#maybe i can push this task off on someone else. hm..

[triptychofvoids]

MEEEDIC! Heh, sorry about that again. Pauling here.

Scout's been a real pain in the butt recently. I need you to find someone to distract him so he doesn't start flirting with me while I'm trying to bury bodies (plus, I think the Admin's starting to get a bit... angry... at his show of affections... not 'favourable circumstances' for the job, apparently).

Why don't you play cupid and find him a merc he'll focus his gross affections on instead? I'll allow you to use your bonesaw if necessary! Just think of it as a contract, look, I'll even pay you- JUST GET HIM OUT OF MY SIGHT!

.... Thanks doc, I know I can count on you!

-Miss F. Pauling

you want me to play cupid?? hAHAHAAA!! HAAHAHAHHEEheh hoo!! im no matchmaker miss pauling! you must be incredibly desperate to be coming to me for help with this. ill see what i can do, if theres something in it for me, but i cant promise you anything. i think youd be better off just telling him outright that youre not interested no?

[evieismol]

Big Bend - Chapter Seven

a/n: finally getting this posted and getting back to working on this series! It's been way too long and I am quite sorry. This chapter's not the longest but I'll have more up soon!

Cw: light swearing maybe? Otherwise n/a

Previous

Zoey's POV

I had almost finished sweeping the gift shop when I heard Penelope hop up on the cash register behind me. I turned to see her sitting on it.

“Finished closing out the registers, so that’s the last of the closing tasks,” she said.

“I’m almost done here,” I responded.

“Hell yeah - we’ll be out of here early tonight,” Penelope said. I replied with a nod, bending down to carefully sweep the last of the dust and dirt into the dust pan.”

“Soooo…” Penelope said, feigning casualness. I immediately knew I wouldn’t like wherever this was going.

“Easton’s pretty nice,” she said.

“Yeah. Seems like he’s bringing a lot of publicity to the park too,” I said neutrally.

“Oh yeah! Angie was saying visitation is up like, a ton! I don’t really know about numbers, but I do know I keep seeing all this stuff about him on social media. I even saw a fan edit of him the other day on my for you page,” Penelope said with a laugh.

I was glad I had turned to dump the dustpan into the trash, so Penelope couldn’t see the gears in my head grinding to a halt as my eyes widened.

“A fan edit?” I asked. I turned back to her, having to make an effort to keep the surprise - and maybe a bit of curiosity - off my face.

“Mmhmm. Apparently a lot of people online think he’s pretty attractive,” Penelope said. I could practically feel her gaze burning into me.

“Oh. That’s funny,” I said. I stuttered slightly, wincing internally.

What is wrong with me? Why am I being so awkward all of a sudden? Like, way more than usual. Ugh, Zoey, just be chill.

“Mmhm. I mean, are they wrong?” She asked. “Like, he is kind of cute, right?”

I looked down, feeling my cheeks start to burn. “I guess. Uh, I have to go put this broom away.”

“I’ll come with you!” Penelope chirped happily.

Fuck.

“So, you do think he’s cute, then?” She asked, trailing a few steps behind me as I went to set the broom back in the storage closet.

“I-uh-I don’t know. He’s sweet and uh, I guess kind of cute. I mean, it’s not like I personally think he’s really cute or attractive or anything. Just that I can get why someone else would. In an objective way,” I said, hoping she’d drop it before I managed to entirely put my foot in my mouth. It might have been too late for that.

“Right,” she said, drawing the word out in a way that suggested she wasn’t convinced. “So, like, you don’t like him, then?”

“What? No! Of course not! I mean, I like him as a person,” I stammered.

“Hm. If you say so,” she said.

“I don’t! And even if I did, which I don’t, I have absolutely no interest in dating ever again. It hasn’t exactly worked out great for me in the past, so, can we just drop it?” I felt an edge creeping into my tone on the last part, the ending question coming out much more sharply than I’d intended. Penelope seemed to pick up on the change, nodding quickly.

“Yeah, of course. Sorry if I was pushing, I just thought-y’know, nevermind,” she said. “We should go clock out, probably.”

I sighed. “Sorry. It’s just-I was in a really bad relationship before coming here. Like, really bad. So romance is kind of the last thing I’m interested in right now.” Really bad still felt like an understatement, but I couldn’t bring myself to use any more descriptive words. I could already feel my stomach turning just referencing the past.

“It’s cool, I should have dropped it earlier. I get it,” Penelope said. “I don’t want to like, assume anything about your last relationship, but if you ever want to talk or vent or anything, I’m here.” She gave me a kind smile, one that gave a rare sense of genuine care instead of surface level concern or pity.

“Thanks,” I said, a soft smile of my own forming on my lips. “I appreciate it.” I took a breath. “Well, what do you say we get out of here?”

Next

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Once Upon a Time 6

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Andy Barber

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your shift starts out as usual. You go through opening with Colton and Chelsea. You leave cash just after ten to work the floor.

It's a quiet day and the rush usually doesn't start until after lunch. Right around noon, as you count down the minutes until your break, you notice traffic pick up with the arrival of more associates to cover the departments.

As you help an older lady find the classics section, you sense someone watching you, likely an impatient customer wanting your attention. You point the woman to the five dollar classic table and turn to face your next task. The shadow is gone. You peer around, hm, maybe they found someone else.

You continue your lap around the store. You pass Colin as he winks at a tall blonde as he holds a book in his hands. It's not often you see him doing anything besides hiding in the back. With Pine back, you assume that's not an option.

As you come up an aisle, you sense another shift in the air. You whip around and swear you see a figure flit away. Okay, you're being paranoid. This place is getting busy and you didn't sleep well.

You stop to look at the spines lined up neatly and adjust the little placard that hangs over the front of the shelf. Your eyes are drawn up as you see the crown of a head on the other side.

You march down to the end but as you come around, the customer is gone. You're definitely having an episode of some sort. What the hell is going on?

You press on your headset and let the floor know you're taking five. You just need to hit the bathroom and clear your head. You come out around the edge of comics and set off towards the little lobby between the bathrooms. You push through the door with your shoulder and sigh. You go into a stall and try to shake off the nerves.

He might not even come in today. And if he does, Pine is here. This can be done once and for all. You come back out and wash your hands, looking yourself in the tired eyes reflected back at you. Right, almost break time. Ten more minutes.

You pull the door and nearly walk straight into another person. You yipe, an embarrassing noise, and back up against the door. Of all the times to run into him, it's then. Andy puts on a show of surprise, brows popping up as he tilts his head.

"Oh, hey, didn't know you were working," he says.

"Um, yeah, I'm just head back," you point towards the floor, "I gotta go," you fix your earpiece, "sorry."

You sidle past him, ignoring your name as he calls after you. He grumbles but you hear the bathroom door swish open. You swerve and go off to find Colin or another manager. You're just going to have your break now.

When you come back along the far end of fiction, Colin is no longer there. A swarm of customers away you and you stop to help them find titles and look up several that are out of stock on your phone. You finally get away, turning back for the back office. As you get close to the rear of the store, you're stopped again by the same figure.

"Hey," Andy puts his hands in his pockets. His jacket is unbuttoned over a grey suit and pale blue shirt. His dark tie is pulled straight and tight. "I had a question--"

"Andy," you utter, "I was just going to find Mr. Pine. He's in the store today so you should be able to chat."

"Mr. Pine?" He frowns and slips his hand free to scratch his beard, "I’m not here for him," he says.

"Well, I'm headed on my break after so--"

"Break? How about coffee?"

The question surprises you. You expected anger. You expected the same look you got at the side of the road. Instead, he seems almost dazed.

"It's just a fifteen, I won't have time, so... I'll just go get Mr. Pine--"

"I don't want to talk to him," Andy insists, "why are you running away?"

"I... I'm not. Did you need help finding something?" You look around with a gulp, "we don't have the new book in the series just yet--"

"Don't be like this," he steps closer and you stiffen, leaning back on a heel, adrenaline bubbling, "I'm a nice guy. I've been nice. It's just a coffee."

"Look, I just work here. I can help you with books or a kindle but I don't want to have coffee with you. Do you get it? I'm not interested."

He blinks and furrows his brows, "why not?"

You stand in silence, staring at his throat, too afraid to look him in the face. You shrug as you search for an answer; he's pushy, he's old, he's not your type, you're not looking. You don't want to be mean, just honest. How do you tell someone to leave you alone nicely?

"Ahhh, Mr. Barber," the voice drawls from behind you and you flinch as you step aside, back to the shelf as you turn to watch Mr. Pine stride towards you, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Andy scowls at the blond strutting up the aisle, "nothing. Just shopping."

"And you've chosen my fine establishment," Pine steps up, slowing as he looks to you, "you alright? Why don't you go off and have your break?" He checks his watch, "I'll deal with this one."

"Deal with me?" Andy says defiantly, stepping up in challenge. "I'm giving money to your business. You should show some respect."

"Mmm," Pine narrows his eyes and looks Andy up and down, "you know, there is a rather elaborate surveillance system here. For security." Pine pushes his shoulders, unaffected by Andy's posturing, "now on top of weeks of you coming in to hound this girl, I've only just watched you stalk her around this store for no less than forty minutes."

Your mouth falls open. Forty minutes? Your heart drops into your stomach.

"So, you will leave the premises, that is certain. You do get a choice; to leave of your own volition or with some assistance."

Pine steps even closer to Andy, herding him back away from you. Andy's jaw ticks as he stares down the other man. His eyes slowly scan over to you and his lips part as his face shades with embarrassment.

"I wasn't following her," he backs up, raising his palms, "I was looking around. That's it. I'll leave." He shakes his head and snorts, "talk about customer service."

Andy spins on his heel, flicking his fingers derisively over his shoulder. You cross your arms over your chest as a chill rolls over you. You don't believe him. You look at Pine as he watches Andy stomp away.

"Mr. Pine," you eke out, "can I see the footage?”

[or0ch1maru]

I don't know if you're still doing requests but ahhhh

Could you maybe do one with the Akatsuki where y/n and a member are having play banter/teasing eachother for a bit but then one says something too far/or mentioned something their sensitive about and it hurts the others feelings? .3.

I love your writing:3 especially Kisame stuff *giggles*

Here’s a big smooch *MWAHH😘*thank you so much love😩 I love kisa so much and I feel like he’s SUPER underrated.

Here’s a gift from me to you as I write about our big teddy bear🧸

•you’ve been with the akatsuki for about two years now, and they’ve become more than just comrades. They’re family

•and with family comes some hardships, arguing about something like bills, or missions

•then there are the times people bicker between each other like siblings; some that you’ve heard or been apart of that consisted of “move your fat ass Tobi, I wanna sit down” said by Deidara when he wanted a spot on the couch. Then there was the one time someone ate your Onigiri, you questioned everybody and couldn’t find out who the culprit was

•but for the other 95% of the time, you guys love each other and get along as best friends

•today is like any other day

•you find yourself looking for a snack in the kitchen

• “whatcha lookin’ for short stop?” Asks Kisame when he enters, watching you rummage around for something that catches your interest

•everybody, except for Kakuzu is short compared to Kisa, you just happened to be the shortest. Which of course Kisame finds hilarious, but also really adorable.

• “I need sustenance” you comment back lightly, pushing boxes of pancake mix out of the way in the closet to see what’s behind them

•you take a step back, your body hitting Kisame’s torso, you tilt your head, craning to look up at him as he starts shifting things around on the higher shelves. Helping you out

• “we’ve got chicken noodle soup, clam chowder. I’ll actually take that. We also have a few boxes of noodles up here with sauce if you don’t mind waiting a bit.” He lists off

• “hand me a box of noodles, don’t care which, we got pesto up there?” You ask, trying to see if there’s a jar of the green sauce. “Hm” Kisame hums out as he searches. “Ah, here we are. He grabs a container and brings it down to you. You take the jar of pesto and the noodles from him and slip out of the pantry

•as you put a pot of water on to boil you hear the snap of the can opening behind you. You watch as Kisame grabs a clean spoon from a drawer and digs into his soup

•you roll your eyes playfully, “do you not want to heat that up? Or at least put it in a bowl or something?” You ask. Most of the time when out on missions, all you guys bring are canned food, or things that are premade. Not really having much time for anything else.

