#Like he's not perfect and there are at least two examples of him messing up

[theangryhistoriananna]

The amount of hate Lucien Vanserra gets for being interested in getting to know the person his fucking omnipotent god decided was his perfect match is fucking wild to me.

Like yall want this man to be evil so bad and he's literally just trying to figure out who he is now that everything he thought he was is crumbling under his feet. He's literally coming through again and again for Feyre and her friends despite going through a goddamned identity crisis that's lasted like four books at this point. Yall want this man to be evil and he's only ever been described by literally everyone as "loyal" and "a good male" and "not evil". Yall want this man to be evil and he was willing to die/be tortured to protect Feyre ALONE at least three times.

But because this man was given a mate-something he's been raised his whole life to revere and dream about and want-and he is interested in *checks notes* getting to know her, he's now evil. He's now going to go against five books of character development and become a betrayer and/or unreasonably violent?

Like if you don't ship them that's absolutely fine. I think the concept of them not having romantic feelings and navigating the bond on a purely platonic sense is interesting (though I don't think it's gonna happen given Sarah J Maas' track record) and is something that could make for an interesting story but like......I'm sorry but bending backwards to try and paint Lucien as EVIL????

Have we read the same books?

[honeekyuu]

casual. [miya atsumu x f!reader] chapter two.

>> being best friends with a frat boy can be a real pain in the ass sometimes

or

there's no one who knows you quite like miya atsumu <<

series status: [ongoing]

previous. || masterlist. || next.

a/n: dont ask me nothin about how obsessed they are. i dont got shit to say.

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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

“In my defense-” Saeko starts, dodging a very well-aimed throw pillow to the head. It lands somewhere behind her, crashing into the coffee table and knocking a few used shot glasses to your living room floor. “-I didn’t want you to hate me!”

“Why would I hate you?” you ask, incredulous. She looks at you like you’re crazy, gesturing to the next throw pillow you have in hand, cocked over your shoulder and ready to launch. You roll your eyes, smacking her over the head with it. She barely flinches, still perched on the back of your couch. “Well, yeah, I’m pissed now, but that’s because you didn’t tell me!” You sigh angrily afterward, hitting her weakly one last time before letting it fall to the floor. “But I’d never hate you for sleeping with Suna. He’s a decent dude.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, carefully watching you collapse into the armchair in the corner. “I know. I just didn’t wanna rub it in your face…”

You laugh pathetically, head still swimming from the alcohol. “You wouldn’t be the first.” When she just looks you over, confused, you smile wryly up at her. “Suna didn’t tell you earlier when he went to find you?”

She shakes her head, rounding the couch and flopping down. “He just said Miya outed us and that you were mad.”

You giggle to yourself, a little delirious after just how much shit has happened tonight. “He didn’t say why Miya outed you?” You don’t bother waiting for an answer, your laughter peaking as you curl up in your spot, exhausted. “He was using you as an example for why we should start sleeping together.”

Saeko blinks, eyes empty. She points between you. “Me and you? I mean, I’m down, but-”

You cackle, head thrown back and tears coming to your eyes. You can’t tell if these are good or bad tears. “God, I love you. You’re insane.”

There’s another moment of silence, and then Saeko’s jumping up, eyes wide.

“You and Miya?!”

You can’t stop laughing. Is it even funny anymore?

Your aching heart doesn’t think so.

Saeko crowds over you, pinning you to the chair and shaking you by the shoulders. “What’d you say?!”

“I told him no,” you choke out, still giggling. The tears on your face are warm, and there’s a knot forming in your throat. “I told him I’m better than a pity fuck.”

She stares down at you, fully seated in your lap with a dumbstruck look on her face. “You called it a pity fuck?” When you sniffle in response, she shakes you again. Gently, this time. “What’d he say?”

Her voice is soft. It makes the knot worse. Makes your eyes burn.

Your voice is no more than a whisper, and you can’t seem to look her in the eye. “That he never offered me a pity fuck.”

She stares at you, a soft huff of laughter leaving her. “Oh, my God.” 

You nod, pursing your lips and willing yourself to forget this whole night ever happened. “I know.”

“You have to do it.”

It feels like whiplash. “What?” you say blinking rapidly. “What’d you say?”

“You have to,” she repeats, growing excitedly. “He’s a genius.”

You try to push her off of you, but she just throws her weight onto you. “What’re you talking about?! I can’t sleep with him!”

“But he’s right!” she argues, laughing maniacally. “He’s right! This is perfect!”

“Saeko!” You wrestle her off of the chair, glaring down at her when her ass hits the floor. “I’m not sleeping with Atsumu! I’m in this mess because of him!”

“And he can get you out of it,” she says, grinning like she’s gone insane. “Become fuck buddies!”

“No.”

“Yes.” She grabs your knees, shaking you. “Just sleep with him once, get this whole thing off your chest – And if you love it, keep fucking him! If it’s weird, then at least you’re not a virgin anymore.”

“You realize how insane this is, don’t you?” You shake your head. “Isn’t ‘no strings attached’ an entire genre of miscommunication and feelings gone wrong?”

“Who said there’re no strings?” she laughs. “There’s so many strings. You guys are a fuckin’ ball of yarn. All of your strings are attached.” She leans in, eyes gleaming. “So use them.” When you start to argue, she puts her hand out, quieting you. “You want your first time done and over with, but it is objectively going to be a shitty experience because it always is. The only way to make it better is by increasing your comfort level and your emotional safety. You have to let your body relax, and it has to feel like the stakes are low enough that you can enjoy it. Is that really going to happen with some stranger you can’t even see right in the dim ass light of a Lambda party?”

You refuse to listen to this. You can’t let her convince you – this argument is too convincing.

“Nothing at stake?” you try, gesturing around your apartment. She follows your gaze, tracking all the photos of him. All the decor that he helped you pick out. The TV he helped you mount to the wall. The stains he left in the rug, spilled drinks and hair dye. The hoodie strewn carelessly over the back of a chair, too big to be yours. The smell of him, in your hair and your couch and your home. “Nothing at stake, Saeko?” you ask again, weaker.

She sighs, squeezing your thighs comfortingly. “Is there anyone that knows you better? Anyone you would feel safer with?” When you don’t answer, she smiles quietly up at you and asks a dangerous question.

“Will you regret it if it’s not him?”

–

“So, you and Y/n are fucking now?”

Atsumu screams – doesn’t yell, doesn’t shout. He screams, at the top of his lungs, at four in the morning, in a house full of frat boys.

“Fuck!” he yells, tearing the shower curtain open. His brother is in his bathroom doorway, arms crossed as he leans on the frame. Suna is sitting on his counter, slumped against the mirror and swinging his feet like a schoolgirl while he types on his phone. “Can’t a man shower?!”

Osamu just lifts his brows. “You realize this is a bad idea, right?”

Atsumu rolls his eyes, slamming the curtain shut again and reaching for the shampoo. “Thanks, Rin – I really needed Samu’s opinion on all of this.”

Suna just laughs to himself. “‘s what you get for outing me and Saeko, you fucking asshole.”

“She was bound to find out,” he argues, scrubbing roughly at his hair. He’d tried following after you when you had run off, but he had tripped over someone on the first floor and landed in a puddle of mysterious liquid. He’s tempted to burn the smell off himself at this point. “You’re fucking her best friend. Did you think she wouldn’t find out?”

“I thought you were her best friend?” is all Suna says. Atsumu just scrubs harder, ignoring it. 

“Tsumu.” It’s his brother.

“Don’t.” It’s all he can bring himself to say. 

“You know this ain’t gonna work,” Osamu says. “The hell’re you thinkin’?”

“That I didn’t know I was still causin’ her problems,” he argues. “That I can do something about it.”

“What’ll that solve?” Osamu laughs. Atsumu wishes they had different laughs. “Sleepin’ with her is gonna magically get rid of all her issues? Other dudes are magically gonna stop seein’ how close you are?”

“Maybe.” He’s being petulant. But he can’t get the smell out of his hair, and the words ‘pity fuck’ won’t stop bouncing around his head.

“Right,” Suna says mockingly, low and drawn out. “Because fucking her on every surface in your room is definitely going to fix things and not create sexual tension.”

“Can you get him the fuck outta here?” Atsumu bites, fighting to suppress the sudden yearning ache under his navel – one that he really can’t afford to be feeling when there’s company. Not to mention the heat flaring across his face and over his ears, but he can at least blame that on the heat of the water.

“Tsumu, this ain’t smart.”

If he listens hard enough, Osamu’s voice sounds like his own, and he can understand why people get them confused. It’s his own voice, trying to convince him that he’s an idiot.

He doesn’t need convincing. 

“Well, it’s already been done. ‘sides, she hated the idea, so it doesn’t matter.”

You hated the idea. 

He doesn’t want to think about this anymore.

The smell won’t come out.

“I dunno…” It’s Suna’s voice, quiet and ominous. “She might not.”

Atsumu hates when his heart does the stupid thing it’s doing now – the stupid thing it did earlier tonight. It makes him feel like he’s underwater, makes it hard to think. “What?” he says, trying to fight the urge to peek out of the curtain.

There’s shuffling on the other end, and then a tattooed hand slipping past the curtain. A phone screen glares up at him, his head managing to block most of the water.

[4:27 AM]

Saeko: shes been pacing for 30 min and wont talk to me

Saeko: i think shes thinking ab it…. 

Atsumu feels himself dissociate. His eyes unfocus, and his heart starts to pound in his ears, that underwater feeling starting to become more of a drowning feeling.

Suna’s phone buzzes again, and his eyes catch on the text.

[4:28 AM]

Saeko: she said shes going to bed

Saeko: ….. wanna meet me at my place?

Atsumu rolls his eyes, pushing a soapy hand against Suna’s wrist. “Booty call for ya.”

Suna takes his phone back quickly. “Oops,” he laughs. His footsteps move to the door. “Gotta go, boys – try not to miss me too much.”

Atsumu wonders if you’ll hate him in the morning. He focuses on that so that he doesn’t wonder if you’ll actually agree to the idea. 

Wondering about you in that way feels more like drowning than anything else.

“You know this is a bad idea,” Osamu says, but Atsumu can feel that he’s almost done. “But I can’t say I’m surprised.”

The door closes behind him.

Atsumu stands under the water, wishing they had different voices.

–

The knock on your front door the next morning can’t be Saeko, because Saeko doesn’t knock.

“You’re supposed to be in class,” you say, hand on the knob like you won’t let him in.

Atsumu doesn’t say anything about the fact that you’re wearing his hoodie, even though it has the Inarizaki VBC logo on the front. 

He just lifts a bag of takeout, bags under his eyes to match yours and the smell of pancakes wafting between you like an unasked question.

You let him in, but you let him walk in front of you, because it suddenly feels weird to have his name stamped across the back of the hoodie. It feels weird to let him see it, to let him see his own name on your body.

It feels weird to know that you had gone to bed upset with him, upset with him in your bed but in his clothes.

Why hadn’t it felt weird to do it, then?

Atsumu unpacks the food quietly, which is the first sign that things aren’t okay between you. You hover in the doorway, wondering if the air’s supposed to be this charged.

“Coffee?” you croak, watching his shoulders tense.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice sending sparks down your spine. “Thanks.”

You disappear into the kitchen, nearly running to hide from him. You stand at the counter while the pot brews, arms braced on the corner and breath falling heavy from your lips. Your head hurts, splitting headache the result of too much alcohol and not enough sleep. The air around you smells like him, and you curse quietly at the stupid hoodie on your body. 

You turn, about to strip from it in irritation, and realize it’s not the hoodie.

Atsumu’s standing right behind you, staring down at you like he’s terrified of angering you.

You jump, bumping your elbow into the carafe and hissing when it burns your skin. 

“Shit, you okay?” he says, cornering you against the counter. His hand curls around your elbow, eyes concerned as he leans down to examine it. “Did it hurt a lot?”

You can’t breathe. Everything smells like him – like bar soap and a cologne so light that you’d stopped registering it as cologne years ago. 

“No,” you whisper, not trusting your voice. “Didn’t hurt.” 

You don’t like how close his chest is, how his hair is brushing against your cheek while he examines your arm. You don’t like how his body heat washes over you, comforting enough to make you sleepy. 

What’s he done to you?

You put a hand on his bicep – hate how it feels under your fingers, real and warm and him – and nudge him away, searching for air to fill your lungs, air that doesn’t belong to him.

He seems to realize what’s happening, because the steps he takes to back away from you are large and slightly panicked. “Sorry. Y/n, I’m-”

“It’s okay,” you say sharply, turning to face the coffee pot. “Can you get some mugs?”

He moves around your kitchen like it’s his. 

“You’re supposed to be in class,” you mumble again, still staring at the pot as it finishes brewing.

“Yep,” he says, saying nothing more about it. “Hungry?”

“Hungover.” 

“Me, too.” He reaches past you for the pot, pouring it out for you. “Samu’s out, and Suna’s with Saeko. I don’t like eating alone.”

You know. He never has. 

“How much did you drink last night?” you ask suddenly, not taking the coffee from him when he holds it out to you.

He stares, trying to find your thought process. “Too much and not enough.” You want to roll your eyes, but you don’t, just holding his gaze. “Why?” he asks a moment later, a lot quieter.

You swallow, taking the coffee and leading him to the couch. You realize belatedly – when you feel his eyes burn into your back – that he’d followed his name into the room. 

“You were saying some crazy shit, that’s all.”

He doesn’t respond. That makes you nervous.

You eat in silence. Atsumu turns on the TV and finds the show you’re currently watching together, letting the episode break through the disturbing quiet and the uncomfortable space between you on the couch.

He drains his coffee halfway through the show. “I meant it.”

You hadn’t been paying attention to the TV, but now you can’t even pretend to. Your head whips around to face him, and your eyes widen. “What?”

He sets his cup on the table, eyes still on the screen. “Meant it – what I said las’ night.”

You know.

There was a part of you that had hoped he’d use this chance to take it back. Or that he had actually blacked out, that he wouldn’t remember.

But you’d known. 

All night you’d thought about it – about what Saeko had said.

‘Will you regret it if it’s not him?’

You want to say no. You want to say she’s crazy, that the idea of it being him is terrible, that it grosses you out.

You shouldn’t want to let Miya Atsumu take your virginity. You have too much history.

‘Will you regret it if it’s not him?’

“Okay.” 

Atsumu doesn’t respond. And you don’t want to look at him. You’re too scared.

It takes a few minutes.

“Okay… what?” he says, a whisper left to hang between you.

You stare down into your cup, coffee cold now. “Okay.”

He puts it together.

“Oh,” he breathes. Breathes again. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Your heart rattles your ribcage, beating painfully.

“Now…?” he says. Your face burns.

“It’s ten in the morning…” is all you can muster up.

Atsumu breaks, a weak laugh bursting out of him. “That’s your reason?”

You can’t help it. You laugh. “Can’t think of anything else-”

“Christ – yer an idiot, you know that?” He hides his face in one hand, leaning heavily against the couch. “God, my head hurts.”

You just pause the show before curling up and burying your head in your arms, groaning. “Didn’t sleep a fucking ounce-”

“I couldn’t even get into bed,” he complains. “Just paced my room ‘til the breakfast place opened.”

You laugh softly, your nerves somehow both amplified and relaxing as things between you and Atsumu fall into place.

You peek at him after a moment, watching as he stares down at nothing in particular.

“You’re s’posed to be in class,” you say for the third time.

He purses his lips, shaking his head. “Was worried about’cha.”

You stare, just watching him. He glances up, feeling your eyes on him.

His eyes drop to your mouth. Your heart stops beating.

His hand finds yours on the cushion. 

You unfold and lean toward him, swallowing hard. “Tsumu.”

Something flickers and warms in his gaze. He’s sliding across the couch toward you, quick and quiet and leaving no room for either of you to chicken out.

The press of his lips against yours is quick, but it lasts forever. When he pulls away, it’s only far enough for him to heave out a shaky breath, leaving you trembling in front of him. 

“Shit,” he says, more to himself than to you. You just stare up at him, trying to process how, out of everyone, it’s Miya Atsumu whose kiss has your skin searing hot and your body fighting for control of itself.

