#almost typed infinity ear

[ironspiderfics]

this is supposed to be a vacation

for @meilz

by @iron--spider

~

Tony loves this kid.

It’s a montage at the beginning of a movie—Tony was crazy about Peter almost immediately, couldn’t accept it, his own damn daddy issues courtesy of Howard Stark, then he had to accept it because the kid kept trying to die, then things settled, they worked together, then they unsettled and the kid dissolved in Tony’s hands, and a year of heavy-drinking and nearly exploding himself in the lab wound up with all the dissolved people undissolved and the kid back and Tony in a hospital bed. Three-week coma. Whole screaming celebration when he woke up loud enough to bust his eardrums and restart his heart.

But Peter was there. Peter was there. 

Time slowed to a crawl, sped up and slowed down again, and Tony tried to recover. He knew Peter and his friends went on that European trip—he encouraged it even though Peter was worried about leaving after everything. May and Happy chaperoned, and then everyone nearly died because Quentin fucking Beck decided to roll out of Tony’s past to try and kill off someone he loves. He failed, because Peter is Peter, and Fury and Happy shut down the false allegations Beck tried to put out there before he was arrested, and everybody came home.

It’s been about two months, since then. And Tony had just gotten back on his feet a week or so before Peter left, and he’s even steadier now. Getting steadier by the day. 

But he loves this kid. More now, than ever. The son he never had. He loves May, he loves the kids that come along with his kid, he loves everything Peter has to say and everything he doesn’t, he loves keeping an eye on his missions, he loves the way he fits so snug into Tony’s little family. 

And he loves him enough to know when he’s crashing. When his eyes are tired and his patrols aren’t as succinct and punchy as they usually are. When he needs a vacation from his recent vacation. As if nearly being killed by some asshole in London is the vacation any of them need. 

So, Tony makes a couple decisions. 

After all the shit they’ve gone through, what the hell could go wrong with a break?

~

Peter knew Tony was planning something, because he isn’t secretive when he’s excited, and he found out what he was planning when Tony asked if Ned and MJ’s families would mind if he took them out of the city for a few days.

And about a week later, they were heading upstate to Mohonk Mountain House.

And Peter hasn’t been complaining, at least not to Tony, but his tiredness has been bone-deep since he got back from London. Since before that, really. Coming back from the dead can do that to someone, and he doesn’t even like to call it dead, and apparently they were all tiny particle souls inside that infinity stone but it doesn’t matter because that’s a whole other can of worms and he gets more tired and more weary every time he even thinks about any of that. 

He swung right into a wall the other day. Slap right into it. He almost broke his nose again. He feels like that might have been the moment Tony decided on this vacation—Peter could tell by the look on his face when he told him that he’d crossed some kind of line. 

They walk inside the main lobby of Mohonk and Peter keeps hearing Ben’s voice in his head. You’re gonna catch flies, Pete. But he can’t stop gaping at everything. Like…he’s been in a Hilton and this is so much better than a Hilton. 

“This place looks straight out of a Hitchcock movie,” May says, and she knocks Tony on the arm.

Tony laughs, and Pepper turns around, raising her eyebrows at May. “Let’s just hope we don’t have any Hitchcock-type events happen while we’re here.”

“What would that mean?” Ned asks, catching up to the group and trying to whisper in Peter’s ear. “You’ve seen Hitchcock movies. I remember you watched that weird apartment one a hundred times.”

“I love that movie,” Peter says. Rear Window. He never wants his leg to be broken. He knows he’d go insane just like that.

“You haven’t seen Psycho?” MJ asks Ned, hoisting her backpack higher on her shoulder.

Ned hums a little bit. “No. I know about it though. No crazy Grandmas for me.”

“That’s not what happens.”

Leather couches and tall ceilings and intricate carpeting and columns and everything somehow looks really rich but really comfortable at the same time—

“No,” Tony says, turning around and pointing at them. “No, no, and no.” He points at May too. “No. No Rear Window, no Psycho, no Vertigo—maybe a little bit North by Northwest—no, you know what, no. Not that either. This is going to be the lamest movie you’ve ever—this isn’t even gonna be a movie, there’s no—there’s no plot, this is just—a family video. A home movie. That’s it.”

Family video feels warm, and Peter grins.

“Of course, Mr. Stark—”

“It’s gonna be fine—”

“Absolutely nothing—”

“Listen, I’m hitting that buffet—”

“I’m just gonna sleep,” Peter says, as they approach the huge front desk. “Just the entire time.”

Tony smiles softly at him, and he winks. “You deserve it,” he says, and Peter can tell that he means it. 

They hear crashing, something that sounds expensive hitting the ground somewhere behind them, and they all turn around and see a bunch of employees running around to try and take care of it. A whole big production and two guys trying to hold up a big bear statue that’s trying to fall over.

“Okay, step to,” Happy’s voice says, and Peter hears him before he sees him, and then he breezes by, striding out in front of them. “Let’s go, come on, follow me, let’s get this in the books—”

“Oh, there he is,” Tony says, patting him on the shoulders. “There he is.”

~

Peter and May could never afford a vacation like this. They could never even afford to imagine something like this. Peter feels like they would have charged him if he’d even looked at photos of this place. A big, historic, mountain resort in upstate New York, on the edge of a cliff overlooking a lake? 

But now they’re here. They’re here with Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. Peter was able to bring two friends. Happy drove them all in a big plush rental van. They’ve got a line of suites on the sixth floor and they had steak and lobster for dinner on their first night. 

It feels unreal. But things feel unreal a lot. Especially things involving Tony, involving Spider-Man. Any of it. Like he’s having a long, prolonged dream before Ben wakes him up for school.

Peter stands on one of the terrace balconies with Tony while the others are arranging activities for tomorrow, and he stares off at the lake and the way the moon hits it. Light rippling on the water. 

“You really think you’re gonna sleep the whole time?” Tony asks, leaning on the railing. “Because nobody would judge you for it. Kayaks can wait. Ballroom dancing can absolutely wait, as can all of May’s Dirty Dancing comparisons, because I can feel them building up, like an aura around her—”

Peter snorts. “No,” he says. “But I probably will mostly just…relax. Take it easy. Just sleeping, no alarms—”

“You deserve it, like I said,” Tony says. “It’s thrilling to me that you’re even giving yourself a break.”

“Look who’s talking,” Peter says, giving him a look. “You were trying to get down to the workshop when your arm was still holding on by one string of muscle.”

Tony’s entire face contorts. “That is a terrible, disgusting image, Mr. Parker—”

Peter snorts again, choking on his laughter. 

Tony knocks him on the arm. “You’re awful, a menace, making fun of an injured old man—”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but it’s true,” Peter says, swatting him back, and still laughing. “You’re the one who needs—needs this. Like Happy always says, I’m a ‘spring chicken’, I—I can bounce back.”

“I had enough bedrest for the next ten years,” Tony says, and he’s giving Peter that look again. Concern. Like he’s trying to read his mind. “You—I know you like to act like it all doesn’t affect you, but you were going through hell on the daily before that purple asshole snapped his fingers. Then there was all that, and the right after that, and the coming back from that, and me wasting away in front of you—and then Quentin Beck flaunting his dickheaded tendencies on your school trip—that was supposed to be your relaxing time and it got away from you too and I just—like I said, you deserve your time. You need it. Don’t—you’re not selling yourself short if you say you need some rest. You put everybody first all the time, yourself last—you deserve to relax, that’s all.”

Peter blows out a breath. He doesn’t even really try to deny it in his head anymore. He doesn’t try to compare himself to other people who have it worse. He’s tired. He’s beat. He feels older than he is. 

Tony clicks his tongue and looks out at the lake. “I know this place is kind of old, kind of dated, rooms kind of look a little bit like grandma was head decorator, but—I, uh—I’ve got fond memories here. Mom used to bring me, when Howard was, uh…in some of his dicier moments. And sometimes we’d just relax, too. Recover from…knowing him.”

Peter is just kind of staring at him, because it always takes him off guard when Tony starts talking about Howard. They’re close enough now that he hears stories about his personal life all the time—his growing up, his insane college years with Rhodey, meeting Pepper meeting Happy and everything in between, but Howard is still…something they don’t really talk about, past flippant comments about Tony striving to be a better father figure than he ever was. 

“Then I’m glad you brought us here,” Peter says, his voice cracking a little bit. “I’m glad you brought me here.” And in his head he hears I’m glad you brought me back. Because he thinks about that all the time. 

Everyone’s back because of you, Peter. He never gave up on bringing you back. It was about saving you.

Tony looks like he’s about to say something else when there’s a bunch of rustling in the trees below them, and a loud thump, and more rustling. They both peer over the railing, and Peter can see the trees moving, but not anything else.

They share a wary look.

“Probably just a skunk,” Tony says.

“Oh, great.”

“Or maybe a band of feral cats.”

“Okay that’s better. Hopefully not too feral. Like, I hope they’re receptive to petting.”

They keep staring down at the trees, but it all seems quiet again.

~

Tony and Pepper have one room, Peter, MJ and Ned have the one in the middle, and May and Happy are on the end in a single room together even though Peter is refusing to acknowledge what that means or what might be going on in there. Tony mentioned that the rooms were dated, but they feel more like what a royal castle might look like inside, and for the longest time Peter is worried about wrinkling up the sheets. And then eventually it’s Ned’s snoring keeping him awake.

And then, when he’s finally mostly asleep—

“Peter.”

MJ’s voice. Peter’s in the bed with Ned and she got the other huge bed all to herself, but she sounds like she’s right next to him. He turns over onto his side, towards her voice, and then she’s—

On the ground right next to his face—

He startles a little bit, and she grabs his hand.

“MJ what—”

“There’s someone in the room.”

She’s whispering, and his heart speeds up a little bit. What the hell? There’s no way.

“Are you sure it’s not Happy?” Peter asks, as Ned lets out a rip of a snore. “Sometimes he likes to do perimeter checks—”

“It’s not Happy!” she whisper-yells.

Peter blinks, and she’s already pulling the sheets off him and yanking him out of bed, and he feels like he’d be more paranoid if something was actually happening, like he’d feel it pulsing and burning in his head, and she’s tugging on him and they’re stumbling over to the wall and—

“MJ—MJ—”

She flips on the light—

And Peter only sees him briefly—a man, standing over by the bathroom, and Peter barely gets to see what he looks like before the lights go out again. 

But he wasn’t Happy he wasn’t Tony he wasn’t supposed to be here, and Peter’s heart rockets into his throat and he hears MJ gasp and he hears feet moving and Ned is still snoring, and Peter rushes towards where the man was and tries to catch him tries to fight, but he only meets open air. 

MJ yanks the door open and she’s already running out into the hallway, yelling Tony’s name, yelling for Peter to follow her. And the hall light is streaming into their room now, and Peter looks around, breathing hard, trying to find the guy—

Nothing. Nothing.

Nobody’s here.

Ned is still snoring.

~

Tony stands next to Peter while the manager shows them the video footage. He watches their doors, completely still and closed from the hallway cameras, and then he watches MJ race out, and Tony and Happy run in a few minutes later. Followed by Pepper and May a few minutes after that. And then Ned finally looming out into the hallway, still half asleep.

“As you can see,” the manager says. “No one entered the room.”

Peter can feel Tony’s anger simmering beside him, and he takes it as a compliment that Tony is all-in on believing that they saw someone, even though he didn’t see him himself.

“Can I get the outside view again?” Tony asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

They switch to the outside view again, which they’ve already seen about three times. The cameras aren’t great out there, and Happy found out they’re in the process of an upgrade. Peter can see their floor from a distance, he sees a little flash of light that they can’t identify, and then nothing else. No one scaling the building. Not in a way they can see, anyway.

“When will the upgrade be complete?” Tony asks, his tone clipped.

“After your stay, sir, unfortunately.”

Tony huffs, and doesn’t say anything else, and he turns and takes Peter’s arm and leads him to the door. They walk out into the hallway, where MJ and Ned quickly back up.

“Don’t need to listen through the wall,” Tony says.

“Uh, we weren’t,” MJ says. “We were just—”

“Looking at the wallpaper,” Ned says. “It’s—so cool.”

“Uh huh,” Tony says. He moves so they’re in a little circle, and he grips Peter’s shoulder. “Do you want to leave?” he asks, looking around at the three of them. “Because we can leave. We can go somewhere else, figure something else out. Or we can move rooms, we can go down to the Grove Lodge so we can all be closer together—we can do whatever we want.”

Ned’s eyes go wide. “I mean, I didn’t see anything, I was sleeping—”

“It’s fine,” MJ says, fast, glancing at Peter. “I feel like we—Peter and I must have been—I mean, we’re—everything that happened, we’re always thinking about it, and Mysterio was about like—making us think we were seeing things that weren’t there or were there but different—it’s fine. Joint hallucination. Or maybe I made him think he saw something because I was saying I saw something.”

That would normally be a Tony joke cue, but he just looks at her intently. “You don’t have to make excuses,” he says. “I don’t want you guys feeling…unsafe. Despite the presence of, uh—enhanced individuals. Unnamed.”

“It’s okay,” MJ says, and she looks at Peter and nods. 

Tony looks at him too. And Peter knows that if he said anything about being worried, Tony would move them in an instant.

What the hell did he see? 

Were they really just tired?

Did he think he saw something because MJ thought she saw something?

“It’s okay,” he says, slowly, because…he isn’t entirely sure. But MJ seems sure and Peter doesn’t want to blow up the trip if they were just in a PTSD-addled nightmare. It is their first real vacation since that shit with Beck happened, it still feels like a knife in his gut sometimes.

“You sure?” Tony asks, and he shakes Peter’s shoulder a little bit.

Peter looks at MJ, and she nods at him. 

“Yeah,” Peter says. “I’m sure.”

~

They go back to bed after that without any more incidents, but Peter mostly stays awake, staring off into the darkness. MJ is awake too, through a lot of the night, and they text because Ned is sleeping and snoring like there’s nothing wrong and there’s never been anything wrong, ever.

I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

I wouldn’t let anything happen to you either. Nerd :)

Over breakfast, Tony lets them know that Happy is setting up Friday to do sweeps and is doing his own personal perimeter checks.

“I want him to enjoy his break too though,” Peter says, pushing his waffle around on the plate.

“He’s enjoying it,” May says, through a mouthful of eggs.

Peter frowns at her. “I don’t like that. I don’t—I don’t need—”

She shrugs. “Well.”

“Okay, Miss Kiss and Tell,” Tony says, laughing as Pepper sits down next to him. “But it’s good. He’s on it, and I’m on it too.”

“Here,” MJ says, coming back from the buffet and sitting down next to Peter. She puts a cinnamon bun on his plate, smiling at him. “They just brought them out. Ned is trying to barter for more.”

“They can’t deny him,” Pepper says. “It’s all inclusive.”

“Exactly,” Tony says. “And after last night, we should be getting extra—I still think they sent someone in to check on something and didn’t want to admit it. I’m not gonna go all I’d like to speak to the manager on them, even though I did—do that—but either way—”

Peter hasn’t landed anywhere on it yet. He keeps trying to think back on it, trying to remember exactly what he saw. His spider sense, newly minted, is usually pretty bang on if something isn’t right, if he feels like he’s in danger, but he’d just woken up, he’s foggy in the mornings sometimes—

He figures his mind was just playing tricks on him. But MJ too?

She rubs his leg, like she knows he's agonizing over it, and he reaches down and holds her hand.

“Okay,” Ned says, walking back over holding a plate. “They let me take five of them. They’re all really warm and gooey, I feel like this is a promising start to the day.”

~

Peter isn’t exactly a spa guy, so he doesn’t join May and Pepper when they decide to go there, even though he feels like it might help him if he ever figured out how to relax. But going there is supposed to help him relax, so how can he ever relax enough to get to the point of going there—either way, he goes out onto the lake with Tony and Ned and MJ.

MJ and Peter both get their own kayaks, and Ned and Tony are in a canoe.

“He wouldn’t get into one of these,” Tony yells. “Honestly, if Happy’s not still doing security shit, he’s probably golfing. He’s terrible at it and he never likes to do it when anybody he knows is around. I’ll message him in a little bit and make sure but that’s probably where he is. Ned. You have to keep that thing on just in case we turn over.”

Peter snorts, looking back at them, and he sees Tony adjusting Ned’s lifejacket on his shoulders.

“Happy’s just afraid of racing,” Peter yells, cutting his oar through the water. “MJ remember when—”

“Yes,” she says, a little out ahead of him, and she’s already laughing. “I don’t even know why he was trying to chase you in New York traffic. While you were swinging in the air above him. You didn’t have any cars in your way, nothing was stopping you—”

Peter snorts again, bending over and laughing a little bit. “He was so mad. He didn’t talk to me for a week. He made me talk to Friday specifically.”

“I gave him shit for that!” Tony yells. “He shouldn’t have been trying to chase you. The gas leak had nothing to do with you. He’s always tossing blame around willy nilly.”

“Yeah he still blames me for the time those columns collapsed on that old garbage building,” Ned says. “A line of code can’t do that, that building was old I didn’t do anything there was no way he should have yelled at me at all let alone for twenty minutes—”

“He’s just dramatic,” Tony says.

