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#Emerge 180 |
thecryptidart1st · 6 months
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never pulled out my phone out so fast
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greyias · 11 months
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Welp. Here we go again. One month later, back to the eternal waiting game.
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An end to the climate emergency is in our grasp
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On June 20, I'm keynoting the LOCUS AWARDS in OAKLAND.
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The problem with good news in the real world is that it's messy. Neat happy endings are for novels, not the real world, and that goes double for the climate emergency. But even though good climate news is complicated and nuanced, that doesn't mean it shouldn't buoy our spirits and fill our hearts with hope.
The big climate news this past week is the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's clarion call about surging CO2 levels – the highest ever – amid a year that is on track to have the largest and most extreme series of weather events in human history:
https://www.noaa.gov/news-release/during-year-of-extremes-carbon-dioxide-levels-surge-faster-than-ever
This is genuinely alarming and you – like me – have probably experienced it as a kind of increase in your background radiation of climate anxiety. Perhaps you – like me – even experienced some acute, sit-bolt-upright-in-bed-at-2AM anxiety as a result. That's totally justifiable. This is very real, very bad news.
And yet…
The news isn't all bad, and even this terrible dispatch from the NOAA is best understood in context, which Bill McKibben provides in his latest newsletter post, "What You Want is an S Curve":
https://billmckibben.substack.com/p/what-you-want-is-an-s-curve
Financier and their critics should all be familiar with Stein's Law: "anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop." This is true outside of finance as well. One of the reasons that we're seeing such autophagic panic from the tech companies is that their period of explosive growth is at an end.
For years, they told themselves that they were experiencing double-digit annual growth because they were "creating value" and "innovating" but the majority of their growth was just a side-effect of the growth of the internet itself. When hundreds of millions of people get online every year, the dominant online services will, on average, gain hundreds of millions of new users.
But when you run out of people who don't have internet access, your growth is going to slow. How can it not? Indeed, at that point, the only ways to grow are to either poach users from your rivals (through the very expensive tactics of massive advertising and sales-support investments, on top of discounts and freebies as switching enticements), or to squeeze your own users for more.
That's why the number of laptops sold in America slowed down. It's why the number of cellphones sold in America slowed down. It's why the number of "smart home" gizmos slowed down.
Even the steepest hockey-stick-shaped exponential growth curve eventually levels off and becomes an S-curve, because anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop.
One way or another, the world's carbon emissions will eventually level off. Even if we drive ourselves to (or over) the brink of extinction and set up the conditions for wildfires that release all the carbon stored in all the Earth's plants, the amount of carbon we pump into the atmosphere has to level off.
Rendering the Earth incapable of sustaining human civilization (or life) is the ultimate carbon reduction method – but it's not my first choice.
That's where McKibben's latest newsletter comes in. He cites a new report from the Rocky Mountain Institute, which shows a major reversal in our energy sources, a shift that will see our energy primarily provided by renewables, with minimal dependence on fossil fuels:
https://rmi.org/insight/the-cleantech-revolution/
The RMI team says that in this year or next, we'll have hit peak demand for fossil fuels (a fact that is consistent with NOAA's finding that we're emitting more CO2 than ever). The reason for this is that so much renewable energy is about to come online, and it is so goddamned cheap, that we are about to undergo a huge shift in our energy consumption patterns.
This past decade saw a 12-fold increase in solar capacity, a 180-fold increase in battery storage, and a 100-fold increase in EV sales. China is leading the world in a cleantech transition, with the EU in close second. Cleantech is surging in places where energy demand is also still growing, like India and Vietnam. Fossil fuel use has already peaked in Thailand, South Africa and every country in Latin America.
We're on the verge of solar constituting an absolute majority of all the world's energy generation. This year, batteries will overtake pumped hydro for energy storage. Every cleantech metric is growing the way that fossil fuels did in previous centuries: investment, patents, energy density, wind turbine rotor size. The price of solar is on track to halve (again) in the next decade.
In short, cleantech growth looks like the growth of other technologies that were once rarities and then became ubiquitous overnight: TV, cellphones, etc. That growth isn't merely being driven by the urgency of the climate emergency: it's primarily a factor of how fucking great cleantech is:
https://rmi.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/the_incredible_inefficiency_of_fossils.pdf
Fossil fuels suck. It's not just that they wreck the planet, or that their extraction is both politically and environmentally disastrous. They just aren't a good way to make energy. About a third of fossil fuel energy is wasted in production and transportation. A third! Another third is wasted turning fossil fuels into energy. Two thirds! The net energy efficiency of fossil fuels is about 37%.
Compare that with cleantech. EVs convert electricity to movement with 80-90% efficiency. Heat pumps are 300% efficient (the main fuel for your heat pump is the heat in the atmosphere, not the electricity it draws).
Cleantech is just getting started – it's still in the hockey-stick phase. That means those efficiency numbers are only going up. Rivian just figured out how to remove 1.6 miles of copper wire from each vehicle. That's just one rev – there's doubtless lots of room for more redesigns that will further dematerialize EVs:
https://insideevs.com/news/722265/rivian-r1s-r1t-wiring/
As McKibben points out, there's been a lot of justifiable concern that electrification will eventually use up all our available copper, but copper demand has remained flat even as electrification has soared – and this is why. We keep figuring out new ways to electrify with fewer materials:
https://www.chemanalyst.com/NewsAndDeals/NewsDetails/copper-wire-price-remains-stable-amidst-surplus-supply-and-expanding-mining-25416#:~:text=Global%20Copper%20wire%20Price%20Remains%20Stable%20Amidst%20Surplus%20Supply%20and%20Expanding%20Mining%20Activities
This is exactly what happened with previous iterations of tech. The material, energy and labor budgets of cars, buildings, furniture, etc all fell precipitously every time there was a new technique for manufacturing them. Renewables are at the start of that process. There's going to be a lot of this dematerialization in cleantech. Calculating the bill of materials for a planetary energy transition isn't a matter of multiplying the materials in current tech by the amount of new systems we'll need – as we create those new systems, we will constantly whittle down their materials.
What's more, global instability drives cleantech uptake. The Russian invasion of Ukraine caused a surge in European renewables. The story that energy prices are rising due to renewables (or carbon taxes) is a total lie. Fossil fuels are getting much more expensive, thanks to both war and rampant, illegal price-fixing:
https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/an-oil-price-fixing-conspiracy-caused
If not for renewables, the incredible energy shocks of the recent years would be far more severe.
The renewables story is very good and it should bring you some comfort. But as McKibben points out, it's still not enough – yet. The examples of rapid tech uptake had big business on their side. America's living rooms filled with TV because America's largest businesses pulled out all the stops to convince everyone to buy a TV. By contrast, today's largest businesses – banks, oil companies and car companies – are working around the clock to stop cleantech adoption.
We're on track to double our use of renewables before the decade is over. But to hold to the (already recklessly high) targets from the Paris Accord, we need to triple our renewables usage. As McKibben says, the difference between doubling and tripling our renewables by 2030 is the difference between "survivable trouble" and something much scarier.
The US is experiencing a welcome surge in utility scale solar, but residential solar is stalling out as governments withdraw subsidies or even begin policies that actively restrict rooftop solar:
https://twitter.com/curious_founder/status/1798049929082097842?s=51
McKibben says the difference between where we are now and bringing back the push for home solar generation is the difference between "fast" and "faster" – that is the difference between tripling renewables by 2030 (survivable) and doubling (eek).
Capitalism stans who argue that we can survive the climate emergency with market tools will point to the good news on renewable and say that the market is the only way to transition to renewables. It's true that market forces are partly responsible for this fast transition. But the market is also the barrier to a faster (and thus survivable) transition. The oil companies, the banks who are so invested in fossil fuels, the petrostates who distort the world's politics – they're why we're not much farther along.
The climate emergency was never going to be neatly solved. We weren't going to get a neat novelistic climax that saw our problems sorted out in a single fell swoop. We're going to be fighting all the way to net zero, and after that, we'll still have decades of climate debt to pay down: fires, floods, habitat loss, zoonotic plagues, refugee crises.
But we should take our wins. Even if we're far from where we need to be on renewables, we're much farther along on renewables than we had any business hoping for, just a few years ago. The momentum is on our side. It's up to us to use that momentum and grow it. We're riding the hockey-stick, they're on that long, flat, static top of the S-curve. Their curve is leveling off and will start falling, ours will grow like crazy for the rest of our lives.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/12/s-curve/#anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-eventually-stops
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intersectionalpraxis · 7 months
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Gaza Updates (1:30PM, EST, November 13, 2023)
Gaza's health ministry's director general, Ismail al-Thawabta confirmed that 11,240 Palestinian people have been killed. Al Jazeera added this as apart of his updates:
"Dead in Gaza include 4,630 children and 3,130 women." "Number of killed medical personnel now 189, including doctors, nurses and paramedics." "Ten people – “kids, babies, patients and wounded” – died at al-Shifa hospital due to operation rooms being shuttered as a result of a lack of fuel." "If fuel shortage continues it will cause a communications and internet blackout. Al-Thawabta said this is projected to happen on Thursday and will lead to “all the crimes of Israel” being “hidden from the world”, and turn the humanitarian crisis from “bad to worse”. "Fuel must be allowed into Gaza and the Rafah crossing with Egypt must be fully opened." "Israel and the international community – particularly the United States – are fully responsible for “crimes against civilians”. "The fighting has also destroyed 41,120 residential properties; 94 government headquarters; 71 mosques destroyed; and 253 schools have been damaged." "There has been $181m in direct agricultural losses, with 25 percent of agricultural farms destroyed." "4 governmental headquarters, 253 schools, 71 mosques and 3 churches destroyed in Israeli raids."
It has also been confirmed "all primary care for pregnant women has been lost"
"Dr Haya Hijazi, who works at al-Hilo Hospital in Gaza City, has confirmed: "there are no prenatal, neonatal or postpartum services catering to pregnant women, new mothers and newborns."
"UNFPA, the United Nations sexual and reproductive health agency, said that Gaza is home to 50,000 pregnant women."
