#like. his answer for 'what is your worst quality?'

[commsroom]

eiffel's problem is that he sees every injustice as an interpersonal issue. he doesn't understand how his flippancy or apparent leniency towards hilbert might look to hera; in his mind, it doesn't contradict his support for her. to eiffel, it seems obvious - he is also one of hilbert's victims, hera is his friend, of course he's completely on her side - but he fails to fully grasp how the stakes are different for her.

ep 19: "you need to stop treating this like a joke, officer eiffel." / "hey, i'm the person for whom the joke tolls." / "i get you're scared he put something inside you. but i hope you haven't forgotten emergency code alpha victor. he put that in me." and ep 51: "they're just jokes! they don't really mean anything." / "see, eiffel, you get to have that. they can be 'just jokes' for you because you're... well, you. but we don't get that."

the issue in shut up and listen is eiffel's repeated, if unintentional, microaggressions, but it's also his general use of dark humor as a coping mechanism - jokes he feels justified in making because of how the subjects of those jokes have impacted him. eiffel sincerely believes in treating people equally, but his idea of 'equal treatment' can be idealistic and naive. he has an awareness of interpersonal harm, but he's lived most of his life without ever being confronted with the reality of structural harm - being pre-judged and othered and having his life devalued on the basis of outside categorization.

but the thing about that is that it has happened to him, too. eiffel is an addict, and a convict, and marked as from a lower socioeconomic class than minkowski or lovelace, and those things are the reasons goddard futuristics was able to buy him as prison labor and - without his consent - consider him expendable for medical experimentation. none of that is a coincidence, but he doesn't see the systems at work, only his own actions and regrets. which he then equivocates to the worst actions of people who don't share his sense of morality or guilt.

eiffel's ability to recognize and bring out the humanity in the people around him is one of his best qualities, but... on the basis of his identity, he's been able to live a life where he conceptualizes himself as the default person, and that's been reinforced by the pop culture he loves so much. that's a massive blind spot. he assumes everyone navigates the world in a similar way, and so, on some level, he sees everyone around him as an extension of or a reflection of himself. if evil is always personal, then it can always be reasoned with.

[14dayswithyou]

Is teo a yandere??

✦゜ANSWERED: Nah, just a fuckboy with big tiddies and a bad haircut :)

[mingisaddctn]

mind over matter | s.mg

Pairing: best friend!mingi x reader Genre: [+18] smut w/o plot Warnings: jussss smut, enjoy a/n: first fic on this blog yay

the two things you can be sure in life is that 1. you will die and 2. you've never wanted to suck a dick so bad.

I mean, you always knew that your best friend was hot — you had eyes, for god's sake! — but holy shit.

it started when you ran out of cat food. you were an attentive cat owner, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, you had the worst week for your mental state. exams after exams, studying 'till the library basically had to kick you out and group projects with lazy people... so that's how it ended up with your cat screaming at the top of their lungs and waking you up from your power nap.

mingi happened to be around because, guess what, you also forgot about your plans to watch that new anime that he rambled all about for the past month, and truly, you wanted to be able to enjoy some quality time with him, but you fell asleep as quick as his cursor pressed play on the screen, the warmth that irradiated from both inside his hoodie that you were wearing to where your head laid on his shoulder was too cozy.

so when you got up to feed the cat, your heart dropped, and you saw the grocery list accumulating dust on top of the counter, the 'cat food' underlined three times. you looked outside the windows of your small apartment and saw that the simple drizzle from before now turned into a full on storm, and all you could do was lean onto the counter and bawl your eyes out.

mingi was startled but tried to comfort you somehow, not really sure of what he could do to help, and as you tried to tell him between hiccups and tears, he quickly grabbed his jacket and told you that he would be right back.

twenty minutes later, a full-on drenched mingi stood on the doorstep, chest heaving as he took off his shoes and the same jacket, now in a darker tone from the wetness. you stared back from your couch, as you were curled into the throw blankets, eyes widened.

you almost forgot about the cat food.

in your defense, it should be illegal the way his white tee clung to his abs so sinfully highlighting each of his muscles. and when he rose his arms to take off his cap and ran his fingers between wet strands of hair that framed his cheekbones, your eyes fixated on the way his sweats clung onto dear life to his v-line.

holy fuck. jesus christ. oh my god. whatever divinity that was out there.

"you okay?" he asked, as if he was expecting your answer and you shook your head, trying to escape the trance you found yourself in.

"what? why?"

"i asked if i could use your shower" he placed the single bag with the cat food on the counter as he tried not to wet your floor.

you can use me, for sure; you thought to yourself.

"yeah, yeah, go ahead" you nodded and he took his shirt off on the way to the bathroom.

you quickly jumped from the couch to feed the cat — since that was the prime reason for all the ruckus. as you put the blocks of minced meat on the food bowl, you caught yourself fantasizing about it again.

how good he should be looking, as droplets of rain still lingered on his skin as he took of the sweatpants slowly, leaving only the boxers that perfectly held his firm thighs and secured his—

meow, you looked down, to find that a block of meat fell beside the bowl and you took a deep breath. control yourself.

you blamed the ovulation. or maybe the fact that you haven't been sexually active in a while. or that movie that had hot scenes with your favorite actor... gosh you were a horny mess.

but your life has basically been all about your studies lately, and the stress was clouding your reasoning, making you feel like impulsive decisions were now worth a lot, and that's how you found yourself standing outside your bathroom door, idly looking at it with your hand raised, on the way to give it a knock.

the thing is, the moment you found the courage to do it, the door opened from the inside, and only mingi's torso popped out, in the middle of calling your name, but now confused that you were on the other side.

all that led to the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed, with him only wearing a towel around his hips, not staring at each other as the silence overcame the storm from outside.

"so... you want to suck my dick...?" he simply repeated your words from minutes ago.

it would be comical if it wasn't so tragic.

"yes."

"are you feeling okay?" he asked.

"yes."

"'then... how should we do it?"

you took another sharp breath, your lungs almost failing you as your mind tried to disassociate from your body. leaving the bed to kneel in front of him, you kept your eyes focused on his face, his lips parted as his eyes were half-lidded. from all the years you'd known him, you knew that he was probably overthinking it and trying to figure out what was happening. but neither you could tell.

your fingers slid to the towel and as you were going to take it off, his hand flew to yours, holding it softly. he pulled you towards him in a swift movement and placed his palm on your cheek, nose now brushing against yours. soon after, you felt the plumpness of his lips onto yours.

"wait" he leaned back cautiously, as though any minor movement would startle you like a scared kitten. his eyes overthinking each and every detail. "I want to kiss you first."

and as if you were waiting for that to snap, you grabbed his neck and pulled his face lower so you could slide your tongue into his mouth. his big hands fell to your hips and grabbed firmly, decided not to let you run away.

you kinda wondered before how good of a kisser mingi was, your friends joked around saying that it must be good since he has fat lips, but you usually kept those thoughts at bay, not really wanting to dive into your hidden desires. it wasn't like you, to explore and try new things. you became friends a long time ago, and when he earned that title, you felt like it would be too messy to see him as anything else.

but you weren't dumb, of course you'd noticed how a blush crept to his cheeks whenever you grabbed one of his hoodies, or how he would stutter when others teased him about you. he wasn't good at hiding things, and you weren't good at ignoring them.

one of his hands snuck to your neck and the pulled you closer, his breathing growing heavier to the point that you could hear a faint groan from his throat.

shit, you moaned.

he let go of your face and you leaned back, a little ashamed of the noise that escaped you, but mingi didn't seem to mind, in fact, his cheeks could be mistaken to a tomato. he shifted in his place and you noticed the tent in his pants. oh.

placing a final kiss on his cheek, you maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself to your knees, hands falling to his covered member, feeling the warmth through the towel and earning a sharp gasp from him. licking your lips, you only broke the intense stare to undo the lousy knot, uncovering his lower body.

oh. OH.

how did he hide that monstrous thing all along?

"uh... pants, I guess..." he said almost in a whisper, and then you realized that you were thinking out loud.

"shit, I mean, it's not a bad thing" you placed your hand at the base of his cock, wrapping your palm around it and the boy hissed. "I just... didn't expect that."

"so you thought about it before?" touché. you deflected by giving him a slow tug.

before he could say anything else, you lowered your head and wrapped your lips around him.

"fffuck-" he let out, throwing his head back.

you started bobbing your head at a slower pace, quickening each time he groaned, and listened to his raspy moans as if they were songs hidden in heaven. his hand ran through your hair, pulling at the strands just light enough to make you whine, the vibrations helping into the pleasure.

"please—" he pled, eyes fixated on you and wet hair sticking to his face. he couldn't look any better, you noted.

mingi stared right into your soul with deep, dark eyes. his nose was flaring up and trying to keep up with the sharp breaths that left his parted mouth. it was as if he belonged in that position, and you wished that you had midas touch to keep him like that forever.

"so pretty" you said more to yourself than to him, and one of your fingers snuck into his mouth, and he wrapped those plump lips around it to suck.

feeling his tongue under your skin made shivers run down your spine, and even though you tried to take in more, he pulled you towards him once more, now landing you onto his lap. mind you, his naked lap. your pajama shorts did nothing to the mixture of pre-cum and saliva that rubbed under fabric. you hoped he couldn't feel the wetness that was forming between your legs.

kissing you again, you wondered how your teeth were not clashing at all from the desperation that exuded from both parts. you wanted him as much as he ever had wanted you, and it didn't seem like a real experience. the euphoria that overtook you made you feel almost dizzy from all the exchange in pheromones and fluids, holy fuck, you wanted to stay like that forever.

while he kissed you, mingi's hand went to the bottom of your shorts, holding you so you wouldn't fall as he took them off, leaving you in his hoodie and panties. you didn't remember what kind of underwear you wore, but you hoped to whatever god that was out there that it was something without a hole or anything.

without taking the panties off, he slid them to the side and ran both his middle and ring fingers along your folds, the new feeling making you jump a little, and he giggled. the motherfucker giggled.

"jeez... can't wait to be inside you" he said against your lips, hissing as you gave him an experimental roll of your hips.

holding your panties to the side, he grabbed his cock and aligned himself to your folds, placing the tip inside and a loud whimper fell from your mouth. you knew that it would take more effort to get him inside, he was the biggest you've ever been with, and mingi also seemed to notice that, so he touched you as if you were made of glass.

the warmth of his hot member now sheathing inside your pussy felt like too much, and the room felt foggy, just as your breaths. he kissed the side of your neck, licking up to your ear and groaning ever so slightly, as if he had noticed how much you reacted to those sounds, using them now against you.

the moment you reached the bottom, you felt as if your internal organs would combust. his dick felt like too much and too good, you drank from the sensations and the tingles that your body left each time he moved an inch, clenching around him. you reached your hands to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, but his hand left your lower back to stop yours.

"leave it on" he looked up at your face with puppy eyes. "I want to fuck you in my clothes."

OH. FUCK.

you moaned into his mouth and slowly started to move your hips. you could've cum just from his words, but you tried your best to concentrate in making him feel good.

"you feel so good around me" he whined, a short moan leaving his lips to meet yours again.

you didn't know how you looked at that moment, probably a mess. from taking in all the sensations, his huge cock and the way he looked like a whiny mess under you... you felt powerful, and he was letting you use him to your wishes.

"please, please" he whined even more, probably taking notes that you got off from that.

"what is it, big boy?" as soon as the words fell from your mouth, you questioned yourself. is this really me?

"let me fuck you right" his hips shot up, taking you by surprise with a gasp and he bit your collarbone. "I wanna be good for you- wanna make you feel good."

"use me however you want" you said in a desperate tone. not even minding how it looked to him, you truly wanted everything from him.

with one arm sneaking around your back and the other on your neck, he moved you further into the bed, now on top of you. he didn't say anything else, only left a small kiss on the corner of your mouth and gave you a slow thrust.

the most high pitched moan fell from your lips, and you didn't care to be embarrassed. not when he was pleading for you, having your body wrapped so deliciously around him, the same as his.

you could write paragraphs and paragraphs about the way he looked; the occasional lightnings shining against his wet skin, highlighting each of his curves and muscles while his hair fell above his forehead, now a mess from the way you rushed your fingers between strands.

mingi kept rolling his hips against yours, and words kept falling randomly from your mouth, meddling with moans and sobs, you felt so cockdrunk that even the slightest stimulation coming from him could make you shed tears. felt so fucking good that got you questioning every life choice you've ever made to this point, as if everything was a part of god's plan for you to end up right under your best friend, as his touches made love to your limbs.