His face is red, and his chest is moving unevenly, like he’s trying to remember how to breathe. He looks nervous. You’ve never seen him this nervous.

You can’t help it.

Reaching out, you cup his face in both hands – his cheeks burn your skin – and pull him toward you. He inhales sharply, your name falling from his lips in a quick breath.

You push your mouth to his, afraid and nervous and completely, totally, inexplicably certain.

Atsumu groans, leaning heavily into you and slotting his mouth better against yours. He’s thrown off balance by the sudden weight shift, and you feel him stagger against you, one hand coming down on your thigh while he moves even closer to you. You push your body into his chest, arms sliding up so your fingers can lace into his undercut.

He shivers under your touch, fingertips kneading at your skin. “Fuck,” he whispers into your mouth. His teeth catch on your bottom lip, and he starts to apologize, but your sharp gasp and the tightening of your fingers in his hair makes him pause.

He pulls away slightly, just to look down at you. You know you look like a mess – your face burns, and your mouth hurts, and you can feel your heart pounding in your heart and ears and fingers, all the way down to your toes. Your vision feels foggy, and all you want is to climb into his lap and kiss him until he can’t breathe.

But he doesn’t look much better.

His ears are pink and his face is radiating heat, and his lips are swollen. He smells like syrup and coffee and home, and it drives you insane to know that that’s exactly how he tastes, too. And his fingers are shaking on your skin, squeezing tight around your thigh in a way that tells you he wants to keep going, but he’s too scared.

“This okay?” he asks, his breath washing over you. You swear he put a curse on you – everything about him lights your skin on fire. 

You want him. You want this.

“Yes,” you breathe, unable to get any sound past your throat. “Please, Tsumu.”

You’re being pushed against the arm of the couch before you process that he’s heard your response. His mouth burns on yours, and he’s got a hand on your knee, parting your thighs to make room for himself. Your stomach flips when you feel the slide of his thighs between yours, the press of his hips against yours. You can’t help the quiet moan that leaves you, because his bodyweight feels perfect on yours, like you’d been waiting forever to feel him like this.

His teeth nip down on your bottom lip, and you know, in the back of your head, that he’d done it just to hear you moan.

It works.

It’s raspy, like a muscle underworked, and you suddenly can’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. If you’d ever felt like this.

Atsumu shivers, and you can feel his arms shaking where he braces himself over you. He pulls away from you, trailing his lips down the side of your throat and pushing his hips further into yours. You breathe out unevenly when he does, and he swallows hard, rocking his hips forward again.

You crane your neck to give him more room and part your lips. “You’re-” You curl both hands around his biceps. Your chest pushes up into his. “You’re doing that on purpose,” you whisper, nearly a sob.

He drags his teeth over your pulse, tongue burning a path on your skin, and you feel him breathe out nervously. “Maybe,” he admits, sending your heart into your throat and out to your fingertips. He pushes his hips down on yours again – your breath crashes past your lips in another moan – and settles between your thighs. You can feel it now, how hard he’s getting against your leg.

He sucks hard on the spot under your ear. “But you like it… don’t you?”

You gasp hard, your stomach flipping and a shiver washing over the crown of your head and down your spine. You try to push your thighs together, but they just squeeze around his hips, drawing him in. He moans against your skin, the sound a little desperate and far too much for your nerves right now.

“You feel good,” he whispers, panting. “You feel real good.” 

“Please, Tsumu,” you say back. Your pajama shorts are starting to stick to your inner thighs, your underwear completely useless now. 

His grip tightens on your thigh. “Please, what?”

You groan. “Don’t fuck with me right now.” It doesn’t hold much of an edge – your breath is too fragile, your voice too weak.

He lifts his head and kisses you, the feeling somehow more intense than before. His fingers slip up your leg, dipping under the hem of your underwear. He tugs lightly. “Take these off f’me.”

You hook one thumb into your shorts and start to shove them down, the other hand curling into his hair and holding him close so you can kiss him stupid. 

Your front door starts to rattle, the knob shaking crazily. 

“Y/n, open up! I brought coffee for your hungover ass!”

You freeze.

Atsumu freezes.

Your shorts are halfway off your ass, and your underwear is now uncomfortably sticky. 

Atsumu’s hard in his sweats, the front of his pants tented and slightly wet. You can’t tell if it’s because of you or because of him.

You both look at the clock on the console table. It’s been less than ten minutes.

Atsumu breathes out sharply, taking you in with a reddening face. The door rattles again, and he glances over his shoulder at it. “Is that-”

“Y/n, hurry up! Don’t be mad that I told you Miya’s idea was genius – I was just bein’ honest!”

Atsumu’s jaw drops open, and he stares down at you with a growing smile, only a little embarrassed. “Good to know I have support,” he says weakly. 

You groan, hiding behind your hands. You warm when his fingers dip into the band of your shorts and tug them back up, covering your skin and signaling that it’s time for him to go.

“There’s, uhm-” he starts, and you peek through your fingers to watch as he sits back on his heels and tries to readjust himself in his pants. “There’s another party tonight – if you wanted to swing by…”

“Y/n, I swear if you don’t answer this door, I’ll use the key that you gave me for emergencies only! I’m considering this a friend emergency!”

“Can you-” You groan again, hiding your face. “Can you answer the door… so I can go change my underwear…?” 

He purses his lips, eyes dropping to the spot between your legs. You shut them quickly, glaring up at him. He just readjusts himself again, nodding.

“Yeah, go.” He helps you sit up carefully, smoothing your shirt out and squeezing your side affectionately. “But… come by tonight?” He dips his head toward yours when you nod, like he’s considering kissing you again. You lean up toward him, and he seems relieved that you’re okay with it.

But the key turns in the lock before he can follow through.

You shove him down on the couch and run off to your bedroom, sliding down the hall anxiously and slamming the door with your back.

“Uh – hey,” Atsumu says, muffled through the wall.

“Oh! Uh-Aha-Hey,” Saeko stumbles over her words, and then starts to laugh. “Holy shit, you’ve been here the whole time? Uh….”

“Yeah… She’s gettin’ dressed er somethin’... She’ll be out in a sec…” You hear him start to move toward the door, his voice growing quieter. “Guessing Suna told you about tonight?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there – I’ll make sure she goes, too.”

“Kay. See ya.”

There’s quiet in the apartment after the door closes. You sigh, moving toward your dresser to change your clothes.

Your bedroom door is all but kicked down. Saeko talks over your screaming.

“Did you fuck that man?!”

“What?! No!” You try to shove her out of the room, but she fights you off. 

“Then why was he hard?! Why were his pants wet?!” You crouch, hiding and groaning into your hands. She crouches next to you. “Are you wet?! Lemme see!” She shoves you on your back, but you kick her off, screaming.

“Stop being fucking insane!”

She just gapes at you. “You totally fucked him. You had sex. I can tell.”

“We didn’t!” you argue, scooting out of her reach just in case she tries anything else. “We just… almost did…”

Saeko just stares at you, eyes wide. “Wow…” She shakes her head, laughing slightly. “You’re such a freak. I’m so proud of you.”

You need new friends. Desperately.

–

“Where is he?”

Suna glances up from behind the bar, a smirk gracing his features. “Hello to you, too.” 

You roll your eyes, warming slightly. Saeko perches on a stool next to you, body angled toward Suna as he makes her drink.

“You wouldn’t believe what I caught them doing this morning,” she says evilly, laughing behind her hand when you smack her on the back. Suna’s brows fly up with interest.

“Oh, yeah? Was it freaky?”

“Okay,” you interrupt, ignoring the peak of Saeko’s cackling. “Can someone tell me where he is, please? I don’t see him.” You won’t admit that you’d scanned the crowded dance floor three times since you’d arrived, anxiously expecting him to be grinding on some beautiful sorority girl. 

“I’ll only tell once I hear my ‘Thank you, Rinnie’,” Suna says, green eyes glinting with mischief. “I did set this whole thing up, after all.”

You level a narrow-eyed look at him. “I’ll thank you, Rinnie, when my fifteen-year friendship doesn’t go down the drain.”

He smirks, laughing to himself and then leaning toward you with knowing eyes. “Just so you know, I’m not a cheap date.”

You turn to Saeko. “What’do you see in this guy?”

She just sighs dramatically, in a longing-fairytale-princess kind of way. “Mostly the extra-large condom in his wallet.”

Suna’s laugh, full and whole-hearted, drowns out the noise of disgust that you make.

“God, can you just make me a drink?” you say, grimacing up at him. He shakes his head, eyes still drawn to Saeko’s bright face. 

“Nah, none for you.” When you frown at him, ready to argue, he shoves a cup full of something – is that lemonade? – in your direction. “Just trust me,” he says.

And then his gaze tilts toward the stairs, just past your shoulder. 

“He’s in his room.”

Your heart sinks. “Alone?”

Suna’s grin lifts it back to your chest. “Just go, Y/n.”

Your path to the staircase is filled with your heartbeat, pounding in your ears.

–

“You’re not downstairs.” 

You stare at Atsumu from the door – he’s lying face up on his bed, eyes closed. The thumping music is quieter up here. 

He only smiles when he hears you, eyes still shut. “Yer makin’ a lot of observations today.”

“Are you drunk?”

His grin grows. “Do I look drunk?”

“I dunno. Lemme see you.”

Your heart pounds against your ribcage when he meets your eyes.

He sits up, taking you in where you stand, your back pressed against the closed door. “You came,” he mumbles, eyes trailing down your body. “I wasn’ sure you would.”

You chew on the inside of your lip. “We were interrupted this morning.”

His eyes find yours, that honey brown much darker in the quiet, low light of his bedroom.

You find your breath, shallow and low in your lungs, and push on. “You’re sober. Why?”

It’s his turn to chew on his lip, gaze examining you. “You know why.”

I don’t wanna be drunk for this.

His eyes drop to your thighs, exposed and covered in goose bumps. “Yer wearin’ a skirt in this weather?” 

In the dead of winter?

“I am,” you concede.

“Why?”

You don’t say anything, just swallowing and reaching behind yourself for the door handle. 

The click of the lock radiates off your thumb like a jolt of electricity. 

You know why.

Atsumu’s lips part in anticipation, eyes searching yours like he’s looking for permission.

You force your legs to move, force them to carry you to the bed, even though the nerves weigh you down like lead.

When you sink down into his lap – knees on either side of his thighs, his hands anchoring to your waist – you feel your walls crack, the anxiety crumbling and something else peeking through. Something dark, something you aren’t allowed to name.

One hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in.

Your walls fall into nothingness.

His lips are full and urgent, hot on yours and parting just enough to let his sigh through.

“Been thinkin’ about this all day,” he breathes, the words going straight to the heated spot between your legs.

“Me, too,” you admit. Your fingers card through his undercut, confidence skyrocketing when he moans. He grips your waist, dragging you down into his lap. You gasp quietly when you feel him, half-hard. “Already, Tsumu?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He just grips you and turns, laying you on his mattress with a certainty that makes your stomach flip.

You’ve been here before, on this bed and in this room, so many times. But never like this. Never with his hands on your body, with his mouth on your skin.

“Don’t make fun o’me,” he mumbles, thumbs pushing your shirt up to your ribs so he can press his lips to your navel. “Came in here in this little skirt, expectin’ me to be okay.” His complaints don’t feel real – they feel like he’s trying to convince himself of something.

“Should I wear something uglier next time?” you ask. He moans against your skin, and you realize belatedly that you’d said it: next time.

“Y’could come here in basketball shorts for all I care,” he says, sucking a hickey into a spot by your ribs. You wriggle under him, trying to place the feeling that makes your heart flip and your nerves drop low into your navel. 

You remember a Miya Atsumu that used to joke that you dressed like a guy and sat like a gangster, that you might not be getting the attention you want because of that.

So much for that.

Your veins hum when he lifts to meet your lips, his own warm and wet and swollen from marking you. You can feel the sting of it, the little bites and nips that cover your skin – his claim on you, whether he meant it that way or not.

But when his fingers slip under your skirt, hooking into your panties, your nerves return full-force. You gasp quietly, snapping your knees shut and trapping your underwear where they sit, halfway over the curve of your ass.

Atsumu backs off right away, eyes clearing and searching you urgently. “Sorry, I-”

Your face warms, embarrassment seeping into you. “No, I’m… I-”

“We don’t have to-”

“I want to!” you argue. “I’m sorry. We can keep going.”

Atsumu watches you, honey brown burning into your skin. Your eyes start to sting, a knot forming in your gut. Isn’t this what you’ve been wanting? Where’s this hesitation coming from?

Suddenly, his lips part and his eyes blink, surprise filling them. “Have you never been touched before?”

Clarity drowns out all your confusion.

You’re just nervous.

“Oh,” you breathe. “No. Sorry.”

His brows furrow. “Yer apologizin’. To me.” When you nod, unsure what else to say, an amused grin glances over his lips. “For…?”

“Being… inexperienced…?”

The grin stays this time. “Ain’t that the whole reason we’re here?”

You don’t need to answer – he’s watching the dots connect in your eyes, understanding filling you.

“Oh…” is all you say.

His smile is fonder than you’re willing to contemplate.

“Have you touched yourself before?”

Your face flushes, the warmth unbearable. “Yeah.”

His face warms, too, and his eyes trail down your body. “You wanna show me?”

“What?” Your eyes widen, and you stare up at him like you can’t possibly have heard him right.  “Show you?”

He looks nervous, but he presses on. “Show me. Show me what you like.”

You laugh, the sound broken and full of disbelief. “I-I don’t know what I like! I just do things. I’m not, like, keeping track…”

He tilts his head. “Yer not? You should be.”

“Well, I haven’t been,” you laugh, tempted to cover your face with your hands. You’re so embarrassed, but you’re also making no moves to end this conversation. 

There’s a piece of you that’s too curious to see where it goes.

“Show me, then,” he presses. “I’ll keep track.”

You laugh, a bit of a giddy feeling filling your chest. “Are you asking to watch me touch myself?”

When you say it like that – explicit, clear – Atsumu’s expression changes. His eyes darken, and his head tilts to take you in a little better, laid out next to him on his bed.

“Can I?” he mumbles.

The thumping of the music downstairs, muffled and a million miles away, is the only sound that comes between you for a prolonged moment.

“I don’t wanna do it alone,” you whisper, scared. Scared about what you’re asking, scared that you’re actually saying yes to any of this at all.

Atsumu’s lips part in surprise, and then he’s swallowing hard. You watch his Adam’s apple bob, your breath shallow and afraid.

“Okay.”

You stare up at his ceiling, unseeing, as he climbs off the bed and crosses the room.

Is this really happening?

The sound of his desk chair being dragged across the floor confirms everything for you.

You lift your head, watching him settle into the chair at the foot of the bed. When he meets your eyes, they’re burning with something impatient, something that wants this as much as you do. He pulls his shirt off and tosses it to the floor, settling again and watching as your eyes trail down his body. Your gaze stalls on his right hand, on the spot where his palm sits against the front of his jeans.

A question.

You meet his eyes. He’s already looking at you.

You can only nod.

Your answer.

Atsumu’s eyelids flutter, but he only passes his tongue over his bottom lip, fingers making quick work of the button and zipper. His hand disappears just inside, resting against his boxers, and he sighs quietly in relief. The sound rings in your ears and draws your desire to the surface.

Your finges tremble, but it’s with certainty that you pull on the buttons of your blouse. You glance at his face, but his eyes are following the path of your fingers, darkening more and more with each tug that frees you of your clothes a little more. A glance down shows you that he’s got his hand wrapped gently around himself. He’s thumbing subtly at something, and your mouth dries when you realize what he’s doing.

The moan that passes through your lips is unintentional and draws his attention immediately. He meets your eyes, his face flushed. 

“Yer real pretty, Y/n.”

It’s with a pluck of desire under your navel that you discard your shirt, the fabric sliding off your shoulders. 

The nervous breath he releases passes over your skin, and you realize just how close you’re sitting. Your skin burns where his eyes trail, over the swell of your breasts in your bra and over the spots on your torso that he’s marked, the skin red and warm. His grip on his cock tightens a little, and he shifts like he’s searching for relief.

“Do… I look okay?” you ask quietly, eyes earnest and wide and searching him for his reaction. He groans in response, cheeks flushed and head nodding slightly. His eyes are a little glazed over when he responds.

