#and in the next issue that same possibility of him being the key to a cure results in him being a bit of a damsel in distress

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

Clone Conspiracy (Vol. 1/2016), #3.

Writer: Dan Slott; Penciler: Jim Cheung; Inker: John Dell; Colorist: Justin Ponsor; Letterer: Joe Caramagna

[glitch-karma]

Can I request another part of your "forgetful reader" headcanons you did but with Jouno, Fyodor, and Ranpo? Nikolai too if that's not too many characters, but dont worry about him if it is. Same prompt but with these characters

I was actually just thinking about my forgetful reader hc's the other day, Idk if other writers do this but I always go back and read my older stuff lmao

So here's part two, I had a bit of trouble figuring out what Nikolai would give his partner as a gift, so that isn't specified, I did add Chuuya and Sigma though

Cw: Degradation/name calling in Jouno's, Slightly spicy in Fyodor's, Kinda OOC Fyodor

Jouno

Low-key high-key an asshole

Don't get me wrong I'm in love with him,

But his love language is degradation (hot)

Jouno constantly is making fun of and being rude about how forgetful you are

If it seriously bothers you, he'll try his best to lay off as much as possible

Only because it's you though

He does get very irritated though

He got you a lovely set of earrings that resembled his a bit

They were honestly very nice and semi-expensive

You had always kept them in a tiny jewelry box on your nightstand

But after a rough day of trying to catch terrorists, you'd clumsily taken them off and fallen asleep

When you were getting ready for work the next morning, you realized they'd gone missing

In a panic, you tore apart your apparent in search of them

After a while, you heard a voice that made you wanna puke

"What's up with you huh? Why's my little troublemaker so frantic?"

Oh my lord no

"What are you talking about.?"

"Oh please, your heartbeat is a dead giveaway. Along with the shakiness in your voice. Can't hide from me y'know."

You shakily sighed as you admitted you'd lost the earrings

"Pft- are you kidding?"

He laughed slightly walking towards you

"How pathetic of you, losing a gift from your precious boyfriend?" He sighs in 'frustration'

"They were expensive too, do you even have a concept of money?" He laughs,

At this point, small drops of tears filled your eyes slowly as he kept poking fun at you

"Honestly how air-headed can you get? Tsk, should I be questioning this relationship?"

After a few seconds of silence, Jouno tensed as he heard your quiet whimpers.

He'd gone too far.

For a second, he didn't really know what to do

He sighed, bending down next to you and wrapping his arm around you.

"'m sorry." He mumbled lightly

You sniffled a bit, you looked up to see the concerned frown on his face, along with the softness that was rare for you to see in him

After a moment you sighed, leaning into his shoulder

"I'll get you a million more pairs if it means I don't have to hear you cry again. Truly."

He really was a good man, he just had some issues showing it.

But in the meantime, he'll let you teach him how to open up

I literally love him so much even if he's a dick head

Fyodor

He kinda just doesn't care-

I don't see him as the type to really mind stuff like that in a partner

But I don't really see him doing anything to help per se

He'll give you light reassurance if you're upset, but I don't see him doing too much more though

Surprisingly, he didn't buy you a country

He got you a necklace that was very clearly expensive, it had a key attached to it that was also made of some metal that did not look cheap, along with the small Diamonds and sapphires lacing the key (Real btw you tested it)

It was extravagantly expensive, and he made sure you knew that was less than you deserved (He couldn't find countries on the market)

Wow what a nice gift

Now where the hell did it go?

You, of course, retraced every step

Your apartment? Cleaned vigorously to search and find it

The cafe by your house? You paid every worker to search for it

The Doa office? A wreck

You were ass up on the floor looking under one of the couches when you heard a whistle behind you

When you tuned you saw the man you were scared to see

"Why might you be in such a comprehensive pose my paradox?"

You shakily sighed as you hit your head on the floor

Fyodor then quickly determined why you were on the floor by the necklace missing from your neck

He chuckled a bit as he walked towards you

He leaned down and picked you up, silencing you as he carried you to a basement you were unaware of

Before you could question, he pulled out the necklace, inserted the key into a large door, opening it to reveal a giant glorious room filled with all your favorite things, comfortable chairs, and a giant kitchen

As he set you down you started freaking out

"It's not quite done yet, I wasn't intending for you to lose it so fast. I'll get some help in here as well."

"You- This was all a plan for me?"

You yelled, running around and looking at everything

He chuckled as he grabbed you, leaning down and kissing your neck

"Жизнь моя,(1) you deserve this and more.."

He then threw you on the couch, hitting a button that shut all the doors and windows

"And tonight, I'll prove it to you."

Let's just say, you had trouble walking for awhile

(1) Жизнь моя, pronounced "Zhizn’ moya", means “my life” in Russian and is usually a term of endearment

Sigma

Oh my lord he is so understanding it's crazy

Although Sigma is the furthest thing from forgetful, his brain and schedule will always have room for stuff you need to remember

Got a doctor's appointment you forgot? He remembers and brings you to it

Forgot where you put something important? He knows where it is

Forgot to eat? He'll make you a meal himself

Forgot to meet up with a client? He'll meet them for you

Honestly, he gives you royalty treatment

He loves just giving you gifts in general, so he custom-made you an obsidian necklace that had a poker chip on it, The obsidian in his words was to represent how strong you are, and the poker chip was to remind you of him

It was one of the most thoughtful gifts ever

And you'd lost it

You debated just asking him at first,

But no. Too embarrassing

You'd worn it every day and now POOF

GONE?!

You didn't wanna worry your already busy partner with this

So you tore apart your half of the room before neatly searching through Sigma's half of the room

3 hours later and nothing.

For a second you debated throwing yourself off the sky casino

But then the click of your bedroom door was heard

"Oh my-"

You slowly looked up to see Sigma's confused face as he looked at your side of the room

For a while, he was silent in thought

"Are you.. redecorating-"

You groaned as you fell the rest of the way down on the floor

"I lost your necklace.. I didn't wanna ask you for help."

Sigma chuckles a bit as you look up at him

"That was actually my mistake"

Before you could ask, he walked over to his dresser and opened a small box, pulling it back out

"You'd accidentally left it in the bathroom"

Wow

The one place you didn't check

Definitely cuddles after though

Nikolai

He would not give zero shit's

He just loves you

He might make fun of you a bit, but he honestly just thinks you're adorable when you lose stuff

He asks Fyodor to buy you new things when you lose them rather than look for them-

He has such admiration and genuine interest in you that he gets you gifts tailored exactly to your interests

If you lose a gift from him, he honestly won't be mad

"Awe my Kindred Spirit,"

He grabs his cloak and reaches in, pulling out something even better

"Here does this make it better!?"

"Nikolai!"

He dances around the room with you to celebrate you being happy again

Ranpo

Oh he teases you, shame on you if you think he wouldn't

He gently teases you though, stopping if he gets even a slight hint it upsets you

Ranpo does have amazing patience though, there has never been a moment your forgetfulness has annoyed or bothered him once

He regularly gives you snacks as gifts, but he gave you a silly little necklace with a duck charm (Yes this is a Wan ref)

It was silly and cheap, but it was sweet

When you lost it you were crushed

You looked for it but could not find it

In the morning you went to the agency to try to search for it, but on your way there you actually met with Ranpo at a sweet store

"Hey there detective darlin'!"

He yelled as he ran out of the store

For internally freaked out a bit as he started excitedly telling you about the sale in the store

You chuckled nervously, making him immediately deduce what happened

"Ohhhhh, I see. You lost the Necklace!"

You kinda expected him to figure it out

He then chuckled as he walked over to a small quarter vending machine and pointed at the prizes

"Ya see! We can just keep playing till we get a new one!"

You two then had a small date of finding quarters and playing the Machine till you had a bag full of prizes, and a new duck necklace of course

Chuuya

Although Chuuya is a very understanding person, I can't deny this wouldn't slightly annoy him

He would never make fun of you for it, or make you feel bad though

He will always express that he's not mad at you and does his best to hide his slight frustration

He does understand though, I mean the man didn't remember the first 8 years of his life for years so

He is a little protective of you though. if anyone gave you shit for forgetting something he would a million percent throw hands

He leaves notes all over the house and your hands about important things, he will also text you to remind you about meals throughout the day

"Have you drank water"

"Ah, fuck-"

"Exactly"

Chuuya loves spending money on you

It's his favorite activity

You already have 20 custom-tailored outfits cause of his love for fashion,

But that doesn't mean he can't get you more tailored accessories

One of them was an anklet that had his and your initials in it, along with diamonds and your favorite stone

It was cute, although it was easily hidden by clothes, you wore it very often

You had on the perfect outfit to show it off that day, but when you opened up the cabinet you kept it in, it was gone.

Oh fuck

Panic ensues

The sheets were torn off your bed, and your closet full of clothes from him was searched from top to bottom

The bathroom was also searched along with Chuuya's half of the room

You sighed as you fixed the house, knowing Chuuya hates messes

You then reluctantly called him

"Hey, still at work but what's up doll?"

The softness in his voice made you tear up a bit in guilt

"Chuuya.. I-"

You took a pause to breathe

"I lost the Anklet you gave me."

You heard him gratefully sigh and shuffle in his chair a bit

"That pause made me think you were in trouble"

He joked a bit

"I can buy 20 more of those if I wanted to Sweetheart."

You sniffled a bit

"But that was important!"

He paused a bit

"Are you crying?"

You then paused

"No.."

"Baby."

You could hear him then walk through the halls of the Port Mafia building

"Give me just one sec, "

You heard him then knock on a door and open it

"Hey boss, I need to head home early. Let me know Tomorrow if there's anything else you need me for"

"Alright, I'm on my way home. We'll search together, okay?"

You sniffled a little as you smiled

"You're the best."

"Anything for you Angel."

[valyrfia]

*insert michael jackson gif*

Let it go with the excuses already, today was on him he couldn't even beat his teammate today how you people expect him to fight max?he will put it in the wall in the last lap, oh wait it already happened, my bad

also max recommended devries lol let's not take those guys words , charles is currently fighting fraud allegations, unless his 2019 or 2022 start is coming it's only going downhill

Okay, fine, I'll bite. Let's compare Charles's and Carlos's perfomances in order to try and determine with as little bias as possible.

In order to constrain our parameters of our investigation to their current abilities as drivers, let's take the our period of investigation to be the whole of the 2023 season, plus the first three races of the 2024 season. We'll exclude the following races for Carlos due to circumstances beyond his control: Qatar 2023 (fuel leak leading to DNS), Las Vegas 2023 (10 place grid penalty due to track not being properly maintained), Jeddah 2024 (appendicitis). Likewise, we'll exclude the following races for Charles due to circumstances beyond his control: Bahrain 2023 (DNF due to technical issues), Jeddah 2023 (10 place grid penalty due to exceeding allowed quota), COTA 2023 (DSQ), Brazil (DNS due to faulty hydraulics).

There are cases to be made for other races for both of them, but these are races where they were either involved in a collision leading to a DNF or where grid penalties apply, so there's argument for driver error there. With regard to grid penalties, we're going to go by the final decisions made by the stewards regardless of whether the penalties were appealed or not. Races where they suffered technical issues in race but they still finished are not counted, as it shows a driver's ability to handle an unpredictable car.

Before we discount the races listed above entirely, let's have a look at where the driver who didn't have difficulties finished.

So we're discarding pretty much the same number of points between them, so I feel happy discarding the following 7 races entirely from this analysis: Bahrain 2023, Jeddah 2023, Qatar 2023, COTA 2023, Brazil 2023, Las Vegas 2024, Jeddah 2024. Furthermore, in Las Vegas, Carlos finished 6th and in Jeddah, Charles finished 7th. This brings their points total across the discarded races to 46 for Carlos, 45 for Charles. However, Charles managed to score those points over fewer points-scoring races, and with a higher average finishing position, so for the sake of not convoluting ourselves we'll call it even and commit to just examining the points and stats of the remaining races not excluded from our investigation. The table below shows those stats. For simplification, sprints are not considered.

So I think there are a few key things we want to consider: overall performance, reasons for retirements and driver reliability over our chosen time period. So we'll go one by one for each and examine in a little more depth.

For overall performance, it's easiest to see in a quick head to head. Carlos wins in race wins, Charles wins in poles, they tie in number of retirements (although Carlos was classified in ABU23 due to finishing 90% of the race distance), Charles wins in higher average finishing position, Charles wins in higher points total.

Next, we move on to reasons for retirement. Charles retired twice, once upon collision with Lance in Australia 23, and once in Zandvoort due to a damaged floor. Carlos retired once in Belgium 23 due to a collision with Oscar Piastri and once in Abu Dhabi 23 due to being lapped and running last without pitting.

For driver reliability, I want to consider the variance in Charles and Carlos's race finishes for reliability. A quick recap for the non-STEM people who may be reading this: the variance measures the spread of numbers in a dataset, and how far away they are from the dataset's mean. Thus, a smaller variance indicates less spread in positions that a driver has finished in, in turn indicating higher reliability. Charles has a variance of 6.46, Carlos has a variance of 8.25. It is therefore possible to conclude that Charles is the more reliable driver of the two. While on the subject of reliability, it is also worth noting that Charles has not dropped outside the top 5 since Monza last year.

So overall, anon, I'm afraid I have to reject your notion that Charles is washed or even approaching becoming washed. The data show otherwise. The only category where Carlos is superior to Charles in our time frame is race wins, race wins where Charles deliberately adhered to Ferrari strategy in order to help Carlos, and Max Verstappen was out of commission for the win for one reason or another. Carlos wins in luck, but for driver reliability, points scored, finishing position, Charles is the clear winner and the numbers show it.

[misc-obeyme]

How many relationships (or hook-ups) do you think the Demon brothers (+ side characters) had before meeting MC?

All of them are very old and seeing how they live long lives surely they had some experiences, some more than the others.

I'm thinking out of everyone Asmo definitely had the most experience with others. But with Asmo most of his experience are from hookups since he's the most beautiful in all Devildom, so everyone would want to have their way with him. He probably tried going into serious relationships but that didn't go anywhere.

Lucifer's pride might have gotten in the way for him to form a serious relationship in the past (and he was still traumatised being cast out of heaven), but he definitely had hookups here and there. I can see Mammon trying in the past to enter a serious relationship, he was madly in love, but he got taken advantage of :(( Maybe he had hookups for money??

I'm sorry, but Leviathan is an Ancient Virgin. The only experience he had was his right hand. Again it's difficult to say with Satan. He tried relationships and hookups but he wasn't into it and sticks with romance/smut books instead??

I doubt Beelzebub had anything serious going on with someone but maybe he had a few hookups? Belphegor's the same with beelzebub, my guy is too lazy haha.

It's difficult to place Diavolo seeing how he's the next Demon king. This may sound dumb but maybe he had a lot of Physical experience (The best Succubus/incubus for the king! The best Orgies for the King!) but no romantic relationships seeing how easily everyone would want the crown for themselves and how much of a scandal that could be. This could also be said for Mephistopheles since he's a noble too.

Then there's my precious sexy ass Barbatos. It's hard to say but i low-key think he had a few flings here and there when he was still young and not a butler yet. He won't be seeking out any relationships/hookups anymore since he probably tried everything already and that could possibly distract him from his butler duties.

Raphael/Simeon are Angels so i doubt they had any experience in the past when it comes to Relationship/hookups. Solomon DEFINITELY had quite a lot of Relationships/hookups! This guy had a ton of Succubi and wives! As for Thirteen i assume she's not into Relationships/hookups until she meets Mc.

What are your thoughts on this?!

Now this is an interesting topic, anon. I've thought about it a lot, but I don't think I've managed to settle on a solid idea that I like best.

The rest is below a read more because I wrote A LOT, so this way people won't have to scroll as much.

Also NSFW below the read more due to the discussion of sex, but nothing explicit.

I think how experienced the characters are is going to depend on how sex is viewed in their respective realms.

