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yyokkki · 3 months

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The Prefect's Laugh

Dropping this monstrosity i wrote in September 2023 because I feel like I'm never going to leave this fandom.

First Years x gn! Prefect

Warning: I haven't played chapter 7, Prefect has a distinct personality so it doesn't really count as x reader but some people could find them relatable, a jumble of canon and non-canon events, mild cursing?

Divider by @saradika

It wasn’t that the Prefect never smiled. In fact, they may have smiled a little too often. It could be as simple as a wordless greeting or as complex as a way to cope with fear, but there was one particular expression the first years saw only once in a blue moon. The smile that comes alongside a fit of laughter.

The first time Ace saw the infamous Ramshackle Prefect smile like that was not too long after they had first met. It was a day or two after Heartslabyul’s housewarden overblotted and they’d finally gotten the rose garden in order.

While chatting about that day’s happenings, a rather embarrassing detail was brought up (embarrassing to Ace at least).

“Can we, like, NOT talk about this anymore??”

“I mean, the housewarden was really going in on you and you just stood there and took it but as soon as he said those things about the Prefect’s parents you didn’t even hold back. It’s weirdly sweet of him, right?”

Deuce looked towards the Prefect for their input to which they replied by fervently nodding their head.

“Wow, who could’ve guessed that maybe THE Ace Trappola cares about his friends??”

“…Honestly would’ve believed you more if you said you did it just to prove you could.”

“Pfft-“

Ace’s head whipped to the side, and he stared at the blooming smile on the Prefect’s face. Crinkled eyes, a hand in front of their mouth and slightly flushed cheeks as they tried to hold in their chuckles.

He wanted to make a snarky comment, something like, ‘I’ve been trying to make you laugh for the past two weeks and THIS Is what makes you break?’

Instead, what came out of his mouth was… Silence.

Maybe the new expression was too shocking as he just stared, five parts confusion, three parts embarrassment, two parts bashfulness. The most he could get out of them even with the most well-crafted jokes were slight smirks and yet something Deuce said without even intending to be funny made them crack.

He felt wronged.

And flustered.

…Shit, why are they kinda cute.

Going back to before the overblot, a day that Deuce personally considers more traumatising than his own housewarden’s mental breakdown.

Sorrowfully gazing upon the carnage of eggshells, whites and yolks jumbled up in the plastic bag branded with the words, Mr. S’ Mystery Shop, Deuce gave out another wistful sigh.

“I just hope those chicks can rest in peace.”

“…You know those eggs don't hatch into chickens, right?”

Shocked, flabbergasted, gobsmacked, stunned, stupefied, bowled-over; all words that could be used to describe Deuce Spade’s current state of mind.

“Wh- WHAT??? YOU’RE KIDDING.”

While Deuce was having an epiphany about the eggshell-shocking revelation, he noticed the Prefect’s slightly hunched over back and trembling frame. He was about to go comfort them when he saw their face…

And heard their laughter, ringing out like the sound of wind chimes swaying with the summer breeze, despite it being mid-September.

“YOU’RE LAUGHING???”

He looked at them with five parts feelings of betrayal, three parts despair and two parts anger. He was so offended that he immediately stormed off with the grocery bags in hand, huffing and puffing as he went on his unmerry way.

It wasn’t until later that the Prefect started feeling guilty about their reaction to the incident. It kind of felt like telling a little kid Santa wasn’t real…

They apologised, got him a book about the evolution of egg production, hugged it out and all was forgiven.

It wasn’t until much much later that Deuce Spade realised, he had only seen the Prefect laugh a handful of times, that incident taking up one of the spaces.

It had grown to become one of his favourite sounds in the world.

Jack Howl was never one for bad jokes or witty banter. Whenever he and the Prefect stood together, besides looking like a sturdy tree next to a swaying flower, they didn’t look friendly- much less like friends.

Only the two of them understood the solidarity that came with the silence. They were each others go-to when the other first years got too rowdy.

Truly the mom and dad of the group.

They would occasionally engage in conversation. Somehow when they were together, asking about each other’s day would lead to which parts of home they missed most now that they were away or embarrassing childhood memories, they hadn’t told anyone else about.

It was on a day like any other, a long while after the deep sea overblot.

Jack and the Prefect had finally started speaking to each other comfortably, yet most of their time together was spent just existing in the same room, doing their own thing.

It wasn’t awkward, at least not to the Prefect. But they had to ask just in case.

“Hey, do you ever feel like we don’t really talk when we hang out?”

“…Well, we are at the library.”

“I mean at other places too.”

Jack looked up from his notes, glancing at the Prefect with a little apprehension tracing his features.

“Why? You find it weird?”

“No, I like it a lot, just- I’m not used to it you know? Whether it’s the friends I’ve made here or my friends from back home they’ve never been the type to let the room stay quiet for over five seconds.”

They shifted slightly to cast an inquisitive glance over at him, “I can’t tell if you mind or not.”

Against his very own will, Jack’s tail started flowing slightly. So, they like being around him?

“I feel the same as you. I like our time together.”

Realising he sounded a little too soft, he immediately started backpedalling.

“Not that that means anything. I enjoy spending time with many people, doesn’t make you special.”

After finishing his piece, Jack looked back down at his notes, playing it cool. His tail, however, betrayed his feelings.

"Pfhaha, so cute, it’s like a helicopter-“

“…”

Not knowing how to defend himself, Jack got up to sit across the Ramshackle Prefect, blocking their view of his tail but giving him the perfect angle to catch all their expressions.

…It may be a little too late for him.

It all started with a godforsaken game of PG rated chicken.

Epel Felmier didn’t know whose dumb idea it was to hold a competition like this among all the first years but damn was he killin’ it.

It was almost too easy. It made him feel conflicted. Should he be happy that he’d somehow reached the finals? Or mad that it’s all cause of his face and build?? Either way, the prize was too good to pass up so he was gonna win.

So far he’d been flyin’ through with direct eye contact and a smile or two if his opponents were tougher but the final round had been filling him with a weird sense of dread, so he decided to prepare a little somethin’ special this time.

He doubted he’d have to use it though; he didn’t think very highly of the kids at NRC in this specific department…

That being until he got a text from the organiser telling him who his opponent was, that being: the Ramshackle Prefect.

Well shit.

He knew they never judged anybody, including him, for their appearance, and he’d always appreciated them for that. But in this context, it would make ‘em a tough nut to crack.

Not even mentioning, they knew his weakness when he didn’t have theirs.

He immediately pulled down their chat and started typing ferociously.

‘you. me. ramshackle lounge. after school. please?’ And send.

Might as well get a practise round in to scope the waters.

Luckily, the Prefect considered him a friend and wasn’t overly cautious, so not long after the text was sent an ‘ok’ was promptly sent back.

As soon as school let out, Epel ran into the Prefect in the mirror chamber, and they embarked towards Ramshackle dorm together.

He’d informed them of his intentions while on the way, so they got started after arriving.

First, he tried his usual techniques despite knowing they wouldn’t work. As expected, the Prefect didn’t so much as flinch.

Then they smiled warmly at him.

“Your training has been working out really well, I can see a little more definition on your arms. How do you even do it? What you lack in a natural constitution is already being made up for by your will and perseverence! It's really rare to find people like you out there.”

Shit, a genuine compliment about his mental and physical growth! That’s critical damage, how could they be so dirty, using his weakness against him?

Well, if that’s how they’re gonna play it.

Epel held up his two hands in front of him, forming a heart with his fingers.

The Prefect looked unfazed. They just smiled at him, mockingly (Epel’s perception).

Fine. He’s been left with no choice but to pull out his secret weapon.

“I-If you were a fruit, you’d be a FINEAPPLE!” Absolutely humiliating.

But also absolutely effective.

The Prefect’s mask started cracking at its seams.

“F-fineapple? I never thought I'd ever hear you say anything like that- Pfft hehe-“

He'd won, but his face was as red as his namesake as the visage of his Prefect’s tinted cheeks and choked back giggles entered his heart.

On the day of the competition, he lost miserably. The Prefect ended up passing the prize onto him, claiming they were only participating for fun, but he wasn’t really upset.

It’s for the best that no one else sees that face anyways.

Sebek Zigvolt’s sole purpose for living is to serve his young master as a reliable retainer.

In order to be reliable, he must excel in both academics and athletics. Athletics weren’t worth mentioning and he found all academic subjects easy enough.

All except for art, that is.

Making use of a medium to place your creative vision onto a surface sounded simple, yet the product had never lived up to his expectations, creating a habit of casting fire spells to burn the causes of his shame.

After yet another round of sweeping up the ashes of a canvas, he’d decided enough was enough. As unbecoming as it was, a good retainer would ask for help when he really needed it.

And he really really needed it.

His next course of action was to head over to the staff room and inquire with the Art professor for private lessons, only to be told that she had no empty slots in her schedule.

“If you don’t mind learning from another student, I recommend asking the Ramshackle Prefect to tutor you. They’re one of the best among their peers and I’ve seen them offering help to other students during my classes so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

That magicless human? He’d only ever spoken two or three sentences to them, and he couldn’t stand the uncouth beast following them around every hour of the day, but if they truly were one of the best…

Thus started a deal he would come to regret in the future.

The Prefect wasn’t a bad teacher. They’d gotten him to start on the basics before even thinking of the elaborate portraits he’d always been hellbent on doing.

Once he’d finally grasped the techniques needed, he immediately jumped onto the opportunity to paint his young master, using one of his sacred wallet sized photos as reference. The Prefect stood beside him the whole time, pointing out mistakes and fixing any parts he deemed unsatisfactory.

The only qualm he had was that they’d protested to his idea to paint a wall sized mural, stating that it was too advanced.

With a beautiful portrait in tow, he returned and hung it up near his shrine. It couldn’t compare to his young master’s radiance but it had been the best thing he’d ever painted and he was felling pleased with himself.

An idea came over him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this without their help after all…

And that was what led to him showing up at Ramshackle outside of lesson hours with a small canvas nervously clenched in his hands.

“Human. It didn’t turn out as well without your guidance, but this is a little token of appreciation for your help these past few weeks.” He pushed the portrait into the Prefects hands, ready to accept criticism.

“…”

“Human..?”

“…Pffhehe-, I never expected you to do something so heartfelt for a ‘dumb human’. Heh, I guess I really grew on you!”

“Why are you laughing?! ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME??”

If he had his sword on him he would be unsheathing it right now.

“No, no, thanks man, I love it.”

The brightest and most genuine smile he’d ever seen from them blossomed.

He felt his face burn and his heartbeat rise to an abnormal degree as the Prefect’s warm gaze felt as though it were boring into him.

…I must inquire with Master Lilia what hex this human has placed upon me. Right this instant!

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catgriffin · 3 months

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I've heard a couple people argue against radioapple because it's mainly just sexualizing the two. While that is true for most of it. That doesn't mean it has to be. Because listen:

What if, in the final battle, Lucifer is taking on an entire army of angels for the sake of his kingdom, his daughter, and his new friends. Alastor watches helplessly as Lucifer had ordered him to stand by, because even Alastor would surely be killed. He watches as Lucifer is cutting down angels, they're dropping like birds shot out of the sky. Even so, their numbers become overwhelming and difficult to manage. Alastor, realizing the danger Lucifer's in, for the first time, feels concern.

Lucifer finally starts taking damage, the angels swarming him. Alastor's feet move before his brain has time to process what he's doing. Inky, black tentacles launch him into the sky, back to back with Lucifer, he uses shadows as a shield to protect Lucifer from an angelic spear headed straight for his heart. Why is he protecting him?

Alastor, one of the most feared overlords, a serial killer and cannibal, narcissistic, psychopathic, heartless, evil... finally started caring about someone else more than himself. Respect, strength and fame means nothing in that moment. Just that the first person he's ever loved is safe.

What if Lucifer's light finally chases away Alastor's dark thoughts, tendencies, and insecurities? White light that burns away the shadows. Lucifer holding Alastor in his weakest moment. Reassuring him it's okay.

