#but now that I've got it I see no reason not to abuse it as often as possible.
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Little Girl Gone- Emily X GN!Reader/BAU X GN!Reader.
Synopsis: Being back in your old town, it’s no surprise you’d have to see a person you never wanted to see again, the only difference is this time is that you can handle yourself.
Warnings: Insinuations of past abuse but no details given, misuse of reader's pronouns by abuser not the team, talks of not handling past trauma but Emily is there for us, we’re really just a badass.
Word Count: 1.6k
A/n: THIS MAY HAVE A TRIGGER FOR ANYONE WITH PAST TRAUMA AND I DIDNT INCLUDE ANY DETAILS FOR THAT REASON, IF THAT MAY BE TOO MUCH FOR YOU PLEASE SKIP THIS ONESHOT. Other than that, yes this is based off a song leave me alone 🥰 You guys have no idea how long I’ve wanted to get something out for you guys, hopefully more will come soon!
☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎
You had heard he's back in town, and clearly, he hasn't changed a bit.
He was sitting there, appearing clueless, with you staring at him behind the glass. Your anger was boiling to the surface, and while it was clear to the team you were upset, they had no idea.
Your attention snapped back when a mention of your name was heard, the reason was beyond you, "That's what this is about? That bitch Y/n?" He chuckled and it made you sick. "Please, that little girl has nothing on me."
Hearing the way he said your name brought back some unfriendly memories you tried so hard to forget.
But when he muttered your name again, seeing how much it pissed Derek off, you knew you needed to do something. You have heard enough, it's not about you. It's about the 3 murdered girls.
You opened the door of the observation room to see Hotch standing there, "I'm going in there."
"That's not a good idea, you know that. He's trying to get under your skin."
"Hotch, with all due respect, I wasn't asking. Besides, I'm not the small child he last saw me as. I'm going in the there."
Hotch just quietly stood back, maybe a familiar face would get him to give them something they could use.
You walked into a familiar scene, Derek towering over the unsub shouting at the top of his voice, and the unsub pretending it's doing nothing to them.
"YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS-"
"Derek!"
With your interruption, both men stopped and looked towards you. Derek knew it was up to you, but he didn't like that idea.
And him. Oh, him.
He looked like he thought he'd finally got something he wanted if only he knew. Well, he would soon enough.
"Derek, I've got this. Go take a breather, I think Garcia has something she wanted to go over with you."
"I'm not leaving you in here with him." He stood tall in protest.
The man stood, suddenly filled with some form of faux confidence, "Yeah, little girl, you don't wanna be left here with me, unless you do?" His sadistic simper took over his face, his arm reaching out to touch you.
You grabbed his wrist and instantly snapped it back, flipping his arm behind him and then slamming him into the metal interrogation table.
"Oh, you wanna fight me now?" You pulled his arm further. "That little girl is gone. So tell me, are you big enough?"
"Fucking bitch!" His pain filled his voice and you tried to hide the joy it brought you.
"Do you feel that? Me twisting your arm until it breaks? Do you see how much stronger I've gotten?" He was struggling under you, and you were handling him with ease.
Derek was proud watching you, knowing the things that happened to you.
But the rest of the team was behind the glass watching carefully, they knew about him but not the things he'd done. But they did know your strength.
But now, he was groaning and mumbling something.
"Say that again, I didn't quite hear ya! You messed with the wrong 'bitch' in the wrong era!" You pulled him up off the table and shoved his face into the wall in a quick move, moving closer to him, "Honey, I changed so much since I last saw ya."
"I'm gonna say it, I'm proud of them." Rossi wasn't hiding his proud smile either as he watched you move him around like a rag doll.
You once again pulled him from the wall and slammed him back into the table.
"You know, maybe I will leave. I think I'd grab a cup of coffee, want some L/n?" Derek asked, knowing you definitely could handle yourself.
"I'm good, I'm awake now."
"NO NO NO! She'll kill me! You can't leave me alone with her!" He pleaded, as much as he could with his face smashed into metal.
"You know, I don't really think that's a bad thing. Do you, L/n?"
"Not at all."
He tried moving from your grasp, "No!"
"Then tell me where the girl is!" Derek slammed his hands on the table in his face, though he was still firmly pinned to the table all thanks to you, you could still feel the way he flinched.
Within the moments you walked into that room, the man finally showed how scared he actually was, realizing that now he truly is nothing.
"BOAT!"
You pull him off the table, holding him to face Derek and the team behind the mirror.
"What was that?" You asked, hearing what he said but needing more details.
"The girl. She's on a boat. Down at the marina, slip 7."
"Ah, so you do know what's good for you." Derek said as he left the room.
"No! Wait!"
A smirk came to your face, and you knew that if you weren't an active agent you'd definitely get your revenge.
In a swift move, you had him pinned to the wall by his throat.
You took a split second to look at the man that robbed you of so much.
My god did he look like shit.
Years didn't do him good, and the illegal things he tried to hide likely didn't help.
"You. You got lucky. I've got too damn much to lose if I go after you now," You were practically seething. "But know this, you are nothing. You are shit. I took all of what happened to me, and I made something of myself. I did. Me. So don't you think for one second that you ever had an effect on me." He definitely had an effect on you, years worth of effects. But he wasn't going to know that. He didn't need that.
He may have ruined the child you were, but he doesn't get to even be near the person you grew into.
You simply released him, part of the child that's still inside you wanted to do more but the other part of that child was so proud of how far you came.
You left him for the uniformed officer to take, walking out of the interrogation room to get some air or a drink, only there was something in your path.
Or rather, some people.
Half the team to be precise. David, Emily, and Reid were still in the precinct. And they just witnessed basically everything.
"I'm proud of you kiddo," Rossi spoke first, and only then did you release the breath you were holding.
"Thanks."
"I think this calls for a celebration, tonight. Your pick." He spoke with a head nod and walked out.
Reid just did his smile thing, and you knew you'd both likely have a conversation later.
But Emily, she stayed put, letting you go to her.
"You know you can let it out now, only if you want of course." She said finally as you walked up to her.
A shaky breath left you and you attempted to hide it with a faux chuckle.
She did know you the best.
"Come on, out with it. You know you can talk to me." Her damn eyebrow raise had you wanted to spill everything like always.
"I was so scared, Em." Another unstable breath came from your lips.
Emily reached up to wipe a tear you hadn't felt escape.
"God, I'd be worried if you weren't. You're only human." Her hand went to cup your cheeks, and for a second you simply looked into her eyes.
You didn't really know what to say, so you said nothing. You feared the only thing that would come out would be a sob.
"You handled that so well, and I speak for the team when I say I'm proud of you. It was hot the way you handled him." A small chuckle left you, she always knew how to get you to laugh.
"It just, brought back so many things I've tried for so long to forget." You looked to the floor with shame, ashamed it still got to you.
"Hey, look at me," She pointed your chin so you'd look at her. "Don't think that there's ever a right time to just 'get over it' because there's not. Everyone has their own timeline, and their own way of coping, that makes us human. And the fact that you didn't give in to the revenge you know you were thinking of, just shows how much you've grown."
She was right. Of course she was, when wasn't she? She knew the ins and outs of you. Every curve and every line. She knew your soul better than your body did.
"Come on, the team will finish the paperwork and we can go back to the hotel, you can shower and we'll meet them after for drinks." Your head rested against her shoulder as she put her arm around you while you both walked out of the precinct.
While you both arrived at your hotel room, the team safely got the girl from the boat, though she was a bit shaken up, she was unharmed. Physically, at least.
While the shower helped relax your tense body, it didn't help much with the resurfacing memories. You were simply disassociating at a cracked shower tile until Emily took it upon herself to be your distraction in the shower.
And of course, it certainly helped.
And later on, the team did their best to talk about pretty much anything but the case. Not like you were really upset about that honestly.
Having the people who you cared about around you, that's what helped the most. Having your love by your side and having your family around you.
🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮
Taglist: @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @pebbleswritessometimes @bigolgay @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs @hxzxrdous @sgelessoanddoveykissing
I feel like I’m forgetting a few people on my tag list so comment if you want to be a part of my updated tag list!
#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x y/n#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss#bau team#criminal minds#badass reader#fanfic#oneshot#sapphic#fluff#bau x reader
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A bit of an angst headcanon
So, the Talyllyn railway canonically exists in the ttte universe, because Awdry wanted to promote the railway using the fictional Skarloey engines. You know what this means?
As the Thomas Theorist said, it's REALLY coincidental how the Skarloey and Talyllyn railways have the nearly EXACT same history with the same exact railway (only difference being that the SKR is bigger) with the exact same events.
I've made up this headcanon that the Talyllyn engines all became secretly jealous and envious of the Skarloey engines for them getting their own books based on the events they went through, which were literally what happened to them as well, but this isn't the only reason; the Talyllyn engines all collectively agreed with each other that it just sometimes feels like most people and fans only ever come to see them mainly because they look identical to their twins. They're actually pretty sick of hearing their own siblings' names. ESPECIALLY during those Awdry Extravaganza, just imagine always having to dress up as your twin because they're part of the reason your railway is still in operation.
Another reason is that the Talyllyn fleet all rarely get to do goods work anymore, and the SKR is busy all the time. Talyllyn and Dolgoch specifically, both miss the heavy workloads they got back in the old days. Now all they do is pull passengers, which they're just really bored of doing at this point. I heavily implied it in my Conductor's Popper post, but Talyllyn and Dolgoch were abused in the early years, which led to them becoming envious at how much better their twin brothers' early years were.
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Fuck it, kicking #Awooootober off a day early with the prompt: Warped, feat the best random hallucination on Star Trek: Lower Decks.
#werewolf#star trek: lower decks#ST:LD#lower decks#Jennifer Sh'reyan#wlw#f/f#werewolves#SPACE WEREWOLF#This Joke Was Made For Me#thatartmagic#thatfanartmagic#Making fake comic book covers isn't the power I thought I wanted#but now that I've got it I see no reason not to abuse it as often as possible.
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A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.
(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)
it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it
...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..
Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.
I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.
(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")
“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.
“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”
The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.
I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?
I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.
Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.
Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.
So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.
Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!
Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol
What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.
I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.
Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.
Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.
How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’
i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.
I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.
I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”
….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.
No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.
If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.
His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.
We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.
Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.
You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.
The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.
And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.
You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.
Give a heads up.
Something.
But don’t. kill. the media.
The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.
Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.
I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.
It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.
Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.
If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.
And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.
Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.
the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.
The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.
Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.
Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.
If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.
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Muting notifs
#artists on tumblr#Artistic#digital art#art history#anthropology#humanity#art discussion#art theory#skit yells
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[Image ID (sorta, basically just the text from it):
GET KOSA TRENDING.
STOP SCROLLING NOW!
AS OF FEBRUARY 21ST, 2024, WE GOT FIVE DAYS UNTIL THE DAY OF DECISION OF THE KOSA BILL, WHICH WILL CAUSE MASS CENSORSHIP ROUND THE INTERNET IF PASSED. OR DOOMSDAY. WE NEED EVERYONE TO KNOW ABOUT THIS AND CONTRIBUTE. I'M NOT GIVING UP ON YOU ALL.
WE'RE DOWN TO THE WIRE BUT WE CAN'T GIVE UP YET. IF WE GIVE UP, EVERYTHING IS OVER. IF WE DON'T, AT LEAST WE HAVE A CHANCE.
I'M THE ONE WHO SOUNDED THE ALARM, AND I'M NOT GOING TO CURL UP AND DIE YET.
Reblog this post in every LEGAL way you can under the Tumblr guidelines with the appropriate tags. TELL AND TAG EVERYONE YOU KNOW, then add the tags to see below... and more if you can think of any complying.
Visit badinternetbills.com if you want to find a way to defeat KOSA. It WILL NOT take much of your time. Reblog with any other information or sources, too-- but make sure to reblog if you can.
Reblog if you support lgbtq+ content.
Reblog if you support questioning queer youth and/or abused youth getting the information they need.
Reblog if you support Ao3 and/or other sites that wholeheartedly preserve talentedly made media.
Reblog if you're going to repost this on other sites than Tumblr and spread the word across Twitter, Tik Tok, Pinterest, or elsewhere, alongside the link to badinternetbills.com.
END image ID]
Hey, everyone. So yeah, this is happening. We're still fighting this battle. And we can't give up now. We can't. We can't stand idly by while one of the most important resources that helped us all wake up, or at least start to question things, is being threatened by the government.
We can't stand idly by when kids, teens, and adults just like us still trapped inside might lose access to the resource that could help them wake up. We can't stand idly by when they might lose access to their non JW friends and family. We CAN'T stand idly by when we can do something to stop this bill from passing.
I am sick and tired of this same old song, where conservative fuckers higher up think they can oppress everyone. I am FUCKING SICK of it.
Please, reblog both this post and the original post linked above what I've written, and do what you can to stop KOSA, please. We are running out of time.