•you’d think at home, most of your comrades would put a little more time into what they eat

•he shrugs, finishing up the last of the chowder by drinking it out of the can, tossing the spoon into the sink.

• “so uncivilized” you mutter playfully as you dump the noodles into the water. You put another pot on the stove, this one much smaller as you dump the pesto in it. Keeping it on Low so it can be nice and warm

• “I am civilized” Kisame responded, his tone cheerful as it is most of the time, especially when around you

• “hm, whatever you say” you joke, now stirring your pasta to keep the noodles from sticking to the bottom

• “list five times where I came off uncivilized” Kisa says from behind you, leaning up against the counters on the opposite side of the kitchen

• “I’m not gonna go into full detail but you remember that one time Pain decided to treat us to a nice dinner in that village nearby?” You start, holding back giggles when you remember how bad that dinner ended up

• “oh fuck” Kisame replies, trying and failing at holding in his laugh. “It wasn’t my fault their chairs weren’t up to the task of holding me. I didn’t mean to crash into the waiter!” He exclaims, holding his sides as he defends himself.

• as the two of you calm down from laughing , you dump the noodles into the strainer.

• “but but-..” Kisame starts, clearly getting ready to burst into laughter with whatever he’s going to say next. “You remember when we were visiting the Hidden Leaf and you snapped at the waitress because she spilled hot tea in your lap? She looked so embarrassed. Think it musta been her first day or something”

•you shake your head, “yea yea, get it oughta your system. I apologized to her” you mutter as you scoop noodles into a bowl and cover them evenly with your sauce. You mimic Kisame’s earlier movements and grab a fork from the same drawer before haphazardly blowing on a mouthful of noodles

•you shove the still hot food into your mouth, puffing your cheeks out as it burns your tongue. You turn away and swallow, not wanting Kisa to see how ridiculous you just looked as you burned your mouth

• “then remeber when we had that one mission where it was you, Konan, me, and Itachi?” He asks, small giggles slipping between his lips

• “you and Konan were both irritable as fuck because of your periods syncing up or some shit like that?” You freeze, you tried pushing that out of your head. Mid travel, Kisame had noticed that you got blood on your cloak, and he thought it was from the enemy you had taken out an hour prior. He even tried using an old rag to scrub it out for you

•it wasn’t until he saw the look of horror and embarrassment on your face that he knew he was missing out on something

• “I can still remember the face you made. Oh my fuck, it was so funny” Kisame blurbs out, and your face heats up with embarrassment. You and Konan sent Itachi and Kisame off ahead of you two while Konan gave you a spare tampon since you had bled through the one you were wearing.

•it definitely wasn’t one of your proudest moments but you gotta do what you gotta do

•luckily your back is still turned towards your large comrade, giving you a chance to blink away the tears that are now burning your eyes, threatening to fall

•you sniffle, bringing your sleeve up to wipe them away quickly. Acting like you got food on your face. But even you know, the effort is futile

•Kisame is always able to pick up on mood swings(before they even happen), can hear when one’s heart rate changes, and you’re pretty sure he knows whenever you or Konan are ovulating(only because he’s always distant during that time)

• “ah shit…” you hear Kisame mutter quietly. You go to turn, ready to act like you’re fine, putting on a brave face when you’re met with Kisame’s torso right in front of you

• “I realize now what happened. I’m sorry” Kisa says from above you. Your cheeks flush and you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your slight embarrassment

•you feel two large hands on your back, pulling you towards him until your face is buried in his chest. The scent of his cologne filling your nose. Something about that and being wrapped up in his arms is soothing.

• “it’s ’Kay” you mutter into his chest, your words coming out muffled.

•something about how you sounded causes both you and Kisame to burst out into another laughing fit.

•Kisame bends down to hug you tighter, causing your giggles to hitch, and come out sounding broken, which in turn, make you two laugh even harder. Your sides hurt, and you know his must too

• “if you-ever-bring that story up again, I will kill you” you threaten playfully from his chest.

• “I’ll hold you to that short stop”

(Guys guys! Who here would like a Kisame x ovulating reader blurb?!?! Because it came to me when I was writing this and omg)

[sulumuns-dootah]

18.12. Phenix - Decorating house

    ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

₊˚⊹.* The Yule festival of Hell *.⊹˚₊

    ༺☆༻

You knew it would be a challenge to try and do something productive with Phenix around. Whenever you bend down to pick up something or reach up high to hang something and your top slides up, revealing more of your skin, you can hear the familiar whimpering from the poor demon laying on a couch. They're trying to be good and to hold themselves back, so you can actually get something done. You did promise them that you would give them reward if they did so, after all.

“Nngh... Y-Y/N...S-so pretty...” you can hear Phenix mutter to themselves a they're watching you over the backrest of a couch. Internally smiling at the compliment, you act like you didn't hear anything. Your smile fades quickly, however, when you realise that the next box is quite heavy for you. Who would expect plastic garlands with ornaments would get so heavy when multiplied.

“N-need help, pretty Y/N...?” a small voice sounds off from behind the couch when you're clearly struggling to even push the heavy box on the ground.

“Maybe a little, baby-”you concede and stand up straight, “can you take this box outside to the porch?”

“A-anything for you..!” Phenix springs up and is quick to lift up the heavy thing like it's nothing. They're outside before you can even reach out for your coat. It has been freezing for the past few days, but it seems like despite that, the snow around Phenix seems to be melting, you note.

“T-there... C-can I help more..? It feels... Haah... Good!” the small demon squeaks out while shaking – if from the cold or the blissful waves coursing through their veins, you aren't sure.

“Hm.. Maybe you can. I'll climb up and you'll pass me what I ask you for, okay baby?” you lean a ladder against a side of your front porch so you can decorate the roof.

“Y-yes..!” Phenix is quick to open the box and patiently wait for your requests.

The ladder isn't the steadiest. In a normal situation you would've asked someone else to do this, but with all the snow and all, the only option was you and Phenix. There's no way you would ask Phenix to do something as dangerous in the state they're in, though. So the task ended up in your hands.

'Don't look down. Just keep your balance and get this done quickly.' you think to yourself as you try to not imagine all the possible ways this could go wrong. Maybe you wouldn't be as nervous if it wasn't so icy or windy.

The front porch gets decorated relatively fast. You're glad because your hands have gone numb and the wind seems to only have picked up. You start descending the ladder, excited to see all the work you've done. Hopefully it looks as good as you'd imagined and planned out.

You're only down about three steps when a really strong gust of wind knocks you down and you're sent flying to the ground. 'This is it. This is how I die.' is the only thing your brain can generate in the moment.

Suddenly you land in someone's hands. It's Phenix of course. How could you have forgotten they've been helping you the whole time?

“Aw, who's this angel I've caught falling from the sky..?”

    ༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"Y-you're so pretty... C-can you be pretty for me in this..?"

[thiccpersonality]

The Riddled Questions

To paint a (hopefully) quick picture for you, imagine this: the Justice League enjoying a surprisingly peaceful day; The Flash playing cards with Black Canary and Green Arrow, Diana and Barda having an intense training session to bond over their warrior-like upbringings, HawkGirl and Green Lantern (John Stewart) chilling in a corner trying to act like they aren't flirting even though everyone can see it and other League members just chatting or enjoying various fun activities on the Watch Tower.

Heck! Even Batman is oddly relaxed (all things considered), his head actually turned away from the monitors to indulge in his hushed conversation with Superman. Whatever they are talking about is causing the big ol' bat to smirk, and dare I say, chuckle.

However, no matter how much the heroes are enjoying the peace, crime is still crime and evil is still evil. It's at those dreaded big, bold, bright red words flashing "CODE ASYLUM" that breaks the peaceful atmosphere, Batman immediately clicking away on the monitors to show how every single Arkham Asylum patient has escaped and are causing havoc in Gotham (some even having managed to flee out of the smoggy city).

Long story short: the Justice League insisted on helping Batman, split up into groups or individually to take care of a specific criminal or villain.

Which is how we get to the present. The Question executing his mission of tracking The Riddler down and bringing him back to Arkham...the issue with this of course is the fact that a man who's whole persona is questioning life is tasked with bringing down a man who's whole identity is asking questions in the form of riddles, I mean, how else did you think this situation would turn out?

The Riddler curses as he's pushed into a corner by Question, the man scoffing and standing straight while spinning his question mark shaped cane around. "Okay, so you've got me in a corner...but riddle me this-"

The Question: *clicks his tongue and places his right hand up to his chin as if he's thinking deeply about something* "Why do you riddle?"

The Riddler pauses and stares at the mysterious-some might say questionable-man as if he's stupid: "Really? Maybe because I'm THE RIDDLER. Why the crap do you question me?"

The Question hums once again: "Because someone needs to ask the important questions, you won't find answers to the questions in question if you never ask. Why are you questioning me about questioning you?"

The Riddler huffs impatiently: "Because you questioned me about questioning you about questioning me, that's why. And why are you here anyway...where is Batman?"

The Question: "Why am I here? Hm...that is a question I often ask myself, what reason am I here for? Is asking questions all I'm meant to do? What about you? Is asking riddles all you are meant for?"

The Riddler: "Wh-huh!? How are you turning these questions back onto me!?"

The Question: "Why do you assume I'm trying to turn things onto you?"

The Riddler: "Why are you assuming I'm assuming things? Don't you think that's a bit rude?"

The Question: "Who knows? Do I think at all? Maybe...maybe not. I want to know why you assume that I'm assuming things about you when in fact I'm not assuming, I'm just stating the obvious based off of the response you gave me. Why do you assume I'm rude because of that?"

The Riddler: "Why are you assuming that I'm assuming you are inherently rude because of my statement? I have not outright said you were rude, I said your questioning sounded a bit rude not you."

The Question: "But when one says that about a person, even just their speech, does it not cause that person to automatically assume you are talking about them as a person? Just as how you assumed I was turning these questions back onto you."

The Riddler: "By you saying "does it not cause that person to assume you are talking about them" is that not you confessing to assuming and also proving you are turning these questions back onto me by questioning me back? Which is the exact assumption I made earlier, so I was right in my assumption of you assuming things of me."

The Question: "But if you don't want more questions asked of you, why do you keep responding to me with questions as well? I'm not the only one at fault here."

The Riddler's eyebrow twitches in agitation at this repeating game...but he can't help but to respond: "I'm supposed to not answer you back? Is it not polite to answer back when someone responds? And who said I don't want questions asked of me?"

The Riddler can't really see Question's face...but his voice sounds dry and sarcastic when he responds: "No one said it. I posed it as a question and not a statement, I never outright said you didn't not want to be asked questions, I was just questioning you on why you keep responding IF you don't like my questions. I didn't ask you that thinking you didn't enjoy them, it's all hypothetical."

The Riddler: "Why is it hypothetical?"

A smile is heard in The Question's voice: "Ah, now you are the one turning my questions back on me. Does that not seem hypocritical to complain about me doing it and then doing it yourself?"

The Riddler just glares at The Question for a hot minute before crossing his arms like a sulking child: "Well I'm evil and you aren't. I'm allowed to be hypocritical because there's no hope for me."

The Question tilts his head curiously: "Why is there no hope for you?"

Riddler opens his mouth to answer before closing it again, humming and squinting in thought: "Well...society seems to think so, do they not? If a group of people agree on it...then it must be true."