“He just gets worried,” Peter says, glancing over his shoulder at their boat. And Ned makes big eyes at him, because yeah, uh, they’ve seen why he gets worried. They’ve dealt with why he gets worried. And now, after last night, Peter feels like he’s making himself worried. He needs to stop, they’ve already moved past it, they’re still here, it’s all fine.

“Yeah, I imbued him with a worrying virus that will never be cured,” Tony says. “And now the next generation has to deal with it. Here we are.”

Peter shakes his head, smiling. He’s gotta relax. The sun is shining on the lake bright and beautiful, and May is actually getting a massage for the first time in years and everything is fine. It’s fine. 

He hears Tony chastising Ned again about his life jacket, gently, and Peter starts rowing out and around the outside of the lake. They’re the only ones out here right now, and he wonders how long that’s gonna last. He wonders if that’s something the resort set up, because it’s Tony, because of what happened last night, because Happy’s been intimidating people, and Peter simultaneously appreciates it and balks against the special treatment. But he’s with Tony, he should know it’s gonna happen.

He feels like he’s going a little faster than he should be going based on the way he’s rowing, like he’s really moving along. He glances over at MJ and she’s even further away from him, moving in the direction of the hotel.

“We’re not racing yet!” he yells, and he feels like Happy—constantly worried. But he’s worried about her in a different way and actually starting things with her in Europe made the whole thing worth it in a way, and now they’re together and it’s amazing but he’s just so worried all the time.

And now he’s stopped rowing all together, and he should be slowing down, but he’s still moving. Moving….fast. Maybe even getting faster.

Should that be happening? He doesn’t really kayak. He shifts around a little bit and looks down, and feels a little bit tucked in here. 

“Hey!” Tony yells. “You’re moving like you have a motor on you!”

Peter’s brows furrow, because he is, and he’s not rowing, and he should have lost any propulsion at this point, and he looks up and he sees MJ looking back at him, and she’s not moving anymore, and he glances back and both Tony and Ned look concerned—

And he gets the worst feeling in his chest, like an alarm, like his spidey sense but more warped and panicked, and he tries to get up without toppling over, because the kayak is still moving for no reason, speeding along and it’s going faster and faster. He drops his oar, and balances precariously for a few seconds before he leaps into the water.

Bubbles all around him, and muffled calls of his name—

And he’s only submerged for a couple seconds, because of the life jacket pulling him back to the surface, and he comes up just in time to watch the empty kayak lift up into the air, careening into the forest and disappearing into the trees. 

And he floats there, treading water, staring.

“What the fuck?” Ned yells. “Peter? Peter?”

“Peter!” MJ yells.

“Pete, we’re coming!” Tony yells. “Hold on!”

But Peter is just sort of. Staring. Staring off, at where the kayak disappeared. He stares over there. He stares. 

No thoughts, just. Insane.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Peter asks, his voice squeaking. “Is that—MJ you should probably—you shouldn’t be in there if you’re not, uh, prepared to go—flying—did anybody see it explode? Did it explode? Or did it just shatter, uh, well, wooden—wooden kayak, was it wooden? Or plastic? Either way I bet it’s not a full kayak anymore—”

He feels himself being lifted out of the water, and it’s Tony pulling him into the boat. He doesn’t know how they got here so fast but to be honest a kayak just went full fighter jet on him so he can’t be that confused. 

His shock has him gripped and he just sort of lays there like a rag doll as Tony and Ned pull him up, and he sees MJ rowing over to them. Thankfully, she’s still in her kayak, and it’s not—flying through the air.

“Hey, hey,” Tony says, once Peter isn’t in the water anymore. He’s got both arms around him, and Peter is laying against his chest, and Tony is patting his cheek and trying to peer around and meet his eyes. Ned has his hands on Peter’s knees and he’s just staring at him. 

“I just got a defective one,” Peter says, pointing over at the forest. “It’s okay. It was just—a flying one, we didn’t make sure we didn’t get a flying one. I hope MJ doesn’t have a flying one and it’s just not like. On a time delay I don’t know. MJ, just—hurry over here—” He waves her over. He wants her to hurry up. 

“Peter,” Tony says, and he pats Peter’s chest. “Are you alright? Did you twist anything when you jumped out, can you breathe—”

“Are kayaks supposed to do that?” Peter asks, feeling like he can hear his own voice echoing everywhere. “I didn’t think that was, uh, the case—”

“It’s not the case,” Ned says. “No. It’s not. It’s not the case.”

“Peter.”

MJ finally rolls up alongside them—

“I think you should get out of there,” Peter says, pointing at her. “It’s unsafe—”

“Something is going on,” MJ says, and she’s not looking at Peter. She’s looking at Tony.

~

Tony loves this kid, and this is supposed to be a fucking vacation. Tony loves this kid, and he believed him when he thought someone was in his room, even if the hotel was trying to sway them away from the idea. Tony loves this kid, and he just had to watch him abandon his kayak because said kayak was lifting off and destroying itself somewhere on the property. And kayaks don’t just fucking do that.

Tony stands close to Happy, well into his personal space. He’s got his hands on his hips, like a stern stance is gonna bring him any closer to an answer, and Happy sighs.

“I’ve done ten sweeps,” he says. “There’s nothing going on. There’s nobody here that isn’t supposed to be here. We even looked at the remains of the goddamn kayak and I didn’t find anything wrong with it.”

“There was something wrong with it,” Tony says. “It was flying. It was flying, speed wise, without Pete even rowing, and then it was flying, literally, after he had to abandon ship.”

“I know. It was in a million pieces.”

Tony sighs. They moved down to the Grove Lodge after it happened. Nobody told Pepper and May why, because Peter was insisting on not telling May, and he was also insisting on not leaving even though Tony wanted to leave, because if they left then they were leaving danger behind for the poor unassuming Mohonk guests. And if they leave, danger will probably follow them anyway, and Tony doesn’t know what move to make. 

He’s upset, because this was supposed to be a relaxing break for all of them, but especially for Peter, after everything he’s goddamn gone through. He’s upset because this place felt like his place, his haven, a place where he could get away and be secluded and safe, and now something is pursuing them here. Something is trying to hurt them.

“You haven’t found anything?” Tony presses. “Nothing?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Happy says, and he glances back at the front door of the lodge again. “I’m still looking, I’m not giving up, and I think we should be better located down here because we rented out the whole house and I told them not to come in for room service or cleaning or anything. I know we lose the nice high-up view—”

“It’s fine,” Tony says, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s afraid to even be discussing this in public. Anybody could be anywhere listening.

He doesn’t like feeling like he can’t protect these kids. 

“It looks like they’re targeting Peter,” Tony says, as quietly as he can. “And I can’t tell if that’s because of me, that they think—I mean the whole goddamn world thinks he’s my love child at this point, thinks May is my secret mistress or the sister of his secret mother, God knows, I don’t know what the most recent story is. But I can’t tell if they’re targeting him because of me or because of the other thing—”

“And the other thing is worse—the spider thing—”

“I didn’t specify on purpose, Hap,” Tony says, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Right, right—the innocuous other thing—”

“We’re lucky we got out of Europe with the other thing intact—”

“Yeah,” Happy says, shaking his head, and Tony wishes he had been there with him, had been there period. He would have torn Beck in half had he laid eyes on him. 

Why do they always target people he loves? Why not him? Blow him up. Kidnap him. But he guesses he’s been there already. He guesses they’ve done all that and it’s old hat to these assholes to go to him directly.

But this could be about Spider-Man too. There could be people that know who he is. People always find out, no matter how hard Tony tries, and Peter has made plenty of his own enemies. His own gallery of rogues looking to take him down.

“Just don’t tell May, if she asks,” Tony says.

“Oh, and don’t tell Pepper either?” Happy asks, in that stupid voice he uses to make fun of Tony. Tony glares, and Happy glares back. “They know by now something’s going on. They’re not dumb. They’re just not saying anything. But May will beat someone to death with anything she can get her hands on and so will Pepper, so maybe we should be sticking close to them.”

Tony sighs. “I just wanted—”

“I know—”

“And now—”

“I know,” Happy says. “We’re on it. We know it’s real, now, even if these people won’t cop to anything. I’m in their walls. Literally. Maybe I’m doing some things I shouldn’t be.”

Tony steps up onto the porch. “Don’t even tell me.”

“I won’t. But maybe I am.”

~

“Ned, why are you in here while I’m in the bathtub?”

“She’s in here!”

“I’m dating her.”

“Wow, that’s great,” Ned says, not making any move to get up from his spot on the gold lounge chair. “That’s great, I see how things are going. I see what direction we’re heading in.”

Peter scoffs. He warmed up a long time ago, and he’s getting really pruny, but he doesn’t want to get out just yet. He feels like something is gonna happen if he gets out. Like it’s all gonna start up again and maybe the house is gonna explode or their fridge is gonna grow arms and start trying to fight them or something. 

And he isn’t lazy. He’s always ready to fight.

Maybe he’s a little lazy. But not usually. He thought Europe was gonna be a Spider-Man free trip and look how that turned out. And he thought this was going to be calm and relaxing but now it’s become suspicious. And worrying. And he’s torn between leaving and staying and telling May and not telling May and he doesn’t know if she’s in danger too and sometimes he feels like everybody would be safer if he lived out in Alaska somewhere and nobody knew him.

Peter sighs, and MJ rubs his shoulder. Ned is still giving him that look and Peter ignores that look. He’s never been in a little claw-foot tub like this before. Tony doesn’t even have these in the compound. And a bubble bath? He hasn’t had a bubble bath since he was a kid and Ben was still alive. It almost distracts him from… whatever the hell is going on here.

“We’ve got two more days,” MJ says. “And we’re sticking it out.”

“We’re sticking it out,” Peter says. “I got my webshooters, I guess I’ll wear them if we go hiking tomorrow.”

“Someone is gonna push you off a cliff,” Ned says, raising his eyebrows. 

“We’re all going together, so nobody is gonna push anybody,” MJ says. She leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of Peter’s mouth. “Okay let’s leave so he can—get out.”

They both get up, and Peter watches as they argue.

“Oh, you’re not gonna help him?” Ned asks.

“Oh, you’re not?” MJ replies, nudging him as they move towards the door. “I thought that was your job, guy in the chair—”

~

They have dinner in the main building, and Peter watches his back. He only jumps once, when someone drops a tray full of plates, and he winces at the shattering and runs over there to help clean it up before they usher him away. They visit the horses in the stables, and Peter checks every nook and cranny to make sure somebody isn’t hiding in there. They watch May and Happy bust into the late jazz class that’s going on in the ballroom and Peter forgets to do anything because he feels like his face is going to catch on fire from all the blushing.

And he remembers to be paranoid when they get back to the Grove Lodge, and he can tell May is suspicious and they’re all watching him like hawks and he gets worried that Tony is the real target of whatever is happening here and he’s just a distraction. 

He can’t let anything happen to Tony. He can’t let anything happen to any of them.

Or maybe nothing is happening. And nobody was in their room. And the kayak was just—Parker luck. Too much strength, or something. 

He wakes up around three in the morning because he can’t stay asleep, and he sits down in the ‘great room’ and stares out into the darkness of the night. 

“Don’t jump,” Tony’s voice says, but Peter jumps anyway, twisting around and seeing him on the stairs. “You jumped! I said don’t jump! You heard me, I said it—”

Peter snorts, shaking his head. “You can’t just tell me not to jump and expect me not to jump—especially if you’re stepping out of the shadows—”

“There’s no shadows,” Tony says, stepping off the landing. “No shadows. I’m fully illuminated—”

Peter sighs. “You can’t sleep either?”

“Nah,” Tony says, walking over quietly. “Sleep and I, we have a very contemptuous relationship.” He shakes his head. “I just feel like shit because you can’t have a normal vacation. Whatever the hell is or isn’t going on here. You just deserve—Jesus, a full day, at the least, without something happening you have to question.” He sits down next to Peter and lets out a sigh.

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

“I mean—it might be. We’ve seen Europe as an example of very much my fault.”

Peter narrows his eyes at him. “That wasn’t your fault either. You know it wasn’t your fault, idiots blaming you for their own stupidity is not your fault—”

A huge crash outside. It sounds like one of those big weird planters falling over and knocking into the other planters and then it sounds like a bunch of feet shuffling and this isn’t Parker luck, this isn’t a hallucination, this isn’t a kayak doing non-kayak like things—

They both leap out of their chairs. The noises don’t stop and Tony is immediately stepping in front of Peter and holding his arm out, as if to shield him.

“Kid, go back upstairs—”

“No,” Peter whisper-shouts, grabbing his arm as the two of them move forward very, very slowly towards the back porch doors. “You almost died recently—you’re wearing pajamas and a house coat—”

“You don’t even know what a house coat is—”

Another crash, more skittering feet, and Peter focuses—he can hear separate heartbeats from the hearts he loves in this house. Two of them.

“Tony I’ve got my webshooters on—”

“That doesn’t matter you’re wearing pajamas too you’re not prepared—”

And when they’re just close enough to open the door, there’s a flash of bright white light. And Peter closes his eyes against it, and he can feel Tony turning around, trying to block him from it, and it must be more than just light because he hears a loud bang and the windows are shattering and it feels like a cataclysmic boom is pushing them through the air. The two of them fly backwards, and hit the far wall, and the last thing Peter hears before his head snaps back too far is 

GOD DAMMIT ALFIE YOU’RE TWO SECONDS TOO EARLY WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS JUMPING THE—

~

Peter gasps awake. His gasp echoes, and he sits up, and looks around, and he’s…nowhere.

He scrambles to his feet. He’s alone, and he’s nowhere, there’s nothing but blackness and his ears are popping like he’s high up and he sees—

He sees—

A kayak? Flying through the darkness? 

He watches it, cascading like a majestic bird, and he stares at it, and then it just—blinks out of existence. Like it was never even there.

Maybe he’s just dreaming. Maybe he never even woke up and went downstairs and talked to Tony. Maybe none of that happened at all. Maybe he’s still asleep and Ned is snoring somewhere and MJ is saying not beets in the salad in her sleep again and maybe—

God dammit, Alfie, I swear. I swear I’m gonna whack you in the head.

Peter spins around, in the complete darkness. He can see himself, his own body and his hands and his pajamas and his webshooters, like he’s got a spotlight on him. “Hello?” he calls. “What the hell is—whoever that is—”

And then the London Bridge appears huge and massive above his head and he starts to duck, nearly collapsing in on himself, and there’s no way this is actually happening this isn’t real and he shoots a web at it and it goes right through it and it hits—somewhere—somewhere in the darkness, it sticks, it—

ALFIE I THINK THEY’RE BOTH—

I KNOW IT I CAN TELL OKAY I’M NOT MORONIC—

It clicks in Peter’s head. This is someone using Beck’s tech. It’s someone using Beck’s tech. That’s what this is. This is some idiots using his tech and not knowing how to use it properly and—

Peter starts yelling. “Whoever you are, you’re—you’re not good at this—this isn’t gonna work out for you—”

The bridge disappears, and Peter starts running. His spidey sense is going berserk, and he can’t tell where the danger is, what direction, how far. He can’t tell what’s underneath his feet, it feels—crunchy, and a little old, maybe? All he knows is he needs to get the hell out of this illusion. It feels unstable.

He starts shooting his webs everywhere, and most of them fly away without hitting anything, and that makes him wonder where the hell he could be with so much space—

STARK IS DOING SOMETHING WITH HIS AI—

Peter’s heart lurches.

“Tony!” Peter yells, still running, and he holds his hands out and tries to find something, anything, and he shoots webs fucking everywhere, and then—

SHIT—

He runs right into someone. And they push him off, and then he gets a brass-knuckled fist to the face before he can get a hit off of his own. He stumbles backwards through the sharp pain, wrestling with the instinct to just fight even though it’s only darkness all around him and he can’t see who the hell he’s fighting with. 

Instead, he spits out a line of blood and keeps running.

Pulsing, face pulsing, beating with ripped skin and metal—

A massive kayak blips into the air briefly, and then it disappears.

Peter narrows his eyes, shaking his head, and what the hell is with the kayak—

He runs smack into something, like a train going accordion against a wall, and he stumbles backwards again, clutching at his crushed nose and trying to stay on his feet. The punch and the goddamn running into whatever that was has him dizzy, has him mangled and seeing stars in this manufactured darkness and then he hears Tony hollering his name at the top of his lungs—

“Peter! Peter!”

He sounds like he’s behind him—

“Tony!” Peter yells, all nasally. “Tony! Hey I’m over here—”

He turns around, changing his trajectory. And the darkness blips, breaking in large pixels, and Peter keeps running towards Tony’s voice and the darkness blips again, turns bright white, and then—

The illusion, or lack of one, breaks all at once, and Peter can see—

He’s on the roof of the main Mohonk building—he can see the lake, and the forest, and the mountains, settled in the calm of the night that feels decidedly not calm for him in particular, and he skids to a halt because he’s nearly running off the roof—

And he feels someone grab his arm and tug him back, and he spins around and it’s Tony, thank God it’s Tony—

“Hey!” Tony yells, and Peter looks at him and grabs his arm and they both look up and—

There are just two guys standing there. Two guys, both on the shorter side, definitely unkempt, and they’re holding a little gray box and they’re both just hitting it and hitting it and hitting it—

Peter aims his webs and just starts shooting. He feels like he shoots the most amount of webs he’s ever shot. The two guys fly backwards and get stuck to one of the upraised red parts of the roof, and they’re both gritting their teeth and trying to get out like they’re Scooby Doo villains.