It also said:
"70 percent of those killed and injured so far are women and children." "5,500 women are due to give birth in the coming month – more than 180 births per day." "Fuel, medicines, blood supply and other essentials for hospitals are running out." "Two truckloads of Inter-agency Reproductive Health Kits have arrived in Gaza containing individual clean delivery kits and supplies and equipment for emergency obstetric care, including anesthesia and supplies for cesarean sections." "Some 238 attacks against health care have been reported in the occupied Palestinian territories since the beginning of the hostilities, killing 517 people, according to WHO"
All of this information/everything I quoted can be found on Al Jazeera's live updates on their website -all credits to Al Jazeera journalists:
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I need folks to continually keep understanding that everything happening right now in Gaza in NOT a war, it is a genocide. Israeli military and government is systematically destroying infrastructure for their Zionist agenda, and are massacring Palestinian people mercilessly and without remorse -nowhere is safe in Gaza, and reading these updates should continue to enrage you.
Keep posting, keep re-posting, keep researching and keep reading, stay informed, go to sit-ins and protests if this is accessible to you, and most importantly -keep fighting against Israeli and American propaganda.
Free Palestine 🇵🇸
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nurse-sainz · 1 month
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Let me set the scene:
It's the Vegas Grand Prix, 2023. Lando has his crash, is high as a bloody kite in the hospital. Lando sees his nurse and I'd convinced he's dead bc 'why else would there be a legit angel?'
This is super short and silly but I absolutely adore this request! Thank you <3
P.S. I also love this and it is possibly one of my favourite photos of him! Boy is high as balls.
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The red emergency phone rang, signaling an incoming ambulance, and you answered it with a sigh. "Mercy General Emergency Department," you answered as you clicked your pen and got the handover sheet ready to write down the patient information.
"Male…24…high-speed crash into a wall," you repeated back to dispatch that alerted you to the incoming patient, hating that you’d be spending what was left of your shift dealing with someone’s drunken antics or stupidity that had crashed them into a wall.
"How fast was he going?" you asked, not expecting the answer.
"180."
"Come again? 180mph and he’s still alive?" you repeated, not being able to hide the shock. "Do we need blood? X-Ray? Trauma surgeons and blood on standby? No one has called ahead." You suddenly woke up from the usual lull you felt around this time during your shift, your mind suddenly in full trauma mode.
"No, just precautionary checks. Patient is a Formula One driver and has been cleared by track medics, but they want a second opinion at the hospital and some scans in case."
Then it hit you…you followed F1 and had done for a few years. You’d been following the race on your phone during your breaks and knew Lando had crashed out during turn 14.
"Okay. Thank you, have you got an ETA?"
Dispatch relayed the time of arrival that gave you enough time to announce it over the tannoy and for your team to gather in one of the trauma rooms. You also called in security because you knew the press would be vultures all over this.
With the trauma room ready, you all waited for the arrival of your VIP patient. If you were being truthful, you were a little nervous at meeting one of your celebrity crushes but also knew you needed to keep it professional. What you didn’t expect was the goofy look on Lando’s face as he was wheeled on a stretcher into the room.
As soon as the paramedic crew had handed over and you’d transferred him over to the bed, you began attaching him to monitors and got your list of investigations and tests you’d need to perform from the doctor in charge.
The paramedics had clearly dosed him up with the good meds as he stirred in and out of consciousness, his eyes glassy and the goofy smile still plastered on his face every time his eyes met yours.
You woke him up once again, ready to check his pupils and GCS once more when he was a little more alert than he’d been since he arrived.
"Woah…am I dead?" his voice came out slightly slurred.
"The heart monitor beeping next to you would say otherwise," you laughed in reply.
"Are you sure, because why else would an actual angel be standing in front of me right now?"
You couldn’t help another laugh that escaped your lips as you watched him try to focus on you.
"And that would be the morphine," you fiddled with his IV and checked the fluids running before you input a few more things on his chart.
“I don’t think it is…” he slurred once more, “I know an angel when I see one.”
You were about to reply when you looked up from his chart and saw he’d fallen asleep, his head against his chest. You got up from your seat and adjusted his pillows so his neck wouldn’t be even more painful in the morning.
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justblades · 1 year
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⌕ CRAVINGS, 18+
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⟢ CHARACTER : gepard landau x afab! reader WC : 1.5k
⟢ WARNINGS : MDNI. fluff, breeding, impregnation, pussy deprived! gepard, cervix kissing.
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Gepard Landau is a stronghold of resolve and kept promises; the one who truly fits the theme of what a captain is made up of. Should you hear his name spilling from the silvermane guards' lips, they were all praises and musings, hoping that their captain would acknowledge their efforts and promote their position.
To be a resolute person, showing no signs, leaving no traces of weaknesses behind for they can be used by your foe when time permits; it was indubitable when he seeks for his solace, a place he can rest and let his guard down once in a while. To let his sharp, firm edges soften— admittingly wanting to be caressed with intimacy and care no one could give him but his lover.
Even though you could pick up how his work had taken a toll on him from the endless fragmentum monsters emerging from the depths of the shadows, he still puts up a façade of being strong, facing everything head on. As much as you wanted him to drop it and just bask in the feeling of being held, Gepard wasn't that type of man. Everything he says, he sees through.
Fortunately, the Belobog's crisis wraps itself up at last. With the emergence of overworld and the underworld, he'd been cut some slack. No need for heightened patrols since the curfew was abolished, for once, he could finally rest in your arms. His luscious, smoked blonde hair falls over right below your ear, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
"I missed holding you like this." He says, voice laced with a sweet tone to it, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. You cup his hot pink tinted cheeks and lift his face to level with yours, your eyes agleam of love and passion, you press a chaste kiss on his icy skin.
Gepard draws you a gaze, one that emits confusion. "Let loose for a while." You say and slowly glide your hands from his face down to his stomach. His breath suddenly hitches the lower your touch traveled, you whisper to his ear meticulously, "It's been so long. You sure you don't miss it?"
A sly smirk creeps on your face meanwhile the blonde male does his best attempt to hide it. Although his growing bulge that came contact with your thighs gave it away. His rover blue hues only averted away from your figure, embarrassment gushing through his system. All he needs is just a little teasing, and then, the cogs of his body's lust will soon start moving.
You press your lips onto his in lento, making sure he could feel the warmth of your breath tickling his skin, and your fingers slightly playing with his clothed erection. A soft mewl comes out of your mouth and there he felt a little too defeated, for he lost from battling his temptation and his tongue enters your mouth, twirling with yours in satisfaction.
His soft, tender side flips 180 degrees, his actions now radiate hunger and fervor. Gepard's hands land on yours, but you were only taken aback when he makes you stroke his crotch more, in a pace you knew very well he was fond of. The captain moans into your mouth, a guttural one at that.
"Since you're offering nicely, I'm just accepting generously." He says and as if the time came to a standstill, your clothes were ripped apart with Gepard's brute force alone. He uses his teeth to rid himself of the pearly white gloves he sported, carelessly throwing it away somewhere it wouldn't bother you. Your back suddenly meets with the soft, cushioned sofa, breathing becoming ragged.
One thing's for sure, you're loving how everything is unfolding. Surely the yearning for some intimacy also left him with a pent up sexual frustration, it was no wonder he suddenly bursted with a deep desire to conquer, to ruin, and to prey on. His usual navy irises transition into darker shades, unable to control himself any longer.
"No foreplay for now. Maybe later for round two—" He says as he sweeps your undergarment to the side, eyeing carefully your throbbing entrance with his watchful eyes. "Doesn't look like you need it either when you're already this sopping wet." Gepard pumps two digits into your hole, his fingers already drenched with your love juices.
You feel like your tongue betrayed you for you were at a loss for words in the heat of the moment. But nonetheless, you brace yourself from the incoming sensation. The crown of his dick was hot, rubbing against your slit naughtily at a painfully slow pace.
It has been so long hence why you were this wet already— imagine being that desperate for your lover's touches that snuggling with him makes you think of the dirtiest things. But with how the tables have turned, the man atop you is now whose minds are filled with corrupted, lewd thoughts. Fantasies in line waiting to come true now that you're here with him.
And as he bucks his hips, his rock hard cock fills you to the brim. Your walls contract from the abrupt intrusion while you could only hold onto his biceps for support. His arms propped both on your sides, the soft glow of the lights cast over to Gepard's half naked body— tracing his muscles flexing in every thrusts that he does, as well as how his golden locks tumble on his face along with his rhythm.
Your walls cling onto his dick, remembering his shape whenever he prods through. You wince from how girthy it was and as anticipated, he's purposely being slow today. His rams were gradual wherein you could feel his aching prominent veins rub on your insides. "Faster, Gepard."
He only hums in question - sarcastically. It was then a dilatory realization sinks in your mind, he wants you to plead for him. As shocking as it is, you never got to experience Gepard being like this for the record. It only reinforces the thought that he was indeed sexually frustrated. Sex encounters with him are always sweet, wholesome and carefree. If you had to describe it with one word, it'd be vanilla.
But Gepard Landau is being the complete opposite, however, he still has many sides of him to discover. You choose to indulge him more so you'd experience this kind of sex more often. Vanilla isn't bad, but changing once in a while is even better.
"Faster . . Gepard, please." Your breathy voice could only make out weak words. Meanwhile down there, it's muffled from the squelching noises reverberating inside the four beige painted walls. The male leans lower to you and crashes his lips once again, never getting tired of your warm, sticky liquids meshing with his.
With one last sluggish thrust, he hastily pounces into your fluttering hole, almost as if it was at 20 machs speed, not to mention he's digging deep. Your eyes widen into two full moons from the feeling, your cervix kissing his very dick's small slit. A moan bubbles from his throat, "You're so warm . . you're sucking me in . ." He muses and breaks the lascivious kiss.
Eyes heavy lidded with a piercing lustful gaze that bore straight through your soul, he builds momentum and doesn't let himself be swayed. He's here to accept your kindhearted offer and Gepard only makes the best of it. He huffs as he pounds faster, picking up the speed of his pistoning thrusts.
Meanwhile you were there, already a mess from how Gepard's touches turn you into a melting putty. In contrast to the city outskirts being traced with icy temperatures, your bodies were in heat - literally. The captain's eyes never once left your face, lips a little parted to make way to stabilize his breathing.