The Question crosses his arms: "And if a group of those same people jumped off a bridge, would you? Why do you follow society?"

The Riddler bristles at the question: "I do not! I'm evil. That isn't like normal people!"

The Question: "What defines normal to you?"

The Riddler groans and scratches his head: "Not harming people, for one. Maybe not being uncaring towards others and causing harm wherever and whenever you can!"

The Question: "But those people you sometimes hurt are the ones that see you as a freak, are they not? I'm sure those comments hurt you a great deal deep down. And "normal" people still hurt people, that is inevitable, it's if you keep doing it that matters...right?"

The Riddler quickly nods in agreement: "Yes! And I keep on hurting people, so I am not normal."

The Question nods: "Yes, so you have said. But why do you keep doing it?"

The Riddler snaps and barks out at the other man agitated: "Because I'm not normal! I told you that people have told me I'm evil because I am!"

The Question: "Ah...people...such fickle beings we are. Did you not just tell me that you didn't conform to society? But most of your reasoning for hurting people and continuing to do so is based off of societal standards of you, is it not? I have to ask: are you hurting people because you truly want to or have you been led to believe there's no hope because the "normal" people you look at won't extend that to you? No doubt you have issues, but are you truly unsaveable?"

The Riddler feels like his mind goes blank, what does this mean? Is he conformed to society already? Has he been like the others all this time in thinking he was different?

At the stunned silence of the man, The Question smiles behind his mask at wearing the other down, steps forward and gently leads the man out of his corner and back to an Arkham police van.

At the sight of The Question and The Riddler, The Flash runs up while rubbing his head: "We heard you through the comms. I have a headache from all those questions...why didn't you just fight him? Wouldn't it have been faster?"

Question hands over The Riddler and turns to the speedster: "I thought you were tired of the questions yet you ask me some?"

The mysterious man turns to look at the van driving away while placing a hand on the Flash's shoulder: "Is the easiest and quickest path always the wisest to choose? I think slow and steady has won this race my friend."

(Look...idk what random post/writing this is? I'm not expecting this to be good because I wrote this very randomly lol, with the thought of what would happen if two question asking people interacted. I started out with it being silly and somehow got...deep?...about it towards the end. And if no one could tell, Questions last question to Flash was supposed to mean he didn't want to fight an essentially confused man that day (he wouldn't mind fighting him any other time I'm sure lol), he already has too much on his mind so why not provide that hope he's so often denied by society in the form of long-winded questions...or something like that 😂.

You all please stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

[silvaurum]

i am, at my heart, a helper. i want to help. i want to make things better. i want to see things go well, and i want to make sure that people around me have good experiences. i feel fulfilled when i can provide or create an experience that makes someone feel... human, relaxed, cherished, joyful, seen, cared for.

one of the things that moved me so much on my psychonautic trip was the preparations i had made for myself. i got myself fruit and drinks and comfortable space. and then i was so high i forgot all about everything outside my immediate perception. and i was so moved when i realized that i had made sure i had good and delicious food to eat, and clear water to drink, and soft blankets to lay in. i did that for me, i loved myself so deeply that i made those preparations for myself even when i wouldn't know or think about them later.

maybe part of it moved me because i wondered, on previous attempts, where i'd been interrupted and had to essentially stay sober to babysit everyone else. and in day to day life at that time, where i'd been... so used to being asked to help and not having the internal sense of autonomy to say no. and, been in this pattern of even when i'm clearly doing something, busy, i'd be interrupted to be asked to switch tasks immediately, and other people doing nothing has been passed by physically and ignored to interrupt me specifically. and i was no comfortable, at that time, in asking for anything like this. because, i suppose in part, it felt like such an insult to be imposed upon by others, that i could not imagine it being moral to impose in that way in return. (which... i don't, because thats not necessary. "no" is an answer and i can say "im busy".)

and because of that resentment i also felt disgruntled even when someone went slightly out of their way for me, because instead of showing care, it felt to me like they were... maybe apologizing or trying to manipulate me into continuing this relational system and its lack of boundaries. i couldnt feel grateful for anything because nothing felt kind. it felt like a consolation prize for having no sense of autonomy. "sorry you're not free to do anything without being at my beck and call. i have given you a donut to make us even."

whereas feeling my love for myself was...

the love and care and joy was unbridled, which is a metafor for a horse running free, but it was more like a tide rushing in, or more like a flood plain in spring, bringing life to the banks of the nile so that everything would grow again.

and after being... made aware, awashed in, the fact of my love for myself and that my one precious life is only mine, it was easier to say no and to speak my feelings on these things. because i loved myself. it was easy to speak up for one i love. and in turn i could process the resentment and cut off the source from building it up.

and yet. i sometimes think, when i have been busy, like now, working for things that are somewhat for other peoples benefit more than mine. because i am a helper. i want to make things nice. i want to make it work. i want it to be the way that i imagine it, and be joyful, and be...

i wonder if i... am not helping out myself more for a reason. making things nice for myself. that is a good reason to do so many of the things that were once a chore. they might be a bit of a pain (getting the momentum to overcome the... what is the chemistry term, the energy bump, the starting energy, the change in momentum that takes a bigger push than continnuing to do it once its been started.) but if i think about how nice i'll feel or how much easier it will be for my self and my comfort and my joy, it is much easier.

and i wonder why i dont make it a bigger priority. is it because i still sometimes dont feel worthy? well. i mean yes that seems obvious if that's true. why wouldn't i feel worthy? hm, well yes, those problems don't go away overnight, even when god speaks to you and breaks the blockages out of your energy. they are familiar grooves. they settle in again. they are clear for a moment but it still takes time to build up the... arterial capacity of that energy. the lung space. the flexibility. the new worn in grooves in the thought space. i love me. what do I want? what would be good to my heart? what would be kind to me?

[the-faceless-bride]

In need of 'Correction'...

Summary -> You were working for the other side, and while trying to plant bugs to gather information you end up getting caught, and while you thought you would end up dead... It somehow leads to something else... It seems the ones who caught you deem you in need of correction... A sweet doe-eyed thing like you wouldn't have done something like this on your own, you've clearly been manipulated... Don't worry, they'll help you.

⚠️warnings: porn w/ little to no plot, Non-con/Dub-con, forced orgasms, squirting, double penetration, anal (reader receiving), manipulation, mind break (?), yandere behavior (if you squint), ooc task force 141, I tried my best to keep reader GN! Read is called Pretty and has a vigina, reader is smaller than tf 141, readers codename is "Bandit", smut, slapping, being held against will, forced kissing, forced touching, forced oral (giving and receiving), interrogation, threats, dark content, violence against reader, might make a part 2 if you really like it, let me know if I missed anything!!!⚠️

Characters include: John Price, Johnny Soap, Simon Ghost, Kyle Gaz, Alejandro

A/n: I'm not the best at writing in Spanish, correct me if I write something wrong or incorrect, also I've been gone for a while so I'm a little rusty, please forgive me if it's shitty, ESPECIALLY the smut. If you have any tips I appreciate it, likes and reblogs are welcome!

You woke up with a throbbing in your head, your vision slightly blurred and your skin felt gross with the amount of dried blood that had been caked onto your face under your mask. You looked around, you were tied to a wooden chair and pushed into a small table, a single bright light illuminating the small room. an investigation room?.where were you? You don't remember much but you do remember being sent to plant bugs where the information is sent and getting information on some files...

You held onto the rafters crawling across as quickly and quietly as you could. Trying to reach the vents to crawl through and get right into the main office, you needed to plant a few bugs to get important information about some files and documents.

When you got into the vents you crawled around for a while trying to remember the layout you saw on the map. But you stopped when you heard voices. "-not sure, but whoever they are, they're smart. We gotta find them. They could be useful." another voice. "Maybe they can be persuaded to join our side? Money?" another voice. "tsk- shouldn't give money to a waste of air. How the hell sells out for money?! A disgrace if you ask me." they were talking about you. they wanted to get you on their side? Why? What for? Information? Skill? Or- oh shit.

The vent creaked.

All hell broke loose. Everyone in that room from what you heard got up and scattered to block off your only exits. You had to move fast.

You thought for a moment and chose to take the long way. You kicked open the grate beneath you and drop to the floor below. You ran out of the room. Taking turns. Trying to remember the way out.

Left.

Right.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Then your luck ran out and you slammed into someone's chest. You might know all their names, but you would be an idiot to not know him.

Ghost.

Then after a moment, he held you tightly the mask over your face becoming suffocating. And your vision began to blur.

He let you go and your head hit the wall, and you finally blacked out.

You didn't have more time to think before the door slammed open and a group of men walked through. They were all eyeing you. A dark hunger in their eyes.

One takes a step forward. You assume he is Captain Price. You try not to flinch as he rips the mask from your head. You still flinched. Some parts of your hair stick to your face. You fight the urge to try and wipe it off. Not wanting to risk taking your eyes off of the group of men that stood in front of you.

"hm-" a man huffed looking at you "When I pictured you, I didn't think you'd be so... Pretty?" a man with a Scottish accent thought out loud, the man next to him chuckled. "Soap, Gaz. Please. Keep it in your pants... For now." Ghost sighed.

Soap. And Gaz. That was their names...

You looked back to Price, he pouts in mock sympathy. Before pulling over a chai and sitting across from you.

"what's your name." he wasn't asking. He was giving you a command. His voice was deep and dripped with authority. In other circumstances, you would've felt flustered. But at this moment you were just scared. You weren't an idiot. These men were all bigger than you. You were a good fighter. But you knew if you tried to fight you would lose. And you didn't want to die here.

You looked up, making eye contact with Price. "I... I'm Bandit." you tried to hold eye contact but it was difficult. It felt like he was looking into the depths of your soul. You looked at your feet. Only to jump when his hand slammed on the table.

A faint, "aw" could be heard. You felt pathetic. "well. Bandit. You don't seem cut out for this kind of work. Too soft. Too jumpy. I don't wanna have to hurt that pretty face. So why don't you just tell me what you know? Confirm who you work for, and why you are on their side. And I might think about letting you go without a scare on you."

You look from him to the men behind him, back to your feet. You couldn't tell them anything. Even if they let you go after this you'll be tracked down. From where you sit. Both end in death. You didn't know these men well. But you knew the men you worked with. They were cruel, and unforgiving, and would skin you alive and leave you for the rats to pick at. You chose to take your chances with these men.

"oh? No longer interested in talking? Fine. But you asked for it. Alejandro. If you wouldn't mind?" Price stood from his chair. And the man Alejandro walked towards you. Your heart rate picked up.

You didn't get a moment to think as a hard smack was sent to the side of your face, fuck did it hurt. You tried to hold in the tears as a whimper escaped you. Blow after blow to your ribs, cheek, legs, and hands. All dealt with the same amount of unforgiving force. Ten minutes in you were a whimpering tear-stained mess. Small gasps of "stop." and "please." you were never cut out for this pain. You had always stayed in the shadows away from the fire. Now you curse yourself for not training your body and pain tolerance.

The strikes stopped and the man named Gaz took a step forward, his hand coming up to your face and you flinch away. He coos at you. Mocking you.

"you poor thing. You just want this to stop." you lightly nod your head as he takes a rag that he dipped in a bucket of freezing water - was that bucket always there? - he softly runs the rag over your face cleaning you of the blood and sweat. Using a hand to move hair from your face. The softness makes you mean into his touch. No longer wanting the painful touch.

"If you want this to stop, all you have to do is tell us what you know. What they know and why. Okay?" your lip trembles, "I can't." you whisper. "It was just meant to be a quick cash grab. I needed to help pay off a debt and this money was meant to help. If I tell you I either end up dead or tracked down and beaten to death later." Gaz looks into your eyes for a moment before they shift to the other men. They all seem to nod their heads, having a secret conversation with themselves. "we can protect you. As long as you work for us instead."