What if Lucifer is the one that takes Alastor down from his high horse and helps him through his inevitable breakdown? What if Lucifer helps him break his deal? Lucifer, fighting to save Alastor and telling him it's okay to not be at the top.

What if Alastor helps Lucifer out of his depression, teach him how to move on from what I'm suspecting was bad past relationships? They get over their dad rivalry and work together to protect and teach Charlie.

Their relationship doesn't need to be sex, it's just love and care, something I think they could both benefit from. I think Lucifer is autistic and speaking as an autistic person quite a few of us are somewhere on the ace spectrum, I really don't think asexual alastor would be any kind of issue for Lucifer.

(Edit)HAVING SAID ALL THAT I think radioapple might be better as just fan art and such because although I'm not aroace myself I can understand wanting the representation because it's true there doesn't seem to be much of it out there. If it were to become canon I think it's safe to say a lot of people would be upset.

#radioapple #appleradio #duckiedeer #alastor

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confused-pyramid · 2 years

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Derailed

pairing: tangerine x assassin!fem!reader

summary: When Tangerine spots you in the middle of his mission on a bullet train, he gets entangled in your plans and loses track of his own...

word count: 2.8k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, slight marking, dirty talk, canon!typical violence, drinking

"Got it, sir," you say before hanging up the phone and stepping onto the train. This was your first mission since you left the White Death's payroll and you had to prove yourself to your superiors if you wanted to rebuild your reputation.

You have no idea what is waiting for you on this train, but you can imagine a mission as straightforward as retrieving a briefcase will be anything but simple.

Straightening your bartender uniform, you push through the throngs of people exiting the train and strut down the aisles as you search for the package you were assigned to find.

***

"Enough with the Thomas the train shit," Tangerine groans to Lemon as the bullet train finally leaves the station. "I don't give a flying fuck if you think I'm a Thomas or Diesel or whatever."

"Well, first of all," Lemon interjects, lifting a finger, "it's Thomas the Tank Engine. And second of all, I never said you were a Diesel. I made that very cle-"

Tangerine stops listening when he notices your figure pass them down the aisle, your gait tantalizingly familiar.

What the fuck are you doing here? he thinks before standing up abruptly.

"Lemon, hold that thought."

Tangerine grabs the briefcase and slowly follows you down the aisle, making sure to keep a safe distance so as not to alert you of his presence. He's skirting around the other passengers trying to put their luggage away, and he's about to catch up with you when a person in a large Momomon costume steps in front of him.

"Get the fuck out of my way," he grunts irritatedly, shoving the figure into one of the seats, before noticing all the children around him. "Apologies for my language."

He leaves them with a small wave, but it's only then that he notices you are missing.

"Fuck!" Tangerine exclaims again, kicking the seat next to him. He doesn't waste any more time and rushes down the aisle, waiting as the sliding doors take their time to open in front of him.

When the door finally slides open, he steps into the corridor, only to feel a lithe hand grab the back of his neck and push him forward. He spins around, but is pushed to the floor before he can register what is happening.

The next thing he knows, he is kneeling on the ground, looking up at you, as you press a small gun to his temple.

When did you start using guns?

Tangerine immediately puts his hands up, knowing the only way to diffuse this is to play to your soft side (okay, softer side).

"Hey, hey," he urges you in a charming tone, "I just wanted to talk, sweetheart."

"Yeah?" you challenge, pressing the cold metal harder against his head. "Let's hear it then."

He runs a hand through his hair, pushing the soft curls back from his face. "It's been too long, doll. I wanted to catch up, see how you've been."

He can't imagine that any of this is working on you, but he has to try if he's going to finish this mission in one piece.

You smirk, finally taking in Tangerine's kneeling form before you. If your employer had told you that this mission would involve beautiful men on their knees, you would have signed up ages ago.

You met Tangerine six years ago at a job that ended up going completely awry...for him at least. The White Death had sent you to Japan to kidnap the son of one of the remaining Japanese crime families, and when you arrived, Tangerine and Lemon had already been walking him out the front door. They were nothing if not punctual, but back then, that was about the only thing they were good for.

Your weapon of choice had always been tranquilizer darts -- but you never said no to good ol' hand-to-hand combat -- and your lack of real weaponry eventually become a calling card of sorts. Especially because you always made it out alive, and with the job completed to perfection.

That day, Tangerine and Lemon clearly hadn't been expecting anyone, because upon spotting you, they didn't even bother to blink. You had played into their naive mindset and when you got close enough to grab the kid, they were each left with a tranq dart to the neck and a nice, long nap to recover from the shame of losing their asset.

Since then, you have been on opposite sides of many more missions, but the retrieval of this briefcase is the closest encounter you two have had in years.

In your reverie, your gun loosens in your hand and Tangerine must have noticed, because he shoots up, pushing your hand to the side and yanking his gun from his waistband. You aim your weapon at him again, and you are both left pointing your guns at each other, your grip tightening as your heart rate quickens slightly.

"Alright, darling, give me one good reason not to kill you right now?" he threatens, his jaw tightening by a fraction. "You fucked up our entire operation in Bolivia when you knocked out Lemon and got the White Death's men out before we could kill them all."

"Oh, honey, I've done much more than that," you smile, cocking your head to the side. If this was the game he wanted to play, then you would play along, but only as long as he kept it interesting.

"And as for why you shouldn't kill me," you continue, your eyes glinting with amusement. "It's because you need me."

Then, before he can react, you whack the side of his head with your gun and grab the briefcase from his hands. He grunts, clutching his temple, and you use the moment of distraction to dart out of the corridor and down the train cars, sprinting past the passengers and the angry ticket collector.

When you reach the bar compartment, you pull open a random cabinet and stuff the briefcase in a garbage can. It's not a moment too soon, because a second later, Tangerine bursts through the doors, his chest heaving and expression getting more agitated by the minute.

Reaching down, you grab a cocktail shaker and pour in the ingredients laid out on the counter, preparing a drink for yourselves.

"Where the hell is it?" he demands, stalking towards you.

You shrug, fighting the curve of your lips. "You'll get it when I've gotten what I need from you."

Your gun is sitting idly on the counter, so he tucks his own into his waistband and shrugs off his suit jacket, tossing it to the side. He starts to roll back his sleeves and you lick your lips as you shake the cocktail.

If nothing else went right on this mission, at least you'd be getting some eye candy for the evening.

Along with all of the times you've screwed up his missions, there have also been a multitude of other close encounters. Whether it was his hand around your throat as you stole his asset right from under him, or his breath against your neck as he snuck up behind you during a stake-out, his presence always entranced you.

Tangerine's seemingly magnetic hold on you has never escaped your notice, but it has also never gotten in the way of you finishing your jobs.

He sees the glint in your eyes, but doesn't say anything, deciding to use it to his advantage.

"Come on, sweetheart," he smiles sweetly, placing his rough hands on the counter in front of you. "Where is the briefcase?"

"Why do you need the case anyway?" you ask him, your eyes imploring his with something akin to genuine curiosity.

"It's the ransom money for the Son of the White Death," he responds honestly, watching your movements carefully as you grab glasses from below the counter.

You seem to ponder this. "Intriguing. On a separate note, how is Lemon these days? I heard they're calling you two the fruit twins now."

Tangerine rolls his eyes, his hands slamming down on the counter as he loses his patience. "He's fucking fantastic. Now where is the case, y/n?"

You don't respond, and instead pour out two drinks before sliding one towards him.

He doesn't bring his lips to the glass until you gulp down your whole drink and even then, he only takes a few sips.

He sees you watch his throat bob and he feels an unfamiliar pleasure at the thought of you finding him attractive.

"Look, Tangerine," you say with a resigned sigh, "I'm not working for the White Death anymore, but I still would like that briefcase. You know, for leverage."

He's not sure how to respond but then you start unbuttoning your blouse and, even after that drink, he feels his mouth go dry. His mind goes blank and he can't formulate any thoughts as your long, smooth neck becomes visible. Only when the first few buttons pop open does he realize that you're showing him your bullet proof vest.

Running a hand down your padded chest, you shoot him an amused look. "In case you try anything stupid." You pause, your hand sliding down your thigh. "Besides, if I remember correctly, you never liked these anyway, did you?"

This time, he anticipates your movements, and when a knife goes flying out of your hand, straight towards his chest, he manages to dodge at the last second, watching as it sinks into the hard back wall of the compartment.

When he turns back around, you're gone.

***

That was a lot closer than you would have liked, and you slink down the train cars, gripping the handle of the briefcase between your fingers.

It feels like everyone's eyes are on you as you walk down the aisle, slipping past the economy cars. When you reach the first class car, you stash the briefcase in the luggage compartment and are about to wait for the next stop to arrive when a man in a white suit takes a seat across from you.

"Can I help yo-" you begin before he cuts you off.

"You will pay for what you did to my family."

"Listen man, I don't know who you are," you try to tell him, but he pulls a massive knife from his belt and you know you can't just sit here any longer.

Swinging your legs out of the seat, you shove him away and grab the laptop of a sleeping woman a few seats over. Using it as a shield, you block a few of his jabs and slices before his knife finally starts to pierce through the metal and glass.

Chucking the laptop at him, you run in the opposite direction, back towards the briefcase, but he's right on your tail.

You push your way into the corridor, but the man grabs you from behind, shoving you forward and slicing down with his knife. The edge grazes your bicep and you wince, but right before you can brace yourself for the next swing, a gunshot rings out from behind you and the man falls to the floor, a shocked look plastered on his face as the life leaves his eyes.

You immediately jerk your head back to see who your savior is, and you admit that you're surprised to see Tangerine lowering his gun.

"Thanks," you gasp out, not wanting to waste another moment. He's tucking his pistol away when you reach towards the luggage to grab the case, but he sees your intentions and acts quickly.

His corded bicep locks around your neck from behind, pulling you back with an extraordinary strength that has you flying off the ground.

You gasp, struggling to breathe, but then you manage to lift your legs and kick out at the wall, pushing the both of you back. His grip loosens slightly, but it's just enough for you to spin around, sending him a kick to the shin that makes him grunt.

Tangerine strikes out at you, his fist narrowly missing your jaw, and you knee him in the groan, making him double over in pain for a few moments.

"That was low," he groans, his face turning red, "even for you, doll."

You chuckle, backing up. "It's a man's world, Tan."

Nevertheless, he's stronger than you remember and he recovers quickly, locking his forearm against your neck and pushing you back into the bathroom. You press up against the wall, facing him, and you can't help the smirk that reappears on your lips.

Well, this is certainly interesting.

"You're better," you huff, your voice straining from the weight of his arm, "than Bolivia, I mean."

You dig your fingers into his hard muscles, trying to pry him off. "You two were absolutely miserable back then, but you've got some chops now."

Tangerine smirks, leaning forward so his breath tickles your nose. "You haven't seen the half of it, darling."

Your eyes dart down to his mouth for a split second, but he's just as fast and he notices your hitched breath. His eyes darken immediately, and before you can utter a word, his mouth is on yours.

His arm lets you go and his large hands grasp at your waist as you press into him, clinging to his body for support in the small bathroom.

His calloused fingers on your skin send a shot of heat down to your core and you bite his lip harshly. He pulls back for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise and lust, and you notice the drop of blood a second before he wipes it away.

Your lips crash together again and he doesn't take his time while grabbing your loosely hanging hair and tugging back, exposing your neck to him. Tangerine licks a line up the column of your throat and your fingers split open his vest and button-down in one go, sending the buttons flying to the floor.

You gasp when he tears off the velcro of your bullet proof best, chucking it to the floor, before kicking the bathroom door closed with a loud click.

Thankfully, your skirt provides him easy access, and he doesn't hesitate before yanking your panties to the side and sticking a thick finger into your pussy. You cry out, your head falling back against the small mirror as he hoists you up onto the sink.

He doesn't warn you before adding another finger, his quick pumps hitting the walls of your cunt with a harsh precision that has you getting close embarrassingly fast.

"Look at you," he smirks, watching your eyes roll back, "whimpering like a school girl from just my fingers."

