#but also how big of a middle finger would it be if the league all helped pay to show they agree with the rangers statement

[asterias-record-shop]

Bingo out of their league Ethan Landry where the reader is hot (obvi 😘) and everyone is always complementing her and flirting with her acting like Ethan’s not there. One night They’re watching tv and she just wants him. He never told her he was a virgin because he thought she’d leave him for someone more experienced but she just praises him through it. 

—𓆩[so good, baby]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - REGULAR AU! Ethan Landry x Fem! Popular! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.9K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Ethan wasn’t someone people thought would end up with you, but it didn’t stop you from getting him to fall for you, like it was hard. He never told you about his inexperience, but when you start teasing him during tutoring and bring him back to your house, he can’t really stop what he thinks will happen - not that he wants to.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || reader is popular and a cheerleader || reader wears makeup and revealing clothing || bitch tries to tease Ethan but you show him who’s boss || bitch also tries to flirt with Ethan and you do the same cuz you a boss bitch || public teasing || public blowjob || exhibitionism || oral in a library under a desk || maybe nympho reader, could be seen that way? || multiple orgasms || self-degradation || bossy/whiny reader || more oral || fingering || unprotected sex || creampie || multiple orgasms || breeding kink ||

“Ethan, honey, are you going to walk me home?” You rubbed your fingers against his wrist, your pink pleated skirt showing off your lace underwear as you leaned over the bleachers.

“I-I have to go to tutoring,” he explains quickly, making you pout. “You can come with me though.”

“Are you tutoring or getting tutored?”

“I-I’m tutoring,” he says as you rub your hands against his chest that was covered in your favorite blue button up. “D-Do you want to come with me?”

“Can you… cancel?” You giggled, moving your hands to hold his collar. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

How? Would you give him a blowjob like he always wished you would, slobbering all over his cock in the middle of your apartment your father bought you?

“Y/N, baby, I canceled the last two sessions, I don’t think I can-” he paused when you pout, sighing. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“I’ll just come with you, no big deal,” you shrugged, but he knew you were somewhat pissed off because you were still pouting - that was before you started to smile. “Did you book one of those private desks like always?”

He paused, but nodded. “Y-Yeah, I always do… it helps them focus, why?”

The private desks in the library were away from others in a group setting, multiple desks secluded reserved mainly for the tutoring sessions that had a special divider in between the two sides of the desk. Foggy glass separated the different cubicle-like studying areas, and wood separated the legs of the two students.

“Let’s go now so we can get there early.”

“Hey, Y/N! I can see those pretty panties baby, they for me?!” A voice yelled, Ethan’s eyes snapping toward the voice with reddened cheeks.

“Fuck off, you pervert!” You yelled, quickly standing up straight and pulling down the back of your skirt. “Let’s go, Ethan, I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Where are you going, baby, come on! Careful, that weirdo that always follows you around is right on your tail!”

You paused, turning around as Ethan quickly stepped back so you wouldn’t run into him. “Are they talking about you?”

Ethan shrugs, his brow furrowed in anger as his fingers shake. “No, honey, they’re talking about that weirdo that always follows you around - yes, they are talking about me.”

He doesn’t expect you to grab his collar, pulling him down for a firm kiss as you hummed against his lips. His hands immediately go to your hips as your tongue pushes into his mouth, a loud groan leaving his lips as you let your feet plant against the ground and pull him down with you.

You pull a hand away from his cheek to grab his wrist, pulling his hands to hold the back of your thighs as he bent down. You hummed as you push your tongue around his, slowly pulling away with a smile. “We should go to the library.”

Ethan nods, head bobbing as you dragged him toward the main library building and to the private desks. The person he was supposed to be tutoring wasn’t there, not yet at least, so as Ethan was going to grab you a chair you had disappeared. “Y/N,” he whisper-yelled, looking around before something pushed a chair into his thigh and you peeked out from under the desk. “Y/N! What are you doing?”

You shrugged. “I want to sit down here. It’s comfy.”

“Y-You… Do you need me to get you a pillow? Or something?” He asks, making you giggle.

“If you can find me one.”

Oh he’d find you one alright. He wasn’t going to let you sit on the dirty carpet floor of the library. It took a few minutes but he did find somewhat of a pillow, which was a cushion broken off one of the chairs, and he quickly brought it back for you before the student he was supposed to tutor got there.

It didn’t take her long to get here, a textbook and notebook in hand as she quickly pulled out the chair and apologized for being late. “I’m sorry, Ethan, I completely forgot it was today and I had to rush to get here.”

“No worries.”

He gasped when he felt your hands on his thighs, rubbing against his denim jeans. He flinched as the girl continues to talk, droning on as your lips press against his crotch. His eyes rolled back, hips uncontrollably bucking as you unbutton his pants, grabbing his zipper with your teeth before he peered down at you, eyes hazy.

You looked so innocent, like you didn’t understand what you were doing was wrong - very, very wrong. “Is this okay?” You mouthed, and he nodded.

Why wouldn’t it be okay, you were about to suck his dick like a lollipop.

When you didn’t though, he let out a soft huff as he tried to teach this girl calculus that he had learned in high school was proving more difficult than he originally planned. It wasn’t until you started licking him through his boxers, sucking and rubbing making his hips buck.

“You alright, E? Can I call you that?” The girl leaned forward, smiling as she tapped against the paper. “You sure you know how to do this?”

Ethan hummed, gasping as you pulled his cock out of his underwear and licked a firm line from his balls to his tip. “C-Can you go get some more paper? I think w-we’re going to need it.”

She hummed, standing as she pulled up her skirt and started to walk away, sashaying her hips.

“She’s flirting with you, Ethan,” you say, rubbing his base making him whimper. “Gonna show her you’re mine.”

He wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement as you pulled him fully into your mouth, whatever couldn’t fit was being rubbed by your spit covered hand. He could feel his eyes roll back, head resting in his elbow as he groaned against the table, your hot mouth something he had never felt before in any way making him whimper.

Your head bobs, squelching echoing from the bottom of the desk as he exhales shakily against the desk, hips rutting into your mouth. Your jaw goes slack as you let him use your mouth, his rolling hips that were being supported by the rolling chair as you bobbed your head to match his pace.

He let out a strangled moan as your fingers squeeze and rub his ball sack that still sat inside of his boxers, sweat beading on his forehead. He desperately wanted to be louder, show everyone how good you were making him feel under this desk, your mouth hot and soft and wet and just pure bliss.

“Y-Y/N, baby, I’m so, so close. You feel so good, you make me f-feel so fucking good.” He said it into the bottom of the desk so that you could hear him, the position odd as he arched his back so he could speak to you. “Fuck.”

“Are you going to cum in the library, baby?” You whisper against his tip, licking his slit. “Gonna fuck my mouth and cum deep in my throat? Are you going to use my mouth just to cum and get off? You can baby, you can.”

He groaned, reaching down to hold your head against his cock, thrusting as fast and hard as he could with minimal movement of the chair. It was difficult for it not to move, a loud gasp leaving his lips as he came down your throat, eyes rolling back as he covered his mouth with his hand.

The girl he didn’t care to know the name of sat back down in front of him, but you don’t get off his cock as you continue to bob your head slowly to continue to milk his cock. He lets out a soft whimper as the girl pauses, raising a brow. “Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine.”

She leans forward, attempting to push her tits out. “Ethan, right? It is Ethan, right? I haven’t been calling you the wrong name?”

He nodded, covering his mouth before pulling a hand away from the back of your head. “Y-Yeah, it’s Ethan.”

“Well, Ethan,” she giggled, tossing her hair back. “Why don’t… you do my homework for me and I’ll give you something worth your while?”

You pushed Ethan’s chair back enough to step out, zipping up his jeans as you stood before patting the button. “You got that last part, darling? Let’s go home and finish.”

You wiped the remaining cum dripping from your lips, giggling as you grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the library as he struggles to button his jeans back up.

It doesn’t take you both long to get back to your apartment, sitting him down on the couch. “Put on a movie for us? I’m going to change and take off my makeup.”

“Oh, okay,” he clears his throat as you walk to the restroom, opting to wear no clothes and taking off your makeup before walking out. “Hey! I chose your favorite, I know you like-”

“Shut up, Ethan.” You straddle his hips, pulling his lips up to yours as he gasps. “Open your mouth, please? Open?”

He nodded, opening his mouth and lulling out his tongue as you pushed your fingers in, coating them with his saliva before pushing them down to your cunt. He pulled you closer, groaning into your mouth as one of his hands swiped along your slit. He softly stroked your entrance, joining your fingers before pulling away. “Y-Y/N, Y/N baby, I’ve never done this before. I-I don’t know how-”

He stops when you pause, eyes wide. “You… this is your first time?”

He blushed, nodding as you slowly pulled your fingers away from your clenching cunt.

“Was that your first blowjob?”

He nodded again, looking away before you grabbed his chin with your wet fingers, smiling. “Well, did I do good?”

“So good,” Ethan whispered, nodding. “So, so good.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You say, stroking his hair. “I would’ve… done it somewhere more special.”

“Baby, anything is special if it’s with you,” he says quickly, shaking his head as he leaned into your chest. “Anywhere, anytime. I don’t care as long as all my firsts are with you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, eyes watering before he kissed under them. “Oh Ethan, don’t make me cry.”

“I will but in a good way,” he says, smiling up at you as you laugh. “Now, teach me how to please you.”

Those words led you to lay on your back on the soft couch, legs spread wide for him as he experimentally pushed a finger inside of you. His face scrunched in pleasure as his middle finger slowly pushed inside of you, your spongy walls clamping down on his digit as he slowly pushed it in knuckle deep.

You squirmed slightly, Ethan looking up at your calm face. “I-Is that not enough?”

You giggled, shaking your head. “You should add another finger. And use your mouth.”

“L-Like how?” He leans down, licking experimentally against your clit before letting it slide down the slit. “Like that?”

He could feel you shiver, watching as you nodded. “Y-Yeah, like that. Just like that baby, that’s so good. So good, baby.”

He nodded slightly, letting his lips latch onto your clit and suck harder as he started to move his fingers, pushing another finger inside of you. It’s difficult at first, your tight ring of muscle not letting his other finger pass before you buck your hips forward, both easily sliding into you as you moan loudly. It was a little painful at first, just because his fingers were so stiff, but he relaxed them and slowly began to thrust them in and out, curling them inside of you.

You gasped as his fingers got faster, thrusting in and out as he sucked on your clit, letting his teeth graze the sensitive bud. A whine leaves your mouth as you buck your hips, his mouth sloppy and messy and letting spit mix with your arousal. Loud squelching fills the living room as his fingers press into that perfect spot inside of you, stroking and pushing as he groans against your clit. “Is this it baby? It feels tough, my darling, like a button.”

His words were even more inexperienced than him, even though his actions weren’t proving it, his fingers flexing and thrusting in just the right places. Your eyes roll back, loud moans falling from your lips as he continues to stroke and press against that perfect spot, and his mouth messily sucking on your clit made everything blur, a loud groan leaving your lips as he gave one last press and your stomach tightens, hips bucking uncontrollably into his mouth.

He groaned loudly as your walls tighten, his fingers almost unable to move before he moved down to suck against your entrance and was finally able to pull them out. His fingers were wet and sticky, tips pruned and wrinkly from how wet you were, but he pushed them into his mouth before basically diving between your legs as though it was a feast.

He was messy and uncontrollable, your fingers in his hair to ground yourself from how quick his tongue moved and how his teeth grazed against your sensitive areas every once in a while. Your hips back into his mouth, loud moans falling from your lips as he groaned into your pussy before pulling away, mouth gleaming. “D-Did I do good?”

“So good, E, so fucking good.”

You watch as he sits back on his feet, quickly unbuttoning his pants before pulling out his dick, pumping to make a picturesque dribble of cum leak from his tip. “Fuck, do you have a condom? Do you want me to wear one? I can go get one.”

You shake your head. “N-No, don’t worry about it. Just fuck me, please Ethan, fuck me.”

He nodded, swallowing as he attempts to push his head into you, gasping as it slips and goes up instead. It was embarrassing, his grip going farther up to try and steady himself, though he fails again with a loud groan.

“Ethan, baby, calm down,” you say, spreading your legs wider with an attempt to relax yourself and your cunt. Who wouldn’t be excited when you would be fucked into cloud nine by your sweet boyfriend, taking his virginity was just the bow on top. “We got time.”