"b-but I don't know anything important about the people who hired me. I-" he and the rest of the men let out low chuckles, "no, we don't mean that kind of work. Just, allow us to show you how you've been wrong and do some... Physical work for us."

"physical work? But I'm not as strong as you guys and I don't have that much pain tolerance when it comes to this stuff and-" you were cut off, "don't worry, you'll get more of a tolerance and you being weaker is just how we like it." you were so focused on trying to put the pieces together to notice the rest of the men closing in on you, "I can see in your pretty eyes that your confused, allow as to make it nice and easy for you to understand."

The ropes around your hands and legs were snapped and you were lifted onto the table. Soap and Alejandro held down your legs, as Ghost and Price help your arms, Gaz worked on unbuckling your belt. After a moment of shock, the pieces finally fell into their place.

You began to struggle. "wait! I- you can't! Let go! Let me go!" Alejandro laughs at your cries, "More vocal now, aren't you pequeña? Just enjoy it. It's better than the pain before isn't it?"

Your pants are now around your knees, you wish you could close your legs or cover them but you can't. "don't worry love, I'll be nice. I'll prepare you a little." Gaz smiles at you as he lowers his head. Pressing a kiss to your clit before taking a long and slow lick up your cunt. "no please!" you struggle to keep yourself composed.

He kisses and sucks lightly on your clit, coaxing more sweet slick to drip from you. You don't wanna like it. You've never felt such pleasure in this way before. You didn't have sex a lot with your job but when you did it was rushed and didn't focus solely on you. But at this moment that was the only thing happening.

You felt him push a finger in, searching for that sweet spot that would make you cry out. And after a moment a gasp from you told Gaz that he had found it. He then pushed in another finger, both pushing against that spongy spot within you, sucking your clit at the same time. Your back arches. Stop it! You don't want this. You don't want to like this. This was wrong. Gross. So why did your body respond so willingly to him?

"she's fighting it." Ghost groans out. Clearly enjoying your sounds of struggle and strangled whimpers.

"awe, com'on hen. Let go. Enjoy it."

You gasp as you feel the knot start to tighten more and more. Don't. Don't you dare. If you do they'll win! You can't! Don't!-

You gasp. you feel a gush of liquid as the knot pulls tight and snaps. You look up, your vision around you blurring as you look into the one light above you. After a beat, you look down between your legs. Gaz's lips, chin, and even his nose were covered in your slick. You felt your face go warm with embarrassment, you had never done that before.

"oh fuck yeah-" Soap groans out and the others make a sound of agreement, all of them now all over you. Your body feels numb and you don't know if you have it in you to struggle. Soap kissed his way up to your chest playing with your chest, Alejandro kissed and left marks on your hips, Price and Ghost kissed your neck and collarbone.

You heard the sound of a belt buckle before feeling something warm, soft, and round rubbing against your entrance. You whimper knowing what's coming.

"oh lovie don't whine like that, you'll almost make me feel bad." Gaz teased slowly pushing in with a soft sigh as you clench around him. He leans over careful of the others and kisses you. The kiss is sickeningly sweet and soft. The soft whine he makes also does no favors in helping you keep your composer.

Soap pulls away with a light, "fuck it" as he makes his way over to the other side undoing his belt, "Hen, mind given me a hand?" you don't really get to respond as he takes your hand and wraps it around his cock, using your hand as a fucktoy the precum oozing and making your hand slick and sticky. "oh, yeah hen~ such a good little pet~" he sighs Alejandro soon joining his making you use both hands, both men grinning as they chase their pleasure.

Gaz thrusts a few times testing to see if you've relaxed a bit more so he could slide in and out easier. Once he was satisfied he pulled away making a motion towards the other men, they all move to the side. Soap and Alejandro stroking their girths, Price and Ghost finally undoing their belts.

You were now laid onto of Gaz as he pushed himself back into your dripping pussy, Soap and Alejandro taking your hands to stroke their cocks again, Price and Ghost finally picking their spots.

Ghost pushes his angry red tip against your plush lips, his eyes giving you a warning to dare and disobey the Silent order. And Price made his way behind you with Gaz, he wasn't as kind as Gaz was he simply spreads your ass apart before spitting and letting his tip do the work of spreading the makeshift lube.

You lick your lips nervously as you slowly open your mouth for the man looming over you. He wastes no time pushing his way into your mouth and thrusting his hips making sure to touch the back of your throat each time. And Price simply pushed in, no warning, no stretch, the burn was painful. It made you whine and sputter around Ghost who was starting up an unforgiving rhythm that would surely leave your throat raw.

The mix of Pain from Price, the pleasure from Gaz and his perfectly arched cock hitting the most sensitive part inside of you, and the lack of oxygen due to Ghost's unforgiving thrusts and the dirty words in your ears from Alejandro and Soap was overwhelming. But fuck was it good.

All these feelings, the fear inside of you, the lust. You just couldn't take it anymore. Fighting would be useless at this point.

You start pumping Soap and Alejandro faster, they both let out a surprised sigh but quickly allow themselves to be taken care of.

"that's it hen, be a good little toy for us~ fuck your so hot hen~"

"Sí, así como así mi amor. Esa es una buena chica, sigue acariciándome así."

Ghost groans with a smirk, you can't see it behind his mask but if you could you'd melt.

"That's it dear, focus on sucking that cock. You like taking my cock, don't you? You'll swallow it all right baby?"

Gaz and Price fucking into you.

"Fucking Slut, you like taking cock huh? you like the way I fuck you? Fuck your tight, never taking it in the ass before huh? Well, you're gonna have to get used to it my little slut."

"Fuck lovie, you're so good for us. You'll be good, right? You'll stay and be our little cock slut? You'll play nice right? Can't wait for the others to see you like this. Such a perfect little pet for us~"

You whimper and moan, Fuck you're gonna cum again. And from the sounds around you, so are they.

In a few moments, Soap lets out a sweet moan and paints the left side of your face white with his cum. The sight made Alejandro groan, you looked so pretty, covering the right side of your face with His cum too. They pull away admiring their work.

Ghost's hips pick up in spread before he slams down holding your head in place, your nose against the ash-blonde happy trail. Cum flowed down your throat, swallowing all you could. He pulls back as you cough and suck in as much air as you could.

Your hands shoot down to hold onto Gaz's shoulders, your moans now free for all to hear. You moan as you feel yourself squirt again all over Gaz's thighs, a moment later feeling both men fill you with their cum. Price was the first to pull out with a low chuckle.

"so what do you say Lovie? Wanna stay with us? I promise we'll give you lots of orgasms~"

Part 2 ->

[lykaonimagines]

Hey Stephen - Stephen Strange x Reader

Slowly working through requests now 💙

Paring: Stephen Strange x F!Reader

Word Count: 807

Description: Stephen catches Y/N playing the song she wrote about him.

Request: "Could I have something fluffy with our Stephen and the song "Hey Stephen" - Taylor swift? Maybe she sings it?”

Requested by: Anon 

Other Things: Just fluff. Lyrics from “Hey Stephen,” by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: None.

Masterlist

Portaling back into the Sanctum, Stephen is instantly met by the distant sound of a guitar further in the building.

Heading upstairs and down the halls in search of the source, he comes to the doorway of the music room at the back of the large mansion.

His former apprentice and now co-Master, Y/N sits on a chair strumming a guitar with her back to him. Before he can step into the room, she starts to sing.

“Hey Stephen, I’ve been holding back this feeling so I’ve got some things to say to you. I seen it all, so I thought, but I never seen nobody shine the way you do. The way you walk, way you talk, way you say my name. It’s beautiful, wonderful, don’t you ever change.”

His eyes widening at the words she sings, he quietly slips into the room and leans against the back wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hey Stephen why are people always leavin’? I think you and I should stay the same,” she continues, a curve to her lips he can now see from his new angle as she continues to sing.

“Cause I can’t help it if you look like an angel. Can’t help it if I wanna kiss you in the rain so. Come feel this magic I’ve been feeling since I met you, can’t help it if there’s no one else. Mmm I can’t help myself.”

“You can’t help yourself hm?” he asks as she hits a break in the singing.

A shriek escapes her as her guitar falls to the ground and she scrambles out of the chair, turning to him with wide eyes, “S-Stephen! H-how long have you been there?”

Fixing her with a smirk he carelessly shrugged his shoulder. “Long enough. Don’t think I’ve heard that one, some indy song?”

She looks to the ground immediately, clenching and unclenching her fists before sighing and closing her eyes, “No. I wrote it.”

The smirk on his face drops, and his heart seemingly skips a beat, “Wait… you wrote that, about me?”

“Yes.”

Pushing himself off the wall, he crosses the room to stand in front of her. His hand gently goes to her chin, lifting it to look at him, a soft smile on his face directed toward her, “Do you mean all of that?”

Her eyes finally meet his and a nervous smile spreads across her lips as she nods against him.

“I don’t think anyone has ever… done something that thoughtful or time intensive for me,” he admits, his thumb stroking over her jaw. “Or said anything that nice about me if we’re being honest. It’s usually I’m an asshole followed by one positive quality that makes putting up with the previous statement worth it.”

“You can be a bit of an asshole,” she chuckles softly. “But it’s oddly endearing. Surface reaction and sass covering the very sweet guy underneath. You care really deeply, you’re just scared for someone to see that.”

He feels his cheeks flushing as his own eye contact wavers for a moment before settling back on her, “Writing songs about me and quietly psychoanalyzing me between tasks hm Y/N?”

“We do spend a lot of time together,” she shrugs. “I’d… like to think we’re pretty close in the years I’ve been here.”

Leaning in closer to her, he watches her closely as his lips near hers. Her breathing quickens and her pulse under his pinky on her neck intensifies. Her eyes flicker between his eyes and lips.

He smiles as he looks down at her, slowly pressing his lips against hers and holding them still until she moves against them. His free arm wraps around her waist to bring her in closer as she whimpers against his lips.

When he pulls back for air, she stares back at him breathing heavily, the tip of her tongue quickly swiping across her lips.

Letting go of her chin, he drops his other arm to her waist and presses his forehead to hers, “You are the beautiful and wonderful one, and I’ve certainly been feeling that magic.”

“And you never said anything?” she teases softly, her own hands settling on his hips.

“Says the one that wrote an entire song about me and didn’t even let me hear it, I had to walk in on this,” he retorts with a grin.

“How about for the next one I let you hear it as soon as it’s done?”

“Oh? There’s going to be another?”

“If you play your cards right, I think there could be many more to come,” she grins up at him and presses a kiss to his nose.”

Chuckling against her, his face softens as he gives her a warm smile, “Then I’ll have to make sure they’re all happy songs darling.”

----

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[kali-co]

々 m.list

◞ 𓏲 ꘪ Cardiologist!albedo

𓂅 ˑ ִֶָ  getting fucked by your doctor but maybe it's a bit more than sex.

Sitting on the rather cold dark blue medical chair, yet its a kind of comforting cold that struck up a few old memories. Letting your index finger roam around on your thigh making small incomplete patterns waiting for the office door to swing open.

You've always liked it in his office and maybe this is unprofessional seeing his position as your trusted doctor, but maybe that was part of the apell. Oh please, who do you think you are some star in a hallmark movie? He's your doctor, nothing more nothing less.

Before albedo let you carry on with pointless internal monologue he stepped into his office seemingly unaware of your crisis about your feelings for him. Removing the used yet clean white gloves and dropping them in a small black bin.

"My apologies for being late (name), sucrose had a bit of trouble with one of her diagnostics," darting his azure deep orbs into your direction almost in a hypnotic manner. "Although seeing your attire you probably aren't her for something serious, am I correct?"