“They must be associated with Beck,” Peter says, trying to catch his breath. His entire mouth tastes like blood. “They’ve gotta be.”

“I figured, with their shitty illusion attempts,” Tony says, and he sounds angrier than Peter’s ever heard him. He glances at Peter, starts to glance away, but then he looks at him again, fast, his brows furrowing severely. “Jesus Christ, you’re—bleeding everywhere—”

“Yeah, it feels—it doesn’t feel good—they didn’t hit you?” Peter asks.

Tony takes Peter’s chin gently, tilting his head and wincing. “No,” he says. “They didn’t goddamn hit me—”

“Well, the nose was from—running into something—I think that, uh, I think that’s a chimney over there, I think I ran into it—you didn’t run into anything—”

“No, I didn’t—”

“Oh, that’s great—”

Tony looks like he’s about to breathe fire, and he lets go of Peter and starts stomping towards the webbed bad guys.

“Why the hell would you be loyal to a moron like him?” Tony asks. “Beck? He couldn’t even keep a job at Stark Industries—”

“Yeah, buddy, because you stole his idea,” one of them hollers. They’re both still wiggling around, trying to get out.

Tony sneers. “He worked for my company executing an idea I designed and commissioned and decided to weaponize it when it was created to help deal with trauma and mental health—have you never had a job, an occupation—you know what, I don’t care, I don’t care—”

“Well he didn’t say that, he didn’t say any of that exactly,” the other guy says, the one with the longer hair. “He just said—”

“Nothing he says is true,” Peter yells, wincing when he touches his nose. “That guy is a liar, and a freak, and you believed him enough to follow us on vacation and—screw up every attempt you made to kill us—it was one of you guys in my room—”

“No, that was just testin’, that was just—we was just testin’, it was—you guys acted really dramatic—”

Peter scoffs. “Dramatic?”

And the two guys start giving each other nasty looks, even though they’re webbed shoulder to shoulder. “Maybe if you hadn’t dropped that dart gun in the lobby when they first got here—”

“Maybe if you hadn’t fallen out of the tree—”

“Maybe if you had made the goddamn kayak explode instead of fly—”

“Stop!” Tony yells, cutting his hands through the air like an angry teacher. “Stop. Stop. I’ve never wanted to hear Boston accents less. Stop. You’re arrested. We’ve arrested you.”

“You can’t do that, the Avengers aren’t cops,” the shorter one says. He’s got a tattoo on his neck that says GOLDBARES with a Haribo bear icon and Peter squints at it and he feels like his entire face hurts worse just from seeing it.

“You’ve committed several crimes,” Tony says, still pointing at them. “It’s—my personal security already—”

There’s a click. A very loud click. And both guys clam up real quick.

“What was that?” Tony asks.

Peter’s spidey sense is—ratcheting up, clear into his teeth—

“Tony!” he yells, because it feels like something is coming, and, just like in the Grove Lodge, there’s a big boom and they’re blown backwards by a seismic wave—

And they’re launched off the roof, and it feels like they’re moving in slow motion, through the dead dark of the night and the reflection of the lake, and Peter screams like a moron. He just screams, and then he shoots a web right at Tony and pulls him in with it, and then he shoots a web at the building and swings back around with him. 

They don’t land well, because Peter’s brain is on the backburner and there’s nothing on the front, and they roll in a heap, Peter tucking his face into Tony’s shoulder. When they come to a halt Tony pulls back, sitting up and touching Peter’s cheek.

“You in there?”

“I’m in there. Here,” Peter says, and he feels like he’s bleeding worse, somehow. “Did they blow up? Did those guys blow up? It sounded like they blew up.”

“We didn’t blew up we’re still over here but maybe I wish we woulda blew up because—”

And they start shouting at each other, but Peter tries to tune them out.

“Thank God you brought those things,” Tony says, tapping Peter’s wrist. “Thanks, bud.”

Peter blows out a breath, shaking his head and still just. Laying there. “Oh yeah, no problem. All good, just—completely normal.”

Tony sighs, and his eyes cut to the side. “Any other late traps ready to explode?” he yells, over his shoulder.

They stop arguing with each other. There’s a brief silence. 

“Uh. I honestly got no idea. We just brought the whole bag of tricks, I don’t know. There’s shit everywhere.”

Tony looks at Peter, slowly shaking his head.

“Fantastic,” Peter says. “Wonderful.”

~

“So, you weren’t in there watching us when we were getting our nails done in the spa?” Pepper asks. “I thought it was weird. I told May it was weird. That was these guys—”

Tony scoffs, and he feels like he instantly gets a headache, a migraine—

“Of course I wasn’t—of course—you thought I was just standing there? Staring at you in the spa? You didn’t think that was out of the ordinary—”

Pepper gives him a look, and Peter laughs from the hammock behind them.

“Yeah, when I went to get my nails done later you kept walking in and out,” Happy says. “But I thought you were just—I don’t know what I thought. But then you told me about the kayak thing later and I thought—well—I attributed it to that.”

“Happy went and got his nails done,” Ned whispers, somewhere behind Tony, too. “We could do that?”

“Who’s stopping you?” MJ says, quiet.

“Well, the whole—the whole situation stopped me, I guess, but I didn’t really think about it—”

“I’m glad it wasn’t you staring at us,” May says, standing near the railing and peering out into her binoculars. “Pepper said it was normal, but it was concerning me.”

Tony glares at Pepper, but she just bats her eyes at him like the picture of innocence.

“Sometimes Peter does that to me,” May says. “Just stares at me from behind a Lucky Charms box in the kitchen. That’s how I know something’s wrong.”

Tony snorts, and he turns around as soon as Peter starts protesting.

“I do not!” Peter says, shifting around in the hammock. “I do not do that.”

“It sounds like something you’d do,” Ned says.

“You’ve done that to me,” MJ says, clearing her throat.

Peter huffs, and everyone laughs at him, and Tony tries not to laugh too hard, because this started with his own wife acting like she thinks he’s capable of acting like some weirdo who stands around staring at people.

Tony sighs. He turns around, walking over and peering down at Peter. He braces his hand on the tree his hammock is attached to. “How’s the nose?” Tony asks.

“Broken.”

“It’s not broken anymore, we reset it.”

“It knows it was broken. I know too.”

He’s still got the butterfly bandages on the bridge of his nose, and it’s bruised and angry looking. He’s got a burst blood vessel in his eye, and the white part is dipped with red. Tony feels like shit because he got out of the whole ordeal relatively unscathed. Just a few bumps and bruises. Some whiplash. But Peter broke his nose again.

They hiked up to the Sky Top Tower, and the kids wanted to hang out once they got up here. They all thought Peter had earned the hammock. Happy refused to come, and he’s in charge of the security situation, anyway, so he couldn’t exactly abandon it to do a hike he didn’t want to do. 

They had to clear the whole damn resort out to get rid of any remaining traps and illusions. Tony had to bring in a whole team. Rhodey made fun of him on the phone when Tony told him, laughing for a good five minutes.

And sure, it’s stupid. Those guys are stupid and they had no idea what the hell they were doing, they couldn’t even attack properly. But that’s what happens when stupid people follow more powerful stupid people. They hold grudges. They make up shit in their heads. They cause problems.

And it’s never really funny when Peter is bloody at the end of it.

“I feel like I’m sinking,” Peter says, his brows furrowing.

He reaches out his hand, and Tony takes it, and he pulls him out of the hammock as MJ and Ned push on his shoulders. Peter groans like he’s a hundred years old, and Tony claps him on the shoulder.

May looks away from her binoculars. “How you doing, honeybunch?”

“Fine,” Peter says, letting go of Tony’s hand. “Incredible. Amazing.”

“Just a normal day for a hero,” Pepper says. “MJ, you’ll get used to it, May, you’ll never get used to it—”

“And Ned,” Ned says to himself. “You will be there every step of the way.”

Tony looks at Peter, and he wants to apologize. For all of it, for being a hero at all, for the goddamn radioactive spider at Oscorp and everything that came after. For stupid morons like Quentin Beck, who know the quickest way to hurt Tony is to attack this kid he’s nearly adopted as his own.

He doesn’t know what the hell to say, because Peter wouldn’t accept his apologies anyway. He never would. Peter is just appreciative of every moment. Even if the moments aren’t ideal.

“We’ve got the whole place to ourselves,” Tony says. “How about we have a pie bar when we head back down there? I can tip the kitchen staff two hundred percent when I ask. I don’t think anybody would be pissed off.”

He sees May smiling softly at him over Peter’s shoulder. Trust in her eyes, even after all this bullshit.

“Can there be…at least four key limes?” Peter asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Four or five,” Tony says, ruffling his hair. “Or six or seven. Depending on the number of ovens in the joint.”

Peter grins at him, still bright and lively, despite everything.

Maybe they can salvage this vacation yet.

#iron dad #iron man #irondad #irondad fic #marvel fic #peter parker #spider-man #tony stark #iron dad fic #works by iron_spider

[smudgedvolt]

I just need to get this off my chest, below contains cropped pics from the Paragons CN Spirit World profile intro thing just in case + me rambling and speculating about Spirit World related content:

(I apologize in advance if this isn't the easiest to read through, I've never really rambled here before.)

SO. If there's one world I keep looking forward to, it's Spirit World because there are just so many things that intrigue me. But other than the outfits and myths they seem to take inspiration for (which I may speak about some other time) each of the Paragons has a symbol attached to their intro profiles that relates to them in some way. Oddly enough, these symbols are missing from the JP and ENG versions of their profiles, and I can only wonder why.

Almost all the symbols have elements that are also present in their outfits/have meaning tied to themselves.

Here they are:

Lars' symbol, contains shapes that look like a rising sun + wings that tie into the jewelry he wears (very much related to Ancient Egypt)

Alkaid's is shaped like the head of a stag, with hornlike protrusions and most notably the star in the center that makes up the head shape.

Ayn's has flames (which are present around his body) and clawlike markings that tip-off to his wolf design (the design itself also does look a bit like a wolf head) There's also a Penrose triangle shape, but that's tied more closely to another version of himself...possibly for another time.

Clarence's contains feather-like shapes, dangly rectangular shapes with those circles behind it that are similar to the earrings he dons, but most importantly there's that serpent that snakes around into something of a figure 8. Infinity? He's frequently associated with the passage of time (wanting things moments to last forever, centuries of waiting etc)

But then there's Cael's, which initially stuck out to me as I was looking at these symbols because I could not pinpoint anything on his outfit or character that could possibly give me a hint as to what it was trying to show.

A circle with odd symbols and an X in the center?

Then I realized. Take a good look at this.

The Wheel of Fortune Tarot Card:

IT'S THE SAME THING. Albeit with some artistic liberties, but everything from the symbols on the outer side of the circle to the x shape is present.

So I immediately went to go check the meaning behind this card to see what this could mean. I'm no Tarot expert, so I will link the resources below so you can have a look for yourself:

UPRIGHT: Good luck, karma, life cycles, destiny, a turning point

REVERSED: Bad luck, resistance to change, breaking cycles (From here)

Now, I can only imagine what will happen in Spirit World because I don't really like to spoil myself ahead of time. But if Cael becomes a Love Interest at this stage of the story, the upright meaning of this card would apply, and it really does fit him.

What I'm worried about is the meaning if you read it reversed. I wonder what will happen in this world, and what it could mean for MC and Cael, as well as the others.

I typed this all in one go and I feel like I could articulate myself better but I got too excited. If anyone is interested in more of my thoughts I could try to whip out some more things I've been sitting on.

#lovebrush chronicles #not art #cael anselm #lars rorschach #alkaid mcgrath #ayn alwyn #clarence clayden #ramblings #lbchronicles #spirit world #lbc #I've been discussing this with a friend for a while now but that one tarot card post pushed me to create this #I just want to let everyone know and also maybe my obsession over this game won't be for nothing #if you have stuff to add I'm all ears

[ajaxslibrary]

Foolish One - Gojo Satoru x Reader

a/n: this little piece popped into my head listening to Taylor Swift, and each bit is themed after the lyric that prefaces it

-

My cards are on the table, yours are in your hand

I've long given up hiding my affections for Satoru. Most people don't recognise my reactions and the ones that do won't be fooled by my faking. So, I give up.

I cut my eyes from my book to him when he walks in the room. I tilt my head when he speaks. I set aside what I'm working on when he tries for my attention.

Satoru though treats me the same as everyone else. Carefully guarded, a jokester, a tease.

Chances are tonight you've already got plans, and chances are I will talk myself to sleep again

Of course, Satoru is going out drinking with some of our co-workers. I should've known.

It's okay. At least I have my own company. That's all I'll ever truly need. Bound to always have only my own words, thoughts, and company. I've gotten used to it.

I'm okay on my own.

That's what I tell myself at least.

You give me just enough attention to keep my hopes too high

"(y/n)-san! Oi~! Wanna try this mochi? I got it from the new place in Shibuya!" Satoru jogs to catch up with me on my walk to the train station. "It's matcha with red bean filling."

"I- yeah, sure. I like mochi."

An understatement. Mochi is my favourite sweet. Satoru knows that. He never offers me anything else. Unless he takes me to ramen for a meeting.

He holds out a piece of mochi for me and I take it tentatively. I love mochi, I love red bean paste, but... I don't like matcha. I take a small bite.

"This isn't matcha."

"Is it not?"

I can tell from the small smirk that Satoru already knew. It was just sweet red bean mochi, my favourite, dyed a matcha green.

I can't help the way my heart starts to beat a little faster in my chest.

"Is it good? Is it good? I haven't tried it yet, does it have the mochi master seal of approval?"

I feel heat rise to my cheeks at the thought he wanted to know what I thought of the mochi before trying it himself.

"It's good. The last place was better, but this is really good."

"Score! Thanks, (y/n)-san!"

And the voices say "You are not the exception, you will never learn your lesson"

A little box is waiting on my desk. Tied up with a pretty bow, the tag of my favourite sweet shop on one of the tails. My heart starts pounding when I hear my phone go off with Satoru's text tone.

'You like your present?'

A giddy smile crosses my lips and I race to open the box. Three red bean mochi and three sesame mochi. He knows me too well.

I whip out my phone and type up a quick response, thanking God that the racing of my heart and the happiness overflowing from it can't carry over text.

'Yeah, thanks'

I know he doesn't love me the way I want him to. He's the strongest, surely he's above love.

But oh, I can hope.

Foolish one stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love that ain't never gonna come

It's a dance we do every day. I check my email, half-hoping to see a beautiful, melodramatic, wonderful love confession from Satoru, he swings by my office to say hi, I try to keep my caged heart from escaping through my throat as he smiles at me.

And oh what a smile.

It's a dance we do every day. I've long memorised its steps.

Because every day my half-hopes are disappointed. Every day he says hi and gives me a beautiful smile that makes my heart beat faster. And every day it takes everything in me to not profess my undying love to Gojo Satoru.

Don't know what to call this situation but I know I can't call you mine

I take a deep breath as the weight of Satoru almost presses into me. Contact undoubtedly prevented by infinity. I glance over to look at him and he grins.

"What are you working on?"

Satoru is draped over me, his lips right next to my ear. I'm hyper-aware of him now.

"Um, I'm working on, ah, working on a lesson plan for one of my students."

Satoru shifts as I talk so one arm is dropped down the front of my torso.

"(y/n)-san," I can hear the frown in Satoru's voice when he says my name. "Do you not trust me?"

I do. I trust you with my life. That frightens me.

"I trust you." Completely. Utterly. Wholly. Entirely. I trust you.

"Why did you get so tense the moment you knew I was here?"

I hadn't noticed. But I know why.

"Because if I let go then I will break. I will not be a burden."

He does not need to know how I love him. I know. And that is enough. That must be enough.

'Cause when my head is on your shoulder it starts thinkin' you'll come around

I lean my head onto Satoru's shoulder on the train. Well, almost. He laughs at me.

"Tired?"

I don't give a proper answer, just a quiet mumble. Then I feel a tingly warmth cover my body, and my face makes contact with soft, warm fabric.

"Sleep well."

I think I say thank you. It must have sounded strange, because Satoru chuckles before responding softly.

"You're welcome. Now rest, I can protect us both."

You will learn the hard way instead of just walking out

The dance stops abruptly. Satoru doesn't swing by my office to say hi. And he doesn't smile at me when we pass in the hall.

There's mochi on my desk though. From the new place in Shibuya. I take a tentative bite of one, and it's matcha with red bean filling. Maybe last time was an accident.

I can't stand matcha.

Satoru knows that.

When my phone goes off with his text tone, I glance down, ignoring the warning beats of my heart like an ominous drum.

'I'm sorry'

Oh you haven't written me or called but goodbye's screamin' in the silence

I break as soon as I'm home. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to vomit. I want to cut my hair off. But more than anything else.

I want to die.

There aren't many things I hate in this world.

I hate matcha. I hate failing. I hate watching a student ignore my teachings. I hate feeling disregarded. I hate when people go back on their word.

But more than anything else, I hate goodbyes without words.

