#because yeah it saves money so they might as well

[dansemacabredarling]

It is my personal belief that Astarion and Gale would always insist on sharing a room at inns in order to save money and for no reason other than that.

No reason.

Do not worry about it.

[zoppzoop]

GAAHAHHHHH

[nitro502]

Kinda ticks me off that my parents made a big deal about not being able to help me pay for extremely necessary dental work, and then decided to go on a spontaneous trip to Disney World that probably cost them just as much.

[sophiamcdougall]

You're a reasonably informed person on the internet. You've experienced things like no longer being able to get files off an old storage device, media you've downloaded suddenly going poof, sites and forums with troves full of people's thoughts and ideas vanishing forever. You've heard of cybercrime. You've read articles about lost media. You have at least a basic understanding that digital data is vulnerable, is what I'm saying. I'm guessing that you're also aware that history is, you know... important? And that it's an ongoing study, requiring ... data about how people live? And that it's not just about stanning celebrities that happen to be dead? Congratulations, you are significantly better-informed than the British government! So they're currently like "Oh hai can we destroy all these historical documents pls? To save money? Because we'll digitise them first so it's fine! That'll be easy, cheap and reliable -- right? These wills from the 1850s will totally be fine for another 170 years as a PNG or whatever, yeah? We didn't need to do an impact assesment about this because it's clearly win-win! We'd keep the physical wills of Famous People™ though because Famous People™ actually matter, unlike you plebs. We don't think there are any equalities implications about this, either! Also the only examples of Famous People™ we can think of are all white and rich, only one is a woman and she got famous because of the guy she married. Kisses!"

Yes, this is the same Government that's like "Oh no removing a statue of slave trader is erasing history :(" You have, however, until 23 February 2024 to politely inquire of them what the fuck they are smoking. And they will have to publish a summary of the responses they receive. And it will look kind of bad if the feedback is well-argued, informative and overwhelmingly negative and they go ahead and do it anyway. I currently edit documents including responses to consultations like (but significantly less insane) than this one. Responses do actually matter. I would particularly encourage British people/people based in the UK to do this, but as far as I can see it doesn't say you have to be either. If you are, say, a historian or an archivist, or someone who specialises in digital data do say so and draw on your expertise in your answers. This isn't a question of filling out a form. You have to manually compose an email answering the 12 questions in the consultation paper at the link above. I'll put my own answers under the fold. Note -- I never know if I'm being too rude in these sorts of things. You probably shouldn't be ruder than I have been.

Please do not copy and paste any of this: that would defeat the purpose. This isn't a petition, they need to see a range of individual responses. But it may give you a jumping-off point.

Question 1: Should the current law providing for the inspection of wills be preserved?

Yes. Our ability to understand our shared past is a fundamental aspect of our heritage. It is not possible for any authority to know in advance what future insights they are supporting or impeding by their treatment of material evidence. Safeguarding the historical record for future generations should be considered an extremely important duty.

Question 2: Are there any reforms you would suggest to the current law enabling wills to be inspected?

No.

Question 3: Are there any reasons why the High Court should store original paper will documents on a permanent basis, as opposed to just retaining a digitised copy of that material?

Yes. I am amazed that the recent cyber attack on the British Library, which has effectively paralysed it completely, not been sufficient to answer this question for you.  I also refer you to the fate of the Domesday Project. Digital storage is useful and can help more people access information; however, it is also inherently fragile. Malice, accident, or eventual inevitable obsolescence not merely might occur, but absolutely should be expected. It is ludicrously naive and reflects a truly unpardonable ignorance to assume that information preserved only in digital form is somehow inviolable and safe, or that a physical document once digitised, never need be digitised again..At absolute minimum, it should be understood as certain that at least some of any digital-only archive will eventually be permanently lost. It is not remotely implausible that all of it would be. Preserving the physical documents provides a crucial failsafe. It also allows any errors in reproduction -- also inevitable-- to be, eventually, seen and corrected. Note that maintaining, upgrading and replacing digital infrastructure is not free, easy or reliable. Over the long term, risks to the data concerned can only accumulate.

"Unlike the methods for preserving analog documents that have been honed over millennia, there is no deep precedence to look to regarding the management of digital records. As such, the processing, long-term storage, and distribution potential of archival digital data are highly unresolved issues. [..] the more digital data is migrated, translated, and re-compressed into new formats, the more room there is for information to be lost, be it at the microbit-level of preservation. Any failure to contend with the instability of digital storage mediums, hardware obsolescence, and software obsolescence thus meets a terminal end—the definitive loss of information. The common belief that digital data is safe so long as it is backed up according to the 3-2-1 rule (3 copies on 2 different formats with 1 copy saved off site) belies the fact that it is fundamentally unclear how long digital information can or will remain intact. What is certain is that its unique vulnerabilities do become more pertinent with age."  -- James Boyda, On Loss in the 21st Century: Digital Decay and the Archive, Introduction.

Question 4: Do you agree that after a certain time original paper documents (from 1858 onwards) may be destroyed (other than for famous individuals)? Are there any alternatives, involving the public or private sector, you can suggest to their being destroyed?

Absolutely not. And I would have hoped we were past the "great man" theory of history. Firstly, you do not know which figures will still be considered "famous" in the future and which currently obscure individuals may deserve and eventually receive greater attention. I note that of the three figures you mention here as notable enough to have their wills preserved, all are white, the majority are male (the one woman having achieved fame through marriage) and all were wealthy at the time of their death. Any such approach will certainly cull evidence of the lives of women, people of colour and the poor from the historical record, and send a clear message about whose lives you consider worth remembering.

Secondly, the famous and successsful are only a small part of our history. Understanding the realities that shaped our past and continue to mould our present requires evidence of the lives of so-called "ordinary people"!

Did you even speak to any historians before coming up with this idea?

Entrusting the documents to the private sector would be similarly disastrous. What happens when a private company goes bust or decides that preserving this material is no longer profitable? What reasonable person, confronted with our crumbling privatised water infrastructure, would willingly consign any part of our heritage to a similar fate?

Question 5: Do you agree that there is equivalence between paper and digital copies of wills so that the ECA 2000 can be used?

No. And it raises serious questions about the skill and knowledge base within HMCTS and the government that the very basic concepts of data loss and the digital dark age appear to be unknown to you. I also refer you to the Domesday Project.

Question 6: Are there any other matters directly related to the retention of digital or paper wills that are not covered by the proposed exercise of the powers in the ECA 2000 that you consider are necessary?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 7: If the Government pursues preserving permanently only a digital copy of a will document, should it seek to reform the primary legislation by introducing a Bill or do so under the ECA 2000?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 8: If the Government moves to digital only copies of original will documents, what do you think the retention period for the original paper wills should be? Please give reasons and state what you believe the minimum retention period should be and whether you consider the Government’s suggestion of 25 years to be reasonable.

There is no good version of this plan. The physical documents should be preserved.

Question 9: Do you agree with the principle that wills of famous people should be preserved in the original paper form for historic interest?

This question betrays deep ignorance of what "historic interest" actually is. The study of history is not simply glorified celebrity gossip. If anything, the physical wills of currently famous people could be considered more expendable as it is likely that their contents are so widely diffused as to be relatively "safe", whereas the wills of so-called "ordinary people" will, especially in aggregate, provide insights that have not yet been explored.

Question 10: Do you have any initial suggestions on the criteria which should be adopted for identifying famous/historic figures whose original paper will document should be preserved permanently?

Abandon this entire lamentable plan. As previously discussed, you do not and cannot know who will be considered "famous" in the future, and fame is a profoundly flawed criterion of historical significance.

Question 11: Do you agree that the Probate Registries should only permanently retain wills and codicils from the documents submitted in support of a probate application? Please explain, if setting out the case for retention of any other documents.

No, all the documents should be preserved indefinitely.

Question 12: Do you agree that we have correctly identified the range and extent of the equalities impacts under each of these proposals set out in this consultation? Please give reasons and supply evidence of further equalities impacts as appropriate.

No. You appear to have neglected equalities impacts entirely. As discussed, in your drive to prioritise "famous people", your plan will certainly prioritise the white, wealthy and mostly the male, as your "Charles Dickens, Charles Darwin and Princess Diana" examples amply indicate. This plan will create a two-tier system where evidence of the lives of the privileged is carefully preserved while information regarding people of colour, women, the working class and other disadvantaged groups is disproportionately abandoned to digital decay and eventual loss. Current and future historians from, or specialising in the history of minority groups will be especially impoverished by this.  

[arolesbianism]

How do ppl give actual relationship advice I can only muster up idk bro communicate before I just pull out the idk bro kill them

[claw-deen]

with a black cat variant s/o (genderneutral!reader):

miles would be like “no! stealing is wrong! 😤 but they look so cool while doing it tho 😩” his mind would be so confused, because yeah you're stealing, but only from rich people and he heard rumors about black cat helping people on the streets. one day he used his invisibility power to spy on you during one of your heist, he could have stopped you a hundred times that day, but he didn't. he might have developed the tiniest crush on you.

gwen thinks that you're the coolest person alive. yeah stealing is wrong, but she honestly doesn't care at all lol. as long as you're not hurting anyone you can rob as many rich people as you want she won't stop you. sometimes you meet on rooftops at night and often end up teaming up with her to defeat some bad guys, then you watch the sunrise together while chatting about your lives.

pavitr is suspicious of you at first, he understands that you're not a threat to the people he protects but he doesn't treat you like an ally either. he kept his distance from you until the day you saved his life; now he trusts you entirely and he likes to do his night shifts in your company. he knows you won't like it but he's very worried about you and your illegal activity, he'd rather have you doing vigilante work with him.

hobie is a big fan. he heard about you as someone who stole the rich to give to the poor and he was like “slay.” he's the one who came to you during one of your heists and asked you to team up with him. now you, pavitr and hobie want to rob museums to return all the stolen objects to their people. hobie admires you a lot, like gwen, he thinks you're the coolest person he ever met and coming from him, that means a lot.

