#lightweight training shoes

[nasa]

Athletes Go for the Gold with NASA Spinoffs

NASA technology tends to find its way into the sporting world more often than you’d expect. Fitness is important to the space program because astronauts must undergo the extreme g-forces of getting into space and endure the long-term effects of weightlessness on the human body. The agency’s engineering expertise also means that items like shoes and swimsuits can be improved with NASA know-how.

As the 2024 Olympics are in full swing in Paris, here are some of the many NASA-derived technologies that have helped competitive athletes train for the games and made sure they’re properly equipped to win.

The LZR Racer reduces skin friction drag by covering more skin than traditional swimsuits. Multiple pieces of the water-resistant and extremely lightweight LZR Pulse fabric connect at ultrasonically welded seams and incorporate extremely low-profile zippers to keep viscous drag to a minimum.

Swimsuits That Don’t Drag

When the swimsuit manufacturer Speedo wanted its LZR Racer suit to have as little drag as possible, the company turned to the experts at Langley Research Center to test its materials and design. The end result was that the new suit reduced drag by 24 percent compared to the prior generation of Speedo racing suit and broke 13 world records in 2008. While the original LZR Racer is no longer used in competition due to the advantage it gave wearers, its legacy lives on in derivatives still produced to this day.

Trilion Quality Systems worked with NASA’s Glenn Research Center to adapt existing stereo photogrammetry software to work with high-speed cameras. Now the company sells the package widely, and it is used to analyze stress and strain in everything from knee implants to running shoes and more.

High-Speed Cameras for High-Speed Shoes

After space shuttle Columbia, investigators needed to see how materials reacted during recreation tests with high-speed cameras, which involved working with industry to create a system that could analyze footage filmed at 30,000 frames per second. Engineers at Adidas used this system to analyze the behavior of Olympic marathoners' feet as they hit the ground and adjusted the design of the company’s high-performance footwear based on these observations.

Martial artist Barry French holds an Impax Body Shield while former European middle-weight kickboxing champion Daryl Tyler delivers an explosive jump side kick; the force of the impact is registered precisely and shown on the display panel of the electronic box French is wearing on his belt.

One-Thousandth-of-an-Inch Punch

In the 1980s, Olympic martial artists needed a way to measure the impact of their strikes to improve training for competition. Impulse Technology reached out to Glenn Research Center to create the Impax sensor, an ultra-thin film sensor which creates a small amount of voltage when struck. The more force applied, the more voltage it generates, enabling a computerized display to show how powerful a punch or kick was.

Astronaut Sunita Williams poses while using the Interim Resistive Exercise Device on the ISS. The cylinders at the base of each side house the SpiraFlex FlexPacks that inventor Paul Francis honed under NASA contracts. They would go on to power the Bowflex Revolution and other commercial exercise equipment.

Weight Training Without the Weight

Astronauts spending long periods of time in space needed a way to maintain muscle mass without the effect of gravity, but lifting free weights doesn’t work when you’re practically weightless. An exercise machine that uses elastic resistance to provide the same benefits as weightlifting went to the space station in the year 2000. That resistance technology was commercialized into the Bowflex Revolution home exercise equipment shortly afterwards.

Want to learn more about technologies made for space and used on Earth? Check out NASA Spinoff to find products and services that wouldn’t exist without space exploration.   

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured X

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: You go back to ballet

Alexia doesn't know whether to be proud or horrified.

You've not even been out of the hospital for three days before she receives a text from Jenni saying that you're going back to ballet - by your own accord.

Alexia has been invited too and she fusses in front of the mirror, tugging at her outfit as she stares.

There's an extra training session tonight, taking penalties, and while Alexia would usually attend, she finds herself staring in her mirror as she contemplates putting her hair up or leaving it loose.

Olga leans by the door, Jaume on her hip. "You are seeing Bambi," She chides," Not going to a business meeting. A suit is not needed."

Alexia tugs at her blazer sleeve. Her slacks aren't buttoned up quite yet and her shirt isn't as crisp as it could be. "Are you sure?"

"Comfortable, Ale," Olga says," A t-shirt and some trackies. Jeans if you must but it's just a ballet class. You're not meeting investors. Change."

Alexia huffs but does as she's told, swapping her slacks for some Barcelona-issued tracksuit bottoms along with her white button-down for a plain t-shirt. Her blazer is taken from her in favour of a lightweight jacket and she's pushed out of the door in her trainers before she can contemplate other shoe options.

She's early for your ballet practice and she can hear you before you and Jenni even turn the corner.

You're talking animatedly to her, your little hand tight in hers as she looks down at you. Jenni's smiling at you, a big beaming smile that falls like a lance through Alexia's chest as she watches Jenni hang off your every word.

You stop in front of her, eyes wide as you shuffle a little closer like you're wary of her. "Hi, Mami."

Alexia smiles. "Hi, Bambi."

You very slowly shuffle even closer, looking like you're going to bolt back to the safety Jenni offers you before your little arms are wrapped around Alexia's legs in a hug.

Alexia's hand very gently runs through your unbound hair as you peer up at her with those same wide eyes.

"Come on, Bambi," Jenni calls and you immediately scamper back to her side," You've still got to change your shoes and gets your hair done. Inside, come on."

Jenni holds the door open for you and you hurry in, finding a place at a bench already crammed with parents and children as you begin to pull off your shoes.

"How is she?" Alexia asks.

"Sleepy," Jenni answers," Still a little emotional. She cried when I told her she should take another day off from ballet so here we are." She rummages around in the bag on her back. "Bambi, feet please."

You place one foot on Jenni's bent knee as she slips on your ballet flat before swapping to do the other. "When I'm eleven or twelve," You tell Mami," I can wear fancy pointe shoes and go up to tippy-toe!"

"Only if you keep practising," Jenni reminds you as she moves around the back to scrape your hair into a bun. Her hand skims your upper back and you flinch and Jenni notices instantly, freezing her movements until you fully relax again.

She doesn't touch your back again as she makes sure all of your hair is tied back in a bun.

"Alright," She says and you twist around to face her, turning your back on Mami as Ma-Jenni cups your face," What's the most important thing?"

"Having fun."

"That's right. Have fun. Turn on your listening ears and try your hardest."

You nod.

"And if you feel sleepy or tired you tell the teacher right away and they'll come and get me, understand?"

"Yes."

"Alright."

The door to the studio opens as students come out and your group goes in. You move with the crowd before stopping and turning around again.

You run back to Jenni, giving her a big hug before being released. You make an aborted movement to go again but stop yourself. In a few light steps, you're standing in front of Alexia.

"I'm going in now, Mami," You say," Bye-bye."

"I'm not going anywhere, Bambi," Alexia says," I'll be right here with Jenni when you come out."

You frown, head tilted to the side in confusion. "Why? Today's always penalty practice. You always go to penalty practice."

"Well, today, I'm at ballet practice. I'm staying here."

You look up at her, trying to puzzle out if she's lying to you and Alexia takes the chance to very carefully pull you into a hug. You're tense and rigid for a moment before you're fully relaxed against her, bringing your own arms up for a hug of your own.

You pull away and Alexia lets you, even though she desperately wants to keep you with her. So, she settles on walking you to the door.

Jenni's there too, talking with your teacher.

"-Just out of hospital. She might be a little woozy today or tired. I'm just outside if she needs a break or something."

You slip into the studio and get lost in the crowd of other kids as Alexia takes a seat on the bench with Jenni and the other parents. It's a little awkward.

Jenni knows everyone, greeting people casually and answering their small talk while Alexia awkwardly sits there.

Usually, she uses the time you're in ballet to run a few errands before going into an extra training session. Usually, she'd already be in the car and gone, picking up the dry cleaning from the fancy place down the street or getting the groceries done even though she could get them delivered.

It's odd to be sitting here.

Sitting here with her ex, staring through the glass walls to watch your session.

It's clear to Alexia that some of these kids are just here to have fun. They're here because their parents signed them up for this. But not you.

Even now, at such a young age, Alexia can recognise her laser focus in you, from the way you very slightly change your positioning or how you're always staring at your teacher, not letting your eyes stray through the windows to where you know Alexia and Jenni are sitting.

Your only focus is on your ballet and Alexia can imagine a grown up version of you in her head, with a proper outfit and pointe shoes and hair in a bun you've done yourself. She can imagine you on a stage with a full orchestra accompanying your dancing.

Alexia blinks and that image of you is gone.

It's just the you now and the way a tiny sliver of your tongue sticks out as you shift your foot further outwards.

"She's so talented," One of the other mothers says to Jenni, who beams.

The praise goes straight to Jenni's chest like this woman has personally complimented her. Your talent is obvious even at this age and Jenni knows under the right guidance, you're going to be great.

Her heart swells with pride as she watches you.

Your teacher has to adjust everyone's positioning but not yours.

You're a little prodigy and Jenni's so proud of you.

You're still a little tired, still have a sore throat from the tube that had been stuck down it but you're powering through it. Jenni would have preferred you staying home with her but you had been adamant.

You've gotten that from Alexia.

Jenni's never seen that level of focus on anyone who wasn't a Putellas. She's even seen it on Alba on occasion. Putellas girls grab what they want and they don't let it go.

Jenni sneaks a glance at Alexia, whose eyes haven't strayed from your dancing.

She knows that if Alexia wants to keep you, if Alexia doesn't want to let Jenni raise you then she won't get you - even if she's the right choice. Even if Jenni puts everything into raising you, if Alexia wants to keep you then Jenni will never get you.

Even if Jenni begs and begs, Putellas girls don't let go of what they want.

If Alexia decides that she can give you a better life, if she clings and clings and clings then you'll never be in Jenni's arms again and she doesn't know if she can cope with that.

Her only hope is that Eli can talk sense into Alexia, that Eli can see that Jenni is the best choice for you, the best choice to support and shape you into who you're going to be as an adult.

They sit in silence for most of your session, only exchanging a few words before you're released to them.

You're panting from exertion and you look so drained. You raise your hands up when you get close to them and Alexia's the quickest one.

She picks you up and settles you on her hip with ease. It's been a long time since you've been so comfortable with that. You're not completely comfortable just yet but you relax more and more until you're like you used to be.

Jenni trails after the two of you.

"How was dance, Bambi?" She asks and you peak over Alexia's shoulder to beam at her.

"Good! Fun!"

"That's excellent!" Jenni says," Do your feet hurt?"

You give her a cheeky smile and nod. "Mama gives me foot massages when they hurt!" You say to Mami.

"That's-" Alexia gets cut off by a loud, familiar voice from across the street.

"No way!" The voice says," Is that my favourite ballerina? It looks like it is!"

"Mapi!" You kick a little bit for Alexia to put you down and she begins to lower you to the ground but Jenni plucks you straight from her.

Alexia's in a little bit of awe at the way Jenni so easily swaps your ballet pumps for your trainers with one hand. She does it so easily and so naturally that it leaves Alexia wondering if she'd practised this or if it came automatically.

Once your outside shoes are on, Jenni releases you.

Thankfully, Mapi (and Ingrid) have already crossed the street so you can get to them without getting hit by a car.

"Hi, Mapi!" You chirp as Mapi reaches around to untie your hair from its bun, leaving it to fall loose down your back.

"What?" Ingrid chuckles," No hi for me?"

You suddenly turn shy, rubbing the tip of your shoe in the ground as you refuse to make eye contact, cheeks going bright red. "Hi, Ingrid." You shuffle into her arms and Jenni laughs, patting Mapi on the back.

"Better watch out," Jenni says," Or Bambi might steal your girlfriend."

Mapi rolls her eyes. "Only if she's into women years older than her."

"Well, by the looks of her crush, she might."

Jenni's clearly teasing but it still sends a bolt of lightning down Alexia's spine. She can't imagine you finding a partner one day. She can't imagine what you would look for in a partner.

Someone your age, Alexia reckons. Maybe someone you met through ballet. Maybe someone that has no association with football. Probably someone from Barcelona.

She's not really sure she can imagine you with someone. She can imagine you on stage. She can imagine you dancing professionally. She can't imagine you dating anyone.

She can't imagine you dating someone and moving away. She can't imagine you moving away as an adult. She can't imagine you moving away now.

She knows that if she lets you go with Jenni then you're going to Mexico. She knows that you're leaving Spain.

Alexia also knows that she's a Putellas. She knows that a Putellas doesn't just roll over and take the punches. She knows that if she wants something (if she wants to keep you with her) then she'll have to hold it tightly and not let it go (let you go) no matter what someone else thinks or says.

You're a Putellas too.

You're not a Hermoso - at least not legally.

You have Alexia's hyper focus. You have Alexia's genes too.

That has to count for something.

You came from Alexia. You grew in Alexia's womb. Alexia endured hours of labour to have you.

That has to count for something, right?

Right?

Blood rushes through Alexia's ears as she looks down at you, at how shy you still look while you stare at Ingrid, the tips of your ears turning pink just like Alexia's do when she's feeling shy.

Jenni's time in Spain is running out every day but for everything of herself she can see in you, Alexia can still aspects of Jenni in you. From the way you giggle and the way you smile and the way you hug.

Everything that used to be Alexia, is slowly changing into Jenni and you seem none the wiser.

"Bambi," Alexia calls and you turn to look at her.

You seem a little confused at being spoken to so suddenly but you're still smiling. It doesn't dim in the slightest.

"We goin' home now, Mami?"

Jenni freezes, whatever she's been saying to Mapi stops in her throat. You haven't called Alexia's house 'home' since Jenni's been with you. You've only called Alba's place 'home'.

Jenni doesn't know what that means. She doesn't know if you mean Alexia's place or Alba's. She doesn't know if you know which one you mean either.

She hates that stupid smug look on Alexia's face.

A look that Alexia doesn't even know she's wearing. She beams from ear to ear at your words. She wants desperately to say yes, to bring you back into the little family that you're a firm part of, to bring you back home to your room full of trains.

But she keeps herself calm.

She knows that she can't just sweep you away like that.

She needs to remain calm.

"Not right now, Bambi," She says," Listen me and Jenni need to go and see your Abuela. Do you want to spend the rest of your day with Mapi and Ingrid?"

You look at Ingrid, cheeks still bright red as you nod. "Yes, please, Mami."

Jenni takes the reins after that, giving Mapi orders on how to look after you and how in an hour or so you have your midday nap and to make sure that you have somewhere soft and warm to rest your head. She lays off orders that even Alexia hasn't thought of like how you should have a glass of water with a hint of lemon because it always wakes you up after naptime and how they shouldn't touch you because you're a light sleeper and you really need the rest after your hospital stay.

You curl into Jenni's arms as she says goodbye to you. You go all limp and boneless and somewhere along the way, your little fist latches on the front of Alexia's shirt, pulling her into the hug too. Just like it was in the Before.

With Mapi rolling her eyes and Ingrid promising to take the best care of you, Alexia and Jenni are at Eli's house within the hour.

Alba is there too, an ever-present figure of disapproval as she leans against the doorframe. Everyone already knows Alba's vote on this matter.

Her position has never swayed and Alexia can't look her in the eyes.

Alba wants her sister out of your life. Permanently if she could help it but at least as your main caregiver if she couldn't get permanently.

She has never been swayed. She has never thought any different. She doesn't care if she has to fly to Mexico to see you. She doesn't care if you never step foot in Spain again.

Alba thinks that's a better alternative than having you with Alexia.

Jenni's position is clear too. She won't say it out loud but everyone knows her position. She wants you. She wants you like she needs air to breathe. She wants you with every cell in her body and she doesn't think Alexia and Olga's home is right for you. It's alright for you but it's not perfect and Jenni thinks she can make you the perfect home.

Alexia's vote is cast in her own favour too. She's acknowledged what she's done. She's fixing it. She's changing how she lives her life so it can be better suited to you and your schedule. She's proving to everyone that she can still be a mother to you. She's showing that she loves you just as much as she loves Jaume. She's making a family for herself, a family that you deserve to be a part of.

But everyone knows where the decision truly lies.

It lies with the woman sitting at the head of the table.

She is not a Putellas. She does not cling to what she wants and refuses to let it go.

Eli is a Segura. She looks at both sides. She weighs up have-beens and could-bes and makes her decisions on that. If she thinks something would do better out of her grip then she will let it go. She will let it thrive and grow away from her even if it means never seeing it again.

She looks at her daughter and then to the woman that could have been her daughter-in-law.

The debates had been going back and forth for hours now, words bouncing off the walls of her house as she sat there.

Alexia made her case.

Jennie made her case.

Alba threw in her own opinions.

Then, Eli spoke.

She spoke for a long while and everyone hung on her every word.

"I cannot force you to do what you do not want to, Ale," Eli says at the end," She is your daughter. You have all the rights to her. Her future is in your hands right now-"

"Mama!" Alba cuts in," You can't be serious?! We all know what Alexia will choose! You cannot let her do this!"

"I cannot force your sister to do anything," Eli says," She is an adult and she holds all of Bambi's rights. None of us can force her to do anything." Her eyes flick back to her eldest. "But think about this carefully, Alexia. Do not make this decision with your heart. Make it with your head. Do what is best for Bambi."

Eli's words come back to Alexia a few days later at the park.

You and Jenni have met her, Olga and Jaume there.

Jaume is now strong enough to hold his own head up and crawl around, exploring the world with his hands and mouth.

He sits on the grass with Olga settled on the picnic blanket. He's crawling around, playing on the slight incline and Olga lets him, keeping half an eye on him and the other on her book.

You and Jenni are in the playground, playing on the slide. You're getting stronger and stronger every day. Your throat and voice are no longer scratchy and you've been given the all-clear from the doctor.

You're holding the new train that Jenni got you to celebrate getting out of the hospital. The usual train store has closed down now but Jenni managed to find another one. It ended up just you and her. You weren't sure that you wanted Mami to come with you. You turn your head a little to look at her.

Alexia sits on a bench, equal distance away from both you and Jaume, able to swivel her head around to see both of you.