And there are many things I love in this world that cannot love me in return.

I love sweet red bean paste. I love mochi. I love ramen. I love pocky. I love coffee. I love seeing someone progress. I love being protected. I love protecting others.

And more than I love anything else, unfailingly, unswervingly, unconditionally.

I love Gojo Satoru.

#i like sadness #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst

[bullet-prooflove]

Home Time: Jimmy Lanik x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @annieradcliff @cosmic-psychickitty @infinity-mars @juliannatryon @elizabeththebat @legit9thlunaticwarrior @depxiety @thebejeweledwatercat @iworldlywriter @weiwei0210 @caffeinatedwoman @whateversomethingbruh @slytherqueen14 @handsupforamiracle

It can be hard to pry Jimmy away from his work, you learn that in the early stages of the relationship. He wears the burden of his responsibility like a shield, building walls out of the tasks that need doing. It’s a way of protecting himself, from intimacy, from heartache. If he’s too busy to date, then he doesn’t have to put himself put there, he doesn’t have to be vulnerable.

The problem when it comes to being with you is that he lets his guard down, he finds himself telling you thinks that he hasn’t spoken about his hears. How he almost chose culinary school instead of med school, how his father always wanted a doctor in the family, how sometimes he dreams about the people he’s lost in the ED and out.

When you pop your head into the doctor’s lounge, he’s typing his notes up on the computer. He doesn’t look up, he just keeps his head down, his fingertips tapping away over the keyboard. When he hears the door click shut, he thinks you’ve left but then your hands come to rest upon his shoulders, those diligent fingers seeing out the knots in his muscles and he stops because that sensation, it feels so damn good.

“It’s time to go home.” You tell him, your lips brushing over the back of his head.

He tries to protest, he really does but the tension he carries on a daily basis, it starts to ebb. He starts to feel himself relax.

“Come on, grab your things.” You murmur into his ear, and it sends a flush of heat rushing through his body because he knows what usually follows when you use that tone of voice. “I’m going to take care of you tonight.”

Love Jimmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#doctor jimmy lanik #jimmy lanik x reader #jimmy lanik #jimmy lanik x you #james lanik #james lanik x you #james lanik x reader #doctor james lanik

[crowhyun]

Level Infinity; Chapter 11

Losses are a tragic part of everyone's lives, but only in the real world could they be mended. One too many tragic losses send each poor soul into extremely new situations.

Chapter Genres: Horror, ANGST

Series Genres: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Smut, Gore

Warnings: Gore, Angst Heavy, kind of a lot goes on, so buckle up :DD

Words: 4k

Main Characters: (Y/N) (reader), Soobin (TXT), Mark (NCT), Beomgyu (TXT), Taehyun (TXT), Arin (NOT from OH MY GIRL, character was made by a lovely follower), Huening Kai (TXT)

A large hand wrapped around your wrist, tight and strong as steel, slim fingers holding onto you with the determination to never let go. In a desperate scream for help, you held on tightly, eyes shut, trying to block out the impending danger behind you and the cries in front of you. What was once a blessing was now a curse, and it was as if you were trapped in between heaven and hell, wondering if you could leave a part of yourself in both if it meant you got to live.

You didn't dare to turn around, even if you could. The wings behind you almost served as a barrier to the horrors that ran your way. What felt like hours was only a few seconds, as if this treacherous world only wanted you to feel the pain for even longer than you've endured.

Opening your eyes, you made eye contact with Soobin, tears flowing down his face, an image that you hoped to never see again. It was as if this exact event had happened before, but this time, Soobin was determined to save you, to stay by your side until neither of you could take it anymore. No one else knew what to do, no one else had any more hope, but could you blame them? The blessing of your wings was now a curse, and it was something that you were going to pay for.

Mustering up all of the strength he had, Soobin pulled you in towards him, nearly yanking your arm out of its socket.

"Soobin, stop!" You heard, but you couldn't tell who it was, and neither could Soobin. It was as if the two of you were in your own little dark world. Not letting go of you, Soobin leaped towards you, wrapping his arms around you in a...hug? A last attempt to bring you to him?

Mark panicked, not wanting to possibly lose two of his friends in a tragic event, so he lunged forward, grabbing onto Soobin, and pulling him back in a surprise show of strength. But, Mark didn't realize just how tightly Soobin was holding on to you, as it was a grip as strong as the resentment that Soobin felt for not being able to save you the first time the both of you were in this predicament, but he knew...he was going to be your hero this time, and the both of you were going to make it out alive, even if you lost something big along the way.

It only happened in a few seconds, but with the strength of the two men pulling you inside of the building, your wings could no longer endure the pressure building against the metal frame of the doorway, and a searing pain pierced through your whole body as each metallic feather fell onto the ground, one by one, leading to your wings ripping free from your back and falling limp and lifeless onto the ground. You fell into the building, falling onto the floor and you blacked out from the immense pain and trauma, worried cries falling upon deaf ears. There was no type of magical healing that could keep you from feeling every bit of pain that coursed through you, and you couldn't even fathom the thought of being alive for much longer.

Soobin watched in fear as your bloodied metal wings rested on the floor outside of the door behind you, and the noise of the monsters chasing you died down. No one ever saw what the monsters looked like, or exactly how close or far away they were from you, but they were gone now. Mirroring your dejected wings, you lay on the floor, barely breathing and eyes closed. Your heart rattled your bones, trying hard to keep you alive, but you had no more hope left.

"(Y/N)?" Soobin called out to you, voice hoarse and cracking. He was so scared. Scared that you'd die, and what made him feel worse was that he was scared if you lived. It was his fault, everything was. You were strong, he knew that, you would've found a way to save both yourself and your wings, but he let his selfish desires get in the way, and in an effort to keep you by his side, he tore something away from you. You'd hate him forever now. It should've been him. He was better off dead anyway, all he did was hold everyone back.

"She's losing blood-" Mark said, rushing to get inside of his tattered bag for anything to help. 

"I have bandages," Arin said, taking them out of her bag and throwing them over to Mark. He bent down, grimacing at your wounds, hands shaking.

"It's okay, (Y/N), I got you." Mark whispered to you, but you could barely make out what anyone was saying, eyelids heavy and ready to just let go. "You'll make it. I know you will. You're stronger than anyone else here..."

"Is...is there even any use?" Beomgyu spoke, and everyone looked at him. "I mean...look at us. There's so much more to go, so many levels to go through, barely any of us will make it in the end, if we're being honest."

"Gyu?" Taehyun furrowed his brows.

"No, seriously. Where even are we right now? How do any of you know we're safe enough to be here?" Beomgyu huffed out. He was worried, you all were. Goosebumps plagued everyone's skin, your hearts were beating a mile a minute, and...you guys were just standing there? He checked the back of his hand for any idea of where you guys were. "Level 609. Does anyone have an idea of where we are?"

"Beomgyu, to be so honest with you, right now, I do not give a fuck." Mark grunted, working to wrap your torso with the bandages, albeit messily, as he had no experience. "My priorities are set on making sure (Y/N) is going to make it. I could care less if we all die right here, right now, but if we die together, that's all that matters."

"Don't...don't make it seem like I don't care about her." Beomgyu said. "She's my best friend, we've been best friends since we were in diapers. But don't think any of us are going to make it out if we just keep getting hurt along the way."

Mark sighed, finished with the bandages, and he looked up at Beomgyu. "My main goal was never to make it out of here. I don't know if that's even possible. But, I am here to help, because someone helped me, and I'd be damned to leave that someone behind."

Your world started to return to you, eyesight clearing up just a smidgen. You coughed, groaning at the pain received just from that. 

"(Y/N)!" Soobin exclaimed, bending down to face you. He was too scared to touch you, afraid that he'd hurt you even more. "Are you alright?" Of course you weren't alright. Why would he even ask you that?

The tight compression from the bandages made your wound hurt only a bit less, but it was enough to have you return to your senses. Hopefully, your wounds would heal as much as your leg healed, but you didn't know if that could even be possible.

"Where...where are we?" You asked, coughing out your words.

"Level 609...but I have no idea what's on this level." Mark said. "Would you be able to stand?"

You lifted your head slowly, looking up at your surroundings with blurry vision. It was dark, but you could still see, and it looked like you were in a neighborhood community center of some sort. The entranceway had barely any furniture, but there was a large and colorful mural on the wall of a...clown? 

You then realized that you didn't answer Mark's question. "Oh, uh...I c-could try." You said. You weren't ready to go just yet, and you weren't going to make this stop you. Despite only having the wings since you got here, you still felt empty. It was like there was always something inside of you that was ready to unleash itself whenever it deemed necessary. It had a life of its own, and now it was gone. You looked back at the open doors behind you, staring at your lifeless wings. It was like an old friend had died, and that hurt more than the pain in your back.

You closed your eyes and looked forward, not bearing to continue seeing your lost wings. With all of the strength you could muster up, you started to lift yourself off of the floor. The strain on your muscles made you cry out in pain, and Mark rushed to help you up.

"I got it." You said, shrugging him off of you, and standing up on your own.

"A-are you sure?" He asked, holding his hands out, just in case you were to fall. You didn't feel too worried, your legs were completely fine, why would you be? You didn't dare to stand straight or to move around too much, and even if you didn't want it to show, you knew it was going to be a problem. Everyone knew that.

You noticed how Soobin remained behind Mark, avoiding eye contact, but you didn't know why. Looking at Beomgyu, he acted the same way. Yeonjun looked the most worried you've ever seen him, and it was a surprise, given his...history. 

"You'll be fine, (Y/N)." He suddenly said as he noticed you were looking at him, frowning. "Suck it up."

"Don't be so soft, Yeonjun." Arin said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, then turning her attention to the wings behind you. "Things happen for a reason. They might not be much help along the way, but what matters is that you're still here."

"Hm." You hummed, a permanent frown on your face. "Let's just not worry about me. We can't sit here any longer." Looking at the back of your bloodied hand, you see the number 609. You had no idea what to expect. You assumed that you were in some type of arcade of sorts, but the menacing look in that clown's eyes told you that you weren't going to have any fun.

"Does anyone know anything about level 609?" Taehyun asked, looking between Beomgyu and Mark.

"Uh..." Beomgyu cleared his throat. "The games I've played haven't delved this far into the backrooms."

"This is where my knowledge ends, unfortunately." Mark frowned. "Let's just stick together, and if any of us sees anything off, make sure we all know. (Y/N)...you okay to go?"

"Yes, Mark." You said with a bit of venom. "Stop asking me if I'm okay. I'm still standing, I'm alive, aren't I? So, let's not loiter around where we could possibly be killed in a split second."

Your slight outburst made Soobin want to crawl in a hole and rot there until his inevitable end. This was his fault, and you were angry at him, but instead of taking it out on him, you took it out on everyone else, right? You thought he was too weak and sensitive to handle it if you snapped at him, that must be what you assumed. But he couldn't find it in himself to prove that assumption wrong, and that's why he was just a burden to you.

"Okay, sorry." Mark said, brows furrowed. He understood where your annoyance came from, and he felt guilty at that moment for his slight frustration with you. He was only making sure you were okay, because he wouldn't know what to do if your pain got the best of you.

Yeonjun brought out his flashlight, flickering it on and pointing it towards the dark hallway ahead of you guys. "Let's not waste anymore time."

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

Why were your feet wet? Looking down at the uncomfortable sensation of your wet socks, you noticed a thin sheet of water flooding the area around you as if there were leaky pipes running through the walls. Was it there before? You didn't remember the wet floors when you started this trek through level 609.

Yeonjun was ahead of everyone else, but still close enough to not cause any alarm. With a confused appearance, he shone the flashlight on the wall of the hallway, revealing the words, "DON'T LAUGH" painted in a cheery yellow. A shutter went down your spine, also reminding you of the pain from your ejected wings.

By now, the wet footsteps would've alerted any entities if you were there, but, weirdly enough, it seemed pretty empty. 

"What the hell does any of this mean?" Yeonjun grumbled.

"Walking straight isn't helping." Arin said. "First rule that I've learned since being here: take any and all turns that you can."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Mark asked. "Some turns and entranceways lead to immediate death."

"That always depends. There's no absolute way that you could really know, but I've apparently been doing a good job, since I'm still here." Arin shrugged with a smile. "Let's turn there, Yeonjun." She pointed ahead at a turn into another hallway, and once walking a few steps ahead, Yeonjun shone his flashlight in that direction, then stopped, eyes going wide. Upon seeing his face, Arin's smile slowly dropped. "...Yeonjun?" Being met with a few more seconds of silence, she gently pushed past Mark in front of her to see what Yeonjun saw. 

You saw her face drop even more, and her eyes widen. Whatever it was that they saw, they've never seen it before, and it wasn't dangerous enough to attack immediately. You had hoped to any higher entity that what was in that hallway wasn't a smiler. 

"What is it?" You whispered. Arin gulped.

"We should probably not go that way." She said. Annoyed with the mysteriousness, you went yourself to go take a look. Right at the end of the hall was a clown. Not a fake clown or a scary clown, but a clown with a bright yellow smile painted on its face, and a rather joyful jester outfit on. It was staring right back at you, eyes blinking, but face nearly frozen. 

"Is that...a person, or...?" You spoke. You didn't feel afraid, you were just confused. The clown moved, and you gulped. With a little audience watching, the clown did a silly dance, which, out of everything, seemed to scare you the most. 

"I think it's trying to make us laugh." Beomgyu said.

"Would it kill us if we don't laugh?" Arin asked.

"The wall...it said not to laugh." Yeonjun replied, eyes still stuck on the clown who hasn't ceased in its dancing. After a few more seconds, he tore his eyes away from it, looking at everyone else. "It doesn't seem to be dangerous. If we get closer, we could test the waters and maybe even walk past it."

"Are you sure about that?" A low, quiet voice spoke, and you realized that you haven't heard Soobin speak in a long time. "Are we making risks to know more about the level, or are we making risks to get to the next one?"

"Both can't exist at the same time?" Yeonjun asked, eyes lidded in annoyance. 

"He makes a good point." Mark said, receiving a death glare from Yeonjun. "A-and so do you, but...let's just make risks to get to the next level for now."

"So, we're still going this way." Yeonjun said. "If anyone doesn't want to follow, you don't have to." And with that, Yeonjun started his way down the hall, getting closer and closer to the clown. Each one of you followed without a trace. With every step closer, Yeonjun slowly pulled out the gun from his bag, and you slowly noticed how the water was now at your ankles. Did the water rise with time or does the water get higher at certain places in the level? That, you didn't know.

Yeonjun was now about two feet away from the clown, yet the clown was still dancing. With just enough space to get past the clown, each one of you slowly passed it, the clown turning to keep facing you guys as you passed it. When you were able to pass it next, you noticed its eyes. They were blue, with little specks of brown littering the perimeter. You noticed how its iris's very slightly jiggled, and how pupils dilated upon making eye contact with you. Your heart nearly stopped, as you felt a sudden wave of devastation. It was like...a real, conscious person was trapped in the body of a joyful clown, and inside of that body, the person was screaming for help, and you saw it all in its eyes.

Not wanting to see anymore, you shut your eyes tight, quickly passing him, and daring not to look at the clown for much longer. You wondered if anyone else saw what you saw, but no one seemed as devastated as you were. Shaking your head to try and get the image of sorrowful eyes out of the forefront of your mind, you continued along with everyone else.

"Guess it won't hurt us after all." Arin said. "Good call, Yeonjun. Everybody in for making any and all turns, now?"

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

This level was simply heart-wrenching. How could anyone feel like laughing when passing by the numerous clowns who were screaming for help upon deaf ears?

The "joyful" clown wasn't the only clown the seven of you came across. Along your way, more showed up, harmless to the body but harmful to the soul. You still wondered if anyone looked into their eyes and noticed the pain, or if it was only you.

"What does this level even mean?" Beomgyu said. "The clowns are slightly creepy, but they won't hurt us, and there's absolutely no clue on how to get out of here."

"Well, that seems to be a running theme across all of the levels." Mark said. "The second part, I mean. There's never a clue on how to get out, most of the time, we've just gone to the next level by accident."

"That is true..." Beomgyu said.

Yeonjun huffed aggressively, shining his light on two more clowns blocking the hallway. He wasn't the only one annoyed, as you felt the water start to creep up to your knees, now.

"This might be a little late, but does no one else notice how high the water is getting?" You asked.

"You know, that is such a valid question, why is the water getting-" Arin started, but was interrupted by Yeonjun's frustrated grumbling. 

"Now, they're just getting annoying," he said, flickering the flashlight on and off as if to get the clowns' attention. "Do something else other than dance, at this point." Successfully getting the clowns' attention, they turned their heads towards us, one's face painted with a sad expression, and the other with a shocked expression.

In the midst of his annoyed blinking of the flashlight, the flashlight suddenly turned off, and it went nearly pitch black dark, and only silence was heard. 

"Did the battery run out?" You asked quickly, now scared. "Hyun, don't you have another one in your bag?"

"Uh, yeah, one second." He said, and you heard shuffling around as he tried to find his way into his bag in the dark, but then the flashlight suddenly turned back on with a click, and you whipped your head over to Yeonjun.

"Um, what was that...?" You trailed off upon seeing Yeonjun's wounded face. "...Yeonjun?"