I suggest that if it is within your power to do so, that you do more than simply reblog and assume someone else will do something. DON'T assume that. Please do more than just reblogging if you are able to, because that's not really enough at this point.
Call/email representatives in the House and tell them to oppose KOSA (you may want to list different reasons depending on who you're calling, some House representatives are anti-LGBTQ+, so it may be best to tell them to oppose because it violates people's privacy, safety, and anonymity online). Print posters and put them up where legal if you can.
Sharing all this information to other social media sites (Instagram, Reddit, TikTok, the bird app) to reach more people can really help too. The wider the reach, the better.
Thank you. Now let's fucking rip that bill apart like we rip apart Watchtower magazines and eat it for fucking breakfast.
(In a "we're eating it and the politicians who are sponsoring it are looking on in horror" kind of way)
#kids online safety act#internet censorship#stop kosa#exjw#ex jw#ex jehovah's witness#ex jehovah's witnesses#not necessarily ex jw related tags but still relevant bc this bill also affects these communities:#queer#lgbtqia#lgbt#lgbtqplus#lgbtq community#ex catholic#ex mormon#ex christian#ex evangelical#ex cult
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I (26, NB) dropped a long-term friend (23, not disclosing gender, I'll call them X) for being a proshipper, and now they're trying to get in the way of my other friendships.
A little more than a month ago, an old friend from when I was an itty bitty teen on the internet (we met when they were 12 and I was 15 or so) messaged me on twitter asking if we could share discord since they're more active on that platform, and they missed hanging out. Ok, no prob!! I missed talking to X and life was going kinda icky for me at the time. We exchanged discords and started talking more frequently, before we would talk through twitter dms maybe one day every few months, and we went from almost no contact to talking every single day. It was like being a teenager again; we still shared similar interests and we really fast clicked over old and new fandoms we were in. We talked about college and how they're starting to get the hang of their new job but needed support, talked about our family lives, etc., and in general I felt really comfortable and happy to be chatting again with someone I've known for so long. We were inseparable for weeks.
However... of course, as adults, and having known each other for YEARS, we started talking about fandom ships and fics we enjoyed. We didn't have the same taste in pairings, but that was okay. Until it wasn't anymore.
I shared my NSFW twitter with them, and they followed me. A few minutes later X told me, "I see you have "proship DNI in your bio, I just want to let you know that I am a pro-ship and enjoy some things in fandom that you might think is gross. I hope that's okay."
I was kind of weirded out, and told them that as long as they didn't like anything that would be criminal in real life, that's fine. They told me they *did* enjoy things in fiction that they "wouldn't condone in reality" and even though they "don't talk about it publicly" they still wanted me to know. For some reason. ?? Even though they KNOW that I have an irl history of abuse as a kid, they still told me this.
I was so fucking uncomfortable and really, really sad, and honestly I felt betrayed? I stepped away from my account for like, an hour before messaging them back and saying I didn't want to continue talking to them anymore. That I didn't know they were that kind of person and I'm not comfortable being their friend. I didn't read their response to me because I soft-blocked them.
While I was getting over that and trying to move on, a few days later I was talking to another mutual friend of ours when they asked if I was still friends with X. I got chills remembering how I broke off with them, and said no, we weren't talking anymore. That they were the kind of person that made me really uneasy and uncomfortable to be around. The mutual friend, I'll call R, said that X was "feeling kind of down about losing a friend recently" and talked about it in a discord server they share. X didn't mention my name but R wondered if it was me who dropped them since I was really touchy about boundaries online. I freaked out a little thinking about them talking about me, and asked what else they said, and R told me "not much, just that they felt sad but it was your choice in the end because you two were different" and I don't know why but it left a bad taste in my mouth. Were they trying to make people seem like I was the bad guy or something?? Idk.
I told R the reason why I stopped talking to X, and that X is a proshipper who likes things like inc*st and rape, and R wasn't as supportive as I thought he would be, saying that he understood how I felt but if X was being honest and open about their interests, it probably meant they trusted me and didn't want to "lie" to me. I don't understand how that's even relevant if X is a fucking proshipper. I don't want their trust in the first place if that's who they really are, and I felt betrayed that someone I knew for so long was hiding that for me until we were bonding again. R basically dropped it there and said "idk then" and I told him I was going to shut off my notifs for a bit. I really don't want to talk with him again right now especially since he didn't seem THAT bothered by X being a proshipper who's into really criminal shit.
Since then, friends of mine who are also friends with R (because he's a friend of X still, for some reason), haven't been replying to me as much anymore and I'm super sensitive to noticing these things, at first I told myself it was nothing, but there's an obvious decrease in our interactions. I can't help but think that X actually said bad stuff about me, and R didn't want me to know, or maybe X convinced R that I was a terrible person or something. I still haven't read X's reply to me because I genuinely do not want to interact with them ever again, but for the past few days I've been so angry and hurt by my other friend's actions that I can't help but want to blame them, since this all started when I left them.
AITA for dropping a friend because their interests made me SEVERELY uncomfortable? I don't know what to do.
What are these acronyms?
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Child Support Part 2
Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.
Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.
They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?
Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.
Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)
It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.
"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.
Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.
"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.
Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."
"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."
"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.
Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."
Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.
But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.
If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.
Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.
"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."
The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"
Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."
A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."
Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."
Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?
"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.
Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.
He can't wait to tease Damian later.
"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.
"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.
"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.
"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.
Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.
"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"
Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"
"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.
He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.
"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."
"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"
"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.
"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug
"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."
"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.
Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."
Then the man vanishes in a green portal.
There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."
Tim wants to take a nap.
( Part 1 )
#dcxdp crossover#dc x dp crossover#Child Support#Part 2#John is trying his best#He's fighting off suitors from his son#Despite being very pretty Danny has a hard time making friends#He's the oldest in Damian's new team#I found the ship Damian/Colin the other day and I love it
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Honestly I think my take on the "Chat Noir was not there in the final battle" comes down to the fact that I kind of just don't think a satisfying final battle between Chat Noir and Monarch was actually possible.
I read a lot of fic, for example, and I've read the scenario play out a lot of times in a ton of ways and I've never been fully convinced of it tbh (and not because they weren't great fic!!). It seems just completely traumatic for Adrien in a way that the scenario inherently cannot properly focus on, because it's all happening in the middle of an action scene and Adrien is too busy being Mid-Battle to properly have a cathartic breakdown about it all. I mean, Chat Blanc already showed us what would happen if he did have a breakdown mid-battle (and why wouldn't he?). And though it'd be fun to have a big triumphant moment of him defeating his abusive father, Adrien simply isn't a character who would find that scenario triumphant, or cathartic, or anything other than viscerally traumatic.
Also, I agree that it's unfair that Chat Noir was not present— like it was unfairly tilted in Ladybug's favor— but I don't think it'd be fair if he was present, either. Because Marinette is, in fact, the main character. The main character whose character arc is primarily focused on her finding her footing as a hero and discovering all the responsibilities that come with that power (as opposed to Adrien, whose character arc is moreso about freedom and identity). And let's face it, in a fight between Ladybug and Chat Noir and Monarch, nobody would be focused on Ladybug at all. It's not about her. It's not her fight. She'd just be there as moral support and an extra set of hands, which really doesn't work for her character arc at all and is completely unfair to her!
Basically, it would just be Chat Noir temporarily acting as the main character and having the worst time of his life in the most un-cathartic battle for him possible left completely traumatized with Ladybug in the background awkwardly trying to comfort him after the fact? And then the season ends? And then the next season presumably goes back to Ladybug being the main character? After a time-skip to the new school year? It's just an ending that I feel like is a lot better in theory than actually on paper. And you can probably make an argument for ways that it could be made to work, where it would enhance Ladybug's story in a meaningful way where she still feels like the main character, and would somehow be triumphant for Chat Noir despite it probably being the worst moment of his life, and somehow not make the rest of the series following feel like bonus content as opposed to a continuation of the story...... but, I dunno. I think it's a lot easier said than done.
The fact of the matter is, I've always been waaayyyy more interested in how the aftermath of Gabriel's defeat affects Adrien than the battle itself. Post-Hawkmoth defeat is one of my favorite types of fic for a reason, and it's because the aftermath can be so juicy, especially for Adrien as a character. I think whether or not Adrien is actually there in the battle itself has always been kind of irrelevant to me, because no matter how Gabriel is defeated, his defeat will have immense repercussions on Adrien's life going forward. And the way they did it, Marinette is now a part of it in a more active way, too. Which is good for her character!
( Also, if he was there to triumphantly defeat Gabriel, would that mean he would just.... watch his father die? of cataclysm? a-and.... nathalie would just.... die, too? so he'd have three dead parents after all that? who he watched all die (or, in emilie's case, saw her corpse)? or is this a scenario where MONARCH BEATS CHAT NOIR and still makes the wish? is that cathartic? for Adrien to lose to Gabriel? Frankly, I loved seeing Gimmi and The Wish, it's been teased for so long that I was expecting it, and I loved the fact that Nathalie got to live as her narrative reward for coming to her senses and trying to murder Gabriel with a crossbow. I like that we got to watch a full season of Gabriel painfully dying to a cataclysm— poetically inflicted on him by Adrien, but of Gabriel's own doing. I like that Nathalie has presumably adopted Adrien after having an arc of her trying to be a parent to him once she realized nobody else would, that's so much more interesting than any other alternative. I just don't see how all of these things, some of my favorite things that season 5 gave, can still all exist at once with Chat Noir present in the final battle in any way that's satisfying. )
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Okay so here's what's going on with the bird crimes.
On thursday I was going to Powers Park when I saw what I thought were 2 chickens hanging out in the parking lot, and a lady watching them from the fence. I thought... they could belong to the lady, but chickens aren't the kind of pet that you just let hang out loose.
I approach.
Lady: "These aren't mine."
I look closer. Its actually 2 roosters, one of which is a very small breed and is missing his tail feathers. Both of them have an injury to their backside- like its been plucked.
So we talk about what to do, I end up calling Animal Control. The actual Animal Control officer doesn't get there until noon, I get a police dispatcher. She says she can send one of the cops to grab them until the actual professional gets there.
I tell her that the roosters are being kept by the woman I met, she's coaxing them into her house.
I post about it on the facebook group in case someone knows who they belong to. The comments are full of jokes, obviously. But no leads. Eventually the big rooster gets caught by someone running a sanctuary for abandoned and abused livestock, but they're still looking for the little black one. Evidently they got out of the lady's backyard and were loose again.
I figure he's going to be a coyote snack and don't think about it for the rest of the week.
So now it is Sunday and I'm opening up the bathrooms. I'm at Summit Grove park and as I'm about to reserve the shelter for a birthday party I see...
A black pigeon.
Pigeons are not a common animal in this area- you're more likely to see house sparrows, crows, and mourning doves. So that's odd. What's more, she doesn't seem to be skittish and is definitely accustomed to humans. And she keeps trying to bite my fingers, so she associates hands with food and she's skinny as a rail so she's been abandoned for a minute.
Why does this keep happening to me? Is this the Morrigan come to teach me a lesson in pigeon form?
So I remember the number of the woman running the sanctuary and I give her a call. I tell her I've got a pigeon here that can't fly, is super hungry, and doesn't seem to have any issues biting fingers. She says she can't take her, but she can find a home for her because pigeons have specific needs. But she won't be able to get there until 12:30. We (my work partner and I) have to deal with the bird in the meantime.
We absolutely cannot take this bird with us on our route because we are in a tiny truck cab and don't have a cat carrier to put her in. So our solution is to lock her in the janitor's closet until the rep can get here.
Around 12:15, we head back to the shelter to make sure she's still there and hasn't been disturbed... and I realize that the reason I even saw her in the first place...
...was because there was supposed to be a birthday party at the shelter at noon.
The party is strongly underway and they have shoved a table against the door of the closet.
The sanctuary lady comes by and waves, we ask the party people politely to move the table slightly because we're trying to rehome a pigeon that's inside that closet.
They move the table, but not all guests see this interaction- because it looks like a bunch of maintenance people are just here to boss folks around during a little girl's birthday party and this draws a crowd.
The sanctuary rep arrives and we open the door just a little bit to let the bird out. She bobbles towards us, hoping for food, when one of the older ladies at the party exclaims:
"Does that ANIMAL just LIVE in there?!"
I mean... sure. For the past few hours, she did live in there.
"Do you have any IDEA how many DISEASES pigeons carry?"
The rep scoops the pigeon into her arms and takes her out of the shelter area to inspect her wings, feet, and back. She shows us her breastbone and explains that its been several days since the bird ate anything, which was why it was going for fingers.
Meanwhile, Aunt Ornithophobia over here: "I can't BELIEVE you would just TOUCH a BIRD like that in front of CHILDREN!"
We take the bird away to the van so the rep can thank us and explain what likely happened- which is that someone abandoned the bird when they couldn't take care of her anymore they just let her loose.