GUYS I CAN ALREADY SEE THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS FICS COMING IN miguel wants to see you as nothing more than another enemy, he really wants to, but it's such a difficult task when you're helping people with the money of your robberies and you're looking so good while doing it too. he tried to stop you on multiple occasions, but every time he was about to put an end to your crimes something in his mind made him fail. for now you two will keep playing that cat and mouse game, well, cat and spider game, but one day you'll have to kiss him on the mouth, that'll calm him down.

[razzle-zazzle]

I really like how you stick to Dion's character and when you expand on it then it seems like something he would do. In your Psynautica Au Dion leaves to support his family. Yes he leaves but it's FOR them. So my question is this, do you think in an all cannon he would have been the one to run away to camp instead of Raz (if Dion was psychic) in order to become a Psychonaut so that he could make money for his family that way?

Or do you think he just does side jobs in the nearest town the circus is in and supports his family that way?

There's actually a few major differences between Psynautica and Canon Dion! Because as I said, I don't think canon Dion could run away without drastically changing the circumstances and his motivations—and though the Psynautica Aquatos are still performers, there's a lot that's different: Augustus and Lucrecia's memories were never manipulated, for one, and there is no water curse. Just Augustus not wanting to see anymore of his family lost to space travel.

Additionally, in Psynautica, Raz already ran off to go see his heroes, giving Dion the idea. I've changed it so that Raz didn't run away with the intention of getting a job, the receptionist just mistook him for an intern and Raz got pulled into hijinks—but the basic takeaway is that Raz reached out, made connections, and ultimately helped the family.

So Naut Dion decides that if Raz can pull something like that off, then he can too. And this Dion, while still fundamentally Dion, has just enough teenage rebellion in him to tango with space travel, to look beyond the skies. Because while canon Dion has plenty of evidence of the curse, naut Dion doesn't. All naut Dion has is Augustus' and Lucrecia's stories about the Valermo Incident—he doesn't have a watery hand dragging his siblings down. So it's easier for him to disregard his father's warnings than it is for his canon counterpart, though he certainly has plenty of fear in the back of his mind when he gets his first posting!

He's still Dion, of course. He still does it to serve the family's interests just as much as he's serving his own, still worries if he made the right decision and deals with homesickness constantly. He's still an idiot with too much to prove—he's just gone and jumped straight into the deep end himself, rather than having his little brother spur on events to turn his whole world upside down.

As for the second part of your question, no. If canon Dion were psychic, he would simply ignore that part about himself. Repress it so hard he doesn't even realize it's there. And canon Dion definitely puts a lot more focus into performing, so I don't think he would really pursue a job outside of that.

[martian-astro]

D9/ Navamsa chart observations - Part 5

Moon in 1st house gives a spouse who is emotionally expressive, they can also be very moody. If you're attracted to men, then this can also mean that your husband might be a huge mama's boy, so marry someone whose mom likes you. With this placement, if you manage to maintain a good bond with your MIL then you'll have almost no problems in your married life. Your spouse can be prone to jealousy as well.

Sun in the 5th house gives you an extroverted spouse, I feel like this works the best when the person who has it, has a really high self esteem, because if not, you can be jealous of the attention that your spouse gets. You can also feel as if you're not good enough for them.

Mercury in the 4th House can mean that your spouse will be working as an advisor. They may also come from a family where education is given a lot of importance (I know a few people with this placement and their spouse's family was super adamant about them completing their master's before marriage, this is true for both men and women). If you're an academically intelligent person then your in-laws would be more than happy to help you establish your own business, I have noticed this to be true in a lot of cases.

Venus in the 5th house.....can give you a spouse who may be a little too obsessed with themselves. I used to think this was a good placement but then I met a lot of people who have this and their spouses always downplay their achievements and play the victim in social situations. I know a couple where both of them have this and they constantly talk about things that the other has done wrong and it's like a competition of who is sadder, it makes me soooo uncomfortable. One good thing is that, your children are gonna be SUPER creative.

Mars in the 11th House is great in regards to finances, your spouse knows how to earn AND save money, and even though they may like to live a luxurious life, they're well aware of the limitations. They may also have friends in high places and be good at climbing the social ladder. One negative of this is, that they can be TOO focused on earning money, but if Jupiter and Venus are well placed then you have nothing to worry about.

Jupiter in the 3rd house can give you a jolly spouse, they can also be the youngest in their family. They may be really close to their family and after marriage, they would like to live close to them. Your family will treat your spouse as their own child. You know those couples where a person's family ends up becoming closer to their spouse than them, yeah, this is what happens when you have Jupiter in 3rd. You guys may also travel a lot together. I think this placement is really cute.

Saturn in the 2nd house gives you an ambitious spouse, very hard working and tough love type person. They may earn a lot of money but refuse to spend it, OR they refuse to spend money on themselves but have no problem spending it on you. It depends on other factors. ( I know a woman with this, and her husband is so fucking rich but doesn't get new clothes for her, and doesn't buy anything for her, I feel so bad ��, Its giving "ballerina farm") BUT you can also get a spouse who is like "here's my credit card, buy whatever you want"

Rahu in 4th is a strong indicator of moving abroad after marriage, I know people who were unable to get a student visa, work visa and then they got married and were able to settle abroad. This also shows that your MIL may be very involved in your married life, whether for good or bad depends on several other factors.

Ketu in the 5th house gives a spouse who won't be that interested in raising kids. They may also be a little emotionally detached, and can believe in traditional gender roles.

I was thinking of not putting this observation, but then.... precaution is better than cure, so...90% of the female celebrities who have been cheated on by their husbands have Jupiter in Gemini/ Aquarius in d9. So if you have this, be very very picky about who you marry, this is for everyone, but especially for those who have this.

© martian-astro All rights reserved, 2024

[zer0wzs]

"𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙤"

[ gn!reader ] jason todd does not know how greatly positive the impact of owning a dog is wc: 1232

AN: i whipped this up just randomly my apologies if its kinda just . eh??? i still like it to some extent and oh!! this is my first jason pov fic

“That’s Milo, I’m guessing?” Jason mused.

“Yeah! Isn’t he the cutest?” You grin, pointing at the four-month-old beagle. It’s Jason’s first time meeting the dog. He’s only known him through pictures so far, but you’ve only had him for a few days anyway. “Gosh, he’s the absolute cutest.”

Like a slightly dismissive father, Jason wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting a pet. Rent is high enough as it is, even in terms of Gotham’s cost of living, and as wonderful as the idea is, it would only dent his schedule.

You, however, go against his views (Not that he ever forced it on you) and adopt a rescue puppy from a nearby shelter.

“I don’t know. You might like the dog more than me.” He joked.

He’s still on the fence about this. Though you live on the more well-off side of the city, the neighborhoods here still aren’t the safest place to walk dogs. He’d hate to see you devastated if the dog got hurt.

“Aww,” you pout, giggling as you walk up to him and pinch his cheek—Milo cuddled in one arm. He’s perplexed, for sure, but he doesn’t reject this affection at all. Hell, he likes it for sure. “My pretty Jay is jealous.”

He scoffs, not knowing how to reply. His snarkiness is wiped. How embarrassing. He felt his cheeks flushing and eyebrows cinching. God, this was embarrassing. You’re kind of embarrassing. He wants it no other way, though. “No, I’m not? I did not say anything like—”

“It’s okaaaay,” you hum, swaying on your feet as you put Milo back on the floor. You pull his cheeks and sway each other back and forth. “You’ll always be my number one.”

He feels a kiss on his cheek, and his body pulls him back to look at it. It has its own mind that is disposed of you at this point.

The faint smell of your citrus shampoo is less notable. It’s been slowly replaced by the eternal fuzzy dog smell Milo, like any other dog, holds. He doesn’t hate it. Although he loves your usual scent, this is nice too. 

“What do you think?” You ask, breaking the silence one more. He sees the way your shoulders freeze a little and the way your eyebrows worriedly pull up. “Do you think he’s cute, or—”

“I think Milo is very lively. Very energetic. I like him.” Jason assures you with a hand holding your face, thumb caressing the cheek. “I’m just worried that it would take a toll on—”

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “I got this, though! You know how long I’ve been preparing for this.”

And he does. He’s seen you do the research. He’s seen you visit the shelter multiple times. He’s seen you saving up the money for the puppy—including food, vaccines, medicine, toys, and whatever things you fear the dog may need. He’s seen it all, and he questions why he’s even doubting you.

You’re smart. You’re strong. He comes to the conclusion, though, that he still holds the position to worry. He believes in it. At the end of the day, your safety and comfort is his responsibility.

You two are walking Milo—or, rather, you are; Jason’s just more than happy to accompany you.

He declines your many offers to hold his leash. He fears losing something that means so much to you or hurting him with a simple tug because of his sheer strength. He’s calculated, sure, but he’s not cut for this simple life. He knows roughly how much it would take him to bring down a squad of armed men, but he does not know when a batter is over or undermixed.

You don’t know that, though. It’ll stay that way, he thinks.

“I think this is it.” Your voice snaps Jason out of his thoughts. He looks at you and sees that you’re radiating, no, buzzing in excitement when you spot the sign that says, ‘dog park. “Here, Milo!”

You step inside the fenced area, and the puppy is more than eager to explore the new territory. Unclasping the leash from his collar, you give him a kiss on his snout before he runs to the pack of dogs—some big, some small.

He sees your caution that borders on uneasiness, watching if the dogs are friendly to him or not. 

“He’s adorable,” he says to break the tension, watching him play with his friends.

The worry on your face is lessened as you look at him. “Well, they do say that pets look like their owners.”

“Mmm, I see it,” he hums, pulling you closer by the chin and giving you a peck on the lips.

 “You really think so?” You bury yourself to his side. Your skin is an awful lot colder than his. He supposes, though, that it's just his body. That it simply overheats.

“Mhm.” He nods, pulling you impossibly closer to him with your head tucked right under his chin.

“Aw, thank you.”  The two of you stand like that for a few minutes.

Jason thinks it's sweet. He feels a foreign tenderness that’s only known to you. He’s learned to like it.

