#and in a situation that dire i would probably lean more on THAT

[cinematicnomad]

Would you rather be forced to eat human clothing or human meat? (From someone who is alright to eat and consented to it)

a wild question, but i guess i would go with eating human clothing??? i dunno, consent doesn't really play into my feelings on the morality of hypothetical cannibalism lol

i mean, if we're talking like, this is a situation like the donner party or the franklin expedition or what have you, and i'm literally starving and someone is saying it's ok? yeah i'd probably eat the leather boots first, but i wouldn't be shocked if i'd eventually cave to the meat option. i wouldn't be surprised if in a desperate situation like that i might lean on my catholic upbringing and rationalize it as being like the eucharist etc the same way the survivors in the andes plane crash did.

✨sleepover saturday✨

[nap-thym3]

Sebastian Solace(Pressure) x Reader/Self-Insert 🌊

Part-One /Fluff/1,886 Words

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Synopsis: In which when I first played pressure I just stood and stared at Sebastian’s character model for a solid five minutes. So this was born. yayayaya

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Army crawling on your knees and elbows, your chest rattles with your wheezing breaths. Truth was, you’d never been an active person. The most legwork you’d gotten in a day was typically at work, and even then, that was minimal. Suffice to say, being thrust into this shitshow of a scenario where running from constant threats was the norm, the situation couldn’t be anymore dire.

You wave a hand about in front of yourself, fanning away the disrupted layers of dust that fluttered in the cramped ventilation shaft as your rasping coughs bounce off the walls and create a cacophony of god-awful racket. You mutter a slew of curses to yourself, clapping your palm over your nose and mouth in a pitiful attempt to stifle your coughing fit. It would be just your luck for a nearby eldritch-horror to overhear your pathetic, asthmatic-self in the vents and drag you out by the ankles. The thought alone brings an electrifying jolt of anxiety through your person, and if you had the space you’d be looking over your shoulder in paranoia. Alas, the best you could do was put your jittering nerves to use and crawl just that little bit faster. Honestly, it was an accomplishment in of itself that you managed to shimmy-shammy your adult self into such a claustrophobic passage in the first place. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve just marched straight past the most convenient and inviting looking vent in the world. Probably assuming it to be a blatant trap. Except, you did know better. Just a few feet ahead lay maybe the only place in the entire bowels of this hellscape where you felt you were well and truly safe.

Crawling out of the shaft like an NYC subway rat, you’re finally free to hack up your lungs in peace without fear of death by angler. At least, no death from this one in particular. Blindly you lean back to sit on your haunches, eyes straining to pick up any movement in the darkness.

“Oh. It’s you.” Your shoulder’s jump as a voice drawls from the far-side of the room. Soon after, a gentle glow begins to illuminate the occupied space.

Now with your gracious host offering you visibility, you blink your adjusting vision over to watch as Sebastian seemingly just wraps up whatever file he’d been perusing in the dark. Before you can even attempt to try and sneak a peek at whatever he’d been reading, said folder closes shut with a swift snap. The merchant then carefully tucks the item away into his inner-coat’s pocket. A shame, your snooping has been so swiftly shut down before it ever had a chance to begin- you pout at the missed opportunity. Sebastian catches your longing gaze fixated on his coat, and gives a condescending little pat to the area where you know the concealed document is to be hiding. Wordlessly daring you to even try. Cheeky fish.

“Not even a ‘Hello’ or ‘How are you’? I could’ve been dying in there!” You bemoan in a familiar way of greeting, gesticulating between yourselves wildly as you saunter forward. Sebastian, unphased by your usual eccentricities, drags an unimpressed eye over your much smaller form. Analyzing. Probably looking at your absolutely filthy diving suit- sweat-drenched and caked in dust, grime, and maybe even a little bit of blood as it was. At least you assumed so, if the distaste visibly evident in his features was anything to go by.

“I was hoping whoever it was would die a little more quickly.” Was his dry response, before turning his head in indifference; seeming to have found whatever it was he was looking for on your person.

You scoff, “I see chivalry really is dead.” You gripe without any real bite in your voice. Already beginning to survey the merchant’s wares. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him as he begins to preen over his nails, pretending to be checking for dirt. Or blood, you didn’t know the guy well enough to say for certain what he did in his free-time. Your attention travels upwards, from his large hands up to his round face. The light emanating from his angler’s bulb casts an almost ethereal glow to his features. Especially with the way his eyes gleam that cerulean blue that’s quickly becoming a favorite color of yours. In addition to these qualities, there’s a very light sprinkling of bioluminescent freckles smattered across his cheeks. Sort of reminiscent to that of stars. Idly your fingers twitch, the sudden urge to reach up and map them like constellations startlingly strong. All these qualities make Sebastian feel so surreal, so out of this world. In juxtaposition to all of that, you’re confident to say that if he had the means, he’d be snobbishly turning his nose up at you right about now. The mental image brings a small, secretive smile to your face.

Sebastian rolls his eyes- or at least, you get the impression that he does. His lack of distinctive pupils makes it hard to tell.

“Are you going to actually buy something today?” He snips, cocking out a hip. “Or are you just going to keep gawking at me?” The merchant sneers through grit teeth(or maybe that was just his face?).

Snapping out of your reverie, caught with your hand in the proverbial cookie-jar, blood rushes to your head as you grin sheepishly up at his accusatory glare.

“Sorry, you’re just…” you wave a hand up beside yourself, willing the right words to come to you. Sebastian, amused by your silent floundering, quirks a knowing eyebrow at you. As if saying ‘Go on?’ The soundless goading sends you into a mental spiral- what did that mean? What did he think you were going to say? God- you don’t want to accidentally offend him, but you also don’t want to sound like a complete idiot. You gulp, mouth opening and closing a few times as you attempt to formulate words that will appease him.

Seemingly tired of you embarrassing yourself, Sebastian moved to speak, assumedly in an act of mercy from this sad display. Quickly, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, before he could beat you to the punch.

“You’re just really pretty.” Mortified, you clap your hands over your mouth. Yup. Those are. Definitely words that you just said. To his face.

Muscles tensing, you brace for his reaction. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, disgust, maybe? Mocking laughter, most probably. Any and all situations your brain can conjure up are absolutely humiliating in equal measure. However, as one moment drags into two, and the silence has still yet to be breached, you cautiously look Sebastian’s way. The sight that greets you is a rare one. The infamous Z-13, Sebastian Solace, is left speechless.

The Merchant’s smug expression falters, a look of genuine astonishment crossing his face. The dim light cast by his lure does little to mask the way his stature curls inwards slightly. A slight too much, in your opinion. You can see the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching- as though internally wrestling with a response. Just as you had been a moment prior. The knowledge that he was just as at a loss for words as you were eases the tension in your shoulders, if only by a hair. Miser so does love its company, after-all. There’s a brief pause, heavy and awkward, until he finally speaks, his voice softer than usual.

“Pretty?” he echoes, almost disbelievingly. He then swallows, visibly thrown off-kilter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called… At-At least- that is to say, not in a good long while.” The second half of his sentence is murmured, as if mostly said to himself. But you had overheard, and he looks as if to have noticed the way your brows pinch in a confusing whirlpool of emotions. Mostly sympathy, pity, among other emotions neither of you were too entirely ready to put out on the table. God forbid you two express emotional maturity and speak plainly like adults. Sebastian flexes his long tail, the serpentine appendage looking as if it were going to either pull or push you away. However, before it can make any progress in either endeavor, Sebastian, -noticeably uncomfortable- clears his throat.

“Silly little thing.” He croons, swooping down from his towering height to give you a patronizing pinch to the cheek with his clawed index and thumb. “You should be mindful of your tongue, hmmm?” As he speaks, his usual edge returns to his voice. Your head helplessly tilts side-to-side with the motion of his ‘affection’. Affronted, and a little whip-lashed with his quick recovery, you swat the offending hand away from your face.

“Jerk! I was trying to be nice!” Despite the biting words, you can’t help but feel relieved to be set back on familiar ground. Whatever emotional vulnerability present in the moment prior was slowly ebbing away, returning to your regularly scheduled squabbling. Sebastian chuckles, bodily retreating to his previous stature and re-clasping his hands before himself with an echoing ‘clap’. You rub at your reddened cheeks, whether their heat was due to Sebastian’s rough treatment or from an entirely other emotion, was only for you to know.

Sebastian continues on distractedly, seeming to have already recollected his composure. “Flattery will get you nowhere here, you know. But… thanks.” You think you see his eyes dart away for a brief moment, before locking onto yours again. A curl of his typical smirk splaying across his lips.

You gasp dramatically, a goofy smile erupting on your face. “The mighty Sebastian? Saying thanks?” You tease.

Sebastian waves a hand about in the air dismissively. “Yeah yeah, just don’t let it get to your head.” He says, crossing his arms defensively. He steamrolls on before you get anymore wise ideas to- eugh, compliment him. “Now hurry up and buy something already!” He snaps, motioning to the various goodies strapped to his person. Not having to be told thrice now, you hurry and make your selections. Eager to move on from everything and anything to do with word ‘cute’. Nothing major, just a few batteries for the road and a mobile hacker or two. Sebastian seems to approve of your choices, and if the price he demands of you seems a little cheaper than the usual- well. You certainly weren’t going to complain.

Getting everything tucked neatly away and ready to go, you begin to trek back towards the vent before being stopped once more by Sebastian.

“Oh! And Traveller?” He calls. With an answering hum, you look back to maybe your only friend down here. The merchant in question seems to look like he’s turning something over in his head, before continuing with a withering sigh.

“Try not to get yourself killed out there, alright? I’d hate to lose such a profitable costumer.” He sing-songs grimly. Despite the harsh words, you can’t help but notice a slight undertone of warm endearment. Feeling like a certified Sebastian-whisperer, you pride swells in your chest at being able to read between the lines. With a barely concealed snicker at his thinly-veiled concern, you toss a final farewell his way before retreating. All throughout the next dozen or so rooms, you journey forward with a skip in your step. Feeling invigorated with newfound determination knowing that a certain merchant was counting on your safe return.

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eeeughh I’m so rusty with writing. Like. It’s not even funny how long this took me for just a one-shot? Idk I might continue this, I just suck so bad at staying motivated for fanfics. Anywho, hope any fellow Sebastian enjoyers out there liked this, there’s not enough content out there of him👍 please make more content guys pls I’m starved for the fics puh-LEASEE

[zephyrchama]

(Obey Me! Belphegor and MC. The problem with naps.)

You were in trouble.

It had been several hours since you were able to move. Your legs were heavy, most likely numb. You wanted nothing more than to kick and stretch out your neglected muscles. The battery on your D.D.D. was running low.

Belphegor was deaf to the world, his nose buried in your naval with arms coiled around your waist. He was the world's clingiest lap blanket. Despite bending his knees, Belphegor's feet stuck out over the edge of the couch. You had tried fruitlessly over the hours to wake him, but things were getting dire.

You poked at his cheek. Slow and soft at first, but with increasing intensity until you reached a point where Leviathan himself would have recruited you for a button-mashing game.

"Belphie. Belphegor. Belphegor. Belphie. Belph. Belphegor. Hey!!"

You whacked his forehead with your D.D.D. There was no response. You sunk back into the couch cushions to create a bit of distance between your stomach and the demon's face. The next plan was to pinch his nose.

This was also futile. Belphegor clearly stopped inhaling and appeared fine, but such a length of time without breathing would cause brain damage in humans. It disturbed you. He was probably fine, being a demon and all. It was still concerning. You squeezed his nostrils until the excessive passage of time made you uncomfortable and let go. A couple of seconds went by before Belphegor breathed in with a loud snore. Any sense of relief was quickly and easily washed away by annoyance.

You groaned and leaned forward over the demon's head, placing your elbows on the edge of your knees to better cradle your face in your hands with despair. You balled your hands into fists, pressing them against your forehead, and let out a wail.

"Belphie, I'm begging you. Wake up."

Silence. You felt like you were going to explode.

"I have to pee."