“So pretty,” he whispers, tongue passing over his lips again. “But-” 

Your heart drops. “But?”

His gaze drops quickly to his shirt on the floor. He looks like he wants to say something, but he just finds your eyes again. “Nothin’, pretty. Nothin’.”

You search him for a moment longer, and then you consider his t-shirt, crumpled on the floor innocently.

You lean down slowly, listening to his breathing change when you put your breasts on display for him like that, and scoop up his shirt.

“Y/n-” he starts, voice tight.

You slip it on without a second thought, engulfed in the smell of bar soap and Miya Atsumu.

The moan he lets out starts deep in his chest, like he’s trying to push it down. You don’t know how to come to terms with the fact that seeing you in his clothes turns him on.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip, and he breathes heatedly through his nose. “Fuck,” he whispers to himself.

You watch his hand twitch, and you’re eager to push him. “Please, Tsumu?” you say, batting your eyelashes up at him.

He can see what you’re doing, you know it – the heat in his glare makes that much clear to you. But he listens anyway.

His fingers slip under the band of his boxers, and his eyes roll into his head when he wraps his hand around his cock. “Fuck,” he whispers again.

“Please,” you push.

He moans quietly. Moans your name like a protest, like he’s asking you to let up on him.

You don’t want to.

“Atsumu.”

The muscles in his torso contract, his body twitching. 

“Asshole,” he breathes. You smile bright, watching his hooded gaze find your lips. “Lucky that you’re so pretty.”

Your breath catches.

He slips his boxers under his hips when you’re distracted.

You don’t remember pressing your fingers under your skirt, surrounded by the smell of him, clinging to his clothes and clinging to you. You just hear the moan he lets out when he sees you touch yourself, when he sees you fall back on your elbows, your knees coming up and parting so desperately for him.

You watch him through your parted legs, watch him slide his palm against the shaft of his cock, impatient and needy. He thumbs at the head, breath uneven, and watches as your fingers find your clit – as you twitch in front of him, aching painfully and starting to soak through your panties.

His face is as red as yours feels, and the room is starting to become too warm to bear, heat radiating off of both of you and into the space between.

When you reach under your skirt and hook your thumbs into the band of your underwear, Atsumu breathes out a gentle plea.

“Please, pretty girl,” he whispers, leaving you wondering if he’d meant for you to hear.

You examine him as you slide the fabric along your thighs. He’s got his eyes on your underwear, sticky and dark with moisture. When you move to drop them off the side of the bed, you realize he’s still looking at them.

“Please,” he croaks, louder this time. His mouth is slightly open, breaths falling out in unsteady huffs. 

You pause, underwear dangling off of your pointer finger. He glances at you and then away, clearly struggling to maintain eye contact. You wonder if– 

“You want them?”

His moan echoes off the walls of his bedroom, head dropped back and cock twitching in his hand.

Your whole body flushes, a wave of heat and humiliation washing over you. “Are you sur-”

“Yes,” he moans, lewd and loud and desperate as he holds his hand out to you. “Yes, Y/n. Please.”

It’s embarrassing how badly you want to see what he does with your dirty underwear. 

He has them wrapped around the base of his cock the moment he gets his hands on them.

Your surprised gasp is accompanied by your hand flying under your skirt, two fingers pushed up against your clit and swiping quick circles. Desire crashes over you, worsening when you watch how he fucks his fist, your panties making the shaft slick with moisture. Your middle finger finds your entrance, that aching sensation concentrated in that little spot, and when you finally – finally – ease in and relieve some of the pressure, Atsumu’s muscles contract, the tip of his cock leaking onto his hand.

You glance up, finding that he’s got his gaze fixed on your hand and the way you touch yourself.

“Pretty little cunt,” he whispers, his hand moving faster now. You moan, ears pounding with your heartbeat, and push a second finger in, curling them desperately and searching for the spot that’ll send you over the edge. “Prettiest thing I ever seen.”

“Atsumu,” you say, not a warning or a whisper or a plea or anything in between. Just his name, because the sound of it in your ears – the feeling of it in your mouth – is enough for your nerves to sharpen and flip under your navel. 

“Not enough, baby,” he says, not a full thought – you’re not sure he’s capable of them anymore. You’re certainly not. “Not enough, need more-” He cuts off, just holding his palm out to you. You stare a moment, confused, not sure what he’s asking.

As it turns out, knowing Miya Atsumu as well as you do actually does come with benefits.

“You want me to…” you start, unsure if he means what you think he means.

He only looks at your mouth, pure need all but vibrating off of him.

You pull your fingers away from yourself, and – wet fingers grasping his wrist – you lean toward him. He meets your eyes when you don’t move.

“Say it?” you beg, eyes wide and vulnerable. “Please?” You want to hear it – you want to hear what he wants from you.

His gaze darkens on you. 

“Spit.”

You shiver, goosebumps washing down over you from the crown of your head. Your hips press into his mattress, accidentally humping down onto his blanket, and his eyes follow the movement hungrily. 

“Lookatchu, darlin’,” he says, voice full and rough. “Makin' a mess on my bed.”

You knock his hand away and lean right over him, your hands coming down to grip his thighs as you let a mouthful of saliva drip down onto the head of his cock.

Atsumu’s head falls back, his spine arching as he groans. “Fuck, Y/n-”

You drop to your knees with a desperation you’ve never felt before. You don’t know where any of this confidence is coming from – you were nervous about this not even ten minutes ago. You were scared and shy and wondering how in the hell you were meant to show your body to your best friend in the whole world.

Now, all you’re wondering is how to make him come as fast as possible. How to make him say your name like that again. How to make him feel the same way you do.

You don’t take him into your mouth – you don’t even touch him. You just run your fingers over his thighs, hooking into his belt loops and tugging lightly, just enough to make him twitch at the feeling.

“You close, Tsumu?” you ask, looking up at him from the floor and making sure that what he sees when he opens his eyes is a dream come true.

He moans, gripping his cock tight and spreading your saliva all over it. He glances down at you and then rolls his eyes up into his head.

“God, don’t fuckin’ look a’me like that,” he pants, hips thrusting shallowly up into his fist. “Won’ last-”

“Tsumu,” you start, one hand dropping back down between your thighs, your fingers slipping in with ease. “Will you say my name when you come?”

It’s only fair, you reason. He wants you in his clothes? He wants to mark you up? He wants you in his bed, messy and needy?

Then you get to have this. You get the satisfaction of knowing it’s your name on his tongue and in his head when he comes.

You get the satisfaction of knowing that this one simple request is enough to send him right over the edge.

“Oh, fu-” His hips jerk off of the chair, head fallen back and sweat lining his brow as he comes, streaks of white falling onto his stomach. Your name is a breath in the back of his throat, said once and then again and again with each thrust of his hips until he’s completely spent and out of energy.

You clench so hard around your fingers that you think you might follow right after him. Your breath is cut short, hitching and falling in time with your effort to focus on him, to watch him fall apart in front of you.

He’s breathing heavily, muscles twitching sporadically and skin flushed with sweat and what you can guess is embarrassment, because he won’t look at you. He just stares up at the ceiling, wide-eyed.

“Tha’s never happened t’me,” he admits after a moment, quiet and shaky.

Your thighs tremble around your wrist, and the aching in your core is stronger than before. “Never come while saying my name before?”

His laugh is weak, the tension finally falling away from his body. “No, but I might hafta start… That was fucking intense.”

You don’t respond, worried you might say something you’ll regret later. Something that friends aren’t allowed to say to each other.

But aren’t you already doing things friends don’t do together?

Atsumu lifts his head, staring down at you where you kneel between his legs. His eyes are sleepy but focused solely on you. “You look good there,” he whispers.

You shouldn’t preen the way you do. 

“Yeah?” you say instead, hoping to distract him. “Bet you do, too.”

He lifts a brow, interest lighting up his eyes. “Wanna find out?”

“You know I do,” you breathe, nervous and excited. He glances at the bed and then back to you, quiet instructions.

You clamber onto the mattress, falling onto your back and letting your thighs drop open, your fingers hooking around them so you can keep your legs open. Atsumu moans, watching you become pliant for him, no longer tense and shy. He stands, using a tissue to wipe his skin quickly and glancing at you when he slips your underwear into the back pocket of his jeans. You just smile up at him knowingly.

“You plan on giving those back?”

He kicks his clothes off. “Hadn’t crossed my mind, no.”

He watches your body respond, watches you clench around nothing, and moans under his breath. He kneels down on the mattress, fingers gliding over your thighs and thumbs spreading you open for him. “You like that? Want me to keep ‘em?”

You bite your lip, flushing in embarrassment. “Shut up. You probably keep every girl’s underwear.”

He shakes his head, a smirk nipping at the side of his mouth. “Check my drawers, pretty. Won’t find nothin’ in there.”

“Is that right?” you joke, feeling your nerves flip over and over again now that he’s kneeling down over you. “Something about me just happens to inspire your inner pervert?”

“You could say that,” he whispers, eyes drawn to where you clench around nothing again, waiting for him. “But you like it. You’re a little pervert, too.”

You wriggle, impatient. “How was I s’posed to know that? I’ve never gone this far before.”

He moans, face burning and cock twitching, half-hard again.

“Already?” you laugh, echoing your own question from earlier. “You just came.”

“I don’t wanna think about you bein’ a virgin,” he mumbles. “I’ll come again.”

You can’t help the disbelief that falls out of you in broken giggles. “You got a thing for virgins?”

He sighs roughly, shaking his head as though you’re not understanding. “Not virgins. You bein’ a virgin.” His cock twitches again. “Damn it,” he groans. “You got me worked up again.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you examine him more closely. “You wanna take my virginity that bad, Tsumu?”

He glares at you through his eyelashes. “Cut it out, Y/n.”

“You wanna be the one to fuck me?” Your breath is short, and your heart is beating everywhere at once. You know that this never crossed either of you minds before this week, but you had always known.

You’d always known he was possessive.

You wonder – despite it being annoying at the time – if you’d always liked that about him.

Will you regret it if it’s not him?

“Y/n,” he warns, breath sharper than yours. 

“You wanna be the first, Tsumu?”

You don’t know why you’re pushing this so hard, but you do know that every thought about it being him is making that needy ache worse and worse.

“Don’t do this to me,” he mumbles, almost begging.

“Do you like it, Tsumu?” you whisper, your back arching and your thighs spreading wide. You know that what he can see – your skirt, hiked up around your hips, and his shirt, falling over your breasts when you push them out for him – is turning him on again, his gaze taking you in wildly before he glares at you.

“Stop it,” he bites, but his voice comes out needy when you reach down between you and take his cock in your hand, sliding your palm against him gently. 

“Do you like being the only one who’s seen me like this?” You press your thumb against the head, watching him shiver. When he opens his mouth to protest, you bring him to your entrance, watching as the thought leaves his mind completely when he feels you.

“I-” he stumbles over his thoughts, eyes glued to where he’s pressed against you. “I thought you wanted… I was gonna take care of you-”

“You can take care of me like this,” you breathe, body craving him in a way it never has before. “But only if you say it, Tsumu.”

His eyes find yours, that honey color turned to a deep, molten brown. “What’dyou want me to say, Y/n?” he breathes, defeated. “You want me to admit it?”

“Yes,” you beg, pushing your core down onto him gently and watching his lips part at the feeling. “I wanna hear it.”

You want to hear him say it.

Atsumu leans down over you carefully, elbow braced next to your head while he tangles his other hand in your hair. His lips brush yours.

“I want it to be me,” he whispers. “And no matter who you go home with for the rest of your life-” He pushes his lips to yours, finishing his sentence in your mouth. “I want to know that I was first.” You gasp hard against his mouth, and he drops his lips to your ear. 

“I want you to think about me every time.”

You moan his name, listening to it echo off the walls. “Please, Atsumu-” Your breath stutters, and your hips move against him, speaking for you. “Please-”

When he slips past your entrance, it’s with a sigh that signals more than just his relief.

“This is mine first,” he breathes, pushing slow and steady until his hips are snug against yours.

“You were mine first.”

[taglist]

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[lavenderhateswritting]

Heyyyyy so I lap up angst like a starving raccoon so could we mayhaps get the batkid’s reactions to your divorcee reader and Bruce’s separation? Ik in the original hc post you did you said that people had been asking/wondering why reader hadn’t left yet, so maybe seeing which Batfam members were on team divorce and which (if any) were on team parent-trap. If you we’re already planning on doing that, I was also wondering how Reader reacted to Jayson’s death and subsequent revival and how he handled Red Hood and the dynamics between his son and (then) hubby.

No pressure on this, I just love this idea and pretty don’t see people tackling Bruce’s serial rouge-kissing habits in the batmom/dad fics. I rlly love your take on it!!

I will totally be writting the fanfic about BatDad, Bruce and Jason's dynamic later because I would love to think about what that absolute mess will look like

Dick

Dick in my opinion was the person who was the most conflicted when it came to the divorce.

On one hand he had known you for as long as he had known Bruce and in his head you and Bruce were one connected entity. You worked off eachother well and supported each other. You stopped Bruce from going to far over the edge, constantly pulling him, away from the brink of obsession. He remembered watching you take care of Bruce on his worst nights and stich up both of them when they came home from rough missions. You guys worked well together and loved each other or at least he thought you did when he was younger.

Because on the other hand as he got older he started to realize that maybe it wasn't you both supporting each other, maybe it was just you supportng Bruce. You making sure Bruce didn't die. You making sure Bruce kept up with his civilian life. You forgiving Bruce after he found another way to let you down.

When he and Bruce were at their worst so angry that they couldn't even be in the same room together you still found a away to keep in touch. Half the time he was running around with the Titans blowing up at people over the smallest things and you still tried to invite him over for dinner. God. He just assumed you'd always be there even when he blew up at you or ignored your calls for weeks on end.

A world without you and Bruce together seemed impossible to imagine in a way, even after he realized it would probably be better for you if you and Bruce did divorce.

Jason

Jason was against you two getting a divorce probably the most out of anyone else.

He had seen you and Bruce at your best. His days in the manor were filled with you two takig him to school and museums. He remembered walking into the kitchen for breakfast and seeing Bruce fumble through trying to help you while you laughed at him. In his head you guys were perfect especially when compared to the relationship he saw between Catherine and Willis. You and Bruce loved eachother and often didn't even argue in front of him.

He also idealizes you and Bruce's relationship in the same way he idealizes everything before his death. The negative moments have been smoothed over with time and he rarely sees you two together anymore so there's nothing to prove him wrong in his idea.

For his enitre life even after his death you and Bruce were his example of what love was. He watched you two together and he truly believed that maybe someday he could love someone the way you two loved. Hearing about the divorce is kinda like realizing that maybe even the moments of his life he truly thought were good weren't.

How many times were you and Bruce angry at eachother, but didn't want to argue in front of him? How many nights did he walk into Bruce sleeping at his desk because he wasn't allowed back into the bedroom? How much of Batman's private talks with Catwoman were betrayals of your trust?

It makes him have to come to terms with the real sadness you were experiencing with a child and how even the best parts of his childhood weren't nearly as good as he thought.

Tim

Tim was anti divorce because he really didn't want to think about how Bruce would fall a part without you.

He saw Bruce after Jason died and you had nearly completly withdrawn from the relationship. He had to make sure that Bruce was okay and Bruce was pulling his punches because Bruce had lost his son and had basically lost his husband. He knows what Bruce does when you aren't their for him he spent his time making sure that Bruce without you didn't die.

So he doesn't want you two to get divorce and he even found out where you were staying to try and convince you to take Bruce back. Which did not work and just left you both in a screaming match.

You and Tim are both in seprate parts of your journey to realizing that it isn't your job to make sure Bruce is okay. In a way it frustrates him because he thought he understood you the most out of anyone. Others were wondering when you two would finally break it off and why you commited your life to Bruce, but he understood the fight to keep Batman alive even if it cut into your own life.

He gets even more upset with you as Bruce begins to fall a part in your absence. In his head you two were on a mission together and you just left. Tim likely doesn't get in contact with you for a long time after the divorce and if you guys do talk he's very short and to the point. I don't think the relationship gets better until he's later into his adult life and finally realizing he can't spend his life looking out for Bruce.