"hm-ugh- feels so fucking- oh my god" you kept going on and on, not even sure yourself what you were saying, but mingi wasn't falling behind.

the knot had already taken place on your lower body, each of his thrusts feeling more intense than the other. you could tell he was getting closer from the way his teeth were nipping on your neck and his thrust were growing sloppier.

"please-ah!-please, let me cum inside you" he left your neck to look at you, and you felt the knot tightening and your legs starting to tremble. "let me fill you nice and full- please"

"yes, I want all of you" you almost screamed when he took that as confirmation to grab your back and glue his chest to yours, sharpening his thrusts.

it finally snapped and you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore. he held you so close as if he could melt into your skin and become one, and with a final thrust, he whined and groaned and screamed and did everything so involuntarily, almost animalistic, and your mind was too dazed to even comprehend anything else besides the way that your pussy gripped him so tight, keeping his hot seed inside you. you didn't want to let it go.

you were still spasming from your orgasm when he let go of your body and snapped your legs apart, taking place in between them, nuzzling his nose onto your pubic bone and feasting. his tongue lapped each of yours and his juices without mind, sucking, kissing, moaning, grunting, only to prolong the way your climax came down; you screamed so hard that your lungs burned.

falling limp on the bed covers, he let go, going back on top of you with the support of his arms and knees, face leveled to yours when he placed an innocent kiss on the tip of your nose and another one to your forehead.

"did it help you de-stress?" he joked and you placed one of your arms onto your eyes.

scoffing, you shook your head. "holy shit, I'm in love with you."

he gave you a slight push and rolled to his side, still staring at you with a darker flush across his chest and neck.

"well, I'm yours" he said and you licked your lips, sneaking a glance from under your arm.

"yeah, you better be."

[kitorin]

in which, itoshi rin expresses his love for you in, peculiar ways.

itoshi rin is wearily watching his opponent's highlights when you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie.

he almost rips his earbud out by the wire, contrariwise to the soft gaze he gives you, the slight tilt of his head accompanied by a quiet hum asks you what's wrong.

"were you busy? i can ask later."

"'course not." without hesitation he turns his phone off and tosses it somewhere onto his bed. "something wrong?"

you lean against the coffee table, where the two of you were studying; match analysis for rin and unfortunately an infuriating research task for your upcoming exam. your chin rests on both your palms, fingers cupping your own cheek.

"what's your favourite thing about me?"

owlishly, he stares, then blinks. you mimic his actions, waiting for a response.

"i have to pick?"

you nod eagerly. "it feels like a while since i've properly spoken to you. we don't have any classes together and i've been studying during break times. and i keep falling asleep on the bus."

rin nods with understanding. "then my favourite thing about you is that."

"is what?"

"i love watching you sleep."

it takes a lot not to make a stupefied face.

of all answers you expected, it was clearly not that. rin's love languages centred around quality time and physical touch, but he's still fully capable of uttering sweet nothings. which was something you were desperately craving at the moment.

"rin that's so creepy—"

his typical stoicism melts away into bewilderment. "it is?"

oh my god, did your boyfriend have some sort of strange fetish?

"i don't get it." rin frowns. "it's been making me happy recently, why's it so bad?"

"but why's that?"

lithe fingers brush a few strands of hair behind your ears. "you're always so tired recently, it makes me feel at peace seeing you rest. i'm relieved knowing that you're getting a proper break." his aquamarine irises avoid eye contact, pink dusting his cheeks. "i like having you close to me, too."

guilt permeates your gut for having such assumptions. "sorry for assuming the worst, love." your hand cups his, bringing it to your lips for a kiss. "i'm just busy, with exams and stuff, y'know?"

"i know, and i get that. but i don't like the possibility of you collapsing from not sleeping enough, or burning out. and you deserve to sleep and eat properly, they're important for learning and improvement too."

and rin's right, it just feels as though there's not enough time, with so many exams being stuffed into such a little period. there's the fear of failing, falling behind peers and all the efforts you've put in amounting to nothing because of a mistake.

but as he said, rest is important, just as much as working hard. success cannot be attain with one without the other.

you settle yourself onto rin's lap, resting your head on his shoulder, and back against his chest, placing a small kiss on his cheek. "thanks for reminding me, i'm done for today. let's make the most of tonight."

he responds with a small smile, and wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"i must be really pretty then, if watching me sleep is that enjoyable." you throw out an attempt of teasing him, waiting for his reaction.

"nah. your face kinda squishes up on my shoulder."

"wow. okay. i see—"

"your neck also ends up in the weirdest positions so i usually have to move you around to make sure you don't have too much neck pain later."

"very sweet of you, that's enough though."

"did i mention you drool sometimes too?"

"rin—"

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[literaila]

cuddle time

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru's mood is disrupted by some quality family time

a/n: a little fluff for you all because i've been trolling too much

last part | next part

*

year four.

you're working on a report from a mission last week when the two of them appear, simply out of thin air. 

it's early sunday morning, light shining through the windows, the world beckoning you outside--even though you know you need to be in here, working. honestly, you shouldn't have put it off for this long. 

but it's so easy in this house. with satoru lounging around, and both of the children to entertain you all of the time. honestly, if you never checked your phone again, you might forget that the rest of your world existed completely. 

it's nice. easy. 

but not this morning. this morning, just walking into the office felt like surging through a tub full of mud, disgusting and slow. 

and you feel that way now when the kids show up. 

they both peek their heads into the office, the door slightly cracked, and you don't dare look at the two of them--knowing that they'll distract you (and that you would very much like to be distracted, at the moment). 

tsumiki creeps into the room, and you can feel her smile at you from ten feet away. her general aura of benevolence and good. she radiates happiness, your secret drug. megumi follows, not as bright but still pleasant enough, accidentally bumping into the desk, but you still don't look at either of them. 

you can see them in your peripheral, though. you can't imagine what they need at the moment. 

but neither of them says a thing, they simply stare at you, standing on opposite sides of the desk, their eyes darting from the computer screen to you with an obvious frequency. 

you don't know what they want, but you've known the two of them long enough to know that it's something. 

you still don't look at them, but you can't help the smile on your face. 

“yes, children?" you ask, teasing, after a minute of this has ensued. when you just can't hold it in anymore. "am i bothering you?”  

tsumiki leans her head on your shoulder, her face amazingly warm, frowning. “gojo won’t get out of bed.” 

megumi is just standing there, still staring at you, with his arms crossed. clearly, this is a dire statement, and they all need your immediate attention. clearly, your presence is impertinent.

you check the clock. it’s only ten in the morning, and god knows with the children, that is not late. they both wake up with the sun, ready to start the day before you get the chance to blink.

you were up two hours ago, helping megumi get breakfast together, making sure that they both slept well and that no one broke into the house in the middle of the night and stole them. breakfast was a bleary-eyed, silent sort of thing. the three of you basking in each other's company, and not attention.

but you don't really mind waking up that early. because, unlike satoru, your fragile mind doesn't pause for a good night's rest. these days, you'll get a few hours at a time, at the best. a couple of minutes to yourself, at the worst. 

caffeine is a wonderful thing.

so you don't blame the man for hiding in his room all morning. besides, he is the worst when he misses out on his precious beauty sleep.

“we all agreed,” you say, knowingly, resuming your typing. “satoru can sleep in as long as he’d like on sundays.” 

“he’s not sleeping.” 

megumi nods. “yeah, he’s just moaning in bed.” 

you quirk a brow. “is he sick?” 

“no, just a baby,” megumi answers. he says this with such an obvious attitude that you almost snort. where he got the sass, you're not sure. 

(you're sure. it's your fault.) 

knowing he has no good information for you, you turn around to tsumiki. “what’d he say?” 

“that he wasn’t getting out of bed. ever.” 

you roll your eyes, familiar with this act. “just give him a couple of hours. he’s probably pms-ing.”

they both give you confused looks. you make a mental note to pick up parenting books at the library.

“he’s fine, guys," you say, instead of explaining. "just dramatic.” 

tsumiki shakes her head. “something’s wrong with him.” 

“could’ve told you that,” megumi mutters, under his breath, and you attempt not to laugh. and fail. 

you grin at him, nudging tsumiki's cheek, a bit fond of her concern. her sincerity. “just let him sleep.” 

tsumiki leans on your arm, still pouting—you should’ve kicked satoru out three years ago. he’s rubbing off on her. “but he's sad." 

"sad?" 

"i think he's crying." 

megumi snorts. 

you blink at her. "are you serious?" 

she nods, sullenly. 

you sigh, looking back to the computer--where work and every terrible thing in the world (besides satoru) awaits you. you could sit here for the next four hours, doing stuff you should've done weeks ago, or you could deal with an emotional toddler. 

there's really no winning here. 

you sigh again and look back to tsumiki. her face is enough to break your composure completely. "fine," you say, "let's go see what's wrong with him." 

tsumiki smiles at you, grateful, and megumi rolls his eyes but begins to trail out of the office. you shut your laptop, knowing that you won't be back for a while. 

(or the rest of the day, if you have it your way). 

the two of them follow you to satoru's room, where you don't knock--because the door is already partially open, and because you don't care. 

the blinds are still shut, the entire room a stomping ground for candy wrappers and files that satoru definitely shouldn't leave lying around. 

but this is nothing new, so you ignore it. 

"hey, kid," you say, stepping over to the bed, leaning down to look at him. 

or, rather, an expanse of grey sheets. all you can see is a lump of covers, and a pillow thrown on the floor. satoru sleeps like someone's trying to hold him down, failing all the while.

you nudge him with a hand, sighing again. you got lucky with tsumiki and megumi, who are notoriously easy to wake up in the morning, unlike someone else in the house...

there's no response. 

fortunately, you can see a puff of breath from beneath his blanket, so at least he's not dead. 

there's a tuff of white hair peeking out from the sheets, and you pull it, albeit gently. because you actually do really love his hair. 

(it's irritatingly soft). 

"i already know you're awake," you tell him, dryly. "are you crying? tsumiki said you were crying." 

the covers are quick to move, two large hands pulling them down with surprising efficiency, and a red-eyed--though not teary--satoru glares at you. "i'm not crying." 

"oh, great, then i don't have to comfort you. i don't think i have it in me today." 

he pouts, naturally, and throws the covers back over his face. at least this is no different. 

you turn around, looking at both of the children helplessly. see, you want to say to them, he's fine. but tsumiki waves you forward and megumi's got a little quirk in his lip, which is answer enough.

you nudge satoru again. 

"c'mon, you're scaring the kids." 

"they weren't scared when they poked me awake and tried to steal my socks." 

you turn back with raised eyebrows. tsumiki looks away guilty, and megumi's smile widens. but your eyes gleam, because satoru deserves at least that. and because all of them are terribly amusing. 

you roll your eyes when you turn around and there's a single blue eye looking into yours. "well, you're scaring them now. and obviously," you answer. "socks are criminal in bed." 

satoru tries to pinch you from under the covers, and you smack his hand away. "leave me to die," he says. 

"they're quivering, satoru," you say, trying not to laugh. "do you want them to cry? because they will. it's probably the bedhead. or maybe the morning breath. seriously, do you make out with your pillows when you sleep?" 

the covers move once again, and satoru's glare is vicious. "i do not have bedhead. or morning breath." 

"yeah, yeah, you're perfect." you pull the covers back down, even when he tries to initiate a brutal tug-of-war match, which you win, obviously. "grandpa, come on, it's almost ten-thirty." 

"i thought we made a rule that none of you can wake me up in the morning." 

"the rule was that we let you sleep in on sundays. and you're already awake. the kids want breakfast." 

"i know they already ate," satoru's eyes are blinding, "tsumiki told me." 

"well, i want to eat. get up." 

"go cook." 

"get up." 

"can't you see that i need to rest?" he gestures to his face, which looks typical and annoyed. "don't i look sick?" 

you pinch his arm. "i recall someone saying that they were impenetrable, and trivial illnesses wouldn't affect them." 

"i was wrong." 

"as usual," you give him a sweet smile. 

tsumiki and megumi have both crept up on the two of you, watching as you poke his cheek, trying to get a rise out of him. 

it's really not your fault that he looks cute with his hair smushed against his face, slightly sweaty. 

you always have preferred a disheveled satoru. when he's forgotten to put all of the pieces together. 

actually, grumpy, just-awake satoru might be your favorite. your teenage self certainly had a fondness for him. 

though you choose to believe that your tastes in men have since improved (they haven't, nor have they changed). 

"i just wanna sleep," he whines. "please?" 

"no. get up, because i don't want to hear your moaning while i'm trying to work." 