You are about to finish, and he must feel the tightening of your core, because he pulls away, leaving you impatient and unsatisfied.

"Bastard," you groan as he chuckles, bringing his fingers up to your lips.

You suck them into your mouth, and he almost moans at the feeling of your hot tongue around him. When they're clean, he pulls his fingers from your mouth with a pop and reaches down to undo his buckle.

Tangerine pushes his trousers down to his knees and angles you back before sheathing himself fully inside of you in one movement.

He groans from the wet heat of your cunt and the tightness of you squeezing around him has him gripping the counter for support. He doesn't wait before thrusting up into you at the pace of a bullet train, his rhythm never faltering even as your head falls back in pleasure.

Tangerine leans down and sucks a bruise into your neck, enjoying the way the purple and red blossom against your skin in a delicious mark.

You start to tighten around him and he knows his release is imminent, so he lifts you up off his cock and turns you around so your elbows are on the counter. He starts to fuck you from behind, one hand on your waist while the other grips the back of your neck, holding you to him.

You arch your back, changing the angle in a way that has both of you moaning with pleasure. You come apart a moment later, and he follows close behind, relishing the sound of your whimpering as his body slowly relaxes.

He pulls away from you, grabbing a paper towel to clean you both up, when he hears a light hiss from the ceiling.

He looks up to see a thin green snake slithering down from the vent, its teeth bared and ready. Both of you shriek as the snake shoots down toward Tangerine. He smacks it away and into the toilet, but not before it takes a sharp bite out of his shoulder.

His vision starts to blur and you grab his arms, leaning him back against the counter before you move to open the door.

"Please tell me you spiked those drinks from earlier with the antidote," he groans, his face growing hotter as the venom spreads through his system.

"Well," you whisper, your voice fading as he loses consciousness, "I guess today was your lucky day."

#bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine smut #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #assassin!reader #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson x reader #fanfic #aaron taylor johnson fanfic

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weeb-polls-with-pip · 2 months

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Autistic Anime Boys Round 5 Match 4

Propaganda:

Goku -

"Has a special interest in fighting that he dedicated his entire life to. And he tends to try to solve problems only through that special interest, even though easier alternatives exist in-universe

Is very oblivious of social convention and has trouble relating and understanding others (especially as a child)

Has a very strong sense of justice

Has a very "black and white" view of morality. Someone is either a good guy or a bad guy, again this is especially true when he was a child. To be clear, he still understands that someone good can do bad things and vice-versa, and also that a bad person can become a good one. But he still doesn't really take into account that there's also a "grey" area of morality

Likes to stim :]

Always wear his gi when possible

Is very cool, and really, isn't it enough for him to be claimed by the autistic community?"

Gin -

"Gin carries around a stuffed animal cusion called Mew-chan, he often ends his sentences in meow or woof. He canonically has autism in the game. "I don't really get all the details, but… I have this sorta condition called autism, meow… […] If I don't wear this… I feel really embarrassed. I get nervous, woof… I know it's weird, meow…" Quote by Gin. He gets counseling in school for his autism and he wants to work with animals. He gets attached to people easily, he calls the main character 'Big Sis Sara,' he gives nicknames to most of the people in the game. He always does his best to help out everyone else."

#tumblr polls #autistic anime boys poll #original poll #goku #son goku #db #dbs #dbz #dragon ball #dragon ball super #dragon ball z #goku dragon ball #yttd #your turn to die #gin ibushi #ibushi gin #kimi ga shine

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cherriesxinthespring · 2 months

Text

WASTELAND, BABY!– ellie williams x reader

hi! I'm writing a new series that happens after the events of TLOU II. it's an enemies to lovers. A story about ellie eventually finding happiness and love again. She finds her light; and so do you.

Before you read the summary– please read this. Free Palestine. Do not consume tlou fanfics without educating yourself about its zionist themes.

this story is only posted on ao3. read it here.

*SUMMARY: You had decided to give life one last try. That was it. After the events in The Last of Us Part II, Ellie decides that the only way to find peace is to turn herself in to the fireflies. She finds a lead; they tell her to find you, a young woman who wanders around with no purpose. When she eventually does, you refuse to tell her where the fireflies are; if she finds them, everything that you did in your past would've been for nothing.

You embark on a journey together, walking through rain, snow and through the darkest places this cruel world has to offer. What neither of you expect, broken and traumatized, is to find the light again in each other.

"For the world is Hell, and people are on the one hand the tormented souls and on other the devils in it." (Schopenhauer, On the suffering of the world)

LINKS: read it here. playlist.

C.W/GENERAL TAGS: enemies to lovers, AFAB reader, eventual smut, gun violence, ellie kinda kidnaps you?, suicidal ideation (both ellie and reader), r! is wounded, PTSD and trauma, triggering flashbacks. canon violence in the game, depression. overall heavy themes, but happy ending i promise!

CHAPTER 1: One last try. You encounter Ellie. She follows the trail of blood you were leaving. You refuse to give her the information she wants. So, she drags you through the entire state of Montana. "You’re bold for someone unarmed and bruised, with a gun pointed to their head"

CHAPTER 2: Courage, dear heart. A small flame inside you ignites. you finally have a purpose; to mislead her, and to escape from her. You come up with a plan, and that involves earning her trust. just enough until she becomes sloppy. But you can't let her see your skills; she might see you as a threat. That plan quickly goes to waste when you encounter a large group of clickers.

“I could kill you right now,” she said, holding your own knife against your throat. Her knuckles were white from how much force she was using. Her features were almost unrecognisable. “Then you’d break your promise,” you said. “Promises mean nothing in this world.”

CHAPTER 3: No one left to sing to The rain doesn't stop, so you and this strange girl are forced to stay inside the cave. You're feverish, disoriented. After a conversation in which she mentions the fireflies, you decide to go through her journal to find answers. And you do.

"Are you a firefly?" she asked, like she had just read your mind, or you were thinking out loud. “not a firefly,” you said. you held back a laugh, but she saw the flash of a smirk. You, the reason why they were gone after Salt Lake City, a firefly. “Definitely not.” you paused. “are you?” you asked. “No.”

CHAPTER 4– Your blinding light (flashback chapter)

Summer 2033, Boston QZ You waited for Hannah to come to you. Life in the QZ was simple for you; being confined in between four walls, listening to your mom's Beatles cassettes, and sneaking out past curfew. That is, until your mom slowly starts abandoning you. "Maybe Hannah was the only one you had, after all"

CHAPTER 5– This darkness i'm condemned to

Ellie and you finally reach the nearest town. And your plan is successful; you finally lead her to danger. What you failed to account for is that this danger can harm you, too.

“took them out right?" you said, trying to test the waters. Trying to sound lighthearted, but failing completely at it. "Damn right you did," she said.

CHAPTER 6– The injury of finally knowing

taglist: since i impulsively deleted my old account, i'm tagging my old taglist. it's still me! the bitch that wrote the abby greys anatomy AU! you can still join my taglist here

@kissesskittens @zahraaziza @uraesthete @elsvrse @lonelyfooryouonly @ximtiredx @ellabsprincess @spaceshipellie @machetegirl109 @sc0ttstre3ted @taylarxse @carmellie @mayfieldsz @brooklynvwilliams @rinarchy @elliesgffr @wannabwanted @ellabsweet @sapphic-and-sappy @imyour-favouritegirl @andersonsgirl @heyabimina @novadanversss @mulan-but-gay @lez-zuha @abbys-sweat-wife @maribelo-o @peppesgirl

if your name is crossed out, it means I can't tag you– please check your settings and follow these steps!

dividers by @saradika-graphics.

#ellie williams #the last of us #tlou ellie #tlou fanfiction #tlou part 2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #the last of us part ii #enemies to lovers #canon universe #wasteland baby

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olderthannetfic · 29 days

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/746553097204203521/the-fandom-hates-women-response-to-lack-of-ff

The "fandom hates women" part of it comes from the fact that fandom as an entity just doesn't watch the kind of media that draws femslash, even if it ticks all of the boxes of things those very same people say they like. There are so many times I've watched a show that I've seen mega-popular Tumblr posts wishing existed, and then the fandom is so, so small comparatively and often in general. There have been superheroes, vampire/supernatural shows, fantasy shows, movies, books, the list goes on, that feel like they were generated out of Tumblr's desires for ideal fandom media, and everyone knows they're never going to attract anywhere near the same attention for fandom and fanworks because the common denominator just tends to be that if there isn't a full ensemble of attractive men to ship either with each other or with the women, fandom's not interested.

So it's not about prioritizing women in that sense, it's about people witnessing hypocrisy over and over again the second a show doesn't have a mostly-male ensemble. The people who are in these fandoms are frustrated that good faith attempts to get people interested are met with every excuse in the book that all eventually boils down to "I don't like watching stuff with women in it as much as I like watching stuff with men in it." And if that's how people feel about it... sometimes the conclusions are going to turn into the more uncharitable take of "fandom hates women."

Maybe, but whenever I see a "fandom hates women" reblog of my stuff, one or two reblogs further down the chain I get an overt TERF. I just had to go block several people today, in fact.

The first person to reblog with a comment like that is usually subtle, but their friends and friends of friends are not. The rhetoric that very quickly starts is the fandom equivalent of that "All the butches are becoming trans men! We're losing lesbians!" stuff.

Here's the thing: I've been in ten billion fandoms that were so awesome and fit fandom's supposed tastes to a T and yet no amount of promoting them could get anyone to try the canon. This goes for canons that are all men or all white men or all majority ethnicity men or whatever else.

The default state of media is to not engender a big fic fandom.

I agree that the rare outliers mostly follow certain patterns, but we extrapolate too far when we say that a lack of those patterns is why a fandom is small.

A fandom is small because that's the near-universal default.

Yes, a small slice of fandom consists of guilt-ridden queer fujoshi who say they want more f/f but don't make much of a move to make that happen. I tend to run into that a lot because of my own tastes and having friends who share those tastes.

Far more of fandom is people talking generally about how representation matters without saying they would personally join these fandoms if they existed.

Neither group is large enough to be the real reason some woman-heavy canon fails to take off to HP levels.

The real reason is not hypocrisy but the fact that most things don't take off like that. Most things without massive, massive audiences especially don't take off like that. And the very few things that do are flukes and don't actually predict that another similar thing will take off in the future.

Go to AO3's tag search. Search for all canonical fandom tags. Sort by uses and descending order.

Right now, I get 64,390 tags.

The first page, 50 tags, goes from HP with 497,845 works to the Thor movies with 59,266 works. By page 6, we're below 10 thousand works.

By the end of page 10, we're down to Labyrinth with 3,906.

Somewhere in the top 500 AO3 fandom tags (many of which are just franchise metatags for each other), we go all the way from megafandoms to medium size and down to relatively modest ones.

That's not a lot of room for a big f/f-heavy fandom given the trends in mainstream media and that mainstream media is where most really big fandoms come from.

I also notice that you're conflating a lack of desire to watch something that's primarily about women with a lack of desire to watch something that includes women.

There are tons of fans who want something more like The Mummy with a leading man and leading woman they love.

Granted, that's not me and that's not a lot of my fujoshi/slasher audience, but it's extraordinarily common. I know plenty of people who don't like canons that are only dudes, but since they also don't like canons that are only ladies and they don't ship f/f, this gets spun into "fandom hates women".

Let me be clear:

Conflating "lesbians" and "women" is a radfem position.