In sync, two of you sense that particular feeling, a satisfaction of release wherein you both tried so hardest to catch on. Bucking your hips along with your lover's, the sex fills your minds with sexual gratification. Your body trembles from the immense ecstasy, and suddenly, Gepard's mind starts to drift to ecstasy.
The way your walls coil around his dick, the way you begged for him for the both of your contentment; a thought crosses his mind. From that moment, he could envision a family, you holding something swaddled while your eyes twinkled of love and wonder. As if he was in another dimension, he treads closer to your figure. It was then he realizes it was his and your offspring, the baby uttering noises with a toothless, innocent smile. You'd make a great mother undeniably, Gepard thought, thus leading to his breakthrough.
"Let's . . have a family." He coos in between the strings of mewls escaping his sultry, sloppy lips. You were caught off guard, even though you were hoping for a long time he'd say that, you didn't think today would be the the day. With a snicker, you reassure his ideals. "Today seems like the perfect day." With one last open mouthed kiss, the blonde head shoots his seeds deep into your walls - with intentions of not just solely quenching his lascivious desires, but also having another life form birthed into this world.
His cum spills into your slit right until Gepard pulls out from your cunt. He buried so much in deep that you were certain he'd knock you up with one round alone, but your lover didn't share the same sentiment. "Let's do it thrice today, just to make sure."
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my masterlist !
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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Dirty Cops
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.
Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).
A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~
You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.
Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died. 
You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.
As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you. 
"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."
"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me." 
"Sir, with all due respect -" 
"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly. 
"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.
"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss." 
"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly. 
"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies. 
A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes. 
"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?" 
"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds." 
"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss. 
"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct. 
–X– 
With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle. 
"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off. 
Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too. 
"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either." 
"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you. 
"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims." 
"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims." 
"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table. 
"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence  and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."
The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in. 
Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you. 
"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.
"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer." 
"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"
"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you. 
"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.
"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be. 
"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."
You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.
Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement. 
"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then. 
Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more. 
You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid. 
"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.
"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee. 
"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him. 
"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand. 
"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position. 
“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed. 
Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence. 
“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”
“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks. 
–X–
Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky. 
This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of. 
“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.
“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.” 
She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well. 
“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”
“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.” 
Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back. 
“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.” 
Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station. 
“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman. 
She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back. 
The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss. 
“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you. 
You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now. 
The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers. 
When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.
"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path. 
You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk. 
"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer. 
You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second. 
"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book. 
"Yes, get this bitch off of me." 
"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.
"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made. 
"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become. 
Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently? 
"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-" 
"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?" 
The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up. 
He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks. 
After  making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads. 
"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.
"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together. 
"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice." 
"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.
On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same. 
"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."
"How quaint and Christian of them."
"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here." 
Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass. 
"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good. 
"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand." 
You straightened in your chair, listening closer. 
"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you. 
"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up." 
"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure. 
"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved." 
He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone. 
Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.
"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered. 
"What?" 
"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."
"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"
"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty." 
"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in. 
You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking. 
"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze. 
"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"
"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.
"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences. 
"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp." 
"What are you insinuating, officer?"
"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.
"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body. 
You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear. 
"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin. 
"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations. 
"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."
"I'll notify, Hotch." 
"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question  but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips  so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest. 
"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."
He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.
–X– 
"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation. 
It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile. 
Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day. 
Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.
Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services. 
"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team. 
"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over." 
"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons  but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow. 
"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar. 
You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar. 
He hesitated a moment outside, though.
"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"
"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly. 
"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead. 
You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you. 
You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar  but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner. 
Surely enough  you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.
"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van. 
"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks. 
Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially. 
Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you. 
"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again. 
"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you. 
You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up. 
"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching. 
"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.
"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat." 
"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more  he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly. 
Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left. 
"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck. 
In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin. 
You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now? 
However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears. 
"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss. 
"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out." 
Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man. 
"What do you want us to do?" 
"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."
"Shit. Detective Dumbass?" 
"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."
Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood. 
"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.
"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were. 
You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.
Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking. 
"Followed me. Think he's listening outside." 
You pulled your own out to answer him.
"Let's give him a show then."
The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull. 
Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice  letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.
His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it. 
You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking. 
"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied. 
"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more." 
You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him. 
You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel. 
"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.
"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants. 
"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him. 
After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway. 
"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom. 
"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."
You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth. 
"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.
"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl." 
He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.
You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand. 
"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off." 
His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.
Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits. 
"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.
It was time to catch a killer.
2K notes · View notes
SVSSS AU where Shen Yuan custom orders a legitimate sword that looks just like Xin Mo, only that replica Xin Mo also transmigrated and is, in fact, the original Xin Mo. Xin Mo has very fond memories of its Favorite Person™️ who asked for it to be created and then held it in clumsy hands and said it was “literally the coolest!” Xin Mo is very irritated that it’s being used by some loser half demon to the point where it influences Luo Binghe’s mind towards bloodshed and sex.
And then SQQ and LBH meet again after the Abyss thing and Xin Mo is like “!!! Favorite Person™️!!! Favorite Person™️ is the person Loser Half Demon has so many lustful thoughts towards? But Favorite Person™️ is obviously afraid of Loser Half Demon! Jail for Loser Half Demon! Jail for a Thousand Years!!!”
And the plot abruptly goes way off the rails when Xin Mo does a 180 and starts influencing LBH to be a Pacifist Celibate. Eventually a majority of the canon plot points just kind of fizzle out. SQQ and LBH don’t really trust each other, but they both end up back on Qing Jing peak and they settle into a lukewarm but steadily improving slow burn relationship.
And by slow burn I mean centuries, because that’s how long it will take both SQQ to settle his sexual identity crisis and realize that “hey, maybe I’m in love with LBH after all.” And LBH has his own sexual identity crisis, because he was fantasizing about his Shizun romantically and sexually for so long and now he kind of just wants a platonic relationship? Why is he suddenly aroace? Is it just because he’s no longer a Horny Teenager?
This is the situation that TLJ emerges into. This is the situation Luo Bing-Ge emerges into, which is really weird for him because Xin Mo was all over killing the first Shizun, but now all Xin Mo is doing is lusting over New Shizun’s hands. At the end of this, Bing-Ge gets kicked back to the OG timeline without Xin Mo, and Celibate Bingqiu have two of them, they guess.
583 notes · View notes
enwifen · 1 month
Text
love that keeps you warm (s.jy)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing. husband!jake x fem reader
genre. domestic au, slice of life
warnings. tooth rotting fluff, jake is the best hubby ever (i would know!!), reader and jake have a daughter, healthy relationship (can’t relate ㅠㅠ)
wc. 1.7k
note. first post… (˃ ⌑ ˂ഃ ) nervy but lemme know what you think! don’t be silent c: reblogs and replies highly encouraged ♡ likes don’t help me ><
“Baby? I’m home.”
Jake smiles upon hearing you call out from the kitchen. He toes off his shoes and hangs his coat, beginning to make his way toward you. The closer he gets, the stronger the aroma of your cooking gets and soon enough he’s met with the familiar sight of you by the stove making dinner.
You go to greet him but, as always, your daughter beats you to it. Jake’s smile grows wider at the high pitched call of “daddy!” Thrown his way, quickly moving to stand in front of the four-year-old before she could take a leap of faith off of the kitchen counter.
As he scoops her up with one arm, his other shakes around your waist to pull you close. A sweet peck is placed on your cheek and, even after all this time, the skin tingles a little, butterflies lining your stomach.
“Welcome home.” You smile warmly, relishing in the slightly rough hand gently caressing the exposed skin of your hip.
Your mini you quickly grabs your husband’s attention again. How could either of you be mad though? She excitedly tells Jake all about her day and you could practically see his heart melting. Jake’s hand never leaves you though, adamant on showing both his wife and daughter attention at the same time.
“Sounds like the two of you had fun today, hm? Were you a good girl for mommy today, munchkin?” Your little girl quickly does a 180, from happily rambling to going quiet. “Amber…” Jake warns.
“Naur…”
You have to bite back a smile. Was today’s ‘I don’t wanna go home yet!’ Tantrum cute? Not in the slightest. Was your daughter’s aussie accent cute? Inexplicably so. Amber looked more like you but took after Jake in every other aspect and you loved it. Even in times like this, when being reprimanded for bad behaviour, her accent made you want to excuse it all.
You don’t though, instead focusing on plating the food as your husband gently but firmly scolds her. No matter what, his scolding was always followed by a “you know Daddy loves you, right angel?” And a “come give me a hug.”
Jake briefly disappears to wash up and settle in. He plants another seed of love to the side of your head as he leaves, chuckling softly as Amber asks for one too.
Warmth blooms in your chest as you set the table, purposefully scooping a few more spoonfuls onto his plate from your own. You’re perfectly capable of feeding yourself though that never mattered to your husband, your dear husband who’s love language had always been acts of service.
Jake emerges from your shared bedroom moments later, pulling your chair out for you at the table and doing the same for Amber before lifting her into the seat.
“I promise to always treat you like the princess you are.” He once told you, years ago on one of your many dates and then again, during the exchange of vows on your wedding day.
You listen intently as Jake talks about his day, occasionally sharing your two cents between spoonfuls of chicken and rice. Warmth tints your cheeks red as Jake thumbs a grain of rice off your chin.
“Even after all this time you blush at the smallest things, baby.”
“I can’t help it.” You whine playfully.
He smiles fondly. “My shy girl.”
An hour later and Jake takes care of the washing up, noticing the few yawns you failed to hide during dinner time.
He always did appreciate all the work you did for him, taking care of your bundle of joy, cleaning the house, always making sure he was happy and comfortable. You were well aware of his appreciation too, loving how your husband would never fail to let you know of it daily.
“Let me lead bedtime tonight too, hm?” He asks, though you know he won’t really take no for an answer. You don’t complain either, smiling as he comfortingly rubs your shoulders, peering over to see the game you and Amber were playing.
Being a girl dad, Jake was no stranger to playing barbie dolls. However, his daughter’s high standards meant that this game was for mommy only because, in her words, “girls don’t talk like that” in regards to Jake’s deeper voice.
Instead, he watches with a smile, sometimes asking questions such as:
“What colour is Barbie’s dress, baby?”