"you can't hear it from the office," satoru hisses, "and it's sunday. go take a nap." 

"i'll be sure to do that, right after i shove a toothbrush in your mouth." 

"go away," he moans, childishly, and turns on his side. "i feel like someone cut me in half. am i bleeding through the sheets? i don't think my organs are intact." 

you make a face. "that's disgusting. please don't talk about your organs in public. i thought this was a safe space." 

satoru huffs, but doesn't say anything back. 

"aww," you coo, while tsumiki climbs up the other side of the bed, putting her face right next to his. megumi lingers at your side. "is our baby sick?" 

"yes." 

"what does a sick baby need, guys? i don't remember." 

"a lobotomy," megumi whispers. 

you turn to him, eyes wide. "who taught you--actually. i already know," you look pointedly back to satoru, who's frowning. 

"i shared those thoughts with you in confidence," satoru hisses to megumi, and covers his face with a pillow this time. 

"cuddles, right? that's what you do when we're sick." 

you smile at tsumiki. "what a wonderful idea, miki. cuddles are exactly what baby needs." 

and so, with the grace of a thousand kangaroos, you jump on satoru, your body molding to his as you come face to face with the man, legs over his side, arm wrapping around his neck. 

satoru is very close, close enough that you almost can't tell that he's glaring at you. 

he's pretty like this, with gleaming skin and dull eyes. 

"was that supposed to hurt? because it didn't." 

it doesn't escape your notice that you can finger his cheekbones while he says this, no space between the two of you, and neither does the slight twitch of his lips. oh, yeah, you know satoru like this. with his attitudes and his lies. 

and you know, really, that this is exactly what he wants. attention, as per usual.  

"oh, good." you tug at his hair a bit with your other hand. "we've still got room. come on, children, we have to help our baby." 

tsumiki giggles, and she joins you, her face on your back as she lays on top of the two of you, barely a leaf in the pile. you can feel her smile against your muscles and you sigh out. "i think it's working." 

you tilt your head to look at megumi, who's staring at the three of you with a look of distaste on his face. "c'mon, megs. we need you." 

he gives you a 'really?' look, to which you respond with a nose scrunch, but eventually, he sighs. and then he promptly sits on satoru's feet, setting a hand on your legs so you know that he's there. 

"how are you feeling now, baby?" 

"smushed." 

"good. exactly how we like you." you nuzzle into his neck, breathing him in. he actually smells quite nice--and not that you'll admit it, but he doesn't have morning breath, the bastard. 

"are you sad?" tsumiki asks, softly, still concerned, but brighter now. she likes this almost as much as satoru. 

"yes," he huffs, again. 

but you all know he's lying, and when you dig your finger into his side, tickling him, the kids are quick to follow. 

work will have to wait. this is much more important. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor

Azriel x reader

Summary: you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother.

Author’s Note: this is part 1 baby!! Likely 5-6 parts, that is currently what I have planned for this. This part is shorter to set things up for later okay love you 😘

(Part 2)

“Mor I don’t know about living with your long term hook up.”

She rolls her eyes, her blonde hair blowing in the wind over facetime. “He’s great - he’s super sweet, super funny, and he’s really hot. Besides, you’ve already signed the lease. It’s too late to back out now.”

You sit in the u-haul you rented, filled to the brim with your belongings, waiting for the leasing office to open so you can grab your keys. You had just pulled up, deciding to call Mor while you wait the ten minutes for them to arrive.

“I don’t know, Mor. What if this was a mistake?”

You chew your lip while thinking about all the ways this could go poorly. She smiles, her face taking up the screen of your phone. “Sweetie, it’s going to be fine. I’ve known him for a long time. He’s friends with my cousin. Worst case scenario you move out at the end of the year into a new apartment.”

She was right, of course. At worst it would be a year. You’ve met Cassian a few times, Mor bringing him to a couple parties and casual get togethers. You were always awed by his warm presence and ease around anybody, qualities that are great when you’re moving in with someone you hardly know.

You nod your head agreeing, but spot someone walking towards the leasing office. “Hey I gotta go Mor - leasing office person is here. I’ll call you tonight?”

She shakes her head, “I can’t tonight - stupid dinner with stupid family. I’ll have pizzas sent to your place, how’s that?”

You smile, her absence one out of familial obligation. She hated her parents, but they also funded her degree so you couldn’t be upset at the one-off events she had to attend to appease them. You also know she tried to get out of the event tonight, but ultimately you’re glad that there’s a now zero chance your new roommate and your best friend will have sex while you’re moving in.

You pick up the keys, sign last minute paperwork, and hop into the elevator to ride up to the fourth floor. You keep reciting the apartment number to yourself, having double checked with the office and with Mor. You find it, situated at the end of the hall with one other apartment next to it.

You run through how this could go in your head - you could unlock the door and have Cassian be pissed off because he wasn’t sure when you’d be arriving. You could wait for him to come out and act like you were just walking up at the same time. Or you could knock on the door, which you find yourself doing.

The door swings in a moment after your knock and you find Cassian looking at you, a confused expression on his face. Despite the early hour, Cassian doesn’t look like he just woke up. In fact, his hair is tied up in a half bun, he’s dressed in a shirt with the sleeves ripped off (allowing his tattooed biceps to be on full display) and some sweatpants, and you can smell bacon and eggs wafting through the door.

“Why’d you knock - did they forget to give you a key?”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, this whole situation leaving you uncertain of what to do at each turn. You look up at him as he stands in the doorframe waiting for your answer. Cassian’s a big guy, easily clearing a foot and several hundred pounds of muscles on you.

“Uh- no they did, I just didn’t want to disturb you.”

He looks at you and you’re certain he can feel the nerves radiating off of you. He chuckles and tells you, “not much disturbs me.”

He opens the door more, allowing you to come in. You hadn’t toured the place before signing a lease, your desperation leading you here without many other options. Living in a college town had it’s benefits, however finding a new place to live in July was not one of them. Not a single complex had a room for you. It was either stay with Cassian or crash on Feyre’s couch in her studio apartment.

The place is decently nice - to your left you see the living room with two couches that face quite possibly one of the largest televisions you’ve ever seen. You peer to your right, the kitchen a little bare but clean. You spy the pan and plate that Cassian had clearly just used to eat his breakfast.

“I can give you a tour,” he tells you, “it’s not much but it’s home.”

You take note of the in-unit washer dryer in a closet off the kitchen facing the front door. “Just don’t leave things in the washing machine,” Cassian told you, “pet peeve of mine is wet laundry sitting. Smells awful.”

He shows you where to find all three remotes for the tv and what each remote does, information your brain likely will never remember. He pulls up to one door, opening it slightly. “This is my room,” he says softly due to you being right behind him. He walks to another door, opening it to show a small bathroom. “This is the extra bathroom - this is usually where guests go.”

You two reach the final door, and as he’s opening it he tells you, “and this will be your room.”

You step in and look around the bare room, feeling so small in such a vast and empty space. The room’s not large by any means, but it’s yours. It’s your first step into independence and that feels vast. There’s no furniture, just a router on the floor that makes you chuckle. The blinds are drawn, the soft light peaking through illuminating the cream colored walls.

It feels like freedom. It feels like this place could be a home.

Cassian, the saint of a man that he is, offers to help bring up your boxes. The two of you make quick work of bringing up all of your worldly possessions, frequent occupants of the building’s sole elevator.

He even helps you bring up the bed frame and mattress you had to buy, just barely fitting into the elevator with both.

The two of you passed the time idly, occasional words spoken between you. Sometimes he’d laugh about the organization of your boxes - one box reading both “tampons” and “fall semester textbooks”.

Eventually everything is up in your room, the space cluttered with your boxes and various things. Cassian offered to help you with the bed frame, and when you asked him if he was doing anything else today, he told you, “I cleared my schedule. Wanted to help my new roommate settle.” He winked at you and you smiled back. You suddenly recall Mor describing Cassian as a “generous lover” once and you can totally see it. The man’s love language was clearly acts of service if today was anything to go by.

The two of you set up the bed frame, bickering over the instructions. No one, not even sweet, gentle giant Cassian is immune to the frustrations of lackluster instructions.

As you’re picking up the mattress and placing it in the frame, Cassian starts speaking. “I should probably mention that my brothers live next door. They’ll probably be over now and again.”

That piques your interest. Setting down the mattress with a huff you ask, “why don’t you live with them?”

Cassian shrugs, looking away from you, “I was initially offered a scholarship at another school, but I got injured, lost my scholarship, so came to my back up school. By then my brothers already had their own place, but they were able to set me up in the same building. That was three years ago and moving is a bitch so we’ve just kept this arrangement. Sometimes whenever Az and Rhys are butting heads I let one of them stay here in my room and I take theirs, but otherwise it’s worked out pretty well.”

You look at him, and you know there’s a bit more to the story by how sad his eyes look at the memory. He offered a piece of himself, so you offer a piece of yourself in return.

“My parents kicked me out,” you tell him, scratching the back of your neck. “They uh don’t really approve of me or my plans, so I got the boot.”

You rub your arms, making yourself as small as they make you feel. “They um weren’t very good parents and I finally stood up for myself and they didn’t like that. They have since disowned me and don’t really want anything to do with me.”

You bounced up and down on your toes during your admission and Cassian’s eyes soften as he looks at you, practically a stranger. You two had met a handful of times, his fling with Mor lasting a few months. He walks out of the room, and you’re worried you’ve offered too much, until you hear the fridge door open and close and he returns with two beer bottles. He opens both with his teeth, causing you to inhale sharply, thinking about a chipped tooth. He hands one to you, holding his out to toast. He speaks after your two glasses make a soft clink.

“Mor knew I had a spare room. The leasing office only charges me for my room, so it’s no big deal. Haven’t done much with it, except use the shower when my drain was clogged.”

He takes a sip and looks around your new room before continuing. “She begged me to let you come here. Told me you were one of the kindest, hardest working people she knew.”

You smile, looking up at your new roommate, “she said that?”

“She also said you had a great ass and an incredible rack.”

You throw your head back laughing. “That sounds like Mor.”

The two of you drink in silence, the weariness of the past few weeks creeping into your bones. Maybe Cassian won’t be so bad to live with after all.

Several hours later you and Cassian were setting up one of your bookshelves when someone walked through the door, a delicious smell permeating the apartment.

“Cass, I’m here with pizzas. When’s the “great rack” supposed to get here?”

You and Cassian are on the floor of your room and before he can respond, you yell back, “the great rack got here about five hours ago.”

You hear muttered cursing when a beautiful male walks in, his short cropped black hair pushed back. Rhysand - Mor’s cousin. You recognized his almost violet eyes and sharp features from her family photos littering her desk, as well as her determination to convince your friend Feyre to go on a date with him. He was taller in person, but not as tall as Cassian.

“My apologies, you know how Mor can get with her physical descriptions of people.”

You laugh, screwing in a shelf. “All is forgiven. There are much worse things to be known as or called. Mor has quite the mouth on her - you should hear her talk about Cassian.” You say, pointing your head in his direction.

His head raises from the instruction booklet he’s reading to ask, “what does she say about me?”

“I believe the words “tree trunk” have been used to describe certain body parts on multiple occasions.”

Your new guest barks a laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I brought pizzas should either of you desire them.”

“That’s really sweet but I couldn’t impose-“

Cassian cuts you off, holding a hand up to stop your sentence. “Too late. You’ve imposed. Guess you have to eat the pizza. Besides I hear the best way to keep a great rack is to keep it fed.”

You smile, thinking that maybe this won’t be so hard. It was a rash decision, living with Cassian. You couldn’t stay at home, your parents had made that abundantly clear. Your plans had been to live with them until you graduated in the spring, wanting to save money on housing.

After all the shelves and furniture were set up in your room, you found yourself sitting on the couch with Cassian and Rhysand, pizza boxes on the coffee table in front of you. Rhys, he had told you to call him, had started a movie that was the third in a series. He spent twenty minutes explaining to you the plot of the first two movies. They sounded like generic action movies to you, but you let him go on about the intricacies of the plot and how cool the main character was.

Halfway through the movie the front door opens and closes softly, and all three of you turn to look at the tall man who entered. He was fit, not as muscular as Cassian was, but still toned, even through his shirt. Onyx curls adorned the top of his head, coming close to blocking his hazel eyes. You’re not sure if you’re even breathing looking at him as he looks around the room.

“Azzy, meet my roommate.”

Azzy, as Cassian called him, looked to Cassian to scold him for the nickname before his eyes met yours.

“Azriel’s fine.”