Jaume tries to stick a flower in his mouth that Olga promptly confiscates.

You erupt into a fit of giggles as Jenni tickles your tummy.

Jaume tugs his shoes off.

You duck under the climbing frame.

Jaume babbles and claps.

You shriek with laughter when Jenni catches up to you.

Then the bubble bursts and all of the convincing Alexia has done to herself bursts. Every time she tells herself that she can make this work. Every time she tells herself that the decision she has made is the right one.

It's all ruined now.

Jaume tumbles down the incline. It's not a far fall for an adult but it's enough to shock a scream and tears from him. Olga's by his side instantly.

You fall off the slide. You land as a little heap on the ground and it's not a far fall either but you still cry as Jenni picks you up.

Both of you are hysterical, sobbing your eyes out and looking close to a breakdown.

"Ale!"

"Alexia!"

Alexia stands.

She looks between both situations and emotions she's never felt before surge through her system.

Jaume, her little football player.

You, her little ballerina.

Alexia must have glanced between you both countless time in the two seconds it takes her to react.

Her feet move on their own accord, carrying her towards one of her children.

The decision she previously made has changed. Alexia knows that nothing will be the same anymore.

The decision, this time, is permanent.

[asics2022]

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[mochie85]

As part of your 1k celebrations I would like to submit the following prompt for consideration 😁♥️ feel free to bend it to your will.

Your colleague Loki finds himself in your rooms at Stark Tower for (fairly) innocent reasons.

You arrive back unexpectedly. He hides, at first.

✨✨

Fairly Innocent

One Shot Masterlist | Follower Event Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

A/N: I apologize, with my whole heart, that it has taken me this long to finish this request. So long, that I have reached a new milestone since this request was made. But I hope you enjoy it. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Explicit. Smut, hand job, oral (female receiving), slight DOM vibes, voyeurism, shower scene, mention of 'toys'. Happy ending. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Your room was dark and cold. The curtains were shut leaving a small sliver of light shining from the cityscape outside. There was a stillness in the air from being untouched the last two weeks. “Now, where did she put you?” Loki hummed while looking around your room. He wandered in, using the access code you had given him. His prying eyes scanned and noted how orderly you left your room. And even after some time away, the room still smelled like you. Like citrus blooms on a winter morning.

Loki lent you some practice daggers a while ago and was keen to get them back. They were dull and lightweight. Perfect for beginner enthusiasts like the Widow, who wanted to add a new skill to her ledger. Whom Loki had promised to train, alongside you, in Asgardian combat.

Loki rummaged through your bookshelves, thinking you might have stashed them along with your books and souvenirs from your travels. He knew you loved to read. Your voracious appetite for mysteries and novels rivaled his own. He noted Robert Frost and Agatha Christie situated alongside the many romance novels.

Peculiar, he thought. He’d never known you to be interested in such fiction. You two had always discussed classic literature or Asgardian poetry. A Cheshire grin appeared on his face as he took a book with brightly colored Post-it notes sticking out of the top pages. He opened the paperback to a dog-eared page that was clearly read and reread extensively.

Lucy moaned as Cade’s fingers dipped inside her wet pussy. Trills of pleasure ran up her spine, making her unable to stand any longer. He gently stroked her as he whispered on her neck, “Don’t fight it, baby. Let go for me.”

Loki shut the book closed with wide eyes and a wider grin on his face. “Well, well, well. Who knew that the Avenger’s little darling liked to read smut?!” He said to himself looking at the volumes of romance books you had. He was quite impressed by your ability to surprise him. He thought he had you figured out. He might have to tease you about this when you return from your mission.

Loki searched your closet next, but he couldn’t find the daggers. He combed through hangers of clothing and shelves of shoe boxes till he stumbled upon several silk bags with rope tie enclosures. One bag had the length and shape of the daggers he was searching for. How sweet of her to care for the daggers and stash them in a silk purse. Loki opened the bag and reached in but was again surprised at what he found.

He pulled out a black, patent leather collar with a gold buckle. Glistening under the bright closet light, was a heart-shaped tag, hanging from the center. The name ‘Darling’ was inscribed in cursive. Stunned, Loki looked inside the sateen bag and pulled out what he mistook for his daggers- a short, riding crop that matched the patent leather of the collar. Hanging from the handle was a gold chain that had a tag etched, ‘Darling’s Master.’

An intrusive fantasy came unbidden in his mind. It was of you on all fours, with the collar adorning your neck and him standing behind you rubbing the tip of the crop against your dripping heat. “What other deliciousness are you hiding, my dear?” he whispered as he stowed the collar and whip and reached for another silk purse. Every bag he opened had a different set of negligees. Each one was more lascivious than the last.

The smile on his lips got darker as his body started responding to the different scenarios playing in his head. Each scene- novel and unique, to the set of lingerie he opened. More than once, he had to stop himself from reaching inside and rubbing the fine lace between his fingers. “Nope! No,” he chided himself. “Focus. I’m here for the daggers.” Loki took one last look and walked away before he could swipe one of your lace panties and put it in his back pocket like some pervert. “Daggers. Daggers…where are you daggers…”

He couldn’t stop smiling at the revelation he found. Memories of his last interaction with you played in his head under a new context. It was as if he was seeing you in a different light. Truth be told, he did always find you attractive. But he never once pursued it thinking it wouldn’t be favored by you, or any of the team. You didn’t get the title “The Avenger’s Little Darling” for nothing. You were beloved by all. And he was the untrustworthy, extra baggage that the team had to deal with so they could have Thor on their side.

He knew he couldn’t have you.

One last place he looked was your bedside table. If it’s not here, she must have taken them with her. Opening the drawer, Loki shouldn’t have been surprised at what he found, but he felt an exhilarating chill crawl throughout his body, nonetheless. A vibrator. A large, blue, silicone toy that was tapered at the end, was resting neatly inside. You naughty little minx.

Loki couldn’t help the state of arousal he was in. He stood up and stared at your toy, his fingers running puzzled against his lips. He imagined you spread on your bed, lost in the throes of your passion. What do you think about when you have your toy tucked inside your wet cunt? Who’s name do you moan when you’re at the edge of your climax about to fall? And how can he conspire to make sure you think of him?

Surprised, Loki looked up as he heard the keypad of your door unlocking. In a senseless rush, he closed your drawer and cloaked himself invisible. He didn’t want anyone to find him snooping around your belongings. He stood still as he blended with the shadows of your room.

He shouldn’t have hid. You did give him the access code to your room. You trusted him enough to be in here. But there was something so intimate about the things he found. He felt exposed and guilty. Loki didn’t want anyone to think of him being nefarious with you.

A small sigh of relief flooded him when he realized it was you, back from your assignment. He opened his mouth to speak and announce his presence, but he couldn’t. So many questions rushed through his mind. He wanted to ask all of them! Yet, he was struck immovable by your presence.

Had you always been so lovely? Had your eyes always been that bright and alluring? Your smile, an invitation for his lips?

Were his discoveries about you finally shedding light as to who you might be, underneath the perfect façade you seem to have cultivated for yourself? Everything he found was, he swore to the gods, erotic and arousing. But it was the fact that you surprised him that made his level of attraction to you grow.

You walked in with a heavy sigh, setting your duffel bag down on your bed and your boots onto the floor. You didn’t bother turning on your lights, as you zipped your body suit down and peeled off your armor. A rather tame set of black lace underwear shaped your body. Your exposed skin turned a rich shade in the darkness of your room.

Loki noted some bruises and scars peppering your body. The fresh welts were colored green and blue indicating they were recent and most likely acquired from your latest mission. You massaged your neck and rolled your shoulders trying to ease the ache settling into your bones.

Loki watched as you made your way, routinely, to your en suite and turned on the lights. A loud rush of water from the shower rumbled through, disturbing the silence that had enveloped you both. It took his entire strength as a god to keep standing where he was and not follow you to watch.

New fantasies came unbidden in his mind of you naked and wet in the shower. I need to leave. I need to depart before I do something that both of us would regret.  He waited till he heard you close your shower door. The water made loud splashes as it hit against different curves of your body.

A few more minutes and Loki found he could move again. With a shaky breath, he exhaled and made his way to your door. He would’ve continued if it weren’t for your small sighs. Soft moans and whimpers traveled to his god-like hearing. She’s touching herself?!

Loki balled his fist to elicit pain. His fingernails dug deep into the pad of his palms, trying to overcome the overwhelming state of arousal he was in.

“…Loki…”

He stopped and nearly fell to his knees. You said his name! The honeyed tones of your moans dripped over him. Coating his entire body in primal need until it reached his cock and hardened.

He couldn’t leave now. He wouldn’t. He turned on his heel and slowly lifted his cloak, risking everything by pushing the door slightly more open.

Loki licked his lips at the sight of you lost in your orgasm. Your head was thrown back as water trickled down your body. The droplets guiding his eyes down…

…down…

…to where your fingers played with your aching cunt. Your hands explored your curves. Every dip. Every hollow. Every scrumptious mound that he wanted to devour himself.

He stood at your en suite door, his arms holding the frame above his head. He didn’t trust himself to come closer to you. Not until you allowed it. Not until you saw how his eyes became ravenous at the sight of you touching yourself to thoughts of him.

“Loki!? What the hell are you doing?” you screamed out, startled. His eyes traveled back up to yours as you finally acknowledged his presence. Your body turned flush from the heat of the water and the embarrassing situation you found yourself in.

Loki freed himself from your door and tried to answer. Nothing came out but a quivering breath and a small growl of desire. His eyes narrowed and he bit his lip. He took a step forward and closed your bathroom door behind him making your heart drop.  He slowly made his way to you. Sluggish feet carrying him across your tiled floors. “Don’t stop on my account, Darling.”

“Why are you here?” you demanded.

“I heard you call out my name. And I am nothing if not a benevolent god who answers your prayers.” It was as if a switch was turned on and Loki couldn’t stop until he had you.

He watched you back into the tile of your shower. You looked like a caged animal put there for his viewing pleasure. “Why are you here?!” you repeated. It’s too late to be demure. He’s seen everything.

“I came looking for the daggers I lent you. I looked everywhere in your room. I couldn't find them.” Loki’s voice was deep but clear. You could hear the dangerous desire in his tone as he reached for the door to your shower. On instinct, you reached for the handle, stopping him from opening it.

The chase became real. He had to have you. The last hour he spent combing through your suggestive belongings had built a naughty little version of you in his head. Like a puzzle. It was the most erotically charged moment he’d ever spent. And now? Now, you were denying him!

“Last chance, Darling. If you want me to leave now, say so,” he said with a smile. “But I promise you this. I won’t stop till I have you.” His breath steamed the glass doors. Your heart pounded inside your chest as you looked into his dark eyes.

You let go of the handle and stepped back. Loki opened the door slowly, anticipation building up and pooling in between your thighs. “Good girl.”

Loki walked into your shower, still clothed. The scalding water penetrated through his white cotton shirt making it translucent under the spray. You could trace the lines of his muscle underneath.  His hair became slick and affixed itself against his face. He towered over you, as he leaned over with one arm against the shower wall.

Fuck!

He lowered his face. His nose brushed against the tip of yours and you could taste his breath against your lips. “What were you thinking about?” he asked looking deep into your eyes. “And remember, I can tell when you’re lying.”

You quivered at his voice. You looked down embarrassed. “No, no. Look at me.” He said grabbing your chin and forcing you to look back at him. He kept his fingers on your face, gently stroking your jaw.

“I was thinking about you,” you admitted. Your voice was so small. You felt so fragile in his hands.

“Go on, sweet thing. What prayer can your god answer for you tonight?” he encouraged. You were mesmerized by his stare. His voice lulled you to a sense of heat and longing.

“I pictured…touching you,” you started. “I fantasized about your body holding mine.” Loki licked his lips and the tip of his tongue brushed against your mouth. It tingled and the sensation moved throughout your body, awakening every cell within it.

“Like this?” he asked, grabbing your hand gently and placing it underneath his soaked shirt. He guided your hand up his torso and held it there. You could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he guided you over his stiff nipple and then down his lean abs.

Loki didn’t take his eyes off you once. He watched how your eyes widened at his boldness. How your lips parted when you finally touched him. How your whole body moved just a fraction closer to him, capturing him in a lust-filled haze of his own.

He continued steering your hand down his body, past the hem of his pants to his aching bulge. He was big. And hard. You couldn’t imagine what he would look like, what he would feel like, once he took it out. He kept your hand on his cock, driving your hand up and down. “Keep your hand on me,” he instructed. The steam from the shower did little to prevent the shiver that ran down your spine. Nor did it hide the wetness that was now dripping from you.

“Can you feel how hard I am for you?” his arms encircled your body, pulling you closer to him. His mouth incased your lips in an uncontrollable kiss. He weaved his deft fingers into your wet hair, pulling your head back to kiss you at a deeper angle.  He inhaled deeply, smelling the clean scent of your soap and shampoo.

He groaned into your mouth when he felt your hand reach inside his pants and squeeze him tightly. Loki’s eyes rolled back as you expertly palmed his stiff cock. You felt the veins pulsing in your fingertips as you pumped his dick mercilessly. He leaned over you, caging you between the wall and his eager body.

“Don’t stop, Darling,” he whimpered in your ear. “Don’t stop.” Loki bucked his hips into your hands. He captured your lips one last time before he moaned your name, releasing the pent-up arousal he’d been holding in. He fell apart in your hands, and you continued till you milked every last drop from him.

Before the water could wash away your efforts, you licked off two of your fingers, tasting his offerings. “There she is,” he said with a devilish grin. He was waiting for the real you to come forth. You seemed so demure and shy at the beginning. Nothing at all like what he found out you were. The one who reads erotic novels over and over again. The one who hides their toy on the bedside table, ready to go. The one who has a patent leather collar with their pet name etched into it.

Loki growled at the memory. He will see you in that collar. He’ll make sure of it. “But for now, I want a taste,” he said to himself. Loki started with your mouth, sampling himself in your kiss. You winced slightly when he reached for your waist. Reacting from a sensitive bruise that you acquired from your mission.

“Do you think your body can handle a couple more bruises from me, Darling?” he asked earnestly. You swallowed thickly and nodded. Loki proceeded to grab your hips and hold you in place, while his mouth eagerly marked your neck. He continued down to the base of your throat as he knelt in front of you. He captured your breasts with his tongue, paying them each attention. Your hands rested on his shoulders, gathering the white cotton in your hands as you fisted it.

When he reached your stomach, he was gentle and sweet. His hands secured your waist, pushing you slightly higher. “Wrap your leg around me,” he directed. You obeyed and placed your left leg on his shoulder.

Drips of water still fell from the shower. Loki licked and slurped each drop that fell onto your thighs. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide stripe on your warm cunt. “Fuck…Loki,” you screamed when he latched onto your nub, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. He looked up at you and watched you as you threw your head back, your ecstasy showing through.

“Did you like that, Darling?”

“Mmyes,” you whined. “God, yes!”

Loki repeated his actions, holding onto your thigh, as he savored your clit. You couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. Your knees were weakening, and you had nothing to hold onto as your hands slipped against the tile of your shower wall. “Loki, please,” you panted.

“I need to be inside you,” he moaned. The sooner he can make you cum in here, the sooner he can properly bed you on top of your sheets. He looked deep into your eyes and you almost didn’t recognize him. Hunger and desperation were hanging on his brows. The sight of him in between your legs, the feel of his lips latching onto your folds, the weight of his fingers thrusting inside you. It was all-encompassing and all too consuming.

“Oh, God! Loki!” you screamed as he inserted another finger. You laced your hand through his drenched hair, pulling every time his tongue flicked your nub. “Please, I need you inside me too. I need…” your breathing came in harsher. The steam almost suffocating you as you come closer and closer to that edge, waiting to fall.

“Don’t fight it, Darling. Let go for me,” Loki quoted your book, making you clench around his fingers. One last thrust into you and you screamed your release. Loki lapped up your swollen pussy with a greedy smile, making you shudder.

Hours later, you and Loki were lying on the floor of your room. Blankets and pillows surround you while your legs and arms tangle with each other, holding each other tightly. You were running your finger up and down his chest as he read aloud a passage from one of your “smutty romance books,” as he called them.  

His voice was magnetic and hypnotizing. Every word he said came to life inside your head. “Hmm, we might have to re-enact this one,” he teased after he finished a scene.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, hoping he didn’t hear the last word you said. It just came out. You couldn’t stop yourself from saying it. From bending to his will and wanting to please him.

“I was curious about something,” he grinned, biting his lip. “Which I hope you can enlighten me...”

“Yes?”

“When I was looking for the daggers, I came across this.” He conjured up your patent leather collar and held it up against the dim light. He next conjured up the matching riding crop and showed you the tag that was hanging from the handle. “Who was your master?” Loki asked, unsure whether he wanted to know the answer. “Why do you have this and not them?”

“I never had one,” you admitted sheepishly. “I bought that in hopes of using it one day. But we never worked out.”

“I see,” he said with a devious smirk.

“It was so pretty. I couldn’t just get rid of it.”

“Sit up. Hold your hair, while I put this on you.” You obeyed his instructions. A pool of desire is already forming in between your legs as he tightens the collar around your neck. The heart-shaped tag, ‘Darling’ felt heavy and cold as he placed it neatly on the base of your throat.

Loki wiped his thumb over the tag of the whip. Newly etched, in bold letters, was his name instead. “Well, it’s mine now, darling,” he grinned as he tested the switch on his hand. The sharp thwack stung his palm. Your heart started beating quicker.

“On your knees,” he growled.

“Yes, sir.”

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief ++

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

Gojo Satoru SFW alphabet (NB)

HELLO ALL. This is part one of my super awesome 100 follower celebration! Coming up next is the Gojo Satoru NSFW Alphabet, and, despite all that is good and holy, the Katsuki Bakugou SFW/NSFW alphabet. I know he didn't win the poll, but so many of my followers are here for Katsuki centric content, so it only makes sense to me.