You might as well have been talking to a large rock. The demon's weight on your lower stomach was not helping the situation. In an ideal world, you would have reached the bathroom over an hour ago. You leaned back once more and stared dismally at the sleeping figure in your lap. You were running out of options.

"Hear me, Denizens of Darkness. I am Master of Belphegor, Avatar of Sloth. Heed my call and do as I command. Get off of me!"

Wisps of magic curled up your arms, dancing across your neck and face. Its light made everything brighter. Traces of powerful energy - Belphegor's own energy - blew through your hair, whooshing past your ears. Belphegor was forcefully shifted into his demon form and rolled off the couch with all the grace of a baby chick learning to fly.

A deep rumble escaped his throat at the rude awakening. Belphegor lifted himself up in a daze. The fluff on his tail stood on edge as it swung turbulently from side to side. He clenched his jaw, barring his teeth menacingly. "What are you doing?"

You had already seized the chance to leap up. Only, your legs betrayed you. There was no strength to stand and you fumbled over onto Belphegor, colliding with his back. You both momentarily flailed on the ground.

"Explain yourself," he growled while you struggled to stand. Blips of magic were evaporating off your clothes, adding to the disorientation.

"Carry me!" you demanded. "That'll be faster, you've gotta carry me."

Even if you buckled your legs together to hold things in, you worried that wobbling down the hallway with jelly legs would be an impossible endeavor.

Belphegor looked at you the same way he would look at a diseased toad. With no context, he was wholly confused.

"I need the bathroom, now!" It was all you could think of. Magic started swirling at your wrists again as you began to chant, "Heed my words, in the name of the sorcerer..."

"Ok, ok! Wait!" Belphegor scrambled to his feet. He winced at the thought of being commanded again. His chest tightened, already afflicted by the start of your spell.

You had your knees locked together, digging your nails into your palm in a desperate attempt to hold your bladder in. It wasn't the best pose for being picked up. Belphegor did his best. He couldn't carry you in the elegant, suave manner he liked to dream about. Instead, he held you with both arms like an oversized bag of potatoes.

"Go, go, go!" Time was of the essence. He was slow to get a move on, so you beat on his shoulder with your fist. "This is all your fault!"

Belphegor blew a strand of hair out of his face. His expression was a sour frown. He was still cranky from being woken up. "Fine. Just hang on."

You don't get to see the demons use their abilities often. They like to play human in front of you. Unfortunately, with your head buried in Belphegor's hoodie and your mind occupied with other worries, you did not have the luxury to admire the way he bounded through the house with hardly perceptible speed. In just a few quick steps, not even five seconds later, you had arrived at your long-awaited destination.

You rolled out of Belphegor's arms and hastily slammed the door shut in the confused demon's face.

The Avatar of Sloth skulked across the hall to lean against the wall opposite the bathroom door. Now alone with his thoughts, he had ample time to get his mind in order and plan out exactly how to get revenge when you came back out.

[moonstruckme]

i don’t really request so idk if this is where i should be asking but I wanted to know if you could do a Sirius x reader story where Sirius is trying to ask out or “woo” the reader but she is rarely noticed romantically and sort of confused and surprised by sirius genuinely liking her

You nailed it, babe! Thanks for requesting :)

cw: alcohol, mention of vomiting

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

The smell of vomit has escaped the bathroom and is seeping out into the hallway. You scrunch your nose and try not to breathe. Or hear. Your friend is purging all the alcohol she’s drank over the last few hours with your other friend holding her hair and murmuring slurred but heartfelt encouragements, and because you’re a sympathetic puker you’ve been put on bathroom guard duty. 

“Sorry,” you croak when another person comes up to you. “This one’s occupied. I think there’s another upstairs, though.” 

“I’d really rather people not use that one,” he says. His voice is silky smooth. “Last time I allowed that, everything in my medicine cabinet had moved around the next morning.” 

You blink. “This is your party.” 

“I’m Sirius.” He gives you a smile and sticks out his hand for you to shake. His palm is cool against yours. There’s something disarmingly intense about his gaze, the way he holds yours the whole time you’re touching. “This party is one-third mine. I live here with my roommates.” 

“Right, I—uh—” You try to reclaim control of your tongue. “I think one of my friends knows one of your—James?” 

Sirius nods thoughtfully. “Seems likely. Is she in there?” He nods to the closed bathroom door. 

You feel embarrassed at the scene now, though you’re not sure why. “Yeah. She’s helping my other friend, who’s, uh…having a rough time.” 

He purses his lips. The movement accentuates his cheekbones, which you can’t help but notice are ridiculously striking already. They certainly don’t need the extra help. “Think either of them will go through my medicine cabinet?”

Your eyebrows bunch. “No. What?” 

But he’s already knocking on the bathroom door, cracking it a tad. He brushes a piece of hair behind his ear as he bends at the waist to poke his head in. It’s a deep, impenetrable black which moves fluidly like dark water. 

“Hi.” His voice softens as he addresses your friend. You imagine the situation probably looks dire. “She alright? It’s—no, it’s fine, babe, it happens. Would you like to use my bathroom? It’s a bit cleaner, more privacy. I mean, if you think you can make the journey?” 

Someone must answer in the affirmative, because then Sirius is ushering them upstairs. You take up the rear, providing vocal but cautiously distant support and trying not to gag when your friend does. 

“Well,” Sirius says, closing the door to his bedroom behind him, “that’s taken care of.” 

“That was really nice of you,” you reply. “Thank you.” 

“Oh, it was mostly selfish.” He grins, leaning over the banister to look down at the party. “See that broad-shouldered, smiley bloke in the middle of the couch, looks like he plays every sport known to man?”

You laugh and acknowledge that you do. 

“That’s James. You can see, I’m sure, how it’d be fairly easy for him to shake me about by my ankles if I let his friend kneel on the dirty floor of our downstairs toilet. Plus, now I get to keep the general public away from my bathroom and you don’t have to look so green and uncomfortable at our party anymore. Everyone wins.” He turns his head to look at you, eyes twinkling. “But mostly me.” 

Fuck, being in this guy’s presence is like being in a dark room with a shining star. You’re blinded by the sheer presence of him. 

“Did I really look green and uncomfortable?” you ask him. 

Sirius smiles like he’s trying to stop himself but not really. “I mean, you were obviously stunning regardless, but yes. You’re much improved now, though.” He nods downstairs. “Let me get you something to drink, doll.” 

You’re concerned you might be actually reeling, but you manage to nod, and Sirius takes your suddenly warm and sweaty hand in his cool one, leading you down to the kitchen. You don’t know what’s happening, how it came to be happening to you of all people, but you’re more than willing to go along with it. 

A girl named Marlene has requisitioned the party’s alcohol. She pours Sirius a gin and tonic, giving him a meaningful look and a smile when he turns to you to ask what you want and you squeak out “The same.” He hasn’t let go of your hand. 

“So on a scale of want-to-leave-right-now to best-night-of-your-life, how good a time are you having?” he asks conversationally as he guides you into a loveseat.

You clear your throat, doing your best to act casual. The most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen is sitting right next to you, holding your hand and talking to you like you’re halfway interesting. This night is ranking pretty highly. “That’s quite the range.” 

“Well, I want to allow for plenty of variance,” Sirius explains. “Earlier, you were standing outside our nastiest toilet and looking like you could be sick, so I might have interpreted that as a two and I’m hoping things have improved since then. What would you say?” 

You smile into your cup, hoping the lighting hides your blush. “Definite improvement.”

“Really?” He grins, sparkling. You try not to swoon. “That’s excellent news.” 

“Is it?” 

“Of course. I want you to have a good time, gorgeous.” 

Your heart does an odd, stuttering thing. You feel suddenly warmer. You wish any of that could be chalked up to the alcohol. If he keeps talking to you like this, you’re worried you’ll actually go into shock. These things don’t happen to you. 

“Why?” you ask, dumbly, before you can stop yourself, because you’re an idiot. 

“I mean,” Sirius swipes his hair behind his ear again, gaze dropping from yours for just a millisecond, “you might stay longer if you’re having a good time. I’ll take you for as long as I can get you.” 

His eyes have found yours again, but they’re different. There’s less bluster behind them. You feel the beginnings of a slow, shy smile spreading across your face. He actually does like you. Somehow, realizing his nervousness lessens yours. Maybe you’re on equal footing here.  

“I’m having a good time,” you tell him. “I want to stay.” 

Sirius mirrors your smile, and his charm is back in full force, but this time you can see through some of the smugness. It feels like he’s let you in on some sort of secret. “Thrilled to hear it, doll. Want to dance with me?” 

You find you really do.

[un-lawliet]

I recently found your blog and <3

I’ve been having some health issues lately and have been struggling so I decided to leave a request! Obviously don’t feel pressured to write! If the prompt doesn’t stick feel free to ignore!

High school Satoru X female reader who had a crush on him in for ages but she’s so shy and Gojos so popular so they don’t really interact. BUT she decides to bake him sweets and leave them on his desk and somehow he finds out it was her and asks her on a date.

CHEESY I KNOW >~< I feel like we don’t have enough fics of reader being head over heels in love with Gojo and it’s a must!

ANYWAY- again this is a ramble feel free to ignore MWAH

hi anon !!! id absolutely LOVE to write this ITS NO PRESSURE AT ALL :) thank you so so so much for the request- i hope you’re ok ! and i’m always here incase u need to talk <3

“Pretty.”

— in which Gojo has a secret admirer.

“Did you hear? Satoru Gojo has a secret admirer.”

“Oh Yea? Who?”

“Dunno, ‘pparently he’s going mad tryna find ‘em though.”

…

Your face was definitely burning, hands sweating and jaw clenched as you listen to the chatter of your classmates. Their voices morphing into the background of your busy mind, blending seamlessly into the slight disarray of (as you would describe it) your dire situation.

Blinking, you raise your hand to scratch the base of your neck, trying to pull yourself together less you reveal your crimes of admiration out-loud to classroom full of people who barely knew of your name.

You could see him, from where you sat, hunched over in your seat at the back of the classroom, your eyes squinted ever so slightly as the unforgiving sun spread her light through the window, gracefully imposing on your face falling directly into your peering eyes.

Leaning against the smudged glass of the vending machine, he had his head tilted back, laughing boisterously at a joke from his friend (the one who was always trying to hide the smoke from her lit cigarette)

In one hand you could see a can of soda you knew was far too sweet for anyone but himself, and in the other, you saw the small tin, decorated with the white and yellow details of pretty flowers and bee’s. Lid concealing the sweets in which you had baked just a day prior, sweets that you had hoped would act as a silent confession of your- oh you’re blushing again.

Your feelings for Satoru Gojo were undeniable, however unspoken. And you doubt you would ever get to a point where you would voice them out-loud to anyone let alone Gojo himself.

But you are unfortunately, still human, and humans have a tendency to want to be acknowledged, and after years of harbouring unheard feelings for someone, the bitter grasp of your own human desire overpowered your confident resolve of silence.

And so, you left a tiny box of chocolates with a tiny pretty note tucked in the back, with a silently cheeky “Enjoy” written in pink pen.

Glancing over to the vending machine once more, you watched as Satoru Gojo waved a hand in-front of his face, pouting as he tried pathetically to dodge the smoke blown at him by his friend, who grinned cheekily in response, flicking the now finished bunt towards the ground and stepping on it, moving her foot side to side to kill the remains of the flame.

You smile.

You had met Gojo two years ago, but had known of him far longer.

In the words of yourself (and probably everyone else who knew him) he was the epitome of perfection. Good in class, the best in any sport he took up and God he was beautiful.

Everyone knew him, the exact opposite to you.

You who quietly stumbles around her own feet, and apologises for even the slightest thing, despite it mostly never being your fault.

You were incomprehensibly shy, and so incredibly frustrated with your own reticence.

And yet two years ago, Satoru Gojo had asked you for a pen, you for a pen.

He had leaned back in his chair, during your math class, turned his head and nudged you instead of everyone else around him.

A pretty grin on his face as he sheepishly explained that he forgot to bring his own, and you had stammered and nodded handing him a pen as you gently said “You can keep it for the rest of the day, I don’t mind.”

