#but he is basically trying to communicate that he didn't hear from will and that upsets him

[rotisseries]

i love that every time I see the general audience hating on mike, it's always because of will? like they'll be like ''oh mike's a shitty friend, he's awful to will, he only pays attention to his girlfriend'' there will be the occasional "he's not a great boyfriend" but it's like, an add-on, like an afterthought? which is so funny, because even at his WORST mike treats will way better than el actually. like I'm a mike apologist obviously but if I was going to be listing reasons to be a mike hater, I would START WITH "his girlfriend got humiliated by an ENTIRE roller rink, and he only gave a shit about his friend not paying attention to him, AND THEN freaked out on his girlfriend for retaliating towards her bully"

[rubys-domain]

i might be terrible for feeling like this. but the sheer amount of schadenfreude i have after finding out that freminet is likely going to be a shit unit is through the roof lmao

[inkskinned]

there's this video you've probably seen already where a woman is shaking in front of a microphone and delicately tries to ask - how can i make my husband listen to me, i've tried everything, i don't want to seem ungrateful and the other man laughs - the problem is that you married a man, we're only listening 25% of the time and we only understand 5% of that! and the audience laughs and the woman laughs and you just sat there, phone in your hand, letting the sound of it echo

and the thing is that people make think-pieces about it (isn't this one of them) and satire versions and "flipping the script" which is good and fun but at the end of the day, there's some truth in that man's response about men-not-listening. and you have tried to language that feeling for years, this sense that you can only take up 33% of a conversation before others view it as being "dominating".

it's not that they aren't listening, it's that the action they're taking is purposefully silencing. it's different. you accidentally-don't-listen a lot; just because the world is loud and you're distracted. you don't mean anything by it. and the truth is that the man who spoke is relying on that to be true of you; the way it's true of everyone. but there is a different undertone to his kind of not-listening. what he means is they don't respect you and you shouldn't expect them to. there is a difference between oh shit i forgot to take the trash out and why didn't you remind me to do it, just like there is a difference between i didn't realize you wanted to go out this weekend and why do you expect me to plan things why can't you just tell me where we're going.

and the thing is that it isn't just him, and it's actually not just because of your gender - your skin, your class status, your weight, their ableism - it happens often. so often it feels like a tightness around your throat and a weight in your stomach. you're not even "really" allowed to be upset about it, because to them it's a joke. and they laugh. and you know exactly the amount of work that goes into every conversation. how you have to work to condense down your thoughts into intelligent, crisp soundbites; worried someone will try to swoop in and cut you off. and there's this sense from everyone else - oh stop being so sensitive, are you really upset just because they weren't listening and you don't know how to say the way that feels when it happens constantly.

there's that video of the science summit where a woman in the audience finally says let her speak please! and the whole crowd bursts into applause and the man leading the summit holds up his hands and bows his head and says oops, sorry! like what he did was awkward and embarrassing, a little social gaffe that happens easily. later in your meetings, you're asked to take notes, and you don't say anything, you just hear let her speak please! ringing in your head and know that you'll never be brave enough for that kind of thing. and besides. think of all the people who agree this was a one-off, he just got excited and all of the people who say one man is not indicative of all of society

at the dinner table you're talking about someone you don't like and how he's not good to his girlfriend and how she always has to remind him to put the effort in and before him, she was glowing with curiosity and passion but now she just seems... tired, unhappy. that he likes the way she burns out; she stays home and takes care of him and their 2 kids. and your father sniffs and says that men take a while to learn those kinds of things. and you just stare at him and think about your childhood and are like - no wonder i turned out like this

and you want to say - there's no fucking secret school or mystic form of communication. i was not sent to Rearing a Child University. i did not graduate from Getting Chores Done College. i ask questions and i listen and i pay attention, because that's basic fucking human decency. it stems from respect, and how i respect others and their agency. i clean the house because someone should clean. not because it comes "naturally".

hell, you had to google "how to boil an egg" the other day, just because you usually make them scrambled. you can never remember which of the 2 bathroom cleaners make chlorine gas, only that two of them definitely do. you've accidentally bleached your clothes. it took you like 3 years of self-teaching before you figured out how to actually cook things correctly - for that whole time, you burnt or undercooked everything. but you did teach yourself; just like you taught yourself how to listen with empathy. just like how you taught yourself to think before you speak. to be kind first, to be better at communicating. it seemed like a good thing, an adult thing.

the joke the man in the video makes is that women say i'm fine! when they are not fine. and you think about the 150 conversations that happened around that; about how she probably has had so many arguments with her husband. how she said i'm upset you don't take me anywhere and he got mad at her because of course i do, you made me go to that stupid restaurant like last week and she probably said that's not what i'm saying and he said now i'm supposed to be psychic or something and she said no of course not and he said how am i supposed to know what to do when you don't even like everything and she said i do like things and he said well how am i supposed to win? and her pastor probably told her to be more grateful because they do things at all, even if she has to plan them and her mom probably told her that's just how men are honey and she probably cried over her journal, trying to figure out why the fuck she "has everything" and is still so bitterly, horribly unhappy

and how, in your life, for so many reasons, you looked down the barrel of another argument; of explaining yourself and being vulnerable and begging for help again. how many times you just said i'm fine because it was better than doing that again; it was better than wringing yourself out when it's literally easier to just pretend. because he wasn't going to listen. your father wasn't going to be better and your boyfriend wasn't going to be better and your boss wasn't going to be more respectful.

and you sit in front of a video of a woman shaking, looking horrible and guilt-wrought that she's even asking this question. and you know; deep in your heart - that's you. in a different life, you are her. you've stood in her spot. and you had to listen while someone else cackled - why would we bother to notice when you talk?

[fcthots]

Can I request 27. "I'm going to carry you, okay?" with an angsty dash of 5. "You don't have anything to be sorry for." please?

You shouldn't have been out.

You should have never left your apartment, especially not in the middle of the night, especially when Jason didn't know you left, but you just wanted to go on a short walk, but one wrong turn turned your short walk into a very long one.

You could hear a few things: the beating of your heart, the sound of your feet hitting the ground as you ran, the sound of their feet running after you, shouting from behind you.

"Get your ass back here or I swear to God, we're gonna fucking kill you!"

Fuck. You just had to go on a walk to clear your head. You just had to get lost. You just had to forget your phone. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were running so hard you could barely breathe. You were faster than them, but not by much, and you couldn't keep it up. You were terrified, shaking, slightly crying. You tried screaming, but no one came. You were lost, alone, scared, and being chased. You wished more than anything that you never left your apartment. You wished you just called Jason to calm down, but you didn’t want to bother him. Regret. Regret. Regret.

You've basically run in one big circle, trying to get anywhere near your apartment, but you were so lost. That street sign, though was familiar, but more than that you had passed it before; something else.

Oh.

Oh no.

You knew the name on that street sign because Jason was telling you about it earlier

...in reference to a trafficking case.

Your heart sank. Their footfalls match the erratic beating of your heart. You were tired. You couldn't keep this up forever and they knew the territory. It seemed you were at every disadvantage.

You turned a corner. You had this one chance to lose them. You use all of your remaining energy to run into the gap between the closed down corner store and apartment complex,

and promptly trip on the uneven concrete. Yeah, you pulled something.

And with your absolutely stellar luck, you picked the one alley that was a dead end.

"Fucking finally. Nowhere to run now. I think we should take our time with this one. She made us waste all that time chasing her, what's a little more?"

You open your mouth to beg for your life, but the words won't come out. You try to get up but you collapse again. You use your good leg to move yourself against the wall.

The three men laugh as they slowly approach you, taunting you. They smile and joke at the tears you didn’t notice were falling. You try to think of any possible escape route, but come up empty. One pulls out a gun and you try not to look at it.

"You really thought you could just run away, huh?"

"You can scream as loud as you want. No one is coming."

The third man laughs. "Don't say that. The screaming is fucking annoying."

They get closer to you and you feel the sweat trickle from your hairline.

Everyone's heads turn when there's a loud thud outside the alley.

You aren't exactly focused on it, but it makes them temporarily stop, so you're thankful for it.

"Marcus, go check it out."

"Fuck you. Why do I have to it?"

"Be louder, why don’t you? Quit being a bitch and go."

'Marcus' leaves with a string of curses. The attention is turned back to you again, with impatient smiles and twisted laughter, but not for long.

They make it about two more steps before Marcus yells and there's a crunch and thud.

The two men stop dead in their tracks. Communicating as if with eye contact, one nods, and the other begins to walk slowly along the wall of the alley with his gun raised until he turns the corner. While the first man tries to split his attention between you and his friend, his friend screams.

The last man turns towards you. He rushes forward in an attempt to grab your arm, presumably to drag you, but he never gets that chance.

There is a loud thunk to the back of the man's head before he's on the floor. You look up and see a red helmet.

You don’t think you've ever been happier to see that shiny red.

"Hey, it's ok. It's just me. I wasn't gonna let anything happen to you, I promise. You're safe now."

You try to say his name as he rushes over to you but it comes out as more of a pathetic and terrified whimper.

"Are you hurt?"

You nod your head and watch him freeze.

"Where?"

You drag your leg out from underneath you. He sighs in relief. His shoulders hunch forward, his forehead knocking against yours. He lands a helmet kiss there.

"C'mon. Let's get you home. I'm going to carry you, okay?"

Before you could even think about attempting to reply, he has you scooped up in his arms. He takes a deep breath in and out and locks eyes with you.

"You ok?"

"no fatal injuries"

He hums in acknowledgement. The walk is quiet. Too quiet. You don’t remember most of the walk. The adrenaline wearing off was making you tired, but Jason's silence concerned you. You shouldn't have gone out alone, it was dumb, but you couldn't handle a fight with Jason right now. That's probably why he was being quiet, he mad at you, but knows you don’t wanna fight. He was being so sweet, but to be honest all you wanted was comfort. You can't take him being distant right now.

Fuck it. You can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry."

He stops on the outside of you apartment complex's elevator, moving two look at you.

You open your mouth to speak again but he cuts you off. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Aren't you mad?"

"I could never be mad at you."

"But you're being all silent."

"I thought you'd want space. Do you not?"

"...no... I want comfort..."

"Alright. And I'm not mad at you. Never mad at you. That wasn't your fault, ok? I was brooding just now because I was scared at the thought of losing you. I love you. So much."

"I love you too."

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 20 || The Night of Regrets

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, alcohol consumption, angst, smut, & fluff. (!!Brief drunk sex warning!!)

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AND OH HOW YOU HATE being alone like this. Especially because it wasn't just a one-day thing.

No, instead, Choso distances himself from you.

It hurts like hell too. His messages get drier, and he has an excuse for every time you try to hang out with him, and your calls go unanswered.

What a sweet form of torture it is to have your crush give you the same treatment you give your blackmailer. At some point, you think you wallow yourself in a self-isolating pit of pity.

Shoko thinks she hears less from you more than ever, Gojo still receives the same treatment as always, Geto tries to comfort you every now and then but it's no use, and Choso continues to set boundaries for you and him.

It gets pretty rough for you mentally after that.

How are you supposed to deal with being stripped of the company of the one man who sought to bring you joy? There were some nights you cried about it and some nights you took out that stupid journal with that stupid list and scribbled out every name there-- only to rewrite it back afterward.

Reluctantly, you ended up telling Gojo that you managed to sleep with Choso, to which he was quick to send you money. Getting paid was nice and all but the money felt meaningless when you no longer had Choso by your side.

What's another six thousand dollars when the guy you like won't even read your texts anymore?

The panging you get in your chest every time you think about it all is dizzying. After all, no matter how you think about it, none of it is your fault.

Sure, you could've had your bedroom door closed that day Gojo walked in but... would such a small change have made any difference to your situation? The man could've still recorded you. Hell, knowing him, he probably would've.

You hate him so much.

You wish you knew how to express just how deep your hate for him goes but it's difficult to do so as he tries to make up for his wrongdoings.

Every notification from Gojo never fails to piss you off but it gets one hundred percent worse when you no longer have Choso around. Not being able to get with the man you like is obviously Gojo's fault so anything from that man reminds you of the situation and you get upset all over again.

This leads to one night full of mistakes, regrets, and... surprises.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

What started your unfortunate night was a final text from Choso that consisted of him explaining that it's hard to talk to you because of how he feels about you.

It was a long paragraph that explained how every time he talks to you, he wants to express his feelings more and more, which ultimately makes it difficult for him to communicate with you because it hurts to know that he's not yours and you're not his. Very explicitly, Choso basically says he doesn't want you to text him anymore.

He wasn't rude about it or anything; even making sure to carefully request such a thing in kind consideration of your feelings. Though, that didn't change how much it hurt.