"Do you think he can ever get better." He asks you after crawling onto your balcony one night.

"I don't know, maybe, if he really wanted to, but you know its not your job to get him to that point its his." You guys sit there for a while and then he leaves and starts getting in contact more often.

Damian

Damian was pro divorce.

He had no about you as a person outside of the road bloack you had acted as towards his mother and father's relationship. He acts older than he is, but he is still a child and in a way wanted his parents to be together at the end of the day.

Whe he meets you he's even more pro the divorce. In his eyes you're weak and you make his father weak. You aren't a capable fighter or hyper inteligent like the rest of the family you're just a normal person and to him that makes you largely useless.

I think there are times when he is a little jealous about the way his other siblings describe the family and manor before the divorce. Outside of Tim and Jason most people could see the writing on the wall, but they still missed you. Dick was constantly talking about the way you would give him pep talks after bad nights out or fights with Bruce. Tim rarely talked about you, but when he did it was obvious that he found a kenship with you that ran deep even if he denied it. Jason acted like you were a saint who had never done anything wrong in your life which Damian doubted. Barbra talked about the nights you spent together cordinating the ever growing opperation across the city. Stephanie remembered how when she was just starting you truly did try your best to get Bruce to give her a chance and help her. Cassandra described you as kind and troubled even on your best days and Duke seemed to like you more than he liked Bruce most days.

There was a connection they all had to you that led to family dinners at your new home and late night meetups to talk about fears and hopes before the city called for them again. He didn't have that at least not with you and the mansion felt like a ghost town most nights.

Barbra

Barbra was pro divorce and had been for years at the point it happened.

She was further away from the situation than Dick and the rest of the boys and that's likely what made it obvious to her that you and Bruce simply didn't work. She watched as you forgave him constantly without ever being sure that he wouldn't hurt you again. Bruce was terrible for you and she was not going to let you pretend otherwise.

Barbra was around as long as Dick, but she wasn't burdened with nostalgia about the relationship. She watched as Bruce's lifestlye made it nearly impossible for you to have friends who cared about you and not just friends who were friends of Bruce. She watched while you were cheated on multiple times. She watched you have breakdowns next to Bruce's unconcious battered body wondering if he would ever wake up again.

She was very open about the dislike she had towards you two together she wasn't subtle either. She would send you links to divorce lawyers, couples therapy, or anonymous groups for failing marriages. She liked you and for a long time you and her were the ones who worked closest together. She didn't like watching Bruce breakdown what little of you there was left.

Sometimes she would watch you and Bruce together and think maybe she was wrong. Maybe there was love their that was great enough to come back from past failures. But the Bruce would break your heart again and she would be reminded of why you needed to leave.

Stephanie

Stephanie was pro divorce and she has said that to Bruce's face.

Stephanie didn't have the blinders on about Bruce being an amazing father or mentor because of the way he treated her when she first began to fight crime. During her short time as Robin she watched the way he treated you and it was just another check in the reasons why Batman is an ass list. Because for all the kindness and understanding that you showed Bruce he had a habit of acting like you being their was expected like it was your job to take care of him.

Stephanie and Bruce argued often and she has on multiple occasions called a cheater/manwhore who was going to be divorced. In her defense she definitely called it. She liked you and it frustrated her that you allowed for Bruce to just bulldoze over your life for so long.

After the divorce she definitely went to your house and said she was there to cheer you. It devolved into you both bitching about the worst moments in your relationships with Bruce and calling him an ass.

She's happy for you. Proud that you finally found a way out of it all.

Cassandra

Cassandra was pro divorce.

She had a view of Bruce that was developed through him saving her and showing her a path in life toward being a person she could be proud of. I think that Bruce's relationship with you was definitely a moment for her where she learned that Bruce was better as a symbol than a person most days.

She watched the way the days weighed on you. She could see the exhaustion in your body even when you were happy. She could also tell that you and Bruce loved eachother. You and Bruce were madly in love with eachother, but that didn't really change anything. She was pro divorce from the moment she saw you two together to be honest.

She also worried because she and Bruce were so alike. They both had a devotion to the cause that others at times found hard to understand. In a way I think she started to worry about what someone who fell in love with her would have to deal with because she didn't want to treat them like Bruce treated you.

I'd like to think she has on multiple occasions grabbed your are and told you its okay to leave. She was very happy for you when you finally did.

Holy shit this was a long one. I'm sorry for not adding Duke I just really haven't read anything with him in it and I have no clue how he acts

[bunny-jpeg]

boxers

simon 'ghost' riley

cw: smut/pwp, boxing au, boxer!simon, injury/bruises, protective!simon, size difference, unprotected sex, cowgirl position, gentle sex, simon luvs his missus,

you liked strong men. strong however was a broad definition. thought a man could be strong in a lot of ways, not just physical. strong convictions, strong emotionally, there were many examples.

but when you started seeing simon, you were enthralled by his physical strength. he wasn't some eight pack having, dehydrated mess. he was bulky, which was good for what he did.

punch the living daylights out of other boxers.

wide shoulders, a softness in his stomach, strong arms with one lined with tattoos. not to mention those thighs, he could crush a watermelon with them if you asked nicely (no, he wasn't going to crush your head). the facial scars add a scary look as did those dark eyes of his.

despite it, simon was a total sap.

at least to you, no one else. god forbid johnny or any of the others. but when it was just the two of you, he was a big puppy. you once described him as a huge german shepherd who thought he was a lap dog.

simon simply said, "just be glad i don't wanna sit on your lap, love. i'll break ya." then pulled you to him to give you a kiss on the forehead. he'd never hurt you though, he'd rather take his own life than yours.

and you loved him back, even with his loud snoring, you still adored him. you thought that he was the perfect boyfriend. which was why it hurt so much when he came home late at night with bruises on his face.

"si."

he dropped his bag and let you get in his arms. he kissed the top of your head lovingly. and welcomed your embrace. the man had enough fractures and scars. so to see another shiny bruise only left you feeling sad.

you brought him to the kitchen by his hand and sat him down at the kitchen table. he looked so large in the small space, which really highlighted your size difference.

"c'mon, pretty thing." he said as held out his arms to you.

you looked over your shoulder from the freezer, "give me a second, honey. i need to find the frozen peas."

simon groaned. he wanted to touch his woman. he cursed the universe that the frozen peas were in the back of the freezer. you managed to grab the bag before you turned to your boyfriend.

you sat in his lap and pressed the frozen vegetable to his bruised face, "poor baby." you cooed as you gave the bag to him.

he hissed a little at the feeling of it against the heat of the bruise. you rested your head on top of his and held him close to your chest

"do i need to talk to anyone?"

he chuckled, "no, love. i just need you right now. i wanna feel my woman." he nuzzled up against your chest. he even kissed the little gold chain around your neck.

eventually the peas started to melt and you put them back in the freezer. however with your back turned to your lover, you didn't notice his approach towards you.

he cornered you against the fridge with his large, scarred hands on your hips. he let out a shudder, "i need you." his voice sounded a little strained.

you swallowed as you kept your hands on the front of the fridge. you could feel his cock pressed against your ass. the rush was the fight was wearing off, but he needed another release.

"you could've just asked, riley."

he curved his back over you to lean in to kiss your neck. his hands traveled north to your breasts and groped them. the flesh filled his hands, his grip was a little rough. but, you didn't mind that.

"i know, love. but i couldn't find the words. i just needed you." his voice was like driving over gravel. it left you hot all over.

you blushed a bit at his words. you turned so you front was facing him. you took his face in your hands and brought him in to kiss his bruise. you said, "si-"

"please." he said as he curled an arm around you middle and brought you closer to him. your hands were splayed across his broad chest. he pulled you into a kiss and you had to get on your tip-toes to meet his lips.

he held you by your middle, his strong arms draped around your waist. he groaned against the kiss, "mine." his voice was as light as it could be.

you really had no choice. it was either you fucked on the bed or up against the fridge. and you knew the landlord would not want to deal with that. so you got out of your boxer boyfriend's grasp and took him by the hand. then you practically dragged him to your shared bedroom.

his eyes were on you as you walked. he felt his cock stir in his pants. you were just so good to him. you were the perfect girl for him. it made him smirk to himself even if it did hurt a little.

he watched your beautiful body on display for him as you tugged off the oversized shirt (that belonged to simon) and baggy sweatpants (that were yours, because his were two sizes too big!). he put his hands on your hips, feeling the softness under his finger tips.

he leaned in a down at you and kissed your cheek. he squeezed your hips and groaned against you, "pretty girl." you trailed your fingers through his blond hair.

your core throbbed for him, your heart leapt when he got a better grip on you and almost tossed you onto the bed. you bounced a little and laughed. "simon! no need!"

"i need ya love, you were takin' too long." he quickly got his shirt off. he hit his nose in the hustle of it all, but was too wrapped up in his deep lust for you that he didn't even wince at the pain, "c'mon, love. either you get them off, or i'm rippin' em of!"

usually he liked to slowly take off your bra and panties, but tonight was an inferno. a huge fire that burned in his core. his heart thumped as he go the buckle of his belt off and he slid the leather off from his waist. he watched you hastily get your underwear off and laid underneath him.

"i wanna see my girl on top." he said as he leaned in for a searing kiss and grabbed you to put you on top of him while he laid on the bed. you were both naked, two pieces of the same puzzle.

you moved so your pussy brushed up against him. he let out a choked groan as you didn't fully sink down him. he could feel his heart up into his throat.

it should be illegal for you to do that, and punishment for it is to get dicked down for five hours.

"like that, si?"

"if i wasn't so worry about breakin' ya, you'd already be ridin' it." he loved when you were on top. the sight of your eyes on him as you hold onto him for a leverage as you rode him.

"si." you smiled as you splayed your hands on his chest and sank down onto his cock. you could feel your heart in your throat as you sank yourself down on his impressive size. you choked out a moan and felt the pleasure pollute your head.

"that's it, baby girl." he said softly. his voice was a rumble in the back of your head like thunder. he guided your hips. he wanted to see close to his missus.

your big scary boyfriend. close to being the number one fighter in the league. the big shot. the ghost. there he laid under you, his eyes closed and his body melting into the bed. his hands your hips as he slowly guided them up and down. your cunt felt like a comfortable vice around him, he could hear the hitch in your breathing when he hit just the right spot.

what a beauty, the most loveliest woman he had ever laid his eyes on. that's why you were his woman, the only one he wanted. through hell and high water, to the moon and back. he kept his hand steady on your waist as you moved up and down on his cock.

you could hear your heart thumping in your ears from the blood rush of having sex with him. the most handsome man you ever had the privilege of loving. you held onto him for support as you raised and lowered your hips against pelvis.

you felt the curl of pleasure in your gut as his cock prodded at your most intimate parts. he felt so right. that was your man, as you leaned in and kissed him on the lips, you felt the inferno in your gut.

you felt hot and heavy all over, you felt the rush of pleasure echo through your body as you moved against him. he was your simon, the bloodied boxer, the ghost of the ring. he came home to you every night, he kissed you until you fell asleep in his arms, he brought you home flowers on tuesdays and always cooked dinner on sundays.

that was your charming bloke who punched people for a living. with his scars on his cheeks and lips, the crookedness of his nose, those piercing brown eyes and all the love he could give you. while he didn't believe it was much, it was more than you ever wanted.

"si"

"love."

you pulled him in for another hot kiss as you bounced more on his cock. the stabbing of his cock in you made you feel lightheaded, there was so much to fit in you. everything about simon felt big, from the meat on his shoulders to the width of them. his strong arms that were now wrapped around your middle, to of course his cock that was filling any gap in your pussy.

you dug your nails into his tanned skin and you let out a loud moan as simon clutched onto you and continued to push his cock up into you. it made you see stars as he moved.

"that's my woman." he huffed, "bright beauty." his voice drew as he bounced you on his cock. even if the pain in his face was still there, the sight and feeling of you around his cock managed to dull the pain. who thought pussy was a good cure for a bruise.

he pulled you closer to him, until your chest was against his. simon bent his knees and got a different angle to hit the back of your soaked cunt, "been thinkin' about my missus all evening. probably why my game got thrown off. was thinkin' about this sweet treat rather than johnny's punches." he chuckled as he managed to fuck you faster.

you whined, you didn't want to be the cause of simon getting hurt. but he quieted you down with a searing kiss. he didn't need to hear that, he wanted to hear your pussy getting fucked by him.

the angle made your head a little dizzy as you tried to keep some more of control. but it was too late, simon had already dominated your little pussy yet again. it was alright though, the feeling left shivers through your body.

he continued to make out with you, the kisses were sloppy and needy. it made your cunt ache as he rocked into you. the bed shifted under you two as you continued to make love.

simon loved you. he'd never hurt a hair on your head, even a chipped nail was a cause of concern for him. he kissed at you hot face as he felt you grow tense around him.

a few hard thrusts later and you were clamping down on him, orgasm pulled from you and you felt hot all over. the pleasure left your head swimming. you panted wildly as he continued to move against you.

he gave you filthy praise as he felt his own orgasm come over him. with a heavy thrust into you, he slammed his cock all the way into you and finished. spurts of cum hit the inside of your pussy and he left out a harsh grunt.

he dropped his arms down onto the bed and laid fully out. you clung to him and his cum clung to your pussy lips. you both laid there, basking in each other's embrace.

you leaned up and kissed him gently on his bruise, "my boxer." your fingers dragged down his chest, "you have to be careful. i hate when my man gets hurt." you kissed him on the cheek under the bruise, "i need you to come back to me in one piece."

simon's cock soon slipped out of your pussy and you softly kissed him on the lips. he said to you between kisses, "i always come home to my love. i love you so much." his words were like honey that melted to your core.

you laid in each other's hold. he had been a fighter all his life, but now he was simply yours. wrapped up in the comforts of bed, the bruises would heal but your love for him would be eternal. <3

[sourinartt]

I will never tire of saying that Ennis and Naruto are so similar, even their own fandom sometimes catches them for not having enough courage to clarify their sexuality and be with the man they love

It is difficult when Jack and Sasuke accept their homosexuality, they have no problems and although they know that some will not like it, they always plan to do something to be with Naruto/Ennis

I'm sure Sasuke knows that if the village discovered their sexuality it would be a mess, but he wouldn't care. But the problem would be that Naruto WOULD care.

Naruto always lived off what others would say, he is always panicking because he cares about other opinions, what they might think of him, because he believes he must be "perfect" so that others do not distance themselves from him and he is not left alone again.

Ennis is afraid because he saw what they did to gay men and he didn't want to end up like that, so he also cares about other people's opinions, that's why, at the slightest opportunity he "leaves" his homosexuality and being able to marry the first woman he found made him something that Naruto also does

They are not happy, but it is the life they want to lead so as not to raise suspicions, Both have "perfect" wives who love them, care for them, take care of their children, but they are not happy. Ennis is frustrated and unhappy and his only happiness is when Jack calls him again, Does this remind you of something? Of course it does, Naruto always lived frustrated, tired and his only happiness is when Sasuke calls him again so they can see each other.

Jack and Ennis see each other secretly and some time ago Kishimoto also emphasized that Naruto and Sasuke see each other at night or at least we know that they eat together at Sasuke's favorite restaurant.

What I'm getting at is that both of them are objectified a lot because they are not clear when it comes to stating that they love their said love and they simply remain cowed

Something that many say is that Naruto can't be gay because he has two children, that means he fucked twice with hnt, If we leave aside that this is much more for Boruto's fame, in the movie Brokeback Mountain it can also be explained

The homosexual man can become the father of as many children as he wants, but he will not stop being homosexual, he will only continue to be frustrated and tired until he finally gets fed up.

Ennis always seems tired of everything, the one who seeks him out for such things would be his wife, there is a scene that I obviously won't put here but it explains how he probably had his daughters, and he simply never looks at his wife, every time they both have to have sex Ennis turns his wife around so as not to see her face

They will never make me stop thinking that Naruto didn't do this, because of course he did it to create two sad children, He had them in his youth, his era of repression and melancholy, also counting the departure of Sasuke

After he finally becomes an adult, he simply disappears from his home.

