#I’m aware he’s a troll

[slugbuglu]

I am aware he is a troll

but boy, oh boy, golly gee wiz

[starlightphil]

[trollbreak]

< thinking abt how bill and junie were, before stuff went to shit

[tanteihimerequiem]

To all who’s reading this and or aware about the situation in my country, I am sorry. I am very sorry.

[f0point5]

Lando Norris x reader Masterlist

Only rumours ‘bout my hips and thighs - News of Y/N and Lando’s budding “relationship” hits F1 news

It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got - Rumours about Lando and Y/N heat up. Meanwhile, Y/N is skeptical about Lando’s friendly overtures

You will take the long way - Y/N discusses her secret, and Lando lets out his frustrations with Max

At least I’m trying - Y/N catches up on the new season of Drive to Survive, while Lando makes another effort to befriend her

Gain the weight of you - Y/N ties up loose ends as the stage is set for the relationship to go public

You told your family for a reason - Y/N arrives in Bahrain, and the deception deepens

The jury’s out - Y/N meets more people in Lando’s life with mixed reception, and attends her first race

(They) find something to wrap (their) noose around - Lando is subject to some controversy, which means Y/N has to step in, whole fighting to stay in her comfort zone

You don’t know how nice that is…but I do - Y/N attends the race where she makes an immediate connection with Oscar, and Lando makes an ill-advised move to impress her

You don’t feel pretty, you just feel used - Y/N finds herself in high demand, much to her dismay, as she heads to Australia for the next race

I’m feeling like I don’t know you - Lando’s feelings about how Y/N is spending her time in Australia bubble over

New to town with a made up name - Y/N does a Q&A

Every time you shine, I’ll shine for you - Lando secures an amazing result at the Australian Grand Prix, while neitzens discuss his new relationship.

That old familiar body ache - Y/N is forced to get back to work, which includes seeing Lando

The rust that grew between telephones - Y/N’s campaign debuts while she and Lando are in Japan. Lando searches for answers for what happened in Monaco

It’s hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound - Y/N skips the Japanese Grand Prix and puts her job in jeopardy

Did you see the photos? No, I didn’t but thanks though - Y/N is forced to defend Lando from gossip, while her position as his girlfriend remains precarious

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you aware - Max F weighs in on Lando’s troubles, while Lando finds he and Y/N have a common interest

Lights, camera, bitch smile - Y/N puts on an impressive show at the Grand Prix. Lando’s jealousy gets the better of him, leading to a frank conversation

Don’t you worry your pretty little mind - Y/N reaches out to Lando when he is the subject of online trolling to offer support

You can’t talk to me when I’m like this - Lando wins the Miami Grand Prix, but a misstep means Y/N is not part of the celebration

I never grew up, it’s getting so old - Oscar steps in to help when Y/N and Lando aren’t speaking

[brights-place]

HAII WOULD IT BE FINE IF I ASKED FOR BOTH NSFW OR SFW HCS OF FLOYD (AFTER THE EVENTS OF TBT)?? BASICALLY THE READER REUNITES WITH FLOYD AFTER WHAT HAPPENED BECAUSE THEY HAD NO IDEA 😣

Floyd and his S/O after the events of TBT

Pairings: Floyd X Reader

Warnings: Floyd being an cutie patootie, Fluff, slight angst

A/N: NGL I WANNA MAKE THIS AS AN FULL COMIC NEHEHEH but also Yall are married

- Floyd literally had to tell the group to go to your shared pod from where you two where staying before he got taken away. He was focusing on you the whole time before he got captured it was two days before your wedding together

- “Wait! John Dory take an turn here! We need to get to my place” John Dory raised an brow the others confused but did as Floyd instructed - When they arrived to the f/c and pink pod, and floyd noticed the messed up pod broken items around the main area of the pod - Floyd had an look of worry on his face as he rushd to your bedroom brozone confused as they hear loud sobbing from the bedroom - Floyd opened the door to see an f/c troll shaking while crying on the floor holding an picture against their chest he walked over to you quickly as you turned to look up at him to see the others staring at the scene of Floyd walking over “Honey?” You stared up at him - the sadness washed away as you stood up walking towards him dropping the photo and stared up at Floyd before punching him as he sighed - The others where gonna start being overprotective as Floyd chuckled rubbing his cheek before you hugged him crying “Y-You asshole!” You sobbed into his chest “I’m sorry I’ll explain everything okay? Please don’t be mad” void looked up sniffling “How am I not mad! You left me for two months! It was two days before our wedding Floyd you think I wouldn’t be mad!” All brozone members jaws drop

- Floyd introduced you as his fiancé and future spouse while you glared up at him wiping your tears cursing Floyd out as he frowned hugging your waist.

- Bruce literally had to give Floyd tips about being an good husband since the man is married himself

- when driving back to pop village Floyd and the others explained everything to you. You sobbed more clinging to Floyd “those idiotic teenagers! They deserved to go to jail! What they did to Floyd! I should of been there to beat them up and teach them an lesson!” “Honey your scaring my brothers…” “How?” Floyd motioned towards the snapped crowbar in your hands “Oh… Sorry JD I’ll get you an new one”

- You explained to poppy about you and Floyd’s wedding before he got taken away as poppy bawled saying that it was depressing that it was just you two

- she begged to be the bridesmaid… and make you guys the best wedding

- You did get married later on but after what happened to Floyd he was more aware of his surroundings

- flinched out loud noises and makes sure to quickly grab your hand to make sure that he isn’t separated from you

- Late night random talks like always while cuddling and he would hold onto you more then he usually did after the effects of what velvet and veneer did to him.

- please soothe him with kisses and words of affirmation

- Has to be around you or hold you whenever he can to be at ease scared that if he lets go he’d be taken away from you again

- definitely developed anemia or like Ménière’s disease which is an rare inner ear condition that can affect your balance and hearing it can’t be cure but treatment can help symptoms of it.

- when he gets episodes and he loses balance you have to rush over and hold him comfort this man please!

- cries in your arms as he clings onto you for dear life whispering many apologises for making you wait for him for 2 months

- Would beg you to please understand how he didn’t mean for that to happen to him and you’d have to cry as-well holding him close telling him it’s alright.

- you moving his hair out of his face makes him melt as you pepper his face with kisses telling him he’s safe and your there.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2024 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[myfairkatiecat]

I just realized the main characters of KOTLC have to be, like, teen celebrities of a sort at Foxfire.

I’m rereading stellarlune rn and got to that one part where Jensi is like “hi, can I sit here? Is that okay? I feel like I just interrupted a ‘how to save the world this time’ conversation” and then Dex is like “yeah that’s exactly what we were talking about actually but you can sit here anyway!” So then Jensi just sits with them and they proceed to talk about troll treaties and caches and Marella’s pyrokinesis training like everything they’re saying is totally normal and he’s just sort of there.

And that gave me this weird sense that while it doesn’t get acknowledged a lot in the series because Sophie isn’t hyper-aware of the other teens (she has so much of her own drama to worry about ON TOP of having to be the hero every book) her friend group is, like, so weird and important.

Like, they’re just sitting at lunch at school, talking about Elvin politics and classified secrets that councilors erased from their brains and how Marella bribed an ancient pyrokinetic with an evil history into revealing one such secret. And meanwhile all the other kids are at lunch like “haha, so what’s up with you and him huh? Yeah lol. Oh yeah and that table over there, that’s where they talk about saving the world and a bunch of information that isn’t revealed to the public bc they only know it bc they’re going to use it to save us all and stop a war lol. They’re so weird haha. Anyway what was I saying?”

Just casually a whole lunchroom of lots of friend groups talking and everyone just casually accepts that there’s that one table in the corner where the famous kids talk about Elvin secrets and illegal or classified stuff and saving the universe. Like yeah ok that’s normal now.

[inbarfink]

So when I wrote down that Big Undertale Meta Post about how Sans probably doesn’t remember RESETs at all and why that’s cool - I got a lot of responses to the tune of ‘that’s probably canon but I’m still gonna enjoy Sans Remember fics because of the angst’. And, well... first I want to emphasize that those are very good and correct responses! Like ‘I acknowledge might or might not be in the text but I am also gonna explore alternative ideas Because I Enjoy Them’ is a Good Damn Position to have! Transformative Fandom is Transformative on purpose! Engage with the text and it’s various analyses but don’t let it chain your creativity or fun!

It’s just that… all of the people saying that they prefer Sans Remembering ‘for the Angst’ make me think that maybe folks are kinda ignoring the incredible angst potential of Sans NOT remembering.

My original post focused on how cool it is that Sans manages to be so on-top-of-things even though he doesn’t remember anything - but let’s not ignore the fact that this situation is also grim as shit.

Through some mysterious super-science or whatever, Sans has managed to discover that his timeline is being RESET and altered constantly (before the Player came along, Flowey had already managed to basically 100% the entire Underground) and he has no memory of what's going on and what exactly is being altered. 

He knows he might’ve gone through the same day over and over and over again thousand times but he’s simply not aware of it. It’s all the helplessness and lack of forward momentum of a classic timeloop and none of the benefits of memorizing occurrences or acquiring extra information. That’s exactly the thing that drove him into his depressive spiral.