Choso was your way out, your slim form of freedom. And yet, you lost it.

Where does this lead you? To a bar.

Was heading there the best decision in the world? Probably not. Did you care? Not one bit.

You needed something to relieve your stress, something to take this weight off your shoulders, even if only for one night. So there you sat, swallowing down drink after drink after drink in hopes of washing away all the pain you felt.

Does the sting of liquor down your throat and warmth over your body help you feel any better? For a moment, yes.

It was like all the voices in your head stopped screaming for just a second. No longer were you cursing yourself out for every mistake you've made leading up to now and no longer did you think of all the terrible things happening to you right now.

Instead, you felt just a slither of peace again. The sounds of laughter and soft clicks filled your ears as you calmed your brain, sinking into a tipsy state.

After swishing down your nth drink of the night, you found yourself feeling incredibly good. Almost too good, honestly. Not only was your body warm and your mind at ease but, there was this annoying pulse spurring in between your legs.

The only downfall of you drinking your sorrows away was that you happen to be one of the most unfortunate forms of drunk. Not any angry drunk, silly drunk, or sad drunk but, a horny one. And terribly at that.

The feeling is frustrating actually. It'd been a while since you last went out for a drink and you almost forgot how ridiculously horny you get after some time. The throbbing you feel is so very annoying, especially when all you can do is mentally replay events with Choso.

The man has actually made you squirt more than once. And every time it was because he was giving you head. You recall riding his face once, as per his begging request, and at this moment all you can remember was the way he looked at you and that damn tongue of his lapping at your cunt.

Just thinking about it again makes you dizzy, your stomach churning as you remember it all. His deep guttural groans and pretty whines still echo throughout your mind.

Then there's the way he fucked you-- the feeling of his cock hitting all the right places inside you, making you cry out his name for hours on end, and his praising words... it all haunts your mind.

Shit, now you're really horny. You wish you could call him. If he wasn't upset with you, you'd definitely call him right about now. You're so worked up that you could probably get off on just the sound of his voice right now.

A sigh leaves your lips as you realize you can't even call him. God, you miss him so much and it hasn't even been that long since the last time you saw him.

With a frown on your face, you move to rest your cheek against your knuckles, holding your head up with your hand.

"Y'know, the last thing I expected to find today was a wonderful piece of ass sitting at this bar with a frown on her face," A sudden voice to your left points out.

You physically revolt against the man's words to you. You don't even spare the male a glance in response to his comment, acting as though you didn't hear him.

A sudden god awfully strong collonge seeps into your nose, the smell clearly expensive but unpleasant nonetheless. Then, in your peripherals, you notice this male leaning toward you.

"Oi, I know you heard me." He pesters.

With a groan, you cut your eyes over to him, eyelids rising at the sight. Just your fucking luck, you managed to run into Naoya at the bar and he's absolutely disgusting. Well, at least every time he opens his mouth.

His face on the other hand makes up for it, to some extent. Your gaze is met with sharp brown irises from the male who just spoke.

Your upper lip twitches as you scrunch your face up at him, disgusted by his words to you. "I wasn't aware you were speaking to me." You hum plainly, glancing away from him.

He scoffs, "I cannot stand women who lie."

"That's wonderful but, I don't remember asking." You comment, your tone cold.

The arrogant man tuts, "And she's rude too? Hah, juuust my luck."

Slowly, you force yourself to turn your head to him, your gaze void of emotion. "If all you came over here to do is foolishly run your mouth, I suggest you fuck off because I'm not in the mood." You say to him.

The corner of his lips pulls into a smirk. Damn the way it resembles Toji most weirdly. "What are you in the mood for then, dollface?" Naoya questions.

Ugh, you cringe at his question. He's so very lucky that you have a list to complete because that's the only reason you're tolerating him right now.

"Truthfully? Mindless sex." You blurt out. It's very obvious that you're drunk by this point because the sober version of you would've never uttered such a thing, especially not to this asshole.

A haughty grin spreads across his visibly handsome features and dyed blonde hair with deep dark green roots sways whilst he tilts his head. "Well, then you're in luck. I happen to be an expert at that." Naoya tells you with a wink.

God, you hate everything about his personality already.

"Is that so?" You ask dryly.

"Yeah," He responds, clicking his tongue, "Maybe if you're good enough I'll show you."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead, you slide out of the barstool you sat at and-- oh. He's taller than you expected him to be. Even so, you blink away the realization and simply sigh at his words.

"If I'm good enough? Please." You reply, "How about this, since I'm not in the mood to argue with you and make you feel small, I'll give you two options."

His brows push together, "Make me feel small? Excuse me-"

"You can either fuck me or fuck off." You interrupt coldly. Beneath your drunken state, you wish he'd fuck off and magically disappear from the list but unfortunately, that's not going to happen.

Naoya stammers for a moment in reaction to your straightforward words. After a second of collecting himself, he shrugs, "Well..." He chuckles, "How can I say no when you give yourself up to me so easily?"

Another sigh leaves you, "Right..." You say, finally allowing your eyes to roll before you grab a rough hold of his shirt and begin to drag him away from the bar.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The whole thing is a mess.

For your first time having drunk sex in the bathroom at a bar like the true whore you've unwillingly become, it wasn't completely terrible.

Naoya may have a disgustingly offputting way with words but, he's not that bad as fucking you against the wall. Your chest and face are pressed into the cold bathroom wall as the man sloppily rutted into you from behind.

This was most definitely your lowest moment yet. The sex was so... vanilla. Naoya lacked foreplay in every way possible that you're pretty sure he doesn't even know what it is. Half of your moans were fake because there were only a few times when you felt the tip of his cock kiss that sweet spot inside you.

His thrusts were too fast and not in a pleasurable way but in a way that made you want to scoff. Naoya was pale in comparison to the past men you've been with. The only thing saving him was the size of his dick and the fact that you were already horny.

If not for those two factors, this whole thing would've been terrible. He tried dirty talk but it all went through one ear and out the other due to how terrible it was. To make up for that, you can't deny the fact that his grunts and groans turned you on.

"Aagh, fuck." Naoya would groan, his voice near your ear and causing your cunt to flutter around him.

There wasn't much else that he did that fueled your arousal though. You were mainly getting off on the sounds of sex and the few times he thrust into you at the proper angle. That aside, to even come close to an orgasm, you had to imagine you were with someone else.

It's sad but, at least the man's name would be checked off the list after this.

A single orgasm was building up within you the very second you imagined it was Choso with you. You could practically hear the way he'd moan into your ear, begging you to cum around his cock and make a mess of him.

The thought alone made your eyes roll back and you were so close. Then, to the least of your expectations, Naoya selfishly pulled out of you, leaving you high and dry.

Your brows furrowed quickly as you panted against the wall. With a loud grunt that fills the bathroom, Naoya cums embarrassingly onto the floor. You have to bat your eyelashes as you gather what the hell this man just did.

Surely he's not done... right?

To your disappointment, he is. The sound of Naoya fixing himself with not even a word uttered to you can be heard, his hands working his member back into his pants before he moves to wash his hands.

You blink in slow motion, pushing yourself off the wall and standing on legs that are also trying to process what just happened. You'd just been denied an orgasm completely.

You scoff, "Is this a joke...?"

Naoya raises his brows, "Is what a joke? You've fulfilled your purpose, you can go now." He dismisses.

And that does it for you. Annoyed, you move to hike your underwear back up your legs and then tug your dress down into place, feeling absolutely disgusted with what just occurred.

"You..." Another scoff exits your mouth, "You asshole..."

The man chuckles at your claim before heading toward the bathroom door, "I've heard worse." He hums, winking at you, "And hey, for what it's worth, you have good pussy." He... compliments?

You send the man a dumbfounded look. Is he for real right now? Like, is he so fucking for real right now??

"You could probably make lots of money off it, honestly," Naoya comments one last time before opening the door and leaving.

Your skin is crawling with an overwhelming feeling of disgust. Never in your life have you felt so utterly used. This feeling is worse than what Gojo's put you through. You're ashamed you even let that dickhead of a man put his dick inside you.

You shudder at what you just did, a permanent scowl stuck to your face. This is worse than when you thought Choso left you. Hell, you'd prefer that a million times over what that misogynistic fuckface just said and did to you.

After gathering yourself and making sure you don't look like a complete mess, you are about to leave the bathroom when the nasty mess he left on the floor catches your eye. Even drunk, you didn't have it in you to leave such indecency on the floor.

So, you were quick to grab paper towels and clean it up, saving the janitor who'd later have to come in there from doing so.

After that, you toss the paper towel into the trash and stumble out of the bathroom. With everything you just experienced, another round of drinks is screaming your name. There's absolutely no way you're going to allow yourself to sober up after that.

So, you make your way back over to the bar and return to your previous activities, now feeling so unsatisfied and unhappy with everything.

Every drink you swallow down merely provides you with a temporary moment of satisfaction. The second you feel that the excessive drinking isn't working, you feel sad all over again, just like how you did when you first entered the bar.

You wanted to cry and scream at the same time. Your head was spinning and your vision began to blur a little, terrible feelings bubbling up inside you as your regret washed over you faster than the alcohol washed down your throat.

When your eyes grew teary, you were quick to scramble for your phone. If not anything else, the one thing you could use right now is either a good fuck that'd make you stop thinking or, someone who can give you genuine advice so that you don't feel so shitty anymore.

And who can provide either of those things for you? Well, none other than Geto Suguru himself.

Your thumb swiped through your recent calls, hazily spotting his contact and calling him. The phone rings for barely even a second, the call connecting as soon as you lift the device to your ear.

"Hello?" The man's voice rings through your ears, making you smile ever so slightly.

You swallow, "Hi Sugu..." Your words are so obviously slurred to anyone listening.

There's a second of silence before he responds, "Hey, you alright?"

"N-No..." You hum, "Can you uhm... C-Come pick me up?" You suddenly whisper drunkenly.

You hear a sigh then some shuffling, "Where are you?" He asks.

You giggle, "The bar."

There's another pause. Then, you hear him sigh again, "What bar, sweetheart?"

"I'll send you the uhm... the uh..." Your brain suddenly freezes as you search for your words.

He makes up for you, "Address...?"

"Yeah, yes. That." You say quickly.

A slight chuckle is heard over the phone, "Alright, send me the address, sweets. I'll be there soon."

"M'kayy," You hum as you move to send him the address.

You end up simply sending your location but you were too drunk to see the difference, not that it mattered. As the message is sent, an amused chuckle is heard over the phone.

You furrow your brows, bringing the cell back to your ear, "What's so funny?"

"What're you doin' all the way across town, love?" He asks in return, finding it humorous.

You pout, "I dunno, can't remember why I came all the way-," You burp slightly, "Out here."

You can't see it but the male shakes his head, "I see. Are you drunk?" He asks, tone concerned.

You smile, "Mayyybe."

"Maybe? Yes or no, sweetheart."

"Yeah, kinda." You sigh.

He hums and you can hear soft car noises in the background, "And I assume you're alone...?"

"Mhm."

"Why?"

"Didn't wanna bother Shoko with my..." You sigh heavily, "My problems."

"Did something happen?" The man questions, "Why would you go out drinking alone?"

"I dunno Sugu, I just need to drink away my problems, y'know?"

"You could've done that with..." He trails off for a second before finishing, "With me."

You yawn, "Yeah, I could've..." Your words come out lower and the man over the phone can tell you're growing drowsy.

"Are you fallin' asleep on me over there?" He asks, chuckling slightly but clearly nervously.

You move to lay your head down on the bar, just barely holding your hold up against your ear, "Mhm."

The sound of him sighing is heard, "Need you to stay awake for me, sweetheart."

"Sugu..." You mumble tiredly, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

There's a sudden silence over the phone.

A throb pains your head and you wince at the abrupt feeling. "S-Suguru?" You call out, your voice revealing your pained state.

"Y-Yeah?" He responds.

"You didn't answer my question..."

"I know." He states, "Are you okay over there? You sound hurt? What's wrong? Talk to me please." The male rambles, clearly panicked by the sound of your voice.

The most he knows is that you're at some bar alone and drunk so to hear you in pain has his heart worried in more ways than one.

You struggle to respond to him as you steadily slip from consciousness.

"Fuck, c'mon, don't fall asleep on me." He urges, his voice anxious.

"M-Mhm..." You mumble.

"Sweetheart, listen to the sound of my voice okay? I can't have you pass out before I get there."

You groan a little, "...Okay."

He smiles at your reply, "Keep yourself awake by talking to me, tell me about your day."

"M-My day?" You frown, "It was shitty..."

"S'that why you went out for a drink? You had a bad day?" The way his voice has gone all soft makes your heart throb for some reason.

