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#they just found themselves in a very bad place
bloodyshadow1 · 8 hours
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I get people being sympathetic to the Rat grinders, I really do, but the way people will out right lie about canon to make the Bad Kids the villains. The Rat Grinders are kids, they're being groomed by charismatic and dangerous teachers who they trusted, they're corrupted by rage so they're not thinking straight. At the end of the day, that makes them cultists, pitiable and sympathetic, but still villains who are perfectly willing to create a hell on earth for the plan.
I've seen posts condemning the bad kids for killing the rat grinders, I've seen posts calling the Bad Kids bullies this season, I've seen posts that blame the Bad Kids for the whole thing saying the rat grinders are just kids who are being tricked. It's all bullshit, whatever your headcanons, whatever your feelings on the Rat Grinders, they're not the good guys here and are very much the villains this season.
The bad kids killed the 3 of the rat grinders this fight, Ivy, Oisin, and Ruben. No, they didn't stop to try and reach out to them, to try and make them see the light. The Rat Grinders are trying to condemn a whole town to become the domain of a the new god of rage and murder a goddess to usurp her domain. They are high level with the capacity to cast 9th level spells regardless of their hp, with two epic level pc's with super abilities that normal class features don't cover. If the Bad Kids hesitated they would be dead, they knew that, the Rat grinders tried to murder them little over an hour ago. They've hated the bad kids for years and now decided to make their vendetta known, they fucked around and found out.
Which leads me to my second point, the Bad Kids are not bullying the Rat grinders. They're not pleasant to the rat grinders, but you don't have to be nice to the people who hate you. Other than Fig, who I will admit was messed up with how she treated Ruben this year, but also the Rat Grinders did something similar, they were just bad at it, the Bad Kids mostly ignored the Rat grinders. The worst thing the other bad Kids do to the Rat Grinders is make fun of Kipperlily's name, that's it. They don't even do it in front of other students, unless they legitimately forget her name, other than that it's only in front of each other or not other students like Alewyn or Jawbone. It's not great, but that is literally all they have done.
The Rat grinders however, have done all they could to make themselves enemies of the Bad Kids. Ivy was a mean racist bitch who helped steal the cloudrider engine and place pingpong balls all over seacaster manor for the plan. Ruben tried to get the bad kids to take drugs knowing it would get them in trouble. He intentionally had frosty fair held at Gorgug's home to corrupt it, putting not only Gorgug's family in danger but countless other people. Sure Jace had a hand in that, but at best Ruben was an accomplice. Buddy was a smug creep who vandalized Kristen's locker, threatened her brother, and demeaned her and her goddess, without being corrupted by rage. Mary Ann legitimately didn't do anything wrong this season she was just there and did her best on the field as she was supposed to (not even saying this as a joke, she has literally done nothing bad on screen so it's hard to judge her like the rest). But Oisin tried to honey pot Adaine the first week of school, stole the cloudrider engine and the pingpong ball trap, and sent a whole pack of dragons on them to murder them and hundreds of other kids. Kipperlily has been goading the bad kids since the first day of school, she has tried every dirty trick to try and win. She has murdered people, not even people affiliated with the bad kids, but people like Buddy who was on her side, she's tried to murder the bad kids or at least make sure it's harder for them to come back to life if they die, she's stolen from them, she's tried to kill them, she's done everything bad the fans have accused the bad kids of but worse.
And that's just the Rat Grinder's individually. Why are the Bad Kids monsters for killing dangerous people who have tried to kill them, but the Rat Grinders aren't? The Rat Grinders literally tried to commit mass murder of their school a little more than an hour. 500 students of the Aguefort adventuring academy were in Seacaster manor when it was brought into the sky and beset by dragons. 500 innocent bystanders, almost all children, half of them younger than both parties.
I'll get to the rage stars in another post, but I just want to finish this off with, the Rat Grinders are kids, kids who are being groomed by evil men and corrupted by magic. But the Bad Kids are just kids too. They're kids who have been specifically targeted by the rat grinders. The rat grinders started this feud, the Bad Kids retaliated and were better at it. If you're going to take a shot at the king you better not miss, and the rat grinders have been missing their shots this whole season. I don't get why people are blaming the bad kids for trying to save the world but it pisses me off. I apologize for the rant but the tag is for everyone
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AITA for lying to my friends and causing someone to end their life?
🫐☎️🧼 
So I can find this later
Trigger warning for suicide. 
In this situation I'm aware I fucked up badly multiple times, but I want to know for sure whether I was in the wrong. I went through the FAQ to check that this submission is okay and sorry if there's something disqualifying it I didn catch!
I (minor) was active in an online group where I made some online friends. The group was for preteens, teens, and very young adults (13-21.) I befriended one person, Blueberry (fake name, because emoji) and we became close over a few months. At one point they admitted they had a crush on me I didn't feel the same, but we agreed to stay friends and it didn't affect the friendship.
One thing about this group is that it was aimed at mental health. Me and this person had similar problems with depression and suicidal thoughts (both actively suicidal) and often talked when one of us was in a dark place. When Blueberry turned 18 things took a turn for the worst. Multiple times a week they had panic attacks (they were in the process of getting diagnosed with OCD and bad intrusive thoughts) or crisis and attempted several times. I got overwhelmed. Instead of establishing a boundary like I should have, I started ghosting them for a few hours if it got too bad. It got to the point I'd log on once or twice a day to check in, but instead of ever chatting, the conversation always ended in their next plan to kill themselves. This one was my fault, as we'd had casual convos about this stuff in the main group. I and others did what we could to help, like providing support and helplines. Blueberry did contact many and it saved them lots. 
By this point Blueberry had done lots of other risky stuff. They lashed out and blocked a lot of mutual friends, made a fake account to pretend to be a young teen at one point (but deleted it when I asked), and other things. I didn't want to lose them as a friend so I covered for Blueberry when it was exposed. I should point out Blueberry was never mean to me they were really nice. They liked to learn about my interests and complimented me and others lots and I tried to do the same (learn about what they liked, tell them I was happy to hear from them, etx)
Obviously people of the group felt betrayed when they found out Blueberry was catfishing them as this younger teen. In Blueberry's own words, I was "the only one they could trust." Blueberry admitted again that they wanted to be more than friends, but since they were now 18 and I was still a few years younger than them I asked to just be friends because the age gap was uncomfy. They were okay with it. The next day, Blueberry said goodbye to me and deleted their account. I was really upset by this and we talked one last time where I wished them well and said how much I'd miss them but didn't think something was seriously wrong because Blueberry and me had discussed them leaving the group before because it was hurting their mental health. 
Later a friend of both Blueberry and me reached out about their behavior the days before they left and some conversations I hadn't seen. All of us are pretty sure they didn't just delete their account—they killed themself. The goodbye message proved this. I was upset and angry that they were dead, said sorry to the group for lying to them about Blueberry catfishing, and left the group.
I think I may be the asshole here because I was really selfish here in not wanting to address Blueberry's really creepy catfishing (pretending to be a young teen, which knowing that they had romantic feelings for me could have led to them befriending people lots younger than them which is bad) because I didn't want to lose the friendship, and also because if I hadn't ghosted Blueberry using mental health as an excuse I don't think they would have killed themselves. If I am the asshole here, what could I do better next time if I have a similar problem again? 
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strwbrryeyes · 2 days
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nini… think about… iwaizumi meeting a girl who’s surprisingly stronger than him. she can lift that man with no problem. she has a sleeper build or something !! :3
𖦹°。⋆ Friendly competition (iwaizumi x reader)
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⟡ cw: fluff, competitive fem!reader and iwaizumi, taken place at a gym, idk i'm bad with tags, lmk if i missed anything
⟡ a/n: omg requests are finally rolling out after ages! also i rewrote this and proofread it countless times so if there's anything wrong i'm sorry im just DUMB
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Iwaizumi Hajime has always loved going to the gym, which is evident as he goes there almost every day. Not only is he very fit and built, but his health is also in excellent condition as he knows that taking care of himself and his inner workings is just as important (actually, more important) as keeping up his outward appearance. It also helps that he is an athletic trainer, so he always has a way to remind himself to stay in shape as he would always nag his athletes about the importance of being fit while not overworking themselves. Overall, Iwaizumi has always found comfort and importance in working out and keeping everything about himself in good shape.
So that’s when he saw you about to lift an alarmingly heavy weight, he walked towards you as worry took over him but then stopped in surprise when he saw you lift up the weight over your head with complete ease and no sign of struggle.
“Impressive…” Iwaizumi mutters out as he watches you place the weight back down in front of you.
As he catches your attention, you turn around and smile at him with pride. “Thank you! I’ve been working towards that for weeks now!” You happily tell him while wiping the sweat off of your forehead. Iwaizumi continues to watch you as you walk towards the rest of your stuff in pure amazement and curiosity before striking up another conversation.
“You know, I’ve never seen someone like you lift like that,” Iwaizumi starts as he leans over the piece of equipment in front of him “What’s your secret?”
With a chuckle and a light flush creeping up your face, you look at him with a teasing kind of look. “Not much really, just a lot of hard work and a lot of trial and errors of multiple techniques!” you exclaim to him as you flex your arm further surprising the man by how well-built you actually are.
“Why don’t you show me a few tricks then?” he quirks his brow playfully as he steps closer to you as if he’s proposing a challenge.
“I don’t see why not,” you take one step closer, looking up at him “but I’m warning you, you might get yourself into more than you can handle.” playfully teasing him, you smirk at Iwaizumi causing him to drop his jaw in shock a bit before he lets out a low chuckle.
“Oh, I’m sure I can handle it.” Iwaizumi finally says before sticking out his hand for a handshake “I’m Iwaizumi, and I’ll see you here same time tomorrow.”
“I’m [name], and you can bet I’ll be here tomorrow to make you beg for mercy.” You take his hand in yours and shake it as if he had just made a deal with the devil.
What the both of you don’t know is that this handshake would be the one that would change your lives for the better.
As the next day rolls around, you both stay true to your words and show up to the gym around the same time. You both share techniques with each other and become friends easily as you both push each other to new limits, sparking a playful rivalry that leads into more sessions at the gym.
With each day at the gym together, you both challenge each other to multiple tests of strength and endurance that even catch the attention of all the other regulars to the point where they all surround you during every small competition you guys had. Even with all of the eyes looking at you two, you and Iwaizumi only see each other with no care for everyone else. Was it just that you wanted to one up each other? Or was it more than that? Neither of you were too sure yet, but you did know that you never wanted your time together to come to an end.
Days and weeks pass by, and you and Iwaizumi still find ways to work harder and to encourage each other to go further than you have been in the gym, but now you’ve come to realize you have challenged each other to almost everything one could think of.