That line always strikes me. It’s like… Sans suspects that without the meddling of capricious immortal time gods, he’d be a much happier and motivated person. But he doesn’t know for sure, because he can’t remember how he was in some distant ‘original timeline’. He is essentially fighting to avenge a version of himself that might not even be real.

Like, yes, it is very impressive and badass how well Sans trained himself to notice every tiny little hint that might indicate that a RESET happened - but it’s impressive because the deck is stacked so heavily against him. And it is very impressive and badass how Sans managed to turn his weaknesses into strengths during his Boss Battle - but it’s impressive because these are usually huge weaknesses. Trying to work to solve a timeloop that you can only infer is going on through context clues is quite a hopeless and desperate mission!

Another bit in the Sans fight that I often think about is his unique reaction if you kill him and then RESET to Fight him again.

With how skilled he is at reading expressions, Sans probably knows what that ‘weird expression’ means, he knows the Player killed him once before and is here to try again. And yet he still goes along with the same attack plan he has, the one he knows killed him in that previous timeline. Why? Because he doesn’t know where the flaw in his plan was exactly, he can’t even begin to guess. So he has no choice but to go along with the plan he knows did kill him, because that’s the only thing he has. 

You know, the thing about Sans, is that he always plays his cards very close to his chest. It’s very hard to tell what exactly he’s thinking. That’s probably why so many people do believe he remembers RESET. If any non-Flowey character remembered RESETs, only Sans would be remotely able to hide it so well. But for me? It makes me wonder how much of his Troll who Knows Too Much persona is a bit of an act as well. 

You know, Sans’ deduction requires some keen observational skills - does he ever second-guess his conclusions? Living on constant high-alert that something has been reversed or that someone knows something they shouldn’t requires fostering a lot of paranoia, and that can’t be healthy for him. Is he ever overcome with doubt on whatever something was really an indication of a timeline RESET or not? How does he feel when he realizes something horrible happened on a previous timeline (for example, his brother dying) but he doesn’t know about the context to feel sure that he can stop it from happening again? 

I also think about it in terms of his relationship to Papyrus in general. Sans tends to hide so many things from Papyrus, especially in timelines where the Player is particularly kill-happy...

In part it’s about his perception that Papyrus’ kindness and pacifism is born from naïveté and thus the only way to preserve it is to hide the cruelty and harshness of the world from him (Undyne also does that). But also, with the paranoia and helplessness Sans lives in every day - is it any wonder that he might believe that ignorance is bliss?

I do truly think it’s beautiful how fandom can experiment with cool non-canon ideas! There are probably so many great emotional angsty ideas tied up to Sans remembering RESETs! I just feel it’ll be a shame if people ignore just how dire and depressing Sans’ canon situation also is!

[festivalsofmargot]

Selfless {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: Follow up to Pretty Thoughts. (I tried to write in a way you could follow what’s going on without needing to read the last part though, so jump in if you’d like!) Sebastian isn’t waiting for your permission to help you with your assignments anymore. He knows what he wants, and he’s going after it. Takes place after MC meets Anne and before Seb’s final quest. Your Hogwarts house is up to you.

Word Count: ~ 1,700

Warnings: Kissing

Author’s Note: If he wanted to, he would is the fanfic lesson of the day. This one’s a bit shorter than my others, but I feel like so much more happened! I finished up this one quicker than I thought, so I’m going to be sneaky and edit here and there if I see any typos (my worst nightmare). Hope everyone’s having a good day 🙂

Songs (if interested):

Run Away to Mars - TALK

Greek Tragedy - The Wombats

Mr. Rager - Kid Cudi

The World - TeZATalks

Sebastian was lounging on a couch in the Slytherin common room, one hand behind his head, the other rubbing at his lips. He was trying to remember the feel of your mouth on his when you had kissed him in the library. He knew a memory wasn’t the most reliable thing, but he could have sworn he felt your tongue at one point. He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance remembering the part where the two of you had to pull apart because you heard Madam Scribner approaching.

He was going to try to get another kiss in after the two of you would have left the library together. But something shifted in your mood and you ran off without him. He had been confuzzled about it ever since. It couldn’t have been that he was a bad kisser, he didn’t think the two of you would have stopped if you didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

He had tried to catch you before you left the castle that morning, but you were nowhere to be found. He was learning fast that it wasn’t going to be easy making you his. He needed to step it up, because you were a slippery one. Just when he thought he had you in the palm of his hand, you were gone.

He decided to stop moping and take action. He shot up off the couch and went to find a few people who he was thankful were easier to find.

-

When Sebastian arrived back on campus, he was covered in scrapes and bruises, and he absolutely reeked of dirt and sweat. Merlin’s beard, was this what you did nearly every day? He needed to toughen up if he wanted to keep up with you. 

After going to find Poppy and Natty, he had asked them about everything they had planned on helping you with. He told them he would take over, lying and saying he had similar assignments. He built up quite the list: Horklumps that could only be found in caves filled with ginormous spiders, ashwinder eggs he had to find hiking in the rockiest of places, and even bogeys he had managed to knock out a troll for. The professors had no hesitancy throwing you in the deep end, did they?

He was almost worried he bit off more than he could chew, but he had managed to complete the list, making the fatigue he felt oddly satisfying.

Despite being aware of his untidy state, he headed towards the dining hall. He thanked his lucky stars he had made it back before dinner time ended. He needed to get food in him or he would faint.

A majority of the students were gone, having already gotten their fill. He began making his way to find a seat, enchanted bag in hand. But among the few students left in the dining hall, he caught sight of you. Luck was officially on his side that day, he didn’t think he would have found you at all that weekend. He headed your way, wanting to walk faster but the soreness in his legs wouldn’t allow him. 

He plopped the bag on the table, startling you. He didn’t wait for you to say anything and slumped down in the empty spot next to you, too tired to lift his legs over the bench. He leaned his elbows back on the table and let his head fall back.

After allowing himself a brief moment to finally do nothing but sit that day, he met your questioning gaze and he gestured to the bag with his chin. “Hope this helps.”

You squinted your eyes at him, trying to work out what he was talking about. 

“Go on. Open it.”

You grabbed the bag and peeked inside. It didn’t take long for you to realize it had a charm to fit what looked like a dozen large jars. Getting a closer look, you realized they were full of items you needed for your latest assignments.

“Sebastian...” A proud smile tugged at his lips at the pleasant surprise in your voice. He leaned his head back again, another wave of exhaustion hitting him.

“I told you I wanted to help you.”

“This is... amazing. I -...” You were at a loss for words, shaking your head in disbelief. “I owe you, Sebastian. Please, let me know how I can repay you.”

He glanced back at you, raising a brow. “What are you going on about? You don’t owe me a thing.”

Something warm and fuzzy formed in your chest. This was not the Sebastian you first met. What ever happened to the Slytherin who was so eager to have people in his debt?

“Then why would you - …?”

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” He smirked.

You looked back down into the bag, hiding the smirk of your own that formed. “Please do.”

He loosely took your hand in his. He would have grabbed it with a firmer hold if he could, but his forearms were aching too much. “You make me nervous too.”

You looked up to return his gaze and your heart fluttered. 

“I’d do anything you’d ask of me.” The way he said it while looking deep into your eyes, as if he needed you to understand he meant it, made you want to melt. He gave your hand a quick squeeze. “Please don’t run off.”

Finding your voice, you assured with a whisper, “I won’t.” You squeezed his hand back.

He smiled, relief overwhelming him. “Now that we’ve got that settled,” he gave your hand a quick kiss. Releasing it, he swung his legs over the bench to face the mouth watering platters. “I hate to ask, but could you help me get some of the food onto my plate. I think my arms are going to fall off.”

The two of you laughed and you happily obliged.

-

“Food really does taste better after a day like this.” Sebastian sighed, dreamily thinking back on how the first bite of many had made him want to cry.

“It does. I don’t know how I’ll survive when we don’t have Hogwarts cooking to come home to.” You replied as the two of you made your way to the Slytherin common room. You were going to drop him off and then head out to do your astronomy assignment. Once again, Sebastian had offered to come with, but seeing how he was practically asleep on his feet, you pleaded for him to get washed up and straight to bed.

Standing outside of the Slytherin common room, Sebastian let out a long exhale, thinking about how close to his bed he was. Oh how he wanted to collapse onto it. He looked to you. “I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”

“You will.” You smiled at him.

He smiled back and turned to make his way into the common room.

“Sebastian, wait.” You grabbed for his hand with the gentlest touch. He stopped walking and faced you again.

“Yes?”

“I know you’re tired, but...” You drifted off as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. 

Though he was exhausted, he mustered up all the energy he could to kiss you back, hoping he would catch some kind of a second wind. 

He tasted earthy and salty from the dirt and sweat that covered him. The hand that cupped your neck felt extra rough and callused then, but you didn’t care. Thinking about everything he had done for you that day, you wanted more of him. Your tongue just barely licked his bottom lip and it sent a shiver up his spine.