“Pink daddy!”
“Aaaand what colour is Raquelle’s hair?” (Of course he knows each of their names too, truly the perfect dad)
“Black! Like mine!”
“Good girl, Amber~”
You pat the four-year-old’s head. “Our smart girl.”
Playtime continues for a little while longer but as time goes on, you can see Amber begin to grow tired. Jake takes her upstairs to brush her teeth before she starts dozing off.
You use that time to clean up the few toys strewn across the floor. Barbie toys are truly a pain sometimes, are all these tiny accessories really necessary? Surely not, but they make your daughter happy so you shake your head as you lower yourself to look under the tv stand. How everything seems to always end up under there, you’ll never know.
As you come back up you hear the soft thuds of Jake’s footsteps walking over to Amber’s room, noting you should head up to kiss her goodnight soon.
A certain photo catches your eye, your hands reaching for the photo frame.
It’s a photo from you and Jake’s wedding photoshoot.
You smile, taking in every detail. Jake stands to your right, donning a classic black suit and tie, hand clasped within yours as he smiles at you. You’re facing the camera, bouquet in your free hand and smiling cheerfully- cute nose scrunch and all. The sun shines brightly in the background, bathing the photo in a soft glow. Reminiscent of the love you and your husband had for each other.
Wondering what’s taking you so long, Jake jogs downstairs only to catch you admiring the wedding photo. Something you did often.
“Love?” He calls softly. He smiles after catching your attention. “Not gonna come kiss our girl goodnight?” He chuckles.
“Oh! Sorry, I got distracted, I’m coming.”
By the time you reach Amber’s room, she’s already half asleep. She mumbles sleepily as you and Jake simultaneously kiss her cheeks, wishing her the sweetest dreams. Her eyes flutter shut within seconds, gently lulled into a peaceful slumber.
With the dishes washed and dried, living room cleared of toys, you and Jake are finally able to retire for the night.
Sometimes the two of you spend your downtime in other ways, watching movies, giving the other a massage- maybe even a cheeky glass of wine on a Friday night. But tonight you choose to just settle in bed, Jake sat up against the headboard with your head resting on his chest. His heart thumps rhythmically in his chest, “each pump is full of love for you.” He once said. It’s terribly cheesy and made you cringe but deep down you couldn’t deny it made you feel all mushy inside.
Delicately, patterns are traced along the skin of your arms. A lazy grin spreads across your lips before another yawn escapes. You feel safe and secure, warm in your lover’s embrace.
“Go to sleep, y/n… you’ve had a long day, it’s time to rest now, hm?” Jake giggles at your sleepy mumbles. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying love.”
“I said… you should sleep too… I know you’re tired.”
“Mm I am… just better at hiding it.” He quips, softly laughing through a groan when you hit him.
You both turn off your bedside lamps, darkness now falling over the room. Still, you find your way back to each other, easily tangling your limbs together. Your bodies slot together perfectly, like they’re each other’s missing puzzle pieces.
Although Jake was better at hiding his fatigue, nine times out of ten he was the first to fall asleep. As soon as your fingers run through his dark locks he’s a goner, warm breath fanning against your cheek in slow, steady breaths.
“I love you, Sim Jaeyun.” You whisper.
“…I love you too, Sim Y/n.”
You fall asleep with a smile on your face.
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sayruq · 2 months
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Palestinian civil defence crews have uncovered a mass grave inside the Nasser Medical Complex in Gaza’s Khan Younis, with 180 bodies recovered so far, Al Jazeera has learned, as Israel has continued bombardment of the devastated coastal enclave for more than six months. The discovery on Saturday, and continuing into Sunday, comes after the Israeli military withdrew its troops from the southern city on April 7. Much of the Khan Younis is now in ruins after months of relentless Israeli bombardment and heavy fighting. “In the hospital courtyard, civil defence members and paramedics have retrieved 180 bodies buried in this mass grave by the Israeli military. The bodies include elderly women, children and young men,” Al Jazeera’s Hani Mahmoud reporting from Khan Younis said on Sunday. In a statement late on Saturday, Palestinian emergency services said: “Our teams continue their search and retrieval operations for the remaining martyrs in the coming days as there are still a significant number of them.”
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my-love-is-sunlight · 2 months
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Turmoil
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Law x gn reader
Warnings: little fight between Law and reader but nothing crazy, sfw and fluff at the end, good ending, FEELINGS
Word count: 1.6k
Summary: In which you save Law’s life and he gets mad at you
Masterlist
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
The moonlight danced with the dark sea water, accompanying you in your office as your eyes struggled to stay focus on the paper work in front of you, it was hard to tell the time when you lived in a submarine, but your body knows its well past 2 am, begging for you to snuggle into bed and drift away
From the shadows behind your door emerged your Captain, looking as tired as you did, a brow arching in confusion
“What are you doing?” His low raspy tone makes you jump on your seat as your eyes open wide in his direction, before they roll in annoyance and your eyebrows furrow
“Doing the work that YOU assigned me, Captain” the tone of your answer lets Law know that you’re still mad at him
“Should’ve thought better before-“ suddenly, and surprisingly you interrupt his so re-used speech he had given you a million times over since that evening
“Oh give me a break!” You trow your pen on the table, slamming your hands before gifting him the nastiest look he had ever witness painted on your face
Some days ago, the Heart Pirates found themselves in yet another fight were things weren’t going well for their Captain. You were the crews strategists and whenever you were caught in situations like these you were always by Laws side, but this time he had made you promise to stay out of trouble for this one, which in all honesty had struck your pride. Everyone knew how relentless of a fighter you were, that’s why you had gained such a position in the crew, so being told to back up was like a punch in the stomach, specially coming from your trusted Captain
Trafalgar Law was a stubborn, stubborn man, and that sometimes got him in more trouble that he could handle, as the enemies arrow flew trough his direction and a sword was drawn to his heart, in a blink of an eye you jumped in to protect him, without a second thought
Nothing bad had happened to you, you had came out victorious with a couple of scars nothing out of the ordinary, so when you were met with Laws angry eyes, a long speech on why what you had done was absolutely stupid and a punishment, you were left puzzled, and humiliated in front of all of your crew mates
Since then, you had been locked in your office, getting the extra work the doctor had assigned you so that ‘you learn how to listen’ done, and avoiding any words and looks of his
“I saved you” you got up of your chair as you walked towards the frame of your Captain, he may tower over you, but that would not stop you
“You put your life on the line y/n-ya, that I don’t tolerate” he answers you with a stern voice, eyes examining your every expression
“I did what I did because I wanted to, you may be the one giving orders around here, but you do not get dictate when or how I die”
As you get closer, Trafalgar cannot help but start to feel that maybe he was being selfish, after all, you had given him the greatest of gifts
Knowing there’s someone out there that is willing to die for you, no questions asked
But at the same time, the mere thought of losing you because he couldn’t be up to the task of protecting you boiled his blood and made his stomach turn a million times over
“Then maybe, you shouldn’t have joined my crew in the first place” he blurts out, every single word hitting you like a venomous snake bite, your heart clenching at the thought of being unwanted
Your greatest fear
Suddenly your body language does a 180, your anger being replaced with what could only be perfectly described as heartache. Almost immediately the doctor regrets even stepping foot in your office, before he can say anything you’re already back on your seat
“Sorry Captain” the pain in both your voice and your face makes Law hurt, and panic, and regret, yet words fail to come out of his mouth… just when he needed them most
“Don’t stay up too late” is all he can say before closing the door behind him
Next days in the Polar Tang were a pain, Law had been quite more irritable around everyone, even snapping on poor Bepo. You were either locked away working or in your room and sometimes even skipping dinner just to not cross paths with the damn surgeon, and if you were unlucky enough to do so, you would turn away immediately
Everyone knew something was up between the two of you, Ikkaku and Penguin had showed up at your office asking if everything was ok. You decided to keep it to yourself, you knew if Law found out you’re talking about him behind his back, about personal matters? Yeah, you would be dead to him, and even when mad, you respected him
Shachi was send to dig around Law, but when your name crossed his lips the doctor immediately shot down the conversation, this confirming their suspicions
But then, you finished the damn paper work, and guess who was the one you needed to hand it to?