With this realization, you walk up to Iwaizumi who is doing his post-workout stretching and sit across from him.
“Well, Iwa-chan~” you say in a mocking tone, knowing that nickname annoys him ever since his friend, Oikawa, came to work out with you both a couple of times, which causes him to roll his eyes, “Looks like I’ve taught you everything I know and you still fall behind a bit.” you smirk as he whips his head up to look at you.
“That’s a lie and you know it.” he spits out before standing up.
Your smirk turns into a full-on shit-eating grin as you look up at him from the floor “How is it a lie? I’m still stronger than you.” You tease him, making his eyebrow twitch.
“You are not stronger than me.” He chuckles, only a bit offended before turning around to grab his water bottle as an idea pops into your head.
As Iwaizumi drinks his water, you slowly and quietly stand up and walk behind him. Once directly behind him, you snake your arms around his waist and lift him up, causing a high-pitched yelp to come from his mouth which causes you to burst out laughing and accidentally drop him on the ground, making him lose his balance which leads to him falling over.
After a few more seconds of your non-stop laughing to the point where your eyes are squeezed shut with tears poking out from the corners, Iwaizumi takes this as an opportunity to take revenge and scoop you up bridal style in his own two arms.
This action makes you stop laughing as shock takes over you with your face turning a bright shade of pink, Iwaizumi smiles at you.
“You may be able to lift me a few inches off the ground, but that doesn’t mean anything as long as I’m able to lift you,” He says in a voice that's soft and soothing to your ears before placing you back on the ground slowly.
You try to gain your composure as fast as you can but only fail when he takes your hand in his and looks directly into your eyes with a look you’ve never seen from him before. A look of adoration.
“Let me take you to dinner after we leave?” Iwaizumi asks you, with hope in his voice, and after a few moments of shock and silence, you lightly punch his chest before nuzzling your face into it so he wouldn’t see your face, which was still the pinkest shade possible.
“Okay, but I get to choose where we eat.” Finally, you mutter out an answer into his chest, and all he can do is hug you while lifting you up into the air once again.
With that, you and Iwaizumi go out to dinner and talk and laugh before you both decide to make it official.
After dinner, you walk hand in hand back to your place, happy that you’ve found each other, but of course, you can’t let this be too sappy of a moment, so you let go of his hand and step out in front of him.
“So! What’s it like having a girlfriend that’s stronger than you?” You tease him with your signature grin, making him roll his eyes before pulling you into his arms.
“It feels pretty great actually.” Iwaizumi mumbles out, causing you to cheer and pump your fist into the air as he finally admitsthat you’re stronger than him.
You’re only stronger than him by a bit, but he doesn’t care as long as he gets to see you smile your goofy smile more.
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regular-gnome · 3 months
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I love the new comic so much! Not only is it breathtaking on its own, but it adds delicious moral complexity to the collection incomplete verse. The Archivists eliminating all the titans is still very much not a good thing, but now we can see that the titans were far from paragons of virtue. Subjugating and extracting tribute from the populace. The titans may have considered themselves benevolent overlords, but overlords all the same.
Just this one comic gives a window into why the locals might have been down with joining the Archivists hunting the titans down. Conflict is so much more interesting when neither side is fully right or wrong and I'm thrilled to see this will be so much more complicated than "Archivists bad, Titans good,".
super happy you enjoyed it:P it took aaaa while to finish
But yeah, something I found interesting is that with creatures like Titans living among witches, there is a clear power imbalance between them, something that has many ways to go about. Especially considering how differently they are perceived by two groups of witches. On the Boiling Isles, they were seen as a source of all that's good amazing kind creatures of immense power, while Titan Trappers talked about them more like monsters. I like the idea there were societies or cults built around differnt titans, and the differences between how everyone interacted were more based on the personalities of those involved - leading to diffrent views on titans by the groups. And I know a cult focused on killing titans isn't going to be a source of reliable information on the titans. This is more about how they might have been perceived to make space for a third party to convince a group that murder isn't such a bad idea (it is, please don't)
Another thing is that all characters are people, not in the "humans" sense but there arent really levels of sentience. All characters have their own minds, whether they are titans, archivists, witches, etc. It's just different circumstances and abilities, and if the stakes were smaller and everyone was forced to sit down and reflect on what they were doing, it might have ended up much less deadly
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The screens are from King's tales of his past that were very much kids imagination, but I like the idea that somewhere in Kings nursery those depitons were drawn showing a diffrent titan and it fueled his story. Debatable if it was an accurate and not a demonised depition though
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everyday I miss miitomo .. aaa
#these screenshots are not even good or the most interesting/funny/cool ones from back then#they just so happen to be ones I found in a folder so am thinking about them solely for the memory of it all#WORST thing is I never even had friends (still don't have friends really that have many similar interests to me lol..epic hermit moment) who#played or were willing to do I didn't really use the social aspects much. if there were any?? maybe I'm just making up a better game in my#head lol.. I thought maybe you could visit your friends apartments at some point or something? I know you could have multiple mii characters#and put them in their own apartments too.#I could also be mixing it in my mind with tomodachi life. which is a superior game. but also I think mostly I just loved the dress up and#photo creation aspects of this. That you could spend like 30 minutes putting your little avatar person in different lttle poses with differe#nt backgrounds and import your own custom background and etc. etc. And the community questions & answers section was always ridiculous#WHY is it that all actually good and cool things end up shutting down and nobody cares about them but then some tv shows/games/etc. can keep#going for like 808989598590 years when they are actually very bad and stinky and pointless#I know probably something somehting profit motive. if something sucks but is hyped blindly and sells then that's all that matters.#things that are cool and innocative but have a small audience get poo poo pee pee Not Good Enough For Shareholders whatever#>:(#This is why I don't play apps or online games /anything live service or that is dependent on external things to function#Like every once in a while I do but for the most part if something is not it's own self contained experience then I dont care to even get#invested in the first place because it could just randomly be taken away from you at any time without warning or etc.#Also just charmed by anything that incorporates personality tests into part of the structure of an app even in a minor.comepletely trivial w#ay due to my preexisting obsession with anything in the realm of that topic (enneagram. mbti. etc. even astrology. just any way humans categ#orzie and analyze themselves. NOT because I think they're all scientifically valid methods and swear by them in practuce but like. the theor#y of it. I love personaliy testing from like.. a cultural perspective? like the fact that humans make this stuff up at all. and how they use#it and conceptualize it and apply it to their lives. the different frameworks within which the same traits can be categorized in different w#ays. one person looks at X trait and says its bc theyre a virgo. another explains the same exact trait by saying it's bc theyre an infj. etc#I mean some of them I do find actually personally fun to get into themselves (enneagram mostly) but mostly I just like the.. analysis#tfw you're such an analytical person you like to spend time analyzing analysis. Thinking abt the ways people think about thinking abt things#Actually Ive talked before about how I don't relate to/care about/get emotionally attached to media/dont exhibit Fan Behviors or join fandom#s or etc. BUT that is actually the one vaguely media related thing I WILL do. after watching something I like going to places like that#'personality database' site which is the public voting on character's personality types. and I do enjoy going to read the comments. not bec#ause I care about the character themselves. but I love seeing the paragraph long debates about like.. why Whoever is actually an intp NOT an#intj . or like 'OBVIOUSLY theyre 3w4 so/sp ILI are you FUCKING BLIND??!'. essays breaking down every cognitive function they ehibit and why
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arolesbianism · 5 months
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Oopsie doopsie slips and makes another batch of side characters their own story in which they're the main characters
#rat rambles#oc posting#its the rest of the guys who were stuck in the lab with applebounce and pent before they all escaped#I havent talked abt literally any of them but they do exist and they're getting a story now cause I have Ideas#mostly involving some mind fuckery with the black good tee em#basically a mix of worldbuilding with the goop and mind fuckery with the gang but mostly the main character cause theyre having a time#Ive just been lsitening to the subway midnight trailer song and thinking abt them very hard#long long story short there used to be a society of folk who were mostly made of the life goop (similar to ari) but after cake got an#interest in the substance soon after his squad did their coup he basically got the place wiped out so he could use it as a goop source#but after a while he found out how to produce it in more convenient locations plus that goop was totally haunted so he abandoned it#the main gang of this story after having escaped the lab were looking for a place to stay after leaving and felt themselves inexplicably#drawn to this place and ended up getting stuck there rip#mostly because the place is trying very hard to keep everyone in it alive but is failing since the old dead ppl dont have bodies anymore#so in its desperation to revive them they drew in the nearest bodies it could detect that had ties to it#but since the gang arent full goop they kind of got split into two separate beings kind of#and by that I mean more so they had their memories and shit split from them but said memories cant exist fully alone#so they kind of just go through set routines and only interact with things that can fit into said routines#thats the messy bad way of explaining it but yeah#the main character is basically just going around finding the ppl they came here with and helping them find their lost memories#all while being haunted by seemingly hundreds of their own#this is all still in the brainstorming phase tho so expect all of this to be fleshed out more in the future#Ill need to work on drawing the main cast to show yall once I finish my current commission 👍
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spenceobsessed · 3 months
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post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader
genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot
summary: spencer can't help but despise his "replacement", especially during an undercover mission in a nightclub.
MDNI 18+
“this is insane.” penelope garcia mutters on the other end of the phone call. “there’s no way jeffery was able to absolutely take himself off the internet.” she huffs, the keyboard clicking in the background. “i’m gonna keep working. i’ll be back in a jiffy, i swear!” she says sweetly before hanging up.
the unsub, jeffery hogan had abducted then murdered four young women in los angeles california. the team had been in la for three days now, and jeffery had already killed two more women before they could stop him. all of them were getting antsy and a little angry.
you sigh, leaning back in your chair as the rest of the team begins talking amongst themselves, minus spencer, who had been staring at a map for twenty minutes.
“reid.” you say, catching his attention. he doesn’t look up, but you can tell that your voice startled him slightly.
“hmm?” he says, annoyance lacing his tone. you roll your eyes. he had been an absolute dick to you since day one. the whole team had described him as a saint, yet, you couldn’t see it. yes, he was attractive, but that didn’t distract from how hateful he was towards you. plus, you had been nothing but nice to him when you first met him, doing nothing to get on his bad side.
“did you make a connection between the locations?” you ask curtly. he huffs. “i don’t see you doing anything helpful.” he snaps, finally looking up from his map to glare at you.
“spence,” jj begins, joining the conversation unknowingly. “any connections?” he smiles and turns to face her, like you hadn’t just asked the same question.
“the one common location that overlaps with all the crime scenes and significant places in jeffery’s life is the ‘night owl’, a local night club.” reid says, smirking at you when he finishes his sentence like a teenager. you scoff.
emily gives them a look that says “act professional please”.