“Huh? You serious?” He had replied, his head cocking slightly eyes crinkling under his sun glasses.

“Yea? I mean uh- yes!” Looking away from his gaze shyly. “It’s just a pen you know? I have plenty.”

He laughed, and you couldn’t help but look right back at him, your heart basically stopping as he winked, right at you.

“Thanks pretty.”

And your sure you had died, right then and there. Watching the back of his head as he turned back around, uncapping your pen as he moved.

Since then, Gojo had always smiled at you when he saw you walking past, and always without fail, you would sheepishly smile back, the familiar feeling of butterflies tickling the confines of your stomach every damn time.

The shrill sound of the bell rang throughout the classroom, and you stand up, taking your books with you with a sigh.

The clatters of chairs and bags zipping filtered through your thoughts and pulled you out of your self induced daydreaming stupor, calling you to join the rest of your classmates in exiting the confines of your classroom.

You glance back out the window once more before you move towards the door, and instantly your eyebrows lifted and you almost loose grasp of your balance as Gojo Satoru stares right back at you.

Simultaneously he smiles, lifting a hand as if greeting you and you scramble away from the window, head down, entirely embarrassed.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

Could you be anymore useless in your “acting cool” facade.

Ever since you had placed your sweets on Satoru Gojo’s desk you had been a nervous wreck, terrified that at any second your feelings would be exposed and the entire school would point and laugh at your sweaty, flushed face.

Sniffing, you rub your eyes with the heel of your hands, trailing behind your peers through the halls, on their way home.

The lockers were always so crowded at the end of the day and you hated it.

You had no group to hide you from the conversations involving Gojo and his “secret admirer” have to hear every single in and pretend not to care.

“It’s creepy don’t you think? I mean why not just tell him you like him?”

“Maybe they’re nervous?”

“Of course they are? It’s Satoru Gojo for Christ’s sake, man’s beautiful.”

You close your locker, clutching the books and papers you need for your later homework, your bag left abandoned on the floor beside you.

Turning to reach for your bag, you feel another student collide into you. Your books crash to the ground, and you stare mortified as pages fly out, scattering everywhere.

The student doesn’t stop, just calls out that he’s sorry and that he’s late for a bus, you sigh.

You have to drop out, you think, there’s no recovering from this.

You bend down, apologising quietly to those around you who just glanced at you and continued on their way, and start to gather all your papers and books, heat burning your face.

“You ok?” You heard him just before you saw him, his teasing voice making your hands shake.

Satoru Gojo stood, a smile on his face as he leaned down to get closer to you, your eyes widen and you lean back on your knees.

“Um, yea-Yes everything’s good here..just dropped my stuff..” You trail off and end your broken speech with a fake, ugly laugh, internally you die as he nods and bends down to help.

“No, no you really don’t have to do that, I can manage!” You exclaim, hands moving rapidly in-front of you and he just laughs.

“I don’t mind helping ya, ‘kay?” He’s picking up random papers, no longer looking at you, his eyes glossing over your hand writing- a cheeky grin that you do not see flickers across his face.

You’re in a trance, watching as Gojo helps you, jumping when he glances at you and catches you staring, you busy yourself with stacking your books back into your bag, “Ok well, If you’re sure.”

“M’sure.” He’s handing you a stack of papers, ‘I’m very sure.”

The locker area door closes, signalling the absence of everyone else, you gulp.

“Suprised nobody helped you.” Gojo muses, standing up and raising a hand for you to hold.

You blush as you grasp it, it’s warm, you hope your palms aren’t sweating.

“It’s home time, people wanna get home.” You smile, rising to your feet using his hand has leverage.

Gojo let’s his hold linger before he lets go, you don’t notice, too focused on readjusting your top, fiddling with the fabric.

His sunglasses fall down his nose a little revealing the crystallised blue of his eyes, you swear the light causes them to glow as it catches his pupil.

You smile, eyes corrugating with what you hope looks like appreciation.

“Thanks Gojo.” And he smiles right back at you.

“Hey you know..” Gojo says, turning to ruffle in his bag, your eyes follow his movements, you watch as he pulls out a familiar box.

“Someone left these in my desk this morning, they’re really good..You wanna try?”

Your heart stops in your chest.

Your sure you’re bloods turning blue in your arteries.

Act casual, casual Y/N.

“O-oh that’s nice of them.” You mumble, your voice breaking slightly.

He offers you the box again, shaking it slightly to entice you with your own chocolates.

“Um are you sure? I don’t wanna take something that was made for you..” You look away from his sweet face to stare at the floor, then the ceiling and then back to the floor, there’s a crack right below your shoe.

Someone should really fix that.

“Oh come on! They taste great.” He grins, taking a chocolate and popping it into his mouth, letting out a dramatic “Mmm” as he chews.

“I’m sure they are..” You scratch your arm and then move your hand to the box, reaching in.

Your chocolates do taste nice, but you knew that already. Your taste testers from yesterday remaining as memory to your taste buds.

“Well?” His voice is teasing again, and you smile at him.

“They’re delicious.”

“Mhm.. and you know what else?”

He’s leaning closer to you, you try to stop yourself from leaning away, pushing aside your inane awkwardness, willing yourself to stay where you stand.

“They left a note too, wrote it in a pretty pink pen.”

“Oh?..How, how very uh- nice? of them.” You’re scrambling for sentence structure, staring at his stupidly handsome face.

He takes a page from your arms, and turns it towards himself, then lifts your note from out of his pocket.

Your eyes widen in realisation, and you step back, head turning to the door.

“Oh well, I have to go haha..” You trail off, shoving your stuff in your bag and beginning to walk to the door.

“You made me chocolates?” He asks, and you freeze, your eyes falling back onto him, and the soft face he regards you with.

He had turned the note and your paper around, your handwriting obviously present on both, you chastise yourself for such a huge oversight.

How can you deny it now? Oh God He has you cornered.

Embarrassment bubbles in the back of your throat and you desperately try to explain.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt, hands reaching out in-front of you as if begging him to hear you out.

“Huh-”

You don’t let him finish.

“I didnt mean to come off creepy, it’s just I- Well I- I think you’re really sweet, and you- You smile at me..sometimes, I just wanted you to let you know? And I’m sorry for how-”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He says, his face falling, “You don’t need to apologise for nothing, I’m not mad.”

He walks towards you, “I’m just glad they came from you, that’s all.”

Hope? Is that what you’re feeling right now?

You dare to look at him, only to see him already looking at you.

“I-”

“I ‘smile at you sometimes’?” He nudges, “You made me chocolates cause I smile?”

“..It’s a very nice smile.” You reply, head dropping.

He’s laughing, it’s a sound that makes your heart flicker, and warms your chest, scarce of mocking you feel yourself breathe normally again.

Gojo tilts his head to look at you, his face glowing with joy, as he asks, “I was planning on going to the cafe just down the street..Wanna come?”

You pause.

“What.”

Standing up straight, he hands you the note and your papers, you hold them and stare.

“A date, I’m asking you on a date Y/N.”

Is this real?

Is this happening?

“Are you serious?” Your voice comes out shocked and slightly higher than normal, you don’t understand.

“They’re very nice sweets.” He repeats with a grin “And they come from a very nice girl no? Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“I- I just-”

Gojo, pulls the strap of your bag off your shoulder and slings it over his own, walking towards the door.

“C’mon let’s go pretty.” And he’s looking back at you, waiting “Else you won’t have a bag for tomorrow.”

You jump and follow, eyes still wide and mouth slightly parted.

And Gojo pulls you towards him the second you get close enough to touch, grasping your hand and tugging you with him, a soft smile on his face as he does so.

All is well.

masterlist <3

feel free the leave a request <3

a/n : all is not well, i’m sick as all balls right now- thank you my dear for the request..i know it’s taken me about 58 years to write this but i hope you enjoy it <33 i loved writing it and sorry for the wait. i love you !!!

[sweetlyskz]

Emerald Gem||Chapter Six

Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|Chapter seven|Chapter eight|Chapter nine|Chapter ten

Hybrid!OT7 x Fem!Reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one to talk to but the cows and pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stumble upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: SUGGESTIVE, some language, harsh themes

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Tags list is now CLOSED! Thank you guys for loving this pic <3 lots more to come soon!

Unedited

Your dinner was getting cold. For some reason, you couldn’t pick up the fork. Your hands were too busy gripping the table, bewildered by the sight in front of you.

“Are you going to come greet us or just sit there?” Yoon teased, showing that gummy smile you missed so much. The others were behind him, Jimin laid on Taehyung’s back. You could tell they had been through hell and back. Jin could barely stand on his own two feet, leaning on Hobi for support.

“I- what are you guys doing here?” You never thought you would see them again. Now that they’re here in front of you, you don’t know what to say. Even after all that time practicing what to say if they came back.

Im sorry. Please stay. I missed you.

Instead, you asked “Where’s Namjoon?”

The smile on Yoongi’s face quickly turned into a frown, telling you all you needed to know. Maybe you couldn’t do anything to convince him to stay, maybe Joon was just a lost cause- that’s what you tried to convince yourself anyway.

“I’m so sorry-.” You tried to apologize but Jungkook quickly shut it down with a quick embrace. As soon as you felt his arms wrap around your waist you were at ease. But once he pulled away, you yearned for more. It was just a second, but you still craved it nonetheless.

“Don’t apologize when you have nothing to be sorry for. He made his bed. Now he has to lay in it.”

“Speaking of beds”, Jimin interrupted, apparently lucid enough to speak clearly. “May I go to mine? I haven’t had a proper sleep in weeks…”The guys chuckle at Jimin lack of consciousness. It made you smile knowing they could laugh in dire situations. It comforted you, hearing Jimin call the bed his. It was his bed.

This is his home.

***

After eating dinner, everyone went there separate ways. They were probably looking forward to having a nice, cozy bed all to themselves. You laid in bed trying to rest, but your mind wouldn’t allow it. Yes, you were happy to have the six wanted hybrids back home, but every time you thought about Namjoon your stomach turned from worry. Apparently you weren’t the only one.

“Hey Y/n?” The Bunny hybrid stood in front of your bedroom door holding his favorite black and blue pillow.

“Hey Kook”, you leaned against the headboard, getting a better look at him. He looked frazzled, like there was something on his mind. You know that look all too well. “Can’t sleep?”

He nodded, making his way to the unoccupied side of the bed. He laid down next to you, getting as close to you as he could while holding his pillow to his chest.

“Worried about Namjoon”, he whispered into his pillow. “Never been anywhere without him. Im scared…”

You gently removed the pillow from his chest, replacing it with your warmth. Jungkook immediately relaxed in your embrace, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You felt like home- nice and warm. You were familiar to him, someone his could call his. Yes, he had the guys, but he grew up with them so it was different. The bond he built with you was new, and easy.

You placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, rubbing his back soothingly. “I know”, you whispered. You of all people know what it’s like to lose someone. You know the feeling of curiosity, the feeling of wondering where your person may be.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find him… I promise.”

You continued to rubbed Kook’s back, soothing him to sleep. There in the darkness, you both laid. It was quiet- serene.

“How did we get so lucky?” He murmured, eyelids fluttering on the brink of sleep. “What did we do to deserve you?”

He fell asleep before you could respond, before you could find the words to answer him. But his question kept you up all night, looking for the right words. How do you tell the person you just met that you’re falling? How do you explain to him that it’s you who was lucky enough to find seven incredibly selfless people.

“You deserve the world”, you whispered, finding comfort in his unconsciousness. “All of you do..”

“I love you. More than you know...”

***

You expected jungkook to be gone when you woke up, but there he was- still laid in your arms. He looked peaceful. Even with the cuts and bruises on his face, he was beautiful. And there it goes  again- butterflies in your stomach. It was a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. The feeling was warm and comfortable, but also scary.

But you couldn’t lay in bed all day, admiring all of Jungkook’s features. The farm needed tending to, and breakfast needed to be made. When you went to sit up, a pair of hands quickly pulled you back down.