We know how it is in the human world. I personally have a huge issue with the way sex is taboo in our world. It bothers me that there's so much suppression of it and that people are so concerned about stuff that really isn't that big of a deal. It feels manipulative and I've always felt the conservative view of it is the predominant one in our society, which only exists to control people. At least, this is my view of how I've seen it handled around me. So I feel it's important to note that I am a USAmerican. I also happened to grow up in a place that was ultra conservative while not being conservative myself so my opinion may be skewed.

Anyway, the only reason I'm talking about this is that it means I tend to prefer thinking of both the Devildom and the Celestial Realm as more free with this kind of stuff.

Especially the Devildom, but the idea that just because angels are angels means they've never experienced sex or relationships bothers me. I think it's because the CR touts itself as being the pinnacle of all things good and pure and in my opinion, sex is good and pure. I don't like thinking of it as a "sin." (PLEASE NOTE I'm discussing consensual sex between adults, obviously this is not the case for abusive situations.)

That being said, I'm also aware that this is my personal take on it, so it might not really make any sense. Like I just want the CR to be chill about it because that's what I would prefer, not because it necessarily makes sense for them to be chill about it lol.

In the context of the game, it makes more sense for the CR to not be chill about it.

But their stance necessarily alters how much experience I believe characters like the brothers and angels to have.

Because the brothers were obviously angels for a big chunk of their lives.

I also have a personal preference for characters who do have some experience. I think a first love/first sexual encounter is always extremely intense and can be toxic or problematic in ways that the inexperienced person is blind to. (Not necessarily of course, but you kind of move past that all encompassing devotion that you tend to have for your first.)

So for me, it's more appealing for the characters to have moved past that first experience and to have some knowledge of how love and relationships work. It isn't necessarily about the sex part, but sex is often entangled in love and it certainly complicates things.

Which means that in my own personal thoughts about it, Levi is the only one who could even manage to stay a virgin that long.

The reason for that is because he makes it pretty clear that he rarely leaves his room, especially after they fall.

Now if the CR is chill about sex, I think it's possible that Levi had some desperate sort of encounters while he was fighting as the Grand Admiral you know what I'm saying? But if we're going with the idea that they aren't chill, then yeah, he's probably still a virgin.

I do think it's possible that Levi isn't a virgin, though. I honestly think you could easily come up with a situation in which he actually did have the opportunity come up. Maybe he even fell in love with someone over an online message board before meeting them in person. I just think there are options, you know? And in the end, it depends on what you prefer.

In fact, I would say I kinda feel this way about all the characters. I think you could say all of them are virgins if you wanted to. Lucifer, for instance. CR isn't chill, so he never did anything as angel. After he fell, too dedicated to his work and Diavolo to even bother pursuing anybody and always immediately shutting down anyone who came onto him so as not to get distracted.

That's just an example, I'm saying you can change these details to fit with your preference for any of them, though I think Asmo would be the hardest lol.

So here are my ideas on all of the characters, based on the concept that the CR is not stupid and instead chill about sex:

Lucifer is experienced, but not by a ton. In the CR, he's too busy being a seraph and keeping all his lil siblings in line. Maybe there are a couple of people who catch his eye and while he might indulge, I don't think he'd have had a relationship. After they fall, he retreats into himself. At this point, if you're into DiaLuci, that could start to become a thing. But I also think you could say that maybe he had a little bit of time where he kind of went crazy, going out and doing all the things he maybe didn't have time to before, more as a bad way of coping with the reality of the fall and the loss of his sister. After time, when they all get settled, I think it's an every once in a while kinda thing. He just doesn't strike me as the guy who'd have time for relationships unless it was with someone like Diavolo or MC (or Solomon... yes I'm still on the solulu train just you wait). He doesn't have any reason to let someone that close to him, you know?

Mammon, I agree with you on. I think he probably wanted to be in a relationship and likely fell hard for someone, only to have his heart broken. Thus his tsundere attitude now. It's a defense mechanism. I think that could have happened in the CR and then once he fell, he would just do the hookup thing, especially when he's out partying or gambling or something. It doesn't mean anything. He's still protecting his heart until MC comes along.

Levi we've discussed, but I do think he's either a virgin or maybe had some fumbling moments in war time, you know. Pluuuus I kinda think he was probably admired by a lot of angels during that time. So you know.

Satan has a whole stretch of time where he's just trying to figure himself out. I think he'd be cautious about a relationship due to his wrath. I always think of Satan as being super romantic, but he's also concerned about his own anger. He's afraid to hurt people because of it. So I kinda think he'd hold off. He likely had some hookups and such, but I don't think he'd have a full blown relationship until he felt it was someone who truly understood him.

Asmo I agree with you on, but I also think he could have had a serious relationship at some point. I kinda see it both ways. He might not because he doesn't want to tie himself down to any one person, but I think he can also fall in love passionately. So I think he could've had one really intense relationship that inevitably fell apart.

Beel is such a sweetheart, I can imagine someone else falling in love with him easily or other people kinda throwing themselves at him. I don't think Beel would've refused them, either. But I don't think he had a serious relationship, maybe just short ones here and there, probably some hookups, but nothing more.

Belphie I think could go a lot of ways, but I kinda see him being mostly uninterested. He might have had a couple hookups over the years, just because there are so many years and there's no way the opportunity didn't arise at some point. But I don't think he ever cared about anyone enough to pursue a legit relationship.

Okay, now bear with me here, but I kinda like the idea that Diavolo and Mephistopheles hooked up lol. I mean, they were childhood friends, right? Maybe when they got older and started having those thoughts and such, they were like hey... why not? I think it's really cute when bffs decide to be each other's first, even if they never intend to have a serious relationship, you know? Just another reason for Mephisto to hate Lucifer lol. Otherwise I would say Mephisto is probably pretty picky. I think he's more likely to only have been in a serious relationship, considering hookups kinda beneath him.

But aside from that, it's going to depend on what's expected of royalty in the Devildom. I can't imagine they'd have a rule about it, though. It's the Devildom, you know? So I think Diavolo has likely had hookups, but I do think it's a rare occurrence now that he's focused on running the Devildom and united the worlds and all that.

Barbatos, my true love. I like the idea that he was a bit promiscuous in his younger days, traveling through space and time and doing whatever pleased him. He might have been more passionate, more likely to fall in love, a little more free with himself physically. But ever since becoming a butler, I think he clamps down on that quite a bit, just like he does with everything else. He's certainly experienced and I don't think he's like not ever doing anything since becoming a butler, just that he doesn't do it as often as he once did. He's had a few relationships in the past, I think, but not since he started working for Diavolo. He's too dedicated and spends all his time in the castle.

Simeon and Raphael are going to depend on the CR again, but if we're still in my preference of the CR being cool about it, then I think Simeon at least is no virgin. He's too pretty and there is no way a million angels have not come on to him. And like I don't think he'd just fall into the bed of any angel that batted their eyelashes at him, I do think that he's secretly very passionate. Under that cool exterior, he loves hotly and I think he'd have fallen for someone at some point, giving them all of himself. Now he's older and more calm and collected and carrying the grief of losing Lucifer and his brothers.

Raphael I'm not so sure about. Because on the one hand, he's clearly quite passionate too in a "here are the spears" sort of way. But he was also super dedicated to his goal of becoming a seraph, so I don't know if he even had the room for any kind of relationship. Might still be a virgin. But I think you could go either way with him.

Solomon is a human and he's been around for ages there's no way he's still a virgin. I know I said you could make it work, but wow, that'd be tough to do with him, I think. He's like nah, the 700 wives and 300 concubines (or whatever the numbers were lol) are just for show, I didn't actually do anything with them! Wait, no but he had kids. Well you could say that Biblical lore doesn't apply to your story adsklfjdf

However. Solomon is known for being incredibly lonely. Even if he had relationships, he likely had them with other humans who inevitably died and left him alone again. So I think after his normal human lifespan ended and he had to start moving around more and kind of dedicated himself to magic, he likely stopped having relationships of any kind (love or friendship or anything) because it hurt too much. I think he could have hookups or one night stands with people he never saw again. But not so much a relationship.

Thirteen I dunno. That woman is hot af. I could see her having to turn down a lot of advances. I think she might have had some hookups, maybe even a relationship, but nothing too serious. She strikes me as a little more lighthearted about this kind of stuff. Like you know life is fleeting and in the end I'll just have to reap you anyway lol. I don't think she would get serious until MC.

ANYWAY. Sorry for this absolute NOVEL of a response. I didn't realize just how much I had to say until I started... and then I couldn't stop. I hope that somewhat answered the question, anyway??? In the end, I think it's possible to have all the characters as experienced or inexperienced as you like!

[i-need-of-a-hobby]

~tdp season 6 spoilers for anyone who cares~

ok WOW. i have so many thoughts on this season but im gonna start with the IMPLICATIONS OF RUNAAN BEING BACK

there are so many ways this can go, i really hope the next season gives this the weight it deserves since the possibilities are ENDLESS

callum and ezran dealing with the fact that this is the man who killed their dad, and after everything thats happened and everything they've learned about elves/xadia and how nothing is as black and white as 'elves are evil monsters', it doesnt change the fact that runaan has harrow's blood on his hands

also, runaan is not unlike harrow for rayla, kinda like the dad that stepped up to take care of these kids that weren't theirs. its not the same of course, raylas parents chose to leave her for the greater good, whereas callum's dad passed away, but after they introduced what callum does know about his father this season, i would love to see this get explored

and runaans relationship with rayla??? shes such a different person than she was at the beginning of the show/the last time he saw her. season one rayla was angry and repressed and down with murder if she thought it was justified, and of course she was, she was still grieving the loss of her parents and dealing with her whole "they were cowards" complex, trying to redeem herself and it shapes so many of her early show decisions. hell, she spent two years alone because of her issues and tendency to self isolate but she's grown so much, she's so much more comfortable expressing her emotions and showing kindness instead of giving everyone the cold shoulder.

and on that note, runaan was one of the key figures in teaching rayla all the ideas that cloud her early show judgement, all of the "hide your emotions," "you're too soft for this" stuff that lead to him actually fighting her during the full moon. how's he going to react to her having spent almost 3 years unlearning all of that. even if he does turn out to have been pulling a 2019 shadowsan "i was doing this to protect you" thing, that doesn't undo everything rayla put herself through

the return of ethari>>>>>>

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Now Presenting...

Starring: A Love-Sick Nanami Kento

Synopsis:You and Nanami have been friends for benefits for quite a while now, with no issue! At least, no issue as far as you knew. Kento's caught feelings for you though, and even though he knows he should stay away and get over this crush, he simply can't ignore your 1:45 am "You Up?" text.

Warning: This fic is a drabble containing angst (if ya squint), fluff, and is really just smut with some plot thrown in. Rating NC17, Reader Discretion is advised ;)

Oh, and if you'd like, why not check out my Masterlist?

Nanami was awake again. It was 1:45 in the morning, and he was awake. Fuck. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He wondered if he should just give up the fight; accept that he was just going to be tired in the morning and indulge his Netflix binging demons. He sighed in defeat, grabbing the remote. Before he could turn anything on though, his phone vibrated next to him. He grabbed it before his brain could fully register what he was doing.

It was 1:45 in the morning. Only one person in the world was going to text him at 1:45 in the morning. He checked his messages and yep. Just as he was expecting. 

One New Message from Darling: hey, you awake?

Nanami was pretty sure he was worth more than a generic “You Up” text. In fact, He knew he was. And he knew that responding to that text was the worst possible thing he could do at that moment. He wanted far more out of this than she ever would. Catching feelings was probably the second stupidest thing a person could do, preceded only by continuing to sleep with the person you have one sided feelings for. He wouldn’t do that to himself.

Yeah, I’m up. Why are you awake?

God damn it Kento. He cursed himself silently for doing this to himself again. One day one day he would grow a spine strong enough to put his phone down when she messaged, or at least put it on silent. But apparently that day was clearly not today. He groaned softly as he propelled himself out of bed, grabbing a shirt to throw on. The first top he touched was an ancient Tool shirt from when he was still in college. He thought about grabbing something nicer, but ultimately threw it on. Not like he’d be wearing it for long anyway. He did manage to put on jeans to look at least a little more put together.

Darling: I’m thinking about you ;) I got a bottle of Blue Label that’s been begging me to open it. Wanna come help me drink it?

Not really. Nanami wasn’t a huge fan of blended scotch. He knew this, he knew you knew this. But, it wasn’t about the scotch, was it?

Johnnie Walker? I’m already on my way.

He hoped the sarcasm read through the text. He hoped the sarcasm didn’t read through the text. He didn’t really know what he hoped for honestly. What he did know was that he wanted to be with you. He was also pretty sure you didn’t want to be with him in the same way, and that he should at least try to get some distance. He wanted to get over this crush. He didn’t want to get over this crush. He grabbed his keys, deciding he’d sort out his tangled emotions some other time. 

🥀🥀🥀

He always felt silly trying to get his nerves together long enough to knock on your door. He was a fully grown man getting butterflies at the thought of being with a girl, it was silly! But, at the same time, it wasn’t just a girl. It was Y/n. It was a girl who had always been there with him, and supported him though some of the darker times in his life. The girl he thought he was going to marry back when he was in highschool. The girl he wouldn’t mind wifing up now if she gave him the chance. But, why would she? He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

You were all smiles when you opened the door, wearing a sleep set Nanami knew you didn’t actually sleep in. It was small, and clung to you perfectly, only a few steps away from being basically lingerie. It made him proud to know you wore it for him. 

“Well hello Gorgeous,” He smiled, placing a hand on your hip and leaning in to kiss your cheek, “Do you always get dressed up so pretty to go to sleep?” He teased.

“Nope, only when I’m expecting company.” You giggled, moving out of the door to let him in. 

“You get company in the middle of the night often?” He asked as he sat on your couch, trying to hide his absolutely unfounded jealousy. 

“Check your phone if you really want the answer.” you said as you closed the door and joined him on the sofa. He chuckled softly, happy to know he was your only late night visitor. You smiled as you curled into his side, taking in his familiar warmth. He wrapped his arm around you to pull you closer. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You asked.

“No, not at all,” He assured you, “You know I don’t sleep anyway.” He joked. He’d struggled with insomnia and night terrors for years. If anything, the distraction alone was welcome.

“You really should work on that,” you joked, “Sleep is important you know.”

“You're one to talk,” he laughed, “You’re up too you know.”

“Hey, I tried to go to sleep!” You protested with a giggle, “It’s not my fault I woke up. I had a dream.”

“Is that so?” Nanami asked, tilting his head at you in amusement. “And what were you dreaming about, Beautiful?” you grinned and bit your lip, deciding to use this opportunity to take some initiative. You moved to placed yourself on top of

him, putting one of your legs on either side of his hips and placing your hands on his shoulders for balance.

“I was dreaming about you Kento,” You purred softly to him. He smiled, placing his hands firmly on your hips to keep you stable. God, you always looked gorgeous from this view. It was his favorite way to have you.

“Were you now Princess?” He muttered, “What were we doing in your dream?” 

“This.” You said, leaning down to kiss him. Smooth. He chuckled softly before pulling you in closer, pulling your bottom lip into his teeth. You gasped softly at the gentle pain, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

There was something undeniably right about kissing Nanami. The way his mouth fit perfectly against yours, the way his soft lips moved, how he always tasted like strong tea and mint. You would kiss Nanami for an eternity if the world would have let you. And he would have happily obliged. 

His left hand glided up from your hip to tangle in your hair. He gave it a quick, sharp tug, lighting a fire in your core and pulling a soft moan from your throat. Nanami chuckled softly.

“You sound so pretty when you do that.” He said, his right hand moving in between your legs, leaving you clinging to his shoulders for balance. “I want to hear more.” Your shorts were small enough you might as well have not bothered with them. It was only when he moved the crotch aside that he realized why you had.

“Commando huh?” He teased, “It’s almost like you were expecting this.”