“Oh, okay,” you laugh, telling him your name with a little wave of your hand. His eyes are still on yours, as if he’s trying to commit to memory the name to the face.

“Mor’s friend, right?”

“Yeah, great ass, incredible rack,” Cassian responds, mining out an hourglass figure with his hands. You kick his foot, telling him “is this how you’re going to introduce me from now on.”

He winces as your foot makes contact with his shin, rubbing the afflicted area. “I mean it tells you everything you need to know about someone. You guys can just start calling me ‘big peen’.”

Rhys chuckles, then starts taking a sip of his drink as you tell Cassian, “I think they’d just call you big head, mysterious third nipple.”

Cassian gasps, eyes widening as Rhys spits out his drink, “I can’t BELIEVE Mor told you that about me!”

Rhys gets up, walking to the linen closet to grab a towel to dry off his shirt. Azriel walks to the fridge, grabbing a beer before heading to sit next to Cassian on the other couch as the two of you continue to bicker. As he walks past, you swear you feel every bit of contact as his legs brush past yours.

And if Azriel’s eyes lingered on you as he sat down - you might just have made that up too.

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights, 7 * mv1

the news is out: three time world champion, max verstappen, and his girlfriend of 6 years have been broken up since the singapore weekend.

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: -

notes: wow i took thE longest break from this

(series masterlist)

(prev) // (next)

max isn’t typically the type to let panic settle in. at least, that’s what he likes to think. he likes to tell people he’s not bothered but outsiders are always quick to catch up with his suppressed emotions. 

alas, his worst fears have come true. news has broken that you’ve been broken up for almost 2 months. 

he has not been able to talk about it with daniel, so he can only imagine how things will break down in austin. 

he hopes that it’s not actually that big of a deal. plenty of other drivers have gotten themselves in messier breakups — the post doesn’t seem to touch on any speculations about how yours had come about. he can only bank on the hope that journalists are empathetic enough not to bring you up. 

but you’ve been very involved in his career and the cameras on the paddocks. they never missed the chance to have you speak into a mic or have a private conversation with you. 

pictures snapped of you together are never posted, but would be directly sent to either of you to truly encompass the privacy of your relationship. the respect shared between you and everyone on the paddocks was treasured, which is probably why your presence had been notable after you abruptly disappeared. 

he sinks into his couch, phone in hand as he stares at the pictures that sparked up speculations. it’s a low-quality picture of you leaving the red bull home, head down as your hair shied you away from the camera. the second picture is of him coming out of the building, hair dishevelled as he stood with his arms folded over his chest.

“what do i do?” max mumbles, his finger swiping over the screen again and again, staring at the two pictures. as if it would change the course of things if he did it enough. “do i talk to her?”

“i don’t know, man,” daniel sighs, his face in the far corner of max’s screen. “i mean, the best you can do is to wait it out, right?”

“rumours could spread,” charles mutters, looking away briefly with his eyes widened. “if i were you, i’d want to do some damage control. but that’s probably just me.”

max sits back, staring at the empty half of his hotel bed. your absence is always noted when he’s all alone and he's too awake for his own good, once having the luxury of your company and bright smile making him feel giddy.

the difference between this breakup and all of charles' is that there is no controversy in this one. as far as he's concerned, this is all speculation from photos that are now circulating the internet and your obvious absence on race weekends.

nobody can even really confirm if it's true unless you or max say something. for now, they're just rumours. right?

unless you've started speaking to people, and gossip platforms. but you wouldn't do any of that, or at least that's what he's telling himself. but from what he can dig out of the grave in his brain, there was nothing that happened between you that can be twisted.

but what does he know?

he can only keep praying to the fact that you'll keep it as private as you usually do.

his phone is buzzing endlessly, his other friends sending him texts as the news shocks them as much as the world. lando is asking him if he's holding up fine, martin is expressing how he feels for max, and his own mother asking him why he hadn't told her earlier.

only victoria's message will be getting an answer. after all, she's the first person that found out.

"should i talk to her?" max thinks out loud, maximising the facetime call to get a good look at his friends' reactions. "she never does well with things like this, what if people are bothering her?"

charles' picture is overtaken by alexandra's face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. "you wanna talk to her?"

max shrugs. "i don't know. maybe?"

"would that be the best choice though?" daniel tilts his head. behind him, heidi is approaching cautiously with a small smile. "babe, what do you think?"

heidi shrugs as daniel's camera slowly turns to her. "my opinion is probably not - it's been two months. and judging by the comments that i read, i don't think there's much disrespect that has to be told off publicly."

alexandra nods as charles slowly comes back into the frame next to her. "it's up to you, max. as of right now, it doesn't seem that serious."

max sighs again, this time louder as he feels everything coming down on him. he drops his head back and stares at the ceiling. "i don't know, you guys," he sighs again loudly. "i just want to know if she's alright."

"maybe not now, mate," charles answers sympathetically, frowning at him through the camera.

"just wait it out. it could die down quicker than you think," daniel says hopefully.

max nods, now suddenly feeling disinterest in their conversation. he only craves to be by himself now. "alright, i'll catch you guys in a bit," his eyes turn to the cats sleeping peacefully on the cat tree, "i've got to feed the cats."

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold @princessria127 @ironmaiden1313 @dl-yum @crlsummer @brekkers-whore @minkyungseokie @honethatty12 @barelytolerabled @vellicora @lokigoeschoki @avg-golden-retriever

[sleepyghostuwu]

I've got sort of an odd scenario- how would Dazai, Chuuya and Akutagawa react to their s/o wearing a shirt that's too big for them and they think it's another man's, but in reality, they're not cheating and it's just their dad's or something. I just know Dazai's dramatic ahh wouldn't take it well initially. Ty ty

Ooh, that's a pretty interesting request you've given me to work on, anon :0 Enjoy reading! :D

Wearing your dad's shirt: Akutagawa, Chuuya & Dazai

Akutagawa:

Aku isn't one to be overly dramatic when it comes to this or anything at all, really.

He trusts that you wouldn't pull off any stunts in your relationship with him, though not enough to not cause suspicion when he sees you wearing a shirt that's too big for your body and uncannily fitting for another man.

At this moment, Aku's mind is bombarded with many questions that shook his trust in you: where did you get the audacity from? Why would you do something like that? Who even gave you that shirt to begin with?

There is a slight crack in his composure, but how much further it breaks ultimately depends on your answer to his question.

"Y/n, that shirt you're wearing, where did you get it from?"

You look down at the extremely oversized shirt that clothed you to more than half your thigh. "Oh, this? It's from my dad."

Aku's blank stare was enough to express the puzzlement he felt. "Why are you wearing your dad's shirt if it's clearly too large for you?"

"I feel comfortable in it, nothing else."

"Oh" is all Aku manages as he watches you go about in that baggy shirt of yours.

He's still confused, but at least his trust in you is back.

Chuuya:

Chuuya's not one to be overly dramatic either, but he'll definitely explode if you actually betray him like that. Otherwise, he'd normally keep his cool until his suspicions were confirmed.

Seeing you wearing a shirt that was clearly too big for you was definitely something that took him by surprise and sparked a bit of suspicion in him.

Chuuya trusts in your loyalty to him, though that is sometimes wavered by his insecurity that you'd try to leave him, worse if it's by cheating on him.

"Y/n, whose shirt are you wearing?"

You tug the hem of your oversized shirt. "It's my dad's shirt."

"Eh?" Chuuya frowns in confusion. "Isn't it too big for you to wear?"

"Yeah, but I think it's comfy."

"Huh, if you say so."

Chuuya can't help but smile in relief and amusement when his back is on you. You really are one adorable person.

Dazai:

The D in Dazai stands for ✨ Drama ✨

Jokes aside, as confident as he seems, he's a lot more insecure than you think, so deep down he has already jumped to the worst possible conclusion the moment he saw you in a huge shirt that could've only come from another man.

Then again, he doesn't want to straight-up accuse you of things you (hopefully) did not commit, so he masks his accusation with high-quality drama that'll definitely cover up the suspicion he had.

*gAsp* "No...it can't be...hAS MY DEAR Y/N FOUND ANOTHER MAN TO BE WITH?! AND IN SECRET TOO!! HOW COULD YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS TO ME?!!"

Not comprehending the humour, you blink in utter confusion at his words. "...Dazai, it's my dad's shirt."

Dazai's dramatic shock gave way to confusion. "Your...dad's...?"

"Yeah. He outgrew it and didn't know what to do with it, so he gave it to me."

"Oh."

You have no idea how internally relieved Dazai was to hear that genuine answer of yours.

He's not letting you know that, though.

Instead, he ruffles your hair and teases you about it. "Hehehe, you should really wear something that you fit in, you look more like a dumpling than a human."

"Oh, shut up." <3

[ventismommy]

Cont. of last ask, but maybe even rubbing Gorou's ears or tail as he cums?

(Also, is 💌 taken? If not, can I please be known as 💌-anon?)

hi cutie! absolutely you can be 💌 anon <3 and here you go

sub!gorou x dom!fem reader

reader is referred to by female terms, but I am happy to rewrite it with make or neutral terms! Enjoy~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Out of all the times for General Gorou to be pent up and thinking about your touch, in the middle of a mission is quite possibly one of the worst. Why is it your touch specifically, your hands, that keep replaying over and over in his head?

Well, he thinks he knows the answer to that. You two are comrades and very close friends, yes, but ever since a drunk night after a victory banquet led to you kissing him, your relationship become far more romantic in nature. It wasn't something you discussed with other shoulders, but to call you his lover- and, if the plans he has discussed with Kokomi went well, his soon-to-be fiancée- wouldn't be an untrue statement. Now, as he makes his rounds to make sure everyone else is set, he feels your eyes roaming over him like a cat eyeing its prey. He knows you can tell how pent up he's been- you know him too well.

As the sun begins to sink in the sky, the group starts to set up their tents. The mission is to investigate the passages below Suigetsu Pool, as there have been reports of rumbling and disturbances. But with the crumbling structure here, the soldiers have plenty of room to spread out, and some can even set their tents up in rooms of the ruins, adding more privacy. Gorou supposes he shouldn't be surprised that you choose to set up in one of the more enclosed rooms of the old stone building, but acknowledging why you might be doing it puts leaden butterflies in his stomach and sets his tail wagging anxiously.

He enters the tent as you're laying out sleeping bags and lighting a small lantern that, honestly, doesn't provide much light. The light is enough for him to see your face, though, and the way your eyes watch him in a way he's come to love and hate. He settles down onto the sleeping bag you've rolled out for him to begin unfastening his armor, but he knows full well he won't be sleeping in it tonight with the way you make sure he's looking before you start to undress. Just the sight of your bare torso as your top is discarded makes him freeze.

"Gorou~"

Your voice pulls him out of his staring, and he flushes, one ear twitching. "Y-Yes- sorry, I...um...yes?"

Your quiet laugh sends shivers down his spine.

"Come over here?"

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he scrambles to obey, finishing up removing the half-top that covers his shoulders and coming to sit inches away from you. Absentmindedly, you reach out and ruffle his hair; a sign of approval that he much appreciates.

"Did you...need me for something?" He asks, trying very hard to keep his voice steady as your eyes meet his. The hand you had buried in his unexpectedly fluffy hair comes back down to rest on his thigh, an easy place to reach given he's kneeling.

"Just wanted you over here. I thought it would be a crime to waste the opportunity we've been given. Out on a mission, but still able to stay in what's essentially a room? Away from prying eyes?"

You lean forward and catch his chin in your hand, bringing his face closer to yours til there's barely any space between your lips and his. To his credit, he's managing not to shake too badly, though his hands are still restless in his lap and his cheeks are quickly approaching red.

"I know you've been all worked up, hon. And how often do we get the chance for uninterrupted quality time?"

He tries to say, "Not often," but your lips are on his in a flash and all he manages is "Not." He's not complaining, though. Your kisses start deceptively gentle. Before long, though, he's gripping onto your shoulders as you nibble on his bottom lip. Your hand has moved again, this time from his thigh to his slender waist to pull him closer til he's practically in your lap. Your fingers are starting to slide into the waistband of his pants and the way they're dragging down his back makes him shudder.

Your other hand manages to sneak its way up into his hair, stroking the outer edge of his ear, and he jolts. The little motion makes you chuckle, something that deepens the blush on his face. The sensation of your fingers brushing against his ear- and his subsequent reaction- makes him want to melt into the floor.

But you keep doing it.