“Don’t leave yet”, he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Kook”, you sighed, pretending to be irritated. “I’ve gotta go cook and feed the animals. You can come help if you want.”

He shook his head, pouting like a sad little kid. “Hobi already tended to the farm and Yoon made everyone breakfast. Now, lay down with me please.”

“Oh” was all you could say. You didn’t have any other excuse. The guys made sure of that. So you let him cuddle you, the way you did him. And for a while, you laid in his arms peacefully.

“You trust me tight?” Kook questioned.

“With my life”.

He scooted closer to you, putting his head in the crook of your neck. You could feel him breathing on you, making you nervous.

“Just trust me, okay?”

You nodded. “O-okay.”

Taking his sweet time, he placed gentle kisses from your neck to your ear. It had you squirming in anticipation, wondering where his lips would move to next.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now”, he breathed by your ear, running a hand up and down your waist. One hand made its way to your breast, messaging it through your night shirt. You gasp at the sudden feeling, giving him room to connect your lips with his. The kiss was soft and gentle, yet it still made you’re mind go blank. “Namjoon would loose his mind if he knew.”

You pushed away immediately after hearing his name. Namjoon, their pack leader. What would he think about the pack maknae comforting you in your bed? Your stomach turned just thinking about it.

“I should probably go check on the others, it’s a little too quiet”, you thought up an excuse, leaving a dumbfounded Jungkook in your bedroom.

***

As you walked down the creeky stairs, the aroma of pancakes and syrup surrounded you. When you entered the living room, four hybrids sitting on the couch devouring their plate.

“Oh! You’re awake!” Hoseok beamed. “Yoon thought we should wait for you to come down, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s okay”, you smiled. The smell of the morning breakfast was making your stomach growl. Jimin scooted to the edge of the couch, making some room for you to sit.

“Here, grab your plate and you can watch with us”, he offered. The Saturday cartoons were on, Tae’s favorite. Tom and Jerry always made him laugh, and don’t even get him started on road runner.

“Sorry, I can’t. Lots of farm work to do. But let’s play a game outside later!”

Jin, lying down on the other side of the couch, pointed a finger at Hoseok. “Hobi already did it! The silos are full and the chicken coops are clean! I fed the animals too!”

The stairs creaked once more. Jungkook, with his doe eyes and fluffy hair, entered the living room. “Good Morning”, he greeted in his raspy morning voice.

You could feel the butterflies again.

“You sure slept well, didn’t you?” Jimin smirked. “You might want to adjust your self, kook. It’s looking right at me.”

He glared at jimin. “What are you ta- Oh shit.”

If Jimin didn’t say anything, you would’ve never noticed, but now you can’t unsee it- the tent in the bunny hybrids pants. The others laughed at him while you blushed feverishly. 

“What were you dreaming about kookie?” Tae teased the youngest.

“More like who was he dreaming about?” Hobi joined in. You couldn’t even think straight. Instead of joining in the taunting banter, you decided to quietly grab a seat and try to wipe the red off your face.

But Jungkook wasn’t going to let you get away so easily.

“Blame Y/n! It’s her fault”, He exclaimed with his back turned adjusting himself. Suddenly all eyes shifted to your side of the couch, and you could no longer hide your embarrassment. And with the embarrassment was also shock.

“I- I didn’t! We never-“ You stuttered trying to find the right words. Was there any right way to explain how you made their pack mate hard? Probably not…

“You worry too much”, Kook huffed, slightly irritated. “You’re our family now. I’m as just as close to you as I am my pack. You practically are apart of us now!”

You tugged at the loose string on your shirt, eyes on the floor as if you had just been scolded. “But Namjoon-“

“Joon will come around eventually”, Jin interjected. “He knows where home is. He’ll make his way back to us soon.”

***

The room felt cold, ice cold. And even though he hadn’t opened his eyes yet, he already knew where he was.

“No! Please, Not again!” Joon begged, body trembling.

The men in white lab coats laughed. “You’re lucky you still alive. We can keep it that way, too! Just tell me where the others are and no one has to get hurt.”

Namjoon laid on the cold white floors, gripping the metal bars caging him in. If the bars weren’t there, everyone in the room would’ve been dead, by his hand. Just hearing the sinister laugh of the people who hurt his pack made him want to tear them into shreds.

“Fuck you!” He spat. He banged and beat on the cell bars, but It was no use. He couldn’t break them. And now he’s in a situation he cannot escape.

And now he’s silently calling you for help.

Please, he begged. Save me!

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[cutielando]

Hi! So I'm a one-to-one teacher and it's. . . A lot. Especially the extra work once school hours are actually over and sometimes (all the time) it gets very overwhelming and I cried over it last week so if you could write something to do with this and a very concerned boyfriend!Oscar I would be eternally grateful! Maybe he comes home in the early hours from a race to find reader still awake and planning lessons? Grazie grazie! 🫶

teacher things | o.p.

my masterlist

Ever since you were a little girl, you had always dreamed of becoming a teacher. You loved kids, especially interacting with them and teaching them all kinds of new things.

It was safe to say that becoming a teacher had been your greatest accomplishment. 

Oscar had supported you from the first time you told him about your aspirations, being with you every step of the way when things got hard and you needed a shoulder to cry on.

And even though there was nothing you would rather be doing in life, you were so tired. It felt like every waking moment was spent either in school, or hunched over your desk at home, planning the days ahead and grading papers.

You were exhausted, the dark bags under your eyes a statement to support that claim. 

You had kept Oscar in the dark of your state for a couple of weeks, knowing that his focus would be completely thrown off balance if you had just mentioned how busy you had been and how little sleep you had got. 

But now, Oscar was coming home for the summer break, and you knew you couldn’t hide anything from him anymore. Even up until then, you were almost certain he had figured out something was bothering you, but chose not to say anything until he came home and got a good look at you.

The last time you had talked to Oscar was before he boarded his flight, which had been more than four hours ago. You hadn’t even felt the time tick by, too engrossed in your work to even look at the clock.

Oscar had been worried the entire flight back home. He had felt something was wrong every time you two spoke on the phone. He knew how dedicated you were to your job and how much you loved it, but he also knew how much stress you were under and how easily you got lost in the amount of work that you had. 

Which is precisely why he knew he would find you in a dire situation when he got home. Knowing that, he decided to stop by a few places before he got home to buy some things to cheer you up.

Firstly, he stopped by your favorite restaurant and bought you your favorite meal, knowing you had probably been skipping meals more than he would have liked. After that, he stopped at a candy shop and bought some candy to indulge your sweet tooth, something that always helped you concentrate. His last stop was at the local flower shop right down the street from your apartment, buying you a big bouquet of your favorite flowers.

Arms full, he unlocked the front door and silently made his way into the apartment, not surprised when he noticed all of the lights turned off except for the one in the living room where you preferred to work.

He sighed, deciding to put everything in the kitchen and take care of you first. 

With silent steps, he slowly walked towards the living room, making sure not to startle you. You always completely zoned out when you were working and got spooked easily, which is not something Oscar wanted to add to your plate.

Thankfully, you hadn’t been working in that particular moment, only resting your head in your hands and massaging your scalp in order to help soothe the headache you had been supporting for 2 hours now.

“Babe?” Oscar softly called out, smiling sadly once he heard you hum, but not raise your head. 

He stopped right next to your chair, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. He leaned down, planting a kiss on the top of your head, an action which finally prompted you to raise your head and look at your boyfriend.

Oscar had been readying himself for the sight he was bound to see when he got home, but it was even worse than what he had imagined. Your eyes were red and puffy, the bags under your eyes worse than he had ever seen them, your hair was tied in a very messy bun, but the most alarming thing to him was your wobbly lip and your eyes filled with tears threatening to escape.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” he asked, crouching down in front of you and taking your face in his hands. 

You didn’t say anything, not trusting your voice not to break as soon as you opened your mouth. Instead, you let yourself fall into his arms, burying your face into his neck and inhaling the scent you had missed so much while he was away, the tears you had been pushing down for weeks finally coming to light.

Oscar wrapped his arms around you, squeezing your waist and pressing kisses to your neck. He didn’t say anything, figured there wouldn’t be anything he could say that would make you feel better in that moment. He realized you just needed to get everything out of your system, all the feelings you had been pushing down because you had been so busy to even let yourself feel the stress you had been subjecting yourself to.

Gradually, your sobs began to quiet down and your tears stopped running down your cheeks. It felt so good to finally get everything off of your chest, the tears that had longed so much to finally be let free.

You slowly pulled away from Oscar, wiping your tears with the sleeves of the hoodie you had stolen from his closet.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly, not wanting to pressure you into talking about what was on your mind if you didn’t want to.

You thought about it for a moment before you sighed and hung your head.

“I’m just so tired. The kids at school have been more tiring than usual, the principal is being a bitch to the entire staff, I have so much stuff to organize and prepare and papers to grade and I feel like I can’t do everything and it’s just too much” you vented, sighing in relief at the end as the weight had finally lifted from your shoulders.

Oscar smiled sympathetically, knowing how passionate you were about your job, but how demanding and tiring it could get at times.

“What can I do to make you feel better?” he asked, bringing a hand to cup your cheek and rub soothing motions on your skin with his thumb.

You thought about it for a moment, but there was only one thing that came to mind.

“Cuddles?”

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[miranyx1337]

Alastor x Reader

,,FEATHER ’’

Tags: fluff (for now ) enemies to lovers, kissing, being protective, cuddles, sleeping problems, flirting, possesive reader is an angel, fem reader

so enjoy this angel y/n x Alastor fanfiction.

The portal was just about to shout when I decided to pull my wrist away from my mother's gentle hand. The rush of my wings echoed through the abyss as I plummeted into the darkness. I closed my eyes. The desperate scream of my name immediately faded into nothingness as I came to hell just after lucifer daughter.

Dizziness enveloped me as I opened my eyes to a realm of strangers, their curious, disgusted, and unsettlingly smiling gazes fixed upon me. Only two faces seemed familiar, and a sinking realization of the dire situation I was in gripped my soul.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Alastor anticipated the return of two birds from heaven. Little did he expect that they would bring an unexpected guest. The thought of joking about a change in hotel profession crossed his mind. But the gravity of the moment silenced any trivial remarks.

As the clear blue eyes peered at him above shiny white hair, a sensation of swallowing saliva overcame him.

A true guest from heaven," he mused, his emotions were a complex blend of deep admiration and an unspoken desire to shatter this celestial beauty. The finest trophy he could ever possess.

He extended his hand towards the luminous figure

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Y/N POV

I ignored a demonic hand reaching out to me. With one swift movement of my wings, I found myself at the other end of the room. As I stood on my feet and the momentary adrenaline faded, sharp pain get through me. I landed on my knees, slightly dazed.

"My wing is broken."

Since childhood, I couldn't help but admire my six wings, always well-groomed and shining, my trademark. Now, the upper ones drooped, broken in half. Snowy-white feathers, wincing in pain as more of them fell off.

I won't lick my wounds quickly, which means I won't return home anytime soon.

The exiled daughter ran up to me, and I leaned on her shoulder. She and the white-haired one were probably the only ones I could trust.

"Listen, I don't know if they will come for me, but you need to know something."

I directed my gaze at the nearby onlookers, demons staring at me as if I were a freak, and creature of sin. Red, smiling eyes pierced through me, and I couldn't look away. The demon looked at his outstretched hand, then withdrew it behind him, seemingly surprised. Smiling nonchalantly, he spoke, "Don't worry. You can trust everyone in this room."

"No. Please, let's go to another room." I looked desperately at her, squeezing the forearm with my pale hands.

"Alright, then," she nodded, gripping my arm tighter. "And you guys, prepare a bandage, something to drink, and... call my father."

As soon as the door closed behind us, I began searching the room when I felt clawed fingers on my shoulders, instantly turning me around.

"Can you trust me, please?"

"Fine."

"Okay, FIRST, why did you do that? Did they make you spy?"

"Listen, Charlie," I said, now I'm the one holding her shoulders. "You're right. There is an evidence that souls can be redeemed."