Looking to the medical cabinet trying to poorly distract yourself. "A- yea I was just having some chest pains and was wondering if you could check it out,"

He grabs some new gloves off the table, sliding them onto his lengthy fingers pinching the rim and letting it go making a slight popping sound. "Since this isn't serious, you could leave your shirt on, or not the choice is yours."

This would probably have been the most embarrassing part of visiting your cardiologists, not for you though it's almost as if he's seen you without your top 100 times, yet his light whenever you do.

Removing the white top and unbuttoning the second to last button, last button is where you have problems, it just won't seem to budge.

You feel a familiar hand assist you and unbutton the last one for you. He doesn't waste a second and  his cold hands under your tits, grabbing some gadget that you had no understanding of yet have seen so much and places it on your chest. 

Albedo cuts three the sound of the air conditioning and several other machinery with a rhetorical question "Why is it you always take your shirt off even when it isn't necessary, normally it'd be a rather embarrassing experience for someone to take their shirt off in front of a total stranger."

"You're not a stranger."

Giving you a sarcastic smirk not taking his eyes off the task at hand, and little do you know he's "checking out" way more than your chest pains. "Then what am I ?"

The room goes silent for a while, he pulls you in for a kiss, mixed saliva dripping down your chin as he continues to fondle with your tits fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples.

A pool forms in your panties as his left hand grabs onto your lower hip in place to keep you from squirming and right hand playing with your breast and saliva now down at your collarbone.

He drags away from the kiss string of spit flowing between both of your lips now broken, "sorry for giving you a question I can't answer myself" as soon as the words slip out of his mouth he slips his tongue right back in your mouth as if he's been starved of this exact moment. 

Breathy moans filling the air, he semi slides your underwear off "can I?" You shake your replying with a yes. As soon as he got what he needed he pushed you back on the cushioned medical chair.

Letting his saliva drip down to your cunt, pussy now glistening in his spit as he takes sadistic pleasure in watching your hole tighten up around nothing. But he takes pity on you and admires as your cunt engulfs his finger liquids spilling all over the chair as he twist his fingers in and out of you.

"Fuck- bedo please go faster,"

"Says who, is that an order?" God does this man love playing with you, he awaits an answer watching you through your thighs.

"Please bedo ngh- swear won't ask for anything else,"

"Hm, I doubt that but you look too desperate to deny." And with that he continues to play with your pretty pussy fingers hitting that spot multiple times. He put his tongue up against your clit licking it and getting more of his sloppy saliva all over you.

"Ahh..bedo m' gonna cu-m" saying your sentence with pathetic sniffles that were too cute for him to turn down.

Place his palm on your thigh holding you down so you don't move too much "I know baby I know, just let go m'kay?"

Your juice squirts all over his mouth and fingers, yet he seems pleased with matter. He hands you a set of keys "we'll continue in the car angle,ok?" You take the car keys and walk out of the office, lucky the parking lot isn't far from it.

As you leave the office bedo throws his head up with a deep groan while leaning back on the table. 

'Fuck, what actually are we?'

[sugarylawliet]

can I request light dating L’s younger sister (if that’s ok with you)

YEAH :D made them headcanons i hope that's cool

warnings: a makeout scene lol

- When L realized that he didn't have anyone on his intelligence level that was fully on his side, he decided to bring you onto the investigation and invited you to headquarters, as not only could he 100% trust you, he knew you were as smart as him.

- However, his hopes of having someone as smart as him on his side to help him were soon diminished when he noticed how close you and Light were to each other.

- You and Light weren't dating at first, in fact you would never even consider dating the man your brother suspected as Kira. however, at work, you couldn't deny the deep sexual tension between the two of you. His touch would linger too long when he placed his hand on your hip to move past you, his touch was soft when he handed you documents, he often spoke low and directly into your ear. He was quite the persuasive man when he wanted to be, and you soon found yourself falling for the man you thought you hated.

- When L noticed the tension between you and Light, of course, he wasn't pleased, but he didn't bring it up with light right away. He decided that, regretfully, it may be useful as Light might entrust you with information about Kira, at least for now.

- However, he didn't tell you that, of course. He often chastised you when the two of you were alone, reminding you that Light is absolutely Kira and I need to protect my little sister from evil.

- While it was true that you couldn't deny the suspicion and circumstantial evidence against Light, you defended yourself by telling L that you're grown and don't need him to look after you, that you can think for yourself.

- "If you could really think for yourself, you wouldn't be dating Kira," He sighs, "I really thought better of you, Y/N. Fooled by attractiveness and charm? That's not the detective I know."

- "I am not fooled by anything, L. Can't you just stay out of my personal life? And we're not even dating, anyway."

- Well, that would change with time as the weeks went on, Light had asked you out privately and, against every bone in your body, his soft hazel eyes and the purr in his voice were always too enticing, seeping into your emotions and pulling out the answer he wanted. You accepted.

- While nobody else on the task force was quite observant of your mannerisms enough to suspect you and light of being a couple, except for maybe Matsuda, that hopeless romantic, as the investigation continued, the task force spent most of their lives together, even residing in and sleeping in the new headquarters, and thus it became harder to be so subtle with your boyfriend. Typically the two of you kept PDA outside of work, however nowadays there really wasn't a personal life, only the Kira investigation.

- This of course ticked L off to no end.

- He would often shoot glances and dirty looks if you even went near Light. Light would often call you over to ask your opinion about something he was looking at on the computer, and everytime you leaned over him or placed a hand on his shoulder, L, sitting next to light, scowled audibley. you rolled your eyes, wondering if anyone else noticed the tension between the three of you.

- In private moments, Light sometimes brought up your brother.

- "Hm, I wonder what Ryuzaki would think of you like this, all over me..."

- "Hah, what would Ryuzaki think, his little innocent sister in love with me, the man he suspects of being a mass murderer."

- It seemed Light got off on the thought....

- Of course, as one of the greatest detectives in the world (second only to your arrogant brother but still above your bratty heirs), you had your suspicions and doubts about Light Yagami, however somehow they always seemed unimportant when he walked into the room; they melted away when he kissed you and they outright didn't matter when he touched you. You somehow always managed to push them aside.

- Soon enough, Light trusted you enough to reveal that he was Kira, however you decided not to tell your brother. It's not like you were on Kira's side, in fact at this point you found yourself on neither man's side. You wanted your brother to win and Kira to lose, of course, but you were also involved with Light and casually decided not to tell L about Light's confession. You rationalized it in your mind by thinking that if L was worthy of his title, he would prove Light to be Kira without your help.

- One evening when the rest of the task force went out to order food for everyone, you and Light volunteered to stay at headquarters to guard the place and get some more work done. This plan obviously was disregarded soon after everyone else left in favor of straddling Light in his chair and making out.

- Light bucks his hips upwards, earning a sharp gasp from you. You moan slightly, beginning to roll your hips and grind into him.

- You break the kiss, Light deciding to kiss your neck instead while you talked, "Light, they'll be back... what if they walk in?"

- Light smirks against your neck, grabbing your butt to push you harder to grind against his crotch, causing you to moan. He chuckles, "You say that, but you sound like you sure don't wanna stop."

- "Light, what if they see..."

- "Let them," He continues nipping at your neck as his hands move to your hips, encouraging you to keep rolling against him "Let Ryuzaki see his innocent little sister desperate in Kira's lap, at my mercy..."

- Let's just say both Soichiro and L were not so pleased when they walked in. Matsuda, however, was squealing like a little girl about "young love"

- You hopped off of Light right away and returned to your work as if nothing happened, but the tension in the room was undeniable. And as Soichiro scolded his son about "acting professional in the workplace", L called you into the other room for a talk.

- After a joking threat to send you back to the Wammy house, you agreed to not date Light anymore, however that of course didn't happen, you only limited your PDA with him in front of L.

[chosonore]

summary: gojo has a sweet tooth but the sweetest thing he craves is you.

a/n: aha apparently i'm on a roll with all the fluff? this was supposed to be 1k words of fluff but slandering gojo but i just didn't have the heart to lmaoo i'm all bark no bite. for miss ramsay, whom i've announced to that i would be writing this haha

“yo- hooo! honey, i’m home!” gojo’s sudden announcement of his return scared the shit out of you, making you drop the spoon you were holding. the metallic clang of the spoon on the counter mingled with gojo’s melodious laughter, filling the previously quiet apartment with life. he leaned over the counter, pressing a kiss to your cheek. gojo knew full well that you were easily scared, having scolded him on multiple occasions not to just appear in the apartment out of nowhere. still, he couldn’t help but doing it every now and then to see you jump out of your skin - you were just too adorable, especially the pout on your lips afterwards that he would always kiss away.

suspiciously, you eyed the bag gojo placed on the counter and gave him an even more suspicious look when he didn’t meet your eye. “you went and got mochi again, didn’t you?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“satoooruuu,” you whined, jabbing your finger at his chest. “i told you not to eat so many sweets, it’ll ruin your teeth. and don’t eat them before dinner, you’ll just get a stomach ache. and complain about not being able to finish your portion.”

“i know, i know, but i couldn’t help it. just a little end of workday treat? no?” he made some kissy noises as he rounded the corner to wrap you into his arms, grinning when you tried to slither your way out of his grasp. “don’t you think your awesome, sweet and handsome boyfriend deserves some love for his good - no, excellent - work?”

“uh i think my awesome, sweet and handsome boyfriend should help me make dinner,” you retorted with a slightly annoyed voice. you couldn’t stay mad at him for too long, not when he was always so good to you despite his eccentric and loud personality that drowned out everything else. his presence filled up every corner of your life, so big and full of life that it was difficult to think of anything else. not that you minded, you loved him after all. but every now and then, it became a little overbearing. it was then that you realized why some of the other sorcerers were often annoyed by him. the walls around his heart and vulnerable self were high, clad in iron and spikes. nothing could shake him to the core, he was always prepared for everything, always on guard. after all, throughout heaven and earth, he alone was the honored one.

as your relationship progressed, your dynamic became like the tides of the sea. a calm force, a gentle push and pull that slowly eroded the walls around your hearts, allowing them to instead fill with each others’ warmth. with only you around, he was willing to open up and let you in. gradually, you learned more and more about him. about his past, his fears, his hopes. he trusted you with everything, trusted you more than anyone else in this world. and just like the tides, he allowed you to flood his senses and thoughts as soon as he was in the comfort of your home.

“fine, what can your humble servant do for you?” you rolled your eyes and handed him a handful of potatoes and instructed him to peel them and cut them into small wedges so you could roast them in the oven. gojo grumbled a little, not liking this task one bit but proceeded nonetheless. he took the infamous blindfold off, tossing it in the basket near the entrance. tousling his unruly hair to fix it, he then came back to resume his task. as he cut the potatoes, he was quietly humming to a familiar tune, one that you recognized as one of the songs you’d introduced to him a week ago. it made you smile, knowing that he memorized the little things about you, that made you so undeniably and unequivocally you.

you turned your back to him, busying yourself with the sauce that you were preparing. gojo might be really bad at cooking but you trusted him not to hurt himself or turn the potatoes into a complete disaster. it didn’t stay quiet for too long - a few minutes later, you could hear gojo giggling behind you. first quietly, then louder, a joyful laughter like that of a child. you turned to see what he was up to, only to see him hold a potato up.

“look, i cut a potato in the shape of a heart,” gojo was still giggling, barely able to contain the laughter. he was snorting, for some reason finding the potato so funny that he couldn’t stop. “i’m in love with the shape of you.” his own joke made him laugh even more, leaving you staring at him confused. but his laughter was contagious, making the corners of your lips lift just the slightest.

“are you saying i’m a potato? a heart shaped potato?”

“no, i would never!” gojo gasped, clutching his chest as he was trying to catch his breath. “i’m saying that you’re love-shaped. if love had a form, it would be you.”