He was staring at the clowns, hands slightly shaking. Looking back at everyone else, you wondered what had happened. Yeonjun slowly walked closer, feet staggering through the water, knees struggling to keep him up through what seemed to be his extreme shock.

"Ch...Changbin?" Yeonjun whispered, voice weak. "Wooyoung?"

You blinked. Did he know them? Who was Changbin? Who was Wooyoung? And why did Yeonjun look as if he had just lost something important to him. His breathing was harsh, and his eyes were wide, yet you noticed his waterline swell with...tears?

Slowly looking over to the clowns, you looked into their eyes, seeing an array of emotions, strong enough to make even you feel their pain. Panic, sadness, the agonizing longing to be heard, to be saved. You didn't dare move as Yeonjun got even closer, looking them in their eyes. He seemed to have finally noticed what was going on beyond the surface of their painted faces. His knuckles turned white, hands now shaking more noticeably. 

What you didn't expect was the raspy sob that ripped from his throat, followed by a distressed cry, echoing throughout the hall. He doubled down, knees locking as he fell into the water, the only visible part of him being from his chest and up. He couldn't hold himself up for any longer, but his eyes didn't leave the clowns. Sobs echoed against the walls, enough to shred a weak soul apart. 

Although the clowns were screaming in distress on the inside, their bodies started to move, as if they were controlled by a master puppeteer, and they started to...dance. Their smiles were wide as they jived around as if they were celebrating and having fun.

The more they danced, the more Yeonjun's face fell, slowly becoming emotionless despite the red in his eyes and the tears down his cheeks. The flashlight shone from under the water, the rays moving along with the ripples and waves the clowns made with their dancing. 

No one spoke. No one moved. You could barely breathe in the air around you as you watched them dance. It was almost...mesmerizing. The look in their eyes didn't change, a drastic contrast to their joyful faces. 

Nearing the end of their little performance, they started to form a heart together, both of them looking straight at Yeonjun. Their shaking arms came to a stop, of their heart pointed to Yeonjun, and as a finishing touch, a tear slowly streamed down the shocked clown's face, rolling over its wide smile.

Softly, this time, Yeonjun sobbed, eyes not leaving the clowns, although his vision was terribly blurred. Mixing in with his sobs, though, was what you thought was a slightly quiet chuckle.

Or...not what you thought...what it really was. Yeonjun was laughing. A broken smile appeared across his face as he laughed, his back slightly shaking with every breathy giggle that escaped his swollen lips. 

The clowns' faces slowly fell, eyes wide and iris's shaking. Looking deep into their eyes, you could almost see the reflection of two people, trapped in a ball and unable to get out. They hanged their fists against the see through walls, and their screams fell upon deaf ears, as if they were warnings. 

"Y-Yeonjun-" You shook, but he kept laughing. You panicked as you looked behind you at everyone else, wondering what the hell you were going to do, and wondering if they saw what happened at the extent that you did. 

"The water's rising!" Soobin cried.

"Yeonjun!" Taehyun called out for him. You turned back around to see Yeonjun almost fully submerged into the water, and it was now rising quickly. 

In a state of panic, and a last-minute feeling, you jumped out towards Yeonjun, grunting as you just now remembered your torn wings. Your back seared in pain, but you ignored it, reaching Yeonjun right before you the water completely submerged him. You had planned to pull him up and try to smack him out of it so that you all could quickly find a way out, but it was no use, and it was as if Yeonjun was tugging you down, under the water. It was way deeper than you thought, deeper than it possibly could be. The floor was right there, right? 

With the both of you submerged under the water, you held your breath and looked up at what was the supposed to be the surface, but you were met with darkness. You looked around, eyes wide, trying to find everyone else, but they were...gone.

Your arms were still tightly wrapped around Yeonjun, and his eyes were closed. You didn't notice before, but he had passed out and now you just felt completely alone. Submerged in what seemed to be a deep and dark ocean, there was no one else around, and nothing left but emptiness. It was like you had fell into the pit that the victims of this level were pulled into, yet you had deeply hoped that you wouldn't turn into them.

Sad, sad clowns subjected to a tragic end with no way out. Meeting visitor after visitor and forced to collect their last bit of happiness before joining the heart wrenching waters of level 609.

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

SO, since it's been a while since I've posted a chapter, I want to remake my masterlist. If you'd like to be apart of the masterlist for any future chapters, please reblog and tell me in the tags! (also tell me your thoughts on this chapter, I LOVE to hear what readers have to say!!)

#txt #tomorrow x together #txt soobin #txt yeonjun #txt beomgyu #txt taehyun #txt huening kai #txt angst #txt smut #nct mark #level infinity #txt x reader #soobin x reader #yeonjun x reader

[chuuyrr]

Hi there! I wanted to do a request for the Gojo!reader fic. Here it is: The port mafia decided to go to a summer festival just to relax, and being the good boyfriend that he is, Chuuya invites Gojou. How would he react to seeing his beloved dolled up in a yukata for the first time? And will he have to deal with any guys trying to flirt with her?

perfect — bsd x gojo! reader

masterlist of infinity

╰➤ PAIRING(s): nakahara chuuya

╰➤ CW(s): possible spoilers for bungou stray dogs and jujutsu kaisen, fluff/jealousy, chuuya being the best boyfriend

╰➤ SYNOPSIS: your loving boyfriend invites you to a summer festival that the port mafia was going at and sees you, his beloved, dolled up in a yukata for the very first time

before you read: hey there! in case you're new, this is a oneshot series bungou stray dogs x gojo! reader which means you have gojo's surname, six eyes, and cursed technique which is an ability for the sake of this fic. for more information please see the masterlist of the series.

although port mafia was an underground criminal organization, it wasn't all that bad, or so you'd like to think when nakahara chuuya called you while you were in tokyo for work under heiwa, your own organization.

"a summer festival there in yokohama?" you inquired, squeezing both of your cheeks in your free hand while holding the phone to your ear.

"y-yeah, you heard me, it's not a port mafia type of business. we're just going there to relax, but also because elise wants to go, and of course i'm inviting you along," chuuya replied, but on the other end of the phone back to him, he was a blushing red mess with ozaki and tachihara softly chuckling behind him.

"hmm, i see.. sounds cool..." you nodded quietly as you looked over at one of the higher-ups, gakuganji, who was watching you and the other younger heiwa ability users who were practicing in the distance.

chuuya, on the other hand, mistook your tone and almost panicked, "but you don't have to come over if you don't want to. you're probably busy there in tokyo with work!"

"eh? i didn't say anything like that," you exclaimed, puffing your cheeks up as you turned away from the idiot higher-up, "of course, i'm coming over, idiot. i just need to take care of something first," you narrowed your eyes for a second with your response to chuuya and whispered, "the higher-up here is fucking staring at me and my subordinates."

"ah, so that's why," chuuya sighed in relief before narrowing his eyes, "well, alright, i'll see you then and try not to gouge their eyes out, okay babe?" his last statement prompted tachihara to look at him strangely with wide eyes in shock.

you shook your head, softly chuckling a "yeah, yeah," when chuuya took your attention back to him, "and for another, [name]?" he asked.

"yes, chuuya?" you asked, adjusting your black round sunglasses and pushing them up against your nose.

"i'm looking forward to seeing you soon."

as a giggle escaped your lips, you couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat. it just goes to show how much chuuya missed you. after all, it's been a long time since you returned to him in yokohama, at the penthouse you shared with him. the higher-ups were a pain in the ass, and you had kids to mentor and protect, especially this one who, like chuuya, is a vessel for a god.

"i miss you too."

a summer festival with chuuya sounded great.

fast forward to the days leading up to the actual summer festival, and ozaki koyo couldn't help but sigh and smile at how antsy chuuya had been all day preparing. chuuya was constantly asking her what to do with a significant other at summer festivals and if his expensive but fine yukata for the occasion looked okay. the boy she'd been watching over since he joined the port mafia had grown so much.

"chuuya, you're fine. calm down a little." koyo giggled quietly, covering her lips with the sleeve of her yukata.

"yeah! cut yourself some slack," tachihara agreed to koyo's words, "we're going to a summer festival, not work."

as tachihara spoke with the executive, akutagawa and his sister, gin, who were also dressed up for the occasion, remained idle.

"you heard tachihara," everyone turned their heads towards the port mafia boss, mori ougai, who was dressed in a black yukata for the occasion, while elise was dressed in a crimson red yukata that she seemed to dislike a lot, "all of us are going there to relax, so relax, chuuya-kun."

"he's having a little trouble relaxing because of you know who," koyou tilted her head, giggling again, but this time eliciting a small whine from chuuya.

"ane-san!" chuuya cried out with a faint blush spreading across his cheekbones.

"ah, that's right, ozaki. i almost forgot that gojo-chan's coming along with us as well. no wonder chuuya-kun can't sit still," mori said fondly to the ginger-headed mafioso, who was now scowling and turning his head away in embarrassment.

fast forward to the actual summer festival, and the port mafia has already chosen a location to watch the fireworks, thanks to elise's recommendation. everyone had already prepared the picnic, including the food and beverages, but you were still missing.

chuuya fumbled with his yukata, worried as to where you were. he knew you were coming, but he can't help but wonder if something unexpected came up at the last minute. did you have any work to do? were you dealing with the shitty higher-ups again? or perhaps you just didn't want to go? it was absolutely killing him.

just as chuuya was about to ring you a call on his phone, he heard your voice.

"chuuya!"

he and the rest of the port mafia turned their heads in your direction at that moment. chuuya had the impression that time had stopped and the world had frozen.

there you were, running up to him, dressed elegantly in a white and blue yukata that reminded him of your once snowflake-hair that you had dyed [color] and aquamarine six eyes that twinkled like stars in a dark, midnight sky. you even had your hair styled and makeup applied to your liking for the occasion.

in his eyes, you were a goddess. could you be the god of the skies himself, rather than just sugawara michizane's descendant? when you finally got to chuuya, panting slightly for air before smiling. in his eyes, you were even more stunning up close. he was at a loss for words.

"my, my, gojo-san, you look absolutely lovely," koyo stared at you fondly with a soft smile.

even elise couldn't agree more with chuuya and koyo, "you look like a princess—no, a queen!"

"damn, chuuya-san. you're onneee lucky man!" tachihara whistled before draping an arm around the ginger-haired mafioso who was stunned by you, "just look at gojo-san!"

"oh my, you guys flatter me too much. thank you," you said sweetly in response to their compliments.

chuuya looked around at the other port mafia subordinates who had joined them, as well as passers-by who were staring at you with adoration.

something within chuuya ignited as a result of this. he stomped towards you as soon as tachihara's arm was removed from around him. he then grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to his side, his hand possessively grasping your hip.

"stop looking at my girl," chuuya scoffed at tachihara and the other port mafia subordinates, who turned away and cleared their throats. as tachihara grinned at chuuya's growing jealousy, your eyes widened.

tachihara laughed, raising his hands in the air defensively, "relax, gojo-san's all yours."

while chuuya and tachihara bickered, you stepped away from chuuya for a moment and were approached by mori, the port mafia boss himself.

"mori-san! thank you for letting me come to your little get-together," you said with a smile.

"it's an honor to have you with us, gojo-chan," mori said respectfully, "your dear boyfriend was antsy all day waiting for you to come."

"really, mori-san?" you chuckled softly, glancing at chuuya, who had a faint blush across his cheekbones.

"huh, i don't know what they're talking about," chuuya said as he returned to your side and lightly squeezed your side, clearing his throat.

"ah, young love," mori sighed, shaking his head as he smiled at you and chuuya, "well, enjoy the summer festival. there are lots of booths over there and feel free to seperate from us if you two want some privacy, alright?"

"got it, boss," chuuya nodded curtly, slightly hovering his hat as a sign of respect as you thanked mori again, "thank you, mori-san."

as a result, you and chuuya separated from the port mafia and decided to explore the various booths and stalls in the festival's said location together. you couldn't help but chuckle as chuuya insisted on walking with you by the hip. he still has his arm around you, specifically around your waist.

"chuuya, i'm not going anywhere," you said, gently patting his hand on your side with a small giggle.

"sorry, but i'm not letting you go," chuuya's lips graced into a smile as he looked at you before slightly narrowing his eyes as he glanced at his and your surroundings—people were staring at you, specifically men—which he didn't like at all, "they're all staring at you."

and then he stammered, dismissively waving his free hand in the air, "but you look stunning, that's why people are staring, so let them stare baby, i'm protecting you either way, okay?"

you giggled at him, "okay, if you say so, chuuya."

you two tried a variety of delicious foods from booths and stalls such as takoyaki, taiyaki, and dango, and played a variety of games such as catching fish and shooting games. chuuya was genuinely impressed, far more so if possible.

even the staff couldn't believe it because even if the game was rigged, you still managed to win it, and chuuya loved the triumphant look on your face as you laughed together with their priceless reactions of surprise.

if only they knew how your lovely aquamarine eyes were so much more than just pretty.

chuuya was your personal bodyguard for the entire evening, and he couldn't believe it; some men had the audacity to flirt with you, his girl, while he was with you, and he found it a little annoying. because you were so stunning, some women were actually flirting with you too.

you, gojo [name], could have handled things in a matter of seconds. please, with your unrivaled six eyes and limitless ability, you could bring down an entire organization in a matter of seconds.

chuuya, on the other hand, will not let you fuss over them. chuuya wants you to sit still, look pretty, eat a lot of your favorite foods, and enjoy the rest of the night while he takes care of the rest. he can't bear the thought of his beloved darling wasting her breath and time on some people that aren't just worth it.

"i swear i'm going to roundhouse kick that motherfucker over there," chuuya grumbled, trying not to make a scene while you ate a mochi, "ugh, i'm sick of those damn idiots. who do they think they are?"

"hmm, well i say we should give them a show."

"hah? what do you mean by that?"

you leaned in towards chuuya, gently grabbing the fabric of his yukata to pull him to you. with that, you pressed your lips against chuuya, who was taken aback by the kiss and blushed profusely. you then drew back, looking at the men who had previously flirted with you, their mouths agape.

"this one's mine, boys," you said, your eyes narrowing slightly and your lips curving into a smirk.

you were a sly fox, to be sure, but a part of him reveled in it. chuuya loved being yours as much as he loved having you as his, and thankfully, that worked and those idiots left you and him alone.

finally, some peace and quiet, chuuya thought.

"now i have you all to myself, chuuya-kun," you said happily, sticking your tongue out as you struck a peace sign pose with three fingers at him, which chuuya found absolutely adorable and made his heart scream and short-circuit on the inside.

"i should be the one saying that," chuuya exclaimed, reaching out his hands to gently flick at your brow.

"whatever," you joked as you smiled at him, shrugging your shoulders.

chuuya sighed and smiled, softly laughing as he took your hand in his. he stared at you again as you two began to walk away to where you would be watching the fireworks. chuuya was a lucky man. an absolute goddess like you could have chosen someone else, but you chose him.

"what'cha looking at, mister?" you teased, raising your brow.

"just adoring my beautiful, beautiful [name]," he squeezed your hand, biting his lip as he eyed you up and down, "you're just so perfect. all dolled up like this too. i can't take my eyes off you."

"quoting song lyrics now, hmm?" you joked and wiggled your brows up and down, laughing.

"i'm being serious, [name]," chuuya huffed, pretending to be irritated.

"i know, darling, i know," you chuckled, "i'm just messing with you; i can't help myself."

"alright, alright. now, come on, let's hurry up before we miss the fireworks, and after that, we can go back to the penthouse and get some rest because i know you came all the way here from work," chuuya exclaimed.

"sounds more than good to me. it's perfect," you chuckled once more, "to be home with you."

chuuya leaned in closer this time, pressing his lips against your forehead then your lips to kiss you before pulling away and taking the two of you to where you'll be watching the fireworks.

#— [◇] ; infinity #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs chuuya #chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #nakahara chuuya x you #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya x you #chuuya hcs #chuuya fluff #bsd chuuya #bsd oneshot #bsd headcanons #bsd hcs #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #bsd fluff #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs fluff #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs scenarios

[aseaofyoongi]

for the night | jhs

pairing: jhs x reader (f)

genre: angst; smut

rating: mature audiences ONLY (18+)

word count: 4.3 thousand words

summary: you and hoseok are bestfriend and in the midst of a party and your hard to decipher feelings — you make the mistake of reciprociting your bffs sexual intentions.

warnings: one night stand; mentions of sex; suppressed feelings; foul language; friends to one night stand to its complicated; penetrative (protected) sex!; oral stimulation (f. receiving); (he puts her undies in her mouth); dirty talk; slight degradation kink; semi public sex; bickering; spanking; dom-ish hoseok; house party au; jealousy; descriptions of broken heart; unresolved emotions; hoseok is kind of a fuckboi; it is complicated to say the least

posted: sunday october 16, 2022 | 9:10AM

get a feel: playlist 🎧

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Now. .

How did that saying go again? you swore you tried your hardest to recall. You did. But it was a given that past the blaring hip-hop beats being emitted (by whoever the fuck had the aux to the speaker sitting in the corner of the living room), your tympanum refused to fulfill its duty. You were still here but everything seemed just so far away — as if you were miles from here. You weren’t though because from where you stood at the foot of the stairs you were just steps away from the rather blurry swarm of bodies dancing to whatever the fuck was being played now.