Disbelief was painted at her angelic-demonic face. She analysed my words and sincerity. "Adam. He wasn't originally in heaven. I don't know how he got a pass, but I have undeniable evidence that he originally ended up here."

Suddenly, everything made sense, and the girl connected the dots. Still, with wide eyes, she stared at me.

"So, that's why," she stuttered.

"Yes, it would be a disaster if it turned out the first redeemed soul didn't deserve it. He'll try to hide the truth in every way, even if it means bringing hell down …. and killing me.

Tears welled up in my eyes. How did I get involved in this? I should never have ended up here, let alone conspiring against heaven. I was no longer safe there.

Tiny arms with the smell of sulfur and angelic musk embraced me. Exhausted, I let tears flow down my cheeks. It's a shame I didn't notice the nosy egg tucked under the bed and the radio demon standing right behind the door holding a sinful kiss on a small shiny feather

[brucewaynehater101]

Do you think after BruceQuest the bat kids + Oracle and Alfred (maybe or maybe not Batman)

all but blatantly cut contact with the Justice League?

Even if Batman forgives them for leaving him for dead even with all the evidence in front of them, they've still shown themselves wildly unreliable to even their own members

Unless the Justice League forces themselves into a Bat's conflict or other situation or the bats genuinely have no other option

Bats lean towards each other for help, next best thing is Young Justice or other heroes of their generation, and as last resorts, mercenaries or villains, maybe even ex-LOA members

The Justice league (including Batman if he sticks with em) are the last last resort and are the last people to learn of Bat-involved incidents, if at all

Maybe rogues outside of Ra's learns what BruceQuest was, how it ruined Red Robin's reputation irreparably and uses it to annihilate the League's PR by showing the truth to the world?

I know Mr Lex Luthor would lap that shit up

Especially if Batman is still on good terms yet Red Robin is still dealing with the aftermath years later

Everyone is pulling their hair out because Lex is doing an objectively good thing for the wrong reason and when his villainy is toppled again—

Red Robin isn't going to live his life like his repaired reputation is gonna last

Ooh. How would the Bats react to the JL post BruceQuest?

Cass, Steph, Duke, and Jason do not have a relationship or rely on the JL. Jason probably is already upset at the JL for a variety of reasons. All that would change if the batfam is Team Tim would be those batkids being colder to the JL. Maybe they also pull off pranks.

In the end, those Batkids would be the equivalent of hearing your sibling talking about their toxic workplace and hating those fuckers (who you rarely see/interact with) on principle.

For Damian? It's a toss-up. It depends on how he views Tim and the JL. If Damian wants to become Batman, he might see the JL as a necessary step for that. He might need to have several conversations with various family members and his friends (like Colin and Jon) to understand his own position and thoughts on the JL.

For Babs, I hc she helped them a lot with their systems and other work. She probably feels guilty about Tim (not believing/supporting him and his traumatizing trip he did alone). If she was also on Team Tim, she would pass all system management to Vic and maintain a slightly frosty professional distance from them. Her Birds of Prey would become aware that she helps them, but she only assists the JL in dire circumstances.

Dick would have mixed feelings about it. He kind of told other heroes that Tim wasn't to be trusted and that he was having a mental breakdown due to grief. Now, what they did with that information is not Dick's fault. They should have supported the teenager and understood that Dick was also crumbling under his grief/responsibilities. So, Dick feels conflicted. He wants to make it up to Tim, though, and probably maintains a more professional distance from JL.

Alfred is also guilty of not being there for Tim when he needed help and care. However, I like to imagine he makes very pointed comments at JL members when they visit for their direct actions in that situation.

I do think that the batkids join together to mutually say "fuck you" to the JL, but in their own ways.

Batman/Bruce is iffy. On one hand, people like to use the BruceQuest as Bruce's kick in the pants to be a better father. On the other hand, he does his whole Batman Inc shit and is in Gotham less. So, it depends on how you picture him dealing with that trauma and his relationships with his family. If he's doing the less local Batman stuff, then he's probably more with the JL (and thus not on his kids' side).

The Lex Luthor theory you have going on? Brilliant 👏

[mxtantrights]

day court!reader attends a joint meeting of the night and day courts

They haven't arrived yet. Which means you are safe, for now. You won't be safe the second the shadowsinger appears. Who knows, maybe he's already said something to his high lord. Probably. Most likely.

You swirl your spoon around in the tea cup once more. With your face resting in your hands you look around the room again. Helion, Jaythan and a few other advisors are going over things.

This meeting would be pointless, you think. With Jaythan in the room he was sure to shoot down any non biased idea and voice pr-day court suggestions. Ever since the strain he's been less diplomatic and more hardheaded.

The door opens and you watch casually as the inner circle walks in. First the high lord and his wife, the high lady, then the two sisters, the two illyirans and lastly the blonde and the woman you met at the club that night.

Your interests piques. You sit up straight in your seat. The hand swirling the tea around stopping it's motions.

Oh you might actually be screwed here.

As it happens, the shadowsinger sits across from you as everyone takes their seats. You lean back into your seat and try your best not to look at him.

The meeting starts painfully flow. With both sides exchanging pleasantries. Blah blah blah, day court is lovely, blah blah blah the night court would love to host a meeting.

It all starts to sound the same to you. You start to zone out, thinking of what things you could be getting up to if you weren't in this meeting. It's a formality really. There's no need for an ambassador for stability, that should be Helion's role as high lord.

At some point in the middle of the meeting you manage to lock eyes with the shadowsinger. It's by pure accident. You happen to forget that you shouldn't look at him.

You look over his leathers and the tops of his wings. And then suddenly you look at his face and you find him already looking at you. It makes you look away quickly.

And thankfully, you don't have to think about what could happen next. Because a knock on the door sounds out. A messenger pops his head in and looks around for a while before landing on you.

"You have a ongoing situation." he says.

Helion chuckles, "She's in the middle of an important-"

"I'm sorry high lord, but I wouldn't interrupt if it weren't dire." the messenger says.

"Is it really?" Helion asks.

"It's fine. " you say, ushering the messenger in.

He comes in quickly and leans over to tell you in short detail what the situation is. A disgruntled former member of the day court who wishes to air his grievances with you.

"I'll be back." you say, getting up from your seat.

"Trouble?" a voice asks.

You look right at him. Shadowsinger. Azriel. He was no doubt fanning whatever flames you had started when you visited the night court uninvited. No way you were gonna let that out now.

You smile, "Always."

[minnielvrr]

Skz AU: Captured-Teaser

Lee: Hyunjin Ler: Han Word Count: 567

A/N: A little something I'm working on🤭 Fair warning, this doesn't have much of a tickle scene in it (that's for the actual story)😋Enjoy~

Hyunjin struggled against the ropes, his shoulders screaming in pain from the unnatural position. His arms were wrenched behind the chair, rough ropes biting into his skin as they secured him to metal hooks at the back.

Han’s collection of blood-chilling torture tools lined the walls, each one meticulously placed, a silent threat. The room was a graveyard of twisted steel and pain.

Hyunjin gulped as discreetly as possible, fear clawing at his throat. He tried to hide it, but Han noticed. Of course, he did. Han stalked over, leaning in, uncomfortably close.

With a single finger under his chin, he lifted Hyunjin's head to look up at him. "Are you scared Jinnie? Don't worry, darling, I won't hurt you too much. We have lots of time to play!"

"Don't you dare use that name. You lost the right to call me that that the moment you betrayed us." Hyunjin gritted out, eyes blazing.

Han just shrugged, as if he didn't care. He probably didn't, that damned traitor.

With a cold chuckle, Hyunjin whispered, "You’ll never be anything more than a lapdog, Han. A pathetic little pawn doing someone else’s dirty work.”

Han growled, frustration boiling over as his gloved hand snapped to Hyunjin’s throat. The rough texture of the rubber pressed into Hyunjin’s sensitive skin.

But instead of choking, he squeaked, cringing away, his face flushing red, yet Han held firm.

"Hmm?" He let out a quizzical sound, gripping Hyunjin's chin and forcibly tilting his face to the sides, examining his neck. Perhaps he was injured? Han could use that to his advantage to get the information he needed.

Chan muffled a giggle at the situation, everything being too funny for him to hold back. They would both be so screwed if Han realized what was going on. But something about the situation told Chan that Han wasn't planning to hurt them.

It was just a hunch but he felt quite sure of it, despite knowing close to nothing about the younger. Hyunjin stayed still as a mouse, sweat beading his forehead as he tried to stay quiet, every muscle tensed in a futile resistance.

Suddenly Han's hands slipped down his neck to where his shoulders met his ribs, brushing his gloved fingers curiously over the area. Hyunjin jolted, barely managing to rein in the shudder and whimper that threatened to escape. He squeezed his eyes shut, sucking his lips in.

He understood how dire this situation was. He knew Han would do whatever it took to get what he wanted to. He was infamous for his ruthless nature that made him perfectly suited for his job as an interrogator.

"Oh?" The smirk that adorned Han's face had even Chan, seated all the way on the opposite side of the room shivering. Hyunjin was not going to survive. It was over for them.

Cautiously, Han dragged the tips of his fingers over the exposed skin of Hyunjin's armpits. "Mhmhm!" Hyunjin protested, lips pressed together desperately. He had to endure this, he had to, he had to!

He tried to curl in on himself but quickly remembered the current position he was in. He was helpless. There was nothing he could possibly do to even mute those torturous sensations spreading all over his skin.

Han, on the other hand, seemed to relish every moment, his mind racing as he realized the control he now had over Hyunjin.

[yuriisclumsy]

What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland?

╰Description: [Name] is one of the top mage in Twisted Wonderland, right after Malleus Draconia.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 (You are here)

 —May 24, 2024—

This is a continuation on the What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland? 

After the dreadful day of the test results, the students in NRC are now begging Crowley to do something about [Name]'s rigorous lessons. Because Crowley was ever gracious–forced–he took it upon himself to make a meeting with [Name] and discuss lighter plans for her classes. 

To Crowley’s dismay, [Name] was quite adamant about her methods of teaching; and I quote: “What is the point of teaching such a hard skill to those that are uninterested in it?” 

In her defense, you need to have mastered the intermediate level of theory to learn her method of casting spells, it is only natural she puts pressure on that. And so, the once popular professor [Name], is now the feared witch of NRC. 

It is impressive how quickly people switch their feelings. 

… 

“What do you mean you won't change the syllabus?” 

“As I stated before, Mr. Crowly, I will not change my lesson plans because a few students are unable to pass my test.” 

“That's eighty percent of your students!” Crowly slammed his desk.  

“Your point is…?” 

This had been going on for an hour already. They had neither progressed nor reached an agreement. He was getting too much pressure as it is from the students, much less from the parents, and now one of his own staff is not listening to him? Oh, woe is upon him. 

“Professor [Name] let’s be reasonable here,” Crowly massages his face out of frustration, “you need to lower the difficulty of your lessons. If not, no one will want to take your class! Are you not seeing the problem?” 

“I stand to see the issue.” [Name] said not faced by what is happening. “If my students wish to not take my class anymore, then they should be allowed to leave.” 

Croly groaned at her obliviousness…that is what he thought anyway. He stood up to grab a stack of papers piling up near the office entrance. Letting them fall in front of [Name] they made a bang sound. 

“...what is this?” [Name] asked looking at the mountain in front of her. 

“These are all papers of complaint from both parents and students.” 

[Name] was still not interested in the dire situation. It is as if she didn’t care. Probably because she did not. 

Crowly dropped his elbow onto the desk and leaned in, he began to speak. “Professor [Name], if you continue at this pace, I have no other choice than to fire you.” He warned. 

“Then do it.” 

“No, you don’t have to worry, if you just change—wait what?” He was left speechless. He had threatened other professors like he threatened [Name]. But none had ever followed through with their ideals. Maybe he heard it wrong. “Do…what exactly?” 

“Fire me.” 

No, he heard correctly. 

“...Professor [Name]...you can’t be serious.” 