You tried to convince anyone else to deliver the papers to Laws office, but it seemed like everyone had catch up and found this as an opportunity for you to make up with him, frustrating you beyond comprehension. They had even got to Bepo first
“Sorry y/n, I was told to tell you to deliver it yourself” he offered you a sympathetic smile, afraid of your answer, you just sighed defeated and thanked him anyways
“Just go in and hand him the papers! That easy” Ikkakus voice rings in your head as you try to wash your nervousness away in front of Laws office. Hesitantly you knock on the door, feeling lightheaded at the mere touch of it
“Go away Shachi” the doctors muffled voice meets your ears, confused you answer with the tiniest “It’s me, Captain” After a pause that felt like it lasted a decade, thinking he may had shambles himself out of the office, you hear a “Come in” so you do
You enter the office slowly, almost as if you made any sudden moves you’ll get caught like a pray in the wild. Trafalgar is sitting at his desk, his hands fidgeting and eyes following your form
“I have the paper work you asked for” you stay pretty far away from the desk, fear written all over you making Law feel twice as worse as he had been feeling this past few days
“Thank you y/n-ya, just leave them here” his voice sounded softer, but this didn’t made you feel any less scared as you approached the desk, gaze fixated on the papers in your hand. As you positioned your hard wok on the desk Law makes the uncharacteristic decision to hold your wrist before you retrieved, a shock running through your whole body at the action
Law’s heart beats a million times per second as he finds the right words to approach the matter, maybe he should’ve thought about them before taking your hand, your soft skin touching his freezing him. You lock eyes for a second and finally Law understands everything he had done wrong, from being ungrateful, rude, harsh and just overall mistreating the person he cares for the most
He would rather being shot than admit he was in the wrong, but he knew if he didn’t he’ll lose you, which was the reason he had caused this mess in the first place, so he swallows his pride
“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have screamed at you in front of everyone, or made you do all this work and… saying those awful things”
The fear washes from your body as you hear his apology, something you never thought you’d witness in your life, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding since you stepped foot on the door, offering Law a genuine smile that made his heart fall to his feet
“It’s ok Captain”
“Law” he says, letting your hand go as his own insecurities disappear, thinking you were gonna bash at him after his apology
“Law” you parrot back, earning him another sweet smile of yours
“I just… didn’t wanted to lose you, I was so lost in that thought that I didn’t realize that’s exactly what I was doing” you had seemed to have pushed a button because he just couldn’t stop the thoughts that just fell directly to his tongue and overflow like a cascade out of his mouth
Laws eyes open wide as he sees you approach the other side of the desk, your arms wrap around his wide shoulders like the softest blanket, hugging him while he still sits on the chair, your head resting in top of his hat. The surgeon stays completely still, taken aback
“Thank you for apologizing Law, I really appreciate it” you whisper making his face bright red and his hands shake, the way your body weights over his makes his brain malfunction and his heart go wild
You let go and approach the door of the office, Law remaining completely broken and flushed in his seat
“See ya’ at dinner.. Law” you say his name mischievously, giggling after before you disappear
The Captain stays still for a while, alone in his office, thinking about everything being open about his thoughts and feelings had gained him, and how addicting his name sounded falling from your sweet lips
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This came to me in a dream and wrote it in almost one sitting lmao, feel free to request anything you wanna read I am having so much fun writing his emo ass
Reblogs are appreciated ;)
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amomentsescape · 3 months
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hi hi! I was hoping you could do slashers with a super bubbly and affectionate s/o who would beat up anyone who dares hurt the slasher while still holding their sweet smile
Slashers with Sweet and Dangerous! Reader
Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo
A/N: So I got a bit carried away and wrote this as if Reader is willing to kill for the Slashers. So hopefully it's not too intense for what you were wanting! Feel free to let me know what you think :)
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Freddy Krueger
He knew there was a reason he was so drawn to you
You were sweet, kind, and just an overall ray of sunshine that Freddy never knew he needed
He loves basking in your warmth
But seeing you hold that damn grin while ripping out someone's throat for just punching Freddy has him weak in the knees
He loves the affectionate sweet side to you, don't get him wrong
But knowing that you can do a complete 180 makes him feel like he's in his own beautiful type of dream
He feels more comfortable telling you his plans now and the types of ideas he has for killing future victims
And you just sit there all happily and nod along like he's telling you a bedtime story
It's cute but also so foreign to him
He has a hard time remembering that you can be just as deadly as him when you want to be
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Michael Myers
He honestly has no idea how to feel about this situation
It took him some time to get used to being with someone so cuddly and happy all the time
He wasn't much of a fan of it at first, but something inside him refused to let you go or kill you
But seeing you smile over his victims and even step in to prevent him from getting injured has him confused
He is more than capable of protecting himself
He doesn't need you getting involved
But at the same time, knowing he isn't the only one with this grotesque side makes him feel.... content, in a way
He just doesn't like you stepping in too much
His victims are his, and he refuses to share
But if you save him from getting stabbed or set on fire
Well... then that's fine he guesses
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Jason Voorhees
You two are practically different sides to the same coin
He comes off as deadly, incapable of emotions, and just an overall killing machine
But when he's with you, he's the sweetest and most kind man you have ever met
You're practically the opposite
You come off as an innocent, bubbly goody-two-shoes to most of the public
But when someone dares hurt Jason, a hidden poison emerges from within you
Jason never thought you were capable of picking up his notorious machete, nonetheless swinging it right through someone's skull
He just froze up in shock at this realization
He was drawn to how sweet you were to him, but knowing that you're capable of killing only makes him more happy
He was always worried that you would leave him after dealing with his darkness for too long
But knowing that you aren't all sunshine and rainbows has reassured him
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Thomas Hewitt
Considering what his family eats every night for dinner, he would have hoped that you were capable of similar actions to him
Killing is just a way of life to him, so knowing that you can do the same is so normal
That isn't to say that he wasn't surprised the first time you stuck up for him
But if anything, that surprise was immediately followed by a sense of relief
If you can do that, then you can fit right in with the rest of his family!
They liked how affectionate and kind you were to Thomas, but they were always worried that you were going to be too soft for their way of life
Now he knows there's nothing to worry about
Well, maybe except for getting on your bad side
You always have that sweet smile on your face, and he'll be damned if he pisses you off one of these times
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Bubba Sawyer
The first time you killed for him, he couldn't help but jump around in glee
You're just like him!
You're covered in blood and guts but still smile sweetly at Bubba
Just like he does for you
It honestly just reinforces the idea that you were meant to be together in his mind
You stick up for him, and he sticks up for you
With that being said, he does still paint you as this sweet little angel that needs to be safe at all times
He doesn't want you to get your hands dirty unless absolutely necessary
So he prefers for you to stay away from all the carnage he goes through on a daily basis
But he won't try and control you
As long as he is met with that soft smile and big hug at the end of a long day, Bubba is content
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Brahms Heelshire
Oh...
He's flattered, don't get him wrong
The fact that you're willing to protect him shows that you really are devoted to him
And he loves that
But he also doesn't want you intruding with his desires
That person is going to die?
Brahms wants to be the one to see their last breath
It's not very often he gets to feel like this, so he wants to soak up every exhilarating second of it while it's there
And you're just so pure and kind that he doesn't want you becoming all tainted like him
Your job is to be the good in Brahms and take care of him
Not to let this darkness take over
You provide, he protects
That's all he asks for
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Norman Bates
And to think after all of this time, Norman just assumed you were like him
Quiet, sweet, affectionate
He had no idea you'd be capable of fully plunging a knife into someone's neck just for saying a couple mean words to Norman
But he secretly couldn't help the way he admired your blood splattered face, that smile he loved so much shining through it all
He likes feeling protected by you
It lets him know that you really care about him
And the fact that you can flip from one side to the other is so intriguing to him
In every other situation, you speak softly and gently laugh at the smallest things
But when one bad thing happens, the darkness creeps out
It doesn't freak him out as much as he would have originally thought
He just still can't believe that these sides to you are coming from the same person
Who is he to judge though?
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Billy Loomis
Billy was immediately attracted to your warm energy
But he was also hesitant that he would somehow contaminate you with his trauma and dark fantasies
He wanted to keep you as were: the bubbly and happy partner that was always by his side
But when a last minute heist was going wrong, he would have never expected to look over and see you all bloody, a stained knife in your hand and a lifeless body on the floor
When he called your name, all you did was look up at him and smile
Billy just about lost it
He had always thought that he needed to be the one to protect you and himself
But seeing you throw yourself into violence for his sake was absolutely beautiful
He didn't think you'd be capable of something like this
But knowing that you are makes him love you that much more
You're nothing but perfect for him
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Stu Macher
He won't say it out loud, but he's the tiniest bit scared of you
Not in a bad way by any means
If anything, he thinks it's sexy
And he can see a bit of familiarity in the way you act too
You both enjoy laughing at stupid things and keeping the energy up when needed
At any given moment, you two are all over each other and smiling so wide that you can feel your cheeks burn
You two make the ultimate power couple
But if someone dares say something bad about you, they're dead the next morning
And if Stu gets hurt by one of his attempted victims, you better believe you'll be there to finish the job
Stu honestly loves how deceiving you can be
No one would ever look at you and expect you to have this darker element
But to be fair, he's in the same boat
No one would ever suspect him of such behavior
And that's probably why you two make the perfect team
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Vincent Sinclair
He never thought he'd ever meet some who cared for him the way you do
Especially resorting to violence just to keep him safe
This must be some sort of dream
You practically tore this person to shreds and yet, you're still able to turn back at Vincent and smile sweetly, asking if he's okay
Are you even the same person he was just cuddling with 10 minutes ago?
He worries that you'll get yourself hurt one of these times, so he tries to advise you against doing something like that again
But he won't deny the thrill it gave him seeing you act so... differently
Just please don't step in unless absolutely necessary
If anything happened to you, he wouldn't know what to do
He knows you can clearly take care of yourself, he just doesn't want to risk it
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Bo Sinclair
What a precious little thing
It would be a lie to say that Bo wasn't immediately drawn to your softness and positivity
You radiated sunshine, and it was a new experience for him
He has always wanted to be the protector in his relationships
And he truly had no clue that you weren't just another damsel looking to be rescued
He remembers the first time you saved his ass
He turned up to see the man with a metal pipe sticking out of his chest
All the while, you're standing behind him, that sweet little smile still on your face like usual
Bo was at a complete loss for words
He loves this side to you
He still likes to feel all bad and tough
And he loves when you ask him for help and play up the innocence
But when something comes up, he knows he doesn't need to worry about you
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purplecoffee13 · 15 hours
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Please Please Please - Pt 2*
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Summary: “A sudden call from Harry in the middle of the night makes you realize just how little you actually know about your neighbor.”
Wc: 5k
Tropes: good girl x bad boy / neighbors
Warnings: angst, fighting, cursing, SMUT, bit of a degradation kink, multiple orgasms, GUN KINK, corruption kink
A/N: Hey guys! As promised, here is part 2 of Pls Pls Pls. It is quite a sudden 180 from the previous part, so try not to get whiplash. Enjoy!! :)
General Masterlist
Spending your Sunday night at a police station bailing out your neighbor was definitely not on your list of preferred weekend activities. But here you are, sitting on a chair, waiting for the officers to bring Harry outside.
You couldn't believe it at first. Of course, you knew it had to be some kind of emergency when your ringing phone woke you up. After all, it was two in the morning, and random calls at two in the morning usually didn't indicate anything good.
"Hello?" Your croaky voice greeted whoever was calling you this late, or early, depending on your lifestyle.
"Hi love. I need your help." You frowned at the sound of Harry talking through the phone.
"Harry?" You questioned.
"Yes, darling?"
"Wha— are you okay? Where are you?" You leaned over your nightstand to turn on the lamp. Your eyes shut tightly at the sudden harsh light, rubbing your eyes as you stifled a yawn.
"I'm fine, I'm at the police station. Listen, I need you to go into my apartment, get the envelope with cash from under my mattress, and then I need you to get over here. Could you do that for me, darling?"
"Uhm, yes. Yes, of course." You got up from your bed and grabbed the first pants you saw. Your movements got to a halt when you realized it would be impossible to even do that. "But wait, I don't have your—"
"There's an extra key in your top kitchen drawer next to the fridge."