Your eyes get teary all of a sudden, "Y-Yeah."

"Tell me what happened." He requests, "You can do that, right?"

"Uhuh..." You agree.

"Good girl," The male praises, his words giving you encouragement. "C'mon, tell me what happened."

"Well..." You steadily begin to explain the events of your day.

From how normal it was to how Choso's single text ruined your mood and then to the terrible sex you just had, you explain everything over the phone with a slur to your words every now and then. Your explanation comes out slowly since you're fighting sleep but you get through it.

"Then I..." You exhale softly, "Then I called you."

"I see." He hums, "Well, I'm right around the corner so keep your eyes open til' I get there."

"No promises." You say with a chuckle.

"Not funny, sweets. I need you awake." He replies sternly.

You groan, "Whyyy do you keep calling me thaaaat?" You whine.

Again, there's no response to your question.

"I'm gonna hang up on you, Suguru." The chances of you doing so are unlikely but you are seconds away from falling asleep.

"You better not." He says.

"Then tell me why..." Your voice fades out as your eyes shut comfortably. Mentally, you got your question out but realistically, your sentence trailed off.

Distorted sounds of your name being called are heard in your ear but second after second, the sounds fade away and blissful white noise engulfs you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Your sleeping frame is spotted by the man you called as soon as he enters the bar minutes later, his heart rate all over the place. Quick and long strides are made to approach your resting body and hands fly to your face, lifting your head from the cold and dirty bar to get a good look at you.

Even through your sleep, you're pretty sure you hear a familiar voice whisper to you, "What am I gonna do with you?"

Those same hands move from your face and to under your legs and behind your back. Your limp body is lifted from your seat bridal-style and your head relaxes against a lean chest.

The slap of brisk fresh air causes you to stir awake for only a moment. Your eyes flutter open and the smell of cologne is in your nose, the scent almost... nostalgic? It quickly makes you think of Gojo for some strange reason.

"Suguru?" You croak out.

The male holding you is quick to look down at you, his eyes filled with worry. "Sweetheart, you gave me quite a scare," He says softly, his voice making your brows furrow. "Are you okay?"

You groan and rub your temples, feeling the remnants of a pounding headache. "Not... really," You admit, your voice still slurred from the alcohol. "And why do you..."

You end up trailing off as you shift your gaze upwards to the face of the person holding you right now. The question gets stuck in your throat while you eye the man's face.

Soft blue eyes are peering lowly at your drunken expression, a firm pair of slender hands carrying you as if you weigh nothing, ruffled white hair bright enough to blind someone and a face that's all too angelic for the hate you hold for it.

After a gulp, you bat your eyelashes and squint, wondering if you're seeing things. "Gojo?" You whisper softly.

A beautifully broken smile is given to you along with the sound of a shaky yet relieved sigh, "Yeah?"

You pout, "Why are you here...?"

"Well, love," His voice is gentle, "When you call..." He leans just a little bit closer to you, "...I come running."

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[cupid-styles]

wait if hockey harry spots yn at his game and is reallyyyy cocky coming up to her! but she’s actually there for another guy on the OTHER team bc he asked her out on a date (which is after the game) and harry becomes sooo jealous and basically tries to rough that guy up during the game so he doesn’t take yn on the date 🤭🤭🤭

I am simply OBSESSED!!!!!! I may also have to do a part two for this lmao

based on this blurb about hockey!harry and ballerina!y/n

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: violence, harry being a mega douche, jealousy

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Harry's bored.

Usually, at hockey games, he's rarely ever bored. He's been playing the sport since he was three and learned to ice skate just as he started walking. Hockey is his entire life — and yet, Coach Brock took him out to let one of the newbies get some time on the ice, so now he's sitting on the bench like a petulant child, arms crossed over his chest with a frown.

"Lighten up, Styles," Coach Brock had scolded him when he saw the immature pout covering his star player's face.

So now he's waiting, half paying attention to the game in front of him. He'd played hard enough for the first period that he blocked nearly every shot the opposing team tried to make. He didn't care much to see how the freshman kid was playing — he didn't even care to learn his name, really — instead scoping out the crowded stands at the evening's game. It was filled with students and fans of the university, the energy so lively that it was almost enough to send Harry into another adrenaline rush.

Only, when he sees Y/N up in the seats, talking to a girl he's seen her walk around campus with, his heart feels like it skips a beat.

He'll never admit it to anyone (especially not her), but he's fascinated by her. He thinks she's pretty and talented, strong and funny. But Harry lacks emotional communication skills, so instead of attempting to woo her, every comment that comes out of his mouth is an insult. That's why his throat instantly gets dry the second his eyes zero in on her. It's the first time he's seen her out of her usual ballet garb, instead opting for a loose sweater. Her hair, which is always in a neat bun, is down. And she just looks so pretty.

The loud halftime buzzer sounds out, ripping Harry from his daydreams. He can't help but wonder if she could maybe, just maybe, be there to see him. The thought is enough to send butterflies rifling through his stomach. He attempts to ignore them, though, putting on his usual dull facial expression as his teammates get up to go to the locker room.

He scrambles, realizing he's getting left in the dust all because he was fantasizing about Y/N. Embarrassed, he stands from the bench, trying to quickly catch up.

Except, when he's passing the away team's locker room, he sees her in his peripheral vision, walking down the lengthy hallway with a giddy look on her face. He knows Coach Brock will have his ass if he's late, but he can't help it. He really, seriously can't help it.

"Come to see me, Cinderella?" Harry asks cockily, a smirk at the edge of his lips. Her eyebrows immediately furrow and her lips part.

"No," she says slowly, cocking her head to the side, "I'm actually here for Malcolm."

Harry squints his eyes, mentally running through the entire team. There wasn't a single person named Malcolm.

"Did you just make that up to fuck with me?" he questions, feeling irritated by her teasing.

Y/N snorts, a smug grin appearing on her face. "No, actually. Malcolm plays for the other team."

His hands immediately ball up into fists at his side, anger beginning to pulse through his chest. He wants to fire a million questions at her — most importantly, why? — when Coach Brock sticks his head out into the hall.

"Styles! Stop trying to get your dick wet and get in here!"

His face warms, his jaw clenched as he turns on his heel to enter the locker room.

On his way in, he hears Y/N's voice bounce through the interior.

"Oh, don't you worry, Coach! He doesn't stand a chance!"

. . .

Approximately two seconds after halftime ends, Harry finds Malcom's jersey number, his eyes glued in on the player on the opposing team as he skated around, missing shots left and right. He was a shit player — why the hell would Y/N be interested in him?

As a punishment for being late to the halftime meeting, Coach kept Harry out for the first five minutes of the third period. When he realized the newbie was letting the game get away from them, they both knew he had no choice but to allow him back in.

So now Harry's attempting to take out his anger on every shot that's catapulted in his direction, expertly blocking the puck time and time again. His heart is thrumming steadily in his chest, he's sweating beneath his gear, but he's zeroed in — not just on the game, but on Malcolm, too.

Harry's waiting. Desperately so. All but begging him to do something so he has an excuse to launch his stupid body through the rink, landing punches to his face so he never has a chance with Y/N ever again.

With seven minutes left of the game, Harry's team is already up by 10. There's no way they're losing this one, especially with the way he's playing. But that's not the goal here.

Malcolm attempts to shoot another shot into their net, which Harry blocks easily, using his stick to send it skidding down the length of the ice. He can tell he's feeling defeated by the way his shoulders deflate slightly, and it makes Harry laugh behind his mask.

And apparently, that's what does it.

Just as he was about to skate away, Malcolm turns to look back at Harry, despite the game continuing on the other side of the rink.

"Something funny?" Malcolm asks, skating closer to his goal.

"Fuck off," Harry spits, slamming his stick down against the ice. "Think you have a game to lose, asshole."

"Is there a problem?" he snaps, inching closer to Harry. He cackles, letting his hockey stick smack down again.

"You're my fuckin' problem." Harry replies. "Get any closer to my goal and I'll kill you."

Malcolm lets out an amused snort, dropping his stick. It's only a moment before he extends his arms in front of him, pushing Harry harshly. Bingo.

He allows him to think he has the upper hand before he lets his own stick to fall, snapping his hand back and allowing it to collide directly with his jaw. A shocked sound falls from Malcolm's lips as he attempts to keep up with Harry's punches, but he falls back against the ice before he's able to get a single shot in. His vision is entirely red as he lands one final blow, feeling two pairs of arms pull him off. He hears loud, high-pitched noises from the refs' whistles, but all Harry can focus on is wanting to see the damage he's caused.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Coach Brock hisses into his ear. He realizes he's one of the people that stopped him, his hand locked roughly around his wrist as he guides him off the ice. The other hand belongs to the team captain, Dom.

"He was talking shit," Harry mutters, ripping his arm away from Dom's grasp. He reaches up to tear his helmet and face guard off, throwing them on the ground as Coach pulls him to the locker room.

"I don't give a fuck," he sneers, pushing him down onto the bench. The adrenaline is still pumping through his system, making it seem as though he can feel every single cell thrumming in his body. "You're so fucking suspended it's not even funny, Styles."

Harry grumbles as Coach Brock leaves the locker room, slamming the door in his wake. Wordlessly, Dom follows him. He knows they have a giant mess to clean up because of his actions tonight — both literally and figuratively.

Somehow, it doesn’t matter to him, though — not as long as Y/N doesn’t think he’s an animal now.

[gogotti]

Michael Myers/GN! Reader - NSFW

Here we go again with another Michael fic, this time it’s Kinktober and not just me horny posting on main LMFAO

This fic's prompt was Humping

WARNINGS: Michael humps you so nsfw, Michael pins the reader down but reader is into it. This is the tamest thing I’ve written in months so there’s not much else I can add warning wise.

It wasn't often that the massive man who occupied your home needed something from you other than basic necessities, but it was a nightmare trying to figure out when he did. Michael didn't talk and didn't bother trying other ways of communication, so he was basically a brick wall that moved around and routinely demanded food from you. Most days, when he'd decided that he wanted to be difficult, you'd struggle endlessly trying to figure out what he wanted, but this time you tried something different. Your plan was to give him a list of all of the things you could offer him at the moment, and then get him what he needed, simple enough. You went through the entire list, even adding things onto the list that you didn't even want to do, just to not get any response from him. After the second attempt, you didn't even bother anymore, instead staring at him in silence. He still didn't acknowledge you at all, not even by tossing an unopened piece of candy in your face like he normally would have. To say you were confused was an understatement, and you couldn't help but let fear crawl up your spine.

You didn't think he was sad or anything since he wouldn't be sitting on your couch clean if that were the case, and if he were hungry he would have already picked you up from your spot at the other end of the couch and placed you in front of the fridge. You slowly scooched over to him, keeping a safe distance just in case he was in one of his choking moods.

“Michael? You okay?”

Obviously, he didn't respond, and a part of you wanted to go back to your comfy spot and relax again, but you knew whatever his problem was would become a you problem if left alone. You reached out to touch his shoulder and Michael quickly took the opportunity to grab at your wrist and use his strength to twist you around and lay you flat on your stomach. You could only sigh uncomfortably, letting him adjust you to his liking before resting his body weight on you. You couldn’t stop him, you could only let your eyes widen slightly as you felt the source of his problems rest on your ass.

“oh.”

He huffed at you, grabbing your waist and seemingly feeling things out for a while. He didn't make much noise as he did this and only seemed to get impatient since he couldn't properly help himself. You sat in silence for a moment, contemplating whether or not to help him or let his frustration get the better of him, which would most likely end up with someone's dead relative on the news the next moring. You sighed again, you were not going to let innocent people die all because the infamous Michael Myers couldn’t figure out how to hump you properly. 

You arched your back, trying to angle yourself into a good position to make things easier for him. You succeeded in this, as the next time Michael grinded against you he let out the shakiest of sighs. You couldn't help but feel accomplished as he quickly found a rhythm; you also couldn't help the fact that with every low groan Michael let out above you, you felt a shock of pleasure hit you where it counts.  

He suddenly repositioned, now using one hand to grab onto your hip tightly and the other was placed above your head for stability. He picked up the pace as he humped you, the change in stance now giving him the friction he needed, and you could hear how much he enjoyed it. Low groans, grunts, and occasional growls left his mouth and left you a silent mess. You didn't know he would be so noisy but you couldn't care less, as every sound that spilled from his mouth you happily relished in, letting your mind wander to places you wouldn't have dared think about before this moment. 

You felt his humping become sloppy, and listened to his groans turn into huffs as he got closer to cumming.  Suddenly, he came crashing down on top of you, his arms now positioned above your head and his body completely engulfing yours, still humping you desperately as he almost silently whimpered at the feeling.