You keep rubbing the soft fur of his ears until he whines, getting bold enough to climb into your lap completely. He's all too aware that he's putting himself at your mercy, but he can't find it within himself to care. You're quick to take advantage of this, the closeness allowing you to cover his exposed neck and collarbone in kisses and the occasional bite. At this point, his head is in the clouds, and he doesn't even notice the sounds he's making.

"You're so cute like this."

These words, though, manage to slip through the haze in his mind. He starts to respond but your hand on his thigh is sliding up further and further until you're palming him through the fabric of his pants and there is not a single word in his head. Between that and the hand still toying with his ears, he doesn't know which sensation to focus on.

Gorou can't help bucking his hips into your hand, the low whines coming from him getting higher in pitch. He's well aware you're giggling at his eagerness but thinks he can manage to ignore it given the circumstances. His eyes flick back to the sleeping bag below you two, gauging whether he can actually fall back on it- and then his hands are grabbing your shoulders and pulling you with him as he lays back. "Aww, can't withstand a little teasing, huh? Too pent up? You already want me to get to the point and touch you."

Gorou nods, though he squeezes his eyes shut to avoid the embarrassment. Which makes it impossible for him to notice you leaning closer to him until your voice is whispering right in his ear.

"Is that what you want, General? You want me to slide these off-" you tug at the waistband of his pants- "and touch you properly? Make you cry out for me?"

His stuttering response is so adorable it almost makes you want to eat him up. "Oh- o-oh, archons, yes, um, I want you to do that- I've been wanting y-you to do that, s-so bad-"

"Ask me nicely then, if you want it s-so bad." You say, lightly mocking the last part of his sentence. Never mind that you're still palming him, intentionally making it difficult for him to find his words.

"Ple-mmm- please touch me, archons please I want you to touch me!"

"Good boy~" comes your response, and you make good on your word. Your hands stop their teasing torment to unfasten his pants and slide them down over his hips. You almost want to laugh at how eagerly Gorou lifts his hips to help you.

There he is, looking so pretty beneath you with a cute little flushed cock. You wrap a hand around it and he jolts so hard you almost lose your grip. Poor thing is so sensitive.

The pace you set is slow, but not agonizingly so. Your other hand finds its way back up to his ears, rubbing the soft fur and noticing the precum that spurts out when your fingernails scratch the base of them. It just makes you want to do it over and over.

Gorou is too out of it to even pretend to be embarrassed, writhing underneath your touch. His hips buck when you twist your wrist expertly, and the moan that comes from his mouth is loud- almost loud enough for you to shush him, despite being in a more enclosed structure away from prying ears. For now, you let him cry for you, occasionally letting go of his ear and wiping away his tears with a gentle hand. There's a dual purpose to this; every time you take your hand away from his wildly twitching ear, it's an extra little bit of teasing that you delight in giving.

His little noises are starting to become halting and even more breathless, something that doesn't escape your notice. And so, with a plan in mind, you slow your pace to a stop and let go of him. He starts to fuss at you, but you get to him first.

"Flip over for me, sweetie. Let me play with that cute little tail of yours."

It's adorable, bordering on pathetic, how quickly he obeys. He ends up on his knees, bent forward with his arms resting on the pillow and his head resting on his arms. You drag your fingers from his shoulders to the base of his spine, and he shivers, mouth falling open in a silent whine.

Well, that hand has better things to do- like reaching around him to continue teasing his cock. He's plenty flexible, so you've got no qualms about using your other hand, splayed across his lower back, to push his spine to arch further. Sure, he makes a halfhearted sound of protest- but his tail is wagging. The wagging falters when you resume your slow pace, stroking his cock and wrapping your other hand around the base of his tail. He's starting to whimper again, legs shaking a little bit, and you coo at him encouragingly.

"There you go, baby. Doesn't that feel good?"

"Y- mmmm- yes, m-ma'am, feels s-so good- p-please, faster?"

You hum a sound of agreement as you oblige him, and a loud string of moans- and the occasional curse- comes pouring out of his mouth. It brings a sly smile to your face to see him so desperate for your touch.

One of the arms his head had been resting on removes itself to reach back for you, his hand closing around your wrist but doing nothing to slow your pace. If anything, it seems he's trying to urge you to go faster, and you are happy to do so. Not only do you speed up your pace even more, but you start to use your other hand to comb through the fur at the base of his tail, and he absolutely melts. His knees start sliding apart, seemingly unable to give the effort to stay up.

"Oh, look at you. Having a little trouble holding yourself up?"

When he speaks, it's not even to answer your question- he's too focused on what he's feeling. His grip on your wrist tightens.

"D-Don't stop, please, 'm so c-close-" he manages to stutter out. Luckily for him, edging isn't in your plans tonight.

"I won't stop, don't worry baby. You just focus on feeling good for me, mkay?"

When you look up at where his face rests on the pillow, you realize you can see damp spots- he's been crying even more. Poor overwhelmed baby. The sight makes your heart melt.

Before long, he's shaking and gripping the pillow like it's life or death. His breathing is ragged.

"W-Wanna cum, p-pl- ahh- please, can i- oh, archons!"

After waiting a long moment, just to be a tease, you nod your head. "Go ahead, Gorou. You've been good."

"I've b-been good, 've been g-good-" he repeats to himself before a loud cry interrupts his speech. "O-Oh, f-fuck- cumming!"

With that, his whole body tenses, and he's spilling onto your hand and his sleeping bag. Not that that second mess will matter, since he'll likely sleep on yours with you, curled up at your side. Once you've worked him through his high, you carefully help him to lay on his back, caressing his face. "You did so good, hon. Feel a little better now?"

He just nods tiredly, reaching up to try and pull you down for a hug. You oblige for a few moments before laughing. "I've got to clean you up now, you gotta let go- I promise, hon, I'll be back in your arms in just a little bit, okay?"

He whines, but lets you go, and with a cloth from your pack and some water from your canteen, you manage to get him- and the-ahem- mess on his sleeping bag- cleaned up as fast as possible. And then, as promised, you're laying next to him with his arms wrapped around you, him clinging tight to you. You pet his head comfortingly as he falls asleep, whispering to him about how good he did. And not long after he's dozed off, you follow him into sleep, a contented smile on your face.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

photographs

part two

masterlist

summary: when dean goes to hell, you realize you have almost no pictures of him. when he comes back, you take pictures every chance you get.

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of dean’s time in hell, implied sex/nudity, reader is picked up and carried by dean

author’s note: my longest one yet! :) also, there’s more use of “y/n” then i care to admit.

“dean?” you crawled toward his lifeless body, shaking with sobs as you got closer. “dean, baby, please!”

you sat up next to him and held his hand to your face, ignoring the blood that was now spread across your cheek. you let go of his hand to hold his face and kiss his forehead.

“dean,” you whispered, tears still streaming uncontrollably.

you woke up in a cold sweat. four months it had been since the worst night of your life. you sat up and looked at the picture on your nightstand. it was of you and dean; bobby had taken it about a month before dean had died. bobby had given you the picture along with seven others of dean (all taken when you knew him) when you moved in with him a couple days after dean’s death.

eight or so (fairly low quality) photos, that’s all you had of dean, besides a couple short voicemails and his outgoing message from his several cell phones. you never thought of taking pictures together, it’s like how no one has pictures of their closest friends. but now that he was gone, all you thought about was the moments you had no pictures to remember by. that time he surprised you with your favorite flowers after working separate cases and going a week without seeing each other. or when he made you breakfast in bed when your period cramps were worse than usual. or the little things; the way he smiled after kissing you, how his eyes lit up when you’d bring him a slice of pie, how he’d hum along to metallica while driving to a case with you in the passenger seat. or how he’d look waking up next to you each morning, so peaceful as he stirred and mumbled “good morning” to you with a smile; pulling you to him and kissing whichever part of you was closest, whether that was your cheek or hand he’d kiss you quickly and with such love there were times you’d forget about the monster you were hunting.

you got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of dean’s old def leppard shirts. it no longer smelled like him but it still reminded you of him, and it made you feel closer to him. as you brushed your teeth your phone buzzed and you picked it up, spitting out the toothpaste before answering.

“hello?”

“y/n?”

“who is this?” you asked. you recognized the voice, you’d recognize it anywhere, but you knew there was no way it was him.

“it’s me, sweetheart, it’s dean,” you could hear the strain in his voice. you wanted it to be him so badly, you missed him so much it was driving you insane.

“this is fucking cruel, you know,” you inhaled sharply, holding back tears. “who is this really? some low-level demon? shapeshifter?”

“no, y/n it’s me i- i’m back.”

“you know what, i-” you bit the inside of your cheek. you knew it wasn’t him, but it still sounded like him. “i know this isn’t really dean, and if you call sam or bobby they will kill you, but i- i miss dean too much to care at this point.”

“y/n it’s really me-”

“stop, just- stop. i know you’re a shifter or something, but you sound exactly like him and i miss his voice so fucking much, so please just talk as if we’re having a normal conversation.”

“oh- okay,” he sighed. “how’ve you been, y/n? you taking care of yourself?”

you let out a wry laugh. “when i’m not knee deep in booze, i’m summoning demons.”

“y/n! no, sweetheart, that’s- that’s not what i wanted for you! you were supposed to move on, go back to nursing school.”

“how did you know-” you started then chose to ignore it, wanting to hear dean’s voice. “i was never going back to school, dean, you had to have known that! and ‘moving on’ isn’t really my thing, i'm more into revenge.”

“yeah, you’ve always been stubborn i guess,” he let out a laugh, causing you to smile at the sound.

“well you-”

“y/n, you up?” bobby knocked on the door lightly.

“gimme a minute, don’t hang up, please,” you whispered into the phone then answered bobby; “yeah come on in!” you sat on your bed, slightly smiling at him.

“hey, how’re you doing?” he asked, you shrugged.

“fine, i guess, everything okay?”

“i just got a weird call, about five or so minutes ago, from some asshole pretending to be dean, so i just wanted to give you a heads up, they’re probably gonna call you too.”

“oh- okay- um- thanks bobby,” you nodded slightly. he furrowed his brows.

“that's it? i thought you’d be pissed some monster is using dean’s voice to prey on the-” his expression softened as he realized. “emotionally vulnerable.” he let out a sigh, “it called you already, huh?” you nodded.

“he’s still on the phone, but bobby- it sounds just like dean,” tears welled in your eyes and threatened to fall. “i miss dean so much, it- it physically hurts sometimes bobby. i can’t sleep, i can’t eat, i- i just really fuckin’ miss him.”

“i know, kid, i know.” he sat beside you, you let him take the phone from your hand and he ended the call. “dean was the love of your life, nothing hurts more than losing that.”

“does this feeling ever go away? this like nauseated, broken, deeply sick feeling?”

“not completely, at least it hasn’t for me yet. sometimes i still miss my wife like she died yesterday, but other days it’s not so bad. and those are the days we need to hang on to, because we need to remember that the people we loved, the ones we lost, they loved us too. dean would want you to be happy.”

**

you had just finished your shower when you heard someone pounding on the door. you quickly got dressed in some clean clothes and hurried toward the stairs, grabbing your gun on the way. you tried to see what had gotten into the house, and when you saw him, everything in you froze completely. it couldn’t be him, not really. should you shoot it? you made eye contact with bobby, who slightly shook his head, as if he knew what you were thinking.

“dean?” bobby asked, starting to believe what the man was saying.

“that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you!” dean let out a breath of relief. bobby pulled him in for a hug while you stared in awe. you couldn’t really hear anything they were saying to each other, well you could but you weren’t listening. it’s as if you were suddenly on autopilot. you tucked your gun away and slowly walked down the stairs, surprisingly not making any sound.

“where’s y/n? has she been staying with sam? she’s not alone, right?” dean asked, bobby nodded slightly in your direction. you were now at the bottom of the stairs and two or so feet away from dean. he turned around. your heart leapt out of your chest and you let out a cry, covering your mouth.

“d-dean?” you exclaimed, placing a hand on his cheek. he closed his eyes and leaned into the simple touch. you gasped quietly, still not believing any of it, and half expecting to wake up at any moment.

“y/n,” he whispered, opening his eyes and looking into yours. “it’s- it’s really me, i swear.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your torso. he picked you up slightly so you wouldn’t have to be on your absolute tiptoes and he didn’t have to be hunched over. you giggled at the familiar feeling of being in his arms.

“dean,” you all but squealed as your grip on him tightened. you pulled back and kissed him, unable to stop the smile that was across your face. he kissed you back, also smiling widely. “holy shit, dean!” you pulled away and looked into his eyes. “dean, you- you’re-” you buried your face back in his shoulder and began sobbing, your whole body shaking. he let you stand up and he took a look at your now tear stained face.