"I understand you got one of the roosters," I said.
"Yes, the big one. But the little bantam rooster is very fast- he darted into someone's backyard and I never found him again. If you see him, give me a call."
"I've been told that chickens are legal to own here, but roosters are not."
She gets an exasperated look on her face. "If you're going to allow backyard chickens, you're going to have to allow roosters. It's impossible to sex an avian chick and they don't get their dimorphic traits until they've reached the young adult stage and chick sellers don't care about whether they're a hen or a rooster. They care about the sale. We get roosters more often than egg-layers because someone sold them a male as a female and they don't want to pay the fine. I'd rather have the laws allow both, or neither. But disallowing roosters is patently stupid."
"Hm. Well. Note to self."
"Anyways, you're heroes to this little rock dove and I want you two to know that. She's going on a trip to a bird sanctuary in Toledo where she'll have lots and lots of snacks to eat that aren't fingers."
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I've Found Home
Fem!Yuu and Twisted Cast
(Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)
Implied relationship
She moved on. She had to and had every reason to. She had someone who relied on her.
Warnings:hurt-comfort, Angst to heal your soul. Healing those and abandonment issues. Happy ending I promise. Don't read if you are not ready to cry. Did not proof read, wrote this late a night, sick and half asleep. Sorry.
Move on.
Forget.
There was no going back.
You chose this.
You wanted this.
After three years of living in another world Yuu couldn't adjust easily to her old life.
A life that no longer exists. So she began building a new one.
She found a good price on a place near the mountains. Private but not isolated. She had the money after her book deal.
People would never believe her story so she wrote fantasy novels. She felt closer to her friends this way but more lonely all the same. She couldn't share the truth with anyone and could never talk about them as though they were real.
Still, she could write new stories with new characters to forget.
Life had been quiet. Eat, sleep, write, watch TV, read and do it all again. Sometimes getting food deliveries, read fan mail and get a call to two. It was decent life. Something Idia would love.
He's probably taken over STYX by now. I bet he and Ortho are doing great together.
Nevermind, she could probably cook something. Eating instant meals was probably ruining her health. Vil would kill her if he knew.
...
Food can wait. She wasn't that hungry anyways.
The garden! Yes! She had to tend the garden! She had ordered a spring bundle to plant.
The tag said it had some tulips, mums, begonias, and specialty white roses.
Nevermind... forget it. She should take a nap. A lazy day never hurt anyone. Even beasts can afford to sleep.
...
...
...
Yuu decided to leave. She couldn't take this anymore. If she got one more reminder she'd collapse. Their faces were ingrained in her mind and guilt burned under her skin.
Life was funny you know. You don't know what come next.
Yuu certainly didn't.
She hiked up the mountain trying to forget every time Jade would drag her to go foraging with him. Every late-night walk she had with Malleus. Every magic carpet ride with Kalim.
It wasn't fair! Why did she have to go through this? She wanted to see them again. What did she do to deserve this?
She was good! She was kind! She just wanted to go home! Is that so wrong? She worked hard! She made a name for herself! She should have the life she wanted and be able to enjoy that life.
But she missed them...
Unknowingly Yuu had dropped to her knees and crying. Only the forest could hear her and perhaps it took pity on her.
(Warning: If you are sensitive to child abuse or dead animals please don't read on.)
When her tears were gone and her cries faded there was a response.
A different cry. High pitched and gurgling. The kind that every woman knew in an odd instinctual way. The kind that sets off every alarm in your head and makes every hair stand on end. A baby.
She ran towards it praying to God that this wasn't a mountain lion. It wasn't though.
She found a small shack off the path. It was surrounded by trash. Must have been occupied by squatters. Said squatters seemed to have vacated at least a few days ago.
Yuu muscled open the makeshift door. The crying had turned into unfamiliar cracking breathless howls. Their voice must have given out a while ago after who knows how long. Hours, days...any longer would mean death.
Yuu searched and found a bunker of sorts under the floorboards.
She found a soggy bare mattress, a few scattered crayons, a ball and-oh God, that smell. It was a rotting cat. Poor thing must have been here for weeks. There was an empty cat food bowl nearby. Little drawings littered the floor. Ones of a smiling child with a smiling cat.
The whimpering cries continued and drew Yuu forward. She found them curled up in a corner. A rope was tied around their leg. It was a child. They were wrapped in soiled clothes, had matted hair, and emaciated.
Yuu felt her heart break again. This poor baby. Who could do this.
He looked at her with fear and hope. He wanted-no needed to be saved. He was probably no older than 3. He had no understanding of what was happening to him. His tears had marked his face as the only place was covered in a layer of dirt.
"Hey, is okay I'm here to help. I'm going to take you away now. Is that okay? We'll get you some food." Yuu tried to keep her voice even to not scare him.
The boy crawled over to the place of the dead cat. And began shaking it.
"Nina!Nina!" He wailed trying to wake her up.
He didn't know she was dead. He didn't even understand what death was.
"I'm sorry Nina can't come with us." Yuu said pulling him gently by the back of his ragged shirt.
But children don't understand these things.
"Nina! No! Nina!" He yelled horsey.
"Shh, it's okay. Don't worry I'll come back for her later. I promise." Yuu hushed.
She could bury her in the garden. He clearly loved her a lot and the poor kitty deserves that much.
After untying the rope Yuu lifted the boy into her arms and carried him home. He made almost no noise as he buried himself in her arms.
Yuu promised herself that she'd never let something like this happen to him again. He would never be abandoned again, he'd never go hungry again, and he'd be loved. She'd love him, she swore it.
"My son." She whispered to no one at all but I affirmed everything she felt.
He needed a name. The case worker didn't have one for him on file. She got to choose one.
For a writer she struggled to find one.
Mal, Elliot, Leo, Cecil, Bishop, Ali, Jacob, Carter, Azure, Jess
Only one name stuck
Grimm
"Grimm! It time for bed. Grab a book if you want me to read it to you." Yuu said walking up the stairs.
Grimm scanned his bookshelf for one of his favorites. The titles were: "The Rose Queen", "The King of Beasts", "The Wishing Star", "The sea witch", "The Sand Serpent", "The fairy Gala", "The Little Robot", "Magic Cat", "The beautiful Queen", and "The Underworld and back again"
Grimm had a favorite right now. The newest among the children's book collection Yuu had written. She pulled it off the shelf and ran back to bed.
Yuu could barely keep up these days. Grimm was fast but Yuu had practice.
She pulled the covers over him and read the title as Grimm snuggled up with his favorite stuffed animal. It was another merchandise stuffed animal. It was a big gray cat with a stripped bow and purple crystal around its neck.
Grimm named it Nina and took it everywhere. Along as it comforted him Yuu said nothing.
"The Lonely Dragon: Once upon a time there was a powerful dragon prince who lived in a land far far away." Yuu began.
"But the dragon isn't lonely forever. He meets the lost princess and they become best friends! Oh and the Silver knight comes in stop the dragon here!" Grimm interrupted leaning over his mother.
" Well if you want to tell the story." Yuu sighed.
When Yuu finished Grimm asked her something.
"So the dragon isn't lonely anymore?" He looked at her with wide eyes.
"No, he has many friends and rules over a nice kingdom," Yuu said in a hushed voice as shifted his pillow to make him lie down.
"What about the lost princess?"
"The lost princess found her way home. She said goodbye to her friends and is where she belongs now."
"But is she lonely? Without all her friends?"
"She used to be but now she has a home. She misses her friends but she's happy."
"I wish I could meet her. I'd be her friend and she'd never be lonely again."
"I know, I'd bet she'd be so happy. Goodnight, baby."Yuu turned off the light as she kissed Grimm's cheek
"Night Mama." Grimm said kissing his mother back.
When Yuu left the room she kept the door open just a bit so Grimm wouldn't be afraid of the dark.
She took a deep breath. Maybe she shouldn't have written the Lost Princess series but it was so well loved these days what could she do?
Still, she could relive those days for just a brief moment and smile.
She made her way to the study to go back to writing her new book when a knock came from downstairs.
Yuu cautiously made her way to the door and pressed an ear to it to listen to who it might be. Forgetting she had a peephole. A familiar voice called her name from the other side.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland yuu#twst yuu#azul ashengrotto#vil schoenheit#leona kingscholar#malleus draconia#malleus x reader#riddle rosehearts#idia shroud#kalim al asim#jamil viper#twisted wonderland grim#vil shoenheit x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingsholar x reader#idia shroud x reader#kalim x reader#jamil viper x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#Spotify
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pleaseee write smth about that fight between Felix and reader
a/n i've been thinking about this scene for days so when i saw this ask i got so hyped
warnings: reader being AFAB/female is plot relevant (reader's father has always wanted a son), implied emotional/financial parental abuse (not described in too much detail), potentially inaccurate portrayal of early-ish 2000's phones bc i was a toddler during their oxford era, hurt/comfort
we're getting into reader's background!!
itallic texts = from felix, bold texts = from reader
There's a scratch embedded into the dark mahogany. It's small, no wider than something you could make with your finger nail.
"How's your food?"
Your attention shifts towards the ceramic plate that's almost covering the dining table's only blemish. "It's good," you mumble with a slight nod, fork instinctually jabbing at a piece of food without you even looking at it. "Yours?"
"Great," he hums casually, cutting into his steak. "Part of the reason I picked this hotel is because of the restaurant. The visiting chef's a guy that I met in New York when he was looking into financing an international expansion of his franchise."
You bring your utensil to your lips. "That's cool, daddy."
The comment only strengthens the question that's been silently ebbing at your mind since your father first suggested lunch. Why did he order room service instead of taking you to the hotel's restaurant? Your dad has always loved the ambiance, the leisure of sitting in a nice restaurant.
"Is that why you're in town?" You reach for your glass, taking a sip of your drink before continuing. "To finalize something with the chef?"
He sets down his knife. "That and a few other business arrangements that needed to be checked on." He pauses, shoulders relaxing. "And to see you, too, Ace. It feels like it's been awhile since we talked."
Your lips quirk into what's almost a smile. When your father called to let you know that he'd be staying near Oxford for work and that he wanted you to visit, you had been apprehensive at first. Your mother was cautiously supportive of the idea.
Things with your father have been relatively stable recently. He liked the way no university seemed off limits to you with your grades and extracurriculars. He loved the idea of a daughter studying abroad at Oxford (which, is part of the reason you seriously considered Princeton for some time). And he's been drinking less. Part of that whole reborn, second marriage to a late-20-something methodist thing.
"Yeah, dad," you agree, as sincerely as you can manage, "It's been awhile."
"You know I'm friends with one of your deans." He doesn't give you a chance to reply. "We had coffee together, and he told me you're on track to finish in the top 10%." Rumors about the top percentages had been circling around Oxford for the past month. Still, it's relieving to know. "Congratulations, Ace."
This time, your smile meets your eyes. "Thanks."
He smiles, a flash of something practiced and charming. "When I get home, the first thing I'm doing is picking out a gift to send to you."
"If you need time, you can always wait and give it to me over the summer."
The infamous summer. Your mother is going to be spending most of the summer volunteering for an organization that brings counseling to children that have survived traumatic experiences but can't affording therapy. Your father suggested that you stay with him for a little while so that you wouldn't have to spend an entire two months in an empty house.
He stretches an arm like he wants to pick up his fork, but decides against it. "I--I want to tell you something." His tone is softer now, almost hesitant. "But you have to promise not to cry."
You try to swallow around the lump in your throat, body familiar with the command. "Okay?"
"I don't know if this summer's going to work out the way we talked about." He taps his fingers against the surface of the table. Your eyes lock on the scratch marring the wood. "Things have gotten complicated."
"Complicated?"
Your father sighs. "I'm sure you've noticed Christine's not here." You can't bring yourself to react at the mention of your step-mother's name. "She isn't in--she isn't in the best condition to travel." The tapping continues. "Christine's pregnant. She's due in early June, and she isn't having an easy time. I think it'd be best to not do anything that could potentially be stressful."
Oh.
"It's a boy."
Oh. A boy. With his perfect wife, in his perfect penthouse on the Upper East Side. Of course. Of fucking course.
You can't breathe right or thing of the way you're supposed to react. All you can do is stare at the scratch. At the only thing that indicates that anything bad has ever happened to the table.
"You promised you wouldn't cry." The words feel far. "You look too much like your mother when you cry."
That seems to force you back to earth. Any and all reminders of your mother must be eradicated in his presence. "I know. I'm not going to cry." You blink once, hand moving to wipe away tears you refuse to let spill. "Congratulations."
He's quiet for a moment, pressing his lips together, before finally settling on a perfunctory, "Thank you." After a beat of silence, he continues, "Were you planning on staying tonight? I was thinking of flying back early, but I can--"
"Oh, no," you shake your head once, "I actually have a lot of homework, so it's probably better for me to get back."