In this, the reader is as nb as I could make them while sticking to my concepts, although there is a "I wanna get u pregnant tee hee" joke that you should probably be aware of.

Cred for template goes to ONE MORE SHOT

Word count: ~6000

Warnings: Cursing, light angst, and...that's it, I think!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) He prefers physical affection above all else...at least, that's what you'd think based on how much he hangs on you when you're together. Always he's touching you, making it so there was no question about whether or not you were together. Truly though, that was just for you. He liked it, loved it, loved any form of affection to and from you, but The thing that gave him the most butterflies was acts of service from you.

He was so used to doing everything for himself, and to being better than others at everything, that he never really knew what it was like to be cared for in that way.

Anyone could technically hug him, or spend time with him, or give him gifts, or tell him he did something good...but only you could make him breakfast before he gets a chance to, or do the dishes more efficiently, or beat a part of a game he can't for some reason. It makes him weak in the knees, like he can relax with you.

"Whatcha doin?"

"Makin' your lunch for tomorrow. Why?" You glance over to him, smiling as you watched him curiously peer over your shoulder.

"...No reason..." He mumbled, a smile growing on his face about as fast as that blush. He brings his arms around your waist, his chin on your head as he watched you work.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You are his best friend. No doubt about it. If you weren't he wouldn't be dating you, it only made sense to him. Was he yours...? He didn't actually know, and to be honest he didn't care. If he wasn't, he'd definitely tease you about it, but otherwise he was perfectly content treating you like his bestie.

"I'm going out with my friends," you called out, slipping on your shoes.

"Why? What about me?" Satoru whined, staring at you with a sarcastic pout from the couch.

"We're gonna be drinking," you laughed, raising your brows.

"...so?"

"So you're a lightweight."

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He's a cuddler, but a lazy cuddler 9 times out of 10. His arm gently around you on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder. His cheek on your scalp as you do literally anything that requires you to stand still (cooking, on the train, grocery shopping). Still, there's that one time where he holds you like you might dissipate if he doesn't.

Maybe after a nightmare, maybe after a mission a bit more dangerous than he or you let on, whatever it was, it was like he might lose you.

He does it when you're asleep, when he thinks you're not conscious enough to feel him being soft. The only reason you know is because sometimes he wakes you up with it, and he's too emotional to notice.

you'd be laying in bed with Satoru, nearly one in the morning, sleeping peacefully. Then, you feel his arms wrap around you, tight enough to wake you up. His mouth would be pressed to the top of your head, his breath slow, as if he were savoring the scent of you.

"You won't leave me, right...?" He wasn't talking to you, really he was talking to himself.

"...nah. You wouldn't..."

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

You know those people who try to go to the gym to get their life together, but really just like the aesthetic and can't follow through? That's Satoru with Domestic life. He'd love to settle down in one spot with you and do all the cute domestic things, like cook dinner every night and go grocery shopping every week, but he just can't focus for that long, he always has to be moving. Changing apartments, trying new restaurants, going wherever on a whim, they were all things he loved and domestic life lacked.

That's what he thinks, and that's what you let him think, but little does he know he hasn't moved in three years (a record for him), You've been "sleeping over" for the entirety of those three years, and you take turns making meals any time you're together, as well as split household chores.

Kids are another thing, he wouldn't willingly have kids. If you two conceived, or somehow managed to accidentally receive a child, he'd be content taking care of it with you, but truthfully he likes the calm personal life he lives, not to mention the fact that it wouldn't be ethical to him to raise a child while living such a dangerous life.

"Have you ever thought about having kids?"

"...getting you pregnant? sure. Kids...not so much."

"ok, good. I don't really want them either."

"We can still try for one, though~"

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He loves you too much to end it for reasons other than external forces, so there are two ways I can write this. One...

He makes himself the bad guy. Being flaky, being extra condescending, ignoring you more. He distances himself in the hopes that you see how bad he's being and call it off. He never wants you to think that he doesn't love you, or that he could ever find anyone better, so he acts like he's the shittiest boyfriend to ever boyfriend. Of course, you inevitably see through this, and he has to be honest.

"Listen...I...We can't do this anymore. You've been through a lot, I've been through a lot, and if we stay together, there are things out there that'll just make it worse. I might be selfish, but I'm not selfish enough to keep you with me when I know it'll hurt you."

And, prompt two would be...

Satoru breaking up with anyone but you, people he doesn't care about...He's ruthless. He could be with his partner at the time in the middle of a date, probably on his phone from the amount of boredom he experiences simply from being in the presence of this person, when he just announces, "Let's break up."

"H-huh?!"

"Yeah, fun while it lasted, it's not you it's me, all that," he sighs, walking off to find something else to quell his boredom.

I would like to say that personally, I think that most of his dating happened early in life, teens to early 20s, before he realized how difficult it would be in his line of work for numerous reasons and eventually gave up. Until he met you, of course.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He is constantly talking about marrying you. He "proposes" once a week, you'd think you were already his fiancé by now.

his head in your lap as he watches you click away on your phone? "Marry me~"

You doing the dishes as he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist? "I'd consummate a wedding so hard with you right now~"

Doing- well, uh, this third example can wait for the NSFW portion.

Long story short, he constantly talks about it, but neither of you truly predict a wedding. First of all, you wouldn't even take his name because of how dangerous it is to be tied to the Gojo clan, and second of all...you're kinda already married. You have everything but the ring and the paper.

You live together, you'll never leave each other (unless a situation like in E arises, in which case it'd be especially helpful to not have the shared legal documents a wedding would bring), and you cook and clean for each other.

Lastly, he doesn't see the appeal. He understands the want to celebrate love, but to him, he doesn't need one special day when he can make every day special. Why buy you one ring for one day when he could buy you a new ring every day? Why put on nice clothes and promise to give you the world one measly evening when he could do just that every Saturday? He was just fine being your forever boyfriend.

"Mmm...Let's have a spring wedding," Satoru cooed, holding you by your hips as you chopped vegetables.

"There's too much pollen in the spring," you countered, an amused smile on your face.

"Winter then?"

"Too cold."

"Summer?"

"Too hot."

"...I'm beginning to think you might not actually wanna marry me." You could just hear the smile in his tone.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

In the SFW sense, he treats you like glass, physically at least. He kisses you with a sort of soft passion, like he wants you to melt in his arms...and you do. He holds you with feather light brushes of his hand, caressing your body and face because you're a work of art. He never wants you to be afraid of him, and although he knows you're strong enough to handle him, he couldn't bear the thought of losing you because he's too rough. He's gentle because he knows what he has.

Emotions are different, they're hard for him, and seeing as he's been through so much he doesn't understand why you get worked up over "little things." When you rant about something annoying that happened to you, he listens, but he doesn't empathize. He's on your side, always, but he's rather indifferent to your daily issues. Because of this, It makes you feel like you can't tell him things because it won't merit the reaction you want from him. He'll try for you, though.

"And so he said that I was being irrational, but I wasn't being irrational, I was..." You trailed off, looking at Satoru's sympathetic yet empty smile. "Do you think I was being irrational?"

"No! Of course not..." he said quickly, sitting up a little straighter. Did he? Well...He didn't...not think you were being irrational...but he also didn't agree with that other guy. Fuck that other guy.

"Well you have to tell me if you do, I don't wanna look stupid..."

"Relax, babe," he sighed, although it wasn't clear even to himself if he was referring to the situation or to you thinking he thought you were in the wrong.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

As I said before, he's constantly hanging on you, his hugs ranging anywhere from a quick squeeze to a desperate clutch. He just always wants to be touching you. That said, he only gives hugs to you. If one of his students or even a colleague hugs him, he'd be fine with that, but he only willingly gives hugs and physical affection to you.

"Whatcha doin?" You looked up at your boyfriend from your seat in front of the couch, who had a controller in his hand, his legs on either side of your body.

"playin video games." That's not what you were asking about, and he knew that.

"...is me being here really necessary?" You glanced down at his arms, which were resting on your shoulders and caging your head between them as his eyes stayed locked on the screen.

"Uh- y- fuck, fuck fuck fuck," he muttered, before GAME OVER scrawled across the screen in big letters. He feigned sadness, using it as an excuse to lean over you, pull you closer to him, and press his face next to yours. "Damn it, now you've gotta make me feel better..."

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

You two were friends long before you started dating, and you didn't start dating until he knew he loved you...or rather, he knew it was safe to. You were strong enough to hold your own against his enemies, so he would never have to worry about you getting hurt, and therefore he could love you without being afraid.

That said, he didn't tell you he loved you until after you told him.

Truth be told...he forgot about it. He was so exited to be able to love you freely that he forgot about actually telling you, after all he had shown it loads before without words.

"Satoru...I love you..." you whispered nervously, confessing to him late at night in his arms.

"Uh-" he practically choked on air, not about the fact that you told him you loved him, but specifically about the fact that you were nervous. You seriously didn't think he'd say it back? Was he that confusing?

"I love you too," he announced quickly, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jealousy? He can't comprehend it. He's not jealous in the slightest, he knows he's special, and he knows you know. That said, he does take the time to remind you how great he is when someone else tries to flirt with you. Buying you a random gift, showering you with praise, doing you a service, whatever it is he thinks he needs to do. It's almost like he's trying to prove it to the other person, even if they're not necessarily there to see it.

"No, Sorry," you say gently to the man who just asked for your number. He wasn't aggressive towards you, he took your rejection nicely, but what bothered Satoru was the fact that he was standing right there. Did he not look enough like your boyfriend? Was he not clearly holding your shopping bags?

He also gave the man a superficial smile, bringing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. "You're too hot for the public, I should keep you inside forever," he teased, kissing your scalp.

He's really not a jealous person. He doesn't worry about anyone taking you away, but he also doesn't want anyone to forget you're his.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses everywhere, all the time. He kisses your head the most, because that's the easiest access for him, but he will and has kissed every inch of your body. He kisses you in different places in different ways for different reactions, and it's all entirely dependent on both of your moods. Trying to cheer you up? A quick peck on the cheek, accompanied by a goofy grin. snuggled up in bed, spooning? a couple kisses on your arm, or little smooches below and slightly behind your ear. I could make a chart of all the kisses and what they mean.

Personally, he likes kisses from you most when he needs them. Nothing eases him better than resting his head on your shoulder as you plant gentle kisses to his forehead. All kisses are loved equally by him, but if he had to pick one kind...those would be it. He couldn't live without them.

You stood in front of the mirror for a moment, frowning slightly as you took a glance at yourself. You didn't feel the most confident today. With a sigh, you moved on, walking back into the bedroom. Satoru saw all of this and knew exactly what was going on, crazy considering the moment lasted all of 3 seconds, and he made his way over to you.

He stood right in front of you, blocking you from your path.

"What're you doing," you ask, laughing a little as he looked down at you curiously.

He smiled, taking your hand by the ends of your fingers, bringing it up to his face as he said, "Nothing..."

He planted a long kiss to your knuckles, giving you those bedroom eyes that made your stomach flutter. "Just admiring you~"

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He finds Little ones entertaining as hell, but as I said before, he wouldn't want one at home. That said, there are some pros and cons to Satoru being around children.

First of all, god forbid they play something competitive because Satoru Gojo isn't taking an L from a 6 year old, that's for sure. tag, hide and seek, pinball, Mario kart, he's crushing spirits in all of them.

Another thing, he treats kids like they're little adults, which is great from a respect standpoint, but not so great when they talk shit. He does not care if he hurts a kid's feelings if they say something rude.

"My mom says you're a Psychopath," the 10 year old says, grinning.

"Yeah? Well my mom says you suck, and also you're bad at math," Satoru says, sticking his tongue out.

On a similar note of taking children too seriously, playing pretend is an art form to him. A friend's kid wants to play magical fairy princesses? He IS a magical fairy princess. His name is Vanessa and he has a magic wand made of glitter and dreams.

Yeah, he thinks kids are the best from an entertainment standpoint, but he knows he's not responsible enough to have any...at least not yet.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He's a morning person to his core, not because he needs to be super efficient and get a ton done, but because he just wakes up early and can't take the time to fall back asleep, especially when you're right next to him. Why try and sleep when he could pick on you?

If you're a morning person like him, you probably wake up around the same time, and get ready for the day together. Washing up, getting dressed, eating. If you're into working out, you two go on little work out morning dates.

If you're a night owl, he will pester the hell out of you until you do, kissing your neck and mumbling in your ear and flipping you around in all different directions. If your willpower is strong, and you don't get out of bed, he will first snap a ton of photos of you before getting up himself and getting his day started.

It depends on what time you wake up, but you could find that the apartment is empty from him going to work out, or full with the sound of him simply living. You usually find breakfast made for you, all 5 food groups, sometimes you eat together sometimes you don't get the chance to.

"Had to go to work early, you're hot love, Your Perfect Boyfriend"

That note was placed neatly over a little metal box, the contents being a warm waffle with chocolate sauce and berries. The sauce still had it's structure despite sitting in a metal container with a hot waffle, meaning he just left.

Damn it...he is perfect.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Every night with Satoru is different, It all depends on how both of your days went. If work was especially hard for either of you, the night would consist of at home activities, like playing videogames or watching a movie.

If you both had a bit of an easier day, especially over the weekend, you went on dates, and that could be anything. It ranged from going to a park and walking around, from going to a Michelin star restaurant and eating something deconstructed.

Of course, no matter what it was, dessert was happening at a place that was made for dessert. Patisseries, Ice creameries, cookie shops, whatever it was, it was always a part of the date.

"You're so gorgeous," Satoru sighed dreamily, resting his chin on his hand.

"Well you're gorgeous too," You laughed, looking up at him. "Although, I do think I can do better than sweats," you said, looking down at yourself.

You both were sitting on the couch, waiting for Mario Kart to boot up as you ate some gelato Satoru stocked up on during his trip to Italy.

"Nahhhh. 'S perfect."

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

You still don't know everything about him. After so many years, friends to best friends to lovers, he still hasn't told you everything. You can probably think of one time he's been open with you, after going out and getting drinks with the usually sober Satoru. You remember having to cut yourself off early in order to care for him, calling the night and taking him home.

He ended up sat on the floor, back to the wall as he was wheezing at how the word "company" sounded like it started with a different word, his head on your shoulder.

After he calmed down, he said, "Y'know, I don't deserve you," he laughed, smiling at you with a red face.

"What're you talking about," you said with a nervous chuckle. "You do..."

"No, nonononono, 's ok, I don't," He said hurriedly, putting his hand on your shoulder. "I mean, you're actually too good for me," he slurred, looking into your eyes.

"What do you mean? what makes you so 'unworthy'?"

"Mmnnnnnn...have you killed someone?" He got all serious, nose to nose with you, before whispering, "I did...It wasn't fun, but I hadta..."

He sounded sheepish, like he was scared. Gojo Satoru was scared.

You weren't as upset as you could have been, being a sorcerer meant you understood having to take...drastic measures. After light encouragement, you managed to get most of the story out...er, stories, plural. He has a checkered past, and while you're pretty sure he doesn't remember that conversation, you want him to feel like you can listen, and any time he wants to open up again, you'll be more than ready to.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has optional patience. He's not going to wait in a line without some sort of entertainment for longer than 5 minutes, but he also is willing to work tirelessly for years and years to reach a goal. He just can't stand doing nothing, he needs to be doing something always.

Now, if it came to anger, he has the patience of a saint. When you get to the level of power he has, getting angry over something below the injury of loved one just felt stupid to him. Now, if you get into a fight, he does get worked up (obviously), but he doesn't get mad so much as frustrated. "Ah, shit," he sighed, sounding nothing more than peeved. You glanced over, eyes widening as you saw his piping hot coffee not in his mug, but in his lap.

"D...Doesn't that...hurt?"

"Me? Nah," He says, standing to go change.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He's weird because he pretends like he knows nothing, but it seems like he truly knows everything. If you challenged him to some game where you quiz him on the things he knows about you, he's walking away with first place. He just likes listening to you talk about your interests. You told him about your favorite show 3 years ago and he remembers the entire plot, but...

"Hey, have you heard about [enter show here]?" He was sitting on the couch, remote in hand.

"Oh, yeah! God, I used to love that show," you said excitedly, walking over and sitting next to him.

"Yeah? What's it about?" He's so in love with you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment is when he realized he's in love in you. He remembers the day clearly, you two were messing around with some weak curses, or at least weak to you, and he noticed then that you could keep up with him.

YOU could keep up with HIM.

It's not like he thought you were weak or anything, he just couldn't believe that there was another on his level. It's lonely at the top, and he came to terms with that, but the idea that he could have someone joining him was kind of mind blowing.

Maybe this wasn't when he realized he loved you, but it was when he realized he was allowed to.

"What," you ask him, laughing a little as you land a deadly blow on a curse before he could. He was just staring at you, a mixture of curiosity and adoration on his face.

He just turned and smiled, laughing a little to himself. "Nothin'..."

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He knows you don't need him to protect you, and for the most part he rather enjoys that, but he will get defensive over you when it comes to the slander of your name. Physically, you can handle yourself, and he knows that if someone were to be rude to you directly, you could handle yourself, but when someone is talking about you when you're not around, you can't defend yourself. That's where he comes in, your very own security guard.

He's not normally an aggressive person, you don't really like that side of him, and so if you're not there to see it, it's like it never happened.

"(Y/N)? Ugh, I hate that class...yeah, exactly! Right, sooo annoying... I just can't stand- Exactly...! And always getting of track..."

A girl on the phone, a brand new student at the Kyoto Sister school where you worked. Satoru was visiting to eat lunch with you. Lucky him, to over hear something like this.

He catches up to her, only needing to take a couple long steps.

"Oh! Are you a student of (Y/N)," he asks cheerfully. She was immediately weak in the knees, it was inevitable given his looks and status.

"Uhhhhh, yeah! Sir!" Meanwhile, her friend on the other line kept saying, "Is that Gojo Satoru? Are you talking to Gojo Satoru?!"