"Wha..." your voice trailed off as you buried over to your kitchen and opened the drawer, indeed finding a key that didn't belong to your apartment. "When did you put this here?"
"I'll explain later, I promise. See you in a bit?"
You sighed. What the absolute fuck was going on? This man might just be even more mysterious than you had already thought.
"See you in a bit."
The muffled voices coming from the other side of the door makes your perk up in your seat. Like you had expected, you spot Harry's face through the windows on the door. He is wearing a frown that makes him look very intimidating, and a wave of intense stress hits you.
Who the fuck even is this neighbor of yours?
You are on your feet very quickly when Harry finally walks through the door. Your eyes widen at the state of him. He is wearing a tank top with a dress shirt thrown over it. The dress shirt is scratched open and his entire outfit is dirty. His face is mostly untouched, except for a cut in his eyebrow that is covered in dried blood. He looks rough.
His lips form into a grin when he spots you, but you are having none of it. Your knitted eyebrows make your glare more intense, and you don't even give Harry the opportunity to greet you when he is close enough, because you are already walking towards the exit.
You push the doors open and storm across the parking lot. You hear the chuckling scoff from behind you after the creaking door signals that Harry is hot on your heels.
"What's wrong sweetheart?" He asks almost cockily, strutting behind you. You've arrived at your car, so you turn around to face him, shaking your head in disbelief.
"Are you serious?!" You groan, to which Harry shrugs lazily. "You called me in the middle of the night, asking me to bail you out with money that you've hid in a duffel bag under your bed, which — by the way — I had access to because you planted a spare house key in my apartment! That's what wrong!"
"I told you I'd explain." Harry says, still nonchalant as ever. You can quite literally feel your blood boiling. Why in God's name is he being so relaxed about this? 
"Yeah, you fucking better." You spit out, clenching your jaw as you turn back towards the car. Harry's spiteful voice stops you in your tracks, though.
"Hey! You didn't have to come here, nobody forced you."
When your eyes meet his again, you don't miss the frustration that radiates from his. It is your turn to scoff as you take a few steps towards Harry until you stand in front of him.
"Oh yeah, that's fucking easy," you are about ready to start a fight, but the sight of his bruised face makes you think twice. Instead, you sigh, throwing your arms over each other. "Get in the car, we'll talk at home."
You are about to get back to the car when you realize that Harry isn't following you. You squint at him and the way he is standing there on the parking lot, a wide stance with his hands behind his back. He doesn't do well with following orders or demands, you've learned that about him in these past weeks. But right now, you couldn't care less.
Rolling your eyes, you march back to Harry and grab a fistful of his shirt before pulling him along to the passenger seat. By how easy it is to get him in the car, you figure that he enjoys your current attitude, otherwise he never would've let you boss him around like this.
You aren't interested in whether he likes it or not right now, all you care about it getting home.
The drive is excruciating. The radio fills the silence that neither of you are willing to break. Every shift in his seat and sigh from his mouth manages to make your blood boil. You can't believe he has the nerve to act as if he has the right to be pissed right now.
It is only when the both of you are at your door, and you silently walk into your own apartment, that Harry breaks the silence.
"Where are you going?" He asks, irritated.
"Bed."
"Thought you wanted to talk." His tone his mocking, but you can tell that he is hiding real confusion behind it.
"I decided I'm not in the mood to hear your bullshit excuses right now, maybe tomorrow." You shrug, keys rattling as you open the door.
"So dramatic..." Harry mutters under his breath, but you hear him just fine. You are quick to turn around.
"What did you say?"
Harry shakes his head, sighing. "You heard me. If you're so fucking mad about this, why the fuck did you even come in the first place?"
"Well, what the fuck did you think, Harry?! Did you expect me to be all cool and casual about this?!" You throw your hands up expressively. You turn around and open the door of your apartment, walking in at a furious pace with Harry hot on your heels.
"I told you I'd fucking explain! Jesus Christ... If I'd known you were gonna whine about this so much, I would've called one of my buddies." He says, and it makes you stifle a laugh. Hands on your hips, you take a few steps towards Harry.
"Fine, explain then, tell me what the fuck you were doing in there." You demand, and you notice how his face softens at your calmer yet stern tone. He sighs, looking to the side. Your heart stops for a second, tension growing on your stomach. He is avoiding your gaze. He never avoids it.
"Just— got caught up in a brawl at the pub. Let my buddies take a run for it, but the police did catch me." He says, eyeing your body. You frown, your eyes searching for his but you absolutely cannot get him to look at you.
"You're lying to me." You say, and even though it is merely a suggestive thought, Harry's reaction makes you realize you are speaking the truth. Harry takes a deep breath, shaking his head as if it should be able to convince you. "You're a fucking liar."
You step forward, making sure it is impossible to avoid eye contact with you. "You told me you were letting me know you. But you don't want me to know you. Telling me simple things to give me the illusion that you trust me. Meanwhile your knuckles are constantly covered in bruises and you have duffel bags of money in your bed. Or that gun, in the drawer of your nightstand?"
A furrow grows between Harry's eyebrows at the mention of the gun. "You went through my things?" He growls. You nod calmly.
"I figured I might as well get to know the guy I'm bailing out." You shrug, watching the anger rise to his face.
"Do you have any idea who the fuck you're talking to right now?" He asks, near the brink of a meltdown. His jaw is clenched and he looks like he might kill you.
"No, apparently I don't!" You shout into his face. Harry laughs bitterly, sending a shiver down your spine. He shakes his head and turns around, heading for the door.
"Should've called one of my buddies..." He mutters as he goes to open the door.
"You keep saying that, but you called me." You call out, and Harry looks back at you.
"Yeah, and it was a big fucking mistake. Don't know what I was thinking." He retorts.
"You called me, because you knew that I'd come. Because I care about you and I was worried sick, and because I would come and get you every single fucking time. No matter the situation, no matter the amount of money filled duffel bags you have under your bed, no matter the gun you sleep next to every night." You're now standing in front of Harry, looking up at him. The confrontation in your sentence is rubbing him the wrong way, you can see it in his face. You continue anyway; he needs to hear it.
"But you're too much of a pussy to admit that someone cares about you, unconditionally, because that would make it all a bit too real, wouldn't it? But I'm not disposable, you can't just cut me out of your life whenever you please. That's not how this works."
That strikes a nerve. Harry steps even closer, leaning down a little bit. "You have no fucking idea how easily I can cut you out of my life."
"Go, then." You cross your arms, waiting for him to walk out that door. Your words are cocky, and you are confident in what you are saying, but a small part of you worries that maybe you've miscalculated your connection with Harry.
Harry doesn't say anything, merely scoffing at your casual words. He wants to turn around, walk out, and never come back. To prove to you just how disposable you are. But he can't, because you aren't.
"For fucks sake..."
The words fall from his lips in a whisper, and before you can figure out what he means, Harry lunges forward and grabs your head to pull it close to him, his lips pressing against yours.
You moan at the feel of his tongue intertwining with yours, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. There is so much anger, frustration, sadness, love, and other indescribable things that built the intensity of the kiss. Nothing could've prepared you.
He pushes you against the wall, his hands taking all over your body while yours are tangling themselves in his beautiful curls. With a hand on your lower back, Harry pulls your body closer to his, your bodies almost as close as your tongues are now. You need more of him.
Taking ahold of your thighs, Harry lifts you up and carries you to your bedroom, where he drops you onto the bed. Your back hasn't even entirely hit the mattress before Harry's hands start undressing you. He takes off your shoes and pants in no time, the both of you way too pent up to take your time right now. Then, he slides your underwear down your legs and throwing it into the corner of the room.
Three of his fingers trace over your upper body before he pushes down your lower jaw and stuffs them in your mouth.
"Suck." He orders.
You do as he says, licking and sucking on his fingers like it is the last thing you are ever allowed to do. After a couple seconds, Harry takes back his fingers, and leans down, spitting on your pussy himself. A whimper leaves your mouth the second the liquid comes in contact with your sensitive skin, and you moan loudly when he starts to rub it over your cunt.
"You're so fucking frustrating. Shouting at me, cursing me out..." He mentions. Two of his wet fingers enter your pussy, and you let your head fall back. Refraining yourself from arching into him too much already, you try and focus on something—anything— else. "You're such a brat... and you don't even know who you're dealing with."
Mewling at the feeling of his amazing touch, you manage to croak out. "Show me, then."
"What, sweetheart?" Harry asks with a fake smile. In fact, it seems rather devilish. It shouldn't turn you on even more, but for some fucked up reason it does.
"Show me who I'm dealing with."
A low chuckle escapes his throat. You frown, not amused with the apparent joy he gets from what you're saying. You're being completely serious.
"I don't think you can handle that, sweetheart." He smirks, and it makes you pout.
"Yes, I can." You argue, the frown on your face combined with your big Bambi eyes making you look adorably mad. Harry sighs, clearly entertained by your stubbornness. Without another word, he leans forward and digs his head between your legs. You cry out at the contact of his tongue with your clit, and repeatedly moan his name at the mix of his fingers and tongue driving you properly insane.
Your hips keep shooting upward, and Harry tries to contain your non-stop squirming by pushing down your hips with his free arm. He doesn't restrain you entirely, liking the view of you falling apart for him too much anyway.
When you reach your climax, your hand has found Harry's hair, on which you mercilessly tug while making a mess below him. After riding out your high, Harry grabs your arm and scoops an arm around your waist before picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder.
"What are you doing?!" You shriek, being able to do nothing but hang over him like a ragdoll as he walks out of the bedroom and, towards the front door?
You gasp when he opens the door and you find yourself in the hallway, without any pants on. You hear the sound of keys jingling and a door open, and before you can demand Harry let you go, he waltzes into his own apartment.
His dark walls and furniture are the exact opposite of your apartment. Very manly, very serious.
Harry puts you down, laying you on his couch. He leans forward, his hand sneaking under your shirt to fondle your breast. You bite your lip at the feeling of his firm hands massaging you.
"You wanna know me? You want to know who you're dealing with?" He whispers, and you nod furiously, not being able to go without his touch down there for much longer. "We'll start with a house tour then. This is the living room."