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cuethediscoandthedrinks · 1 year

Text

..couldn't help myself 🤭

tonowari x cock analysis hcs ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡☾ ﾟ｡⋆

• i canon that tonowari's actually not that long. the common assumption is that every single na'vi has a fkin horse cock mega-shlong situation, but legit wari's big dick energy isn't from the length, but rather the girth

• the girth on that thing is giant. he's definitely thicker than he is long, usually pretty thick flaccid too - although once erect, babyboy has a big-ass cock

• said cock also leads to a gorgeously bulbous tip too ofc; almost mushrooming out over the top of his shaft, his thick blue foreskin encasing that sensitive cockhead ever so gently, often glowing luminous dots littered all over his pretty ocean skin

• tonowari knows he's packin' too, bc he can feel it. doesn't matter if he's got layers or not; and being of the metkayina clan, the thickest material they sport is straight up linen-level fabric

• therefore, papa bear feels his cock all. day. long. not just the heavy shaft and rounded tip, but also his big heavy balls too. this mans has a seriously weighty set; paired with his giant toned blue thighs, he can feel the bounce and jostle of his soft sack and bulge almost constantly

• it def becomes a little uncomfortable too, hence the manspreading and squatting when he's relaxed. it often gives tonowari that much needed space to let his junk rest in one area, as opposed to being all squashed and smushed up against his upper thighs and pelvis (although ngl, keeping the soft swells all cozied up between his legs is big self-soother for him)

• but when he does let it all rest, this daddy's cock hangs too. being so heavy and thick, it's only natural for tonowari's cock to curve down, almost pulled forward and lolled back and forth by the weight of his own shaft and balls

• as he moves around, they def continue to move too; his rounded sack likely slapping against the back of his upper legs with some almost silent 'pap pap pap's--his length swaying front to back or side to side in rhythm with whichever movements he does - it's lowkey very distracting for the poor bby

• has an especially sensitive cockhead too - specifically the underside of the tip. the ridge is so chubby that as it's almost it's own surface, the sensitivity of a wet tongue or warm, clenching pussy just makes him throb and groan for you

• likewise, stimulating the back of his balls and taint are some of the quickest ways to make this bby cum hard. the first time you did it, ngl it took him by surprise; slurping up his tightened blue sack, you extending your tongue just that liiil bit further triggered one of the most intense orgasms he'd ever had;

• since then, this mans will 100% extend two of his fingers back there, pushing the skin of his heavy sack back too for the extra pleasure; just to tip him over the edge as he tugs and jerks at his big, girthy cock; eyes clenched shut in sheer anticipation and need

• has a lot of cum, too. unlike jake or quaritch, tonowari usually doesn't leak nearly as much others, but once he cums, he cums. thick, warm reams of creamy white spurts from his throbbing cockhead, usually not that far, but there's a lot of it maybe even a hyperspermia bby but u didn't hear that from me

• he cums with a lot of force, but lots of that energy is used to get such a high volume of cream from his cock in the first place; therefore it often pools or soaks whatever it's around - not so much long reams or shoots, but more heavy, hot, intense rams or thrusts to fill up your aching pussy or needy mouth

#i honestly could've written more but wanted to trial the energy #y'all enjoy this one or nah?#hope u did :):))#tonowari x ronal #tonowari x you #tonowari x reader #tonowari headcanons #tonowari smut #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #avatar x you #avatar smut #na'vi smut #na'vi x reader #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #colonel quaritch smut #miles quaritch x afab reader

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intricatedemonicrituals · 8 months

Text

Canon Destiel Timeline Masterpost

I wrote this all in a fugue state while listening to Green Grow the Lilacs on repeat so forgive any mistakes. @gay-fae ask and ye shall receive

So much has happened in the long and storied history of his fandom so I've decided to try to document it. I've started by looking up every time that canon destiel, destiel event, misha collins, jackles, or some other search terms have spiked on Google and cross referenced them with tumblr or twitter posts from that day. I know a lot of this is Misha stuff, but he does tend to be the one to say things

November 5th, 2020: Season 15, Episode 18 "Despair" airs and Castiel declares his love to Dean. The presidential election, Georgia turning blue, the presumed retirement of Vladamir Putin, Dabi from My Hero Academia, Ouran Host Club season 2, Sherlock season 5, the president of Bolivia being attacked with dynamite, ongoing BLM protests, a twitter artist making racist art of Ted Bundy, Hetalia returning, a dead man being elected Representative for North Dakota, V for Vendetta, scientists discovering a "hell" planet that rains rocks and has lava oceans, and half of Europe being in lockdown all became tumblr news around the same time. Some of these are true, some not.

November 8th, 2020: Misha Collins, in a panel with Richard Speight, states that the confession scene was a "declaration of homosexual love", and that when Castiel goes to the Empty, it is an example of the "Kill your gays" trope.

November 19th, 2020: The finale airs and it is not well loved to say the least. The episode is short, Dean dies by falling on a nail to death fighting vampire clowns, and there are several characters left with dangling unresolved plot threads and arcs, including Castiel. The car is in heaven though. There is very little heard from the cast and crew, if anything.

November 22nd, 2020: Misha Collins, in a livestream, tells a fan that Castiel and Jack are remaking heaven together, Cas has his wings back, and they are rainbow-colored. He had, however, mentioned the rainbow wings before.

November 24th, 2020: The Spanish dub of the confession is released and a "rogue" translator has written "Y yo a ti" or "I love you too" as Dean's response. Destiel goes canon in Spanish. Tumblr stops working as a result.

November 25th, 2020: tumblr user @thebloggerbloggerfun claims Jensen Ackles said "I had a member of the film crew record the confession scene on my phone for me" #unsourced #releasethetapes

November 26th, 2020: Misha doesn't appreciate the rogue translator, but walks that opinion back later the same day

November 27th, 2020: A "leaked" Italian dub of the confession scene shows a mutual confession.

November 28th, 2020: President Obama follows a destiel account on Twitter

November 30th, 2020: The supposed "Italian dub" is revealed as a fake created by user @iotiamo using sound clips from other parts of the Italian dub on show.

December 1st, 2020: Twitter user @mothdean says "misha I know you have a stan acc and spy on us so can we have a hazel update please"

December 3rd, 2020: Misha tweets about Hazel snoring and this is taken as possible confirmation of Misha's secret stan account

December 11th, 2020: A script from Cas's perspective leaks. It says "We see Cass's POV of Dean again - his face drawn, drained of hope. But still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester."

December 16th, 2020: Newsweek runs an article about an article that Misha wrote about the Lewinsky affair while interning in the Clinton White House in which Misha comes off as rather thirsty for Bill

December 20th, 2020: All Supernatural related materials disappear off the CW's website due to a copyright dispute with Warner Brothers

December 31st, 2020: Mishapocalypse redux

February 9th, 2021: Spn cast members Chad Lindberg and Samantha Ferris tweet about a party at the Roadhouse and it grows to become a full Destiel wedding

February 16th, 2021: @steveyockey made a fairly benign post about Jensen Ackles. The notes went wild in a variety of ways and started a rumor that Spn writer Steve Yockey was dead

February 20th, 2021: Steve Yockey is not dead and he should say it

March 3rd, 2021: The German dub drops and it is also romantic in tone

March 6-8th, 2021: A virtual con happens where Jensen discusses Chaos Machine and Jared says he wants to be in their next project. They also show that WAP video. Jensen is giving full mountain man preparing to play Soldier Boy.

March 10th, 2021: The French dub is released. Cas says, "I love you, Dean" and Dean now responds, "Don't do this to me, Castiel"

March 13th, 2021: The company Amazon tweets about Castiel and Misha Collins asks if they ship Deancas or Wincest. Subsequently apologizes.

March 16th, 2021: Misha says he can't speak as Castiel because Warner Brothers" specifically forbade it. #cwsniperconfirmed

March 17th, 2021: Sam and Eileen are getting married! I have no idea how this came about but I'm happy for them

March 23rd, 2021: Chad Lindberg and Samantha Ferris claim on Twitter that the Roadhouse party was about Valentine's day and not a wedding. Ferris specifically said that she worked on the show and that people tried to make Dean/Cas into "something that it wasn't", She also stated she doesn't "know what queerbaiting is" and that it was due to an "agenda". This led to #deanisbi trending on Twitter and Tumblr.

March 31st, 2021: Some possibly fake leaked scripts come up for sale on eBay. Also, Jensen is Batman.

April 1st, 2021: Mishapocalypse redux

April 6th, 2021: Leaked scripts from the 2 final episodes pop up and have several mentions of Cas in them that were omitted. Dean even thinks about Cas's confession when confronting Chuck.

April 18th, 2021: Scripts from seasons 12 and 13 leak. These include scenes from after Cas's death

May 17th, 2021: Jensen's band Radio Company releases an album including the song Watching Over Me

June ~5th, 2021: Misha says at a convention that Watching Over Me is about Castiel. Jensen neither confirms nor denies this when asked about it

June 11th, 2021: It is announced that Misha is publishing a book of poetry

June 18th, 2021: The Russian dub airs and Dean's line is changed to "Don't you dare, Cas"

June 24-28th, 2021: Jensen and Daneel Ackles reveal that they are making a Supernatural prequel series following John and Mary Winchester (a story that NOBODY was asking for). Jensen will reprise his role as Dean and will narrate. Misha hints that he would like to be involved, as do Ruthie Connell, Samantha Ferris, Matt Cohen, and Julie McNiven (the perils of having a cast of mostly immortal characters). But Jared Padalecki first says that he is happy for the Ackles's, he later said he was "gutted", then responded to Robbie Thompson's tweet calling him a "coward" and saying "what an awful thing you've done". The next day, Jensen and Jared both do damage control and say they'll always be brothers

July 17th, 2021: People are asking if Destiel will be canon in Space Jam, Misha's poetry book's cover is revealed to lukewarm reviews and people are talking about a particular poem about piss, and Perfume Genius releases an article that is a self-insert vore fanfiction about having sex with Jensen Ackles

August 2nd, 2021: Perfume Genius is at it again with "Last Friday, I had my eyes removed by Jared Padalecki". No, I do not know why she is doing this.

August 9th, 2021: Destiel fics hit 100k on Ao3. Misha tweets his support and people remember that he sometimes reads fanfiction and theorize he has an A03 account

September 1st, 2021: Misha makes his first Tiktok. There is a short intro before he calls cut, walks behind a screen, and strips his clothes off

September 3rd, 2021: Jake Abel uses Michael and Adam to help sell his hot sauce brand

September 4th, 2021: Misha confirms that the love between Castiel and Dean was "reciprocated"

September 9th, 2021: A clip of the real Italian dub of the confession scene goes viral as it is revealed that, unlike the Spanish dub, they change the line to "ti voglio bene" or essentially "I love you like family". Misha responds with a video saying "Ciao Italia, ti amo" with the subtitle "Love is love in any language"

September 21st, 2021: Misha drops the fact that one of his poems is from Castiel's perspective.

September 30th, 2021: Jensen will be appearing at a con on the same day as Misha and not with Jared for "professional reasons"

October 4th, 2021: Misha responds to a fan's tweet by saying that Jensen has "crazy eyes and a knife in his pocket"

October 10th, 2021: Daneel posts a picture of Jensen intently reading Misha's poetry book in front of a roaring fire on Instagram. Misha responds that he misses them even more

October 12th, 2021: Jensen is cast in Rust, a (rather ill-fated) western and Misha says "Yippie-ki-yay" and calls him a stud in the comments

October 16th, 2021: Denvercon. Jensen and Jared reunite for the first time since THE INCIDENT

April 24th, 2022: Misha Collins says in terms of being an extrovert, an introvert, or a bisexual, he joked "I'm all three". This led to the internet celebrating Misha's newly revealed bisexuality.

April 25th, 2022: Misha Collins comes out as straight. Oops!

June 19th, 2022: According to Misha, Dean's heaven was supposed to be at the Roadhouse with all his friends and Cas was going to be there with him

November 7th, 2022: Misha calls Elon Musk a snowflake

November 12th, 2022: Tumblr starts planning another Mishapocalypse

January 24th, 2023: Jensen and the cast of the Winchesters throw Dean Winchester a birthday party, including wearing silly little hats

February 26th, 2023: At JIBcon 11, Jensen sings an improvised song about an angel while Misha sits cross-legged on the floor looking up at him

April 1st, 2023: 10 year anniversary of the Mishapocalypse

April 16th, 2023: A year after his bisexual whoopsie daisy, Misha says that Warner Brothers asked him to "let it go" and keep pretending to be bisexual.

August 23, 2023: Rogue Spanish translator is revealed to not have gone rogue at all but instead to have followed the script he was given, confirming the existence of a mutual love confession that was cut at some point.