This feeling brings him close enough for him to imagine a family with you. The two of you are parents, and Milo is a son—your son. 

Too soon? His eye twitches as he sweeps the dream under the rug.

“Jay, look!” You grinned, pointing to Milo and some other dogs.

He’s surrounded by a pack of dogs, but they are clearly far from fighting. He definitely is an outgoing pet, something he probably got from you—or would get if-, yeah.

“I’m glad he’s getting along well. For a second, I was worried that the dogs would be hostile towards him.” 

“I don’t any man or dog could be angry at him. He’s too cute to be mad at.”

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. “I totally agree.”

Jason is sitting by your kitchen island figuring out a jigsaw puzzle you got him when he hears you giggle uncontrollably.

“Milo, Miiiilooo,” You cooed, cuddling the puppy closer and closer to your face. He licks your face, teeth faintly grazing the tip of your nose. You’re only giddy about it. “I love you.”

It’s right then and there, after that interaction, where everything clicks: Jason realizes he does not want, or rather cannot, be with anyone else.

Ever so gentle and ever so kind, you are. It only shines through with how much heart you can and do pour into this puppy. No matter how many shoes he tears through, the rolls of tissues he makes a mess out of, and the times he’s chewed through your hair, it seems that your love is always bountiful and dedicated.

He realized how shallow this sounds. Maybe it’s just the way he was raised. To be grateful for any semblance of gift you had.

“Darling,” he calls out.

“Yes?” You answer, lying on the floor while petting Milo.

“I love you.”

Jason thinks that he wants to be more than welcoming to the small creature. Getting a dog might be a good idea.

Certainly, you seem confused, and he’s almost scared that you’ll reject it. He knows that that won’t be the case (or, at least, he listens to you tell him that).

“I love you too, Jay-love,” you smile.

[rogueddie]

It takes Steve an embarassingly long moment to realise that the spray isn't doing anything. He tries shaking it… nothing. He even checks by spraying it on his hand, shaking it again. Nothing.

He tries listening as he shakes it again and, though he's sure there's some product still left inside, nothing will come out.

He reluctantly throws it in the little trash can, just next to the toilet door. He doesn't bother rooting through the draws or cabinets either; he'd used the last of his emergency powder kit yesterday. There's nothing left.

He huffs, folding his arms, glaring at his reflection. Specifically at the very overgrown, bright blond roots of his hair.

It brings up the same anxiety he's been having for the past month. It's taken him a long time to save up for his usual hairdressers. He hadn't thought it would take so long but, with the kids and now Robin and Eddie, it shouldn't be that surprising.

Robin often pays a good chunk for things too, often paying him gas money, but it's usually him paying for everything. And now that he's paying rent in his own little appartment? He's not often left with that much at the end of the month.

He's starting to think it's not worth the trip. But he isn't going to start using box dye or anything cheap. He's spent a long time taking care of his hair, spent just as long struggling to find the right products too.

He doesn't even care that the kids and Robin mock him for it, he has great hair and, screw it, he's proud. He's not going to damage it by getting bad hair dye.

He's already booked his next hairdresser appointment for the next day, already saved up gas money too. He might as well ask for bleach instead, go back to his natural color and save himself from anymore days with overgrown roots.

He almost regrets the idea when he gets to work.

"Holy shit, you're a natural blond?" Robins grin looks almost painful with how wide it is. She's a little too excited for his comfort. "I don't know how I didn't guess before. This explains so much. How have you kept this hidden for so long? It's so light!"

"Don't you have work to do?" He bats her hand away when she, again, reaches for his hair.

"Not anymore. Why do you dye it? How did it grow out so much? When did you start hiding it? Did someone pressure you into it? They didn't make fun of you, did they? Because I will hunt them down and-"

"No one made me dye it or bullied me into it," he huffs. He can feel his attempt at a cool demeaner soften with how quickly she jumps to his defense. "I just... I never liked it. I don't think it suits me. Brunettes are cute."

"Are you dyeing it again?"

"Probably not. The hairdresser I go to isn't exactly cheap."

"You can get box dye at-"

"I'm not using box dye."

"It's not that bad, and if you really hate the blond-"

Steve swats at her when she reaches for his hair again. With a heavy sigh, he braces himself for the shift full of questions and jokes of 'betrayal'.

Like he suspected, they don't get much work done.

When Eddie comes in, towards the end of their shift, Steve is almost relieved.

"Stop bullying him without me," Eddie complains.

"Thank you," Steve says, whilst Robin boos. "What is it tonight? Movie night with Wayne or some of the kids?"

But Eddie is frozen, staring at his hair.

"I think he's broken," Robin says after a pause.

"You're blond?" Eddie blinks. "When did you go blond?"

"Always have been," Steve shrugs. "Just... not dyeing it anymore."

"Oh."

Steve and Robin stare at him. They share a glance after a moment.

"You here for a movie?" Steve asks.

"What? Me? No, I- just stopping by. And you're... yeah. I'm gonna- I've got to go. Wayne is waiting and... you know. Bye."

He turns around and practically runs out the store. His wheels squeal a little as he drives out, most likely breaking the speed limit.

"Did he just..." Robin starts, trailing off with a frown.

"Unbelievable," Steve shakes his head. "Just when I give up, he realizes that he likes me too! What the hell, Bob. Is he only into blonds or something?"

[millenianthemums]

i was thinking about how a lot of horror stories set in one location get the “why don’t they just leave” criticism, but in real life it isn’t usually that simple. even really mild reasons characters might have for not leaving or for going back to the scary place can make total sense sometimes. and i thought about OJ’s “i got mouths to feed” thing, about taking care of the horses.

but then i was like “well OJ didn’t JUST care about the horses, it was also about not wanting Jean Jacket to win. but yeah he cares a lot about the horses, it makes sense. and he’s not the type to make big heroic speeches anyway, he’s not showy like that.”

and then i realized something cool about OJ as a character. OJ not being showy, not caring about spectacle, is what sets him apart from everybody else in the movie. others see the spectacle, he sees the people and animals caught up in it. in his first scene the others want to hurry and film, but he sees the horse is stressed; if they’d listened to him and backed off, it wouldn’t have kicked. he tried to save the motorcyclist who was just yelling at him to get the camera before being eaten. he’s the kind of person who wasn’t around on the Gordy set, who knew when to stop pushing and listen before something bad happened.

He was the only one who realized not to look in Jean Jacket’s eye. He didn’t give in and look up at the spectacle in the sky. He kept his eyes low, and because of that he saw the ones on the ground who were suffering and wanted to help. He SAW the horses, he cared for them and he risked his life to save Lucky. He SAW his sister when their dad broke a promise to her for fame and money.

Emerald was the one who got the “money shot” of Jean Jacket and defeated it. i think that was important and good for her to do. Defeating this thing that had caused her so much pain, that had killed her father, her friends and maybe her brother. And in doing so she captured proof of what she and her friends went through, made sure that suffering wasn’t all for nothing. OJ helped it happen, he was behind the scenes staring down Jean Jacket while she escaped. But Emerald was in the spotlight at the end. She won.

But with all this in mind, I think it’s really beautiful that the final shot of the movie, the REAL money shot, wasn’t Jean Jacket. It wasn’t anything all that weird or spectacular. On the contrary, it was deeply familiar.

It was OJ, on a horse.

[brokenmutations]

Night Shift

Logan Howlett • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Heightened Senses] • POSSIBLE DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS • Joining a new timeline didn’t stop the nightmares from occurring. But at least, he doesn’t suffer alone…or at all after some time • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Major Injuries / Blood Loss / Nightmares / Anxiety

“Another nightmare?”

Logan looks away from the scene that was New York City late at night to catch the eyes the voice came from, which happened to be Y/N. She had stepped out onto the fire escape for her own reasons and to her surprise there was Logan on the escape of the apartment next door.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that”

“Better than Wade sleepwalking. Had to save him from you cutting his head off for almost grabbing your balls” Y/N scoffs, bringing herself to sit in the stairs of the escape looking out to the same scene. “Should give you some rope to tie him to his and Al’s bed because who knows when he’ll sleep walk”

“If you’re offering, I’ll take it” Logan scoffs leaning over the railing listening to the noise that he both misses and wishes it would stop. Which really makes him miss his home in the woods…back in his timeline with his Y/N.

“I know you’re not one for charity, but if you ever need a good nights sleep or company after a bad night…my door, or window is always open”

“I’ll think about it next time, bub” Logan pulled himself away from the railing to bring himself back inside as Y/N remained outside taking in every single sound of New York before wincing and putting her headphones back on while heading back inside.

Logan thought a few nights with a nightmare each time that he could handle it. But staying up after every occurrence only made him grumpier and Wade wasn’t having it for the most part.

“I can tell just by your baby hand that Logan didn’t sleep well”

“All I ask for this writer is to give him SOMETHING, but no! Who cares about plot nowadays we all saw his fucking Hawaiian roll buttered up abs” Wade groans behind the mask wishing he didn’t agree to this mission with Y/N. “Sorry. Kitty was angry this morning because of the lack of sleep he’s been having.”

“I got that much, Wilson” Y/N frowns rubbing circles on his back before suddenly taking his katana and slicing the once running target that entered the wrong alley way. “Guess it’s a short day”

“Bless your fucking heart” Wade quickly took his phone out taking a picture of the hit and sending it to the contact. “I’ll send you your money when I get it”

“Are you going to use most of yours for cocaine again?”

“Get your bloodhound nose out of mine alright?!”

Y/N watched him leave amused for a moment before disposing of the body because baby-hand-magee couldn’t for whatever reason.

Returning to the apartment later than usual didn’t bother Y/N, but she also didn’t expect someone to be in her apartment at the hour that it was. She knew there was someone given her senses, so when she flicked the light on for Logan to scramble suddenly and notice her unfazed expression he was a bit surprised. But so was she a little.

“I didn’t think you’d take me up on it”

Logan shrugs a bit not knowing what to say as Y/N couldn’t fight back a smile. She enters the apartment entirely, shutting the door behind her as she drops her bag on the floor.