“Oh, but I am,” [name] stood up, “If you wish to fire me, you are more than welcome to.” 

“...” 

“If there are no further issues, I will take my leave.” Taking her belongings, she walked toward the door. She had classes to teach after all. 

“Wait a second! Please, at least think of lowering the complexity of the class!” 

[name] stopped as she opened the door of the office. “...” looking back at the desperation of the Headmage, she turned, “...I’ll think about it.” 

Having done everything in his power, Crowly lumberly sat down. He looked out to the last spot where [Name] had been in the doorway and sighed. He hoped she would consider what he said, if not, he would have to start looking for a replacement. 

… 

Classes continued as usual. The students hung around NRC as it was their lunch break. They talked about ordinary things; tournaments coming up, newly released movies, who would win in a beauty contest: Vil or Neigh; normal conversations.  

But a murmur had begun to spread. 

It is a rumor. Usually, rumors are few and far in-between in NRC, because the boys would lose interest in a day or two. Ah, but this is not a typical rumor. This rumor had to do with The Witch of NRC. Rumor had spread that she was going to be fired. This was shortly after the meeting [Name] had with Crowly.  

A student had seen her walk out of the headmaster's office and produced a happy conclusion. It did not help that in the following days [Name] had to take a few days off sick. 

Everyone started to celebrate. They would not have to deal with professor [Name] anymore! 

“Can you believe it? Professor [name] was fired!” 

“What? No way! I am glad she got fired. I won't have to worry about having her in the future anymore!” 

Most of the students cheered. Her method of teaching–although hard to follow–had taught them more about magic theory than any other class. Given this, they were grateful.  

So, hearing that their professor was fired, they decided to go to her personally and give her some farewell gifts. 

Although, one student was not pleased by any of this.  

I wonder what he’ll do…. 

(finished: 5/26/2024)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @scarabiafriend, @sleep-ydragon, @d3sperate-enuf, @elaemae, @lucky-whispers, @kiwiimochi, @emmorphine, @azriel-sama, @amora-ledezma, @writerstrashbin, @marinahavik, @twstwondersforyou, @lunatheroyal, @ririsun, @dyedscarletletter, @kuureii, @otomega, @valacz29, @busy-dadzawa-fish, @sarah22447, @valacz29, @wondering-again, @lucid-stories. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Twisted wonderland. Back to The Mind

Back to Master-List

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐢𝐭

cw: masturbation

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲

you’re defeated. wrapped up and consumed by your solitude and despair at how dire this situation has unfolded to be. you’ve lost all that you have of yourself and this may be the lowest moment in your life. shaking it off, you stand back up, making your way back to your bathroom yet again, to wash your face of these tears. are you really killing yourself to get into a good school?

the cold water sends a shock through your system as it makes contact with your skin as you wash and wash your shame away, failing to scrub the permanent stain etched into your vessel. sighing you raise your head, the droplets plunging down your neck and soaking your shirt. you slowly drop your head, watching the water spread so quickly, drenching your blue t-shirt. it’s almost as if a well has been dug in your heart, carving out all your sentiments and feelings. turning off the water you turn to dry your face before leaving to retreat in your room again.

your room is a lifeless little hole, with no shade or depth of life to it. a simple white-walled room, built to fulfil its purpose. you have no posters, colourful rugs or dangling displays. your mother would say it looks like a zoo either way. pale sunlight strains its way into the room as you sit down on your swivel chair, solemnly placing your glasses on your face today. the really bitter fact about this situation is that you have no form of solace. no girls to lean back on, no one to empathise with your sorrows and situations, no one to fight for you. just yourself. a fundamental truth you have grown to learn. no matter how loved you are, or may think you are, once the seasons change and the time comes, you’ll be alone like you always were. no one will be there when you need them the most, and they shouldn’t have to be. this life is your own, you get what you work for, and it’s not any other way.

sure that belief could've stemmed from the blubbering jealousy you’d feel when seeing a group of girls in the hallway snickering and giggling behind lockers, or groups of friends walking home together talking the entire way. certainly not. because you knew you were right.

the door opens silently, but not quiet enough. it’s like you can feel your mother’s presence hovering from outside your door. her negative aura could easily be recognised by you. “ good afternoon mother.” you greet, momentarily tearing your eyes away from your laptop to look at her. the look on her face is rigid and undecisive on how to treat you today.

“look at your shirt. didn’t know i had a toddler alone in this house. how on earth could you make such a mess of yourselves and be so unbothered? you ruin my reputation, child, you really do.” the wicked words don’t plunge as deep as they used to. they don’t twist the chords of your heart anymore, they simply deflect off of you. she leaves your room, her chilling presence following behind her shortly.

you don’t know why your mother is this way, nor do you care. you have money, you have food, a bed, and yourself. and you’re doing fine, just as how you’ve been doing all your life.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹

days roll into the night and your mother is asleep, preparing for her next early shift and the maids are asleep leaving you to be the only person up, again. the issue with tonight is that there are 3 more course assignments due that you want to finish before going to sleep if there’ll even be sleep. but you’re not sure if your mind can carry on with you anymore, you’ve been stuck reading the past few paragraphs over and over and over again, making no progress.

there is only one thing to do. destress.

you click off all of your study websites and open a new incognito tab. you know it probably doesn’t do much, but it’s the feeling of security it provides that makes you use it. your practised fingers type the name of the specific website you’re looking for. after a couple of seconds of slow website loading the erotic home page has taken over your screen. videos of butts and cocks and vaginas are all over the place.

as you scroll you don’t notice anything new, just regular videos with absolutely vile titles of “dumb blond gets fucked by stepfather.” or “petite redhead taught a lesson.” unimpressed you keep scrolling, fearing this is one of the days where the is nothing to watch. until you see it.

a thumbnail of what appears to be a very muscular tan-looking man with dark wavy hair. the still image is focused on his rippling back, the light in the video hitting all the right angles and some woman beneath him. looks promising.

you stand up, checking your door is properly locked before returning to your seat and placing your earbuds in. once you make it past the ads, the video begins. at first, it’s nothing more than sensual kissing and groping on a white sheet bed, nothing unusual. but when the shot angle changes and focuses on the woman sopping cunt getting fiddled with by his large fingers, you start to feel the usual tingle of excitement break from within. his finger movements were so precise, and you could only imagine what that would feel like for you.

eyes glued to the screen, you slip your hand down your pyjama shorts, lifting a leg unto the chair for extra space. you’re biting your lips as you mimic his movement, his strokes, his flicks his pauses. “there’s a good girl.” he purrs on camera, his face still out of the shot. such a shame. your fingers rub faster and you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. you bite your lip to suppress a moan, reminding yourself that it’s late at night. “you like that huh?” he says again, something about his voice, fueling your arousal. you hear your own cunt, drenched in the silence of your room.

He coos again, “You’re so wet f’me baby, want me to slip it in?yh? there’s a good girl.” you watch as he rubs his leaking tip around her entrance, moving slowly as he traces in, before nuzzling the tip inside. you don’t even have to think when your hands do the same thing, slipping into your snug cunt a groan of ecstasy slipping past your lips. your free hand seems to have been groping your breath in the meanwhile, fingers squeezing around your clothed nipple, giving you pleasure.

his ridiculously thick cock pushes in an out of her, struggling to fit itself back in. a thin white layer coating its length as he pumps faster. your free hand now slips under your shirt, holding and squeezing your breast, fiddling with your nipple in your fingers again. the back arches of your chair and you close your eyes sinking into it all, listening to his voice groan in your ear, praising you and calling you sweet things like “ good girl.”

you’re close. you feel it when your walls start clamping down on your fingers and your hips can’t seem to stay still as they rock back and forth. you allow your soft moans to escape your lips as you fall into the building pleasure more. peeking your eyes open to notice he’s got his hand on the other’s head, pushing her down unto their bed as he thrusts into her mercilessly. your gingers brush up against your g spot and your moth goes agape. “you’re close aren’t you, why don’t you come around my dick huh? i want it all over.” his ridiculously attractive voice is distracting you from the fact that this would be over faster than usual times, but you don’t mind. you feel yourself tightening and wondering how much longer you can go on, your fingers slipping in and out at an incredibly fast pace.

“give me the best you’ve got come on.” you’re coming undone, pulling your fingers as your cum flows out of your fluttering hole, rolling down your thighs and drenching your panties and pyjama shorts. “good girl.”

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲

(please send a dm or comment on my the pinned blog to join the taglist.)

taglist: @slutkoo

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Ooh how abut number '11. toothpaste kisses' for soft prompts! Love your writing

Send me soft prompts! Ao3 collection post here!

Eddie is going to make everyone late.

Look: he really thinks most of it isn't his fault. He'd covered for somebody on B shift Tuesday, so he'd only had 24 hours off and he'd had to sleep through a good chunk of it, so laundry went a little by the wayside, leading to him tossing a frantic load into the washer at 5 am when he realized he had no clean work clothes. And, again, he’d covered that Tuesday shift after a 12 hour on Monday, so it’s reasonable that he forgot how dire the toothpaste situation was. The look Chris had given him when he said they needed to run to the store right now at bright and early 6 am would have withered a lesser soul, so at 6:04 Eddie, still in sweatpants and wearing ratty old slides is running down the block solo to grab whatever they have at the nearest corner store. He winces as he grabs the baking soda kind (Chris hates it) and books it back to the house, trying to breathe through the waves of oh god I’m a terrible father who left my kid alone and forgot about dental hygiene.

The house is considerably more crowded when he gets back to it. First, Chimney is lugging a dresser up the front stairs.

“What- hey- what-“ Eddie grabs the bottom of the thing, hastily shoving the toothpaste in his pocket. “What’s this?”

Chim tilts his head at him. “We were getting rid of it and you said you could use a new dresser, remember? I texted you I was coming to drop it off.”

Eddie’s phone is probably dinging away uselessly on his bedside table. “Right, yeah, sorry. There was a toothpaste emergency. Uh, thank you, we can just-“

Before he can come up with some way to finish that sentence, Carla opens the door. He hadn’t even seen her car, shit, he hopes there’s no calls right away when they get to work because he’s clearly not slept enough and should lay down again as soon as possible.

“Oh!” She says, surprised and cheerful. “Why don’t you bring that into the living room. I put your clothes in the dryer, Eddie, I figured if you were running the wash this early it was an emergency.”

Well thank god somebody has a plan and knows whats happening. He and Chim set the dresser next to a wall someplace as out of the way as they can get, and then Eddie points at Carla. “Thank you,” he says, trying to put as much sincerity into the words as possible, before pivoting to head down the hall to find Chris. Its not a long journey, the kid standing right around the corner. Eddie hands him the toothpaste. “There you go.”

Chris scrunches his nose. “Baking soda kind. Gross. And I don’t need it, Dad, Buck brought the good stuff.”

“Buck?”

“Hey.”

Eddie pivots again to look in the kitchen, where the man himself is leaning against the counter drinking a cup of coffee out of his current favorite mug, the one with the squiggly little drawing of a frog and a chicken dancing together. “Hi.” Eddie supposes he isn’t exactly surprised he’s here, Buck is a feature of their household as much as the mug he’s holding is, but he is a little concerned about the amount of people popping out of the woodwork without him noticing. “Anybody else here? Why’d you bring toothpaste?”

Buck grins. “I think you’ve seen everybody now. And you were running out when I was here last, you’ve been busy, figured it might be helpful.”

Eddie nods, a little… wordless, maybe, a little bowled over. “I’m gonna…” he gestures towards the bathroom and limply leaves the conversation. By the time he’s brushed his teeth (it is the good stuff, the pricier name brand arctic fresh, Eddie usually goes for generic spearmint) Chris and Carla are ready to head out the door. Eddie is glancing at the clock and nervously calculating exactly how wet the clothes he’s about to put on are going to be as he says goodbye, leaning to kiss Carla, Chris, and Chim’s cheeks. “Ok, thank you, have a great day at school, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It takes a few seconds of staring at Chimney’s trying not to laugh face, and listening to Chris’s not-trying-not-to-laugh-at-all guffaws before his brain catches up to his actions. “Oh my god.”