"I know (Y/N), actually," He said, looking down at the girl with a smile, the angry glare in his eyes hidden behind his mask.

"Really," she asks absently, before looking between him and the phone in realization. "W- uh, I was just-"

"What's your name?" The two of them stopped walking, Satoru's cheerful tone taking an underpainting of malice.

"uhm...A-Ayako..."

"Ayako..." He repeats, committing the name to memory.

"You don't go here anymore, Okay Ayako?"

Her jaw drops, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in his words.

"You...You can't- I didn't- That's not fair and-"

"Yeahhhh, it sucks, huh? you just weren't Jujutsu High material, sorry," he says apathetically, perhaps even joyfully, walking off to eat lunch with the love of his life.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He doesn't try because doing things for you is effortless for him. I went into dates a lot in M and N, so I won't be touching on that so much here.

Anniversaries are always filled with gifts and outings, so much so that you feel inadequate trying to provide for him in that area. You could get him tons of seemingly perfect gifts, and yet somehow he still outdid you. He didn't mean to (mostly), he just really loved you and loved showing that.

To top it off, his reactions to your gifts aren't really all that grandiose. He tries, but you can tell it's feigned.

"Open it," you say excitedly, smiling wide as you hand him a black box. You were both sitting on the couch, it was his nary celebrated birthday, at least before you.

He sets the box on the coffee table before him and does so, inside a bottle of high end cologne.

"Wow," he says coolly, opening it and giving it a whiff. "Smells good," he muses sweetly, giving you a smile.

You groan, hanging your head with a wry laugh. "If you don't like it we can get it replaced," you sigh, smiling with some dissapointment.

"I do like it," he exclaims, moving to your side to comfort you with concern. "See, I'm gonna wear it, watch," he says, spritzing it on.

You laugh, he was so adorable.

Truly, he loves your gifts and puts them to use, but what really excites him is simply being with you. He likes taking the time to just be normal with you, or as close to normal as you guys can get.

He likes buying you stuff daily, small things like candy or some new lipstick, he just sees it and thinks of you. As I said before, he doesn't really try all that hard, he almost never has, and that's what's so great for him.

He used to worry about if he'd be able to even show his love for someone if he ever found himself in the situation, and to see that he's getting the message across with little strain is exciting to him.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

What. A. Flake. You can never tell if he's going to turn up to important events, and if he does he's always late. The thing is, when he really cares he shows up punctually, which means he has the capability to be reliable. There have definitely been more meetings than you can count where you've had to cover for him, as well as fights he's been late for because he wants to make a grand entrance.

"where have you been," you chide in a hushed tone, watching as he casually plops down next to you. "I had to tell them you were having an emergency," you scoff, pinching his arm.

"You did?" He looks at the annoyed expressions of his bosses and coworkers, cocking his head slightly with a sly grin. "Yeah, no, I wasn't, just didn't feel like coming," he admits carelessly, shrugging. Idiot.

Relationship wise, he's had some issues with respect. He sometimes treats you and your issues like they're unimportant, and maybe they are, but dammit they're important to you! He got better about this eventually, but not after tons of hardheaded arguments about this ugly trait.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

if I had to pick one word to describe Satoru...well, it'd be cocky, but if I had to pick another it'd be effortless. He doesn't take concern with his looks because he needs to do nothing to look so good. That's just how he is, and he knows it. He places some amount of value in his appearance, but overall he's not too vain. He has confidence, is all.

"Man, You sure are lucky to have such a hot boyfriend," Satoru sighs sarcastically, teasing his hair in the mirror while you put on your shoes.

"Yeah? You sayin' I couldn't get one normally," you ask tauntingly, raising your brows.

"Hey..." he says, knowing he had fallen into a trap.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He wants so dearly to not need you, but he knows he does. He knows he just might break if he loses you. You're his other half, you make him whole. A break up, he could handle, because there was still the hope of having you back, but if you died...

I can't write an example of this, I can't do it justice. The pain, the absolute and ineffable pain of losing yet another of the few people he got close to would eat him away until there's nothing left, and you just can't put that, in all of its horrific beauty, in simple words.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

a little something xtra for you...He loves his mask and sunglasses for the extra benefit of not being exposed for staring at you. His eyes are constantly on you, figuratively or literally, and if he were anyone else he wouldn't be able to take down his enemies with you there because of how distracted he would be. He was him, though, and he could very much multitask. He also has a habit of flirting or messing with you during meetings, taking down curses, training, really at any time.

Satoru, on the other side of the meeting table, was stretched out, arms behind his head. His foot was touching yours, it was kind of cute in a way.

Then, he nudged your ankle a little, and you looked over at him with curiosity. He didn't look at you, keeping his eyes on who was speaking. You nudged him back, and he smiled, which means he did that on purpose.

He nudges you, you nudge him.

Then the nudging becomes playful kicking.

Then the playful kicking becomes competitive kicking.

Then the competitive kicking becomes getting scolded by both of the headmasters.

His grin never leaves his face.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

First of all, greek yoghurt pisses him off. Yoghurt should be sweet and frozen, and nothing else. Give him greek yoghurt, god forbid he takes a bite because the unpleasant surprise will lead to half an hour of talking about how horrible it is. Yuck.

More seriously, he doesn't like people who think they're better than they are. He deals with them frequently, in the form of stupid curses trying to take him on, and he takes pleasure in putting them in their place.

He's of the mind that He earned being cocky, because he's actually just that powerful and good at everything, and therefore anyone else that's cocky has to earn it too.

when it comes to humans he can't eradicate, he simply shows off his power with as much leisure as possible, just to prove he's a million times better than the offending.

"Guess what," Satoru says on the phone, his smile audible.

'What," you ask cheerfully, knowing a good story was coming, or at least one he thinks is good.

"So I was fighting this curse, right?"

"Right..."

"Well, it was already annoying because it was stupidly weak, but it still came after me, and this thing..."

He kept talking, going on and on about how weak and annoying the thing was, and you simply smiled as you listened. Adorable.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He's a complete bed hog, he takes up all the space you give him. He starfishes out, snoring like a vacuum cleaner, and when he's not doing that he's tossing and turning.

The only remedy for this was, surprisingly, getting closer. If you sleep next to him, he can't sprawl out. If you sleep holding onto his arm, his limbs on that side of his body are still for the rest of the night. If you lay with your head on his chest, making sure you fall asleep with his arms around you...all of him stays still and in one spot. A couple other poses work for this too, spooning of any kind, a honeymoon hug, things where you're practically fused together. Summer is a hard time for you two.

Another thing he does is mumble in his sleep. It's nothing too crazy, most of the time unintelligible, but every once in a while you can hear some keywords. You've found that whatever's most prominent in his life at the time is what he talks about. You don't really get any insight to how his mind works or anything, it's just a cute habit of his.

"Mmmn...Zzz...donrelgtothedohmvie...."

You smile, letting out a little puff of laughter from your nose as you strain to hear him.

"Yogottabkddngmbaby...."

Baby! That was a word.

You tried listening in for more, but you really heard nothing else...nothing else, of course, besides your name.

Ok, this took my like a month, which is wayyy longer than my usual stuff.

and, if we're being honest... ᴵ ᴴᶦᵗ ¹⁰⁰ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ² ʷᵉᵉᵏˢ ᵃᵍᵒ

but I'm only a few over so it still counts!? Love you, get ready for the next thing, and Let me know how this was and if you agree or disagree with my headcannons!

[danika-redgrave124]

Umbra Witch Yuu Ramshackle Super Mirror Events Part 1

Scary Monsters

A black witch hat with a wide brim, adorned with a purple ribbon around it. The purple ribbon has a subtle black spiderweb pattern and is finished with a large purple bow with black stripes. There's a mini black bow with sparkles on top of the larger bow and a black skull sits in the center of mini bow.

Yuu's hair is styled in long flowing waves with dark purple highlights, complementing the purple accents of the hat.

A sleek black corset with intricate purple embroidery in the shape of arcane and spiderweb patterns. The corset has silver accents and a dark, shimmering sheen.

The neckline is adorned with a delicate, high lace collar that adds an elegant touch. The corset laces up the front with dark purple ribbons.

Black puffed sleeves with a subtle spiderweb pattern and purple trim, giving a dramatic and witchy appearance.

Skirt: A high-waisted, asymmetrical skirt made of layers of black and purple chiffon, creating a flowing and ethereal look. The skirt is decorated with a subtle spiderweb patterns and small, sparkling black and purple gemstones. The skirt has dark purple, form-fitting leggings underneath.

Cape: A short tattered cape made of black and purple fabric, adding a touch of mystery and dark elegance.

Accessories

Gloves: Long, black gloves with purple lace trim and small, silver spider charms.

Boots: High-heeled, knee-high black boots with purple laces and silver accents.

Bullet Color: Purple with black spiderweb at the end of the casing.

Fairy Gala

A delicate gold Headband with intricate white and gold floral appliqués. The Headband features small, sparkling gemstones at the center of each flower.

Hairstyle: Yuu's hair is styled known soft, elegant waves. The hair is adorned with white and gold floral pins, giving a fresh and ethereal appearance.

Dress

A flowing floor-length gown made of pure white satin with gold accents. The frabic has luxurious sheen and is lightweight, enchancing the gowns graceful movement

Design: The gown features a fitted bodice with delicate gold embroidery in the shape of flowers and vines. The sweetheart neckline is adorned with white and gold floral detailing, giving a romantic touch.

Sleeves: The gown has off-the-shoulder sleeves made of sheer white tulle, embellished with subtle gold floral patterns that create a dreamy, delicate look.

Bottom

The skirt is made of layers of soft white stain and tulle, creating a voluminous and airy effect. The outer layer of the skirt features gold floral embroidery and small, white, three-dimensional floral appliqués scattered throughout.

A long, flowing train extends from the back of the gown, adorned with scattered gold floral motifs and a soft, shimmering finish.

Accessories

Gloves: Long, white satin gloves that reach past the elbows, with delicate gold floral embroidery at the cuffs.

Shoes: Elegant, high-heeled white stain shoes with gold floral embellishments, completing the sophisticated and ethereal look.

Bullet Color: Gold and White with a white flower at the end of the casing.

Luxe Couture

Yuu's hair is styled in elegant updo with loose curls cascading down their back. The updo is decorated with small, sparkling silver and sapphire hairpins.

Dress

A luxurious, floor-length gown made of shimmering midnight blue satin and black lace. The frabic has a subtle, iridescent quality that catches the light beautifully.

The gown features a fitted bodice with intricate black lace detailing and silver embroidery. The neckline is a graceful sweetheart shape, adorned with delicate pearl and sapphire embellishments.

Sleeves: The gown has off-the-shoulder sleeves made of sheer black lace, adding a touch of delicate sophistication.

Bottom

Skirt: The skirt flows gracefully to the floor, with layers of soft satin and tulle creating a voluminous and elegant silhouette. The outer layer of the skirt is adorned with Silver embroidery and sapphire accents, forming intricate patterns that sparkle as Yuu moves.

Accessories

Gloves: Long, black satin Gloves that reach past the elbows, adorned with Silver lace and small sapphire stones at the cuffs.

Shoes: Elegant high-heeled black satin shoes with silver and sapphire detailing, completing the sophisticated look.

Bullet Color: Silver and Sapphire with a pearl at the casing.

Wish Upon A Star

A celestial diadem adorned with gold stars. The diadem has intricate designs of swirling galaxies and shimmering constellations.

Yuu's hair is styled in long flowing waves. The hair is adorned with shimmering constellations acessories.

Dress

A luxurious floor-length gown made of shimmering midnight blue satin and gold-threaded lave. The frabic has an iridescent quality, reflecting light like the night sky filled with stars.

The gown features a fitted bodice with intricate gold embroidery depicting constellations and galaxies. The neckline is an elegant V-shape, adorned with small, sparkling gems that resemble stars.

The gown has sheer, long sleeves made of midnight blue lavender with subtle gold patterns of stars, adding a touch of ethereal elegance.

Skirt: The skirt flows gracefully to the floor, with layers of soft midnight blue satin and gold tulle creating a voluminous and elegant silhouette. The outer layer of the skirt is adorned with gold embroidery and midnight blue gems, forming intricate patterns of constellations that shimmer as Yuu moves.

Train: A long, flowing train extends from the back of the gown, featuring golden celestial motifs and midnight blue frabic that gives the illusion of a starry night sky.

Accessories

Gloves: Long, midnight blue stain gloves that reach past the elbows, adorned with gold lace trim and small star motifs at the cuffs.

Shoes: Elegant, high-heeled midnight blue satin shoes.

Bullet Color: Midnight Blue with a gold star at the end of the casing.

Super Mirror

Compact Design

The compact is designed to resemble an exquisite, secret lock. It has a polished, mirror-like exterior with a subtle floral and lace pattern engraved in silver and gold. The front of the compact features a delicate, intricate lock. The edges are adorned with tiny, sparkling in gems in black, silver, and midnight blue colors.

The compact opens with a hidden key that is also an elegant pendant. When opened, it reveals a mirrored interior framed by delicate lace-like patterns and softer hues.

Contains

Scary Monsters Costume Couture Bullet

Fairy Gala Costume Couture Bullet

Luxe Couture Costume Couture Bullet

Wish Upon A Star Costume Couture Bullet

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

Ed's Outfit 1 and Outfit 2

Soo...what kicked this off was me looking at Ed's outfits and relating them to real boxers and trainers. I've just been passively watching boxing videos and noting the stylistic choices Capcom decided to use for Ed and Balrog. And how some things so minor to Ed can still be used as a way to show character growth.

This little rant is going to be focused on Outfit 2 and a little on Outfit 1. Not so much so Outfit 3.

The first major thing I noticed was his Red Gloves in Outfit 2 and I originally thought they were the ones with the velcro strap that most Boxers today use. But they're actually the lace-up ones, that a lot of old-school boxers use.

Lace-up gloves usually require the help of another person to lace up them up for you. This is usually fine in a gym or before a fight, but it can be a pain when training alone. They’re slower to put on and take off, so they are not ideal for shorter bursts of training.

Lace ends could cut opponents, so the gloves are usually taped up at the wrist when fighting.

Glove tape is intended to prevent scratches, scrapes, and cuts from loose laces or velcro. It secures the lace or velcro in place, ensuring the gloves stay in place for the duration of the match. Lastly, glove tape offers an extra level of wrist support.

Storywise, I believe Balrog would've laced them up for Ed and taped down the laces every time Ed would've put this outfit on.

And you can see it in this shot of his gloves.

Another interesting detail about his gloves that Capcom included was the NS on the tape.

Of course In-Game it's meant to represent NeoShadaloo. But there's a purpose for signing the tape in Real life.

In boxing, this is done to ensure that the hand wraps are not tampered with after being inspected and approved by a boxing official. The official’s signature on a boxer's tape confirms that the wraps comply with regulations and haven’t been altered to provide an unfair advantage or added protection.

This has to be done when they are in the room or else they'll make the fighters do it all over again.

I could imagine the officials being on Ed's ass about this when the news broke out that he was training under Balrog. Moreso, not to lead into any foul play.

I'm not going to go too in-depth about the boxing Ed uses but know that because he doesn't have any formal padding in his Outfit 1, his fighting is considered bare-knuckles.

Bare-knuckle fighting today is growing popular in the underground scene.

And since Ed isn't hanging around Balrog like he used to, he probably opted to just use his wraps as the only form of protection for his hands.

ps. But boxers in the ring still wrap their hands before putting them in gloves to prevent any injuries to their hands.

Of course, in Ed's Outfit 1 he's dawning on some Boxing boots, but I can't say the same for his Outfit 2.

Most boxing boots are lightweight and they have a flat bottom to help boxers pivot and rotate, for technical movements. 

But for day-to-day training, the tread at the bottom of the shoe gets worn down fairly quickly and boxers burn through multiple pairs within a year.

The only downside to them is that they are pretty expensive so most boxers would save them until they step into the ring.

And although they have a high top, the shoes don’t provide a lot of support for the ankles. 

And since Ed doesn’t burn through many pairs of clothing like he used to in SFV, it seems reasonable that he would have a couple of official boxing shoes other than the ones shown in Outfit 1.

Another common shoe that boxers like to train in is Basketball shoes. 

Most boxing shoes that have a low top, still have a flat bottom and in the pictures above, it looks to be thicker. 

Like I mentioned before in SFV, Ed grew up relatively fast and he mentioned in his arcade mode how he kept growing into a new set of clothes every month.

Personally, I don’t think Balrog would’ve gotten Ed any official boxing gear until he settled into his own body. So basketball shoes are the way to go. 

It’s also good for newer boxers because of the density and weight. They typically protect the ankles, the bottom of your foot, and the sides a lot more than a boxing boot would. 

For someone starting off in boxing like Ed, getting the ability that he needs on his ankles, being able to move well without the fear of injury, and the bonus of moving around and performing fast, rapid movements, when he changes it out for a boxing boot, theoretically he would’ve been able to move quicker. 

And with Ed’s playstyle, he's seen to be pretty light on his feet. 

Wearing compression pants can help people check their form and correct things that don’t look right. Like if their knees are buckling, or if the athletes are staying upright, etc. 

Performance: Compression pants are specifically designed for athletic activities. They provide a higher level of pressure to the legs, which can help improve blood flow and reduce muscle fatigue.

Recovery: These pants can aid in faster recovery by reducing inflammation and assisting the lymphatic system in draining lactic acid built up from exercise.

Support: They offer more support and stability, which can help with balance and proprioception during a workout.

Overall a good piece to add to one’s collection for working out.

Boxing-wise, there isn't really much to say about the other pieces of clothing in his Outfit 1 and Outfit 2.

If it wasn't obvious, Ed's Outfit 2 was a redesign of his SFV outfit. And this also seems to be an outfit one would use to train in the gym in, rather than in the ring.

Mostly because of the regulations of wearing a shirt and compression pants.

