#also trying to find a logistic way to

[gz-missfit]

Trying to write out something about these 2 from yesterday cause I'm ngl I'm still fucked up about the way the got separated </3

These 2 are gonna be the death of me at some point, and even now with a clearer mind I'm still not ready to cope with what happened pffff.

They couldn't see each other but still locked eyes, Pac having just received a message on his communicator from Fit about coordinates they've been searching the prison for to finally save their Walter Bob. They were quick to climb down the floors to meet up with said man, hushed whispers calling out to him as he focused harder on his work and mumbled his answers to them.

It wasn't until Pac's skin started to tingle that he realized they didn't have much more time to explore, and the glance he could throw at Mike's flashing form due to their potions running out told him he wasn't alone. All 3 quickly said their goodbyes to Fit, appreciating his help and leaving with hearing the apology of not being able to join due to needing to finish this job, the anxiety of losing the position creeping into the bald man's eyes.

The travel was quick, laughs shared as all 3 of them rode their horses, laughing at Richa's stumbling or an off-hand comment by Mike. It didn't feel like a mission to save their friend for a bit, but rather to just meet up with someone they hadn't seen for a while. As the 3 climbed up on the stoney shore dug up by hand and their sons eyes fell onto the edge of the jungle their stomachs dropped. 

Blood.

A trail of blood leading behind the bushes and into the shaded areas deep in the woods that surrounded them. Pac could feel the anxiety claw at his throat, the scratches it made during the time they explored the prison and he got caught in a trap still being raw and sore causing his panic to rise even faster. Glancing at Mike told him his other half wasn't feeling the same type of fear though.

Mike's eyes were locked on the blood, his look dark and threatening like he was just waiting for the person they could blame for this to show themselves so he could explode in their face, and the hisses of anger that erupted from deep within the hybrid made Pac worry about him actually physically exploding. It wouldn't have been the first time.

A rustling of the bushes made Pac swing his head around, his eyes scanning the green landscape that surrounded the trio and it took him a few takes before he noticed the entity floating in front of him. Before he could even draw a weapon he started shouting towards his son, moving to cover him as Mike stepped closer again to see what the yelling was about, hiss dying in his throat like he was frozen as soon as his eyes locked onto the entity as well.

Pac's whole body shook as it approached, his anxiety already being at a high now shooting through the roof as he separates from Richas in a desperate hope to lead the entity away, begging it to follow him rather than go for his son. It was only then that he got a good look at the sword the being now held, it was a longsword. Shattered in the middle of the blade, being held together by seemingly nothing except for lines of code invisible to the naked eye. It shone green, emitting green particles that were glitching out as soon as they fell from the weapon.

Pac's breath caught in his throat.

Come to think of it, when was the last time he took a breath?

Mike's voice cut through the fuzziness of the panic attack that was currently trying to wash over Pac like a wave of ice cold water. He shook his head, trying to look for the location the voice was coming from only to feel a slice at his arm. The blade stung as it pierced his skin and he could feel an almost poison like magic run through every bit of his body. It set his veins ablaze for a split second and once he came back to himself he noticed the items he held dear in his hotbar were now scattered on the floor. Green glitching particles clinging to them like parasites.

He stumbled back, Mike's voice getting clearer now that the adrenaline had pushed his panic attack deep down into himself where it should've been in the first place, he finally finds his voice again as he calls for his other half. Desperate as he feels another slice of the sword in his back as he runs, he ends up getting caught in some bushes, closing his eyes tightly as he calls out to Mike that this is it. That he doesn't want to go but he can see that Mike's sword bounces off the being like it's nothing. That he needs Mike to get out of there, to stay alive. 

Just as he was about a hit away from passing out, wounds scattered across his body sizzling with the same green particles that surrounded the items that got taken from him mere seconds ago and were now scattered across the floor, did he hear a thud. He carefully opened an eye just to rip them open as he saw the thing follow Mike now, his body desperately protesting the movement of his muscles against the plants he got caught in which were ripping at his wounds as he tried to move.

It all went black.

He was soaked.

He could feel Mike's breath against his arm.

He opened his eyes and instantly locked them with Forever, he could see the others mouth moving but nothing was being picked up by Pac's brain, an almost humming static getting louder and louder as he could feel the green particles in his wounds buzz with what he assumed was sick and twisted anticipation of what's to come. 

Looking to his side he could see Mike, passed out after a nasty hit on his arm and hitting his head during the rough teleportation of their shared stasis chamber, Pac reached out through their mental link and physically. Hands shaking at the adrenaline wearing off and pain of his wounds becoming clearer to his mind. He activated Mike's warpstone and set it to the location of their safe room which they spent the day after their prison escape in, looking back he couldn't have told anyone why he did it. Just that he had a feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong and he needed to know Mike was safe. He needed to make sure he was safe. He needed to protect the person he chose to have a bond that goes beyond words with even if it meant sending them away.

Green eyes slowly opened and locked with Pac's dark ones, he smiled sadly as the particles that had embedded themselves in his wounds buzzed brighter setting his body ablaze with a yelp. While Mike's vision got clouded by the purple particles taking him to a location he didn't know. He could see Pac get drowned out by green ones, and before he could reach back for his friend both vanished. Mike's purple cloud taking him to a place of safety while Pac's green one ripped him apart and put him back together a few feet above a deep ocean.

As he fell he could do nothing but call for Mike, pulling at the strings that merged their minds together in a desperate attempt to hold on as the cold water forced a painful gasp out of his lungs. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes but were quickly washed away by the angry waves that pulled him deep below the water, his lungs burning at the pressure of it and it forcing itself into his body as he desperately tried to gasp for air. He knew he was close to passing out, fear rushing to his mind of this being the end but a bitter smile making itself onto his face as he realized his son was safe, and with how he could now also feel Mike desperately rip at the strings that bound them together it told him he was safe too. He let out a bitter chuckle which forced more water into his lungs as he finally let his eyes fall close from sheer exhaustion, the last thing he did was call back to the ripping in his mind yelling for the others name only to have the strings snap before his eyes. 

Everything was black now.

Tazers mind was now offline.

On the other side of the island a creeper/slime hybrid was now on his knees. Tears flooded from his eyes as he desperately called out to his best friend's name with a voice that's obviously been screaming for a bit now and was at the border of breaking through the abuse his vocal chords were taking. He couldn't even say goodbye, waking up from having passed out through a teleportation only to be met with Pac's eyes and see him be engulfed by a green cloud that made his wounds glow as Mike's warpstone engulfed him in a purple one, the teleport almost made him throw up as he quickly scanned his surroundings only to realize he was in their safe room. One where he'd spent endless nights of being shook awake by nightmares of Walter Bob being taken only to have Pac there by his side to ease the pain of each one. 

The room felt empty without the others' presence, even with it's small size.

Mike could feel the anger bubbling in his throat at Pac for sending him away, not letting him stay, not letting him help. Before he could call out Mike was hit with a wave of coldness that made his bones clatter at how deep it ran into him, his eyes snapping wide open as he realized that the strings in his mind that connected him to someone he couldn't see right now were pulled tightly and being covered in a thick layer of ice that reached Mike's body in a phantom feeling. He scrambled to call back, to call Pac's name the same he had just called his but there was no response. His calls fell onto nothingness as his soulbounds voice echoed in his brain. Mike was panicked about to get up and try to get out of the room where Pac had sent him, only to freeze as a snap ran through his brain. He quickly tried to pull at the all familiar strings that connected to Pac, even with one of them asleep there'd be something transmitted among them even if it was just the heavy weight of a sleeping consciousness. But there was nothing. All he got was a TV static like buzzing and even that felt like utter silence in comparison to what he'd usually get in return.

So here he was now, fallen to his knees as he clutched the Pacman pendant he had held for decades close, Pac carrying the matching creeper one. His voice was hoarse and raw as nothing but sobs left his mouth in hitching painful breaths as his body dealt with the aftershock of burning lungs and freezing bones.

He was alone with his thoughts now, no constant stream of input from the person he chose to spend his entire life with, only a faint buzzing as he begged for that connection to still be there, nothing but silence and emptiness surrounding him.

Mike's breath hitched painfully as exhaustion and blood loss from his wound finally hit him, the adrenaline letting off and causing his body to be hit by waves of pain and exhaustion. He fell forward, landing in the soft padding of the floor of their safe room as his eyes started to fall shut he could do nothing but whimper as his body lost the energy to even fully cry. Hoping he'd wake up to someone else there, but also wishing he would never wake up until there actually was someone there. But he knew this world wouldn't be that kind to him. With a few last painful breaths his eyes finally fell shut as his cries fell onto an empty arena with no one to hear him.

Craft was now alone. 

And he needed to be stronger than ever before.

[musical-chick-13]

.

[arolesbianism]

Thinks oh so hard abt raccoon au printing pod doomed yuri.... What if you were a robot in love with your fellow robot but your past human selves had to fuck it all up and murder eachother 🙄

[jnnul]

riding enhypen hc's <3

a/n: entirely self-indulgent filth is at your service! i spiraled & sunoo's is genuinely dangerous. word count: 1.4k genre: nsfw...straight smut.

yang jungwon

freaks out

when you asked him if you could ride him, he freaked out

first, he had to figure out the logistics, then why you wanted to do it in the first place, then - !

you tell him to just stop thinking and let you make him feel good

so when he hesitantly agrees, he's still worried you're somehow going to manage to hurt yourself

until you finally, finally ease yourself down, pausing every so often to get used to his length

and then you bottom out

and jungwon sees heaven

he's too busy trying not to cum like a virgin the second you bottom out to remember why he was so worried in the first place

looking at his expression, you move to lift yourself off of him when his hands find your hips and keep you seated

"don't move. feels good."

you almost laugh at the neanderthal language your boyfriend is using but suddenly, he's guiding your hips forward and you're too shocked to laugh

goddamn. you knew it would feel good for him but not this good

jungwon never tries to control your movements when you have sex but clearly, this was a new experience for him

you like it. a lot.

as you do it more often and jungwon gets more used to it, he likes being a little more dominant by telling you to stop or keep going

mostly because knowing that you like it makes him horny as fuck

lee heeseung

b e g s you to do it

except he manages to do it in a way where you’re convinced that it was your idea in the first place

tries his best to keep his hands to himself

fails every time

kinda like jungwon, his hands always just naturally gravitate towards your hips

loves to control your pace and drag your hips slowly against his

bc he knows how much you hate it

he makes sure to bring you to the edge and rip your pleasure away at the last second

he's a fucking asshole (and you tell him as much) but he just laughs and kisses your tears away

definitely the type to tell you to sit slowly only to knock the wind out of you by thrusting suddenly

loves it when you grab his shoulders, trying to steady yourself

he gets such an ego boost when your thighs are shaking, and your grip on his body is too tight

he likes knowing that he's the single man on earth who could make you feel this good

will 100% kiss your collarbone when you're leaning over him

riding him is fun, teasing but also really romantic when he wants to be

absolutely will not flip you over, even when you get tired

"you're tired? that's alright, baby. we've got all night and nowhere to be."