Alcohol had not entered your system once that night but your head felt in a haze nevertheless and a pungent headache lurked right at its heel.

Still, everything remained at an arm’s length from reality — everything. Your hearing was muffled; your eyes couldn’t make out the simplest of details. And your body. . felt as if it was steering through the midnight sky, swimming past unobtrusive waxen clouds as the luminance of the bright stars served as your guide slowly leading your feet up the stairs.

Your hands intertwined in his — wrapped so tightly against one another it almost perfectly mimicked the loops of infinity.

It felt binding. As if you were meant to hold his hands like this forever and that very thought scared you — it was wrong. You knew deep down.

But. .

In that moment you couldn’t quite make out why you haven’t been in this situation before your clammy hands holding by his silky palms. . you’ve known eachother since diapers and you couldn’t remember the last time you both held hands at all — you have been deprived of his ravening touch.

. . because goddamn it felt do fucking right.

The stairs were congested as unrecognizable bodies lingered all over; some couples were kissing, others conversing and others simply stood around and though they were all occupied in their own endeavors you could feel their judgemental eyes on the two of you — on you.

Though the flashing lights made it nearly impossible to see; You felt dozens of prying eyes picking apart your actions as you neared the top of the stairs — his hands still leading you to the nearest available room.

All silently judging with their lingering stares and fingers pointed in your direction.

Still, the only thing on your mind concerned itself with was following him to what you knew would be the best and worst decision you’ve ever made.

You snapped out of your thoughts when he stopped abruptly in the middle of the ill-lit hallway. He spoke in a soft tone, of course, you could hear him better now as you were farther away from the ear-splitting music.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Would I have come all the way up here if I wasn’t?” You tried your hardest not to stumble on your words but you couldn’t help the feeling bubbling at the pit of your stomach. Truly, you couldn’t wait for him to take you inside one of these fucking room already.

Standing in-front of him you knew you always found your best friend attractive; you knew he had the type of beauty no other boy could embody — but you couldn’t quite pinpoint when it all just: shifted.

When everything began feeling like this.

But if there was one thing you were certain of it was what you feel is not how best friends are supposed to feel about each other.

“There's no need for formalities, Hoseok,” you grabbed him by his oversized shirt until your back met the wall directly behind you, “we’re just best friends helping each other out while at a shitty party.”

God, you were a fucking liar.

But your body ached for his touch and you just wanted to satisfy the craving even if it was just for one night.

His heart shaped lips hovered over yours while hands began to massage your inner thigh — hiking up your sundress just a bit.

“That’s the thing,” he whispered into the shell of your ear — there was a wave of electrical shocks making their way down your spine. His voice was soft as if mimicking the feeling of the grainy white sands of the beach under the soles of your feet. So soft and warm.

He continued: “You're my best friend. I really don’t want to fuck this up. But yo-”

His warm slender fingers inched closer to your core. There were traces of hesitation in his soothing exploration of your skin but you wanted all of him; all at once.

“—But what?” your arms rested on his shoulders as you raked your fingers through the long dark strands resting at his nape.

“But—” His dark eyes were cast over you like a nimbostratus cloud; you couldn’t deny it was intimidating. They were so expressive yet so difficult to read, “you know. .”

“You’re being super fucking vague, Hoseok.”

“I just want to make sure you’re aware of the implications at stake here,” his eyebrows were furrowed almost making it seem like he had a unibrow. There was a tinge of concern written over his sharp features.

You understood where his worries derived from — you did. But personally, your mind was clouded by his fingertips on your skin and personally you just craved the comforting feeling of his body heat in your vicinity to care about the consequences to follow at all.

At this moment, you couldn’t be bothered with what came next (although, you knew if anybody found out about this escapade it would be enough to cause a stir).

“Hoseok, I told you already,” you used your pointer and middle finger to guide his face closer to yours, “I just want to live in the moment.”

“I really didn’t want to hear those words from you,” his forehead was now resting on yours, “I don’t want to ruin. . us.”

“This will ruin nothing. Trust me tomorrow morning we’ll be best friends. Just as we’ve always been.”

“No feelings attached?” He asked.

There were blaring rumbles of thunder overshadowing the music just a floor below. All background noise ceased once again and you were left with a rumpus storm blazing just above you — its downpour washed over you like droplets of dismay drenching you with sorrow.

Of course, it was implied. You implied it.

But you couldn’t help how much those three fucking words gashed another wound into your heart.

“No strings attached.”

Those three fucking words. You couldn’t tell if you were pathetic or just fucking selfish.

His lips felt like pads of his cotton fingertips against your neck; all airy and light. Hoseok’s fingers reclaimed their position under the fabric of your dress and you couldn’t help the goosebumps forming on your skin.

closer.

closer.

closer.

Euphoric was truly the only way you could explain the way his digits felt against your folds even through the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Fuck—” you moaned softly, “it feels so good.”

“This isn’t even the best of it,” He rubbed gentle circles on your clit — nothing was off yet; you were both completely dressed but you already felt so indulged in pleasure your mind began dozing off causing a bit of dizziness to transpire. You were ready to comply with anything he requested.

. . That was until you heard the next few words uttered, “can you take your panties off please?”

His words were saccharine and you felt the way his soft tone bounced within your inner ear. A request which had your morals stripped but your body — your pussy, more specifically — wanted to comply without second thought.

“Like. .” you looked around the dim hallway. It was definitely vacant but you couldn’t help but feel like someone could walk up here at any moment — after all the cleanest bathroom was just a couple of doors from where he had you up against the wall, “right here. . right now?”

“What? Are you afraid someone might see us?”

Yes. No. Kinda.

Instead, though, you shook your head.

He leaned in slowly — his lips were now inches away from yours and still that smug expression remained plastered on his face.

“Then, what are you waiting for huh?” His command was masked behind a sensuous tone and though he posed his words in the form of a question, there was also a sense of command and you knew it wasn’t really a request.

If it was any other person this absurd request would’ve been thrown out the window and into the crisp midnight air to never be heard from again but it was |him|. And somehow - someway things felt different.

This was Jung Hoseok; your best friend.

He lifted your chin up — your gaze no longer lingering towards the carpeted floor.

He seemed concerned. . but you know there was no other intent of love behind his softhearted expression. At least, not how you wanted, you were only friends after all.

“Of course,” he cleared his throat, “that’s only if you want to.”

“I do.”

He flashed a smile so illuminating it could probably put that old bitch we call the sun right out of its daily occupance. Because even standing in between narrow walls making up the dark hallway his essence alone glowed so overwhelmingly bright — it was intoxicating yet comforting somehow.

You didn’t know. Your thoughts were just mush and all you could think about was his touch navigating every inch of your body.

“No, I mean—” he cleared his throat, backing away from you leaning on the way opposite from you, “are you sure you want this?” he pointed to the both of you, “I just want to make sure I’m not crossing a boundary I’m not supposed to and you seem a bit hesitant honestly.”

“It’s not hesitancy,” you began, “your, uh. . your little request took me a bit by surprise is all.”

He beamed teasingly, “Oh, I see. You’re a closed doors kind of girl.”

“Typically.”

“I’m sure there’s an available room behind one of these doors,” he shrugged.

“I suppose that’s more suitable but I’ve just decided I’m open to exploring new things beginning tonight.”

“Tonight?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Tonight.” you confirmed. Your hand slipped under your tight dress sluggardly removing the underwear that stood between you meeting Hoseok’s digits. He closed the distance between the two of you once again caging you back against the wall.

“Are these for me?” his delicate fingers grazed your hand as he grabbed your underwear right out of your hand and placed them in his back pocket.

“I’ll let you keep them if you answer one question. .” You just needed to know.

Hoseok began placing fragile kisses on the nape of your neck — time and time again you could feel the precipitous thunderbolt traveling down your spine as his lips met your scolding skin and continued to ignite that electrifying sensation in your stomach.

“Go ahead.”

“What happened with you and—” you didn’t need to finish; you could feel the hesitancy in his touch at the mention of her name.

He cleared his throat, “broke up last week.”

“You didn—”

“I didn’t want to remember. .” he huffed.

“But it’s me, remember?” you couldn’t mask the undeniable anger in your voice, “I thought we were closer than that.”

“We are. . And I was going to tell you but I was just really trying to avoid remembering. I don’t know,” he sighed, “It was a just—”

“Just. .”

“It was tough.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that alone,” you caressed the apples of his delicate cheeks, “but you also neglected my very reliable shoulder to cry on.”

He smiled, “I must be the worst best friend ever.”

“The worstest.”

“The worstest,” he repeated — both of his palms laid flat on the wall. One on either side of your head as he caged you into that very spot once again, “is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Although you could vaguely make out the tumultuous music just a few steps down the stairs, but the silence surrounding the bubble you two found yourselves in was deafening. It triggered an obnoxious ringing in your ear — and all your eyes were attentive to the was way his eyes roamed your figure.

Finally, the guilt you have let stand between you and acting on what you’ve felt for him (for quite sometime now) ceased.

Your brain had its time in controlling your actions — now it was time to listen to your body.

“I want you, Hoseok.”

Those four words served as the corroboration he needed in wanting to embark on his sinful endeavors because seconds after you vocalized your sexual reciprocation he was down on his knees in front of you. His hands were inching closer to your inner thighs — his fingers felt scorching hot against your skin.

“Hoseok,” he halted his ministrations on your thigh and looked up at you with dilated pupils.

“Can I eat you out doll?” He whispered his voice was low and tainted with sin.

You nodded eagerly.

He chuckled — it was deep; sedating; mischievous and it rumbled loudly coursing through you up like raucous lightning.

Hoseok didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to — you saw the way his head dipped under the dark fabric of your dress as he spread your legs further apart. Moving closer and to where your body yearned most for his attention.

It’s like you were floating on the serene waters of the ocean. The water made you feel completely weightless as the sun kissed your skin softly — that’s how it felt when Hoseok's lips met your folds in a delicate kiss.

His tongue was more menacing, though, and a bit torturous. You learned that quickly when he began swiping slow paced wet strides against your lips down below — slowly enacting a zigzag motion with the tip of his tongue on your clit. Your eyes were shut tightly as you continued carding your fingers through his hair pushing his face deeper against you completely drowning him in your juices.

And. . he continued with this subtle attack for a while but you were slowly growing impatient.

“Hoseok,” you moaned, “please, I need more.”

He hummed against your core which sent shock currents down your spine. It was chilling the power he already had over you even with just his tongue.

Hoseok grabbed the back of your thighs, placing your legs on his shoulder. You squealed as your right hand darted towards his dark locs immediately, “you’re so fucking wet you know that?”

“Damn, why haven’t I had you like this before?” His voice was a bit hoarse and a bit deeper than before. . Sexy.

He didn’t give you much time to respond at all — your head spun with a million ways to form the words, ‘I don’t know you idiot. You could’ve easily had me all along.’

But he didn’t give you time at all.

His lips hungrily crashed against your folds once again — his tongue switched to a combination of sucking and licking on the sensitive bud residing between your labia. It felt like bolts of electricity coursing through your body; the way your legs shook could attest to the avenue of pleasure he steered you down.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” you panted as he began slurping your juices, “your so good Hoseok. You’re fucking tongue is so good.”

A string of curses left your mouth as he continued his desirous-starved attack. The dulcet noises you both emitted disappeared into the muggy air of the unfilled hallway. . well unfilled besides the two of you of course.

“Hoseok, I’m g-gonna cum.” you stuttered.

“Cum,” he hummed against you, “cum for me, doll.”

A massive wave of pleasure washed over your body as you felt the knot in your abdomen tightened. His name was the last coherent word out of your mouth before you succumbed to yelps of bliss while riding out your orgasm.

“You were so fucking good for me doll,” he wiped your juices right off his chin, “so sweet. . so fucking sweet.”

You wanted to express so much but your mouth simply did not comply. You were still floating on the cerulean waters, completely immersed in the tinges of pleasure which lingered behind.

“My tongue alone made you dumb?” He snickered, setting your feet back onto the floor.

“D-don’t get cocky Jung Hoseok,” you rolled your eyes.

“D-don’t,” he teased, “someone sounds clearly affected. Plus, if I remember correctly you were praising my tongue just seconds ago. . you know, before you made a mess of your face.”

You scoffed playfully, punching his arm, “I practically had to fake that whole thing.”

“Oh, yeah?” There are hints of an insinuated challenge lingering in his tone, “then what was the whole ‘Uh, Hoseok I’m coming — im coming’ about?” He dramaticized in a high pitch tone, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“You’re delusional,” you glanced towards the top of the stairs — still, you two were alone.

“Don’t tell me you’re still anxious about our very discreet location choice?” he winked, “I told you no one comes up here. Joon’s very strict about it.”

You shrugged.

“That’s too bad. . I kinda had a great idea pop into my head just now.”

“Which would be?” your interest was definitely peaked but you just knew it would be something along the lines of his sexual desires (something you were definitely not opposed to), and this damned hallway.

“Can I fuck you right here?”

His words rammed into your head like a truck. If you were in a mental dismay before now your brain was completely reduced to a puddle of nothing — just a massive puréed mess sitting behind your skull.

It was simply not functioning anymore.

You’d imagine him to be like this behind closed doors. It would explain the trail of girls following behind him with broken hearts (even when he was in a relationship), but you never actually thought you’d be in this position — his filthy words expressed for your ears only.

“Yes,” You forcefully swallowed down your nervousness, “yes, please fuck me right here.”

“Turn around for me,” You did.

He hiked your dress up to your waist, exposing your bare ass in the process, “Damn, I really missed out on you before today. You’re all full of surprises aren’t you bestfriend?”

You giggled — God, you sounded like a high school girl with a crush.

“Just look at this ass,” he landed a smack after another on your bottom. Your ass felt red hot and you were sure his hand prints had marked you as his. And every single time his palm met your skin you could feel how drenched you became.

“Hoseok,” you cried out.

“You’re a fucking goddess.” Again, his honeyed praises were like a boastful ballad to your ears and you loved it; you were consumed by it — completely and utterly intoxicated by it.

“You’ll be the fucking death of me, Jung Hoseok.”

“Before that happens though, can you please open your mouth for me, doll?” He asked. You complied easily; leaning your head back to take a look at him to try and decipher what he was plotting. . instead you found him digging into his back pocket and you quickly seemed to put two-and-two together.

“Can I?” He asked rolling your underwear into the shape of a ball — you nodded welcoming the silk fabric past your lips. Hoseok held your chin; his eyes glued on yours, “you're more mesmerizing than the stars themselves. A dream is what you are. . so perfect.”

Still, stood pressed up against the wall with a warm sensation spreading to your cheeks at his adoring reassurances. Avidity pumped through your veins as your back faced him waiting as he slipped the condom on his erection. You wanted to tell him to hurry fuck up but instead you opted for patience plus you weren’t exactly in a position to communicate any intelligible words.

“Are you ready?”

You nodded vigorously — immediately his laugh rumbled through the hallway. Your evident ‘eagerness’ was still ‘likely’ a bit pathetic but you didn’t care.

Instead of basking in serenity while floating on the light current of the ocean water, as you previously were — your body was driven by anticipation and the persistent titillation bubbling deep in your stomach as you waited for him to fill you up.

Though, it didn’t take long at all for Hoseok to fulfill your unspoken wish as his cock pushed past your entrance, burying itself deep in you.

“Are you doing OK?” He asked after letting you adjust to him for a couple minutes, “can I move?”

You nodded once again as the makeshift gag prevented you from being vocal at all.

Hoseok’s pace was expeditious in the way it completely invaded your walls as he moved his hips to a pace that had you a mumbling mess in-front of him.

But he kept at it — forward and backward he moved. His delectable rhythm met your desire where you needed him most.

“You love this don’t you? You’ve been hiding from me all this time but I — fuck—,” Hoseok groaned as he continued pounding into your pussy, “I have you all figured out. You like to be fucked like a fucking slut.”

Your muffled moans were scarcely audible but both of you knew Hoseok was deciphering your body in a way no one ever has.

“You’re about to cum aren’t you baby? You’re fucking squeezing so tight agaisnt me,” You couldn’t see him at all but you knew — you just knew — he looked heavenly nearing his climax, “I’m so close too. . so fucking close.” he rambled on.

The both of you only lasted a couple more minutes before you were engulfed in a mountainous wave of pleasure.

“You were—” he began through uneven breaths, “fucking amazing.”

He removed the black underwear from your mouth, “you did all the work though.”

“It was the least I could do.”

There was a vibrant; and slightly idiotic smile plastered on your face, “you’re just saying that cause I finally let you fuck me.”

“I’m incapable of lying. You should know that.”

“You’re a pathological liar you mean,” you teased, “and give me my panties back. I need those!”

“Trust me, you don’t need these where we’re going,” he winked and he held out his hand for you — you placed your hand in his as he led you down the hallway and finally to the privacy of one of the rooms.

The rays of the early morning sun illuminated the room as they snuck their way in through the slightly drawn blinds. You yawned — stretching your hand to greet the boy who had spent the latter time of the night devoting himself to bringing you pleasure.

. . But he wasn’t there.