Truth be told, you always went a little mad when he was disheveled and sweaty like this. Whenever he needed to take off his robes and roll up his sleeves, it made you weak. He especially caught your eye after dueling matches, he would be worn out with clothes and hair disordered. You always ached to stroke his hair back into place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. He reciprocated by wrapping his arms around your lower back. He wanted to lift you off the ground but his muscles painfully screamed in protest. So he settled for just biting at your bottom lip instead, eliciting a light moan from you.

You weren’t masters of kissing yet. Still learning the ropes, the two of you could only do what felt right in the moment, be it little nips or licks here and there. Neither of you seemed to mind, however.

The echoing sounds of students chattering and making their way down the stairs stopped your kiss. He sighed into your neck, still holding you close. “We need to find better places to do this.” And with one final kiss to your jaw he pulled away.

“Probably for the best, you need to get some rest.” You told him, straightening your shirt.

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” His eyelids were heavy, and you thought it was the most precious you’d ever seen him. 

“You’re adorable.” You told him with a cheeky smile you couldn’t hide.

“Oh, please never call me that again.” He rubbed roughly at his eyes, too sleepy to be that annoyed with your words.

You took subtle glances to see if anyone around you was looking your way. When you felt you were in the clear, you snuck a peck to his cheek, surprising him. “See you at breakfast.” And off you went.

He watched after you. You gave him quite the reward for his actions that day, he ought to do stuff like this more often.

Someone behind him gagged. “My word!” Sebastian, startled, turned to see Ominis with a face contorted in pure disgust. “You smell putrid!”

Sebastian could only nod in agreement. “I’m aware. Now, help me into the common room, will you? I think I’m about to collapse.”

Ominis scoffed “I am going nowhere near you.” He began towards the common room without him.

“Ominis, please, I’m not joking.”

[dotthings]

Congrats to the fans of the wee woo show. I don’t go here but it makes me happy to witness how this arc for Evan Buckley got to bloom and I’m happy because I hope this reflects another shift in the TV industry.

For some media commentary context for you: ABC network is owned by Disney. Fox network was owned by Rupert Murdoch. So I can see how the network change for 911 can easily be a factor on how this got greenlit, after years of creator Tim Minear’s intention to work in hints, on the off chance he could take it there. (I don’t go here, but I did my reading). Oliver Stark who plays Buck also revealed he's been for it and couldn't say anything, until he was sure they could do it, until it aired and was out there. (*steeples fingers*)

For further context, Bob Iger—with George Lucas’ vocal support—just fended off a right wing coup on the Disney board from the kinds of people (like Peltz) who complain “why do we need so many female leads” “why do we need movies with all Black leads.” While it doesn’t mean Disney is no longer an evil megacorp, I’m pointing out that its CEO defended inclusive Disney brand content to the shareholders and the board, as well as dismantling the idea that it can’t be entertainment while being diverse.

The ripple of this goes outside of the wee woo show fandom. I’m seeing the joy on my dash from people who don’t watch the show or don’t watch it regularly, as well as from people who have been watching a long time and noticed things and realized there was a progression and it was there all along, and I know how much this must mean to a lot of people. With the world being how it is, with what people are facing inside the US from the far right, in their real lives.

It’s very hopeful in general for inclusion levels on a major network TV show, owned by a big evil megacorp. Representation matters.

Also I'm aware the wee woo show already had a queer couple, plus it's already an intersectional inclusive series, that’s great.

There shouldn't be limits placed on inclusion though. “But you already have X” shouldn't be weaponized to tell people to shut up. There is no “enough” or “too much” when it comes to inclusion. While I'm not for undermining the inclusion that's there, I've seen that weaponization used with a series that hasn't been great on inclusion, and I've seen that weaponization used for 911, which is. It's a sus argument.

Indirect and unintentional as it is, also bi Buck shut down every concern troll, every gaslight, every denial, every rationale I've ever seen people deploy against bi Dean. Everything from people who don’t understand what bi actual means—“but he likes girls so he can’t be bi”—to “but he wasn’t declared bi from the start of the show so he can’t”—yes he can and the wee woo show just did. On one of the original big three networks. Or people who say it would "ruin the character." Really? “But he’s an action hero”—so what? Evan Buckley is a hero, Dean is a hero, both badass action heroes. “People who see this as canon are delusional”—Evan Buckley went O RLY? Not so delusional now, is it.

Evan Buckley avenged bi Dean.

It’s self-evident. It’s right there. Different show, different network, but the concepts are familiar, the situation has a certain familiarity. This turn of events on an ABC show didn't just make bi Dean fans valid. bi Dean fans were always valid, the bi Dean reading was always valid. But I appreciate how much what happened on the wee woo show bonked people with a truth stick, about self discovery, character arcing, queer readings, queer coding, and the validity of merely noticing things.

[bluntsandcigs]

ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

“𝐈’𝐦 breaking up with you”

Your boyfriend, for better or worse, was the love of your life and it was a fact that you sometimes lamented in moments when he was being especially insufferable. While certainly not without his good qualities, he had a list a mile long full of traits which often made you want to lob a pillow at his head, regardless of his Infinity. His tendency to be the world’s greatest troll was very high on the aforementioned list and he wielded his devious side with all the wicked glee of a well-seasoned trickster. You supposed being his girlfriend and thus someone he was exceedingly fond of meant you probably got off easy where his pranks were concerned. You’d met the likes of Utahime and Kento on occasion and both seemed perpetually prepared to kill him with lethal stares alone. You, on the other hand, despite often putting up with his nonsense were lucky enough to also be on the receiving side of his best side. With you he was thoughtful, funny, incredibly charming, and intensely dedicated to ensuring that you were constantly having the best sex of your life.

You loved him deeply and dearly.

But, you were also debating throwing him right out of your apartment in what little he was wearing.

Despite your claim that you were leaving him, Gojo’s smug grin remained steadfast and he made not even the slightest attempt to waylay your obvious annoyance with some of the sweeter playfulness you adored. He appeared to be delighted by the deadpanned irritation in your voice and plastered on your unsmiling face, his objective to vex you succeeding spectacularly. Glancing to your left, towards the small shelf of decorative knickknacks you kept there, you debated grabbing the first plush toy you could get your hands on just to chuck it right at him. Unfortunately, Gojo knew you too well and he tutted in response to your obvious considerations.

“Now, now, you can’t possibly be mad at me, can you? I’m only giving you what you said you wanted.”

“This is so not what I meant.”

Gojo, despite coming off as regularly lackadaisical missed very little and he’d been damn well privy to every single instance over the past year where you’d mused over your desire for a cat. Your love of animals, particularly those prone to purring and pouncing, was no big secret. The countless cat videos you’d cooed over and feline plush dolls that decorated your bedroom broadcast your love of the whiskered creatures just as clearly as your words did. He knew, damn well, that you’d been growing more and more keen on the idea of adopting a sweet little kitty of your very own. When he’d responded to your last remark towards future pet ownership with a grin and a none-too-covert comment that you might soon find yourself with a surprise over the next few days, you’d been giddy with anticipation. When he’d go through with it and what sort of cat he’d adopt in ‘secret’ had kept you on gleeful pins and needles for close to a week.

Now, as you stared at your almost naked boyfriend where he’d perched himself on your bed, you wished you hadn’t dedicated a single iota towards being excited.

“You said you wanted a cat, didn’t you? I thought this was what you meant.”

Glowering and well aware that he was feigning obvious ignorance, the fucking troll, you watched as Gojo adjusted his sultry pose for one that had his ass arching up for a better glimpse of the cat tail attached to the back of his underwear. It and the ears he’d fastened to his head with a well-placed headband were as black as you’d suddenly decided his soul was.

“Come on, babe. I had to give my girl the best of the best and you can’t deny that there’s no cuter kitty out there than yours truly.”

His grin stretched wider still and he made a sound deceptively close to an actual purr, the noise nearer to seduction than adoring affection. You were resolved to be unmoved by what you knew was an attempt to turn you on, turning towards the doorway which would lead you back into the living room.

“If I leave now I can probably get to an animal shelter before it closes.”

“Aw, you’re really leaving?”

He sounded genuinely pouty and disappointed and you were resolute about not caring in the slightest.

“Would I have been more convincing if I’d gone the tail butt plug route instead?”

The comment almost stalled you, because damn if that particular idea didn’t boast some level of promise, but you refused to be moved. At least not so easily. You took a step and stilled before you could take another, Gojo at your back so lightning fast you hadn’t even registered his movements until you felt the rush of air which signified them. He wrapped his arms solidly around your waist, nuzzling his face against the curve of your neck with an almost comical mimic of a cat’s meow. It would’ve maybe be a little cute if it wasn’t so infuriating, but it was definitely amusing and you bit back a tiny chortle of laughter with all the willpower you could muster. If he was going to be a goddamn menace then you weren’t about to make things easy for him.

“You don’t think I make a good kitty?”

“No. You make a good clown, though. Truly world-class on that front.”

“Ouch! I can’t believe my mistress is so cruel! Especially when I was so ready to give her all the cuddles!”