park jongseong

such a cutie patootie bc he's always thinking abt if you're going through too much trouble

honestly, you would only be able to ride him when he's really tired

or when he's feeling a little down or when you just wanna spoil him

bc he l o v e s it when you ride him but he's always so worried abt you :(

sits against the headboard so that you can have more stability

presses so many kisses against your chest and neck

loves it when you're slow and grinding against him, just enjoying how full he makes you feel

loves it even more when you're riding him like it's the only thing you can think of doing in that moment

absolutely runs his hands up and down your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him

always is kissing you btw

no matter how fucked out you are (or he is, tbh) he's always kissing you bc you're going out of your way to make him feel good

just so incredibly love w you

will absolutely be asking if you want him to flip you over and make you feel good

doesn't believe you when you say that riding him does make you feel good

accidentally leaves bruises on your hips from how hard his grip is on you

kisses every single one of the bruises he leaves because he feels so sorry :(

definitely a groaner and his head falls back when you bottom out

he's such a romantic omg

jake sim

so excited cannot control himself

will beg you to ride him and is not ashamed of it

"yeah and you would too if your s/o was as hot as mine."

is kinda silly abt it because for him, pleasure is the ultimate goal

so even though you're riding him, he will 'accidentally' thrust upwards just to see you gasp

absolutely the type to do goofy shit in the middle to see you lose your breath

gets such an ego boost when you're sweating, trying not to cum before him when he's making it so hard for you

is a rlly sensual person so if the vibe is kinda serious, he will absolutely be pushing your hair back, pressing kisses against your shoulders

prefers you to ride him when the two of you are sitting

like sitting in an armchair or some shit

he feels like he's closer to you and he rlly likes the feeling of you clinging to him (kinda like heeseung)

is super versatile? like he gets turned on by pretty much everything and is into everything

so he can go from having a rlly serious vibe and kissing you senseless while you're seated full of him

to bouncing you on his dick faster than you can even register the switch

gets such a kick of adrenaline when you're fucked thoughtless when you're riding him

especially when you're babbling nonsense about how you don't want to stop and that you're in love w his dick

ABSOLUTELY goes feral for the praise

park sunghoon

one serving of a cocky ass mf when you first suggest it ("LMAOO you like like me")

kinda like jay in that he feels bad at first bc he rlly only lets you do it when he's feeling rlly tired

or when he just wants to be taken care of

since most of the time, he likes it for you to just sit back and relax

when he finally gives in though, he enjoys it to the fullest

absolutely accidentally edges you while he edges himself

everything feels so intense that he just needs you to stop every so often for you to catch your breath

and for him to get his head straight

but his thoughts grow cloudier and cloudier the longer you ride him

eventually, he gives up the reigns to you and that's when the fun really begins

he's such a sweetie when he's so far gone

tries his best to be quiet but just starts babbling when you ride him like it's the only thing you can think of doing

his hands are all over your body, trying to find something to anchor himself to

mark. him. up.

loves feeling special to you and feeling like you'd never give anyone else the chance to make you feel good like this

i wouldn't say that he's subby necessarily but he kinda gives into a more gentle and pliable side of him that you normally don't see

and when he cums, good god praise him so much pls :( he deserves it

kim sunoo

actually the best person to ever ride (i say this from personal experience)

slightly more dominant than usual because he loves seeing you melt when he takes control

snaps his hips up when you least expect it to see you whimper

gets such an ego boost when you lose your strength and fall into his arms

will hold you close to his chest as he fucks into you

kisses you when you're leaning into him

very slow and steady and purposeful with his movements, making you want more when he does the slightest movements

laughs when you nearly pass out after you cum (not in a mean way) (in a slightly mean way)

thinks you're absolutely adorable and likes watching you fumble for a couple moments before he starts guiding you

honestly probably doesn't let you do it very often bc he has to be in a very specific mindset for it

probably only happens when you're feeling RLLY needy

it's also probably just foreplay to him before he flips you over and fucks you until your mind goes absolutely blank

might even get freaky with it

do not get surprised if he ties your hands behind your back with a tie or smth

and tells you to 'get moving' in teasing way

overall, unlocks a side of him that you rarely get but absolutely love every time that you see it

[homunculus-argument]

I know it would probably be a logistical nightmare to also make this accessible to the actual people represented, but I think it would be cool to have a game where the whole point is that every character has different limitations, that make it impossible or at least incredibly difficult to get past the whole game without switching them every once in a while, and the way you switch is by going to another character and asking their help with something.

Like you start out the game with one character and go "oh huh, the colour sceme of this game is really cool, really interesting use of such a limited palette", play through the puzzles for a while, and then encounter something where you're supposed to arrange some slightly differently coloured puzzle pieces to the right order by shade or something, and it's goddamn impossible. No matter how many methods you try, it's just not clicking, no matter how logical your solutions seem, no matter how clearly they can't be arranged in any other way that'd make more sense.

And maybe you go online to ask people "hey I'm stuck in the colour puzzle, what the hell am I supposed to do to get past this?" and someone tells you to go find one of the other playable characters and ask for their help. Which sounds patronising and stupid but you're stuck so you might as well give it a try. You go to one of the other characters, choosing the dialogue option to go "hey I need a hand with something, I can't do this on my own", and when they go "sure, let's go", your controls now switch to the other character.

And the colour scheme switches immediately. The aesthetic limited palette has changed to a far wider range, there's details in the environment that you hadn't noticed, like the muted faint flowers on the ground are actually bright red, the greyish shirt that your first character was wearing is actually striped with orange and green. The first POV character is colourblind, this whole time you haven't been able to perceive the difference between green and red. Solving the colour arranging puzzle with the other character is a breeze.

And this is the repeating theme of the game - every character has their own limitations, and while none of the puzzles are easy, you learn to think "maybe I should ask someone to help me with this" whenever you've been stuck for an unreasonable amount of time. You need to grab a buddy along for the quests, or you'll need to go back to get one eventually, and the way the game is structured somehow ensures that you can't just tactically dodge the limitation puzzles beforehand. Deaf character's POV doesn't have the audio clues that different pieces of the same puzzle make a different clicking sound, the puzzle with garbled numbers on it stops being garbled when you're not playing the character with dyscalculia.

You slowly get to know the whole cast, and occasionally help them out with things, too. You know which character could probably help with something you're stuck with, but while they'd be glad to come help, they're unfortunately stuck doing some task that could take you 20 minutes but is going to take them all afternoon, and you can offer help. Sometimes the helping-a-buddy-out minigames don't come with any direct transactional reward, you can just help a friend with something just because you can.

And the game's whole goal isn't to just illustrate how different people have different strengths, and sometimes things that are easy for you are hard for someone else, and vice versa, but to condition the player to think "maybe I should just ask someone to help, instead of wasting time struggling on my own."

[elainemorisi]

perhaps, for my thirties, it is time to harness my powers of not giving a solitary shit what people think of me and Learn Conversation by brute force and repetition, because hoo boy, my generation, the skill, she is lost

[charliemwrites]

A Thought™️ that I had last night and shared in the Discord server, that I’m now going to share here more fleshed out.

CW for implied/mentioned dubcon, kidnapping, unhealthy relationship dynamics, objectification, and reader anxiety. Oh and Simon being Mean.

You belong to Johnny — one of his toys, essentially. Like a cock ring or a vibrator but better because you also serve as a little companion pet. Someone that Simon got for Johnny to pour all that overflowing love and tenderness into when he just… can’t handle it. When he starts wanting to hurt Johnny in Very Bad ways past the lines they already walk, only because Johnny wants to dote on him.

So Simon got you as a gift for Johnny.

And he gets to dote on you, chatter to you, soothe you, fuck you. It’s a weird “relationship” you two have. Johnny pouring so much into you while you awkwardly try to reciprocate and tolerate. A bit like a child’s beloved long-suffering pet. Simon lets Johnny drag you everywhere, dress you up, babble on about you. Put in all that attention and energy when Simon is needed (or simply just focused) elsewhere. Johnny’s happy as a peach, Simon gets a bit of a break, and you’re a soft-spined thing that’s stopped crying and whining for the most part so wins all around.

You and Simon’s relationship is nonexistent. Just a matter of logistics. You’re one of Johnny’s toys that Simon got for him, end of. You interact with him only so far as 1, following the rules of captivity; 2, keeping Johnny happy; and 3, being used as a reward or punishment to be given or taken away.

And the two of you are respectively fine with that. You follow Johnny around, speak almost solely to or through him. Are not acknowledged by Simon unless Johnny’s showing you off.

Until Johnny is gone for a Period of Time. A mission, most likely.

While he’s away, you treat it as a sort of vacation and just avoid Simon, don’t even ask when Johnny will be back. Until one day you’re going about your business, kind of bebopping along in your own little world. And almost run directly into Simon.

Blink in surprise, hurriedly skirt around him, pulse skipping. “Excuse me,” you say, soft and melodic (a voice you specifically use to soothe and neutralize) and then pad away quickly.

It flips something in Simon’s brain. Like a cat seeing a bit of interesting movement. Locked on, tail swishing.

You’re just so… shy. Even with Johnny you’ve always been a bit reserved, but with Simon you studiously avoid eye contact with his very person - in a way he can’t even get Johnny to do in the deepest subspace. You’re just this quiet little thing that lives in his house, and it’s like it only just occurs to him.

Simon starts finding ways to hem you in against counters and walls, making you squeeze past in hallways. You try to be so so careful of his Sacred Personal Space because Johnny’s gleeful shared stories (and shown you evidence) about how Simon “handles” touching without permission. You’ve no interest in being on the receiving end of any of that, thank you very much.

But then Simon starts showing up all over the house to watch you like a specimen — you devoid of Johnny. You’re so normal and functional. Snacks and tv shows and novels. Bird watching in the windows. Napping in Johnny’s room. Cooking and cleaning up after yourself.

He starts taking up all the space you just got back. Fills up a room with his presence alone. Squishes you in on the couch until you’re nearly falling over the arm just to maintain that sliver of no-contact.

Gets to the point that he even growls at you when you pass too close, just to hear you squeak and watch you dart off with a mumbled, “sorry!”

“Make us a cup of tea,” he says as your futzing in the kitchen on morning.

You’re so used to being ignored that you don’t respond, mouthing words to some ditzy song stuck in your head. He grunts in annoyance and takes two long strides towards you — not that he needs to, your head snapped up halfway through the first.

“Oop,” you breathe, scrambling away from the counter.

“The hell are you going?” He ask, voice purposefully gruff.

“I, um… I thought… that you needed something…?” you explain, pointing at the cabinets you were just in front of.

“I need a fucking cuppa.”

You blink.

He reminds himself that you’re not trained like Johnny. But that doesn’t mean you’re getting away with anything.

“Do I need to spell it out for you?”

A double blink as you seem to process. “O-oh! Uh, sure. The black cup right?”

You shuffle back to your previous spot and reach into the cabinet, up on your toes because Simon put it a shelf higher than usual. Seem to actually be waiting for a response as you hold the mug up in question. He just stares.

And there goes the nibbling - a nervous habit that tears up your bottom lip. Still, you keep going, filling the kettle and tapping your fingers nervously at the sides as you wait.