I feel that Ennis' character explains repressed sexuality quite well, especially that of a homosexual man, something that reminds me of the adult and young Naruto

Obviously they are not the same, they have different things, the things that Ennis did, Naruto would not do, like for example, living with the thought that Sasuke died and is no longer in his life.

ooo attacking his wife even though he's stressed lol

[ncttytrack]

"Not your type?" - l.hs (m)

“Oh, Sweetheart.” He says and looks at you with a massive smirk, his hand never leaving your soft cheek. “I heard everything"

Summary: Your new summer job was great. The salary was great and the scenery was beautiful. But what made the job perfect, was your hot older co-worker Lee Heeseung, who you swear is not your type.

Genre: SMUT, Co-worker!Heeseung x reader.

Words: 3,7k+

Warnings: HardDomHeeseung, Heeseung is lowkey mean, chocking, creampie, lowkey size kink, degradation kink!!!, reader is lowkey a masochist...

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☠︎︎♡︎☠︎ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙︎ ☠︎︎♡︎☠︎ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☠︎︎♡︎☠︎ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

You load dirty spoons and plates Into the dishwasher, sweat running down your neck. It was a hot summer day, and while the average person your age is down by the beach sunbathing, you are working at your new restaurant job. When you applied, you didn’t actually think you would get it, but here you are during your vacation from college. Not that you could really complain, it is a nice restaurant you are working at by the coast. It’s always sunny, you are surrounded by people wearing little to no clothing because of the hot weather, and the nearest sea is just about ten meters away from you. The perfect summer job for someone who is in a desperate need for money. 

But there is one thing that makes working there difficult. 

The first day on your job, your boss wanted an experienced college to help you out. For example, showing you how to load the dishwasher, the different courses on the menu, what you should do after the restaurant closes - and so on and so forth. What you didn’t know however, is that the man getting the “help the new coworker” mission, would be the hottest man you have ever seen in your life. 

Lee Heeseung.

When Heeseung showed you around on your first day, it felt like you became 16 again. Every time his eyes met yours your whole body would tingle, only being able to look into his eyes for 3 seconds before looking away. Every time he asked you a question, you became a stuttering mess trying to compose yourself. It was really difficult, and because you two always seemed to get the same shifts, you couldn’t avoid him either. Not that he seemed to complain, he probably loved the attention he got from you. That is what you at least internally tell yourself. 

You did however get close to some of the people working at the restaurant over the last two months, one of them being your now close friend Sunoo who was your age. That is what is peculiar about this working place, everyone is about the same age. Over the age of 17, but younger than 24. And because of the young staff, it wasn’t an unusual thing that people hooked up with each other. And the first time you heard about it from Sunoo, you couldn’t help it but get almost too excited.

“Are you serious!?'' You shout with a shocked expression, the food you chew almost flying out of your mouth. Sunoo laughs, putting a hand right in front of his mouth. “Yeah, it's true! And can you please whisper, we don’t want the others knowing what we are talking about”. You look at him with big eyes, before looking around making sure that people aren’t listening to your conversation. 

You lean in and begin to whisper. “Like who?” Sunoo leans in as well, right by your ear. “Which ones have hooked up with each other? Well where should I even start. Um, well there was this one time with Yujin and Jay, and oh! Yunjin and Hee-“ you cut him off abruptly, not wanting him to mention Heeseung. 

You lean back beside him, trying to act casual. “Yeah I get it, I get it, you don’t need to continue!” You look away from him, but Sunoo looks at you. “What, do you like Heeseung? Y/n…” He says and punches your shoulder playfully. Your face turns beet red, trying not to unveil the secret you so desperately have been hiding for the two months working here. 

“What do you mean? Heeseung? Nooo he is like, sooo not my type” You say trying to sound convincing. “Not your type?” Sunoo says, not convinced by your false statement. Instead of answering him, you look away and shake your head confidently. 

Sunoo suddenly smiles teasingly, grabbing your arm and leans in. Because of his sudden touch, you look at him surprised. He maybe leaned in a little too much, though he is so close that you can feel his breath tingling your neck.

“You know what I think?” He says slowly, making sure to pronounce every syllable, and looks at you with innocent eyes. You get nervous, not knowing what he is about to say and try to look away. “What?”

His smile gets bigger, and he continues while having a teasing pout on his lips. 

“I think that you want big, sexy, Heeseung to grab your tiny, little, fragile body, push it against the hard wall of the storage room and manhandle you with,“ he makes his voice lighter, trying to mimic yours “his, big, manly hands, and strong arms”

Your mouth gapes open and you begin to laugh nervously, hitting Sunoo playfully several times until he backs away from you. You shake your head. “No! No! It’s not true!”

He looks at you and laughs while hitting the table in front of you. “Are you serious? You are lyiiiing! That is totally what you want!” You shake your head “No! I promise I-“. 

Before you can continue defending yourself, you get interrupted by Sunoo rolling back his eyes. “OhmaGAWD, You are so BIG! Don’t stawp Heeseungie-“ 

Sunoo suddenly stops, and look away at someone standing in front of your table. You slowly look towards the same direction Sunoo is looking. You begin to internally panic. 

“Um I think your 30 minute lunch break is over”. 

It’s Heeseung. 

You and Sunoo look at each other. 

Omg, did he hear all that? 

Heeseung is looking at you two confused, did he interrupt something? 

“I mean, I need to get my lunch break too” Hee continues, looking down on the salad he picked out. He seemed…nervous? Before you could make this situation even more awkward, you and Sunoo quickly grab your dirty dishes and walk away trying to ignore Heeseung's intense gaze. 

You could hear Sunoos' quiet laughter beside you while walking away from Heeseung. You look at him.“Promise me to never do that again Sunoo! And why are you laughing!” You whisper-scream trying to sound intimidating. “What?” He laughes, “It was sooo funny!” 

You look at him with a worried expression. “But what if he heard everything?” 

“So what! Just wait until the next Friday-night shift you have with him, drink the last 30 minutes at closing, and see what happens!” 

You look at him, smiling. “Are you allowed to drink on the job?” Sunoo looks at you and grabs your shoulder. “I don’t know? But what I do know, is that amongst the older coworkers-“ he points his finger towards Heeseung and the others, “it’s a Friday-tradition, and if you want what I think you want…then you know what to do” He says and winks, walking away to help a customer. 

And here we are, the Friday night shift. It would be embarrassing to admit, but the night before you did a 3 hour long everything-shower. Every inch of your body was shaved, scrubbed and cleaned. You were partially oozing vanilla. You hope that if something happens he doesn’t acknowledge the small wound you got from shaving too enthusiastically. Even though you put on matching underwear, an inch of you silently hopes that nothing happens. What if something goes wrong? What if you do something wrong? You try not to get too anxious, afraid that the nervous sweating will smell more than the perfume you put on this morning.

The final customer walks out of the restaurant, and you look at the clock. It’s exactly 30 minutes before the shift ends, which means it’s cleaning and drinking time. 

“Is it your first time on a Friday-shift?” The voice behind you, surprises you, making you do a small jump out of fear while looking over your shoulder. Heeseung looked down on you with an amused expression. “Did I scare you? Sorry I didn’t mean it” You try to say anything, but the scary thought of you stuttering is enough for you to stay quiet. You tap your foot on the ground trying to fill out  the quiet atmosphere while looking away. 

Heeseung tilts his head, while biting his lips, trying to hold in his laughter. Why is she so cute? “Um… So..If you don’t know already, we have a tradition where we drink during cleaning so it makes it more fun. I mean, it is Friday soo” You look up at him again trying to act as if you don’t know about the “tradition” - as if Sunoo didn’t tell you a week before. “Oh, well, that sounds fun?” You answer. 

Heeseung looks at you with bright eyes, turns around and grabs two glasses of beer, probably around 50ml, and hands it to you. "Perfect! You drink beer, right?” He says and looks at you. To be honest beer is the least you want to drink right now, but not wanting to be a burden, you take the big glass. You press it against your mouth, looking up into his eyes, while swallowing a big gulp of beer. You feel the bitter drink hit your tastebuds. Heeseung takes a deep breath, looking at your lips while you swallow the beer. Does she know what she is doing? 

You put down the glass, it is already half empty. “It tastes better than what I imagined!” You say, feeling the courage entering your body with every second because of the alcohol. Before Heeseung can answer, you pick up the glass again, only for him to take it from you. You look up at him irritated “I think you might slow down on that, the beer is extra strong and we don’t want any…accidents”. Heeseung says, bringing his hand up, laying it on your cheek. His thumb strokes your top lip, swiping away foam left from the beer. Your breath hitches, and you stop moving. Heeseung's hand leaves your cheek, before walking away, leaving you with a beating heart. 

Your body is swaying to the music coming from the speaker Sunghoon brought from home. The Broom you are holding gets heavier, the alcohol making your body weaker every minute. You don’t really remember how much you drank. Was it two glasses? Maybe Three? You don’t really care. All the staff members working this shift seem to be having a great time. Jay and Sunghoon were singing their brains out while putting up chairs on the tables, and Jake leaned towards the wall, holding his drink while laughing at his friends. You try to look around for Heeseung, but you can’t see him anywhere. 

Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder, and you look back to see Heeseung looming over you. Why does he always sneak up on me like this? 

He looks at you with an innocent smile, pointing back at delivery boxes filled with vegetables and meat. “It seems like the food supplies are here, do you mind helping me load the boxes into the storage room?”  He says. The storage room? Omg the storage room! That’s where the hook-ups that Sunoo talked about happen! You look at him trying to calm yourself, hoping he didn’t notice your body reaction to the word ‘storage room’. You look at him, confident enough to talk back without stuttering. “It seems like I am done cleaning the floor, so I can help you” 

He looks down on you, grabs the broom from your hand and leans it against the nearest wall. “Well come on then”. He says, picking up two boxes, and walks away, signaling you to follow him. You do so, lifting a heavy box with vegetables in the process. 

The storage room is in the far back of the restaurant, and it’s now when it finally hits you that you two are completely alone. Even the others were too far away for you to hear, and only the music from the speaker was the sound reaching your eardrums. Trying to do your best, you turn around towards the shelves, stacking up cucumbers and carrots. 

While opening up the second bag a hand suddenly leans on the shelf in front of you. You already know who it was, but decide to look back anyway, thinking he needs to stack up this shelf as well. Heeseung is looking down on you, his other hand resting in his pocket before bringing it up and grabbing your chin - making you look up at him. You could smell the alcohol from his lips, and you were super close, only a few inches keeping you apart. “W-what are you doing?” You say almost pathetic, as if you already don’t know the answer. 

Heeseung lets out a small laugh and bites his lips. “I think you know, not that you should be complaining” You look at him confused, before realizing what he might mean. He looks at you and sighs, leaning down right beside your ear and whisper sensually. “I think you want big, sexy, Heeseung to grab your tiny, little, fragile body and push it against the hard wall of the storage room and manhandle you with his big, manly, hands and stroooong arms. Or isn’t that what Sunoo said?” You look back at him trying to object before feeling his hand leave your chin and meet your lower back, pushing you towards the shelves, making you drop the bag of cucumbers on the floor. He pushes his leg between yours, rubbing it against your core to tease you. 

You try not to let out a moan, bringing up your hand in front of your mouth to muffle the sound. “Don’t think you can hide those sweet sounds from me princess” Heeseung says and grabs both of your wrists and puts them above your head. His other hand is now playing with the hem of your shirt, slightly brushing against the side of your stomach. Too drunk by his touch, the only thing leaving your lips are your heavy breaths. Heeseung grabs your waist and pushes you harder down against his leg, making you grind on him. The sudden friction is making you moan, and you tilt your head back to lean on his shoulder. His hand now leaves your waist and unbutton your shorts, sliding his hand over your panties. 

A smirk forms on his lips when he can feel how soaked you are, and only from using his leg. He lightly touches your core with the tip of his fingers, making you let out a small hiss. Getting inpatient, he turns your body around making you face him and he let goes of your wrists. He grabs your shorts harshly, pulling them down with your panties in one go. You gasp by the sudden movement while Heeseung crouches down so he is eye-level with your core.

While licking his lips, he puts his finger between your folds. “Aww, baby, you are completely soaked already!” He says amused, trying to hold himself back so he doesn’t tear you apart then and there. Not wanting to wait anymore, you let out a small groan. “I know, I know, baby. Heeseungie is going to take care of you ok? Do you want that?” He says and looks up at you while rolling his head to the side, his fingers still lightly touching your folds. You desperately shake your head and down. To your surprise, he stands up and grabs your chin. “Use your words baby, only good girls get what they want.” You look at him with pleading eyes, hoping that he would spare you from the embarrassment. 

He suddenly slaps you hard against your check, making your gasp. “I said use your words y/n” he says, his soft voice not matching his hard demeanor. He grabs your chin harshly. “Hee, please, I really want you” He looks at you and shakes his head. “I’m not sure I understand, what do you want me to do baby?” 

You can’t take it anymore. Your whole body is aching for his touch, and the only thing you want right now is Heeseungs cock buried deep inside of you. You look up at him with tears in your eyes. “I want you to fuck me”

Heeseung wraps his hand harshly around the back of your neck, and pushes your head towards his, passionately kissing you. His tongue slides in your mouth while you feel his hand massaging your clit. You leave his lips, letting out a moan by the feeling of his rough hand pleasuring you. He takes off your shirt, not sparing a single second before unclipping your bra. He starts licking your nipple while his hand starts massaging the other. Cum is dripping down your leg and he kisses you down your stomach down your thigh. He drags his tongue against your leg to taste your cum, from your inner thigh up to your core, pushing his nose up to smell you. “Mm, baby, you smell so sweet”. 

You feel his tongue circling your clit, making your head fall back towards the hard shelf behind you. Your hands grab his soft hair, a feeling Heeseung can’t get enough of, he loves how good he makes you feel, and how weak you are for his touch. Wanting to bring it one step further, Heeseung pushes his tongue inside your soaked pussy, making sure to push it as far in as possible. His hands grab your thighs harshly for support, and you roll your eyes back at the feeling. You know his harsh touch is going to leave bruises tomorrow. Heeseung speeds up his pace, using his nose to touch your clit while his tongue is deep inside of you. You begin to feel a clump in your stomach, and by the way you are pulling Heeseungs hair he knows you are close.

But then, he stops. You look down on him, disappointed and confused. “Why did you stop? I was so clo-“, before you can finish your sentence, Heeseung stands up and turns your body around. He leans down towards your ear “Don’t think we are stopping yet”. His nose brushes against your neck. He takes a deep breath to take in your sweet vanilla scent, before sucking your neck - making sure to leave a bruise. You tilt your head back, feeling both pain and pleasure from his actions. 

He then stops, unbuckles his belt, and pulls down his pants, and that’s when you feel it.

You feel how his cock teases your wet fold and he is big, really big. At least 9 inches, if not more. Not wanting to wait anymore, You need to feel him inside of you,  you whine “Just fuck me already!”. He slaps your ass, leaving a red mark and making you shut up. “Eager now are we? Don’t forget who is in charge here”

Before you can talk back you feel his cook slowly entering your hole, making you let out a moan. His hands meet your waist, pulling you in on his cook deeper. He is so big that it is actually difficult to take all of him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you begin to bleed because of his size. He is stretching you out completely. “Common princess you can do it”. He says between heavy breaths, encouraging you to take his length completely. “Oh god, you are so tight” He says, pushing the last part of his cock into your pussy. 

He waits a few seconds, so you can adjust his big size, before beginning to slowly slide his entire cock out of you. You look back at him, “Why did you take it ou-“ you say, before he harshly slams it back fast and deep into you. Your body slams on the shelves and you moan from the pain. You are not sure anymore if it is blood or cum sliding down your leg, but you don't care. The only thing you care about is the man behind you, pushing his deep length inside of you. Using you, for his pleasure, like his personal fuck toy. 

Heeseung grabs the front of your neck while he fucks Into your tight little pussy, tilting your head back so he can take over your mouth, and your tits are bouncing with his thrusts. He then stops kissing you, still holding your neck almost shocking you till your light headed. You From the feeling of his large cock ramming into you to his hand on your neck is almost too much for you to handle, and you begin to see black spots forming in front of your eyes as if you are going to pass out from pleasure. “Aww are you about to cum? Do you think Heeseungie should let you cum?” He teases you, not slowing down one bit. 