Anyone else probably would’ve been embarrassed to act so cutesy and forlorn, playing up the role of disappointed house pet, but shame was one trait Gojo had never gotten any real hang of. The man had enough cockiness to walk totally starkers through Roppongi without so much of a chance of blushing, so acting ridiculous behind closed doors was well within his comfort wheelhouse. Sometimes you wished you had even a drop of that kind of unflappable confidence.

“I doubt your type of cuddles is the kind I was hoping for, Satoru,” you grumbled, waiting patiently for him to just let the damn joke die already.

“Oh?”

You knew he was grinning even with the lack of seeing it, the wide spread of annoyingly kissable lips sure to be revealing those perfectly pearly whites of his. You felt teeth grazing your neck, a subtle scrap that settled into the tiniest nip where your pulse throbbed with a quiet drumming beneath your skin. His long fingers stretched and spread across your hips, pinkie fingers curling around the front belt loops of your jeans.

“What if I was gonna give you whatever cuddles you wanted? However you wanted them? What about that then, hmmm? Would that make me a good kitty? Would it make you wanna keep me?”

Gojo’s hips shimmied from side to side and you weren’t entirely positive if it was his attempt at making his tail sway or a not even remotely subtle effort to grind his cock against your ass. Knowing him, it had to be a little bit of both and feeling how hard he already was, as if he’d been eagerly anticipating the satisfaction of his cat boy fantasies, made it harder to deny him out of spite. You were annoyed for sure and never very keen to give him precisely what he wanted when he was being a pain in the ass, but Gojo was also stupidly good at making you cum. His talents in the bedroom were almost ludicrous in their effectiveness and if he was exceptionally game to give you precisely what you wanted, at least in a sexual respect, it wasn’t exactly easy to refute the possibilities.

He rumbled out another mockery of a purr and dragged his tongue across the sensitive skin of your neck, wet and smooth instead of at all scratchy like a real cat’s would have been. Perfect for making you feel good and curse your weak resolve, but you already felt wet just from thinking about how satisfied you’d be in the next few minutes if you relented.

“If you let me, I can eat your pussy so good you probably won’t even be mad at me anymore.”

“Wouldn’t eating my pussy technically count as some kind of cannibalism right now?” you asked him ruefully and you were rewarded with a delighted snicker in response, Gojo’s arms hugging you tighter.

“Oh, this kitty right here is keeping you. All mine. Can’t get rid of me no matter how bad you try.”

It gave you butterflies every time he said things like that, made little comments to suggest that for all his flightiness and reputation for being a player, he wanted to try for something more permanent with you. He may have been playing and playful, his default setting most days it seemed, but the words made your heart soar even so. The annoyance you felt from discovering his devious little prank hadn’t exactly fled in the wake of your affection, but it was tempered by it to some extent. If you were giving in to his hopes, you were giving in to them exactly the way you wanted and you weren’t about to let your obnoxious cat boy get away with his mischief entirely.

You shifted and turned, moving around in the cradle of Gojo’s arms to face him, mirroring the wicked glee on his face as your hand sandwiched itself in the space between your body and his. His brows shot up high, the shades he wore shifting down the slope of his nose just enough to give you a hint of the mesmerizing blue behind them. However, he looked quite pleased by the feel of your fingers squeezing around his cock. He was warm, even through the material of his underwear, and it was all too easy to map out the exact shape of his length with the cloth barrier in your way. You tried not to shiver just from feeling him, well-versed in how thick and long he was, the fullness that came with his erection sliding home inside your body an aching feeling you welcomed once you’d gotten used to it. That sensation was as dear to you as how honest Gojo’s reactions always were, nothing of his pleasure ever restrained or held back and it was as true in that moment as it had been since your first time together. Gojo’s smile grew wider and he let out a truly arousing groan as your palm rubbed against his shaft, fingers promising more.

“That can’t be all. Come on now,” you cooed, stealing a kiss from his lips and tasting the strawberry flavor of his chapstick. “Be a good kitty and let me know how good this feels.”

The band of his underwear stretched against the back of your wrist once you pressed your hand inside, fingers wrapped in a tight fist just beneath the tip of his cock, already leaking for you. It pleased you to feel his precum there, provided the slightest bit of slickness to help you roll your hand down his erection all the way to the base and lower, cupping his sac with a gentle squeeze that had Satoru’s hips bucking. The pressure made his dick weep further, smoothing out your strokes and providing you with what you needed to pump your hand over him in slippery glides he so clearly loved. Satoru mumbled your name, the smugness of his countenance wavering before the mounting pleasure. Those beautiful blue eyes of his fluttered closed, snowy lashes close to his cheeks, and seeing his mouth drop open for every sound of sensual delight was an utter joy. You loved it when you had him right where you wanted him, when just the feel of your hands coming together to work his shaft could make his thighs tremble. Your boyfriend may have been an incorrigible mischief maker who did so love to turn you into a soaking mess, but he could sometimes be so desperate for your touch.

Eager and greedy and all for you.

You needed more.

“Noooo!”

He outright whined when your hands left his dick, the length of it visibly throbbing with his yearning. His neediness was adorable with those cute little cat ears on his head and inwardly you considered how much better he’d look with the additional of a little bell collar, wondering if he might be into that in the future. Knowing Satoru and his never-failing interest in all sorts of sexual experimentation, he likely would’ve been thrilled by the idea.

“Don’t pout.”

You tried to kiss the look off his face, but it remained, Satoru steadfast and resolute to look as adorably put off as he could. When your fingers moved from his body to your own, tugging the shirt off your body with a notable urgency, his expression swiftly morphed into one that was greatly intrigued. Dissatisfaction was replaced with delight as his eyes raked so longingly over your half-naked frame, tongue working across his lips like someone had waved his favorite snack before his face the second your bra hit the floor. Teeth clamped down lightly on soft lips, Satoru shimmying his hips to sway his little tail as if to suggest that the sight of you briefly rubbing your nipples might be enough to make him pounce.

Like you were a mouse, his chosen prey.

You were no such thing and you lightly pushed at his chest to make him back away, give you room to lower your body down onto your knees. You pinched your nipples, peaks tight and providing the softest zing of pleasure through your breasts, smirking as you angled your chest towards him. His eyes widened and his smile was one of unadulterated excitement, a shaky exhale marking his happiness as his cock settled against the valley between your breasts. His hips moved, hands bracing against the wall behind you so he could thrust his slick erection through the soft crevice you’d provided him, his gaze enraptured by the view. He was long, just long enough that you could bend your head to tease the tip of his dick each time it drifted upwards, a thick weight nestled between the softness of your tits. The taste of him was warm and a little salty on your tongue, but you always found yourself wanting more, relishing each chance to caress the smooth head of his cock with a hurried swirl of your tongue.

“Feels so fucking good. Your pretty tits and that sweet little tongue on my cock. Can never get enough of this.”

“Wanna keep going then, Satoru? Wanna keep going until you’ve got my chest all covered in your cum?”

His hips shuddered, briefly angling towards a few faster thrusts through the warm cradle of your breasts. Gojo’s head shook, shades going further askew upon his face until he finally tossed them aside, unconcerned with anything other than his pleasure to care if they ended up broken on the floor. It was you that he treated with more care, freeing himself from the building ecstasy you’d been giving him to lift you into his arms, transporting you to the cushioned softness of your bed in seconds. He moved so fast you felt temporarily dizzy, but not so terribly that you missed how desperately he removed your jeans and panties, stripping you in a panting frenzy of need. It didn’t feel as if anything had been torn, no sounds of ripped denim stitching reaching your ears, but you knew that he could’ve destroyed your remaining clothing with ease had he wanted to. Gojo rather liked proving how easily he could rend fabric of all types from your frame and he’d been a fan of making buttons fly until you’d start grousing about having to mend or buy new clothes whenever the two of you felt horny. His restraint in that respect was surprising given how eager he happened to be. Gojo didn’t often put so swift a stop to foreplay, especially not whenever you had his cock nestled so pretty between your tits. He must have been waiting for you to come home for even longer than you’d anticipated for him to be so excessively keyed up.

“Impatient, are we, kitty?” you asked him, trying with your all not to sound breathless in your own state of anticipatory need.

“Say that like your cunt isn’t all juicy and ready for me.”

A gaze painted even clearer than sky blue roved with heated, covetous delight over the glistening wet of your pussy, lips pulled towards smug as he held your legs aloft, apart. Denying that you were exceedingly turned on would’ve been a bold-faced lie with the proof that you were lusting hard for your boyfriend right there before his eyes. It couldn’t stop you shrugging your shoulders, lifting your arms up above your head to present a picture of relaxation as well as readiness, fixing him with a smirk that beamed pride. Gojo’s plan could have been to seduce you all along, at least after he’d finished being a Special Grade pest yet he’d been just as seduced himself. He may have had all his ideas lined up like dominoes ready to be knocked down in a precise order, but his cock was flushed and hard where it came to rest against your folds. The tip still leaked with the evidence of how overcome he was by his need to have you, drips of heated precum dotting the top of your pubic mound with just one throb from his erection. Whatever Gojo’s exact intentions must have been had flown entirely out the window and he was clearly as impatient to cum as you were. He was the world’s strongest sorcerer, but making him ache to have you without having to really try made you feel pretty damn powerful yourself. After how much he’d irked you a few minutes ago, you were rather grateful for the ego stroking.