“Earl Grey?” you ask.

He grunts. You look a little frustrated about that, if you should take it as a yes. Decide that it is and fish a sachet out while the water’s heating.

While you wait, you try to continue what you were doing before - making yourself a little parfait - but Simon’s stationed himself in such a way that you can’t get to the cutting boards without asking him to move. And you really, really want some of the fresh fruit he bought yesterday.

“Um…” you start.

He crosses his arms, seems to loom without ever taking a step closer. You fidget, fingers twisting in the long sleeves of your jumper.

“I need — could… could you…?” You’re flushing brighter and brighter, eyes darting all over so fast he’s surprised you’re not dizzy. “Could I get by… um, into that cupboard… please?”

He takes a single half step to the side. Your eyes actually get a bit shiny as you blink, confusion and anxiety welling up. But you keep it together enough to awkwardly angle yourself, get the cabinet open just a sliver, and maneuver a cutting board out.

Simon realizes you’re holding your breath the entire time, until you’re once again a safe distance away. He snorts softly as you pluck a tiny paring knife from the block and get to work on cutting up your assortment of fruits.

“Who the hell said you could have a knife?” he demands.

You pause, give him a truly baffled look. “Um… no one said I couldn’t? I just, uh, use them sometimes. Johnny’s taught me tricks. Or-or tried to anyway…”

It’s the most he’s ever heard you speak. Your tone catches between appeasement and genuine confusion. You finish cutting a strawberry into cubes, then send him a worried glance.

“Am I… not supposed to…?”

Because you know that it doesn’t matter how things normally are. What matters is how Simon wants things to be.

“Put that down.”

You do. He strides towards you and as always, you’re quick to make way. He takes up the knife to finish paring and jerks his head at the the stove.

“Tea’s almost done. Take care of it.”

You jump as the kettle starts to whistle, murmur a quick “oh, shoot!” as you hurry to finish making his tea. By the time you’re done, he’d cut all the fruit and stolen a handful as a toll for his “help”.

Hasn’t actually put any of the fruit in your waiting yogurt, though. And the dishes are still there on the counter, along with detritus of unwanted bits like strawberry tops.

He takes a sip — made just the way he likes.

“Next time, dont make me repeat myself,” he barks.

You jump nearly a mile, blueberries rolling across the counter.

“Y-you repeated yourself?” You ask, hurrying to catch the berries before they hit the ground.

“About the tea,” he explains impatiently.

You blink for a second. “Oh! I thought you were on the phone. Sorry.”

He grunts. And doesn’t leave. After a moment, the pressure of his stare seems to get to you.

“Was… there anything else…?” you wonder.

“I’d tell you if there was,” he replies, flat.

You swallow, press your lips together, then continue with your task, shoulders a little tenser than before. When your parfait is finished (and dishes are in the machine) you escape to the dining table to eat in peace. He gives you two solitary bites before he’s at the corner next to you, and your spoon clinks against the bowl in surprise.

Well.

Isn’t this a fun game?

[dcxdpdabbles]

I love all your stuff! Are you planning to update Passion for Fashion, Child Support, or Congratulations It's Triplets soon? They are some of my favorites! If not, it's chill. Everything you write is kinda awesome so I look forward to anything you are willing to give

The Justice League has kept a weary eye on Danny Constantine because he is the son of one of their less than willing-to-work-in-team members and has found his way onto the youngest hero's team.

Robin, Abuse, and Superboy (the new one, not the Young Justice one) rarely went into the field. They mostly worked within Gotham, handling minor things until they got a feel for the dangers and the work of being a hero.

Bruce, assured everyone that within his city he was fairly sure he could keep them safe. (fairly because let's be honest, it is Gotham. That place was crawling with lunatics- Batman being one of them)

Clack would have preferred if Jon started in a smaller, less dangerous place, but his son has proven more than willing to sneak out to meet with Damian and Colin. It was no secret that Robin was the most trained and the most prepared to lead his team.

That didn't mean they were comfortable with three little children running around risking their lives. Phantom was the group's eldest but also the newest member of the team. He did struggle with his powers, but every day, under the careful eye of Batman's son, he grew more and more in control.

They were pleasantly surprised by how well he fit into the Super Sons. (A work-in-progress name developed when the team had only been Robin and Superboy.). The Justice League had been even more astounded by how careful Phantom was about property damage.

It's true that in a fight, they couldn't help with some damage, but Phantom always went out of his way to remind the other kids mid-battle to be careful and avoid breaking anything. He was more often than not racing after whatever car or building was thrown to faze it through other things.

He even helps the citizens take some photos for insurance purposes. It was shockingly refreshing to see someone worry about the logistics of being a hero.

When asked, Phantom would only blush in embarrassment. "My dad caused a lot of property damage when he drove. I got good at helping people file cases as an apology."

John denied it to everyone, but seeing as Danny's other father was literal Time itself, there was no way he wasn't the idiot on the road. Bruce prepared some lawyers for the people he may have hit and run.

It also helped that Danny seemed to be the new voice of reason within the Super Sons. One that wasn't convinced to try anything by Damian- --- Jon- or follow blindly behind Damian-Collin. He was respectful of Robin's role as leader but was always willing to talk him into respecting the team's suggestions and how to properly communicate. The success rates of Super Sons were skyrocketing with Danny, especially since Danny seemed to be great at PR.

Before Robin and Abuse were not as welcomed by the masses. Robin for being far more violent and rude than his pressors and Abuse for the absolute mountain of muscle that reminded people too much of Bane. Even Superboy was not as warmly noticed simply due to Gothamnics having a bitter rivalship with Metropolis City.

Phantom, on the other hand, was cheerful, helpful, and had enough of his father's sass to make even the worst of Gotham's grin. He also made time out of his day to help the community, walking people home, finding lost pets, cleaning up neighborhoods, and even appearing to clothe and feed whoever he came across.

Bruce himself claimed that a majority of the goons that Danny fought were slowly attempting to turn their life around. Danny had this strange ability to make people feel safe around him, and that let them get comfortable enough to talk about their issues.

It was hard to remember that Danny was blood-related to John Constantine out of all people. His civilian lifestyle, on the other hand, was completely different from his magical father in another way- he was a loser.

While Phantom had this glow, attention-grabbing charisma about him, Danny Constantine seemed to shrink in on himself and fumble with social interactions.

Bruce theorized that his human blood side lacked the near hypnotic attraction of Clockwork. Texts and tombs spoke of Clockwork as temptation itself, and he figured Danny had inherited that intoxicating ability.

This meant that Damian had to be worried about his teammate being bullied out of his sight.

It was displeasing to know that somewhere in the country, Danny was being made fun of, pushed around, or even attacked while he sat in the comfort of his elite school.

If there was one thing Damian Wayne could count as his flaw, it was being feireicly overprotective of those he considered his. That's why he strong-armed his father into paying for Colin to go to Gotham Academy while attempting to convince Clark to transfer Jon.

Jon himself didn't suffer from bullying, so he remained in Metropolis Middle School. His Beloved was moved to his classroom, where Damian had attached himself to his side and scared away anyone foolish enough to attempt to make Colin cry.

Beloved had awarded him with sweet kisses every time, so sometimes Damian hoped the fools of the Academy would try him more often.

Danny however, remained in some stupid school that had teenage boys bother him. John claimed he couldn't afford to send Danny anywhere better, and was seen stressing in the Watch Tower computer room looking into homeschooling.

Apparently, Danny's health depended on healthy relationships with humans. His biology literally attacked him if he couldn't be around people, and John was always pushing for Super Sons to have more meet-ups outside of suits as much as possible while trying to find a new school.

Danny has been moved to four schools already. The bullying just didn't seem to stop no matter where he went as a human.

"Father, it's important," Damian says for the fifth time. "Danny is struggling. It would be better to place him near us to provide protective support."

"Damian, I can't just pay for all your friends' education. It will get suspicious." Bruce sighs. "There are already rumors about Colin."

"But Father, you must think logically. Constantine may have sired him, but Danny is still Clockwork's son. He controls time. He is an entity we can not afford to make into an enemy. I highly doubt he will be pleased by how some mortals have been treating his son." Damian counters, ignoring the rage of the comment about his Beloved. He will find the mouths that will need to be taught to keep Beloved's name out of later. "This could stop whatever retaliation that is sure to be coming in its tracks."

Bruce considered it. "I could try to make it seem like Danny won something on his own....but I'm worried the board is starting to catch on. The other day Babs had to block an investigation of me possibly emblazing funds. "

"Father you do not understand-"

"Bruce!" Tim yelled, racing into the room, holding a laptop. "Bruce, it's Klarion! He's in Gotham."

Damian and Bruce both stiffen in horror. They dislike magic the most, seeing as it rarely follows predictable logic. Not that they couldn't eventually find the answer or the rules of whatever magic user was flowing, but it was a lot longer and headache-inducing. "Why is he here, and what does he want?"

"Well....he's not really doing anything bad?" Tim says, flipping the screen around. On it, the two Waynes can see a flouting teen snapping his fingers turning everything on the street into gold.

"If I was your husband, you would want for nothing!" Klarion cries, sinking to one knee before the startled-looking Phantom. "Oh, great heir of Clockwork, our union would be spoken for generations!"

"Lord of Choas Klarion, I am flattered by your offer but I'm not considering marriage right now." Phantom awkwardly says, rubbing his neck.

"But my young lord, Clockwork has proclaimed that your marriage partner is yours to make," Klarion says, snapping more of his fingers and turning the lined-up cars into large bouquets of roses. People scramble around from the demon, screaming as his magic nearly turns them. "Surely you see if our houses combine we would be unstoppable?"

Phantom's face hardens. "First of all, I don't date anyone for interest. Second, you're starting to bother the people of Gotham so cut it out. Third, I already said no so you-"

"Take a bloody hint and leave my boy alone!" John Constantine screams portaling into the scene with a wave of magic. He throws five powerful spells at the Witch boy who hisses back.

Hisses like a snake.

"Insolent mortal! This does not consider filth like-"

"Don't talk to my dad that way!" Phantom shouts cutting the Choas Lord off.

Klarion demonic features shrink back into a regular face as he blinks in shock. "This moral is your father?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Forgive my rude behavior, sir." Klarion's tone smooths out in an instant, snapping his figures to dust Constantine's shoulders. John frowns at him which makes the witch boy actually stumble. "Surely I can make it up to you? I am very interested in becoming your son-in-law and wouldn't want to make our relationship strain by my hasty behavior"

Bruce reaches over and closes the laptop before they can hear Constantine's response. "We are not dealing with whatever soap drama that was."

"Father!"

[traffytaffy]

OP Men and proposing💍

Ft. Law, Kid, Sanji, Zoro.

Sorry i haven’t posted in a bit. I had like no ideas, but this was actually requested by my best friend who was going through “marriage fever” lmao.

Requests are open!

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Law;

-Marriage isn’t something he’s concerned with but if it is something that you’ve shown interest too, then he’ll consider it. But expect a proposal after several years of being together.

-He would prefer something quiet.