“Oh shut up-!” You tried to laugh, but Nanami’s thick fingers running up your slit cut your words off. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Princess, were you saying something? I didn’t quite catch that.” He smirked, swirling tight circles into your puffy clit. You could feel the slick gather between your legs, killing any retort you had before it escaped your lips. Nanami knew your body better than anyone else you’d ever been with, and took every opportunity he could to remind you of that fact when the two of you were together. 

Every movement of his digits sent another wave of illicit electricity through you and to your core. Wave after wave, building up into a riptide pleasure threatening to take you underneath it. You moaned out shakily, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gripped him tighter, getting lost in ecstasy.

And Nanami couldn’t get enough of the sight. You always looked breathtaking, but something about watching you come undone on top of him always set his heart into overdrive. “Fuck, you look so pretty.” He muttered to you, “Feel good?” He asked. You nodded to him. You had about one good sentence left in you, and you wanted to use it for this.

“P-please Sir…wanna cum on your cock..” You whimpered to him, looking up at him from under long lashes. Fuck. Kento was honestly lucky he didn’t cum right then and there in his jeans. You always knew exactly what to say to leave him even further wrapped around your finger, a slave to your every beck and call. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” He grinned. He took the opportunity to rip the crotch of your shorts in two, giving him much easier access. You didn’t really care about losing the cheap set, much more interested in unbuttoning Kentos jeans and getting his cock into you. You bit your lip as you got him out. You wouldn’t say this about many guys, but Kento genuinely had a pretty dick.

His hands found your hips, and despite his better judgment his eyes met yours as he guided you down onto his length. This was always his favorite part, the part that played on repeat in his head on nights when you didn’t text him. Watching the way your eyes screwed shut, how you bit your lip, the sharp breath you pulled in as you braced for impact. Fuck. He let out a shaky moan as he finally pushed into you, your velvety walls pulling him even further in.

“Kento, fuck” You moaned out, sharp spikes of pleasure rippled out from your core as he graced your g-spot. You could feel yourself quiver around him. You were so close earlier, you knew you weren’t going to last long now. 

“Jesus christ, you belong in a museum.” Kento mumbled as he took in your features. You were a piece of art to be praised and prized, and he fully intended to make you believe that you were. He bucked his hips up, and you saw stars. 

“You feel so good Sir,” You muttered, tangling your fingers into Nanami’s hair and pressing your forehead to his. Every movement of his hips sent another wave of euphoria through you, only intensifying the tsunami building up inside of you and pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Nanami was lost. He could feel his heart rate picking up, and it wasn’t from the physical activity he was performing. You were so close, too close. Your soft breathy moans filled his ears, your scent filled his lungs. You felt so, so perfect in his arms. He was convinced only you could make such a sinful act look so divine. Against his will, thoughts of your laugh and your smile entered his mind. 

Memories of the two of you working perfectly together, celebrating all the events in your life together, big and small. You may have seen a friend when you looked at him, or worse, a late night hook up. But when he looked at you, he saw the woman he wanted to build a life with.

 “God, you're perfect Y/n,” He whispered to you, “You’re so fucking good for me, so pretty. So fucking sweet and kind, and fuck. I love you Y/n.”

FUCK.

“Wai, wha?” You slurred, trying to look at him. Nanami was quick though, flipping you off of him and onto your hands and knees before you could see his panicked eyes. He did not just fucking say that, motherfucker Kento! What were you thinking?!

“I said, I fucking love your cunt,” He rasped out, ramming into you with enough force to hopefully knock the memory out of your mind. You found your face shoved into one of your decorative pillows while he rammed into you from behind. The new angle left you screaming profanities into the pillow. Every push of his hips set your blood on fire, creating an inferno inside your core that threatened to burn you alive.

“Kento!” You yelled out.

“Yea, that’s right Princess, say it again.” Nanami said, trying to distract himself from his colossal mistake. It wasn’t hard to do when your pussy was gripping him like a vice, pulling him right back in every time he pulled out. He held your hips tight enough to leave bruises you could take fingerprints off of. He wanted you to remember he was there when he was gone. 

“Kento, please, I-I’m close..” You stuttered out, feeling the knot in your stomach get tighter and tighter.

“Is that right pretty girl?” He asked, pushing into you with a vengeance. This was probably going to be the last time you called him over, he was going to make the most of it. His right hand slipped down your body, and two of his fingers found your clit. He massaged expert circles into it, pulling a truly embarrassing moan from you. His every move sent your nervous system into overdrive. Your head was filling with fluff and your blood felt explosive.

“Then come on. Cum all over my cock like the dirty girl you are.” Something in his words and everything in his movements sang to your pleasure receptors. A few more swirls from his fingers and a few more thrusts of his hips and you were coming undone. The knot inside your stomach exploded into a thousand waves of pleasure and oxytocin. You swear you saw white as the tsunami overtook you. 

And Nanami wasn’t that far behind. The way you seized around him, your warm walls enveloping him and trying to pull him impossibly further in undid him. He barely managed to pull out, cumming all over your back and ass as he did. It was a pretty fucking sight. He would have taken a picture if he was about 40% more coherent. 

You collapsed face first onto the couch, and Nanami braced himself on the back, still breathing hard. His confession was still ringing in his head. Did you buy his lie? Probably not. You were smarter than that. 

Fuck.

Once his breathing started to regulate, he finally stood up, fixing his pants and going to your bathroom. He returned not long later with a warm, damp washcloth, cleaning up the mess he made on your back. You groaned out softly.

“Sorry about the mess.” He muttered once you were cleaned up. His fingers gently traced the outline of your spine before he patted you gently. “Come on, let's get you to bed.” He muttered. 

He threw the rag in your hamper as he got you into your bed. “Stay with me?” You muttered softly. Oh, good. That probably meant you didn’t hear his confession. Or you did and were completely okay with leading him on forever. But, that wasn’t like you. He nodded and laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was only going to make things worse for him in the end. But he couldn't help it. All he ever wanted was to be close to you.

“Hey Kento?” You muttered softly.

“Yea Y/n?” He asked softly.

“I love you too.”

[ataraxiaspainting]

Cherry Wine.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Synopsis: It is your last day of actual freedom, and Chrollo intends to have it end with a mix of your design and his own. Everything is perfectly set. All he has to do now is wait for you to come into the web.

Warnings: Yandere themes, a wild Feitan appears, stalking, drugging/restraining (chloroform/handcuffs), and kidnapping.

Word Count: 1k.

*~*~*~*

A familiar jingle accompanies the turntable’s rendition of Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers. It is your keychain, moving with your key as you unlock your apartment door, moving as your feet shuffle on your doormat to get rid of the dirt the soles had acquired from walking. The sounds of tired sighs, your headphones being placed beside the rack where your jackets and umbrellas and shoes are placed. Chrollo knows all of these melodies by heart because those notes make up the beautiful orchestra that is you. 

He hears the little creaking noise of the door closing, along with the lock being turned, sealing your fate. A small sound of the closet you keep near the entrance, which holds your bags and fancier footwear like high heels. Chrollo respected the silent rule of never wearing shoes inside, something that is out of character for him whenever he breaks into other peoples’ homes, and had placed his own black loafers behind that one expensive purse you only used one time for a presentation you had to make for your professors and peers. 

He had Shalnark record the entire thing and has rewatched it multiple times, each one seeming better than the last.

Everything about you, from how you walked, how you were so expressive with your facial expressions, how you seemed to be able to befriend anyone, everything about you felt like it came from another world. Or perhaps he is the one who came from another world, metaphorically? Chrollo chuckles at the thought. It would make sense, really, Meteor City felt like another world, that is for certain.

One of your cats meows loudly, the larger but older one from the way the meow was scratchy like nails on a blackboard, most likely being right next to you. He is distressed, perhaps. Chrollo is an unwanted visitor, after all, and despite being more of a cat person, he had to deal with your cats more than your dog, oddly enough. While your dog cowered and hid under the table, whining like she had been reduced to that of the small puppy she was when you first adopted her, your cats teamed up to attempt to scratch his eyes out whenever they jumped on the kitchen table or couch, hissing and possibly screaming bloody murder. Somewhere deep within Chrollo’s heart, it hurts a bit.

He knows that because of your naivety, you will just pet the cat, take off your coat, and your boots, and go upstairs, where your dining table has been set by Chrollo. It’s a welcome gift, in Chrollo’s opinion, but also perhaps an apology one as well.

As soon as you walk into the kitchen, your fate is as doomed as a little fly caught in a spider’s web.

“Come on,” You grumble. “Already? Geez. I just got that bag too…” Are you talking to your cat? “What the hell? I know you have stomach problems but… gosh.”

Ah. Do you plan on switching out the brand of cat food again?

“I guess that’s my own fault though for getting a cat I knew has digestive issues, huh? I can’t be mad at you. You’re almost the same age as me and… that’s a lot in cat years.” Chrollo hears the sound of a yawn as he presumes you are stretching. You must be tired, you have been on your feet all day today helping out your peers with their assignments, as usual. “It’s just now I have to clean up all this puke… argh.”

Should I speed things along? 

A text message from Feitan, who has been outside your apartment door, though you didn’t see him, unsurprisingly. He is most likely getting annoyed, from the tone of the writing, because Feitan can be doing much more important things for the Troupe instead of helping you “settle in” as Chrollo put it.

That won’t be necessary. Trust me. Everything is going as planned so far, even if this is a minor setback.

The reason why Chrollo didn’t choose someone like Phinks or Nobunaga to help him with this task is because Feitan is the most silent. He can easily imagine the other two scaring you away accidentally if they accidentally lose their cover.

The table is set, with flowers and books and other things you love. All he has to do is wait.

You should have just brought Machi.

Chrollo sighs at that, just barely audible. But he knows Feitan is nothing but loyal to him, so he knows that he will not try anything that he does not like.

Machi is busy shopping with Paku and Shizuku for the other things I need for [First], it would be rude to ruin their own task, Fei.

With that, Chrollo’s message is left on read.

Everything is going according to plan, and Feitan will not ruin it, even if he had wanted to.

All that is left is to wait. You’ll come on your own.

Feitan is only here if you attempt to run afterward, after you see your gifts, after all.

He hears footsteps, coming up the stairs, at long last.

One.

Two.

A large meal is placed on the side of the table that has an empty chair. Chrollo sits across, smiling. Plates and bowls filled with things that are sweet, savory, and everything else in between. They are all your favorites, Chrollo double-checked with Shalnark before he had left. Other items are placed on the table as well, like that jewelry set you were eyeing last week but unfortunately was too expensive for you. You were trying to limit how much you spend, a good habit to build surely. It is a shame you will never get to use that skill, though. Unless Chrollo gives you an allowance each week based on how well you behave, an entertaining concept in his opinion, but if it ever becomes reality it will have to wait a few weeks at the very least.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Chrollo also had Feitan carry handcuffs, in case the chloroform does not work as it was intended to.

But that is after you two talk, it would be rude to not introduce himself and show off everything he has bought for you.

Seven.

[mistressroxielove]

Hey everyone~ I got some more stuff for ya~

Long story short, I've discovered the new Fairly Oddparents reboot, absolutely loved it and was inspired to make this AU idea for the show! With a slight reimagine/redesign of the characters as well.

Here's some more info about my AU:

Fairly Odd Parents AU/Rewrite

Au Name: FairlyOdd Brother

Summary:

Perri (previously known as Poof) recently graduated from Fairy Godparents School and is eager to start granting Wishes for his very own godchild! Only problem is that with his lack of experience Jorgen is weary of giving him an assignment and keeps finding excuses/reasons to not give him a godkid. Realizing it might be a 1,000 years before they give him a chance to be a Fairy Godparent, Perri decides he needs to be a little bold and perhaps, bend Da Rules, to get his foot in the door so to speak. And his answer comes to him from a new neighbor in his human home, a family with a sweet shy 10 year old girl who is absolutely miserable. Perhaps Perri might be able to offer this girl a little comfort and fun as her new Fairy Godbrother!?

(Basically the same premise of the show, except Perri’s first godchild is Hazel, and through a technicality in the rule book, becomes her god brother instead of her godparent.)

ALSO please note this AU is more of a slight reimagine of the original show, meaning I did tweaked / changed some of the characters personality to match the new story I made for them. Nothing majorly different, but again just a heads up before you read on. Hope you like it~

Name: Devin “Dev” Dimmadome 

Age: 9/almost 10

Sex: Male

Physical Description: 

Is basically the same as in the show, though there are a few key differences. 

-Despite having slicked back hair he always has a single strand that no matter what always sticks out, he hates it and is always trying to move it back into place but to no avail. In reality without the hair product he has natural curly hair like his father, though his curls are a little more difficult to comb and manage than his father, something that he doesn’t like about himself

-Has freckles! But always wears makeup to cover them as according to Dale’s research are ’less desirable’ and would statistically do better with them covered up

-Also has heterochromia, one blue and one green eye, but always wears either a blue or green contacts to hide his ‘flaw’, again being told to do so by his father

- Though he is always required to wear a branded white hoodie, Dale actually lets him wear whatever shirt he wants underneath, just with the promise Dev never takes his sweater off in public. Dev usually wears all sorts of geeky and nerdy shirts, mostly love meridian and Crimson Chin related stuff, it's the closes thing he’s allowed to wear ‘freely’ without requiring his father’s approval. Again this ‘freedom’ is kinda pointless since he still has to wear the hoodie, but he still appreciates it.   

-As you can see in the photo above I showed what he looks typically on the left, and on the right is basically what Dev would dress like if he had no rules or restrictions.

Personality: 

It's basically exactly the same as in the show, I really like Dev both in a story sense and a comedic sense so nothing to really change. The only slight difference is that Dev in this version clearly gets a crush on Hazel in this version. I think the show is ‘hinting’ of them possibly being a couple later on, but in my version I wanted to make it a little more clear that he has a subconscious crush on her. Basically think Anya and Damion from Spy x Family if you want a good example. He likes her, but being a 10 year old boy with severe daddy issues has no idea how to handle this and ends up being kinda mean to his regret. 

Other fun facts:

-I won’t get into it now, but his relationship with his father is a bit different, as I have a unique take on Dale and who he is as a person. I’ll probably draw him next but for now just know Dale isn’t an evil heartless father and there’s more to him than it seems, and thus the relationship between Dale and Dev is a little more complex.

-And yes though it isn’t important yet, he does end up getting Cosmo and Wanda as his fairy godparents instead of Hazel as the AU would suggest.

- In this version Peri is also not a big fan of Dev. As he obviously doesn’t like how he’s mean to her at first, but as they become friends and Peri soon realizes that Dev has a crush on Hazel this leaves Peri horrified at the thought. And of course being a proper big brother is completely against and despises the idea of Dev and Hazel ever ending up together. He’s not too over the top about his dislike, but definitely would be sitting in to conor with his arms crossed, while trying to subtly tell Hazel she could do soooooooo much better than him.   

I hope you guys like this, I'm personally really happy with how this design turned out, especially his 'real Dev' design on the right. But I would love to hear your guys thoughts and opinions about my designs. Do you like them, hate them? Feel free to tell me below.

Also tomorrow I'll post a version of this photo with a transparent BG and maybe upclose shots of the design as well, just so you can see the design easier without the BG

Previous - Next

[nori-the-cat]

hello, could you please do a reading on how jake from enhypen would be like as a bf? thank you. <3

yes i can <3

What is Jake like as a boyfriend?

Remember: This reading offers possibilities, not guarantees. Jake's true personality and relationship style would depend on his individual experiences and choices. This is for entertainment purposes only

As a boyfriend:

Tarot cards: knight of cups, justice, and six of pentacles

Right of the bat, I can tell he’s a charmer. Jake’s a charmer. He’s a romantic guy too.

Jake's a romantic guy who's very good at picking up on his partner’s feelings. He also doesn't hold back when it comes to showing how much he cares (knight of cups).

However, Jake put so much emphasis on being fair. It’s likely that he would be romantic with his partner if they’re also doing the same for him.