Once he stopped moving, he breathed heavily above you, and you relaxed your body, muscles slightly sore from holding the position for so long. The peace only lasted a short moment before Michael got up, not caring about you resting underneath him. You could only peek at him as he walked to the bathroom, catching a quick glimpse of the dark spot on the sweatpants he was wearing. 

You sat up slowly, the only things on your mind at the moment were mentally reviewing everything that happened for fuel on lonesome nights, and the creeping suspicion that this might become a regular occurrence. Either way, the result of either thought didn't bother you. In fact, the thought of the big bad Michael Myers humping you as if his life depended on it was something you quietly hoped for.

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Today on popping the corn and feeding the children, what do you folks think of this discussion? :)

I'm always curious to hear what other Trek fans, especially queer Trek fans, think about our place in Trek history and how we fare as the queer participants within our fandom. What have your experiences been like?

Overwhelmingly I've found a great reception and a welcoming attitude, but I admit that has increased considerably since the 90s. However, there are still some Trek fans who seem to be vehemently in denial about queer history in Star Trek, or the fact that anyone who has worked on Trek has pro-LGBT attitudes. This always surprises me considering some of the blatant queer content we have already seen in Star Trek such as the Jadzia Dax and Lenara Kahn kiss.

Anyway, I enjoyed the discussion that followed and seeing the overwhelming outpouring of support coming from Star Trek fans in response to this thread.

Here was my two cents contribution:

"No, what they said was factual.

Have you forgotten Nichelle Nichols was indeed an African American woman in the core seven bridge crew back in 1966?

Or the fact that Gene Roddenberry went out of his way to write The Motion Picture Novel, creating the term "T'hy'la: friend, brother, lover" so that fans could choose which interpretations of Kirk and Spock they saw fit? He also embraced K/S fans and hired a number of them to write the earliest Star Trek novels, including the very first official one (The New Voyages Vol. 1 & 2) which included slash fiction as well as Gene's approval/forward in the books.

In case anyone has forgotten, here's a little bit of background on Gene Roddenberry and his perspectives on queerness in Star Trek.

He admitted that in his early life he was very affected by how society and culture treated the LGBT community, and that he too found himself subjugating and judging others for that lifestyle because it was what people did at that time. As he got older and had more life experience, he began working with a number of queer artists in Hollywood -- and through TOS, a number of queer individuals began asking questions about Kirk and Spock.

Instead of vehemently shutting down this perspective, Roddenberry was intrigued, and saw potential to tap into a large audience (LGBT) that most others didn't want to go near or acknowledge publicity-wise. He saw it as an opportunity to expand the fanbase while also pushing yet another envelope.

But with the heat already on the show for what they'd already pushed, he found he was often stuck between what he'd like to do and what production would let him get away with. There are a number of Kirk and Spock scenes in scripts that got cut out for leaning a little too obviously romantic. Tiny trickles of that content still made it in were infamous moments like the backrub scene in Shore Leave. Even the 2009 movie had a K/S moment while Spock Prime and Kelvin Spock talked that was written and filmed that was cut out of the final product.

Queer subtext and coding has always been relentlessly weeded away at with an excuse ready to go for why they always try to cut us out, but we all know it's because they are scared of the homophobic backlash and ratings hits. Look how violently homophobes went after the gay romance episode of The Last of Us **just this year**. This has always been our reality, so for someone like Roddenberry to make efforts in the 70s? That was massive.

But Gene as well as the queer/slash Trek community managed to accomplish some things in the 70s which I'm surprised more folks don't talk about or give much credit.

In the same TMP novel which features "T'hy'la" and the famous footnote, Gene cleverly wrote Kirk with a bisexual/pansexual lens: Kirk describes himself as *preferring* women but being open to "physical love in **any** of its many Earthly, alien, and mixed forms." (Direct quote from Genes book). Basically, Captain Kirk was DTF with whoever if there was a connection, which was a very progressive take for a character in a novel written in 1979, but made sense for the future which would have a lot less hang ups about sex and love compared to our current rather puritan/conservative society.

I also prefer women, but I married a man. Shout out to Gene Roddenberry for giving us a seat at the table back in the 70's when folks *still* try to insist there is no place for K/S or queer concepts in Trek, because he made efforts -- however small -- to employ queer people and show queer perspectives. According to David Gerrold, LGBT+ representation was a big thing that Gene personally pushed for in TNG and wanted various depictions of love/couples in the Risa scenes, to name one example.

In the 70s, fanzines led to meetings and swapped fanmade magazines, which got so big that they needed hotel centers, then convention centers, then one day the TOS cast came to one and what we know as modern fan conventions were born -- inspiring even George Lucas who attended Trek conventions in the 70s and saw how popular Trek was in syndication; it was a great climate to launch his Space Opera. Star Wars then became so huge that we got TMP.

But none of that would have happened without the level of organization, passion, and creativity that those fans poured into Star Trek and their characters after it got cancelled and went into syndication.

Without queer folks we wouldn't have George Takei, Theodore Sturgeon who gave us Tribbles, Bill Theiss and his amazing TOS costumes, Mike Minor's art direction, Merritt Butrick, David Gerrold (writer for TOS, TAS, TNG) to name a few of many queer contributors to Trek that Roddenberry respected and tried to go to bat for wherever he could in a climate that was absolutely impossible to gain an inch in.

At a time during the 70s and 80s when so many people resented and feared the queer community and wanted us to disappear, especially in the 80s during the AIDS epidemic which many homophobes claimed was "God's punishment to the gay community" or "Gods's answer" to our "hedonism", thinking we'd gotten our just desserts and should just disappear . . .

During that time, Gene Roddenberry gave us queer folks a place to say: "You know what? Sure. Write your stories. TV says you guys shouldn't exist, they pull books with queer people off the shelves and burn them. Laws exist specifically to forbid you guys from loving each other, and call you mentally ill. You can't even hold hands in public. But I'm going to validate you guys and invite you to write novels or work for me, try to see what we can get by production, and allow you to see yourselves in my characters if you want to. There's a place for you in our fandom."

He gave us bi/pan Kirk, he gave us K/S is open to interpretation. In Phase 2 Kirk's surviving nephew Peter, son of his brother Sam from Operation: Annihilate!, was going to be written as gay and living on the Enterprise with his partner -- that also got chopped and reworked into a script that wouldn't get used until decades later. That was huge at a time that being queer was officially listed as a mental illness, and villainized due to the AIDS crisis.

So before you try to dismiss or tell K/S + queer Trek fans whether or not they deserve a seat at the table, remember that Gene Roddenberry was among the **first** to pull that seat out for us in a climate that was ruthlessly against LGBT+ folks." -- 1Shirt2ShirtRedShirtDeadShirt

P.S: Have some cute bisexual/pansexual K/S pride gifs. :) Pride month is a hop, skip and a jump away.

LLAP!🖖💚

[lvvcian]

hello!! :D this is my first request ever so im sorry if i worded it or did it wrong. also english is not my first language so im sorry if this makes no sense.

i have a request for The disastrous life of saiki k with a romantic saiki x reader(gender neutral) pairing.

Heres my idea! so aiura and toritsuka start seeing some girl constantly following saiki during school and aiura and toritsuka are like “😨⁉️ lets help him get away from this stalker!” so aiura and toritsuka start doing dumb goofy stuff to sabotage the reader from following saiki and in the end it is revealed that saiki and the reader are dating so reader and saiki have been talking telepathically so it just LOOKS like the reader has been tailing saiki. so yea basically crack fic💀

maybe as a little bonus you could include some fluff between saiki and reader<3

────────────────────

☆ aaah the famous trio <3 also first Saiki fic, very happy about it c:

☆ I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG :'C it's 1:33am here, so I'm sorry if the ending is shitty , no energy fr but wanted to finish this today ":/

☆ (tw! slight bulling and not cool jokes ; swearing) ; gender neutral reader , fluff, crack fic ; Saiki has longer hair in here! Just a lil bit :)

☆ saiki talking normally ; saiki speaking in your mind ; your thoughts

☆ enjoy <3

"Do you think we should tell some people about... y'know" You looked up at Saiki. It was a normal sunday and you two were supposed to have a so called 'date' (which was sitting in comfortable silence at some cafe and enjoying each others company). But the weather had some other plans and once you stepped outside it started to rain. Of course Saiki could've change it in matter of seconds but he suggested to stay at home. They were too many people from his school on the mainstreet anyway.

"And draw attention to ourselves? Definitly not. We just have to keep the distance between us for school time ..." Saiki looked down at you. Who would've thought that Saiki out of all people would be the first to have a partner. "Enjoy while you can... I'll teleport you on the roof if you hug me at school..." you just giggled and snuggled up closer into his chest.

It couldn't be that bad... right?

──────────────────── ☆

Monday mornings weren't your favourite, at all. Shitty weather, cold shower and not so great breakfast. It was all making you fell even worse then you felt already.

It wasn't something natural for you to wake up in the middle of the night, but today your body felt extremely stressed. Something didn't let you sleep, your thoughts were going miles per hour and you could feel your whole body getting colder with every second (which was weird 'cause the temperature in the room was pretty high).

So you got up, rolled yourself in a blanket and went to close your window hoping it would get at least warmer, but as you walked up to it and started opening it...

"Holy shit..!" You backed away from the wall and fell on your back. There's was something standing right outside your window. It was horrible, like a ghost or a monster. It didn't matter at that time, you quickly run up to to window again and looked around your backyard.

There wasn't a single soul, just a stray cat walking around. You sat down on the floor and hold your face trying to calm yourself down.

After few minutes you were finally feeling better and decided to go back to sleep. At least try.

You were near PK Academy when you saw your lovely psychic and two other people. If you remember correctly one was a medium and the other... fortune teller?

"Its... Aiura and Toritsuka if I'm not mistaken. Should I say hi? Or just-"

"Don't do anything. They're already being very suspicious of you. Just walk past us as normal as you can. I'll meet with you at lunch." It wasn't something new for you to hear Saiki in your head. You didn't know why he was communicating like that, but you accepted it after a while.

"Sure, see you later then. I love you!" you saw Saiki close his eyes and shake his head a little, but you could see a faint smile forming on his lips

Giggling you walked past the trio with a small smile and went inside the building. Quickly you changed your shoes for school ones and headed to your classroom. You greeted some people on the way, saying 'hi' or just nodding at them.

Soon you saw Saiki entering the room too with Aiura. He looked at you, gave you a soft and quick smile and sat not far away from you.

──────────────────── ☆

Around 2pm lunch break started. Saiki immediatly left the classroom, avoiding his friends and went to your meeting spot, which was next to vending machines near the caffeteria.

As he got there, you were nowhere to be seen. He saw you packing your things and leaving right after him so he thought you would be there in few seconds.

Few seconds turned into few minutes and then into half of the break.

"Where are they... they couldn't forget about it, right?" Saiki checked his phone for second time, scrolling through your messages and refreshing them. Even if you'd be late he would got a text about it, but there was nothing.

He tried to focus on your thoughts, but it was immposible with so many people around. He sighed at went to bathroom, locked himself in one of the cabins and used his 'crossed eye thingy' as you called it.

"What...?" He got up and teleported to you, making sure no one was around. You were sitting on the ground, all wet and cold, in one of the hallways. Your clothes were all soaked which made you shiver and Saiki knew you'd be sick in few days.

"What happened? Why are you sitting here all wet?" He said and kneeled next to you as he took your face in his hands, holding it gently. "Are you... crying?" He asked, but your lack of answer told him everything. He took your hand, helped you get up and brushed off some of wet hair from your face.

He held you tightly as he teleported you to your room. Saiki went to your wardrobe, grabbed some dry clothes and a towel and then went back to you. He started to gently dry your hair and your cheeks from tears. You were looking everywhere but not him, which made him worried.

"y/n, what is it? What happened, please tell me." He kneeled down and looked at you with soft gaze. You looked away and closed your eyes.

"I went to get some documents for teacher... I forgot to tell you about it. I-I don't know how... some stupid bucket of water was on the door to the class." Saiki noded and rubbed your back as he sat next to you. He thought for a second and shook his head.

"Just... stay here, ok? I'll go make you some tea" Saiki got up and went to the kitchen. He didn't care about school right now, he would deal with that later.

Day passed with sometimes even worse 'jokes' and incidents. Sometimes it was missing shoes, sometimes weird notes. At night you felt this weird feeling of being watched as cold air got into your house. You woke up with cold sweat on your face from nightmares and night terrors.

Saiki heard about everything, comforting you day after day. He didn't know why it happened, weirdly he couldn't find any person with thoughts of making another prank to you. It pissed him off a lot.