-Somewhere that only you can hear the way he speaks to you in his gentle voice as he tells you everything he loves about you. 

-He wont get on one knee but he would be right next to you, thigh-to-thigh, hand-in hand… as the close contact of his warmth radiates off of him and onto you.

-He would probably pick the night time so it would be more peaceful as the moon and stars are out (also so you don’t see his deep blush)

-He looks embarrassed at first but decides to just be upfront and honest.

-He would pull out a diamond ring. It wouldn’t be too extravagant,something minimal but filled with love.

“Would you…accept this? And make me the happiest man…once more?”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Kid;

-Marriage doesnt really pass his mind. If youre with him. You’re his, not a paper or a ring can tell him otherwise.

-I dont think he would care about the logistics of it, but he decides to take matters in his own hands once he sees someone flirting with you…

“Married?”

You nod to get the person flirting with you away…

“I don’t see a ring on ya finger”

-After…beating their ass. Kid would make you a custom ring with an engraving of you and his initials.

-Instead of getting on one knee. He just hands you the ring, his flustered face not able to meet your eyes and all he says is:

“Keep it on, you hear me?”

-And thats all you needed to hear to know you’re a married partner now…without even saying yes.

(You can not convince me he’s not a big softie)

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Sanji;

Do i even have to say it?

He has every…little..thing… planned..

-Its Sanji, you should know he would make a proposal the most romantic gesture he has ever done.

-He’d probably buy you bushes of flowers. Petals running up and down the beach where you find a candlelit dinner waiting for you. And of course… he cooked it all.

-French wine. The best of the best.

-His suit was fresh and crisp, not one single wrinkle in its fabric. You actually felt a bit under-dressed but he assured you that you were the most beautiful thing to him no matter what you wore.

-You felt like an idiot cause out of all the extravagant dates and romantic gestures hes done for you, it took him getting down on one knee for you to finally understand what was happening.

-He has a long speech. You probably have to shut him up by giving him a kiss midway through and saying “please shut up. Of course its a yes” in a sweet and playful way obviously.

-Cause he didnt need to say every great detail about you for you to know your answer was always going to be a yes.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Zoro;

Probably accidentally got lost and made it to an office where he can file for marriage.

(Kidding…well maybe..?)

-He probably would propose if its something you want. As for him, its not really a big deal.

-He actually does try to plan it out to the best of his ability, asking his crew members for help.

-He loves you so much and wants this to go as planned that he even asks Sanji of all people for help. Sanji takes care of cooking a special dinner for you two.

“Im only helping you cause its for y/n”

But secretly, he wants Zoro to be happy as well.

-When it happens, you two are alone on the deck of the ship, sharing a drink after the two of you ate the dinner Sanji had made for the two of you.

-When the time of the night came that he thought was right, he is sweating profusely.

“Can i talk to you?”

-You nod and listen as your beautiful eyes stare into his, causing him to stutter.

-He doesnt have a speech or anything, he believes the words should just come to him.

But they dont.

-He pulls out the ring and looks at everything else but you.

-He holds the ring out to you while rubbing the back of his head nervously.

“Marry me?”

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟑 — gojo satoru

synopsis. nobara is ill and what better way to spend your day off than trying to figure out who your teacher's high school girlfriend is?

wc. 3.5k

tags. gojo x reader, fluff, one suggestive joke, reader is in gojo's class, implied utahime x shoko, only half proofread

a/n. it's nearly midnight and im so tired and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow but I needed to get this done. I hope there's not too many mistakes <3 the ending is kind of shit but idc :) jk i do pls like it

previous part / next part / series masterlist

“are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”

nobara lazily lifted her head from beneath her duvet, orange bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead as she let out a series of harsh coughs. megumi winced from the doorway, inching back ever so slightly - he'd already brought in a couple bottles of water and a box of tissues, he wasn't looking to contract whatever flu-like disease she had caught.

she rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle antics and raised a weak thumbs up. “go on fushiguro, i know how much you're dying to spend the afternoon with itadori and sensei."

“haha,” megumi uttered with the most sarcastic tone he could muster. on second thoughts, maybe being sick for a week wouldn't be so bad. with nobara gone, there was no buffer for his teacher and classmate to pester. “call me if you get worse, you know the second years are useless.” 

nobara gave the younger boy a quick salute and small smile, “yes boss.”

she dropped her head back into her pillow and waited till she heard the door click shut till she slipped a little less than elegantly out of bed. whilst yes, there was no denying that she was definitely sick, she also had a mission she couldn’t give up on.

in the three weeks, four days and an unknown number of hours since she had found the dvd of her teacher in his youth, she had been putting all of her free time into trying to find you. megumi had been a dead end when she’d tried asking him about you again and, although nobara knew he had a soft spot for yuuji, she didn’t trust the pink haired boy to treat this situation sensitively.

initially, she’d even considered asking gojo about it but she decided against that pretty quickly. that could get awkward very quickly and she still had at least two years at the school. 

then, she’d moved onto searching through the school for traces of the alumni. all she’d managed to find was a single photo; one that included both kyoto and tokyo students. you were tucked into gojo’s side with your arm around shoko. geto was there too: him and gojo side by side as they always were in their teenage years. all of you were grinning and genuinely happy. where had it all gone so drastically wrong?

nobara wondered if it was geto’s fault that gojo’s class had been all but erased – an effort to forget that the worst curse user to live had in fact once been an aspiring sorcerer.

her next plan (and one she hadn’t full considered the logistics of completely just yet) was to watch every single video on the dvd because surely at some point, there would be some clue of who you were or where you’d gone. 

and even if there wasn’t, what else could she possibly do to amuse herself whilst she was on bed rest?

with a huff, she grabbed her laptop and dropped back onto her bed, tucking herself under the covers. opening up her laptop (her password being ‘12345’), she clicked unpause on a video she’d started the evening prior.

“–and that’s it basically.”

shoko waved her hands around, sat on yaga’s chair at the front of the classroom with a blackboard filled with scribbles behind her. it wasn’t anything legible, more like swirls and stars and nobara thinks that, if she looked hard enough, in the corner were two little stick men: gojo and geto. an unlit cigarette sat between her lips as she kicked her legs up onto her teacher’s desk. yaga clearly wasn’t in the room. 

“that made no sense whatsoever but woo! shoko!” you clapped, out of frame of the camera but enthusiastically nonetheless. the aforementioned girl narrowed her eyes at you across the classroom.

“that’s why i made a video, for you to look back on duh,” she tsked, nodding her head towards the camera. “plus it is easy. i expected dumb and dumber not to understand but you?” shoko patted away a few non-existent tears, taking on the role of disappointed parent and their once star student.

except you’d never really excelled in a class with two prodigies and shoko actually loved having the upperhand in at least one area of sorcery.

shoko picked up the camera, holding it upwards to give a full view of her outfit and hair – like it was any different to any other day she attended school. she swivelled the spinny chair over to an occupied desk, slotting next to it and moving the camera so that it captured all of you in the frame. gojo was sat down in the seat, glasses propped up onto his forehead as you sat sideways on his lap, unsuccessfully trying to decipher shoko’s teachings on the board.

“understanding reversed cursed techniques is way harder than understanding cursed techniques,” you tried to justify, pointing to the board that showed the squiggles that ‘symbolised’ performing a reversed curse technique. stealing gojo’s glasses and popping them on your own face, you popped a quick kiss to the side of his head, “plus, why waste my energy? you’ll figure it out so i never have to.”

“the things i do for you,” gojo sighed happily, dropping his head down onto your shoulder as his arms looped around your waist. the orange-haired sorcerer could practically hear yuuji’s gasps at the simple displays of affection and she almost felt bad for watching some of the clips without him.

almost.

nobara was never one for romance – drama, such as the fight between gojo and naoya, that was her scene. but even she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the teenage love between the two of you. maybe she should give her teacher more credit – there was more to the six foot two man than just his over the top personality and questionable teaching methods.

“this is meant to be an educational video! be less couple-y!” shoko complained, scowling and shuffling away on her chair again.

“oh, we could make it very educational,” gojo wiggled his eyebrows, the devious smirk on his lips only widening at your flushed expression as you tried to hit his chest. failing, though, as he isolated his cursed technique to uphold a thin barrier between your hand and the material of his uniform.

there was the teacher she knew – keen to annoy even those he loved the most.

shoko must’ve ended the video out of spite after his comment, because nobara found herself staring at a black screen. 

all that she’d learnt so far was that you couldn’t perform a reverse cursed technique as a teenager. maybe that was what killed you? if you were even dead, that is. but given the damage that curses can inflict on sorcerers, whether or not you were able to execute a reversed cursed technique could literally be the difference between walking away from a fight a little tired or in a body bag.

nobara coughed several times, picking up the open bottle of water from her bedside table and taking a sip to try and ease her scratchy throat. scrunching up her nose at the slight sting of swallowing, she clicked the next available video, not putting much thought into her choice.

it was you and nanami in frame in a library by the looks of it but if it was on campus, nobara didn’t know where. christmas decorations decorated the shelving units behind you – tinsels of gold, red and green, and hanging snowflakes. you were both wearing your usual uniform but you also had a santa hat on and tinsel lining your jacket.

“we’re the only two on campus,” you said quietly, “because everyone else’s parents loved them–”

“we couldn’t afford to go back for the holidays,” nanami cut you off, without glancing up from what he was writing. being from two non-sorcerer families was a disadvantage normally in terms of status and inherited techniques, but holidays were somehow worse. 

gojo had offered to help you out with a ticket back to your parents and had even extended an invitation for you to stay with him but you didn’t want to leave nanami alone (and although he didn’t seem grateful, he was glad you were there).

“it’s fine. academic comeback time,” you held up a book to the screen. being in a class with three exceptional sorcerers meant that studies were often sidelined to try and improve and perfect your techniques. holidays were usually your opportunity to catch up on the missed classwork and homework you’d fallen behind on.

nanami less so – if anything he was reading ahead. tokyo had never been renowned for academic scores until he’d come along.

“i don’t get why the camera needs to be here,” nanami complained.

“to record us study! it’s motivational.”

“sure,” nanami hummed quietly, reading over your shoulder at the work you’d already completed prior to setting up the camera. “that’s wrong. this is simple mutipli–” he paused at the sound of rustling and his brows furrowed as he tried to peer round the bookshelves. 

“merry christmas!” 

nobara snickered as nanami jumped at the sudden voice and appearance of three people behind him. gojo and geto were capable of masking their cursed energy (and shoko’s) so that they wouldn’t be noticed slipping into the library. although gojo had nearly screwed that up by pulling out a chair trying to trip up geto.

“ieiri!” you slipped out from your seat, running up and hugging your classmate. in the process, the camera got knocked so it was facing the ceiling. nobara frowned as she turned the brightness up on her laptop as if though that would somehow bring everyone back into grame. in the periphery of the screen she could make out just the heads and foreheads of the student sorcerers.

“hi satoru, missed you too satoru, so glad you came to see me satoru,” the white haired sorcerer pouted at the lack of attention and nobara is sure someone responded to him but the audio is muffled by two voices closer to the camera’s microphone.