“we have no idea what he looks like, we only know bits and pieces of his life that garcia could dig up, how are we going to catch him?” matt asks, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, a coffee in hand.
“i could go undercover,” you begin with a shrug. “most of the girls he abducted have been around my age and have my same features.” emily nods in agreement.
“one issue.” rossi says. “the unsub has always abducted women on dates.” you nod. that’s true.
“i could go with you.” matt says, standing up straight and taking a sip of his coffee. you open your mouth to thank him but emily cuts you off.
“no offense simmons, but what if we sent in reid instead? he closer matches y/n’s age and resembles the victims boyfriends more closely.”
spencer opens his mouth to protest but tara cuts him off with a smile. “great idea, you guys should leave in an hour or so, you better start getting ready.”
you watch as reid fights the urge to say something rude, but is quickly whisked away by emily.
jj helps you get ready in another conference room of the precinct, dressing you like the average clubber.
your outfit is a small, tight, red mini dress, with matching heels and accessories. you had to admit, you looked good. you found yourself wondering what they had put reid in and whether he would find you attractive in this tight dress.
“you look amazing.” a voice breaks you out of your trance as you’re putting in an ear piece. you smile, turning to face emily.
“thank you.” you say softly, using your hands to smooth out your dress. “i think i’m ready.” you add, slightly nervous. emily reassures you that you will do great and asks you to follow her outside.
that’s where you’re met with spencer reid. he looks unfortunately handsome, hot even, wearing the most casual “spencer outfit” you have ever seen: corduroy pants, converse, and a white button down. the white button down was sheer linen (very beachy) and allowed you to barely see his chest. you quickly remind yourself that he is in fact a dick, hoping that will somehow make him less attractive.
you watch as his eyes wander your body. emily seems to notice and clears her throat.
“you guys gotta get going.” she breathes out a smirk on her face.
reid walks over to the side of the car. you smile slightly as he opens the door, your smile fading as he slides in alone slamming the door behind him.
“petty bitch.” you mutter. your heels angrily clicking against the asphalt as you walk to the other side of the suv, ripping open the door and sliding in with your arms crossed. you slam the door behind yourself, eyes glaring into the side of reid’s face.
“look,” you begin, your tone angry. “if this is going to work you need to at least try to pretend not to be a fucking asshole.” he scoffs, turning to face you.
“watch your tone.” he says lowly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. your arms are still crossed and you watch as spencer’s eyes go from your face to your tits, then back up again.
you remind yourself that indeed, he's just a man. he may be a genius but behind that, he’s simply just a man with needs. you were going to make tonight hell for him.
you smirk, eyes glaring into his. “do your fucking job and i just might comply, doctor.”
he turns his head away from you, staring out the window, a new type of tension in the air.
“can you guys hear me?” jj says through you ear pieces. “yeah.” reid says, you can hear how angry he is, just through one word.
the team gives you both a rundown and reminds you both of your parts.
“…remember you’re a couple!” garcia reminds you. the team agrees loudly on the line. “yeah,” alvez says. “pretend to like each other for one night.”
“we’ll try, alvez.” you reply as the suv pulls up in front of the busy nightclub.
you look over at reid. “open my damn door and look like you fucking mean it.” you say through gritted teeth. he doesn’t respond as he steps out of the car, shutting his door quietly and makes his way over to your side of the car. he opens your door with a fake smile on his face, putting out his hand for you to grab. you get out of the car, leaning in to whisper in his ear.
“grab my waist.” you demand. he huffs under his breath, reaching his large hand to rest on your waist. he leans in to whisper back. “you will not dictate this night. i have over ten more years of experience than you, on this team. you do not get to boss me around, y/l/n.” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from your ear with a fake smile on his face. you don’t have time to respond as he says; “let’s go, baby.”
the nickname hits you like a brick, especially the way it comes out of his mouth so effortlessly. in an attempt to control your composure, you smile and lean against him as he rubs his hand lovingly across your waist.
you both enter the night club, the mix of bright lights and darkness temporarily blinds you as you grip onto spencer for support.
“don’t respond, but we see you’ve made it inside. go grab a drink from the bar then hit the dance floor.” emily orders. spencer nods, leading you towards the busy bar.
as you approach the bar, the bartender asks what you both want. “i’ll have a club soda with lime.” spencer says, turning his head to look down at you. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, rubbing circles on your waist softly. you smile back up at him pretending like you don’t want to kill him and subtly dig your ass into his crotch. he sucks in a breath.
“i’ll have a vodka soda.” you say with a sweet smile on your face. the bartender nods going to make the drinks.
you look back at spencer, his jaw clenched and his breathing heavy. you set your phone down on the bar and “accidentally” knock it off of the counter.
“oops!” you say dryly, bending down to pick it up, your ass now rubbing against his crotch. you subtly feel something twitch in his pants.
“y/n.” he warns you. you nod innocently. “hmm?” you hum. he moves his hand from your waist. you look back at him to silently scold him, but he quickly uses both hands to push you away from his crotch. he slides his hands down your waist, to your ass, then pulls down your dress in one quick motion. a man standing to his left begins complaining loudly about how he can no longer see your "fattie". you almost thank him, then remember that its fucking spencer you're dealing with.
he doesn’t say anything and simply hands you your drink, leading you away from the bar and the creepy men, to a nearby table.
you bite your lip to hold back hateful words that dare to spill out. you stand in silence, spencer sipping his drink while you chug yours.
"you look miserable." emily says in your ears. "do something." she adds.
"wanna dance, pretty boy?" you ask him, the nickname falling from your mouth accidentally. you pretend like it was on purpose as spencer looks up from his drink, slightly stuttering over his response.
"y-yeah, yeah." he repeats, regaining his composure. he grabs your hand and leads you towards the crowd of sweaty people dancing, only looking back once to make sure you were still there
spencer scans the crowd as he pulls you into his chest harshly.
"i'm not just some doll you can throw around, reid." you yell over the music, sick of his bullshit. he looks you in the eyes and shrugs.
as the song changes, couples around you begin to make out.
"kiss me, reid." you say, realizing the awkward dancing in a crowd of horny couples would defer the unsub's attention. spencer doesn't seem to hear you. "reid." you repeat, his eyes still scanning the room. "spencer." you say, the first time you've ever said his first name to him. this catches his attention. his gaze finally falls to you, his frame towering over yours as you wrap your arms around his neck.
"i need you to kiss me, spencer."
the usually dick-ish man makes no cocky response. instead, he simply tips his head down capturing your lips in a kiss. the kiss is awkward at first, but quickly turns heated as you press your body against his. his hands, which were loosely on your waist move downward, rubbing circles on your ass and somehow moving you closer to him.
you run your hands through his hair, feeling him moan softly into your mouth. his sweet noises immediately go straight to your now-wet-core. you break the kiss for a second, to catch your breath, your faces still inches apart.
spencer's pupils are blown, his hair is messy, and his lips slightly swollen, tinted red from your lipstick. fuck, you want to devour him.
spencer quickly resumes the kiss, this time you don't have to ask. you easily feel how hard he is already, with his cock pressed against your leg.
you groan softly as you push your tongue into his mouth, eliciting more sweet noises from the handsome man.
"nice job guys, we have a suspect at 3 o'clock." emily says into our ears, reminding us that we aren't alone.
“let’s go somewhere more secluded.” spencer whispers, his breath hot on your cheek. he wants to lure the unsub out. you nod, waiting for him to move. instead his hands are still on your ass, his eyes on you, like he’s taking a mental picture.
“pretty boy.” you say almost inaudibly. “let’s go.” he spins you around so you’re in front now, able to maneuver your way out of the crowd. one of his hands rests on the small of your back protectively as you head towards the back corner of the club, a stark contrast to the way he was treating you less than 10 minutes ago.
“the hypothetical unsub’s eyes are still on you guys but he hasn’t moved, we can’t seem to see his face on camera. you need to get him to move closer.” jj announces in your ears.
“she’s telling us to kiss again.” you whisper. he nods, placing his large hand on your cheek and swiping his thumb across your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into kiss him. he picks you up slightly, just enough to allow you to sit on him as he takes a seat on a random couch.
as he moves from kissing your lips to your jaw and neck, you instinctively begin rocking your hips against his, feeling how hard he is under you.
he groans softly against your neck, his kisses becoming sloppier.
“y/n.” his tone desperate, the use of your first name alarming. “if you keep going i might not be able to maintain professionalism.”
you bite your lip excitedly. “do you want me to stop then, spencer?” his eyes stare into yours, his hands on your hips.
“no.” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him and kissing you again. he moves his hands upwards as his lips move downwards, slowly leaving kisses and rubbing your now-visible nipples through the thin fabric for your dress. you suck in a breath at the new sensation, your head thrown back in ecstasy.
“the unsub moved into the light, it’s jeffery. sending alvez and rossi in now to apprehend him. you guys can stand down, nice work.” emily says, startling them slightly. you pull away from spencer, your underwear undeniably wet and your cunt begging for attention. you awkwardly remove yourself from his lap, sitting next to him on the sofa, noticing that in fact he was hard, an outline of his dick highlighted in the odd club lighting. he squirms in his seat slightly, obviously trying to readjust.
“y/n,” he says, noticing your eyes on him. you hum in response, your eyes moving from his cock to his face. “bathroom.” he says simply.
he doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond, simply getting up and leaving the room. you wait for a few seconds, processing his words and attempting to wrap your head around the fact that an hour ago you hated this man and now you were dying for him to fuck you.
a few minutes pass and you make your way to the bathroom where you don’t even knock, you simply walk in. spencer is there waiting. immediately as you enter the bathroom, he locks it, then attached his lips to yours. you moan softly into the kiss, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. he, however, seems to as other plans as he sets you down on the sink and lowers himself between your legs.
he leaves soft kisses up your thighs, your legs now thrown over his shoulders. “spencer,” you beg, his lips dangerously close to your cunt. “please.”
he smiles as you beg, hooking his finger on your underwear and pulling them down your legs roughly. he lowers his head farther in between your legs, licking a slow stripe down your cunt, causing you to squeeze your legs around his head and moan.
hearing your reaction, spencer moans softly against your pussy, the vibrations making you gasp.
unfortunately the club music had been turned off and if anyone were to walk by, they would probably hear you making sounds. you cover your mouth with your hand to make sure you guys don’t get caught.
he moves his tongue farther into you, the sound of his mouth on your soaking wet cunt making lewd sounds that fill the small bathroom.
you moan into your hand, bucking your hips against his face.
he pulls his mouth away from you and without skipping a beat he inserts one of his large fingers into you, grinding his crotch against the edge of the sink to get himself off.
you open your mouth to tease him but he interrupts you by adding another finger into your pussy. you can’t help but moan loudly, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.