“Make yourself at home” Y/N shot him another smile while she walked past him to enter the kitchenette setting down the takeout bag she had along with her other belonging.

The man obviously felt foreign in her apartment even with the invitation. Logan brought himself to sit on the couch watching her movements that weren’t much different from her. Except for more hesitation when handling things that might overwhelm her senses.

“I got takeout and I always buy extra if you’re interested.” Y/N gestures with her head to the kitchen she stood in if he wanted some. But when he didn’t come once she finished putting her dinner in a bowl, she decided to make him one regardless.

While she did such, Logan looked at the frame pictures on the wall behind the couch noticing there was a picture of him. He brought his whole body to face it and get a better look.

This universe’s Logan looked happy and so did Y/N beside him. There was another beside it that was a Polaroid with Laura looking at the picture confused but had a laughing Y/N in the background with Logan reaching for the thing.

“There’s a whole box of Polaroids I can grab that she took from when she was younger” Y/N’s voice startled him slightly as if he had gotten caught for looking at pictures. “Some are very blurry but they mean a lot to Laura and I so I keep them” she handed his plate which he wasn’t going to refuse after she took the time to plate it.

Before she sat with him, Y/N pulled a box out from under the couch setting it beside him. “Whenever you want to look at them” she stated while finally sitting to eat her late dinner, she reached into her coat pocket to take out a bottle of pills and dropped one on top of her rice. Causing Logan to stare and inspect his food. “I didn’t drug yours. It’s my sleeping pill, I have to eat something with it and this just makes it easier”

You don’t need them, sweetheart. Just focus on my heartbeat. That’ll calm you down

Sometimes it’s as fast as jackrabbit, Lo. Are you sure it’ll work?

You’ve said the pills make yea sick in the morning. Even more drowsy. This will work and if not, I’ll help you find alternatives

Okay, love. You know I trust you

Logan’s heart started to ache for what he lost in his timeline and Y/N felt the mood shift as they sat together eating. She wanted to comfort him but didn’t want to over step in any way.

After some time and a little clean up, Y/N went to bed once she got the foldable bed ready for Logan. Leaving him with a box of pictures alone to go through. He didn’t right away and stayed in the bed trying to sleep but wanting to know what this world’s Logan was like to these two important people in his life was itching his brain.

A lot of the Polaroids were blurry and could tell those looking that the young photographer was just learning how to use it. Then they got clearer and Laura would mainly take pictures of Y/N with her because she didn’t mind it. But there was several of Logan both pissed that he’s being photographed and the occasional one where he’s admiring Y/N.

Then there’s a few, like three Polaroids…where her Logan had taken them. One of her sleeping on his chest, another with just the two of them, then one of Y/N in a window holding Laura as she slept. The back of it had some writing on it…

Who I’m fighting for

Logan couldn’t help but feel the pain that Y/N could’ve possibly—-and most likely did feel when she read that a moment after her Logan passed. It made sense why she sobbed when reuniting with Laura.

This kept him awake for a while longer until he finally let sleep take over.

More into the night is when Y/N woke through a haze hearing heavy breathing. The apartment was small even with a one bedroom so she could hear everything regardless of her mutation. She pulled herself out of the bed grabbing the oversized flannel off her chair to slip on so she wouldn’t be in just a tank top and shorts when investigating.

It was obvious what was happening when Y/N drew close to Logan’s tossing form. She carefully moved the box of Polaroid off the bed before bringing herself beside him.

“Logan…” Y/N whispers watching him grip onto the sheets and the smallest glint of metal revealing itself. “Logan it’s just a nightmare”

He wasn’t coming out of it and Y/N knew what could happen next. She then decided to risk it and do what she used to do for him.

________

“Logan it’s okay…you’re okay, nothing is harming anyone you love” Y/N whispers, resting her head on Logan’s chest that was once rising and falling at an unbearable speed. But the second her head rested on it, it slowed. “You’re okay…we’re okay…I’m okay…”

Once Logan calmed, he brought his arms around her sighing. He pressed his lips onto the top of her head feeling her relax against him.

“You just…know how to bring me back”

“I’ll always find a way to bring you back, Lo. Even if it kills me”

________

The second her head rested on his chest, Logan relaxed and the small hint of his claws coming out retracted back. He didn’t wake but he finally relaxed.

“You’re okay, Lo” Y/N whispers rubbing circles on his chest feeling his body relax beneath her. “Everything is going to be okay”

She let the exhaustion take her from the day and found herself fast asleep on him. The steady of his breathing and his heartbeat calmed her…calmed all the sounds she’s been overwhelmed with…

This has been happening for a while. Logan sleeping over and Y/N helping him sleep. She would normally slip out of his embrace during an early hour of the day so he wouldn’t notice. But after the first five times, he’s noticed. He didn’t want to say anything because he enjoyed it. Especially the one time she didn’t get up early and remained there peacefully, giving Logan a chance to admire her while she slept.

They both missed this with their universe’s other…but there was also more than their other had

The most recent time it happened, it was extra difficult to get Logan to fall back asleep with his claws still retracted. That when Logan woke in the morning, disappointed she wasn’t there…he realized shortly why when Y/N handed him coffee and her arm was bandaged. You can’t lie to Logan. You can try but it won’t work. He knows he cut her by accident and it was her first time but her first time with this Logan.

“I’m sorry…” Logan randomly told her when he accompanied her and Wade on a job. The two of them taking look out after Wade insisted ‘he got this’

“Nightmares are scary things, Logan. We all do things when we have them”

“I…You’ve never had them with me around” Logan whispered. “Or least when I’ve been around…”

“I guess I’ve been sleeping better…have been taking my sleeping pills less” Y/N knew the blush on her complexion was giving her away on how she felt and Logan tried so hard to ignore it but the tips of his ears burned red. “What’s taking Wade so long? I can’t hear any fighting or—-“

“Smell any blood. Should we—-“ Logan was cut off by the sound of an explosion as he instinctively covered Y/N who covered her ears until she felt alright to release. “Fucking moron”

“Awww thanks for the new nickname, peanut” Wade cheers strutting out of the now burning building with one less arm. He noticed their position and couldn’t help the smirk on his face. “So!” Ignoring the current fire. “Are you two coming to my party later? Al says she found cocaine but knowing her she probably had Mary Puppins sniff some questionable white bags so it could actually end up being meth”

“I don’t think the poor pup is an efficient drug sniffing dog” Y/N commented as she went into her bag to put her headphones on. “Besides. I’d love to but I have another job later”

“You uh need a hand?” Logan asked, sensing the devilish smirk on Wade’s face resulting in him unsheathing his claws making him hold his hands up.

“I was instructed to take it on alone…but I’ll be alright. Usually am” Y/N reassures. “You’re still…allowed to be in my apartment if you don’t want to be at the party for the whole thing”

“Oh he’s gonna stay. Yukio is gonna do tarot readings” Wade wrapped his baby arm around Logan, enticing a growl out of the man.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile before throwing her backpack on. “Just don’t get into too much trouble, Wade. I hate talking to the landlord for you” and with that said, she left the two to clean up whatever mess there could be after what Wade did.

The party was a bit much. Logan was starting to get frustrated even if he sat on the couch with Dogpool watching everybody get drunk, have their tarots read, and listen to more of Wade’s sex stories. He wasn’t doing much but nursing a beer and think about her. She’s been on his mind for much longer than when she said she was doing a job solo. He was going to take that night as an opportunity to admit to feelings he’s felt much longer than the time Y/N first helped him with his nightmares.

She’s always been patient with him when he was standoff-ish in the beginning.

She kept her cool when he’d yell out his frustration

She never hesitated to give him answers to any questions he had about her Logan or Laura

She always listens. Never pushes her thoughts.

She’s there whenever you need her.

Every Logan will love every Y/N out there…

Mary Puppins suddenly stirred beside Logan which he normally didn’t care about given she can do what she pleases. But she jumped off the couch and instantly went to the door starting to scratch it. Given the hour it was, 2AM, Wade was plastered and couldn’t take her out so he decided to do it himself.

Once the pup was strapped in her harness and leash, Logan opened the door only for Puppins to lunge forward and toward something that only made him grumble with the force she was giving.

“Calm down, bub. We’ll get outside soon” Logan sighs shutting the door behind him and stilling for a moment when he heard footsteps. He quickly scoops up Mary Puppins and hesitantly approaches the stairs.

If it wasn’t Mary Puppins in his arms, he’d drop everything. Instead he carefully set her down before quickly approaching Y/N and her fragile state.

“What happened?” Logan frowns hearing his heartbeat rapid in his ears as he tried to remain calm even if her currently bleeding state wasn’t helping.

“A lot. I…I wanna sleep”

“No, bub. You’re bleedin’ we gotta stop it…or—“ Logan froze when Y/N collapsed in his arms and he didn’t hesitate to yell for Wade.

It’s been an annoyingly anxiety inducing couple of hours in the ER, then the waiting room. Logan sat beside Wade who kept dozing off every now and then because of the booze in his system but at least Mary Puppins in his arm licked his face to perk him up. Logan’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing and the scowl on his face became more permanent expression until he heard any news.

In a panic, Laura quickly entered the waiting room scanning the room and locking eyes with Logan before approaching.

“What happened?!”

“A job gone wrong. It happens.” Wade yawns rubbing his eyes and once he got the sleepiness out of them he was met with an identical glare from Laura that matched the one on Logan’s. “What? She passed out before we got details, angel babies. We won’t know more until she wakes up. What I said is the best you’re gonna get” he sighed turning himself toward the reader of this story. “Afraid if I say more. I’ll traumatize the nurses over my baby limbs more than the amount of blood that escapes my hot bod”

Now as the four of them wait, with the occasional letting the pup out to do her business, Logan couldn’t help but think of when he lost his Y/N.

It wasn’t like with the rest of the X-Men, but if some of the X-Men were still alive. They would say it’s the reason he left in the first place

________

“What do you mean she didn’t leave the building?!” Logan shouted at Scott only to leave the plane in a hurry back to the scene.