The Justice card hints that Jake values honest communication and a balanced dynamic in relationships. He probably wants to hear your perspective and have honest conversations.

Fairness seems to be a big deal for Jake. He likely wants a relationship where both parties have a say and feel treated equally (think "give and take").

The key is to make Jake feel like his effort is being recognised. This way, Jake would do everything for his partner. This is because Jake is a provider (six of pentacles).

I say this because when it comes to relationships, Jake might be generous with his time and resources, always there to lend a hand. He likely values financial stability and wants to build a secure future together.

Based on these cards, Jake is a charmer and a romantic person. However, he won’t show this side of him easily until he feels appreciated or when the relationship feels balanced enough (think give and take). Once Jake feels like his expectations are met, he will shower his partner with love and money.

Jake’s Potential Red Flag in a Relationship:

Tarot cards: nine of pentacles, the emperor, and the moon reversed

Okay this guy reminds me of Jungwon a bit. They both have something in common and that is worrying too much about materialistic things (nine of pentacles).

Nine of pentacles to me also means control.

In a relationship reading, Jake might be overly concerned with material possessions or financial security. He might also have a tendency to control aspects of the relationship to feel secure (nine of pentacles).

This is off topic. Jake might be into women with power or has material possessions. Jungwon might be into them too.

With the Emperor card next to the right of the nine of pentacles further emphasised Jake’s need to control his romantic relationship.

I tried to dig deeper whether this is need to control or dominate the relationship. However, he doesn’t feel domineering, but controlling? Yes.

While positive aspects are leadership and decisiveness (the emperor), a shadow side can be dominance and a need to be in charge. This card reinforces the control aspect from the Nine of Pentacles Reversed.

Another irony is that, although Jake puts emphasis on give and take and honest communication. Jake might struggle with expressing his true feelings or have a tendency to withdraw emotionally.

These cards tells me Jake is someone with control issues and or has tendencies to control his relationships. Despite his need to control his relationship, he struggles to show and express his emotions openly. This could make his partner feel suffocated and the relationship would lack emotional connection, especially with the emphasis on material issues.

Jake’s Green Flags in a Relationship

Tarot cards: the emperor, two of cups reversed, the world, nine of cups, and king of cups

Jake has controlling issues. It is both his greatest strength and weakness.

Jake may be controlling, but he does it because he is someone who takes initiatives. The Emperor card, though sometimes pointing to control, can also mean strong leadership, clear decision-making, and a deep sense of responsibility. In a relationship, Jake might be the one who takes charge, offers support and direction, and works towards building a secure and lasting foundation for his partner.

While this card can indicate an imbalance, two of cups reversed can also suggest a willingness to overcome challenges and work towards a stronger connection. Jake might be open to addressing any imbalances in the relationship and working towards harmony.

These cards alone tells me Jake is someone who takes control of his romantic relationship, but sometimes it can come off as controlling. Most of the time he might take initiative and wants to be seen as the one wearing the pants in the relationship.

The world card also suggests ake might be someone who seeks a long-term, committed relationship that brings him a sense of fulfillment. This card compliments Jake's need of controlling the relationship because he might be the type to want the relationship to last long. However, this could translate as "This is how I do things".

Thankfully, with the nine of cups and king of cups, Jake's green flags compliments his red flags. Although he can be controlling. Jake is someone who is prioritizes his partner's happiness and actively tries to fulfill their needs and desires (nine of cups) and might be a supportive and understanding boyfriend who is attuned to his partner's emotional needs.

Based on these cards, Jake seems like a reliable, supportive, and emotionally intelligent boyfriend. He values a balanced and fulfilling relationship, takes initiative, and actively seeks to make his partner happy.

Jake's Love Language:

Tarot cards: eight of swords reversed, page of pentacles, and the world

Based on these cards, Jake's primary love language seems to be a combination of Acts of Service and Quality Time, with an emphasis on growth within the relationship.

Eight of Swords: In a love language context, it suggests Jake might express his love by taking initiative and doing things to make his partner's life easier (Acts of Service).

Page of Pentacles: Jake might express his affection by doing things for you. These gestures would demonstrate his commitment and how much he wants to learn about what makes his partner tick.

The World: In a love language context, could suggests Jake sees a relationship as a journey of growth together, where both partners support each other's development.

Love Language Interpretation:

Quality Time: Quality time seems important to Jake, but with a focus on shared growth and experiences. He might enjoy activities that allow for deeper connection and learning, like taking a class together or exploring a new hobby (The World).

Acts of Service: Jake might express his love by going out of his way to make his partner's life easier or show he's been paying attention to his partner's needs. Imagine, Jake doing the dishes after a meal. He would do it because it makes his partner's life easier.

Chanelled song for Jake:

This is also a requested tarot reading from user @jakesangel.♡

[seresinhangmanjake]

everything and all of it

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: You’ve been back in California for a week but you and Jake have yet to sleep together. You both have your own anxiety over the situation, but Jake has missed you for so long and he’s determined to get to the bottom of the issue. 

Notes: Suggested by @gigisimsonmars​ (it is slightly different though) / Part of the Oh, Baby Universe. 

Warnings: Smut, so 18+, but lots of fluff. Body insecurities. Multiple mentions of pregnancy. Sexual insecurity. 

Words: 4600

---- He’d spent a lot of time—too much, likely—imagining what it would be like if you came back to him. Every possible scenario. Every move he would make. Every word from his mouth. Upon seeing your face, he wondered what instinct would have him do first. Kiss you before you disappeared again? Cup your cheek, feel your skin, to make sure you were real? Or just hold you so he could be reminded of the weight of your body against his, of how perfectly you fit together. 

In those fantasies that constantly ran through his head, he was never upset with you. He didn’t guilt you or demand apologies. Regardless of how, each scenario ended the same—with kisses and words of love and being wrapped up in bedsheets by the end of the night. Life would always fall back into place as if you had never left. 

But when you came back, the relief of your return had Jake forgetting how reality often worked. Things didn’t put themselves back together as seamlessly as he would’ve liked. Yes, he had you, he had his daughter; you slept in his bed and he held you every night and he kissed you and you kissed him back. But you’d yet to take things further. And that nagged the little prickly, sensitive spots in his brain. 

After a week of you back in California, you were still pulling away from him. For whatever reason, a piece of you—the piece that once begged for him as much as he had begged for you—wasn’t there. When his kisses moved to your neck the way you liked, you stepped out of his arms. When his hands slipped under your shirt, you brushed them away. You would look up at him with a sad smile and find the sudden need to go check on your daughter, and the next day the pattern would repeat. 

He didn’t want to push you, and he sure as hell didn’t want you to feel like you owed him. He just missed you. He missed the closeness of sharing skin and sweat and pleasure. He missed hearing you moan for him and the whimpers that he pulled from your lips. And he really didn’t think rebuilding that connection would be so hard. Because sex is easy. Sex is a no-brainer; he always knew that. Sex doesn’t have to mean anything until it means everything. But with you, it meant everything, and he needed to know why you didn’t want it, him, anymore. 

—

Jake didn’t consider himself a schemer, but that didn’t stop him from enlisting the help of Bob, Rooster, and Phoenix for babysitting duty. And with how obsessed his team was with his daughter, they’d agreed to watch her before the question was even off his lips. There was a tick of separation anxiety as he handed Eve over to Phoenix, but as horrible as it sounded, the little girl was your go-to excuse whenever he tried to bring up sex and Jake needed you not to run away from him this time. So he'd let her go despite the slight squeeze to his heart, and waited for you to come home. 

He was sitting by the kitchen table when you entered the house, his elbows resting on his knees and thumbs twiddling as you tossed your purse and keys aside. 

You smiled as you moved to him and bent at the waist until you were eye-to-eye. “Hi,” you breathed right before pressing a kiss to his lips. The first was soft; brief. The second was firmer. You parted your mouth a bit and placed your hand at his neck, letting your fingertips weave into the ends of his hair, and with twitching fingers, Jake resisted the urge to pull you right into his lap. You’d undoubtedly feel the hardness beginning to strain against the zipper of his jeans and he didn’t need you getting spooked. 

When you separated and straightened, his eyes followed your walk around the kitchen island for the fridge. A twinge of guilt caused his throat to tighten. He hadn't felt wrong in admiring the curves of your body and the way your hips swayed with your stride since he realized he was in love with you so long ago, thinking you didn’t feel the same. But that guilt was rearing its ugly head, sneaking its way into his system and starting to take over. That was why he knew he couldn’t let go of the distance you were creating, not without understanding your reasoning. 

“Is Eve asleep?” you asked.

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers overlapping the spot yours had been only moments before. “She’s, um…she’s with the guys.”

You looked at him, your head tilted, and shut the door. The lack of light from the fridge darkened your face, and Jake just hoped your attitude wasn’t about to match when he answered your obvious next question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he stood and cleared his throat, “they’re going to watch her for the night.”

“Jake, she—”

“She’ll be fine,” he quickly interjected. “I gave them everything she needs and she’ll be back first thing in the morning.”

Huffing, you shook your head. “Jake, I love them, I do, but they don’t know how to deal with a baby.”

“There’s three of them, Honey. They can handle it," he said. "You know I wouldn't have let her go if I didn't trust them."

You were still shaking your head. A subtle groan left your lips and you rubbed the pads of your fingers across your brow. He didn’t like seeing you bothered, but he did anticipate it. Letting his friends watch his baby girl was like letting them borrow one of his vital organs for the night and he knew you felt the same.

“We need to talk, Honey,” he said softly. You didn’t look at him with a question in your eyes. Neither did your face shift in any manner. Somehow, he realized, you already knew. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Your gaze shied away from his. “Nothing,” you muttered.

“No.” He rounded the island, guiding your body to face his and weaving his fingers with yours. “Please look at me.” And only when you did, did he continue. “It’s not nothing. Whatever it is, we can work through it. We can, alright? Nothing changed.”

Brows pinching in confusion, you replied, “That’s not true. I had a baby. I don’t look the same—”

“You’re fucking perfect. I don’t care about—”

“That’s not all of it.” As your lips thinned, your eyelids pinched. As if you’d been afraid of expelling that knowledge. As if you expected judgment in return. 

“Then what?”

Your mouth opened; closed. You tried to look away again, but Jake’s fingers lightly gripping your chin didn’t allow it. 

“C’mon, Honey,” he whispered. Pleaded.

Your teeth trapped the edge of your bottom lip, nibbling, and with his thumb, Jake carefully tugged it free. You released a long sigh, but he knew you couldn’t ignore the honesty he was pouring into his stare. Despite your success as of late, you struggled to deny him as much as he did you; a habit long ago built along with your friendship. 

The hesitancy on your face betrayed the sudden rush of your confession. “I haven’t had sex since you, Jake. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I can’t be any good at it, and I don’t want to be compared to anyone else you’ve been with since I left, so—”

“I haven’t been with anyone,” he stopped you. He was proud of himself for not choking at your words, but the need to soothe what worried you overpowered everything else. 

Your jaw briefly slackened. “W-What?”

His fingers squeezed yours. “You can’t seriously think—" he paused at the aggressive bite you gave to your lip again, at the wet sheen forming over your eyes. “Honey, there’s no way.”

It crossed his mind, but not for the reasons it might cross the mind of any other man. He never saw a woman when his friends would drag him to the bar that he found could compare to what he’d lost. He couldn’t imagine touching another knowing they wouldn’t feel quite right, or kissing another knowing they wouldn’t taste like you, or bringing another into his bed knowing that you once laid there. You had occupied that spot with more than just your body. Your presence stubbornly remained on the right side of his mattress, long after any physical traces of you dissipated. The space, like everything else, belonged to you. His touches and kisses and body—yours, only—and the sole reason the far possibility of someone else entered his brain was that he figured the day would come when he would have no choice but to move on. But he didn’t want to, and then, he didn’t have to. 

“How is that possible, Jake?” A tear trickled down your cheek that he wiped away. “You could have anyone.”

“Not the one I wanted.” 

“You didn’t know I was coming back,” you argued before placing your free hand over the center of your chest. “I didn’t know I was coming back.”

Jake swallowed the shout clawing at his throat, the one that demanded to silence the lunacy, the one that accompanied the words ‘there’s no way in hell that fucking someone else would have made me forget you,’ but he could picture your wince in response; the way that spewing that truth would only serve to embarrass you, if you even believed him at all in your state of mind. 

He settled on “That doesn’t matter, Honey. I wasn’t getting over you.” Spoken as gently as the caress of his hand when cupping your cheek. His thumb ran back and forth along your cheekbone before traveling lower, skimming over your lips. “Do you trust me?”

“Yea, but—”

He shook his head. “Yes or no.”

You took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling with the swell and collapse of your chest. “Yes,” you said, your tone firm; sure. 

Little spirals of warmth bloomed from the center of Jake’s body. “Do you want me or do you want more time?”

“I want you, Jake, I’m just,” you swallowed, “I’m nervous.”

“I’m nervous, too.”

“Why?”

Jake reached up and brushed your hair back. He kissed the tip of your nose. “Because there’s a significant chance that if I’m inside you,” he muttered in the minimal space between you, “I’m going to come in about three seconds.”

He smiled at your unrestrained laugh; at how some of the nerves instantly shed from your body like an old husk, leaving you fresh and glowing, brightness radiating from your very core. That’s my girl, he thought. Right there. 

“Honey, we can do this.” His whisper caressed your face and he wondered if it added to the pinkish hue budding under your cheeks. “We can, if you want to.”

It was an obvious war in your mind, but he’d accept whatever you decided. Knowing he hadn’t done anything to make you not want him or that your previous desire hadn’t faded made his own concerns wither away. He’d wait. However long you needed, he’d give you. Above everything, he wanted you comfortable with him. He wanted you feeling safe and confident in the bed you shared. 

But then you nodded. 

“Yea?”

“Yes, Jake.”

He didn’t wait. With a giggle from your throat, Jake took your hand and led you along, up the stairs and through your bedroom door. He twisted and enveloped you in his arms, his hands fisting the fabric of your t-shirt as his face snuggled into your neck. He licked and sucked and nipped; happily drowning in your taste and smell and that wonderful heat of your skin from your racing pulse. 

For the first time in ages, he heard your sweet moan. And it was a damn drug. It was the gust of air that fed the ember inside him, turning it into a familiar flame that only burned for you. That sound was exactly as he remembered. It was exactly what he’d been craving. It was the sound he’d cruelly dreamt of for months and woken up hard to, unable to find release in the way he most wanted. Hearing it now made that hardness painful; achy within the confines of his pants. He was so desperate and so needy but so very willing to be a weak man for the woman he loved, because fuck, did he love you. And you were finally accepting him instead of pushing him away. 

His hands and lips trailed up to your face, palms holding your cheeks again, lips pressing to yours and encouraging them to part so his tongue could slip inside. You blindly stripped one another of your clothes, jerking and tugging at garments without a care for how intact they remained, only allowing space between your bodies to yank shirts over heads and discard them on the floor before resealing your mouths. 

He cupped your breasts, fingers kneading, stroking over the hardened peaks before moving to grip your waist. Thumbs idly ran over some of the newly formed ripples in your skin. He couldn’t help how much he wanted to explore the new mapping of your stomach, but when he did eventually trace a knuckle along one of the pregnancy-induced lines, you squeaked into his kiss and backed out of his reach. 

He watched you with caution, remaining silent to give you a chance to ease the panic in your system, to let you come back to yourself and remember where you were. In his bedroom—your bedroom—with him. Not judged, but safe and loved. Loved so much it was a vice grip around his heart. He considered telling you again as he had every day since you came back, but he wanted you to realize for yourself that you had nothing to fear with him, nothing to be embarrassed about. He didn’t care about stretch marks. He wished he could’ve been there when they formed. He wished he could’ve seen you swollen with his baby, growing round and healthy to protect the little one inside you. 

Maybe one day he would. 