“so good for me.” he says breathlessly, his fingers’ pace rough inside you and his hips fast against the sink counter.
“spencer,” you say in between ragged breaths. “i’m so close!” he smiles at your words, removing his fingers from your pussy with a pop.
you groan softly, hating the feeling of emptiness.
“spencer.” you warn, sitting up to get a good look at him. he has a look in his eye, a smirk on his face.
“what’s up?” he says nonchalantly, licking you off his lips and his fingers. you ask yourself how he can be so calm when he was literally just finger fucking you and eating you out. his cock is still dangerously hard, a spot of pre-cum on his cute little pants. you catch yourself imagining how big he is.
“fine.” you huff, seeing how he didn’t seem like he wanted you to finish. you insert your own fingers into your swollen cunt, pumping them inside yourself like spencer had been only a minute ago.
you over exaggerate your moans watching as spencer begins to rub himself through his now tight pants.
“i’m not going to beg you, pretty boy, but i need your cock inside of me right now.” he smirks at your words, making his way back over to you, hands moving to your face, kissing you passionately.
“i’m pretty sure that was begging, y/n.” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, beginning to unbutton his pants.
however, loud knocks interrupt him. "spencer?? are you in there??" emily's familiar voice, fills the room.
"uh, yeah! i'll be out in a second!" he says, beginning to re-button his pants, his cock still visibly hard. emily says something inaudible from the other side of the door then walks away. you lean forward on the sink counter, resting your head on spencer's shoulder, his arms wrapping around you.
after a second of peace, you hop of the counter in an attempt to fix your appearance, sliding back on your awkwardly soaked underwear.
"can we please finish this later?" spencer speaks up, catching you off guard. you smile, your brain still processing the fact that an hour ago you wanted to kill this man.
"yes, please."
part 2 :)
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yandere-daydreams · 4 months
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Title: Nursle.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 3.4k.
TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Mentions of Pregnancy, Implied Stalking, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lactation, Slight Breeding Kinks, Daddy Kinks, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, and Age Gaps (Gojo is 20, Reader is 35+).
[Part Two]
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A few days into the new school year, you decided that Gojo Satoru could not be Fushiguro Megumi’s primary guardian, despite what the paperwork filed by the former claimed. Honestly, the fact that Megumi’s name had been misspelled in every conceivable way across the aforementioned paperwork should’ve been enough to make that clear, but after a decade of teaching, you’d learned to pick up on the smaller signs; a certain discomfort that passed through Megumi's expression whenever you asked about his homelife, the lapse before a half-hearted answer whenever you posed a question to Satoru as to Megumi's preferences. It didn’t necessarily mean anything bad was going on, just that something was going on - something you couldn’t ignore, not completely.
Four weeks into the new school year, you decided that Fushiguro Megumi did not like Gojo Satoru. All your students were at the age where they were suddenly eager to distance themselves from any adult they could call an authority, but Megumi was the only one still in your classroom hours after the school day ended, the only one who stayed for as long as you could afford to let him. Sometimes, Satoru would make an appearance, loiter outside of your classroom or pass time with the best attempts at small talk someone nearly two decades your junior could make, but Megumi made a habit of ignoring him and try as you might, you'd never had the heart to be very strict with your students. The only days he didn’t stay to help you (as much as a nine year old could help anyone do anything) were the days when his sister was free to pick him up and, much to your relief, Satoru was nowhere to be found.
Two months into the new school year, you found yourself on the doorstep of Gojo Satoru’s listed address which, notably, was not the dingy flat you’d dropped off Megumi in front of whenever he stayed too late to justify letting him walk home alone. Instead, you gaped openly at the skyscraper in front of you, as tall as the eye could see and pouring out the kind of people you couldn’t help but want to get away from. You’d called ahead, let Satoru know you’d be making a home visit to discuss some of your concerns about Megumi, but for as long as he’d kept you on the phone, he’d never bothered to explain why he would ask you to meet him in a place like—
“You’re early, Miss (L/n).”
You stiffened, glanced over your shoulder to find Gojo Satoru – dressed in his usual plain, black uniform and unaccompanied by the student you’d come to discuss. He greeted you with a wide grin, a lazy nod, and you returned it with a purse-lipped smile and a tightened hold on the strap of your messenger bag. “Well, I’d hate to waste your time.” You toyed with the idea of meeting his eyes, but your gaze skirted over the pitch-black lenses of his sunglasses and settled firmly on the collar of his button-up. “And you don’t have to call me that. It makes you sound like one of my students and—” A slight pause, a nervous laugh. “I think you might be a little too old to blend in.”
Satoru’s grin only widened. With only your own paranoia as warning, he strung an arm through the crook of yours, dragging you towards the entrance of his looming tower. “I think it’s got a nice ring to it, Miss.”
Something sharp pricked at the back of your throat.
In hindsight, it might’ve been easier to do this with the nine year old.
You kept your teeth grit and your smile plastered on as he led you through the lobby – all shining crystal chandeliers and glistening marble floors – and hauled you into a gold-gilded elevator, the kind that would’ve let you know you were somewhere you didn’t belong under normal circumstances. You watched in stomach-knotting, heart-stopping terror as the numbers ticked up, up, up, until the mirrored doors were sliding open and you were stepping into the living room that could’ve swallowed your shoebox of an apartment whole. Your heels (blocked, low, practical – the only pair you’d found the strength to wear since coming back from your leave) clicked against the bare tile floor as you stumbled into the remarkably open space, his furniture sparse and largely utilitarian. You spotted one of Megumi’s drawings on a low coffee table, a pile of Tsumiki’s hairbands forgotten on an otherwise empty bookshelf, but any other signs of life were either nonexistent or exceptionally well-hidden. Any hope you had that Megumi and Satoru’s situation might’ve just been that of a young, overburdened guardian and his slow-to-warm ward evaporated immediately. Those of limited means tended not to live in penthouses that cost triple your annual salary in rent.
If Satoru noticed your growing anxiety, he didn’t seem to pay it any mind. With an exaggerated yawn, he strode past you and collapsed onto a leather couch – too pristine to have been recently visited by two hyperactive children. When you stalled near the entryway, he let his head lull to the side, his tinted glasses falling low on the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to be shy. There’s plenty of room – not that I mind the view, if you really wanna stand.”
You took a deep breath and let it out in a long, labored exhale. He’s practically a kid, you reminded yourself. You could only be thankful you hadn’t gotten him a couple of years ago – otherwise, you’d be dealing with an actual child.
Reluctantly, you squared your shoulders and perched yourself on the far edge of the sofa. Satoru immediately closed the distance, draping his lanky arms over the back of the couch, his fingertips just barely brushing against your shoulder. You pulled your messenger bag into your lap, opening your mouth as you looked for Megumi’s file, but Satoru cut in before you could start your well-practiced monologue. “This is your first year at his school, right? I’d remember if I saw a teacher as pretty as you around campus.”
“It’s my first year back,” you corrected. “I’ve noticed Megumi very introverted for a boy his—”
“Let me guess – maternity leave?”
Your lips quirked into a tight frown. Fighting the urge to cross your arms over your stomach self-consciously, you sent him a withering look out of the corner of your eye. “I’d rather not talk about my personal life, if it’s all the same to you. Like I said, I’m not here to waste your time.”
Your tone was clipped, your voice strict, but Satoru’s only response was an airy chuckle, a careless grin. “I’m not in a rush,” he said. “But you’re probably eager to get back home to your baby girl. I know you try to spend time with her on weekends.”
This time, you didn’t try to breathe. Letting your bag fall back to your side, you moved to stand, but Satoru was quick to catch you by the wrist, to pull you back down with a single, playful jerk. Your bag fell off of your shoulder, hitting the floor and spilling open at your feet, but you didn’t reach for it. He was stronger than he looked, and you already knew everything you had to about strong young men with more power than they knew what to do with. “I’d really rather not talk about myself when Megumi is—”
“Can’t be easy, leaving her all alone like that. Did you ask your neighbor to babysit again, or was it that brat of a teenager you call up on weekends?” His hand fell to your thigh, and you immediately regretted wearing a dress, let alone one that ended well before the knee. You’d wanted this to seem causal, unintrusive, but as his fingertips bit into the plush of your thigh, you regretted not going straight to the police as soon as you noticed something strange. “Can’t be easy, not having a husband to dote on you and the little princess anymore.”
You keep your eyes on your feet, on one of the manilla folders spilling out of your bag. Megumi's name was scrawled messily across the upper right corner in red pen, because red was his favorite color and you knew he would see it every time he helped you organize paperwork for your other students. “I appreciate your concern, but we’ve managed to take care of ourselves.”
“I know.” He was close, too close. You could feel his breath, hot and humid, against the shell of your ear. “It’s just that I think I might just be able to take care of you a little better.”
“I think I should leave.” You spoke slowly, your tone flat, factual. Like you were talking to a child, or a dog, or worst of all – a man in monks' clothing, ready to worship at his own alter. “Before either of us does anything we might regret.”
Satoru let his lead lull forward, his fanged smile biting into the corner of your jaw.
You tried to bolt, but it was already too late.
It happened too quickly for you to process. One second, you were writhing in your own skin, your favorite student’s neglectful guardian pressed into your side and the next, you were on your back, splayed over the length of his couch, Satoru’s knee between your open legs and his hands on either side of your head. Your body reacted before your mind, trying to run, to resist, to get away from him, but Satoru’s hand was on your chest before you could so much as sit up, keeping you trapped underneath him without a trace of effort. “You can stop working so hard, momma.” His glasses had fallen away completely, revealing eyes as blinding as the cloudless sky and as unfeeling as raw ice. It was hard to remember why you’d ever thought a man like this could ever have anything to do with a boy as sweet as Megumi. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”
You shouldn’t have been so worried about the dress. It didn’t matter how long your skirt was, not when the cheap material fell apart so easily under his eager touch – your bra and panties discarded with just as little thought. You panicked, started to kick and shove and thrash, but his hands were already locked over your hips, keeping you pinned to the couch as he bent down and buried his face between your thighs. However young you’d thought he was, he must’ve been younger; his inexperience shining through in the overzealous way he nipped at the inside of your thighs, how hastily he laved the flat of his tongue over your slit. His pace was rough, his technique nonexistent, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had time to touch yourself, and you hadn’t slept with someone else since…
This time, when your mind went blank, you were the one willing away fractured thoughts and bitter memories. You didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted pleasure Satoru was forcing onto your body either, but it would’ve been impossible to ignore the way his teeth grazed over your clit as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, to not hear the slick sound you just couldn’t seem to believe a part of you would make as he forced two fingers into your tight pussy. You threw your head back, clenched your eyes shut, but no amount of aversion could seem to block out his throaty laugh, to make the reverberations his deep voice sent pulsing through your cunt anything short of unbearable. “Needy little thing,” he muttered, pulling away just far enough to press a lingering kiss into the apex of your hip. “Bet he was neglecting you even before you ran off. Is that why you had to leave him? He didn’t know how to treat a pretty thing like you?”