“Jean stop hi—-“

“No”

“Jean.”

“Scott, let him go” Ororo sided with Jean in the silent agreement of he needs to see for himself.

The smell of her blood stained his senses the closer he got to it. Why didn’t they try and save her? What did she say to them?

Instead of those questions piercing a thought in his mind, Logan found Y/N barely hanging on and the only reason they didn’t pull her out because if they did…she would only die instantly and she needed him. For one last moment.

“No…No no no…Y/N, baby” Logan’s voice cracked at the sight as he dropped to his knees trying to figure out a way to cut through the beams that were piercing her in several places. “Baby I-I’m gonna…I-I…I-I’ll get you out. Yeah I will…”

“Lo…p-please…we both know—-“

“No! I can’t. I-I can’t lose y-you” He sobbed, this man with a rough exterior sobbed and it only broke her heart as she reached for him. Feeling his cheek gently place itself in her palm. “Please…D-Don’t leave me”

“I love you. I love you so m-much” Y/N winced feeling the pain subside but only in that direction. “Y-You…y-ou’ll find me…a-again…p-promise”

“Y/N…” Logan sobbed gripping her wrist and focusing on her breathing that started to slow. “I love you. Fuck I love you so much. I didn’t say it enough. I-I love you.” He cried watching the love of his life wither.

________

But this wasn’t happening again.

Laura laid her head on the side of Y/N’s bed with Logan’s jacket draped over her as she occupied the chair by her bed. While Logan sat in the one in the far corner. Wade had to bring Mary Puppins home and tell those who stayed the night after a drunken party that Y/N pulled through.

What happened was Y/N took another job for the same guy that her job with Wade and Logan came from. But the purpose of it being solely only her was to trap her and force information out of her on the regenerative properties the two have. She knows very little about the properties because Wade doesn’t know how his manifested and Logan’s don’t need a rocket scientist to figure out. They thought they hit the gold mine when capturing her but instead while they met their inevitable end, Y/N gotten beaten and physical broken in the process.

Which explains the sling made for collar bone fractures on her, and the bandaging around her torso for more than just internal bleeding but to stabilize the broken ribs. The bruises and cuts littered are self explanatory.

The only plus side to all of this in her case was how sterile and quiet a private hospital room is.

All Y/N heard were their heartbeats and how fast they were going given her current state.

“I’m…n-not dying. You can calm just a little bit” Y/N sighed out, hearing the quick shuffling indicating Logan practically shot out of his chair approaching her other side while Laura gently rested her hand on Y/N’s that was rested on her stomach. “I’m okay sweet girl” she reassured taking her hand into hers as she finally opened her eyes wincing slightly at the light and her shifting only to feel the extent of her injuries. “T-That goes for you too, Lo…I’m okay.”

“Your injuries say otherwise” Logan frowns sitting on the edge of the bed watching Laura hesitantly climb into the bed after Y/N ushered her to do so. “Don’t…don’t let her move too much, kid”

“Worrywart. She’s fine.” Y/N let her lay beside her as Laura was always mindful of injuries and didn’t mess with any of the tubes she was connected to.

She was in the hospital for three days. Laura stayed for two and went back to Y/N’s apartment to clean it up for when she comes back. Including getting her prescriptions and things. Logan stayed for all three days. She wanted him to stay for all three days.

“You okay on the pull out bed?” Y/N tried to help make the bed with the one arm but Logan quickly and gently took the part of the blanket out of her hand. “I can still help”

“You broke your collarbone on the left side, sweetcheeks. You ain’t lifting a finger even if five are out of commission” Wade tugged too much on his side resulting in a grumble from Logan and Laura to push him away.

“I’m okay on the couch bed, mo—-Y/N” Laura couldn’t help the embarrassed blush to rise on her cheeks for almost calling Y/N mom in front of others. Even if that’s what she is to her.

Wade being Wade was about to comment until Y/N glared at him before tiredly making her way to her room. Logan hesitantly follows, letting Laura boss Wade around to help her finish making the bed even if he’s already messed up.

“So uh. She’s staying on the couch bed so I’ll go back to Wa—-“

“You can sleep with me…” Y/N had her back turned to him which she was grateful given the blush that started to spread. “I’ll be bounded to one side since I have to be sleeping sitting up. Plenty of space for another body”

“I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you any further by accident”

“I promise you…you won’t hurt me” She frowns reaching for another pillow, only for Logan to stop her and do it himself.

Once the night stilled and Wade was sleeping on the floor while Laura took the bed…Logan laid awake beside Y/N’s still form occasionally glancing over to make sure she’s still breathing. As much as she was saved and alive, he couldn’t help the fear aching in his chest that she would disappear right before him.

The second he shut his eyes, they instantly shot open causing him to quickly look at her seeing her breathing heavy and tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“Y/N—-“ Logan quickly maneuvered on the bed to be sat on his knees by her side. Resting his hand on her face watching her face grimace and her eyes remain close. “Y/N, baby it’s a nightmare—-“

“P-Please…Please don’t take them from me again” She begged, still in her unconscious state as the tears kept coming her body tensed at first when she felt another hand rest on her other cheek. But suddenly relaxed and sobbed more while she opened her eyes. “Logan…everything is too loud”

Logan frowns wiping away her tears letting his body relax beside her and bringing her close while minding her injuries. The sense of protectiveness he emitted brought an old familiar warm feeling in Y/N’s chest as she looked up at him with a pleading expression.

“Just focus on my heartbeat, that’ll calm you down” He whispers being mindful of the noise happening inside her head as she rests her head on his shoulder keeping her eyes on him. “Breathe…just listen. Focus on that” he relaxed himself enough so his heart wouldn’t be pounding in her ears.

But the second she focused and started to finally relax after the nightmare, Y/N shut her eyes letting the last of the tears fall.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you” He whispers to her bringing his lips to her forehead hearing a soft sigh escape her lips.

“Logan…”

“Hm? What is it, princess?”

“Please don’t leave me”

“I’m not going anywhere”

[cheapshrimpysheep]

You Will Stop the Wedding! - Leona Kingscholar

SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar  x Reader

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration

WORD COUNT: 870 words

Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia

Rescuing You - Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech; Kalim Al-Asim

COMMENTS: What have I done? Why did I commit to writing this? And why did I write so much? Why was I so inspired? There were seven of them! Why do I do this to myself? So yeah, this took me a long time. But I hope it was worth it, for me and for you.

CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And he just found out that someone was you.

Leona couldn't care less about someone being kidnapped by a delusional princess, until he finds out that the student who was kidnapped was YOU.

He is shown to be more interested in the subject after that, which makes the other Housewardens question and some even messing with him. Probably Vil and Azul. He tells them to shut up.

He ends up not being part of the first groups, being in the last. Why? Because this is important, it is your life that is at risk after all. So he first needs to analyse those ghosts to know the best way to act. If it is necessary to risk losing pieces, then let them be pawns.

The whole time he acts like he's not doing this for you. As if he just wanted to prove that he could solve this in an instant. When it's the last group's turn, the other three who are with them end up staying behind to stall the guards. And he is the only one who can reach the ceremony hall.

And he follows the plan. He says to stop the wedding and the reason why the princess should marry him and not you is: “Unlike everyone who tried to woo you and unlike the person standing with you at the altar right now, I am actually royalty. Weren't you looking for a prince? Well, you have one right here. Now you just need to exchange that herbivore you have with you for me.”

The princess said he had good arguments, but she also showed that she didn't really like Leona's presumption.

“I apologize. I'm just trying to show you that I would be the more suited partner for you. The person you chose to be your partner doesn't even want to be there with you. Doesn't even like you.”

She gasps! And she starts to defend herself saying that it's a lie, that there is love for her in you, you just needed a little more time.

“Sorry to be the one to break the bad news to you, Your Highness, but that's not how it works. It is not after marriage that love arises. It is not with money and wealth that love arises. At least not true love. You should find someone who sees beyond that. May they see you for who you are and not for what you have. Someone who doesn't care about titles. And only then, maybe marry them. Knowing that with or without your kingdom, they will stay by your side.”

The princess admits that what he says makes sense and is wonderful. But wouldn't something like that take a long time? Someone who can prove that they would stay with you no matter what. How would she know when she found them? And then, the guard who is in love with her decides to declare himself. And that whole ending of the princess realizing that she loved him too happens, they get married and happily ever after.

After everything, he took the time to brag to the others about having solved the problem and saved them all and the school. Some of the others still comment that that speech was very interesting. Maybe true? But with all his pride, he continues to say that just goes to show what a good actor he can be. He just doesn't get Vil's roles because he's not interested. “You would wish.” Vil replies.

When everyone was leaving and only the first-years were left to clean everything, Leona calls you for a minute. “So the ring ended up not being needed in the end. Tsk.” he comments “Here, you can have it.” He throws the ring towards you like throwing a coin in the air. “You never know if there are more single ghosts out there looking for a herbivore partner. Ha ha ha.”

He likes to mess with you, so you mess with him back. You say you wonder if the ghosts are the only ones who would like to have you as their partner.

“Are you implying that I'm also interested in you?” He smirks. In response, you ask why he would go to so much trouble to save someone he doesn't care about. “Did I ever say I didn't care about you?” He says, still smirking, but then adds: “Before I really know you don't count.”

Slightly fed up with all these mixed signals, you tell him that if he wants to tell you something now would be the time. Especially because if he just continues with those comments, you will simply accept the excuses he gives and understand that he really doesn't like you that way.

“Are you going to tell me that you don't like it when I'm hard to put up with?” he keeps saying with his smug face.

You turn to drop the conversation and walk away. After about three steps, he grabs your hand, stopping you and then pulling you towards him. His other hand on your waist.