He inhaled deeply, steadying himself as he pushed his tip in slowly, whimpering as your cunt clamps down on him. You were tight, warm, soaked and just perfect as he held his breath so he wouldn’t cum, he couldn’t cum just from putting it in. He gasped for air once he bottoms out, your nails shakily dragging against his back with a loud whine. “Y-Y/N, you feel so good. I’m going to cum soon, I can’t stop myself, you’re just s-so perfect.”

You shushed him, stroking his hair. “You don’t worry, baby, don’t worry at all. You just need to do a quick snap and roll of your hips, okay? You’ll get the hang of it.”

Oh and did he.

He wasn’t true to his words, he was edging himself as he thrusted into you, gasping and groaning as your nails dig into his skin and dragged down his back. “Fuck, fuck Ethan!”

You were moaning nonstop, the thought that he was doing this to you, a fucking virgin was making you moan like this was making his ego swell as he got faster. He grunted loudly, tilting his head back as he groaned loudly when you clamp down on him once again, jaw clenching and Adam's apple bobbing while sweat dribbled down his temple.

He didn’t even know that he came until you started to roll your hips, his stomach burning as you whimpered softly. “Ethan, you’re so fucking good. I came, I came again when you did, please keep going. Please?”

He nodded, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your lips. “Only if you keep telling me how good I make you feel.”

You nodded immediately, gasping. “I will. I will.”

He grinned, licking his teeth. “A virgin made you cum, baby. And he’s about to fucking fill you.”

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[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter one

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

warning . . . tbd )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . .i wanted to thank everyone for the amazing feedback i got on my teaser. i hope the first chapter isn't too much of a let down after how long i made you all wait, i promise the wait for the next chapter won't be as long. also max will be in the next chapter )

Y/N was completely and unequivocally in love, the kind of love that made you feel like you were 14 years old in your room crying to Taylor Swift’s ‘You Belong With Me’, the kind of love that hurt more than it felt good. When she moved to London, desperate to get out of her sleepy town in the English countryside, and applied for a job to be the personal assistant to somebody who was then a relatively unknown professional footballer; she could have never imagined that this is where she’d be 5 years later. Y/N had joined Mason Mount’s team just as he had joined Derby County on lone and due to the fact that the man had just moved to a brand-new city away from all of his friends and family, the pair quickly bonded and developed a relationship that became more than one of an employer and his employee; they actually became friends. So, when Mason moved back to Chelsea at the end of his loan and they gave him the chance to upgrade to an assistant with much more experience working with premier league football players, he turned it down; likewise, when Y/N was scouted by another footballer who was offering more money and better hours, she also turned it down. They were happy. They were friends, maybe even best friends. Why then did Y/N consistently feel like something was missing? For months she couldn’t put her finger on it, couldn’t understand why she wasn’t completely happy, it wasn’t until one day when they were sat having one of their infamous movie nights that she understood what it was she was feeling. Despite Mason living in a penthouse apartment in the middle of London worth millions of pounds, their movie nights always took place at her flat, a much smaller one-bedroom place in, to put it bluntly, a much rougher area of the city. They would sit together on her sofa and put on a movie, (usually a cheesy late 90’s to early 2000’s romcom). And one day, she found herself watching Mason rather than the movie; she watched him watching the movie intently, giggling at the funny bits, tearing up at the sad bits, and she realized that she loved him.  

Every so often she thought that she should maybe put some space between herself and the footballer, to try and move on from her feelings for him, but then he would do something that would reel her back in, something that would make her think that maybe she had a chance. He would fall asleep cuddling her on the couch, he would dance a little bit too close to her at a party, he would seek her out after winning a big game and hug her so tightly she couldn’t breathe. But then she would overhear him telling Ben and Reece about his latest conquest or she would get a text message from him 15 minutes before he was due to come to hers for a movie night cancelling because he had a date. To put it plainly, she simply just did not know where she stood with her best friend. Despite sometimes feeling like there could be a chance of more between them, she never said a thing to Mason, valuing their friendship too much to risk it; so instead she just went about her life, following her best friend and the man she loved around the country, always hiding how she truly felt, or attempting too at least. There had been a few times when she was spending time with Mason and his friends, that one of them would catch her looking at Mason. There was one time when Ben actually asked her about it, asked if there was anything going on between the two friends, she had told him that there wasn’t, of course, but she could tell from his facial expression that he didn’t believe her. Truth be told, a lot of their mutual friends were worried about the two of them. 

So, when Mason and Y/N walked into the club together despite living in completely different areas of the city, Ben and Reece exchanged a look, wondering how their teammate could be so clueless. The rest of the night they watched the way the pair interacted; they watched the way that Y/N would look up at Mason with such love in her eyes whilst Mason looked at her like he would look at any other friend. They were caught between a rock and a hard place, they wanted to tell Mason what they knew so that he could stop leading her on, but they didn’t want to betray Y/N by telling her secret. Even though she was Mason’s friend more than anyone else's, they both really liked her and wanted to protect her from the hurt that her situation with Mason would inevitably bring. But when they caught sight of Mason sat with his arm thrown around the shoulders of the girl, periodically leaning in and whispering in her ear, they knew that they needed to saw something; and when Y/N walked up to the bar and got chatting to somebody on the way back, Ben knew that this was his opportunity. 

“Mason why did you and Y/N come in together, aren’t your places on opposite sides of the city?” Ben asked his best friend already knowing the answer to his question. Despite the fact that Y/N worked for Mason as his assistant, the pair were close, very close; so when they arrived to the party in the same car, Ben didn’t have to wonder too hard about the reason why. “Oh, she was at mine for a movie night last night and she was too tired to go home so she stayed.” Mason told his friend matter-of-factly, not seeing what the issue was or why his friend in front of him looked so annoyed. Even if you took away the widely inappropriateness of an employer having his employee stay at his house, there was the small issue of the fact that Y/N was madly in love with Mason and had been for years now. As much as she tried her best to keep it hidden, the only person in their circle that didn’t seem to know about it was Mason himself. Ben and Reece had a conversation a few days before, discussing whether they should tell Mason as from an outside perspective, even if it was unintentional, he did seem to be leading Y/N on; they both knew their friend extremely well, so they knew that he didn’t have the same feelings that she had for him and they knew that if Mason knew the full story there are aspects of his relationship with her that he might change.  

“Look mate,” Ben started, unsure of exactly what to say but knowing he needed to say something. “I think you should know that Y/N has feelings for you” Mason’s brows furrowed, completely taken aback by his friends' blunt honesty. “What? No are you sure?” he asked him, truly hoping that he was mistaken or playing some kind of prank. “I’m 100% sure, it’s obvious to be honest with you mate. You can see it in her eyes when she looks at you, she really truly loves you. Having her stay at your place and being that close to her, it’s going to make her think that someday you two could be more than friends, so if that’s not the case then you really need to reconsider doing things like that as it isn’t fair on her. Y/N’s a good girl, you know that she deserves to be happy.” Ben’s words make Mason’s head spin. Y/N was more to him than just his employee, she was one of his closest friends, but he really didn’t see her as anything but a friend. “Oh, fuck Ben what should I do?” Mason asked with his brain completely frazzled at this point, 15 minutes ago he was feeling great, he had just had a great day with one of his best friends and then then he came to a party to blow off some steam after a very stressful week, but now it seemed like everything had come crashing down. “I think you need to speak to her, make it clear that you value her friendship but you don’t see her as anything else, let her down gently.” he told Mason who simply nodded before starting to walk towards the girl in question who was at the bar talking to one of the other players girlfriends., the second Ben realized what he was trying to do he put a hand out to stop him from going over there, causing Mason to look back at him with a puzzled expression. “Maybe telling her right this minute isn’t the best idea though mate, considering you’re in public. Not to mention the fact we’ve all got that trip planned for the Spanish Grand Prix in a few days, maybe you should wait until after that. If things don’t go well that could make the whole trip so awkward.” Ben pleaded at his friend, but he could see on Mason’s face that his words were going in one ear and out the other. “Fine go, but be nice to her and you better not ruin the race for everyone” he relented, taking his arm off of his friend and letting him walk towards the unsuspecting girl.  

“Hey Y/N, can we talk?” Mason asked with no regard for the fact that she was already deep in conversation with somebody else. His bluntness combined with the pained look on his face made her recognize instantly that whatever he wanted to talk about wasn’t likely to be lighthearted. She hesitantly followed the man as he gestured for her to come along to a quieter part of the bar. Before she could ask what was going on, Mason had already asked her a question that made her stomach sink - “Do you have feelings for me?” She had absolutely no idea how to answer his question, of course she knew the answer; she had been pining after him for years at this point, but she just wasn’t ready for him to know that yet. “Will you please just answer my question?” he almost demanded, his harsh tone making her freeze. Looking up at her best friend with tear filled eyes she muttered the last thing he wanted to hear - “Yes”. Her voice was so faint that it didn’t come out as anything more than a whisper but to Mason it was the loudest thing he had ever heard. Y/N had imagined having this conversation with Mason so many times, imagined herself finally telling him that she loved him but in all her fantasies, in all her daydreams, he had never flinched like he had done just now. “Mason I -” she started but stopped in her tracks when she saw tears forming in her best friend’s eyes. “How could you do this Y/N, why would you ruin our friendship like this?” he asked her in genuine disbelief. Mason watched the girl stood in front of him stumble over her words, clearly not expecting to be asked that question, before putting her almost full glass down on the table and running out of the bar. 

In all of the daydreams she had had where Mason found out she loved him, he didn’t react like that in any of them, even the ones where he told her he didn’t reciprocate her feelings he was never that harsh, never that heartless. Y/N was nothing if not a realist, she truly didn’t expect him to come to her and tell her that he had always loved him too but she at least thought he would try to be nice about it, try to protect her feelings as much as possible, tell her that no matter what they would always be friends. Instead, he basically told her that their friendship was over, and she was the one responsible. She didn’t even have to wonder how Mason found out about it either, she knew Ben knew and she had also seen Mason and Ben talking moments before he came storming over to her. More than anything she just felt stupid; stupid for believing that somebody like Mason would ever love somebody like her, stupid for putting one of her most beloved friendships on the line over a schoolgirl crush, stupid for running away instead of explaining herself to him.  

“Y/N, are you okay” she heard a voice come from above her, breaking her train of thought. She was sat on the floor outside the club, staring into space clearly lost in thought, looking certifiably insane. Looking up she saw Reece James stood before her. There was no question that Reece knew what had happened but even still Y/N wasn’t sure if she should talk to him about it. Whilst she was closest to Reece out of all of Mason’s friends and teammates and she would consider him to be a friend, he was still Mason’s friend before anything else. There was also a good chance that anything she does tell him would be repeated to Mason. As if he could read her mind, he spoke again “You know you can speak to me right, I’m not going to tell anyone. I’m sorry that Ben told him by the way” he sat down on the street next to her. “It’s okay I don’t blame him; I understand that he wanted to protect his friend” her words were met with Reece shaking his head, “No actually I think he wanted to protect you” he said causing her brows in confusion. “He tho- We thought that the way he acted with you was a bit unfair, doing things that were giving you hope that you could be more than friends. Mason’s not a bad guy and he wouldn’t do that stuff on purpose, so we wanted to make sure he knew what he was doing.” Y/N looked up at the man's face, his serious expression laced with sincerity; she could tell that he was telling the truth and that he and Ben truly cared about her and wanted to protect her from hurt. “Thank you, Reece, make sure to tell Ben that I’m not annoyed at him for saying anything.”  

“Of course, I will. I know we only know you though Mason but you’re our friend as well okay, remember that.” He said before he threw his arm around her pulling her into a hug. “So what do you think is going to happen now?” he asked her. “Oh I really don’t know, he seemed pretty mad at me. I think I’ll probably leave the Grand Prix this weekend though, give things a chance to cool off”  

“What no you can’t do that, you love F1 and it’s your first opportunity to go to a race, you can’t miss that because of him. Worst case scenario, go and stick with me. You can’t give up those sweet paddock passes, what if you meet a cute driver eh?” he said jabbing his fingers into her sides playfully teasing her in an attempt to get her to smile. “I’ll think about it” she said, attempting to fight the smile on her face but to no avail. “You going to come back in or are you going to head home? We probably look crazy sat out here like this” he asked her and she paused thinking about it, she thought about going back in and trying to talk to Mason, to try and fix everything. After a moment she shook her head “No I think I should give him some space” Recce nodded understanding her decision before walking over to a cab and giving them her address along with enough money in cash to cover her journey three times over. “You get home safe okay” she nodded before thanking him for being to kind to her tonight. Just before she had the chance to close the door he spoke again “Y/N wait, are you going to be okay? I could call someone if you need?” Again, she found herself smiling at the care Reece had shown her. “No, I’ll be okay, I always am” 

Tag list-

@nightlockcornucopia @jaydensluv @girlytots19 @formula1mount @alwaysclassyeagle @aundercover @sofifiia @dessxoxsworld @lpab @lorarri @thelovehypothesis @torrie421 @ironmaiden1313 @celesteblack08 @glow-ish @urfavouritef1girly

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #football x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fics #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

[loraliewritesthings]

Nameless Danny au: The twin

Concept:

Danny phantom being damians twin and ghost king au.