You frown, it's not like his apartment is much different from yours. You look around the room, but your attention is back on Harry the second his mouth is back on your cunt. You mewl, not having expected his mouth on you again so soon.
Harry's skilled tongue along with the sensitivity from your first orgasm gets you closer and closer in an almost embarrassingly short time. Your legs try to control the amount of pleasure that you are getting, but Harry's hands keep spreading them apart, leaving you with no choice but to take everything he gives you.
"I— I'm gonna come!" You groan, that tension in your stomach so close to exploding. He keeps the quick paced tempo with which his tongue is assaulting your clit, and in no time you are twitching as your orgasm washes over you. Harry moans at the way you cry out his name, and licks you clean despite the pleas that tell him to stop because you're too sensitive.
You don't have time to steady your breathing, because Harry is already pulling you up and leading you to the kitchen. He doesn't waste any time, taking off your shirt, leaving you entirely naked. You watch as he takes your body in, your mind too cloudy to feel insecure. But with the way Harry looks at you, you don't think you would've worried about that in the first place.
His eyes rake down your body as he takes off his belt, and walks closer to you. Your hands reach forward, wanting to take off his shirt, but Harry grabs one of your wrists and turns you around. Taking ahold of the other wrist, he ties your hands together with his belt before bending you over his counter.
"My house, my rules." His low voice reminds you, making you shiver in anticipation. You hear some ruffling behind you, and you can only figure that Harry has taken off his pants. His hand rubs over your skin, lowering from your waist to your ass.
"Poor girl, you have no idea what you got yourself into." He taunts, his cock lining up with your pussy, the top of him stroking over your soaking wet cunt. You whine at the minimal contact, needing him to enter you right this second. You flinch forward, moaning loudly when Harry brings his hand down onto your ass. The sting of it almost makes you cry, you want him so bad.
"Please, please... please." you cry, pushing yourself backwards and into him. He pushes you back forward, tutting you.
"So desperate..."
Not being able to hold it any longer, Harry plunges his hard cock into you. A muffled cry escapes your throat, shocked by the size and girth of him. Of course you aren't entirely surprised—he just exceeds that kind of energy—but you hadn't dreamed of it being this big.
"Ah, shit! Harry... oh my god!" The string of words summed up exactly what you were feeling as he thrusted himself into you over and over again: everything.
"You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this..." He says, his hands sliding up and down your back. "Ever since you knocked on my fucking door wearing nothing but that oversized shirt."
"And now here you are, bent over my counter, letting me fuck you in every corner of my apartment." He groans, spanking your ass again. You shoot forward at the impact, moaning at the painful feeling. You didn't know that turned you on so much until now.
"W— What took you so long?" You have the nerve to ask him, but by the laugh that sounded from behind you, it seems that Harry likes your boldness.
"I'm a bad guy, sweetheart. Didn't want to ruin you." He coos, which is extremely contradicting to the harsh thrusts with which he drives himself into you. "But I guess that's too late now."
"I was yours to ruin anyway." You say softly, and it makes Harry still inside of you, followed by a very deep groan. You frown when you feel Harry pulling his cock out of you, confused by the sudden change.
"Fuck, baby. You can't just say shit like that to me, nearly made me come." He is breathing heavily, and tugs on your arms to make you stand up straight. He begins to walk away and grabs your arm, taking you with him. You follow him all the way to a door, which you realize is his bedroom as soon as he opens it.
You are about to ask him about a photograph that his hanging on his wall, when he pushes you onto the bed. Hands still tied behind your back, you let Harry get you a little bit higher on the bed before positioning himself in front of you again.
He spreads your legs as wide as he can, fingers dug into your waistline as he enters you again. You let your head fall back, knitting your eyebrows at how those short seconds without his cock have made his second time entering feel just as tight as the first time. Harry seems to think the same thing, moaning loudly at the tightness of you.
Arching your back, Harry gets an amazing view of your tits bouncing back and forth as he fucks you like you're some sort of ragdoll. He can't help but reach for your breasts again, playing with them and trying not too orgasm too soon upon hearing your loud moans.
You feel like you are on sensory overload. The restraint, the nipple stimulation, and Harry's cock pounding into you, it is bringing you into another galaxy. You never thought it was possible to feel this much pleasure at the same time.
"You are mine to ruin." Harry mumbles, as if reminding himself. You nod at his words, wholeheartedly agreeing with that. If ruining meant him fucking you like this every day, then he could do whatever he wanted.
"Mm, you love that, don't you?" He asks. You open your eyes to look at him, a devilish smile forming on your face. "You love that I'm the monster who you're supposed to be running from. I bet you fantasize about it all the time; the big bad guy corrupting you from your innocence by fucking you into oblivion."
"Yes, yes, yes..." you repeat, too fucked out to say anything else.
"Such a bad girl, getting pounded by her dangerous neighbor." He taunts you, increasing his already quick pace. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, letting the pleasure just wash over you. You feel like you might pass out any minute, but you've also never felt more alive. "You'd let me do it all, won't you?"
"Anything." You pant, struggling to keep your eyes open. You shriek when Harry thrusts into you very deeply and stays there for a couple seconds, leaning over you to grab something. You gasp when you Harry holding his gun. Before you can ask him what the fuck he thinks he's doing, he starts moving again.
It shouldn't be the reason why you're so close to your orgasm all of a sudden, but the sight of Harry holding that gun is quite literally driving you insane. You can't believe it, it is the hottest thing you have ever seen.
To your surprise, he begins to trace lines over your body with the barrel of the gun. You whimper at the cold feeling of the object against your skin, not sure how long you're going to be able to hold in that third orgasm. Then, the gun travels upwards, all the way to your mouth, and your eyes widen when the words leave Harry's pink lips.
"Suck."
You look down at the gun, and back at him, a bit unsure of how safe it is, despite wanting to obey him very badly.
"Safety's on." He adds, calming your nerves a bit. And without a second thought, without considering you are doing a very dangerous thing right now, you take the gun in your mouth. In spite of Harry's vagueness, you trust him very much.
And so you begin sucking on the gun, moaning at the way Harry reacts to it. His thrusts increase in speed and intensity, and the way he massages your breasts are getting you incredibly close.
"Fuck, you're insane. You're fucking perfect." His compliments have you clenching your walls around him, something he doesn't miss. "Are you gonna come for me again, baby? Should've known that danger turns you on so much. Will do anything to keep me close, huh? Even taking my gun in your mouth while you get ruined by my cock."
"Yes, anything—oh fuck! I'm gonna cum!" The words are barely comprehensible with your mouth still filled up with the barrel of his gun, but your body tells Harry enough. Licking the pad of his thumb, he brings it to your clit, rubbing circles until you are a blubbering mess under him. You feel like jelly.
The way you are tightening around him sets off Harry's orgasm. He groans out your name repeatedly as he comes inside of you. The feeling of him coating your walls is a thought you find yourself liking a bit too much for a regular person.
Nothing could've prepared you for this, for him. He takes the gun out of your mouth and puts it back on the nightstand. He keeps his body leaned over you, held up by his own two arms. His hair falls in front of his face, making it a bit more difficult to find your eyes. The both of you are panting heavily, and Harry smiles at your fucked out face.
Slipping a hand underneath your waist, Harry leans back and takes you with him, making you sit up straight. He unties your wrists, throwing the belt on the floor.
"Let's get you to the bathroom, hmm? Last part of the tour." He says, gently picking you up and carrying you over to his bathroom. When he puts you down, you have to hold yourself upright by holding on to the sink. Harry closes the door, giving you some privacy as you pee and check out your face in the bathroom. You wipe off the excess mascara that rests on your cheeks, smiling at the memory of what just happened.
When you get back to Harry's room, he has his boxers back on. At the sight of you, he grabs a t-shirt from the bed and hands it over to you. You put it on without question, only realizing that it is a Rolling Stones t-shirt when you catch yourself in the mirror.
"Got you some water." He points to the nightstand, and indeed, standing next to the gun there is a glass of water. You walk over to it and take a few sips, your eyes falling back on the gun.
"C'mere." Harry's voice interrupts your thoughts, and when you look up, you see that he has sat down. Crawling onto the bed, you join him.
He takes your chin in your hands, his face moving closer to you. "I want you to know that I'm not the safest guy to be around, and I understand if you want to walk away from this. But if you decide to stay, I promise I will keep you safe."
"So this is not going to be the last time that I'm gonna have to bail you out of jail?" You ask, partly joking, as you climb over him to sit on his lap.
"I'll be more careful." He responds, and his avoidance of your question gives you an answer. You nod, your face getting a bit more serious as you think about this a little bit more.
"Should I be scared?" You pout, not knowing if you would be able to handle constant fear. Harry shakes his head, a small smile on his face.
"Like you said, people are afraid of me, not necessarily the other way around." His fingertips dance around your thighs. "I'll keep it separated. And, unless for pleasure intended purposes, I won't ever use that gun around you."
You sigh. "Don't prove the people in this town right, okay? Don't be someone I have to run from."
Harry pulls you close, bringing your lips to his. It is a short and sweet kiss, one filled with the reassurance of a promise.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
taglist: @mellamolayla @natedelrey
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vindictivenerdcels · 1 month
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The entire playlist is dedicated to create future Alpha from scratch. Zach weighed less than 130 pounds before he found the playlist. Now, he's easily a 180-190 pounds blonde-haired jock with clear skin and baritone voice that can make any legs turned into jelly due to the depth of it
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The music titles are quite straightforward. Play "Bulk" longer and you will keep on bulking. If you play "Veins" then you'll get this insane definition of your thickening veins. "Blonde" or "Jet Black" helped to change hair color and this simple rock beats titled "Hard Rock" caused your dick to grow longer and fatter the more you listen to it. Despite all the changes, he's not satisfied yet, so he played the once skipped "Shred" audio and his muscle definition started to get leaner and drier. When the muscle definition in his body eventually getting toned and more visible, he smugly take the selfie of his improved physique, finally looking like the kind of guys he used to despise
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As the locker room is still pretty much empty, he decided to explore his new form with more precision and ensuring that each part of his body get the same kind of attention from his watchful eyes. He takes off his headset, put the music on blast and traced all the beautiful intricacies of this now-glorious form that belong to him.