“Fine, fine. What if I told you that whole speech was about you?” Maybe if he repeats it, looking into your eyes, you'll believe it. “Unfortunately for you, Savanaclaw is a dorm of actions, not words.” And he kisses your lips.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[satorusugurugurl]

Manicure

Summary: Gojo decides to FaceTime you while on a mission. But when he calls you while you're doing your nails, there's a twitch in his pants that he can't ignore.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 1,477

Warnings: horny Gojo, cursing, jerking off, reader unaware

A/N: I loooove facetime smexy stuff and masturbation. Bork bork woof!! Just a short little drabble!!

Overseas missions were the worst. One, Gojo hated them because he was away from you, his beautiful girlfriend, and second, he always got incredibly horny. Now the thing about Gojo Satoru was that when he was around you, he was horny all the damn time, but you know what they say. Distance makes the heart grow fonder?

Yeah, well, distance made his dick harder.

Luckily, the special grade curse he was sent to handle was taken care of. The only bad thing was that he had to attend a stupid meeting in Kyoto the following day. So he sulked in bed, brushing his damp hair back as his phone rang, waiting for you to pick it up. If he could hear your voice and see your pretty face, he might be able to survive the next day.

The instant your face lit up his screen, he smiled wide, muscles relaxing as your cheeks flushed as you beamed. “Toru!” You greeted enthusiastically, swaying in the chair you sat in. “Hi, baby! I miss you!” Seeing your grinning face was enough to ease the sore, stiff muscles in his back.

“Hi, sweetheart, what are you doing?”

Looking at the counter you sat on, he noticed several items. A bottle of nail polish, a bottle of nail polish remover, and your UV light lamp. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to put what you were doing together. But there was something about how excited you got explaining the process of doing your nails that always left him smiling.

You had been doing your nails for the last few years to save money. Satoru had offered multiple times to pay for you to get your nails done, but you insisted that you preferred doing your nails, but he could pay for your pedicures if he wanted. You were never the type of girl to have him pay for everything despite him wanting to.

“I’m doing my nails!” You excitedly told him, holding up the hand that wasn’t under the glowing blue light. “See, I found this pretty cerulean blue that matches your eyes!”

Satoru glanced at the screen but wasn’t focusing on your nails. He was staring at your hand. The pretty hand that looked utterly gorgeous wrapped around his cock. His mind trailed off, thinking of how pretty the blue would look against his stiff shaft as you jerked him off.

“Mmm, it’s pretty.” Slowly, he slid his hand down his chisel chest, dipping it underneath his sweatpants. “I like the shape.”

“Oh yeah,” you moved your hand, turning it so you could look at the shape of your nails. Your fingers curled in slightly, and Satoru imagined his cock sliding in and out of your hand as he stroked himself. “I tried to do a more oval shape, but I prefer the square shape.”

“I-I think your nails look good regardless.” His hand squeezed around himself as he stroked up and down his throbbing, thick shaft. Moving up to the tip, where he massages the sensitive head, a dribble of beading pre-cum over his slit. “Mmmn, such pretty nails. Pretty hands and a pretty face.”

“Whoa, someone misses me!” You tease, pulling one hand out before sliding the other under the lamp. “But what about my personality?”

Satoru stroked himself hard, groaning as softly as he could as you held your hand out in front of you, examining the work you’d done. “You’re beautiful inside and out, babe, so pretty. Big brain, good heart, and a nice ass.” And he could not wait to get behind, slapping and groping you as he fucked you into the mattress. From that position, he’d be able to see you dig those beautifully painted nails and the sheets, gripping onto them for dear life as he fucked the life out of you.

“That’s more like it.” You glance at the camera with a grin that fell as soon as it tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Satoru? Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, why?” He stroked himself faster, exhaling through his nose, doing his best not to clue you in on what he was doing. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have phone sex with you, but he knew until you put the topcoat on your nails, your gel polish would be tacky and easy to mess up. He also knew that if you were to get on your skin, the possibility of you developing an allergy was very likely. So he’d have you sit this out and get off to your pretty pretty face without knowing for now.

“Your cheeks are red, and you seem out of it?” Concern flashed over your features as you pulled your hand out from under the lamp. “The higher-ups are seriously seriously pushing you too far. You need to tell them you need a break.”

Oooh fuck, he loved it when you got all heated like that. There was something about the carnal anger that made its way across your features that made his cock throb, which was currently doing so in his hand. He just nodded his head, biting his lip as he smeared more pre-cum over his aching tip.

“I know, I know, baby.”

“You know what? I’m taking this into my own hands.” You put another coat of the shimmer blue polish on your nails. “Your next mission will involve me taking care of you before I turn into a special grade curse.”

Satoru stroked himself faster, biting his lip as you focused on your nails. “Yeah~? How are you going to take care of me?” You shut your eyes with a gentle smile without looking at the camera.

“Well, I would start with your nice warm bath.” God, why the fuck were you so cute? “Then I’d make you a nice home-cooked meal, and we’d have your favorite kikufuku for dessert.” God, hearing you talk about spoiling him had his body relaxing as Satoru stroked himself faster, playing with his balls before squeezing his tip. He watched your face as you continued doing your nails without knowing he was masturbating. “Then I would give you a nice massage, run my fingers through your beautiful hair, scratching your scalp, and then I would let you fall asleep on my tits because I know you love to do that.”

Satoru’s balls clenched in his hand as he bucks his hips forward fucking into his fist. “I-I love you, fuck, I love you.” He was so close, oh so fucking close to cumming.

“Awe, Toru, I love you too.” You blew him a kiss, which sent him over the edge. Ropes of cum coated his hand and chest, leaving him groaning as he chewed on his lip, trying not to alert you as to what he was doing. But as he lay there, cock twitching limply against his abdomen. You finally took him in as a whole.

Something wasn't right, from his sweat-coated forehead to the rosey tint to his cheeks and chest. You fought against the panic rising in your chest. You figured perhaps maybe the exhaustion was getting to him. The higher-ups had pushed him too far this time; he was a thousand miles away, and there wasn’t anything you could do.

“Satoru? Baby, are you okay?”

Your white-haired boyfriend chuckled breathlessly. “I’m fucking fantastic. God, I love you; I miss you so fucking much.” He sat up, bringing the phone close to his face. “If I didn’t have to go to this stupid fucking meeting tomorrow, I would teleport right there and show you just how much I miss you.” This time, your cheeks were burning with a blush as he pulled your hand out from under the UV lamp. “Finish up doing your nails, take a hot shower, and text me when you’re in bed.”

“Huh, why wou—” you choked on your words as he held up a hand coated in white sticky cum, “I-I—!”

“I need to show you my mess and return the favor. Get your Bluetooth vibe out, and text me when you're ready. God, I fucking love you.”

Without another word, the lying disconnected, leaving you sitting there, hands half-painted and panties wet. You weren’t sure if you were in shock over the fact he had jerked off to you talking about normal stuff? Or how the hell had he gotten away with jerking off without you knowing it? All you knew was that you needed to finish doing your nails fast because you have a phone sex date to get to!

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[tinytennisskirt]

best friend!patrick zweig who is totally not in love with you…

headcanons with a plot <3

warnings: mentions of sex, kissing, marijuana, smoking, casual touches, jealousy, and silent yearningggg

- insists that he drives you home even if you’re the slightest bit tired. you yawn at his place- you’re not driving home. he says it’s to keep you safe but really, he just wants more time with you.

“it’s like twenty minutes out, i’ll drive, it’s nothing.”

“i’m perfectly fine to drive! i just yawned, i’m not tired.”

his foot is down. “yeah, that’s not happening.”

“you’re going to take a bus home? patrick…”

“i’ll take a taxi if it makes you feel better?”

“uh huh.”

- he follows the sidewalk rule. he’s never heard of it before but he does it, just on his own.

- saves you the last slice or even bite of anything he’s eating that’s worth it. he orders a really good burger, the very last bit left is yours. ordering a pizza, the last slice is yours. even a slice of cheesecake, the last bite is yours. bonus points to him for making sure the last bite contains all elements of what he had. the burger has all toppings left on the last bite, the cheesecake has the crust and the caramel drizzle, etc.

- doesn’t get why you choose such shitty men to go out with and waste your best dresses for the wrong eyes. he plays it off as caring about you, but he’s jealousss

“i have another date tonight with tony,” you tell him. he looks up from the can of ravioli he’s opening.

“tony with the hair or tony with the fake hair?”

you tsk, “with the hair.”

“the guy with the weird moustache who runs the laundromat? really?”

“he’s nice!”

“just nice shouldn’t cut it. and doesn’t he have the weird butt-chin thing? come on.”

“he treats me well! compliments me, pays for things…”

“yeah okay, with the laundromat money, you’re sure it’s not going on credit?”

by the end of the conversation he’s telling you that you look nice, a little defeated, but he means it. he can’t talk you out of it truly without first admitting he likes you and secondly, admitting to you he likes you.

- he’s always down to spend time with you. he might say he’s busy but he’s not. and when he is, he moves things around just to see you, but he won’t tell you that.

- he buys the drinks you like just to keep them in the fridge. he buys more every time he goes out so the stock of it keeps growing and soon enough it’s taking up two shelves in his fridge.

“i’m going to make something to eat for dinner,” you say, opening the fridge. and the fridge is near-full of your favourite drink. he usually gets it for you, you’d assume he just had a few but no. he has so many. and the thing is, he doesn’t like the drinks. so it’s just really weird. there’s a million of your drinks and then in the empty spaces, ketchup, mustard, milk, ground beef, cheese, and two red peppers next to the can of opened redbull. what for? who knows. you walk back out to where patrick is sitting and he looks up from his phone.

“we can get groceries. don’t have much right now,” he reaches for his keys and you laugh just a little, which stops him. you hold up one of the drinks and he just stares at it, knowing you know about the shelves upon shelves of it. “they were on sale, fuck off.”

- any time you’ve slept at his place he either gives up his bed and sleeps on the couch, or if you fall asleep on the couch you always wake up the next morning with a comfy blanket over you and a proper pillow under your head. he won’t move you, he’s too afraid to wake you. or on nights when you know you’re staying over or even on a whim, he’s used to giving you his clothes to sleep in because he knows you like the fit of them. they’re comfortable.