"I'm staying at home for few days... you can come meet me after classes." You said to Saiki as you covered yourself under the blankets. The temperature in your house was incredibly low which made you wear your warmest hoodie and cuddle into the softest and thickest blanket at your place.

"I'll be there soon..." Saiki answered. His voice was cold , but you could swear you heard some concern in it. You chuckled and buried yourself in the blanket.

Saiki was getting closer to the bathroom, making sure no one followed him or saw him. He could become invisible, but that would take too much time.

As he went inside one of the cabins, he took out his phone and checked his messages. There were few of yours, he could tell you were really bored, one from his mom and one from Aiura.

"Aiura? What does she want now...?" Saiki opened the chat, read the message and sighed. She wanted him to help out with something. "Good grief, right now?" He grumbled while texting you that he would be later.

Future teller told him to come behind the school. He got there and looked at her with bored eyes. It was a really pain in the neck to help with some irrelevant things...

"What is it?" He said with neutral and cold tone.

"Oh! Finally you're here! We need some help to... hang something." She said as she looked up.

"We?" Pink haired boy asked, quickly realising who was the other person. He rolled his eyes annoyed. He should be there with you by now... but no, he's stuck with two idiots behind the school. "Nevermind... I don't care, it's your problem."

He started walking away, not listening to Aiuras pleading and some offers (although they did grab his interests for a second or two). He shook his head and was already next to school corner.

"Saiki it's for your good! We're doing this to help you!" Kusuo heard another, not really pleasant, voice from above. "We've seen someone smiling and looking at you all the time! It's giving a creep vibe, you know?"

Toritsuka looked at Saiki from the top of the rooftop. Psychic stopped walking and looked at them both with confused look. "Stalking? What are you talking about..?"

"You didn't see it? There's this one creep whose staring at you in every class! They smile randomly when looking at you and sometimes even blushing! It's just... Ew!" auira said as she got closer to saiki. He frowned a little.

"Me and Mikoto have been making some pranks from time to time. One time we've scared them at night! I asked some ghost for help and spooked them!" Toritsuka chuckled, remembering the look on your scared face.

Saiki didn't say anything, he only grabbed his friends by the shoulders harshly and teleported them to your place.

"O-Oi Saiki! What are you doing man?" He didn't answer, only knocked gently on your door. He could've teleported directly to your room, but he didn't want to scare you with... his nuisances.

You jumped a little as you heard soft knocking.

"Probably saiki." You got up, still cuddled up in a blanket and went to the door. "Finally you-" You cut your sentence as you saw your boyfriend holding his two friends by their shoulders tightly. " Kusuo why are your friends with you?"

He didn't say anything, just got inside your place and leading his friends to the living room. You didn't know what was going on at.all. Saiki never brought his friends. Even Kaidou or Nendou which were much closer to saiki then Aiura.

you walked behind the three of them. Saiki dropped them near the couch and looked at it. You sat down and started asking questions.

"What's going on? Is everything alright? You could've told me you were bringing your friends, I would prep-"

"They're here to apologize to you." His friends looked at him surprised. Saiki sounded like it was an obvious intention.

"Apologize? Saiki, this person was-"

"They're my partner. We've been together for... some time now." Saiki said, looking away. He thought this 'announcement' would look different. Well he didn't thought about those two..

"Partner? Saiki actually pulled someone?" Toritsuka said, but he got quiet right after his head was hit with one of the cans from the table. "What?! You never told us about having someone! How could we know!" Toritsuka said rubbing his head.

"R-Right! We thought it was some kind of stalker or a creep...!" Aiura wad explaining their motives to Saiki and you thought about all the stuff that happened 'cause of them.

"Saiki it's alright, they didn't know. Maybe you should let go." Even tho you wanted to see what kind of punishment those two would get, you couldn't bring yourself to. Damn your good nature and big heart.

Your boyfriend looked at you and sighed. He loosened his grip and let his friends go. Saiki didn't expect that to happen. He really wanted to send Aiura and Toritsuka on deserted island and leave them for few days. But that would be against his principals... unfortunately.

──────────────────── ☆

"I told you we should have said something..."

It was pretty late when you and Saiki cuddled together on his bed. The night was peaceful with clear sky and bright moon. It was nice and warm, even if it was middle of February.

You had your head on saikis chest as he played with your hair. He had his eye closed, resting them a little. His pink bangs fell on his glasses covering his nose and tickling his cheeks. He looked peaceful and relaxed. Finally after a week he wore his ring so there was no thought in his head. No annoying ideas, thoughts or questions. Only silence.

"Yeah... sorry I didn't know sooner.." Saiki looked at you with soft look. His eyes were half closed and his face was decorated with gentle smile. Kusuo being the 'tusndere' he is doesn't really smile often, but when he does toy cherish those few seconds. "Could've stopped them and prevent this whole thing..."

"Don't be, at least they know now." You looked up and placed few kisses on his jaw and face. He hummed in response, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. "Thank you for looking out for me.." You said as you finally planted last kiss on his lips.

"Always..." he smiled and cuddled you closer to him. He made the lights turn off and closed the curtains. You were finally able to have a peaceful and good night sleep and he would be damned if Saiki didn't try making it even better for you.

"I love you.."

──────────────────── ☆

reblogs are very much appreciated<33 thank you for reading ☆

[jjongslutz]

박제이 JAY 💋 TAKE FIVE! [ MDNI. ]

IN WHICH you've always trusted jay. he's a good director. but you've gotta admit, this gig is... weird

WARNINGS ⨯ fem!reader, pw(out)p, soft dom!jay x sub!reader, director!jay x voice actor!reader, use of pet names (baby, good girl, darling) guided masturbation (f. receiving), recording (audio), fingering (f. receiving), finger sucking, p in v sex, cumming in mouth

WORD COUNT ⨯ 2.4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE . . . i don't even know what prompted this so…. enjoy!

You moan into the mic, marking what feels like the fiftieth time of the day.

This is it, this is the one.

"Hm," you hear the disapproving hum from your headphones, instantly dropping your head in frustration. "I'm sorry Y/N, but I need more emotion."

"Can I have some water?" You ask, instead of returning to the task you just can't quite get.

As long as you've been a voice actor, a good three years, you've never played such a challenging role, which is surprising, considering you once voiced seven different characters in the same show.

Jay, the director, nods at you from behind the glass.

You make your way to his side of the studio in a rush. You truly can't stand another second in that recording booth making such embarrassing sounds into the microphone for a whole group of people to watch and listen.

"What's gotten into you, Y/N?"

This isn't the first time you're working with Jay. He's young, but a very well-known director in the voice acting community under the name Park Jongseong. Though, you know him best as just Jay, one of your old friends from college. Is it nepotism if it's your friend getting you these gigs? But, then again, you're also pretty popular in the community, so... tomato tomato.

You shrug at him, taking a sip out of your water bottle. "I don't know, I guess, it's just—" You raise your shoulders again and take an awkward look around the room. Gesturing with your eyes, you tell him, "There's a lot of people here, it's kinda weird."

The gig in itself is weird, you know this, and you knew this ever since Jay presented it to you.

"You want me to what?"

"It's really simple," he had said. So casually, as if he didn't just drop the bomb that you'll basically be voicing straight up porn. "You make a few... exaggerated sounds, and the jobs done. It pays really well, trust me."

And, since you did need the money, you accepted, expecting it to be the shortest recording session you've ever had.

You were proven wrong already.

Jay lets his forehead fall into his hand, rubbing at his temples as if trying to heal a headache, which he probably actually is. He sighs before letting his arm drop. "Guys, you can go home. I'll take it from here."

They do not have to be told twice because as soon as the words come out of their boss's mouth, they're packing up their bags, putting on their coats and saying their goodbyes. You watch them all file behind each other to exit the studio, and then it's just you and Jay.

"So..." he says, filling the silence. "You ready for another try?"

You're glad he's taken off his director persona. Using it as a pass to strip off some of your own professionalism, you heave a long sigh. "Yeah, sure."

And, so you do.

You moan into the mic, this time making your own face in disgust because even you can hear that it sounded off. But when you turn to Jay, you don't see him mirroring your expression.

Instead, he's watching you intently. His fingers rest on his bottom lip, which is tutting underneath them. He's thinking, thinking, thinking, and you know he's come up with a new idea by the way his lips curl up slowly.

You hear the click of his microphone, and soon his voice fills your headphones. "I have a suggestion." His voice is low, but not hesitant. Jay is anything but hesitant.

"I'll take anything at this point."

"I want you to touch yourself."

His eyes never leave yours despite the window barrier between the two of you. Had you not been wearing your headphones, you would've missed the suggestion entirely, but you cock your head to the side slowly and decide you're fine that you didn't.

He takes your silence as approval. "Pull out the chair and take off your shorts for me," he says quickly. And you do as you're told.

You slowly slide the shorts down your legs, turning your gaze away for a second to recollect yourself.

When you sit down, your eyes meet again. You're sure you've grown a red flush, but he doesn't seem to mind. “Bring the mic down closer to you.” He pulls his bottom lip through his teeth before giving you the next instruction. "Start rubbing your pussy over your panties. Slowly."

Your hand traces its way up your leg, to your thigh, and cunt, both staling and putting on a show. What the fuck am I doing? Using two fingers, you being to draw little circles, then big circles over your clit, starting up a nice rhythm. You hum, pushing your head back against the chair and closing your eyes.

"Good girl," he breathes, and you don't think he even notices he said it.

But you certainly did. It pulls a moan out of you.

Jay hums approvingly from his side. “Slide your fingers underneath your waistband. Touch around your clit, but don't touch it just yet. Can you do that for me?”

You give him a broken hum instead of words, listening to his directions and obeying them simply. Your pussy pulses beneath your touch, begging for your fingers to reach where you want it most. But you listen to Jay obediently, letting your hands draw circles around your cunt, eliciting whimpers from your core.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Jay whispers into your ears. You wish he was in the room with you. You’re not sure what you want him to do, but you want more than just his entrancing voice in the headphones. “Keep reading the script,” he adds.

Right. You almost forgot about it.

Your character is meant to be reading while getting fucked from behind, their words slurred together and interrupted by moans. It’s hot, but the text is less than turning you on.

Starting from the top, you read it out loud, your fingers collecting the juices spilling out from your pleasure.

Without permission, you stick one finger inside of you. You push it in, and out, before retracting it completely and bringing it up to your mouth to suck on it. Once your finger is coated in your saliva, it goes back into your cunt, forgetting all about Jay’s piercing gaze from the other side of the glass.

His voice rings in your ears. “What are you doing, baby? That’s not part of the script,” he teases.

Your finger still in your sopping cunt, you lean forward to start back with the script. At about halfway, Jay’s voice sounds again.

“Play with your clit.” His voice drips with a sense of hunger that turns you on.

Your thumb rolls over your clit, finally, a broken moan escaping your lips. You curl your other fingers inside of you, searching for your G-spot which you just can't quite reach. A whine drawls out of you.

When he’s satisfied with your noises, you hear the click of his mic turning on. “Pinch your nipple.”

Bringing your other arm up, you notice your hardened nipples aching to be played with. You twist and pinch and tug to Jay’s pleasure.

“Good girl,” he groans again. His hand drifts further down his body to where you can't see from where you're sitting, but you watch his arm jerk and match his pace with the fingers in your pussy. “Fuck,” he mutters, taking off his headphones and slamming them on the table before moving for the door into the recording booth.

The sudden slam of the door startles you, making you jump in your seat. You close your legs quickly with your hands still embarrassingly stuck down your panties.

Jay fakes concern. “Aw baby, are you shy?” He kneels down in front of you, holding teasingly sweet eye contact as he gets down. His hands come up to your hips and dig into the waistband. You twitch as he snaps the band against your skin. “How about we take these off so I can see how wet you are?”

They come off within seconds. You’re scrambling to get back into your seat as Jay keeps watching you patiently.

“Perfect.” He runs his thumb against your dripping core, sending shivers down your spine. Your pre-cum leaves his finger shining. He raises his hand up to your mouth and swipes his thumb against your lips. You open them to welcome the taste of your wetness. “Good girl.”

As your tongue laps his thumb, you squeal when you feel an invasion in your cunt. Jay’s stuck two fingers into you, and thrusts them rhythmically to your tongue on his other hand.

You moan at the arousing sensations. Your eyes flutter shut naturally, but they catch on the flickering red light from atop the booth’s door.

It’s still recording. Fuck, you think, unable to form coherent words, bucking your hips as you feel your high coming closer. Your breaths are short and your cries are higher pitched, completely letting yourself get lost in the feeling.

And then it all slips away.

“Why,” you whine, prolonging the syllable in distress.