“You want me just as bad.”

“Then do something about it.”

You presented your dare with a squeeze of your hand around the head of his cock, a warm grasp that he thrust his length towards and the gliding motion had his thickness sliding perfectly across your clit. Smile wavering with a moan, Gojo tugged your hand away from his dick and brought your palm to his mouth, kissing lightly and dragging his tongue over the light taste of himself on your skin. When he lowered your hand, it was to rest it beside its twin against the sheets, his eyes darting towards the sight of your fingers clutching tight to the bedding once he pressed your legs together. Your thighs formed a tight haven for his shaft, different and sweeter than fucking your tits because the added softness of your pussy was right there underneath. Sodden folds, swollen from the craving for him, rubbing along the underside of his cock to coat it in further slickness and it made the process of fucking his erection along your clit so much easier. It wasn’t the same as being inside you, as having him stretching you open until you swore you felt him touching deeper than anyone ever had, but it may as well have been heaven regardless.

“Satoru, that feels so good..”

“Feels so much better than good to me, baby,” Gojo huffed, barely holding on to his smile as he rolled his hips with a mix of mounting, pleasured desperation and controlled precision. “Don’t even have to be inside you to make us both feel good. Can make you cum so hard just from doing this.”

He was right, truthful, and you could feel how every stroke of his smooth cockhead brushing across your bud was pushing you towards a mounting bliss that would have the thighs pressed around his cock shaking in no time flat. He felt so hard and hot against you, the wet of your cunt audibly slickening his flesh further until the sound was deliciously close to the familiar cacophony that filled your bedroom whenever he was inside you. It was wonderful yet excruciating, fulfilling your needs while leaving you anxious for more, aware of the empty feeling inside you. Gojo would never leave you unsatisfied, because he never had, but the longer he thrust his way between your thighs, the deeper your wants became.

“You can. I know you can. But, fuck, Satoru, it’d be so good if you were inside me. Even better than this.”

Gojo’s groan said he knew, that he remembered how tight you were and how perfectly the squeeze of your inner walls always milked him dry. He seemed to struggle for a moment with keeping his eyes open, crystalline hue half-hidden by lowered lids as he stared down at the repeated peek of his cockhead questing forward through the crevice of your thighs. You glanced down to see it too, trembling with pleasure as you watched his tip rub and grind against your clit, bucking your hips up to ensure the pressure intensified. You moaned and it was a weak sound, an orgasm threatening to tear its way through you before long, leading your fingers from the sheets to your own chest, pinching your nipples. Gojo’s hips stuttered from the sight, his hooded glance drawn up your body and higher, locking on your face.

“Later,” he promised you finally, tone throaty and strained as groans pitched into near whines. “I’ll be inside you for as long as you want later. But..”

He smirked, like a devil with the face of an angel, dressed up in the cheap cat costume which had started it all.

“Kitty’s gotta mark you now.”

It should’ve made you cringe or laugh. It probably could have had you doing both at the same time, cheesy as the comment was. Especially with his eager thrusts shaking the cat ears on his head until the band holding them in place looked poised to fall right off. You just didn’t have it in you to care about the silliness or anything beyond the fact that he was making you cum, your throbbing clit and the unrelenting drag of his cock across it pulling an orgasm through your core before you could truly even prepare for the fall. Gojo didn’t have to be nestled deep to feel your climax overtaking you, seeing it before him in the sharp arch of your back and the kneading of your hands across your breasts hurriedly moving back to the sheets. You kept your eyes open in the thick of it, gazing up at your lover as he watched you come undone with parted lips, seeming hypnotized by the visage of your release before him. He didn’t blink, an almost ethereal vision made human by the way his own control faltered, broken and splintered by his own fall to ruin. Gojo’s cock pulsed against your puffy cunt and he cried out his satisfaction as it spilled across your belly and chest, haphazard lines as white as his hair marking your sweaty skin.

He turned his head, pressing his teeth into the side of one of your calves just hard enough to leave a mark, but it was difficult to even mind any hurt there could have been while the two of you came together. Sensations too good to be real burrowed beneath your skin, carried through the pit of your being to every part of it, and you let the ebb and flow persist for as long as it must, savoring the wonder of being brought to the edge so easily. It was always a marvel to you in the aftermath, as your latest orgasm slowly found its way towards softening, how successfully Gojo could please you and how much it could leave you craving more. Your body still shook, your pussy intensely soaked from how hard you’d just cum, but the aching he inspired in you lingered deep where you wanted him to be, almost enough to make you forget that you’d initially been cross with him.

Curse him and his magic dick and his stupidly pretty, wonderful face.

God, you were so in love with him.

The feeling appeared to be very mutual, broadcast like a song across airwaves and carried to you through the look he gave you once the messy pulsing of his spend finally halted. Gojo peered down at you with a smile, less smug and more sweet than you expected he would’ve easily let others see on him. He looked close to swooning, though he may have just been a little fuck drunk from his orgasm, yet you could see past the post-sex daze to glimpse the more that was written in those eyes of his. You weren’t always sure of it, battling with the perceptions of his reputation and your own insecurities, but the softness of how he looked at you was there, as sweet as the way he kissed you when he lowered your legs to lean down. Gojo stole as many kisses as he pleased, each one slow and savoring, lasting until he saw fit to nuzzle his face against your neck with a mimicked purr that had you hugging him with legs and arms alike. You petted the cat ears off his head, grazing your nails through snowy white locks to make him repeat the noise a second time. When it had you giggling, a sound he claimed numerous times to be his favorite, Gojo lifted his head to grin at you and he looked pleased with himself, victorious in a way that would’ve made you pinch him had you not felt so good just then.

“So, are you gonna keep me?”

“Hmmm..I dunno..”

“Seriously?! I made you cum in less than five minutes! That’s gotta be worthy of a forever home!”

“Yeah, maybe, but as far as pets go, you’re kind of a messy one, Satoru. I mean, just look.”

You gestured towards your chest with a hand, reminding him of the spill of cum he’d gotten all across your bare breasts and stomach, as well as his own now. Gojo looked temporarily pleased and more than a little aroused by the sight of his so recent release painting your body, but he let the delight fade into a mask of determination. He hopped off the bed, tucking himself back into his underwear, and he marched out of your bedroom with a purposeful stride that seemed less serious than he may have meant it to when he whistled along the way. The whiplash of his strange, mercurial moods had your head shaking, though not without affection, and you climbed off the bed to give your still tingling body a good stretch, heading towards your dresser for some pajamas to change into in the near future. Quite possibly after Gojo had fucked your brains out the way you were anticipating that he soon would.

The motions of your feet carrying you across the room stopped at the strange sounds you heard just beyond the open door, straining your ears to listen. Nearby in the bathroom, you could hear Gojo making shushing noises, talking in a low whisper you could catch without being quite able to discern the exact words he was saying. You looked around the room, spying his cellphone nestled atop your table along with his usual clothing. Who was he talking to?

When he returned to you, moistened washrag in hand, you noticed how he seemed to pointedly avoid your gaze while he set to work cleaning his cum from your body. The whistling which had gone with him out the room resumed, a little louder and appearing far more like a distraction than it should have.

“If you’re hiding another prank or something, I am officially going to cockblock you for the rest of the night. I mean it.”

“You’re an awfully suspicious woman.”

“I’m dating the trolliest troll to ever troll. I think I’m well within my right to be suspicious of whatever shenanigans you’ve got up your sleeve. So, come on. No more surprises, Satoru. What was with the whispering in the other room?”

Withholding his answer until he could finally see your brow beginning to pinch, waiting for the reaction of near annoyance he’d been hoping for like the wicked little shit he was, Gojo tossed the washrag into your dirty clothes hamper and strode out of the room again. Left standing there, questions unanswered, you fought not to simply follow him or start rubbing your temples, electing to just wait for whatever was coming next. Knowing Gojo, it could’ve been anything. Ferreting through drawers for something to change into since the possibility of further mischief had cooled your lingering arousal, you tugged on a long t-shirt as soon as you got your hands on one, rooting further to find a fresh pair of panties.

Gojo cleared his throat from the doorway, halting your quest prematurely, and the frustrated look on your face was gone the second you saw what he had held so gently in his large hands.

“Oh.”

“Yep,” he replied, massive smile beaming, happily smug from your shocked reaction. “Not what you were expecting at all, was it?”

He stroked one long finger underneath a tiny chin, the fluffy kitten in his hands purring from the attention and staring at you with the biggest blue eyes you’d ever seen, aside from your boyfriend’s. It looked like Gojo was cradling a living, breathing powder puff and you felt your heart threatening to absolutely burst at the view of such a precious creature just within reach. You wanted to ask him where and when he’d managed to find such a gorgeous cat, but your emotions were threatening to get the better of you, questions hard to manage when you were so happy.

“Satoru.”

“Hey, baby, don’t cry. This was suppose to be a good surprise. I mean, obviously not as good as me being dressed up all sexy, but still good, right?”