The unease in your eyes calmed enough that when Jake outstretched his hand, you took it. And then he started to kneel before you, holding your stare as he descended inch by inch until his knees were digging into the carpet. Leaning closer, he let his kisses line the marks, causing your stomach to clench, your breath to hitch, your fingers to weave into his hair.

“You okay, Honey?” he asked, his voice gritty, and you nodded as he carefully guided the thin cotton underwear down your thighs.

The oxygen left, every bit of it fully sucked from his lungs at the sight of you all delicate and pink and glistening. So bare and perfect. He stared for a moment, many moments, hot pants escaping through his lips, then his eyelids fell closed and his forehead rested on your stomach. His grip on your hips tightened as he kept you close. 

There was so much relief in knowing that he was the last man to touch you there. The last to taste you and be inside you. That this, you, all of it, was still his. And he would forever keep it that way if you decided to let him.

“Fuck, Honey,” he muttered. “I missed you so much.”

He scattered more kisses wherever he could, marking you, hoping to brand you, and in no rush to move on from doing so. He completely lost himself, right there on his knees. And he wanted to stay put. As far as he was concerned he was in the perfect spot. Such an easy position in which to worship you.

As his lips went lower, your fingers tangled deeper into his hair, nails scraping over his scalp and shooting sharp tingles down his spine. 

“Jake, I miss—” you began, but the rest of whatever you planned to say slipped away, replaced by a whimper when two of his fingers ran through your slick folds. 

“So beautiful.” He peered up at you. “Honey, can I?”

He could admit it wasn’t an entirely selfless ask. Having his face buried in your pussy was another facet of those dreams that tortured him, but he wanted to kick himself when he saw a harsh gulp constrict your throat. He should’ve given it a half-second of thought, to realize that focusing on you in that way, putting everything into pleasuring only you rather than the shared give and take would feed the vulnerability you weren’t yet ready to tackle. 

“Or, ” he added, raising to full height, “we could just…save that for later?”

“Yes, please.”

A smile took over his face that remained until you smiled back, then he pressed his lips to the back of your hand before capturing your mouth in another kiss. 

“Anything you want,” he promised. 

“I want you.”

“Then you’ll have me.”

He helped you lay back on the bed and with a hand on each of your knees, spread your legs wide enough to accommodate his hips so he could settle above you. Another thing he’d desperately missed—seeing you below him, your bodies intertwined, your limbs wrapped around him to keep him close. He loved having you in any position, but this made him feel like more than a lover; he felt like a protector…your protector. He got to keep you safe as he made you feel good, as you made him feel good. 

Jake shifted his hips back and forth and back and forth, rubbing his cock over your center and coating his sensitive flesh in the wetness gathered there. It felt earth-shatteringly good and he hadn’t even been inside you yet, but so much time had gone by and it was wildly better than his memory, and maybe his little joke about coming too soon was about to be a whole lot more likely. 

His eyelids sealed and he dropped his head against your neck, taking a deep inhale and exhale as he continued to move above you. Breathe, man, he told himself. Just breathe. 

You let out a faint noise, a mix of his favorite moans and whimpers, but something else too, and Jake leaned back to meet your eyes. 

Anxiety. Just a hint, but it was there, swirling in your irises. 

“It’s ok, beautiful,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours; noses nudging. “It’s just you and me, right? We’ve done this before.” He gave you a deep kiss that then moved to your cheek, your jawline, your neck. “Just you and me.”

When you nodded and slipped your arm around his neck, Jake reached between your bodies to grasp himself, pumping once, twice, before lining his length up with your core. 

“Ready, Honey?”

While he wanted your confirmation, he didn’t hate taking the extra moment to ensure he was ready as well; that he could handle it. Just one more second to soak in the surge of everything he was about to feel. Everything he already felt, but increased tenfold. 

“Yes,” you replied. 

Yes. Yes. Yes. An answer he suddenly realized he wasn’t sure he’d receive. But he had. You gave it, and that acceptance was all he needed to start pushing inside you. 

You were warm and tight and velvety, your walls squeezing him and sucking him in further and torturing him so goddamn deliciously. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing his forehead into yours, finding himself on the verge of matching the shivers that overtook your body. 

He didn’t move���couldn’t, honestly. He was terrified to hurt you after a year of you not being stretched like this, so he had to let you adjust. But remaining so still forced him to feel every clench and flutter of your walls around him. 

“Honey, you’re gonna kill me.”

You hummed contently and tightened your arms around his shoulders. “You can move.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. Then he did as you told. 

With a sigh of relief, Jake slowly began to drag out before driving back in, again and again and again at an even pace that brick by brick built the tension spreading throughout his body. He angled his thrusts to hit that spot you liked—the spot he’d never forget—and was rewarded with sweet gasps and mumbled prayers of ‘oh my god’ in his ear. 

“Good?” he asked. 

Lips parted, your head tipped back into the mattress. “S-So good.” 

His hands were all over. Your breasts, your waist, your hips, grabbing handfuls of your ass, moving back up to tangle into your hair as he melded your mouths. They couldn’t decide where they wanted to be, so they chose everywhere.

“You’re so perfect, Honey. So amazing.”

His hips ground against yours in such an excruciatingly lazy manner, all by his choice. He was contributing to his own ache, but he didn’t want it to end. He was positive things would be ok after the night was over. They would go back to the way they once were now that he’d reassured you with his words and touch. This would not be the last time he had you, not by far, and he knew it, but he still couldn’t allow the moment to pass without savoring it to its fullest. He didn't want to let it go quite yet.

You, however, were already on the edge. He could feel you; could tell you were so quickly about to lose it when your nails carved into his back. But he knew you needed a little more, so he dipped his fingers lower and pressed down on your clit. His thumb moved in time with his thrusts, each shove of his hips into yours matching one circular motion around the sensitive bud. 

He continued until you clung to him like he was your lifeline, his name strung out with your cries as you came. 

Jake groaned, holding you as tightly as you did him, biting into your shoulder, just trying to keep it together so he could continue pumping in and out of you to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible. But you made it damn hard. Your pussy was destroying him. Milking him like you wanted him to give you another baby, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to fall apart.

“Jake…” It shuddered off your lips.

“I love you,” he said. “So much. So fucking much.” 

He didn’t expect the same words in return. He just needed you to know, to never forget. Not for a single second did he want you questioning how he felt about you. He wanted you to wake each morning remembering those words, keeping them locked in your mind so you always had immediate access. 

You kissed him then, and the heat of your lips, the raw emotion behind their gentle pressure, sent his brain swirling. You were in no rush, your mouth moving with his as if you had all the time in the world to enjoy one another—which you now did. You had your whole lives. Thank God. 

“You’re everything, Honey," he said after the kiss broke.

When you cupped his cheek, his eyes snapped open. He hadn’t realized they were screwed shut. They met yours. 

You shook your head, a glassiness making the lovely shade of your irises richer. “Jake, you are everything. You."

He cursed under his breath because that was it. Hearing you say that was all it took to turn him into an absolute goner. You swiped away the last morsel of his control, and with his arm clamped to your waist, he spilled inside you. 

His hips stuttered. A growl that only you could cause rumbled from his chest, vibrating in his throat. And then he stilled completely. 

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, panting above you, but he didn’t care, and neither did you seem to. 

When his heartbeat calmed and the hazy, thick thumping in his ears subsided, Jake rolled onto his back, flipping you with him. You sat up on his lap, pulling your hair away from your damp skin to cool yourself off—and while you were a beautiful display, a work of fucking art, Jake wasn’t having it. He wasn’t ready to allow any distance from you. 

“Come back here,” he playfully grumbled, and with a hand on your neck, gently pulled you back down until you were chest to chest. 

He kissed you slowly, sucking lightly on your bottom lip as his other hand traveled the length of your spine, stopping once he reached the swell of your ass. He could feel the curve of your smile against his mouth. 

“Jake,” you mumbled, but he refused to release you from the kiss. That sweet uttering of his name only made him hold you closer, and your giggle at his stubbornness didn’t deter him. 

You tilted your head just out of reach, prompting Jake’s whine as his lips chased after yours.

“Quit it.” He sighed in semi-mock frustration, struggling not to smile when your laugh bounced around the room. “It’s not funny. Let me be all over you.”

“I’m home now, Jake. You can be all over me whenever you want.”

“Great, then keep kissing me.” 

He lifted his chin, but you placed your fingertips atop his mouth before it could meet yours. He resisted the urge to sneak his tongue out to taste your skin.

“I have something I would like to say. And you’re going to listen.”

Always, he would’ve said, but he had a feeling if he dared to part his lips to speak, you’d figure out a less fun way to shut him up. When he made it obvious that he no longer had intentions to interrupt, you removed your hand to softly sweep along his jaw.

Your gaze turned honey-glazed as it roamed the features of his face, taking the time to examine each curve and line. He couldn’t guess if you were staring for seconds, minutes, hours…he didn’t care. He was watching you just as intently. 

“So handsome,” you whispered, clearly more to yourself than for his benefit, but he swelled with pride nonetheless. 

Finally, your eyes locked. You smiled again. “Jake, I missed you, too,” you confessed. “The entire time. From the very second I was gone. I thought about you every single day, and I don’t ever want you to doubt that, ok?” 

You paused for a breath, and Jake tried to take the opportunity to tell you…well, everything. To repeat how much he loved you and missed you, to promise that you were the woman he was determined to be with for the rest of his life, to swear that he would always be there for you and Eve, but you stopped him before he could. 

“Don’t, because whatever you’re going to say will make me cry; I just know it,” you said. “So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to nod and say ‘Honey, I will never doubt that’ and then you can kiss me until we pass out, alright?”

Jake chuckled, but he did as you asked. He nodded, then put his hand at the back of your neck to draw you closer. He brushed his lips across yours in a feathery touch. 

“Honey.” He let his voice deepen and he swore he felt your body shiver in response. “I will never ever doubt that.” You grinned in satisfaction. “And I am definitely going to kiss you until we pass out.”

---

A/N: *turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing*

[isawritesshit]

I ACCIDENTALLY WROTE SOMETHING AND NOW I WANNA CONTINUE IT PLEASE HELP

Okay, so now that I have your attention, remember how I said I was gonna continue my Gojo series over the weekend?

(Btw, if you want, prologue and first chapter are up on that story so you can go read it and then come back to harrass me about not continuing it for forever because I have writer's block)

Well... I may or may not have come up with another Gojo series...

It's kinda an AU of the series I have already started. Basically, our lovely and sexy reader is actually a daughter of the Kamo Clan leader and had been betrothed to Gojo from a young age (yes, this is gonna be one of those arranged marriage things). Reader is basically trained to become the perfect wife for him, essentially mental abuse and being told her whole life that the best way to serve her family was to become an object for him.

So, when Reader goes home with Gojo after their wedding, she expects him to basically be what she was trained for him to be (demanding, a bitch, etc.). However, what Reader doesn't know, is that Gojo has been in love with Reader since he first saw her when they were children, and basically, he teaches the reader to love herself. Plus, there's going to be plot involved.

I'm gonna put what I have for the prologue under the cut. Tell me if y'all wanna see more of this because I low-key just might write it anyways :)

cw: obv themes of force/arranged marriage, hints of mental abuse, mentions of sex, but overall mostly fluffy.

People would say that if there was one thing that Gojo Satoru was not, it would be committed. Not in all ways, however. Satoru was very committed to his sorcery, to the protection of ordinary people and the balance of the their world and the jujutsu one. It was relationships that he struggled with. Yes, he had always had an authority problem, both growing up and even now, so his relationships with jujutsu elders and other clan leaders were never good to begin with, especially when he became a clan leader himself and took up the title as “The World’s Strongest Sorcerer”. However, his friends? Sure he cared deeply for them, but he could never show them that, lest he risk the possibility of them getting hurt for that same reason. Lovers? Absolutely not. They would last a week at best, hence why his friends would say he had commitment issues. 

But not many people knew that Gojo was betrothed to be married, and if there was one thing that he could say that he was committed to, it was that. 

And not just because he knew that the responsibility of upholding the Gojo Clan’s honor and survival was on his shoulders, but also for a reason no one could have predicted. 

The first time Satoru had seen his future bride, they were both young, too young to understand why each of their parents were sitting across from one another, why the most important members of the Kamo clan were staring him down when he was barely five years old. But then his parents asked to see you, and that’s when everything changed. 

You were brought into the room by a caregiver and left in between the two families like you were some kind of meal. A veil-like mask covered the front of your face from the nose down. Your wide eyes looked about. First at your caregiver, who stepped out of the room with a bow, then to your parents, who didn’t even look back at you, then to his parents, and then, finally, to him, the only other child in the room. 

Gojo Satoru didn’t know it at the time, but it was at that moment that he had fallen in love with you. That same day, it was agreed upon that the two of you would wed when he was 25 and shortly after you turned 24. That seemed like such a long time, but… Satoru decided that maybe he would try to get to know you when he saw you next. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Both of your families kept each of you on a tight leash, and neither were inclined to meet with one another just because the Gojo heir wanted to see his bride. They were rival clans after all, with a long history of vendettas and alliances. 

However, just because Satoru saw you once didn’t mean he stopped thinking of you. Even as a pre-teen, he sounded your name in his head, sometimes aloud when he was alone. Kamo (Y/N). It was one of the few things he knew about you, other than what your eyes looked like. He knew that those eyes had likely changed over the years since the first time he saw you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about them. About you. 

There were a few other things Satoru knew about you. You were the only daughter of Arao Kamo, the Kamo Clan head. Not only that, you were the youngest child and had three older brothers, all of whom he had never met before. He would take in what his parents would tell him about you, though it wasn’t much. Only that you had a different cursed technique from the blood manipulation that ran strong in the Kamo line, and that you were naturally beautiful for your age. 

But Satoru wanted to know more. He wanted to know what your interests were and if they were similar to his. He wanted to know more about your cursed technique and what kind of training you had received. He knew that you would receive some kinds of etiquette and liberal arts education, as was normal for daughters of the clans to do, but did you like any of those things? What foods do you like? How have you grown? 

What did the rest of your face look like? That was the question that replayed constantly in his head after Satoru was notified that him and his parents were to meet with you again to make some further updates to the arrangement. Maybe this would be his chance for him to finally speak with you, to get to know you. 

But it was just the same as before, only this time, the both of you were 13. There was no caregiver to bring you in, and no other Kamo representatives other than your mother and father, whom you sat beside. 

Satoru remembered staring at you the whole time, taking you in. His parents didn’t lie. You were beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you, and you also carried yourself maturely for a young girl. Your eyes had changed, of course, more grown but still just as wide and lively as he remembered. Your face was no longer obscured by a mask, and instead, you held a delicate fan that matched the kimono you wore, covering your face as you listened intently while your parents spoke, but never speaking yourself. 

You never once looked in his direction.

The meeting concluded before he knew it had begun. His parents had needed confirmation of your fertility, since they were to be among the first to be notified when you started your cycle. However, in an offer that was a bit unexpected, your father had requested that the marriage date be moved up five years, to which his parents agreed. That part made Satoru ecstatic. Instead of waiting 12 years, he now would only have to wait seven. 

And with that, you bowed and departed behind your parents, swift and silent. Satoru tried not to look like he was running as he tried to catch another glimpse at you when his parents excused him, but when he peered out the nearest window that overlooked the front lawn where you had arrived, you were already gone. 

And so, Satoru would go another seven years. Another seven years of thinking of you, dreaming of you, wondering what you looked like behind your fan and cosmetics. He had hoped to see you enrolled in the same class as him at Jujutsu Tech, though he knew for a fact that you most likely would not be. Your parents, more so your father, he realized, protected and sheltered you more than ever after that second meeting. He had expected you not to show up to that first day of school, but when that first day was over and you actually didn’t, a small part of his heart still sank. 