You would’ve given anything to make him stop talking, but you didn’t have a chance to try and bargain. While his fingers pumped mercilessly into your pussy, his mouth pushed slow, wet kisses into the rounded curves of your stomach, your midriff, your chest. He noticed it before you did; saw the thin trail of thin, near-transparent fluid running down the curve of your chest before you felt the telltale soreness in your breasts, managed to draw a connection between that and the shallow, airy moan Satoru let out as he ran his tongue over your leaking nipple. He took long, agonizing seconds to lick up the spilled milk before his lips found the closest nipple and finally, he latched onto you properly.
He was worse than your newborn. It was an awful thing to think, it was a terrible thing to have to think, but it was true. He was rough, and clumsy, and noisy – groaning as he lapped and sucked, eager to swallow down anything you had to give. Drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth, whatever pain he might’ve alleviated immediately replaced as the fingertips of his free hand kneaded into your swollen tit. By the time he pulled away, he was panting, scissoring open your pussy with enough force to leave your toes curling, your thighs twitching, little involuntary whimpers slipping past your lips despite your best efforts to choke them back.
He didn’t so much earn your climax as drag it out of you, piece by fractured piece, broken moan by stuttering convulsion. Your hands shot to his head, fingers soon knotted through messy white hair, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to mind, his attention devoted entirely to spreading open your cunt and milking your chest dry even as the last of the aftershocks faded and the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in. When he did pull away from you, it was with an exaggerated smack of his lips, a teasing nudge of the heel of his palm against your clit, a cocky smirk that reminded you of the expression Megumi would sometimes draw onto his doodled stick figures as they were hit with simplistic, two-dimensional cars or torn apart by black and white wolves. That was something you’d meant to bring up during your conversation with Satoru – Megumi’s tendency towards more violent forms of creativity, how it could be an early sign of emotional unrest in children too young to properly express themselves. Now, you could only wonder why he didn’t draw Satoru more often.
You were barely conscious by the time he drew back working one arm under your back and another under the bend of your knees. You let your eyes fall shut and, by the time you found the strength to open them again, you were on your back, dark satin sheets underneath you and Satoru above, snowy hair providing a much-appreciated barrier between you and those terrible eyes. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from meeting his prying gaze, and he welcomed your bleary stare, drinking you in for one second, then another, before dipping that much lower and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle – all slow tenderness and delicate warmth. Your mind flitted back to dark eyes and pitch-black hair, pointed teeth and deceiving smiles and you willed yourself not to think at all.
You heard fabric shift, felt his hands curl around your thighs. With an aching sort of slowness, he pushed your knees into your chest, leaving you spread open and vulnerable below him. You felt the head of his cock press against your slick entrance, heard a raspy groan trickle past his lips as he thrust into you – bottoming out in the same stroke.
He didn’t wait for you to adjust to his size. With his face buried in the crook of your neck, he rutted into you with short, brutal thrusts; never pulling out of you entirely, never happy unless his cock was abusing the deepest pocket of your wet heat. Immediately, it was overwhelming – too much stimulation being forced onto you too quickly with too little preparation. Your hands fell to his back, your nails biting into his skin as he fucked into you with a jagged kind of desperation. His cock scraped against something soft and spongy inside of you and you cried out, arching against him. “I can’t— It hurts, Gojo, slow—”
“C’mon, baby, you can do better than that.” His voice was low, airy. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, rolled his hips and pressed himself that much deeper into you. “What’s my name? Who’s takin' care of you from now on?”
It was more an act of desperation than anything; a broken plea that you could barely recognize as your own voice. “Daddy,” you sobbed, shrinking against him. “Please, don’t cum insi—”
You were cut off by an unabashed moan, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you. His hips pressed into yours, his thrusts growing shorter, more violent as he pumped something warm and awful into your pussy. At the same time, his thumb found your clit, pushing harsh circles into the vulnerable bundle of nerves and bringing your exhausted body to its second climax. Your vision burnt white as your cunt clenched around him, as his thrusts turned labored and languid, as collapsed against you – limp and boneless. Idly, almost lovingly, he nuzzled into the side of your neck, letting several seconds pass in silence before sighing, the pinnacle of satisfaction. Eventually, he picked himself up, resting his weight on his elbows as he cupped your face. “Pretty girl. I think the brat’s got a crush on you, too – always going on about his favorite teacher, telling me to keep my dirty hands away from you.” He laughed, shook his head. “Think he’ll be excited to have a younger sister?”
You didn’t answer, but Satoru didn’t need you to. He was already picking himself up, already pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck as he straightened his back, staring down at you with eyes that must’ve gone lifeless years ago. Eyes that, despite your best efforts to ignore their similarities, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d seen before.
“Speaking of, I think it’s about time we checked on our baby girl.”
~
Less than an hour later, you found yourself in your makeshift nursery; the corner of your bedroom occupied by a crib and a few shelves of miscellaneous supplies. You sat on the foot of your bed as Satoru held your daughter in his arms, rocking her as she sniffled and threatened to cry. You’d taken a taxi back to your apartment – called up and paid for by Satoru, of course. He’d given the driver your address before you so could so much as process where he was taking you, something you were currently choosing to ignore.
“She looks just like him.” His tone was light, his smile soft. He gestured to your daughter’s curly tufts of dark hair, her brown eyes – both only a shade away from black. “It’ll get worse as she grows up. He was always like that – couldn’t stand to let anyone else be the center of attention.”
You felt sick. Black spots still danced in the corners of your vision, and it took all your strength just to choke something coherent out. “He’ll never meet her. I’d die before I ever let him put his hands on my daughter.”
“I know, baby, I know.” He flashed you a grin, then turned back to your daughter. “I’m gonna keep both of you safe, be such a good daddy to both my pretty girls.” He pulled her that much closer to him, pressing a ginger kiss into her forehead. “You know, you really gotta open up more. I tried as hard as I could, but I don’t think I ever managed to catch her name.”
That made sense. You tended not to use it, when you could help it, when you were strong enough not to think about the man who’d given it to her – the man who’d tried to take yours, before you’d gotten away from him and and his monsters. You weren’t feeling very strong right now, though.
“Himari,” you mumbled, the sound of it alone still enough to steal the air out of your lungs, to leave the taste of blood heavy on your tongue.
“Geto Himari.”
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doberbutts · 5 months
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Curious about something you mentioned in your post last week, you said that in your opinion all drugs should be legal and I’m curious about how that would be a positive at all? Like I get weed bc it’s pretty harmless but when I think of drugs I think of cocaine and heroin, which have destroyed so many lives. If it was widely available wouldn’t that end up hurting more people than helping? That’s just my opinion but I’m curious on the other side
I do think all drugs should be legal. This is said knowing that addiction runs in my family and that the only reason my older sister is my *sister* is due to drug use and addiction. Otherwise she'd be my cousin.
Making drugs illegal does not stop people from getting high. It does not stop drug related crime. And it certainly does not stop drugs from tearing families apart.
Addiction is a symptom of a larger problem. Solve the problem and the addict problem goes away. Solve the addict problem and drugs stop ruining lives and destroying families and creating massive amounts of drug related violence. Places that have roled out decriminalization strategies effectively have seen an overall reduction in crime rates across the board, a reduction in recreational drug use, and a reduction in bloodborne illness like HIV. Creating safe needle exchanges as well as safe places to get high with medical staff onhand has also created a locale where very few people die from overdose.
Most people hear "decriminalize all drugs" and think I mean a free-for-all. I don't. I think the drug market should be regulated. I don't think you should be able to get ketamine or heroin over the counter at a walmart like you can get asprin. But I think it's time to stop putting people in jail for getting high.
My aunt tore her life and her family and her health apart for years while she was addicted to heroin. My sister, her daughter, needed to be removed from her care due to the amazingly bad choices she made as a mother due to her addiction and her prioritizing drugs over the health and safety of her daughter. My aunt has had multiple heart attacks from the damage the constant drug use did to her body.
My aunt is more than a decade sober and do you know why? It's not because she got a wakeup call when her daughter was taken away, because at the time she willingly and freely signed her over to my parents because that got her "out of [her] hair". It's not because she had a heart attack, because she went right back to it the moment she was out of the hospital. It's not even because she spent time in rehab and prison, because the moment she was out she was using again.
No, my aunt got sober because her life changed. She was put on a better pain management plan. She got out of her shitty marriage to her shitty husband. She completed some education to make her more hireable so she didn't have to rely on less than safe means of paying her bills. She reconnected with my sister and reforged their relationship once she was 18. She bought her own house. She found love with someone who didn't give a shit about her past and brought out the best in her.
My aunt was a deeply unhappy person. Heroin made life more tolerable for her. Until she couldn't tolerate life without it. Until she'd do anything, anything, to get her next high.
A lot of addicts are addicts because they are self-medicating for something else and their drug of choice has chemical properties that makes their brains crave it more. If you fix the "deeply unhappy" part, you create a healthier environment for that addict to take control over their life again. Without it, they are far more likely to continue to relapse.
Knowing this, why would I then want to add the threat of prison and jailtime- life-ruining things themselves- to an addict's list of concerns?
Look up rat park sometime. In the rat paradise, drugged water was freely offered, and occasional a rat here or there would take a hit or two, but rarely enough to even get high and almost never habitually. Addiction literally didn't exist even though the rats were taking addictive substances. But the rats in cages, seperated from each other, with no enrichment, crammed into small spaces and stressed to hell? Those rats took hit after hit after hit until they overdosed and died. The addict rats were deeply unhappy. The drugs were their only escape. The paradise rats had to be lured in with sweetened drugs to even consider and even then they rejected them. The caged rats did not need sweetner, even though the drugs made the water bitter.
If we can see such a stark difference in rats having their needs met vs rats experiencing isolation and stress, what would happen if we showed human addicts the same consideration?
I think a lot better results than continuing to jail deeply unhappy and desperate people for doing the only thing they can think of to cope.
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kaleldobrev · 10 months
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Old Man
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.
“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”
“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked. 
“Pie.” You said in unison.
“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.
“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.
“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.
“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.
“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.
“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then. 
“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.
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As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.
“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.
“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five. 
There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.
“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.
“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself. 
“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.