Gojo took a step forward and he extended his fuzzy surprise out to you in the clear hope that holding the kitten would make you smile again. You grinning through the tiny spill of tears that made your vision glossy and gingerly brought the tiny fur baby to your chest, trying not to squeal at how readily the kitty leaned into the cheek scritches you gave.

“No, it’s a really good surprise, Satoru. A happy cry kind of surprise, I promise.”

“Oh. Whew. Okay. That’s a relief. I don’t know what I’d have done if you suddenly decided to reject Satoru the Second.”

Purrs rumbled sweetly against your chest, a sound and sensation you’d been hoping to have in your life for months. It comforted you, elated you, and those feelings couldn’t be beaten by anything, not even the absurdity of the name your boyfriend had chosen.

“We’re definitely not naming him that.”

“We have to, though! He looks just like me! It only makes sense to name him after me!”

“Nope. Definitely not. I veto.”

“We could call him ‘Toru for short?”

“What about something cute? Like Pancake?”

“Okay, maybe you’re onto something, but if we’re going with naming him after something sweet, it at least ought to match how he looks. What about Mochi? Or Marshmallow?”

Gojo came closer, rambling off a list of dessert related names he felt might be suited to the ball of pure fluff that seemed completely content in your hands, like he knew he’d found his forever home with the two weird humans that surrounded him. Your boyfriend started petting the kitten’s head, showing his own immediate affection for the pet he’d been planning to gift you all along.

He may have taken a very roundabout way of revealing what he’d done for you, but in truth his methods hadn’t been all that bad. Gojo could be a menace in the best and worst ways. That much was a fact known to anybody who associated with him.

To you, however, he was the sweetest nuisance.

Silly cat boy costumes and all.

[vivianthepigeon]

Batfam as quotes from my life (with little to no context) pt 6?

Jason: “It’s called boob, that’s hilarious.”

Tim: “I sucked it, easy!”

Cass: “He adopted me.”

Steph: “No he didn’t, he just told the police you were his kid”

Damian: “No offense but my dad makes more money than yours.”

Dick: “Hello? Child protective services? My dad said he doesn’t love us”

Bruce: “You all think you’re so important.”

Tim: “Ignorance is not bliss, ignorance is…danger”

Dick: “I’m aware he’s a troll but boy oh boy golly gee whiz!”

[seeingivy]

meeting the parents 

roommate eren x f!reader 

you swear you know the family sitting next to you at eren’s soccer game, you’re just not sure from where

**find mini-series masterlist here

an: ty for all the love on roommate eren!!!! this part was super super rushed and not AS proofread lol but I just wanted to put the idea out there to set it up for some other stuff :DDDD 

previous part linked here

- 

“Is there something I’m supposed to wear to your soccer game? I’ve never been to one before.” 

You feel Eren get up from his bed, which you were currently sprawled on. You’d spent more time in his room as of late, his bed being more comfortable to watch movies on than the couch. The night you had slept in his bed felt like it breached any sense of normal boundaries between the two of you, this was the new normal. I guess touching each others scars can do that to someone. 

In the middle of the movie he had picked out for today, which was a stupid nature documentary that was putting you to sleep, he had invited you to come to his first home game, which was on Friday. 

He was trying to convince you - telling you Annie would be there, that there are snacks, and Jean and Armin will be too since they were part of the game. You’re positive he doesn’t understand the pull he has on you, because you’d agree to anything the second he asked. 

After you agree, you can’t help but feel your heart twinge at the smile spreading across your face and you fight the urge to poke his dimples. You love his dimples. His smile lines. The softness near his eyes. You shake your head, directing your gaze back to the forest on the screen as you avoid the fluttering in your chest. 

After your question about the clothes, he nearly jumped up, rummaging through his closet to find something for you to wear. After a few minutes, he throws the shirt at you, which lands square in your face, knocking you over. You pull the shirt off your face, sticking your tongue out at him as he joins you back on the bed. 

You keep a respectable distance when you sit together on his bed, obviously. You can’t even look at him without exploding. And whenever he touches you, all you can think about is his soft, nimble fingers running across your skin in the night, touching all the parts of you that were hurt. 

But every once in a while, Eren will brush his hand against yours while reaching for his phone, fix your hair behind your ears because you ‘look like a garden troll’, and claim you have a stray eyelash on your face just to press his fingers against your cheek. 

You think it’s an excuse to touch you, that it can’t all be a mistake, but you’re also well aware that Eren can make you a little delusional. You ignore the validity of the situation all together. The less you think about his fingers on your skin, the better. 

You hold the shirt up, inspecting it. Your throat drying when you realize what it is. His jersey. 

“Eren. I can’t wear this.” 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to wear it while you’re playing?” 

“I have another one. Plus, all the girls wear jerseys to the games. Annie’s wearing Armin’s honorary jersey.” 

Annie’s not a normal girl, she’s Armin’s girlfriend. All the girlfriends wear jerseys to the game. You turn to face him, an uneasy expression pressed on your face. He rolls his eyes, his hand making its way to the top of your head. He sticks his fingers into your scalp, applying soft pressure. 

“Why are you thinking so hard? It’s just a shirt. I can find you another one if it bothers you that much.” 

He’s right. It’s just a shirt. To him anyways. It might mean something else for Annie and Armin and every other girl but for you guys, it’s just a shirt. 

You shake your head, agreeing to wear it to the game on Friday. 

 - 

The game rolls around and you’re currently seated in the stands alone. You have superstitions to thank for that. 

Armin doesn’t play in the game, but helps the coaching team strategize where to put the best players. Hence, the honorary jersey Eren mentioned earlier. Armin’s been around the sport since he was a kid and knows all the players' strengths well enough to help assist in making plays. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it - Armin’s never the one at the center of the play, but definitely the mastermind behind it. 

However, Armin claims that they can’t win unless he’s wearing a very specific pair of blue shoe laces. Eren explained that superstitions mean everything to the team, even to him. Apparently, he refuses to play if he isn’t wearing his key necklace. Because, he’ll lose without it. Armin’s the same with the shoelaces. 

Annie was currently tearing apart Armin’s apartment, trying to find the shoelaces before they could start the game in a few minutes. Which left you alone in the stands reading the book you brought to kill the time. You’re not much of a soccer or sports fan - so you had contingency plans in place. You’re just here to support your friends and because Eren asked you to come. 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling out your earphones to acknowledge the nudging. You find a tall, blonde man standing over you, gesturing if he could sit next to you. He has two other people with him, a man and a woman with dark black hair, who have to be one of the player's parents. You give them a smile, nodding your head that they could take the seats next to you. 

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” 

“Yeah, I have to read it for an assignment.” 

At the sound of his voice, you take a moment to really seep into the man’s features. He’s got blonde hair, thin circular framed glasses, and a full sported beard. If you had to guess, you would say he’s somewhere in his late twenties, just based on his looks and demeanor. You have a feeling you’ve seen him somewhere before, but you can’t really pinpoint where from.

“This is an interesting place to complete an assignment. What brings you here?” 

You shut the book closed, squinting your eyes around on the field till you find Eren running up and down the track. The game starts in a few minutes and he’s warming up before he takes his spot at the goalie stand. 

“That guy. He’s my roommate. I came to see him play.” 

The man nods, craning his neck to find who it was you were pointing at. You sit in silence, not interacting with the man or the other two people till the middle of the game. Annie still hadn’t returned, but they were surprisingly winning the game. It was neck to neck the entire time, Eren’s team barely scoring over them each time the whistle went off. 

You feel the fingers tap into your shoulder again, the blonde man staring at you. 

“I’m going to go get water from my stands for my parents. Did you want anything?” 

You can’t ignore the growling in your stomach and the dryness in your throat - you had been screaming for a better half of the last hour. You never knew sports could make you so passionate. You dig for your wallet in your pocket, pulling out way too much cash for a simple bottle of water. You reach for his hand, squeezing it twice before speaking. 

“Thank you so much, really. It’s very kind of you to ask me. If you could get me a snack, that would be great. Here’s the money for it, you can use it for your parents' water bottles too.” 

You place the bills in his hands, turning your neck back to find Eren running on the field. You feel bad, but the only thing you can focus on is him. He’s so coordinated, like a figure skater on the field. Watching him lace the ball through his feet to avoid other players taking it from him felt somewhat hypnotic - but you think that’s more about how Eren looks and is, rather than how he’s playing. 

As the blonde man turns to leave, the woman slides into his seat, leaning over to talk to you. She has golden brown eyes, which are warmly peering into yours. 

“You’re really into the game. You’ve been following it really closely.” 

“I never thought I’d enjoy it so much. This is actually my first time coming to a game.” 

“What made you decide to come today?” 

“Eren Yeager. He’s number eleven, running on the right side of the field. He’s a really good friend of mine and he asked me to come. He cares a lot about the game and I care a lot about him, so I just had to come when he asked me.” 

She presses her hand over yours, squeezing tight. You can see her eyes glimmering at your words, though you’re not entirely sure why. You can’t place it but she seems familiar too. You’re having a weird sense of deja vu from the game all together. 

“You’re a sweet girl, really.” 