Chimney grins and Eddie shakes his head futilely against the oncoming barrage. "I always knew I was your favorite." He smacks a hand to his cheek and swoons, and Eddie rolls his eyes. "Everyone said it was Buck, but I knew the Han-Diaz love connection was just waiting to happen."

Buck is laughing somewhere behind him, and Eddie wants to see what look is on his face, but instead he rolls his eyes again, harder, and says "I'm going to check on the laundry," and shoos his son out the door before fleeing to the dryer.

Of course it's all still fucking damp. They're already pushing it on time though (maybe if all three of them are late they can unionize against Bobby?) so he shucks his sweats and shimmies his way into the unpleasant cool of his pants. When he emerges from his shirt, wincing, he finds Buck in the hallway with him.

“Chimney says we’re running late and if you don’t hurry up he’s leaving you for dead, no matter your new found love.”

“I know, I know, I just need to find my shoes-“

“I put ‘em by the door,” Buck smiles, and then the smile becomes a grin. “Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” Eddie says with the right amount of apprehension for the situation.

“No goodbye kiss for me?” He tilts his head, grin thoroughly classifiable as shit-eating.

“We’re going to the same place, Buck. I’m probably gonna ride in your car.” He’s absolutely going to ride in his car, they both know it.

“Ah, so is Chimney, he got one.”

And Eddie could defend himself with the reasonable explanation that he just happened to be standing in a row next to the people he’d meant to press his affection onto, or the less reasonable explanation that he only gives goodbye kisses to people whose names start with a C, but instead he says “You want a kiss, Buck?”

And he’s moving before he loses nerve, and Buck is also moving, laughing at him, so again Eddie feels like it’s not entirely his fault when his kiss lands sort of on his cheek but mostly- it’s mostly on his mouth, which is soft and exhaling a little surprised sound against Eddie. They both pull back but maybe not as far as they probably should, if they weren’t them, if Eddie hadn’t spent the last few weeks or maybe years wondering how he could ask Buck to live on the shelf with all the mugs he’s cycled through as favorites. Then Buck darts his head forward, pecking another little kiss to his mouth, and Eddie chases him for a third, and Buck’s hand tangles in his shirt and he says “Oh” into Eddie’s mouth because the fabric is wet under his touch.

“Buckley, Diaz, I’m getting in my car, and I’m not going to defend you to Cap!”

Even at Chimney’s words they don’t entirely jump apart, just slide back a little, stand more firmly facing each other as the front door distantly opens and shuts.

“We’re gonna be late,” Buck says, an awed little smile pulling at his face.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, a little breathless. Maybe he can blame that on the cold clothes. “We should probably get going.”

Buck nods, and barely finishes the motion before Eddie puts his hands on his face and pulls him in for another minty kiss, firm, a promise. Buck is grinning when he backs off and Eddie is sure his face is a mirror image as he ducks around him to go find his shoes.

They’re late. But as Buck settles next to him on the couch, all pressed along his side despite the still damp clothes, Eddie thinks it was worth the wait.

[ace-of-gay]

Little mouse in an ocean

Stucky x little reader

Word count: 1,803 words oops lol

Warnings: intense sensory overload that leads to a more internalized meltdown, loki shows up, sippy, caregiver names like daddy, and dada, little names like baby boy, and munch short ofr munchkin, fidget items, sound canceling headphones, chest binding, comfort items.

Edited to the best of my ability

Age regression is a coping mechanism, if your not knowledgeable and uncomfortable of the topic either read up on it or ignore please <3

Reader is a trans man, no weight, ethnicity or hair type mentioned, reader is at least slightly able bodied in this

Dont like it dont read it especially when theres warnings

You’d been anticipating the event for a while so it didn't sneak up on you or anything but the Impending stress of having to mask for several hours and converse with people like it was on your everyday agenda, this was nothing of how you liked it, well beyond the several month warning, it gave you time to prepare both mentally and physically, gathering items you would need incase of a worst case scenario in a messenger bag, ranging from two different means of music, noise canceling headphones around the front part of the strap, Bluetooth earbuds fully charged and inside of the most front pouch accompanied by an infinity cube graced with rubber edges to not click like a normal cube, not wanting to bring attention to your discomfort in any situation.

Your favorite book, a couple small sweet and salty snacks depending on the situational needs, alongside a comfort snack , your smaller communication cards, a few more fidgets and essential items.

Bucky and Steve helped pack this bag for you, it being perfectly assembled for anything you could possibly need.

With that Bucky took you out to find a nice casual suit with fabrics that don’t irritate you.

All the small things arranged, it had your mind settled enough not to stress through the remaining time.

That is until you got there, when walking into the event hall you tug on the bottom of the jacket to your suit, adjusting it, "do you even pass?", whether or not you’re shorter, curvier, if your voice is deep enough , or if your handshake was firm enough, what ever your though in comparison may have been the idea of not passing was terrifying, Steve walking on your left puts his right hand on your shoulder leaning in, "you look handsome, i promise you’re absolutely perfect" his whispers calmed the choppy waters in your mind from becoming rapids.

You worked with some of these people, you knew a good portion of faces, knew even more names, your social analyzing has you determining who is good to talk to and who isn’t purely based on how they carry themselves, the people they talk to and how people look when they walk away, all factors you use to keep you most comfortable.

The best places to be in situations are either outside separate from people or around the food table where most often people are too occupied with collecting snacks and other food items, keeping your talking to a minimum and keeping your social battery higher for longer.

You figured you’d head over that way if it felt dire but for now you stuck with Bucky and Steve.

Trailing through the large people filled room, your boyfriends on each side of you to keep unwanted physical touch to a minimum.

Director fury approaches you three, shaking each persons hands, you know fury pretty well, the conversation going quick and simple, just as easy as the night had gone so far until people started ushering Steve one way and Bucky the other, leaving you disoriented, not entirely sure who you should go with, the confused lapse in time has you loosing them in the crowd, that’s okay, you’re big right now, you can fend for yourself, maybe find Nat or Thor, maybe Thor forced Loki to come along with.

That would be nice, a silent companion to keep you company while sitting in a dark corner avoiding most interactions, actually corners probably have the most amount of echo, at least perspective wise that is, you'd be able to hear everyone and than being next to a corn means you’re closer to the sound reflection hearing it twice, that’s something that would absolutely irritate you, possibly even give you a splitting headache.

Being in this room no one by your side, having to navigate your way through a crowd of now unfamiliar faces, peoples conversations bouncing off of one another, high heels going in all directions, clicking like shark teeth in infested feeding water, social vampires, maybe not everyone but gods did it feel like everyone.

People feasting off of communication, jingling keys like lures, or maybe bells, like the service indication bell in your local comfort food restaurant, so many indications, so many people, all sounds equally intrusive you just want to shut it out but you cant until you’re in a place where no one will question why you have headphones on at a party.

A constantly shifting maze of people, hands patting your back as people pass through the crowd, a few people stopping you for conversations that you try to keep to a minimum saying you’re looking for Bucky or Steve.

Standing in such a room alone, you would be able to feel the air currents change but this room packed with more people than an official tony stark party, it felt like the air itself had stiffened and is on the brink of collapsing in your lungs, it felt suffocating to the point holding your breath would be a better means of keeping yourself together than breathing at all.

With everything swirling, people constantly touching you, talking to you, your mind slips fast, in moments like this you put on chapstick and pretend its superglue so not to make a cosmic fool of yourself if you could even manage to get words out.

You finally make it out of the crowd only to realize most of the drinks are probably spiked, you refrain from drinking anything you don’t know, you make a b line to the patio door stepping out into the cool fresh air, the bite of cold in your lungs amongst a deep breath being the edge of the blade, it was soothing, so soothing that everything from inside broke loose, a quiet choked sob broke from your chest, if you were big right now you would know what to do but you feel so small, so very small, like a mouse in the ocean next to a baleen whale.

Your hands trembling as though electricity was pulsing through your veins, rapidly looking around, dazed vision making everything quite unclear, bumping into someone you begin to stumble back, just your luck, both big and small you know that waterfall of black locks anywhere, and he knew you.

Loki, one person who understood the entirety of the situation, carefully he leads you aside, "you’re okay, its going to be okay, we'll find Bucky and Steve" mumbling it out quietly, the first vast difference between him and the room, his voice like Bucky and Steve’s voices was safe.

He takes the headphones off the front strap of your messenger bag, helping you put them on over your ears, feeling the world go silent, sound has pressure so the lack of sound felt less like a kick drum in your ears and more like a deep breath in winter air.

Taking the communication cards out of your bag he finds two cards, showing each one, you look at him with big eyes, tears still threatening to spill you show him the mouse card.

Small.

He nods, handing you one of the small fidgets, closing your bag and taking your hand, into his cold delicate one.

He signals for you to take a few deep breaths with him and than you’re once again back into the warped room, warm of people, sharp of knowing all the sounds, he leads you through the very best route but even still people are bumping into your, patting your back when passing and trying to stop you in your tracks.

You can see Steve’s golden hair practically glowing, you let go of Loki’s hand trying to rush past people to your boyfriend but another sturdy intruding body gets in the way, bumping you causing you to drop your fidget, looking to the ground to find it.

A small mouse in the ocean amongst a group of narwhals in the eye of a thunderstorm.

Electricity raging in your hands, in your arms, in your chest and in a split second your dominant hand slams down hard onto your thigh three times just above your knee, grabbing your fidget, doing your best to hold back the electricity, you watch as Steve turns around.

Its as if he’s in slow motion, you cant get to him fast enough, you’re being held against his chest, holding tightly to his shirt fabric creasing in your grasp, he’s talking to Loki getting the most of what he can on what happened.

He has you turn around so you can walk but your eyes are closed he’s directing you through, making sure nothing touches you.

You feel the cool air touch your tear streaked cheeks cooling the tear trails.

Sitting in the car you wait for Bucky, eating one of your snacks and drinking a water based drink Steve had poured into a spare sippy he kept in the car.

"I’m so sorry munch, i turned away and you were gone, we didn't mean to put you through that, I’m so proud of you for finding Loki and letting him help", you nuzzle further into his side, touch may be unsafe but theirs was magic.

Bucky hops in the front seat turning to look at you and Stevie cuddled together in the back, reaching out for Bucky he takes your hand and holds it to his lips, he can tell just how small you are from how easy you are to maneuver. "Hi baby boy, daddy is here, lets go home now, is that okay?" You didn't respond, you were too busy feeling the metal plates of his hand.

The drive home was quick, tucked into dada Steve’s side, feeling the thrum of his heart in his chest between each breath, now inside in comfortable clothes and out of your binder one of Steve’s hoodies on you with the sleeves rolled up so your hands could peek out, laying safely between both of your caregivers, the havoc of the day having tired you out.

Bucky gets a notification saying that the food he ordered was delivered, he leaves only to return with dinner and your stuffy he picked up from the living room on his way back.

Little jerks and jolts here and there from remnant electricity occasionally causing you to hold your breath only for one of your daddies to find a new way to remind you to breathe, this time dada Stevie tapped the tip of your nose causing you to quietly coo, breathing.

Words aren’t an expectation, neither are sounds, they just want you to feel better and if that means holding you safely tucked between them than so be it, they would do anything and everything to keep their boy safe.

Because they’re with you til the end of the line.

This is twice as long as i meant for it to be but you absolutely deserve a longer fic, thank you so much for your patience and thank you for requesting <33 @valetim09

I had to fix the layout because for some odd reason it got all mixed up

[chernabogs]

Meet the (grand)parent

Requested by @pyroxeene [first request wah!!]

Pair: Malleus & GN!Reader (no pronouns used, second person; reader is a Fae who resided in a human settlement in BV)

Summary: You're set to meet the Queen of Briar Valley, much to your pending anxiety. Isn't it fortunate that you have such a considerate partner [and 1 stressed out valet] by your side?