Ed did mention in the Official SF6 news that he did want to look like Balrog and how much Ed idolizes him, so I thought that was cute.

And that's what mostly inspired me to drop this as I'm currently stressing about my clinicals to start. haha. Don't procrastinate kids. Time to disappear again!

Also, I was supposed to do one with Bosch specifically, but I can't really get behind his VA defending a gRapist.

How to wrap hands in boxing: Everything you need to know on how to wrap hands | DAZN News US

What is the purpose of pro boxers writing on their handwraps? - Poe

What is written on the taped-up hands of mma fighters and why? - initials gauze | Ask MetaFilter

[opossumloverr]

✪ RAPHAEL HAMATO DATING HEADCANONS ✪

Summary:

Just some silly lil headcanons to start of the summa❗️🫶🏾

Warning(s):

None! all fluff up in here

A/N:

OKAY GUYS ITS SUMMER VAYCAY, IM BACK AND HAVE NOTHING TO DO FOR 75 DAYS, IM A FREE MAN, SO LET'S START IT OFF WITH MY FAVORITE BOY (Gender-neutral reader!)

I would like to start by saying this man loves you very much and would drop almost anything for you

You need help with a school project? Big red is on his way, you don't know what shoes will match the outfit you picked, oh what a coincidence! he just so happens to have a matching pair of shoes that fits you perfectly, you just want cuddles? lock and loaded baby, come at him

I think I can speak for everyone when I say we all need a Raph in our lives

He protects you from his brother's teasing, even if it's just playing or goofing, he is NOT taking any chances.

He loves to scoop you up randomly, you'll get used to it don't worry

Very cautious when picking you up though, doesn't want his spikes to hurt you, he will feel mad guilty if he was the one who caused you even a little bit of pain, even if it wasn't attentional (please comfort the man)

Appreciates the little moments he shares with you, oh my gosh I actually have the perfect scenario, just imagine...

After a long day full of fun cahoots and mysterious adventures, you two finally decided to go home, you usually go your separate ways after a day like this one, but it was rather late at night, and New York lets the creeps roam at this time, so he offered to ride the subway train with you, even though you were a bit hesitant but agreed cause there's no way your gonna allow yourself to get mugged in the middle of the night and like I said it was late at night so the subway cart that you guys were on was empty, he did wear a Hoodie and mask, just in case, the ride was silent, no noises but the constant screeching of the train tracks, but other than that it was just comfortable silence, Raph was lost in his thoughts, thinking about how the next day will be and how it will end, will it be a good or bad day? or something in the middle; what's the meaning of life? and what happens after death? Where does your soul go to, to heaven? or is it just pitch black forever, will today be his last day-- suddenly, he felt a lightweight on his shoulder, the thoughts that were coming in like a rapid wave started to smooth down to a calm stream of water, he glanced down at your sleeping figure, apparently you thought it was a perfect time to take a quick power nap, how cute! he coos softly at you, loving how you're so comfortable and calm around him. god, he loves you so much ♡,

"I promise I will always be here when you need me, you're my everything, sweetie"

Sorry guys I just felt a little kooky at the moment

If you like to play fight he's totally down, doesn't fight too hard obviously, and lets you win all the time, what a gentleman

He'll hold doors open for you, push your seat out, and then push it back in, hell, he would even do that thing where a guy puts his coat on a puddle so the lady could walk through it even though she's fully capable of walking around it

Takes so many pics of you and him at places, and has a particular folder on his phone with pictures of you guys

When it's family game night or movie night, he always invites you, you are practically a part of the family so why not? (The others don't mind)

It's so common to find you in the lair with how much you go down there on a daily basis

Yall have to do lovely dovey things in a private area cause of his brothers (mostly Leo, his bitchass) constantly changing the mood

Likes it when you watch him workout, it motivates him so much, sometimes he uses you as a weight

Loves to give you piggyback rides for some reason

He likes pickles, LISTEN LISTEN, if you don't like pickles in your burger you'll pick them out and give it to him cause you know he loves em (THE OLIVE THEORY ♡)

I GOT SOO MUCH MORE BECAUSE OF HOW MUCH I LOBE HIM BUT ILL KEEP IT INSIDE, FOR NOW, CAUSE ITS 5:08 AM RN 💀 sorry for being dead for 5 months, AGIAN, but imma be back on my grind now 🙏🏾 and I'll try to complete all of my 15 drafts 😓 and if you see any grammar mistakes, no you didn't.

[pbelfz]

Title: The Bed We Made is Cold Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Reader Includes: nsfw (mentioned), alcohol, manipulation?, argument, breakup, angst? idk 1.3k words PB’s Masterlist

Izuku watched you, resting his cheek on his palm, as you caught your breath, a dizzy smile on your face. The gin flushed his cheeks, but it fell off you hours ago; he was much more lightweight than you. His fingers strayed beneath the sheets, caressing the inner part of your thigh, catching a hint of the mess you two made. You closed your eyes, growing bored of the ceiling fan but smiling nonetheless at the tickling of his callused pads.

Second time this month. Two times a month was the regular, sometimes three if a week was particularly sluggish; it was routine, one you both agreed on.

You had half the nerve to push him for another round, and he wouldn’t deny you of that. You knew you’d miss your train if he indulged you, though.

You sat up, already feeling chilly leaving Izuku’s side. His gaze lingered on you in a way that made your gut sink, and you found the shirt you dropped carelessly on the floor hours ago.

He always looked at you like that afterwards, like he should be saying something. You don’t pay him any mind; what was there to talk about? You don’t notice how he sat up suddenly, rubbing the back of his neck and nibbling his bottom lip, or maybe you didn’t want to notice. The stitching in your leggings felt rather itchy now as you pulled them up your legs.

“You didn’t let me know when you got home the other night.”

There it was. You knew he was upset about something, but the way his hips slammed against yours just a bit harder than usual tonight had you re-prioritizing. You liked getting him angry sometimes. You blinked an eye roll away, turning your back to him as you looked for your other boot. Izuku sat naked in the bed, the blankets covering his waist down.

“Didn’t know I had to.”

This accusation obviously made the Number One Hero sputter because you heard the sheets shift and a sigh from behind you. “I,” he swallowed, fingers tapping on his bicep, “I just wanted to know you were safe.”

You shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull your boot on. Careless. He never told you, but he hated that about you. You couldn’t see, but Izuku’s face hardened.

“You could’ve gotten hurt. Or worse.”

“I didn’t,” you stomped down, pulling the mouth of the boot up; it always got stuck when you put these shoes on. You really should’ve worn your sneakers instead.

“There were multiple reports of three high-ranking different villains in your ward that night,” he asserted. God, you hated when he used that tone when he wasn’t fucking you. You didn’t even bother responding. What’d he want you to say? It was already over with. And everything turned out fine.

You didn’t offer an apology. If he cared so much, then he could’ve taken you home himself.

You grabbed your bag, which was hung on the doorknob of his bedroom, before finally turning to face him for the first time since he pulled out of you a few minutes prior. He definitely looked as serious as he sounded, perhaps even offended at your dismissal. If you were more sober or less indulgent of your sexual afterglow, you’d have the nerve to argue his sudden interest in your well-being.

Instead, you offered him another shrug, and that seemed more than generous.

You pivoted, ready to leave how you normally do on these visits – indignant and with little resonance – but his words stop you.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your hand was already on the doorknob of his bedroom. You know the way out of his penthouse; you’ve walked out by yourself countless times. Still, you paused.

Anger boiled in your gut, and you needed to blink to steady yourself.

You turned around to face him, the naked hero still sitting in his bed, looking up at you with a hankering that those little words would be enough to bring you to heel.

You neutralized yourself, but Izuku scooted closer to you, and the blankets fell off of his form as he reached up to grasp you by your arms.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeated, and it tasted worse the second time. You scoffed and looked away from him, favoring the lush carpet instead that you know he gets shampooed twice a week by his maids.

In the silence, you could tell he was waiting for an answer. Anything.

“When did that happen?” You were bitter.

He blinked with doubt, and you wanted to withdraw even further. You switched up, trying a different angle.

“What changed?” Quiet, but monotone.

He sat there, hopeful, his hands still wrapped around your wrists, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed on instinct. Despite your own constitution, you keep yourself from yanking away.

“I–,” Izuku stuttered, “You’re good for me.”

You gave a hint of a smile, rolling your eyes. It’s always about him.

“I told you I was in love with you months ago, and do you remember what you told me?” Your face dropped like a stone as you spoke, but Izuku didn’t relent. He remembered.

“’So is everyone else I’m sleeping with.’”

“’So is everyone else I’m sleeping with,’” you nodded as you repeated his own words back to him.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone else right now. I haven’t for the past three months,” he defended. You scoffed, shaking your head.

“You told me you weren’t looking for anything serious. You made me feel stupid for wanting more from you,” you argued.

“I know. But I’ve grown. I want this, (Y/n),” he pulled you closer where you had began to pull away.

“Is that what’s made you believe you’re suddenly in love with me? I’m the only one fucking you?”

Izuku’s brow furrowed, and his grip on your wrists tightened just a hair. “No, (Y/n). I–“

“You’re settling.”

“(Y/n), I’m–“

“You don’t want me.”

“(Y/n)–“

“You’ve never wanted me.”

“(Y/n), stop!”

You opened your eyes, jolted by Izuku’s sudden rise in volume. You had no idea you were crying or struggling to get out of Izuku’s grasp. You tried to settle as much as you could in front of him. Your wall had been lowered, but you were going to hoist it back up even if it suffocated you. Izuku was saying something to you, but your tears were still falling.

“I’ll be better. I’ll be better now, for you, for us,” you only caught the tail-end of it. You noticed he was comforting you, something he was naturally so good at. However, when Izuku comforted someone, he said anything he could to get the person to calm down.

“No,” came your quiet rejection.

This caught Izuku by surprise.

You turned, pulling your arms out of his grip and picked up your bag once more. You must have dropped it at some point.

“(Y/n),” Izuku called, the sheets falling off of his form as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. You turned back to look at him as he approached you. He was so beautifully sculpted, even in the moonlight.

You yanked the bedroom door open and made your way to the front door, ignoring Izuku’s calls behind you.

You opened the front door to the penthouse, glancing over your shoulder at a naked Izuku standing in his living room. His pleads for discussion fell upon deaf ears as you slammed the door behind you, finally leaving the way you intended to thirty minutes ago.

The elevator takes too long, and you didn’t know how persistent he was in his pursuit of you, so you took the stairs. You felt your phone vibrate in your bag, but you waited until you were out of the building to check it.

Deku :  Please let me know when you get home.

[antikate]

Absolutey never going to write this but thinking of how Jamie and Roy fucked it up so badly with Keeley by treating her like a possession rather than a person

and because they’re mates now a few months later they get together to talk about it over a few beers (it’s the off-season Jamie can have beer now)

They’re both a couple of pints in and Jamie is a lightweight because he’s been training so hard and Roy is a lightweight because he’s getting old (sorry Roy, but it happens to the best of us)

And Roy is all “we absolutely fucked it Jamie”

And Jamie agrees morosely “we bollocksed it up and down and sideways”

And Roy says “we should have just-“ and cuts himself off

So Jamie is all “what?” And Roy is all “nothing” and and goes on for a while until Roy roars “I told you it was nothing you giant twat”

then after a few minutes of contemplative silence Jamie finally says “you know how Dani has two girlfriends?”

Roy snorts into his beer but he has a haunted look in his eyes. “Are you seriously going to suggest to Keeley she fucks us on alternate days? Oh it’s Tuesday that’s a Jamie day! Two dickhead boyfriends for the price of one!”

Jamie fiddles with his man bag and then says “I was thinking more … at the same time.”

Roy is staring at Jamie now and it’s only that he’s three pints in otherwise he’d be reacting in some other much more sensible way than just gaping at Jamie like a fish that’s suddenly been propositioned by his best fish mate

Finally his brain catches up and it says via his stupid mouth “is this… a swords crossing situation or what?”

“What the fuck is that sposed to mean?”

“You know. Is it - you and Keeley and me and Keeley or is it you and me and Keeley?” Roy’s throat has gone very tight and there’s a strange buzzing in his ears

Jamie’s face has gone pink and his ears are even pinker. “You. And me. And Keeley.”

“You and me.” Roy echoes

“Yeah you and me. And Keeley.”

“But you and me-“

“It’s really not a big deal mate-“ Jamie says, “anyway did you hear Zava might be going to Real Madrid-“

and they drop the whole thing

Only Roy can’t stop thinking about it and thinking about it and thinking about it, and wondering about things that he’d thought about before, and a few incidents from his wild younger days (it’s not that gay to jerk your mate off in the showers, is it?), and noticing how Jamie’s thighs look in his shorts, and it definitely becomes a very big deal indeed.

So he stews on it for a while, fucking marinates in it, and then one night he’s home alone and thinking about Jamie’s fucking smile of all fucking things, and how the tosser’s face is so fucking symmetrical and pretty but pretty in a blokey way

and before he can think better of it he texts Jamie “You and me.” and then throws his phone across the sofa (because you know Roy texts like an old person)

And his phone pings almost immediately and he digs it out from under the cushions and it just says

“Yeah”

And he stares at it and types thirteen different things and then he throws his phone away and then finds it again and then just gets up and puts on his shoes and fucking jogs to Jamie Tartt’s fucking house at 11pm on a Tuesday

Jamie opens the door at his insistent knock (he’s got his trousers on at least) and they stare at each other and then they kiss

And then six months later when they approach Keeley about this possible threesome she laughs them out of her house and goes back to her very beautiful new girlfriend

“Two dickhead boyfriends instead of one - thanks but I’m good,” she says, and kisses them both of the cheek and them firmly shuts the door

[byrdstrolls]

Mysteries Are Like Onions Part One

Somewhere, deep in the western plains, dotted with sparse farms and gas stations, cottonwood and tumbleweed, a young boy steps off a train. He is dressed like a respectable six sweep old in his sunday best, though it was friday. He wears a brown overall dress with a short light red button up. A pair of dark red fingerless gloves and bows in his hair signify his blood color. On his back is one of those tall camping backpacks, nearly the size of the entire kid, yet it had to be lightweight enough, because he navigated the dusty old station with balance and ease, though perhaps a bit of slowness. Clasped in his hands is a yellow lined notepad, the kind where the papers tear off, that he has a pen leaned into at the ready. In his mouth is a tiny gold sunflower necklace he gnaws on absentmindedly, thinking. Anyone who knew him would know it rarely left that place in his mouth. 

Strangely, he is alone. 

Down the way, an older tealblood woman in a long dress and cardigan paces up and down the station's platform. Anxiety radiates off of her even from ten or so feet away, but the child, with a glance around, quickly deduces she is the only other troll at the station. He walks over, red shoes clacking on the grain of the old wood, and, as gently as he can, attempts to interrupt her nervous march. 

“‘xcuse me miss,” He says. “You have a moment?”

“Hmm?” She answers, blinking. “Oh-” She says, glancing at the teenager as if seeing him for the first time. 

“Sure” She says, her gaze softening. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have a map of this area, wouldya? I’m tryin’ to make my way to the umm. Express train station but I might’ve gone the wrong way.” 

The woman pats her pockets, finding them empty. 

“Well- not with me” She says, apologetically. “But it’s not far to my hive. Do you have somebody waitin’ on you?” She continues, hoping the answer is yes. It’s dangerous to travel alone, especially with a caste that low and especially for a troll that young. 

“No m’am” He says, and her heart sinks ever so slightly. “Lead the way.” 

And so the two of them began to walk back towards the direction of the town. 

“I’m Laryan” She offers. 

“Nice to meet ya Miss Laryan” Says the teenager, as polite as ever. 

“What’s your name?” She asks. “What’re you doin’ out here?”

“Barely” He answers, electing to only respond to one of the questions. “I’m Barely Shyeck.” 

“That's… an interesting name” She responds. 

“I’m a detective” He says, as if this somehow justifies something.

“Is that so?” She replies. 

“All detectives” he says, “Have silly names” 

“Can’t say I’ve met enough detectives to know.” 

“Sher-lock. Pie-rot. The silly name” He says. “Came free with my notepad.” 

She snorts, unable to help from laughing at this assertion, and judging by the grin around his necklace on Barely’s face, he had intended it that way. 

“This is me,” She says, pointing to a cozy little one story hive, and unlocking the door. 

“Nice place” Barely says, looking around. 

“Oh- don’t pay attention to anything, it’s so dirty” She sighs, shuffling through piles of papers on a crowded dining room table. Eventually, she pulls out a rail map, sweeping out a place on the table and unfolding it out. Barely inches closer, looking over her shoulder. 

“You and I are right here” She says, circling the town of Baskertop. “Over by the Fleetrail, (but that’s not a passenger train) and the Eastbound. You can take the Eastbound train” she says, hand going further down the map, “Up to Shercattle, and take that up to Creekturn, and the Express to the city is right there” 

He nods along, his brow furrowing, tracing the journey she’s laid out for him several times with a finger. 

“Could I have this?” he asks. “I’ll work to pay you back.” 

“How so?” She asks. 

“I’m a detective” He again asserts, clearly having a lot of pride in referring to himself as such. “Give me a mystery and I’ll solve it- and I’ll not ask for a fee if you let me stay the day and have the map.” 

She had already become endeared to the strange little young man to the point she might have offered him those things freely. But the little rust seems to take himself so seriously it was hard not to play along. 

“Alright,” She says. “I misplaced my wallet this evening- If you can find it, you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

Barely pauses for a second. “Miss Laryan,” he says. “I’d gladly do that for you, but you’re sellin’ me a lil short” he huffs. “I really can handle a mystery more mysterious than that.” 

“If I can think of another one,” She says. “I’ll let you know. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Yes miss, thank you” He says, giving one last look at his map before setting down his notepad. 

“Why were you at the train station, Miss Laryan? Were you waitin’ on someone?” 