- without you coming over, patrick wouldn’t do any of his chores. he’s only motivated by the idea that you might come over and think he’s a slob. you already know he’s a slob, but he does a good job at hiding it. it always smells a bit like febreeze when you come over and not that you mind it- it smells good. but it can’t mask the slight cigarette scent and the scent of his cologne which is without a doubt on every surface he’s ever layed on.

- he’s the guy you can go to for honest opinions because he’ll always shamelessly side with you. a fight with a friend who was clearly in the wrong? he doesn’t even try to see the other perspective, he’s on your side no matter what. your ex and his new girl? he thinks she’s ugly and a downgrade and he’s an asshole for posting the grocery store flowers he got for her. he’s jealous, but he’s good knowing your ex fumbled you.

“they’re yellow.”

“he got her yellow chrysanthemums?”

you chuckle and look at him. “you know what flowers those are?”

“saw them the other day at the store. on sale, $5. same ones, look at the wrapping.” he says, pointing at the laptop. “he’s broke and she doesn’t even know it.”

you laugh. he’s glad to hear it.

- when you go out to bars he pays for your drinks. says you deserve it- you do come over and cook all the time so why not?

- patrick is known to crack a few jokes but when you’re serious, so is he. you’re upset? he’s listening, he won’t make fun of you unless he knows it’ll make you feel better. he’ll sit next to you, let you talk, cry, get really angry, get really sad. he’s there. and he’ll comfort you in whichever way you need. it’s his softer side, the one you bring out. lets you lean against him, he’ll even hug you if you ask.

- he’s a GOOD HUGGER. he gives amazing hugs, they are so enveloping, so comfortable. his arms wrap all the way around and not only do his arms squeeze you the perfect amount of tight, but his hands as well. he’s always warm but not hot, and he smells like good cologne and slightly of cigarettes. he’ll take any chance to hug you and you’ll gladly have it.

- struggling not to think about fucking you when you’re trying on dresses for a date. he’s thinking ‘what will these guys think when they see you?’ and his mind is on one thing that they’ll be thinking. but his mind is on it too, when you come out in a little black tube dress and you ask him if it’s too short. it’s too short for sure.

“what about the cleavage though? too much? not enough?”

“hm?” he’s not paying attention to your words.

“the cleavage. too much?”

“yeah. maybe try a turtleneck.”

yeah yeah it’s wrong to think about sex with your best friend, but the dresses, each shorter and showing more skin than the next we’re making him so incredibly horny. he doesn’t do well with that. goes home and fucks his own hand at the thought. helps to distract himself from the fact you’re out on a date with someone else who might actually get to take off that dress :(

- he’ll show up at your place with whatever it is you say you’ve been wanting and he will make a night out of it. wings? he’s at your door with them in an hour. drinks? yeah he stopped for a six pack of whatever he grabbed. he’s always down to get food. you want to go out? he’ll pick you up to go get whatever it is you’ve been wanting. a good excuse to actually work on bulking. not that it’s date-like.

- he’s got a photo of you in his wallet. it’s a platonic thing, he swears to the girl he takes on a date. she’s pretty but she’s not you. the photo of you sitting pretty with a potted plant doesn’t give off ‘available’ and yeah he kisses her but she is not you. he leaves early and calls you on his way back. he’s pretty sure he’s fucked forever because he’s realizing he only wants you.

- he’s protective at parties. he’s already watching you dance and have fun but when you come there with him and start flirting with guys it provokes him just a little more than it would if he were sober. he’ll walk over and slip his arm around your shoulder or even your waist if he’s had enough to drink and he’ll ask the guy how he’s doing and he’s 100% running interference pretending he’s just out of it from the alcohol and it isn’t the fact he’s jealous.

“hey man,” patrick usually greets the guy, hand resting on the small of your back. he’s always got a big smirk on his face, tongue against his cheek. “what’s up?” the move usually scares the guy off and you playfully hit or elbow him, but it’s worth it.

- his doors are always open to you. you have a key if you need it. so when you show up, soaked from the rain, upset over tony the laundromat guy being the dick patrick was so right about him being (despite not knowing the guy at all), he wraps you in his arms and he listens to the whole story. you’re complaining about genuine men being so hard to find and he’s sitting right there. he just brings his hand to rest against his jaw and looks off to the side at something as you continue speaking and he’s listening, he just hates what he’s hearing.

- he’ll take off whatever jacket he’s wearing if you’re cold. he won’t be happy about it- or look happy about it, but he might be a little happy about it… he’ll complain about what he’s going to do in the cold but the sweater or jacket is on you within five minutes of your ask.

- he’ll begrudgingly do whatever you ask of him. like he does not want to get up at 4:50 in the morning and drive to the hilltop to watch the sunrise. he wants to stay asleep, snoring in his bed, but you wake him up and he hates it, but it’s you and it’s the sunset so he goes with you. but in his still-tired state all he can seem to focus on is the light of the sunrise hitting your skin. he’ll either do it super slowly or begrudgingly, sometimes he might even say no. but it never stays a no.

- again. can’t stand that you keep giving your time to men who don’t know how to treat you. he goes to the bar, he drinks about it a little, he talks to the bartender about you. the bartender knows you by name, knows your favourite album, knows you go out with guys who aren’t him, and he knows you’re beautiful, having your features described by a drunk patrick who uses his hands a lot to gesture. it’s weird when you go to the bar with patrick another night and the bartender already knows your name and the drink you want.

- drunk patrick uses all the self control he has not to tell you he wants you. he almost lets it slip with unfinished sentences. does everything he can to fend himself off, but he’s very close to you when he’s drunk, his already-bad spatial awareness so much worse while impaired. his face always close to yours, nose sometimes hitting yours, he comes so close. hands reach for your waist when he’s near you. you don’t mind it- it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. it’s a different feeling. you manage to wrangle him into his bed and make him drink water. he’s talking to you like there are important things you need to know before he absolutely passes out.

“if that tony guy comes around again i hope he knows i owe him a broken nose,” he’ll say and he’s grinning and you’re just rolling your eyes at him, he’s so stupid. “you have to stop dating these guys, fucking douchebags. i know i’m not much better, but at least i don’t wear axe body spray and pick you up in a beat up honda.”

“patrick, you drive a honda,”

“mine isn’t beat up.” he says. so honest. you laugh at him and hand him back the cup of water. but he says it, “you deserve more than that kind of guy. want you to have someone who really gives a fuck, you know?”

“if i could find one,” you say. half-oblivious, half-looking for him to say something that’ll have meaning. it’s the first time his drunk mind is telling him the feeling in his chest is heartache. oh my god, he feels like such a girl- he just grins, dimples on his cheek crawling all the way up. he covers his face.

- when you’re hanging out with mutual friends, smoking, talking, he’s always taking the seat next to you. your friends all know he’s into you- most of them suspect you’re already dating on the down low, the way you guys are so close. you’re sitting on the couch and his arm is up on the back of the couch behind you, your hand sometimes resting on his leg, you have your own conversations on the side and you’re laughing and leaning toward each other. it’s obvious. he’s obvious. YOU are obvious. and oblivious! painfully.

- patrick will shave his beard for your birthday. he’ll trim it regularly but on your birthday he shaves it all off, it’s an annual thing. bare-faced and you find it so so fun to see him without.

- the dress you wear on your birthday is a little too perfect. the mix of you and your hair done and your makeup and the intention of drinking with your girl friends and asking him how you look before you leave. you usually ask him before you go out. he’s going out with you and your friends, but he comes over a little early, just how things are. he’s always honest.

“you look… wow.” he’s looking at you. you’re standing in front of him, little dress, perfectly fit to your body. and you’re smiling, doing a little spin. and you’re beautiful and god you’re so fucking hot. patrick fears for the possibility of his sober thoughts becoming drunk words later. you’re already unbearably fucking beautiful what is he going to do with himself?

- he’s a touchy drunk. not with everyone, not the same way he is with you. when he drinks his hands are magnetic to you, resting on your hands, hand on the small of your back, your waist, your arm. like i said before, you’re used to it, you don’t mind it, but it’s different when he’s staying somewhat sober because he’s afraid of how he’d act if he had more than three shots. he wouldn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with- it’s not that, it’s the fact he’s scared if he drinks tonight that you in your element, dancing, laughing, having fun in that little dress would provoke him to spill all of his secrets. he’s got a stoic form of self-understanding he’s taking to prevent anything dumb from falling out of his mouth under the influence.

- he does, however, fend off the creepy guys or just the assholes who try and buy you more drinks or even talk to you. he won’t let them get so far as to ask for your name. you whine but he just tells you, “you wouldn’t want to talk to them sober.” and you’re like hmm true. the defender position includes closing your tab, getting you home, and getting you inside safely. and usually you take care of him when he’s drunk or high, but he takes the opportunity very seriously. before he’s helped you get to bed but this particular time you’re asking him to undo the zipper on your dress and you’re lifting your hair.

he’s not going to tell you no, so he undoes the zipper and in seconds you’re stripping in front of him unabashedly and he turns around, arms folded, grinning to himself because of course this was happening. he is not an asshole, so he won’t turn around until you’re dressed, but when he turns around you’re only in one of his shirts that he’s been wondering where it went- and your underwear and you’re asking him to come sit with you because it’s still technically your birthday (it’s not).

he will, but he doesn’t want to stick around too long. despite the lack of alcohol, there’s still a pull to tell you how he feels, but that’s girly. and you’re drunk. he puts you to bed after making you drink water.

- he’s the kind of guy to keep a condom in his wallet- he’s never going to use it, it’s probably expired and worn in front his wallet being in his pocket but he has it in there. in fact it’s right behind the photo of you.

- he also has a stolen street sign in his living room from when he was on tour after high school. it’s custom for all guests visiting his place to slap it before they enter the room. if you don’t, there’s no consequences, but it’s just wrong not to. he will, however, catch YOU on it if you forget. holds you to it in whichever way he can.