Satoru did take some females to bed during the next seven years you spent apart, mostly out of curiosity as to what sex felt like, but also by persuasion of his friends. However, his friends would get confused as to why he would never allow those girls to stay the next morning, or why he would insist on wearing a condom even when they gave him permission to finish inside. He would give the excuse (thought it really was the truth) that he actually wasn’t that interested, or that he also wanted to protect against STDs (the latter was a great insult that had women storming out on him, to his relief). In reality, he wanted his first real time, his first enjoyable time, to be with you. Even if he was allowed to take on any amounts of lovers he wanted both in marriage and out of it, he felt guilty knowing that you had to save yourself for him. So, in a way, he was saving himself for you too. 

As the years came closer and closer, he began to think of you more, trying to subtly gather more information on you, to little avail. He knew that this pining and longing could be considered childish, but he didn’t care. Was it wrong to want to come to love, to already be in love, with the person he was to spend the rest of his life and create a family with? Satoru certainly didn’t think so. However, that didn’t mean he was without restraint. After his parents had passed and the mantle of the Gojo Clan leader was given to him, he didn’t try or demand to see you. After all, the two of you could still be considered strangers. Hell that is what you were, he had to remind himself. He figured it would be best to keep you with your family and not disturb your current life, especially since you would be seeing your family less once you came to live with him (but also because he didn’t want you to see him as some obsessed maniac). He decided he would be patient and wait, which would make your first real meeting with him all the more sweeter. 

Those seven years passed by too fast, he realized as he stood in the center of a magnificent shrine in what could have been the most spectacular and slightly uncomfortable outfit he had ever worn. Your family surrounded him on almost all sides as they awaited your arrival at sunset. Your parents and brothers sat off to one side of the room, and he could feel their eyes on him the entire hour that he stood there. After what seemed like an eternity, your headpiece peaked slowly over the hill as you ascended the path to the shrine. He held his breath. 

He noticed your eyes again first. 

They were downcast, melancholy, almost near lifeless. Not the lively pools of color he remembered and saw so often in his dreams. Your blank expression was such a contrast to the splendor of your being. Indeed, he thought that he was being pledged to a goddess, with the way your updone hair and headpiece played in the golden sunlight, the way the whites, golds, and reds of your wedding kimono and wraps made you look like a princess, and the way your face, your whole face, looked like it was extracted from a star. To put simply, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. 

Finally, you found your place beside him, your hands clasped in the folds of your long sleeves. It took you standing this close to realize how much smaller you were than him, though he immediately recognized how your face and demeanor had shaped into womanhood since he last saw you. He would catch glimpses of you when he could throughout the ceremony, taking in more of the newest features that you had laid out for him. His heart was beating rapidly, hoping that you would look back at him at least once. 

But you never did, even when you presented one another with ceremonial wine or when you took his arm to leave the shrine for the reception dinner that was filled to the brim with Kamo Clan members and other officials. As soon as you both entered that reception, your fan was over your face. You didn’t say a word to him the whole time, so he never said anything to you. 

A cold sweat had laid itself over Satoru as you said goodbye to your family members. It wasn’t the type of goodbye that he would expect a family to give to their only daughter. There was no affection, no emotion shown, as if leaving your family was merely another ceremony. And then you turned back to him, eyes still looking down of course, and got into his car without a word. 

Satoru could tell that something was wrong and off about you. Sure, you had carried yourself gracefully throughout the entire evening. Every movement you had made between walking and eating and sitting was done to absolute perfection. Maybe it was those monotone movements that were his first sign. No, it wasn’t that. It had to be your eyes. Why were they always so emotionless? Why did you never look up at him? What had happened to you since the last time he saw you?

At least your fan wasn’t up. That he could be thankful for. Satoru sighed. He couldn’t help but feel like the happiest day of his life, the one where he finally got to be with the girl he had loved for 15 years, was the saddest day of your own. He wanted to ask about it so bad, now that he had you alone, but he didn’t. He would just look at you ever so often as you watched the scenery pass by through the car window. Maybe this was your way of taking everything in, and he didn't want to disrupt that. He trusted that you would talk when you were ready.

He waited for you to say something, but you remained silent as the car stopped and he walked you up the stairs to the front door of his home estate. Your new home. In a perfect world, in what he had imagined previously, you would have been smiling and excited as he picked you up to walk you through the doorway. In that world, you would have hugged and kissed him as he twirled you around and around in your own private celebration. The door closing behind him brought him back to reality. You stood in the center of his grand foyer, taking in dark polished wood and rich splendor of your new dwelling place. The space was only illuminated by shaded lamps and a dim glass chandelier. A new couch, your couch, was against one wall, one of the many of your belongings that had been moved in a week ago. Satoru decided to sit on that couch while you stood in the center of the room, looking down, not moving. 

He couldn’t take this anymore. It was like you treated the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. As if he, your new husband, wasn’t sitting ten feet away from you. He even considered the possibility of you being deaf or mute for a moment. No, he didn’t know what to do, other than speak to you. But what to say? Are you feeling okay? Are you happy? Sad? Were your clothes uncomfortable? How come you didn’t speak or look at him? At anyone? Was it something you were afraid of? Were you afraid of…

That had to be it. 

“Are you afraid of me?”

(please lmk what you guys think)

[scoobydoodean]

Actually I'm about to take this little exchange between Dean and Cas and Sam in the opening of 6.03 seriously, because why not? The conversation in the hotel has been an example used by deancrit casgirls for years to sell a story that Dean is always inconsiderate and demanding things of Cas.

Except Dean hadn't asked Cas for anything in a year as far as we know. He hadn't bothered him once. He hadn't asked him for anything. We know Dean was doing research on how to get Sam out of The Cage over the entire gap year (6.01) but we aren't told that Dean asked Cas to help him. As far as we know, he didn't "bother" Cas—much less demand his aid.

For many, that isn't necessarily the issue though. The issue is the lack of communication in of itself—the lack of "checking in". Setting aside that this isn't Dean's sole responsibility in the friendship and that Cas controls the means of communication between them, when Cas left at the end of 5.22, he spoke as if he was going off on his own solo adventure. Bolstered by a second resurrection, he planned to pursue his faith (and he and Dean clashed briefly over faith). Cas was excited by the idea of becoming "the new sheriff in town" up in heaven, and he didn't give the impression that he planned to maintain a relationship with Dean. He flew off without saying goodbye as if it didn't even occur to him that their connection was important and that parting deserved any sort of recognition, and I think that's how Dean received it—that Cas was at the very least, going away for a while and didn't care to be bothered.

At the same time, Cas didn't give the impression that he thought taking charge in heaven would be difficult. When we next see Cas a year later in 6.03, Cas echoes this sentiment, saying, "I expected more from my brothers". He thought he'd have more help from the other angels in creating (non-apocalyptic-leaning) order. To be honest, I don't think Cas or Dean expected Raphael to be a problem for Cas when they parted ways in 5.22. The Raphael that Dean and Cas had met in 5.03 was tired—barely past neutral in the apocalypse. In fact, Raphael didn't seem to actively take a role in making anything with the apocalypse happen. His only role seemed to be to guard The Prophet Chuck. He seemed like he just wanted to be left alone and outright said he didn't want to be in charge anymore.

"[God] ran off and disappeared. [He] left no instructions and a world to run. [...] We're tired. We just want it to be over. We just want...paradise."

I would guess that Raphael's attitude in 5.03 (and the fact that he never actually came after Cas between 5.03 and 5.22 as he threatened) left both Cas and Dean with the belief that Raphael was weak—beaten down by life, and unlikely to be a problem—that if someone came along and said they wanted the keys, he'd just say, "Whatever" and hand them over and ask to be left alone. Even if he'd fought, Cas hoped to organize the angels on his side first according to his reflection in 6.03, and he believed God would be on his side (even the fear of that possibility was enough to scare Zachariah). God brought Cas back to life twice after he was killed by an archangel—once in 5.01, and again in 5.22. This likely bolstered Cas's confidence as well, made him feel he could gain the favor of devout angels, and made Dean believe Cas would be safe.

What's more, the Cas that Dean is familiar with from season 4 to season 5 isn't shy about asking for help. All Cas did all of season 4 was come to Dean asking or telling or demanding Dean do things for the angels. He was never shy about it. He was nosy and lacked any sense that he might be bothering anybody or even intruding on personal space when he came wanting help with something. He was more likely to show up unannounced and threaten and guilt than he was to think he was being a burden or that he had to handle everything on his own (though he was certainly happy to handle certain things on his own when he thought it would be easiest not to consult with anyone in advance). In 5.03, Cas showed up out of the blue asking Dean to be his meatshield against Raphael. In 5.04, Dean had to explain the concept of sleep when Cas wanted to pick Dean up to help him with a search for The Colt. When Cas needed help, Dean helped—practically and sometimes also emotionally. There were no questions about putting Dean at risk—the mission always came first.

So Dean between 5.22 and 6.03 has no reason to believe Cas would not come to him if he was in need—emotionally or practically. He simply assumes Cas is busy in a healthy way—busy governing with his angel buddies—busy with other relationships and his faith.

When Cas arrives in 6.03, it's because, for the first time in a year, Dean prayed to see if Cas had any ideas on their case. It wasn't a big deal—but seemed like it might be up his alley. It wasn't a demanding request. Hell—maybe Dean sees being on a mission for the first time after a year as a good excuse to get in touch. However, he also finds out just now from Sam that Cas had ghosted Sam when Sam was resurrected and prayed over and over. Over an entire year, Cas never took the time to show. Even if they don't consider each other friends, Dean figures Sam is owed a response at some point over the course of a year after sacrificing his life for everybody.

So when Sam and Cas start squabbling about Cas suddenly appearing (it seems at first) just because Dean prayed instead of Sam, Dean picks Sam's side—and when he says, "When Sam calls, you answer", I don't think he's trying to give orders—I think he's trying to quickly end an unproductive squabble between two more-volatile-than-usual parties who are already prone to butt heads by addressing what he thinks is the root of the issue: Cas simply not grasping the basics of communication and human courtesy.

Dean's had to explain that it isn't okay to fly people places without their permission. He's had to explain that humans need time to eat and sleep and can't assist you at a moments notice at any time day or night. He's had to explain personal space. He's had to explain that watching people sleep is creepy. He's had to explain that showing up in people's rooms or bathrooms out of the blue is startling. This is just one more thing he feels he needs to explain based on his assumptions about Cas ghosting Sam—which are also built upon Cas's own claim—that he ghosted Sam for an entire year simply because he didn't have an answer to his question and for no other reason.

Cas then proceeds to make it clear that he didn't come because Dean called, but because of why Dean called. Cas is interested in the staff of Moses. Cas then proceeds to say "I need your help", and Sam and Dean help him instead of holding a grudge or demanding more explanations. As the case progresses, it becomes more and more clear that Cas isn't going to explain anything and he just keeps darting around and doing things like torturing a kid. So Dean finally demands to know exactly what's going on with Cas. Getting Cas to explain is really difficult—Cas doesn't want to. His responses are short and scattered—he doesn't want to take the time—he's still darting around while he talks.

When they finally get the picture that there's Apocalypse 2.0 brewing, Dean asks outright why Cas didn't ever tell them. The implication here is clear when you realize that up to this point, Dean knows Cas as someone who isn't shy about asking for help when he needs it.

Cas admits,

"I was ashamed. I expected more from my brothers."

He's still using Dean while he talks—literally yanking his wrist over to cut Dean's palm open and use his blood for a spell without asking.

[hisonlyreid-er]

School Girl Crush Pt 3

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| A new BAU member appears and Spencer sees her as a little threat to his status of boy genius. Being unable to get comfortable with each other causes some issues within the team. Will they be able to move past it and work together?

Spencer Reid x FemBau!OC Warnings: a little angst, minor swearing.

Cold stung at my nose, flushing my face red. My coat wasn't providing enough shelter from the chilly environment. The small walk from the SUVs to the hotels reception was freezing. My trainers carried me quickly towards the door in hopes of returning some feeling into my everything. I glanced at my team. Morgan had nothing more than his jacket on and he looked totally fine. Stupid Morgan.

The lobby of the rural hotel was heating me back up, the feeling in my hands finally returning. Leaning against the wall, I watched Rossi and Hotch talk to the receptionist. My to-go bag was sat by my feet, waiting to be directed to a room for the night. It was our first night on this case so the rooms we got now would most likely be 'home' for the next week. It was past 12 so we were all pretty exhausted and it showed. The usual banter was nowhere to be seen as the team stood around, waiting to be assigned a bed. Hotch and Rossi walked back towards us, a strange look on their faces. "We've got some rooms." I waited for the but. "But, there's only 4 so we need to share." Hotch breaking the news erupted a series of groans. Decisions had to be made and they had to be made quick. JJ and Prentiss would clearly pair up. Rossi had a room to himself if he could and considering the number of keys in Hotch's hand, that was possible. My options were slim. I could either share with my boss, with Morgan or with Dr Reid. I needed to decide quickly before it was decided for me. I spoke up.

"Bagsy Morgan." He looked over to me, a little surprised. "Wow. I'm flattered Colesta." I pulled a disgusted face as I looked at him. "Garcia's not going to be a happy lady." Prentiss sounded tired but the humor was evident in her voice. Wanting to lighten the mood, I joked back. "She'll be fine as long as I send her some pictures." I wiggled my eyebrows at her, causing some chuckles from the group. Morgan seemed utterly appalled at my words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water as he looked to Hotch for backup. Even Hotch seemed a little amused. His face didn't show it but you could see it in his eyes. "Agent Colesta, do not take photos of your sleeping colleagues." It seemed like such a stupid thing for my serious boss to say but it brought a happier mood. "Fine." I gave in, rolling my eyes but the smile stayed on my face. Dr Reid ended up sharing with Hotch. All of us headed towards our rooms. Morgan hadn't started walking yet. When the girls and I passed by, I whispered to him quietly. "I'll just take a video." Before he could respond I followed after JJ and Prentiss.

"I'm surprised you chose to share with Morgan. I would've thought you'd share with Spence." I looked over to JJ as she spoke. I could kind of understand where she was coming from, Dr Reid and I were close in age, shared some interests. Shaking my head, I sighed, preparing to confide in my colleagues. "I don't think he likes me very much. Any time I talk to him, he brushes me off." My shoulders slumped in defeat as I finally admitted to what had been bothering me for the past 4 months. "Reid is just weird with new people. He'll warm up to you eventually." Prentiss patted me on the shoulder as we came to a stop outside our rooms. I had heard that same thing so many times from Garcia but it was too late to argue, so I just nodded and smiled politely. The two of them bid me goodnight and entered their own room, laughing with one another. All I could do was hope that in time, I'd be as close with the team. The key turned easily as the door to the room opened. Just before I walked inside, I just so happened to glance down the corridor. Dr Reid came around the corner, head down staring at the floor. His hair was a bit of a mess and cardigan disheveled. I just wanted to be friends with him. Was that too much to ask?

After I shut the door, my first, very grown up action was to launch myself face down on the bed. Very mature of me. My limbs were spread out over the duvet as I shoved my face into the pillow. God, it was like being 15 all over again. I didn't move when I hear the door open and heavy footsteps enter. It was obviously Morgan based on the fact they had a key and had the same weighty gate as the door kicking FBI agent. "What's up with you, mate?" He was so annoying sometimes. I didn't bother lifting my head from the pillow before speaking. "Why does Dr Reid hate me?" A loud laugh made me shoot up and glare at him. Such an arsehole. "Do not laugh at me Derek Morgan." He held his hands up in faux surrender. "Boy genius doesn't hate you." Rolling my eyes wasn't enough to prove my point. It was so obvious that he hated me, anytime I tried to talk to him I was met with one word answers and annoyed tones. "Feels like it." I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling with self-pity. Morgan drops down onto the bed next to me, dipping the mattress by quite a bit. "Give it time." I couldn't take this anymore. Pushing myself to my feet, I grabbed my to-go bag while making a beeline to the bathroom. "If one more person tells me that I'm going to lose my rag." That man laughed at me, again. The mocking I was sure to get later didn't matter. This was so stupid. I don't know why I cared about what Dr Reid thought. I didn't need his approval.