You smile back, your heart tingling at her words. You’re distracted by everyone cheering at the field, craning your neck back to find Eren. You watch him sink the ball into the net, jumping to your feet at the sight of him stopping, a smile shining on his face as he watches the scoreboard turn in his favor. 

You swear you imagine the next part, but the looks everyone around you give you tells you it was real. He turns to the field, squinting till he finds you settled in the bleachers. He points to the net, signaling at the score he just made, and then points at you, a smile pressed against his face. You’re not sure what it means entirely, but what you are sure of is that his stupid smile was going to make your heart explode one day. 

 - 

Eren wins the game. Obviously. You watch his teammates lift him into the air, shuffling him to the end of the bleachers. You run down the steps, your cheeks sore from smiling so hard. You watch the players let him go and he meets your eyes, slowly walking over to meet you. 

You basically run at him, tangling your arms around his neck. He lifts you up, spinning you around for a few seconds before setting you down. You can feel his arms shaking, which you’re sure is the adrenaline from the rush of the game. 

“Ren. That was so fucking cool. You’re so cool.” 

“Yeah?” 

You can see the corners of his lips quirking up at his words, a warm look in his green eyes. 

“You’re amazing. You move so fast, I could barely keep my eyes off of you.” 

“You can’t do that anyways.” 

You smack his shoulder with the side of your arm, rolling your eyes at him. He’s not wrong. 

Before you can bite back, he looks past your shoulder, waving at someone behind you. You turn your neck to find the three people you were sitting with from before walking up, swinging their arms around Eren. 

You watch the man with blonde hair put his hand in Eren’s hair and affectionately shake his entire head, while the man and the woman envelop him in a hug. You’re thoroughly confused. 

“You know them?” 

“Do you know them, peaches?” 

“Peaches?” you hear the black haired man say, turning his eyes towards his wife and son. 

“Yeah, we were sitting together during the game.” 

He turns his neck, narrowing his eyes at the three of them.

“How did you guys know it was her?” 

“She has Yeager printed on the back of her shirt in huge letters. It wasn’t that hard to figure out she was the girl we were looking for.” 

The three of them turn to you, all of them smiling brightly. Eren pulls you closer, swinging his arm around your shoulder as he turns to face you. 

“Y/N. These are my parents, Grisha and Carla, and my brother Zeke. They really wanted to meet you and I was going to introduce you to them after the game but they had other plans.” 

You can feel the gears settling into place in your head, the deja vu feeling making sense. The picture Eren showed you when you were sick, when you became friends - it was of them. His family. You just didn’t recognize them right away because they were way younger than they are now. 

You press your hands to all of theirs, the dread filling your chest. They knew it was you the entire time and you had no idea. Is that rude? Are they going to tell Eren you said that you cared about him?

“I’m really sorry I didn’t recognize you. Eren showed me a picture and I thought I knew you guys from somewhere, but the picture he had shown you was so old.” 

“He showed you a picture of us? He basically refused to show us any of you, he’s so secretive.” Carla responds, the shock pressed on her face.

“Just threaten him. He’ll give in eventually.” 

The three of them laugh, your heart tingling at the sight of their laughter and smiles. Okay, okay. Not too bad. They don’t hate you, that’s for sure. 

“I have a feeling he only does that for you.” 

You quirk your eyes at his dad, Grisha he said, and shake your head, dismissing the comment. He’d do it for anyone. You just know how to do it. You hear Annie and Armin calling you from the other side of the field, something about taking a picture of them. 

You shake all of their hands another time, giving them your brightest smile before letting your legs drag you to where Annie and Armin were standing. 

 - 

“No grandchildren till after graduation.” 

“Mom.” 

“I get it. She’s really cute, she’s sweet, it’s probably easy when you sleep in a bed together every night. But no grandchildren.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend. And she doesn’t sleep in my bed.” 

Eren feels Zeke smack the back of his head, turning back to glare at him.

“You get stupider as time goes on. That poor girl likes you so much.” 

Eren shakes his head, looking over at you from across the field. You’re crouched on the ground, taking a picture of Annie and Armin who have their arms tangled around each other. Of course, you’re crouching on the ground to get the best angle. 

Annie’s pressing a kiss to his cheek and he ignores the fact that all he can think about is you doing that to him. 

“No, she doesn’t.” 

“She told us she cared about you. A lot. And mind you, she thought we were strangers. She wasn’t trying to impress us as your family or your loved ones, she literally was just telling us, like she’d tell any other stranger who talked to her. She likes you.” 

Eren feels his dad come behind him, pressing dollar bills into his open palm. 

“It’s her money. Make sure you return it.” 

“She offered to pay, didn’t she?” 

They all nod, confirming his suspicions as he glances back over to you. Kindness was like breathing to you and he envied, admired, and loved it about you all at once. You were so...you sometimes, it hurt him. 

Eren gives Zeke one more shove for good measure, before stalking over to the field where you’re standing. He reaches over, pressing his fingers into the side of your shoulder. You turn over, your stupid doe eyes staring into his again. 

“Need something, Ren?” 

“I want a picture with you. Ask Annie and Armin to take it.” 

He doesn’t miss how your face lights up at the request and he curses your sweet little heart for making him like you more. 

Sometimes he feels like he can’t help it, like you could breathe and he’d love you for it. The way your nose crinkles, your chest rising and falling as it fills with air, he could love anything, even a stupid physiological act, if it was you. 

You hand Annie the camera, reaching over to press yourself against him. He reaches forward, squishing your face in his hand as Annie takes the picture. You run over, snatching the phone from Annie’s hand to swipe through the pictures. You accidentally land on the picture of Annie and Armin first, Annie pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Oh my god, I thought that was us for a second Ren. Imagine.” 

But he doesn’t have to. There’s already a picture of you two like that - you pressing a kiss to his cheek - from a while back. You just don’t remember it. 

- 

next part linked here

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 3

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

Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader

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

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

You arrive early with your laptop. The meeting room appears occupied as you wait outside. You don’t knock for fear of interrupting and stand patiently in the hall.

You check your watch, the hot pink casio with the digital face. It’s getting close. You try not to worry too much. The IT tech will no doubt show up and realise what’s going on.

As you begin to build the upcoming meeting as more than it is, the door cracks open and a man pokes his head out. He wear frameless rectangular glasses and his blond hair is spiky and shiny with gel. He smiles as he lets the door fall open.

“Hey, sorry to keep you waiting, you must be our one o’clock,” he says, “I’m Jake.”

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. He welcomes you in as you ponder his words, ‘our’? As you enter, you are faced with the last person you expect. The man’s neutral stare turns to a chagrined scowl as your eyes meet. The very same moody lunch partner from the day before.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly as you sit down and place your laptop on the table.

“Curtis will be doing most of the set up,” Jake explains as he sits beside the other man, “I’m mostly here for moral support.”

“Shut up,” Curtis sneers under his breath.

“Curtis,” you beam brightly; you finally got a name for the face. You give your own happily, enunciating it as if he’s never heard it before.

“Let’s get this done with,” he reaches across the table and takes your laptop. 

You can only watch as he lifts the lid and starts typing. Jake looks over a tablet and offers a few words as Curtis fiddles around with your laptop. He’s met with grumbles and dismissive nods. They seem an odd pair.

“So, how are you liking it?” Jake turns his attention to you, “making any friends?”

“A few I think,” you glance at Curtis as his brows draw together, “pretty big company.”

“Yep, don’t let the corporate sea drown ya,” Jake says, “my tip, stick with the IT nerds, we mostly don’t care what’s going on upstairs. We’re all about the backend.”

The steady clack of keys underlines your small laugh. You’re nervous. You hate meetings and you just want to go back to your desk and pretend you’re reading policies.

“What is this?” Curtis grimaces and turns your computer to you. He points to the clock your installed on the desktop; Hello Kitty’s face with two clock hands ticking.

“It’s cute. It’s a clock! Oh, and the app also has a reminder setting–”

“Can’t have it on a work machine,” he grits.

“It’s fine, Curt. Won’t hurt–”

“This shit is from some Discord troll. Bullshit it can’t hurt,” Curtis insists, “policy; no third-party apps. Everything you need is already installed.”

“Okay,” you twirl your thumbs around each other, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

He looks at you above the laptop and squints, his lip slightly curling. Jake rubs his neck nervously and nudges him. You still your hands and bite into your cheek.

“He’s had a long day. Spilled coffee on himself,” Jake explains.

“Oh,” you round your eyes, looking at the wall evasively.

“We can show you how to use the system clock and reminders. You’d be surprised the features most people don’t know about,” Jake offers.

“Thanks, uh, sounds good.”

Curtis jams his finger on the touchpad harshly. He keeps his snarl aimed at the screen. You watch him, waiting for him to look up. He doesn’t. You don’t blame him, you’ve been a real thorn in his side. But you only meant well.

🌞

After the meeting, you swept up in a whirlwind of overthinking and guilt. You didn’t mean to ruin Curtis’ day. You never meant to be anything but friendly. Somehow, it rarely translates to more than a nuisance.

Still, you don’t like when people are mad at you. You’re not a grudge holder and frankly you don’t understand them. Why hold onto all that bad emotion? You need to to just apologise and let it all smooth over.