There was a slight crack opening in the walls of your heart as gloominess lingered in quickly followed by a vigorous rainstorm.

He left.

He left.

God, you were overthinking.

This meant nothing. He was likely just a floor below getting himself some breakfast.

Yeah.

Why did he leave you so fast though? You wanted to talk to him — to tell him how you really felt. You just wanted to let it all out.

Where was he?

Your dress was discarded on the floor — but his clothes were gone; no longer contributing to the pool of clothes composed of both of the garments you both rid yourselves just a few hours prior.

His clothes are gone. . You weren’t hung over. God knows you hadn’t touched a single drink at the party but your head was pounding — drumming to the beat of the strident crescendo thumping at your chest.

Quickly, you slid on your dress and traveled down the hallway of — memories — and down the stairs. The further you traveled into the living room area the more you realized nearly every inch of the house was disarranged and littered beyond recognition.

“Fuck—” you nearly triped on a mountain of discarded solo cups left on Joon’s floor.

“Who died?” You recognized that voice anywhere.

“I’m good, Namu. Not dead yet but I will hold you liable if I break my neck trying to make it to the kitchen,” you yelled back.

“And I will be happy to be held accountable no questions asked,” you smiled as you rounded the corner into the kitchen; he was making coffee. “So, what did you get into last night?” He held up a mug inaudibly asking if you wanted some as well and you nodded.

“Uh, I wasn’t feeling too good so I crashed in one of the guest rooms upstairs.”

“Did you at least have fun? I blacked out within the first fucking fifteen minutes and now look at this place,” he handed you your hot drink as he pulled out one of the stalls to take a seat beside you.

“Yeah,” you stammered trying to avoid any unintentional reaction to become visible on your features — you really didn’t feel like lying anymore than you already had to this morning, “it was definitely your best party yet.”

“I’m glad to hear.”

“Is anybody still around?” Though, ‘Is Hoseok still around?’ is what you really wanted to ask.

“Jimin and Jungkook are upstairs in Jungkook’s room. I’m not entirely sure where the rest are and Hoseok is outside talking to his ex or current girl,” he shrugged, “I’m not sure what’s happening there.”

No wonder he left you alone in bed.

He was talking to her.

The despairing song continued its loop blaringly and you could feel the cracks ripping apart the walls of your heart.

“I’m gonna run upstairs to shower and then clean around. Are you leaving now?”

“I’ll stay behind and help, if you want.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon’s exit from the kitchen was your cue to stand by the window with a clear view to the backyard. . though you figured in the back of your head you knew you couldn’t help but feel utterly defeated when your eyes caught a glimpse of their lips dancing so passionately against each others.

The calming sea you once felt has grown hungry and in a swift movement it swallowed you down to the bottom of the sea.

As you laid on the floor of the ocean you recalled the saying your mind failed to remember the night before: do not sleep with your fucking bestfriend.

-

-

-

author’s note: well here we are again at — smut plaza — again, excuse if this bad as it is only my 2nd smut ever and I. . well I tried.

The playlist included at the top is a compilation of songs which kind of helped me write this truly; so I hope you all enjoy it as much as i did.

<3 thank you so much for reading!

#bts #jung hoseok #hobi #hoseok smut #hobi smut #hoseok x reader #bts x reader #bts masterlist au #bts smut #bts college au #bts angst #em stories #hoseok angst #bts au #hoseok x you #hobi angst #kim seokjin #hobi x you #jin #kim namjoon #joon #park jimin #bts v #kim taehyung #min yoongi #suga #jeon jungkook #ambw kpop

[just-a-new-gi-writer]

Here for the request event: So this is a specific request for SAGAU/Villain AU(?), where god!darling is beaten and bruised by all nations and only finds solace in the arms of Khaenri'ah and her inhabitants. Meanwhile the Nations have turned against one another, from learning the truth about god!darling and what they did to them. The streets are filled with war, Archon against Archon, brother against brother. Darling is so scared, and just wants Teyvat to return how it was.

A/N: Not entirely sure what the whole ‘god!darling’ thing is. I’ve seen it a few times and can’t exactly pin down what it means- is there any difference between ‘darling’ vs ‘creator’? I thought there were some fics (like with the Puppet AU?) where ‘darling’ was someone completely separate from the reader… For this prompt, I’m going to assume that “god!darling” means the reader.

Word Count: 885

Warnings: Mentions of wounds

Masterpost

Taglist: @iyohime

Dark clouds hovered over the city of Liyue, glacially turning like an eye bearing down upon its inhabitants. An occasional bolt of lightning arced between the clouds, tinted ominously. Beneath them, the Jewel and its Harbor sat silently, almost waiting to receive their oncoming fate whatever it may be.

Many hills away, a figure half-staggered, half-ran down a quiet road, slowing and coming to a stop as they rested against the nearby rock wall, breathing heavily and clutching at their wounds. Behind them trailed a line of what was no longer blood. In the days past, they saw gold and gemstones of the deepest hues, but now the errant splatters behind them turned into shards of pale opal and the basest of metals.

The little-recognized Creator grit their teeth. Why? Why did any of this happen? A simple excursion into town, under a disguise no less, to purchase a few inconspicuous items. But no, the wrong words at the wrong time drew suspicion, a request turned to a demand. The Yuheng and her retinue had already drawn their conclusions, and they descended to seize their target. The guards tried to coerce a confession and get them to earn their sentence, but they held strong, earning them only the reprieve of a cell.

They knew little of the public story. The Tianquan had tried to interfere, as she always does, but only to impose her means and her name onto the process. Few of the elite, it seemed, were contesting the ends of the endeavor.

Word spread quickly, and the news of injustice spread faster. Half-truths and quarter-truths found their ways to the ears of those in lands abroad, sparking rage and indignation. Mondstadt could only spare her prayers, but a few brave souls managed to trade their freedom for another’s- they garnered all the attention they could to allow their Beloved a chance.

A chance that was almost turned to naught, their flight plagued with danger around every corner. The incident, combined with the recent preparations, had diverted the guards’ attention, but the same preparations had made them all ill at ease. Three times the Creator had been spotted trying to flee from the city, but the wounds and scars Liyue had given them acted as doors, of a type.

The city’s lights and lanterns slowly grew dimmer and smaller, but the growing storm only lingered and continued to gather. The golden city remained, preparing itself for its upcoming trial, not by books and laws, the Creator realized, but by steel and blood, by muscle and visions, by Geo against Electro.

On the horizon, wreathed in lightning, heralded by thunder, and beneath violet sails, a navy approached. An indignant rage, purified by injustice against the infinities, sought to strike the upstarts clean. No wonder those fools unguided by an Archon’s hand would make so great a mistake. A reminder is due.

The Qixing saw things quite differently. That candle of a nation that so often burned against itself sought a new fuel to burn, and saw nowhere better to strike than their shining city. What could those wayward islands know of justice, hunting down their own? Best for them to leave others’ affairs be.

But dealings between the two were always strained, eager to seek a spark for the touchpaper. Even now, deep in the night as it was, the dragon and tiger neared, circling and eyeing each other’s weaknesses and shortcomings. Fangs gleamed and claws shone.

A great light grew in the city, then a second, then a third. The roars reached the Creator’s ears, confirming their greatest fears. Fires began to flare, devouring buildings and supports and stalls and people all the same. The winds shifted and fed the flames, and the navy descended towards where the dragon’s scales were peeled away.

The smoke billowed up, carrying away the souls of the first to perish. The ships’ cannons belched fire and steel, tearing into the garrison. A great palace began to glow amber and drive back the ships at bay, only to be stopped by a terrible amethyst bolt tearing through tile and stone alike.

Soldiers began to disembark, guards formed ranks. The docks fell swiftly, the defenders sabotaged from behind. Some approaching ships exploded in sprays of splinters and screams, but not enough to slow them.

The city descended. Frenzied soldiers began to pour through the port’s gates into the city proper. Marshalls barked orders at their unprepared underlings. Civilians fled, sometimes finding escape, sometimes finding men-at-arms, sometimes finding their only paths blocked. The fires, of course, consumed all without judgment.

And so far away from it all, the branded Creator beheld the two great powers draw each others’ blood. Bones broke, arrows flew, pikes gouged. Steel clashed, hopes and futures disappeared, livelihoods turned to ash.

And the Creator wept, for there was nothing else to do.

There was word from the wind that a haven may yet exist, beneath countless miles of stone, swallowed in the depths of the earth and sealed away in its lithic coffin where death cannot truly touch it and where death cannot truly escape. So many others had sought that place to smother an unceasing curse and leave behind the world.

Perhaps there, you figured, you might find some company to weaken the one you bore.

#I wrote all this in one sitting #It felt like a fever dream while writing it #Hopefully it's fine #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact #genshin cult au #imposter au

[scrimblyscrorblo]

YES OF COURSE, honestly, it's my favourite one to think about when I'm sad ! :D 

(I also have an other au but I think it would be a tiny bit too much angsty to deal with... '3') 

Anyway- One peaceful (or as peaceful it can be with with every single moon present in the infinity castle-) day (yes it is important), Douma thought it would be a good idea to scare a lower demon without a blood demon art because why the fuck not ? It was because no one wanted to play with him. :'( 

Little did every-fucking-one know, but Muzan (the reason why he's here in the first place-), is that this demon actually does have a blood demon art ! It's called time regression ! And it's very unstable, the demon has literally no control over it. 

I think you can guess what happens next. :) 

The upper and lower moons, Nakime and Kijusbuki Muzan got it by the blood demon art ! 

Every single one got changed back into human, most of them into their child self. 

It means many, many, MANY THINGS. 

First and foremost, Nakime's human now. And with Nakime human no longer demon... No more infinity castle. Everyone is outside now ! So the poor poor demon... Is dead now. 

They all expected to get transformed back after that, but they didn't. They are all stuck as human, some as children. They're alive... But for how long ? 

Because three of them are deadly ill now. Rui, Hantengu and Muzan... 

And the ex-demon king is the one whom is the most at risk ! 

Most of them panic, formulating a plan quickly. 

First and furmost, go. To. The. Shades ! They don't when, or if, they will go back into being demons. Next, the oldests who aren't adults, will go and try to find anyone. Hopefully. not a slayer (foreshadowing, foreshadowing...).

 So Kokushibo (13), Urami, one of Hantengu's clone who's actually one of his sons (16), Kamanue, lower 6 (12), Wakuraba, lower 3 (12), Rokuro, lower 2 (17), Mukago, lower 4 (11).

Gyutato (10) refuses to leave his baby sister (10) all alone, he doesn't trust any of them with her.

Akaza (10), or more like Hakuji whom now remember everything, he watch them all with disgust as he leaves.

Hantengu (50) and Nakime (20) are left alone in taking care of all the younger (and/or sickly) children : Douma (8), Gyokko (8), Enmu (7), all the clones (or more like sons-), Rui (4) and Muzan (15).

Muzan is extra enraged but can not do anything about it, but he's specially terrified. He doesn't want to die, no no no ! He suppressing everything because even as a human and child, he's still their master.

One of them (Kokushibo), find someone. Sadly, it's a slayer (oh ?). But at least he knows for sure he will help them.

He calls everyone else running around trying to find help as he guide the slayer where the rest of the group is.

Tomioka Fucking Giyu, the fake water hashira, when he was trying to get back to butterfly mansion, did not expect to find an... Orphanage ? (He doesn't know) out there like that. It wasn't on his bingo list today ! But he still help them out. Which type of person would he be if he doesn't help them ? A pretty shit one that for sure !

So he takes them back to the butterfly mansion, to the surprise of one Kochou Shinobu.

And at this point, everyone are stressing but it's fine, everything fine... They wouldn't be transform into demons right now, right ?

So, before Kochou could watch for problems (she already noticed the sick ones), Rengoku suddenly arrives with a child following him ! Is Akazs, or more like Hakuji now.

Seeing them, Hakuji tries to leave, but nope ! Rengoku put him on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, ignoring his protest with (almost literal) deaf ears.

Everyone give a cold sweat, until Kochou giggles slightly. "Come on everyone, this way. I'm a doctor and I would like to examine you all !"

They accept, hoping to know if they will go back or not and if there's some type of medicine of the sickly ones.

"So... What happened ?" Ah... Um... Everyone is kind of looking at each other awkwardly. Until Hantengu decided to respond with a pretty damn good lie. He's an amazing acter and even better liar. Following the idea that they were a orphanage, he says : "There was... A Monster... We fled... Not everyone had successfully escaped it... But at least I'm glad some of us did... But it destroyed our home... We have nowhere to go..."

She hummed, actually believing him. "Truly unfortunate... You are all welcome here ! And, apart form the already unwell ones, everyone is fine ! We will fine a place of you all to live in and we'll help you help your sickness. Until then, you will all stay here." The insect pillar reassure with a smile.

And there's goes the crocodile tears, thanking her a thousand times in fake gracefulness. And she noticed nothing too !

So... No demon blood in them, meaning... They are all stuck like that ! How annoying, and dangerous. But at least they're safe here.

Muzan's wonder, now that he is human, if his demons... Died or become humans again ? Mmh...

Anyway, they are all brought to the largest room in the butterfly, give futons, bedding, covers and pillows. The oldest (adults and teens) prepare a resting place for the unwell and the youngest (pre-teen and kids) decided to make a pillow fort !

Nakime soon join them, to make sure they don't get hurt, but also because she misses her infinite home... And her biwa.

Koku's making sure his master is well as he naps with Rui.

Hantengu happily watches his sons play (14 for angry, 13 for sad, 10 for pleasure, 8 for joy and 4 for hatred).

Gyutato and Daki play together on their own, like Douma, Gyokko and Enmu, and also like the other lower moons.

And finally Hakuji, who's pouting on his own, in a corner, watching a blank wall angrily because he has to stay in this godforsaken room with... Them. He impatient to leave and never come back.

Part 1 ! Tell me if you wanna read more or wanna read something different. ^^

Omg that’s actually kind of adorable honestly and it’s certainly be a challenge for all of the demon slayer corpse to suddenly emotionally come to terms with very the now former kizuki

I do wanna know how giyuu factors into this as you mentioned he was a sort of therapist 🥺

[ffsg0jo]

Geto has a dragon tattoo on his back.

note from lija :: bestie you've got me thinking so many thoughts about geto,, he’s so hot and ughh just imagining him as a tattoo artist. also i have no experience in getting a tattoo or anything so please excuse me if i get anything wrong

warning :: female reader ,, needles ,, geto calls you 'good girl' and 'sweetheart'

imagine tattoo artist! geto. it's your first time ever getting a tattoo and you're nervous, feeling a little out of place. as soon you enter the parlour your eyes land on the broad shouldered man, with long luscious hair, sat hunched over, sketching a design for a customer. you're almost scared to approach him and disrupt his concentration, but he spots you and stands up, and walks towards you, smiling, 'what can i do for you sweetheart.' he drawls

tattoo artist! geto who talks you through the different types of tattoos you can get on the different parts of your body, using his own ones as examples. he shows you the little infinity on the side of his middle finger, a matching tattoo he explains, with his best friends, and the massive dragon tattoo that covers the large expanse of his back and curls so deliciously down his tailbone. you're too distracted by how good he looks and all of his tattoos, suddenly forgetting why you're there and what you're doing.

but don't worry because tattoo artist! geto is there, like an anchor, bringing you back to focusing on getting a perfect first tattoo. he recommends some designs and placements and after some deliberation, you decide on getting a tattoo on your forearm, a little 'love is the most twisted curse of all'.

tattoo artist! geto makes sure you’re thoroughly prepped and ready for him to start tattooing the cursive letters onto your arm. he gently disinfects your arm, the cotton ball softly dragging on your forearm. you must’ve looked nervous because geto firmly pats your leg, offering you a smile. ‘don’t worry love, it’ll be over before you know it’. he then changes his gloves and gets a brand new needle out, and sits opposite you, his sturdy thigh digging into the plush of your own. 

tattoo artist! geto is the most gentle and reassuring artist ever, not that you’d know any better. he makes sure you’re not in too much pain or discomfort, whispers soothing and gentle ‘good girls’ in your ear as you endure the slight pain and wince. and when he’s done, he gently places a kiss on your wrist, looking up at you with misty eyes and dilated pupils. ‘beautiful’ he whispers, soft lips moving against your skin. you almost regret not picking a more complex design because you craved the warmth of his body as soon as he moved away. 

you’re addicted to geto’s touch on your skin and his sweet whispers in your ear, and before you know it, you’re back to get another tattoo. only this time you’ve chosen something more intimate and daring. you show geto the design you’re thinking of and the placement and all he does is lazily smirk, looking down at you with a piercing stare. he nods and gestures towards an unoccupied room, 'let's get you prepped sweetheart.'

© ffsg0jo 2022 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

#🌻.sunspell #🌻.jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #suguru geto #suguru getou #geto suguru #getou suguru #suguru x reader #geto x reader #getou x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru getou x reader #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #spirithub #tahonet #tht.sinta

[fbfh]

STAR ANON HERE... I'm just curious what are your fave emo bands....