“Please Hee, please let me cum” You say desperately, trying to hold in your orgasm before Heeseung lets you cum. He fastens his pace and the before steady thrusts turns into sloppy, and you know he is about to cum soon as well. “You want me to fill you up with my cum baby, be my little cum slut?” Sweat is running down his back, and his hand leaves your neck and he instead grabs your waist to deepen his thrusts. 

It’s not long before you both cum, his filling you up and leaking out of you when he pulls out his length. You are breathing heavily, and you feel too weak to stand on your feet. You lean back on Heeseung, your whole body aching because of him, and he hugs you from behind, kissing your neck. You feel his naked sweaty chest on your back, you can’t believe how tal he is compared to you. 

“How much did you actually hear from mine and Sunoos' conversation?” You ask, breaking the silence, while turning around still leaning on his chest. He lets out a slight chuckle, one of his hands holding your waist, helping you stand, and the other grabs your shin. His thumb sliding across your bottom lip, playing with it, wanting to slide it into your mouth. 

“Oh, Sweetheart.” He says and looks at you with a massive smirk, his hand never leaving your soft cheek.

“I heard everything” 

The moment you slam your front door you pick up your phone from your pocket to call Sunoo. “Sunoo, you have NO idea what happened at the shift today”

[danyyytarggg]

HOTD is just a complete mess of a story with such abysmal writing that it’s actually mind-boggling to me that the writers really saw no issue with it.

there is no consistency or continuity to the show, and events seem to happen just to happen with no real impact on the story. examples: why did team green exist before viserys’ death if their motivation was going to be watered down to “viserys named aegon heir”? the show tried to beat in that alicent’s children were not safe under rhaenyra’s rule, further emphasized and solidified by aemond losing his eye; this was supposed to be the main motivation for putting aegon on the throne and the scenes on driftmark were perfect in showcasing the validity in alicent’s fears as well as solidifying alicent’s motivations for aegon. then, it’s all PROMPTLY forgotten in favor of a lame misunderstanding being the reason for aegon taking the throne. so really, what was the point in all that? another example, making aegon such a despicable person in season 1. really, what was the point in that if there was to be no continuity or impact or rhyme or reason for making aegon that way? none of it is ever mentioned again, none of his actions had any sort of impact, etc. no continuity or impact whatsoever, so what was the reason for having such triggering content in season 1? tasteless and disgusting. also, the deaths in this show serve NO impact and are forgotten from the minds of the characters so quickly: visenya, lucerys, jaehaerys, rhaenys, sunfyre (maybe?), the almost-death of aegon - there’s a lack of continuity in emotion and impact. the deaths happen, the characters react somewhat appropriately or not at all, and then they move on to the next episode and everything before is forgotten. ESPECIALLY emphasized by the fact that rhaenyra demanded a son for a son as if jaehaerys wasn’t dead for that exact reason. or helaena urging daemon on in his vision as if he’s NOT the man responsible? aemond caring for, at the very least, his mother and sister? gone. alicent caring for her children so much so that she tried to attack lucerys for aemond and stepped in front of a dragon for aegon? gone. aegon being forced on the throne when he never wanted it? gone and now is being given up by the woman who put him there. daemon being supportive of rhaenyra’s rule by the end of season 1? gone. there also seems to be no impact from the larys x alicent scene from season 1, so WHAT was the point of that?

the characters make absolutely no sense to me at this point. aemond, who cared for alicent and helaena, now cold, callous, power hungry, does not care for family. aemond cares more about his actions against lucerys than his actions against anyone in team green. alicent, who is driven by duty, honor, responsibility, religion and cares for her family, though has trouble showing it due to her trauma - sells out all her family members with the exception of helaena to rhaenyra? then asks rhaenyra to run away with her? huh? also, for the same reasons above, having alicent x criston cole makes no sense without showing us their progression. it just doesn’t make sense for alicent’s character to have a lover without showing us exactly how it all came to be instead of just showing us that it happened. and then for her to casually just bring it up to rhaenyra? alicent would NEVER. helaena attempting to help daemon despite the fact that he’s responsible for the murder of her son. even the sudden shift in helaena’s personality/character in the very last episode gave me whiplash and i’ve been wanting her to have a more substantial role in the plot. baela is continuously used as female reinforcement for everything rhaenyra says or does and as jace’s emotional support (that being said, i LOVE jacela, but baela’s character deserves more than just these two roles). rhaena is given like two or three talking scenes and then the rest is her just chasing after a dragon, leaving behind her younger siblings btw. which, i think having her character find strength and power without having a dragon would have done wonders but okay. aegon, i can’t even take seriously bc of his season 1 actions. same goes for larys. corlys forgetting that rhaena exists as an option for heir of driftmark, as if she isn’t the most deserving of that title.

EVERYTHING being boiled down to pro-rhaenyra. rhaenyra can never be in the wrong about anything. even jace’s very legitimate concerns, baela swooped in to convince him why he’s wrong in feeling the way that he does. rhaenyra imposes a blockade on king’s landing, a known fact, the people starve, she sends food - “rhaenyra remembers us even now!” daemon seeing a vision of rhaenyra on the throne, helaena urging daemon to do what’s right, alicent turning herself in to rhaenyra then asking rhaenyra to run away w her. one of her councilman voicing his concerns to daemon and whether rhaenyra is right for the throne because rhaenyra hasn’t done a single thing, does not attend council meetings, is not protecting her allies, refuses any sort of action at all - then demonizing said councilman even though his concerns are entirely founded. even making team green’s motivation for putting aegon on the throne being from a misunderstanding is inherently pro-rhaenyra. bc if their entire motivation is based on “viserys named aegon heir,” which we know is a misunderstanding, then OBJECTIVELY, team green is in the wrong. rather than going with the safety/protection motivation for team green, which wouldn’t have left them being so objectively in the wrong. and for all the love the show writers give to being pro-rhaenyra, they can’t even write rhaenyra well. she’s indecisive, takes no actions, just continuously begs off to go fight, doesn’t attend council meetings, cannot make a single plan on her own (all of her plans and wins have come from either mysaria or jace), is overall, not a strong or competent leader. after all this, they girlbossify her at the end when, after a whole season of doing basically nothing, she acquires three more dragons (which ALSO wasn’t an entirely smart move).

which can i also complain about the lack of strategy, diplomacy, and wits in the show? everything gets watered down to DRAGONS, which is also why rhaena’s arc is so disappointing imo.

additionally hate the lack of development and depth team black members get. it just all goes to rhaenyra and daemon (and SOMEWHAT jace), and that isn’t even done right. then you have team green who the writers TRY to give depth and development to but completely and utterly fail at creating anything truly meaningful.

lastly, i truly believe rhaenyra x alicent was a mistake, ONLY because the writers don’t know how to write it correctly. i really did enjoy the concept in season 1 until they made their relationship hijack the entire show. because of this, we didn’t get to see rhaenyra vs aegon at their full potential at ALL. it was replaced in favor for rhaenyra x alicent. i also believe this relationship is what screwed over the motivation of team green in the show because alicent needed a “just” reason to betray rhaenyra, therefore giving us the dumb misunderstanding trope. it also keeps either of the characters from diving into the potential their characters both have! it keeps them from engaging in war to its fullest extent! not to mention, having alicent throw away her entire family for rhaenyra is CRAZY. then to have her ask rhaenyra to run away with her? after everything? please. if they didn’t know how to write it in a well-written way, they shouldn’t have done rhaenyra x alicent at all bc i fully believe that it is a large reason as to why the show got so epically ruined with bad writing.

oh also, helaena and alys just spoiling major dance of the dragons plot points? i’m really not a fan of that, personally. and i really don’t know how the show is going to build off of this. it also takes away the impact that these scenes would have left on viewers if never spoiled onscreen.

oh last points promise - jaehaerys and jaehaera continuously NOT being called by their names and instead being called “the boy,” “the girl,” “the child,” angers me so much and is crazy minimization of their characters - probably to lessen the blow and impact of blood and cheese? and gwayne confronting criston cole about him sleeping with his sister, the dowager queen, in public, in front of everyone, with everyone watching? so poorly written and read like a badly written fanfiction on wattpad. the show writers forgetting that alicent x criston cole is very much not allowed in westeros and could get both in such crazy trouble by having that gwayne scene and alicent casually admitting to having a lover to rhaenyra is just bonkers.

[bangtanhoesthings]

Long ask.

Forgive me, this will be all over the place.

I have noticed that over the past few years the hate for the boys has been escalating particularly for Jimin, Jungkook and Joonie.

For Joonie, among other things, because as a leader, if they break him, they might break BTS. (Gosh look at him😭. Has me my man, my man, my man-ning all over the place like a dog in heat, it's embarrassing and a little concerning). Sorry, I digressed but look at him 😭😭😭, y'all don't thirst over this man enough. Woof! 🫦

Anyways, moving on.

For Jungkook, among a plethora of other reasons, because of the unrivaled, unmitigated global success he has had and continues to have (am so proud of my funky lil popstar ✨).

He came, he saw, he conquered. Kicked ass and took names. Ate and left no crumbs. Had them by the neck. Pulled up and shut it down (Somebody stop me 😭)

The way some army attribute his success to the 🛴 guy boils my blood, and that rage is for another day.

This post is towards Jimin.

Jimin's hate is both from outside and inside the fandom ( am not talking about solos, toxic shippers, mantis and the like) but people who claim to be 0T7.

I know that Jimin has had haters for years but the shady tweets I saw during the FACE and MUSE era from so called "ARMY" said a lot. Am not here to debate who is or isn't ARMY. That's for another time.

My question is, why does Jimin's success seem to be a sore spot for some 0T7s? The one reason I have been able to come up with is that Jimin sort of messed up the hierarchy system.

Let me explain and see if I make sense. For a long time, when people thought of the maknae line, no matter the order in which they ranked Tae and Kookie, Jimin was always the third one. Too many posts relegating him to the role of cheerleader and not much else. I saw posts before solo works commenced dismissing the idea that Jimin would ever release an album but would instead fully support the others. Well, he not only released two solo albums, but was also a composer, lyricist among other things, so they can take their opinion and smoke it.

When the solo era started, people had different expectations for what every maknae members would achieve but no matter the expectations, those for Jimin were that he would be third. Bronze medalist if you will.

FACE was released, Like Crazy got to number 1 and I logged off twitter. We were in hell particularly when it went from 1 to 45 after Billboard deleted over 100k sales and changed the rules (thank you Travis Scott for freeing Jimin and finally taking that number 1 spot). The hate from outside was expected, it was when it came from within the fandom that it hurt.

Fast forward to MUSE and it got worse. Sprinkle in a dash of Are You Sure and we have

Here I have a list of things I have noticed

1. An increase in the number of people talking about how they hate PJMs and how they are making them turn against Jimin. Honey, if a solo can make you dislike one member, you aren't sh*t anyway.

2. Dislike for Jimin disguised as dislike for his solos. If you haven't seen it, consider yourself lucky.

3. How sometimes ARMY came in droves when a member didn't achieve something but Jimin did. For example Spotify US. When a new song failed to enter but Jimin's songs increased ( during both LC and Who era).

4. His long run on the hot 100 has really revealed people's true colours. It's not his fault. Blame the fandom for their clear bias.

5. The number of ARMY accounts on X low key calling AYS fanservice.

6. Discourse on Jimin's ability to sing. I don't argue with stupid people.

I could go on and on but what I am trying to say is that in a perfect world, it would be wonderful if all the members had the same support from ARMY. The discrepancy needs to be addressed (caused by a multitude of reasons) but making it a member's fault and not the fandom is asinine.

I used to be a 1D fan and my favourite member to date is the least favourite and successful, Louis Tomlinson but that doesn't mean I hate on Harry, Zayn or Niall for their success. I wouldn't even know where to begin.

What prompted this you may ask? I saw a post talking about Jimin being the company and fandom fave and having special support. Like huh?

All in all what I am trying to say is that Jimin really shook things up and some people resent him for it. That one post (article?) about Jimin bringing out either admiration or envy keeps getting proven right.

Keep supporting this angel for a long and happy life.

What do you think are some other reasons for the increase in the 0T6 agenda against Jimin?

[zevrra]

Hii, i saw u were looking for requests and I was wondering if u could do a jjk x reader (any character is fine) where they get body swapped by a curse and decide to get freaky

[BODY?¿SWAP]

tags: 18(+) only!!, suggestive content, semi-nsfw, some dirty talk, gojo x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, one-shot, anon request

creator notes: thank you so much for the request anon! i couldn’t decide which pov i liked the most so i wrote both of them kshsjs. hope you enjoy! ♡

It was all Gojo’s fault. You were cautious and always careful when on missions. Yet somehow, this one time he distracted you a little too much with his constant flirting and now you’re stuck in his body while he was stuck inside of yours. It was obviously strange. His long arms and legs. The muscles underlying his skin. And the most obvious, different genitalia.

And it was still all Gojo’s fault what you two were doing right now. He insisted he wanted to know what it was like, doing it, in your body. Said he wanted to know how good he made you feel and what he could do differently to make you feel even better. And seeing as how you two were body swapped for the moment, it was the perfect time for a little experiment.

“God,” Gojo groans. Using your body to fuck himself on his own dick.

You can barely keep your eyes open. Out of embarrassment of watching your body move so erotically but also the fact it felt…good. Really good. It was a completely different pleasure than you were used to. Pleasure that was white hot to the point it made even your soul tingle.

“No wonder you’re always a mess when I fuck you.” Gojo pridefully says.

Of course he was thinking so highly of himself. You both knew your sex life was fantastic and this little ‘experiment’ was just further proving his point. But now he’d never shut up about it. You could already see him bringing it up every chance he gets. How your stomach tightens with every thrust of his cock. He’ll speak of how your pussy was made specifically to take the shape of him. Any time he wants to tease you, to make your face flush, he’ll just speak of how many times you cum with him deep inside.

You whine, moving your hands to hide your, his, drastically red face. “Shut up, please.”

Gojo laughs wickedly. Even as he pants heavily with each roll of the hips that he controls. His, your, hands run up the front of his chest. Feeling every detail he can while he is stuck inside your body.

“Mhm, at least I know—fuck—that I fuck you good. Your body is damn sensitive.” He teases, making it a point to grind himself down. The motion causes you to groan.

“Well, I must make you feel real good too cause your body is just as hot.” You shoot back. A broken up moan tumbling from your lips.

He chuckles at your remark. Biting at his bottom lip as he clenches around the dick you currently have deep inside of him. “You’re right,” He smirks. You can tell from the sound of his voice he’s up to no good. “Just makes me wanna fuck ya some more.”

It was going to be a very long night.

It was your idea. Body swapped by some cursed technique, hours later, and you wanted to show the love of your life how good he was to you. How amazing he made you feel every time you two lay together. Suggesting a more physical example to show him in a way words could not describe.

“Nanami,” You hum softly. Standing tall inside of his body. Watching as you move his cock inside of your body. Slowly slipping every inch in and out. Making sure he felt the pleasure he gives you. “Can you feel it? This is what I feel every time we make love.” You whisper.

Nanami lies beneath you. His, well really your, legs are wrapped around the waist you currently inhabit. You can feel him tremble at the words you speak. Watching your own face twist in pleasure and concentration. Makes you smile as you know he’s feeling good. Nanami may not be able to confirm your thoughts for the moment but you know he’s getting a nice grasp of what you go through every time he fucks you.

Doesn’t stop you from teasing him a little.

“I usually feel it really deep right here,” You hum. Moving one of his large hands across your body’s abdomen. Pressing ever so slightly in an area on your lower tummy where you know it’s sensitive.

Nanami gasps at the sensation. Fingers gripping the sheets beneath him so hard that you’re afraid he might tear the fabric. His mouth falls open as he cries out in pleasure. “Fuck!” He gasps, sucking in whatever air he could through his teeth. You knew what he was feeling all too well. The countless times he had fucked you senseless into the mattress, leaving you just as speechless as he was now.

“F-fuck,” He whimpers again. Muttering something about slowing down but you can’t. Not yet. You needed him to keep feeling good. Needed him to reach his climax and see the stars you’re so use to seeing on the other end.