“you’re not making any sense,” you snorted but couldn’t help but feel touched at his words. looking away from him, you tried to hide the tears that were gathering at the corners of your eyes. sometimes, you still couldn’t believe that you snagged someone like him. in weak moments, the overwhelming intensity of your feelings for him often made y ou question whether this was real, whether this wasn’t just a comfortable and happy dream that you would have to wake up from.

“are you crying?” gojo asked concerned, quickly padding over to you to engulf you in a hug. defiantly, you shook your head, not wanting him to worry about your silly outburst of emotion. he grabbed your chin, tilting it up so you would look at him. the sight of his cerulean eyes was something you could probably never get used to, blue like the bright sky on a sunny day and glimmering with mysteries that you sought to uncover. he reached up to wipe your tears away, peppering soft butterfly kisses across your face. “i didn’t mean to make you cry. was it because you thought i insinuated that you were a potato? you're not a potato at all. more of a peach, maybe.”

“no, of course not,” vehemently, you shook your head. “uh i just thought what you said about me being love-shaped was really uh. nice of you.”

gojo grinned, wrapping his free arm around your waist to pull you flush against his body and pressed his warm lips against yours. “you know i love you, hm? my love-shaped human being,” he mumbled, pretending to bite your cheek. you laughed, swatting him gently and tried to push him away. “you’re so sweet, i could just eat you up.”

“shut up, satoru. we all know you prefer the mochis more.”

“huh, who said that?? out of all sweets, you’re my favourite.”

[fireandspiceland]

oh densu anon I’m sorry that every thought I have about them ends up with my nordics polycule :0 but here’s some more about them!

I think Denmark is the type to start shit with the others just to get railed and ... and … and this is going to sound a lot like it’s not about densu … but we’re getting there! I promise!!

First he pesters Finland, but Tino ‘born to dom the shit out of you’ Väinämöinen looks right behind his intentions when Denmark and kindly smiles at him as he continues whatever task he’s busy with (I imagine him making some homemade treats in the kitchen ☺️). Finland would say something like “Oh sweetheart, that’s so cute! But I’m busy right now, maybe someone else wants to play with you?” and Denmark is trotting off with his cheeks and ears bright red from being seen though so easily.

Defeated but still determined to get fucked against a wall or into a mattress, Denmark spots his loving and beloved husband reading in the living room and while he’s trying to be so sneaky and nonchalant sauntering into the room- “No.” Norway doesn’t even look up from his book and turns the page. “…I didn’t say anything?” “You’re about to annoy me until I fuck you to make you shut up, I know you. And I’m telling you it’s not happening.” Now this is where Denmark could 1) REALLY annoy Norway or 2) check his last option.

And 2) it is! Denmark finds Sweden in the bedroom - how convenient huh - tending to the various plants filling the windowsills. “Hey, Swe’!” “Hm?” okay I honestly can’t think of anything that pisses Sweden off THAT much (so fill me in if you do) but soon or later Denmark finds himself pushed down onto the mattress and Sweden can feel the tension leave his body. The relief of finally FINALLY getting someone where he wants him to be or rather them getting HIM where they want him to be leaves Denmark submit immediately. Sweden is always a little uncertain about continuing when Denmark melts under his rough touches like this, but the pleas coming from Denmark are all it needs for Sweden to fuck him from behind while pulling his head back to bruise his lips with kisses.

And both Finland and Norway smile to themselves when moans and screams of pleasure fill the house <3

[aubreyprc]

The Call

summary - emily gets hurt, hotch can’t let her go.

word count - 2.2k (i am currently taking requests. find the prompts here! feel free to leave a plot as well as dialogue if you so choose!!)

It was supposed to be a simple, easy day. A day off. Their day off. Spent under the covers. Spent watching her walk through his home as if she belongs there, because she does. They were supposed to spend it wrapped up together in his sheets, whispering small confessions, promises of a future, smiles and chaste kisses.

Instead he spends it holding her body closer to him while she struggles for breath, gripping at her hand, whispering small pleads for more time through tears while she chokes, gasping for air that just will not reach her lungs.

Instead of spending their day off wrapped up in each other he spends it begging her to hold on before she’s whisked away, sirens and muffled voices surrounding him as he watches the blue lights fade into the distance while he’s pushed into the back of an SUV, his teams voices sounding far away as they rush to their own vehicles.

“I should have ignored the call.” he mutters to himself, staring down at the blood covering his hands, his shirt. “I should have..” he trails off, staring at the hand that latches in his and he turns, JJ’s eyes burning into his, the same pain he feels reflecting back at him.

“She’s going to be okay.” She whispers, a smile on her face as tears roll down her cheek.

Both of their eyes drop to his hands, ones that are coated red with her blood, and he swallows.

Is she?

Twelve Hours Ago

He wakes first, the soft light of the sun poking through the blinds interrupting his peaceful slumber. He peels an eye open slowly, staring daggers at the harsh light as though he could force it to disappear. He turns his head towards the alarm, the early hours of the morning staring back at him as he groans, turning onto his side away from the window and draping an arm gently over the sleeping woman next him, still peacefully resting as she faces him, her hair spread out across the pillow, thin small strands tumbling down her face. He can’t help but smile, gently brushing away the hairs from her face while he looks at her, as he does every morning that he wakes before her. And just like those mornings, her eyes flutter open at the feel of his gaze and he smiles.

“Stop staring at me.” she mumbles, her voice groggy as she closes her eyes once again, sleep still calling her back under. “It’s our day off.” she tells him, her lip curving upwards as she feels his soft fingers trace her arm. “Go back to sleep. Embrace it.”

He goes to protest when she moves, curling her body into his chest and he smiles, resting his chin on her head as his arm wraps around her and he can’t help but close his eyes, drifting back to sleep once again a few moments later, the feel of her in his arms enough to send him back under peacefully.

She wakes up first a few hours later, still safely wrapped in his hold, his arm across her waist and she smiles, tilting her head to find him still asleep, his face peaceful as he rests. Slowly, she moves out of his arms, picking up his shirt from the bedroom floor and tiptoeing to the bathroom. Appearing from the room a few moments later, buttoning his shirt over her small frame she looks at him once more, smiling as she watches him sleep peacefully, something he had only started doing recently, no longer clouded by night terrors that pulled him awake during the night, no longer awake at dawn and unable to fall back under, he now rests, completely, and she can’t help but smile as he does.

Emily pads over to the kitchen, pulling out two mugs as she boils the kettle, looking out of the window as the day starts, she glances at the clock at rolls her eyes as eight o’clock stares back at her, cursing their jobs for their unpredictable sleeping pattern, and their inability to sleep in; The whistle of the kettle is was pulls her out of her thoughts.

Grabbing both cups of coffee she walks back into the bedroom, smirking as she finds him waking up, his arms stretched over his face. She sits on the bed, her legs tucked under her as she sips on her coffee.

“Good morning.” she smiles as he sits up, taking the coffee from her with a grin before leaning towards her, catching her lips in his.

“Good morning,” he whispers as she smiles into their kiss, “You look good in my shirt.”

“So you’ve told me.” she grins as he pulls away, “Many times.”

“And as I will continue to do.” Aaron smirks back, sipping his coffee. “Seeing as it’s our day off I assume I have the luxury of seeing you in this attire all day?”

“Hm.” she shrugs, eyeing him over her cup as she looks at him, “Maybe a little less if you’re lucky.”

He laugh, nodding his head as he smirks back at her, taking her hand and slowly leading her into his arms, as her back rests on his chest he smiles, kissing her temple as she leans into his side.

“I love you.” he whispers, watching as she smiles shyly, dipping her head before tilting to face him.

“I love you too.” she whispers back, pressing her lips into his, smiling as his arm wraps around her front.

His phone rings at half twelve and it makes the two of them groan in contempt. Sighing, she pulls her lips from his and drops it into his shoulder while he chuckles, running his fingers up her spine.

“Ignore it.” she tells him, turning her head and running a finger down his cheek. “It’s our day off.”

“Emily...” he says, laughing as she lifts her head up, looking down at him. He goes to speak again, but instead is silenced by her kiss.

“Ignore it.” she whispers as the phone stops ringing, he catches her lips in his again, dragging his fingers across her shoulders as he rakes his fingers through her hair.

The phone rings again and she groans, rolling off him and flopping onto her back, rolling her eyes as he chuckles, throwing an arm over her gently while he grabs the phone.

“Hotchner.” he says, looking at Emily as she sits up, resting her chin on his shoulder while he talks.

“It’s my teams day off, I don’t know if-” he says, just as displeased with the distribution, “Yes I understand that but surely there must be another team that-” he stops again, the voice on the other line over taking, he rubs a hand over his face then and Emily fake cries, dropping her forehead onto his shoulder as she pouts.

“Really?” she asks as he puts the phone down.

“Unfortunately.” he replies, “Something about a warehouse and a kidnapping. D.C task force asked for us specifically.”

“Maybe we should all just stop being good at our jobs, we’d get a day off.” she comments as he stands, grabbing her hands and lifting her off the bed with a dramatic huff.

“I’ll call JJ.” he says, “Coffee?” he asks on his way out of the bedroom and she nods, before walking into the bathroom.

It all falls apart pretty quickly after that. Four armed unsubs, three girls held hostage, all have been in captivity for over a week. After an hour of discussion and back and fourth with the armed men, a decision is made.

“We’ve got three snipers on the roof of the surrounding buildings, all have clear visuals through the windows but can’t make the shot without hurting the girls. We need someone in there, a distraction, as soon as the girls are out of shot my guys can take the men down.”

“All three girls at brunettes, dark eyes, slim.” One of the task force agents say and everyone’s eyes move to Emily, who stares straight back. “He has a type.”

“Which is exactly why she shouldn’t go in.” Morgan says protectively, “Sure they’ll loose their hold on the girls with enough time for at least one sniper to act but the minute one falls it’s over. They’ll take everyone down with them.”

“I’ll go in,” Emily says, looking back at the building, “I don’t think we have another choice.”

“There’s always another choice.” Aaron tells her, “You can’t go in there.”

“The girls have been in there for almost ten days.” she replies, “Do you have another option?”

“You’re not going in.” he tells her, his voice stern but only she catches the fear behind it, the way his voice shakes as he looks at her with pleading eyes, eyes that beg her please not do this but all she can do look back at him apologetically, already knowing there is no other options. That she has to do this.

“Emily are you sure?” Morgan asks her. Shifting her eyes from Aaron and back to the group she nods.

“You guys better have my back.” she tells the task force, who nod.

“Snipers are at the ready. The minute they turn their backs you grab the girls and you run.”

“This is far too risky.” Hotch says as he shakes his head, “They’re armed. There’s no way she can grab three teenage girls and run out of there-”

“Not alone.” Morgan tells her, “But in a pair it’s easier. One of the unsubs get shot by the sniper, they’re distracted, the girls have the opportunity to run, and while one takes them from the building the other takes the two men.”

“Sending someone else in is risky-” A task force agent says.

“So is sending anyone in alone.” Hotch says, agreeing with Morgan. He turns to Emily, “I’m going with you.”

“You can’t,” She says softly as she looks at him, “HR made is very clear-”

“I don’t care about HR, Emily-” He goes to argue before stopping himself. “I’m going in with you.”

“Okay.” She says, refusing to argue with him.

“Are you sure?” Morgan asks, “If Strauss finds out-”

“She won’t.” JJ says, raising an eyebrow at everyone and they nod. “As far as anyone will be aware Morgan and Prentiss went in.”

“Okay.” they all agree, and they look back at the building.

“Ten minutes.” someone says and the couple nod.

“It’s going to be okay.” sbe whispers, smiling gently at him.

“It’s going to be okay.” he smiles, but there’s a feeling in his gut that argues with him as he watches her walk off.

And it was okay, they walked in the building, guns out as they followed the voices.

All four men were, as predicted, taken aback by Emily’s presence, her appearance fitting their type almost too accurately for Aarons liking.