Your father nods, "Always the academic, Ace." He pushes his seat back. "If you're done eating, I can walk you to the lobby and have my driver take you back."
"Yeah," you push back your own seat and stand, "Sounds good."
The two of you reach the front doors of the suite. "Hey," your father starts, "Why don't you travel this summer? That's all I did during college breaks. I'll pay so you can do it up right. You should go somewhere with a friend. Paris, maybe. You two always had fun as kids."
You nod once, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, daddy, I'll ask Paris about what she's doing this summer."
"Good." He pauses at the door, reaching into the pocket of his slacks. He pulls out his wallet and counts out a few bills. "Here. A pre-gift." You hesitate. "C'mon, top 10%."
Your mother's voice rings in your ears. He won't change, you might as well take the money. You stretch out a hand, forcing a smile as you take the cash. "Thanks."
----
Stupid. You're so fucking stupid.
You really thought you'd be there all weekend. You really thought Christine would let you into her home for longer than a day or two.
And the pregnancy thing? That--that's going to get back to your mom in one way or another if you don't tell her. And hearing that, hearing that your dad's finally getting his son is going to kill her.
It's all you've been thinking about since you got back yesterday afternoon. After mumbling a halfhearted explanation to your roommate, you changed into some pajama shorts and a giant T-shirt that you only realized was Felix's after the fact and crawled into bed. You've moved as little as possible since.
Something near the foot of your bed buzzes, snapping you back to the present. You flip the phone open, immediately noticing three text notifications. From Felix.
hope ur weekend's going better than mine
lovie
i feel abandoned
Despite your angst, you smile to yourself before sending a response: it's been one day.
After a minute, there's another text on your screen: so it's a crime to miss u. You roll your eyes, fondness pooling in your stomach. how are u doing.
The second question, though sincere, forces you to spiral. You want to be honest. You don't lie to Felix and he doesn't lie to you.
But, everything comes with exceptions, and making sure no one finds out how tense things actually are with your dad is yours. Before you two got close, it felt too private, and once you finally did, a few comments from Felix's friends made you feel like the worst thing you could do for your friendship was let him see any kind of darkness.
It's not that he'd judge you, he'd just want to help you so badly that it'd take over everything else. Farleigh's made it clear that Felix loves a charity case. And you don't want to be that. You won't let your dad take that from you, either.
You want to say that you're fine, maybe text a comment about things being a little awkward because it's no secret that your mom took care of you after the divorce. But lying about being on campus feels like something that could easily morph into something else.
Felix, who actually has enough of a social life to pull sleazy moves like that never has. i'm sick. came home early.
ur back!
why didn't u tell me
i'm sick, can't hang out
are u ok
do u need anything
Guilt prods at you. You've been texting him on and off since yesterday and never mentioned that you came back early. Felix is always so good to you. But, you're in no place to see him. no just need rest
You shut your phone. You're not sure that saying you're sick is enough to keep Felix away all weekend, but it could be enough to keep him away tonight. It's Saturday night. He'll have plans.
And tomorrow, you'll feel better. More stable.
"I have some time before I'm supposed to go to Jake's. I stole some bread from the dining hall." Nadia's offer is gentle. "Do you want to go feed the ducks?"
You wipe at your face. "That's a really nice offer, Nadia, but I'm feeling a little sick. Maybe when you get back?"
She frowns. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah," you mumble, "I just need some sleep."
"You've been sleeping on and off since yesterday afternoon." Nadia hesitates, eyes darting towards the bathroom. She does need to start getting ready for her date. "Maybe you can call Felix later? It's Saturday night, you know there's some terribly exclusive, not meant for any of us ordinaries party he's dying to take you to."
The attempt at humor is enough to get you to roll onto your side. "Since when do you like Felix?"
To be fair, Nadia's never disliked Felix. Before you became friends with him, she had a bit of a crush on him in that way that all freshmen girls at Oxford do. After you started hanging out with him all the time, that crush turned into an awareness that fueled her worry. She's always implied her concern that he'd eventually hurt you.
"I've never not liked him," she mumbles, "I was just scared he'd break your heart, but, the last couple of times he's come over...something about the way he looks at you."
"So you finally accepted we're just friends?"
She walks towards the bathroom, "Didn't say that."
You roll your eyes, letting yourself rest on your back. You shut your eyes, trying to force out any thoughts of the outside world as you drift off.
The familiar creek of the hinges of your room's door pulls you back to reality slowly.
"Took you long enough." Nadia's voice. "All she does is sleep and mope. She didn't even want to go feed the ducks today."
"She loves feeding the ducks." Another familiar, much more moving voice. You manage to move, wiping at your eyes as you sit up.
"I know!"
You finally sit up, blinking your eyes as your vision adjusts. Felix. He's standing in near the foot of your bed. "Felix--I-I told you I'm fine. Just a little sick."
"Nadia called and told me the opposite."
You turn your head to glare at you roommate, who doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed. "You stole my phone and called him?"
"I had to," she defends. "All you do is sleep and cry, and you've been like this since you came back yesterday."
Felix's expression drops as soon as the final word comes out. Your eyes widen, head shaking as subtly as possible as if a too late warning will erase the sentence from existence.
"Wait," his voice is softer than you've ever heard it, "You've been back since yesterday and you didn't tell me?"
You swallow, unable to look away from Felix.
"I--I have to go." Nadia's announcement breaks through the stiff silence. "I'll be back sometime tomorrow, so um..." She turns away, swinging an overnight bag over her shoulder before disappearing out the door. You can't blame her for running out as soon as possible.
"Felix," your voice is low, gravely, "Darling."
"Don't." His eyebrows pinch together, sadness tinging his expression. It doesn't fit him. "Why--why wouldn't you tell me you were here?"
You sit up a little straighter, wiping at your eyes with the back of your palm. "I told you I'm sick. I'm not up for anything right now."
Felix is still watching you with that kicked puppy look. "That doesn't--" He cuts himself off with a sigh. "You know I don't care if you don't want to do anything. We can--we can just sit or-or talk, or read or--do nothing." Felix presses his lips together, "I thought you knew that."
You know he's right, and that makes it harder to look at him. Felix would have been a sweetheart about it. He would have let you mope, cry even, and he would've spent the entire time holding you. It should have been easy to tell Felix, instinctual...and yet...
Your eyes briefly shut. "I do." The admission's painful to get out. Some of your hesitation was over the way Felix reacts to tragedy, but the rest is something more personal. Telling Felix would have solidified it. Would have made that label of 'abandoned child' that you've always been so wary about permanent. "It's more than that."
"Then what is it?"
Sighing, you push yourself to the edge of your bed. "My head hurts, I need a Tylenol."
Your words and movements are drowsy as you push yourself to stand. Felix takes a partial step forward before forcing himself to freeze into place. It's hard not to help you.
"Then what is it?"
You push open the bathroom door. "I don't--I don't know." It's a weak attempt at dismissing the conversation before things go to a place that you can't handle right now. "I couldn't get the words out." Still can't.
You find the pill bottle you were looking for on the bathroom counter and start working at twisting off the childproof cap. "We tell each other everything eventually." His voice is dry, almost hesitant. "At least, I do. We trust each other."
Your eyes shut as you sigh, fingers briefly releasing the top of the bottle. "Maybe that's not trust. Maybe that's your life being so perfect there's nothing you need to keep secret."
The words come out in a rush, angry and sharp. Regret floods through you instantly. "I'm sorry."
"No." The syllable is hard. "No. You're not. Don't do that. Don't--don't start saying what you think I need to hear--or keeping in what you think I don't." There's a concerned anger there, an unfitting combination that you don't have the energy to decode. "What could be so bad you can't tell me? We know about Ollie's parents and that didn't change anything, did it?"
Actually, things did change a little. Oliver's broken home life seemed to only make Felix want to pull Oliver into his world even more. You hate thinking it, because it's insensitive and a little mean, but of course Oliver was willing to give Felix all the gritty details.
After the initial implications came out, Felix devoured them with the same silver spoon that was placed in his mouth at birth. In a way, Felix's desire to fix and ease pain brought them closer together. And it probably means more to Oliver coming from Felix than anyone else.
But your relationship with Felix is different. You don't want sadness and coddling to be what makes you feel certain in your bond with Felix. You want things to stay the same. You don't want to give your dad anyway to change one of the most important connections in your life.
"You have a big heart, Felix, and I love that about you." Your hand reaches for the Tylenol again. "But I don't want you helping me to become all that I am to you. I don't want to be a charity case." You squeeze your eyes shut, cringing at your wording. "And--and I'm not trying to say that Ollie's just a charity case, it's that--some stuff Farleigh's said and--" Tears are pricking the edge of your vision.
"You're more than that," he scoffs the words out like it's ridiculous he even has to say that, "Of course you're more than that, I thought you knew." He scoffs. "I--I don't just wait around for people."
You scoff, the sound almost a bitter laugh. "Oh--so now it's not about trust, it's about your ego. That I don't just sit around next to my phone, waiting for the Felix Catton to call me."
Felix takes a step forward, "It's not about that!" You raise your eyebrows, uncertainty leaving you frozen. Felix has never yelled at you before. "...It's not about that," he repeats, voice a more acceptable volume. He takes another step forward, his fingers finding your forearm. "You know how I meant it."
There's a tension in the way he's touching your arm. It's nothing harsh, if anything it's almost too soft. Hesitant. He's watching you with an intensity that pins you into place more than his actual hold.
You wouldn't be surprised by his anger, you're not even sure you'd be able to blame him for it, but that's not what you see when you look at him. You can't exactly read the look behind his eyes, but something about it reminds you of Nadia's earlier comment.
It's heavy. Too heavy for you to think about tonight. That's how Felix is. He's intense. All consuming. When all you do is blink at him, he lets go of your arm.
"Felix."
His eyes dart towards the ground, body angling itself away from you.
It's subtle, and not a direct dismissal, but after everything that's already happened, it's enough to serve as a final nail hammered into your chest. "I don't want things to change between us." You sigh, finally getting the pill bottle's lid to pop off. "Because I'm fine."
You force a smile, but there's a tightness to your features that makes it feel like a grimace. "It's not a big deal. So my dad asked me not to come home this summer, because his wife's pregnant and he doesn't want to 'stress her out'. I'm fine." You can feel the tears welling in your eyes. "Y'know it's a b-oy." Your voice cracks on the last word, a laugh or maybe a sob interrupting the single syllable. "So um...good for him, he's finally getting his son."
Felix is watching you cautiously, expression not quite sympathetic, but not relaxed either. "Oh my god, I have to tell my mom. And it--it's going to kill her." You gasp the words like the realization's just hit you, even though it's been on your mind since the beginning. "I don't know why I said that like I'm surprised--because I--" You laugh, the sound shrill and uneasy, "But it's whatever. I'm fine."
You nod once, as if that'll be enough to make you feel fine. Another sound comes out, this one a lot closer to a whimper. "I'm fine. I don't know why I'm being so dramatic. I'm fine. I'm--" You squeeze your arms around your waist, supporting yourself the way Felix usually would.
You're crying openly now, tears blinding you. This is pathetic. You need to get it together.
You're pulled forward with no warning, your body hitting something solid and warm. Felix.
His arms around you, firm and supportive. It's surprising enough to force a full breath of air into your lungs. For a moment, all there is Felix. You inhale again, and again, doing your best to hold the air in your lungs.
Felix's hand smooths circles against your back. He whispers soothing words that you can barely make out. Between that and the even rhythm of his heart, you manage to ground yourself.
"You don't have to be nice to me right now," you mumble into his shirt. "I was really mean to you."
He continues to trace patterns against your spine. "We don't have to talk about that right now."
"I know," you whisper, "I just--I don't want you to feel like you can't be mad at me."
He gently smooths your hair away from your face. "Can I be mad from right here?"
"Yeah." You sniffle once, letting your chin press into his chest so that you can look up at him. "If you want to."
"Then okay," he mumbles, knuckles running up and down the length of your spine, "I'll be mad from right here."
----
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny
#bestfriend!felix x reader#bestfriend!felix#saltburn x reader#felix catton#felix catton x reader#jacob elordi#jacob elordi x reader
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Headboard
summary: eddie buys a headboard (and frame) for his bed but there's something... off about it.
pairing: eddie x fem!reader - no use of y/n
cw: 18+ (minors dni) this is obnoxiously long, established relationship, L-bombs, pet names, mentions of nosebleed, accidental injury, small abuse mention (nothing bad), mentions of sex, funny shit, teasing, wayne being an icon, eddie being a goofy dork, -I think that's all-
author's note: hey y'all 😩 I've been gone for a bit lol. All I've had time for is scrolling and not being able to write has been so depressing tbh. That with all the holidays and family drama I got going on rn has been so stressful omg. But I'm heree I'm writing now that I have a free minute to myself. Soo thanks for being patient love you! <3
(NOT PROOFREAD)
Eddie huffed, putting his hands on his hips as he glared at the bed frame and headboard sitting on his bedroom floor. Wayne hummed, tilting his head to look at the picture on the white headboard.