“don’t cry, sweetheart,” he whispered, but that only made the tears fall quicker. you laughed a little and he smiled.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled, snuggling into his chest and letting the tears soak his dirty t-shirt. he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you as close as physically possible.

“it’s okay,” he mumbled back, resting his head on yours. “i love you.”

“i love you so much.”

the moment was somewhat ruined by bobby splashing dean’s face with holy water.

“i’m not a demon, bobby,” dean sighed.

“had to be sure,” the older man shrugged and offered dean a kitchen towel to dry his face off.

**

“a camera?” dean laughed a little. he’d been back for about a week and you hadn’t left his side. the two of you were at target buying a few essentials.

“yeah, i recently realized i don’t have a lot of pictures of you, so,” you replied, quieting near the end of the sentence. his teasing smirk turned into a soft, understanding smile.

“well, better get a couple extra memory cards too, who knows how long we’ll have to go between uploading the pictures onto a computer.”

“okay,” you giggled, standing on your tippy toes and giving him a peck on his lower cheek. “love you!”

you hurried and grabbed a couple memory cards. a camcorder caught your eye and you smiled to yourself. you’d want videos of dean too, if something was to happen to him again. you also picked up a large, simple photo album on your way to meet dean at the checkout

**

“mkay, zoom in,” you tested out the camcorder in the mirror, not actually recording anything. “zoom out.”

“what’re you doing?” dean laughed, you turned the camcorder to him and pressed record. he was leaning on the door frame and raised his eyebrows with amusement.

“say your name for the camera,” you giggle.

“c’mon, seriously?”

“humor me?” you pouted, he rolled his eyes. “i’ll make it worth your while,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

“my name is dean winchester, and this,” he put his hands on your shoulders and turned you back to the mirror. “is my beautiful girlfriend, y/n!” he wrapped his arms around your belly and buried his face in the crook of your neck. “i love you, y/n,” he kissed your neck repeatedly, causing you to giggle.

“i love you, dean,” you said between giggles.

**

“i’m literally brushing my teeth, this isn’t a particularly great memory,” dean laughed before spitting out the toothpaste. you had the camera in your hands and took a couple pictures of him; a cheeky smile now on his face as he got closer and engulfed you in a hug.

“but you look so cute doing everyday things,” you smiled up at him.

**

it took dean a couple days, but once he started taking pictures too, he never put the camera down (unless it was a life or death situation, obviously). it became a normal thing to have the camera out, even sam and bobby got into the mood - they let their pictures be taken and they even took pictures themselves. sam loved the camcorder and usually used that, while bobby preferred to use the camera.

dean showed up with a polaroid camera one night, which confused you.

“we already have the other two, you really think we need a polaroid?” you laughed lightly, still happy he was so enthusiastic about taking pictures.

“well, everyone uses the other two - i don’t want sam seeing your boobs,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“my boobs?” you practically spat out your coffee.

“yeah! what? if something happens to you, i don’t want to forget the girls!” he somehow managed to keep a straight face, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “what!”

“you’re adorable, that’s all,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a loving kiss. “so you spent approximately seventy-five-dollars on a polaroid just to take pictures of my boobs?” you mumbled against his lips. he hummed in approval; it seemed to make complete sense to him so you agreed, “mkay, seems reasonable.”

“of course it’s reasonable,” he smiled, kissing you. “wanna test it out?”

“oh definitely,” you smiled too, jumping up so he could carry you over the the motel bed.

**

“photo album one, complete!” you giggled, happy with your work as you handed it over to dean. “i put the date on the back of each one, and there’s room if we want to write about the picture, too. i already did that for some of them.”

“this is beautiful, sweetheart,” he smiled and flipped through the pages.

“i figured we could keep it in our room at bobby’s,” you suggested.

“okay,” he wasn’t really listening, he was fully focused on the collection of pictures from the past month or so. you all looked so happy, as if these pictures weren’t taken between slaying demons and monsters, or setting fires to corpses. (and now talking with angels, which still sounded crazy).

“you’ll like this one more,” you tossed him a miniature photo album that was meant to hold polaroids, it was filled with every picture taken with the newest camera. he looked through it quickly, smirking to himself almost every picture, then went back to looking at the main album. “i couldn’t find the one we took the first night, though, we didn’t leave it at the motel, did we?”

he didn’t say anything, just handed you his wallet; mesmerized by the photos of you, him, bobby, and sam. you smiled to yourself when you opened his wallet. god i love this man.

part two :)

[zuhuan]

BSD men x S/O after an exhausting day •ू♡ (pt.2)

Characters: Chuuya Nakahara, Ranpo Edogawa

Summary: The reader starts to get completely exhausted from the everyday trials and the following characters help s/o through it all.

Genre: fluffy comfort

COMISSIONS -> open

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Chuuya Nakahara:

Have you ever dreamed of what the perfect relationship is like? You and Chuuya have exactly that kind of love relationship. You discussed everything with each other, a caring and loving boyfriend (who is quite overprotective) and these same qualities can be said for you as well. Everything seemed perfect, but things haven't been right with you lately. And you were also worried that your boyfriend works a lot of overtime at the port mafia, and you know, even if he asked Mori for a few days off, he wouldn't get it because he was assigned such important tasks that only he can do (due to his ability).

One day, when you got home from tiring school, where you wrote a lot of final exams, you felt that you had to release all the anger and sadness you had accumulated. You didn't even hesitate, you changed your clothes, washed your face and drank a glass of water and then entered the bedroom you two shared. You laid down on the bed and let out a big sigh and started sobbing. After a while you suddenly heard the front door handle open and you thought "Someone broke in?" "Or... Chuuya got home early from work today..?" That would have been the worst possible outcome, so you quickly wiped away your tears and peeked out the door. You saw Chuuya just taking off his coat. You calmed yourself down and went over to greet him "Welcome home, my love". You buried your head in his neck so he couldn't see your teary red eyes. Chuuya sensed that something was wrong with you (you can't hide anything from him, he'll figure it out anyway). At first he just hugged you and said hello. There was concern and sadness on his face that what could have caused you to cry. He grabbed your shoulder and stood facing you, looking straight into your eyes. You tried to hide your face but you couldn't. "What happened baby?" He looked serious. You didn't answer him, you stood silently. Sighs and looks at you - "Do you want to talk about it?" No reaction from you. Looks at you, and strokes your hair.

You sat next to each other on the sofa and the silence was only broken by your soft sniffles. It was quite unpleasant for Chuuya, he didn't know what to do and it hurt him terribly that you were crying and he couldn't help you. He felt that you were angry with him for having to work so much overtime. But he only wanted good for you with that. Suddenly you start crying again from the tension, then you get up and want to walk away from Chuuya, but he grabs your hand and pulls you close. "Umm, can you tell me why you started crying, darling? I want to understand the reason behind this." You mutter. "Why do you have to work so much overtime? You hardly have time for me and I miss you a lot..." He pulls you closer and hugs you tightly. "Hey, hey there, stop crying please." "Now I'm here for you and everything is fine, I promise I'll try to get home from work as soon as possible and spend more time with my little darling." Chuuya's reassuring words made you feel relieved and safe, nothing and no one could hurt you now. You laid your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat as he caressed your cheeks and whispered soothing words in your ear. You fell asleep peacefully on the couch hugging each other.

Your boyfriend wanted you to be loved by him, so he wanted to spoil you in as many ways as possible. Since money was not a problem for him, he took you to a huge mall and bought you everything you looked at. But of course he knew that love and happiness cannot be bought with money. That's why he arranged with Mori to get 2 days off every week to spend with you. He even arranged for you to be with him during this time when he got a non-dangerous job. You were very happy and so was he, that he could spend so much time with his love.

Chuuya is a very caring and interested boyfriend who tries to do everything for the happiness and safety of the two of you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Ranpo Edogawa:

You and Ranpo have quite an interesting relationship, since Ranpo gets along best with people of the same intelligence level as him, but that 200 IQ is not so easy to achieve. You know Ranpo has a childish and immature persona, to hide all of the grief and darkness he’s seen. You can't have many secrets in front of Ranpo, since he finds out about all the mysteries and your secrets anyway, or already knows about them but doesn't tell you. He really likes when you take care of him a lot, he is very demanding, but he also likes to reciprocate this.

Ranpo usually spends most of his time in the office, except when the great detective has to solve mysteries. When he finishes work and leaves the agency, the first thing he does is call you and ask how your day was. He called you as usual, but you didn't pick up the phone. At first, your boyfriend thought that you had work to do and were not up to it. He was calling you almost every 20 minutes and that was enough for Ranpo to start worrying about you. He rushed home as fast as he could, ran up the stairs to your apartment, opened the door and immediately looked around every corner of the apartment, but he couldn't find you anywhere. He tried to call you one last time but was unsuccessful. He immediately began to wonder where you might be or with whom. It occurred to him that you might be at the shared favorite places in Yokohama Park, because you used to go there often when you were mentally ill. It was late afternoon when Ranpo got to the park, but he didn't see you anywhere. Your boyfriend has always been calm and handled such situations calmly, but now somehow he was completely upset and nervous. He was very worried about you.

He looked for you everywhere until he finally saw you sitting alone on the beach. The soft wind blew your hair and the gentle waves on the shore barely touched the soft skin of your legs. Ranpo slowly started walking towards you and when he got there he leaned over you. "What is my honey doing here?" He smiled at you as you looked into his eyes in surprise. "Nothing. I just came here to escape from my thoughts." He looked at you suspiciously and then spoke "And that's why you can't answer my calls?" You could sense that Ranpo was mad at you, but even with that you didn't want to tell him the truth (not that you needed to tell him). "Who was that?" He asked calmly as he placed both hands on the back of his head. You were very surprised when he said that, but as expected of him, he already knew everything about what happened in advance. He wanted to sound solid with the previous question, but it didn't go well. You stood up and faced him, tugging at the bottom of your shirt. He hugged you and then held your hand. "It will rain my love, let's go home and talk about everything that happened." You two headed home. During the walk, Ranpo asked you how your day was and similar questions. Talking to him completely took your mind off the bad things. His hand was warm as always and he held your tiny hand protectively and tightly, it gave you peace.

When you got home to your apartment, your boyfriend made you two hot tea and you sat down at the table in the living room. You poured your heart out to him, he listened carefully and tried to provide you with solutions to your problems. If you swayed even a little during the conversation and started to cry, Ranpo sat closer to you and put his hand on your thigh. "My my, so sensitive, my poor sweetie." He smiles and kisses your nose. "Let's do something together to distract you, okay?"

He's a bit sarcastic and makes a lot of jokes when it comes to things like that. But if all this happens to you, then he try to do his best and put his childish behavior aside.

You liked it? Check this out! Click

[green-sky-smoke]

Reader asks Husk about his ideal date. (~1300 words)

"My ideal date, huh? The one where i win all your money in poker." He laughs, and smiles at you firmly, his eyes pierce at you warmly, like he was looking at nostalgic show, on old, thick tv screen, in worst quality possible. "Bring me cards, hun, i shall do a little," he waves palms happily, "magic! Watch future, how good your chances are." He laughs purringly. Then his smile and cheerful look dissolves. He's never like this for long. "But if you don't plan it... Honestly, i'm not really used to dates. I'm not interested in flowers and fancy dinners, i saw enough of them. I am a man of simple pleasures. I have booze here, why don't just stay where we are?" he tilts his head a little, with catlike grace and elegance, expecting you to nod. And then you both hear something heavy, loudly falling on the floor, and a lot of swears and arguing. His ears press on his head from the sudden noise.

"Well. That's why. We may go somewhere." He sights, annoyed. Husk is frowning, looking in almost empty bottle, like lines of light and reflections on emerald glass will say something his drunk brain stubbornly refuses. He tries very hard to think it out, but he got solid brain fog.

"How about... Well..." he is really lost in his own thoughts. You can almost see how his neurons try to reach one another, but fail miserably, and pain gently swipes them away. "How about... About..."

No. Date isn't a game, it's when you entertained enough being with someone. Not a game. You did games everyday, Husk, what make date unique if it just another playful robbery? Date is not another gambling game, loss of big money and property. Especially not of someone who you like. Maybe you can both play and share loss, or win, playing together and not against each other... But against anyone else? Hm. Would be nice to offer it later, if he won't forget.

He hasn't had any sugarcoated romantic fantasies in a long time, and his brain rejected him creating some now, when he got someone interesting enough. The most interesting thing was just looking at your confused, annoyed face, and just any negative emotion. He felt better sometimes, seeing unhappy faces, when he is himself aren't happy at all about where it all ended for him. Husk hunched over the table, puzzled. Looks like he completely zoned out.