“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?” 
“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark. 
“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.
“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.
“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.
“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.
“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.
“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.
“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”
“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.
“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.
“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.” 
“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.
“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.
Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.
“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.
Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you. 
“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.
“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.
“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.
“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.
“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.
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There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”
“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.
“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.
“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.
“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.
“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.
“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.
“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.
“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”
“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.
“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age. 
“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.
“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.
“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.
“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.” 
“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.
“Not funny.” He responded.
“I’m not laughing.” You said back.
“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel. 
“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?
“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that. 
“Pull over.” Was all you said.
Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”
“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.
“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”
“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.
You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”
“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.
“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.
“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.
“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”
You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.
“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.
“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.
“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.
“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.
“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.
He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”
You smiled. “I love you more.”
He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”
“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.
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nellasbookplanet · 1 month
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I've been thinking about Mollymauk, as I'm periodically wont to do, and the fandom discussion about him as a moral compass. Because the interesting thing here is, Molly wasn’t a very moral character. He was an unrepentant scammer. He had no respect for interpersonal boundaries and would deliberately push and break them. Generally, he was an asshole. As far as actually having a strong moral stance I would say Fjord was the standout of early m9, and to some extent Beau.
But here’s the thing: almost all of early m9 thought of themselves as horrible people. Fjord had been bullied so bad growing up that he still dealt with self-hate from it, and now suffered from survivor's guilt to boot. Caleb had killed his own parents. Beau, while she hated her dad, also had internalized self-hate and on some level thought she’d been such a shitty daughter she deserved his treatment. Nott was stuck in a body she considered monstrous. Yasha had survivor's guilt and knew she’d done bad things in her blank spots. Even when they did good, they didn’t think of themselves as good. Most of them were suspicious and asocial and faced the world with the same kind of distrust they expected to be (and were experienced in being) met with. (Jester was an exception, an agent of neither good nor bad but of amoral chaos)
But Molly was different. He was outspoken about loving life and people. He wanted to spread joy, even to people he didnt know or had even met: he slipped coin into people's pockets, hid a silver in a tree just so some stranger would one day be happy to find it. He openly cared for the party early on; was one of the first to step in and help Caleb when he went catatonic in battle. Above all, Molly had rules: where everyone else would agonize over what was the right or wrong or smart thing to do, Molly loudly proclaimed we don't leave people behind, and we leave every place better than we found it.
But the thing about Molly’s rules was, they were largely a cover. While the rest of the m9 thought they were bad even as they did good, Molly thought of himself as good even as he did bad. He scammed people, but made it a good and memorable experience, therefore thinking he gave more than he took. He charmed Nott and Fjord without consent, and when confronted would claim it was to help them. Out of the group, Beau saw through this, not because she was a better person but because she was a cynic. She saw that he caused harm, just as she did, and was personally affronted that he still thought of himself as good and tried to leave people happy, whereas she deliberately left every place worse than she found it.
I see Molly as a moral compass of the group not because he was actually any more moral than them, but because they made him their template. He was joy and brightness and he died trying to save them because it was the right thing to do, and they all chose to honor him by emulating his rules more than Molly himself ever did, because to them it was more than just a cover, backed up by genuine moral thought and discussion rather than small gestures. He taught them that it was possible to be kind of a shit person and still be good, to still love yourself and others. The idealized Molly they created never existed, and finally died for good when they resurrected him in the end and were met with a stranger, who they welcomed with the same love and care they would've expected Molly to show them.
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thevoidstaredback · 26 days
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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
In Danny's defense, dying scared the hell out of him. Living in a house of ghost hunters was a bad idea, so he left. It didn't matter that they were family. He was a ghost living in a house of Ghost Hunters whose life's work was the very thing that killed him in the first place. He died turning on the portal his parents had spend nearly thirty years working on with two witnesses to his demise. The natural response was to destroy the portal and leave without telling anyone.
He didn't get to that point, though. The first few months after The Accident had been constant ghost attacks, one after another. Danny had tried t understand what was happening, but between his friends on some level denying his death, the ghosts attacking on sight, and the powers he was developing not getting themselves under control, he was reaching his breaking point.
On top of all of it, the portal destabilized.
No one had been in the lab, thank god, but the ghost portal collapsed in on itself. The running theory his parents had was that the ghost boy had been the one to break it. Danny's running theory was that the constant back and forth and overloaded the system. No new actually knew what had been the thing to turn it on in the first place, so no one could actually prove anything either way. At least, that's what Danny hoped.
Danny knew, in the deep recesses of his mind, what to do to get it working again. He knew what to do to keep it open if he so chose.
It had never been his choice in the first place.
Danny had known it wasn't entirely safe for him when the house started to turn on him, but that had only been solidified when the portal had gone down, Jack and Maddie Fenton doubled down on hunting down the Ghost Boy. He was the only ghost left in Amity Park, so he was the only one the trackers would lock onto.
Six weeks before he turned fifteen, Danny left his home. He didn't tell Jazz or Tucker or Sam, and he most certainly didn't tell his parents. Quietly, he packed his things - only those of which that would be easy to carry - and left. He didn't bring his phone or laptop with him. He thought about leaving his wallet, but figured that'd be useful to him.
The last thing he did before leaving Amity Park was go to the police station and tell them he was leaving willingly. He refused to elaborate as to why. They didn't need to know that. He didn't tell them where he was going, either, just that he was leaving.
It was an accident that he ended up in Bludhaven. Four weeks of traveling had tired him out. His powers only making it worse. He was low on money and food, he'd been sleeping on benches and in alleyways, his clothes were all filthy, he hadn't showered in days- He was ready to collapse.
Bludhaven, from what he understood, had a much smaller homeless population that her mother city Gotham, but it was still a lot of people. Particularly homeless youth. Danny was just another kid in an alley when he'd finally collapsed.
It took three days of sleeping behind a dumpster before anyone noticed him. In that time, he'd only woken up once. Not having eaten in a while, he had no waste to expel, so his body had focused on keeping he rested before allowing him to wake up. That was when he'd realized the actual danger he was in.
He had no idea if human weapons could still work on him or not, and he was not trying to figure that out any time soon. So, before the group of armed guys who'd just come into the alleyway noticed him, Danny let the invisibility wash over him before he flew up and away.
On the rooftops is where he found the city's vigilante. He was dressed in a black suit with blue accents and a black domino mask. His weapon looked like a broken bo staff and was strapped to his back.
Danny was not inclined to meet this man, but he'd never seen another hero in action before! Sure, he knew they existed, but he'd never actually gone looking for any. No one in Amity had, actually. It was a peaceful place. Well, until he opened the portal on himself, but that was hardly his fault.
Sure, he wasn't going to meet him, but maybe following him around wouldn't hurt? As long as he didn't get caught, he should be fine. It was only for the night, anyway. He'd probably never see this man again after this.
At least, that was the plan until he accidentally followed the man home at three in the morning. In his defence, though, he didn't know that it was that early or that Nightwing - as he'd heard a few guys call him - was going home! Regardless, he was going to take this to the grave. He was going to leave Bludhaven come dawn and he was never going to tell anyone the he knows where Nightwing lives.
Again, that was his plan. Danny ended up falling asleep on the rooftop opposite the building Nightwing lived in. He slept through the day, only waking up when rush hour foot and road traffic got too loud to ignore. Just as he was getting ready to leave the rooftop, he spotted movement in Nightwing's apartment.
Now, he couldn't even begin to say what had made him stay, but he did. He sat back down and watched as Nightwing moved around his apartment.
It was messy, messier than he'd have expected, but he wasn't one to judge. What really caught his attention, though, was the uniform Nightwing was wearing. Now that begged the question as to why the hero - vigilante was probably the better term here - fought crime at all hours of the day. Why approach the problem both legally and less legally? Why align yourself both ways?
Danny was always a curious boy when something sparked his interest.
He was swift in his movements as he pulled out the binder of paper and scholork he'd taken with him. Opening up to the first blank page, Danny started to write.
He was a hero, whether people thought of him as such or not. He only ever wanted to help. Maybe he could help this guy. Maybe he'd feel some kind of accomplishment if he managed to help Nightwing.
Step one is to observe.
Part 2 Part 4
Tag List: @flame-343
I need to point out that I have gone off of the original prompt, if that wasn't already obvious. In the og prompt, Danny is an adult. In this one, as I continue my take on it, Danny is a child. I didn't mean for it to happen, but the words don't listen to me, I listen to them.
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spookykoolkat · 7 months
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kinktober | grateful - j.m.
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kinktober day nine - cockwarming
pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader
wc: 2.17k
summary: being joel's girlfriend meant you saw sides of him no one else ever saw. one of them was how he just loved to be in your presence, to feel you, to touch you — to be buried inside of you.
warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS ARE NOT WELCOMED!!! NO AGE = BLOCKED. mentions of violence and sexual violence *if you blink you will miss it it's not a main theme!*, mentions if blood, dirty talk, p in v, cockwarming, slight somno.
an: gosh im so behind on this but i WILL catch up. i have a concert tmrw im very excited! also this one is very short, but i still love it 🥹
reblogs, likes & comments are so very appreciated i love u guys 🥹
⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧ °。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧
YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT it meant to be in a relationship – with joel. somehow, years after you got lost with the group you’d traveled with for months, you ended up in the midst of a bunch of men on horses pointing their guns at you. 
one of them being joel, and his brother. you were cut up, bloodied and bruised, in the freezing winter with hardly anything on. you remembered looking around you at the men that circled you, your hands raised but just barely because you had a stab wound on your left shoulder, crying. 
“please, i, i can leave just, please don’t kill me, i’ll go,” you cried frantically. 
every thought was going through your mind right now. you were half naked, shivering and near frostbite basically, the only thing warming you up would be the blood pouring from your wounds. there were only two things that could happen. 
they’ll trap you, have their way with you, then leave you for dead. or, they shoot you because they think you’re infected. 
“please don’t hurt me, i’m, i’m not infected, i swear.” you sobbed, looking down at your knees that felt numb being buried in the snow. 
you heard a shuffle, then something hit the floor, and the crunch of snow under a pair of boots. until you saw them right in front of you, and the person lowered themselves down to your height. 
the man tilted your chin up with his glove-covered fingers, and made you look at him. 
“you ain’t got nothin’ to be scared of, come on, we’ll get ya some clothes,” 
and that was it. joel was the one who kept you away from the men that stared you down like a piece of meat that day, he kept you away from tommy, who kept telling him it was a bad idea. but quickly referenced when he and ellie came into town, and they took them in like nothing. 
he kept you safe. and he let you stay with him for the time being, until you managed to find a job down at the local bar. then, the two of you kind of went your separate ways. you found a little house at the corner that tommy told joel to give you, and managed to live by yourself for the year you were there. 
joel didn’t want you on patrol routes, or to forage for things that the town needed. he needed you safe, even when he wasn’t there. 
you hadn’t talked to joel, but he managed to come to the tipsy bison every friday, sitting at the bar by himself and watching you. 