"Well, son, I didn't know princesses were your style!" he chuckled. Eddie rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "They're not! Dude didn't tell me it was his daughter's headboard!" he whined.
Wayne laughed, clapping a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Look, I'll run down to Melvald's and get you some paint. What you think? Bubblegum pink?" Wayne asked before busting out laughing.
Eddie crossed his arms, glaring at his uncle, "Oh, you think you're so funny. Well, I'll just put it on backwards so no one can see it. How about that?" he said. Wayne snorted and put his hands up in surrender. "Suit yourself!" he said before walking out of the room. Eddie sighed, grabbing a hair tie sitting on his bed, and pulling his hair up into a bun.
The only reason he got the damn thing was because of you. There were too many times during sex when he couldn't catch himself on the wall in time before falling on top of you. One trip to the ER after giving you a nosebleed was enough for him. So, he searched until he found a guy that was getting rid of a bed frame and headboard for a twin XL which was perfect. Only he didn't realize until he brought it home and took it out of the box that it was his ten-year-old daughter's headboard that had Disney princesses all over it.
Eddie sat on his floor, screwing together the bars that made up his bedframe until it came time to face the princesses. Eddie turned the headboard so it faced the wall and tried to screw it in backwards like he said. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't ask for you," Eddie snapped at Snow White. He rolled his eyes and continued his attempts with no such luck.
"Hey, boy. Your girl's here and I'm gonna go get you that paint. And don't worry, I won't get pink I promise," Wayne chuckled. Eddie snorted and thanked him, "Black, please. If you don't mind. If the pink is cheaper go on ahead," he joked. Wayne saluted him, grabbed his keys, and left. He ran into you on his way to his truck and he just had to tell you what was going on.
"Eddie got a bedframe and it's... not what he wanted. So I'm getting him some paint. You want anything while I'm out, dolly?" Wayne asked. You smiled and shook your head, "No, I'm alright. Thank you though! I'll go see what this dork is up to. I'll hold up the fort while you're gone. God knows what Eddie'll do alone," you laughed. Wayne laughed and ruffled your hair before hopping in his old truck and driving away.
You walked into the trailer and kicked off your shoes before wandering into Eddie's room and laughing at him sitting criss-cross on the floor trying to screw on a headboard the wrong way. "You look goofy," you snickered. "Jesus! Baby, you scared the shit out of me!" Eddie exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest.
You smiled and flopped down on his bed. Eddie gave up on his project and leaned down to kiss you instead. "Got a headboard so I can't abuse you anymore," Eddie snickered, bopping your nose to prove his point. You laughed and rolled your eyes, "It was one time 'ya goober!" you giggled, bopping him back.
"Still! At least now I can do that super hot and sexy headboard maneuver when we do it," Eddie said, doing air thrusts and pretending to smack someone's ass. You smacked your hand to your forehead, but you had to laugh anyway. Eddie snickered and flicked some stray hairs out of his face. "Wayne tell you he was getting paint?" he asked, sitting on the floor in front of you and rubbing circles into your calves. You smiled, playing with his hair as best you could in its bun. "Yeah. What's wrong with it anyway? Looks like a normal ass headboard," you asked.
Eddie sighed, going over to the stupid thing and turning it to show you the problem. You covered your mouth before bursting into laughter.
"Don't laugh!" Eddie grumbled, pouting and squinting at Cinderella's mocking smile. You giggled, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye. "I'm not laughing at you! I just think it would be fucking hilarious if we were doing it and Snow White was staring you down!" you laughed.
Eddie curled his lips in, trying to pretend like that wouldn't be funny. "Look, just- when Wayne comes back will you help me paint?" Eddie asked, "I'll make you popcorn and we can watch a movie after?" he offered to sweeten the pot. You hummed and faked having to think about it before you smiled and agreed. Eddie cupped your cheeks and kissed you as a thank you, planting tiny kisses all over your face after.
"Okay! Okay! Don't smother me, goof," you giggled.
"I just love you."
"I love you too, but you're squishing my cheeks, dear."
--
"I'm so sorry, baby," Eddie breathed, holding a handful of tissues to your bleeding nose. You side-eyed him and sighed. "I thought you said the headboard was gonna fix this problem. I think it might've broken this time," you said. Eddie winced, reaching over to the tissue box the hospital receptionist gave you two.
"I'm really sorry. I tried to catch myself! I just... missed?" Eddie said, cringing. You snickered and sighed, tossing your clump of tissues away and grabbing more. "It's okay. It'll be a funny story to tell the kids someday," you said.
"We're not telling the kids you broke your nose having sex!"
small a/n: it's been a while lol but hopefully this is alright :)
#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie my beloved#eddie x y/n#eddie stranger things#eddie munson (shaggy's version)#joseph quinn smut#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things imagine#joseph quinn#joseph quinn fluff#joseph quinn fic#my fanfic
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𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗿𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝘆.
pairing. pervy roommate! gojo x f! reader
genre. (implied) friends to lovers, smut
warnings. panty sniffing, gojo jacks off with reader's panties, hair-pulling, pet names (doll, love), loss of virginity, rough sex, unprotected sex, big dick gojo, choking, gojo and reader are in their late teens ok (18 - 19), fingering
words. 6k
summary. satoru always hated laundry day, but now he's quite fond of it. after all, he gets to see all your cute panties and steal a pair for his personal use.
note. i want to use his cum as a face mask and this is the result 👩🏻🦯
comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3
"Satoru, you're–"
"Handsome, intelligent, charming and funny." A smirk graces Satoru's features and he probably would've flipped his hair if it was any longer. He sends you a cheeky wink as he leans against the kitchen counter, as full of himself as ever as he strikes a pose that would make any girl swoon for him. "Yeah, I know."
Well, any girl but you.
Sometimes, you wonder why you agreed to be Satoru's roommate. Maybe it was the fact that Jujutsu dorms cost so much that you couldn't handle the finances on your own and like the snake in Adam and Eve's garden, Satoru seduced you into this hilarious arrangement.
"I've got the money," he said.
"It'll be fun," he said.
A sigh slips your lips and if it weren't for the laundry basket in your hands, you would've put your palm to your head. This man is the sole cause of all your headaches. "You're doing the laundry today."
And with an echoing smack, you drop the laundry basket in front of his feet with your infamous are-you-kidding-me look.
"Again?!" Satoru pouts as he begrudgingly picks up the basket of dirty laundry and glares at the clothes like they're his sworn enemy, his arch nemesis. "I did them like two weeks ago, right? This counts as roommate abuse, I'm certain!" Is that a whine you hear in his voice?
Crossing your arms over one another, you pop your hip to the side and raise a fine eyebrow at your stupidly handsome roommate. "And I did them last week. It's your turn now, Satoru," your voice is stern as you bend over slightly in an accusing way. "While I signed up to deal with your chaotic ass, you signed up to do the laundry every two weeks!"
The daggers your eyes throw at Satoru make him think twice about dishing out another smart comment, but he can't help it. He thinks you're cute when you glare at him like this, hands on your hips and the hint of your cleavage blessing his Six Eyes. It's the only reason why he winds you up like this.
"Whoa there! If you keep glowering like this, you'll get wrinkles!," Satoru snickers as he dashes into the bathroom before you could cuss him out or toss another piece of laundry at his head. For some reason, you had once managed to toss a pair of his dirty boxers at his head from around the damn corner.
Satoru swears up and down that you put cursed energy into your throw, but you deny all accusations like you're a saint.
"No idea what you're talking about," you smiled.
"Maybe it got possessed by the laundry curse," you said.
He still calls bullshit on your claims.
Satoru finds himself sitting on the cool tiles of the bathroom. It's a little small with the laundry basket by his side, but he'll survive..right?
A bored look settles down on his face as he glances at the laundry, sighs in agony and grabs two articles of clothing, one being white, the other being a bright baby blue. In the back of his head, he can hear you nagging him about something..something seemingly important.
What was it again..?
Ah, right.
"Remember to separate the whites from the colored ones," Satoru mocks you in a high-pitched voice as he disregards your advice with purpose and stuffs your baby blue summer dress into the washing machine along with his snow white dress shirt.
Honestly, what could go wrong? The laundry coming out fresh and clean? Boohoo, what a bummer. It'd be a shame if the two of you had good-smelling clothing. How scary.
Pettily, Satoru tosses the laundry into the washing machine piece after piece. As he reaches the bottom of the laundry basket, interest gleams in his eyes as he spots the couple of bras and panties you hid underneath all the clothing and his underwear (which he always boldly and responsibly puts in the laundry!).
After several months of living together, Satoru has seen your underwear more times than he can count and he wonders why you're still so embarrassed about it. He's seen all your granny panties.
A pair of simple, dark purple panties catch his attention. Nimble fingers are quick to pick them up and Satoru regards them with..intrigue. They're plain and it's obvious you haven't gotten laid yet, but there's a cute little bow at the front. These must be new, he concludes.
Your nude feet are still parading around the kitchen as you diligently clean the space just like the two of you agreed on and it'd take a while for you to finish your part of the deal. Nevertheless, Satoru quietly shuts the door just in case..
"These are cute..," he muses to himself and stretches the fabric with his two index fingers. Lips pursed in thought, brilliant blue eyes scrutinize the panties with a certain glint like he's assessing, judging them over the rim of his pitch black sunglasses.
This is a good pair of panties, but nowhere as cute as the ones with the floral patterns; those are Satoru's personal favorites that are still hidden in his nightstand's drawer. He swears he's no pervert, but he can't help himself!
You're nothing but sweet to Satoru, always offering him the last slice of pizza and taking care of him when he's sick. A cute red hue dusts your cheeks whenever he teases you and oh, the way you stumble over your words when he compliments you! You get so awkward, it's cute.
What does Shoko call you? Ah right, a girlfailure.
Luckily for you, Satoru is very much into the girlfailure he shares the dorm with, although he hides it well behind an exterior of teasing, banter and his natural charm.
Once Satoru is done inspecting your panties, he brings the fabric to his nose and inhales your scent, feeling a little ball of heat form in the pit of his stomach. He gulps down the lump in his throat. There's no scent sweeter than that of your pussy when you got your own panties wet. It's obvious on that little wet patch darkening the fabric a tad bit.
Oh, how adorable you have to be when your little cunt gets excited, soaks your panties and you can't do anything about it.
"Hmm..," Satoru hums in thought before stuffing that certain pair of panties into his pockets. "I'll keep these for research purposes."
It's late at night when Satoru tosses and turns in his bed. It's not the summer heat that makes it hard to fall asleep, but the thought of you. The way you'd show off your legs in those little shorts, your cleavage blessing his glimmering eyes from underneath the top and the way you are..you around him.
All of it gets to him in ways that he could never say out loud or else you'd kick him out in an instant.
"This sucks," Satoru groans and tosses an arm over his eyes, rolling around in self-pity. Who would've guessed that he'd fall for the cute new classmate who has as much of an attitude as he does? Maybe if you weren't like this, he wouldn't be lying on his back, fighting back a raging boner as he thinks about your sweet smile.
Satoru tries ignoring it. He thinks of Yaga's cursed corpses, Shoko calling him a loser for staring at you like a love-struck puppy and the way you felt in his arms when he had to save you from a curse.
He sighs in agony. Enough is enough!
Satoru hooks his fingers into the elastics of his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. A wet smack bounces off the walls as his cock springs free and slaps against his abdomen, twitching and throbbing. Satoru groans.
The tip is flushed a pretty shade of red and pre-cum oozes from the slit, pooling on his heated skin. His cock is curved upwards and certainly doesn't lack in thickness or length. A pretty vein runs across the sensitive skin, starting from the base and going all the way up to the flushed tip.
Shit..," Satoru cusses softly and briefly leans his head back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just thinking about you wearing those cute panties, pushing them to the side and sheathing his cock in your tight hole is enough to get him this hard, to get him this eager to fuck you.
But he can't.
You'd likely slap the living daylights out of him.
Satoru wraps your used panties around his hand like he's done many, many times before before he fists his cock. One drag up and another one going down. The soft fabric of your panties rub him just the right way, drawing a deep groan from the depth of his chest.
"Fuck, [Name]..," he breathes out and gradually begins rubbing his cock at a steady pace. "You'll be the death of me.."
Satoru can no longer help himself. His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps, thinking of your cute smile. The way you call out his name, come crawling to him when you need comfort and not to mention you accidentally flashed him your panties when you were up against a curse.
But that's not all. He can only imagine sinking himself into your cunt, stretching you out and making you cry as he fucks you into the mattress. Certainly, he'd leave your greedy pussy leaking of his cum and wanting more until he'd overstimulate himself.