Most of all, he enjoys spending time together, calmly, not in a fight. Table games where he can bluff and laugh at someone's bad strategies and skill, or hand motorics. Magic tricks and spectacular shows. Gently massages and some cuddling. Sleeping and resting, doing nothing. He doesn't like very pricy places, or sports. He isn't most complex person, so it's quite a mystery for him why you would have interest in alcoholic with ludomania who likes to mock you lovingly, or insult. It's kinda easy when he presented with people insecurities every day, every year, when they can't shut up about it, and any anecdotes happening. He could write dissertation about it.

"Cheap, and funny." He chuckled, as your face becomes a little disappointed. "What? Not the answer you wanted?" He smiled, a bit smug. He enjoys your confusion, and how you try to think of questions to to clarify exactly what he wants, when you know that he won't reply long, he mostly gives you very vague answers that tells nothing at most.

"Let me tell you a thing, boo... Planning perfect dates is the most useless thing to do. Life is always unpredictable, chaotic, troubled and hard in hell. Situations always change, your mood, your tastes, you never the same person as day, or hour ago. You never know. If you hunt perfection, perfect place, perfect person, perfect reaction, day and time, you will end up miserable. And... You can try small things and be happy with surprises from this chaotic universe we live in, being constantly amazed how bad you are at fortune-telling!" He spreads his arms with enthusiasm, and then puts them down, waving one. He takes an indifferent sip of alcohol. "Or whatever. I don't care." He for a moment forgets what he wanted to add. Seems like he forgets that you're here too, too entertained with looking at same bottles, as if he was in an elite art gallery. His head migraine felt as if brain is expanding like the universe, right in his skull, and it is about to crack, while he won't be able to say anything intelligible or catch a coherent thought. He needs time to frown. You just look at him, wanting to stroke him. He looks so soft and fluffy, but you can't tell a moment you can do it.

"There isn't such a thing i would call a 'perfect date'. But there is 'it wasn't so bad as i expected'." he says before another long pause. He is clearly thinking hard, trying to scratch words off the walls of the skull, that hit him with an electric shock for any touch. His body was sometimes a real prison, making him worse person, who can really, really never leave for long.

"There may be all things i can enjoy to a point of addiction, but i would just act as grumpy ass until you take me there, waving booze, fists, threats, and i would know how enjoyable this is only after." He smiles and cackles, a bit annoyed and a bit self-ironic. He knows his brain and mood tricks pretty well, but believes he don't really need or can change a thing. He hates it, but he wouldn't wish to be anyone else. "It all seem too boring, overrated, overpriced and annoying to me when i think about it. I can find all reasons to not go anywhere and not move at all. Im in the point of life where it's really hard to find joy and eagerly seek things. You know?" He shrugs. "Go on, i don't mind, if you can bear with me constantly rejecting anything im not used to, and being grumpy old growler. It may at some point end as perfect date i would be sad to forget." He looks at you, like he doesn't really believe it, but willing to let you try. It doesn't matter to him, he will suffer each way in same amount, you wouldn't make it much worse than Alastor. " ...Or not. Who the hell knows. Maybe you will have patience to make some use of such boring, forever grudging and mean demon. Im not the best choice, and it will only make you pathetic to try make impossible work." You smile, finally out of confusion. He just invited you to annoy him, how sweet. You bend over to him and hold out your hand. He doesn't understand your gesture, so he just hand you some heavy bottle of some sweet, sparkling tonic for cocktails. You move the bottle to the table, and you put your hand on his. It suprised him, but he smiled at this micro-miscommunication, and places other hand over your. Old cats are playful too. And no cat will reject some good, pricy food and quiet place to see all things, not just hear behind the bar table. "Well, you are the strongest creative source of new things in my life for now." He smiles faintly. Maybe he was completely sarcastic. "So, take care of yourself. I can't appreciate you most times, but it would be loss for all hell. And i think you didn't drink in a while, so you need some liquid more than hold my hand, dumdum." He gets his hand out of your warm touch, and moves the bottle almost in your face. "Or shall I shake it for you?" He laughs. Husk believes you totally can use some foam of wrath in your face too.

[yuitoru]

Can you do Blue Lock Rin x female reader x Sae? The reader is a very sweet and kind girl. The Itoshi brothers are fighting for her love.

a/n: hi! i got this req twice so ill js answer this one and leave the other. if im being honest i had no idea how to write this and tbh i wasnt that comfortable writing something like this, so im really sorry if it wasnt like how you wanted it to be!!

ʚ ₊˚✧ ⠀⠀⠀ COMPETITION

incl : r.itoshi , s.itoshi

the itoshi brothers were known for their similar personalities - mannerisms especially. they shared the same qualities, and they hated each other for it - sarcasm, attitude, dry humour ... sae and rin were one of the same.

so it should have been expected when they both fell for the same girl, as similar as they are.

you were rin's friend initially, with the two of you being the same age and sae two years above you both. most of the time, you didnt speak to sae, either out of nerves, or fear of the older boy. it wasnt like sae had ever done anything to make you scared of him; he was just a lot older, making your younger self tremble in his presence.

however, as you and rin grew up together, he stared falling for you, and he fell hard. it was around halfway through your middle school years when he realised how much he actually liked you; someone had accidentally kicked a ball at your head, and rin took care of you - after having yelled at and punched the person who had hurt you. the thought that you were in pain and he couldnt take it away was too much for rin, and thats when he understood how he felt about you.

so, as any little brother does, rin's first thought is to confide in his brother. one day after school, rin was stood outside sae's bedroom door, his hand hesitating as he went to knock. pulling himself together, rin knocked gently on the door, and at the sound of his brother's voice telling him to come in, he walked into the room.

"i need your help"

was the first thing rin said. sae's eyes widened slightly before he relaxed and sat up on his bed, patting the space next to him for rin to come sit next to him. once he did, sae turned to look at him.

"well, whats up?"

"i think i like someone, and i dont know what to do..."

whatever sae was expecting, it wasnt that, and it showed. the shock on his face was present for a few moments before he calmed down, and ruffled his little brother's hair. by this point, sae had had his fair share of confessions, so he knew mostly how they were done.

"well, whos the lucky girl?"

"...yn"

with that, sae's entire world stopped. he felt his heart slow down and the hand in rin's hair fell limp. rin liked you? why did it have to be you? sae felt like crying in that moment, but he wouldnt let himself; he wasnt about to be weak in front of his little brother that liked the same girl as he did.

sae couldnt remember a time where he didnt like you. from the moment that the two of you met, sae thought that you were the cutest thing ever - a bundle of nerves as you struggled to hold eye contact with him. as the three of you grew up together, sae's feelings for you grew as well, and the fact that you had grown to be so pretty didnt help either. now sae was stuck in the moral dilemma of losing the possibility of you and him, or crushing his little brother's heart as such a tender and fragile age.

"...thats sweet .. rin."

"so, what do you think i should do??"

"just, tell her ... whats the worst that will happen, right..?"

© yuitoru™ — dont copy, plagiarise, repost, modify and/or translate my works.

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests: heard of hearing and/or partially blind Steve + his parents realizing. Maybe they come home & see how their house has changed to be more accessible for Steve? Or something like that.

HONESTLY THIS ONE HURTED. But as usual, you provide the quality shit!!!! Poor Steve, but also if it ain't hurt/comfort, then did I even write it? Everyone loves Steve. Except his parents. His parents suck. But everyone else? Angels. Hope you love it darling!!! - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------------------

Concussions were a bitch.

Multiple concussions in a three year period were a bitch.

But the worst part was when he noticed he couldn’t hear out of his left ear. Robin had been talking to him at work on his left side, whispering about some customer that was walking down every single aisle as if they didn’t know what movies were out, and he didn’t even notice until she switched sides halfway through a sentence.

He pretended it was fine, that he’d heard her the whole time, but then she asked him a question he couldn’t answer. She walked to his left side and said something, and when he shook his head, she bit her lip, fighting back tears.

“It’s okay, Robs. I can still hear out of the other one,” Steve said to comfort her, but also to comfort himself.

If he lost it in one ear, he could lose it in the other, and then what?

She tried to convince him to get a hearing aid, but he didn’t think he needed one.

“Your parents sent you money for medical expenses, use it for this!”

But he couldn’t.

And then he started getting blurry vision in both eyes. The left was rapidly growing worse, and Dustin noticed.

“Dude, you’re squinting. Do you have a migraine? You could’ve had Eddie drive me.”

“Nah, just tired. Trying to focus.”

Part of that was true. The squinting helped him focus a little, but he knew he had to do something about it.

So he sat down with Robin and came up with a plan.

He hated every fucking second of it.

“You get a scan first, we need to know if this is gonna keep getting worse or what permanent damage is there. You get glasses-“

“I might not need-“

“You get glasses. Then you get fitted for a hearing aid.”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve rolled his eyes.

But looking back, he was grateful Robin made him do it.

The doctors had been amazed he was able to talk with the damage done.

“Will I lose my ability to talk?” He asked, realizing that not being able to hear, see, and talk was too much for him to deal with.

“I think we can work through some physical therapy type exercises to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’m glad you came in now and not a few years from now.”

Robin never said ‘I told you so,’ probably sensing that Steve wasn’t coping well with the news.

They told him he would most likely lose all hearing over the years, and his vision would progressively get worse, though it would most likely plateau and he wouldn’t lose it completely.

They said he needed to do vocal exercises every day, brain exercises as often as possible, and to come back the moment he recognized any change in his speech.

So he lived with the anxiety of not being able to communicate with anyone he loved every second of every day.

Dustin, Will, Mike, and Max had done research for weeks, finding things they could do to help him live in his house alone. Sure, they were there often, almost enough to be considered roommates, but that wouldn’t always be the case.

They would all grow up and leave.

Max had lost her own vision after Vecna, only able to see light and sometimes movement, but never any detail.

The day he got his glasses, she threatened him with murder if he didn’t wear them.

“The more you strain your eyes, the worse they’ll get. Wear the glasses. I’m sure you look just as cute as always.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that, but he didn’t want to piss Max off, so he wore them all day every day.

Dustin had found a way to wire the doorbell to the lights in the whole house, so if it rang, and somehow Steve couldn’t hear, he’d see the lights flash three times from any room he was in.

He’d done something similar with the walkie, so Steve would know if someone was trying to communicate with him.

Will figured out a light system for the phone, where it flashed with green while it rang and red if he missed a call that went to their voicemail.

It only worked if he was in the kitchen, living room, or his bedroom and paying attention, but the thought behind it made him want to cry.

He got debilitating migraines frequently, which left him bedbound, unable to even get up to use the bathroom on his own sometimes.

They figured out a signal for his walkie that he could push the button in a sort of Morse code to make sure someone knew he needed help.

If he couldn’t get to his walkie for some reason, Dustin programmed buttons on all the phones: *1 called Robin, *2 called Eddie, and *3 called Dustin.

All of his meds were moved to the drawer by his bed, with a reminder note in every room of his house, just in case he forgot.

Which was apparently another thing he had to worry about: his memory.

The doctors seemed to think he would be okay if he stayed active and healthy otherwise, and definitely needed to avoid another concussion, but they did say he could notice some issues as he got older.

Mike looked up what vitamins he needed to help boost his memory and vision, and increased his iron intake to hopefully stave off some of the migraines before they even started. He put the instructions with his medication reminders all over the house.

But what surprised him most was what happened when his parents came home early on a random Thursday morning.

He was dealing with a bit of a migraine hangover, the day before being a blur of calling for help, reaching for his meds, and Eddie arriving to make sure he stayed hydrated and made it to the bathroom as needed.

Eddie was still here, in fact.

So when he heard them banging around downstairs, his eyes flew open and he looked at a still sleeping, very shirtless Eddie next to him in his bed.

Nothing happened obviously. Eddie just ran hot.

But his parents had already been questioning him a lot about not having a girlfriend in a while and hanging out with “queers” like those two things alone could make him gay.

And if they saw Eddie like this, they would make assumptions.

Assumptions that would get him kicked out of the house that everyone just worked so hard to make accessible for him.

So he got up as quickly, but quietly as he could, ignoring the buzz in his ear where his hearing aid was loose from sleeping in it. He wasn’t technically supposed to, but he didn’t like anyone touching his head on migraine days so it stayed in.

Eddie didn’t budge, and he hoped he stayed that way while he tried to keep his parents busy.

Then the lights flashed and he heard the distant high pitched ring of the doorbell.