If you can remember any events and dates that I haven't found, please let me know and I'll add them! I haven't really rounded out 2022 and 2023 yet.

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lazypanartist · 11 months

Text

Hobie Brown x Artistic/DIY Reader

I love him 💙

pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

Warnings: maybe spoilers for ATSV, IDK. Reader's in the punk scene and from Hobie's universe. Whole lotta projection. Canon-typical injuries

Features info dumping and personal Hobie HCs I guess. It's long ASF. And just self indulgent

Please RB, likes alone don't do anything for the algorithm!

-----

DIY/punk Hobie Brown

If you're in the scene, you know the basics

Patches?

Hand-Stitched

Usually with dental floss for durability/cost efficiency

And originally painted with white-out for the same reasons

Spikes or studs?

Cheap, bulk buy, screw em on yourself

Or just make em out of cans

Hobie's fit looks like it fits the bill

Old leather or denim jacket with the sleeves cut off

FN/SM painted on the back

Shirt's kinda tattered iirc

Spiked collars are easy

Same with the wristbands

When he meets you?

Whoo boy

It was one of his shows he was putting on

New songs, new faces in the crowd

He spots you from a distance at first

Little sketchbook in hand

You stay through his whole performance

When he's chatting up the crowd afterwards, though?

You're already gone

(Bitch writes a song about the pretty thing watching from afar, bc ofc he does)

He next sees you during one of President Osborne's speeches

Standing in the front row of a gathered crowd, shaking your head at the screen

He drops down after a few minutes, hanging upside down and blocking the less-than-pleasant view

He takes a few moments between questions from others

Little explanations

A promise to do what he can

Takes just a glimpse to look you over

You have a similar touch to the rest of the crowd

Worn out boots, tattered clothes, hand-sewn and painted patches

And your sketchbook still in hand

It's a little peculiar for the crowd

But he doesn't question it

What he does question is where you've gone after he turns to look at you

He only took a second for more reassurances

But when he goes to see you again

You're gone, just like the first time you caught his eye

He realizes then

That he's intrigued

He doesn't know what it is about you

Until he keeps seeing you pop up again

Riots

Concerts

Shows

Speeches

His immaterial object of interest

He finally starts actually talking to you the third or fourth time he sees you

At another of Osborne's liefests

An ambassador on a stage, surrounded by punks

Speaking of the President's virtues

Yeah

Spider-Punk shows up pretty quickly to run him off

And gets to chatting with you

When he first approaches, you ask for his opinion on a patch idea

And turn your sketchbook to show him the page

His spider symbol backpiece

But instead of FN/SM, it simply states

"Down With President Osborne"

He takes your pen and signs as a seal of approval before swinging away

Sure, it was a short interaction

But it led to even more meaningful ones

Like, say..

Him practically dropping out of the sky into a park

You were just minding your business, sketching the scenery

When he almost fell on top of you.

Covered in injuries

He laughs when he looks up and sees that it's you

Because of course it's you

Tries to resist when you start futzing over him

If you're the parent friend like me?

Patch him up

PLEASE

Even if you can't see him back together

Just

Bandaids and gauze pads

And maybe some candy

Bc suckers help with creativity

Or it's just my neurodivergence? Idk

Just. Offer him one in case he needs to bite on something while you're putting alcohol on his injuries

When you're done he looks them over

Promptly winces when he twists his arm 🙄

But then thanks you for your help and swings off

Again

These kinds of interactions become common

He'll find you hanging around the city

Either doodling or just vibing

And drops down to talk for a bit

Or get patched up

Loves when you offer to fix his costume

Bc it looks just as nice & homemade as the rest of your/his fits

Grins under his mask when he sees a new patch or two

And starts snickering if you deny their application

He really appreciates everything you do for him

And figures he should prove it

Sure, he's saved you

But he's saved a lot of people..

He wants this to be special

Unique

And he thinks he knows how to do that..

---

Click for next part

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rottiens · 24 days

Text

SHADE OF BLUE | GŌJŌ SATORU

✮ WC. . 2.6k

✮ tags. . canon au, yan gōjō, fem reader, blood, fluff (?), the descriptions could imply that the reader is depressed (tho I don't think so), suggestive. 18+ mdni. divider creds: cafekitsune.

Your vision is tinged with red, just like the sunset that paints the clouds above your head. However, this color is not as intense as the fresh blood that stains Satoru's hands, part of his arms and blue shirt. It seems that the violently inflicted wound caused some drops to reach his cheek, leaving a silhouette that would mimic the stroke of a wet brush. In the distance, as if planned, a bird squawked, causing your muscles to twitch as the cold breeze bites at your bare legs.

At first you fear for the blood being his but that doesn't make sense, you quickly cross out that idea.

"Wh-"

"May I come in?" his voice interrupts you, tired, raspy.

His white hair is wet like he's been running to get here or like he's been standing in the drizzle that started falling a few minutes ago.

"What happened?" Initially, the voice you hear is unfamiliar, echoing distorted in your eardrums.

"Please?" your fingers expose your unsure thoughts as you squeeze and cling to the doorknob. Satoru takes a fleeting glance at your chest made transparent by the pink fabric of the bathrobe hugging your figure, only to snap back into your eyes. "You're not afraid, are you?"

You take a deep breath of air; the rusty iron smell of blood stirs your insides. Finally, you exhale your doubts and push the door a little further to give him room and allow him to enter the cozy cabin, still with the thought hammering at the back of your neck that this is a mistake.

Satoru tilts his head down as he passes through the doorway, his long strides taking him straight into the heart of the cabin without pausing to look back. The cabin, which you rented to be close to the mountains and escape the horror your life had become a few weeks ago, has a rustic and cozy atmosphere, splashed with brown colors wherever you look.

The wooden floor creaks softly under Satoru's feet as they pause in front of the lit fireplace, while the dim light from the lamp overhead dances across his broad back and the walls.

Satoru turns to look at you. The tension from earlier when you opened the door seems to have disappeared from his face, his cheeks pale from the cold and his rose-tinted lips grateful that you have given him shelter.

"It's a cozy place." Satoru is playing with the silver ring on his finger as he holds your gaze. Your lungs empty, you should have known it wouldn't be so easy for him to explain what happened. With Satoru nothing is easy.

Your folded arms press closer to your chest, hiding your hard nipples from his all-seeing eyes.

"Thanks," is all you say in regards to his compliment because after all, why pretend this is a normal visit.

"That's funny. We could have both been here together."

A smile laden with irony stretches your lips. Your arms fall to either side of your body showing him your vulnerability. "It's funny indeed, considering it was you who broke up with me."

His laughter echoed with a sarcastic tone full of disdain, as if he was mocking the situation. "You know what…"

"Whose blood is it, Satoru?" You get right to the point and he grins now, combing back strands of hair that immediately take on the red color trapped in his fingers.

"I need a shower first." His long strides catch up to you as he slips past you, his eyes scanning you up and down undisguised before he turns his gaze back to the front. You call out his name turning on your heels only to catch up to see him disappear up the small steps that would take him toward the second floor and the bathroom. "Don't worry! I know where the bathroom is…after all, I was the one who sent you the pictures of the cabin, remember?"

You want to just sit there near the fireplace, feel its warmth on your hands, face. Sink your fingers into your forehead, massage your temples and finally wake up and realize that this is nothing but a dream… no! A nightmare. What was Satoru doing here? It was just one of dozens of questions bombarding your head, your temples beginning to throb with pain.

You command your feet to walk over the Persian carpet, its soft cells massaging your feet guiding you towards the steps previously trodden by your ex-lover. As you enter the hallway the rope that suddenly began to bind your temples like a rubber band tightens with more intensity, the floor is covered by the trail of his dirty clothes: shirt, pants, socks, boxers….

In front of the bathroom and thanks to the half-open door, you hear the water running. Your fingers push unwillingly the door relieving in front of you a completely naked man smelling the shampoo you had left on top of the sink, even without looking at you, Satoru could recognize your scent at least ten kilometers away so seeing him smiling when you stand still in the door frame is not a surprise for you.

"Satoru."

"I was missing hearing my name in your voice." His long eyelashes close as he utters these words, fluttering as he squeezes the bottle of shampoo to release the scent of coconut and vanilla. "Damn." Smells like you. His grip on the plastic bottle grows tighter before he finally sets it aside. He contemplates himself in the mirror for a moment before speaking again. "Come closer," he tells you, disguising his command as a request.

You don't know if it's because you don't feel like fighting that draws you toward him like a sailor to a siren's song, or if you really miss him and would be willing to do anything he asked of you to have his attention on you again. The only thing you recognize at this moment is his presence, which makes you feel overwhelmed and nervous, just like before when you were together.

Satoru turns to acknowledge your presence. "I asked you a question earlier." He stretches out his hand, and though your body tightens from the inside, you don't move a muscle. "Are you afraid of me, angel?" His fingers, which were hovering over your collarbone without yet touching you, descend along your sternum, brushing a nipple that hardens further by his presence as you try to pretend nothing affects you.

"No."

"Good." Satoru licks his lips. "Because I would never hurt you." As he continues to amuse himself with his fingers making circles you can't feel on your chest, your attention focuses on the details of his face; his pale skin and the red spot on his cheek that breaks the harmony of the color palette. "Now. Ask me."

You weren't prepared to hear what she had to say. Whatever his answer or justification, you could feel the weight of guilt of being complicit. Still, you dare to ask directly, "Whose blood is it?"

"I had to clean up," he replies with an exhausted sigh, then pulling his hand away from you and causing you to whimper almost like a wounded puppy. "The higher-ups," he finally adds, punching you in the lower stomach.

Immediately, something acidic pours into you, burning your insides, your esophagus, filling your mouth with saliva.

"Satoru?" you mumble barely audible, horror marking your frown and a brief pout warped by dismay. You needed him to tell you it was a joke. He took the hem of the blindfold and pulled it over his head like a bandana, only to let it rest beside you over the sink.

"Hm?" He's not looking at you, and you desperately look for him to continue the conversation.

"Did you kill them?" It's the question you don't want him to answer, even though deep down you already know the answer; you just need confirmation.

"Come with me."

Instead of answering your question, Satoru entwines his still-cold fingers with yours and guides you toward the shower that continues to spill water onto the tiles. You, on the other hand, don't move a muscle; your feet cling to the floor like roots as adrenaline floods through your bloodstream.

"Did you?" you insist.

"Just a few," he replies with the same relaxed expression.

"Just a few?! You can't…"

"Oh, but I did. I can, as a matter of fact. And I'll do it again if they dare speak to my future wife like that again."

In a matter of seconds, a lot happens. His fingers squeeze yours, proving to you that this was real; unlike the dreams and nightmares you've had about him over the past few days. His blue eyes finally stay locked on yours, burning your heated self with their icy presence as he tries to decipher what exactly is going on in your mind. You stumble over your own breath as you struggle to inhale deeply, rushing oxygen to your brain.

Something warm spills down your cheeks, descends into the depths of your belly and finally settles in your pelvis, riotous and intense, as subtle as the wings of a butterfly.

"I don't understand," is all you manage to say, your brain trying to process hundreds of stimuli at once. "Did you do it for me?" Guilt. Guilt.

You should feel guilty, your inner morale accuses you.

Once again, Satoru ignores you and pulls your hand to walk you towards the shower. This time you don't insist on standing still; your legs obediently respond by automatically moving toward the glass cubicle, giving his fingers permission to remove your clothing. Your tense body is grateful for the warmth of the water that immediately drenches you, for before he came to break what little stability you had managed to create, you were about to step into the shower.

For his part, he grabs the sponge and offers it to you, and it takes you a few seconds to accept it amidst the disheveled blinking that chases away the tears that threaten to spill. Then he drops a stream of the liquid soap and turns his back to you.

Moles and freckles hug it, from his broad, strong shoulders to the small of his back. Memories lash you; you remember tracing those moles when neither of you could sleep, you remember kissing them, you remember your fingernails creating red moons on it.