She laughs, in the floaty, self deprecatory way some trolls do, putting a kettle on the stove. 

“Not exactly. I was tryin’ to build up the nerve to make a visit to Shercattle myself. But it doesn’t matter- misplaced my wallet. I couldn’t find my train ticket, I’m sure it was in it.” 

“Why were you goin’ there?” He asks. 

“To visit a friend of a friend- if he could be called that, and ask him a favor.” Laryan sighs, tapping her finger on the counter. 

“My moirail” She says. “Is a cowboy out on the plains. A bunch of his cattle, and the other cowpokes too, have been going missin’. All of them are at their wits ends about the whole thing.” 

“Really?” Barely says, perking up, scribbling down on his notepad. Drawn to these kinds of puzzles like a moth to a flame. It’s like trying to fish salt out of water, to separate a detective from their nosiness. 

“All of them” She frowns, exhaling. “Are out there blaming the other cowpokes, or a thief. Think someone takin’ more than their share.”

“Makes sense,” Barely nods. “But what’s that got to do with Shercattle?” 

“Well,” Laryan shrugs. “I figured if somebody was stealing the moobeasts, they’d probably have to be selling em, or the meat, somewhere, right? And the cowboys know most people in Baskertop. It’s a small town. They’d know if somebody was buyin’ em here. Shercattle, though, it’s a little further out- mostly dairy farms. They’d have just as much of a reason to buy cattle as we do.” 

“So you were gonna go there, and ask your friend of a friend if he’s seen anything?” The rustblood extrapolates, thinking, that perhaps, Miss Laryan was a whole lot smarter than she trusted herself to be. The kettle on the stove goes off, it’s screech like a final ding to the end of his sentence. 

She takes the thing off the stove, going to pour the tea.

“Yes,” She confirms. “This friend- well, you didn't hear this from me-" She qualifies, before beginning something like gossiping. "He's a, well- I don’t want to say a fling- of my moirail- Vekeso- Well, maybe he would be if they stopped pussyfootin’ about. I knew him through Vek. He’s a dairy farmer. I probably forgot my wallet someplace, because, well, I was so nervous, I think there’s been some kind of fallin’ out between the two of them these past months. I don’t know if he’s still fond of me, knowin’ how tied up I am with Vekeso. Sugar?” She asks. 

“Yes please!” Says the teenager, swinging his feet under the table. “Honey, if you have it. Are you sure you don’t want me to solve all that mystery instead?” He offers. 

“Trolls can turn nasty about these kinds of things when there’s money involved” She sighs, setting down his teacup. “I’d rather you stay out of it, for my peace of mind.” She continues, sitting down with him. “Don’t you wanna ask me questions about my wallet?” 

The young man picks up the tea, blowing on it, a tiny huffy little frown on his face, as if he still considered this beneath him. 

“Where’d you last have it?” He concedes, starting with the basics. 

“Well,” She says, pausing to sip her tea. “I usually keep it in my coat pocket. I wear this coat everywhere, you see. I’ve never lost it before.” 

“Is there anyplace you hang up your coat? Did you buy anything this evening or last morning?”

“There’s a rack at work and at my hive” She says, touching her cheek with her finger as she thinks. “I don’t think I bought anythin’- but, oh!” She squeaks suddenly, paling. 

“What is it Miss?” Barely inquires, a look of concern flashing across his face, he turns the necklace in his teeth. 

“I shan’t say.” She frowns, her shoulders sinking. 

The young rust stares for a moment, and then reaches across and takes the woman's hand, giving it a gentle pat. 

“My loyalty is to my client, Miss. That’s you. I won’t tell anybody.” 

She frowns, glancing to the side, but the boy really does seem so earnest. 

“Don’t tell a soul” She says, biting her lip. “But… I’m a clerk at Baskertop’s Municipal office. My eyes aren’t as fast as they used to be. Sometimes- I’ll get a little behind.” Laryan sighs. “On the paperwork. And- it’s not supposed to leave the archives. But, some days, I’ll take something and fold it up and stash it away- so I can work on it before opening next evening, and not fall behind.” She groans. “I can see it now. I was probably foldin’ up something frantically, puttin’ it in the wallet, rushing around to close up on time- and I probably left it right there on my desk” She says, with a guilty, sad little smile. 

He nods. “See?” He says. “Too easy.” 

“I work again later tonight, I can check when I clock in then.” She muses. “Thanks anyways, Mr. Detective.” She says fondly. “Want me to show you to the guest room?” 

“No thank you, Miss Laryan.” he says. “I might wanna go around town for a spell.” Barely says, standing up to rinse his empty mug. 

“I told you,” She frowns. “Don’t go pokin’ around that moobeast thief nonsense.” 

“I won’t” he says, with a smile. “I promise” He says, heading out the door to go start pokin’ around that moobeast thief nonsense. 

.

.

.

.

.

He starts, as any reasonable troll would, a ranches, moseying about for cowpokes down the road. It’s not long before he finds one. Barely’s eyes light up, and he walks over to a tall beanpole of a jade sitting up on a wood fence. 

“‘xcuse me sir,” Barely says. “You wouldn’t happen to know a Vekeso, wouldya?”

“Who’s askin’?” The man mutters, lifting the brim of his hat. 

“I’m Barely Shyeck” He says, offering his hand. “Detective”

“Detectin’ what?” The stranger huffs, staring down at the hand but not taking it. “Am I in trouble?” 

“Oh, no, I’m just tryin’ to find some missing moobeasts, mister…?” 

The jade stares down at the still offered hand for a moment, before finally conceding to take and shake it. He releases it, leaning back. 

“Mister Vekeso to you.” He says. 

Barely grins, glad to have found him so quickly. 

“Mister Vekeso” He says, “Could you show me the fields where the cattle are?” 

“You fine with horses, kid?” Vekeso says. “Dunno what you’ll find that the rest of us haven’t.” 

“I’ve been riding horses since I was four, mister.” Barely says, climbing over the fence to where Vekeso kept his stallion. Suddenly, the Jadeblood pauses. 

“The other cowpokes didn’t send you, did they?” He asks.

“Miss Laryan did, in a way.” He answers. 

“Of course” Vekeso sighs, plopping down on the horse, and offering a kid a hand up. But he does seem to relax upon hearing that his moirail was the source of Barely’s investigation. “She’s always meddlin’ in cowpoke business,” He mutters, but in the fond kind of way in which a troll teases someone they’re close to. 

“She means well, Mister.” He replies, leaning into him as the horse begins to trot in earnest. 

The plains were beautiful this time of night, a great rolling ribbon of greens, pinks and blues that stretched out into a star filled sky. The plants were tall and thriving in the moonlight. It’s quiet, and a little serene, but the detective's eyes are not on the view, but on the ground. 

“You graze your herd here often?” Say’s the boy. 

“What’s it to you?” says the jade, as forthcoming on information as ever. 

“It just doesn’t look very grazed, is all” He answers, gesturing at the lush vegetation. 

Vekeso is quiet for a long moment before he decides to answer this question. 

“We used to go further north.” He says. “But since the Fleetrail went in half a sweep ago, all the construction, there just isn’t enough land anymore. I’d have been outta a job if the Mayor hadn’t rented us the Redgrass Ranch he’s been sittin’ on.” 

“I see,” Barely says. “The cows sure must be happy about it.” 

Vekeso snorts. “Yeah, I bet” He says, a tiny half smile appearing on the jade’s face for a moment, before being swallowed, and disappearing into a look of barely withheld bitterness. Barely waits for him to say more, but he doesn’t. 

“Do you like the new lands?” The child prompts, finally. 

“That’s neither here nor there.” Vekeso murmurs under his breath. 

“Any information, really” Says Barely. “Might help with the case.” 

“This’s got nothin’ to do with the cattle” He says, still prickly. 

“Motives” Barely retorts. “For trolls bein’ upset, might have a lot to do with the cattle.” 

“I thought I wasn’t in trouble.” Vekeso replies. 

“You’re not.” The teenager reassures. 

“Well, I’m the only one who’s upset,” Vekeso complains. “And I didn’t steal any damn cattle about it. I’m too grown for that. The mayor was nice and all to rent us these grounds.” He huffs. “But he’s still fleet, so there’s all sorts of stupid regulations on it. How long you can stay, who you sell cattle too, who you gotta answer to. The other cowpokes don’t care, because we’re making more money than we ever have, sellin’ out to factories who want that free range sticker ta put on their packages” Vekeso says, pulling the horses reins, bringing the two of them to a halt, in a little area on the edge of the woods that overlooked the herd. 

“Me I’m not fond of anybody lookin’ over my shoulder.” He exhales, sliding off the horse, and crossing his arms. 

“And there’s the disappearances” Barely adds. 

“Yeah, and there's those.” The cowboy sighs. “Not fond’a those either. But I wouldn’t be stealin’ my own damn moobeasts.” He adds. 

Barely hops off after him, stumbling a little as he lands on the ground. “I understand, Mister Vekeso, really. I don’t think it's you. But that helps, anyway.” He attempts to reassure him, again. The child smooths out his dress, and begins to take a closer look around the property. Turning in circles once or twice with his notepad, biting into that necklace. 

“Mister Vekeso” He says, suddenly. “Do these woods go down the whole property?”

“Pretty much” He answers. “They follow along the river.” 

A contemplative expression rests on the rustbloods face, and he turns and begins walking into the trees. 

“Hello?” Vekeso says, watching with mild confusion, gesturing at the herd. “The cattle are over here, “detective”?” he says, gesturing at the field.

“Don’t airquote me, “cowboy”” Barely bites back. “What kinda animals do you usually get out here, Mister?” 

“Nothin’ bigger than a fox or deer, kid. I mean, nothin’ that’s gonna wanna eat a moobeast.” He says. “What’re you on about?” 

“How far north does the Fleetrail go?” Barely asks, bustling around the forest floor as if looking for something. 

“What?” Says Vekeso with a sigh, before finally following Barely into the woods, not wanting to lose sight of him. 

“You said the new segment was built earlier this sweep” The detective clarifies, wandering around glances under bushes. “Does it go back far?” 

“It’s a train,” Vekeso says, struggling to keep up with the child. “Of course it goes back far.” 

“They probably developed,” Barely says, climbing around some rocks. “A lot more land than just your old ranges, didn’t they?” He continues, his voice muffled by distance. 

“Probably” Vek says, frowning. 

“Well, what kinds of animals live further up north?” Barely says, continuing his strange search. “Their habitats woulda been destroyed. I reckon they’d be upset, and starving, and wandering around further out than they’d ever been havin’ nowhere to go.” 

“I see where you’re goin’ with this” Vekeso says, finally catching up. “But what’d be big enough to take a whole cow?” 

“In my travels” Barely says. “I’ve seen howlbeasts, nearly as big as elk, up north.” 

The cowboy stares, dumbfounded. “They’d be a long way from home” He answers. 

“Couldn’t hurt to look, could it?” Says the rust. 

Vekeso walks over to him. “What’re we lookin’ for?” 

“Tracks, scat, big hole or cave in the earth that might be a lay or den.” The child says. Vekeso stares for a moment, before exhaling, rolling up his sleeves and going to help the detective with his search. 

The two of them cover a lot of ground, in about an hour. With every step he takes further into the property Vekeso starts to feel a little bit more anxious about the whole thing. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the kid to be right. It’d make him feel mighty silly, if he and the other rangers had all been pointin’ fingers everywhere about a problem caused by some displaced wild animals. Just when he opens his mouth to tell the kid maybe they better give up and head back, Barely calls from across the way. 

“I found one, Mister!” He exclaims. 

“A what…?” Says Vekeso, heading over trepidatiously. 

“An old den!” The kid says, peeking out of a large hole in between to big pieces of rocks, holding a tuft of hair triumphantly. 

Vekeso walks over, and takes the coarse chunk of fur from his hands. 

“I’ll be damned.” He huffs. 

“It was wolves.” Barely asserts. 

“Well” Vekeso frowns. “I guess I’ll be removin’ yer air quotes, Detective Barely.” He says. 

The child beams. “Thank you Mister Vekeso.” He says. “Couldya take me back to town?” 

.

.

.

.

.

It was hard to ride the satisfaction of having solved the case for long. Vekeso didn’t even seem too happy about it, and all the lengthy way back to town, Barely was haunted by the feeling it had been too easy. As easy as a misplaced wallet, wrapped up in a single day. Maybe he shouldn’t wish a harder life on himself, but he longed to stretch his legs and mind further than this. He couldn’t help but think there was a shadow of an even bigger mystery enclosed around this place. He couldn’t see its form, couldn’t determine its nature just yet. Too many loose questions and pathways, ends that hadn’t quite been tied. 

Vekeso ran off, presumably to talk to the other cowpokes, to talk strategy. That’s something Barely didn’t like, either. He had given him an answer, but not a solution. The land taken by the Fleetrail wasn’t coming back anytime soon. They might just have to kill the wolves, which was it’s own headache, for both moral and logistical reasons. 

At least, Barely resolved, he could head down to the municipal office, and hopefully share with Miss Laryan the joy of finding her misplaced wallet. 

But it was not so. As Barely approached the office, a tiny frown curved around his necklace as he began to notice the place was swarming with officers. He glanced between them, attempting to determine the intricacies of their rank, before walking over to the youngest, who was putting crime scene tape over the doors. 

“‘xcuse me sir” He says, “What happened here?” 

“There was a robbery.” The man sighs. “Someone broke in last day.”

“I don’t mean to be trouble officer, but what’d they take?” 

“Government papers. A couple old county estate exchange receipts. Stop nosing around.” The officer says, more sternly. 

“I can’t help it, Sir,” Barely answers. “I’m a detective.” 

The man pauses for a moment, and then flat out laughs at him. 

“Go play somewhere else” He says. 

“Can I look inside?” Barely pleads. 

“Of course not” The officer huffs. 

“Can you describe it to me?” He asks. 

“Will that make you leave?” The man says. “It’s a fucking mess, kid. They tore the damn place apart, real desperate for that crusty old paperwork. Piss off.”

Barely’s brows furrow, and he finally takes the hint, walking away. He tries to view the scene from different angles, as best as he could from a distance. He wanders back and forth, before, with a slight frown, pulling out his notepad to write down that none of the doors or windows seem damaged. Besides, he assumes, the sorry state of the office and archives, it was difficult to tell someone had broken in at all. The robber must have been let in, or had a key. He contemplates this for a long moment. Before spotting Miss Laryan down the way, and speedwalking down the road ask fast as his little legs could carry him. 

“Miss Laryan” he says, “could I pull you aside for a moment?”

“Barely, I have work” She chides, as the child drags her off into a nearby alleyway. “What’s going on down there?” 

“I need you to stay calm, and answer some questions for me” Barely says, with as much assertiveness as he can muster. 

“Who else works at the municipal office? Who has a key?” 

“Why-” She frowns, “the security? I’m the only clerk, you see. It’s why I gotta work so hard” 

Barely’s heart sinks. 

“What was the paper,” he says. “That you snuck into your wallet last night?” 

“Oh, it was so late” She frowns, struggling to remember. “It was… messiahs- I think… maybe some old land sale?” 

“Are you sure you left your wallet on the desk?” He says. 

“I mean- not really” She backtracks. “But it wouldn’t hurt to check, right?” She says, flustered by the child's seriousness. “Why do you ask?” 

“You can’t go to work,” Barely says. 

“What? Why?” Laryan says, biting her nails. 

“There’s been a robbery” The rust frowns. “And if the fleet sheriffs got any kind of head on their shoulders, you’re a prime suspect.” 

Miss Laryan pales. “But- I didn’t! I was- I take paperwork home all the time! There just- weren’t enough hours in the night- what’re they saying? What should I say?” The woman panics, starting to hyperventilate. 

“M’am,- m’am it’s okay, just breathe-” Barely tries to assure her to little avail. 

“I can’t go to jail!” The teal squeaks, and then, suddenly, falls to the ground, as if stressed to the point of honest to g-d fainting.

Barely’s eyes widen, and he stares around helplessly. “Miss,” he pleads, on deaf ears, staring at her collapsed form, frozen. A little time passes, as he struggles to figure out what to do. 

Eventually, a shopkeeper walks by, turning and peaking into the alleyway with concern. Barely makes a half effort to step in front and block the view of the unconscious woman, but he’s too small and too slow for it to do any real good.  

“Ah,” The stranger says, not even seeming to notice this attempt “She having one of those again?” 

“‘Xcuse me?” Barely says, shyly. 

“Don’t worry about it son,” the man says, rolling up his sleeves. “You didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Laryan gets this spells every time she gets nervous. Must be havin’ a hell of a night.” He sighs. “Help me carry her back to the mart, and get a cold towel, she’ll be up in no time” he says, grabbing her by the shoulders. 

“Of course” Barely says, shaken up but glad to be of help, the rust hurries to grab Miss Laryan’s legs, following the man in front of him’s lead into a convenience store, it’s neon sign spelling out the word DUNNERMART. They brought her over to a bench, and set her down. The young man catches his breath, shaking out his arms. 

“What’s your name, kid?” The shopkeep asks. 

“I’m Barely, Mister.” He answers. 

“I’m Dunner” The man grins. “You want a milkshake?” 

Barely pauses, as if, caught up in the excitement of it all, he hadn’t realized he didn’t have much to drink or eat today. 

“I don’t have any money” He says. 

“First one’s on the hive” Dunner says, turning around to make one in the machine. 

“Thank you, Mister” Barely says, gnawing furiously on his necklace, leaning on the balls of his feet. He wasn’t used to such graciousness, especially from a highblood. The man hands him the drink. Barely pauses, wondering if it would be safe to question him. 

“What’s going on down the road?” The detective says, baiting him by feigning ignorance. 

“Someone broke into the government office,” Dunner shrugs. 

“Any idea who?” 

“Beats me- I wasn’t here all yesterday. Didn’t see anybody suspicious. I hear the cowpokes are fightin’ over somethin’ or other.” He shrugs.