- he’s totally debating on kissing you almost every time he’s with you. it’s getting progressively worse every time he’s with you he swears he’s going to do it but he doesn’t want to. (he wants to sooo fucking badly, it’s insane). any time you pass him by, every time you say his name, when you sit next to him, when you’re talking to him about anything, engaging with him, looking him in his eyes. it’s a struggle not to.

and you’re friends, longtime friends so the casual touches get to be too much, even. you cup his face with your hands saying he needs to shave and he’s only staring at your lips.

or you sit sideways next to him on the couch facing him and your hand is on his shoulder and you’re so close to him when you talk he really could just reach over and kiss you.

you sit on his counter while he’s making spaghetti and you’re eating the shredded cheese out of the bag and it’s weird but the height your at, it would be perfect.

- you are the cause of his biggest grins and most laughter. you don’t even have to try. he enjoys your company more than anyone else’s. platonically, romantically, in every way. you are his best friend. you get him on a level even art didn’t.

- he’ll pick you up whenever you need him to. doctors appointment, from a friend’s- so when your self-proclaimed final attempt at a date ends up terribly, he’s the first person you call. you’re all pretty for another piece of shit and patrick has to pretend he’s not happy the guy was so weird. you get in the car and his eyes fall on your collarbone and your thighs and you yourself catch it. his eyes. you pull a knowing little look. “shut up,” he says, driving away without even letting you get your seatbelt on.

- he’s not a door holder very often. maybe for old ladies and kids, and the occasional friend, but he’s holding every door open for you. he even opens the car door for you most times. get back to his place, you don’t want to go home yet, he holds the door for you on your way in. you hit the street sign on the wall before flopping down on his couch. it smells like citrusy febreeze and a bit like his cologne. out of his personal needs of restraint, he tosses you one of his comfy shirts and shorts so you can be out of that little dress. and after you take them to his bathroom to get changed, he’s still feeling the same way about the way you look. it was not the dress’ fault.

- the thing with patrick and other women is he’s never been afraid to go up to a girl, hit on her, he’s hardly been afraid to kiss a girl. he’s pretty confident all around but you are so different. the need to kiss you is all-consuming. he wonders if he should talk to you about things first when he’s never considered more than the flavour of a girl’s lip balm in the past. you make him nervous, sitting there in his clothes. i say there, but you’re next to him, hair behind your ears, talking about how you think you’re done with dating and you’re going to wait until the perfect guy falls into your lap. you’re playing some angle but he’s thinking that it’s a good thing. the conversation turns to joking, he’s teasing you, you tease back it’s just normal.

- of course patrick has a snack pantry. if he doesn’t have groceries, he has snacks. at a random point in conversation you tell him you could really go for an oreo right now and he’s so on that. so you both take a trip to the kitchen and you’re looking in the cabinet and you find the oreos and share them while continuing to talk at the counter. you’re going on about how strange your date was and how you felt if you stayed you’d be on a true crime document and the conversation begins to turn to thanking him for coming to get you. but like mentioned before, he’d always come get you. didn’t matter how far you were but he wouldn’t say that.

“it’s different, it’s not like you picking me up from the dentist, it’s you picking me up when i know you were busy.” you say. he smiles because he really wasn’t that busy- he was just out with friends of course he’d drop them for you. “i just want you to know i’m grateful is all.”

“don’t need to be-“ he says with his mouth full of oreo. “it was nothing, i was nearby anyway.” he wasn’t. he sped. in his honda.

“you’re so weird,” you giggle. “why can’t you just be normal about people thanking you for things you do? you go out of your way far too often.”

patrick chuckles to himself, shutting the package of oreos. he doesn’t do it for anyone else. “how do i be normal about it?”

“you could say ‘you’re welcome’, maybe?” you say. he nods. “i say i’m grateful for you and the things you do for the people you care about, namely me and you say ‘you’re welcome’.”

“we’re rehearsing?” he straightened himself as if getting ready and you pressed your hand to your forehead, smiling. “go for it. say how grateful you are for me and the things i do for you. only you.”

“so stupid, just say you’re welcome.” you giggle, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. he grins, a sly grin, dimple on full display, gorgeous. he turns away from you to put away the oreos (if you weren’t there he wouldn’t have put them away). he shuts the cabinet door. “patrick?”

“yeah?”

and he’s met with your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

- the way patrick kisses is very passionately. that’s who he is. he kissed a lot of girls in high school, met a few on tour that were worth making out with. his kisses are full of passion. but this kiss is from you, so he receives it like a gift. surprisingly politely. he’s never ever been caught so off-guard by a kiss. he didn’t see it coming at all. it’s a small kiss, a few seconds of lips fitting together perfectly, but you pull away. his face stays close to yours. he’s never had a kiss like this before. in the crowd of girls he’s ever kissed. it’s never felt like this. and it was so small.

“i’m sorry,” you say, hushed, but you’re smiling, so how sorry are you? he grins and in an instant, you’re kissing again, deeper, more, hands in his hair and his on your waist, holding tight. it’s all he’s thought about for a month on end. there’s something better than drugs and it’s this, patrick thinks. your back against the pantry door, him against you.

- he’s never been so in need of a kiss before. he’s never been kissed like this before. it’s somehow everything he’s ever wanted and everything he’s never gotten from every girl he’s ever kissed. and the thing about patrick is, like mentioned, he’s a moderately horny guy but this to him is all he wants. he only wants to kiss you. a few minutes pass and he’s doing something he’s never done and that’s talking it out with you. but as soon as he admits he likes you, he’s telling you to shut up because you’re giggling and it’s adorable and you can’t be calling him out on his crush like that…

- you admit to being a little oblivious and maybe admitting to repressing feelings because you weren’t entirely sure- and he’s instantly on making fun of you for it. he makes fun of himself for not seeing it sooner or for making a move sooner but there’s no room for apologies between another kiss. a kiss full of laughter where you just can’t stop laughing but you also won’t stop kissing him and it’s kind of perfect.

[hana-no-seiiki]

This is generally such a stupid ask but I feel like it would be.. Chaotic? At the very least amusing

Anyways

Batfam x Nicole from Class of 09! Reader

Do what you want (etc make it romantic or platonic, doesn't matter)

Just the batfam (yandere ofc) dealing with a chick who loves to ruin lives for her amusement and sometimes for revenge

Istg she'll just bully them at any chance she gets

~ 🕒

I just binged watched Class of ‘09 and all its endings/choices for you non. I don’t think I can fully depict how brash wittiness of Nicole is but here I go! (I am so traumatized) Didn’t know that’s where “No I’m flirting with you flash me a tiddy bitch” came from no wonder Nicole sounded so familiar.

btw if people are interested in watching class of ‘09 just be warned it’s basically a VN version of Degrees of Lewdity but the mc is actually a minor (without the sex/r*pe mechanic though) and it depicts a lot of just… pedophilia, necrophilia, assault, su*c*de, school shootings, racism??, BE WARNED.

The following content above ^ might be mentioned in this fic but in passing. MASSIVE DDDNE WARNING.

I don’t think I’m comfortable writing stepcest/incest in this blog so despite how perfect it’ll be to make Bruce your step father considering Nicole’s mom has divorced like a hundred times…maybe ask me in @yoru-no-seiiki and I’ll be down for it.

THIS IS ADMITTEDLY TIM + DAMIAN CENTRIC

“Do you even care? Do the results of your actions mean anything to you?”

“Yeah when they affect me, sure.”

You were a bitch. There was no denying that. But you were a pretty one. One many would grovel to be under.

You were used to this, ever since you reached a certain age people just looked at you different, acted in a way that… made you think they were boring, utter losers.

One of those losers was Tim’s friend.

Like all the stupid, horny men in your life, you hung out with him once and he spilled everything there was that you could share.

To the entire campus, the internet, even the news.

And because you were pretty, you got off scot-free. Those morons didn’t even check to see what you’ve been doing the past decade.

Except Tim. Timothy Drake. You only knew that his dad was super rich, and as much as it was tempting to sink your teeth into him and get a load of that daddy’s money, you knew better.

He apparently didn’t.

You see there was one thing every batfam member couldn’t resist. Well, two things. The first was saving people.

The second? Fixing them.

When Tim first approached you he was confused.

You were quite the popular figure in Uni. He heard the rumors. He fully expected to be cussed out to hell and back.

But you were… nice. Agreeable at most really. Brash was an understatement. But you were witty. Your comebacks were swift and deadly.

The more he studied stalked you the more he realized that the two of you were the same.

Two bright people stuck with dull idiots.

And Tim? Tim interested you enough for you to not to completely drop him after the first week. That and most of your bullying probably wouldn’t bode well towards the son of a billionaire.

He was smart, even more so than that nerd friend of his that you destroyed the life of. But more importantly he actually had some tact, and was surprisingly packed underneath all those baggy clothes.

Tim had to admit he was kind of forgetting his entire purpose of ‘fixing’ you.

Until you manipulated yet another guy into jumping off a school building for you. Thankfully he survived because Red Robin happened to be there to apprehend him but still!

And what’s worse, you met up with him afterwards talking about how that Red Robin ruined all your plans of crippling a r*pist.

Wait, a r*pist?

Tim looks through your past victims once more. Admitted he only did a surface level job of studying them in comparison to his PhD level knowledge on everything about you specifically.

And…you were right. Every guy you’ve harassed was being pushy with you in the first place, if not people with authority a decade older.

Fuck.

Well now he had no excuse. He had to make you his.

Meanwhile…

“Ugh, Damian. Can’t you tell your brother to like, fuck off or something? I can feel my social standing totally plummet every second he’s around. How do you handle being related to him?” You groaned. You weren’t fucking stupid. You knew Tim was stalking and drooling all over you lately. You hated it. He was ruining your chances with your new victims.

“Jeez [Y/N]. And here I thought you were like, into him.” Jessica, your actual crush and best friend, commented as she filed her nails.

You being the emotional stunted adult you were only replied with an (admittedly softer) “Eat a sandpaper cock and die bitch.”

Damian stared at you, the words die before they crawl out of his mouth. His hands clenched underneath the lunch tables.

Guess he had another thing to steal from his brother this time.