You carefully round his waist, your forehead rests right in the middle of his shoulder blades and the rain from the shower now falls directly on your head, making it a little difficult to breathe, but you stay there, tucked in your safe place. You remain silent like that for a while, feeling the warmth of the water wash away the dirt into the plumbing as everything he has said sorts itself out in your head like a jigsaw puzzle.

Last month, your life and everything you knew as stable came crashing down after a mission gone wrong. The bloodied faces of the civilians who died because of you haunt you every so often at night. This resulted in your demotion in rank as a sorceress and a six-month suspension. No missions. You couldn't set foot in the academy, which equaled no financial stability, not being able to help your parents pay for the house, much less pay for your own apartment.

You thought things couldn't get any worse until, a few days later, your boyfriend of two years broke up with you, leaving you adrift in a sea of unpleasant emotions that you couldn't control. So having Satoru here in front of you after days of not going out to see sunlight and having no contact with other human beings, feeling his presence under your body is overwhelming, almost unreal. You allow yourself to sob quietly, being cradled and coddled in his arms as he turns you to press your body much closer to his.

He cooing to you, murmuring sweet words that only he can say and that you long to hear.

"I'm sorry I left you when you needed me most. I had to pretend that the disappearance of a couple of higher-ups wasn't related to you. I would never put you in danger," he says once you've finished your shower and the jet of water has stopped.

Satoru holds your cheeks, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing to him. Inevitably, more tears spill down your cheeks and he hurries to wipe them away with his thumbs.

"Sh. I'm here now," he murmurs, keeping his gaze fixed on you, on your lips. "Can I kiss you?"

Your throat is still in a lump, but you nod slowly giving him the permission he needs and Satoru doesn't wait to place his mouth on yours taking you into a trance where you feel only his soft lips molding yours, purring as he pushes his mouth against yours. You feel him exploring every space, roaming every nook and cranny as the kiss intensifies accompanied by a soft chant of moans that grow louder each time.

Your ribs are pressed into his palms, his fingers defining the contours as he slowly pushes you against the wet wall.

"I missed you," he admits between kisses, finally pulling away to rest on the line of your neck and leaving a mark with his teeth.

. . .

Silently, Satoru guides you into the room, holding your hand the whole time. He helps himself by the dim light of the night lamp to move naked around the room. Seeing him act the way he used to, when everything was fine, fills your chest with nostalgia.

After a moment, he gets an extra towel from your suitcase along with essential oils that you always carry with you and with a kiss on the forehead followed by a brief giggle, he asks you to sit on the floor next to the bed to help you dry your hair. It's the first time in a long time that you don't have to worry about feeling guilty or sad, because all you can feel is him, his fingers, the way he interrupts his massages on your skull to kiss your face.

Satoru holds you against his chest all night. Your naked bodies melt as one under the silk sheets, he presses you against him as if he fears you will run away. His legs entwined like vines keep you safe.

In the middle of the night satoru turns his back on you releasing you from his prison and letting you be the one to protect him now, you circle his waist and hide your face in his silky clean hair, the strands tickle your face but you refuse to move away from the safety this moment brings you, the smell of your shampoo on him has never smelled so good.

"Satoru." You call out to him in a whisper so low you wonder if you've woken him. You don't want to interrupt his sleep and are surprised when he mumbles a Hm? Are you okay? "I didn't mean to wake you," you reply.

"I wasn't sleeping." This time he turns his body to look at you, holding his face with one hand while the other is on your waist, keeping you still. From the tired look and the slight dark circles under his eyes that begin to form, you wonder when was the last time he had a good night's sleep. "What's wrong?"

What you're about to say to him makes you embarrassed for some reason.

"You mentioned you wouldn't let anyone talk to your wife like that…" you blurt out the sentence, letting it float into the room unfinished. Hearing your words immediately makes him smile and you feel his fingers tighten on your skin.

"Yeah. I said that," he states proudly.

"You were serious?"

"There's nothing that would make me happier. So yes, you will one day be my wife when you're ready."

You are driven by emotion to throw yourself on top of him, pressing your body to his and melting into an embrace that neither of you wants to break first.

notes. yeah, he kills people but he's my little meow meow and have you considered that he's a good husband too? yeah that's what I thought.

#wr #jjk drabbles #gojo drabbles #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #cw yandere #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu Kaisen x

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isaegi · 7 months

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CRAVINGS

feat. gojo satoru x reader (gn)

includes: canon divergence (au), pining gojo teehee, fluff, strangers (gojo is a persistent customer at your workplace, absolutely does NOT let up) to hinted luvers mwahaha, JUST SO FLUFFY GOJOS SO DNJAUDSHUFAEK :((

A/N: absolutely have to share this drabble/headcanon idea that has been plaguing my thoughts for the past few weeks with you guys. definitely have thoughts of turning this into a proper fic

MEET CUTE (but it turns ???) with Gojo Satoru who slowly becomes your diner’s most regular customer— and it all whittles down because of you.

It all starts when Gojo bursts in through the diner's entrance during your closing shift while his best buddy, Geto, is waiting for him in his old man's car. The engine runs loud and persistent, and you can practically feel the base of music from his car thumping from where you stood behind the counter.

Despite there being literally no one else in the restaurant save for a couple of employees cleaning down tables for the night, Gojo still has the audacity to open his mouth and ask, "You guys still open?"

"Gojo, there's 5 minutes until closing." You hear your supervisor, Utahime, grit from behind clenched teeth. Her face most likely contorted into a forced smile, you're sure. "You can come back tomorrow at a more appropriate hour."

"Come on, Utahimeee~" you hear the white-haired male groan, ignoring her quick remark for him not to call her by her first name so casually. "Throw me a bone here; it'll be quick I promise."

"The chefs are already packed up and heading out for the night," she throws over her shoulder, "and I suggest that you and geto go do the same." With that, Utahime's already swiftly turning on her heel to make a sharp beeline toward her office stationed beside the kitchen.

Honestly, you feel kind of bad for the guy. But it seems like this isn't his first incident of walking into the Iori's family business just minutes before closing.

Now it’s just you, that tall— stupidly attractive— stranger and the sound of the door creaking shut behind Utahime that accompanies the silence that hangs in the room that you both share. Despite being turned away, Gojo had yet to turn and head back out into the vacant parking lot— save for his car and Geto who is still waiting for him in it.

Blue eyes soft with confusion paired with pink, pouty glossed lips graced his face. If Utahime wasn't gonna throw him a bone, you might as well. Besides, the sooner you send him on his way with whatever he came here for, the better. You wouldn't wanna have to stick around for when Utahime comes back into the dining area to chew him out.

"What were you looking for, specifically?" you pipe up from the counter. "If it's anything from the display I'm sure I can just throw it in a to-go container for you."

Gojo flicks his attention away from Utahime's office door to you. You can't quite place your finger on the emotions he's wearing, but the face of pure disbelief is one that automatically strikes you.

"You serious?"

You nod, already shifting your attention away from his starstruck gaze to head toward the dessert display. It's only a small gesture of kindness that you'll be contributing, nothing too grand. So, it's no biggie. "As long as word doesn't get back to her, it should be fine."

Just hand him whatever and send him on his way. It'll be a one-time thing.

"Tell on you to her?" Gojo joins you on the other side of the display case, eyeing you through the glass when you bend down to unlock the sliding door. "I could never."

You drag your eyes away from the display up to his face, only to find that he's already staring at you. Okay, cool! You bite down a yelp and suppress the strangled noise with a cough. "So, which one would you like?"

Again, Gojo's face is unreadable, but you watch how his eyes trail along your face, drinking you in. Almost as if he were to blink, you'd disappear right before his very eyes. And with how close he is you can really see it. Really take in how pretty this man is.

After what feels like forever in a matter of mere seconds, Gojo's gaze finally flits down to your hand awkwardly hovering over a sad-looking piece of purin. "I'll take that one," he says, nodding his head toward the custard.

You blink. "Oh—" You clear your throat. Out of all the different pastries on the shelves, he chooses that one? "Okay..."

You reach for one of the plastic containers stationed under the display counter and peel the packaging open. Grabbing one of the tongs, you reach for the purin and slowly yet surely make your way to plop its contents into the container for this man.

Everything was going peachy until the moment a part of the custard grazed the thumb of where you were holding the container— effectively ruining a bit of its circular shape.

"Shit." You curse, immediately flicking away the caramel that grazed your finger. You pray and hope and pray to whatever higher power that he wasn't watching this whole ordeal go down. You shoot him a quick glance to confirm your suspicions.

He's still watching you.

You ignore his breathless chuckle at you, and in turn you choose to watch as he reaches for his back pocket for his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it. It would've been tossed anyway," you assure, waving your hands to further drive home the point to him that there was no need to pay. You loved Utahime, but you absolutely did not want her grilling you tomorrow as to why your till was off, despite you dropping the entirety of your money the night prior.

"How about I—"

"By the time I step out here Gojo you better be gone! We're! Closed!" You hear your supervisor shout from the back.

The sigh Gojo heaves is one riddled with exhaustion and disappointment. Yet, he doesn't let the easy smile resting on his lips slip for a second.

"Thank you," he breathes, he lifts his hand— the one holding his dessert— and shakes it for emphasis as to what he was thanking you for. Still facing you Gojo takes a step back, "See you again, yeah?"

And he stands there. Waiting with his head tilted to the side, hand still pressed against the entrance door's handle.

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights. He's fucking waiting for you to respond. "Oh, uhm," you feel your face warm under the intensity of his gaze. "I guess?" What are the chances that you do see him again though?

Satisfied with your answer, Gojo nods. He backs out of the restaurant, humming an incessant tune under his breath as he trots back to his car.

Ever since that day— much to Utahime's utter confusion and exasperation— Gojo has been making more frequent visits to the diner. And with his visits came questions of where you were, if you still worked there, how you've been. So on and so forth.

Despite you telling him numerous times, that there's no need for him to pay back the favour, gojo still swings by. He still drops in and sits right in your section. Still acts like he doesn't no what's "good" from the menu and what's not. And still asks you for your recommendations whenever you do wind up having to take his order.

Coworkers of yours giggle, blush and squeal over to you whenever they are also encountered with the remarkable beauty and divinity that is Gojo Satoru. Their hushed whispers whenever they see him walk past the diner's doors. Their dejected whines when they realize he's walking out of their sections and slipping into the booth toward the back. Slipping his lanky, lean body into your section's booth.

It's like he can't let you out of his sight for long, because he craves the occurrence of running into you too much. He keeps coming back in hopes to be more familiar with you, and you with him.

HOPING THIS HEADCANON GOT YALL CRAZY LIKE I... HE'S SOFKJSDSRFKL :')) he deserves anything and everything. so this will most certainly be expanded on in a fuller fic with much more depth and nuance <333

just had to get this word vomit out! i hope u enjoyed :))) please let me know ur thoughts!

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #isaegi #i am SO gonna bring this to life #it is in the drafts #OH I LOVE YOU FOREVER SATORU <333 :(

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theloneotaku158 · 5 days

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As of Batman: The Brave and the Bold #12, local precious-gremlin-who-I-would-die-for, Maps Mizoguchi, is now officially(?) the sixth Robin. Or at the very least, she's now "in" on The Secret™.

If this isn’t a set up for her taking up the Robin mantle officially then I genuinely don’t know what is.

As one of the twelve Gotham Academy enjoyers in existence, I am having the extremely normal reaction of "FUCKING FINALLY! LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO--!"

In all honesty, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't seen this coming from miles away. Like, Maps has appeared in a number of seemingly random cameo roles recently, including Batgirls (2021), and even technically as Robin in the backup issues of Batman (2016) #119-121, and in a short story in Batman Black & White. And most of those got collected in a standalone titled "Maps of Mystery", which specifically gathered all her appearances as Robin (and the Gotham Academy Belle Reve story).

And then, of course, her recent time-travelling Future-Trunks-esque appearance in Birds of Prey (2023), as the tech-based Meridian, from a potential future timeline where she apparently makes it as a superhero using gadgets she apparently designed, proving that she's hero material.