“you know,” you start as you are cleaning the beer glasses and wiping down the sticky table after closing. joel was the only one still there. 
“you come here every friday, ever since i started working here, but everyone i’ve ever heard from tells me you like to drink alone. in the comfort of your own house,” you said, wiping the bar down in front of him. 
“jus’ makin’ sure you ain’t in no trouble over here,” he mumbled behind his last drink, downing the rest of the mahogany liquid. he did a subtle look down your shirt as you wiped the bar down in circles, watching your cleavage come into view. 
you just chuckled. “i think i’ll be okay. i promise you’ll be the first one i go to if i need help.” 
that made a small smile tug on his lips. 
“let me walk ya home,” 
so he did. except he didn’t leave after that. that night, the two of you drank a little more at your place, and things got a little heated. in the midst of stretching you out for the very first time, he was whispering things you would’ve claimed were little nothings, but seemed as if he was declaring his need for you. 
“fuck baby, tell me, whose pussy is this? who else is stretchin’ ya out like this?” 
“pretty fuckin’ girl, i swear i’ll fuckin’ kill for ya, won’t let nobody come near ya,” 
“you ain’t leavin’ me, darlin’. this pussy is fuckin’ mine,” 
and you never did, and he always kept his promise. four years later, after him being the one to fix your wounds and give you clothes, a place to stay — you lived with him. ellie ended up being able to take patrol routes occasionally, moving into a small house with dina. she was even glad he had someone to look after him, to take care of him as he cared for everyone. 
joel had just came in towards the end of the night from patrolling with tommy, mumbling about how he’s sort of an idiot. you could barely hear his banter from your bedroom, ears perking up at the sound of the door opening and slamming closed.
“baby?” you called out from the bedroom as he walked to the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer. his eyes searched for you in the darkness of the living room, until he ended up walking to the back hall to the room you both slept in. 
his face softened, giving a little smile as he walked over to you and plopped on the bed next to you. the force almost made you drop the book you were reading, so you dog-eared the page and put it on the table as you turned to curl into him. 
“you smell like outside,” you said as you crinkled your nose. 
“fuckin’ tommy, stressin’ me out. he wanted t’ stay longer for maria just in case but it was a fuckin’ ghost town, nothin’ was even there, but he’s fuckin’ stubborn.” 
you just sighed and let your face rest on his chest as his arm threw over behind you, rubbing the side of your body. “well, you’re home now.” 
he sighed, taking a swig from the beer and moved to put it on the bedside table. he just threw his head back, used his forearm to cover his eyes and breathe in and out. you just looked at him, a little empathetic. 
you started to kiss his chest, the one with the dirty shirt he wore to patrol and up his body, to his neck and jaw. with the movements, you swiftly swung your leg over one side and straddled him, making his arm move and his head tilting down to get a look at you. 
you just watched him, watching you, and smiled as you sat directly on his groin. 
“i know you’re stressed, but,” you started and rubbed over his tummy and pecs, “i need you.” 
you said with lust in your eyes, and he just smirked as he watched you reach under his shirt to feel the warmth of his body. 
“my baby needs me, ‘s that right?” he asked lowly, his voice sounding raspy and gruff. his hands rested on the width of your hips, loving the way you were so curvy and plush for him.
you just nodded, and moved to where you could unbuckle his pants and try to shimmy them down with his help. after you got his pants and boxers to his knees, you spit in your hand and gripped the shaft of his half hard cock. 
“i love you,” you said as you started to feel him harden in your hands, his own hands moving to the tank top you had on and yanking the fabric down to see your breasts. 
“you know i love you, baby,” he said and reached to play with your heavy breasts, tugging your nipple and playing with both of them so he could watch them peak. 
“i’m just real tired, honey,” he started as he felt your grip on his cock soften, and watched your face turn with disappointment until he grabbed your face and made you look at him. 
“you wanna help me out, darlin’?” he asked and you nodded with your eyebrows furrowed, “alright then, come lay down right here,” 
he patted the side of the bed that you slept on, and you let go of his cock before pouting and sliding down to the side next to him. you faced the opposite direction, facing the wall as you heard him get up and start taking all of his clothes off before sliding under the blankets with you. 
“you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby, such a pretty fuckin’ pussy you have,” he said in your ear as he pulled you flush to his back, gripping your asscheeks before pulling one cheek apart from the other, feeling the wetness you gathered at your cunt. 
“always so wet f’ me, always so good to me,” he breathed on your neck. he felt your legs move apart so he’d have more access, and he just smiled, kissing on your shoulder. 
you didn’t know what he was planning on doing until you felt him guide the tip of his fully hard length up and down your cunt, still using one hand to move the thickness of your ass so he’d have access to your juices.
“joel,” you whined and moved your hips back to his, and finally felt his tip slip inside of you. 
“please,” you begged as he stretched you completely, feeling full even as he’s halfway. 
he lifts the blankets to watch you take him from behind, watching how his cock the was lathered with your juices as he thrusts softly into you before he bottoms out completely. 
but he doesn’t move, and instead kisses on your shoulder before going to your back, kissing there and wrapping his arm around your waist to rest on the fat of your tummy. 
“wait, joel i-” you started before he just squeezed your breast, leaving his hand to rest there. 
“mm-mm, we’re goin’ to sleep,” he said, but the feeling of his cock being buried inside of you was too distracting. you couldn’t sleep. 
“but joel,” you whined, your hand resting on top of his as you felt the heat of his breath against your neck. 
“go to sleep, i promise i’ll give you want you want baby, jus’ let me feel you like this, yeah?” he asks and you involuntarily moan a little, your movements of trying to fuck back on his cock failing. 
“i love feelin’ you like this, sweet girl. could be buried in this fuckin’ cunt for years,” he whispered as he squeezed your tit again, “you fit me so fuckin’ perfectly,” 
“i love when you fill me up, joel,” you whispered ss you hugged his arm, leaving kisses on it and making joel smile against your skin. 
“aw, my baby, loves when i just keep you on my cock, just so i can feel you. love when you keep me warm inside that little fuckin’ cunt,” he growled and you whined, trying to squirm and get some movement in. 
he just holds you tight, not letting you move. the feeling of his cock filling you to the brim made your cunt clench, and he groaned at the feeling. you felt like you were suffocating, practically feeling his cock in your throat as he just laid there behind you and kissed your skin. 
“go to sleep, baby. i promise i’ll make ya cum over n’ over til’ i gotta leave,” he said, and your heart skipped a beat at the proposition.you knew he was telling the truth, because he’s done it before. 
he’s made you soak the sheets before it even hit six in the morning, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you and ravishing in it. the best thing he could ever do with his time is watch you fall apart because of him, and make you feel good. 
so, you fell asleep with him still inside of you, feeling the dull throb of his cock and your cunt mixed together, the feeling of when he would move to pull you closer because he slipped out of you a little bit. 
he craved you, even in his sleep. 
and the next morning when he woke up, he was still buried inside of you and looked at where you two connected, seeing the pool of your arousal leaking onto him, and on the bed. 
so he kept his promise, and used the newfound arousal you built up to slide out of you, and slide right back in. until you woke up, and tightened on his cock as he fucked you awake. 
joel was obsessed with you, and that meant if he could have you sitting on his cock while he did his day to day things, he would. and he’s tried. but feeling you soak him, squeeze him and cry out for him made him feel a whole other type of gratefulness. 
you were grateful he was the one that took you in, he was the one that cared for you and protected you, and he was grateful that you let him walk you home that night, grateful that you only trusted him and not anyone else. 
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TAGLIST
@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @dirtydianaahah
let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist!
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clockwayswrites · 7 months
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Danny & Constantine, Orange, Butterscotch Ripple
@imbreonix Prompt fill set #4
It started out as a joke that turned into an actual event: Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It sounded absurd, of course it did. The Justice League was hardly work and certainly not a social club, but once it had been said people started to actually think about it. More and more of the heroes were taking on mentorship rolls for the next generation. While the heroes, of course, tried their best to provide what their mentees needed, they were still grown, experienced heroes and their sidekicks were kids.
Kids who lived a life that most could never understand.
Eventually it have been talked about enough in passing and over rushed meals and before meetings that it ended up on the agenda.
“Robin believes it would be beneficial for the younger heroes to know others in the same positions as themselves,” Batman had explained, as if that answered anything. The Big Bat wouldn’t even clarify who Robin was.
But there they were, Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It actually was a pretty nice event with snacks, drinks, and several enthusiastic sidekicks. It turned out Robin was Batman’s sidekick.
“Partner,” Robin insisted boldly, whenever the term sidekick was used within his hear range (which was disturbingly good).
The kid was the very opposite of Batman: bright, personable, and always in motion. Flash was more than a little concerned how quickly Robin and Kid Flash seemed hit it off. “They’re plotting something.”
“Hn,” was Batman’s reply, though he was watching the two whispering sidekicks too.
All in all it was a cheerful success.
It made John’s skin crawl. He jiggled the unlit cigarette in his fingers. He didn’t do social events, not outside of bars, and he really, really didn’t want to be here.
“We can just go back to the House,” a small, nervous voice suggested hopefully from behind John.
That was the thing, though, he wasn’t here for his own sake.
“No, we can’t,” John said with a sigh.
“We really can, though. We haven’t even talked to anyone. I bet they haven’t even noticed we’re here—”
“John! I did not think you would be attending,” Wonder Woman said as she approached, a smile in place. A good chunk of the founding members trailed after her.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, well,” John said with a little shrug. He didn’t admonish the kid for cussing, he didn’t have a leg to stand on there, but by Superman’s puzzled face the Big Blue had clearly heard it. “Figured I had better bring the kid.”
“The kid?” Hal repeated incredulously.
John reminded himself he really shouldn’t punch his teammates.
“Yeah, the kid,” John said. He stepped aside to reveal Danny who had been hiding behind him. “Geist, Justice League, Justice League, Poltergeist.”
“Um, who, Constantine?” Flash asked, sounding nervous.
John looked to his right, which for all appearances, was an empty spot of air. “Seriously, kid?”
“Sorry,” Danny whispered.
“It’s okay, kid,” John said, holding back a sigh. The kid was sensitive to that sort of thing, so John had been trying. (He still messed up plenty, but he was trying.) John looked back the Justice Leaguers and shrugged. “Ghost. Visibility is like that sometimes.”