It had been years since Damian walked the cold halls of the league. In that time threw acceptence from Dick he learned that no, his twin was not a waist of life. That he and his twin had been pitted against each other. That the hatred Damian had held for his twin wasn't healthy and neither was relishing in his death.

Bruce tried not to think about it, about a boy around damians build lying limp on the floor. Nothing made him feel better when he thought about it, so he pushed it to the back of his mind. But his mind was a steal trap, one that baby that was never even named could never escape from.

Talia was the one who threw soon to be danny in the pit. Not out of love (at least that's what she tried to tell herself) but to be rid of him. She thought of it a final chance. A final mission. If her son could find a family that would raise him, after being abandoned in the middle of a random city, then she would permit him to live.

Ras was glad to be rid of the other twin. Why waist resources on such a weak child. Honestly he knew what Talia had done and simply didn't care to correct her. The child was gone and he didn't have to worry about someone bringing him back out of spite. After all his daughter already did that.

And as years passed, and the dust settled the nameless boy seemed to slip threw the cracks into the world of memories.

That is until years later when the envelopes appeared.

An rsvp letter to a coronation. The ghost kings coronation. All in silver and gunmetal and ectoplasm green. But no reason to why the letter had been sent to it's recipients

Damian held it limply in his hands and for a brief moment it felt like home. He couldn't explain it, didn't understand it. In the end he assumed it was the pit stirring inside him calling him to this so called ghost king. He took the letter to his father.

Bruce, also having received a letter was running tests and doing the work to find out what exactly could protect him (and by proxy the world) from ghosts. Having talked to colleagues (who were both thrilled and nervous to hear that there was a new ghost king) he settled on blood blooms. So he and his son readied themselves for a fight may there need to be one. They checked the box and green surrounded them.

Talia didn't know what to think. Ras wanted her to check the box already, but she felt it could be a trap. Yet there was a part of her. A quiet voice inside telling her to do it. Check the box, sign the letter. In the end she gave in. The light surrounded her, a green brighter then the pit ever was.

Ras waited for Talia to check the box first. He wanted to know what would happen. If she would die. After all he could always throw her in the pit. When she didn't die but disappeared he decided, yes he would go to this...coronation. It would be a good time to make an ally after all. The light absorbed him and he disappeared.

Bruce, Damian, Talia and Ras stood in front of what had to be the ghost castle, decorated with garlands and other displays.

When the four made eye contact is when Bruce put two and two together. Whatever this was it had to do with either Damian or...

He didn't get to finish his thought. A girl rushed out of the castle doors holding the finger of a massive knight and pulling him along. The child looked remarkably like him and he wondered if this was the new ghost king.

She curtsied and began to speak until she got a closer look at those before her.

She paled and whispered

"Oh...Oh no. You're not supposed to be here."

But it was too late. The procession had begun and they were pushed in with the crowd.

The boy. He really was a boy and not some big frightening being stood at the throne.

Damian gasped.

Talia froze.

Bruce's eyes narrowed.

Ras backed away a bit.

They had all done their research on how powerful a ghost king was... and there was a boy exactly Damians age. Eyes a little greener, white hair, and barely paler in a dead way.

Each of them knew at once.

Danny look into the crowd. He recognized almost all of them. He had studied well for this after all. Cause even if he didn't exactly want to be king, a king was needed to keep the infinite relms in check.

It was Jazz standing beside him who pointed them out. The four people he didn't want there more then anything.

He had forgotten about them for a time, until the lab accident brang it all back. His bio family.

He knew it must have been a mistake.

He had told Jazz about them after some time. Sobbing in the middle of the night. Asking why neither set of parents loved him.

Jazz squeezed his hand. They'd get threw this.

And with that the ceremony commenced...

#danny phantom coronation #ghost king danny dc #dc x dp #i have ideas #loralie is annoying #coronation #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #bruce wayne #damian wayne #talia al ghul #ras al ghul #i love coronation aus #i literally couldn't help it lol. #let me know if anyone wants more #fanfiction #headcanon #thingy #crossover #ghost king au #edited to add the fic name #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc #Nameless danny au

[ryleigh130]

Okay, I wanna request something sweet and lighthearted since there has been angst in all of them so far 😭

So here is it: ghost with a young reader who's new to the team and cleary looks up to him a lot. Like, starryeyed expression when he kills someone in a "badass way", tries to do things the way he does, is quick to question other people but when he tells them something it's just "got it" and takes it for a fact, follows all his orders immediately, etc

They basically act like a kid around their idol, idk XD platonic of course

Little Duckling - - ryleigh130

Characters- ghost, mentioned: cap. price, gaz, and soap

Word Count: 1k

Relationships- platonic!ghost & gn! reader

Warnings- profanity, pet names, 3rd person pov, usage of c/n [code name/call sign]

Note- Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it! Prob a little OOC but I tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Also I HATE the ending so we can just ignore that but I literally had no clue how to end it.

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

The Task Force 141 operated in the shadows, a clandestine unit of elite soldiers executing covert missions with lethal precision. Among them was you, [c/n]. You’re the newcomer to the team with a solid reputation after graduating top of your class for your stealth and deadly accuracy. But, with being the newbie on the team it left you feeling lost and little loney. The team made sure you felt welcomed but even so, you still felt out of place in the big leagues with some soldiers being almost twice your age. You yearned for a connection, a friend, someone who you could share your woes with, a soul in the unforgiving world of warfare.

You had joined the task force with a singular purpose - to prove yourself. You had trained relentlessly, honing your skills to perfection, but the weight of expectation bore heavily on your shoulders. Surrounded by seasoned veterans, each with their own tales of heroism and glory, you felt like a mere shadow in comparison.

But amidst the sea of faces, there was one who stood out - Ghost, the enigmatic figure cloaked in mystery and intrigue. From the moment you set foot in the base, you were captivated by him, drawn to his aura of quiet strength and unwavering resolve. Where others would turn away, you would draw nearer. You couldn’t explain it but to you, Ghost radiated safety and comfort so, you started to seek him out. You began to think of Ghost as more than just a teammate; he was a mentor, a brother almost, a guiding light in the darkness of uncertainty.

Despite your initial standoffish demeanor towards the rest of the team, you found yourself gravitating towards Ghost, seeking his attention like a moth to a flame. You watched him with a mixture of awe and admiration, hanging onto his every word with rapt attention. To you, Ghost was the epitome of everything you aspired to be - skilled, fearless, and utterly unyielding in the face of danger.

It wasn't long before your admiration for Ghost became apparent to the rest of the team. You would often be seen hovering at Ghost's side, offering to assist him with tasks or simply basking in his presence. The others found it amusing, the way you looked up to Ghost with such reverence, they often teased you about it on the strange occasions you weren’t seen with him.

“Well, well, well, look who it is, the little shadow” Gaz would tease with Soap right behind him,

“Where’s Ghost today? You’re usually so far up his ass we barely ever see you!” You responded to these comments with a simple eye roll and a classy middle finger, to which they would reply by laughing. Captain Price would even sometimes make little comment on your infatuation with the lieutenant,

“There’s the little duckling, is Ghost near I’ve been looking for him?”

Ghost, for his part, was initially taken aback by your adoration. Used to operating in the shadows, he was unaccustomed to being the object of someone's admiration. But there was something genuine about your reverence that touched him, a purity of spirit that he couldn't help but admire.

Over time, Ghost began to warm to you, offering guidance and encouragement whenever you sought it and occasionally referring to you as “duckling” in a somewhat affectionate manner. He saw potential in you, a spark of brilliance that only needed to be nurtured to flourish. And so, he took you under his wing, teaching you the tricks of the trade and imparting his wisdom with a patience born of experience.

Your bond deepened with each passing mission, forged in the crucible of conflict and tempered by the fires of adversity. You looked to Ghost not just as a mentor, but as a confidant, a trusted ally in a world fraught with uncertainty. And Ghost, in turn, found solace in your unwavering loyalty, a beacon of light in the darkness that surrounded them. You both might not have noticed, but you have each helped heal something inside both of you. Together you work each day to heal the past inside both of you and overcome the challenges the day presents you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#cod mw2 #john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #fanfic #simon ghost riley #fluff

[lostamongthestarz]

Zatanna x trans!male reader x Constantine headcanons because they both own my heart

Tws//none all fluff, not following canon at all

❗❗FEM READERS ARE ON THIN ICE, DO NOT FETISHIZE MY WRITING, I WRITE THESS HEADCANONS FOR MY FELLOW TRANS MEN❗❗

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

These two adore you, absolutely adore you.

Pda with Zatanna and Constantine in public is just hand holding and gentle touches, in private- their all over you. Get comfortable on the couch because your going to be trapped there while these two wrap you up in a warm embrace

Soft kisses everywhere, Constantine loves to plant quick kisses to your lips before heading off on his way while Zatanna likes to give you soft kisses all over your face before she leaves to do her own thing

If your pre!top surgery then Zatanna and Constantine will make sure no mf says a word, anyone tries some transphobic shit torwads you and their ass is getting clocked by not only Constantine but Zatanna as well

If their out one night busy with justice league stuff and they come home to you asleep in one of their jackets/trenchcoats? They melt

If your strong enough to pick both of them up do it, Constantine loves to brag about how strong you are to everyone and anyone who's unfortunately stuck next to him.

There is no big spoon/little spoon with you three, your in the middle while the two of them are on either side of you eith their arms wrapped around your waist (the dream fr)

If you go to one of Zatanna's shows and cheer her on she looks at you with such love in her eyes, meet her after the show and she gently cups your face and just plants so many kisses to your face

If your going through body dysmorphia then Constantine and Zatanna will do their best to make you feel comfortable

Making you tea/baking and or cooking your favorite foods

Whispering sweet compliments in your ear while they hold you close, maybe while the three of you lay in bed- Constantine's cuddling up by your side with Zatanna running her fingers through your hair

Listening to you talk or rant about one of your interests or something that's on your mind

Or if you just need to cry/get some negative feelings out they'll hold you or just give you space if you ask for it

If your non-human and also do magic then the three if you quickly become a power trio, Constantine will not shut up about you two ever

You dont have many nicknames with these two but they do like to call you

darling

love

beloved

They love you and would actually clock a mf for you <3

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

They are in my brain

Requests open <3

Inbox open 💌

#x male reader #x trans male reader #john constantine x trans!male reader #john constantine x reader #zatanna x reader #Zatanna x trans!male reader

[eskawrites]

sports anon got me thinking about a ronance volleyball au so headcanon list let’s go

Nancy is a fiercely clever setter, she can take in the whole court and make a decision in a split second and her precision never falters

she has a rough first couple of years dealing with hitters who can’t keep up with her--and jealous hitters who just want every set to go to them (looking at you, Carol). but once she and Robin start working together she really shines

Robin is an opposite hitter (she’d be a great outside too but i lowkey hc her as a leftie so she’d do great as an opposite, plus the backwards set-spike combo is so fucking beautiful)

a setter who consistently sets to her opposite over her outside would also probably throw people off, at least in shitty midwestern public school leagues (yes this is from personal experience), so Nancy and Robin get a few easy points that way

Robin takes a while to find her confidence on the court. they place her front row because she’s taller than most other girls, but she’s clumsy and nervous during her first year or so. no one hits the net more often than her and yes Nancy yells at her about it at some point

she figures it out eventually though. gets her form down, learns to place herself better, gets better at spatial awareness. and once she starts actually trusting herself to do it right? damn is she powerful on the court

even after Robin and Nancy start getting along more, no one actually thinks they’re that close until Robin rolls her ankle during a hitting drill. she’s coming down from absolutely nailing a back row attack and lands directly on a loose ball. it’s actually really harrowing, watching her go from a perfectly controlled jump to a crumbled heap on the gym floor. but no one reacts more than Nancy, who rushes to her side, already snapping at the freshmen who let the ball roll loose, then turns so gentle as she tries to help Robin. she doesn’t leave her alone until they get Robin off the court and their coach forces Nancy to get back to work

it’s not a serious injury, but Robin does have to sit out for a few games. she does her best to play it down so she can keep playing, but Nancy is the one who calls her out on her bullshit and forces her to rest (this is incredibly hypocritical of her and everyone on the team points it out. Nancy tells them all (except for Robin) to shut up)