That's not something you do for a character for no reason. That's the sort of thing you do when you want to keep a character in the conscience of your readers for whatever reason, because you have bigger plans for them.

Also interesting to consider that, in the "Mother's Day" story where this took place, Alfred is standing right there and not lying down six feet under wood, dirt and a stone slab, and that Bruce is in the old Batcave under the manor so he still has Money™. So we must assume this was some nebulous time in the past (after GA: Second Semester(?), but before City of Bane)... which I won't bother to analyse the exact timeframe of because DC doesn't care about the post-Flashpoint / New 52 / Rebirth / Prime Earth / idfk / Dawn of DC timeline, so neither should I.

But I think it's really funny that this presumably means Maps has known The Secret™ for a long time relative to present-day comics, but always acted like she didn't.

But if all her appearances are in chronological order, that means Bruce is only the fourth Bat whose identity she discovered.

Like, she discovered Cass' identity almost by accident on a trip to the zoo, Damian showed off his grapple gun and gave her an actual Batarang during the three hours he was enrolled in the school (as if she wouldn't immediately put two-and-two together even back then), and she even found out Terry fucking McGuinness would become Batman in a future via a time-travelling grandfather clock.

No I did not make that last part up. Read Gotham Academy istg.

Did Cass know that Maps had been acting as a Robin when she met her, both at the zoo in Batgirls and her future version in Birds of Prey?

Does Damian know the one (1) friend(?) he made in Gotham Academy is potentially in the running for his job?

Is Bruce himself aware that she knows as much about their identities as she currently does?

How is DC going to retcon this so it all makes sense in the barely-functioning canon of the modern DC universe?

I'm digressing. Where was I going with this?

Point is, she's destined to become a Robin, and I'm glad DC finally pulled their fingers out their asses and capitalised on that destiny.

Let's just hope it doesn't take another year for them to follow up on this plotline again.

Bonus: Jason Todd, after learning of Bruce taking yet another happy kid under his wing as yet another Robin, giving her some advice:

#dc #batman #maps mizoguchi #mia mizoguchi #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #batgirl #batfam #damian wayne #robin #jason todd #red hood #gotham academy #dc istg dont drop the ball on this i will NEVER forgive you #and PLEASE do not traumatise this robin #Bruce promised he wouldn't let anything happen to her #he better keep that damn promise #otherwise I will personally Blue Skidoo into the comic itself and kick both Bruce and the traumatiser in the groin

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buckttommy · 29 days

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umm. pause. guys. guys. gay tommy has been canon this entire time. what the fuck. like. oh my god. no. like. okay. okay. so. 2x9 (hen begins), sal [deluca] is talking about his girlfriend dragging him to see twilight. he makes a homophobic joke about tommy being team jacob and tommy's like "i don't even know what that means." chimney says "he's insinuating that you're gay" and tommy blows deluca a kiss. fine. whatever. but THEN you skip to 2x12 (chimney begins), and—i stg it's a blink and you miss it moment—tommy and gerrard (racist captain) are having this conversation in the background

tommy: what about that burger place? gerrard: tommy i hate that place. hey wasn't your girlfriend supposed to come and cook us dinner? tommy: uhh. next tuesday. gerrard: promise? tommy: uhh. uh. yes. yeah. i will promise.

and it's like. number one, this sounds like a conversation they've had before. something to the tune of "hey, how come you never bring your girlfriend around" which i can't help but think was intentional considering the members of the old 118 were entirely familiar with deluca's girlfriend gina. but number two, no straight man who has a girlfriend sounds that unsure that they have a fucking girlfriend. it was very much giving "ah yes. this human lady that i love that most definitely exists. absolutely. also i like breasts." and it's just like. ok. what the fuck. like. i don't know if this was the plan all along. i don't think it was. i still maintain buck/eddie were supposed to go canon after the shooting and the powers that be got in the way. but. but. the idea that this canon queer character has been hiding in plain sight (subtext) is just. wild to me. like. i've always headcanoned tommy as gay, mostly because every character he plays seems fruity as hell. but bro. i don't think it's a headcanon anymore. and i don't think it ever has been. what the fuck.

there's also the idea that. like. so i've been watching the begins episodes again trying to figure out what, exactly, tommy's crime against the members of the 118 has been. like. he worked in a -phobic/-cist environment. he was definitely complicit in making hen/chimney feel like outsiders in their workplace yes yes all these things are true. but as far as i can tell, tommy has rarely ever actively been anything except spineless. deluca makes a homophobic joke? tommy laughs. gerrard makes a bunch of sexist and racist comments? tommy looks, but doesn't say anything to encourage (or discourage him). hen gives her monologue? he looks chagrined.

and his complicity would be absolutely shitty and inexcusable if he was just a cishet white man. no questions asked. but if — if — you view his behavior through the lens of the fact that tommy is queer himself? that tommy is, and always has been, a member of a marginalized community who felt it was easier and safer to assimilate than it was to be openly queer and have a target on his back? his behavior becomes a whole hell of a lot more understandable. yes, it's still shitty, but. there's a purpose behind it. and this idea is supported by the fact that, when gerrard leaves (flashing forward to bobby begins again), even before bobby gets there (because we always credit bobby with making the 118 the family it is today), like. the atmosphere is completely different. tommy and hen? are friendly with each other. chimney and tommy? also friendly with each other. which we also know because in 2x14 broken, he calls him up for help. which lends credibility to the idea that the problems tommy had (or thought he had) with henchim were not about them as people but more about whatever manufactured conservative boys club bullshit gerrard fostered.

and it's just like. motherfucker. bitch. what the hell. like. first of all, leave it to 9-1-1 to tell a story like this in the most subtle way possible. like if that was indeed the intended implication, i'm throwing my tv off a bridge immediately. but also. second of all. what is wrong with this show. they're crazy. i want to eat it like a loaf of bread. just shovel it in my mouth because the idea that tommy has been queer all along, that he wasn't brought back just to be a stopgap on buck's queer journey to eddie, but that he's been haunting the edges of the narrative like a gay ghost is sooo like. ohhh. okay. [throws up]. like????? okay. anyway. i'm going to be thinking about this the rest of the day.

#tommy kinard #head in hands.....................HEAD IN HANDS #tv: 911 #jack.txt #There's also something to be said about the idea of FOX main characterizing Buck/Oliver #around the same time they put a stop to Buddie #Something about like. Conventionally attractive (dark hair / light eyes) white men are not allowed to be loudly quee #and like. I KNEW there was something there #I knew it. And I love Michael and David and Karen and Hen don't get me wrong #those are my emotional support gays #but I was just like ''hm. kind of funny how every queer character connected to the mains is a person of color right?''#and I never vocalized this thought to ANYONE but I always kept it in the back of my mind #even the men michael would be seen with *before* David — always black #and there's nothing wrong with it it's fine #but the idea becomes a LOT more insidious when I consider FOX's politics—when i consider that both racism and homophobia are inherent to #their brand. and then it's just like ''ohh. you guys made the black people dirty queers because white is right. okay got it''#anyways. let me stop talking. lol

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sundrop-writes · 2 months

Note

Hi! I hope this is okay to send because I’ve sent this type of request to others (and I know that’s normally bad) BUT it’s because I enjoy the different opinions of all the amazing writers!!! It’s not a fic request but just a request for your top headcanons for Spencer Reid.

The things that you’re like “this is canon and I’ll fight you over it” - smut, nsfw, tame, domestic, anything - just your opinions/rants!

(If it’s not okay to ask though please accept my apology!!! I’m still learning the social etiquette of tumblr requests! ) - 🌑

I definitely think this is okay to send to different writers, because you will usually get very different results - usually writers don't like it when you send a request that can only get similar results (asking for a narrative fic with a detailed, similar plot). But I love giving my random headcanons about characters.

Random Spencer Reid Headcanons

And okay, the first one I have in mind for Spencer is so weird.

One of the headliners that I always have in mind for Spencer - he wears tighty whities.

Like - the only kind of underwear that he wears are the classic hanes briefs (usually white, maybe heather grey, never black or any other 'fun' colour) - he doesn't wear boxer briefs, he doesn't wear boxers. Whenever I see a fic saying 'and then Spencer took off his boxer briefs', I'm like: "no, you don't know him like I do".

Spencer is a fucking nerd. Spencer is the type of fucking nerd who would insist on wearing the nerdiest underwear - tighty whities. And people probably write about him wearing boxer briefs because those are the sexy men's underwear and briefs are not like 'hot' to picture men in - but that is exactly why I HC him as wearing them and exactly why I mention that he wears them in every single one of my fics.

Spencer would wear the dorkiest underwear in expectation that he's not going into a sexual situation. He wears his underwear thinking that he's not going to fuck - he's not going to have to 'impress' anyone. Also, over time, of writing several fics about him and thinking about Spencer for 100s of hours a week - I have come to develop this kind of kink for picturing his giant nine inch cock trapped inside the crotch of a pair of briefs, hard and struggling to fit in there. It would be hot in its own way. (Which, Spencer always is.)

Speaking of his cock - you may notice that with a lot of my fics, I take the time to describe in depth what a male character's dick looks like. This is because I take the time to picture and think about what a characters dick looks like and how it is different from other characters (because no, not every characters dick is nine inches, thick and veiny. no) - I call it the Dickscription. And I think it's a very important part of characterization.

Spencer is eight to nine inches (when fully hard) - but he is skinny. His cock is a bean pole, just like he is. You would look at his dick and call it a snake. His cock is very smooth - the skin on it is baby soft and smooth, rather than veiny, and Spencer does not shave his pubes. Spencer is a full bush kind of guy - because he is terrified of putting a razor anywhere near his dick. He would only shave if you helped him and if he trusted you a lot. And he had a very thick, dark bush of hair near the top, around the base of his cock, but it gets more sparse around his balls, which even get soft and fuzzy in some places. (I have thought about this way. too. much.)

He is uncut, and when he gets really needy and teased or if you don't let him cum, then his cock turns a really bright shade of pink or even red, and the colour goes across his whole cock so his cock becomes like this beautiful bright pink rocket - and he leaks. Spencer is a very leaky guy, to the point where he gets everything so wet before he can even cum.

(These headcanons are getting out of control, lets get back to something more wholesome, shall we?)

Spencer is the kind of person to take himself on dates. On the rare occasion that he gets a day off, Spencer indulges in going out alone. It's not necessarily that he likes the solitude, but he's used to it because he spent his entire childhood pretty much alone, and there are a lot of activities that he likes that he thinks no one else he knows will enjoy. So he tries to enjoy treating himself to a day out alone.

He will bring a few good books to a cafe and drink a few expensive lattes (and probably eat a few pastries) and simply enjoy the peace and quiet of reading by himself for a while. He'll go to a book store and browse for hours before finally picking something. He'll go to a naturally history museum and walk around by himself, not tied to the whims of what someone else wants to see.

Hmmm

Maybe some relationship headcanons?

(Because we all love Spencer, lets face it.)

This is something I bring up in Careful (as you guys will see) - but I genuinely believe that Spencer Reid would treat his partner like royalty. He is someone who has spent years reading about romance - especially with his mother reading him so much classic literature, he regards the classics as the bar for romance (and he just hopes that his life doesn't become one of the tragedies where one or both partners die in the end). So he's not the 'Netflix and Chill' type - and he definitely doesn't bring you to the movies to sit in silence on a date.

He is the type of person to hire a violinist to play your favourite song by the table on a date, he will open doors for you, help you with your coat, pull out chairs for you, recite poetry to you (probably in other languages just because it sounds beautiful).

He will always think of the most unique dates to take you on. He'll take you to museums, to an observatory, to the orchestra - he'll take you to a large, elegant library that has rare books and recite lines from those classic books to you while you're there. He would take you to plays or a midnight picnic by a lake. Dates with him would never be boring or typical - it would be like living in a romantic movie.

A lot of people HC that Spencer would not be into PDA because he's too shy, but I don't think that's the case. Early seasons Spencer maybe, but I think that even he would get to a point where he's just so enamoured with you that he needs to touch you in public. But his PDA wouldn't be steamy or smutty, it would be romantic and soft and passionate.