Jay wears a teasing smile, but his eyes show gentle affection. His hands go down to his waistband, but he interrupts himself in his movement. “Oh, baby, were you gonna cum? I’m sorry, I thought you’d want to do it on my cock instead, but I can finger you some more—”

“No!” You sit up hurriedly, grabbing his waistband weakly to take it off for him.

“Such a good girl,” he says proudly, watching you scramble to take his pants off.

You bite your lip at the wet patch on his boxers, but more at the outline of his hardened arousal underneath them. Jay looks at you intensely, his eyes telling you, “Go on.”

His erection slaps against his clothed torso. His tip shines of precum and it takes everything in you not to lap it all in your tongue.

Jay’s hand harshly grabs your hair, pulling your head to make eye contact with him towering above you. “Darling, don’t forget what we’re here for.”

You’re reminded of the recording mic and the script, crumpled paper, now, sitting on the script-stand. Pathetically, you get up from your knees, placing your hands on the stand and arching your back, giving him clear access to your entrance, which glistens in invitation.

Looking at the microphone sitting atop its stand, bent to where it sits right under your lips, your mind wanders at the thought of the shape and how much you wish it was Jay’s cock. You imagine putting him in your mouth and taking him all the way down your throat, letting him thrust upward, causing you to choke on him and clenching your throat tighter to make sure he spills his seed deep inside you.

The intrusion of him aligning himself to your hole shuts your thoughts up. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans as he slides in slowly.

His first thrust pulls out a pornagraphic moan from you. The way he hits right where you need him, balls-deep into your cunt. Your hand drags down to your stomach where you feel the tip of his dick pushing forward with each thrust.

You clench around him, trying to focus on the script through blurry vision. Taking breaks between every few words to moan or suck in a deep breath—more often, both—you manage measly to get through your lines.

“Good girl,” Jay calls you again. His hand reaches down to stroke your hair gently, before he harshly grips the base of it, bundling it in his hands and using it as leverage to slam his hips against yours. “Such a good fucking girl.”

Combining his fast thrusts and his hypnotizing words, you know you’re not going to last long. You feel his cock hit your g-spot and it’s all over. You’re clenching and whining into the microphone, letting out the most pleasurable angelic noises you’ve ever made. Your legs tremble underneath his unstilling movements.

When you’re done shaking in pleasure beneath him, your hips buck forward to avoid overstimulation, his cock slipping out. Jay doesn’t mind, his hand going directly to his aching groin, moving at a fast pace.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You love the sounds he makes. His low hums, the way he speaks quickly to not interrupt himself by a loud moan.

Steadying yourself on the chair, you kneel in front of him, his cock jerking against your mouth. He groans above you, thrusting his hips into it as he gets close. You open your mouth and welcome his spilling white ropes as he closes his eyes tightly and lets out the most brain-fuzzing sound of the day.

Jay takes his hand and cups your jaw. His thumb swipes over the leftover cum leaking over your lips, pushing it through as to not waste any bit of it. “Perfect,” he whispers at the beautiful sight in front of him.

He pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket, dampens it with water from your bottle and cleans you, then the microphone and script stands.

You thank him as he helps you pull your clothes on over your body, muscles still shaking.

When you’re both on the outside of the booth, nothing is different in the air from when you were out here with him before. You’re not sure if you wish it had changed or if you’re thankful there’s nothing weird that came from what you just did.

“How was that,” you ask, sipping on your bottle. You’re not really serious, you know it was good, but you need the confirmation.

A light dust of pink shades his cheeks as he names the audio file “Y/N as Mina, Ep. 4.” “Yes, you did, uh, very good. Really good.”

A smile creeps upon your lips, but you suppress it by biting your lip. “Thank you.”

With your words, his blush deepens.

But despite his bashful expression, your eyes train on the movement of his mouse on the screen, noting how he duplicates the file and saves it into another folder, labeled: X.

“I’d be happy to work with you again, Jay.”

 JJONGSLUTZ 2023

[cherrifire]

Hello this is probably super random but I’m personally curious on how to start working with content creators like people from the traffic life serries? Like specifically with YouTube video thumbnails. I really think it would be a good thing to try out and I feel confident in my skills to do it.

I'm unfortunately not going to be much help since I don't usually find work, work finds me. I don't even have my commissions page public yet and CCs keep showing up in my dms like "heyyyy 🥰"

I think the only time I specifically reached out to a creator was Rendog. He said something on stream about wanting to find an emote artist. Told stream to send artists to him on Twitter. So I decided to shoot my shot and sent him a message basically saying "Hey Ren, I heard you were looking for an artist! Here are some examples of my emote work, hope to hear from you soon <3" and it worked!

I guess in the case of Spiff and Martyn (who both just showed up one day), keep a steady social media. Regularly post art and keep up with the creators you like. If they see your work and they like it, they WILL do something about it. This doesn't always work of course and is not a genuine suggestion to find work, but this is how it happened for me.

The better advice I can give is in the case of Ren. Keep an eye out for opportunities and ALWAYS try to take them. The worst they can do is say no. So there is no harm in trying. When Creators want to commission an artist, they will sometimes go to the community to ask for suggestions. Tweets like "looking for an artist with ___ style, reply with examples or artists you think are good ^-^" are fairly common.

ALSO! This is going to sound so cliche, but take any job you can and PRACTICE. I MEAN IT MAN.

Reason 1: I started working for Grian because he saw my work through Martyn. Plus, Grian isn't the only one to find me this way.

Reason 2: Improvement is real and WILL get you.

As proof, here's my first and super ugly thumbnail from a year ago (don't be fooled by the high view count, the other videos around it had views in the millions. So this thumbnail did not help):

And here's my newest thumbnail:

Hope this helps at least a little. Sorry I can't say much else. Things just keep happening to me and I didn't do much to get there.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Comfort Headcanons And Scenarios Of Cod Men With Your Kid

Basically CoD characters comforting your kid. (Single parent Reader)

Synopsis: He has a romantic relationship/connection with you (Singleparent!Reader) and he comforts your little one, making you further realize how much he loves and cares about you and your little one.

Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra.

Taglist: @puff0o0 @wishesforyou @simping4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies

This is short but I'm back lovelies! This was originally posted on January 7 however I posted it too early :)) AND YES I KNOW I'VE USED THE PIC IN THE MIDDLE SO MANY TIMES NOW, CAN'T HELP IT IT'S TOO DAD!COD CODED.

That 1k special really took it's time didn't it? Sorry you guys, it needs to cook a little more. I do want to thank you all for how far I've made it despite going through a lot. The messages I've been receiving regarding puff definitely have not gone unappreciated and I hope things take a good turn from here. @blingblong55 has been craving some Dad!Ghost content and even though this doesn't really count for now, this should at least be like a little snack for y'all and her.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

❥ Simon never really considered himself a family man, but damn did that all change when you and your little one made your way into his lives and worm yourselves in his heart.

❥ Whether Simon likes it or not, it breaks him to see your child upset. It could be something small like they're craving a certain kind of food or a scratch on their knees from taking off the training wheels on their bike but Simon was always and I mean always there.

❥ So much so that your little one started calling him something that you didn't even know about till later. Overhearing them as Simon took the initiative to feed her while you finished off some chores. You put the mop down only to hear them talking, you peek into your kitchen..

"Daddy!" Your eyes widened as you heard your little one squeal.

Simon tried his best to deny and dodge your kid calling him their dad, trying to correct them and pass it off as a mistake.

It was taken as an offense and their lips started quivering, their cheeks becoming even more chubby as their lips steadied to a pout. Simon sighed in defeat, patting their little back, trying his best to take back what he said.

Only to have them squeal then call him "dada", "daddy", and "dad" repeatedly while they squish Simon's face between their little hands.

"I love you, dada" It was almost inaudible with how butchered it was but you and Simon knew your little one the most, it was easier for both of you to know what they're trying to communicate even with the words and letters they had difficulty pronouncing.

You saw how Simon teared up, he refuses to cry but no matter what he did, his body was saying otherwise.

He couldn't help himself, he held the little one closer to his chest seemingly hugging them tighter. He kissed the top of their head over and over having his eyes closed, you could've sworn you heard a sniffle if it wasn't for the giggle of your child.

Little thing has him wrapped around their little chubby fingers.

John Price

❥ John was always protective of those put in his care, that being said, when you walked into his life with the little munchkin trailing behind, he became far more of a father figure than he was before.

❥ The more he interacted with the both of you, the more he toyed on the possibility of being with you, being there for them. Something he never thought of having due to risk, a family to call his own.

❥ The aggressive pats on his men = tight hugs from him to your little one after they said they missed him. It wasn't really a surprise to you when your kid starting confiding more to John, being more attach to the man as another parental figure.

John decided for the first time ever to take your kid with him to work, though sure it was just a short visit due to him wanting to finish up something however your child seem to think otherwise.

It was intimidating, huge ceilings, long hallways dreaded to be in no color. Overstimulated to say the least, it was difficult being in a new environment for your child.

Especially all the new people they get to see, "I don't like it here.. it's dark and scary.." It wasn't really dark however it was quite dim. John took initiative and picked them up in his arms, telling them short stories of what they used to do on base.

Slowly, they came to the realization that they were safe there and no one would harm them. Being a shy kid now open to meet their dad's co-workers and second family. (Might as well be their brothers)

John "Soap" MacTavish

❥ Honoring everyone's headcanon of Johnny having a big family, I'd like to think he does, few brothers and sisters and a ton of cousins.

❥ Surely Johnny knows his way around kids, though not liking those ones in family gatherings as much.

❥ Meeting you, Johnny was a little too ecstatic finding out you have a little one of your own. More often the two spent a ridiculous amount of time together, he was living for it, one of his ways to show his love your you and your kid.

Johnny held the bike up, guiding to help your kid as they've been asking him over and over again to teach them ride a bike without training wheels.

After a while he lets go of the bike and it manages to go smoothly until they got distracted and hit a nearby tree. Johnny quickly rushed to them hoping they weren't hurt too bad, he was met with a teary eyed child covering their knee.

"It's alright, it's a wee wound. Nothing on my big strong kiddo right?" To Johnny's surprise, it worked. They wiped their tears away, putting their arms in the air, signaling Johnny to carry them.

You got them patched up in a bandaid and a kiss on their knee from you then back it was spending time with Johnny instead indoors this time around. (Little thing made Johnny kiss the boo-boo too, how could he deny such a sweet request <3)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

❥ We've established this before but Kyle is extremely good with kids without even trying, so having this man in your life makes it feel like it's easy most times.

❥ Even if Kyle didn't come from a big family or have any experience with children except for the ones he rescued a while back, he's a natural. Giving the kid space to explore their little curiosities if it's safe enough.

❥ Seeing your child having a panic attack was a lot harder for him than it was back when he had to comfort kids he rescued from being hostages..

Kyle woke up to the sounds of heavy and shaky breathing, not to mention something or rather someone pulling on his clothes. He opened his eyes to find his little light teary eyed.

"Shhh, it's going to be alright.. you're safe here with me" Kyle whispered, after immediately pulling the kid to his chest for a snug embrace.

Still with the hyperventilating, the only solution Kyle found was to distract them and to help regulate their breathing back to normal, slowly turning their attention to something else.

"Thank you, dad" was whispered with a yawn. Kyle's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, before he could talk to them again, he looked at the child who was fast asleep in his arms.

Alejandro Vargas

❥ Alejandro seemed fine around kids, finds them entertaining for the most part since children were never really something he planned on having but he was open for when the opportunity presented itself.

❥ He only ever was learning along the way and was it such a pleasure to do so along with loving you, having said that he's been doing better lately.

❥ Safe to say your sick toddler was in good hands..

Soft cooing with coughs is all Alejandro heard all day, he felt bad about the little one suffering even though it was something small, it's difficult for them to even crawl or move on their own.

You found yourself not being able to comfort your baby, no matter how much you tried to, they won't stop crying.

Luckily, Alejandro was willing to lend a helping hand. He managed to calm their little temper down and rocked them to sleep.

You walked in on him cradling them to sleep, muttering and whispering Spanish to the little one, laughing quietly to himself while he admires their peaceful state.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

❥ Rudy has always wanted children, he used to watch while the children in Las Almas played together in the streets. One of the things he wished to protect about the city.

❥ Then he was given the opportunity to have that kind of family by you. It's almost like his prayers were answered, at any given moment he could lose you and your kid, whether that'd be through danger or an end to you relationship.

❥ What this sweet man wasn't aware of was that he wasn't the only one terrified of losing his family..

Rudy walked into your home hoping to find your kid somewhere in the living room, he thought it was alarming seeing that they weren't in their usual spot playing.

He was about to knock in their bedroom door when the door creaked, giving him a small peek. Soft sniffles, hiccups and hands in their eyes.