Max is libero btw. and she’s constantly covered in scuffs and bruises from diving to get the ball, but damn if she isn’t the best passer they’ve ever had

Nancy only paints her nails before a big game. the color doesn’t matter, but the feeling of the polish itself is just enough to make her more aware of her finger placement, so she makes no mistakes while setting (like she makes mistakes anyway

once they get closer, Robin starts painting her nails for her as a way to help her de-stress before a game

Karen Wheeler is volleyball mom. Ted hasn’t been to a game since Nancy was in middle school but Karen has never missed one. she coordinates meals for the team before away games and follows their summer league with plenty of sunscreen and a cooler full of gatorade

Mike is reluctantly dragged along to a lot of Nancy’s middle school games, and once he gets older he fully intends on never going to one again, but once Max joins the team Lucas makes everyone go to support her and him, Dustin, Will, and El are immediately so into it, so Mike finds himself dragged to all of Nancy’s high school games, too

Robin and Nancy both help run the elementary school volleyball camp in the spring. Holly always goes because her big sister is there, of course she does. but the year Robin and Nancy start dating, Holly chooses Robin as her pepper partner every single day. Nancy tries so hard to be jealous, but she can only barely manage to hide how fond she is

Max and Robin pepper whenever they need to have a serious conversation. it gives them both something to focus on that isn’t the heart-to-heart and makes it easier for both of them to open up

Nancy and Robin practice serving together and they’re super competitive about it. Robin has the best jump serve on the team and she can put so much power into it--she’s great at nailing those back corners. but Nancy has this gorgeous topspin to her serve and she can get the ball to drop almost as soon as it clears the net, so she’s great at putting the opponent setter out of commission. every other team in their district hates both of them

Nancy is so damn hard on herself and takes every loss and even some of their victories really personally. after hard games she’ll sit alone at the front of the bus, curled up against the window, going over every little detail of the game and all the things she could’ve done better

she tries to push Robin away when she tries to sit with her, but Robin just stays quietly by her side. eventually, Nancy will uncurl and lean against Robin a little bit, or they’ll talk softly about it

other times, after better games, Nancy will fall asleep with her head in Robin’s lap, and Robin will play with her hair and hold her in place on windy roads so Nancy can sleep peacefully

#ronance #volleyball au

[jawritter]

My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 5

Summary: Y/N, Sam’s roommate, so far have a pretty good thing going. Both work and function around one another well. What happens when his big brother comes down for the holidays with his mysterious past, mixed with Sam’s own mysterious previous life? Can Y/N and the grumpy older brother find a way to get along? Or will it be a not so happy holidays at the Winchester house?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Sized!Reader x Sam

Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt: Snowing On Christmas

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo​​

Rating: Mature (because of future chapters, this story is 18 + only, and not fit for minor consumption.)

Warnings: It’s getting warmer... Inside at least...

A/N: This is the first Christmas fic I have written in a long time! You guys will get this one real time, and I hope to finish it before New Years! Fingers crossed! Anyways, This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my won! Feedback is golden! My work is 18+ only! No minors! Thanks so much for reading!

Main Masterlist

As much as she'd had to drink the night before, she thought she would have slept better, but nope! Instead, while she slept off the copious amounts of liquor Sam had poured into that horrible eggnog, her dreams were filled with soft, pink lips, and swimming green eyes. 

Then, by two in the morning, she was wide awake. Which sucked, not only because of the obvious lack of sleep, but also because laying there in bed, her mind racing, all she had time to do was let her mind wander. That can be dangerous.

When she lets her mind wander, it tends to point things out that are hurtful. Things she already knew about herself but hated. Like the fact that she most likely completely misinterpreted Dean's actions last night. Surely, it was the alcohol they had both drank. There was no way in hell that Dean would be interested in anyone like her. He was a good bit older than her, and so far out of her league. 

Men like Dean wanted those beautiful women with hard bodies that looked amazing no matter what they were wearing. Women that had flat stomachs and spotlessly clear skin. Women whose thighs don't always touch together. Women that wore perfect makeup and had soft beautiful hair. She was NOT one of those women, not by a long shot. Men like Dean usually showed up with Victoria Secret models. Not overweight, knocking middle-aged girls that hadn't even slept with a guy, much less been noticed by one in over two years. 

God she hated when her inner voice was so brutally honest. 

She was just about to force herself out of bed and into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, at least then she'd be doing SOMETHING instead of just laying in bed thinking, when a tentative knock sounded at the door. 

Immediately, her heart jumped from her chest to her throat. She knew Sam never knocked. That only left one other person in the house.

Another soft knock sounded, and Y/N knew she needed to say something, so she cleared the knot in her throat, and was able to accomplish a tentative, "come in".

She watched the door, wandering for a moment if she'd imagine the knock, if she'd just finally gone crazy. Then, to her utter, and maybe even ridiculous surprise, it opened ever so slightly, and Dean’s face appeared just shy of the crack he’d made in the door. His hair was a mess, and he was still in his pajamas. It was more adorable than a man that was in his forties should be allowed. 

“Morning,” he voiced, holding up a cup of coffee through the door. “I come bearing coffee!”

“How long have you been up?” She questioned, sitting up slightly and fussing to fix her hair that she was sure was sticking up at all angles. “And how did you know how I liked my coffee?” 

Tentatively, she reached for the cup he held out to her, taking a sip of the warm, comforting liquid, mostly because her throat still felt tight like it was going to close in on itself.

“Watched you made it yesterday, remember?” He stated, and she blinked at him in surprise, she had no idea he’d been paying that much attention to her. “I’ve been up for a few hours now,” Dean confessed as he settled himself on the foot of her bed, leaving a respectful distance between them. “I don’t sleep much anymore.” 

Just then, outside the window in her room, the sound of wind hit hard on the side of the house, and Y/N shivered in spite of herself. She usually didn’t mind the cold, but it had been cold this year, even for Detroit’s standards. 

“Is it still snowing outside?” Y/N questioned, and Dean nodded furiously. 

“At this rate, I think I might end up having to be here until after New Years,” he admitted, eyes drifting back towards the window. “I mean, I’ve heard of people wanting a white Christmas, but this is a little bit ridiculous.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes for a moment as realization dawned on her that it was indeed Christmas day. She'd been so worked up yesterday that she'd clean forgotten the holidays, she was far too focused on Dean.

"It's Christmas day already," she mused allowed more to herself than Dean. "I hadn't even realized…"

"Neither did I," Dean admitted somewhat sheepishly. "Not until about five minutes before I saw your light turn on in here."

Y/N hummed, taking another swig of coffee from her mug as a suddenly heavy silence fell over the room. 

"So, what are you gonna do when you go back home too…?" 

"Kansas," Dean answered for her, his thick fingers picking at a loose thread of his pajama pants. "Honestly, and I haven't even told Sammy this, but I'm not sure what I'm gonna do yet."

Y/N sat up a little straighter, sitting her half empty coffee mug on the bedside table next to her. 

"What do you mean?" She questioned, and Dean ducked his head in a way that was almost bashful. It made her heart flutter just a little. 

"I quit my job three days before I came here," he admitted, and Y/N's eyes damn near popped out of their sockets as she listened. 

"I thought… I thought when I was told I'd never be able to do field work in the FBI, that I'd do something like Private Detective work on my own. Ya know, help people that really need it, and not just what the feds say you can do. But now… I don't know. It just doesn't get me up in the morning anymore." 

The solemness in his words were almost tangible. She knew that feeling, all too well. She'd found herself there a lot lately, but to hear someone as attractive as Dean say it, it was startling. 

"Well, you're not too old Dean, you're still young enough to change things if you're not happy."

Dean chuckled humorlessly to himself. "Baby I'm not exactly 22 anymore, ya can't just start over when you're my age. But what other choice do you have when you've had all you can take in the shit you're in?"

"Oh come on!" She attempted to tease him by nudging him with her covered foot. "It can't be that bad! Look at you! You're attractive—"

"So you think I'm attractive?" Dean immediately teased back, and Y/N blushed so furiously she could feel the heat boiling up from her toes all the way to her face. 

"Oh stop it," she insisted as she hid behind her covers a little. 

"Don't hide from me, pretty girl," Dean said, and was so stunned that it must have shown on her face, because it made him laugh. 

"What? You don't believe me?" He questioned, and she shook her head no furiously as she blushed for what felt like the millionth time. 

"Not even a little," she revealed. 

"Well, you are," he insisted, as he tentatively made his way up the bed to sit a little closer to her. 

"You're too nice to me Dean," she insisted as he settled himself next to her. 

"No I'm not, but I got a feeling that not nearly enough people have been as nice to you as you deserve," he voiced. 

She looked down at her hands that were folded onto the covers in front of her, refusing to meet his ever pricing gaze. He was right, and the tone of his voice seems to prove that for her. But still, there was no judgment in it. 

"Yeah, well, I guess life isn't always fair," she admitted. 

"You're not wrong," he said as he reached over and grabbed her hand in his massive one before lacing their hands together. "I can assure you, I've seen just how many monsters are out there, but I've seen some pretty amazing things too, and you're definitely one of the most captivating women I've ever met."

Y/N smiled and blushed as she looked away from him, but she didn't pull her hand away. The weight of it around her own was comforting. 

Just as she was about to speak, the door burst open, and Sam came staggering in, half sleep dazed, half annoyed to be awake. 

Dean didn't pull away as she'd expected, he merely shot his baby brother an annoyed glare. 

"There you two are, I was about to start breakfast," Sam announced, still completely unfazed by the fact that Y/N was sitting on the bed next to his older brother with her hand in his. 

"Is that how you enter her room? Ever heard of knocking?" Dean questioned in a mildly annoyed tone. 

Sam just snorted as he turned to leave the room. Apparently quite amused at his older brother. 

"She knows I love her. Come on you two, it's Christmas morning, it's snowing, it's ass off, and I want to Y/N to see who the real lightweight in this house is, but first food."

Y/N giggled, mostly at the sheer bitchface Dean had made while he watched him leave, and just like that, just at the sound of her laugh, Dean melted from grumpy and annoyed, to a much softer version she'd seen moments before. 

Somewhere, way down, she was still questioning herself, but watching him just now, the way he'd been with her this morning when he didn't have to be? It made her think that maybe he really did like her, but it was going to take some convincing herself to believe it, that maybe, just maybe, he felt some of the things she was feeling when she looked at him…

"Come on," Dean said with a huff. "Let's go drink that little bitch under the table, then maybe you and I can spend a little time together later? Just the two of us?"

"I'd like that," she admitted, taking the hand he'd extended to her to help her stand up out of the comfortable confines of her bed. "I'd like that a lot." 

Chapter 6 HERE!!!

Forever:

@demongirl1996​​​​​​​​​​​  

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe​​​​​​​​​​​

@jensenslady79​​​​​​​​​​​

@spnwoman​​​​​​​​​​

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Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma​​​​​​​​​​​  

@impalaslytherin​​​​​​​​​​​

@perpetualabsurdity​​​​​​​​​​​

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#my brother's keeper #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester series #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #x reader inserts #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn series #spnchristmasbingo #spnchristmasbingo2022

[swordandscytheandpen]

Breaking into book five and ANAXARES IS BACK BABEY! And physically described for what I think is the first time.

Tanned in the way of the Free Cities, he was dressed like a beggar in worn robes too loose on his frame. Which was thin, though not the thinness of the heathy. He looked like he’d had too many lean meals, or perhaps like the fire in those grey eyes had eaten away at his body from the inside. The Hierarch of the League of Free Cities, for this could not be anyone else, was middle-aged and balding. His eyebrows were thick and bushy, both they and his sparse beard warring between white streaks and dark brown. One of his boots, I could not help but notice, had been so poorly sown back on the sole was coming off at the front. I looked at him, saw him scribbling on a clay tablet while intently following the proceedings, and felt the slightest bit of fear. He looked like no one, I thought. But coming from his body like an invisible current was some deep and terrible power the touch of which could be felt over all of Rochelant. It was not reaching into my mind, not yet, but it felt as if raising my hand would allow me to feel the unseen ripples.

"He looked like no one, I thought." Ohh yes yes yes, that's not insignificant. Names are reflected in their holders' appearances, and this is a very different kind of "looking like no one" than you get with, say, Scribe. Anaxares' appearance reflects the fact that he sees himself as an ordinary everyman, as part of the People. This is another point of evidence to my other post: Amadeus is mad at the gods because they're unfair to villains; Anaxares is mad because they're unfair to everyone.