“here!” haibara slipped into the seat next to nanami that you had occupied moments prior and held up a small wrapped box with red ribbon tied neatly in a bow. “i picked it up on the way. merry christmas nanamin!”

“thanks yu,” nanami smiled softly at his classmate. well that’s what nobara thought he did anyways, his eyes lifted into half crescents but she wasn’t actually sure what his mouth was doing out of frame. she’d never seen the blond so happy from a simple gesture.

she clicked off the video even though it still had thirty seconds left to go. it wasn’t much fun just watching people’s foreheads and she highly doubted that nanami was about to fix the camera’s position.

so you were from a non-sorcerer family and possibly not able to use reverse cursed technique. it wasn’t much but facts were still facts.

there was a little more deliberation before she chose her next video, settling herself back into her cushions as she waited for it to load.

the screen was suddenly very bright and nobara winced, turning it down as the surroundings came into focus. it was the inside of an arcade and the camera was pointed directly at one of those claw machines. inside were different sized plushies of spiderman and haibara was the one controlling the claw.

nobara could vaguely make out everyone’s reflection in the glass – to the left of haibara was geto (who was also the one holding onto the camera), gojo and you, and to his right was shoko, nanami and maybe also utahime? shoko had her arm around a blue haired girl either way.

“no! so close haibara,” you patted the youngest boy on the shoulder gently as the plushie he’d managed to pick up slipped from the claw’s clutches before it could be dropped down the chute and retrieved.

“can i try?” gojo asked and, from the annoyed groans, nobara assumed it wasn’t the first time he’d interjected.

“no, he’ll get it this time,” geto encouraged and gojo flashed him a look of disbelief. 

“if gojo wants a go he can have it!” haibara tried to step away from the machine but nanami halted him, slotting several more coins in the machine.

“take your go yu.”

“i’ll get you a slushie if you win,” shoko called out, clapping her hands together as he accepted his fate, hesitantly pressing down on the buttons as he peered through the side of the machine to get a better angle.

“haibara, haibara.” all of them were chanting his name now, and that was enough of a boost for him to finally get one of the plushies over the barrier and down the chute. the camera shook unsteadily as geto jumped and six of them crowded the youngest in a joint hug.

nobara could see yuuji in haibara and megumi in nanami and herself in shoko and she had to stop herself from tearing up. nanami and shoko seemed like strangers these days and she couldn’t even imagine waking up and yuuji not being the first one to greet her outside her room. 

we’ve got a mission here, she reminded herself, shaking her head lightly before moving onto the next clip.

“utahime, say hi,” you lowered the camera to the kyoto sorcerer’s height. she was sat cross-legged on the floor with a jacket flung haphazardly over her head to try and block out the sun that beamed down.

“hi!” utahime waved, smiling as you dropped down next to her. in her hands was a partially made daisy chain that she’d started to entertain herself whilst she waited for the tokyo students. despite being in kyoto, she’d always chosen to join yourself and shoko at events over her own classmates.

“who do you think is going to win the exchange event this year?” you asked with a raised brow and utahime grimaced.

“don’t make me compliment him.”

“are you implying that our edge is not because of me?” you looked at the camera with a disgusted expression, like you had the power to outshine the gojo satoru, she rolled her eyes – gojo’s dramatics were rubbing off on you. “for that i’m telling ieiri. you may be her girlfriend–”

utahime hit your arm and her eyes darted around for anyone that could’ve heard (like you were not sat alone in a field together whilst the others warmed up), “shut up! we’re not like that…”

you nodded with a condescending hum. “then kindly could you please stop calling her till three in the morning, some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“you’re only ever up at three am because you’re sneaking back from gojo’s dorm,” she retorted with a pointed look. you opened your mouth to defend yourself 

“true,” you jumped at shoko’s voice, swivelling your neck around to find the third piece of your trio standing behind you. shoko gestured towards your uniform jacket, “and if she pulls down her collar there’s a massive hickey i had to help cover up this morning.”

utahime erupted into a fit of giggles and you eyed the camera like it was some sitcom and you were breaking the fourth wall.

“you’re such an asshole.”

shoko pushed in between the two of you to make herself the middle. “you love me.”

nobara frowned as the video ended. while it wasn’t overly helpful, it reaffirmed the seriousness of your relationship with her teacher… but that was obvious from the lovesick heart eyes he constantly had in every video you were together.

although, she would have to show it to maki – the two had suspicions about the kyoto teacher and tokyo healer and this all but confirmed that they were right. 

nobara scrolled down till she found a thumbnail of you, geto and gojo sat around a table of food.

“zenin naoya,” you started, chopsticks in one hand as you held a bowl of food in the other. gojo pretended to vomit at the mention of his name. “yes toru, appropriate response, but have you heard about him and the kamo girl?”

geto nodded with a mouth full. “the one who studied abroad?”

“yes! her,” you waved your chopsticks in his direction, “anyways, she cheated on him.”

the dark haired sorcerer made a sound of shock, “they were together together?”

you nodded enthusiastically, offering gojo some of your rice. “mhmm, they got together new years eve.”

“that did not last long,” gojo snickered. nobara peered at the date in the corner of the screen in a retro, yellow font; 15 january 2006.

“best part? it’s not even the first time,” you revealed, picking up some salmon sushi off of gojo’s plate and quickly eating it.

“stop,” geto gasped and nobara was shocked. this man was a war criminal now, and yet ten years ago he seemed so far from it, gossiping like he was a teenage girl.

“which like i don’t get,” you frowned. “i dont know why he’s trying to save face over some two week old relationship. especially if she’s already cheated multiple times.”

“he’s just desperate because it’s the first girl to ever want to actually be with him.”

“oh yeah she really wants to be with him,” gojo uttered sarcastically with a sparkle in his eyes. he would have a party at the downfall of the zenin.

“are they staying together?”

“i think so,” you nodded, holding a hand over your mouth as you spoke and finished your mouthful. “it’s what me and shoko told him to do, well shoko. he facetimed shoko.” you clarified following gojo’s less than pleased expression. nobara didn’t doubt that naoya had caused some tension in your relationship (though she refused to believe it was ever because you had been interested in him) and she wished that you’d switch the topic solely onto that. that was the sort of drama she was after.

“youre telling me he facetimed ieiri to tell her he’d been cheated on?” geto could bearly finish the question without laughing and he shot gojo a look. “odds on him trying to make yn jealous.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting. “oh yeah because hearing all that made me want to leave satoru for that thing.” sarcasm or not, your words were taken literally by your boyfriend who draped all one hundred and ninety centimetres of himself across your body. “oh my god you’re so heavy.”

“it’s just my love for you in physical form. don’t be mean,” he whined.

nobara didn’t even have the energy to laugh quietly at the pathetic nature of her teacher as she felt herself drifting off. it was fine, she thought, only a quick power nap. she’d earned it, watching all those clips expended lots of energy.

“kugisaki?” gojo gently knocked at the young girl’s door. he’d left yuuji and megumi to do laps to check nobara was still alive and well. the illness had made its way through half the school already and while it obviously wasn’t something fatal, he knew better than to take any risks.

he knocked again and waited thirty seconds before he opened the door enough just to peek in and–

“satoru.”

gojo felt his heart drop at the sound of your voice. one he hadn’t heard in almost two years and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so unsteady and thrown off guard. the mere sound of your voice had startled him and gotten more of an upper hand than any curse he’d ever had to exorcise.

although his world had stilled, reality continued on and he was forced to hear himself hum in response. he didn’t have to see the video to vividly remember the day, to remember the smell of the grass and your perfume that were coaxing him into a nap that would make you both late to yaga’s lecture.

“do you think we’ll still be together once high school is over?”

“hope so,” he murmured, half asleep, and gojo wished his younger self was more aware, telling you how much he wanted to be with you, savouring every second he had in your presence rather than sleeping it away. 

like that could’ve changed the outcome.

slipping into her room, gojo lifted the laptop off of her sleeping figure (definitely still alive and breathing). with a press of a button, the disk popped out and he set the device onto the ground as he contemplated what to do.

he could break it in half, make it seem like an accident that nobara hadn’t noticed in her ill state. or he could use his cursed technique and completely eviscerate it from existence.

or maybe he could keep it.

gojo gave nobara one last glance as he silently closed her door once more, grateful for the blindfold he wore as he headed back outside to his students.

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen

this tag list is insane ty all for the support

[miss-tc-nova]

S/O Inexperienced in Relationships - TWST Housewardens

Not a day has gone by that I haven't been working on this. I'm SO sorry this took so long but I interpreted this in a few different ways and had to decide how I wanted to write it. But it's done!!!

Also, sorry for not using a fem!reader. I've apparently conditioned myself to write around that.

As for the question of my patience, I've answered that here, lol.

Premise: The Prefect is acting a bit odd

Words:

Riddle: 308

Leona: 357

Azul: 296

Kalim: 364

Vil: 351

Idia: 400

Malleus: 362

~~~~~

Riddle

Riddle has started to become suspicious.

You almost seem paranoid—second guessing every single move you make. The foods you choose, the clothes you wear, and apparently even the path you take to class. There is nothing that seems to get the green light the first time around.

At first he lets it go, seeing as it doesn’t interfere with his duties. But as the problem persists, it does begin to interfere in the relationship. This wasn’t a thing before you started dating.

He never thought he’d frown upon fastidiousness, but you checking and double checking that little book of yours has interrupted far too many activities and is beginning to irk him.

So he demands the book only to be stunned at the Queen’s rules written inside.

You had been spending hours upon hours trying to abide the Queen’s rules that Riddle knew by heart.

However, Riddle has recently come to terms with the idea that not everything has to be perfect—that people can just live. So while he admires your dedication to adhere to something he finds important, he’s concerned for your wellbeing.

When he questions why you would go to such lengths for this, you shyly, embarrassedly admit that you were afraid of losing him. You’ve never had many friends, let alone significant others. You didn’t really know what made a strong, enduring relationship.

But you knew the rules were important to him.

Riddle finally understands, warmth bleeding through his chest as a smile pulls at his lips.

“I don’t mind if you know the logistics of a relationship or not. What matters is that we build this one together. And while I admire your dedication to study the Queen’s rules, I would much rather you preserve your health. You’ll learn them in due time. Until then, please, just be yourself—my beautiful rose.”

~~~~~

Leona

Leona’s ire is growing.

This is not what he thought your relationship would be like.

Sure, he didn’t expect you to be throwing yourself at his lap or hanging off him, but to not even smile when he approaches you? If he didn’t know better, he’d say you weren’t even dating.

He’s starting to go out of his way to get a reaction out of you. Taking things out of your hands and pretending to examine them—sometimes returning them, sometimes not. Leaning against you, and if you manage to resist, he’ll just go limp until you crumple beneath his weight.

In some rare occasions, if you’re having a conversation with someone, he’ll just pick you up and walk off. Honestly, he’s impressed you haven’t snapped at him yet.

Eventually, while your attention is focused on studying, Leona snaps. He snatches the book from your hand and hurls it over the balcony of his room, leaving you stunned.