Satoru moves his fist faster and tightens his grip around his cock. Pre-cum stains the dark fabric of your panties that slide along his length so effortlessly, like you've chosen that specific pair just for him to use.
"Crap, just a bit more..," he mumbles, voice thick with a mix of longing and lust alike.
One tight drag upwards, he uses his thumb to massage the swollen head of his cock, squeezing some more pre-cum out. The white essence stains his fist, your used panties and trickles down the length of his cock until the drops pool at his heavy balls.
Would you let him use your hand like that?
Scratch that, why would he cum over your delicate hand when he could fuck your mouth, have tears streaming down your cheeks and cum down your little throat?
Yeah, that seems much better.
"Fuck, yeah.. Just like that.." Satoru's abs twitch in anticipation and his cock twitches in his hands as he gradually speeds up. The scent of your panties invades his nose, making him delirious and clouding his mind. All he can think about is cumming in your pretty panties.
His hips buck up into his fists and he quickly wraps the crotch of your panties around the tip. He's so close he can taste it. "Ah.. Ngh.. Fuck.. Yes, yes, yes!"
The movement of Satoru's fist is messy, almost needy as he finally cums with your name on his tongue. "Ah fuuck, [Name].."
Pearly white cum stains the fabric of your panties and soaks them as Satoru rubs himself through his orgasm, milking himself of every last drop. Groans and moans generously spill from his lips as he thinks of you, your perfect lips wrapped around his tip and swallowing his cum like a good girl.
Sweat trickles down his temple as he comes down from his high, soft huffs escaping his lips. Pulling the panties away from the head of his cock, Satoru stares at the pool of cum like he's entranced.
He wonders if you'd wear those with his cum on them, his seed sticking to your pretty pussy all damn day.
"Shit.." Satoru wants to discard the panties, let them join the laundry basket so you wouldn't notice but when his brilliant blue eyes flutter open, they suddenly meet your gaze.
Your eyes are wide, lips parted and your tongue slides out to wet them. A glimmer of shock swims in your eyes and a hue of red dusts the apples of your cheeks.
All you wanted was to seek out his company since you had trouble sleeping, but when you opened the door just a tiny bit, you suddenly watch Satoru shamelessly jacking himself off with your newest pair of panties. As embarrassed as you are, you cannot deny the throb between your legs or the wetness pooling there.
He looked..pretty when he came.
Satoru groans. "Instead of watching, you could help a guy out, you know?"
"Excuse me..?" Your ears must be deceiving you just like your eyes. Certainly, this has to be a very realistic dream in which you catch Satoru jacking off, but you'd wake up soon, right? You'd wake up and keep this dream to yourself to save yourself from Satoru's onslaught of teasing words.
Clicking his tongue, Satoru sits up on his bed and pets the spot beside him. "You can't sleep, right? C'mere, I'll help you out."
Yes, this definitely has to be a fever dream of yours.
Against your better judgment, you sit down right next to your roommate who still has your panties - which are stained with his cum - in his fist. The mattress dips with your weight and you shyly fold your hands in your lap. You can't bring yourself to look Satoru in the eyes. Not when his cock is out in the open and standing at attention again.
"Look at me," Satoru demands and for a brief second, you do look at him only to bashfully avoid your gaze again. He thinks nothing of it. Grabbing your chin, he makes you look at him and your lips part in shock once more. "What's wrong, hm? You're usually not so..shy," he teases in low, raspy tones.
In the dim light of the little lamp on his nightstand, being dipped in soft orange hues, your eyes glimmer. Words don't come to you easily, your throat feels tight. How the hell are you supposed to react?
"This is..weird," you manage to squeak out and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment.
Satoru looks at you and then down at himself. He must admit that it is quite the entertaining situation with his dick whipped out, but with the way you're not pushing him away, he knows he's got you on the hook. All you need is a little bit of..coaxing.
"It's only weird if you want it to be." Satoru leans in until his lips are on your ear, whispering right into it. His hot breath sends a pleasant tingle down your spine and his lips press a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear. The kissing sound is soft, yet so wet.
"Satoru, you're–"
"Shh, just relax..," he whispers into your ear. Cupping your jaw lovingly, slow kisses travel from your ear to your cheek and end up on your lips. His kiss is firm, slow, yet there's a certain amount of desire laced into it like he wants you to drown in the pleasure along with him.
You hold Satoru's gaze through half-lidded eyes as your lips move in perfect sync; the result of having worked together for several years now. A firework of butterflies goes off within your tummy, sparking a fire and setting the blood within your veins ablaze. You can't fight it anymore.
Not when he kisses you like he loves you.
When Satoru sneaks his tongue past your lips and draws a soft moan from you, he smiles into the kiss. He finally has you where he's been wanting you for so long. You melt into his strong arms and paw at his chest like you want something more from him, but all he does is chuckle at your silent plea.
Breaking the kiss, a thin string of saliva connects your lips to his and your breath comes out in short huffs. Satoru smiles as he sees the hazy look on your face. "That's a good girl," he praises. "In the end, you're just my girl, aren't you?" He's oh-so-gentle when he strokes your cheeks and you swear..you're falling for him. Hard.
You nod your head. "Yes. I'm..your girl."
"Come here." Satoru cups your jaw and pulls you into another kiss, this time sneaking his tongue past your lips. He draws a surprised gasp from your lips, but he pays it little to no mind as you melt into the kiss. Freely, he explores your mouth and shoves his tongue in just a bit deeper.
Your fingers bury themselves in his hair as you let your back down onto the mattress, pulling Satoru down with you. He gets comfortable between your legs and uses one hand to caress the skin of your upper thigh. Oh, you're so soft compared to his calloused hands.
He trails kisses from your jaw down to your neck where he playfully nibbles at the sensitive skin. Frisky lips suckle your skin between his teeth, sucking pretty hues of purple and blue into your skin. Your hands grasp his tee, a pleasured hiss slips your lips. "S-Satoru.."
Satoru smiles. You sound so cute.
But he doesn't stop there. No. Calloused hands grip your waist and Satoru trails his kisses and bites lower towards your collarbone and furrows his brows when he comes into contact with the sorry excuse of a top you're wearing. It irritates him, but he knows just the way to solve it.
"Off with it." With one swift motion, he pulls your top up and off, tossing it into some corner of his room. Sitting up on his knees, brilliant blue eyes drink your body in.
Those rosy cheeks and shimmering eyes, the curve of your collarbone and your perky little tits begging for his attention. Your waist feels just right in his large hands.
Satoru can't help but smirk. "You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?," he muses more to himself than you and before you can say anything, he dips his head low and greedily. sucks your nipple into his mouth.
Arching your back off the mattress, you moan his name in broken syllables. White strands of hair tickle your skin, but that's not even the most distracting thing. It's the way he grabs your tits, gropes them and swirls his tongue around your nipples.
"A-ah, Satoru!" Your hands fly into his hair, tugging at the roots, but Satoru pays you no mind. In fact, he groans in appreciation. "Slow down!," you beg but he skillfully ignores your pleas like always.
"Are they sensitive?" Satoru pulls away from your nipple with a wet pop and smirks as it glistens in his saliva. "They look sensitive." Grabbing a new handful of your tits, he squeezes them harder until you whine, kiss-swollen lips parted and all. You curl your toes and dumbly nod your head. "Of course they are.."
Wrapping his strong arms around your waist, Satoru leans in until his lips brush against the conch of your ear. He gives it a slow, tantalizing lick. "You're so responsive and sensitive. I can't wait to hear you when I sink my cock into you," he whispers into your ear, voice rough and thick with primal lust.
"Then do it," you whine and buck your hips up into his. Your clothed pussy grinds into his cock in delicious ways. You can feel his size through the material and briefly wonder how he's supposed to fit. "Just fuck me already, Toru.."
Your begging catches Satoru off-guard. He blinks at you once, twice before his lips crack into a mischievous smile. "My, my, you're so impatient and demanding for a virgin." It feels like he's mocking you as he's pulling his tee off, revealing his toned abs to your greedy little hands. "I've gotta prep you a bit, doll. Or else you'll whine about how it's too big."
With blazing, fond eyes, Satoru watches you as your hands appreciatively wander from his toned stomach all the way up to his muscled chest. Your gentle touch is enough to leave a burning path behind that makes his muscles twitch underneath the tips of your fingers.
"I would never..," you mumble absent-mindedly, soft palms stroking his flexing biceps all the way down to his forearms. You've seen Satoru shirtless countless times and yet, you never quite realized just how..built he really is. It's about damn time you appreciate him, right?
"Oh baby.. Yes, you would.." Satoru grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding it to the elastic of his shorts and boxers, encouraging you to pull them off completely.
You take a steady breath through your nose and hold his gaze while pulling off the rest of his clothes, tossing them away like he did earlier. For a moment, you don't dare to look any lower than his mesmerizing eyes. It felt..indecent, but isn't that the fun part?
"There we go," Satoru snickers once the remaining clothes are off your body and on his bedroom floor. He's shameless as he grabs your knees and forces your legs open to stare at your leaking cunt. The lips are glossy and sticky with arousal. If he looks closely, he can see your tight walls fluttering around nothing. "Fuck..gonna loosen you up a bit first, okay? It'll feel good, trust me."
"Y-yes.." You nod your head, voice barely above a whisper.
Satoru kneels in-between your legs and uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips open. Long fingers massage your messy lips to get you used to the feeling, steadily rubbing them up and down before his fingers go to brush your clit.
"Ah!" You curl in on yourself, your thighs want to squeeze shut but are stopped by Satoru's slim waist. "Satoru, that's–!"
"Good, isn't it?" He finishes your sentence with a smug expression on his face and cocks his head to the side as he watches you squirm. His thumb teases your clit in slow circles, playfully flicking the nub a few times until you're moaning his name. Oh, Satoru's having way too much fun touching you like this.
"Yes, yes! O-oh!" Your eyes go wide as Satoru lathers his fingers in your essence and glides his middle finger down to your entrance, slowly sliding it into your tight cunt. "It feels..funny.."
Satoru laughs. It's loud and melodious and makes you blush deeply. "Don't worry. You'll feel good in a moment. Just relax and enjoy it, doll."
Gently, Satoru curves his finger upwards and thrusts it in and out of your cunt. The initial uncertainness on your face morphs into pleasure and your head drops back into the pillows. Soft moans and sighs spill from your lips, your legs fall open. Pleasure begins to cloud your mind.
"Good girl," he praises you and lowers himself on top of you to press a kiss to your cheek. "All you have to do is take my fingers one by..," Satoru trails off and eases his ring finger into your cunt, gently rubbing that sweet spot within you. "..one."
"Ngh..ah..oh god.." You dig your fingers into the sheets below and arch your back, pressing your tits flush against his hard chest. With twitching thighs, you grind your hips into Satoru's skilled fingers and moan your praises right into his ear. "More.. Need more.."
"You're still a bit too tight for my cock, love," Satoru chuckles as he picks up the pace, fingerling your little pussy in scissoring motions. "I don't wanna see you cry about it..yet."
Each time he drills his fingers into you, his skin smacks against yours, making your hole squelch embarrassingly loud. Moans and whimpers spill from your lips as Satoru effortlessly pokes that sweet spot that you could never reach. Excitedly, your walls flutter around his fingers, sucking them in deeper and welcoming his index finger.
The stretch burns in delicious ways as he spreads his fingers a bit, making sure to spread you a bit before he'd fuck you.
"There we go," Satoru murmurs once you can take all three of his fingers and your juices drip onto the sheets. The smile gracing his lips almost seems to be one of pride. "Think you can take me yet, doll?"
Hastily, you nod your head. "Yes, please! I want you so bad, Toru.."
Satisfied with your answer, Satoru slowly pulls his fingers from your pussy, a thin string of arousal following the tips of his fingers. Your juices are webbed between his fingers and he can't help but admire it for a moment before licking his fingers clean.
"Mhh..I can't wait to put my mouth on you next time," Satoru muses as your taste clouds his taste buds. But where's the fun when he's the only one tasting your juices? With a smirk, he pries your lips open and slides his fingers into your mouth. "Go on. Taste yourself."
A soft expression falls over your face as you wrap your tongue around Satoru's fingers and suck on them. The taste of your cunt has you flushing from your chest up. This is filthy, something you've never even thought of doing, but with Satoru..you'd nearly do everything he demands of you. And so you eagerly suck his fingers clean with a little moan.
Once he's certain you've done your job right, Satoru pulls his fingers out of your mouth and absent-mindedly wipes them dry on the sheets. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls your body flush to his and pushes you into the mattress with his weight. His breath fans across your cheeks.
"This might sting a bit, doll. But you'll get used to it, yeah?," he assures you. Although he appears so composed and level-headed, one glance towards his cock is enough to let you know that he's just as impatient as you are.