They dropped their guards surrounding the girls after a few moments as Emily walked closer to them, and as discussed, as soon as the girls dropped to the floor at Aaron’s silent request, a shot came through and a man flopped to the ground, blood pouring from him. The girls quickly ran towards the Agents, the two rushing them out and towards the medics waiting around the corner. Aaron was just three feet away from Emily, gun pointed at one man as he turned to face them, the smirk on his face sending shivers down his spine. He clocked the third man too late, his gun already fired by the time he’d shot his, the man hitting the floor while the other laughed, before Aaron shot him as well, both falling not half a second after the other and he looks towards Emily and he swears he’s never felt fear like it.

Ripping out his ear piece as his team scream down it he runs to her, the word no leaving his mouth more times than anyone could ever count as he rushes to her, grabbing her as he hits the floor, his arms holding her head up as her body limply falls, her head resting in his arms as she gasps for breath.

“No, no.” he says, tears already falling down his eyes as he cups her face, “Stay with me.” he tells her, his eyes on hers as her body shakes, fighting for oxygen that she can’t inhale.

He watches as blood pours out of her abdomen, he removes his hand from her cheek and presses into him, whispering an apology as she cries out.

“Stay with me, sweetheart. You’re okay.” he whispers, she swallows, her hand dropping onto his chest as she tries to reach his face, gasping for air as she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers.

She takes a sharp intake of breath, her voice hollow and harsh, “It’s not your fault.” she stutters shakily, her fingers tracing across his jawline.

Aaron shakes his head as he hand turns a violent red with her blood, looking at her as tears fall from their eyes. “You’re going to be fine.”

She chokes then, gagging for air that she can not inhale, her lungs crying out of the oxygen she just isn’t strong enough to breathe in while they start burning with intensity as she bleeds out.

He can hear the team rushing towards them and he looks up for a millisecond, before dropping his head back down her as head falls into him.

“No,” he whispers with a cry and she looks at him.

“I love you.” sne tells him with a breath that’s hoarse and dry while nodding her head with a smile. “I love you.”

“Please.” he begs, “Just hold on, okay?”

“It’s not your fault.” she says again, gasping for breath, making sure he knows that he couldn’t have changed this. Couldn’t have saved her. Her blood that leeks from her body and clings to his hand as he holds her, shaking his head as tears fall down his face.

“I love you,” he whispers, a sad smile on his face. “I love you… please, please stay with me.”

Her eyes drift closed as her body shuts down, whispering an i love you too as her head drops into his chest and he cries, pulling her into him.

Arms come around him, lifting him off the ground and he shouts as he feels her be taken from him, can only watch as she is placed on a gurney and he rushes to follow. He can hear people talking to him but it’s muffled, unable to understand the words being spoken as he follows her.

“You can’t go in the ambulance.” Morgan says, holding him back and Aaron turns.

“What? Why?” he stutters, watching as the door of the ambulance closes.

“Come on.” Morgan says, pushing him gently towards the SUV, he can see the blue lights fading into the distance as he stumbles into the vehicle. “We should be right behind them.” Morgan tells the team as he rushes into the drivers seat, slamming the door before speeding off behind the ambulance.

“I should have ignored the call.” he mutters, looking down at his blood stained hands. “I should have..”

“She’s going to be okay.” JJ tells him, grasping her hand in his and he looks at her, pain written all over his face.

He turns away to stare back at his hands, red with her blood and shakes his head.

“I should have ignored the call.” he whispers, “she asked me to ignore the call.”

[agerefandom]

Kitchen Friends

Fandom: Marvel

Characters: Regressor!Reader (he/him pronouns), cgs!Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes

Words: 2,600

Summary: Bucky and Steve have been your friends for almost a year, and you don’t usually host the dinner nights. It’s a little stressful, but you’re excited to see Bucky and Steve!

Content Warnings: anxiety mentions, accidental injury, blood, involuntary regression, caregiver accidentally pushing too hard and getting called out, regression accidentally getting revealed. Brief references to wartime and trauma.

for @shadowdreamer5​

It had been a rough day and you weren’t sure why.

Nothing upsetting had happened, but you woke up anxious and the feeling lingered through the day. You tried to push it down, get your chores finished. Steve and Bucky were coming over tonight, and you wanted your apartment to be presentable. Which meant you needed to do the dishes you’d been avoiding for the past few days.

Luckily, you’d already done the groceries, so you didn’t have to leave the house (just the thought made your heart beat faster).

With the help of your favourite playlist, you got down to business in the late afternoon. The dishes were finished, the floors were vacuumed, and you’d even dusted a few shelves before giving up on that particular chore.

You ran over your evening plans as you hummed along to the music. Steve and Bucky had been over to your place before, but this was the first time you were serving dinner. Usually, you just lost track of time when you were together and ended up ordering pizza when you realized it was dinnertime. Their apartment was much nicer, so you’d been there for dinner more often. Both Steve and Bucky were great cooks, and you were well-aware that you probably weren’t going to measure up, but that was alright. It was the thought that counted, as Steve often reminded you.

Steve was a good friend. You’d met Bucky first, at the library, both of you favouring the same reading nook tucked away in a private corner. After awkwardly running into each other for the fifth time, you had both resigned yourself to being friends. Bucky had introduced you to Steve later that week, and you’d been… well. Doing your best not to hyperventilate while meeting Captain America. He probably got that a lot.

You didn’t know their entire history, but you knew that they had been friends before the war (and wasn’t that strange to think about, the Second World War being something that they remembered?), and you knew that Bucky preferred to keep out of the media. As far as most of the world was concerned, Bucky Barnes had died in service seventy years ago. You hadn’t asked why he was walking around a public library in the twenty-first century, but you learned pieces of both of their past as you got to know them. It was a history defined by combat, duty, and bonds. You could understand why they now lived the way they did, deliberately normal: farmer’s markets and library books, flowers on the dining table. It was a reclaiming exercise, a carefully cultivated domestic sphere to retreat into when the fighting was done.

You smiled as you finished washing the bathroom sink, rinsing the suds down the drain. It was a keen pleasure to be included in their domestic life, your home a new retreat for them. They picked up your favourite Netflix shows, asked about your preferred stores and where you got your favourite button-up. While both of them seemed well-adjusted to the current time period, there was always much more to learn.

Your reverie was broken by a knock on the door.

Oh, crap. That was probably them. Was it really six already? You’d completely lost track of the time, and you’d been so busy with chores that you hadn’t started any of the food.

You eyed your sparkling bathroom with new contempt, tossed your sponge back onto the side of the bathtub, and went to open the door.

Sure enough, Steve and Bucky stood in the hall. Bucky was holding a salad and Steve cradled a plate of brownies. They were dressed down in jeans and t-shirts, Bucky’s shirt featuring a cat wearing sunglasses and Steve’s a plain grey.

“I told you guys not to bring anything,” you greeted them, frowning at the food in their hands.

“It felt wrong to come over with our hands empty,” Steve shrugged, and gave you the brownies. The pan was still slightly warm, and you were sure they were going to be melty, soft, and delicious. The man had a talent.

“Well, come in,” you said, and went to drop the brownies on the kitchen counter. “I haven’t started dinner yet, I’m sorry.” You were feeling a little more settled now that they were here. They toed off their shoes and put them in their place by the door. Bucky dropped the salad on the table and leaned on the counter as you grabbed vegetables from the fridge.  

“Can we help?” Bucky said, snagging a red pepper from your hand and a cutting board from the dish-pile.

“Looks like you’re going to,” you pointed out. “And yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”

“What can I do?” Steve asked, joining you in the kitchen.

“Cut the broccoli and the beans.” You pushed them both into his arms, and put a cutting board on top. “It’s for a casserole, so cut them bite-sized.”

Steve offered a shining smile, balancing his armful of equipment. “Yessir,” he quipped, and went to do his work at the table, since your little kitchen was already a bit cramped with two people sharing counter-space.

“How have you been?” Bucky asked, slicing his pepper open and carving out the seeds inside. “It’s been over a week since we caught up.”

“Busy. Tired,” you said honestly. “Pulling through.”

“I feel that,” Bucky sighed. “Thanks for having us over, by the way. We’ve been looking forward to it.”

“So have I!” Your hands are busy peeling potatoes over the sink, but you give Bucky a smile. “Gives me a reason to clean the apartment, too.”

“We should come over more often,” Bucky teased.

“Maybe you should.”

You turned back to your work with a smile, but just then, your knife hit an odd divot in the potato you were peeling and dashed sideways into your thumb. You hissed as the blade cut into your finger, and dropped everything into the sink. The clatter caught the others’ attention, and Bucky was at your side in a flash.

Blood welled in the cut, and you felt abruptly dizzy. You’d never been good with blood, you remembered your mother teasing you about it when she’d cut herself in the kitchen. It had been just like this, dripping into the sink, and you’d cried and clung to her despite her protests.

You could feel the tears in your eyes now, either from the pain or the surprise. The blood kept coming, and you were scared. What if you had to go to the hospital? You hated the hospital. Needles and doctors and that awful smell of people dying. You couldn’t go to the hospital. They couldn’t make you go.

“It’s alright,” you could hear Bucky saying. “Just a little cut, Steve, get his first-aid kit. Above the bathroom sink.” A hand on your shoulder, solid but gentle. “Hey, it’s alright. We’ll get it patched up right away.”

“Sorry,” you managed. Somewhere in the back of your head, you were aware that you were over-reacting to a little cut. But mostly you were just scared and tired and dizzy. “Bad at blood.” The weight of the day was rushing back in all at once, and you couldn’t handle it on top of everything else. Your knees gave out, but Bucky was there, scooping you up.

You could feel the cold of his metal arm even through the back of your t-shirt, his other arm looped under your knees as he lifted you.

“Oops,” Bucky said, as if he hadn’t meant to pick you up. “To the bathroom, I guess.”

You knew you shouldn’t, that you should protest and try to walk, but you couldn’t help but curl into Bucky’s chest as he carried you. They were so strong, these two, and it was easy to see in their bodies, but it was a different thing to feel the ease with which he lifted you, almost heedless of your weight.

“Is he okay?” you heard Steve ask, and the rustle of a bag. Probably your first-aid kit? Bucky said something about that.

“Overwhelmed,” Bucky said, and shifted you around in his arms. Suddenly, you were sitting on the couch on Bucky’s lap, which was kind of silly but also surprisingly comfy. “Ready for Doctor Rogers to fix that finger up?” he asked you, carefully picking up your injured hand.

You did your best to frown at him, but you were well aware that it probably looked more like a pout. He was talking to you like he knew that you were fighting off your regression, and that wasn’t fair at all. Bucky and Steve didn’t even know that you were a regressor.

Something cold pressed against your thumb, making you jump. You looked over to see Steve carefully wiping the blood from your hand, his expression almost comically focused on the task. He was even gentler with the area around the cut, but you still winced.

Bucky put a hand on the back of your neck, humming sympathetically.

Seriously, what was up with them? It felt like they were falling into caregiver behaviour, and you couldn’t call them out on that. But it was making it harder and harder to fight your regression, and you didn’t know what to do.

“Sorry, bud, but we’ve got to clean it before you get a band-aid,” Steve said, and smeared some cream across the cut. It didn’t hurt, but you weren’t expecting it, and you made a sharp noise of complaint. “Almost done,” Steve reassured you.

“Being so brave,” Bucky said, squeezing your uninjured hand. “Good job.”

Alright, that was it. That was not something that someone should say to an adult who had given himself a little cut. You pulled your hand from Steve’s grasp and got off Bucky’s lap, stumbling a little but determined to make your point.

“What’s going on?” you asked, hearing your voice wavering on the line between regressed and adult. “Why are you guys treating me like a kid?”