"Mija/Mijo, what's wrong?" he asked, he thought it might've been a quarrel between friends or some mean person at school.

"Are you really leaving.. forever..?" They asked, it tugged on Rudy's heart, although some part of him feels so amazing, it was an accomplishment to be cared for by his child.

"Of course not, I promise I'll come back home just for you. And when I do, we'll get to spend even more time together than we have before" The way your little one's eye's light up made Rudy forever sealed to you, he wants this, nothing more and he'll never ask for anything else.

Everything is worth the risk if it was with you if he gets to make you and them happy, anything it'll take..

Honestly, same..

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

modern Wolf Hybrid! Katsuki Bakugou X Bunny Hybrid! Reader

MDNI!

Hey y'all, I'm back! sooooo, I took a lil break from basically everything, and since you've been waiting so patiently like the good wifeys you are, I've decided to put this little number out. It's been sitting in my drafts for a bit, and while it isn't the next installment of my series, I hope it'll tide you over for a while as I work on chapter 4. think of it as hold music in an elevator, or don't, I don't care... What's that? you want me to stop yapping and give you the summary? Oh, right, basically Katsuki is being an attention whore, you get into an argument, and you make up. Sound good?

words: 1756

Warnings: Reader is AFAB, Reader recieves oral, slight teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint reaaaally hard, Katsu is bad at communication but he's trying,

He didn't understand you. Watching you sit on his couch, talking and talking on the phone to your family, not paying attention to him. Sure, you were from different cultures, and he understood that, but you and your family just...cared so much. He moved out when he was 16, just like every other wolf, and only saw his family for major holidays or events.

You on the other hand, you moved out only for college, something your parents fought you every step of the way on, especially because you went to St. Lupus University. It was in the middle of St. Lupus City, a hotspot for people looking for opportunity, as well as mostly populated by wolves. Your parents were extremely old fashioned, believing that all wolves were predators, and while life with Katsuki was definitely blood-pumping, he was hardly predatory.

In fact, you were lying to them right now, dodging questions about if you've "Been eaten yet" (not in the way they think), or if you found a boyfriend. You answered both questions with no, even though that last one was a lie. Katsuki rested on the back of the couch, standing over you with his arms on either side of your head. You leaned your head back, smiling at him and reaching up to scratch his scalp just below his fluffy ear.

He leaned into it, frowning with hard eyes yet his tail swishing back and forth behind him. You kept chatting and chatting, the phone being passed around to your multitude of family members. "Uh huh...yeah! Oh, it's great here... No, I haven't been attacked..."

Katsuki rolled his eyes, a slight rumbling coming from his chest. These people were so stupid, believing anything they hear, stuck in old ways. He came around the couch, sitting down and putting his arm around your shoulders. You smiled and leaned in, resting against his side and continuing to talk. "You done yet," he grumbled, twisting the ends of your hair with his fingers.

"No," you whispered, covering the mic of your phone. "h-huh? Oh, that's great." you said blithely, much to Katsuki's disgruntlement. How could anyone on that dumb phone be more important than him right now? He put his head in your lap, to which you absentmindedly tousled his hair, thumbing the blonde fur of his plush and pert ears. This wasn't enough for him though, despite how it made him tingle all over.

He sat back up, taking your face in his hands. You gave him a confused smile, and he got in close quickly to kiss you with all the passion he could muster. You were definitely surprised, and pulled away even faster to respond to your family members with blushing cheeks and a pounding heart. "N-nope, no boyfriend yet...!"

Katsuki scowled. He knew you couldn't tell them, it would probably get you exiled from your podunk little town, but he still hated how the words sounded coming out of your mouth.

"Just hang up already," he huffed, not caring if anyone on the other side heard him. "Stop whining," you whispered, continuing to chatter. He groaned and stood up, stomping off. What a baby.

A few minutes later, he came back, this time with a devilish grin on his face. He sat in front of you, tail thumping against the ground with a slow rhythm, resting his chin on your knees. You were a little skeptical about it at first, but he did nothing unsavory, so you just ignored it and scratched his head, rubbing at his ears. He enjoyed it thoroughly, closing his eyes and his face relaxing a little, but he quickly snapped out of it. He had a mission.

Slowly and carefully, he moved in closer and closer, parting your legs more and more, an easy task with your skirt. You didn't notice a thing. perfect. Finally, he reached his destination, that sweet spot right between your plush thighs. He looked up, seeing how consumed you were by your conversation, how you didn't even notice the way his breath fanned across your panties. Now he was going to teach you not to ignore him, to give him the attention he deserved.

He licked a stripe up the fabric of your underwear, his skilled tongue starting at the entrance of your vagina and moving to the top of your clit. You yelped, your eyes finally meeting his in confusion. He grinned up at you, his hands now on your hips, scrunching your skirt up and running his thumb under the side wing of your panties. "K-katsuki," you whispered, your voice a stern, before your phone called your attention once more. "O-oh, It's nothing! just saw a bug," you laughed nervously.

Katsuki scowled, clearly he needed more to get you to hang up. He ripped away your underwear like paper, something you could do nothing about at the moment, and immediately latched on to your clit. This time you squeezed your mouth shut, keeping yourself as quiet as possible. You glared daggers at him, your cheery tone on the phone completely different than your expression. He just smiled like he won a prize, holding eye contact as he lapped and sucked like a man starved.

He gripped your hip in one hand while the other slid to your entrance, immediately sticking two fingers in and pumping in and out. The combination was too much for you, and you conceded, giving a quick bye to your family. "Katsuki," you cried the second your hung up, sitting upright. You were trying to be mad, but...god, he was hot, blissed out between your thighs.

"What? Shoulda listened the first time," he taunted with a muffled voice, continuing with his ministrations. Soon enough, you found your thighs clenching around his head, your hand interlaced through his hair, and your toes curling. He made sure to lap up every drop, inside and out, eyes locked on your beautiful face.

"Why do you always do this," you panted after calming down from your high, seriously curious, as he got up and stood over you. He frowned, this wasn't exactly the response he wanted, and his ears drooped slightly. "Why're you always on the phone when you should be paying attention to me?" He didn't understand it, after all he was never on the phone when he was with you.

You sighed and sat all the way up, something a little uncomfortable with the lack of underwear. You patted the seat next to you, and he begrudgingly sat down. "Katsuki, I know you don't feel the same way about family that I do, but they're important to me! I miss them."

He stared you down, eyes sharp, brows furrowed, and mouth in a deep frown. "Do you think they'll feel the way you feel about them when they find out? Do you honestly believe they love you the way you love them when they'd throw you out like trash the second they realize you and I are together?!"

His words stung, mostly because they were true, but also because of the way he spoke to you. "No...but, does it matter? Don't I get to feel loved by them a little longer?"

He went silent. The sad look in your eyes, the way your forehead creased, the way your cute little ears pressed sadly against your head. Fuck, you were too patient with him. Too reasonable. Why couldn't you just yell at him back, so he could feel like he was right to argue with you?

You just shook your head and got up, going to his bedroom and shutting the door. You couldn't just sit there and wait for him to comprehend, you needed some space until he could talk to you.

Five minutes later, he walked in to see you in his bed, your bunny ears flat against your head, and your face illuminated by your phone screen as you scrolled. Damn it, he could see tear stains. He could feel his heartstrings being plucked like a lyre. He sat on his knees in front of your face, his tail practically between his legs and his ears flattened back as he rested his chin on the bed. "'m sorry," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact as his scowl hid his fear that he may have pushed a little too far.

You set your phone down, wiping a couple tears from your eyes. "Why," you asked shortly, making him a little stunned for a moment. You wanted to make sure he meant it. It was one thing to say sorry, but a whole other thing to mean it.

"Because, I was bein' stupid...and rude..."

"And an asshole," you interjected.

"And an asshole," he repeated, chuckling slightly. He brought his hand to yours, and you hesitantly took it. "I just...I dunno," he scoffed, never one for talking things out. "I don't like how they think."

You nodded with understanding, kissing his hand and pressing your face against it. "I know, I know it's wrong..." you seemed to be thinking for a moment, and Katsuki was patiently waiting to hear what you had to say. "I'm gonna tell them. Tomorrow." He lit up for a moment, but quickly masked it because he knew it wasn't going to easy for you. Still, his tail thumping against the ground gave away his joy.

"Do you...want me to be there...?" He wanted to be, mainly to defend you and see their dumb faces realize it, but he also wanted to keep you from bawling. "that'd be nice," you sighed, blinking slowly.

You hadn't realized how tired you were, you were emotionally drained from all this, the big decision you just made, plus the fact that the smell and ambiance of Katsuki's room was so relaxing. The warm lighting from the lamp on his bedside, the soft blankets and pillows simulating a den, and the scent of burnt caramel and musk permeating the room.

He could see how sleepy you felt, and slowly got into bed with you, testing the waters to see if you still needed space. You let him, turning over and snuggling into his chest. He nuzzled into the top of your head, breathing in your scent and running his fingers through your hair. "I love you, I hope you know that, dumbass," he mumbles tenderly against your scalp, running his hand gently over your ears and down your head over and over again while watching as your tired frown turns into a soft smile. Those fuckers have another thing coming tomorrow.

I hope you liked the soft feels at the end, because I sure did. Like I said in other posts, angst isn't really my thing, so I deeply apologize to all angst lovers if they expected more of it. As always, let me know how you feel about this!

tagging you because I care <3: @b134ch-m4h-ey3z

[jewishvitya]

Saw an interview with the Israeli ambassador in the UK where she openly rejects the idea of a Palestinian state at all. Including in a two-states scenario. Which, I knew this is the position of our government, Netanyahu was recently trying to push the "I'm the only one who can prevent a Palestinian state," but she was unusually open and explicit about it for an international interview.

And I didn't realize it at first (because I'm awful with faces... and names) but that's Tzipi Hotoveli. She's so right-wing that she was a popular name in the settlements when I lived there. And this is something I can say about many politicians currently running the government, they are the names that aligned politically with the most extremist community. And this is why she's so bad at being diplomatic about it - the people with that mentality rarely care about watering down their goals.

A mutual of mine on a different platform, an American anti-zionist Jew, talked about a trip they took to the West Bank. It was organized to show the occupation, the checkpoints, etc. Someone asked in response if they visited settlements too, and said that he was glad they enjoyed the trip, but it seems to be all one color.

This was a weird comment. What can you see in the settlements to change your mind, if you care about human rights. What can you see that would erase the suffering of Palestinians there, or give context to justify it. Even if settlers knew to say all the right words, this shouldn't be enough to make you forget what Palestinians are living through.

But they don't say the right words. Especially there, the people openly dehumanize Palestinians. And if you talk to them for a while, they will do it to your face. And they will be open about wanting no Palestinians living on any part of the land. Israeli Arabs are often seen as a different story, as long as they accept Israeli sovereignty. Still not fully trusted, though.

I saw someone confusing the electric fence I mentioned in a few posts, with the separation fence, which is the wall around the West Bank. Not the same thing.

The separation fence is built within the territory of the West Bank, but it's a large wall all around that cuts them off from other areas of the land.

The electric fence is smaller, and it's specific. The one I'm referring to is in Kiryat Arba, near Hebron. That's the settlement I grew up in. It's one of the more established settlements, and it's basically a small town. Right behind the apartment building I lived in, there was the electric fence. And in a distance of maybe a couple of traffic lanes past the fence, were Palestinian homes. They could see us, we could see them.

The fence was there for our sake, not for the Palestinians. But sometimes the settlers would tear it down, forcing the border police and the military to guard that spot and rebuild it. I wondered why, because a hole in the fence near my home scared me. And then I learned they were protesting against the feeling that they're being contained. The settlers, with how they're constantly expanding, felt that they're not given enough. Settlers treat "we can't expand as fast as we'd like" as if that's oppression.

They would regularly get into conflicts with border police and with the military over this. They'd go out to claim another hill, and their temporary homes would get torn down. Individuals from the West Bank settlements would have the Shin Bet keeping track of them in case they'll do something that could provoke an escalation of violence. And this isn't to claim that Israel was being fair to Palestinians or protecting their interests. It just means that Israel tried to be strategic to an extent, and the settlers are inflammatory. Their stated goal, openly talked about, is to establish a presence on the ground, so that any agreement that gives land to Palestinians won't be possible. I kept hearing sentences like "not even a square centimeter." Meaning that they want to leave nothing for Palestinians. They aren't trying to think about what Israel can get away with, they feel entitled to everything.

And these are the people that the current Israeli government aligns with. Which puts a lot of things out in the open, and pushes a lot of other things into further extremes.

[lovelybrooke]

Excuse me, I know you wrote for L Lawliet a lot but if you have time could you write for a platonic yandere L Lawliet and a child gender neutral reader? It can be a story or headcanons, anything you want.