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Unfortunately, the shuffle option means that he practically has no control of what music played next so the song titled "Freeze" that he's been skipping suddenly played, making him freeze on the spot with no way to break free. As if awaiting the unfortunate shuffling to happen, a nerd in his hoodie with this small silver remote appeared using noise-cancelling earbuds. He grinned like a maniac seeing the lone frozen blonde jock as he swiftly make his move and play the next song in the playlist titled "Obey the Authority". That will put blondie over here into malleable submission where the nerd, just like he did to the other newly-emerging jocks, asserted his authority over them as he's going to make them into his minions of devoted muscle guard
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giorno-plays-piano · 5 months
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Binary Star
Part I
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Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.
Words: 1.2k
Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?
____________
He is really going to get her this time. This is the finish line, quite literally: the graduation; his last attempt to win and emerge victorious from the very last battle between him and her. It has to be it.
If he couldn't win against her for the last time, Gojo would probably have a mental breakdown right in the middle of the ceremony. Geto standing right next to him rolls his eyes to the ceiling over his friend who's shaking from excitement and fear. Of course, Satoru wouldn't admit it even under torture, but Suguru knows better. The girl his friend has been competing with throughout high school isn't just smart: she's completely insane like Gojo and as big pain in the ass as him. Who knows, perhaps she'll really win this round. He prefers not to think of it.
Satoru searches for her in the crowd, standing on his toes despite already being a foot taller than anyone else in the hall. Is she here? This nightmarish woman who has been pushing him to give high school his all because she dared to take away his crown of the best student during their freshman year? When Satoru saw the scores, he thought he might have had a heart attack. There was no way he was no longer #1.
"That's what you get for messing around the chem lab," Shoko snorted while Satoru dumbly stared at the name of that annoying girl, always the teachers' pet, heading the list. His name was written right under hers.
What the actual fuck?! She got a better score than him? Him, the genius, with his undeniably superior IQ of 180 that he flaunted at any given time? Who did she think she was, Sheldon Cooper or something?
It got him so fired up he actually started studying.
"You're so dumb," Geto eventually said after his friend had gotten in the argument with the girl during their ethics class - again. "You know you could be making out with her now, right? She's the only person who could actually get along with your stubborn ass."
"Wha-a-at? What about you?" Immediately disregarding his question, Satoru was already pouting like a kid. "Wouldn't you date me?"
"Yeah, over my dead fucking body."
To be fair, it's not that Gojo never thought of her that way - she was pretty, even if he was never going to admit it out loud - but she was also so insufferable Gojo really couldn't focus on anything else but beating her in that game they were playing. The best score on the history exam? They both wanted it. Math test? Him and her were working on those questions as if their lives depended on it. Biology project? Satoru made sure to do the impossible, submitting something he would get a Noble prize for, and yet he still somehow managed to get the same grade as her. It was absolutely infuriating.
Why on Earth did she decide she could be better than him? He was Satoru Gojo, after all. The one and only son of Gojo family, who was not only embarrassingly rich but also fucking smart - his parents used to flaunt his talents throughout his whole childhood and continued doing it well into adulthood. He couldn't tell them he was no longer #1. What would his mother say? Dear God, it was hard to imagine what would happen to his father of he learned some random girl got a better grade for that English paper than him. It was, at the very least, unbecoming of Satoru.
But she was unrelenting, irritated with his status of the school genius, and ready to fight him on every occasion. Satoru had no idea what could piss her off so much - in the end, he was the most charming guy around, wasn't he? - but there wasn't a day she'd let him have his way. She was brave, persistent, and knowledgeable, and he hated her very much.
The fact that Shoko and Suguru were asking him to please get together with her and stop antagonizing the whole school only riled up Gojo even more. As if he was going to date that nerd!
When he learned she'd be running for the valedictorian, it was the last drop. No fucking way. She couldn't take it away from him - even if he had never actually cared about being a valedictorian.
If his friends had thought he was obessessing over her, now they realized Satoru went completely nuts. He started studying so much he barely slept: it was a given, considering the bags under his eyes were making his skinny ass look like a starving raccoon. Geto couldn't drag gim out even in between lessons because Satoru was immediately burying his head in the books.
It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?
Pfft, of course she won't. She'll probably stab him in the parking lot once he tries to get into his car.
But when the headmaster finally announces the results, and his, Satoru Gojo's, name is called, he no longer sees her in the crowd, and the sweet taste of victory suddenly turns to ashes in his mouth.
Where is she? She couldn't have known it would be him. To be frank, he didn't either. How could she leave right before the results were announced?
He gives his speech with a stupid smile plastered all over his face, but his mood has already soured. She had to be there to hear he was named this year's valedictorian! What face did she make? Did she leave right after she heard it wasn't her? Did she cry? Did she run away because she couldn't take it? Wasn't she going to say to him anything at all?
How could she just... vanish?
He doesn't know why he expected her to be the bigger person and come tell him he did great, but he truly did. Suddenly, he realizes he wants her to look him in the face and say he is good enough.
Did he need to be the bigger person, perhaps? But, wait, isn't he a bigger person by default because he's the winner, he wondered. The winner is always the bigger person if he doesn't rub loser's face in the dirt, right?
In the end, he couldn't even enjoy the victory he had been craving for so long.
"She had something urgent come up," Shoko says later in the restaurant, making a tsk-ing sound while Gojo listens to her with a frown on his face. "Something about her family."
Something about her family? What could be as important as the announcement of valedictorian?
"Are you dumb?" With a sigh, Suguru cocks his head to the side. "Plenty of things are more important than this valedictorian crap."
Maybe to somebody else, but not to her, Satoru thinks. Beating him has always been the only thing on her mind, and nothing could have changed that.
__________
He will be mulling over it for a long, long time once he realizes she did not follow him to Harvard despite her scholarship.
Part II
Tags: @minshookie29
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mattzerella-sticks · 1 month
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Y'know what would be a good storyline coming out of Bruce taking on the mantle of Nightwing (briefly)?
If he enjoys it a little too much.
Nightwing is freedom. Nightwing is light. Nightwing is fighting bad guys while smiling laughing throwing out a funny quip.
Things he never gets to do as Batman.
So what if, after things have settled in Bludhaven and Absolute Power has come and gone, Bruce decides to make a short visit and help out again.
As Nightwing.
"People are used to seeing Nightwing in Bludhaven. It makes more sense for there to be 2 Nightwings than for Batman to be here," Bruce argues. "Besides, this will only help you. Make it seem like Nightwing can be there at any moment."
And Dick relents. For now.
Barbara finds it strange (as does Dick) but he waves off her concerns with, "it's just an appearance here and there. Besides, I've never seen him so happy."
Except the odd appearance "here and there" starts to become a consistent thing. And it reaches an apex when Bruce diverts an emergency call from the Titans and makes an appearance in Nightwing's stead and hangs out with them afterwards (they are a little put off by the total 180 in Batman's personality but don't tell him to leave).
I think Dick stages intervention one telling Bruce he has to go back to Gotham and stop being Nightwing because Dick is Nightwing and Bruce is Batman.
"Maybe I don't want to be Batman?"
And the issue ends with Batman renouncing Batman. Saying that if Dick thinks there needs to be a Batman, he should take up the mantle. It wouldn't be the first time. Which leaves Dick speechless.
The next issue picks up in Gotham with Damian fighting crime, getting ganged up on, when Batman descends and helps him out. Except this Batman is Dick.
They debrief and we also get an update on what's been going on with Gotham in the weeks, perhaps months, of Bruce being in Bludhaven and how the rest of the Batfamily are picking up the slack in his absence. We also see Dick picking the Batfamily's brains about what to do about Bruce, if anything should be done about Bruce.
It takes a conversation with licensed medical professional Harley Quinn to give Dick insight into what's going on with Bruce ("trying to feel young again") and how to shock him out of it ("Bats is a stubborn guy. Even if all of you kids gathered around and said how this was affecting you, he'd say that you weren't seeing the bigger picture or whatever other excuse he can think of. What you need to do is goad him into giving up Nightwing and going back to being Batman.")
So Dick corners Bruce one day in Bludhaven and presents a challenge. Rooftop race across the city. First one to finish is Nightwing. The loser is Batman. Bruce, drunk off playing Nightwing, cocky, agrees.
Cue the night of the race Dick and Bruce, both dressed as Nightwing, stand on the rooftop with Barbara between them. She drops the flag and they're off.
It starts with Bruce in the lead, it's been a while since Dick has run these rooftops, but as the race progresses Dick slowly takes the lead as Bruce's stamina wanes.
It also doesn't help that Dick has been chatting the entire time. First nonsensically which Bruce tries to keep up with as well, but as it goes on it's deliberate strikes at the reasons why Bruce is clinging to Nightwing and, in his exhaustion, in his still existing in the 'Nightwing' persona, Bruce actually engages in the dialogue Dick creates between them and the rapport is strong.
Dick gets Bruce to admit how Dick is the kind of person he wants to be and that he thought it was Batman holding him back, and if he dropped Batman he could be the kind of person worthy of having the family he does now.
Dick tells him that it's because of who Bruce was that Dick is the man he is now, and that Bruce has the potential to be like Dick in those regards even while being Batman.
Then Dick brings up Alfred, at the exact moment they reach the statue of Alfred in Bludhaven. A statue Bruce has been avoiding since he arrived. A statue which Dick had been leading Bruce to in the guise of their 'race'. Dick has Bruce confront Alfred and what Alfred wanted for Bruce and how it's a) things he already has and b) he's never too late to change who Batman is and can be.
Bruce takes off the mask and thanks Dick for helping him out, and they hug as the race is over. Dick has won. He is Nightwing. Bruce will go back to being Batman.
However, the night before Bruce is set to return to Gotham, he and Dick are getting ready to patrol Bludhaven together one last time, as Batman and Nightwing, when suddenly another Nightwing appears. And another. And another.
The entire Batfamily drops in wearing their own Nightwing costumes. "What?" Damian says, "we heard that all we need to do to become Nightwing is win a race. Who wouldn't jump at the chance for something that easy." And the story ends with Nightwing looking to Bruce, saying "Fine. One more time." Cut to a full page panel of Dick Grayson leading a throng of Nightwings across the Bludhaven skies.
The Midlife Crisis event is over.
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