He would keep a hand on your lower back while walking around, a sign that he's right there with you, a gentle signal to anyone around that you're with him. He would lean in close to speak right in your ear - showing that his words are only for you, that nobody else in the vicinity deserves to hear what he has to say, only you do.

He would graze his fingertips right across your arm, causing goosebumps on your skin. He would stare into your eyes with such intense, burning passion. And he would kiss you in public - lingering only long enough to leave you wanting more. And on occasion, he would lean in to kiss your neck or bring your hand up to kiss the back of it - gentle things to show his appreciation of you without giving away too much for prying eyes to see.

Dating Spencer would be like dating a prince from a hallmark movie, I swear to god.

(That's all I have for now, because if I keep thinking about this too much, I may explode because Spencer is not real and I can't actually date him.)

#sundrop writes #requests #requested #spencer reid #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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irisintheafterglow · 5 months

Note

OKAY A FELLOW SWIFTY I SEE

Okay here me out I need to express this with another SWIFTY

ALL THE GIRLS YOU LOVED BEFORE IS SO GOJO X READER CODED!!

Gege confirmed gojo was canon a player right??

He’s all about fuckboy life but THEN then he meets you and is so inlove he becomes so domestic and just <333

I NEEDED TO SHARE THIS WITH ANOTHER SWOFTY FOR YEARS OKAY THANKS BYE

every dead end street led you straight to me

wc: 2.1k

cw/tags: established relationship, first meeting, creepy guy at a club but he doesn't get very far because of unofficial bodyguard™ satoru, mostly just fluff and taylor references, little fun surprise at the very end in case it wasn't tooth-rotting enough

note: hi anon!!! first off, i'm so sorry this took so long to complete; i literally love aotgylb and so i was a little stumped for how to write this because it's just,,,,so him. i love him. i love taylor. i hope you love this lol. enjoy!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“I really wish I found you sooner.”

“How so?”

“I wouldn’t have needed all that dumb shit with other girls if I knew you were waiting for me. All the lame fights, feeling alone even when I wake up next to someone. That dumb shit.”

“Who said I wasn’t doing dumb shit too?” You look at him with a sleepy smile, warm despite the biting chill of the early morning air. "You couldn't fathom how many boys I was crying in the bathroom about."

"Do you remember their names?"

"Of course not." While you press against the personal heater that is your boyfriend, the long-awaited sunlight starts to touch the very tips of the mountains before you. “You remember my first boyfriend, don’t you?”

“Mmm, yeah. The one from Kyoto that dropped out ‘cause he couldn’t stand being weaker than his partner,” he recalls. “He’s also the ugliest of your exes; it’s hard to forget him when I almost exorcized him before I met you.” You burst out laughing at the memory and a puff of your breath appears in front of your face. Satoru follows suit, exhaling a long breath and making boyish dragon noises. “See, aren’t I so much better?”

“Yes love, no one can compete with your dragon impressions,” you tease. With a shiver, you wrap your coat tighter around your body. “I won’t lie, though. My ass is freezing.”

“I was just about to say that,” he agrees, shifting uncomfortably on the stone bench. Even with the several layers of thermal long sleeves, jackets, and gloves, the winter weather seemed adamant on giving you frostbite. “Remind me to never suggest a sunrise hike ever again.”

“But isn’t it romantic? Freezing our asses off and shit-talking our exes?”

“I would not enjoy this if I was with anyone else,” he concludes. “That’s all I’ll say about that.”

“Fine, then go back to that other thing, the one about finding me sooner.”

“Oh, that?” He pauses for a moment, jutting his lips to the side in deep thought. Spots of gold start to catch on his bright white hair, strikingly similar to the snow crunching under your boots. “I was just thinking how much time I wouldn’t have wasted if I simply found you sooner.”

“What do you mean, ‘found me?’”

“I was searching for someone, you know, and I didn’t know what I wanted until I met you.” The corner of his mouth quirks as a memory pops into his mind. “Even though you hated me.”

“I did not hate you,” you argue in vain since you did, in fact, hate him when you first met him. In need of a new partner after your boyfriend (the ugly one, Satoru notes) fell ill the night before a mission, you considered feigning sickness yourself when you saw who the higher ups assigned. It was easier, logistically, to slap on the most powerful asset they had on a mission where a sorcerer dropped out, but it didn’t make him any less annoying when he picked you up at the airport. It was before the days of his current blindfold, when he wrapped strips of white linen over his eyes during the times he opted for no sunglasses. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t unnerve you, the way he navigated through the airport crowds as if his vision wasn’t impeded in the slightest. The aura that he emanated was intimidating and one of sheer power, but the goofy smile and melodic voice contradicted any assumptions you made about the strongest being alive.

“Gojo Satoru?”

“That’s me. I like it when you say my name,” he drawls and you make a quiet gagging noise in your throat.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” you say, walking in a random direction where you hope the driver is parked. To your embarrassment, you turn around to see him standing in the same spot, a smug grin on his face and a thumb pointing in the opposite direction. “I thought I read the lot was this way,” you mutter in irritation while he falls into step next to you.

“Oh, it was,” he affirms and you stop mid-stride. The shit-eating expression on his face only grows wider when he senses your increasing annoyance. “But there’s a dango stand over here and you look like you could use a snack.” He was right, of course, but you didn’t admit it until much later in your relationship. The first twelve hours with him were painfully awkward, to say the least. You shoved dango in your mouth to avoid answering any questions about yourself and stared out the dark window of the car while he snuck glances at you in the backseat. After dropping your stuff at the hotel and slipping into nicer clothes, you walk out onto the crowded street to find Satoru waiting in a sleek-looking suit that would have the girls back home fainting on the spot. He opens the door with a flirty remark that you immediately tune out and you recheck the Cursed Tools in your clutch while he slides into the seat beside you.

“You know your role?”

“I’m a wealthy businessman gunning for the weapon with the blue handle,” he states confidently.

“Green handle, not blue.”

“What’s the difference?”

“One of them has an eons-old Curse stuffed into its hilt…and the other is blue.” He makes a small noise of amusement in his throat and you feel yourself relax a little bit more. “I’ll camp out at the bar and wait for the owner to make a move. Apparently, he’s the type to bite pretty easily if he sees something good-looking and alone. When he’s distracted, you grab the weapon. Got it?”

“Clear as crystal,” he says, swiping his tongue over his top lip absentmindedly. A serious look washes over his face, something in his head making his eyebrows draw together. “What if the guy starts getting handsy with you?”

“I’ll…handle it,” you reply slowly, slightly confused as to why he cares. “Just get the weapon, Gojo. You can stall or kill time however you want before that, but we don’t have the luxury of being able to make a mess.”

“Easier said than done,” he says quietly, “So, no promises.”

It turned out that making messes was simply a part of Satoru’s daily routine. Perched on a bar stool and barely nursing a weak drink, you clearly saw what his idea of killing time was. Lean arms stretched over the back of an overstuffed corner booth in a corner of the club, pulling several nice-looking women into his side while they giggled in his lap. He’d swapped the strips of linen for an expensive pair of sunglasses and he peered over the rim at regular intervals to keep an eye on you. It made your heart pang just a little bit, seeing him easily attract girls to him like a magnet in a paper clip factory. There was no doubt that Gojo Satoru was attractive, yet every doubt existed in your mind as to whether you would ever have a chance with him. You didn’t mean to look so mopey and sad at the counter, but it seems to play to your advantage when the owner of the weapon creeps over with a sinister smile on his face.

“Hello, dear,” he purrs and it takes all of your willpower not to slap him for looking at you like a pretty thing. “Nothing is sadder than a beauty at the bar, all alone.”

“And what were you going to do about it?” You drop the volume of your voice to an enticing volume, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Inject a bit more excitement into your evening,” he replies daringly and the insinuation makes you nauseous. “That man, with the glasses? He broke your heart?” He leans on your shoulder and looks in the direction of your partner, the one who was supposed to be grabbing the weapon while you were busy being ogled by this narcissist. “You need to watch out for men like him, throwing around money and women like they’re of no value. Both have value. You have value.” Great, you groan in your head, he’s gross and a hypocrite, too.

“I wouldn’t say broke it,” you murmur mysteriously. “More like, doesn’t deserve it.”

“You’re feisty,” he observes. “I’m incredibly attracted to it.” Shit. On pure instinct, you feel your Cursed Energy flare up as his hand roams dangerously close to your thigh, sliding down your arm with a clammy palm. Despite not being a sorcerer, you know he feels the energy shift when his eyes dart up to yours not with lust, but suspicion. By some stupid twist of Fate, you’d blown your own cover. The weapon owner’s hand suddenly tightens around your wrist, chaining you to the bar counter.

“Let go of me,” you order, completely rid of the stupidly airy voice and naive smiles.

“What did you just–”

“My love, we’re leaving.” Elegant fingers effortlessly pry the man’s hand from your skin and toss them aside like garbage. You find your coat gently draped around your shoulders, and only then does he guide you up and away from the bar, with the weapon owner still gawking in his stool. Somewhere between your Cursed Energy flaring and the man grabbing your wrist, Satoru must have left his posse of gorgeous women to pull you out of your present situation. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you mutter, slightly embarrassed that he had to come in and save you. “Thanks for doing that, even though you had to leave your girlfriends.”

“Of course. They never mean anything to me, nor do I mean anything to them,” he replies and it sounds genuine, without any sort of mockery or indication that he was holding it above your head. With one arm still wrapped around your shoulders, he calls the valet to retrieve the car and you find that you don’t mind him holding you close. “Nice play with the energy flare-up, by the way. That was really smart.”

“What do you mean?”

“Smoking out the weapon’s energy signature by making it butt against your own?” He shakes his head in disbelief, city lights catching in the lenses of his glasses. “Absolute genius.”

“I…didn’t mean to do that,” you admit and he peers at you out of the corner of his vision. You didn’t know it yet, but to him, you looked prettier than any of the women he was surrounded by inside the club. “It was an accidental reflex when the guy went for my leg.”

“Want me to kill him?” You chuckle, but it dies away when you see the cold expression on his face, nothing like the playful and warm persona you’d just been speaking to. “Say the word and I’ll blow the place to pieces.”

“We’re not supposed to make a mess, remember?”

“And I said no promises, remember?” He helps you into the passenger’s seat with a gentlemanly hand, shutting it after you before settling into the driver’s seat. “Either way, I got the weapon. It was in the guy’s pocket, not in the safe like we thought it would be. But, more importantly, you got out of that creep’s vicinity.”

“I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Anytime, pretty.”

“Don’t call me that,” you say firmly and he looks at you curiously. “What?”

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested in being your arm candy; I’m not that type of person.” He pauses for several long moments, stuck in deep thought.

“I didn’t realize I was the type of person to have arm candy,” he states quietly, like it was an epiphany as he pulled away from the club’s valet curb.

“Something must be wrong with one of your Six Eyes, then, if you truly believe that,” you chuckle, trying to make the mood a little lighter. Yet, he’s still staring straight ahead with a frown on his face and a draw between his eyebrows. It was unsettling, to say the least. “Hey, I really didn’t mean any offense–”

“Let me try.”

“What?”

“Let me try,” he repeats with absolute determination. The streetlight casts his face in a dangerous shade of red.

“Try…what?”

“To win you over. Teach you what forever feels like,” he answers and your head feels like it’s been submerged underwater, all noises suddenly becoming muddy and irrelevant. “Show you that I don’t think you’re just eye candy.”

“What the hell are you playing at, Gojo?”

“I’m just tryin’ to show you that I’m not the playboy you have in your head,” he argues and it makes your cheeks heat. “Let me try. If I fail, I’ll go bald or something. Sorcerer's honor.” You burst out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief but feeling comfortable enough to take him up on the offer. Now, a few years and zero bald heads later, you were freezing your ass off with the man of your dreams on a mountain at six in the morning.

Somehow, you both felt like you’d won the bet when he pulled out that box from his pocket and got down on one knee.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#ask iris!#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff

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