Now, while I of course fully expected Hierarch to be behind the mobs — it was pretty heavily implied, though that might admittedly have been my own wishes — I'm fascinated by how powerful the effect seems to be:

“That’s an aspect,” Indrani said, voice hushed. “Gods, how can that be an aspect?” “Andronike?” I asked. The crow-goddess did not reply for a long moment, until I turned my head to look at her. If a bird could look uncomfortable, I saw, it would be something like this. “This is… difficult,” Andronike said, voice tight. “The pull is strong.” My fingers clenched. “You’re having a hard time fighting him,” I croaked. “What the Hells is this, Andronike? He’s Named, not…” “Faith,” the crow got out. “This is faith, Catherine Foundling. Pure unadulterated belief, untainted by doubt or hesitation. It sings, and the world sings back.” “Faith in what?” I asked. “Nothing,” Andronike hissed. “A snake eating its own tail. It is bleak madness screamed by endless throats, and it would stand tribunal over the Gods themselves.”

... I really was expecting Anaxares to be... subtler, I guess. Raw power and supernatural influence certainly weren't what I thought I'd see, at any rate, though the display might seem subtler to ordinary folk. Clearly there have been some internal developments since his run-in with the Bard. What's the aspect, I wonder? Incite? Instigate? It clearly relies on others — I wonder if it could be deployed against an army, or even the Dead King's forces? The latter I doubt, but the former could be a fascinating challenge for Catherine if applied to her own forces.

I have two guesses for how this could be employed in the story: number one, the Serenity. Nobody seems to have any real thoughts on how to deal with the Dead King's personal Hell yet, and this seems like one of the few things that could make a dent without causing mass death. That said, it feels, narratively, more like the Serenity will eventually be some kind of big challenge for Cat. Having to choose between slaughtering a huge group of mostly innocents (Evil But Effective Choice) and trying in vain to convince them to turn against Neshamah (Good But Useless Choice) seems like the sort of story beat that would fit better for her. I guess I can also see that happening and then deploying the Hierarch as a sort of compromise, cheating the story yet again, but I dunno, it doesn't click for me quite.

The second possibility, which I see as more narratively plausible, is that the Hierarch will end up killing some big-name hero who publicly oversteps. This would probably take the form of: some hero (probably Hanno, Judgment is his whole thing) makes the unilateral decision of killing a villain, maybe Black or Kairos, who has recently done something helpful and/or proven themself useful. The hero commits this murder in a public setting, the general public is pissed about it, and Anaxares' aspect incites or empowers the People to tear the hero limb from limb. But this prediction has its own problems, in that it denies Anaxares the chance to actually transcend the games of Names. This scenario would suborn the People into a weapon in the contest between Named, and unless I've misread Anaxares' Role, that doesn't really fit either.

So I suppose what I mean to say is, I have no idea what might happen with this aspect, and the above two paragraphs were basically short-form fanfic.

As for the faith part, this brings to mind the idea of "true faith" some modern vampire media like VTM uses, where faith in anything has a material effect, so long as it's faith. (Was it Doctor Who that had the vampires repelled by the faithful Communist?) Has there been any previous indication that Creation runs on belief-rules? There's Sve Noc, at least, brought to power by constant implicit sacrifice. But I don't recollect any other use of faith as a material force. We haven't been enlightened as to the intricacies of priestly powers, so it could be that the Lanterns get their juice from their own faith... but it could also be gifts from the Gods. We don't have a ton of evidence either way here, as far as I remember.

Still, "standing tribunal over the Gods themselves" is exactly what I was hoping for, and it's what I sensed a whiff of in my post on Anaxares' confrontation with the Wandering Bard. Anaxares is similar to Amadeus in that he opposes the Gods and what they have deemed for the world, but the details of his view are vastly different.

Black, though he might kill me for saying so, operates off of spite. I don't remember the passage, but he has said that he seeks victory for Evil "to prove it can be done," or something along those lines. He's so furious at the state of Creation that he wants to invert it. Anaxares doesn't. He believes in a different authority entirely.

“You are Cordelia Hasenbach,” the man stated, half-questioningly. A moment passed, while I was genuinely at a loss for words. Ah, I thought. So this is why the Tyrant thinks he can make a pawn of you. For a heartbeat I debated actually pretending I was the First Prince just to see if I could make some trouble for her, but discarded the notion just as quick. Best not to roll dice when they had teeth and a noted fondness for biting. “Catherine Foundling,” I replied. “Queen of Callow.” If he felt embarrassed about the mistake, he didn’t show it in the slightest. “There’s no such thing,” he told me sternly. “Queens or Catherine Foundling?” I said. “Because one of those debates is a lot more philosophical than I’m equipped to handle.”

Hee hee. But it is fascinating just how divorced Anaxares is becoming from worldly affairs. He started as a diplomat, remember — originally, he may have been wholly subordinate to the First and Greatest of the Free Cities, but he was still very involved in foreign affairs. He's changed a ton since the start, and some fraction of this change was since his run-in with the Bard. Names tend to do this to people, it seems, separate them from reality in favor of their ideals, but they don't do that without personal development and/or a story behind the shift.

“Is this why the League has gone to war?” I asked. “To end crowns?” There wasn’t a single thing that changed about him, I thought. He was still a skeleton of a man in ill-fitting robes, a scarecrow with a scowl. Not a single thing had changed, and yet… If I strained the ear, I could hear the chorus. The howls of the mob. Chains ripped apart, palaces toppled and bones being crushed. Torches starting a fire that would spread across the world. A song of revolt, of rebellion. I could feel it, like warm wine running through my veins. It was harsh and unforgiving, but oh how glorious it was. How easy it would have been to partake of it and let that warmth swallow me whole. “We are all of us free or we are none of us free,” the Hierarch of the League of Free Cities said, voice like steel. “There is no middle ground. And for the lashes struck at our back, all will be called to account – if gallows must be raised for devils and angels alike, so be it.” I almost, out of sheer contrariness, pointed out that devils did not die but only disperse. But would they really, if it was this man passing the sentence? Suddenly I was not so certain. My mistake, I thought, had been trying to think of him as either a terror or a fool. Fear had dogged me, wading through his aspect, but it had retreated as we spoke. As the man proved to be so uninterested in his surrounding as to be lost. I’d allowed the cadenced little phrases, the obvious mistakes and ignorance, to lull me into believing him… adrift. Living in his own world. But Black had warned me about people like this, hadn’t he? About Named who did not see Creation as it was but how it should be. Men and women who embraced their vision so deeply they bent the world around them to match it. My mistake, I thought once more, had been to believe he must be only one of the two. He was not. The Tyrant of Helike had not sharpened this blade so carefully to cut a mortal empire, I decided. There was a broader game unfolding.

So where's Kairos aiming? The Heavens and Hells don't seem like the kind of entites capable of rising in revolt, even with an effect this strong. The Bard is a clear and obvious enemy of the Tyrant's, and one shared by Anaxares at that, but this isn't the kind of weapon that can hurt her. She doesn't have cities or armies, she's pretty much as divorced from that as possible. Hell, she could be excommunicated from every society on Calernia and still be almost as effective. I can't see the broader picture here, and it's frustrating. As much as I love him, this story does not end with Anaxares victorious; that's not how this works. He isn't going to liberate everyone.

But it's conceivable that he carves out a larger republic somewhere, and that republic works as an engine of... whatever this is all on its own. That sounds plausible, albeit not likely. It fulfills the "fire that would spread across the world" Cat hears, and surely Anaxares understands that he can't just go to every single city on Calernia and start riots. We don't even know what this place is going to look like after he leaves. But of course Anaxares has an answer to the "how are you going to win" question:

“War against Calernia,” he said amusedly. “As if tearing down masters was the same thing as warring on their slaves. You betray yourself, tyrant. You think I wage war on them?” The stylus flicked at the crowd of Procerans. The axe went up, the axe went down. Another dead man, dragged into the alley. “The old faceless thing bade me to choose a side,” the Hierarch said. “And at long last, I have.” My eyes narrowed. The old faceless thing. There weren’t a lot of entities out there that would fit that epithet. Anaxares of Bellerophon smiled, crooked teeth bared. “You think us outnumbered?” he said. “How many of us are there, tyrant, and how many of you?”

Again, he was a diplomat. Anaxares may not be so very smart, but his understanding isn't that shallow. He's got to know that it'll take more than a few loose sparks for the world to go up in flame. Which means he's not being entirely forthright with Cat, he's mostly antagonizing her, like in his letters. His only real goal can be to strike a blow against the Gods, or more likely, their proxy — though that is difficult for reasons stated above.

But there's something else I want to talk about. See, I got a fair few chapters into Book Five while I sat on this post.

Okay, fine, I got to chapter 72. What do you want from me.

But the point is that, having come back to this post fresh off the coup attempt in Salia, I see a parallel. Anaxares views his chosen mortal ideology as above even the Gods, and is strongly implied to have the power to enforce that. Cordelia is exactly the same. She sees the rule of Proceran law as superior to the law of Above, and is able to exercise that power to such extent that she forces a Name back down. It's not the same ideology, sure, but it's mortal. That's the important part. This is the start of a pattern, and we know how those work in the Guide.

And it's no coincidence that these two cases — Cordelia and Anaxares exercising their very human ideologies — are the only two times we've actually seen the Wandering Bard upset, angry, and even surprised. I think I'm starting to see the shape of this story, mortal beliefs triumphing over Above and Below, and if it's followed through on it could be very impressive.

#mine #long post #apgte #pgte #a practical guide to evil #practical guide to evil #anaxares #sorry that this post isn't so long as it could be. i've got a limited amount of juice to spend on active pursuits #e.g. writing analyses of niche web serials that only a couple thousand people have read

[coolfire333]

So basically here's part 1 of ? of me dissecting Porky's issues in mother 3 and how that stems from what he's experienced in earthbound: I think that Porky is gay and is heavily confused/in denial of it, which is reflected in his obsession with Ness and his behavior in mother 3.

In mother 3, there's an oddness around Porky's fan women found in one of the rooms in New Pork City. Porky may appear physically aged, but in reality he acts exactly the same as he did when he was 13 in earthbound. So why is he suddenly interested in having a room of women to pamper him when this didn't seem to interest him in earthbound? Personally, I think that in developing the image of his empire, this is what he thinks that powerful men are "supposed" to have, and is doing it as a part of a checklist for success.

I'm sure many of you have been inundated with images of powerful men needing to have a league of attractive women to dote on them, and the world of earthbound seems "normally modern" enough for this to have possibly been the case with Porky. If he was indeed gay and struggling either with denial or confusion over this, he'd likely lean heavily into stereotypes about what straight men are supposed to enjoy.

In mother 3 he has money, an army, scientists that do his bidding, a city named for him, a league of devoted (brainwashed) supporters, so what's the last thing for a powerful, assumedly straight man to do but to have a group of women to feed him snacks and tickle him under the chin. Like the rest of New Pork City, it's an extremely cliche and fake-seeming detail, something that doesn't feel like what Porky actually wants in life but rather what he thinks success looks like.

Looking back at earthbound given this detail, it's odd that Porky doesn't focus in on Paula as much as he does Ness. She's a powerful, kind, pretty girl his own age, so why not try to go after her affections? He has her kidnapped once, and probably had some say in her second kidnapping, yet he never tries to pull a Bowser move and try to get her to be his love interest during any of this.

He does clearly think about her occasionally, which makes sense considering that he probably vaguely knew her, as Onett and Twoson are right next to each other and Paula is a big deal in Twoson. And in mother 3, he even sells a fake frying pan alongside a fake bat and red cap that clearly represents Ness, and also sells a ribbon described as "the ribbon of an angel" that is a reference to Paula and her pray ability.

But Ness, not Paula, is the target of all of Pokey's affection, and his hatred. He keeps a whole shrine in his room in mother 3 for the "best friend's yo-yo" that clearly once belonged to Ness. In earthbound, he taunts Ness constantly and specifically, such as when he pretends to forget Ness's name in Fourside, when he could just as easily target any of the other kids. He begs Ness to be his friend again after Happy Happy Village, only to immediately taunt Ness for "falling for it," and he taunts Ness a third time at the end of the game, calling for him to chase after him like they're playing some kind of twisted cosmic game of tag.

There's also an odd detail of the oxygen supply machines that my boyfriend pointed out: Dr. Andonuts likely designed them as a middle finger to the pigmasks and Porky by extension, as the machines work perfectly as intended but are clearly designed as mermen with big lips you have to kiss to recieve oxygen in order to make the presumably largely straight male army of pigmasks uncomfortable.