When you ask if he’s okay, he turns the question back on you. When you insist that there’s nothing wrong, he demands to know if you regret agreeing to go out with him.

Denying that accusation is not enough as Leona persists that you “don’t act like it.” Your retort turns out to be that you don’t know how to “act like it.”

His confusion finally gives you a moment to explain. You never had many relationships with anyone, including romantic kinds, so you have no idea what you’re doing in this relationship. All you really know is that Leona isn’t into clingy types so you tried your best to be the opposite.

It takes Leona a moment to soak in the information before he promptly tells you that you’re an idiot through a smirk.

“Look, I can’t say I’m a relationship expert but do what you want. Pretendin’ to be someone you think makes me happy is just stupid. And clearly not workin’ for ya, so you might as well go back to bein’ that person I asked out in the botanical gardens. Now get over here. We’re takin’ a nap. No, you can get your book later.”

~~~~~

Azul

Azul regrets his decision.

At first, he thought having you take on some of his responsibilities was a great idea. He didn’t even ask you to; you volunteered.

You can easily run the Lounge in his absence, scheduling shifts, obtaining stock, and whatever else that needed doing. Hell, he even trusts you to facilitate contracts on his behalf.

He’s thrilled to have the free time to look into new ventures.

Except, with all this free time, he starts to notice that you have none.

You’re always on the move, always writing, always busy. And it seems to be taking its toll. You look tired, the spark in your eyes gone.

Regret sinks in, mostly because he can’t remember the last time the two of you actually spent time together.

It takes several attempts to pry you away from your work to finally talk and Azul starts right off with reducing your workload. When you refuse, he persists, his suspicion growing until he finally asks why you’re being so stubborn.

You crack. The last thing you want is to lose him because you aren’t good enough. Friends, let alone partners, aren’t something you understand very well for lack of experience. Without that knowledge, you concluded that becoming as useful as you could was best.

A smile tugs at his lips as the man pulls you into his arms.

“My darling, I promise I’ll be just fine running things without you. But more importantly, I promise that nothing will change between us. And while most may find experience advantageous, I think I more enjoy the idea of us learning to be together, together. Now, I’ve taken the liberty of clearing both our schedules for the day. And I would enjoy nothing more than to spend it with you.”

~~~~~

Kalim

Kalim is…confused.

He loves you and he is absolutely basking in all the affection you shower him with.

But it doesn’t feel like you anymore.

Shortly after you began dating, you began fawning over him at every opportunity. Your arms were always wrapped around him and you always kissed his face when entering or leaving his presence.

The thing that really clued Kalim in to something being wrong was the constant smile on your face. You had a beautiful smile when it was genuine. But this smile is forced.

On top of that, you aren’t the kind of person to be this overly affectionate. It must be draining to keep up such an energetic façade. And the last thing Kalim wants is for someone close to him to pretend to be someone they’re not.

He mulls over how to ask you about something that you might find sensitive.

Then he catches you without your mask. You look tired and anxious. And he can’t hold it in anymore.

Ignoring your smile, Kalim gets to the point, asking point blank what’s wrong.

You deny at first, but he begs you not to lie to him. He cares too much and, after what happened with Jamil, he refuses to let someone else suffer in silence if there’s anything he can do.

So you tell him. You tell him that you were pretty much alone in your world, no friends or romantic partners. You don’t know how to act or what’s expected; you’re even more lost when it comes to dating a freaking prince. You can’t offer anything that he didn’t already have. All you have are your feelings for him.

Hearing your worries, Kalim drags you into his arms. Of course he’s happy that you would shower him with love, but he wants the real you, all the time.

“Mmm, I don’t really know what romantic relationships are like either. But I don’t think it really matters. It’s okay to not be happy all the time. I mean, I love seeing you smile, but I love you no matter how you feel. So please don’t pretend just for me. Oh, there it is—the most beautiful smile.”

~~~~~

Vil

Vil holds his tongue a bit too long.

Initially, he’s impressed by the sudden, significant effort you put into your health and appearance.

This included morning workouts, tracking every meal and drink, and spending hours making sure you look perfect for the day. Not a hair out of place nor a frayed hem—all the best you could do with what you had.

And Vil encouraged you. Yes, he noticed that you weren’t exactly thrilled with the new regime, but no one really is in the beginning. But he wanted to support you.

Yet the longer he observes your efforts, the more he realizes that this attempt to “better” yourself is having the opposite effect.

Sure, you’re more glam, but your emotional state hasn’t improved. In fact, you seem exhausted. You smile and act bright, but a true actor could see through it. He’s ashamed he let it get this far.

But he’s not letting it continue.

He catches you on the way to your next workout and gets to the point, asking why the sudden uptake of your rigorous routine.

You tell him you’d always meant to be healthier and just never had the motivation to. So he retorts asking what this new motivation might be.

This is where you hesitate, growing embarrassed. Vil’s gentle insistence coaxes your worries into the open. You were a loner in your home world so you have no idea how you managed to catch the eye of one of Twisted Wonderland’s biggest celebrities.

You gush about how perfect Vil is but you’re just you. You’re terrified to lose him, so all you could think to do is adopt Vil’s way of life.

A soft laughter escapes him as he presses a kiss to your head.

“While I admire your efforts to emulate my lifestyle, the last thing I want is for you to be miserable every day. You can make little changes; I’ll support your every step. But even if you don’t, you’re still perfect. And who has a better eye for perfection than I do? That’s right. You are my perfect, little gem..”

~~~~~

Idia

Idia may have missed his cue.

A new patch released on one of his games, so of course he was lost to the world.

Throughout the whole thing, you kept quiet, never interrupting his game as he spent endless hours hunched over his keyboard.

However, the moment that end credit scene concludes, the young man sits straight, rubs his eyes, and immediately notices a distinct lack of you.

Ortho informs him that you haven’t been around for a few days. Seeing as you spent nearly all your free time with Idia since you two started dating, that sounds suspicious.

When his messages receive no reply, he forces himself to trudge out of the dorm for the only person he’d brave society for.

In Ramshackle, he finds you doing homework. But as he opens his mouth to tell you about his fantastical adventure, he stops himself. Even as you look up at him, your mouth is shut, but even more, you look sad.

Awkward as hell, Idia sits beside you. He’s grateful for your courtesy of letting him enjoy his game, but even he admits that ignoring you was rude.

So he asks why you didn’t interrupt him.

Your shoulders shrug. Idia had been excited for this expansion. You’d never been in a relationship before, but it felt wrong to rain on his fun. Besides, you were used to being alone so you didn’t see a difference.

He stares, lips twisted shut. Then he stands and leaves, marching straight back to his dorm where he gets to work for the better part of two days—including shipping.

Then he returns to drag you back to Ignihyde. His cluttered room is a little more so—filled with empty boxes and wrappers. But right next to his desk is another, set up very similarly. Meanwhile, Idia himself fidgets, a tint of pink on his face.

“So, yeah, I was a major jerk for going AWOL and I totally deserve to be reemed. But I’d totally take being interrupted over tanking our relationship. ‘Sides, the OG you is way more valuable than any platinum. I know! Cringe! But, if you’re interested, maybe we can just party up instead? Yeah, it’s got the latest specs and I already downloaded the best RPG so we can play together. No worries, let Gloomurai show you how to stomp those other noobs! Why are you laughing? Oh geeze.”

~~~~~

Malleus

Malleus can tell there’s something, but isn’t entirely sure what.

The shift was minute, the slow withdraw.

All was as it should be when your relationship began. Malleus could not have been happier.

Then the creases worked their way across your face. Sure, you smiled with Malleus, but when conversation lulled, it vanished and your eyes turn downcast.

You always seemed lost in whatever concerns occupied your mind and, soon enough, even Malleus couldn’t regain your attention very easily.

Inevitably, he gains some clue when a song of praises of the great heir come exploding from Sebek’s mouth. As the freshman demeans another student for some trifling reason, the dragon distinctly notes your aura recoil. The floor has your attention and you’ve never looked so uneasy.

This worries him. All his life people had kept their distance, but to have the love of his life do so as well—he’s not sure he could stand it.

So the prince bides his time, waiting for a moment of privacy before his fear becomes unbearable. And with a heavy heart, he asks if his status has finally gotten to you.

You bashfully admit that it might have and he feels his heart cracking.

But you continue. Your experience in relationships is miniscule. You’ve only just begun to learn what it means to have friends but in romance your knowledge is woefully non-existent. The thought of maybe one day needing to lead a whole kingdom of people is terrifying. What if you mess it up?

Word by word, Malleus begins to realize that this isn’t about him or his status. He scorns himself for thinking you would care about that; nevertheless, it does ease his own worries.

Because he has nothing but faith in you.

“After everything that’s happened, it’s peculiar that you worry about such things. I may not be well versed in relationships myself, but I’m not concerned with whether or not you’re good for my kingdom. You’re good for me—perfect just as you are. And together we’ll learn and be an example of what it truly means to care for one another. Mm? Are you blushing? Was it something I said?”

~~~~~

[undercoverpena]

up sky, low high

frankie morales x f!reader | frankie morales masterlist

summary: frankie takes you on a heli-ride. you decide to test his competency and take him for a ride.

word count: 1.9k warnings: smut. 18+. there's mouth to cock action in the sky - new kink for jo? maybe. jo's interpretation of how to fly a heli is deffo a warning in itself. everyone is safe. remember he's a professional, but don't try this in the air bbys. jo’s spelling—written on phone, forgive me. moodboard not reflective of reader. an: this wouldn't be possible without @morallyinept who not only thotted with me, told me to write this, filled me with confidence at the halfway point when i sent it to her but also made the prettiest banner and moodboard for this (see at the bottom). babe ily, thank you so much for this.

It’s not ideal—not even close to safe.

Finger pushing in on the button that releases the elements of your seatbelt as you swallow, staring at him. Gawking, in fact.

Frankie always looks good, a fact not fiction.

Whether it’s first thing in the morning, sleep in his eyes—fingers scratching over his soft stomach as he yawns. Or when his eyes are hidden under the bill of his hat, dark, all mahogany brown pupils blown with lust as the thing on the television becomes forgotten.

And while he does always look incredible, there’s something criminal about the way he looks right now. Piloting, all in his element, wearing fucking competency like he was the one who first birthed it as he keeps the helicopter in the air.

Short flight, he’d said when he’d helped you into the rental.

Now, you could bet on it.

Because you're not even sure how long you’ve been in the air, too busy gazing, hungrily undressing him as he flicks switches and checks gauges. Your understanding of what he was doing lost, barely reaching a basic level.

What you do know is that if he reaches over, slides his hand up your dress and touches the fabric covering your pussy, he’d find them soaked.

But then, he’d also likely notice the way you’re taking shallow breaths, that you’ve been squirming for friction for the past so many instructions—

Because of his voice.

It all low, husky—dragged through gravel when it comes through the headset. Pointing out sights, places, but he’s the only thing you want to gaze at from this height. From any height.

That’s why the thought had arrived, to begin with, the lucrative one. The one so far gone that you try not to consider logistics and just trust in the fact he’d stop you if it was too unsafe. Your voice barely steady through the microphone, asking—layered and wrapped with demand, as your pulse quickens and your palms become slick with sweat.