Your eyes fall back to his and you wrap your arms around his neck. "It's okay..I can take it."
Satoru smiles and locks your lips with his as he swiftly thrusts his hips against yours, sheathing his cock within your tight walls. It's a messy kiss; you whine into his mouth as he stretches your cunt out and slowly goes deeper, deeper, deeper. Your nails are buried in his scalp, pulling at his hair and your breath comes out in pathetic huffs.
Once he's balls deep in your pussy, Satoru breaks the excuse of a kiss and rests his forehead on your own, composing himself. A steady huff slips his lips as he tries his best to keep still. "Fuck.. I loosened you up and you're still so fucking tight," he groans.
Satoru's words send a shiver down your spine and your walls seem to suck him in a bit deeper. "Shit.. You're b-big..," you say, voice a bit high-pitched but sugary sweet.
He laughs, gently. That's the sort of ego boost someone like Gojo Satoru definitely doesn't need. "I told you it'd be a tight fit."
Large palms caress your thighs and hips while he's peppering kisses up and down your neck. "Tell me when I can move, doll.."
For a moment, you bask in the attention Satoru so generously provides you with. Little kisses, gentle caresses and sweet nothings whispered in your ear. The pain of the stretch slowly ebbs away and you nod your head. "Move, Toru..," you mumble with a desperate edge. "Please move.."
You don't have to tell him twice. Satoru pulls his hips back until only the tip remains and slowly thrusts back into your cunt with a deep grunt. Dull fingernails bury themselves into the skin of your hips as he sets a slow pace and draws moan after sweet moan from your lips.
Your toes curl. Satoru's cock presses into all the right spots that you could never reach on your own. He wipes all worries and every possible thought from your mind. You throw your head back into the pillows and arch your back, tits bouncing with each thrust he delivers to your freshly popped cunt. "Ah..mh..fuck yes.."
Your moans increase in volume and pitch; he picks up the pace and buries his face in the crook of your neck where he bites into the skin to muffle his own noises, claiming you as his. "Crap..so tight..so wet.." A few curses fall from Satoru's lips.
Pushing you further into the mattress, Satoru grabs your wrists and pins them up above your head; you don't even seem to notice. He finishes each thrust with a roll of his hips and groans whenever your gummy walls flutter around him, needing him to stay right where he is.
Suddenly, your eyes go wide and a little scream is torn from your throat. "Ah! Toru! Right there!"
"Right here?," Satoru rolls his hips into yours again, placing his large palm on your lower abdomen, only to draw the very same reaction from you. You rapidly nod your head, lip bitten between your teeth. He smirks. "So that's the spot, huh.."
Satoru interlaces your fingers together and begins abusing that spot for good measure. His cock drills into your poor pussy over and over again as you moan and squirm underneath him. Around his waist, your thighs shake. Your juices drip down your ass and his balls, making each smack just a tad bit louder, filthier. His groans mix with your moans and little babbles.
The way you look at him through half-lidded eyes, taking his pounding like you're made for him specifically and offering your body for his pleasure. It's all too much for Satoru.
"Shit..can't make love to you when you're looking at me like this." Letting go of your hands, Satoru swipes his sweaty strands of hair back and briefly pulls out of you. Calloused palms grip your waist and easily flip you flat on your stomach.
A squeak of surprise slips your lips as your face is suddenly in the pillows and the way you look at him over your shoulder is probably awkward, too. "Toru..?," you ask through heavy pants.
Hands still on your waist, Satoru uses his strength to push you into the mattress, to keep you from squirming. "Hold still. I need to fuck you, doll."
There's no need to question what exactly he means by that when his cock bullies its way into your small cunt again. This time, you cry his name into the pillows and lightly kick your legs as he drills right into that spot that makes you see stars.
Satoru is no longer gentle with you as he fucks into you over and over again, shamelessly using your body like he's dreamed of for so long now. All the cute noises you make only fuel him more until he's pounding you into the mattress.
Eyes rolling into the back of your skull, all you can do is moan his name loud enough for everyone to hear. Any bit of decency or shame is wiped clean from your mind as Satoru drills his cock into you with precision.
"Still such a tight little pussy..," Satoru laughs, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly. "Do you like it that much when I use you like this? Tell me."
A rough hand grips the roots of your hair on the top of your head as Satoru leans over your body, pressing his front flush to your back as he continues to pound away at your pussy. His mouth is right at your ear, groaning into it. "C'mon, use your big words like you always do, doll."
Tears gather at your eyes and they're quick to run down your cheeks. You can hardly think straight, much less form a coherent sentence with the way he's treating you. It takes you a moment to pull yourself together before your voice comes out as a broken moan paired with sobs. "I love it, Toru! Don't stop, please.. Please, please don't stop.. Feels too good.."
Satoru groans at your words and rewards you with a particularly sharp thrust. The hand in your hair slides down around your throat, choking you lightly as he catches your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss.
Your eyes roll back again as Satoru easily dominates your tongue. The slippery muscles slide against each other, getting all tangled up and making saliva slip from the corner of your mouth. "Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts into your mouth, his lips finding yours a few times like he needs more of your taste.
"Toru..," you whine, lips swollen from all the kissing and glossy with his saliva. "I'm gonna.. Ah! Oh God!"
"I know baby," Satoru hushes you softly. By the way your cunt clenches around him sporadically, your shaking thighs and those hot tears rolling down your cheeks, he can tell you're close. "Let it go. I've got you."
Your orgasm comes crashing down on you with one skilled roll of Satoru's hips. A yell of his name tears through your throat as you cum all over his cock, making a mess of his lap and the sheets below. He keeps you in check as you squirm and sob and he whispers sweet praises into your ear that go in one ear and out the other. He helps you ride the waves of your high.
"Fuck, gonna fill this sweet pussy up..," Satoru groans and thrusts into your abused cunt a few more times before he buries his face in your neck, groaning your name loudly as he squirts thick ropes of cum right inside. His hips come to a halt as he grinds his essence deeper into you until it seeps out from where he's plugging your hole so deliciously.
For a while, you bask in Satoru's weight collapsing on top of you as he holds you impossibly closer and caresses your lower stomach with sweaty palms. Lazily, he peppers sweet kisses along your neck and pushes your sweaty hair away from his path so he can nuzzle into you all he wants. Snowy strands of hair tickle your face.
"That was..," you start, still out of breath.
"..amazing," Satoru finishes for you with a chuckle.
Not long after, Satoru is kind enough to pull out of you and clean up the mess he's caused. Every once in a while, he claims that it's mainly you who caused the mess since you were, quote "dripping wet", but he's just teasing you, changing not only the sheets but cleaning you up with a damp cloth as well.
Satoru slides right underneath the covers with you and lets you rest your head on his chest while holding you close to his body. Although the room smells like sex, the two of you savor the post-orgasm glow and just..hold each other.
"You know, you're quite the pervert for watching me jack off," Satoru breaks the silence and draws a faux offended gasp from you. Playfully, you smack his chest and he snickers. You always give him such perfect reactions.
"It's you who's the pervert! You jacked off with my panties!" It explains why all your panties disappear for a while only to suddenly spawn from the washing machine.
Satoru rolls his eyes. "Duh? How could I help myself when they're so cute? It's your fault, obviously."
The both of you banter back and forth for a while, mixed with laughter and giggles that fill the room. Despite the fact that Satoru is a panty stealer, the moment is quite sweet. You're glad that you can still laugh with him like this after having done..unspeakable things.
Once the laughter dies down and your eyes grow heavy, you feel like you should confess one more thing before drifting off to dreamland in Satoru's arms. Your voice is quiet and soft as you speak. "I've..used a pair of your boxers.."
Satoru tightens his arm around you and takes a breath through his nose. "Have you touched yourself in them?"
Silence follows, speaking volumes about the deeds you have committed.
"..Can I sniff them?"
"You pervert!"
"Objection! You're just as messed up as I am!"
feel free to send me your jjk thirsts/thoughts and i'll write a lil' something <3
#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo satoru smut
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Father in law (part one)
(Potential yandere Bruce Wayne x reader)
( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)
Note: I use a gender neutral name, Angel, for Bruce's child.
Summary: Your life with your partner isn't going well, you have to do something about it.
Tw: mentions of abuse, harm and unaliving.
The sound of the TV echoed in the living room of the Manor, the atmosphere of the room tense, it had been like that since whenever you visited your partner. You rolled your eyes as you heard the chuckles of the presenters on the screen, a picture of you taken by paparazzi when you were in a hurry plastered on the corner of the screen. Angel tried to distract you by offering you a cup of tea but you declined, making them worry even more for you, but you were too lost in your misery to care.
Since your relationship became serious with Angel your life had become a literal hell, every date had ended up in some form of misery for you, Angel didn't get any of the side effects of your situation though and you didn't know how it had happened. How you had ended up on the paparazzi news, your life displayed as the worst version of what it could be, belittled and bullied, you had lost your job because of your tarnished image and you had lived in your car since your landlady had thrown you out because you were a "sexually deviant, arrogant and abuser" person and she didn't want you close to her own home. Speaking of the car, you had to refill its tank, but you didn't have the money for it. Damn it!
You groaned under your breath as you looked At angel who had tilted their head to the side, calling your name to catch your attention. God, how much you both hated and loved them at the same time. It was easy to love them, they were kind and caring, beautiful in every sense, perfect in every way, no wonder they were so popular, but, that also was the reason that you hated them as well, they had everything you did not, and since the time you had started dating, your life had become a literal hell.
"Angel..." you spoke, a little surprised by your tone, it sounded...weak "I wanted to talk about something..." Their body turned towards you so they could give you their whole attention, you wanted to wince at the gleam in their eyes, they looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, at first it was pleasant to have someone like that but now it was sort of like a hex, giving you the chills. Shivering slightly you cleared your throat and shifted on your seat "I've been thinking about breaking up..."
"What?! Why?!" Angel's hurt voice made you recoil in your seat, you wanted to tell them everything, to tell them all that happened to you had made you miserable, but you only sighed in their response "Something has been bothering you?" Angel's question made you wince, Angel was perfect but had a mortal flaw, they were delusional, you didn't know but it ran in their family. In their eyes you weren't dirty or miserable, you were simply tired, bored, or perhaps a little sick. What was on TV was just a joke, and perhaps you didn't have the humor to laugh at it, you were just a little rusty, that's all, right? Then why you wanted to break up? Was the date you had not good enough? Your dates were so much fun, they always ended up with a funny scene, you had so much fun together, and you were perfect together, why now you were talking about breaking up?
You palmed your face, sighing, looking away from Angel, only to see their father standing in the corner with an interested look on his face, Bruce Wayne, oh God you hated that man to your core, whenever you met him he'd roast you so hard that you'd end up like a lump of burnt coal, the look in his eyes showed that he looked down on you, not to mention his fucking family, ugh, you just wanted to get away from all of this, after all, you got into that mess just for the sake of dating Angel Wayne.
You turned to your partner "Look, I just want to break up okay?" Angel paused, the look on their face darkening, oh dear God here we go. "Am I not enough? Y/N, I have done everything I could to make you happy! What is wrong? Don't you love me anymore?" "No! I don't love you anymore!" You said harshly, wanting to push them away, even if it meant they'd be hurt emotionally, but to your frustration, Angel took in a deep breath before speaking "I know I have been busy with my work and you've been under so much pressure lately, I understand that you feel burnt out and want to take some time apart but breaking up is just overreacting to our situation!"
You felt like you'd want to roll your eyes so hard that they'd come out of the other side of your head, they didn't want to understand, they didn't take no by its literal meaning. You sighed, rubbing your eyes, if it was with someone else you'd feel thrilled that someone was so understanding and considerate, so hell-bent on keeping you by their side but this wasn't that, you felt like you were suffocating under the pressure. Your phone rang, making you flinch, as you looked down at its screen you let out a scoff, it was another call from another unknown number, how your phone number had ended up on the internet for people to bully, you didn't know. You were sick of this, sick of life itself!
No job, no house, your own family hated you for just existing after fabricated evidence of your various offenses had been published, you couldn't hurt a fly, and yet you have assaulted an old lady...sexually?!?! Angel touched your arm to pull you out of your thoughts but then you slapped their hand away. standing up, you didn't even turn to look back at them for the last time, ignoring their pleas "Y/N, you're being ridiculous please stay-" Angel paused as Bruce talked "Let them leave darling..." you rolled your eyes once more before walking away, not looking back to see the smirk on Bruce's face as he held his child
down by their shoulders on their seat; stopping them from following you.
You didn't know why all of this had happened, you didn't know that it was all because of Bruce Wayne, the bastard himself. He had paid people to tarnish your image, ruin your livelihood, and push you into depression so you'd let go of his child, you were never perfect for his Angel, his Angel deserved someone so much better than you. Barging out of the Manor you walked your way outside the yard and the gates, of course, you didn't have the money to pay for a taxi, so you started a walk into the night, too frustrated and angry to think of your safety.