But remember that Porky is a petulant, obsessive child at heart, and everything anyone else does for him has to 100% conform to his standards. That's why he prefers robots (and the chimera-ified brainwashed Claus) as servants and maids; they're programmed to obey his orders without question.

So Porky would absolutely have a say in the design of the oxygen supply machines, and if he didn't like it, he'd make Dr. Andonuts go back to the drawing board. So why keep them like that? Well, if Porky is indeed gay and in denial over this, he could literally see nothing wrong with handsome mermen robots kissing you on the mouth to give you oxygen, so he'd be oblivious to the fact that some men might be uncomfortable with this.

Alright so I've talked a lot about Porky and his feelings towards Ness, but what about Ness's feelings towards Porky? Well, Ness is Porky's friend, full stop. He seems hesitant to say yes to being friends with Porky when asked, but also recognizes the unhappiness of Porky's life as well as his envy of Ness when confronting the vision of Porky in Magicant, so he clearly has some sympathy for him despite everything he's done.

I think that Porky to Ness is that one childhood friend you had that in hindsight was kind of a jerk, either to other people or even to you, but you were still friends with them for some inexplicable reason. But Ness is implied to be very close to Paula, and it's implied in his mom asking if she's his girlfriend that he probably has romantic feelings for her instead.

And I think on some level Porky knows this, and knows that Ness likely won't reciprocate his feelings, and instead of going out on a limb and confessing his feelings for Ness (he'd probably get shot down but at least he'd get it off his chest) or trying to let those feelings go and wait for someone else to come along that he could potentially crush on, he bottles all of his feelings for Ness (and his gayness in general) inside him and refuses to express it in a healthy way.

He lashes out at Ness, taunting him and calling him names, but he wants nothing more than to be like Ness, and to be liked by Ness, at least as a friend if not also as a crush. This is reminiscent of the old cliche about little boys who hit or are mean to girls "secretly having a crush on them."

Some boys who do this are just being mean with no romantic feelings attached, but for those who for which this cliche is true, they're expressing their feelings in an unhealthy way because 1. they're young and make stupid impulse decisions and 2. they're probably trying to suppress any uncomfortable feelings they might be dealing with by taking things out on the source of those uncomfortable feelings: the object of their affection, and I think this is exactly what Porky is doing with Ness.

#long post #mother series #mother 3 #earthbound #porky minch #ness #paula jones #talking #text post

[moon-is-a-cryptid]

WHAT! NO WAY!! TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OCS!

Ok ok lol I have sketches of them all but I don’t have my book

so you saw

kuma, kuma has a shape shifting ability to give her the power strength and abilities of the animal she chooses to change into, she can also communicate with animals. Using her quirk too much causes her to become more animalistic in whatever animal form she is in until she transitions back, when she does she will need a nap. She has the ‘black cat gf’ personality and her hero name is Druid, she’s dating kirishima and met him when the Bakusquad went in a camping trip in the forest she patrols when a villain attacked!

Next we have

Kasumi has a quirk similar to Minas where she can produce toxic substances instead of acid, when these substances are produced depending on how kasumi feels is the intensity and can cause melting if she’s angry enough, she can control it like a water bender with water, creating weapons and being able to just throw is and such she is also immune to her own burns. But a downside is she has to wear a gas mask when she fights because the toxic environment can make her pass out if not careful. it leaks from her eyes giving her a cool drippy affect. She has neon yellow hair and her eyes have toxic symbols in the middle of them. Kasumi ran around protecting her own area in Japan hero’s called the ‘underground’ she met bakugo her bf when she got sent to UA to officially get her hero license after running into the hero’s and explaining what she was doing, they told her to continue she needs to get her license. Bakugou enjoys how feisty is and she never backs down from a fight (Dude I love the way I deigned her hero costume 😩 I gotta show you) her hero name is Toxoplasm

Emiko

Emiko has a floral quirk giving her the ability to grow plants anywhere in a medium radius including her body, she’s runs a flower shop as she never had the heart for hero work! She’s a big softy with a big heart she’s studying psychology as well! She had long brown hair that it typically braided back with flowers in it, honey colored eyes and glasses! If you couldn’t tell I like to use her for my shoto fics when I have one in mind 😂

Kijo

Typically goes by the name Whinny because she has a winter quirk called snow storm this quirk is the total opposite of Dabi’s quirk and when used too much gives her frost burn that riddles her skin in bright blue spots. She can freeze anything within a large radius and give someone frost burn just by touching them. Her favorite way to get information is to freeze a hand and break off fingers :) She finds the league after meeting toga while they both were running from the hero’s, Kijo protected Toga so toga thought she would do well with the team, Kijo after joining has a situation ship with dabi because both of them have trauma and can’t do emotion things well. Kijo has grey eyes and medium length pastel pink hair her and dabi work well together as she cools off his quirk and his quirk keeps her warm. she also flirts hella hard with toga. Civilians call her the winter death

And lastly

Alexandra

Alex is from Scotland has a digital quirk she calls pixelated giving her the ability to move through electricity and the internet, this quirk gives her the option to basically have the internet in her eyes like scanners, she can also take certain things like say a sword from a video game and use it in real life but once it’s damaged it turns into pixels that she can hit towards people, this quirk gives her constant headaches and she cannot shut off the scanners that she calls her eyes. Despite having a hero license she works as a support item tech only using her hero stuff for emergencies her eyes help her figure out the best ways to build or fix items. Her hair is medium length Ruby red that is kept up in in a high pony ponytail she has glasses to help with headaches and her eyes glitch between colors. She met her boyfriend shinsou when she got called to Japan from her home to build gear for the hero’s. She has a very “are you fucking stupid, please leave me alone” (that’s the best way I can describe it) attitude at first but once she warms up she’s a tired goofball who lives off coffee. Her hero name is glitchy. Because of her quirk it’s easy for her to hack into systems and get intel as well… people are scared to leave electronics around her

I have one in the works no name yet with a moon quirk who has a twin with a sun quirk 😩

#g.moonchaser🌙🗯️ #moonchaser🌙 #the lovely lemons🍋🍋 #moons asks 🗣️ #moons OC #I’ll see if I can get my sketches for you

[bacchicly]

BIG TROUBLE IN RIVER CITY: A GARVEZ CASE FIC (PART 7) 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7

Paring: Penelope Garcia x Luke Alvez

Summary: The team makes a plan to trap the unsub and delivers the profile. This is a “happier” (i.e. there is no talk of Luke and Pen breaking up) / stand alone version of the case fic which suddenly appeared in the middle of my lovers to friends fic (Deep and Crisp and Even). 

Words: 4000ish

Content This Chapter: Mentions / examples of fat hate. Sweraring. Mentions of CM type violence / themes. Luke thinking about how much he loves Penelope - while trying to keep their relationship a secret.

Content Overall Story: CM type violence / themes; unsub; sex (but can be skipped to or away from as I will put it in stand alone chapters - like PART 2); mentions/examples of fat hate.

✈✈✈

The ballroom is thick with tired wired cops.

The BAU Team take their seats in their own corner - no one looks particularly chipper but everyone is alert.  J.J. empties a big bag of M&M's into the ice bucket she brought down from her room and plunks it in the middle of the table.  Tara has snagged a handful before the plastic container has stopped shuddering from the mini impact - her hand bumping against Emily's on exit.

"So?" asks Luke as he pulls out a chair for Penelope since her hands are full with the laptop she picked up from the tech nerve centre on the way, "What's happened. Matt says there's been another victim?  It seems fast."

Penelope is typing even before her butt hits her chair -  which Luke is now pushing in for her.  The team exchanges a hidden smile but Luke and Penelope are oblivious. Spencer catches a few of the uniformed cops smirking at his solicitous colleague; so he serves up a first rate Paddington / Prison Yard worthy "hard stare" on their behalf and is somewhat chuffed when the cops turn away and are suddenly pressingly busy with some investigative odd or end.

Rossi catches the exchange and pays tribute to Reid's chivalrous defence with a smiling nod. Spencer catches the unspoken praise from the elder agent with a blithe crook of his lips and a raised eyebrow.  The exchange is brief and further covered by the attention going to Prentiss' response to Luke's question.  

"We're not completely sure if this death is not due to natural causes - let alone connected to our unsub - although there are some similariti-"

Penelope's fingers keep flying across her keyboard even as she cuts off her boss. "Fat-ish. Thomas Green, age 34, was heavy for his height. But as far as I can tell he was unlikely to be someone targeted by our unsub - firstly not that the world does a good job of parsing these things - fat is fat in a lot of people's eyes - but Mr. Green was nowhere near as heavy as the other victims. Also, no significant other. No history of confidently dating around. No children.  Mother lives in Connecticut.  Lives alone. Good student. Participates in an intramural Ultimate Frisby league.  A member of several online gaming communities.  Enrolled in… his 1st year of an online Master's program…in…ahhh… Biomimicry?! Interesting. I am not saying Mr. Green is definitely not a victim but I wouldn't have flagged him as one based on what I am seeing."

Tara's question is directed at their Unit Chief but her eyes are glued worriedly on Penelope, "So - who did flag this death as a potential victim and why?"

Penelope growls.  “No idea. The ambulance report certainly didn’t set off any of the digital alarms I set.  Although one thing did rise to the surface with my collating program about 45 minutes ago - it seems like all the victims are at least tangentially connected to a municipal boxing program for under-priviledged youth.  Which - again as far as I can tell - is not the case with Mr. Green.”

Prentiss lets her breath out in a soft whoosh.  She hates that her agents may have gotten called out of bed for a false alarm - she would normally have been more circumspect but the local police chief had just been so adamant.  But now that they are up…

“That is a great lead, Garcia. To answer Luke’s question first.  As Rossi pointed out on the jet - this unsub is devolving so we have no way to estimate how quickly soon they will reoffend - but what we do know is there is something about the 6th of the month that is important to the unsub and that the shortest times between victims - without counting what we now realise were a couple who were killed on the same day - was just over 24 hours-”

“Which happened in November and was most likely an attempt to get back ‘on schedule’ ”, Spencer adds air quotes to the words in a way he would never do if not so tired, “after the first round of deaths that he didn’t manage to execute on the 6th of the month. But since the 6th of January isn’t pending, I do not think that duration is a solid predictor of the unsub’s current timeline.  I think looking at the more recent breaks is likely a better predictor - and that pattern suggests that - while devolving - the unsub will wait at least 4 to 6 days have past - my guess is as long as the unsub feels that their message was heard that will meet their needs enough for now and if - they are not able to hold on to January 6th - they will at least try to time the next death on the 26th as a stand in.  So I would agree with Penelope - I don’t think this death is a victim of the unsub - but since we are coming up on the 4th day without a death and the pressure of the holiday could accelerate the timeline in ways that are hard to account for…it might…” Spencer gives a meaningful look at the Agent who, once upon a time, was their press liaison.

J.J.’s starts to nod. “So far we haven’t talked very much about the press strategy - beyond agreeing to not take any precautions against the story being picked up and coaching the local PD’s press liaison to stick to the release - but maybe we should do a bit more to make sure the case is hitting the news in a way that could buy us some time?”

“Can you and Rossi go and-?” J.J. nods smartly as Rossi stands, his head cocked in a question that a defeated sounding Prentiss answers without him having to ask. 

“Yes.  It’s a go.  Can you brief J.J.? It needs to be part of the new press strategy and if we can catch the morning news cycle... The team and I will take exactly 15 minutes to sketch out a preliminary plan and then I will brief the Police Chief while everyone else will be ordered to sleep - we only have four hours until I’ve promised the profile.  Rossi - JJ find me here or swing by my room after you’ve dealt with the release - knock hard if you need to - we’ll need to swap details and it will be faster in person. Now - go!”

Emily Prentiss scans the room one last time and then sits with purpose pulling a pad of paper towards herself - her one concession to her own fatigue - and looks hard at her agents.

“Ok someone set a timer. Based on what we have profiled so far, we have 15 minutes to agree on how to best tempt our unsub into targeting Penelope as their next victim. We, ladies and gentlemen, are setting up a sting.”

✈✈✈

It’s Christmas Eve, 7 am, and the team stands in their usual semi-circle but the mood of the muttering cops is darker than even the BAU Agents are used to. Emily and the Chief of Police better arrive soon - this gang is antsy.