You know the idea is ridiculous. Yet, somehow, you find yourself moving up onto your knees, digging them into the chair you’d just been seated on.

That’s when you see it. The glimmer, the spark, before he whines out that he’ll maintain altitude as you palm him over his cargo pants. Feeling him harden, pressing against the zipper, all thick, long and delicious as your mouth waters.

Because you need him in your mouth.

A thing you must murmur because suddenly he’s helping—lifting his hips as he whispers an oh fuck, when you drag his layers down and your hand wraps around his cock. More so when you move your wrist, dipping your head to slide your tongue to lick up the bead of want already there at the tip.

Flicking your gaze up, you find hungry eyes staring back—ones lit by the sun, shades a plenty making up the lust-filled gaze that makes your mouth open wider as you take as much of him as you can.

Fuck it’s glorious.

Both the thrum of vibrations through the cushion seat under your knees as he keeps the thing in the air and the feel of his hot length sliding against your tongue. As you take him. As you make him hiss through gritted teeth when you try to take a little more of him than you usually manage—tears springing in your eyes and your throat constricting around him—

“Careful, querida,” he soothes.

Large hand cupping the back of your head, easing, aiding, as his cock rests at the entrance of your mouth, placed perfectly on your lower lip. Breath coming back to you; eyes blinking as he darts his eyes from the world below him to you.

“You okay?”

Until now, you weren’t sure if it was possible to be more in love with him. Then he proved that even up in the air he thought of nothing but what was best for you.

Nodding, spit trailing down your chin, droplets falling to your chest where it pools as fabric meets skin, you smile. Gleam. Grin. Before making him swallow a moan as you take him again, his head falling back.

It’s then, when you hollow your cheeks do you feel him shift, allowing him, as he gently thrusts to slide his length as far down your throat as it allows. Good girl, so good, my good girl—

Humming around him at his praise, a blend of languages as he calls you pretty and perfect. And you can tell he’s close, taste it on your tongue as he begins to rock his hips, as he begins to hiss—teeth biting down on his lip, imagining his knuckles whitening around the cyclic stick.

It’s enough to make you come from the thought—close to ruining your own panties further as you press your thighs together.

Closing your lips around him, sucking and adorning, showing him, etching your love for him with the way your tongue swirls over the tip, hand gripping his thigh as he groans your name. It followed by s’close, m’close baby—

Then he pulls you off him, all with care. Spit connecting your lips to his tip as you stare at him in confusion. The line dropping, snapping—it clinging to the curls at the base of him, soaking his hair like dew on a spring morning.

“Frankie…”

It’s all you manage to croak out. Eyes wide, thoughts barely present, all cock-drunk and adrenaline-fuelled—the scent of him still there, around your nose, musk and engine oil.

“Need to land,” he replies, short, jaw tight—cock angry and throbbing between his thighs as he flicks a switch. “Can’t… can’t fuck you, unless I land.”

You’re not sure he’s ever landed so quickly, never mind so clunky. Remembering stories, how he gloats at his prowess at most of his land landings. But you have no time to question, think, or ask, before he pulls off his belt, headset and hat before reaching to yank you into his lap.

It’s clumsy—a mess of limbs, a tight squeeze as your hands skate around his neck. But you forget about it all when his mouth crashes to yours. Kissing you so hard and hungrily your teeth clash. His breath is hot in your mouth as he pants at the feel, likely tasting himself as he slips his tongue into yours.

And it’s warm, his tongue. Licking into your mouth, large hands around your waist brushing your clothed core against his cock—the hiss reverbing down your throat as you swear you feel him shake. Tremble. So desperate for you that it makes him quiver.

You love kissing him.

Could spend hours doing it. Not caring about jaw aches when you’re tangled up with him. Like right now. In some field, in some place—

“Need t’fuck you, baby. Can I fuck you please?” he asks, voice low, but tinged with a plea.

His hand balls up your dress, the other hand hooking a finger in to pull your soaked underwear from your pussy before groaning at the sight. “Hold them for me, baby.”

Swallowing, smiling—you do. Lifting, nudging yourself closer as your knees screech on the leather as you become full of molten hunger. Hovering over him as he eases the head of his cock to your slick entrance, sliding it through your folds, eyes focused on you.

“Can’t wait.”

“Then, don’t,” you whisper.

Then he hisses as he pushes in, right between his teeth. One that’s born at the back of his throat and makes an entrance into the air. Cuts. Slices. The sound so fucking hot that you clench around him when he bottoms out—mouth open in an O at how full, stretched and stuffed you feel.

“No te muevas—lemme feel you, baby. Fuck—”

Your smile widens—practically smirking. Shifting on him as the hand on your waist tightens its hold. But, you’re not listening. Even less so when you press an open-mouth kiss to his skin as you begin to move, to slowly slide your pussy up and down his shaft.

“Fuck, querida—feel so—good—incredible. Tu perfecto. Made for me, you know that…”

It’s layered—all in a breath; you answer similarly when you say that you do. Practically pressing it into the air as you pant, resting your forehead on his shoulder, as the two of you are quick to find a pace.

It’s almost drowned by how wet you are, how loud it is when he begins to thrust up into you. All aching for one another, practically feral as you feel your slick clings to your inner thighs—likely smudging against his skin as your fist clenches at his shirt. Clit brushing against the tangle of coarse hair, you’re soaking, that makes you dizzy as he begins to fuck up into you.

All deep thrusts. Making you moan—feeling nothing but good. Perfect. Amazing.

Just how he always makes you feel this way. Every, single, time—

“Need you to come, baby,” he strains, rasps, groans as you feel his hand—all expert, calloused in the right places—snake between the two of you.

It’s there, trying to disguise between letters: desperation. Despair. His touch confirms it, finding your bundle of nerves as he makes you gasp, arch, tighten around him as your hand finds refuge on the back of his neck. Your fingers slide into his sweat-soaked curls, smearing against your fingers as you clutch, grip and grasp.

And you’re aware of it now. How the cabin is warmer—windows likely smothered in perspiration—but it’s nothing compared to the heat of your body. It licks at your neck, at the base of your spine, the backs of your thighs that meet your calves.

But you’re lost in it, in him. Wanting nothing more than to come; unable to speak from how much you want to. More so as his hips cant up into you, as you begin to see white in the corner of your vision—as your body becomes more fire than bone.

Tightening around him as he shifts, an angle that makes you see fucking stars as you whine his name like it’s made of one syllable.

“—that’s it, querida. Fuck, s’good for me, I love—“

It building, so near to snapping as you hear him babbling, rambling. Your mouth is just open against his neck, moaning—the noise slipping out of you as it slams into you. His voice fading, the world going quiet as you come undone, all pulsing, all clenching down on him as it crests.

But his hips push you through it. Chasing, seeking. His pace is all sloppy, difficult, lost as you blink your eyes open to see the way his face is scrunched, lips over his teeth. And if you hadn’t just, you swear you’d come against from the sight.

That look of sheer determination, skin bathed in sweat before his eyes find yours—crystallising, glazed over and fucked out—

“Come for me, baby,” you whisper.

And his expression pauses. Relaxes.

Smooths.

His hand tightens on your hip, grunting out your name—burying it into the air as his hips stutter. Then, he whines. Spilling inside of you as he collapses back into the chair, you pressed against him, jaw all slack and his eyes clenched shut.

And you swear you can feel his heartbeat. It is all out of step with your own.

Not that you care.

Smiles painted on your faces as your eyes met his, breaths ragged, your finger wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

Before his lips slide back over yours, kissing you, writing gratitude against your mouth as the muscles in his neck flex under your palm.

an: look how pretty this issssssss. thank you so much, jett.

[tossawary]

Every time I see or otherwise imagine a Daemon AU (a story borrowing the concept of "physical soul animals" from the "His Dark Materials" book series), I get distracted thinking about aaaaall the logistical issues and cultural changes that would happen if the world was different in this way. Especially if it's a story that's set in the modern day!

Mostly, I'm distracted by cultural changes that are, uh, let's go with "silly". Like, I think people would put in cat doors and ramps for their daemons. I think people would put their turtle daemons on hot wheel cars and let their rat daemons drive miniature cars. I think some miserable people would be unreasonably outraged by "assistive devices" for daemons and call it unnatural. I think people would post online like, "I just watched my grandma's elderly dog daemon spend ten minutes trying to climb onto the couch." I think that there would be Tumblr polls asking: "Are daemons allowed on the furniture in your house?" And some people would be like, "Absolutely not, that's disgusting," and other people would be like, "Yes?! Of course?!?!?!"

I think some people would put their daemons in outfits. I think some people would wear MATCHING outfits with their daemons. I think there would be a huge market for daemon accessories like collars and scarves. I think you could find someone who would argue to their dying breath that putting a collar on your daemon is a form of abusing yourself. I think there would be daemons who would straight up hate wearing anything, especially the daemons of young children, and shed collars immediately. I think some people would get their daemon's ears pierced.

I think people would take photos of their daemons getting stuck in stupid places. I think people would take photos of their daemons making silly expressions. I think these photos would be used as memes. I think this would be included in the "don't take photos of strangers and post them online???" arguments. I think some people would try to get animals that are the same as their daemon forms so that their daemon could have a "friend". I think the exotic pet trade in this world would be horrible, especially in relation to modelling and acting industries, and that some people and their daemons would work as "substitute daemon actors".

I think that people would judge other people based on their daemons, sure. I also think that daemons are incorporated into things like astrology and matchmaking in ways that our world can't imagine. "Oh, I only date guys with dog daemons. Guys with cat daemons are too feminine," would be a constant sexist / homophobic sitcom joke and also a real thing people would say. There would be sex books written taking daemons into account and I'm not going to get into it more than that except to say...

The furry "discourse" that must exist in a Modern Daemon AU is operating on a level that we cannot possibly fathom.

Most of this stuff is not relevant for most Daemon AUs, but I feel like when doing any kind of cultural worldbuilding, we must face the fact that many people love and hate nothing more than to sincerely and insincerely get into extensive Twitter arguments over pointless bullshit. And also, on a lighter note, that "Draw yourself and your daemon!" would be a classic Day 1 of school activity for children. Confession blogs would have people saying, "My mom and aunt and grandma all have parrot daemons, so until I was four, I genuinely thought all women had bird daemons. When I met a woman with an iguana daemon in a grocery store, I asked her what kind of bird it was supposed to be. My mom has laughingly brought it up every few weeks for the past twenty years."