STAR ANON MY BELOVED!!!!! HOW ARE YOU DOING I MISS YOU <333 first of all, amazing question. I know the defenition of the emo genre is a little loose, but my favorite emo/pop punk bands are currently palaye royale, fall out boy (obvs), and paramore.

palaye royale own this fucking ass okay. remington leith.... ooooh my god. he has singlehandedly made me reconsider my stance on rpf. vampire!remington???? oh my god. oh my god. if I could drown in his voice I would. his cover of closer my nine inch nails actually brought about the second coming of christ. at the very end of no love in la where he goes "I SAID THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS LOVE IN LaAaAyEeee-"????? dead. actually dead. the boom is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard in my life, line it up is my FUCKING ANTHEM, and dying in a hot tub live is my favorite video on the internet. I don't use the phrase "eargasm" every, but I genuinely can't think of any other way to describe remi's voice. Emerson is an amazing drummer and incredible artist (I am SO jelly of his ability to draw architecture) and Sebastian is a brilliant guitarist and is the brain cell posessor (and probably has to routinely keep remi from jumping off stuff and breaking a limb with only partial success.) the grittiness and sincerety and emotion in remington's voice really just scratches my brain in a way that nothing else does. If I could get his voice made into something tangible I would open my skull and rub my brain against it for hours. I fucking love him.

fall out boy need no introduction. "doing lines of dust and sweat off of last nights stage just to feel like you" from 27??????? lives in my head rent free. been into some of their absolute headbangers from american beauty/american psycho and infinity on high recently like novocaine, jetpack blues (i'm sorry but "do you reMEMBER HOW WE USED TO SPLIT. A. DRINK. itNEVermattEREDWHATitwas. I think." I WANT THAT TATTOOED ON MY FOREHEAD!!!!!!!), thriller (OFC) and i've got all this ringing in my ears all singlehandedly describe my brain chemistry. that's what dopamine sounds like. ALSO fourth of july will never not sound like season 3 of stranger things to me. yk all the promo art where they're all turning around???? that but in gif form while the first few notes are playing. I wish someone would make a slightly harringrove centric edit of the starcourt mall incident and the fair and everything. if anyone knows about any season 3 fourth of july edits PLEASE send them to me because "i'm starting to forget just what summer ever meant to you"????? pls

PARAMORE. FUCKING PARAMORE RAISED ME. paramore got me through my teenage years almost singlehandedly. I remember when after laughter came out. I fucking love this is why. It's almost all I've been listening to. all we know is falling???? brand new eyes???? literally paramore have ZERO SKIPS it's insane. also (maybe I just haven't heard of them) but it's really refreshing to have a female lead singer in a pop punk band bc (again as far as I'm aware) that's not as common as having a male lead singer and IF I COULD MAKE MY INNER MONOLOGUE BE HAYLEY WILLIAMS VOICE??????? PLS- listen all I wanted was you is amazing obviously but my heart?????? MY HEART?????? I wanna scream that at someone and mean it. bucket list. I can't even reccommend any paramore songs bc if I try to think of good paramore songs I'm just going to list their discography. no fucking skips and I stand by that. Hayley's solo albums also feel very twilight bella swan depression forest angst core which I FUCKING ADORE. first thing to go is tattooed in my brain, specifically paired with this scene from the greatest romcom of all time french kiss. match made in heaven.

also lip candy don't have a lot of songs out yet AS I AM TYPING THIS I JUST SAW THEY RELASED AN ALBUM????? BRB LISTENING TO THAT NOW but they sound like what I thought teenager music would sound like when I was a kid (like they nailed it fucking perfectly) and have a very nostalgic feeling and sound to them which I adore. if you stay home and never be the same fucking slap. they slap and a half. it's giving demigod adventurecore roadtrip music.

#going through a moderate family crisis so I'm answsering asks to distarct myself!! #song recs #also i'm listening to lip candys album and it does in fact slap

[little-engineer-who-cant]

Two strangers take a walk and maybe learn a hope or two. A snapshot in time before Under the Red Hood Lies Jason Todd's Shattered Dreams

Part 2 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(also posted under cut)

“I touch you, straighten the sheet, you turn over in the bed, tender. Sun comes through the curtains. Which of us will survive, which of us will survive the other.”

- There are Better Ways of Doing This (Margaret Atwood)

She spins out under his hand, gliding away from him in an elegant twirl, skirt flaring around her legs as it lifts gracefully in time with the motion. It’s like a mockery of a dance, only instead of a ballroom, it’s the packed down dirt of a park path. Instead of fancy lights, it’s only natural sunshine filtering through the canopy above and decorating her face with spots of shadow. How many balls had he been to at Wayne Manor? How many dances did he share with people he didn’t want to be dancing with, but it’s life’s strangest irony that he wishes he got the chance to have a proper one with her. 

(You’re mad, you barely know her.)

And the insidious whisper is right, no matter how he hates it. Still, he can’t help but wish the world had skewed just a bit differently, that they’d met in another place, another time. 

But he can’t be upset with the way it turned out when she turns and smiles at him like the first glimpse of the dawn after a stormy night. When she uses her grip on his fingers to tug him along, back alongside her, looping her arm around his and making sure they’re palm to palm as her fingers slot with his. Piano fingers, that’s what Alfred would have called hers. Long, dainty, dexterous, looking almost wrong in the blunt, wide paw of his own. 

(All the better to choke her out with-)

(What the actual fuck-)

(No witnesses-)

(What has she witnessed?)

(You.)

Desperate for a reason to blockade his head, to shove that fucking voice so deep that it can’t reemerge for a few minutes, he scans the area for a distraction that doesn’t involve her neck or his knife.

(She has no idea what she’s playing with. Show her.)

(No.)

(Weak, like you’ve always been.)

(Human. I’m human.)

(Oh, are you now?)

(More than you.)

That gets it to shut up.

“Jason?” he shakes his head, like he can physically make that thing fall out of an ear and far away from him.

“Huh?” Way to act like a normal person, asshole, spacing out to argue with your own head.

“You looked a million miles away.” Her hand squeezes his, her head tilts in a silent question that he’s not going to answer.

“I… just spaced out for a minute.” It’s safer to make her think he’s a bit odd, not straight up homicidal-

(Why do you care?)

(Why are you here?)

“Do you want to keep walking or do you want to go back?” He wants Bruce to pay for leaving him in that coffin, he wants the Joker dead for putting him there, he wants Tim Drake to get the fuck out of Jason’s place in that damn manor, he wants her eyes on him, he wants her dead, or begging for her life, or under him-

He wants a lot of things. None of them have anything to do with this park. 

“I’m fine, let’s keep walking.” 

“Okay, let me know if you want to turn around.”

“Hm.” He can’t look at her right now, not without going a second, third, eighth round with his live-in demon, so he looks at the wildflower lined path and his eyes snag on a dandelion pushing its way through a thorn bush. Tough as nails. 

Pulling his hand away, he crouches and carefully extracts the bloom. Why he does it, he couldn’t answer even if God himself came down and asked. But he does it. And then, following that same impulse, he turns and hands it to her.

(What are you doing?)

She laughs in delight, tucking the little dandelion into her braid, like it’s a treasure and not just a common little weed. Abruptly, he can see more little blooms in her hair, petals glittering like jewels as she lays in a meadow, still as death, but when he blinks the vision is gone. It’s just Anna again, smiling up at him and bouncing up on her tiptoes and there’s a butterfly’s wing worth of pressure on his lips as she pecks him.

They stare at one another, both startled, why did you do that? and then her chin lifts and her blue eyes narrow at him almost in challenge. 

“Did you mean to do that?” Christ, that’s about the least charming you could have been.

“No, but I’ll gladly do it again.” And that short-circuits his head. He knows he didn’t come back with everything, but usually he can tell if he’s hearing hallucinations and right now he’s wondering if that sense is failing. “If that’s okay?”

“Uh,” answer her, you idiot, “yeah, yeah, that’s, uh… really okay. I-if you want?” He sounds like a stuttering idiot and if he wasn’t so floored by her, he’d be a lot more embarrassed about it. 

“Come’ere,” she demands, her free hand snaking up his shoulder to cup the back of his head as she bounces up on her tiptoes again and he at least has enough of his head to complete this step of an age-old dance, leaning down and meeting her, nose to nose, sharing breaths before her head tilts-

The only thing he can focus on is her hand, the way it runs over the short strands of his hair, nails scraping his scalp, the oddly calloused tips digging into the nape of his neck to keep her balance as the kiss deepens. The texture of her dress captures him next, his free hand coming up to grip her waist, steadying her and drawing her closer. It’d be nothing to pick her up, to remove the difficulty of standing by giving her no choice, but there’s something intoxicating about the way she chooses to rely on him instead of him forcing the issue. Her skirt is going to have wrinkles in it from the way his hand clenches tight, dragging his palm from her waist to her thigh, feeling the flex of muscle there as she teeters. The soft kiss morphs away quickly, any innocence is gone, he’s hungry now, starving for the sweetness on her tongue from the ice cream earlier, for the little whine she makes in the back of her throat, for the gentleness in her touch that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with her-

A dog barks and that’s their only salvation. This is a fucking park, but the darkness in her eyes when he pulls away, the desire that he can feel from the way her nails dig into his skin, it almost makes him throw all caution to the wind. Breathe, do you want five minutes now or a few hours later? And that’s what gets him to straighten up, out of her reach. That tantalizing promise with no tangible guarantee is compelling.

“Hm,” she bites her lower lip and he wants to devour her, to consume her so completely he can’t tell where he ends and she begins.

(Do you think she’d let you?)

“Okay?” Back to putting your foot in your mouth-  

“Oh, yes, very,” she laughs, nails digging in again and fuck he’s going to do something very stupid if she doesn’t stop. 

(What the fuck has gotten into you?)

(A taste of normal.)

Because this is normal, no matter his own not normal desires. Here, he’s not the Red Hood, he’s not Jason Todd, he’s not Robin, he’s just a man like a million other men. Standing in a park, kissing a woman he wants. A woman like a million others but like none at all. There’s no darkness-

(Conveniently ignoring all your lies-)

(I don’t know her.)

-just her and him and the little dandelion in her hair that looks like she’s captured the sun amongst the night sky.

“Want to get dinner?” And she’s standing so close to him without an ounce of fear, despite his size, his build, his everything that makes even seasoned criminals wary to cross his path. 

“I know a good pizza place.” In another life-

(this unlife)

-Jason Todd takes a nice girl on a normal date.

#jason todd #batman #my writing #ao3 link

[franks72morrow]

Rumored Buzz on best squishmallows

Around 1,000 of such cuddly characters have been produced For the reason that products's inception. Curious To find out more, we spoke with Gerhard Runken, Senior Vice President of brand name & Advertising, to understand everything with regard to the adorable plush toys, like how the title came to generally be, how the brand amassed such a large next, and which Squishmallows are predicted to be the preferred. So you guess we’re intending to countdown the pretty best Squishmallows you would like in your life today. And when you materialize being buying in the course of slide, you will discover even Xmas Squishmallows to gather. Amazing, ideal? Axolotl's are incredible animals, and now you can find 1 for yourself in Squishmallow form. This a person, Irina, has blue fur and sparkly gills in bright rainbow colours. Excitement Lightyear is often up for a very good adventure, It doesn't matter how large or little. Get a Squishmallow Buzz and prepare to head over to infinity and further than. Squishmallows basically have exploded in acceptance as the worldwide coronavirus pandemic has loomed, so for your earlier yr or so, these mushy plushes happen to be flying off the physical and cyber shelves of retailers just about everywhere. desire a new one particular, In particular a seasonal one which's all decked out for the holidays. Not merely do these Christmas stuffies make great gifts, but In addition they double as festive decor, so we do not blame you for those who grab an extra just one on your own! The subsequent time you've got a Disney movie marathon, you’ll be happy to have this Goofy Squishmallow readily available to provide a decent squeeze. And also you’re not alone — this common decide on boasts a in the vicinity of-perfect star ranking on Amazon following above four,000 reviews. If none of those retailers will work out for you on line, then consider your neighborhood toy retail store or among the list of brick-and-mortar suppliers that have Squishmallows. Luckily, the official Squishmallows website aggregated the entire retailers all through the U.S. that have Squishmallows: There is a big disclaimer here On the subject of purchasing Squishmallows from Claire's. Although the notorious teenybopper shop carries a decent assortment of Squishmallows, in some cases, you may only select a Squishmallow mystery-box-design: as in, you end up picking the dimensions for any Squishmallow on their Web page—twelve-inch or sixteen-inch—and afterwards, effectively, the "model" or character that demonstrates up in the mail can vary. It is really an aquatic salamander with a charming smile. It is a sixteen-inch plush which includes glittery ears. Anastasia likes to prepare, Arrange and make lists, It truly is ideal for types that have a Type A identity. Cam’s Tale: Cam is usually a Beach front-loving cat who loves to go on adventures and dangle together with his two best close friends, Hoot and Wendy. He is additionally a enthusiast of jumping out and in of packing containers and constructing forts. Koalas expend most of their days sleeping, so this one will almost always be obtainable anytime you wish a smooth pillow for napping, lying down, or perhaps taking a load off. Samir's Tale: Though Samir under no circumstances expected to be in charge, he was preferred as a frontrunner simply because he shows characteristics, like kindness and thing to consider. http://alt1.toolbarqueries.google.ee/url?q=https://squishmallowsmart.com to give suggestions whenever you may need support building the best selection. That will help, we’ve assembled this guideline of the eighteen cutest Squishmallows, showcasing a distinct plush For each and every situation. Whether you’re a Harry Potter lover or buying a present for the budding scientist in your family, this checklist has an entire host of one of a kind people, colours and faces that may help you decide which cuddly toy is good for you.

#squishmallows #mart #squishy #best #top #new

[kellycrawford93]

[audio-luddite]

Speakers. Everything is best.

I have said before that over the years I have tried almost every type of speaker.

Big Boxes.

Little boxes.

Heavy boxes

Light boxes.

Acoustic Suspension (not ported).

Bass Reflex (ported).

Planar no boxes (full range dipole electrostatics)

Single driver speakers.

Array driver speakers.

Up down, left right, rear firing......

I know of what I speak as I have done it and lived with it. All those I built with my own hands. All sounded OOOh Kaaay, but always something off.

I have bought only a few factory speakers some to repair, some to just save time. Four sets actually with two of those in my surround system. I always go back to trying it myself.

I know golden ears will try any type and will find something to like or love. Yet designs for speakers are loaded with contradictions. Some factors one designer will deem critical will be cheerfully ignored by an equally successful design.

These are some speakers on today's local Craigslist in Vancouver.

A space age droid thing all curves to avoid diffraction effects I guess. Too small for bass and phase alignment is a distant dream. Kinda fugly.

Simple small boxes with square edges. Too small for Bass but at least the drivers face the same way.

This looks like one of those "what was he smoking" designs. But I see a real reach for minimal diffraction and wide dispersion and probably decent bass with enough power. Very low wife acceptance factor and room placement critical. I just call them ugly.

A classic set of Klipsch Heresies they knew everything in 1958 dint they?

Here are some big boys. Big array of woofers and planar tweeters. Low rent Infinity IRS copy. Probably OK sound, but hard to make work in a room, which is why the guy is selling them. His electronics are really good.

A classic pair of Magnapans. I do have a soft spot for these, but dipoles have more problems than solutions. I can tell from how they are sitting they are not set up even close to right.

Bose 901s truly awful in a real room, though this set has the equalizer that in most cases has been lost. Also this is the back side of the speaker, but the guy probably doesn't know that.

And finally a pair of ADVENTS. Not bad in all respects. Basically solidly competent. But not wonderful.

Each one of the above was an attempt to build a good speaker. The designer seized upon an idea and ran with it. Boxes, no boxes, round, square yadda yadda. They all came up with different solutions dint they? I know the one factor not considered was the room they went in. That almost never is. In truth speaker set up is all about moderating the room effects. There are reflections from all the surfaces and depending on the wall materials and furniture the room has a sound.

You can tell from the sound if you are in one room or another or outside cant you? Those big boys need a BIG room, lots of power, and lots of "sound treatment" to tame the nonlinearities. To varying degrees these all need it. If you don't have that they will not sound their best or even very good. All that matters. And it worries me when casting about for ideas.

Another thing is that when "properly" set up all these here have to be placed away from walls and close to the "listening" chair. The trick is to hear the near field so your brain filters out the first second and third reflections from the room. Your brain is part of the system remember.

Or if you just want to party slam them against the wall and make room for dancing.

So of course everything is not best. The golden ears like what they like, and what they have come to expect. So is there best?

If I won the lottery I would own none of these or their brethren.

An Asymptote is a mathematical curve that approaches but never reaches a limit value. That is like high end audio is it not? Some things work better others less so, if lucky you get just a bit closer to the illusion of music. (Or steam trains passing if that is your thing)

#high end audio #stereo speakers #audiophile #audioblr #cheap audiophile #illusion of music #Steam trains

[ctrl-alt-bucky]

Bucky: yeah im thick

Bucky: thick and tired of Steve's lack of self-preservation

#sorry steve #you goddamn dumbass #incorrect stucky quotes #stucky #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #steve rogers #captian america: civil war #captain america: the winter soldier #captain america #infinity war #almost typed infinity ear #avengers: endgame #no endgame spoilers #i guess #incorrect mcu quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #incorrect avengers quotes #stucky headcanon #bc lets be real this has got to be canon