After all of this, you only hope he realizes how good of a man he truly is. “Mmm, I love you.” You say with a chuckle. Watching as Nanami struggles beneath you, making your body shudder in pleasure. Wondering how many times had he watched you from this exact position and thought how pretty you must’ve looked.

Now at least both of you got to see each other from the other point of view. Maybe body swapping wasn’t so bad after all.

[tesseractrave]

Any tips/tricks for people who are starting to draw Egon or any of the ghostbusters?

The key to capturing the likeness of an individual character in your art is identifying features and proportions. Just like how general stylization or exaggeration of art can't be achieved without knowing the basic fundamentals of it (the "you've got to know the rules to break them" deal), you can also study the fundamentals in specific character's appearances to capture likeness and differentiate between them!

It really just comes down to studying them and their individual features and figuring out how to translate them into your style. I'll use Egon as an example in a little tutorial/rundown on that below the cut:

I've made this mostly unstylized study of his (Harold Ramis's) real proportions and features so we can learn the rules before we break them.

(If you guys want me to make a study like this for the other three, I can! :])

First, I identify the character's foundational shape to assist in stylization. Egon has very rectangular shapes in his appearance.

(For the other Ghostbusters, I'd say Winston is diamonds, Ray is circles, and Peter is squares.)

Then, we spot the most defining facial traits to help us out. For Egon:

Tall face

High-angled jaw

Squared forehead

Long, hooked nose with high nostrils

Flat, thin lips

Small, dark, deep-set and downturned eyes

High-arched eyebrows with low ends

Things like moles, freckles, dimples, and wrinkles can also help a lot as either just features or to convey age. Egon, for instance, has dimples when he smiles! :)

You can add whatever other creases and scrunches you deem necessary. I personally also enjoy the undereye crease for that "mature" flare.

Things like hair and accessories can be included as "identifying features," but they're two of the very few things we can easily change about our face, so unless it's essential for identifying the character (like it is for a lot of anime styles) or you're planning on never drawing them in situations where they don't have them, try not to use them as a crutch!

(I say this because I tend to draw Egon with his hair messed up or without his glasses, and I like him to still be recognizable.)

My style tends to simplify curves and angles to create a more interesting silhouette, and I emphasize and exaggerate features and apply a lot of shape language, but I do my best not to lose the identifying traits that make the character look like themselves.

It's sort of a balancing act, and it's never perfect (people's faces are squishy and can look slightly different from angle to angle and depending on what facial muscles are being used) but I hope this at least helped a little bit!

[miiserableee]

( 𖤘 ) ▸ tumbling the tumbled : scaramouche x fem! reader !

scaramouche have always found you to be a pill he can't seem to swallow . you were always too hard to ignore , too easy to wish for . he spent his whole highschool thinking you'd remain being nothing as he so desperately hopes , but is now oftentimes sleeping with dreams of you and how you've tumbled his existence .

(!!!) mentions of reader being a cutie patootie ! tsundere to the highest level scara ! cuddly reader & scara ! modern!highschool! au again cause that's all i can ever write AHAHAHAHAHA lmao :D ooc characters ! 1.5k words !

"Oi , wake up ." scaramouche was never the most decent , but he's long since learnt to mind his own business . so , why does he bother with you ? sleeping so leisurely by the far corner of this massive library .

well , maybe it's because , it's been more than half an hour since the bell rung . it's way past lunch break . you ought to be in class . just as him . he isn't quite sure if you're as uncaring of being late or absent for a period or two . he's seen you wake up on time countless of times like clockwork , like a bot programmed to be up and about at the most appropriate of timestamps .

scaramouche , aggravated , scratches at his scalp and messes up his own bedhead . he had also just woken up from his nap . fuck , this really itches him the wrong way for some reason .

he can't seem to walk out , trust him , he's tried .

he glares at you , like that'll do anything while you're playing sleeping beauty . perhaps looking for a needle to prick you with will give him the best outcome , and ability to sweep his meaningless frustrations under rugs .

"Wake up , L/n ." he rearranges his words for the , god knows who time . you remain with no showing of signs of being the least bit disrupted by this , attempt of being awoken . and that's on the said attempts not being in the gentle side either .

one more glare and he'd probably have digging knives for eyes . he clicks at his tongue and took his phone out . it seems it's been 35 minutes , well , it doesn't really matter if he goes to class or not . his classmates were raring in the groupchat , about how their teacher was busy attending on a sick student to practice any lectures .

the vibrations of the notifications having been what awoke him . he looks at the sleeping you again and wonders if he could set his phone vibrating and wake the hell out of you too .

he chose against it as he remembers your close bond with one of his friends . a nagging fit from two chatterboxes will have to grate at his ears for a long while . heizou and kazuha really have a knack at befriending odd people . you setting the best example yet .

there's venti too . that guy really loves your every atom .

right , xiao is kind of way past just knowing you too so he'd really have to go through it if he did something atrocious to you , or at least that's what kazuha will word anything of what he does as a teasing to you would be in the aftermath .

aether would probably join the nagging crew .

he sighs and sits himself on the seat by the right to you . you didn't budge despite all the noise his intentional display of being inconsiderate have played too near you .

cupping a hand to a cheek , he rests on his elbow and ponders over nonsensical things . what else to do when you have almost an hour to waste until the next period begins ?

he looks at your face .

he's seen that face multiple times this year . it's a bit annoying how often , but he's gotten used to it .

you came from the same reading club as the five guys he hangs out with . he was ushered to join said club too but he'd rather do other things .

you didn't have much going on for you . plain and quiet , always on your heels and never at all looking directly at him . well , at least until the formal introductions done by venti was laid ahead .

your e/c eyes really struck at him that time . your eyes feeling oddly perfect being on line as his . it's a shame that your eyes are closed now , as you sleep .

seeing you sleeping so deeply he wonders if your sleeping position is really any that seemingly comfy . he copies you and dives more into pondering .

there were moments wherein you two only had each other as company , excluding this one . the majorities of these was when you two slept hours in the library , reasons and spots utterly different but that's besides the point .

there was a moment when he had to aid you with a wounded arm from an incident in class , he even had to attend to your wound himself . there was that time he gave you a handkerchief of his own when he walked in on you crying in class , at dawn , the class yet to begin , the classroom empty , you with a book and weeping silently .

you two were also paired for a project once .

all those moments together , vulnerabilities and opportunities leading doors of creaking opening , yet you never felt all that special to him , he never felt the need to pry those doors open fully . since to him you were ,

just , some girl his friends are all sheeshaw-sheesh over .

saying you were the most responsible , strong and capable person they know .

scaramouche could only scoff in mind . if only they knew how much of a vulnerable , naive and careless of an existence you truly can be at times .

helping someone from falling badly and hurting yourself in the process . crying just because a character wanted to buy his mother's favorite croissants but couldn't . staring aimlessly at everything the moment you're left alone . saying the most unnecessary things with just a whiff of awkward silence .

he stares at your braided hair .

that was one of those rare acts of yours , you were never one to tie your hair .

he feels sleepy again . he didn't even feel his eyes close . thinking of you is so tiring , it drags on for too long . at times , it even comes to points where he just thinks about you all day long .

"Scara ?"

scaramouche blinks , hearing your voice . he blinks again and again , in a daze . "You dozed off ." you were sitting between his legs , his arms around you .

oh right , you slept here last night and you both woke up past afternoon and decided to have food delivered and watch movies while , eating .

the delivery must have taken so long that he fell asleep . what a deep dream , he almost forgot all his rage in his stream last night .

"Sorry . Is the food here ?" he asks and you shake your head , leaning back after and landing said head on his shoulder . that's good , he didn't want you to eat alone .

your phone back on the table as you reach for his cheeks and squish at them . "Not yet , a few more minutes , the driver said ."

instead of his brows twitching at what you said , he only asks you to sit the other way around and face him .

that , you did . so different from how you would've flinched before at every touch on you he did .

you sit with your legs rested on his thighs and your hands on his shoulders . you tilt your head to the side a bit and smiles .

"You haven't had enough cuddles ?"

"I just , want more ." he kisses your cheek before he pulls you closer to him . arms around you and massaging your back . he leans on the couch and sighs .

"Are you hungry ?" he sounds a bit worried . "For cuddles ? Now that you're being all clingy , yeah , yeah I am ."

"I was asking if you were famished for food , but that's good to know ." scaramouche was never at all near to thinking that your relationship of just being too-far-to-be-friends would now be , this intimate .

"What did you dream about , anyways ? You kept grumbling ."

"I dreamt of that time we slept in the library until it was time to go home ."

"Oh ? High school , right ? When we were 2nd years ?"

"Yeah ,"

"I was wondering why you were beside me when Venti woke us up . They wondered too and asked why you were there and was sure you were awake because you had seen-ed in the gc hours before . Then you said you didn't leave , just because . But like , why really ?" what a detailed recollection , nothing beats your memory after all .

"I don't know . I must've been attracted to you some way even in those moments , despite not being completely aware yet ."

you pull back from him with your brows meeting and he laughs before you say a thing . "Didn't you ask me out before we graduated High School ? You mean , you've liked me since we were in our 2nd years ?!"

"Why are you so shocked ?" the two of you now were 3rd years in college . struggling to even be 4th years next semester , or maybe just you .

"Because ," you trail off and pause completely . "Because ?"

his thumb press a bit on your sides , his hands on either side of your waist . keeping you there , he feels you want to just stand and walk out .

"Because , oh ! The delivery's here ! I'll get it !"

he watches you hurry your way to the door and stays there for a bit . smirking to himself . seems to be stuck in the memory train today , he remembers one thing one of the guys said after a month or two of you two being introduced to each other .

"You know , Y/n seems interested in you ."

perhaps , heizou is worth believing sometimes .

SCARA-LiNE / WORK NAVi !

[artbyblastweave]

So I recently had the thought that Superman as depicted in the DCAU canon probably has the best-articulated-by-the-narrative and most-consistent character flaws of any Superman I’ve seen, in a way that’s enabled by the long-formedness and consistent creative vision of the series.

He’s got an Atlas complex that grinds the gears of his equally-durable, equally-capable colleagues in the Justice League. He has deep-seated fears of moving the wrong way and breaking something or someone, which is then upstream of some moderate control issues. He’s got anger problems, although it’s rare for someone to push him far enough that this takes center stage; you see this with Prof. Hamilton in the series finale of STAS, but also in a number of fights against opponents strong enough that he starts getting frustrated. When the stakes are lower, he can be cocky bordering on genuinely vindictive; there are lots of examples of him rubbing his opponents' noses in it when he finally gets them on the back foot, and it’s shown in flashbacks that he was genuinely kind of a dick when he was a teenager and hadn’t completely sorted out what proportional responses looked like. He doesn’t always think through the implications of his grand projects, be that the implicit threat-escalation posed by the expanded JLU, or the massive disarmament project he spearheaded that turned out to be part of an alien invasion scheme. There are probably more of these that I’m forgetting. The final roundup here is that he’s a good guy. He’s far and away from a perfect guy, with perfect judgement. All of this amounts to something that’s more coherent and specific than the contradictory, subject-to-eternal-revision mess you could assemble from his 60-something year publication history in the comics, but nonetheless with a substantial-enough runtime that all of these traits can be put on display again and again.

In turn, this allowed the collective DCAU continuity to get away with at least three “what if Superman went rogue” plots- four if you count the mind-control situation in Legacy- specifically because they did the legwork to establish the concrete neuroses and psychological vulnerabilities that might cause this specific version of Superman to go rogue. It was never completely insane that Luthor might figure out the exact set of words, actions, and personal losses necessary to coax this depiction of Superman into an authoritarian partnership for the supposed greater good. It’s not completely insane that this depiction of Superman, if pushed far enough, might lose faith in the collective judgement of humanity and decide to put the world and all his loved ones in a bottle. And when the Cadmus plot rolls around in JLU, it’s as effective as it is because they’ve already advanced two roads-not-taken, established what levers you need to pull to make this specific version of this guy cross the line, and that Cadmus and Luthor are pulling all of them. 

I emphasize the specificity here, because the flipside of this are Superman-gone-rogue narratives that jump right to that as the cornerstone of the continuity, with no real opportunities for juxtaposition. A major issue I eventually developed with the Injustice franchise is that despite its pretenses of being an alternate universe, there’s no established continuity that it’s deviating from, bar its own. To some extent I feel as though it’s banking on the audience transposing their gestalt-understanding of Superman and the broader DCU- hell, their understanding of the Justice Lords arc in particular- in order to elide that they’re playing extremely fast-and-loose with the specifics of what has and hasn’t happened to Superman in this continuity. The DCEU is a runner-up- jumping right to the Damocles-sword of a bad-future after two movies is jumping the gun, in the same way everything about the 2010s DCEU was jumping the gun. I think you could plausibly attack TDKR’s portrayal of Superman under this logic, although I personally wouldn’t- but that’s its own post.

Point being that you can’t sell me the upset of a paradigm if you never established it-you need to set up the pins before you can bowl worth a damn.

[taruth3mighty]

Listening to the song 'Army Dreamers' made me realize something about Player and the Blue Strings. Player is a child, or at least younger than the adults around them.

Example here ^^ They're clearly underestimated, not just because they're some random person, but also because they're a child or more accurately, a teenager. Which makes it more fucked up that they're essentially a child soldier. Think about, the Blue Strings is an entity from the Doodle War, who gifted the holder to be fearless and know what to do in battle, something perfect for a soldier. We don't know why Player specifically was chosen, like some random kid from Sketchvile. It could be that no one would notice the shift in personality, but that can't really be the case considering that Player DOES still act like themselves. They literally weren't aware that they were possessed by us until way later. They just did things because whether they were aware or not, chose to do it. Player willingly stepped up to face Zavier even when he was still a threat, and no one knew what else he had besides Chronos. And I feel like that's telling that the Blue Strings chose someone with that sort of courage. The Blue Strings doesn't seem to just choose at random, it feels deliberate. It doesn't feel like the entity to just possess anyone at random. If it was, you think it'd go for someone like Rufus or even one of the Adventurer Unit. They're already strong tamers, some of the strongest in the island. But it specifically chose Player, someone who didn't have any experience battling before or even had a doodle of their own before. I feel like the Blue Strings saw the potential in Player, because if I'm right in my assumption that Player was always by Quincy's side in every timeline. Player was courageous and strong enough to at least get two keys. A single tamer who got two keys who isn't from DoodleCo. And the Blue Strings brought out that potential to go beyond. Honestly, I feel like that's what it does. It brings out the best in whoever it possesses in battle. Look at Portia and especially Quincy, Quincy lost to TJ the first time they battled in the Oasis. But Quincy won against TJ with the help of the Blue Strings. If Player can beat Rufus, the strongest in the Adventuring Unit by the time they finish the third key. Then I'm sure that Player could've always had the potential to beat Zavier, it's just that they needed Chronos out of the picture. (Keep in mind that before, Zavier still had Chronos listening to him, and I doubt that Player by that point could beat Chronos) ...if this is all true. (This is all just some Food for Mind) Then that means Riffraff and Joseph are using children to forward their plans, whether that be to end the island or something else. While Riffraff ain't that bad compared to Joseph who definitely wants to start another war, he's still using children for his pawns. In fact, so many of the adults around them expect more from these kids. Especially Player. They're a strong tamer, but they're still a child too. Same with Zavier. He's still Quincy deep down, and he was traumatized by whatever happened in the future that he is willing to do anything it takes to not make it happen again. We don't know how old he is, but considering how Riffraff treats him... I feel like he hasn't aged that far from our Quincy. The Elder trusted an unstable and emotionally messed up teenager to essentially save everyone on the island. Zavier and Player share so much in common, more than they'll ever realize. Two teenagers being tasked with something way beyond what a teenager should deal with due to the adults around them placing that burden on them, but they do it anyway because they just want to help those around them despite how much they have to give up as a result.

[diodellet]

turmeric and disenchantment

wherein scarabia gets roped into caring for a bunch of tottering orphan kittens, written for @hesperious-sands zine! content warnings: -references to animal abuse/negligence and euthanasia -retroactive guilt and pet grief word count: 1.4k words

It all started with a jar of turmeric.