Luckily, our case was over within a week. I got along great with Morgan but I couldn't survive one more night sharing a bed with his snoring. God, the man sounded like a tractor. It wasn't ideal to be packing away at 10pm but we all just wanted to go home to our own beds. I stood in the reception area at the hotel, patiently waiting for the rest of the team to hurry their butts up. My fingers intertwined as I rocked back and forth on my feet. Footsteps sounded behind me, they were light and uneven. Dr Reid appeared in my peripheral as I stared at the doors to the hotel. No words were exchanged for a moment. It was the closest I had ever been to him. A slight scent of coffee reached my nose. Weird, there was also the smell of old books and leather, probably from his satchel. "I don't hate you." The sound of voice made me jump in surprise. Then the words processed. I looked over at him, my mouth slightly agape in shock. He didn't hate me? "What..How did you..?" The sentences weren't forming properly so I just spat out a jumble of mismatched syllables. "Hotch and I were in the room next to yours and the walls are pretty thin." My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. God, he must think I'm so pathetic. Good job Lyn. "You never want to talk to me. I've been here 4 months and this is probably the longest you've tolerated me." I let out a bittersweet laugh as I spoke. Now it was his turn to look shocked. The receptionist must think we're insane. How long does it take the team to grab their bags? "I'm sorry." He sounded so genuine, it caught me off guard.

We didn't talk after that. The rest of the team joined us and it was as if nothing happened. On the flight back, I run over the interaction again and again. Maybe things would be different from now on.

It was around 1 by the time we could leave the office. My brain was lagging behind as I trudged towards my car. "Bye Colesta." Prentiss went her own way, as I dug around my bag for my keys. They were in here, I knew they were. I was always checking on my keys, too paranoid to risk it. My fingertips brushed the cold metal of my house keys. Relief. For some unknown reason, I glance over my shoulder. Dr Reid was there, clearly on his way home. Our eyes locked and he raised a hand to wave at me. I didn't even think about it as I waved back, smiling at my coworker.

It was only when I was halfway home that it clicked. He waved at me. That was a friendly interaction. This might actually be the start of a change. It made me feel giddy. That was weird. Why did I care? I went to a British all girls school, I was use to people disliking me. But the idea of him not liking me made my chest hurt. Strange. I just wanted to get on well with my coworkers. That was it. It had to be. I was still thinking about it when I entered my dark apartment. It was still on my mind as I lay in my own bed for the first time in a week. I was tired, I should have fallen asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. But the thoughts kept me awake. Oh god. My heart dropped as I realised. I had a crush on him. Every time I thought I felt uncomfortable around him or nervous when we spoke, was me getting butterflies. How could I let this happen? I was beginning the career I had always dreamed of and now I was acting like a giddy school girl around the coworker I thought hated me until about 3 hours ago. Lyn Colesta, the stupidest woman in the world. I pressed my face into the pillow and yelled while thrashing my arms and legs. It was like being in high school all over again and I had a stupid school girl crush. Going to work was going to be fun. I was just settling into my role in the team and now I was going to ruin it by having a silly little crush on the resident genius.

Goddamn Spencer Reid.

[bobbimorses]

Real reasson about Clint and Bobbi's divorce? I tough because Bobbi cheated on him, but not sure

absolutely not! i think that misunderstanding is likely from the end of the mockingbird solo in 2016, which decided to go ahead and try to retcon a very key event. let's get into it...

in west coast avengers, the whole team time travels to the old west. their time machine is broken and can only travel backwards. while trying to time travel back further, the phantom rider punches bobbi and takes her off the machine, separating her from the team (in space and time)

phantom rider takes bobbi to his cave and concocts a drug to convince her she's his wife

eventually, the two-gun kid (cowboy friend of hawkeye) tracks them down and is able to snap bobbi out of her drugged stupor. she realizes the extent of coercion that's occurred. clint is trapped in ancient egypt (and also dying), so he's not around for what comes next; during a showdown with bobbi, phantom rider falls off a ledge.

because fuck this guy, bobbi makes her choice: that is, choose to do nothing.

phantom rider's spirit actually just gets reincarnated when he dies, which bobbi admittedly didn't know about at the time, but fuck that guy.

when clint and bobbi are finally reunited, she doesn't divulge the sexual assault that occurred. several issues later, phantom rider's spirit in the present tells clint bobbi killed him and doesn't say why (bc fuck that guy). in what is notoriously the most dickish response (and writing) possible, clint goes "that's not what he said!!!!!!!" when bobbi tries to tell clint why she let phantom rider drop (bc, again, fuck that guy). and so, a rift is born.

clint's whole motto is "avengers don't kill," so his contentions are: you killed someone, you lied by omission, you betrayed my trust by not telling me. bobbi's are: that doesn't count as killing, that guy was a rapist, you are being a shitty husband. also fuck that guy.

the ensuing issues are a bunch of "pick a side" bullshit with the team and squabbling. which was ridiculous. clint's stance was so ridiculous that while all their acid and strife in west coast avengers continued, clint and bobbi would constantly be trying to reconcile and acting tenderly toward each other in concurrent issues of solo avengers. bc other writers thought "yeah fuck that guy."

so that's why they broke up. but also they didn't bc they got back together? but also they didn't get back together bc that was a skrull. but that wasn't supposed to be a skrull at the time and was only one retroactively. but then they got back together anyway. i digress.

ANYWAYS this brings us to mockingbird #8 (2016), which attempts to retcon all that in a way i can only describe as insulting. first of all, phantom rider's described as an ex of bobbi's, which is a terrible start.

then this happens:

yeah. whether the writer was trying to retcon the reasoning behind the divorce, bobbi having been sexually assaulted, or whatever aspect of the entire storyline, what instead comes across is that the writer decided "woman who survived sexual assault and asserted her agency in letting perpetrator die" should be "so like, bobbi cheated on clint, bc she makes her own decisions!" while we have panels of a man drugging her. ???? the only way you could potentially reconcile this is bobbi is lying to phantom rider to get him to fuck off (bc fuck that guy), but as i mentioned, she also calls him her "ex" in her internal monologue earlier in this very same issue, so that definitely didn't seem to be the writer's intention. sooo. we should all collectively ignore this retcon attempt.

there's also the added complication of whether their divorce was finalized during west coast avengers what with bobbi being presumed dead but then not dead, and then clint actually dying and then undying and then dying and then undying again, bobbi confirming they were divorced in new avengers reunion, but then hawkeye v4 later having clint sign divorce papers...but that's not the crux of the issue at hand. leave that for a wills and trusts probate hypo.

SO in summary: not really. if you found this obnoxiously long, enjoy this even longer text post i once made summarizing their relationship, kind of!

[asterekmess]

Hi

I don't like Jackson Whittemore but I know you do so i just wondering what about him you like

Hmm, that's a hard question to answer, I think.

See, first thing to know is that I don't like Jackson as in I agree with his behavior or see him as the victim/the one in the right, etc. I like Jackson as in I like the potential he had, and the possible layers that could be applied to him, whether the writers intended it or not.

Jackson is indubitably an asshole. Straight up. He's the stereotypical jock bully. The equivalent of a quarterback, dating the queen bee in school, stepping on everyone around him to get what he wants.

But he isn't just an asshole.

There's more to what he does and how he behaves, be they reasons for that behavior, or things that change the perspective on what exactly is happening. I'mma pop in a read more to save people's eyes.

God forbid I manage to make a post that doesn't need an anti-scott tag, so we'll start with the way Jackson's behavior is framed and perceived. I personally ascribe to the implication given at the end of the show that everything we see is part of a story that Scott is explaining to a new Beta that he's trying to recruit into working for him/helping him. This means that everything we see is at least a little tainted by Scott's perspective. His biases, his preferences, and what he finds important.

This is important because of the purpose behind Jackson's character. He is written to be Scott's goal. Not his hero or his foil even. But his goal. Jackson is what Scott wants to be. He has what Scott wants. Every frame of Jackson's introduction is made to show this off. The girl (Scott falls for the new girl but can't bring himself to talk to her, while Jackson's in a happy, long-term relationship with the most popular girl in school) The game (Scott can't get on the field because of his health issues, and Jackson's team captain) The car (Scott shows up to school in a bike, and right next to him, Jackson shows up in a Porsche) The clothes (Scott's in hoodies and long-sleeves and t-shirts. He has to have his fucking tux mended the night of the dance. Jackson wears fashion show outfits.)

Key Note: Scott isn't jealous of Jackson. He doesn't want the same things Jackson has. He's envious of him. He wants what Jackson has. He wants to take it away from Jackson, and he doesn't want to share. He's not satisfied when he gets made team captain, because he's co-captain. But he is satisfied when he makes out with Lydia, not because he got a girl, but because he got Jackson's girl. When the show starts, Scott the human wants everything Jackson has, and in order to facilitate that and get the viewer to root for his cause, he views everything Jackson has as undeserved. (Stiles does the same in regards to wanting Lydia) His reasoning is that Jackson's a jerk, so why should he be team captain? Why should he get to date the pretty girl? Why should he get to be popular? He's mean, so he obviously doesn't deserve it.

He's not taking care of what he has, doesn't appreciate it, so he shouldn't get to have it. Scot is clearly in the right for wanting to take it away from him.

Everything we see Jackson do anywhere Scott can see him is pretty much coated in "I'm a dickhead" energy to further exemplify this. Every line is smarmy and self-serving, every action is selfish and has underhanded motives. And it's always to do with Scott for some reason. o.O He only made friends with Allison to get to Scott. He screws up Scott's chances on the field by getting the rest of the team to gang up on him. He screws up the molotov that was supposed to protect Scott. He rats Scott out to hunters. On and on and on.

But when I started watching the show again a while back with my husband, the scenes with Jackson started looking different to me. Knowing the scenes were being skewed and slanted, that the narrator isn't reliable, I tried to peel that filter back from the camera and tried to focus on what happened rather than how it looked.

For example; the scene in the cafeteria where Jackson shows up to his table and kicks another guy out of 'his' spot. The guy complains that Jackson never asks Danny to move, and Jackson looks totally unfeeling as he sits down. He's being a dick, right? Except that Danny responds to the complaint by pointing out that when this other guy sits next to Lydia, he does nothing but stare at her boobs. Yes, jackson's an asshole for kicking someone out of a seat. But I can't say i don't understand why he'd do it, if the guy was ogling Lydia enough for the rest of the table to notice. Jackson is protective of the few people he cares about, i.e Lydia and Danny. Another example I've mentioned on this blog is the bowling alley situation. Allison and Lydia are trying to come up with something to do for a double date, and Lydia brings up bowling. Jackson isn't into it because he apparently prefers to bowl competitively and doesn't think Scott or Allison are going to be good enough to interest him. Scott proceeds to claim he's Awesome at bowling.

Fast forward to the actual bowling, and Scott fucking sucks. Immediately, Jackson starts making fun of him and is a general dickhead. Then, when Scott gets better later on, Jackson becomes even more of a jerk. What a fuckhead, right? Except Jackson's teasing is based on the fact that Scott lied to his fucking face, and he wants people to know Scott is a liar. And when Scott starts getting really good, it's out of nowhere. THere is no Reason for his improvement. Spending half the game biffing every roll and the other half getting nothing but strikes is Not Normal. Jackson is already suspicious of Scott's improvement (i.e. cheating) on the field, so seeing the same shit happen here has to got to be infuriating. Scott can't even help himself from cheating at bowling. Jackson's complaints about Scott are only ever saying Very True things about him.

Right down to how Jackson and Lydia's behavior with one another is lewd and uncomfortable for everyone, until Scott's not looking at them anymore. How Lydia implies that she's constantly putting herself down and being smothered for Jackson's sake, because he wants her to. All pointing to Jackson not Deserving her.

This theme kind of continues through most of Jackson's scenes involving Scott. He's doing something that makes him look like a royal jerk, but then when you kind of pick it apart and focus on What is happening, instead of how it's being framed by the camera, things are a lot different than they first appear. Jackson's constant anger is often Very Reasonable considering the situations he's being put in.

When he's in scenes by himself or in ones that have nothing to do with Scott, he acts totally different. He's soft with Lydia, kind to Allison, he's emotional and a hard worker and he doesn't want to hurt people! But the moment scott gets involved, he snaps back to being a monster.

That isn't to say he's not a dick, or that he responds to his anger well, or that he isn't doing bad things. It's just to say that there's more layers to it than we might initially consider.

Like, look even the scene where Derek shows up at the school and asks Jackson where Scott is. Jackson's a fuckface and assumes Derek is on drugs and is Scott's dealer.

This is because for weeks he's been trying to figure out how Scott is cheating on the field. Sure, part of that is because he wants Scott taken down a few pegs so he can go back to being the best on the team, but there's more to it! Werewolves aren't an accepted or known about thing. Drugs is literally the only way that Scott would be able to get that good at lacrosse that fast. Jackson is team captain. If someone on Jackson's team is doing drugs, he will get in trouble. The whole team will be penalized and tested and scrutinized. He's trying to protect his team and his own reputation. He wants the cheater gone. I can't blame Jackson for being royally pissed by Scott not only doing drugs and endangering their entire season and team, but also having his drug dealer show up at school visibly messed up on something and asking around for him without even trying to hide what was going on. It's just rubbing all of this in Jackson's face.

I think Jackson had so much potential in a lot of ways. He was the ideal Beta for Derek, so much like Erica and Isaac and Boyd that it hurts. If the kanima hadn't messed him up, I really think he would've been a great member of their pack. When he goes to ask for the bite, he asks to be "one of you." Not to be a werewolf, not to be powerful. To be one of you. Part of the group. And despite ratting Scott out to the hunters at the end of season 1, whom literally everyone is fucking terrified of and he genuinely thinks is going to kill him if he refuses, he still makes a goddamn bomb with Stiles and goes with him into the woods to murder the exact werewolf who might've been able to give him the bite he wanted. He had no way of knowing Derek would become the Alpha afterward, and every reason to think that he was giving up any chance at getting the bite for the sake of stopping Peter. He did it anyway.

So, yeah, I have some interest in Jackson, in what he could've been, had the actor not left (i can't even remember if he was the one who left or if he got booted bc they wrote him out). Even the stuff that happens in season 3a, the way that the Alpha twins behave, so much of it implies that Jackson was supposed to be filling that slot that they gave Scott. The twins went after Lydia and Danny, they're perfect examples of what Jackson always wanted to be, and they have the ability to offer him even more power. It makes way more sense to me for them to have been intended to go after Jackson and try to lure him toward the Alphas, than for them to think that getting close to Lydia and Danny was going to matter even a little to Scott. Scott barely knows either of them! He has no reason to care, and it's weird the way the show suddenly makes him obsessed with their safety and friendship. Not to mention the whole Lydia thing of her being upset she always goes for 'bad guys'. Can you imagine the angst potential of Jackson being so easily duped by these cool guys who show up and join his friend group and offer him power and strength and friendship. And then realizing that they've got their claws in the two people he cares about more than anything, and that he doesn't have a choice anymore. They would own him, and he'd do whatever they wanted to keep Lydia and Danny safe. They might've even tried to get him to kill Derek, to steal his Alpha's spark the way they had, hoping that he'd get the full-shift ability along with it and be easier to control than Derek would. Or maybe they were after him because they thought (or knew about some secret way) they could bring the kanima back somehow and use him as their killing machine.