Lines are being drawn between those who think this case should be a priority and those who think it's a waste of police time. Both the pro and anti factions' beliefs seemed to have become more entrenched since the Chief of Police got off the phone and announced that the coroner suggests that, while not releasing any official cause of death yet, last night’s fatality is likely due to complications from a head injury incurred during a recent Ultimate Frisby match and not the result of poison. 

Luke resists glancing past Tara and Dave to check on Penelope for what feels like the 5 billionth time since they took their places.  

Instead, he glares down at the taupe industrial carpet and tries to discern what the muttering is actually about… but his brain won't cooperate. It just keeps gnawing on whether the red and white dress was the right choice after all…maybe he should have insisted she wear the black one…what if these fuc-…officers… don't take her safety seriously enough? What if because she looks too much like a candy cane… and those shoes? What if…instead of listening to the briefing… they all just stare at her amazing legs and chest and cherry red lips and fantasize about how she looks good enough to…

Luke mentally gives himself a kick in the groin and forces himself to relax his hands which have balled back into fists. 

FOCUS, ALVEZ.

The plan makes sense.  It’s a good tactical plan. He could…WOULD…protect her.  They all would.  But wouldn't it be better to have the local cops giving their all too? 

Damn.  They should have chosen the black dress…. 

No. The red and white one makes sense for the plan.  …the damn fucking deadass…

At dinner last night, Prentiss had asked Luke to tackle the job of adding to the profile in a way that will reach the cops like J.J.'s assigned partner - but when things shifted and it became clear that this would not only be the delivery of the profile but also an outline of the planned sting …the role had not exactly taken away from him. Matt and Rossi had made it clear that they had that side of it covered - so his job was now to introduce the details of the plan in a way that would win over even the most cowboy cop and introduce the key elements tactical language that will be understood and instinctively taken as orders by the majority of those in the room.  He had also tagged on an extra personal mission to the task he had been given - he had to win them over but do it all without revealing the true nature of his current relationship with Pe- the principle. 

It had taken a couple hours but they had finally settled on two possible approaches and he was ready to go with either depending on how the Chief of Police wanted to play it.  Emily was briefing him now.  He had to be ready to wing it.  He wished they would-

It’s not often wishes are granted in this job - but Luke’s is when his boss strides angrily into the room almost herded by the Chief of Police who is sauntering smugly behind.  Luke watches closely as Emily crosses to them.  Her manner is professional and serious… brusque… tense…almost defeated… but then in a moment when her back is to the crowd and her face is to the team just for a second she cracks - smiling at them - beaming - almost bouncing? Like she just got told that Santa is real and he's bringing her tequila and scantily clad lovers to find under herChristmas tree.  The look hits Luke hard - like a slap of sleet in the face. He is suddenly reeling in a new unexpected direction and he doesn't know what to make of it.  Should he dance or puke?

The Police Chief's demeanour is not opposite from their boss' slip but the look he is giving his officers is pure "I'm in charge and you better not give these people shit or I am going to be very disappointed - not because they don’t deserve it - but because it’s a privilege of my rank."

Apparently it’s a go.  

Puke.  Definitely puke. 

Curse it all to hell and back on a pink unicycle. 

Fuck.  Even her elaborate cursing has rubbed off on him! 

“Alright!  Listen up!”

The Chief of Police’s strong goading voice cuts off Luke’s thought and he pushes everything but the moment away.  Game time.  

“You may not know, but I - despite my open and cooperative nature - was less than pleased when the Commissioner decided to call in the FBI.”  The cops laugh. Their Chief amiably shushes them with his hand and carries on,  “but, despite my objections, I have been ordered to let Ms Prentiss here and her FBI Behavioral Specialists to present the findings of their profiling exercise to all of you. Now I am not sure if I believe any of it - I leave it to you to judge for yourselves - but the one bit of credit they deserve is that while they were rambling on during the preview for the brass…I came up with plan to catch this bastard - some real Texan style “don’t mess with us” policing which I know y’all will like. Now, I may not believe in all the wishy washy stuff - but I will say that they know a good idea when they hear it - and I hate to admit it - but they’ve even added one or two improvements - so stay quiet for their little presentation - then we can get to the action.”

Emily's face is somehow both hard and soft in its determination.  Her hair falls sharp against her cheek as she lets space come between the words just spoken and those she will say next…then…like a flip switches..with a swift jutt of her chin and a tightly bowed smile - she breaks the silence she created. Heads whip in her direction.

“Despite your Chief’s somewhat lacklustre introduction - you should listen to what we have to say. We’ve done this a lot. A lot a lot.  And I can tell you that the information we can share can save lives. Those of potential victims - yes.  But cops’ too. We don’t want anyone missing Christmas dinner because they didn’t listen today… and since your boss has a plan…” 

Luke purposely turns away from his boss and steps away from his spot with the team - clenching his fists and jaw and then a bit too purposely relaxing them. He is not quite standing with the cops now - but almost… Matt throws an angry look his way that is so brief it is likely missed by most, then jumps into the frey without missing a beat:

“Your boss plays by a different playbook than us - but the two outlooks can work very well together and the plan is a good one - but it will work better if you understand a few things about the target.”

Rossi jumps in now.

“Like many of you here, we believe the target is physically fit and has taken great interest in improving his physique over the years.  We believe he is likely caucasian - between 6’1 and 6’3; potentially with a slim but strong build. Although - physical characteristics may differ so don’t rule out stockier or more sickly individuals.”

The cop who had been J.J. 's interviewing partner calls out from the back of the room “Isn’t poison usually a woman’s or weakling’s weapon?  What makes you think that this person is male and fit?  I mean - if this is really murder and not some huge hoax or lab jumping to conclusions  - wouldn’t it make sense for a woman to be killing these people - like that nurse? An ‘angel of mercy’ type thing - putting people out of their misery?”

A ripple goes through the crowd.  It’s one thing for the Chief to be rude to the FBI - but an officer doing the same is not amusing anyone.  Firing up some? Yes. Raising the ire of others? Sure. But amusing? No one. 

Spencer fixes the cop with a stare he perfected in the prison laundry room. 

“There’s no hoax or lab error here, Officer.  There is someone out there who has tragically cut short the lives of - by all reports - and you were at the interviews, Officer - we have a lot of reports - cut the lives short of twelve very happy people who just also happened to be fat.  None of them needed to be ‘put out of their misery’.  There is someone out there who has killed twelve people - that is already two more than the BTK Killer and six more than the Son of Sam - and we are all here to work together to stop them. None of us are going to let this person get away with it.  We’re all better than that - all better than him.  But, you know what?? You’re right, statistically, women do choose poison as a weapon more frequently than males. According to the imperfect but apropos 2012 Federal Bureau of Investigation Supplemental Homicide Report, while guns are technically the weapon of choice for both genders in the US - even though quantitatively way more men murder using poison than women - one way of looking at the numbers lets us state that women are 7 times more likely to choose poison as a weapon than a male offender. However, Officer, there are several elements of these murders and the letter that was sent to the Coroner’s office that tip the scales towards not only a male - but one who will appear physically fit,” Spencer leans back - his face finally dropping the fury and animating as he settles into his explanation - the thrill of explaining the profile apparent even though his countenance is still as tough as nails, “In the letter, the unsub presents the murders as part of a mission fueled by-”

Penelope cuts him off: “Hatred. Hatred of Fat People. People like me.” 

Penelope’s voice rings across the room.  She is suddenly so much more than just herself - she is mother, sister, favourite aunt, beloved fat-friend, their grandmother, their third-grade teacher, the bullied fat kid from their gym class - she is the prompter of half hidden derisive smiles and a reflection of some people’s biggest fear - some of the cops start to phrase the denial “You’re not-”... 

The look Spencer gives Penelope is inscrutable as he picks back up the thread of his explanation. “Yes.  Although I was going to say ‘a mission fueled by a desire to serve society by ridding it of those he sees as harmful’ - which on its own is not enough to deduce gender but it is the way the mission is phrased “The health of our city deserves better.  We are at war and you are either on the side of science or against us.” 

Prentiss takes her turn now - her arch voice steeped with confidence in her team and her own professional expertise: “It may be stereotypical but evoking the language of conflict instead of care - the attempt to appear detached and scientific - the lack of reference to children and families - even the use of “nay nay” which alludes to the late great John Pinette’s standup all point towards a male voice; but it is a detail from the crimes themselves that point most directly to the gender of our unsub.” 

Tara takes the floor now - arm sweeping in an arc to a photo of one of the marks found on a victim’s belly - her expression wide and open: “Serial killers fall into several broad categories when it comes the motive - which differs from the organised vs disorganised types most of the public are familiar with.  At first, the note and the targeting of fat people seemed to suggest that our killer fell into what we would call a ‘mission oriented killer’ - someone motivated to kill by their beliefs and a desire to ‘purify’ the human race of those they see as harmful or lesser.”

J.J. chimes in “You have all heard of this type of person - people moved to violence by hate and fear.  White supremacists - anti-semites - rival gangs.  The public and the unsub are familiar with these types of criminals and while hatred is part of the reason why these killings are happening; we believe the ‘war on the obese’ alluded to in the letter is being evoked primarily as a cover to hide the true motivations of the unsub; likely even from himself-”

“And,” says Tara still pointing at the photo, “it is this mark - this hickey - that we know the unsub left on the bellies of at least three of the victims that suggests most strongly that not only is the unsub male, fairly tall, and fit - but that the motivation for these crimes is much more personal than a hatred fueled mission to rid the world of people because they are fat.”

1 - 2 - 3…Luke waits for the penny to drop and then speaks up…turning his back on his team…stepping further into the midst of the cops… positioning himself as one of them… they rarely rehearse the giving of the profile ahead of time - but last night Emily had drilled him and Penelope on this next crucial bit…

“Our target has not killed these mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers and husbands and wives and boyfriends and girlfriends because they were fat - no.  He is killing them because they are fat and happy and loved.  Many of the victims were not just in happy relationships - but in happy relationships with someone that society might say they didn’t deserve because they were fat and their partner was conventionally attractive. This has lead us to believe the unsub killed not because he hates fat people - but because he finds at least one fat person attractive but can’t be with them - maybe because he is afraid to admit it or because the person rejected him - but for whatever reason hates himself for wanting them - and hates every fat person who has what he wishes for.”

He looks across at his woman then. Even if they hadn’t been ordered to... Hadn’t rehearsed it… Luke doesn’t think he could not look at his Penelope in that moment; he struggles to keep his expression as neutral as possible - setting his jaw in a way that Emily had promised just hinted at a hidden longing - not his real feelings of loving this woman so much he can hardly stand being this far away from her. His heart asks to pound but he controls his breathing and genuine response as best he can; wildly hoping that the love he feels isn’t as nakedly apparent to the cops as he is sure it must be to his colleagues. 

Penelope is in her element and follows the script exactly.  Badly hiding a cheeky ‘you wish Newbie’ laugh and then turning to smile at everyone gathered wide and bright - her face radiating light and hope and her own secret sauce of knowing cheeky innocence - they are in the palm of her hand. 

“Sounds crazy doesn’t it? But as someone who is somewhat fat and has been labelled as very fat throughout my life - I can tell you that men see and treat fat women differently. There are men who are genuinely attracted to me - probably some of you here are - and some might not even feel shame for it… but that is not as common as you think.  I have been treated as though any attention shown to me was a favour - and…you know what men can be like when they think you owe them. But those men are players and reasonably easy to spot - and they are often not particularly worried about their genuine attraction or lack thereof - I’m a piece of ‘easy ass’ - nothing more - nothing less.”  

Just for a flash, Luke sees a ripple of memory wash across Penelope.  Is she thinking of how the man who shot her used her surprise at being found attractive by someone many would think was ‘out of her league’? He feels the familiar cocktail of relief that he is dead and the wish that he had been the one to pull the trigger. 

“Nothing worse than what most women deal with.  No, the worst are those that genuinely are attracted to me…may even date me happily for awhile…until..”, Penelope takes a sharp breath - sucking in oxygen like she’s drowning - but then comes back her voice hard and true - with the line they crafted and practised,   “Contempt.  Disgust. Shame. Ugly ugly feelings towards their own genuine attraction to my fat body… and you better believe that many of them found it more comfortable to blame me - punish me - than to confront their own reactions that they wouldn’t think twice about if only I was a size 2.  Cowards.”

Rossi speaks up then - his voice an echo of so many fathers telling their kids that the bully is far more afraid than they are - he directs his words directly to the cop who asked about poison being used by women. 