The kid glanced downwards. None of this information was new to him. 

“You know anything about a land sale in town?” He asks. 

“Nope,” He answers. “What’s it to you?” 

“Nothin’” Barely says, sipping his milkshake. “Just curious.” 

“Stay safe, kid,” Dunner says. “Shouldn’t be messin’ around about things so serious at your age. Be careful” he continues. “Where you put your trust.” 

Does he imagine it, or do the shopkeeps eye’s flicker over to the unconscious Laryan for a moment?

“Of course, I’ll be careful Mister Dunner” Barely says, a guarded expression crossing him. 

The shopkeep heads to the back of the shop, presumably to go work on something or other, and he’s replaced by a bored looking cashier. Barely continues to sip his drink at a snail's pace frowning. He’s nearly an inch from finishing it before Miss Laryan’s eye’s flicker open. The rust’s gaze goes to the cashier glued to her phone, and then back to his friend. 

“Stay calm, Miss,” he whispers. And she freezes. “I think you’re innocent- those officials shouldn’ta been workin’ you to the bone in the firs’ place.” 

“What should I do?” She mutters back in hushed tones. “I can’t return the papers, I still can’t find em” She chokes. 

“I think you and I should go up to Shercattle, and visit your friend of a friend.” Barely says. 

“Barely,” She pleads. “I told you to not go pokin’ around about the cattle.” 

“Not about that” He retorts. “I just think it might be smart for you to skip town a couple a nights” He says. 

The woman pales. “Okay” She squeaks. 

“Someone else,” He says. “Was lookin’ real hard for those papers, and I don’t think they found em. You don’t tear apart an office like that if the papers are right on the desk peakin outta a wallet.” The rust continues, thinking out loud. 

“You think so?” Miss Laryan whispers. 

“Yes, Miss, I do.” Barely whispers, determined. “I wanna know who wanted em that bad and why.” He asserts, offering a hand to the woman. 

“So how about on that long train ride, you tell me-” He says, pulling the woman to her feet, picking up his notepad. “In as much detail as you can- every single thing that happened from when you closed last morning til you met me at the station this evening” He says, his sunflower necklace making slow circles in his mouth as he and Miss Laryan walked outside, as the detective concedes that just maybe, just maybe, 

This wallet thing might be a mystery of the scale he was interested in after all. 

[cecilysass]

Shine On (3/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 3: Might Be My Fault

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 20, 2015

The knock on the door makes Mulder jump and sit up abruptly on the couch.

His first thought is that maybe Scully forgot something, but even as he’s scanning the room for anything of hers, he’s realizing: he hadn’t heard her car come back up the drive. 

He hasn’t heard any car come up the drive.

For thirty seconds he’s in bitter disbelief that danger could possibly be at his door right now. When he’s sitting here with his heart in pieces, his whole world in shambles. 

Then again, if there’s one thing Fox Mulder knows all too well, it’s that life will always kick you when you’re down.

He stands up slowly, moving silently to his desk drawer where he keeps a weapon just in case. He sticks the gun in his waistband, safety on. He’s careful not to make too much noise.

No need to overreact. It could be nothing. There are a few neighbors around—although they’re a bit of a hike away—and it could be someone coming to his house on foot for perfectly innocent reasons. Still, his experience, his training, and his instincts tell him to be prepared. 

Some very dark, small voice inside his mind tells him something else: All your training assumes you don’t want someone to strike you down. That you have something to live for. But that’s not an accurate assumption in this case, is it? Why do you bother? She’s never coming back.

He shakes his head. He can’t think like that. Besides, there’s comfort in just slipping into g-man mode, something he knows how to do without thinking. 

The curtains in his front window are drawn, so he can just peer out from the side. There is someone standing there, but Mulder can only see the back slope of their head and back. A man, he thinks. He’s standing too close to the door for Mulder’s vantage point. If this guy would just take one little step back, Mulder could see him perfectly.

Almost as if he could hear Mulder’s request, the figure takes a step back, stepping precisely into Mulder’s frame of sight. 

It’s not a man. It’s a boy. A  young teenager, facing the front door expectantly.

Mulder lets out a deep breath. All right. This is more likely a neighbor request then. Probably a kid selling magazine subscriptions for the junior high track team or something. 

“Hi,” Mulder says, opening the door with a tepid, friendly smile. “What can I do for you?”

The boy stares back at him, and Mulder’s investigator instincts snap back into place. This doesn’t look like a kid selling magazines. This looks like a kid who is very, very anxious.

“I–” The kid stops, bites his lip, looks at his feet. “Somebody, uh, told me to come talk to you.”

“To me?” Mulder scratches his head. He tries to wrack his brain about why a local kid could be sent to talk to him. He knows some of his neighbors probably think he needs help with keeping up the yard. “Oh. Uh, is it about those downed trees on the edge of the property? I know sometimes people pay kids to cut wood up and haul it away or whatever. Were you … interested?”

“No, no,” the boy says. He’s got brown hair, straight, and he runs his fingers through it nervously. “It’s not like that. I came here … for your help.”

“For my help,” repeats Mulder. His eyes scan the yard, the road beyond, looking for signs of a car that could have dropped the kid off. 

“Yeah,” the boy says. He clears his throat. His eyes land, just for a moment, at the handle of the gun visible at Mulder’s waistband. “I need help. Somebody told me you could help me. Fox Mulder, right?”

Mulder nods. “Yeah, I’m Fox Mulder,” he says. He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I used to be an F.B.I. agent, but I’m not anymore. I’m not really someone who can��help people.”

The boy is undeterred. “I think you can help me.”

Mulder looks him over. He has a lightweight jacket on, but his shoes look dirty. He’s shifting his weight from foot to foot. There’s something sad about the kid, like he’s carrying an invisible burden. 

Mulder has the oddest sensation, just for a moment, that he can actually feel the kid’s sadness. That he’s experiencing the same heavy sensation blooming in his chest as the kid is.

The feeling fades away quickly. Probably just one depressed guy feeling empathy for another.

Why the fuck don’t you try to help him? What else do you have to do?

“Okay,” Mulder says with a sigh. “Sure. I have a lot of questions. But come inside. I’ll see what I can do.”

The boy follows Mulder obediently. His eyes, sharp and observant, fly all over the room, taking in every detail. He stares at the piles of books on the floor, the same perturbed expression on his face that Scully had.

“I’m reorganizing my books,” Mulder explains halfheartedly. “Why don’t you come sit at the table with me? More room over here. What’s your name?”

“Jackson,” the kid says, sliding into one of Mulder’s kitchen table seats. 

“Are you hurt, Jackson?”

“No,” he says. 

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Some muscle twitches in the kid’s face, and Mulder can see that yes, he definitely is hungry and thirsty. He wonders how far the kid has walked today. So many questions, but experience has taught him to take care of basic needs first. 

“I’m okay,” the kid says with a modest lift of his shoulder.

“I was thinking about ordering a pizza,” Mulder says. “If I get one, will you eat it? It would be a favor. I can get more if you share it with me.”

“All right,” Jackson says, watching him closely. “I like Italian sausage.”

“Hey, that’s my favorite,” Mulder says pleasantly. “What a coincidence. Let me order, and then we’ll talk.” 

Mulder picks up his phone to call. There’s only one place that delivers out here in the boondocks, and he has their number saved. As he gives them the order, he watches Jackson rise from his seat and wander around the room, examining Mulder’s belongings, picking up books and pictures on the shelves. Mulder realizes with bemusement that for a few minutes the mystery teen has managed to entirely sidetrack him from his own troubles.

An intriguing case could always do that, he thinks.

“Who are they?” Jackson asks, when Mulder is off the phone. Jackson is holding up a framed black and white photo from the sixties, a relic from the intact days of his parents’ marriage that Mulder has only recently had framed.

“They’re my parents,” Mulder says. “A long time ago, when they were young.”

“Are they still alive?”

“No,” Mulder says. “No, they’re gone.”

Jackson nods seriously, looking at the photo. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. It’s been some time now.”

Jackson tilts his head thoughtfully. “Can I ask you… do you sometimes feel bad that they died? Like it was your fault?”

Mulder frowns, startled. “How would you—why would you say that?” 

“Sorry,” Jackson says, his face flushing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to … My parents are dead, too.”

“Oh,” Mulder says, his tone changing. “I’m sorry.”

“They were murdered,” Jackson adds in a monotone. “They were shot. Just a few weeks ago.”

Mulder lets out a breath. “Oh, wow,” he says. “That’s recent. That’s a lot, Jackson.”

Jackson puts the photo down and walks back over to his seat at the table. He makes unsettling direct eye contact with Mulder, and when he does, Mulder can see that his eyes are wet. 

“Is the reason you came here to see me …. something to do with that?” Mulder asks. “Something to do with your parents?”

Jackson nods, but can’t seem to say anything else, his lip quivering. Some tears stream down his face. Mulder recognizes signs of trauma all over the kid and knows not to push, even though he definitely wants to know more. 

“You want something to drink?” Mulder says gently. “I have spiced apple cider. That good kind from Trader Joe’s. You want some of that?”

“Okay,” Jackson says, sniffing. Mulder stands to get the cider. “I don’t know what Trader Joe’s is.”

“Oh, it’s just a grocery store,” Mulder says, opening the fridge. “There’s not one near here, but I go to the one in Alexandria sometimes and stock up. Maybe you’ve seen one before if you’ve gone into DC.”

“I’ve never been to DC,” Jackson says. “I’m from Wyoming.”

Mulder turns around from the counter to look at Jackson, surprised. “You’re from Wyoming?”

“Yeah,” he says. “This is the first time I’ve ever been this far east. Really the first I’ve been anywhere except Wyoming, Colorado, Idaho — and my uncle Wyatt’s in Minnesota.” 

“How did you get here? To Virginia?”

“Someone drove me. To see you.”

Mulder’s puzzled. “Someone drove you? Who drove you?”

Jackson looks down at his hands on the table. “I can’t tell you that.” He swallows, looking ashamed. “Is that okay? I just … can’t tell you.”

Mulder shakes his head in bewilderment. “Yeah, well, of course it’s okay,” he says. “Tell me whatever you want. I’m just trying to figure out what you need from me, Jackson.”

The microwave, which has been humming, now dings, and Mulder lifts two mugs of cider to the table, placing them in front of Jackson and himself. He notices that Jackson never stops staring at him, taking in every detail. His eyes are intensely green, bright, constantly shifting at everything around him.

“All right,” Mulder says. “What do you need me to know?”

Jackson sips his cider, sitting up very straight and stiff. He bizarrely reminds Mulder of Scully sitting on the couch before, sipping her tea and refusing to let her guard down. 

The kid sets down his cup. “They think I killed my parents,” Jackson says. He stares meaningfully at Mulder. “They think I woke up and shot them, then went to school like nothing happened. They’re trying to arrest me.”

Mulder stares back at him, blinking. “But you didn’t shoot them.”

“No.”

“So you’re on the run? From the police?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says. “I left my school. I snuck out. I’ve been running since.”

“And somehow, you ran all the way from Wyoming to Virginia,” Mulder says. “To see … me.”

Jackson scowls slightly. “I can tell you don’t believe me all the way. That you’re suspicious,” he says. “But that’s the truth, I swear.”

“I’m not exactly suspicious,” Mulder says, although he is, just a little. “I’m just trying to figure out how I might be of help. I mean, I’m not a lawyer, or even a private investigator, Jackson.” He cradles his cup of cider, appraising the boy. “Back when I was an F.B.I. agent, my partner and I, we dealt with cases that had to do with unusual circumstances. The supernatural. Is there anything about what happened to your parents that might be … unusual?”

“They were shot,” Jackson says, monotone again. “It wasn’t supernatural.”

“Why do the police think that you killed them?”

“I don’t know,” Jackson says. His stoic face crumples. “I don’t know the answer to that. I wish I did. They seemed really sure.”

Mulder studies him. He’s experiencing a strong feeling of certainty that the boy didn’t kill his parents. It’s a feeling probably derived from his rusty profiling skills, but right now it feels more like a pure feeling. 

“Hey,” he says impulsively, reaching for the kid’s arm. “Whatever happened  …  it’s not your fault, Jackson.”

The boy draws away. “No,” he says, his voice tight. “That’s the thing. I think it might be my fault.” 

Mulder sits back in his chair again, then slowly crosses his arms. “I don’t follow.”

“I didn’t kill them,” Jackson says. “I loved them.” He swallows. “But I think they were killed because of me. I can’t think of any other reason why. That’s why I’m here.” He licks his lips anxiously.

Mulder waits a moment expectantly, but Jackson doesn’t continue. “Why do you think they were killed because of you?” he prompts.

Jackson’s staring at the table, not looking up. “I think it has something to do with my birth parents,” he says, so quietly Mulder can barely hear.

Mulder’s mug had been halfway to the table, but he now freezes in place. Gradually, he becomes aware of the sound of the clock on the kitchen wall ticking and finds himself moving again.

“You’re adopted?” Mulder asks in a careful, precise voice. He sets his mug down.

“Yeah,” Jackson says. 

“How… how old are you?

“I’m almost fourteen.”

Mulder has to stop again. Almost fourteen. Born in spring 2001. The boy is watching him closely, a curious expression on his face. 

“Do you…know who your birth parents are?”

“I know who my birth mother is,” Jackson says. “Not her name. I don’t know her name. But I know who she is.”

Mulder finds he can’t speak. He sits there staring at the boy, trying not to observe a hundred new things about him. The texture of his hair. The color of his eyes. The shape of his face. His tendency to lick his lips when he is nervous.

“How do you know who she is?” Mulder manages finally.

“You said you’d worked supernatural cases, right?” Jackson asks. “Well. I’ve seen her… in my mind. In these flashes. That’s something I can do. I’ve seen her calling for me. Crying for me. A few times in my life. I sort of figured out that was who it was.”

Mulder runs his hands down his face, trying to absorb this.  “Okay,” he says. “Okay. I have questions about all of that, but okay.” He steels himself. “You said you knew who she was. Who—who is she?”

Jackson looks up directly at him, with a pointed expression, like he thinks he should have figured this out already. “The woman who was here before. Who you fought with. The woman who drove off. With the red hair.”

Mulder closes his eyes. He keeps them closed for a moment, searching desperately for some idea for what to say or do next. 

He opens them and nods slowly at the boy.

“All right,” he says in a rough voice, running his hands together. “All right then.”

He folds his hands on the table.

“Then first off,” he says, “you should know you have been to DC before.”

***

[intheticklecloset]

3 AM (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Primary Universe

Summary: After a late night out, Chuuya helps Dazai back to his place to sleep. Unfortunately, Dazai has other ideas.

A/N: The initial idea for this fic was inspired by this AMV (there are SO many good BSD AMVs, btw!). I of course put a tickly spin on it because that's what I do. Enjoy!