There's just so much that could've been, and so much that was that we couldn't even see. Jackson was a jerk, but he earned everything he had. All the captain spots and team leader positions, he got them because he worked his ass off. We see that in the show. There's a whole scene about it, about how he works too hard, demands too much of himself. Is desperate and scared and trying so hard to be the best because then he'll stop feeling so weak. The things he got handed to him are useless. A fancy car, a cool house and nice clothes. He'll brag about them, but they do nothing for him. Everything that matters, he got for himself through hard work and talent. He even refuses to get the steroids Lydia tries to coerce him into, because he wants to win the game on his own merit. If I were him, I'd hate Scott too, for getting everything handed to him on a lycanthropic platter. Working and working and tearing myself apart to be the best and watching it all go down the drain because someone who never did anything to deserve it got given a gift at random and proceeded to abuse it liberally to get everything he wanted and take it all away from Jackson. Right down to his fucking girlfriend. And the whole time, Scott complains about how much he's suffering and refuses to share the gift with anyone else. Hell, I'd even hate Stiles a bit. I mean, I haven't mentioned him in any of this, but Stiles also goes against Jackson's entire ethics system. Stiles is painfully intelligent with zero effort, and he isn't afraid to hold it over other people's heads. He didn't earn it, he barely studies. But he still gets to be the smartest person in the room. Meanwhile Jackson grabs the wrong chemical and almost gets someone killed. He's got his own kind of intelligence, but it's implied that he's not booksmart, and that must burn for Jackson.

It's probably why Lydia always acts stupid at the beginning. For his sake, because she knows that it hurts him to see other people just get things. Just have them without working for it. It's not about making Jackson look better, it's about not making him feel worse.

According to the show, Jackson's traumatized by his parent's death because he feels like he has no past. He has no identity. So he makes his own, building skills he chooses and getting titles he's earned. And he hates when other people don't have to do that. When they can just go "I was born like this" or "I'm the sheriff's son" and know who they are and how they belong in the world.

There aren't good excuses for why Jackson does the shitty things he does, or says the shitty things he says. But a lot of the time, there are reasons. I don't have to agree with him, but I can at least understand him.

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

X. “discernment”

parts: previous / next

plot: back in your respective hometowns, you navigate a sudden shift in family finances. Bruce Wayne contemplates an identity shift.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, health issues, chemotherapy, debt, substance use

words: 3.1k

a/n: i feel like this chapter is kinda the end of the setup. i’ve had a lot of fun subverting expectations of Batman’s identity usually being kept secret, and seeing how that impacts the story to have it be known so immediately. ahhh i’m very excited to keep writing <3

You did your best to shower as quickly as possible, ransacking your medicine cabinet behind the mirror while the water was heating up. Toothbrush, toothpaste, you had it all back at home, and it went into the trash. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, all did the same after you used up what you could and jumped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a single towel you were fine with leaving behind. As you walked back into the main room, you stopped for a moment. With the sheets off the bed, the kitchen empty, and the rest of the room deserted besides what was left of your luggage, it felt final. Gotham was finally being abandoned and you could go back to the safety of hometown life.

Sweats, tee, sneakers. The plane ride was going to feel massively long with how much anticipation was in your bones thinking about being able to make your mom's appointment. You'd clarified with your dad with a text message and he responded that her treatment was at 3. Even if the plane left by noon, that was 9 to them--you'd be home by 2, could head straight from the airport to her chemo. Luggage zipped, key in hand, you nearly made it out the door before remembering you had edibles sitting in your nightstand. You couldn't technically have it in your apartment, and you definitely couldn't bring it past TSA... you shoved it in your pocket to discard in a public trashcan and made your way to the lobby. You gave the keys and your name to the same young woman, and walked out of the lobby for the final time. Damn. I'm really done here. I'm done with Gotham. I just need to make it on my plane. Then I'm gone.

Bruce was slumped down in his chair trying to avoid passersby. You slipped in beside him and yanked your thick luggage between your legs. He sat up and nodded at you as he buckled, and you did the same. As you reached to click the seatbelt in, the edibles slipped out of your pocket and fell at his feet. Shit. He reached down, read the package, and his brow furrowed. "Marijuana?"

You laughed. Hadn't he ever seen it before? "Yeah uh, I can't take it with me to the airport or leave it here." You shrugged and held your hand out expectantly, but he hesitated. His eyes scanned your face, confused. "You do marijuana?"

Now you were looking at him with confusion. He'd never done it? Drops were hardcore; weed was legal in Gotham, it was legal in most states now. You'd gone to a dispensary just around the corner from your complex to get it, surely he had experience. "Sometimes. Why are you looking at me like that?" A slight defense crept into your tone; people drank alcohol all the time, why was it strange to have edibles? He gave the slightest shake of his head and mumbled. "I just don't see the point."

"I don't get the point of drinking alcohol either, but,"

"I don't drink. I don't do any substances."

You whipped your head toward him. "Like ever?"

"I need to be clear at a moment's notice." He gestured for you to click your seatbelt in, dropped the edibles in your lap, and pushed on the gas. You sat in silence for most of the ride there, and just before he took the exit toward the dropoff lane you held them out to him. "Here. Take them." You paused. "Please."

He shot a glare at you, nearly missing the exit. "Why?"

"You don't have to take them or anything, I just can't have them on me at security." You shrugged and he begrudgingly obliged, tucking them into his pant pocket. He pulled to the right and stopped, unlocking the car. You sat for a moment, staring at all the passengers going in, all the couples embracing each other with heartfelt goodbyes. Your heart throbbed. You wanted that. You wanted to be held, you wanted someone to miss you—someone that didn't have to, like parents. Someone that liked you enough for you, as you were, for no reason other than enjoyment and care. Already in your mid-twenties you were beginning to wonder if that would ever happen for you, and it didn't help to be sitting in a car with the most frustrating, cold man imaginable while looking at so much warmth and love.

He hesitated before asking what had been on his mind since City Hall. “How did you know it was me?”

You hesitated just the same, then shrugged. “I don’t know, i just… knew?” How else could you express just how unique his eyes were? You turned toward him and met his available gaze. His eyes were so distinctive... you couldn't even quite place the color, further puzzling you as to how you had matched him so immediately to the vigilante. Maybe that was the whole thing—his eyes were so unplaceable. Sitting between a gray and blue with no particular lean to one or the other. You hadn't seen anything like it. "Thank you." A smile was easily conjured for him, sympathy and guilt fueling it. "I know I pushed my way into your home. And again, I won't tell anyone. Promise." You cleared your throat and averted your eyes as you popped open the passenger door and grabbed your luggage. He didn't respond until the door was almost shut. "I know. Have a safe flight."

You hid your smile as you shut the door behind you and walked through to the lobby of the airport. You were just in time to get in line for TSA and still make it to your terminal. You shuffled around in your purse to find your ID and pulled up the virtual ticket on your phone. God. You were finally going to be home.

You woke to the pilot over the intercom: "Good afternoon folks, we have arrived in Seattle, Washington. It is now 1:39pm as we pull into the terminal. The weather is a comfortable 73 degrees with partly cloudy skies. Alaska Airlines thanks you."

Waiting for you in the lobby was your mother and father, but your eyes quickly landed on your mother's new wheelchair. She looked frail, with more deep-set wrinkles exaggerated by her new thinness. A lump formed in your throat. He'd said she'd gotten worse. You hoped it wasn't impossibly worse, but soon you would find out more information. You hid your surprise and ran to them with open arms. Your mother started weeping, pointing out how much more grown up you looked. "Your updates on Facebook didn't do you justice," She complimented. Thankfully her voice was unchanged.

Your dad drove you all straight from airport parking to her doctor's office. Chills traveled up your spine remembering the times you'd sobbed alone in your car wondering if the chemo would work, if the medicines that made her vomit and cry in the middle of the night when she thought no one was listening would be worth it. Only to end up back here. But, you reminded yourself, with so much more time than some people got.

Your dad looked tired, so you told him you'd take your mom inside. She was happy to get some time alone with you, chattering on with questions about what exactly Gotham had been like. "I've heard so much about it. Your dad focuses on the bad things now more than I do, he's been worried sick. Especially with all the explosions. Those did worry me I'll admit. But you're back now! We got your room ready, and Walter is so excited to see you! Ever since we made the room up he has been sitting at the foot of your bed." Walter was the family cat your mother got about seven years ago when she was first diagnosed; he was her therapy cat, and he'd taken to everyone in the house. You were excited to see him, you'd missed him tons.

The receptionist smiled when you walked into the clinic, gesturing for you to follow her to a room down the hall. "Mrs. Y/L/N, how are you doing? This room is ready for you." As you wheeled your mom in and sat her next to the IV, you pulled a chair over to sit nearby. You noticed it wasn't already pulled close—did people normally not accompany their relatives, friends, neighbors to their appointments? It saddened you to think about someone having to endure chemotherapy alone. You'd never do that to her.

About halfway through some more casual conversation—the neighbors were doing great, excited to see you, your dad had been working on a back porch for them to spend nights looking at the sunsets together, she'd stocked the fridge with all your favorites, asked about your classes, and gushed to the nurses about how you were now a soon to be college graduate. She also expressed sorrow about having you come back so early and miss graduation, to which you immediately and profusely told her not to worry. You were so glad to be back, and grateful to just do everything you could. You told her how you'd be looking for a job this summer.

A nurse walked in and gently reminded you both about payment. Your mom gestured to her purse sitting at the table opposite her and you went to find her credit card. Long ago your family had abandoned debit, as the mounting costs of having cancer were too much to front all at once. You hurried to the receptionist and stood in line behind a mother and young kid with a bald head. God, kids shouldn't have to go through this. No one should have to. "Miss Y/L/N?"

"Yes, this is for Ellie Y/L/N." You held out your credit card but the receptionist cocked her head at you with a furrowed brow. "Oh hon, your balance is paid."

You stopped. What? "Uh, I'm sorry, I don't think I've paid yet." You stared at her as she clicked a few buttons and focused on her screen. She shook her head. "Nope, but an anonymous benefactor has paid your remaining balance and left a card on file." She smiled over at you. "Must be your lucky day!" She clicked a few things with her mouse and walked over to the printer, handing you an invoice. In bold print next to the mountain of numbers which had previously had a negative in front was a new 0 next to PAID. Concerned, you rushed back to your mother's room. She noted your concern at once. "Y/N, what is it?" She moved toward you enough to get the monitor to start beeping to stay put. You stared down at the paper. "It, it says it's paid. By an anonymous person, I don't, I don't know."

You fell back in your seat as you handed your mom the paper. She pored over it, then shrieked with relief. "Honey, this is a blessing. I can't believe it!" Tears came to her eyes and she looked around. "My phone, I need to tell Thomas,"

"Here, I'll call him." You took out your phone with clammy hands and dialed him. This was... unbelievable. The debt had been well above six figures. Each treatment was a few thousand dollars, with a month-long course going above thirty thousand. Not to mention the massive cost of the at-home medications she had to take multiple times per day that weren't covered by insurance. Your dad shouted with glee, saying he was going to order everyone pizza tonight. "Golly," he sounded on the verge of tears as well. "Looks like luck might be on our side."

As you helped your mom out of the clinic and into the car, your parents embraced each other and danced in place in the parking lot. Your mind was occupied, still in shock. If they had their balance paid, if all the costs coming up were covered, your dad's job at the school would be more than enough to sustain the family. Maybe they could even retire. He'd been saving up his 401k to pay off the balance in one lump sum, though he was only halfway there. It was nice to see them celebrating, but you had a strange feeling in your stomach. Who had it been? Who could have known? Your mother wasn't keeping her diagnosis a secret; many neighbors had been very supportive, and she had many friends who were decently well off that had helped your family when things got rough. But none of them had nearly enough money to do something like that.

As your dad pulled up to Domino's, it hit you like a ton of bricks. It had to be him. There was no other person who could afford it. But how had he known? Did he snoop? Did it even matter?

It had to be Bruce fucking Wayne.

Bruce dragged his pointer finger along the embossed lettering—LEMON LIME THC GUMMY. He was worn out, but could not possibly sleep. The night had been shockingly uneventful with only a few carjackings on his radar. Even the walkie talkie Gordon had lent him from the station was quiet. The night had ended early, yet he still felt tense with untapped energy. Pulling out his phone from his nightstand he Googled marijuana and sleep which elicited clear results: Cannabis may improve sleep quality by helping people fall asleep faster and wake up less often at night. Sigh. He checked the dosage instructions on the back of the tin and pulled off a small piece. Here goes nothing.

Immediately after swallowing he started to feel fearful. What if you had poisoned it? A final blow? Your last revenge? He pictured your eyes meeting his from the passenger side earlier that day. Again, I won't tell anyone. Promise. He thought your eyes were too kind not to mean it, but he still walked up the stairs over to Alfred's room. He was still up reading the paper when he walked in.

"Alfred, I'm gonna be taking some weed tonight." As soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to scream with embarrassment. Here he was, in his late twenties, telling his guardian that he was talking drugs. Non lethal ones at that. Alfred peered up from over his papers with a small bit of surprise. Bruce had never shown interest in drugs before, and it felt a bit awkward, like he was admitting something terrible to a parent. He tried to make his reaction measured and interested. "Oh. Okay! Sounds... good!"

Bruce shifted his weight between feet, wanting to fall through the floor. He was still nervous of how he would react. Would his face melt? Would he have a panic attack, "Yeah. I'll be in my room." Alfred, having known him all his life, easily read between the lines.

"Do you want me to, check on you?" He paused halfway through, not wanting to come across condescending. Bruce seemed anxious. Alfred tried to smile at him. The kid averted his gaze. "I got them from Y/N. They're just for sleep." He turned to leave as Alfred continued. "Okay. Uh, have a good rest."

Bruce mumbled "Thanks." before disappearing back to his room. He laid in waiting facing the ceiling with his arms crossed across his chest, looking small and worried. Why had he trusted you so implicitly? What if your kind words at the airport had been nothing more than a ruse? He needed to be smarter than that. And the crosswalk? How he'd almost hit someone? He couldn't believe it. You clouded his thoughts more than he'd even realized. You weren't stupid and he couldn't ignore the possibility that you knew exactly what you were doing. But what were you doing? You didn't like him. You left Gotham to care for your mother's returned cancer. You were so ready to rid yourself of the city. And he did believe you when you said you wouldn't tell anyone. You puzzled him.

He decided to take a hot shower to try and relieve some extra stress before the weed kicked in. The heat coaxed his muscles to relax, his shoulders to drop, and his eyes to close. He focused on the sounds of the water, the feeling of the soap on his tired, chronically injured body as his hands ran over his bruises. He forgot the time while he was in there, until he started feeling floaty. Blinking to try and shake the sensation, he stepped out of the shower and threw on a pair of sweats. He sat on the edge of his bed and felt its emptiness. His vision was slightly blurred, reminiscent of when he got hit too hard in the head. It wasn't as jarring as he was anticipating, and let himself relax back to his initial position staring up at the ceiling.

His walls were painted black, and that made him a bit nervous. Through his periphery he saw the empty darkness of his room and turned on his bedside lamp. The soft incandescent glow felt warm on his skin and he relaxed into it. Thoughts began creeping up at the edges of his mind. Your eyes gave it away. I don't know, I just knew. Your words fluttered around the room to dizziness. That was possibly the worst answer you could have given, knowing that unless he wanted to reduce visibility while fighting and wear some sort of glasses, he could be recognized any time. In the haze of his high he pictured himself in front of him. Bandaged, bruised, melancholic, isolated. His hair dark and in his eyes. It came to him akin to an epiphany: he needed to make himself more distinguishable from his nightlife. He looked like someone who might be Batman. How instantly you knew him. There had to be someone else like you. You weren't an anomaly, no, you couldn't be.

He got out his journal and started scribbling on the page.

Me now: dark, casual, isolated, angry, unfriendly, critical

Batman: dark, isolated, angry, unfriendly, critical

Too many similarities.

Then he wrote down the opposite: bright, fashionable, connected, easygoing, friendly

As his high peaked he looked out the window at the streets of his city. It hit him like a ton of bricks settling into the pit of his stomach. He needed to become a Wayne—public facing and more inconspicuous, he needed to create distance from the two halves of him. He needed to become so different as to practically gaslight the people of Gotham into discarding their suspicions as madness. He fell back onto the mattress. He couldn't hesitate.

He had to become Bruce fucking Wayne.