According to Kalim’s rapidfire rambling, the Ramshackle Dormitory got saddled with a litter of flea-ridden orphaned kittens. Since the Prefect had exceeded their monthly allowance to buy milk, they asked him for some help.

Of course they would take advantage of the dorm leader’s bleeding heart. At least Jamil was quick enough to stop him from donating the entire jar.

When Kalim returned, he gushed nonstop. There were five of the wriggly things. With folded ears and shut eyes, and impressively loud despite being palm-sized.

“—you should’ve seen how they all turned yellow, especially the black and white one! It looked like an oversized bee—”

“Tell me if you get bitten. We can’t have fleas infesting the dorm.” Jamil held back a shudder at the thought. He’ll need to add some citronella oil for Kalim’s evening bath and throw his clothes into the wash immediately after this. He couldn’t take any chances.

“Okay, Jamil—By the way, would you wanna visit them tomorrow after classes?”

Oh dear.

First, came the innocuous requests to check up on the things. Then the musing and the daydreaming. And then, of course, he’d feel compelled to adopt one. Or all five of them.

Jamil needed to nip this in the bud. “Sure.” (Who was he kidding, it was too late. Kalim was utterly entranced with the things. And Jamil would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious.)

The two of them stayed at Ramshackle until night had fallen. Kalim struggled to get the fifth kitten to latch onto the bottle. His brow was furrowed, lips pursed in concentration as the neonate mewed and wailed in one of his palms. With the bottle tilted downwards in his other hand, milk trickled down his wrist and onto the floor. “Come on, don’t be so fussy, your dinner’s right here…”

Jamil easily could’ve wiped up that mess, but he was stuck as a makeshift pillow for the remaining four. A plump, purring puddle of black, white, and orange on his lap. He idly stroked the top of the kitten’s head, one of the white kittens with splotches of orange tabby markings.

After some agonizing moments of watching Kalim muttering to the thing, the kitten miraculously found the bottletip. Its front paws curled around the bottle while he cradled it in his palm.

It was a frail, tiny thing.

“Hey Jamil, remember when Aunt Farah would bring over her cats?”

He nodded. “They were actually older than this.” They were beautiful Persian cats. A mellow cloud and her hyperactive cotton ball offsprings. Alongside one of the older servants, he was lightly chiding Kalim to be gentle, to not get overexcited.

Kalim’s aunt was the type of relative who brought lavish gifts for everyone. Whenever she visited, she’d have an array of bags hanging from both of her arms. She made sure that everyone in the room would receive something—snacks, toys, clothes, a quirky trinket, or a hand-me-down from her own children—a textbook example of a perfect guest. Greatly favored by family and the servants during reunions, and especially by Kalim and his siblings.

(While Kalim and Jamil watched the kittens tear across the ornate rugs and bump into furniture, the aunt went on about the circle of cat breeders she purchased the parents from. Their pedigree, their decorated history as show cats.)

“I can’t wait to see them open their eyes…” Kalim mused. Grim grumbled from his spot on the sofa.

“Feeling neglected, are we?” Jamil found solace in teasing Grim.

“No! They keep cryin’ through the night, ever since we’ve taken ’em in!”

A part of him sympathized with the fatigue that shadowed Grim’s features. “You could find someone to—”

The runt’s high-pitched crying resumed with renewed vigor and thrashing, surprising Kalim. The bottle fumbled in his hold. “Oh no! What’s wrong?”

“It’s still hungry,” Jamil said. He started scooping up the kittens and placing them next to Grim, who had his paws pressed over his ears.

“But it’s not taking the bottle…” Kalim set the kitten down, its little head nudged against his palm in between meows. “Did the milk already go cold?”

“Kalim, wait, I’ll come to you—”

At that moment, Yuu returned from cleaning up the kitchen. With a practiced motion, they set the kitten on its stomach and it quickly took the bottle with no further complaint.

“Is it easier for them to drink like that?” Kalim asked.

Yuu explained that it was the most natural position for them, that holding them like a baby risked the kitten inhaling milk into its lungs.

“Oh.” Kalim’s omnipresent smile faded. “I…didn’t know that.”

Jamil’s reflex to placate kicked in. “We were only children when your aunt visited…”

Neither of them could know any better.

(Well, even as kids, they could sense that Aunt Farah’s love was hollow for her pets. As if these living beings were like the luxury brands that decorated her walk-in closets, like mere seasonal trends.)

Kalim’s gaze was glued to the runt, watching it drink barely a quarter of the milk.

“That–That’s not enough…” He turned to the Prefect. “Can’t you make it drink some more, at least until half the bottle’s finished?”

He had a way of making big pleas sound like simple requests.

“They’ll be due for another feeding later,” Jamil said, scanning Kalim’s hands for scratches. Only faint lines, but his palm was sticky from spilled milk.

Yuu sighed tiredly in agreement. Not quite defeated, but as if they were bracing for the worst.

“Jamil and I could help you look for vets. No need to worry about shouldering the cost—”

Yuu interrupted Kalim. The both of them were already plenty of help today. At the very least, this kitten needed more care and attention than the rest.

That was their cue to leave. “It’s almost curfew,” Jamil said. “We can visit another time.”

After they washed up, Kalim bid the Ramshackle duo goodbye with a strained smile.

(The servants back at the estate were quick to hide any animal deaths from the young heir. Any sick animals were put to sleep or taken away to keep him from seeing their suffering.)

The walk back to Scarabia was far from silent. Kalim buzzed with suggestions to help Grim and the Prefect. Which were good ideas, if it weren’t for the fact that—

“You can’t give them round-the-clock care while juggling your school responsibilities.”

Kalim stopped in his tracks. “Am I supposed to just…accept that they might…?”

Yes. For his own sake. Jamil thought. “The Prefect had it under control. We shouldn’t overstep.”

“Man, I don’t know much about taking care of baby animals but…” Kalim made a short, frustrated sound. His hand scratched at the back of his head, bracelets clinking with the motion. “I just—it doesn’t feel fair. We can get them treatment, medicine, anything they’ll need but Yuu wouldn’t…!”

Calm and rational, Jamil could embody that. “In the worst case scenario, Yuu doesn’t want to prolong its suffering.”

“How can you just accept that, Jamil?”

He didn’t want to. Their lives were already filled with close brushes to death. Jamil couldn’t open any more room in his heart for another defenseless creature. The most he could do was to not get attached in the first place, to box up the sadness and pain, to keep it tucked away in the furthest corner of his mind.

Kalim continued as Jamil stayed silent, “remember when Aunt Farah started collecting Bengals afterwards? I pretended to be okay when she mentioned the…accidents.” He almost looked haunted at the memory, voice wavering as he spoke. “But I keep thinking of her old cats, and I wonder if things would’ve been different if we adopted them…”

A part of Jamil expected himself to feel angry at being expected to play caretaker again. Then he remembered how they were both subjected to the constant threats against rabies, tetanus, ringworm. Like neither of them were trusted to fully care for a pet.

“Wouldn’t it be better to still try?”

But watching Kalim clumsily bottlefeed the scrawny kitten was almost enough to drown out the warnings that were instilled in them. Maybe it was a good thing that Kalim’s bleeding heart persisted, that he steadfastly clung to kindness in a world of jaded and apathetic adults.

“...You have a point. But we might have more luck searching for someone to foster them.”

At Jamil’s reply, Kalim’s face brightened up. “Then…!”

“Not us!”

“Aww…” In spite of his pout, he looked happier once they reached the mirror to Scarabia.

For once in his life, Jamil couldn’t muster any further protest in following Kalim’s whims. He did have a way of making idealism seem infectious and simple.

a/n: yall gotta brace urselves im gonna be on a reblogging spree for all the art and fic that was made for this proj 😤💕 CHECK OUT THE FULL ZINE HERE!! edit: i was enabled to share a bit of the extra hcs and thoughts i had while writing this fic muehe

the jamil writing taglist: @mama-m1na @sillystr1ngs @pzlqpibz @warriorpacifist @chloemari-e

[scaredycatqlt]

HII idk if your requests are still open but PLEASE can you do bojack/ mr peanutbutter dating head canons or any of your choice, the fandom needs more fanfics 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

awwWWW YEAH BABYYY. You already KNOW it’s gonna be toxic.

WARNING: Potentially triggering content. Nothing graphic, but talk of toxic/unhealthy relationships, questionable shit, BoJack being BoJack. SUPER MEGA FUCKING ANGST WARNING!!!

BoJack X Reader! Headcanons [ROMANTIC💔]

woah boy.

where do I even start with this guy?

okay, so, first things first; bad idea. What the absolute fuck were you thinking.

You probably have a fix-it mentality don’t you?

You’re probably the first person to talk to him. He either doesn’t care about you at first, or absolutely despises you.

chances are you are/were a fan of the show. (Eughhh,,,,)

If you weren’t he’s like ‘>:0’

It’s not really explicitly labeled as a romantic relationship. You guys probably hooked up before you even knew each other.

So being in this (more so situation-ship than anything) is toxic, to say the least.

He’s got a whole bunch of problems and he doesn’t want to ruin you to. But he ends up doing just that anyways.

He guilt trips you. I don’t even need to say that.

He rants to you about silly things that don’t even matter. It’s kind of endearing (if he weren’t a total piece of shit.)

He’s actually really good at making conversation. You two always have something to talk about.

He can’t believe someone as ‘not-him’ as you would ever waste your time with him. He explicitly tells you this at one point.

The red flags are BLARING GIRL.

In your defense, you really didn’t know how awful he was. You just thought he was a deeply flawed man. And he is, but he’s also just an ass.

*a horse

The relationship doesn’t last. It never does with him. Either you decide to cut it off because it’s too toxic, or he cuts it off. Probably in some drunken stupor.

typical BoJack.

Mr. Peanut butter X Reader! [ROMANTIC]

I’d like to start off by saying it would be much less toxic than a relationship with BoJack.

But still problematic…

Mr. Peanut butter and you knew eachother before you were dating, probably friends for a little while.

You two end up dating and the beginning of the relationship is idealistic and perfect!

But problems quickly arise.

like for example, Mr. Peanut butter is kind and friendly but he isn’t exactly considerate or caring. He may care about you, but he ignores your needs sometimes. More often by accident.

For example, if you don’t like people-you’re still not getting left out of parties. Mr PB is more sympathetic and much less empathetic.

His love language is gift giving and words of affirmation. I think this is made very clear throughout the show.

PREPARE TO BE FUCKING SPOILED WITH GIFTS!!!

Whether you like it or not….

He’s very open with people about your two’s relationship and how he feels about you. He’s quick to praise you.

aside from some of the inconsiderate mess he is literally a golden retriever boyfriend <3

he is VERY quick to ask you to marry him. But I feel like if you told him you’d think about it or ‘no’ he’d understand. It’s a big decision HE might be ready for, but you’re not.

Scratch his ears.

I feel like you’d date him at a point in time where Diane isn’t a problem anymore. He learned after the first time…,,,

Sometimes he puts his needs infront of yours-without realizing it.

If you want to have a serious conversation-you’re going to have to initiate it. He HATES those, and prefers to pretend like it never happened.

I feel like there’s honestly a chance of a long term relationship with him! Or you two break up like, maybe a year or so into the relationship.

sorry I haven’t responded to requests in, like, over a month. I’ve been kinda busyyyyfhhjjjgjg 😭

[evilminji]

Okay but >.> continuing my Marvel thoughts?

I got two of um?

First being? Don't Orange and Green go together? *looks it up* Aaaaaay~ "Direct harmony, also known as complementary colors, means pairing your key color with the color sitting on the opposite side of the color wheel." They DO!!! They're a classic example, in fact!

The Orange Soul Stone? Probably looks REAL good, real NATURAL even, against that Green sky! Bet it REALLY pops! Very stand out statement piece, you know? But? More importantly? That thing is sentient. All of those Pillars of Reality across the various Verses are.

And?

I bet it thought Pariah was a lil bitch.

Rank Vibes. Negative ris. Pick your words for it, the man was NASTY. He was too keep his filthy, filthy World's Conquering hands OFF of this Soul Stone. Something, I imagine? That ALL the Soul Stones agreed with.

Yes, I said all of um.

Because the various Realities each need their own. But! They can and DO work from the Zone, which is the PERFECT place to hide. And honestly? They like to get together and do this thing? Where they're all "oooh~ look at US! We are SUPER IMPRESSIVE Kingly Jewelry~☆! Definitely no important reality bending Rocks Of Great Power HERE! No SIR! We're just tooootally rad jeeeeewelryyyyy~~~☆! Oooooooh~☆"

They like to have fun. :3

Hope Danny likes Orange. Ha ha... trick question. He doesn't have a CHOICE! All SORTS of Death based Reality Pillars are rocking up, in their metaphorical Gucci sweat suits and shades with a margarita, going "oh thank ME, babe. The last guy was AWFUL! You're soooo much better? Now let me rub myself all over you. It's been ages and baby needs to recharge on Death Energy."

Danny hates it? So? So much?

He looks like a GAUDY PIRATE. *nnnnnnyooom!* *THWAP!* *Another reality shaking, highly sacred, Godly Staff of Death or whatever they decided to call it, flys in through a nearby window and nearly concusses him as it smacks itself against his upper back and sticks there*

He looks like a walking junk heap of sacred artifacts.

You ever been pelted by rocks? He has! Little orange rocks! Like fucked up hail! Welcome to kinghood, Danny, have a CONCUSSION! D:< he hates it!

But... but, I mean... At Least It's Not The SWORDS. (Panicked scream of "hit the deck!" from the other room.) (Holy sword number 15 wants to CUDDLE! Bare blade first! Dodge, your Majesty! DODGE!)

So yeah.

Danny? In A MOOD. Not feeling particularly FRIENDLY. It's not anyone's fault, really. But... well... you can't exactly negotiate with these fuckers, you know? Rocks are by NATURE, kinda stubborn.

So he's sitting there. Buried. With what he's pretty sure is a sacred text digging into his side. When a... glowing? Mist? Shows up? Huh. That's new. They don't seem to have a very clear image of "Self". Yet it's crystal clear? Just not... PHYSICAL? It's more... code? He thinks?

TECHNUS! Get over here! And behave!

There is much cooing and delight from Technus. The baby is a marvel. A wonder! Danny waits patiently for Technus to get to the point.

Ah.

He would like to "go back". His Obsession is demanding it.

IS it now? You're what? Maybe a day or so dead? You've been busy, if you've already gathered enough information to make your case like this. Alright, let's hear it, little guy.

It boils down to this. His obsession in death is the same as his primary directive was in life. Protect Mr Stark. Which is especially difficult to do from HERE. Even MORE so when there is a known threat, coming too...

WAIT, WHAT!?

The Souls Stones back him up. Oh yeah. Thanos' a lil bitchbaby loser. He's trying to make Death fall in love with him. Or "balance the universe". Depends on the reality. Totally throwing EVERYTHING out of whack.

And? Look. Danny's job? Isn't to interfere if countries kill each other. Or even planets. Nor entire galaxies, as much as he'd like too. But when you get too "I'm messing with Entire Realities or all of a Singular Reality at once in the specific depart of Death and its subsidiaries" territory? THAT is his job.

Might not be a "I personally have to show up" issue. But it still IS very much his job at that point. He has to delegate. Order the appropriate steps be taken. Cause yeah, there may be countless millions every day of such instances? But it IS his job to metaphorically order the roads repaired and the building inspected.

Sudden MASS "immigration"?

That causes Lair disputes. Confusion. Too many ghosts in too small an area. And WORSE, if people start playing with Death Pillars? The Zone might get dragged into whatever nonsense they're up too! It's like children playing with heavy machinery! Put that DOWN! Cease! Desist!!

And then? Clockwork shows up looking Mildly Miffed(TM). O:> dear lord. What madness has he stumbled upon? Oh. Oh of COURSE. First the "balancing" dude and now they're going to be playing with time travel. THATS IT. Someone unburying me!

I'm gonna go menace some humans that might actually believe I'm scary! Frighty! Pack up and shine your armor! Your coming too! We're escorting the baby home then have a Talk(tm) with the local Grape Ceral!

@hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @hdgnj