“The observation from earlier does apply - because while we believe that the unsub is of a certain height-”

Spencer pipes up -  “to be able to kneel before his victim and place his mouth to their belly and give them a so-called last ‘love-bite’-”

Rossi gives him an indulgent look but takes back the floor “-and is possibly physically pleasing…but don’t doubt for a moment that he isn’t a coward and a weakling… and between your Chief and our team… we have a plan to use his desire and his fear to trap him..and SSA - Ex-Army Ranger - Alvez is now going to tell you all about it.”

✈✈✈

So, while Luke outlines the plan which will see Penelope and himself reprise their act of being a happy couple visiting a boxing gym -across town, a man is filling syringes.

To be continued…

Master List | List of One Shots & Happy Versions  | Micro-Garvez

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[salty-dracon]

genshin impact 4.0, or as i like to call it, fantasy tears of themis ft. lifeweaver overwatch/kale vandelay hfr/mael stronghart tgaac/idk but people are drawing him with that specific kind of face and i love it

liveblog begins now

Get Out Of India And Get Your Ass To France!

People can find my previous liveblog and livetweets for what I think of the Sumeru section. I thought it was great, I loved the heist scene, but *grumbles in desi* you know how one of the most popular (and thirsted after) characters in the west right now is a DARK SKINNED INDIAN SPIDERMAN-

Paimon lore...she got tired, fell in a whirlpool, and got sucked out to sea...

sus.

... Niagara Falls...... somehow geographically across from a desert.... which also ends in a big cliff...

welcome to fontaine. literally just french for "fountain". Looks like any steampunk city but with more blue and stars. God I miss Arcane: A League of Legends story.

Neuvilette. That's the Mael Stronghart looking guy's name.

Lyney and Lynette. They're uh. little guys

we're just normal men.

CAITLYN KIRAMANN ARCANE?!

... Is this Fischl's VA? Has the same smug aura. Also, why are her eyes two different colors? Is she tainted by the Abyss or a Schneznayan puppet or something?

I'm not writing all that down Furina but I don't fuck with celebrities. I only fuck with gods.

She's so grand I hate it.

Tears of Themis 🤝 Genshin Impact Fontaine

I'm too poor and ugly for this shit

FIGHTING GODS?! BITCH I'VE GOT A RESUME

..... what the fuck is happening in this place. first god wants to beat me up, then god wants to battle me in court ace attorney - er, tears of themis style, while the rabble are saying that god-slayer traveler's DUEL would be boring while a COURT battle would be more exciting..... and now there are weird laws

that's not called being absolved of sin that's called climate change

why would you build boats that function like subway trains on giant aqueducts when you could just... make bridges with... okay I guess depending on how you do it, having aqueducts instead of roads could be pretty fast in a world without cars

How many little siblings does this guy HAVE

How many dragons is that now? There was Dvalin, Durin, Ahzdaha, the one Raiden killed, and now the Hydro one. Was there a Dendro one?

You'd think that a HYDRO city would have some kind of STEAM POWER

I love cute engineer girls! Damn, she's just an NPC.

... wh. YOU'RE A GOD OF WATER IN A STEAMPUNK CITY JUST USE HYDRO POWER TURBINES

nothing like getting the Italian mafia to beat up the French mafia

sorry to this guy who has now voiced characters in two games where his fantastic voice work is badly complimented by piss poor lip sync (swank from rain code)

Oh shit are we going to ace attorney childe? that would be really funny. he'd be such an ace attorney witness too

traveler: childe, why are you in fontaine?

childe: depression arc

So these little humanoid dog creatures are "Melusine".

Friends with benefits (the benefits are knowing all their siblings and also theater tickets)

There he is. Mr. Justice man.

Neuvilette: I think she wants you to look at her.

Paimon: Yeah, sure...

Furina: Hehehe~

Traveler: *holds up middle finger at Furina*

Oh he's literally Mael Stronghart

Lyney's VA is pulling out all the stops for this stage magician cutscene

A "bang" right in the middle of a magic show?? For sure we're going to be Ace Attorneying this chapter.

OH YEAH. OH YEAH THATS A CLEAR CASE OF SOMEONE USING STAGE MAGIC TO MURDER LIKE IN DRV3 OR AA6

Paimon puts on Groucho Goggles while quoting Sherlock Holmes. Fun...

Waiting for Rosa Tears of Themis to get isekaid to this universe with a random boy. Because I like Rosa and she's cute. And never alone.

So Lyney's rope was replaced with a flammable one. That explains the murder method, But how did Lyney switch places with Carrow, and where did Halsey disappear to?

Navia, a mob boss. Or a detective. Not sure which.

There's honestly no way they didn't take at least a LITTLE inspiration from Arcane because that's the only steampunk setting I can think of where little furry guys are common. Pookas are in Odin Sphere, but that story isn't exactly steampunk... Well, it is. And supposedly Neuvilette is the only male one.

That's how the trick itself was performed. The audience member basically got put on a giant rotating, moving elevator. So in the middle of it, someone must have hijacked the trick. They forced Halsey out and Cowell in, then escaped with Halsey.

... Lyney didn't hear the thud? How? Why?!

THEY'RE FATUI?!

It literally is the most Ace Attorney sort of thing to ask the judge for a brief recess and then talk with your client who immediately admits to being a Russian spy whose excuse for not being present during a murder scene was that he was doing spy things

yeah I was thinking, it had to be someone from the crew. how else do you tamper with the random number generator and the rope? but the real question is how did he become a victim of his own scene after the fact?

what

this is entirely out of left field. they should have gotten one of the tears of themis writers on this one.

girl your drink was spiked

yeah that was what I was thinking too. the disappeared people are being dissolved and ending up in the fountain somehow

oceanid!

aether: bye pretty oceanid! I'll find your lover for you- OH GOD THERE'S ROBOTS

... Did they honestly watch Arcane and get nothing from it? Looks like they tried to recreate Zaun and missed the fact that Zaun isn't run by women in big hats

girl...

I'm just bored throughout this entire investigation segment and then I learn that the Italian Mafia got arrested for water crimes

We're unwatering the water crimes

I was also wondering if vacher was the one who murdered the oceanid. yeah it was. and looks like we hunted down the mastermind of one piece of the murder plot

sometimes I fear that the gimmick for AA7's prosecutor will be a robot and this is why. at least we get to see the guy go ham again

Oh yeah that guy's girlfriend is in the place where all water flows to, Doyha District the fountain.

... Imagine you're a baliff, and you're at court, and the defendant wants to see his wife who has dissolved into a fountain, and the chief justice helps him, and so the chief justice takes him to the fountain, and then five minutes later the chief justice comes back and says he stuck his face in the fountain and drowned

[mylittlemenandme]

JARL READY FOR THIS?

Not a hugely productive hobby month - I flitted between building an Impulsor and a Storm Speeder and have not got very far with either. I've not got a lot of experience with building vehicle kits so taking my time with these. Not being quite sure how I'll paint them doesn't exactly speed things up either.

Getting itchy fingers I started on a third building project, although it was really more a proof of concept and to see if I had the bits I needed for it - Jarl of the Sons of Morkai, Erik Morkai himself.

I also got to play my second Crusade league game. So maybe it was productive after all...

There's not much to work with when it comes to Erik Morkai. Beyond having a twin brother, Irnist the Wise, there is a Black Library short story/audio drama featuring him - Deathwolf.

It's not exactly big on details either - beard plaits, and armed with a plasma pistol and a chain axe that he can split in two (which admittedly is a pretty good detail).

I had an idea in mind with how I wanted to go about building him. Since my army was Primaris, and his Great Company is scout-heavy, it made sense to put him in Phobos armour so I used a Reiver body as a base. To make him stand out a bit more I took the back of the Space Wolves Lieutenant torso with the wolf pelt, and carved up the Reiver torso until it fitted, and made similar adjustments to the legs so they could fit in underneath. The other major addition was the double-headed wolf symbol for his chest - a bit from the Venerable Dreadnought kit I think, carved away at the back to fit the curve of the armour as best I could (obscured here, of course)

One suitable Thunderwolf Cavalry head (grim demeanour, beard plaits) and some axes as a visual aid later, and he's pretty much there. Like I said, a proof of concept. I'm hoping a Horus Heresy combat weapon upgrade kit comes out with some tasty chain axes in, but until then he's on hold. The grav chute vanes are purely ornamental since there isn't a suitable generic unit option to run him with (yet) - I'll be using Ragnar Blackmane's rules until then (high number of decent chain weapon attacks seems right).

Onto the Crusade league and another tough match-up, Salamanders this time. I had some plans on how to cope with the big block of flame Aggressors I was facing, I just needed to put them into practice. My Eliminators could potentially pop one with each successful Las-fusil shot, and if I whittled them down enough Herja could chop up the rest.

My first mistake was not screening my Eliminators from their Infiltrators, tying them up in combat. When the Aggressors reached the middle of the board, I then decided to push all my chips in and assault - if I left it another turn, my army would probably disappear in a flamestorm.

Herja amazingly weathered the return punches, but fell to the flames. I just needed to have killed one more Aggressor. The rest of army put up a decent fight, and hardly anything was left on the board when my last warrior fell. A really enjoyable game against a good opponent with a lovely looking army.

The next round of games is at 50PL, so my roster has been reinforced. Time for the big guns!

Looks like Adepta Sororitas and Necrons next, an interesting test!

#hobby2022 #warhammer40k #space wolves

[bitchforbarzy]

i think the league should all pitch in like 10 pennies to pay the rangers fine

#em rambles #i love the idea of paying in pennies #but also how big of a middle finger would it be if the league all helped pay to show they agree with the rangers statement #this won't happen but it would be fun

[bjurnberg]

Red Hood hacks the Justice League Watchtower during a meeting to yell at Bruce. Jason is absolutely wasted. Piss drunk. Hammered.

The League watch in fascinated horror as this new villain reams Batman. Bringing up traumatic memories.

“YOU!!!” Red Hood growls with his helmeted face entirely too close to the camera. “You just can’t help but disappear when you’re needed can ya? Puff of smoke, you are. People think it’s yer ninja trainin’ but I know better. They say yer a ghost but you ain’t the one who died.”

Batman tries to get Red Hood to shut up but it doesn’t work.

“A whole fuckin’ warehouse just falls on a 15 year old and all he does is cry for Dad! Oh no please save me Dad! But you never showed up! Too far away and couldn’t get there in time and now another Robin is poof! Out of your life forever. Can’t seem to keep ‘em can ya? Costume has never made it past a Teen Size Medium - not that any self respecting adult would wear such a thing.”

The other heroes can’t believe some local mob boss knows this much about Batman. And is brave and stupid enough to do this. They all loved and miss the second Robin; everyone in the room is still grieving. The new kid is great, of course, and it was a miracle he could break Batman out of that destructive spiral, but this is uncalled for.

“You don’t deserve a Robin if you’re just gonna let him die. Which is why he’s mine now. You can’t have him back.”

The Watchtower room went silent.

Then became an uproar.

“You have Robin??!!”

“What have you done to him?!”

“I’ll be there in two seconds and if he’s hurt -”

“How in the hell -”

Red Hood leans back from the screen and in the sudden view of the room behind him Robin is visible ...hooked up to several machines pumping air and medicines into his body.

“No,” Batman whispers in horror. “What happened?”

“Haven’t you been listening Old Man?! A FUCKIN’ WAREHOUSE FELL ON HIM. JUST LIKE ME!! And I swore to you! I swore! No more dead Robins! And he died!! On your watch! I broke a few ribs doin’ CPR on that child which means he’s mine now.”

Red Hood nods solemnly, as if this is logic.

“An’ don’t go tryin’ to find a NEW new replacement for me or I’ll just take that kid too. Can’t be any more dead Robins if there aren’t any more Robins.”

Every mouth was on the floor at that revelation. Red Hood was the second Robin. He’d been dead for years, how was he alive now?

Batman stood and hissed, “You can’t keep him.”

Red Hood laughed. It came out garbled through his helmet, making him sound more deranged. He leaned farther back in his chair and put a middle finger front and center on screen.

“Fuck you, Dad, I do what I want.”

Then he flipped that finger upside down to turn off the video call.

Batman tries to race out of the room but is mobbed by everyone else wanting answers.

It takes four months before Batman tracks down Jason. By then Tim is mostly healed from his many injuries and Jason has convinced him vigilante work isn’t for children.

(Tim has also been able to convince Jason to stop killing (most) people, and is happy staying with his big brother. Bruce gets visitation hours.)

#I wrote this instead of sleeping #I have work in four hours #Batman #robin #batman and Robin #Red Hood #Bruce wayne #Jason todd #Tim drake #dead Robins club #gets a new member #batman fic #my fic #justice league #bjurnberg

[sukirichi]

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz 

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist ! 

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

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