“Ah,” Diana said with a sage nod. John admired the woman for how nothing seemed to phase her. She simply looked to where John had been looking and smiled. “Hello, Poltergeist. Welcome to Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day.”
“Partner!” a kid dressed like a damn traffic light called from across the room where he was talking to who was clearly a mini Flash.
“Oh,” Danny said. (It was clearly weirding out some of the heroes to hear Danny but not see him.) “I’m not… John doesn’t let me help that much? I don’t know if I count as a sidekick.”
“That’s because last time you tagged along you went intangible and fell through a bridge, kid,” John grumbled and then immediately felt bad. “You know we’re working on it.”
“Yeah,” Danny mumbled.
John couldn’t see Danny, not any more than the others, but he could picture the way the kid would be scuffing his toe on the floor, head down as he rubbed at the back of his neck.
John sighed. “Ain’t your fault kid, powers take time to master.”
“Robin,” Batman called.
Immediately the tiny traffic light was literately bounding across the space to stand next to Batman. The kid smiled up at the Big Bat like the man had hung the moon.
“Yes, B?”
“This,” Batman said, nodding to the empty space, “is Poltergeist. He came with Constantine.”
“Oh,” Robin said. He spun to face the spot of air and held out his hand without hesitation. “Come, Kid Flash and I are— um,” Robin shot Batman a look, “talking. You can join us! I bet you will be really useful!”
Flash mouthed the word ‘useful’ with a terrified look on his face, but no one actually said anything while Robin just stood there, smiling, with his hand out. And then Robin’s grin impossibly widened, his hand closed around nothing, and he took off across the room.
“…anyone else worried about that?” John asked after a moment.
“So worried,” Flash said.
“Hn,” Batman added.
“Right then. I need a glass of shitty punch to spike,” John said and abandoned his teammates to find the refreshments. Thank the gods, the fuckers, for hip flasks.
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“I live with a ghost now, Bats, you’ve got to up your skills if you want to sneak up on me anymore,” John said before taking another sip of his much improved punch.
Batman stepped up into the corner of John’s vision, which felt like such a Bat thing to do, so John felt the placement was very purposeful. John wouldn’t complain, it let him watch Batman without taking his his eyes off where Danny was sitting with Robin, Kid Flash, and Wonder Girl. Danny was pretty see through, but he was slowly becoming more visible the longer he spent in the company of the other teen heroes.
“How long have you had him?” Batman asked.
John snorted. “That’s what you go with? Not how it works to fuck a ghost?”
Hal and Aquaman weren’t as quiet as they thought they were, but maybe that was on purpose. Maybe they had wanted John to hear. He just hoped the kids hadn’t. He might not have a clean mouth, but even he had limits.
“He doesn’t have to be your blood to be your son,” Batman said in that certain way of his.
It had John finally glancing over at Batman. It was a lot to admit and John hated to be on uneven grounds. “How long have you had yours?”
No one would ever believe him, but John could swear that Batman almost smiled.
“Nearly five years.”
John hummed and took another sip of the punch. “Only six months, not even. And he’s not my son. Kid deserves better than me as a da.”
“They always deserve better,” Batman said, his voice a low rumble that John swore he could feel in his battered bones. “We just have to try to be better.”
“Yeah, well,” John said with a bitter chuckle. “I’m not you, Bats, I don’t think I have better in me.”
“Yes you do, you’re here, after all,” Batman pointed out.
John swallowed and looked back the kid, his kid. Danny was almost solid now. His white hair floated as he threw back his head in laughter at something Robin had said.
“Yeah… yeah I am.”
---
AN: So. So. This has gotten away from me. I blame Moku. So much blame. I can't promise I'll continue it but there is... there is a good bit of plotting TO continue it. It would be after I get done with City Pigeons Bleed Green though, as that's my current family feels fic.
If it gets continued we have a John/Bruce tired dads with issues slow burn fuck buddies to lovers, Danny and Dick being friends (and family), canon divergence, Tim joins the Bat family early, Bats with magic (and the world should fear them), and Alfred's judgemental eyebrow.
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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months
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I've found a few fics that hc that Astarion purrs when he's happy (Catstarion supremacy lol). Do you think he might if he felt safe enough with Tav?
I am 100% on board with that! I know that bats purr a little bit different from cats but it's not like bats=vampires.
Masterlist
Headcanons
Purring Astarion
Vampires can purr.
They purr when they are safe, happy, and content.
Like cats.
But have you ever seen a happy vampire?
Never. It's as rare as a vampire who can walk in the sunlight.
They suffer. They starve. They hate themselves.
They are tortured. Beaten. Hunted.
They are never safe enough to do so.
Astarion's life used to be hell. There wasn't a single good thing in his pathetic existence.
But he is free now. Cared. Loved.
He can do whatever he wants.
And he isn't alone. He has a person to hold, to talk to, and to share his feelings with.
Who can sit for hours playing with his curls while he trauma-dumps them about the most horrible events of his life.
Astarion learns about new ways of intimacy - bathing together, holding hands, cuddling.
One day, he wakes up after an especially bad nightmare. He doesn't remember what exactly he saw, but it was so unsettling he scratches his skin with his sharp nails.
When you return and see Astarion like that, you place him above you like a weighted blanket.
Pressing his head against your chest and stroking his back.
Your heartbeat and breathing soothe him, and he stops crying.
You lie like that for what seems like an eternity in silence.
He is happy.
At this moment, he realizes that the last six months have become a counterweight to two hundred years of misery.
Astarion relaxes and feels like falling asleep.
You hear a weird sound, as if there was a big cat beside you.
Purring.
You hug Astarion tighter and realize the purring comes from his chest and throat.
He probably isn't even aware of it.
The sound is nice and pleasant, but the very idea is hilarious, and you burst out laughing.
"What - What is this?" Astarion elbows up, staring at you. "Did I do something wrong?"
There is a weird sensation in his throat, and he shakes his head in disbelief.
"You were purring! Like a cat!"
Astarion is shocked.
It's not like he is fond of the idea that his body reacts so openly to feeling good.
(As if having an erection any time you do something playful wasn't enough to embarrass him).
But all his doubts fade into the background as he realizes how much you like it.
It's like having a big cat in your bed who doesn't try to run away if you squeeze it too hard.
And it's a good indication if Astarion really feels good or just pretends.
Sometimes, you think he feels off, only to hear soft purring from his chest.
Sometimes everything is great, but you don't hear this pleasant vibration.
And you also soon realize that if you make Astarion sit between your thighs, his back pressed against your chest, and start playing with his ears and curls, he immediately starts purring.
Safe, loved, protected. Like a happy cat.
Bonus:
You and Astarion have a dhampir-daughter
You two wonder how many vampiric traits your daughter has inherited.
Will she be able to walk on ceilings? Will she have fast regeneration?
You will find it later, but now you have a newborn girl, who isn't really fond of the idea of being pushed into this unpredictable world.
Once you finish the first breastfeeding session, the girl closes her dark eyes…
And start purring like a tiny kitten.
Tag list @tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy
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slayfics · 1 month
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Izuku overhears your late night call with Katsuki.
800 Words~
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Izuku shuffled in bed becoming conscious of his surroundings as he blinked heavily. His hotel bed was nowhere near as satisfactory as his one at home. Not that Izuku was one to complain- but he found it amusing that Japan’s top two heroes were placed in a shared mediocre hotel while out on a mission.
Shuffling around once more Izuku became aware of what had woken him at such a late hour. It must have been two or three in the morning, but his friend’s low voice surrounded the silent room. Trying not to make Katsuki aware, he peeped an eye open and was met with the sight of his friend on the phone. Even though he was across the room on his own queen-sized bed, Izuku could see the tension in the way Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his hand over his face.
It didn’t take Izuku long to guess who Katsuki was talking to. It had to be you, there was no one else Izuku had seen Katsuki speak to with such softness. Not to mention how strict he was with his sleep schedule. No one else would be lucky enough to get away with calling Katsuki at this hour.
“You don’t need ta’ worry about me- you know that” Katsuki spoke quietly into the phone. “No- I’m not going to hang up… I’ll stay right here till you’re asleep, ok? So quite down… breath alright…”
Izuku fought the urge to interrupt and ask what was going on. It sounded like you must have been upset on the other line. Despite his helpful nature, he resisted the urge knowing Katsuki would only be infuriated by his interruption.
“It’s fine I’m-… I’m glad you called… I missed you too,” Katsuki spoke into the phone, causing Izuku to hold back an audible gasp. The words sounded so foreign coming from Katsuki. He always knew Katsuki had an affinity for you but- it felt so surreal to hear it with his own ears. It was such a sharp contrast to the Katsuki he was used to.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called or- reached out to you since we’ve been gone… I’m just- not good at this stuff you know…,” a low chuckle came from Katsuki at whatever you said next.
“It’s… nice to hear your voice again…I’ll come to see you when we’re back ok? … Yeah, yeah I promise brat. Now sleep for me alright? It’s late as hell and I can hear how exhausted you are… Good just drift off- and I’ll see you soon,” Katsuki said.
Izuku wasn’t sure if the conversation continued any longer because the next thing he knew his alarm was buzzing and waking him up for their mission.
He and Katsuki both sleepily stalked around the room getting ready. Against his better judgment, Izuku had to ask.
“Hey… last night… were they ok?” Izuku asked.
“HAH?! You listened to my phone call?!” Katsuki yelled; the annoyance clear on his face.
“Sorry-,” Izuku stuttered. “It’s not like I had a choice though. This room they gave us isn’t very big!”
“Yeah, cheap asses- whatever… they are fine don’t ask me about it again,” Katsuki spoke sternly.
“Ok Kacchan,” Izuku spoke respecting his friend's privacy as he continued to get ready, but to Izuku's surprise Katsuki called back out to him.
“Hey-…” Katsuki exclaimed, keeping his gaze away from Izuku.
“Yeah?” Izuku answered back.
“… What…,” Katsuki groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “What the hell do I say to them? I… I don’t know how to do this crap.” He spoke. Katsuki knew he wasn’t good at showing affection. He hadn’t even reached out to you in the week that they had been gone- which caused you to call him in panic. He hated that he did that to you but- these things just didn’t come easy to him like they did to Izuku.
“Well- I think that depends. What do you want them to know?” Izuku asked, treading carefully with his friend.
“I don’t fucking know… I just want the brat to take care of themselves…” Katsuki said frustrated.
“That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing to say: Take care of yourself.” Izuku answered.
“Fine…” Katsuki huffed and typed a quick message on his phone before tossing it aside. “Let’s fucking get this mission over with- wanna go home.”
Izuku nodded in agreement.
The next morning you woke up to a text from Katsuki.
Take care of yourself, idiot.
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tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55
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