You go down to the cafeteria and grab one of the few leftover pastries. A cinnamon bun with icing, yum. You stop and make a coffee before you head back to the floor. You guess on a dark brew, he seems the type.

You wander past Research and Development and through Accounting. You don’t really know where you’re going. The further you get, the more your anxiety mounts. Surely, you can’t get lost in an office building.

You see a man with a headset and send a psst in his direction. He looks up, combing back his greasy hair with his fingers and smiles.

“Uh, hey,” he says.

“Um, is this IT?” You keep your voice down in the curdling silence of the department.

“Sure is. You need a repair?” He winks. Not exactly your taste. You shake your head.

“I’m looking for Curtis,” you say.

The man looks at your handful. He nods, deflating.

“Pretty boy’s over there,” he points towards the corner.

You thank the man and press on in your journey into the villain’s lair. You can only hope your offering is enough. Forgiveness, maybe that’s too much, but an understanding, possibly.

You turn down the last row of desks and see Curtis’ large hand brush over the back of his buzzcut, his rings twinkling in the fluorescent glow. He stretches in his chair, leaning back as he reaches his arms up. His set-up looks almost too small for him.

As you approach, he stands. You don’t expect it. The motion sends his chair back just as you get close and knocks the coffee out of your hand. The cup hits the seat and soaks into the mesh. Your squeak draws the man around in surprise.

“You,” he growls as you gape at him in shock.

“Hi,” you don’t know what to do so you hold out the cinnamon bun, “um, sorry?”

He glares at you. A deadly look that chills you to the bone. His eyes fall to his drenched seat and you cringe. You see the rage pale his face. His hands ball to fists.

“I was just…” you inch closer and set the dessert on the corner of his desk, “apologising but I see now that–”

“Go,” he grits through his teeth.

“I’m sorry, Curtis–”

“I said go,” he sneers as his grey blue eyes slowly move towards you, “before you ruin anything else.”

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi wtf!! That rude anon was not me, this is my blog. I created it and then had some problems with verification so I couldn’t send anything. (I only had my main😭) I’m sorry, we can tots cook together now🫶

Anyway, as for robot!König making you squirt, there are no questions asked. Rusty old robot doesn’t even know what the hell he just did. And omg yes your way to make him respond was exactly what i had in mind. He obviously knows what squirting is, because he’s so perverted, but he’s never seen it in real life - outside of the countless porn he’s downloaded.

He likes watching your face, eyes practically staring into your soul. He watches your mouth pout and listens to the little ah ah ah sounds you make, as your hands grip his strong shoulders.

He’s caging you in with one arm, forearm laid next to your face, and the other is gripping your thighs - angling your leg in a way as to encourage you to wrap it around his waist. His hands slide down to your ass ever now and then. Perhaps it’ll be a squeeze, maybe a slap or they’ll continue their journey until he’s reached your clit. He rubs and rubs and squeezes your poor little clit between his harsh fingers.

He mirrors your moans, seemingly unaware of the sounds he lets out in response to your own. And he finally breaks eye contact when he feels you starting to clench on him, “gonna cum..? Hm..?” He almost says nonchalantly. You find it unfair, how he’s not even half as affected by the fucking session. His eyes dart back up to yours when you don’t answer, and he turns on a low level vibration to which you immediately respond with “y-yes!” to. He hums, and turns up the vibration.

The thread snaps and you’re closing your eyes, gasping for air. He always tells you to keep your eyes on him, but this time… he’s not saying anything. He’s not even fucking your, the vibrating dick ongoing and prolonging your high, though. When you finally come home, eyes watering and throat dry, you quietly look at König to meet his eyes. He’s pulled back, sitting on his knees, and keeping your thighs open for him. He’s not looking at you, though, but down at the mess you made. You can’t even excuse yourself because you’ve ‘never done this before’ and you’re ‘so so sorry’ because he tilts his head to the side and lets out a short breath of air.

“Interesting.”

And he starts his painful rubbing on your clit again, grinning horribly at your yelp.

Yay!!! If trolling anon made you start your own writing blog to let us enjoy your Köni thoughts then I'd say we won :D Definitely waiting for what you come up with next! ❤️💋❤️

As for robot!König, can I just say I love how unemotional but piercingly intense he seems?? I mean they must have programmed some emotional responses into him, but you can never tell how organic they are. Is he curious in the way that artificial intelligence is, or is he actually developing feelings for you...? Is it all just electrical impulses or is there some form of human consciousness somewhere in there too?

Because one day he brings you a kitten, says it’s a gift but he gives it to you inside a grocery bag – he’s heard humans and especially women like pets, but he doesn’t understand the concept of giving gifts... So he just hands it to you like that, and when you look inside the plastic bag there’s this shaky little creature inside, meowing at you in minor shock.

Other times brings you “souvenirs” from war, and you never know if you’re going to get chocolate, cigarettes, pantyhose or a human skull :/ And he has at least some sort of self awareness and pride because he likes his new reputation as not only a killing machine, but a fucking machine as well. The container that serves as your home is echoing with your moans and mewls as he fucks you so of course everyone knows how good he is.

You always wonder if he's boasting to his comrades about the things he does to you, but then there are times when he looks almost tender while sitting on the old wooden bench, watching how you play with the kitten he brought you. Lets you put the cat on his shoulder so that it perches there small, wiggly and cute, on the slippery metal plate of his armor he never takes off.

You tell yourself it's affection, not curiosity, that makes his turn his head... It must be, a genuine attempt to seek connection when he slowly, gently, extends a gloved hand and lets the kitten shyly sniff at his finger, then rub her scent on it...

[thewertsearch]

GG: ok, so what is the plan? […] CG: OK WELL THE MOST IMMEDIATE POINT OF BUSINESS IS CG: YOU SEE THAT GLOWING BLUE SCREEN BEHIND YOU? […] CG: YOU NEED TO TURN THAT FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT OFF.

The Fourth Wall again?

So far, it's really only been relevant to the non-canonical Hussie interludes, but maybe it’s dangerous for Watsonian reasons, too. Gamzee certainly seems interested in it...

It did belong to Jack originally. Maybe Derse can still make use of it, so it needs to be disabled before someone like DD gets any clever ideas.

CG: I'M NOT GOING TO SAY MUCH ABOUT IT. CG: BUT SUFFICE TO SAY THERE ARE JUST SOME THINGS YOU DON'T WANT TO SCREW WITH. […] CG: THEY ARE FORCES WHICH IF HANDLED RECKLESSLY WILL NULLIFY THE BASIC ABILITY OF INTELLIGENT BEINGS IN ALL REAL AND HYPOTHETICAL PLANES OF EXISTENCE TO GIVE A SHIT.

Oh, I get it. Karkat’s taking a little break from canon himself, and explaining to the audience that too many meta shenanigans would eventually ruin the story.

I’m absolutely in agreement with this. A fourth-wall break in the wrong place could completely ruin the comic’s dramatic stakes. This is a goofy comic, and we have fun here, but going full Deadpool would tear the plot to shreds.

CG: […] MY ROLE AT THE MOMENT IS TO ACT AS A SORT OF GO BETWEEN FOR YOU AND YOUR FUTURE SELF CG: TO HELP ALONG THE PROCESS OF MAKING THESE PLANS CG: WHILE YOUR FUTURE SELF IS DELIBERATELY VAGUE ABOUT SOME STUFF SO AS NOT TO "JINX" THE CONCEPTION OF THE IDEAS IN THE FIRST PLACE I GUESS?

I like this idea. It allows Future Jade to guide her past self’s actions, but filters her guidance through a layer of indirection. Present Jade will be getting some help, but she'll still be able to come up with her own original ideas.

Jade really doesn’t want her plans to be stable-looped into existence, and I can get behind that sentiment, too.

CG: MEANWHILE TIME IS KIND OF RUNNING OUT HERE, WHERE I AM CG: WE'RE COUNTING DOWN TO SOMETHING CG: SOMETHING LOOMING ON THE TROLLIAN TIMELINE AND NO ONE KNOWS WHAT IT IS CG: AND MY TEAM IS KIND OF FALLING APART CG: I'M COMPLETELY LOSING TRACK OF EVERYONE AND WHAT THEY'RE DOING.

It's been a while since we've done a Veil roll call, actually. Let's give it a whirl.

Karkat is coordinating with Jade on what may or may not become the Scratch plan, and trying to keep tabs on his deteriorating team.

Vriska and Terezi are fighting a proxy war using John and Dave respectively.

Aradia has exploded, and the status of her ghost is currently unknown.

Kanaya is trying in vain to dissuade Rose from the trajectory that Scratch and the Gods have set her on.

Gamzee has recently developed a hatecrush on Dave. He also has some huge hidden importance to the comic, and he’s going to be attacked close to the end of the countdown.

Eridan is planning to confront Jack with his 'awesome' new Science Wand.

Tavros is on his way to confront Vriska and there's like a 98% chance she's going to paralyze him again.

Feferi is consorting with monsters in her dreams. She's also destined to be killed, but her assailant is currently unknown.

The only trolls who (as far as we're aware) aren't up to something are Equius, Nepeta and Sollux.