Before you could figure out where you were heading you found yourself in front of the drugstore your mother used to take you to, the cashier was still the same old lady with those large eyeglasses. Without thinking you headed into the store, perhaps some nostalgia would help? The smell of lavender filled your nostrils, you walked to the second isle to avoid eye contact with the cashier, sighing as you looked at the different things for sale, until your eyes landed on the familiar brown bottle, something that your mother used to call her little helpers...Xanax.
You reached out for the bottle and looked at it, whenever your mother took one of these everything seemed better since she'd end up more relaxed, perhaps if you were to take some you'd feel better too? But you didn't have the money to buy it, and clearly, you didn't want to embarrass yourself by asking to borrow it, so you looked around, and since the only camera in the old store was way away from you, you quickly put the bottle in your pocket, walking out of the store as if nothing had happened, you'd finally have some resemblance of relaxation soon.
....
Angel's cries echoed in the Manor as they banged their fists on the door, pleading for their father to be let out, they had to see you, they had to touch your body, even if it meant it was cold already. Bruce closed his eyes, leaning to the door of their room as he tried to think of something else, something other the fact that your suicide had ended up messing his child so much that they had gotten into a maniac episode. Dick had found your body in the car, motionless with the empty bottle of pills, you had given up on everything.
But what bothered Bruce was not your death or Angel's distress, it was the fact that he felt...pain. surely it wasn't because he deep down had softened up a little for you, right? He had told himself those lies for about a week, and it was driving him mad, he had to do something about it to save both his sanity and Angel's, and he'd do anything in his power to make things right.
#yandere#yandere batman#yandere dc#yandere x reader#yandere jason todd#yandere batfamily#yandere dick grayson#yandere tim drake#yandere bruce wayne#yandere bat family#yandere red robin#yandere red hood#yandere robin#yandere damian wayne
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ZOSAN FIC REC
Here is some of my fave zosan fics. Some of these I read years ago and so I don't fully remember what theyre about but they we're good enough that I still have strong emotional attachments when I see the name. Most of them are things I've read recently. Literally all I do all day is homework and have an app tts fanfics to me like an audio book so there's quite a few of recs here. I am not the best at summeries but just trust me bro these are GOOD SHIT. I only provide the best.
What I consider a good fic:
- Takes place in the one piece world (I don't like modern aus)
- Characters stay in character or if they do have changes from their canon portrayal there is a justifiable reason from within the story.
- Solid story telling and arcs (even the shorter fics)
- The Zosan dynamic is kept mostly how it is in canon they fight and bicker. (I know some like when they're soft with eachother like a loving married couple. You won't find much of that here)
- Some of these have pervy sanji, que nose bleeds and ogling.
With that out of the way here's the list!!
Now to my fave zosan fic of all time and ironically enough the only fic taking place in a modern setting:
Life is fine series. TW: Drug abuse, heavy angst, depression
I have reread this twice and forced a friend to read it too. It is so amazing not just for the zosan but for the genuinely good story telling. You follow zoro reeling from his sudden loss of relationship with Sanji and falling down a...Well uh, path. It's fucked it's dark it's depressing and its fucking riviting. Alot of the time reading this you're just like WHY DID SANJI LEAVE HIM WHAT IS GOING ON??? Honestly I need to reread this again.
Onto softer fics to heal your heart after that one:
Honor in limits, his strengths in weakness By Hawksbrood
“Fucking hell cook, what happened to you?” Zoro demanded, voice low so as not to disturb the others sleeping nearby.
Sanji rolled his eyes. “What do you think? I told you we got in a fight earlier.”
“Not that, your fucking feet!”
The cook snarled at that, crushing his cigarette in his teeth. “What the fuck do you mean, my feet? They’re just feet!”
Zoro’s eyes widened, looking at the bruised flesh before him. This wasn’t that.
This was just so good and cute. I appreciate watching zoro appreciate sanji. They take care of eachother but in a way where theyre both still them yeah know? I appreciate how sanji is written letting himself be vulnerable but understanding that he's always gonna be crass cause it's just a part of who he is.
come on, come on (turn a little faster) by donutsandcoffee
The one where everyone thinks they’re dating, Sanji is oblivious, and Zoro takes everything in stride.
Sometimes a love story can go in reverse.
I reread this one recently and it's just soft and sweet. I like watching sanji flounder around. The gay panic is great.
a complete guide to falling in love by ThousandSunny
Sanji was trained in the Bridal Arts; this does not go unnoticed by the rest of his crew.
I read this like 3 years ago and I dont remember much but I do remember loving it!
Part Timer By 8ball
Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together.
Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways.
I am sure everyone knows 8ball very well they're like zosan famous but still just in case this one is really fucking good. Also read this 3 years ago so I don't remember much but I consider this a zosan classic.
Onto the rated R
Grand Buffet by asyndese
Drunk fic!!
If there was one thing Zoro knew, it was that you could always trust Sanji's inclinations to do a beautiful 180 as soon as he was drunk. Luckily, Zoro was more than equipped to handle it.
I spent. 30 minutes. Trying to find this fic again because that's how much I loved it. It altered my brain chemistry. Sanji getting a nose job during sex is just. aaaaaaaaa. Read it. Cannot suggest enough.
Horrors not yet known by Trixree
Sanji doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, is the thing. Of all the times he has seen Zoro shirtless (in battle, mostly) he just… never noticed. The problem is, once he has noticed, Sanji can’t seem to stop noticing. And neither can anyone else.
In which Zoro has a nipple piercing and Sanji has a Problem.
I recently reread this and the first time I read it I didn't really get the whole gender sanji shit. Now though???? Yeah another fic that rewired my brain chemistry. This fic opened doors for me it exposed me to a new world. Also sanji gay panic is in here and I live for that. It can be pretty raunchy (love that too)
Three rounds with a tiger by KobochaKitsune
Another drunk Fic!! also in modern times damn maybe I lied sdklfj
Liquid courage, drunken decisions, terrible euphemisms, and texts from last night, or: how to think entirely with the booze (and your dick) for once.
Or: By the time Sanji got to the party, everyone was already drunk.
I read this 3 years ago (theres a trend going on can you tell??) It also rewired my brain chemistry (from this point on just assume all of these nsfw fics rewired my brain chemistry each of these opened doors for me. This one opened the doors to bottom zoro.) Fucking 20k words of just pwp. I dont even know how the author did that bro like damn.
Nature of things by stark_black
Tw: Sex work and prostitutes
When the Sunny docks, Sanji and Zoro sometimes seek out relief in some not so savory places. After crossing paths in town on more than one occasion, the two find they have a lot more in common than they would like to admit.
I hunted this down for like fucking hours a couple of weeks ago because it was that good. Stark_Black has a fucking library worth of zosan fics this one is a classic to me. But if you want more content check out his other fics I think they have like over 100 zosan its kinda insane.
Coregasm by Yakarmi
Sanji discovers that sometimes, Zoro has orgasms while he lifts.
-----
“You…” Sanji trailed off, gaze turning down as he licked his lips. Pink tongue darting out nervously. “You orgasm when you exercise?”
Zoro clenched his jaw. Shrugged. Trying to act nonchalant.
“Sometimes.”
Sanji’s eye went wide, and like his mouth had suddenly been liberated from his brain, blurted out, “that’s so fucking hot,” before clamping his hands over his mouth. His cigarette fell from his mouth, bouncing soundlessly on the ground.
Bro bestie, the way this put me on nose bleed Sanji. Perv sanji. I need that gif thats like mmm cause man this is good.
Ending this fic rec with a BANG we have
Contingencies and Congruencies by PeaceSignDisasterBi
Somewhere between finishing the bottles of alcohol and mugs of beer, the crew comes together to create a contingency plan for something that may-or-may-not-happen during their time on the Grand Line and beyond. Usopp thinks it's more likely than bumping into zombies, Zoro wants to stay out of this, Sanji is just going with the flow, and Nami may or may not keep things legally binding and above board with consistent consensual acquiescence. Robin finds it all amusing.
The damn chart stays in the locked drawer in her desk, split into three neat categories: Devil Fruit Powers, Science, and Magic. Each represents whatever they're hit with but also categorizes the amount of self-control the person has during.
AKA: 5 times Zoro and Sanji had to help each other as Consensual Helpers of Dubious Consent + 1 Time There Was Nothing Dubious At All
Ok this is 152k long its pretty insane. It regoes over the arcs so throughly so carefully that I literally had to question my memory because I havent experienced alot of these arcs in a while (it's one of the reasons im rewatching one piece). I will say despite how amazing and well written this is I had a hard time comprehending sometimes. now I was sick at the time of reading this so that might be why but sometimes the way things were phrased felt like yoda talking. I think it's just me though. I'm not used to big words :(
And thats a wrap!! These arent even all the ones I wanted to include I have at least 20 more off the top of my head but I'll save that for another day. I hope you find joy in these fics Like i did I'll def do another one of these as cause I didnt even touch my sanji centric fics or germa 66 or just in general the best sanji fanfic writers. (Mentioned some of them like 8ball, thousand sunny and donuts and coffee.) Best of luck to yall and let me know what you think!
#one piece#sanji#black leg sanji#one piece sanji#vinsmoke sanji#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro#zoro#zosan#one piece zosan#op zosan#zosan fanfic#zosan fic#zosan fic rec#fic rec#one piece fic recs#sanji fic rec#zoro fic rec#8 ball#donutsandcoffee#thanks for stopping by!
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in the dark.
pairing: minho x reader
genre/warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, crying, mention of blood, mention of animal abuse, not very edited lol
word count: 0.6k
note: oh i've had the idea for a scene like this for a whiiiile now and i was hella motivated to finally write it after watching skzflix 😂 (twas supposed to be used for a jk fic but oh well, sorry jungoo)
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
"It was stupid of you."
"Okay."
"And reckless."
"Okay."
"And dangerous."
"Okay."
"And stupid. Did I already mention that? Because it was fucking stupid."
"Oka-"
"Fuck!" you snap. "Why do you keep saying that? Is it the only word in your vocabulary?"
Minho shrugs defeatedly, like none of this matters to him, but his guilty eyes tell you otherwise. He purses his lips for a second, before he tells you, "What else am I supposed to say?"
"Say you're sorry? Say you'll stop doing it? Say you won't put me through this again?"
He stays quiet, and to be honest, you expected him to. He's too stubborn for his own good and he's too good for his own sake. He's got the kindest heart you know, and you will always love him for it, but...
It's hard to make peace with it when he shows up at your doorstep every few weeks with bruises all over, like an abandoned dog asking you to take him in and put him back together.
It's hard to keep track of all the reasons he tells you to justify his borderline foolhardy actions. The last time it happened, it was because he ran into some psycho abusing the stray cats near his neighborhood. Tonight, it was because he saw someone get mugged on the street.
It's even harder to be okay with the fact that he's infinitely selfless and kind because you love your friend.
You love your friend.
You heave a sigh, going back to the task at hand because you know there's no convincing Minho otherwise. Sometimes, you wish he'd think of himself, that he'd put himself over others. Sometimes, you wish he'd think about you.
You asked him about it once, why he kept showing up to yours instead of going to a hospital. Instead of going home.
He only replied, simple and earnest, "I just want to be here with you."
You soak a cotton swab in rubbing alcohol before you press it gently against the cut on his cheek, wincing when he does. Then you move to the cut on the bridge of his nose, the one on his jawline, the one on the corner of his mouth...
You don't meet his eyes, but you feel his steady gaze on you the entire time you tend to his wounds. You're aware of how your hands are shaking, the way every breath you exhale is trembling, and that there are tears ready to overflow any second now.
The first one spills as you work on cleaning the blood off the corner of his mouth.
Then, suddenly, the cotton swab is no longer in your hand. Minho carelessly flings it elsewhere, and before you can scold him for interrupting you, his palms are on your face, delicate fingers cradling your jaw.
You blink. Just a split second, and his lips are on yours.
He's soft, and warm, and sweet, despite the bitterness that's been on your tongue the entire night. You love him. You do.
And he kisses you like he loves you too, tenderly and wholeheartedly.
You want to keep him with you forever, to never let him go, to not have to see him get hurt ever again. You don't think it's possible for you to endure it anymore, now that you know how it feels to have him like this.
When he pulls away, you're dazed. Rightfully so.
Minho doesn't stray from you for too long. He lets you catch your breath before he's leaning in once more.
Another kiss. Three seconds.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles against your lips, his tone so painfully sincere.
Another kiss. Four seconds.
"I'll stop doing it."
Then another one. Five seconds.
"I won't put you through this again."
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 03.11.2023]
#stray kids fic#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#skz fic#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz x you#lee know fluff#lee know angst#lee know scenarios#lee know x reader#lee know imagines#lee know x you#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#stray kids#skz#lee know#lee minho
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