Steve and Bucky shared a look, and Steve ducked his head slightly.

“I’m sorry if we overstepped,” Steve said. “We… hm.” He stalled out, glancing at you and then at Bucky. “Do you know about a thing called age regression?” Steve said.

“I- what?” Your knees felt so weak. What was happening right now?

“It’s a coping mechanism, usually a reaction to trauma or stress,” Bucky explained. You could barely hear him over your heartbeat in your ears. “We saw it a lot in the tents between missions. People who feel a little younger when they’re not doing well. We didn’t have a word for it at the time.”

“We didn’t mean to push things,” Steve said, still apologetic. “I guess we have, patterns, for dealing with people who seem younger than usual. We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You guys are… caregivers?” you managed.

“Yes!” Steve perked up. “Or, at least, we’d like to be. It was… it was…” He trailed off, and you noticed that Bucky had started holding his hand at some point.

“It was one of the things we shared with our old team,” Bucky finished for him. “We miss it. It was part of how we relaxed, taking care of our friends. But Steve’s right, we shouldn’t have pushed things with you. Old habits.”

“No, it’s. It’s okay.” You stared at your feet, feeling overwhelmed and dizzy and impossibly far behind. “You’re right, I’m a regressor. I didn’t think you knew.”

“We didn’t, really,” Bucky said. “Not until now.”

“I’m sorry.” The tears were threatening to start again, and you didn’t even know why. This was all so big and it felt so important but you couldn’t think. Your head hurt from all the crying, and your thumb was still aching, and you should have had dinner in the oven an hour ago. “I messed it all up.”

“No!” Both of them said immediately.

“We’re the ones who messed up,” Steve continued. “Of course it was scary to have your friends treat you like a child. Even if you were regressing, it would have been disorienting. We should have said something.”

“Maybe.” Steve has a point, it was pretty confusing. And they could have just asked you. “But it was nice.”

“Yeah? It wasn’t bad?” Bucky asked, looking hopeful.

“Gosh, no, of course not,” you rushed to reassure him. “It was really nice. I was just trying to stay big, and you were making it hard. But it was nice.” You needed to find another word, but it was just… nice!

“Well. You can be big if you want,” Steve said, fiddling with the corner of the first-aid bag. “You can put your own band-aid on and cook dinner.” You wait, knowing from his tone that he isn’t finished. “Or… we could help you put the band-aid on, and I can finish dinner while you show Bucky what you like to do when you’re younger.”

“That sounds good,” you confessed. “The second one.” You were still wavering in your adult headspace, and all you wanted to do is climb back into Bucky’s lap.

“Yeah?” Steve and Bucky both looked cheered by the idea. It was sweet that they were so excited about this. It must have really been something the two of them missed.

“Yeah.” You dug your socked toes into the carpet, suddenly shy. “Um, I’m pretty… small though. I dunno if you really want that.”

“How old are you, bud?” Steve asked, leaning forward.

You held your hand out with three fingers up. Now that you knew the nicknames are deliberate, they pushed you even deeper into your regression. You weren’t sure you could have talked if you wanted to.

“That’s not small at all,” Steve said seriously. “I think you’re a very big, brave boy, who still needs a band-aid for his finger.”

Bucky patted his lap and held out a hand, a clear invitation.

You walked forward to him, feeling a little out of your body, certain that this was a dream. But Bucky’s lap was just as comfy as you remembered, and it was easy to lean into his chest and drift. Steve lifted your hand, wiped it down again, and then produced a band-aid from the bag. It was one of your patterned ones, and you fought the urge to hide your face when you realized it was one of the Iron Man ones.

“Ah, I see how it is,” Steve teased, and then gently wrapped it around your finger, smoothing the adhesive. “Well, as long as you’re protected, it’s alright.” He kissed the tip of your finger where it poked out from the band-aid, and this time you couldn’t fight the instinct to hide your face against Bucky’s chest.

“You’re embarrassing him,” Bucky chuckled, running a hand over the back of your head, fingers slipping through your hair. “Give him a break, he’s only three.”

You made a little happy sound and pushed into Bucky’s fingers. You’d always liked getting your head petted when you were regressed. It was the most wonderful feeling, especially after a bottle or a warm meal.

Bucky obediently continued to pet your head, and Steve got to his feet.

“Well, I’d better tackle dinner,” Steve said. “You two enjoy the rest, and I’ll let you know when it’s in the oven.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” Bucky said. “I think it’s going to be a good night, even if dinner’s a little late.”

Nuzzling closer into Bucky’s chest as his fingers trailed through your hair, you found that you had to agree.

[hopemakesstuff]

Protecting Assets

Hey y’all so uhhh I don’t normally do this kind of thing but a couple of my friends and I have been on a major Danganronpa kick these past few months since one friend in particular just recently got in the series, and part of that major kick has been discussing various AUs (mostly of the G/t variety).

One AU in particular that we’ve all latched onto involves sizeshifter!Makoto, wherein one Makoto Naegi has the ability to alter his size somewhat at will, and the various shenanigans that ensue as a result of him trying to keep that ability a secret from his peers. 

So anyway here’s a little fic I wrote based on some various brainstorming we’ve come up with. 

A bit of helpful background info before I jump in: 

Makoto can shrink or grow mostly at will. His abilities are sometimes influenced by his emotional state or physical well-being. (i.e.: he shrinks if he doesn’t get enough sleep or eat enough.) It’s basically a way for his body to conserve energy. 

Makoto’s clothes shrink or grow with him accordingly. Because this is fiction and I do what I want. (Let’s just say his clothes are made from a special kind of material or something idk)

I don’t really have a specific time in mind for when this particular fic takes place, but definitely after the first murder. 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ 

Makoto’s return to consciousness was a slow one. His senses came back to him gradually, starting with the feeling of soft fabric cocooning him on all sides. It honestly took him a moment to even realize that his eyes were open, given how dark his surroundings were—almost pitch black, save for a thin line of light peeking in overhead. 

His first guess was that he’d probably gotten tangled up in his bedsheets, but… the longer he sat there, the more that didn’t seem quite right. Instead of a mattress beneath him, the only firm surface he could really feel was a wall on his left side. At least, he was pretty sure it was a wall.

Maybe he was laying on some kind of hammock? Of course, that only begged the question of where he was, and how he’d gotten there in the first place. Surely he wasn’t in his dorm room…

Well, wherever he was, it was quiet. Peaceful, even. The faint hum of the air conditioning was the most prominent noise, but he was pretty sure he could hear someone breathing as well. Aside from that, the only other sound Makoto could make out was the occasional turning of a page, as if someone was looking through a book.

He wasn’t alone. 

The desire for answers only grew more urgent as that realization came to him. He obviously wasn’t going to get those answers if he just kept laying around, though. 

Trying to find any decent sort of foothold was a challenge, but Makoto was eventually able to pull himself up to a standing position as he clung to a small portion of the fabric. Then came the process of actually trying to climb his way up toward the opening above him. It took a considerable amount of effort, but after a few moments, he managed to pull it off. 

Poking his head out, the first thing that caught his eye was the array of bookshelves lining the wall just ahead of him, all crammed to maximum capacity.

The library. 

What was he doing in the library?

“Oh, you’re finally awake.” 

Makoto let out a rather undignified yelp in response, nearly losing his grip on the fabric in the process, but it wasn’t necessarily the suddenness of the voice that had startled him. Part of it had to do with the familiarity—he knew that voice, and hearing that person speak was plenty surprising all on its own. But it also had to do with the proximity and volume. Each word practically reverberated through his entire body, shaking him down to the core. Not loud, per se, but… big.

Turning his gaze upward, Makoto immediately locked eyes with the voice’s owner. Those icy blue irises practically pierced through him like a pair of daggers.

“B-Byakuya? Wh—” 

Before he could form a proper question, the sight of a massive hand descending upon him caused Makoto to choke on his words. He didn’t have any time to react as equally massive fingers coiled around him, hoisting him up with all the care of someone retrieving a handkerchief from their pocket. 

That was where he’d been. Byakuya’s pocket. 

That realization alone was more than enough to send his mind reeling—nevermind the lack of concern Byakuya showed when handling him.  

The Togami heir all but dumped him onto the desk, nearly causing him to fall over. Thankfully, Makoto somehow managed to keep his footing. Now he just had to contend with the fact that he was trapped in the library with Byakuya looming over him.

God, it was bad enough that Byakuya already knew his secret. Actually being caught in his most vulnerable state was a nightmare come to life. 

For the longest moment, there was only silence between the two boys. Makoto was almost too nervous to even breathe, let alone speak. 

Eventually, though, Byakuya seemed to grow bored with their little staring contest. 

“How much longer are you going to be stuck like this?” he questioned, setting his book aside and crossing his arms. 

“I… What?” 

“You heard me.” 

Sure, Makoto heard him, but that didn’t make it any less confusing. 

“I don’t… I’m not sure? What happened? Why was I—” 

“You don’t remember? Hmph, figures,” Byakuya huffed. “You fainted right outside your door, and then your little… quirk kicked in. You’re lucky I was the one who found you.” 

Makoto didn’t know if he necessarily agreed, but he wasn’t about to say so. 

His memory started coming back after that, though.

In the aftermath of the last class trial, it would’ve been a huge understatement to say that Makoto was feeling stressed out. He could hardly remember the last time he’d eaten a proper meal. Or gotten a full night of sleep. Normally he was a lot better about taking care of himself, given the consequences that came about with his shifting if he didn’t, but… 

Could anyone really blame him for slacking a bit? 

“So, you… brought me with you to the library?” 

“I can’t keep you in check if your secret gets out prematurely, now can I?”

Ugh. Right. Now things were starting to make more sense. Byakuya just wanted to make sure he still had blackmail material.

“So? How much longer?” The affluent progeny didn't even bother trying to hide his annoyance at having to ask the question a second time.

“Well, um. I mean… it depends,” Makoto tried his best to explain. “How long was I… er, how long has it been since you found me?”

Byakuya looked over at the clock above the door. 

“Just over two hours.” 

Two hours?!

To think he’d been alone with Byakuya for that much time, unconscious and barely more than three inches tall… Makoto didn’t want to let himself dwell on that for too long. 

At least he was still in one piece. 

…For now. 

“Um, I guess I could try shifting back up now?” he offered. 

Byakuya didn’t give any sort of verbal response. He just sat there, watching and waiting. 

Taking that as his cue, Makoto tentatively made his way over to the edge of the desk and sat down. He briefly thought about asking Byakuya to set him on the floor, but quickly pushed that idea aside. Better to avoid any more rough handling if he could. 

Makoto then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. Even without looking, he could practically feel Byakuya staring at him the entire time. 

But more importantly, after a few moments, he could also feel himself beginning to grow. Namely he could feel the surface of the desk gradually getting smaller and smaller beneath him. 

When he opened his eyes, he was now looking down at Byakuya, if only just slightly. Back to his normal height, thank god.

“Hm. Fascinating.”

All it took was that one word to send a shiver crawling up Makoto’s spine. Just the way Byakuya said it left him more than a little uncomfortable. Like he was some kind of science experiment or something.

“R-Right, well. I should go,” he stammered out rather quickly before hopping off the desk and heading for the door. 

Just as he was about to reach for the handle, he paused to look back over his shoulder. Byakuya had already gone back to reading whatever book he'd been looking through earlier. 

“I, um… Thanks? For making sure no one else saw me like that.” 

Even if Byakuya’s motivations for doing so had been purely selfish, thanking him still felt like the right thing to do. 

A noncommittal grunt was the only reply Makoto got, though. Byakuya didn’t even look up from his book.

Well, there was no point sticking around any longer than he already had. After leaving the library, his next intended destination was the dining hall. Nothing really sounded good if he was being honest, but… for the sake of making sure he didn’t pass out again, he figured it would be best to find something he could stomach.