WC: 2.5k

There’s a sense of trepidation in the air. Anyone can see it in the way that your foot bounces ever so slightly on the ground, and how your gaze darts around the room, as though anticipating something dire to happen. With each shift in your chair and each sigh that slips past your lips, the looming sense of anxiety grows—and it’s beginning to get to the Malleus, too. 

“You’ll put a hole through the floor at this rate,” he finally says, his voice unusually calm for the storm that’s currently brewing. You look over at him as he speaks, a flash of confusion on your face, and he points wordlessly at your bouncing leg. You sigh and force it to stop. 

“I don’t think I’d be able to afford those repairs.”

Despite the nerves, you retain a wry sense of humor about the situation as you go back to looking around the room. It’s a lobby of sorts; a buffer between the hallway and the Queen’s Study, which sits beyond an impressive mahogany door on the far wall. With its dark red walls, wooden flooring, and impressive display of artifacts that look like they date well past your years, it almost feels like you’re in more of a museum than a palace. 

Malleus sighs himself as he leans back against his seat, his chin tilting back to stare at the ceiling in thought. You glance back his way and note that his brow is furrowed, as though something is troubling him deeply. Something probably is; after all, you doubt he’s brought many partners into the Palace to meet his family. 

Truthfully, you’re thankful that it’s just the Queen you’re meeting—if you had to meet all the Senate as well, you would have dug your heels into the ground outside of those palace gates and refused to budge, no matter how hard Malleus pulled on your arm. As someone who grew up in a human village rather than a Fae one, you still find it jarring just how different the two cultures are. Whereas one comment may be seen as a joke in the human village, it may be taken as a grave offense to a Fae. Because of this, your involvement with the Crown Prince feels more like walking on a tightrope in a storm than an amicable relationship. 

“I could just fake sick,” you finally say, leaning towards him a little with a grimace. “If I make myself look queasy enough, the servants will probably usher me out anyway. They seem itching to do so.” 

Malleus scoffs softly before looking towards you, one dark brow raising in skepticism. “She’ll know you’re faking it, and then I’ll need to justify why my partner falsified an illness to bail on our first meeting. Would you really make me go through that?” 

His expression shifts to a playfully hurt one as you roll your eyes and sink back into your seat again. “No, but that doesn’t mean I’m liking this. I feel like if I move too fast someone's going to try and curse me. It’s quite jarring.” 

“Well if someone curses you, I’ll simply curse them back.” Malleus reaches out to lightly pat your hand—perhaps out of comfort, perhaps out of sympathy—before withdrawing again. You miss his touch; ever since you came into the Palace, it feels like he’s been self-aware of how often he’s grabbing your hand, or touching your arm, or standing too close to you. You understand that he has an appearance to uphold, but still… It feels quite grim. 

You’re both soon broken from your thoughts at the sound of the door to the Queen’s Study opening. A tall, lanky man dressed in impeccable attire steps out. He fixes you both with a look before closing the door behind him an steadily approaching. Malleus rises from his seat and you follow suit, using his actions as a guidance of your own as the man pauses before bending in a low bow. 

“Your Highness, and esteemed guest. Her Majesty is presently occupied with another matter, and has sent me to share her apologies for the delay. May I get you any refreshments as you wait?” 

Malleus blinks once before sitting back down which causes you to, once again, follow his actions. “Vuldar… do you know how much longer it will take?” 

The man—Vuldar—straightens back up again. He looks slightly ruffled—his collar slightly askew, his brow furrowed deeply—and you're getting a sense that the man may be a bit stressed. “Her Majesty informed me it will be within the hour, although she cannot provide a specific time.”

“Then yes, bring refreshments.” Malleus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, an action you’ve come to learn he does whenever he’s feeling frustrated. Vuldar nods quickly before turning and departing from the room, leaving both of you alone once more. 

“An hour…” Malleus grumbles, casting a glance to the window on your left. You can see that the clouds are parting over the Valley, giving you a clear view of the many forests and hills that surround the palace, as well as the impressive peaks of the mountains beyond. He taps his fingers restlessly on the armchair. “I apologize, dearest. I didn’t expect it to drag out like this.” 

“Well, it’s hard to remain on schedule when you’re ruling a nation.” You offer him a sympathetic smile, which seems to ease him as he realizes you’re not too bothered by the wait. As he turns back to focusing on the world outside, you take a moment to carefully reflect on the situation you’re in right now. 

Perhaps you can call it in over your head. Certainly, some would. Certainly, the members of the Senate would. Old money begets old money, and you’re the farthest Malleus could find from such a category. A common Fae, born to common-folk, with no affiliation to the current court or the old High Courts the Draconia’s descended from. The woven tale of your affair with one of the most powerful men in the nation was a complex one that, if it succeeded, would most likely be on-par with the likes of other forbidden loves of the ages. A Prince and a Pauper; a nation's makeshift Saint and a forgotten footnote. You can’t help but hiss between your teeth a little at the thought, which draws Malleus’ attention back your way. 

“What troubles you now?” He asks, both eyebrows now raised in interest. It’s your turn to tap your fingers on your armchair in unrest. 

“Are we sure this is the right idea? I mean, taking me to meet your family… are we sure we’re there just yet?” You glance his way, hoping to portray your thoughts right, only to see a calm, blank look in return. 

“Are you experiencing doubt?” He asks. In a way, you are; how can one live up to a person that an entire nation practically worships? Their golden son? The hope for their future? You knew that being by his side was committing yourself to a lifetime of scrutinizing looks and whispered conversations wherever you passed. Winning both man and Fae was a battle that no one—not even the Night King’s of old—had won.

“I’m experiencing concern, not doubt,” you counter, biting your lip as you do so. Malleus hums and nods in understanding at the change of phrasing. 

“Concern… yes. I suppose there is much to be concerned about.” He taps a finger to his lips before shifting to face you more directly. “Do you feel like you’re not good enough to be here? That you’re not up to par to meet the Queen?”

“Yes,” you counter, frowning. Malleus nods slowly as his eyes narrow. You can see the thoughts spinning in that mind of his and you remain quiet, allowing him to form the a coherent train before he continues. 

“My father was a commoner, you know.” 

It’s not a sentence you expected him to say, and it takes you aback as you look at him. Your expression must’ve spoken your thoughts quite clearly, because it makes a smile spread across his face and a chuckle escape from his lips. 

“Yes, my mother raised hell in the courts when she decided he’d be the one she’d marry. According to Lilia, who goaded her on about it, there were many instances where nobles tried to buy her off, to persuade her that a future queen would not benefit from marrying a man who spent his days strumming a lyre and singing in pubs—us Fae have a weakness for musicians, you know. Even my grandmother was convinced that she was simply going through a phase that she’d get out of soon enough.”

“But she didn’t?” You ask, your own lips pulling into a grin. 

“Well, I’m here, am I not? It was a hard fought battle, but my mother was more stubborn than my grandmother—a trait she inherited from my grandfather, I dare say—and she eventually outlasted everyone in the court. Their marriage was a happy one, right up until the end.” Malleus sat back again and sighed. “This is not my grandmother’s first encounter with one of her own looking to have a commoner as a partner, nor is it the court’s. If anything, I think you may be far more qualified than my father ever was for this.” 

You chuckle at the image Malleus paints. His mother, squaring against her mother and an entire court, with Malleus’ father standing slightly behind her as though she was his own personal shield. You can see that Malleus inherited both her tenacity and her stubbornness—as well as his father’s musical traits. You feel his hand lightly rest on yours again, and sigh in relief. 

Perhaps this will be okay, after all. 

—--

Sometimes, overconfidence can only take you so far. Vuldar brings you refreshments and vanishes again. You and Malleus carry on conversation after conversation; about the ongoing of the Valley, about NRC, about what you’ve both been up to in your free time. Soon enough, the study door opens once more, and Vuldar appears again with his usual stoic look. 

“Your highness, esteemed guest. If you’re ready, you may enter.”

And just like that, you feel your stomach drop once more. You look to Malleus, who offers you a light touch of reassurance on your arm, before you’re both rising and entering the Queen’s Study. It’s only when you’re in does the reality of this really start to hit you, and you don’t even register Vuldar closing the door in your wake. When Malleus drops to a low bow, you follow suit without even looking at the Queen first. 

There’s a moment of drawn out silence as you stare at the carpeted floor, only your breathing and that of Malleus’ audible in the room. Finally, a calm, commanding voice speaks from somewhere in front of you. 

“Rise, and be seated, both of you.” 

You straighten up and follow her directions, and it’s only when you’re seated do you finally raise your gaze to look her way. 

Queen Maleficia is someone that you can immediately tell is related to Malleus. They share similar electric green eyes and dark hair—although you do see streaks of silver in hers. They have the same horns, and the same porcelain skin as well. The only telltale difference between them is that Queen Maleficia’s markings on her forehead are displayed, whereas Malleus stubbornly keeps his hidden by his bangs. When her gaze meets yours, you feel a jolt of anxiety race through you. 

It feels as though she’s observing you, as well. 

“Well.” She finally says, looking from you and back towards Malleus. You feel your shoulders relax as you’re unburdened from that stare. “I must apologize for the delay; as you know, the Senate can be quite… needy in their reports.” 

“Lord Voss?” Malleus hums, and his grandmother cracks a small smile—an expression that seems to instantly make her more comfortable to be around. 

“Lord Voss.” 

“As expected. Fortunately, we didn’t mind the wait too much, did we?” Malleus looks your way, and you realize this is his method of integrating you into the conversation. You clear your throat and offer Queen Maleficia a nod. 

“Not at all. The refreshments and the room were quite nice.” 

Your answer seems to please her as she gives a small hum in response. “Good, good. Now, it’s to my understanding you grew up in one of the human villages in Briar Valley, yes?” 

You nod slightly. “Yes; I was born in one, and I’ve lived there since. It fits me well enough that I see no reason to leave.” 

“And how do you find the human villages? Are they quite adequate? Do you find that you have enough amenities to get you by?” Queen Maleficia fixes you with an interested look, and you’re beginning to feel that this isn’t just trying to learn more about you; if anything, it feels like she’s collecting information about the status of her nation. You suppose a Queen never stops her work. However, Malleus certainly does, and he politely clears his throat to interject. 

“Grandmother,” he says, his voice low with a hint. He raises an eyebrow at her. “Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” 

Queen Maleficia flashes him an innocent look as she leans back in her seat. “What, dearest? I was just curious. Your partner may have a diverse perspective that I don’t get to hear too often.” 

You tune in on the word choice of partner, and send Malleus a slightly wide-eyed look. For some reason, something seems significant that his Grandmother chose that versus something like ‘commoner’, or ‘friend’. Malleus seems to tune in as well as a slow, slightly satisfied grin tugs on the edge of his lips. 

“Well, perhaps you can speak with my partner further about that over a meal. We just wanted to come and greet you, after all. To show you that we have arrived safe and well.” 

Queen Maleficia hums again as she glances towards you. “Tell me—are you a musician, by chance? Or a bard?” 

Confusion flashes through you at this. “A bard…?”

“We did not meet in a pub, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Malleus counters, pinching the bridge of his nose again. Queen Maleficia chuckles and raises a hand. 

“Calm down, dear. It already happened once—I just wanted to ensure it wasn’t happening again. I will gladly join you both for dinner, if you’ll have me. It will be interesting to hear your perspective on Briar Valley from the viewpoint of someone closely affiliated with our human residents.” 

She gives you a smile that’s both amicable and polite, and you find yourself relaxing further. Between that and the banter she had with Malleus, you’re coming to see that she’s not just the Queen—she’s also a grandmother, and a very sly one at that. Malleus nods politely before standing and gesturing for you to do so. 

“Then we look forward to it. But please, don’t just speak about politics the entire night—you are meeting my partner, not a future advisor.”

“Oh, but the opportunity for both is always there,” Queen Maleficia counters, her grin now becoming more coy as she offers you both a wave. “I will see you tonight. For now, I must return to my… babysitting duties, it seems.” 

You chuckle a little at the realization she means the Senate and, with the feeling of Malleus’ hand resting on your lower back, you depart—looking quite forward to your dinner tonight, despite everything.