Thanks!

Aren't you excited (Platonic Yandere L Lawliet x child reader).

Check out my other works here: Masterlist

---

The house was surprisingly quiet today.

You knew why, L was here today. Well not here, it was just him on a computer, but his presence still left an impact. All the other kids were gathered around the computer, asking him question after question.

You never really cared. Unlike some of the other children, you no longer hold out hope that you'll eventually become L successor. You don't wish to waste time striving for an unattainable goal, rather focusing on something much more obtainable, being adopted.

The sounds of children talking was distant but audible, but you choose to ignore it in favor of the book in your lab. This is probably your eighth time reading it, but you enjoy it more than the other books in the library. It's a fantasy novel about a girl traveling through time trying to save her family. It was basic, all the twists and turns very simple, but it had a charm a lot of the other books didn't.

"(Y/N), would you like to talk to L?" A softspoken adult comes up to you, eyeing you at your spot on the couch. You shake your head, sparing them a small glance before returning to your book. The man sighs, walking back over to the computer, whispering something into the microphone as the kids disperse in multiple directions. You can hear the computer shut close as the man walks out of the room with it tucked under its arm, his face adorning an unreadable expression.

---

During lunch you sat alone.

You've never been good at making friends, the Wammy's house not exactly being an ideal place to foster friendships. Either way, you've always been a solitary person, opting for the comfort of books rather than people.

But for some reason, today was different.

You sat down at your unofficial official table, tucked away in a corner just so you could push away your lunch and read the chosen book of the day.

But today, you were spooked by the sound of the chair across from you scrapping, the soft sound of someone sitting down filling you with dread. Slowly turning your head up, you come face to face with near, L's most likely successor. He gives you a wide eye stare, like he was trying see into your soul.

Admittedly, Near freaked you out. It wasn't unusual for the children at the Wammy's house to be bad at communicating, but with Near, it was different. It wasn't unusual to catch him staring at you, unabashedly, or for him to ask you strange questions that threw you for a loop. In short, you two weren't really the greatest of friends.

"Did you need something?" You whisper to him, giving him a very confused look. Near shuffled into his seat further, his strange way of sitting causing your brow to furrow. His legs were too his chest, his hands resting on his knees. While it looked uncomfortable, he seemed perfectly fine. Almost too fine.

"Why aren't you eating?" He asked, ignoring your question.

Some of the tenseness in your shoulders leave at the sound of his soft voice, but you were still clearly on edge. "I'm reading." You say, shaking your book a little for emphasis. Near nods, an uncaring air around him. He shuffles a bit more, listening to the children around him speaking, his eyes constantly darting from you to the others around you.

You try your hardest to ignore the kid across from you, but every time you felt his gaze flicker towards you, you wanted to fall over and die. Eventually, it becomes too much to bear and with a small huff, you confront the odd boy.

"What do you want." It sounded rude, but you were fed up with the staring and whispers. Despite you clear annoyance, Near doesn't respond instantly, simply tilting his head with a thumb in his mouth.

"Do you ever think about being adopted" He questions. You fumble for a second before countering back.

"Sometimes." That was an understatement, and he could tell. A small, nearly unnoticeable smile crosses his face, though it returns back to his stoic expression before you could comment on it.

"What do you mean, sometimes?" Now he was just playing with you, and irritation was written all across your face.

You shrug your shoulders, the book that was previously in your hands now closed on the table. "I want the same as everyone else here, a happy family." You raise a brow at him, "how about you?"

"Same probably." It was a quick answer, and the strange look on Near's face made you think he was hiding something from you. Though, the blank expression on your face made it hard to get anything out of him.

"He asked for you, y'know?" Your movement stopped. He was referring to L, you could tell by the look on his face, a faraway but somehow focused expression. You, in contrast, were shocked that L knew you. But he probably knew about everyone in the orphanage, right? You didn't want to dwell on it too long, your stomach already hurt from the lack of food, you didn't need to add on nerves on top of it.

"Okay, what about it?" You knew lunch was about to end soon but you wished it was over right now.

Near slowly shuffled off the chair, his eyes never leaving you as he moves. He whispers something too quiet to hear as the squeaking of chairs and sounds of children fill the room. You turn to grab you book, but before you could ask him any more questions, Near was gone.

---

Today, you got a new book.

It was the sequel to the one you were previously reading. You were shocked to see the book in the library. It rarely got new books, and science fiction was definitely at the bottom of the list.

Though, you weren't complaining. It was a nice change of pace to be able to read something new for one. Plus, it was in pristine condition, barely a mark on it. It was like no one had even touched it before you.

"(Y/N), are you listening?" You snap up, a very upset teacher eyeing you. You nod shyly, closing the book slowly while attempting to ignore the giggling of children. The teacher rolls her eyes, very much used to your behavior at this point. "Really, (Y/N), I don't know how you expect to get anywhere with your heads always up in the clouds."

You don't really process her words, used to them at this point. You weren't like the other children, you weren't naturally gifted, you didn't have the same skills as them. You rather spend your time in your own world, than in one that seemed so against you.

A knock on the door turned your attention away from the teacher, a man entering the room. He was the same one from the other day, the soft-spoken man who seemed very annoyed with your reluctance to talk to L. His eyes darted around the room, landing on yours for a second to long, causing you to look down at your lap in embarrassment. The teacher acknowledged his presence by speeding over to him, exchanging whispers to each other for a few moments.

The classroom was dead silent as the teacher pointed towards you and directed you to the man, motioning you out of the room. So much was communicated without words. You knew it was urgent by the jolts and jerks of her movement, and by how the man placed his hand on your back to get you to move faster though the long winding hallways.

It felt like hours of walking before you were sat down in an empty classroom. It looked like it had been empty for a while, noted by the dust lining the tables and the thick air surrounding you. "Please, sit near the front." He said, pointing to the closest table. You fumble for a few seconds, very confused and nervous, before sitting down, smoothing down your clothes in an attempt to self sooth.

A piece of paper and a pencil is placed down on your desk, "All you need to do is answer the questions." He said, his voice calm as ever, though there was a hit of edge behind every word. "Most of them are opinion based, so don't dwell on the questions to long." He paused, sitting down at the teacher's desk in the front of the classroom. "Please just...answer honestly." His words become quite as he continues, but they fill you this enough dread to take them to heart.

You lean forward, slowly moving your seat as to make as little noise as possible. You flip the paper, nothing on the back, and the front appeared to only have five questions.

Question number one, "what is your favorite food?" You tilt your head, confused, but ultimately relieved that it was simple to answer. You scribble down a few words before moving onto the next one.

Question number two, "where do you want to live when you grow up?" Slightly strange question, usually it's what you want to do when you grow up, but sure, you weren't really complaining. Again, you write a few things until you feel satisfied.

Question number three, "Do you have difficulty making friends?" You almost drop your pencil at the question, but you calm yourself quickly. You don't know how to answer the question really, but you think of Near, and your very few conversations. They were fine, but you were never really friends, at least you don't think so. You wonder if Near thought of you as a friend.

Question number four, "Would you like to be adopted?" What sort of question was that, of course you did. Wasn't that the point of everyone here. You dreamed of having a normal, simple family. Instead, you're stuck here, for what seems like forever. You don't say that though, just writing down something simple.

Question number five, "Describe your ideal father figure." You racked your brain for an example, but nothing really came. Instead, your mind went to the protagonist father in your favorite book. He was a reserved man but had a deep love for his daughter. He did everything in his power to keep her safe, eventually even sacrificing himself to have her live. You admired the selflessness of the man, his devotion to his child, and his desire to keep her safe. If you have a father, you'd want one like that. You write it down quickly.

After finishing all the questions, you stand up and rush over to the table, placing the paper down in front of the man. You stand still as he grabs the paper, placing it in a folder and then in his bag. "Good, good, thank you." He gives you an awkward smile, "You can return to class now."

You nod, shuffling toward the door, your fists tightly clenched as anxiousness filled your body. Before you can leave, you're turning around quickly, facing the man. "What was the test for?" You ask, voice wavering.

The man barely spares you a glance as he collects his things and stands up. "You don't have to worry about it for now." Again, there was that smile, and your stomach churned.

---

Today was quiet.

L wasn't here today, or you guess, he wasn't on the computer today. The common room was filled with children quietly talking, doing homework, playing games. You, like every other day, was sitting on your spot in the couch, reading your book.

Everyone in a while, you look over at the children playing games. It wasn't uncommon to see children playing games together, but the games looked new, some even still covered in plastic wrap. You assumed that they were donated, or that one of the caretakers bought them.

The new board games brought your mind to your new book, pristine and untouched. It was strange, all these new items popping up in the orphanage. Entranced by your thoughts, you rub the edge of your book. It couldn't have been a coincident, you were the only one that read that book, so much that the librarian let you keep it indefinitely.

Maybe she was being nice, saw that you enjoyed the book, and bought you the rest of the series. But even she was surprised by new book, like she wasn't aware of its existence.

"(Y/N)." You look up, it was someone different, and older man this time. "May I have a word with you?" You nod, closing your book and placing it on the couch.

You follow the man into a much more formal room than the classroom you were in yesterday. It was mostly bare, simply a desk with two chairs across it. You take a seat, the old man following suit, grasping his hands together as he places them in the middle of the desk.

The man smiles, noting your clear nerves, "don't worry, you're not in trouble." You nod, letting out an audible exhale. The man chuckles, his smile not leaving, which calms you a little. "I have some news about your potential adoption."

You barely have time to feel any happiness before you're asking questions. "I-I'm sorry. Who are you?" You ask with a tilt of your head. The man doesn't react to your confusion, his expression never changing.

"I am Watari." He said and your eyes wide. You knew about Watari, but most children don't see him these days. He was always concerned with L, and unless you were likely to be his successor, you were not likely to see him.

Watari is perceptive and can tell your discomfort at his precedence. He reclines back in his chair, leaving some space in between you too. He sighs, calm and gentle, it was hard to tell he was an old man, other than his old looks. "I promise there's nothing to worry about." He pauses, watching your breathing calm, "L has...taken an interest in you, to say the least." He mumbles the last part. "He's been keeping an eye on you; he knows your favorite color, your favorite food, your favorite book." He lists things off, one by one, they bring you no comfort.

"You know, a part of me considers L my son. I care about him deeply." His words were serious, a contrast to his previous infliction. "I know he would do the same if given the chance."

You didn't know how to respond. You didn't know what to think. It was hard to think under these circumstances. You don't imagine you have a choice, judged by the way Watari is framing his words. He wasn't offering something; he was telling you what was going to happen.

"I'll help you pack your things, will leave in a few minutes." He guides you out the room, heading towards your bedroom. You shake of your confusion, stumbling slightly towards the common room.

In your seat was Near, his book in his hands, skimming though the pages. When you enter, he looks up, offering one of his strange smiles. "Aren't you excited?" You don't respond as he hands you the book.

Suddenly, all the love you once had for it gone.

---

A/n: Sorry for the lack of L, hope you still enjoyed it.

[jackhues]

❄️ Jack saying "you're all mine, you got that? i'm not sharing."

maybe out one night & someone is trying to hit on you?

Or with family/friends & he is upset he’s getting less attention from you?

hope you like this!

you laughed at nico's description of one of jack's fights. apparently, he'd basically k.o'd one of the players, as if he was wrestling.

you didn't know jack or watch the devils during then, but it was hilarious to hear the stories.

most of the team was having fun telling you embarrassing stories of jack. you were the newest wag, and they had a crazy amount of stories on him.

slowly, the conversation shifted to the christmas dinner and what day everyone would be free to attend.

"i'm free any day if it's for dinner," you confirmed. "not sure about jack, he might have plans with trevor since the ducks are visiting soon. let me ask him."

you turned to look for your boyfriend, finding him sitting on the couch with a sulky look on his face.

"what's wrong?" you asked, nudging his shoulder.

jack shook his head, "nothing."

"jack, what have we said about communication?" you reminded him.

jack got up, taking your wrist and leading you away from the crowd. you let him, knowing it was better to talk in private.

except, he had no plans of talking.

he placed his hands against your waist, walking until you had your back against the wall. before you could get out a single word, he dropped his lips against your neck, sucking and kissing a trail to the underside of your jaw.

you gasped, pushing his head away. "jack, i don't care if you're horny, we're not fucking while your teammates are downstairs!"

jack grinned at the sight of a hickey blooming on your neck.

"you're an asshole," you rolled your eyes, realizing what he'd done.

"you're all mine, you got that?" he cupped your cheek to look in your eyes. "i'm not sharing. with anyone."

---

send a ❄️, player + prompt (CLOSED NOW)