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | harness

pairing | daddy!dom!ari levinson x little!sub!reader

warnings | ddlg and dom/sub dynamics (daddy dom!ari and little sub!reader.) me not knowing anything about handiwork lol. reader struggles to ride. size kink. minimal foreplay (pussy rubbing, nipple play.) reference to rope play. p in v sex, protection unspecified. riding (with help lol.) safeword reminder. mostly sweet praise and encouragement, a little bit of mocking/humiliation tho (he calls reader a whore once.) they come together :D!!! orgasm from penetration. he comes inside. soft sweet reassurance/beginning of aftercare at the end.

word count | 1,284

an | kind of scared that people might not like this one, but i've had this fantasy for soooo long lol i just had to finally put it out there. something about a big beefy daddy laying back and casually tugging at a rope (WITH BIG ARM BC. I LOVE ARM) as he pleases to fuck his pretty little baby up and down along his cock, ,, it gets to me 🤤 also if you're confused by the logistics of the harness, i made diagrams 😭

thinking about daddy dom ari with his sweet little subby baby who has a hard time riding him (understandably!!)

you're such a good girl, you try so so hard but it's just too much 🥺 you get up there and he's soo huge you can barely take all of him. and even if you do manage to lower yourself all the way down onto his massive length, then you have to find some way to move yourself up and down along him?? poor baby, it's just too difficult 😔

so daddy comes up with a brilliant idea, he's gonna install some very special hardware in the bedroom to help with your little problem

he makes an entire day of it. mapping out the blueprint in a notebook, checking to make sure there's a sturdy ceiling beam overhead, researching the best parts to buy on his laptop as you lay comfortably at his side, snuggling into him

the harness itself he orders online, custom-made for your measurements. you're curious and ask to see, but he wants it to be a surprise. he makes a list of the rest of the parts and takes you with him to the hardware store. you get to ride in the cart as he's picking everything out 🥺

"you excited, baby?" he asks on the way home as you hum along softly to the radio. he's smiling as you nod sweetly, reaching over to brush back your hair. "gonna make sure everything's right for my little girl," he promises. "just gotta be a little patient when we get home, sweetheart. you can watch daddy work if you want"

you're a little intimidated when you see it starting to come together. he installs the eye hook as the system's anchor in the ceiling and puts together the pulley system with the sturdy rope he bought. he sees your wide eyes and comes over to kiss your forehead, promising, "don't worry, baby. it'll all be safe. daddy's making sure of it"

a few days later, the harness arrives in the mail. he brings you to the bedroom and has you undress, helping you into it. it's not too bulky or uncomfortable, but sturdy enough to be safe. your heart melts as you see the baby pink and white accents he chose. "so pretty, daddy!" you cheer as he undresses himself and climbs up to lay in the center of your shared bed

he gets you sitting up on his thighs, facing him. your poor pussy leaks excitedly as your legs are spread by the wide straps wrapped around your upper thighs. "you wanna play with daddy a little, baby?" he prompts as he softly begins to run his fingers over your bare mound

you take his big cock in your hands, teasing gently at it as he works your clit in circles for a bit with his thumb to warm you up. with the other hand, he's adjusting the ropes to make sure they're all untangled and ready for when he wants to strap you in for your first ride 🤠

his dick and your cunt are both twitching in anticipation. ari can see you eyeing the contraption a bit warily. "you're okay, baby," he hums as he brings a hand up to pinch and tweak at one of your nipples, making you whimper. the harness is conveniently designed similarly to a lot of your daddy's rope work, tightening around the breasts and thighs to keep you prone and in place

he waits for some of the apprehension to leave your face. finally asking, "you ready, sweetheart? you gonna let daddy setb you up in your pretty new harness?" your eager nodding is all the convincing it takes

he buckles you in with the safety-grade carabiners, giving the rope a gentle tug as a test. it jerks you up slightly, bouncing you on his legs. he gives you a wide, nearly greedy smile "okay baby, let's get you up on daddy's dick"

he tugs again, helping you up a bit into the air (though your legs are still resting some on the bed below) and moves you over with the other hand to position you over his hardened length. all you have to do is sit in the pretty gear and let your daddy do as he pleases. he positions his tip at your dripping entrance, gently easing you down onto him as he loosens the tension on the rope little by little. you let out such a sweet moan as you're filled to the brim, your eyes rolling back slightly in delight 😍

"shit, princess," ari takes a moment to adjust to your tiny little pussy swallowing him up. he tightens his grip on the rope, his voice low and rumbly, "you gonna be a good girl and let daddy fuck you now? that's it baby, just let daddy do the work"

he tries to go easy to start but part of him can't help it; he's been waiting for this moment for so long. he gives you a few pumps up and down on him at a gentle pace, but the feeling of you bouncing like that so effortlessly and the sight of your mouth falling open as your sweet little cries intensify quickly cause him to start acting with abandon

the system works so well, it looks like it's straight out of a porno. ari lays back, groaning deeply as he jerks at the rope at whatever pace he pleases. the way his arm looks when he flexes is so 😮‍💨each tug bounces your perfect form against him, your poor insides aching in pleasure as he rams right up against your ceiling

"d-... d-... daddy!" you sob, your little hands flailing a bit as you grow increasingly overwhelmed by his forceful pace

his eyes flash with a hint of satisfaction at your adorable undoing. "c'mon baby, you can take it. remember your word," he reminds you as he uses his free hand to gather both of your wrists and secure them tightly behind your back. you're left completely helpless, nothing but a living, breathing toy for your daddy to use

"d-daddy, it's s-so much... 'm gonna..." he's grinning wider as he sees your impending orgasm; it's rare for you to come from penetration alone

"oh are you, sweetheart? are you gonna be a good little whore and come for daddy? such a dirty girl, getting off on daddy fucking you like this"

"mmmhhh.... d-daddy!!" you're squealing as you squeeze down on his slippery cock. the sight of you coming like this nearly sends him over the edge, he quickens his pace, tugging more forcefully at the rope to bounce your poor little pussy over him faster

"fuck, baby. daddy's gonna come," he growls, tightening his grip on your wrists as his face contorts with concentration. "you want me to fill you up, princess? want daddy to come in that sweet baby cunt of yours?"

"y-yes please, daddy! please, please fill me up! please, want your come!!"

he lets go of the rope just in time, letting you slam down against him as he hits his peak. he grabs your waist to hold you firmly in place as his seed shoots up into you, your walls fluttering in sync with his dick's throbbing

when you both start to come down, you slump forward onto your big daddy bear 😮‍💨he's rubbing your back, whispering so sweetly in your ear, "good girl, so good for me, baby. so proud'a you, did so well. i'm here, sweet girl. daddy's here"

hmmm yeah i don't even care if no one else is into this, this is MY dream scenario let me have it 😭😭

[gremlingottoosilly]

About Lovefool fic...imagine this:

all calm in the house, not a sound. The basement is dead quiet, Konig is doing whatever he's doing in the house untill a very frighten scream is heard from his darling.

He run like hell, fearing something, only to find her press to the wall and on the other side of the basement a big RAT.

Konig had a bad day. No, he had a horrible fucking day. The mission was good - okay, the mission was fine. A few casualties, and a few failed goals, but most of all, they managed to kill the bad guys and save the good ones - but all the adrenaline and good feelings were immediately wasted on him when he got a scolding from a higher-up (became a fucking colonel and still getting scolded by the CEO like a fucking puppy). When he notices that his dear, precious, adorable darling girlfriend locked in his basement wasn't making a sound, which was unusual for her, he was even more concerned and fucking tired.

Your quietness could mean a few things. First - you could have escaped and are already on your way to dump his ass to the police. Unlikely, but still. Second - you could fall asleep. Which is also not fine because you're his girlfriend, you have to wait for his arrival home to greet him with hugs and kisses! Third option...you're hurt. And this is exactly why he is running to the basement, trying to find out what the fuck happened. Then he hears the scream. The main logistics problem of keeping your girlfriend in a basement is that basements are usually not suited to keep your precious little silly girlies. They can get muddy, get filled with critters, and...yeah, this is exactly what happened. Konig is torn between laughing and laughing even more as you whimper and cry, forced into the corner to get out of the rat's view. Konig slams the poor creature with his boot, picks you up like you weighted nothing more but said animal - and he is still laughing as you cry and sob into his chest, too scared to even care that he is making you press against him like this. He soothes you with his hands, brings you to the bedroom - maybe, this is what made him think about moving you up permanently. "Come on, Schatzen, I saved you here, ja? Think I deserve something nice for this" Unfortunately for you, Konig being angry and tired doesn't mean that he won't fuck you raw and make you ride him as a little prize for being such a good soldier and saving you from this foul, horrible animal. After an hour of getting all of your holes pounded(Konig also decided that his little act of heroism is a nice opportunity to try your ass) you would wish that you just killed the rat yourself.

[sapphicmuppet]

unresolved things still in my brain post fhjy finale

okay hihi this is not me trying to nitpick I just have a lot of unresolved thoughts!! okay here we go

Buckys arc:

I don’t have a ton of stuff to say just generally his arc being unresolved, being counted as a follower of Cassandra but that never being formally gone over, him still living with Mac and Donna, him skipping class, the drama with his adventuring party etc.

Bobby Dawn:

another self explanatory one, Sandra Lynn never finding out he was teaching at school, him escaping scot free, the drama in the sol pantheon, him never finding buddy etc. Just a lot of unanswered questions

Mazey Graduating:

for having a finale that has a lot of emphasis on the Fabian/Mazey relationship I wish they went over that Mazey IS a senior and graduated at the end of the year and is presumably going to college in the fall, and just the logistics of her being a college student still dating someone in highschool, just interesting having them get together when they’re already going in separate paths. I wish they went over it!! because now in my brain I have to justify it as a summer thing because they’re actively going to be doing other stuff the next school year.

Kipperlilly (and Jace):

okay so. Kipperlily was never rage starred or she willing took on the ragestar whatever I NEED TO KNOW MORE. Ik the point is that the ratgrinders suck and are inexperienced heroes but the realization that she essentially took all of The Ratgrinders down with her and gave them up to Porter, wasn’t being controlled by him in the way the rest of them were, had an even more direct hand in Lucy’s death, but also was still being manipulated by Porter for years?? I need it to get gone over. Also Kipperlily staying dead? to be clear it shouldn’t be The Bad Kids’ jobs to have to deal with the moral question on if the ratgrinders deserve being revived but there’s so much unsaid about Kipperlily and so much she didn’t get to do ugh. And in her final moments her absolute hatred towards Riz just being justified? In her eyes. Idk. Lots of thoughts. AND JACE!! Porter ADMITS to killing Jace himself and shatterstarring him and says he will do it again, but also Jace is clearly under Porter’s control to a degree and wasn’t revived too. I wish we knew more about him because as of what we know right now it seems crazy to keep him dead without questioning him and with him being Porters partner in this whole thing he could fully reveal everything Porter and The Ratgrinders had been doing the past three years.

Bakur:

idk just minor stuff with Bakur. He never regained his elf status which was interesting? We never saw the resolution of his fight with Lydia etc

Kalina:

Okay the acknowledgment in the finale that Kalina seems to genuinely have her own free will and moral compass outside of Cassandra is making me crazy because I just assumed she was tied to Cassandra so when she was good Kalina was too by default but there’s so much not cleared up about her. She DID lure Cassandra to the synod where she was weak and fostered the rage in Cassandra about Kristen’s treatment of her. She killed herself and was trying to communicate to Riz about Porter. Ankarna has NEVER trusted her. She had the spies tongue with Porter. She’s escaping with Buddy at the end. WHATS HAPPENING WHAT IS SHE DOING AGGHHHHH