Word Count: 973

~~~

Nothing good ever happened after 3 A.M.

Chuuya grunted as he and Dazai stumbled through his front door, no thanks to the detective, who was so drunk he could barely stand upright. “Lightweight,” he muttered, tossing his keys into the bowl by the door and kicking it shut behind them. He fumbled for the light switch.

“Oww, Chuuya,” Dazai whined, nearly toppling over as he tried to shield his eyes from the soft yellow glow.

“Stop being a baby. I’m putting you to bed.”

“Ooh, I must have been a good boy this year~”

“Shut up! Not like that, you idiot. Come on.” Chuuya angled them so they were headed toward his bedroom.

“Chuuya’s dragging me to bed,” Dazai sang drunkenly, giggling a little as he stumbled across the carpet, over the threshold, and toward the surprisingly simple twin bed that Chuuya rarely had time to actually enjoy thanks to his work.

The redhead wrestled Dazai around so he was sitting on the mattress, swaying a little. “You forgot to take your shoes off, moron.” He leaned down to do it for him, but the next thing he knew arms were wrapped around him and he was being yanked off his feet, lying staring up at the ceiling with Dazai’s body beneath him. “Asshole! Let me go; you’re so drunk I don’t know how you aren’t dead already.”

“Chuuya’s grumpy,” Dazai hummed, snuggling his face into the redhead’s neck and hugging him closer, digging his fingertips into his partner’s ribs. “Grumpy, grumpy Chuuya~”

The redhead froze, eyes flying wide open. The touch was gentle, but it didn’t matter; Chuuya was ticklish enough that even that much was enough to do the job. He squeaked, biting his lip hard to keep from giggling like a little girl, thrashing in his drunken boyfriend’s grip. “I-Idiot! Don’t touch me! Let me go!”

Dazai giggled for the both of them, switching from digging to random poking, like he was drumming his fingers on a tabletop out of boredom. Chuuya hated that it tickled so bad.

“Dazai!” he cried, trying and failing to get away. He managed to fall off of the detective’s body onto the mattress, but as soon as he had a momentary glimpse of freedom Dazai was on him, rolling over so he was pinning him awkwardly to the bed, fingers poking and pinching along his ribs. Chuuya snorted. “Shihihit! Dazahahahai! Quit it!”

“Grumpy, grumpy Chuuya needs to learn to smile more,” Dazai slurred.

“Asshohohohole! I’ll kihihihill you! Let me go!”

“No can do, Chuuuuya~”

Chuuya would deny the scream that left his lips until the day he died once his infuriating partner found the spot at the top of his ribs that drove him up the wall, forcing loud, desperate cackles out of him whether he liked it or not. “AHAHAHA!! DAZAHAHAHAI!!”

Dazai giggled again, fingers flying across his ribs, up and down like he was playing a xylophone. “Tickle, tickle, little chibi~”

“Dazai!” Chuuya wheezed, fisting the comforter on his bed into one hand while frantically trying to punch any part of his boyfriend that he could with the other. “Stahahahahap it! I dohohohohon’t like being tihihihihickled!”

For a brief moment, everything stopped. Chuuya gasped for breath while he could, trying to shove Dazai away, hoping his strength would be greater since he wasn’t the one who was drunk enough to pass out at any moment.

“You don’t?” Dazai asked, sounding genuinely surprised, standing up of his own free will and toppling sideways onto the bed so he was looking the redhead in the eye – kind of.

Chuuya flushed at the question. “No.”

The detective observed him for a moment, eyes bleary yet trained hard on his partner. He hummed after a while, flopping onto his back with a sigh. “Then why do you look so disappointed that I stopped?”

“Idiot,” Chuuya grumbled, jumping onto his waist and digging into his hips, smirking at the too-loud squeal of delight Dazai let free. “You’re the one who’s disappointed I wasn’t tickling you back until just now.”

“Ehehehehehehe!” Dazai laughed with such childlike glee that it made Chuuya blush for the both of them, though he kept tickling anyway, fingers flying from his hips to his belly to his neck and even into his underarms, which made the detective shriek so loudly the redhead had to stop lest they wake up the neighbors.

“Okay, dumbass. Take your shoes off and go to sleep, all right? It’s almost four in the morning—”

Dazai grabbed his waist and rolled them over so he was on top again so fast Chuuya got whiplash, but he didn’t have time to worry about that since his ribs were being played like a piano again, this time without the benefit of being able to hide his face or muffle his sounds at all, staring up into Dazai’s eager grin as he was.

“Ahahahahaha! Whahahahahat did I just tehehehehell you, you bahahahastard?! I dohohohon’t lihihihihike it! Lemme gohohohohoho!”

“That’s what you said,” Dazai agreed, flopping down so his entire body weight was pinning Chuuya in place, his chin nestled into his boyfriend’s neck so his ear was as close to Chuuya’s laughing mouth as possible, fingers still digging with an expertise that was absolutely unfair for a drunk person. “But I think you were lying.”

Chuuya raged and fought as much as he could, but it soon became apparent that he wasn’t going anywhere until Dazai was either satisfied or passed out from his alcohol intake, and so – laughing up a storm and letting out embarrassing squeals and snorts – the redhead let himself go limp and accept his ticklish fate, color staining his cheeks as he submitted to the playful torture.

It wasn’t like Dazai would remember any of this in the morning, anyway.

He never remembered anything after 3 A.M.

[octuscle]

CHAVTF - Dan and Dick

Richard was excited to see his son Daniel's new apartment. Daniel had moved out of his home in Mayfair a few weeks ago. For his work, the Eastend was better located. And Mayfair was indeed nothing for young people by now. Richard himself was considering moving away. He was now retired, and his wife had been dead for over a year. Perhaps a change of scenery would not be wrong.

The inspection of the new apartment did not take long. Small, functional. And still full of moving boxes. So Daniel suggested going to dinner at one of the nearby restaurants. Richard agreed. He was starting to get hungry. They had been walking for a few minutes when, completely unexpectedly, a heavy downpour came down. Although they quickly took cover under a tree, they were soaked to the bone. And then a huge amount of bird droppings slapped down on them. Their clothes were ruined.

Richard laughed. "It's all no drama. There's another store up ahead, we can get a dry and clean jacket there." Daniel hesitantly countered that this wasn't Savile Row, but Richard said they'd find something appropriate for dinner in the East End. They entered CHAVTF. A small store, crowded and not very clear. At the cash register at the entrance sat a young man with a shaved head, playing with his cell phone. When he saw Richard and Daniel, he began to grin. And a large wet spot formed in his crotch from the precum. "Oi mates, you looking for something dry? There are two changing rooms up ahead, strip down and I'll bring you something." Richard and Daniel found the approach a bit odd, but followed the request. The locker rooms smelled musty, the floor wasn't particularly clean, and strangest of all was the large hole in the partitions at belt height.

"You lads prefer boxers with those big dicks of yours, don't you?" " You bet your ass I do," Daniel replied. "Here you go. Aren't really Calvin Klein, but good quality." Richard pulled on the shorts. He massaged his cock. Felt really massive. "And here are socks. Size 12 should fit." The two put on the white athletic socks. They immediately got dirty on the greasy floor. "Tell me mates! Are you guys brothers? You look a bit alike." "Fuck, yeah," Daniel replied. "Here are some jeans. See if you like them. And who's the older of you?" Richard pulled up his pants. He'd never worn ripped jeans before. But they felt great. And they sat so low on his hips that you could still read the Calvin Klein lettering super. That's how he'd imagined it. "The older one is me, mate," Richard said. "But only three months. We're half-brothers. Dad screwed anything that couldn't run away fast enough." Dan replied that Richard's mother, however, had also been a whore who had let everyone have it. "You got it, bro! Your mom's not a whore, of course. And where did all your brothers and sisters come from?" replied Dick.

"Here's two cool pairs of shoes. Let's take a look, mates," the store attendant said, pulling the curtains aside. Dan and Dick grinned and posted for fun. "Wow, your training is paying off, Mates! You both box welterweight?" "Nah," Dick said. "I'm a lightweight. But I'm working on it. The goal is middleweight already." "You guys are probably going out clubbing today. T-shirts for clubbing?" Dan said they were going to get drinks at the gas station first. And then maybe to the pub. But T-shirt is fine." The store attendant tossed them two black T-shirts. Dan and Dick put them on and took out their chains. They were quiet for everyone to see. "Why aren't you both inked, anyway? Your tattoos are really coming along!" Dick stroked his neck and arm. Yes, he was really proud of them, but they had cost a lot of money. And Dan just had to save up a little bit of money, then he would surely get a tattoo.

Fortunately, they had collected a lot of money today. The two fine toffs Dan and Dick had stolen the coats from had been carrying a lot of cash. "Mates, the jackets really go with your outfit. Can't nobody tell they're not Moncler." The two put the jackets on. The pal was right. They looked awesome! "Mates, did you want to earn a £100 discount on the clothes. If one of you blows the other in the booth through the glory hole and I can use the video on Tiktok, everything together will only cost 50 pounds. Dick tossed a swiped credit card to the store attendant. "We'll pay by card, but we'll do it for 100 pounds cash."

Once the two were back outside, Dick had to light a fag. Dan still had the taste of Dick's cum in his mouth and declined, grinning. "Not until after the next beer. Your spunk tastes like shit." "And yours tastes like piss!"

[kazisin]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏 - 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: valandil x fem!reader

| 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 → |

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The schedule of Sea Guard training had always been the same, set sail from port, sail around and navigate the sea as the Sail Master barked orders, then drop down the anchor and spend time on one of Númenor’s many shores while learning the ways of a sea men and natural survival. That was how it was supposed to go, if not for a foreginer washed up on the beach.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: n/a

𝐰𝐜: 1.1k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first time writing and posting, lmk if there’s anything i should change or isn’t correct

The Sea Guard trained Valandil for many things, rigging and tacking, how to hoist a sale, bailing out a boat, and Valandil’s personal favorite, sword fighting. Training was hard, to be expected, of course. His legs felt like jelly by the end of the day, dragging the heavy wooden ships upon the sand. The sand that didn’t bother to help him hold fast at all when tugging up the lumber. But it was a rewarding life, something he had longed for as a child. And there were few better rewards than collapsing into a bed of fresh linens, limbs exhausted when he could already feel his muscles setting knowing they’d be sore tomorrow.

And to spend his days toiling in the sun till his hands burned from the chafe of the rope and his throat stung from the sea salt that invaded his lungs wasn’t everyone’s idea of fun. Certainly not his friend, Isildur who always seemed to have his mind elsewhere. But it was his and he enjoyed it, enjoyed his skin turning bronzen by the sun, the way his muscles were taught and the familiar feel of the blue smock dashed with sea spray. 

It was an early Tuesday morning, the Sail Master running his mouth about the left tack and starboard side. It was a gorgeous morning, the haze after a heavy storm from last night, the aqueducts were full and close to brimming. He had spent the previous evening with Ontamo indoors with a roaring fire crackling and being muffled by the sound of thunder and the heavy downpour. He could recall Isildur staggering in like a soaked cat. The man’s dark hair pasted wetly to his cheeks, Ontamo could barely hold back his amusement at their friend. 

Days after storms were the best, waves rolling back to peace and conflicting currents that were smoothing out into a glassy surface and the sky was clear today, no longer filled with clouds heavy with rain. Isildur was wrapping a rope around a handle, holding it fast. He seemed to be in it today. Ontamo was getting yelled at by the Sail Master about taking too long getting across deck leaving Valandil the time to gaze across the expanse of cerulean and stare at the majesty of the Numenor castle and the aqueducts held up by the statues of men whose names he could never bother to remember, he was a man of the Sea Guard, not like Kemen who seemed to obsessively memorize every political and historical fact of Númenor to appease his father.

He disliked Kemen, disliked his goody-two-shoe-attitude and the way he believed he was better than everyone. He probably couldn’t handle a day at the oars without complaining about calluses. Valandil pulled away from his thoughts at the familiar loud voice of the sail master shouting commands. Something about the sail, it didn’t matter the directions as Valandil’s hands were already pulling at the ropes, months of training, reading, practicing, pouring into muscle memory. 

The helmsman today was doing a shoddy job of steering, not putting enough force on the til to turn far enough to face the front of the ship to shore. No doubt they’d get an earful about it later. It hardly mattered as the Sail Master urged everyone off the boat, dropping the smaller lightweight wooden crafts into the water to get to shore. 

Valandil made a point to always be first, some called him a show-off but he chalked that up to jealousy and incompetence as he vaulted over the side, his calves stinging at the jolt that ran up them. He grabbed the side opposite to Ontamo, Isildur lagging behind before the small boat was hoisted and became considerably lighter once their third joined. 

Valandil knew Ontamo hated running after time on the ship, he said it made his legs hurt and the saltwater always got in his mouth. Isildur decided to make a point to tell him to shut his mouth while running. The seafloor beneath them was soft and squishy, clouds of sand billowing up to taint the usually clear steel blue the color of sandstone. The other boys carrying their own jolly boats were heaving in gasps of air, panting.

The incline of the shore reminded him just how sore his thighs were, a burn searing into the tendons as they got up, the boat dragging against the sand. Isildur was sagged over like a sapling who’s trunk was broken by a vicious wind. Valandil had no time for such sloth and snapped to attention for the Sail Master, Ontamo following at a considerably slower rate and Isildur last, barely getting his arms behind his back as the Sail Master strode through the sand, heavy footfalls quiet against the shifting shore. He gave them a once over before dismissing them.

“At ease!” 

There’s the subtle sound of people putting their arms down the familiar noise of fabric against fabric. The Sail Masters' weather hardened face looks over them.

“That was sloppy, laps down the beach and back, then collect firewood.” He snaps and the response is a barely repressed sigh before the boys are off, some more sluggish than others. It doesn’t take long for Valandil to catch up. The familiar burn in his thighs are back no doubt the others could feel their own muscles straining. The thump of footfalls against sand keeps him at a steady pace, a pack of younger boys are ahead of him, still chipper about sea life and yet to be tired of it like the older boys.

Ontamo and Isildur keep pace with each other, not bothering to move as fast as Valandil who Isildur says is a “try hard.” Valandil slows his footsteps at the pack of younger boys. They’re lean and not yet muscled and the group of them have paused, silently crowding around a patch of sand. Valandil breathes out of nose to keep his air intake level, moving to the pack of boys and pushing through them. It stops him in his tracks at the sight of a figure curled in the sand, their hair is mused, soaked and strands of it lie against the shore, pinpricks of sand are over their hair and their cheeks are colorless. They’re wearing clothes that aren’t Númenorian, devoid of any white, gold, or blue of the island kingdom. It’s dark and drab, short and ripped to reveal their legs, a gash in their skin and sand freckling their flesh.

He barely gets a moment to take them in before Ontamo and Isildur are shoving next to him, it’s silent, a few worried faces, younger kids looking to him, Valandil, just because he’s usually so in control.

“Someone get the Sail Master.” Ontamo manages to say, looking up to the stricken faces of the boys.

[explore24]

Top 5 Shoe Brands You Shouldn’t Miss in 2024: A Perfect Blend of Style, Comfort, and Durability

Finding the right pair of shoes is essential—not only for comfort but also for enhancing your personal style and confidence. In today’s fast-paced world, people are constantly on the lookout for shoes that offer a seamless combination of durability, trend, and comfort. The right shoes can elevate your entire outfit, make long hours of standing or walking easier, and even boost your performance in athletic activities.

In this comprehensive blog, I will introduce five top shoe brands in 2024 that are dominating the Indian market, and I’ve included exclusive affiliate links for each brand so you can shop directly with confidence. Let’s take a closer look at what makes these brands stand out, and why they should be your next footwear choice.

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1. Sparx Shoes – The Ultimate Choice for Casual and Athletic Wear

Sparx is a leading brand that offers affordable, durable, and stylish footwear. Whether you're going for a run, hitting the gym, or just hanging out with friends, Sparx shoes are designed to meet all your footwear needs. The brand is renowned for its variety of options, from sports shoes to casual sneakers and slippers.

Key Features of Sparx Shoes:

Durability: Sparx shoes are built to last. Their high-quality soles and sturdy stitching ensure that your shoes can handle wear and tear, whether you're hiking or using them for everyday activities.

Comfort: Sparx uses shock-absorbing soles and breathable materials, which reduce foot fatigue even after long hours of use.

Design Variety: The brand offers numerous design options, making it easy to find a pair that suits your style—whether you're after something sporty or casual.

Affordable: One of the most attractive features of Sparx shoes is their affordability, without compromising on quality.

If you're looking for versatile shoes that won't break the bank, check out the latest Sparx collection here.

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2. Bacca Bucci – Where Fashion Meets Functionality

For those who want to combine style and comfort, Bacca Bucci Shoes are an excellent choice. This brand offers footwear that is not only functional but also fashion-forward, appealing to both men and women. With their trendy designs and durable construction, Bacca Bucci shoes are perfect for those who want to stay ahead of the fashion curve without compromising on comfort.

Key Features of Bacca Bucci Shoes:

High-Quality Materials: Bacca Bucci uses premium leather and synthetic materials to craft shoes that are not only stylish but also long-lasting.

Streetwear-Inspired Designs: Their urban and streetwear-inspired designs make these shoes perfect for young professionals and fashion enthusiasts alike.

Versatility: Whether you're looking for casual sneakers, formal shoes, or boots, Bacca Bucci offers a variety of options suitable for any occasion.

Affordability: Despite the premium look and feel, Bacca Bucci shoes are budget-friendly, making high-end fashion accessible to all.

Explore the full Bacca Bucci collection to find a pair that matches your unique style.

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3. Puma Shoes – Unleash Your Athletic Potential

When it comes to sportswear, Puma is a name that needs no introduction. Known for their innovative designs and cutting-edge technology, Puma shoes are engineered to maximize performance without sacrificing comfort. Whether you're running, training, or playing a sport, Puma has something to enhance your athletic experience.

Key Features of Puma Shoes:

Advanced Technology: Puma shoes are designed with the latest innovations in athletic footwear, including breathable uppers, lightweight midsoles, and responsive cushioning for superior comfort.

Sports-Oriented Designs: Puma shoes are built with athletes in mind. From running shoes to football boots, they offer specialized footwear that optimizes performance in every sport.

Ergonomics: Puma is known for crafting shoes that perfectly fit the contours of your feet, reducing the risk of injury and enhancing your natural movement.

Style and Comfort: Beyond just sports, Puma sneakers have become a fashion statement, perfect for athleisure and casual wear.

Upgrade your athletic gear by checking out the latest Puma shoe collection.

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4. Campus Shoes – Affordable Footwear for Daily Wear

Campus Shoes are synonymous with affordability and comfort. Designed for those who want a reliable pair of shoes for daily activities, Campus offers a wide range of stylish sneakers, casual shoes, and sports shoes. The brand focuses on blending comfort with style, making them a go-to for people from all walks of life.

Key Features of Campus Shoes:

Lightweight Design: Campus shoes are incredibly lightweight, making them ideal for daily wear and long hours of use.

Durability: Even though they're budget-friendly, Campus shoes don’t compromise on quality. Their materials and construction are designed to withstand daily wear and tear.

Innovative Comfort: The cushioned insole and flexible outsole ensure that Campus shoes provide the ultimate comfort, making them suitable for long periods of walking or standing.

Wide Range of Styles: Campus offers everything from simple sneakers to more stylish options for various activities, so you’ll always find a pair that fits your needs.

Explore the latest Campus Shoes and experience unmatched comfort at an affordable price.

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5. Adidas – Iconic Designs and Unmatched Performance

Adidas is a brand that is known for revolutionizing sports footwear. From its iconic three stripes to cutting-edge technology, Adidas Shoes continue to be a favorite among athletes and casual wearers alike. Whether you're looking for running shoes, casual sneakers, or something for specific sports, Adidas offers a wide range of options that deliver style and performance.

Key Features of Adidas Shoes:

High-Tech Performance: Adidas shoes come with advanced features like Boost and Bounce cushioning, providing superior comfort and energy return for enhanced athletic performance.

Stylish Designs: While Adidas shoes are built for performance, they are also a global style icon, with their sleek designs making them a popular choice for streetwear and casual looks.

Durability: Adidas shoes are made from premium materials that ensure long-lasting wear, even in harsh conditions.

Sustainability: Many Adidas shoes are now made from recycled materials, making them a great choice for eco-conscious consumers.

If you're looking for the perfect combination of style and performance, check out the latest Adidas collection.

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Conclusion: Step into Style and Comfort with These Top Shoe Brands

Whether you're looking for a pair of shoes to elevate your casual look, power through your workouts, or simply offer everyday comfort, these top five brands have something for everyone. Each brand offers its unique blend of style, durability, and comfort, ensuring that you find the perfect fit for your lifestyle.

Latest Sparx

By shopping through the exclusive affiliate links provided, you not only get access to top-quality footwear but also support this blog in bringing more valuable, engaging content to you.

So what are you waiting for? Grab your perfect pair of shoes today and step into 2024 with confidence and style!