they love the baby" is the vintage yardstick everything else has to measure up to. I will read 100,000 fanfics of Maleficent only belatedly realizing that somewhere in the process of acquiring her goddaughter she also acquired a husband. Maybe she acquired the husband first, she certainly does not know. Diaval understands this and is okay with it, Aurora probably doesn't understand in the slightest how her godmother did not pick up on anything.

And the sequel! I realized after reading some other posts that I did NOT remember the sequel correctly because my memories are "fairy genocide and also Diaval and Maleficent are co-parenting". Apparently somewhere in there Maleficent is shoved into a love triangle with two men who are not her long-term boytoy/coparent/external moral compass, which is ridiculous, because the film ends with them attending their daughter's wedding in matching outfits.

If Maleficent 3 (boo hiss at Disney, make something new, cowards) isn't about Aurora parent trapping them I am going to riot in the street.

TL;DR: My roommate described maleval as this post and I have not been able to shake it from my mind because it really, really fits: