#i keep dragging it out and i mean if i just approached the whole thing all at once i would Never Do Anything ever

[kimmkitsuragi]

microdosing on Responsibility by breaking every task down to very small steps

[pomefioredove]

i just noticed on your 'yuu gets sold' sorta series that there was a good ending, by chance could you do a bad ending one? if not that's totally ok! keep safe and stay healthy ❤️

oh god. I have a very evil idea for this.

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim

summary: a bad (or good, depending on your stance) ending type of post: short fic characters: surprise :) additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is short, HELP

Everyone waits.

The chatter and banter which once occupied the courtyard dies down to dull whispers and foot tapping.

Everyone waits, and there's no Crowley.

"Wonderful," Jamil sighs. "He's probably taken all the money and run off. I told you all that-"

"Maybe he's late!" Kalim shouts. A few in the crowd murmur in hopeful agreement.

Silver coughs. "Maybe he realized this whole thing is ridiculous and is processing everyone's refunds,"

They don't like that option as much.

The sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, threatening to shroud everyone in darkness as the minutes tick on.

"Well, I've had enough of this," Vil says, turning towards the exit. "I've put off my afternoon long enough."

"For once, we can agree on something," Leona murmurs, dragging Ruggie along with him.

No one is exactly surprised with this turn of events- but there's a definite sense of disappointment that everyone is sharing.

"He probably just forgot or 'somethin," Epel says, walking alongside Ace, Deuce, and Jack back to Ramshackle to update you on the happenings.

Jack shrugs. "He's definitely not the most organized, but there's no way someone could just "forget" about this. I think Jamil is right, he probably ran off with the money while he could. The swindler..."

Deuce is the next to add something to the pity party. "And yet, we should've known this was a possibility,"

"Shoulda seen it coming..." Epel murmurs. "I shoulda listened to Vil and pulled out while I still had the chance. Dang it..."

The lights are on in Ramshackle as the four approach, a warm and welcome sight after their disappointing afternoon. And the front door is open- were you expecting them?

"Hm. Well, think of it this way," Ace pushes the door the rest of the way open. "We may have been scammed, but at least nothing changes. I mean, it could've been worse."

"A lot worse," Deuce murmurs, following him inside.

The four make it into the foyer and stop dead in their tracks.

There are many things to expect walking into Ramshackle- cobwebs, dust, ghosts, you- Crowley is usually not one of them.

"You- you've been here this whole time?!" Epel shouts, throwing his arms out. "We were all 'waitin for 'ya like a bunch of idjits!"

Deuce and Ace wince. "Dude, chill... but seriously, where were you?"

Crowley doesn't have the chance to answer before something else steals away their attention.

You walk into the room, suitcase in hand. "Guys?"

The four turn to greet you, eyes wide at the luggage you're carrying. "What's that... Crowley?"

The man himself just stands there, pretending to ponder something. "I could have sworn I sent someone to break the news... how peculiar,"

Epel's brow knots. "What news?"

"A third party somehow got wind of our little... venture and donated a very high sum at the last minute. Along with a very passionately worded letter about our dear prefect's safety here at school," he pauses. "Or lack thereof."

Crowley sighs. "The name rung a bell, but... I couldn't imagine how or why anyone outside of NRC would be following the prefect's moves so closely,"

Deuce's eyes narrow. "Crowley. What are you trying to say?"

"Well, I..." he says, seemingly at a loss for words. "I'm afraid to say that our prefect is being transferred to Noble Bell College,"

[7ndipity]

Friends With Benefits Headcannons

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How they would handle being in a fwb relationship(as well as some of their preferences in bed)

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut. Mentions of oral (m and f receiving), bondage, degradation, marking,

A/N: Could not get this concept to leave me alone while working on requests, so I thought I’d subject you all to my brainrot as well, bc I mean, that’s kinda the point of this blog, right?(sorry not sorry)

Masterlist

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Jin:

Was slightly hesitant when you first brought it up, but quickly came around to the idea. (Might have had feelings for you already, and knows that’s a no-go in these kinds of relationships, but in his mind that just made the shift in dynamic that much easier.)

Starts out really soft and sweet with you, not wanting to shock you or make you uncomfortable, but gets increasingly more intense and kinky as y’all get more comfortable with each other.

Is obsessed with your thighs and holds onto them for dear life when you ride him. Not so secretly loves ‘accidentally’ leaving marks on them.

Wants to be tied up and be used and edged till he’s crying from overstimulation.

So fucking loud in bed, you’ve had to cover his mouth a few times to keep others from overhearing the two of you(turns out he likes that though, as well as choking)

The emphasis in your relationship is still on ‘friends’ tho. Half of the time you hang out with everyone else like normal, but there are those nights when one of you asks under your breath “can you stay after the others leave?”

Lowkey starts getting a little possessive after a bit, fucking you like he’s got something to prove if he catches you looking at someone else. “Saw how you were looking at them. Bet they can’t fuck you this good, yeah? Can’t make you cream like this cock.”

Probably winds up confessing his feelings to you bc of this, but then you admit you’ve been feeling the same way. Turns out you’re just two idiots in love(good for y’all👍)

Yoongi:

Just comes out with it one day when y’all are hanging out, like “You wanna hookup?”

He’s super respectful about it, of course, but there’s a casualness to his approach that makes it easy to talk about. You wouldn’t know this was his first fwb arrangement from the way he acts.(He’s thought about it before, but he’s never actually followed through)

Chronically calls you in the middle of the night, asking if he can come over cause he can’t sleep.

Obviously, he’s Mr. Tongue Technology for a reason. He won’t even put his dick near you until you’ve cum on his mouth at least once, arms hooked around your thighs to keep you right where he wants you.

Surprisingly soft in bed, unless he’s had a really frustrating week, and then he’s pounding into you so hard you can’t walk right the next day, running his mouth the whole time like “Such a pretty little cocksleeve.”

He tends to feel really guilty afterwards though, so his aftercare is god tier. Warm baths and reassuring words, massaging any sore muscles, will even cook for you if you want.

Addicted to kissing you. Will straight up ask you, like “I’m bored, wanna make out?” He’s not content until he’s sucking on your tongue.(might have a slight oral fixation)

I could see him maybe catching feelings? But if he does, you will never know unless you bring it up first, cause he will take that shit to the grave before fucking things up with you.

Hobi:

Oddly enough, I think he would really love this dynamic? Like there’s something just so comfortable about the fact that it’s you and him that makes it easy for him to let go.

When the subject came up, he kinda just went with it, almost out of curiosity, but he very quickly became addicted to feeling of you around him.

Love, love, loves sneaky quickies, dragging you off to the bathroom when you're out with friends, having to be as silent as possible so no one overhears y’all, despite him pistoning himself into you as fast as humanly possible. Knowing you’re going around the rest of the night with his cum leaking out of you makes him crazy.

The term ‘sweet but psycho’ comes to mind, bc you never know which Hobi you’re going to get; The sweet one that kisses and caresses you softly as he rolls his hips into yours, or the dark one that shoves your face down in the pillows as he relentlessly pounds into you from behind.

Has a way of saying the filthiest things so that they’re somehow almost sweet? “You’re my little whore aren’t you? No one else’s, only mine.”

Loves buying you things to you to model/wear for him, mainly lingerie, but it can be anything he saw and thought you’d look cute in(not jewelry tho, he worries about that coming off as too intimate or relationship-y)

Ends up catching feelings, but takes so long to confess that it’s obvious to everyone but him.

Namjoon:

This dynamic would work really well for him, until it doesn’t.

When you first suggested the idea, he was super into it. He has a fear of getting over-attached, so he likes the easy, casual nature of it, but he’s a romantic deep down and that starts to bleed into his actions.

Tends to call you when he’s stressed, fucking all of his frustrations out into you, pounding into you from behind with your face burried in the pillows.

Other times, he’s so soft and tender, kissing and worshipping every inch of you while fucking you so nice and slow you could cry(and you have)

Loves watching you suck him off, real slow and sloppy like, and has invited you to his studio on multiple occasions for the sole purpose of this, cause it’s one of his favorite fantasies.

His other favorite tho is when you pin his hands to the bed and ride him(he’s mentioned it in too many songs to not mention). Watching you take control and use him for your own pleasure drives him wild.

I could see him fucking up and saying I love you during sex, though whether he realizes at the time is debatable.

Jimin:

Neither of you exactly brought it up, things just sort of escalated after a few too many drinks, and suddenly you were on his lap making out.

Once your brains managed to catch up, you kinda sat back like wtf?! But you both admitted you really wanted to continue, so things just kinda progressed naturally from there.

Honestly, It’s so close to dating, idk why y’all don’t just admit you love each other and save the trouble of ‘sneaking around’(Poor Jk has walked in on too many things that he can’t unsee)

Gets off on your pleasure, would happily spend the whole night with his head between your legs if you’d let him.

Needs to keep his mouth busy at all times. Will just come up to you, pouting like 🥺“I want kisses.”

Found out he was into choking by accident while you were riding him once and lost your balance and your hand slipped to his neck and he almost came on the spot. The feeling of you controlling his breath makes him lightheaded in more than one way.

His favorite is when you spoon/sit behind him and jerk him off, one hand on his cock and one hand around his throat, whispering the sweetest filthy things in his ear the whole time.(Call him ‘good boy’ and his knees will buckle)

Taehyung:

Probably brought it up first out of morbid curiosity as you were both talking one night, but was so relieved you said yes.

Y’all are almost more cuddle buddies than anything else bc he just loves casual affection, holding you close, tracing his hands over your skin.

When y’all do have sex though, he’s super intense. Lots of eye contact and deep kisses as he rolls his hips into yours, practically laying on top of you(or you on top of him, he’s not choosey). He just wants to be as close to you as humanly possible.

Likes taking you out on lil dates, even though you told him that’s not quite what fwb’s do, but he doesn’t care. He considers it a form of foreplay, plus he just likes to spoil you.

Really gets off on you marking him up. He loves finding your little masterpieces scratched into his back the next morning and wears them with pride.

One of his favorites tho is watching you fall apart on his fingers, especially while yours are wrapped tightly around his cock.

Has called you multiple times in the middle of the night while jerking off because he cums better to the sound of your voice.

Might end up catching feelings, but it would take him a bit to realize because of the aesthetically romanticized way he views your relationship.

Jungkook:

He was probably the one who brought it up initially, half joking, like “Well, why don’t we just fuck?” But then when you started actually considering it, he was like 😳”holy shit wait really?!”

Honestly, he does quite well with this arrangement, it almost becomes a weekly routine for the two you: you meet up, you hang out/have dinner, you fuck. Sounds like the perfect evening to him, tbh.

He’s actually such a big softie. Loves slow, deep sex where it just hands trailing everywhere, lips on lips, swallowing each other's moans and sighs. (He doesn’t admit it at first, but he loves it when you sleep over so he can hold/cuddle you.)

But he also loves being rough with you, manhandling you into whatever position he wants and pounding into you till you're screaming his name.

(honestly, he probably goes between both styles in the same session)

He has crazy high stamina, so y’all almost always go multiple rounds, not stopping till both of you are absolutely wrecked (“I’m not done yet, understand?”)

Wants you to sit on his face, and I mean sit. He gets so irritated with that hovering bullshit and will pull you down on him. “What, you think I can’t handle it or smth?!”

It wouldn’t be a Jk list if I didn’t bring up his possessive streak, so yeah, don’t let him catch you looking at anyone else, unless you want to not walk properly tomorrow. He doesn’t care that y’all aren't a technical couple, your his and he’s yours.

Taglist:@sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[simplyreveries]

octatrio when a customer is being mean to you

azul ashengrotto

he usually keeps an eye on you throughout the day when working, even if he isn't always around because most of his time is spent in the VIP room swindling students. he'd giving you some sweet smile as he passes by and sometimes ask how everything is going- he considers himself quite lucky to be there to deal with this unpleasant situation.

azul is quickly by your side in a matter of moments as soon as he sees the guy giving even an ounce of irritation towards you. azul gives this blatant, fake, professional smile "oh dear... is there an issue here?" he'd inquire pretending like he really does care what this boy thinks. it's easy to deal with, because he is the manager of the place.

he is good at deescalating the situation and if it really comes down to it he'll bring in someone like floyd or jade to escort them out, that'll end up scaring the living daylights out of them. when they're out of sight he'll sigh shaking his head and adjusting his uniform, muttering how "troublesome" people are. you are the only thing he cared about feeling okay. he shows concern for you, but he still can't help but feel lingering frustration that you were even bothered like that in the first place. he'll tell you if there's a chance he isn't around and that happens again just get floyd or jade :).

jade leech

jade could see this situation happening from a mile away. he is painfully observant and already knew what annoyance this customer was going to bring. he was already lurking beside you ready to swoop in and save you from this guy. standing tall right behind you putting a hand on your shoulder, he'd have a calm and like azul an ever so fake look of concern for the customers wellbeing giving a "my, what seems to be the problem?".

he is so incredibly passive aggressive with the bothersome customer. showing such an unnerving look to them-- jade would actually be quite surprised if they tried to make any more of a scene, knowing who he is to others at school.

so, he manages to deal with the situation very easily. he almost finds the whole thing amusing to him if I'm being honest. chuckling, he'd give a small, graceful look of reassurance "fufu i hope you know not to take these things to heart, (name)." nevertheless, jade always seems to look out for you when he's got shifts with you. he knows how much of a bother some people can be.

floyd leech

he usually finds situations like these almost entertaining when shifts are tedious and boring- though he feels his mood goes sour and annoyed when he sees the guy making you upset and being mean. floyd is probably already next to you when you're approached by him. considering how he likes to annoy you and be clingy on shifts.

seems to have no patience and immediately gets defensive over you... like straight up gives a disgruntled expression and is like "eh? what's your problem?", "ok and?" zero formality. he has no qualms getting in people's face. the customer would most likely 1) completely backing off terrified of floyd or 2) getting even more upset because floyd just retorts back, even teasing him. if anything, it's someone like jade that needs to step in, so he doesn't do something out of line (ok as if jade is really any better???).

floyd will grumble and tell you how much that guy made him pissed off. yet his mood turns a 180 when he tries to cheer you up, he'll drag you claiming it's time for your break AND he'll even cook you up a lunch!!

[tpwrtrmnky]

The problems with the 'infighting' comic

So I deleted the infighting comics. Fundamentally, the reason why is that I think I did a bad job with them. Clearly this wasn't a popular decision, and I did say I'd elaborate on why when I had time, so let's talk about the problem with the infighting comic.

Just to get this out of the way, the problem is not that the 'wrong' demographic liked it, or anything of the sort. What I don't like about the comic, and what keeps coming up, is that the way I frame it and how I execute the attempt at doing something with the never-ending churn of Discourse in the queer community is that it:

Fails to state what I think the problem is. "Infighting" is vague, it can mean basically anything, and unfortunately a very common use of the term is "literally anyone in the community criticizing anyone else in the community for any reason whatsoever." The comic fails to do anything to communicate whether this is the intended reading or not. This is a problem because the most common targets of bad-faith infighting accusations are also the most marginalized in the community, and the fights start as completely unjustified backlash to marginalized people criticizing marginalization.

The comic doesn't sufficiently communicate the intended idea that these are marginalized people with actual problems. The complaints of the characters come off as trivial due to how they are only presented in an oppositional context, with no frame of reference given as to whether their complaints are equally legitimate, whether one of them is right and one is wrong, or whether they're both just saying some nonsense. This is a fundamental flaw in the premise, because depending on which real-life situation the reader assumes it's about, the entire meaning changes. Regardless of what I say I actually intended this is bad enough that by itself, it drags down the whole thing.

The framing that the bigot character doesn't care about the difference between the groups. This only works if you're operating under the assumption that the comic is talking about groups that are routinely conflated by bigots, which at the very least is a detail that should be clearly stated in the premise, not in the second comic, and again leads to a very artificial framing of the supposed "infighting."

The main character being presented as a neutral observer with no stake in the argument themselves is weird.

The follow-ups do very little to address any of the above issues.

The comic is spread over four separate posts, which means even if the above issues were meaningfully addressed, the circulation of parts of the comics without those problems dealt with would continue, with all the problems retained.

There are more criticisms, and I am not going to argue with them because I don't want to defend the comic as I made it. I don't like it. I am tired of seeing the arguments that come from it. I apologize for how it was made, and I will not attempt anything to replace it until I can meaningfully address the problems with it.

There are additional structural problems with the Pills That Make You Green comics that have become more and more apparent as I've kept making them. I think failure to meaningfully address these issues is going to keep causing comics to fail in similar ways, and so I am thinking that a serious change to how I approach these needs to happen if I even want to make them anymore.

[is-nini]

Men who play with your life, knowing they have power, money, and the ability to.

Character: Wriothesley, Geto, Ayato, Nanami, Diluc, Zhongli, all your possessive business big husband<3

Warning: Overstimulation, size kink, yandere-ish behavior, possessive behavior, dumbofication

Started when he notice you being a bit messy then usual.. "Princess, clean up after your play things" you would do it but almost with a pouty lips drag your leg and clean it up. Those are just simple things, because it progresses.

"Did you play with yourself?" He asked almost breathlessly. You shrug and keep watching the television "When I ask you something, you answer it" his eye narrow down at your figure.

You felt the shiver but you try to ignore it, afterall your new friends told you that it's okay to be a little harsh once in a while-it "gave your partner a rush" they say.

He won't let you go with that bratty act of yours. Who taught you to act like that? He always raise you so nicely, so submissive.

He started to track your every single move. After he found out your little friend group that has just been feeding wrong things to you small pretty head. He decided that maybe you are not ready for the big world. Stupid, small girl like you should be protected all times and not be seen by the mean people that are just trying to take you away from him.

Oh well, it seems like it's time to cut you off for a while and remind your place. Who you belong to.

Couple of days after he "Take care" of your friends, he came home to you sitting on the small stair step in front of the front door, your lips are pouty, eyes puffy and face flushes red- oh how he misses that look of yours. It doesn't take a genius to know that you have been crying. Little sniffle pour out as you grasp your phone tight, cute chain dangling softly as your hand tremble.

"What's 'wrong baby?" he feign worry even though he knew exactly what's wrong. "M-my fr-friend-" he hugs you immediately, shushing you "Shh It's okay baby, calm down and we'll talk when you're ready okay?" he picked you up and bring you to the dining table. He sat you down and looked at the food that you have made.

Although he can ask for maid or chef to cook for him but he likes it more if you cook it. You always look so breedable and cute in those little apron while you focus on making a food for him.

He took a soup that you made and pour it to two bowl, feeding you some food himself. He took out your favorite drink from his work bag and put it in front of you. Your eyes immediately lights up and chug the whole drink, quenching your thirst. "Slow down princess" he whisper while playing with your hair lovingly.

After your hiccup dies down and the shine on your eye shimmer in a happier light, he brings it up again, pretending as if he knows nothing and are curious. "I-I want talk" you said. He cooed internally letting you spill what horrible things your "Friends" did to you. "A-and- they are my few friends- now I am alone" you whimper and looked down.

He take the chance to cups your face and smile at you "Baby, you will never be alone. I am here always for you" he took the time to put his hand and softly stroke your hair "B-but when you are working I am alone.." you whine softly. He hums and put his chin on top of your head. "True, it's not fair that I am busy but you're not right princess?" you nod and letting out a small "yes" as you hug him tightly.

The night ended with you hugging him tight like a koala and fell asleep. He pick you up and puts you on the bed. He washes and clean after himself and on he bathroom he got an idea.

The next day you find yourself as usual, engulf in your lovers arm. You slowly wakes up and cleans yourself as you make your way to the kitchen to cook your lover's meal.

Minutes later, the sound footsteps approaches you and a hand wrapped around your waist.

"Good morning my little princess" you can feel his soft smile as he looks over your shoulder. "How cute, my little wife is making a cute bento for me?" You giggle and enthusiasticly say "yes!".

The cute moments doesn't last though, as he place kisses all over your neck, his hand going down, slipping into your short pyjama and rubbing your pussy oh so softly.

You let out small moan and tighten your thighs, trapping his hand. He pulls away and spin your body as you now faces him. The stove are turned off but oh he is so turned on.

Next thing you know, your body was bend over the counter. His trust are hard as you beg for him to slow down but all he's hearing is faster. "A-Ahn! O- Please! Ha- S-slower!slower! Ngah!" he grunt and went faster as he hold your waist tightly. Mouth drooling, eyes seeing starts, tongue out and your breast jiggle up and down as your nipple once in a while graze the cold counter. "Fuck- cute fucking wife. will fill that stomach full huh?" he whisper as he makes sure that his cock stayed for a while inside you before hitting that spot again with hard and sharp thrust.

Your body tremble as it has been your fourth release. You squeal as your pussy clenching around him. His second release fills up your stomach, making you feel so so full. He puts his hand to your stomach, dick bulging out of your stomach. As he presses, he can feel his cock moving in and out and it brings him to his third cum.

Drips of cum are dripping to the pool of your feet. White rim form around his cock which is still on your pussy. He hugged your stomach so tightly, feeling his cum inside your stomach. Your body trembling with your shakey leg.

He kisses your cheek and slowly position you comfortably before picking you up koala style all the while his cock is deep inside.

Big arms protecting you from outsiders, it is dangerous afterall. He slowly lays you down and pulls out his cock, letting the cum flow out. "Ngh - where are you going..." you whine out, feeling the emptiness. He smiles and kisses your lips while softly patting your head.

"I'm going to take care of you baby. No worries" he kisses you once again before you felt a soft sense of tissue graze your skin softly. You hum in content, going back to relaxing.

He smiles at you, looking at your sleeping state before cleaning himself up and preparing the little present for you.

You woke up, feeling cold. You sat up slowly looking for your husband. "H-hubby?" You called out, slowly walking down the living room. "Princess come here" his deep voice makes you walk to him like a magnet "I have a surprise for you".

You immediately perk up and looks up at him. "Y-yes?" You hum, he pulls out a small box with some little hole and gave it to you. "What... Is this?" He sat down while pulling your waist. "open it dear, but becareful, it's sleeping" you ponder on his word while slowly opening the box, revealing a cute kitten sleeping away. Your face break out to a huge smile as you slowly took the kitten, careful as to not startle it.

"You have a friend how princess, so when I go to work, you can be with oscar for a while all the while waiting for me okay?" He softly said. You nodded happily as you kisses the kitten softly.

You may think that you are lucky to have a nice husband - little did you know all the misfortune that befall you is the cause of him.

[goldenempyrean]

Do you think you could write a fic where we’re sick and our work place makes us show up to work, knowing fully well we are sick because we tried to call in but they denied us. Anyways Nat ends up wondering where we are because she came back from a mission and sees that their are utensils and tupperware around and medication bottles and just in general clues that we weren’t feeling well, so she goes to find us because she wants to see us and make sure we’re fine. Only to walk in on one of our managers yelling at us (in a public area) because we were slacking off at “our job” (a task that they told us to do for them but it’s not in our job description) when we were simply putting our head in our hands for a few minutes because we didn’t feel well. Anyways Nat swoops in, saves the day, and the manager miraculously gets fired, and we somehow have a better job.

If you write this thank you :) and if you don’t it’s fine

Too Good To Me

〚 Notes - Hey anon! God, let's not talk about how long this was sitting in my inbox. I wrote this while rewatching supergirl so I may start getting some of my old Alex requests done soon! :D 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Your boss wont let you take a sick day from work. Natasha isn't going to be happy when she finds out. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1620 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“Sorry Y/N, there’s nothing we can do. You’re just going have to suck it up and get yourself into work I’m afraid. We can’t afford any missing staff.” 

“But I-“ Your hoarse objection was rudely cut off by the call clicking off. You stared at your phone in disbelief, a sinking feeling of dread settling in your stomach. The fever was making you lightheaded, and every muscle in your body ached, but you had no choice. You had to go to work today. 

It was ridiculous honestly. Your boss knew you were sick, in fact the whole office was slowly coming down with whatever virus had been circulating. But it was coming to the end on the month meaning deadlines were approaching and it seemed meeting targets was more of a priority than employee wellbeing. 

Dragging yourself out of bed felt like an insurmountable task, but you managed to get dressed and somehow make your way to the office - the only thing keeping you upright was several more doses of DayQuil then the recommended standard. Even though it was short the walk from the parking lot to the front door left you breathless, and by the time you sat down at your desk, a cold sweat had broken out across your forehead. 

“Damn, you look awful.” One of your colleagues looked up over their desk at the sound of a series of sneezes you couldn’t quite hold back. They gave you a sympathetic glance and pulled out a packet of tissues and chucked them over. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled, catching the tissues clumsily. You wiped your nose and tried to focus on your computer screen, but the words blurred together, and your head throbbed with each keystroke. 

Meanwhile, Natasha had been having a fairly good day. Her mission had ended significantly earlier than she’d been expecting meaning she’d get to see you sooner. Of course, the two of you always kept in close contact whenever possible when she had to go on missions, but facetime was nowhere near as good as seeing you in person. 

Nat couldn't wait to surprise you. She had picked up some of your favourite takeout and decided to swing by the apartment. However, as soon as she stepped inside, her smile faded. 

The place was a mess. Not just a few stray cups or plates strewn about. The sink was piled up with unwashed pots. In the living room, the curtains were still pulled closed clouding the room in a dull haze. Meanwhile tissues and cough drop wrappers littered the coffee table amongst several half-empty medicine bottles. 

Nat felt her heart melt a little at the thought of you being sick and alone. Keeping her movements a little quieter now, she crept towards your shared room, pulling open the door carefully. Natasha had expected to see you curled up beneath the blankets, but she frowned and flicked on the light in surprise when all she saw was an empty, unmade bed. 

What the- wait, if you weren’t here then where were you? 

Hunched over, coughing miserably at your desk. That was where. Around midday, your manager approached you with a stack of papers, slamming them in front of you. “I need you to handle these reports. They need to be done by the end of the day,” He ordered, barely sparing a glance to look at you. 

“Sir, I’m really not feeling well,” You began, but he cut you off with a dismissive wave. 

“Not my problem. Just get it done.” He walked off, not willing to waste another moment on you. 

You stared blankly at the stack of papers, the text blurring in and out of focus. As time dragged on, you couldn’t stop yourself drifting in and out of a feverish haze, your productivity taking a swan dive. 

Every so often, you caught your colleagues shooting you concerned glances, but no one dared to speak up. Everyone was aware of the hostile nature of your manager, and no one dared to speak up incase that temper of his was thrown their way. 

Once an hour had passed, you could hardly keep your eyes open. You rested your head in your hands for just a moment, hoping to stave off the waves of dizziness. It was then that your manager reappeared, his face twisted with anger. 

“What do you think you’re doing? Slacking off again?” he barked, drawing the attention of the entire office. Heads turned, and conversations halted as everyone watched the scene unfold. 

“I-I’m just not feeling well,” you stammered, lifting your head to meet his furious gaze. Your vision swam, and you had to blink several times to focus. 

“Excuses! Always excuses with you! If you can’t handle the workload, maybe you should find another job!” 

“Excuse me, what exactly do you think you’re doing?” Natasha’s stern voice cut through the room like a knife. Everyone turned to see her standing in the centre of the room, her posture radiating quiet fury. 

“Scolding an incompetent employee,” Your manager blinked, momentarily taken aback. “And just who do you think you are?” 

“Natasha Romanoff.” She kept a quick pace as she walked towards him, her eyes narrowing, “The Black Widow, Superhero, Avenger and Wife.” 

Your manager's face drained of colour as Natasha's words sank in. He opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out. The entire office watched in stunned silence as she closed the distance between them. 

Nat’s voice remained cold and steady. "If you have a problem with my spouse, you'll answer to me." She turned her attention to you when you ducked into your elbow was a stifled sneeze. 

“Bless you sweetheart,” She murmured softly, swiping a tissue from a box on a nearby desk and handing it to you, “Come on, get your things, we’re going home.” 

You stood shakily, relieved and grateful, but still a bit dazed at how Nat could even be here. The redhead wrapped an arm around your waist, steadying you as you stumbled. "Lean on me baby," She murmured gently. 

Nobody else said a word as the two of you made your way out the building. Once outside the fresh air hit your face, and you took a deep breath, feeling slightly more grounded. Natasha led you to her car, helping you into the passenger seat before getting in herself. 

"Thank you," You murmured, leaning back against the headrest before curling into your side with a harsh cough. 

"Don't mention it sweetheart,” She replied as starting the engine, but you didn’t miss the way her brow crinkled as at the sound of you, “I'm sorry your boss is such a dick. How are you feeling?” 

"Terrible," You mumbled, closing your eyes as you let your head rest against the cool glass window, “I’ve had a fever all day…. But you- you’re meant to be on a mission-“ Your voice was hoarse and cracked as you spoke. 

“I’m not surprised,” Nat raised a hand to your forehead before gently cupping your cheek, “And I finished my mission early, I swung by the apartment and well, you can guess the rest.” She kept one hand on the wheel and the other lightly resting on your knee as she drove. 

The rest of the drive was fairly quiet, Nat didn’t want to force you to talk, and it was obvious from the way your head kept periodically bobbing forward that you were exhausted.  

By the time she’d pulled up to the parking lot, you had dozed off against the window, small stuffy snores letting her know you were out for the count. Of course, it would’ve been easier to wake you, but she just didn’t have the heart. Instead, Nat carefully made her way to the passenger door, unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you safely up into her arms. 

Trying her best to jostle you, Natasha carried you up towards the apartment, opening the door with ease and stepping inside. “Mm?” You gave a groggy mumble as you slowly blinked awake. 

“Shh, we’re home sweetheart.” Nat soothed you quietly, keeping her arm around your waist as she lowered you to be standing up by yourself. 

Your eyes slowly adjusted to the light in the room, and you made an audibly confused noise as you took in the surroundings. The place was spotless. The pots from earlier washed and stacked away. The stacks of tissues and wrappers had been thrown in the trash, the whole apartment looked fresh and clean - nothing compared to the absolute mess it had been several hours ago. 

“You cleaned? You didn’t have to-“ You began but 

Natasha cut you off with a gentle smile, her fingers brushing a stray hair from your forehead. “I wanted to,” she said softly. “You’ve been working hard and dealing with that jerk of a boss while feeling awful. You deserve to come home to a clean space.” 

You leaned into her touch, feeling a wave of gratitude and relief. "Thank you," You murmured again, your voice still raspy as you sniffled quietly. 

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” Nat led you to the bedroom, her arm still securely around your waist. She helped you sit down on the edge of the bed, then knelt to untie your shoes, “Now you best believe I’ll have your manager fired for how he behaved earlier.” 

“You’re too good to me,” You murmured, watching her with tired eyes as you tried to hold back a yawn. 

“You’re my world Y/N,” she replied simply, slipping off your shoes and guiding you to lie down. She pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in with care. “Now get some rest, you need it.” 

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[libraryofgage]

Pirate/Mermaid Steddie One

There is way more mermaid culture world-building than I intended, but that's the fun part lmao

This part discusses injuries, has a mention of mutilation in passing, and involves stitching up a large wound. Nothing is graphic, but there are some descriptions of pain

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future parts!

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't

----

There were a few things Eddie expected from this raid. Gold, of course. Supplies like food, obviously. Some new weapons, surely.

A fucking mermaid? Nowhere near that list of expected things.

And yet, here he stands in the doorway of the raided ship captain's cabin, caught in a staring contest with a merman that's definitely seen better days.

He's stuck in a tiny wooden tub, his tail forced against his chest as the rest of it flops over the edge and trails the floor. His blue-and-green with inexplicable hints of orange scales are dull, too dull, and Eddie is trying really hard to control the sheer rage he feels at the jagged cut that drags down the middle of the tail and through the fin at the bottom. The edges of the wound have crusted over, but it still looks painful, and Eddie knows it was meant to keep the merman from using his tail to escape.

Eddie takes a step into the cabin, ready to just scoop the merman up and take him back to his ship. But he stops when the merman tenses, his entire body somehow becoming more rigid. His hands on the edge of the tub tighten, his sharp nails digging into the slowly rotting wood. He's staring at Eddie like he's some new threat, which seriously is not gonna help with the whole "take the gorgeous merman with incredible hair and alluring brown eyes back to his ship and nurse him back to health" thing.

Eddie freezes and holds his hands up. "Sorry," he says, keeping his voice low and soothing. The merman doesn't relax much, but his nails are no longer digging into the wood. Eddie figures that's a tiny win.

"I'm Captain Eddie of the Corroded Coffin. We didn't expect to find you here, sweetheart."

The nickname just slips out, an unthinking attempt to butter the merman up and an admission of his own thoughts. The merman's eyes narrow, slowly looking Eddie over as though sizing him up.

Eddie lets him, perfectly content with standing still if it means the merman will give him even one iota more of his trust. "That doesn't look very comfortable," he says, nodding to the tub. "Would you like some help?"

The merman relaxes a little more, and Eddie has no clue what he did to cause that. Before he can think too much about it, the merman points to a dresser on the other side of the room, looking at Eddie expectantly.

"You want something from there?"

The merman nods, which tells Eddie he at least understands human language. That doesn't give him any idea if the merman can speak it, though.

He walks over to the dresser and looks at the merman, pointing to each drawer in turn until the merman nods. The fourth drawer is, apparently, the correct one. When Eddie opens it, he finds a small treasure trove. It must be a collection of trophies from the ship captain's previous raids.

A quick glance reveals a gold crown with rubies, several diamond rings, a few silver bracelets with various gemstones along the bands, and a pearl and seashell necklace thrown on top. Eddie knows the merman probably wants that necklace most, but he can't help thinking of a rumor that mermaids like shiny things.

The drawer is full of shiny things.

He hesitates for less than a second before pulling out the entire drawer itself and turning around. "I'm not sure what you want from here," he lies, smiling apologetically at the merman. "Can I come close enough to show you?"

The merman stares at him before slowly nodding once, suspicion practically radiating off of him. Eddie flashes a more genuine smile and slowly approaches, giving the merman enough time to reject his presence. When he's a few steps away, Eddie crouches and tilts the drawer so the merman can see what's inside.

Immediately, the merman reaches out and snatches the pearl and seashell necklace. The gills on the side of his neck flutter slightly as he puts it on, and Eddie wonders if that's a sign of relief. "Was that everything you wanted?" he asks.

The merman glances at him, one hand still lingering on the necklace. He glances down at the drawer again, seeming to argue with himself before reaching out and removing the crown and every bracelet. He carefully slips the bracelets on and clutches the crown in his hands.

"Anything else?" Eddie asks, his tone indulgent. It must be reassuring, though, because the merman looks at him with curiosity more than anything else. It's like he's trying to figure out what he can get away with.

A few seconds pass before the merman glances down at the drawer. His gaze lingers at the edges, and Eddie starts to wonder what could possibly be there when the merman points at one of his rings.

Eddie blinks, following the merman's finger to a chunky ring. It's shaped like a bat with emeralds for eyes and diamonds for teeth. It's one of Eddie's favorites; he found it on his first raid, took it right off the captain's hand himself. Nobody has ever dared ask to touch it, let alone have it.

Without a second thought, Eddie puts the drawer down, slips the ring off his finger, and offers it to the merman. It sits in the palm of his hand, meaning they'd have to touch if the merman really wants it that badly.

Slowly, the merman reaches for the ring, his nails tickling against Eddie's palm as he takes it. From the light brush against Eddie's fingers, the merman's skin is cool, exactly like jumping into the ocean on a hot day.

----

Steve is a firm believer in the power of small comforts, especially as it relates to the growth of his guppies. Dustin has long outgrown his baby tail belt, but he still wraps it around his wrist every morning. El and Will no longer need the seaweed and coral dolls Steve made for them when they were barely able to swim a straight line, but they still tuck them in every night.

So, when the human (Eddie, Steve reminds himself) offers up a drawer filled with shiny jewelry, Steve doesn't hold himself back. The bracelets make him feel grounded, the crown gives him something to clutch without the risk of breaking it, and the ring...

Well, the ring was more to see if Eddie's actions would match his tone. And because Steve thought it was fascinatingly grotesque. What kind of creature would have wings without feathers? Sure, the gulls he sometimes sees near the surface are confusing, but the ring depicts something even further beyond his imagination. What's up with the sharp teeth? Why must the eyes be green? Does it know it's a freak of nature?

Anyway, the jewelry helps. Steve uses it to distract himself from the sheer agony screaming from his tail when Eddie lifts him out of the cramped tub. He thinks about which bracelet he'll give to which guppy (Robin will get the crown) when the edges of his tailfin graze against Eddie's legs as he confidently walks across a plank connecting the two ships. He closely studies the featherless wings on the ring to avoid thinking about what's to come when Eddie sets him down on a large, surprisingly comfortable bed in another private cabin and starts gathering a needle and thread.

There's not much left to distract him when Eddie kneels next to the bed and looks up at him, his eyes reminding Steve of his guppies when they've done something bad and need him to clean up the mess.

"This is gonna hurt," Eddie tells him, his voice soft and gentle and full of regret as he grabs a bottle from the table next to the bed.

The liquid inside is clear, and Steve would think it was water if his nose hadn't been hit with such an astringent scent when Eddie opened it. Before he can fully process the smell, Eddie tips the bottle and pours the liquid onto Steve's tail.

An involuntary screech rips out of his throat, a burning sensation clawing along the cut and making his scales buzz. Without thinking, Steve grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks it away, his lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals sharp teeth. Despite the physical pain, Steve thinks the worst part is that he let himself get distracted by small comforts and warm brown eyes and Eddie's soft voice.

He should know better.

"Shit," Eddie mutters, quickly dropping the now-empty bottle to the floor. It cracks but doesn't break, and he looks up at Steve. "I should've explained that better. Holy fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I had to clean it. If I sewed it up without doing so, it might get infected."

Steve narrows his eyes, his grip tightening briefly as he studies Eddie's face. He seems genuinely apologetic, and Steve understands his intentions once he's processed Eddie's words. Steve had to do something similar when Mike and Lucas bothered a shark too much. Their wounds weren't nearly as bad as Steve's, but they'd still cried and shouted when Steve and Robin had to pull teeth and bits of coral out of their wounds before wrapping them in seaweed.

"I'm done with that part, though," Eddie says, his voice practically desperate for Steve to understand. "You can squeeze my shoulder or something while I sew it up."

A few seconds pass before Steve nods once, slowly letting go of Eddie's wrist. As Eddie starts threading the needle, Steve places his hand on his shoulder, bracing himself for the upcoming pain by squeezing the crown in his other hand.

Eddie takes a deep breath as he glances up at Steve. He licks his lips, looking back at the top of the cut. "Okay, I'm starting now," he says, waiting long enough to see Steve nod before starting the first stitch.

The alcohol hurt. The stitching is a fucking bitch. But, honestly, none of it is as bad as when that first disgusting human dragged a dagger through Steve's tail. He still hisses, gripping Eddie's shoulder tighter and unable to stop his nails from digging into his skin. Despite how it must hurt, Eddie doesn't flinch, and Steve feels a little better.

"You know," Eddie says, mostly focused on keeping his hand steady and his stitches even, "I wish I knew your name. I can't keep calling you sweetheart."

He could. Steve wouldn't mind it. But he also knows it isn't entirely fair that Eddie doesn't know he can speak. They'll need to be able to talk, Steve thinks, if they're going to be around each other for a while longer.

And Eddie has been kind enough that Steve wouldn't mind being around him for however long it takes his tail to heal.

"Steve," he says.

To his credit, Eddie doesn't drop the needle. He does tense for a moment, his hand pausing as he looks up. "What?" he asks.

"My name. It's Steve."

"You can talk."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Eddie hums, looking back at the cut as he starts stitching again. "You didn't say anything before," Eddie says.

"The last human who saw me mutilated my tail," Steve replies.

"Fair. Is, uh, is your name really Steve?"

"That's the closest translation to your language."

"What's your name in your language?"

Steve hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat. He feels his gills flutter, trying to create the bubble pattern that accompanies his name as he lets out a rhythmic series of squeaks and clicks with a short hiss at the end.

A few seconds pass after he's done. And then Eddie nods once and says, "Steve it is. How'd you get caught, Stevie?"

Ignoring the slight urge to point out that Eddie said his name wrong, Steve frowns slightly. "One of my guppies got caught in that ship's net. I got them out but was caught myself."

"One of your...guppies?"

"Yes. You would call them...children, I think?"

Eddie has nearly reached the middle of Steve's tail by now, and his hand falters once more. "Children? Aren't you...a little young?"

Steve bristles, glaring at Eddie. He's heard that same question plenty of times from members of other pods before, and he's tired of it. "What does it matter if they are happy and healthy?" he asks.

"Sorry," Eddie whispers, glancing up at Steve. There's something he can't quite read in Eddie's eyes. "Do you raise them alone?"

"What? No, of course not. My partner, Robin, raises them with me. We have seven guppies, with an eighth on the way."

"An eighth?!" Eddie asks, sounding strained as he pauses his stitching once more to look up at Steve. "Shit, man, shouldn't you give Robin a break?"

Steve blinks, tilting his head slightly. "Why would she need a break?" he asks.

"She's already popped out seven!"

Suddenly, Steve realizes what the disconnect is. He blinks once more and dissolves into laughter. "Oh!" he says, the exclamation broken by a giggle as he tries to calm himself down. "No, no, she is my partner, not my mate. Besides, she doesn't even like mermen."

Eddie seems to relax at Steve's explanation, his shoulders dropping and his voice significantly lighter as he starts stitching again and says, "Oh, I see. Then whose kids are they?"

"Technically, they belong to the pod," Steve explains, gritting his teeth as Eddie reaches the tailfin. He feels warm all over, his nerves jumping and his scales feeling half-ready to just fall off. "Each pod has at least two caretakers. Mates have a guppy and let caretakers raise them while they focus on their own roles within the pod."

"Do you like being a caretaker?"

"Yeah," Steve says, managing a shaky smile despite the tugging on his tailfin and Eddie's fingers pressing against his scales. "They're my guppies. I'd drain the oceans for them."

"And, uh, what about your mate? Do they mind you being so...devoted to the guppies?"

It's not at all subtle, but Steve finds it oddly endearing nonetheless. He slowly exhales, forcing himself to loosen his grip on Eddie's shoulder. "I don't have one."

Just like before, Eddie seems to relax some at the answer. He also finishes stitching, tying off the thread with a secure knot before carefully cutting away the excess. "Well, uh, we'll get you healed up and back to your guppies as soon as possible," he says, looking up at Steve.

"It needs to be wrapped in kelp. And, uh, I'll need a tub. You know, with seawater."

Eddie nods along, flashing a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, Stevie, I'll get you anything you want," he promises.

"Anything?" Steve asks, leaning forward some as he tilts his head.

"I already gave you my favorite ring, sweetheart."

Steve glances down at said ring, wondering what about it could possibly make it Eddie's favorite. He can't immediately figure it out, but that doesn't change the sweet warmth and anticipation for the time he'll spend with Eddie that he suddenly feels.

[igotanidea]

Reveal: Damian Wayne x reader

part 6 of "Family rules" series.

Warning: dark themes, domestic violence.

***

One thing was sure.

She was avoiding him.

Taking it to such extreme that the second he was showing up at the other side of the corridor, ready to approach her and maybe have a talk, she was just spinning on her heel, moving exactly the opposite direction.

And Damian was starting to feel like a fool.

And if there was one thing that he didn’t like was being made a fool out of.

Under any other circumstances, he would just drop the whole thing, say some harsh, hurtful words and move on, being the same cold and seemingly emotionless person he used to, but –

There was no way she could hide the fact that her eyes were always searching for him.

In the class, when she thought he wasn’t looking.

At the recess, when she was reading a book in the corner, not really focusing on the lecture.

When they were leaving school after whole day of classes.

She was looking at him.

And though it may have been an illusion, there was something in those e/c orbs… Almost as if she was asking for help, perhaps?

This was suspicious and a little bit concerning.

And got even more concerning when he started noticing her showing up at school with bruises. Not just the I-fell-of-the-bike feigned ones, but tiny yet serious marks, that anyone who was not Robin, would probably miss.

And every day, there were new.

***

“Y/L/N” he sprang up in front of her completely out of nowhere, startling her and thus preventing her from escaping.

“Ah! Wayne!”

“What’s with the bruises?” Damian was not exactly known from his subtleness, cutting straight to the case.

“The what now?” she scoffed, playing off but instinctively fixing her hoodie so it would cover her better.

“The bruises. I saw some on your… um… midsection and –”

“Midsection?” Y/N repeated with a bit of shock in her voice and eyes “Wait.. How- How exactly did you notice them there? Shit, Wayne, have you been watching me?! Are you a creep now!?”

Damian could not help getting a little reddened at the accusation in her tone.

“No! I mean – come on, we have the same sports hall and we share PE classes! It’s really not too hard to notice when focused and –“

“You were focused on me!?”

This conversation was taking a turn Damian did not plan nor expect.

“Stop stalking me!”

“I am not stalking you! I just want to know what is going on!” he grabbed her forearm, causing her to hiss in pain. Clearly, she had another fresh injury there. “Apologies…”

“Save it, Wayne!” she yanked herself free. “Just leave me the hell alone! It would be better for everyone …” her voice faltered a little at the end and she gave him the same sad look that was chasing him everywhere for the past few weeks.

“Y/N…”

“I’m serious Damian…”

Neither of them realized that they switched into using each other’s names instead of last names.

“I just want to know where did that teasing smile I knew go…” he whispered, allowing himself a very rare moment of vulnerability, resorting to every measure to help him help her.

 “Things have changed… There’s not much you can do about it…” she responded in the same hushed tone, keeping those (scared?) eyes on him. Only for a second though, before putting her defenses up again. “Just – just stay the hell away from me!”

And with that words, leaving him stunned and confused she ran away again.

Only that this time, Damian knew something was wrong.

And he was about to find out what.

***

 “And she just called you a creep?!” Dick laughed quietly “Damn, I like her already.”

He and Damian, in their respective vigilantes versions were hidden on the tree outside Y/N’s house, observing carefully everything that was happening inside. And Damian hated every minute of the presence of his older brother. And partially feeling a hell lot of self-loathing due to the fact that Dick tricked him into joining the patrol. Using the moment of Damian’s distraction and a mix of emotions, skillfully dragging information about his state, manipulating the situation.

“Shut up, Nightwing you will blew our cover!”

“Who, me? Never. I’ve been doing this for way longer than you Robin, shall I remind you.”

“I’m gonna kick you off this tree, I swear—”

“I’m an acrobat, I will land perfectly.” Dick grinned, seriously getting on his brother’s nerves.

“Will you be quiet?” Damian hissed again “There she is!”

“You know there are so many other ways to tell a girl you like her—” Grayson teased again, but the joke died on his lips as soon as he watched the scene unfolding in front of his – or rather their- eyes.

“What the—“

“Oracle, do we have a sound from a wiretap?” the anger was clear in Damian’s voice, but for some  reason he kept calm, addressing Babs to gather every information he needed before moving to action. And it would be admirable if Dick didn’t know that his brother holding back emotions would backfire on everyone. Especially the man, they were observing.

And that was actually bad.

***

“Well? Did you do what I asked of you?”

Y/N’s father was sitting in the living room, slowly sipping some drink, smirking almost vengefully when she came inside the house, with a futile hope she wouldn’t be noticed.

“No.” her tone was harsh and full of defiance, but as much as she tried to put on a brave face, her eyes and paleness were revealing everything.

“Such a shame, honey. I offered you a simple deal—”

“I am not making any deals with you!”

“Shall I remind you then what happens if you are a bad girl?”

“Oh you remind me very well, all right?!” she yelled taking a step forward “for your information the people at school are starting to ask about my bruises, so I hope you are fucking proud of yourself!”

Y/N barely made it to the end of the sentence when a hard slap on her face cut her off.

“You little ungrateful brat!”

“I hate you!”

“You were just supposed to use that little Wayne to get information of his father’s company!”

“I won’t do that!”

“There’s really no use of you, is there?” her father twisted her wrist painfully.

“STOP IT!”

“I’m gonna give you one last chance.” The grip on her wrist tightened and Y/N’s father’s hateful hiss hit her ears “Tomorrow, you are going to charm that little son of Wayne and get me the info of their newest development. Otherwise – “

“You’re my father!” she cried out in the last attempt to calm him

“And that’s exactly why you are obligated to do what I tell you. Now, go to you room and don’t you dare leave. And if I find out you told anyone about it-“

She rushed off before he finished, holding back tears, that only flew in the safety of her room.

***

“Damian?” Dick started to get a little worried about his brother’s almost catatonic stare. “Damian, are you--?”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m pretty sure that is what Jason –”

“I am going to kill him!”

“Whoa!” in the last second Dick grabbed Damian’s cape holding him back, skillfully avoiding all the punches and kicks Robin tried to give to free himself. “Come on, we gotta be smart about it!”

“I don’t care about smart! She’s hurt and –”

“And if we just bust there, that beast of a man would think she had something to do with it. Come on, Damian, think.”

“I want to rip his heart out for ever hurting her! And why –” his voice became depressed. “because of me… Because she refused to use me for information. Now I get why she was avoiding me …”

“Seems to me like you do care about that girl, aren’t you, Damian?”

“This is none of your business!”

“Yeah, it’s not. But an innocent girl being treated like this is definitely Nightwing’s one. Now, if you could just calm down a little and listen to me – I got a plan.”

I know it's a bit short, I;m getting back to the swing after my hiatus XD

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[genderkoolaid]

Examples of transandrophobia: i've seen sections of Leslie Feinberg's piece "Sisterhood: Make it Real" passed around this site for literally years, and TODAY was the first time that I saw the whole thing and learned that ze called out cisfeminists in it for getting rid of trans men the second they started transitioning. Like I always thought it was a good piece but I had literally NO IDEA that it talked about trans men because that part was never included in posts about it, even when those posts were calling out cisfeminism for being transphobic. I'm just gobsmacked tbh

This is a great point!

Honestly more people need to read that full chapter. There's a lot of really good points.

Amongst other things, Leslie talks about how "women good men bad" is poor feminism:

Of course, as a result of the oppression women face growing up in such a violently anti-woman environment, some women draw a line between women as allies and men as enemies. While it’s understandable that an individual might do so out of fear, this approach fails as theory. It lumps John Brown and John D. Rockefeller together as enemies and Sojourner Truth and Margaret Thatcher together as allies. This view of who to trust and who to dread will not keep women safe or keep the movement on course.

How feminine men are victims of gender oppression:

The oppression of feminine men is an important one to me, since I consider drag queens to be my sisters. I’ve heard women criticize drag queens for “mocking women’s oppression” by imitating femininity to an extreme, just as I’ve been told that I am imitating men. Feminists are justifiably angry at women’s oppression - so am I! I believe, however, that those who denounce drag queens aim their criticism at the wrong people. This misunderstanding doesn’t take gender oppression into account. For instance, to criticize male-to-female drag performers, but leave out a discussion of gender oppression, lumps drag queen RuPaul together with men like actor John Wayne! RuPaul is a victim of gender oppression, as well as of racism.

How masculine women are assumed to know less about gender oppression:

But I grew up very masculine, so the complex and powerful set of skills that feminine girls developed to walk safely through the world were useless to me. I had to learn a very different set of skills, many of them martial. While we both grew up as girls, our experiences were dissimilar because our gender expressions were very different. Masculine girls and women face terrible condemnation and brutality including sexual violence - for crossing the boundary of what is “acceptable” female expression. But masculine women are not assumed to have a very high consciousness about fighting women’s oppression, since we are thought to be imitating men.

And as you said, how trans men deserve access to women's and lesbian's spaces without having their transmasculinity ignored or seen as being butch-in-denial:

And our female-to-male transsexual brothers have a right to feel welcome at women’s movement events or lesbian bars. However, that shouldn’t feed into to misconception that all female-to-male transsexuals were butches who just couldn’t deal with their oppression as lesbians. If that were true, then why does a large percentage of post-transition transsexual men identify as gay and bisexual, which may have placed them in a heterosexual or bisexual status before their transition? There are transsexual men who did help build the women’s and lesbian communities, and still have a large base of friends there. They should enjoy the support of women on their journey. Doesn’t everyone want their friends around them at a time of great change? And women could learn a great deal about what it means to be a man or a woman from sharing the lessons of transition.

Not that "trans women belong in feminism" wouldn't be a good point on its own, but people's selectivity with which parts of that chapter they share definitely warrant scrutiny.

[kittyoncescribbled]

“I can teach you if you’d like.”

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Summary: Sanji finds out you’ve never been kissed, and he’s a very eager teacher;

Word count: 1.6K;

Rating/Content Warnings: PG-16, AFAB reader;

Author’s note: Can you tell I was scared of writing actual smut?

Kissing Sanji was a mistake.

Ever since that night, you just couldn’t stop thinking about him; sometimes, you daydream about it, wishing to drag Sanji by the collar to a secluded area and have another lesson with him. It was embarrassing, really; Zeff would scold you on a daily basis, as you were frequently seen in the kitchen holding a knife in the air or burning the very expensive cut of meat a client had ordered just because you couldn’t forget the feeling of Sanji’s lips on yours.

One time, Sanji was preparing a dish right next to you, and the way his perfume seemed to envelop you got you so distracted that you ended up with a cut on your left thumb and an earful from Zeff about not being an airhead. But was it your fault if the combination of expensive cologne and cigarettes was so enthralling? 

And to add insult to injury, Sanji seemed to be ignoring you — not exactly ignoring you, but more pretending like nothing happened between the both of you. He had even turned down the flirting and was treating you like one of the guys. You had to admit that it hurt, thinking that Sanji seemed unaffected by the whole thing while you couldn't get it off your mind; you wanted it to mean as much to him as it did to you, but honestly, giving that Sanji had his way with so many women before and this was merely a kiss, you couldn’t expect it to be so important to him as it was to you.

But still, it was enough to keep you awake in your cabin at night, pacing back and forth like an entrapped lioness, fighting the urge to stomp your feet like a little child. You had been all set up to bed: in your most comfy pajamas, hair tied up in a bun and skincare routine done, teeth were brushed, and you had a pair of soft socks on, but you were so aggravated by the situation you just couldn’t sleep. Eventually, you had enough, and before you could realize what you were doing, you found yourself at Sanji's door, knocking at a very fast pace.

Sanji opened the door in his pajamas, clearly confused as you passed by him and planted yourself in the middle of the room, tapping your feet furiously and tightly with your arms crossed. The blond looked at you with confusion printed all over his features and opened his arms as if to ask what was happening, letting the door close softly behind him. His cozy night, involving curling up in bed with a book under the dim light he had set up and some scented candles, was clearly canceled. You were distressed, and he would know about it whether he wanted to or not.

“Was I really that bad?” you asked, with a mix of hurt, indignation, and shame tinging your voice. Sanji tilted his head and furrowed his brows, even more confused. “Sorry, sweets, but I’m not following. What are you talking about?”.

Almost involuntarily, you pouted, and Sanji could see a shift in your demeanor. Not confrontational anymore, you seemed embarrassed, and Sanji could see your cheeks getting flushed. “You know… was I that bad? I know you were my first, but I couldn’t have been that bad… right?”

The vision of you all flustered, mindlessly tugging at the hem of your shirt and chewing on your bottom lip, had his heart aching. He never wanted to see you feeling inadequate, let alone be the cause of it. “I’m very sorry if I made you feel that way, Y/N,” he said, approaching you very carefully. “I just thought that’s what you’d want… you’ve never wanted to get involved with any of us, so I just concluded you wouldn’t want me to be all over you”.

Sanji was now less than a couple inches away from you, his voice barely audible, his fingertips ghosting over the few strands of hair that had escaped from your scrunchie, and his eyes locked into yours, the blue irises slowly disappearing as his pupils grew wider. Your lips parted, feeling your heart beating faster and a rush of adrenaline running through your veins; too shy to look up at Sanji directly, you peeked at him through your eyelashes, taking in the look of hunger in his expression. “Just give me the order, sweetheart, and we can continue with your lesson because trust me… I haven't been able to get it out of my mind”. 

You felt a whole swarm of butterflies in your stomach; your heart felt like it was going to explode. Unable to verbalize exactly what was in your mind, you simply nodded while shyly grabbing at Sanji’s sleeve. Slowly, Sanji’s hands made their way to your waist, pressing his body against yours; he was very aware that you were still finding out your boundaries, and he didn’t want to scare you or impose himself. “But we need to have some ground rules… and the first one is that if you’re uncomfortable, you need to tell me, ok? If you don’t feel like doing something or want me to stop, I want you to say it to me”. You nodded eagerly, feeling your heartbeat so fast it seemed like it would jump out of your chest.

Sanji cupped your face in his hands, studying your eyes and making sure you were still on board. “Sorry, sweetie, just a nod won’t do. Be a good girl and use your words.” You parted your lips, mustering up the courage and pretending to ignore the flush of blood that went straight to your cheeks. “Please, Sanji… I need you to kiss me”.

Even though he wanted to grab your face and finally let out the pent-up desire he had been fostering for so long, Sanji managed to compose himself; slowly, he lowered his face until your lips were touching, and a low moan left your parted lips. You had your fingers clutching harder onto his sleeve, trying to pull him as close as you could, and Sanji couldn't contain a smirk when he realized your eagerness. After all, you made yourself as unavailable as possible for so long that it felt like a hazy dream to have you there, in his bedroom, timidly exploring his torso over his pajamas and producing little soft moans that were enough to make his nose bleed.

Slowly, Sanji guided you to his bed; you felt the mattress at the back of your knees and timidly crawled making your way to the pillows. You looked up at Sanji, chewing on your bottom lip, silently asking for guidance. The cook’s smile softened while he positioned himself on top of you, wavy blond strands of hair tickling your face. “It’s okay, princess. You just relax, and I’ll take care of everything,” he said in a low voice, peppering light kisses all over your face. Your eyes fluttered shut while a smile tugged at the corner of your lips, overwhelmed by Sanji's presence, the perfume that lingered on his sheets, his lips all over your face and neck, and his strong hands grabbing at your waist, leaving a fiery trail where his fingers dragged into the patches of skin where your shirt had ridden up had your brain in a haze, allowing yourself for once to trust someone else and letting them take the reigns.

Working in a male-dominated restaurant made you distrustful and unable to display anything that could be mistaken for weakness, even remotely; you knew that if you gave any of the guys an inch, they’d take a mile, so you made a conscious decision to make yourself as distant and unavailable as possible. Sometimes, the guys would make fun of you for being a Strong Independent Woman as you never let any of them take the lead; letting go so someone else could take control was scary but, at the same time… freeing.

Sanji pressed his body on yours, and you could feel his cock against your thigh, and you blushed, your fingers interlocked in his hair, pulling him incredibly closer. Sanji’s hand made its way under your shirt, finding the doughy flash of your tits and expertly rolling your nipples between his fingers. You gasped, giving him a chance to attack your neck and collarbones with kisses and love bites; you felt like your brain had turned into cotton, an overload of sensations taking over you in a delirious way.

In one swift movement, Sanji managed to remove your shirt, exposing your naked torso to his hungry eyes and wandering hands. Sanji captured your left nipple between his lips, his hot tongue making you whimper; the cook couldn't stop the cocky smile that twisted his lips as he rejoiced, knowing he was the only one who was able to hear those sweet little noises.

Without thinking, Sanji's fingers went to your pants' waistband, and he was startled by your hand grabbing his wrist. When Sanji redirected his gaze to your face, his blood went cold: your eyes were big, not hooded or glassy anymore, and you had an almost scared look on your face.

“Can we… Can we stop for now?”

The blond stopped, immediately looking for your shirt. Sanji helped you get dressed and planted a kiss on your brow. He pulled you under the covers and allowed you time to get comfortable—you were cuddled up against his side, first balled up with the blanket pulled against your cheek.

There was no need to rush. There would be plenty of time for him to show you new things.

[angstics]

Highlights from the AJ Pen webcast on the My Chemical Romance Foundations Tour set and lighting design book:

“[Gerard Way] was the most- he was the one that I was interfacing with most to come up with this design. Although the rest of the band did have their own say in one way or another. And he in his other life is a comic book author who wrote the Umbrella Academy. So I did a deep dive into comic books to sort of, understand his world a bit more. And I thought I'd throw a little nod to the comic book world with this sort of cartoonish call-out box [in the design book].”

“This picture from a Nine Inch Nails show is something that Gerard sent me. And he was, when he was asking me to make the color palette look washed out and not necessarily all bold colors, he wanted it to sort of have a sense of being weathered.”

“We took an approach where each song had its own kind of color and it wasn't just one color across all of the lights. We'd take groups of lights, randomize the selection set over the whole rig, and then sort of stretch that make the colors in a neighborhood.”

“That drape is actually black. That's lit with just four or five Mac ultras to give it this lovely red color.”

“Thank you to Gerard Way for working so directly with me on the creative for this project. And then the rest of the band, Ray, Mikey, and Frank, they all had their own say and their own take on this project. And it was a very collaborative effort with me and the band.”

“One cool thing about this band is they play, they're analog. They just play. The drummer listens to a metronome that's just coming off his iPad. So there's no time code. There's no reference. All I know is that more or less they're going to be playing at the same tempos. Although sometimes he would shut off mid song because he would push and pull the tempo bottom style.”

“I will say that for this band the drummer that plays with them didn't chart on most of the records... And he likes to try to really recreate what each drummer that tracked the records was doing.”

"We didn't have any video content to play. Other than there were a few things that our video director, Robbie came up with to mix in with the IMAG. So we did carry IMAG screens and he did mix in a little bit of content, but for the most part, it was basically IMAG and a set on stage.”

“The reason that this set worked without like, a bunch of video screens on stage really well for this band was they never played the same set list twice. And I don't mean that they just had a set list that they had a couple of songs they'd swap out. I had to plead with them to keep the first song to be the same so that we could drop the Kabuki in the same place every day.”

“So once that first song was out of the way, they literally crumpled up the set list from the night before, threw it out... And that's why this sort of set design approach worked. The band would tell their own story because they know their music. I never had a set list feel like it was dragging or wasn't telling the story in some way of what's within their music. They know how to rearrange things and we just programmed each song so that it would stand on its own and work no matter where it ended up in the set list.”

Watch the webcast here! Take a look at the book here!

[miyacults]

begging on my hands and knees for a sequel to the daddy gojo fic but w sugu please please please

a/n: my dear nonnie this is less than u actually deserve but i hope it fuels the stsg daddy agenda im pushing here.

violet, blue, green, red to keep me out… i win.

( ft. suguru geto. )

Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.

< part one.

wc: 3k (proofread? probably not)

cw: [ 18+ explicit content minors dni ] technically this is part two of a gojo fic (linked above) but can be read individually so no biggie. fem reader (female bodied). teacher!suguru meaning he did not deflect here okay, we’re living a happy life away from the pain. first one was gojo action so this is for geto action only but poly satosugu is clearly implied, that’s the whole point of this basically hehe. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be very careful! minimal to no prep. unprotected sex. p in v sex. mentions of blood. mentions of death. these two pamper reader too much so reader’s a little spoiled but in the good way. geto is a sweet pretty much. if i forgot anything to put here lemme know. enjoy! <3~

From time to time, Suguru wonders about his soul in genuine distress. Perhaps out of guilt and worry and only in moments like these—well past midnight with bloodied nuckles and heavy footsteps echoing through thin walls, dragging himself up the stairs of the palatial home he and Satoru bought together, with nothing but a familiar sense of anxiety building in his chest. But it’s not like his personal cup of remorse is filled with all the haunting thoughts of the bad things he has done and seen in his life thanks to his sinister line of work, or as if such awful thoughts could actually pull some strings within his untainted heart—because that’s far from being the case.

It’s just—it’s just who he is. The blessing and the curse of being a Sorcerer, of swallowing venom as a whole to save the lives of those who live an ignorant bliss.

White marble stains in scarlet as he approaches his bedroom in silence, mind reflecting on the fact that things should be good now, that everything’s fine and danger has been erased. Any man in love would have handled the situation in the exact way he did, wouldn’t they? He wonders about this, too, quite frequently, and he hates to admit that the question lingers on his brain for far too long for his own liking. It makes him dread the fact that he’s not doing a good job in taking care of you.

Yet it doesn’t matter, as Suguru already knows the answer better than anyone—and he doesn’t qualify much for the kind-hearted-person term (or so he’s been thinking since the last blossom of his youth and the tragedies that showered his naive teen years catches him off guard). But he really doesn’t want to either, because then that would mean that he can’t successfully protect the thing he cares about the most in the world. And he can’t let that happen.

But the look Satoru shoots at him as soon as he opens his bedroom door and finds him sitting comfortably in the wide couch—awaiting his return, as usual—has him breathing correctly again, mind turning back from unwanted ideas that bother him to no end.

“You got busy tonight, huh,” Satoru murmurs quietly, head lolling to the side while scanning his best friend’s tired figure.

“I took care of the scum,”

“And didn’t invite?”

Suguru’s lips turn into a devious smirk, heavy body finally falling between the many soft pillows his large bed has.

“Princess was so upset, needed you to stay by her side,” he resolves quite calmly, dried blood forcing a horrid contrast to his charming features. “If I’m not there to hold her, then you must,”

There’s a silent warning to his words, and Satoru doesn’t have to make an effort to catch it immediately. He already knows it by heart, he always has—he always will.

“She couldn’t stop crying for over an hour anyway,” he ends up retorting sharply instead, hoarse voice weighing a tone of suppressed anger. “Hope you gave the bastard a merciless death,”

How couldn’t he after what he did to you?

The day had started quiet, tranquil—the week itself abnormally peaceful for them. Maybe it was the fleeing summer coercing the unpleasant job of Sorcerers into days of calm, long work hours slowing down and making them believe they couldn’t relax a little bit. So they decided that it would be a good idea to take you to that new coffee shop in Shinjuku you were dying to go lately. And it was fine, of course, you were incredible happy to be outside the walls of home as you hold hands with both them in a sea of smiley people.

Until it wasn’t.

That desolated look on your face when you found yourself trapped into the arms of some Curse User seeking vengeance towards them—Suguru memorized it, because it caused him some undescribable pain he couldn’t possibly explain even if he tried to. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at the sight of gleaming tears drying in your cheeks and the sound of broken sobs, garbled whimpers of their names coming out of parted lips as you held onto nothing for balance, unable to stop yourself from breaking down at the fear, the horror, the trepidation it forced your body into a shock.

He couldn’t prevent what happened after they took you back and he tried to calm you down by placing you in Satoru’s lap, hurriedly murmuring something about making it right. It’s gonna be okay, princess, you’re gonna be okay. He won’t hurt you ever again. I’m here to protect you.

Maybe—just maybe—you heard the strained tone that bathed his words in that moment. And maybe you didn’t understand it right away, or maybe you didn’t want to.

Because Suguru has always been there to make things right, and nothing else has to matter when he and Satoru are there to protect you from the dangers of the world.

Like they have devoted themselves to do.

Suguru doesn’t remember the exact time you came into his life—he doesn’t really care to, because he knows you’ve pretty much always been there. He has no idea where do his memories begin or end at, but the teary-doe look of your face has been plaguing the tissues of his brain for so long now he can’t find himself to remember a time where it hasn’t been there.

He remembers his first day at Jujutsu High, during the spring of him being fifteen and you a little less than that, when he saw you adverting everyone’s gaze as you walked behind your mother (an assistant director, of all things) towards the offices in silence—floral dress wrinkly as you seated in some chair and patiently waited for your mom to finish off her work. No complaints but with a huge pout, bored to death.

He remembers the first time Satoru made you cry by telling you you were a weak nuisance (and how he shortly laughed at that), and he remembers the sickening feeling of nausea that infected his stomach shortly after—and he remembers how it didn’t disappeared until he handed you a beverage from the machines and you smiled at him like none of them ever harmed you in the first place.

He remembers you admiring your mother’s ivory dress the day she married principal Yaga, and he remembers the way he took your hand into his to give you a little bit of courage as you and Satoru walked down the aisle side by side, carrying the rings of the newlyweds.

He remembers the winter of Satoru’s eighteenth birthday, when the white-haired man accidentally dropped a box full of the school’s Christmas decorations over you, making you trip down the stairs and hurt your ankle. He remembers the tears that stained his posh pajama pants when you shouted at him—immediately, instantly—crying out his name and seeking comfort. He also remembers the way Satoru moved around you like a lighting bolt, reaching and lifting you up in his arms before Suguru could arrive. Soothing sweet words into your ear, kissing your cheek as he darted a glare in his direction.

He remembers that they both shared the same thought at that moment, even though it was never vocalized.

He remembers how you have always made him feel this sick—as if you’re infesting his body and refusing to let him cure himself off you at all. He remembers because the feeling doesn’t really stops, never has, probably never will, and he has now grow a little too familiar with the lingering explosion of things that do make him feel alive bubbling in his chest. He’s now used to you setting his soul on fire and making him sick.

But it’s special, nonetheless. A sugary sweet method of inflicting pain—as Satoru likes to say.

Because Suguru Geto is not exactly a good person by his own perspective—but he likes to believe he’s a good man to both you and Satoru, for selfish that could be. The kind of man that puts your safety and well-being on top of anything else, the one that ensures both of your happiness above his own. He’s the type of man that allows some of his darkest desires to die in a fire, following what he believes is the right thing to do.

Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.

“Sugu?”

He can hear it clearly, so vivid and bright and sweet it makes him terribly sick all of a sudden. Singsong and gently voice, coated in saccharine sugar echoing through his ears as the most enthralling tone wraps around his name like a prayer, the deliberately long uttering of ‘Sugu’ forcing the curves of his lips to fall abruptly, his heart stopping without notice and an invisible punch to the guts knocking all the air out of his lungs.

“‘Toru, Daddy, where are you?”

Suguru waits—pretends he doesn’t really care as your footsteps sound closer, closer, closer, and his posture maintains, seemingly calm, apparently unbothered, somewhat bored. But, oh, Satoru knows.

Satoru knows as he sits by his side on the obsidian sectional sofa, with legs crossed and arms splayed over the border, that his best friend’s mind is going on a haze, a brand new sense of anxiety crawling under his skin like a thousand bugs eating him alive. Satoru’s almost certain, he’s sure that if he gets a little closer, the violent sounds of Suguru’s heart pounding in alarming violence against his ribs would cause him physical pain. It puts him on edge; the mere thought of his best friend’s reaction at what’s about to happen now.

If it were him, he wouldn’t care. He hadn’t care in the past, actually. Satoru has always been more than happy to let you near the side of him that glows closer to hell than heaven itself.

But Suguru is different, he thinks.

“She’s supposed to be sleeping,” Suguru stares at him blankly, a hint of irritation in his voice. “It’s long past midnight, and she gets all cranky in the morning every time she stays up,”

“She was sleeping,” Satoru stands up, a sigh sliding past his lips while moving to the bedroom door. “But you already know how she gets if she wakes up for water and is all alone in bed. She gets all needy,”

Suguru raises an eyebrow.

“And who’s fault is that, huh?”

“It’s not polite to finger-point, Suguru.”

Both of them stay silent for a bit, carefully paying attention to your sounds. Suguru tuts his tongue when he hears you calling his name near the bathroom hall.

“I’m too bloodied for her to see me like this,”

“Clearly. Just stay there, lemme—,” Satoru scoffs, opening the door and then closing it behind him swiftly before you can catch a glimpse of the inside. “Oi, sweets, what do you think you’re doing out of bed?”

“But ‘Toru,” you complain in a hushed whine. “You left me alone, you know I don’t like that. It didn’t felt warm anymore,”

Suguru can’t see you—all he has is a muffled sound of your distorted voice, and he swears he knows exactly the way your lips are pushing the loveliest pout to ever exist, the way you’re looking at Satoru through sleepy eyelashes as you put your little complaint out.

And he also knows Satoru might have rolled his eyes playfully at the sight, pulling you closer to steal a kiss from your frowned lips.

“So needy, my baby is so needy,”

“Is Suguru not home yet?” you ask slowly, perhaps setting your groggy eyes into Satoru, staring at him with that enamored look they both know too well.

“Do you want Daddy?”

“Yeah, I do,” you snort.

“I’m your Daddy and I’m home, so,”

“I want both,” you giggle softly, so sweetly Suguru can feel his insides melt at the sound of your bubbling laugh.

He’s sure Satoru has you entangled in a hug, probably sneaking his hands all over your body and tickling your sides to pull a smile.

“Oh, your dumb Daddy, too. Alright. I dunno where he is, sweets,” Satoru states, as if.

“How mean, ‘Toru.”

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”

“Mean. You’re lying to me.”

Suguru smirks at that. He stands up from the bed and walks towards the door to open it and find you both in the exact position he predicted.

And the look you shoot his way, the frown that forms in your face and your pretty features contract in sudden worry when his frame appears in front of you—it all has his heart pounding like crazy, he feels so loved, he feels so full of you. He feels insatiable.

“Oh,” you let out a little squeal as you shift from Satoru’s embrace and into his, “Sugu, you—”

“Don’t worry much about this, princess,” he mumbles, catching you inside his arms like the world depends on it. “I’m okay.”

But he’s sure you’re crying anyway.

And you don’t even stop to think about the blood. You don’t even care that he reeks of death and violence and Curses as you hold onto him for dear life, with arms that wrap tightly around him and pull him closer, closer, even closer; as lips caress the skin of his neck and little mewls echoe softly against his throat. Pants of I love you, I don’t want anything bad happening to you, I love you, fueling his mind like a bomb ready to launch.

Satoru laughs it off with a devious smile.

“Poor baby, you have her worried sick, Suguru,” he falsely chides. “Guess you gotta make it up to her.”

“Uh-huh,” Suguru nods. “My poor princess, do you want Daddy to make it alright?”

You nod in between heavy breaths, head still buried in his neck. Satoru gives a soft slap to your ass whimsically.

“So needy,” the Strongest murmurs, but he rapidly turns away and aims for the stairs. “I’m gonna go find a snack though, I’m starving. And then I’m gonna prepare a bath so you both can meet me there in a bit,”

Suguru nods.

“Go on. Let me take this princess to bed in the mean time, then we meet you in the bathtub,”

Suguru takes you to his large bed and places you in the middle of many soft pillows cooing in your ear to wash the concern out of you, but you’re reluctant. You cup his face and scan him looking for wounds, soon realizing the ugly streaks of scarlet that stain his face are, in fact, not his. But even then you don’t flinch. Instead, you let your hands wander all over his chest—desperate to pull him into you, to merge your bodies and never letting him go, never separated.

“Oh?” Suguru smiles at your scattered words. There’s still blinks of sleep tugging at your tired eyes, and he can’t help but fondle your face cautiously. “Are we merging with Satoru too, hm?”

You nod, sulky little look fighting sleepiness with all you got.

“Of course, Daddy, always with ‘Toru,”

“That’s right, princess. Always with Satoru,”

You inhale a deep breath. It’s easy for Suguru to notice every little thing about you, so he caught up on your train of thoughts before yourself. You were struggling with some words, biting your lip, eyelashes fluttering, thinking hard about something.

“What is it, baby?” He wonders carefully, hot breath colliding with your face, nose caressing the soft skin of your cheeks as he inhales your scent.

“Did you do a bad thing, Sugu?”

The question lingers on his brain for a few seconds, mind resisting on reflecting such thoughts. Yet his expression doesn’t change, he maintains serenity as the brush of skin above yours doesn’t stop. He holds you like a priced possession, like your mere existence could ever absolve the decaying all Sorcerers are damned to. Like you could kiss him and save him, like you could hug him and guard him—as if you could turn blood into holy water or death into salvation.

Maybe you can.

“Will you still love me if I did?” He asks, not dreading the answer.

“I will never stop loving you, Daddy,”

It ignites his body. Fire burns at his fists and he kisses you deeply, mouths meeting around a new heat, with tongues slipping and teeth clashing desperately. He has no intention of letting you catch a break, mouth falling to your neck where he bites at the sensitive skin and causes you to mewl.

“Ow, Suguru, that’s mean,” you grumble, but you part your bare legs anyway when his hands drop and brush at your thighs.

“Can’t help it, princess,” he press a chaste kiss to your lips once more. “You gonna let me play a little with this pretty pussy, yeah?” The words flee his throat in a raspy tone, and his hands don’t stop. He hikes up that oversized cashmere sweater, that can only belong to Satoru, barely above the line of your lacey black panties, enough for him graze it and get a glimpse of your puffy lips against the fabric, awaiting for him. Suguru traces a finger along your cunt, causing you to shiver at the cold digits. “How gorgeous,”

You pant. “But—The bath, Sugu,”

“He can wait a little,” he says into your mouth “Gonna make you feel really good, princess,” he breathes heavily, rocking his hip a little as a thumb strikes tenderly your cunt through your panties.

And he notices right away—in the way you shiver under his touch when he hovers completely above you, how a breathless sigh escapes past your parted lips and your fists grab a handful of his shoulders to attach yourself onto him and make his bulge nudge your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, mouth leaving stray kisses in your neck and already throbbing cock humping your covered pussy through his pants.

“Sugu,” you whine at one particularly hard thrust of his hips, involuntary loud moan reverberating from the back of your throat. “‘Toru,”

“Shh, princess,”

Suguru is fast at parting your panties to the side, and he says there’s no need for prepping you tonight, says it’s gonna be real quick so you can both go back to Satoru—with his cock an angry shade of red as its released free from his trousers and it aims for your tiny hole fast, thrusting in one go. You’re whimpering at how fast it happens, cunt burning at the sudden intrusion since he is usually the one that takes his time to properly prep you to take his cock.

You guess he’s feeling off, so you happily comply if that’ll help him.

“Want you, Sugu, I need you,”

“Ah-ah, my good girl,” he grunts lightly, hands steadying you by the ass as he finally bottoms out. “Can you keep doing that for me? Can you be a good girl?”

A loud hiss vibrates through clenched teeth as you wrap your legs around his hips, head nodding many forms of yes as you inch closer to him in distress.

“That’s it baby, take it pretty,”

“H-Hurts a little, Sugu,” you murmur softly, eyes glued to where he’s slowly sliding in and out.

“I know princess,” he pants. “Give it a minute,” He’s practically caging you shortly after, thrusting up roughly as stretched out walls wrap him and suck him deeply. You’re not given a chance to recover or adjust properly, but the burning does start to fade away. Discomfort grows into pleasure and whimpers turn into soft moans as you bury your face on his neck and his hot breath collides sharply against the shell of your ear. “You’re so brave, my good girl. So pretty, my princess,”

You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, dainty fingers digging the flesh of his shoulders when he grunts. And it doesn’t take long for tears to collect in your eyes as heat floods your body once again, the familiar throb of your clit making you aggravate the hump of your hips so your swollen bud finds a little bit of friction. Suguru doesn’t fail to turn you into a needy mess, strong hand coming to cover the cries emitting from your mouth.

Muffled chants of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, alongside his hoarse grunts and the lewd slap of skin against skin are the only sounds that fly the room when he cums—bruising fingers grasping your flesh harshly as he paints your walls white, and nearly immediately you’re creaming all over the tip of his sensitive cock firmly pressed against your cervix.

“Not leaving you baby,” he pants out. “Not leaving you at all.”

[fanatic-writers]

Loki Drabble

A/n: Just a little thought I had while watching the new episode of Loki. Requests are open!

Word Count: 844

Pairing: Loki x TVA!Reader

Summary: The three times Loki sees you in the past and the one time he finally catches up to the present

Warnings: Unedited, Season 2 spoilers ish

You were at your desk in the TVA when you heard the commotion of your coworkers gawking at someone in front of you. “Y/n,” a strange man gasped as his hands came to cup your cheeks “gods darling you have to help me.” Your brow furrowed in confusion as you moved out of the man’s grasp. “You have five seconds to explain why you’re grabbing my face and calling me darling before I prune you.” You huffed in response, hand already searching for your weapon. “Darling, it’s me. It’s Loki.” He raised his hands in surrender as you shoved your time stick in his face. “Loki!? You mean the variant I’m supposed to be hunting down Loki?” You raise a brow, charging up the weapon and preparing to use it. Loki looked hurt, defeated even, as he seemed to melt into despair “You-you don’t remember me?” He frowned “I remember it's my job to get you off the timeline so the world doesn’t end.” You spoke as you lunged towards him. Loki was quicker though, sprinting through the hallways as you called for backup. You turned around a corner after him and heard a sort of yelp before you watched him seemingly get ripped from the universe. “What the hell was that?” You frowned as you looked to the men around you who just shrugged in response.

He had been moving through the TVA for a while now, through time more than space it seemed. He felt his body being ripped apart and pulled back together, he kept his eyes closed for a moment before he registered a scream that sounded oh so familiar. “Y/n?” He started hands already up as he approached you apprehensively. He’d had his fair share of run-ins with the past yous now and he just wanted you to recognize him. Maybe this was the actual war that He Who Remained had promised him. A war inside himself every time he saw you and you didn’t recognize him one bit. Didn’t remember the fight you’d put up for Mobius to keep him around, didn’t remember the adventures you’d been on with him. “Please don’t hurt me.” You mumbled and it was then that Loki realized that this you was different from the others. You were younger, the emotions you usually kept steeled away were present on your face, the main one being fear. He took a cautious step toward you “I could never hurt you.” He mumbled, looking into your confused eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again but before he could he was being ripped away once more, his hand reaching out to you as if you could save him.

“Where the hell do you think you’ve been?” Your voice echoed down the hallway as you marched up to Loki, looking decidedly pissed. “Darling-“ He started but you stopped him before he could get to far. “I stuck my neck out for you and then you escape?” You huffed, arms crossed over your chest. “I should’ve just let Mobius kill you after your little movie but no, I felt bad, and this is what it gets me.” You paused for a moment in your rant “And stop calling me darling, it isn’t going to win you any brownie points.” It must’ve been his first day he realized a little too late as you began to slip cuffs over his wrists and drag him back to the room he was held in. “You’ve got the wrong guy.” He tried to explain but even he didn’t know if he would be able to talk his way out of this one. “Oh, so there’s some other you running around wearing the exact same clothes doing the exact same thing as you?” You raised a brow as you shoved him into the room. “Honestly, for the god of lies, I thought you’d be better at the whole talking your way out of things. I mean seriously ‘you’ve got the wrong guy,’ I’m not a child Loki.” You mocked his voice as best you could and he couldn’t help the small smirk that came to his lips, remembering the other times you’d done it in far less serious matters. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like wha-“ “Loki?! LOKI! What the hell!?” You looked down at the cuffs that had fallen to the floor and sent a message to Mobius that Loki was still at large.

You were walking out of the war room the next time he spotted you “Y/n, I don’t have time to explain but you know me and I need your help.” “I know I know you?” You looked at him confused “I’m more concerned about the whole appearing in front of me as a stringy flesh monster.” Loki breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around you “I love you darling, please don’t forget me again.” He paused for a moment pulling away to look at you “Stringy flesh monster?” “I’d say that’s a good way of putting it.” Mobius piped up from behind you.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 27

Part 1  Part 26

Eddie drags the kiddie pool into the gym, cursing under his breath. This is such a waste of time. They have absolutely no proof Supergirl’s powers are even real, much less that she’ll be able to contact Steve on the other side.

“This is taking too long,” Eddie grumbles.

Uncle Wayne gives him a warning look from where he’s attaching extensions to the hose they’d dragged into the gym from the pool room. “We need to figure out where he is before we go in, guns blazing.”

“He’ll be in the trailer!” Eddie says heatedly. “Like I said!”

Wayne’s brows furrowed just like the last time he’d said that. Like the idea of rich boy Steve Harrington willingly hanging out in their trailer was too much for him to take on faith alone.

Joyce, not moving from her place next to Supergirl, smiles at him pityingly. “It’s going to be dangerous, sweetie,” she says, voice low. “We need to make sure that he’s still—”

“Alive?” Will asks. He’s sitting on the bleachers, smushed between all his friends, wringing his hands. Beside him, Mike grabs one of his hands, stopping him from bruising his knuckles with the force of his pulling. Will squeezes his hand hard enough that Mike winces. He doesn’t pull his hand away, just clutches his other hand onto his own knee. Eddie aches.

Joyce doesn’t answer, but she meets her son’s gaze, eyes shining, and that’s answer enough.

“He is,” Eddie asserts, barely feeling better when Will nods.

“We’re already set up, kid,” Hopper says, dumping pounds of what looks like salt into the pool. “A couple more minutes can’t hurt.”

Eddie shares a loaded look with Will. None of them understand how quickly things can go bad over there, how hurt Steve already was. They can’t feel the way there’s a tug in Eddie’s sternum, pulling him toward the other boy.

Joyce settles Supergirl into the pool, soothing her, holding her hand. The girl looks like an alien with the dark glasses obscuring her face, casting darker shadows onto her face in the already-dark gym. She looks like a corpse, floating there, with no

Then, it’s silence. And waiting. Eddie wants to scream at her, demand answers. What’s she seeing? Is Steve okay?

Even more so when the lights start flickering again. Eddie backs up on instinct, lowering his center of gravity to crouch in front of Will as the kid clutches at the loose hem of his pant leg.

The flickering stops as the girl gasps. The lights go out, making the water she’s floating in seem like a dark pit of oil. Eddie almost excepts the dark, grasping claw of the Demogorgon to come out of its depths and yank her down. It doesn’t.

“Is Steve okay?” Will calls, voice quiet. “Is he okay?”

She doesn’t twitch, like she didn’t hear him at all. The silence makes Eddie’s toes curl into the soles of his boots to keep him in place. He feels Will’s nails through the material of his pants as the kid holds on tighter. Their collective breathing, so loud in the silence, seems like it’s echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

Then, Supergirl speaks.

“It’s dark.”

Eddie pictures Steve, huddled into himself on Eddie’s bed, waiting for them to come back to him. Maybe he’s changed into a pair of Eddie’s clothes, his own covered with blood and grime. Maybe he’s snooping through Eddie’s things. He hopes Steve doesn’t look under his bed.

“Not here.”

It hits like a punch. He staggers a little, and another small fist clutches onto his shirt. Maybe Will’s other hand, maybe one of the other kids. He doesn’t look away from the pool to check.

“What do you mean ‘not here?’” Eddie demands.

There are tremors running through his whole body. He barely feels it, wonders if he’s inside his body at all, right now.  

“Big house,” Supergirl says.

“Oh, no,” Eddie says.

Eddie thinks of that poor dog that used to always be chained up three trailers down from theirs until the Parker’s packed their shit up and moved away. When approached, the dog would cower into the front porch it was chained to, making itself hidden and small. Eddie used to try to pet it, but there’s only so much a dog can take before it turns mean, starts snapping at anything that moves.

Everyone had thought the Parker’s had taken the dog with them. They’d all shaken their heads at the poor treatment but washed their hands of the business before doing a thing to try and help.

They’d found the dog three weeks later when the smell had gotten too much. It’d crawled under the porch and died. Even when home was full of monstrous thing, it’d still drug its body back there for its final resting place.

“I know where he is,” Eddie whispers.

That first night, Steve had dragged Eddie into his closet on instinct, like it was the only place they’d be safe. Like a dog slinking under the porch to die.

Eddie runs toward the pool, feels small hands try to hold on before they give way. He drops to his knees next to the pool, barely stopping himself from shaking the little girl floating inside it. He clutches the side, shouts down at her, “tell him we’re coming.”

“Your friends,” she whispers into the darkness of the gym, “they’re coming for you.”

She’s quiet for a minute, before saying, “he says to hurry.”

“Tell him to stay where he is,” Hopper says.

“Just hold on a little longer, Steve,” she says.

“Steve?” Eddie says, quiet like he’s still sitting beside him in Steve’s closet, knees knocking as his hanging clothes shroud them. “I’m coming.”

Then Supergirl’s yelling, “Steve!” on repeat, like he’s drifting away. Like she’s trying to get to him.

Eddie reaches in for her, just as Joyce does, their fingers tangling on the girl as they both pull her up and out.

“Okay, okay.” Joyce says, “I’ve got you. You did so good.”

“Is Steve okay?” Eddie demands. His voice comes out as a croak.

Wayne crouches down beside him, old knees popping, and clutches his shoulder. Eddie doesn’t take his eyes off Supergirl. She raises her head slowly, eyes filled with tears as she slowly raises her eyes and meets his gaze, looking like she’d rather look anywhere else.

She shakes her head slowly. “We have to hurry,” she says. “He is out of time.”

Part 28

[021894s]

— 06 shopping spree [0.9k w]

MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

PAIRINGS: brothers bsf!sunghoon x reader

WARNINGS: mentions wearing white to a wedding? cussing

AUTHORS NOTE: hi my loves. i wrote this chap super quick before I go to bed so sorry if it doesn’t live up to your standards ehe. nonetheless I hope you enjoy🫶🏻

You've been at the library for what feels like an eternity, textbooks and notes spread out like a fortress around you. The pressure of exams is weighing heavily on your shoulders, and you're determined to maintain your top of the class status. Your focus is so intense that you barely notice the fatigue creeping in, until your head starts to nod and your pen taps rhythmically against your notebook in a silent plea for rest.

Suddenly, a familiar figure weaves through the maze of bookshelves, his eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Sunghoon knows this is where you disappear to when you need to concentrate. He quietly approaches your table calling out your name in a whisper, a soft smile playing on his lips as he realizes you’d fallen asleep mid study session.

he lightly nudges you, startling you awake. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he teases gently. You blink up at him, a mix of confusion and embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you straighten up.

"I'm not sleeping, just... resting my eyes," you protest, but the smile he gives you is too knowing, too warm. He asks if you're okay, his concern genuine as he inquires about your studies and your well-being.

The conversation shifts to the upcoming trip to Japan, the fake dating scheme you've both agreed to, all in an effort to show your ex that you've moved on. Sunghoon leans in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "So, have you thought about what you're wearing to the wedding? I mean, we should probably match, right? To make the whole 'dating' thing more convincing."

You feel a flush rise to your cheeks, the idea of coordinating with him both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "I... haven't really thought about it," you admit, trying to keep your voice steady despite grogginess from your slumber just a couple minutes ago.

He grins, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, we've got to make a good impression. How about we go shopping together? Find something that screams 'power couple'?"

The suggestion sends your heart racing, the prospect of spending time together outside of ksana parties and group hangouts made you a bit nervous, but growing up with sunghoon it was hard not to enjoy his company.

“yeah that sounds like a good idea actually. do you have any place in mind?” you ask him. “we can try that new mall across from campus, maybe we’ll find something there?”

“oh i’ve been wanting to go there! saerom says that have really cute cafes and shops” he can’t help but smile at how passionate you become at the mention of shopping. “perfect then i’ll pick you up tomorrow at noon?” he asks you. “noon sounds great” you flash him a smile.

a moment of comfortable silence passes by. Then, he drops the invitation to the ksana party. with him and Heeseung being a part of a frat, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to be invited to parties every other weekend. You hesitate, the responsible part of your mind reminding you of the endless studying still ahead. With a resigned sigh, you decline, a small part of you longing to say yes, to let loose and have fun. But grades come first, and you're not one to let distractions get in the way of your goals.

As the next day comes, You glance at the clock and realize. Sunghoon will be here any minute to pick you up for your shopping trip. With a flutter of excitement, you grab your bag and check your reflection one last time. You've chosen an outfit that's comfortable yet cute. shopping sprees had always been your favorite for as long as you could remember. you blame heeseung because he always dragged you out of the house to give him your very honest (sometimes brutal) opinion.

A gentle knock on the door signals his arrival, and your heart skips a beat. "Ready to go?" Sunghoon asks with a smile as you open the door.

"Definitely," you reply, stepping out and closing the door behind you.

The drive is anything but awkward. you chat and laugh on the way to the mall, the atmosphere light and easy, like it’s always been between you two. Once there, you dive into a sea of stores, each one offering its own treasures.

"How about this one? imagine the look on everyone’s faces when you show up in this" Sunghoon chuckles, holding up a white dress that's definitely a big NO considering you’re attending a wedding.

"are you being serious? " you tease, taking the dress from him. "sunghoon it’s white. I’d probably be chased out the venue and get personally attacked by all the bridesmaids” you can't help but laugh at the thought.

“even more reason for you to get it” a smirk creeps up on his face. “oh so you’re praying on my downfall?” he gasps “ME?? i would never do such a thing” you roll your eyes and walk past him. both of you having smiles on your faces as you continue to look around the store.

You try on dresses and a few other items, each time coming out of the fitting room to Sunghoon's eager eyes. "What do you think?" you ask, doing a little twirl in a black floral slip dress.

Sunghoon's gaze lingers just a moment too long before he catches himself. "It looks great on you," he says, a hint of something more in his voice. "You should definitely get it."

The day continues with more laughter, shared opinions. it’s moments like these where you appreciate sunghoon’s friendship and the sibling dynamic between you two. it makes you less nervous about the whole fake dating scheme. your friendship would remain the same and everything will be ok in the end. or will it?

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