“What the hell?” His father asked as Steve ran down the stairs.

“Steven?” His mother asked as he flew past them and made it to the front door.

“Steve!” Dustin yelled excitedly as Steve glared at him.

“Dustin, not now.”

“Why? I saw Eddie’s van, so I figured-“

“Who is at the door, Steven?”

Steve closed his eyes and heard Dustin mumble ‘shit’, before he turned around to face his parents.

His glasses were dirty, but he could see that the looks on their faces were not impressed.

“Since when do you wear glasses?” His mom asked.

“Is that a hearing aid?” His dad added.

“Dustin, I’ll call you later.”

“Answer the questions.”

“I started wearing glasses and the hearing aid after a few concussions that caused a lot of damage.”

“What’s going on with the lights? Do they always flicker like that?”

Steve hadn’t really expected them to care much about him, but it still hurt a little how quickly they became concerned about the house instead of him.

“They’re a visual aid so if I’m not wearing my hearing aid or my hearing gets worse, I’ll know when the doorbell rings.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Yeah, it is,” Eddie said from the stairs, luckily not shirtless.

“Who the hell are you?” Steve’s dad didn’t waste time with pleasantries, he never did unless someone had something to offer him.

“I’m Eddie. Steve’s friend.”

“His friend?” Steve’s mom was hesitant to be obvious about what she meant, but everyone could understand where she was going with the questioning.

“Yeah, or would you prefer if we were boyfriends?”

Steve couldn’t help the snort he let out.

Eddie wasn’t the type to hide himself away, but he wouldn’t purposely make Steve’s life harder.

“Is there a reason you’re here?”

“I was taking care of him yesterday. It got late so I stayed.”

“Take care of him?” His mother turned back towards him. “Are you sick?”

“I get migraines.”

“We all get migraines, Steven,” his father said as he crossed his arms.

“But we all don’t get the kind that leave us crying and throwing up for hours on end because we can’t even see straight, do we, Richard?” Eddie asked as he walked closer to them.

“I don’t know who you think you are-“

“I told you, I’m Eddie. And as far as I’m concerned, I, and quite a few other people in town, are quite good at taking care of Steve. Unlike his parents.”

“Steve’s a grown man-“

“Yeah, now. But where were you when he wasn’t and got the concussions that caused this?”

Steve could feel his head pulsing, and he knew his migraine would be back at full force if he didn’t rest.

He took his hearing aid out for a bit of relief, the volume of his father and Eddie arguing going down considerably.

He massaged his neck the best he could, knowing that the release of some tension would at least keep the pain at bay until this could be over.

Then, he saw the phone start flashing green.

“What is going on with the phone?”

His mother directed the question at him, but Eddie stopped berating his father long enough to answer her.

“It’s so Steve knows it’s ringing if he happens to have his hearing aid out like he does now. In case no one is here with him and someone needs to reach him.”

“That explains not answering our calls.”

“I think that could just be that you don’t call at all.”

Eddie moved closer to Steve.

“Go upstairs, Stevie,” he said quietly into his right ear. “I can handle them.”

Steve was too tired, too frustrated, too borderline on a migraine to fight.

He walked upstairs, ignoring his father’s protests, his mother’s pleas, and Eddie standing in front of them both raising his voice to be heard.

Everything felt blurry as he removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes when he made it up the stairs.

His room was dark still, the blackout curtains still drawn closed, lights off, like Eddie had suspected it might be a bad day again.

His pills were on the table, a cup of water next to them. He set his glasses down and took them, trusting that Eddie followed the instructions perfectly.

He always did.

He always took such good care of him.

He came at the drop of a hat, even if Robin was already here. He brought Steve’s favorite soda, insisted it helped with migraines even though it probably didn’t. He massaged the spot on Steve’s neck that always held the most tension, pulled him close until he fell asleep on the couch or in the bed, always on his chest.

He’d been learning and teaching everyone sign language too.

Steve had started learning immediately, and so did Robin, but Eddie had insisted on it too, and started teaching the kids. He’d been showing Max one sign at a time, putting her fingers and hands into the movement so she knew how to do it.

And Steve didn’t think he could love Eddie more.

But he figured if Eddie was interested in him, he would have made a move already.

He could very distantly hear Eddie’s voice saying something, but he wasn’t sure what. With his hearing aid out, he usually couldn’t hear anything downstairs from his room.

He closed his eyes, settling under the blankets so he could try to do what Eddie wanted him to.

He drifted in and out, tired, but not quite enough to fall asleep all the way.

At some point, Eddie had made it back to the room and got in bed, his hand running through Steve’s hair gently.

“Eds?”

“It’s alright, Stevie. Your parents are gone. They won’t be back again for a while.”

“Mkay.”

He let himself drift again, safe with Eddie there.

[myjisung]

stray kids : their perfect date !

content. stray kids ot8, gn!reader, short hcs — fluff.

warning. general mention of food in minho's bit

wordcount. 900

bang chan ( 방찬 )

any date fulfills chan's need to spend time with you but the perfect date, to him, is a day spent at the beach. you are no stranger to chan's love for the sea so, you often offer to travel over to the coast in order to spend some time together, enjoy the scenery and walk barefoot in the water. chan would shine the brightest in those moments, especially when you join him in the water to be silly together. those days at the beach are exhausting but, chan's smile is worth every bit of fatigue you feel the day after.

lee know ( 리노 )

minho likes to spend quality time over a good meal, which is why he really enjoys eating out with you. he would let you pick the restaurant or menu and then have the best time ever. it's not really about the food but more about sharing a moment together, eating off of each other's plates and sharing dessert. he likes the way you pout when you realize you do not enjoy the food you insisted to choose eventhough he told you you would not like it. but minho also loves switching dishes and letting you eat what he picked specifically for you in the first place.

changbin ( 창빈 )

if you were to ask him what he thinks is a perfect date, changbin would reply that any date with you is what comes the closest to being perfect. but if he had to choose, he would say that he enjoys it the most when you go out to grab a drink until late in the night.

changbin likes laidback dates outside. sitting at a bar, with a cocktail or any kind of soda just to talk about anything that comes to your mind is his definition of a perfect moment spent with you. he finds that it is in those special instances that he connects with you best, when you bask in his own presence and let yourself flow with the conversation.

hyunjin ( 현진 )

now this one might be on the nose but hyunjin absolutely adores dates at the museum. he loves walking around in a quiet space all while admiring works from his favorite artists. he enjoys the intimacy of holding conversations in hushed voices and looking at your face when deep in thought in front of an artist's work. hyunjin would tell you everything he knows about the pieces he is familiar with and answer all the questions you might have about them. he is the type to bring both his camera and sketchbook along with him and he might end up drawing a quick sketch of you admiring a beautiful picture if the opportunity to shows itself.

han ( 한 )

he's a nervous guy. han would be stressing about an upcoming date days ( if not weeks ) before it happened—getting all up in his own head and imagining the worst case scenarios until it was time to go. one way for him to feel less anxious about it and fully enjoy himself is to take you to the movies. what jisung likes most about dates at the cinema is that he does not have to stress about conversation starters. once the movie is over, he knows you will be talking about it and have a good time whether it was a good or bad watch.

felix ( 필릭스 )

now this guy loves an over the top date. he absolutely adores to go on adventures with you, which is why he enjoys sightseeing dates! he would brainstorm with you what places, what views, you have been wanting to see and he will make it happen on that next date you guys have planned. felix loves it from the booking of train tickets to the ride home and the way your head falls on his shoulder when you doze off.

he loves to take pictures as the day goes by—to share them with you but also to keep some of them to himself. felix loves experiencing new things with you.

seungmin ( 승민 )

as a simple guy, seungmin loves simple things. he is not big on sitting around and do nothing but talk ( tho he enjoys it thoroughly as well ). so, a perfect date for him is to go on a walk with you. he likes the park the most but seungmin could make do with any setting. he likes an unplanned route, talking about everything and nothing at the same time while you walk around. sometimes, those walks turn into completely different dates. you've walked past a cute looking café? it becomes a coffee date then. the book shop at the corner caught your eye? let's read a book on a bench at the park and talk about it as he walks you back home then.

i.n ( 아이엔 )

jeongin usually lets you pick the places you go to when you plan dates together. not that picking is a chore, but rather because he likes making you happy. however, the few times he insists you go somewhere together, it is always to go book a karaoke room. he likes sharing an interest of his with you, showing off the new techniques he has been taught or just watching you kill highnotes in front of him. jeongin adores singing ballads along with you just as much as he enjoys screaming to the tune of cartoon's opening songs in the same mic as yours. those are moments he looks back on fondly whenever he misses you.

taglist. @l3visbby — let me know if you would like to be added / removed.

© myjisung. please do not copy, translate, repost or claim my work as your own.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

He's a Phantom

whumptober23 day 27- let me see fandom- dp x dc TW- brief injury summary- Jason encounters the GIW

ao3 whumptober23 masterlist part 6 of DLM

They had been searching for an hour when Jason heard a commotion. He approached the noise and saw three men in white suits on the neighboring rooftop. 

His first thought was that they must be out of towners and that they were stupid to be wearing all white. His second thought was, oh shoot, they’re carrying weapons. Specifically they had weird, glowing green weapons.

He was about to call it in when all three men turned to him, raised their weapons and fired.

Jason rolled out of the way and took out his own guns as he continued to dodge their shots.

He fires off a few shots of his own and manages to hit one of the agent’s legs. But he doesn’t have time to celebrate this victory since immediately after one of the glowing green beams hits him in the shoulder. 

It burns. Jason stumbles back trying to avoid the rest of the shots, but another clips his side and another his leg. He crumples to the ground. It feels like acid eating away at him. His mind is going fuzzy with pain.

He needs to call for help.

He can faintly hear them discussing how best to get to where he is. He can’t let them do that. 

Shakily, he activates his comm. “O.”

“What is it, Hood?”

“I think— I think I found our bad guys…” he slurs.

“Hood, what do you mean?”

Jason can’t bring himself to answer. HIs whole body feels like it’s burning.

“Hood! I’m sending Nightwing to your location.”

Jason can’t acknowledge her. He hopes his brother gets here soon. He can hear the agents walking up the fire escape.

He tries to get up again, but he can barely move his arms.

Then he hears a shout and the sound of the weapons being fired again. There’s a buzzing in the air, the faint hum of electricity, and the cold bite of winter wind.

There’s the sound of more fighting, and he can hear the agents cursing. There’s what sounds like crackling ice followed by silence. Jason tries to move his head to see what’s happening, but all he sees is smoggy Gotham sky.

Then there's a face above him, ethereal in quality with glowing white hair and eyes that remind Jason of the Lazarus pit but brighter.

“What are you doing here?” The voice sounds familiar, but Jason can’t quite place why. He should know this person, but he knows he’s never seen anyone quite like this.

The kid, because now that Jason looks at him a little closer this person clearly looks young, sighs, and goes to place his hands on Jason.

Jason makes a noise of protest and tries to shift away.

“Calm down, let me see.” his hands settle on Jason’s torso.

Immediately, a cool feeling begins to spread, easing the worst of the pain.

“Who…” he manages before.

The kid gives him a strange look then focuses back on whatever he’s doing to Jason. “It’s me. Danny.” 

Jason’s mind blue screens for a moment. This looks nothing like Danny. But then, Jason looks a little closer, looks past the glow and white hair and green eyes, and he sees that the face is the same. Huh. 

“I’m going to take you back to your apartment. There’s not much I can do for your injuries in the middle of a rooftop.”

Jason can’t do anything to resist as the kid scoops him up as if Jason weighed almost nothing. Then a tingling sensation passed over him, and then they were flying.

--------------------------

A few minutes later, Nightwing arrives on an empty roof. “O, I don’t see him.”

There’s silence for a moment before she speaks. “His tracker is on the move, but it’s moving strangely. Almost as if… It’s almost as if he’s flying.”

“What?” Dick asks and then he hears a grunt from beside the building. He walks over to the edge and stares. 

There on the fire escape are three men dressed in white suits carrying strange weapons. But even stranger is that they’re all frozen in a thick layer of ice to the escape stairs, with the ice encasing them to their elbow and a thin layer over their mouths.

“I think we’ve got a bigger situation. I just found some men dressed in white suits frozen to the fire escape. And they've got some strange weapons.”

“Do you think they’re the agents after Hood’s kid?” Tim asks.

“Might be.” Dick answers.

“This might be good news.” Oracle says. “Nightwing, Hood’s tracker stopped at his apartment. I want you to head over there. Red Robin, head to the possible agent’s location. Try to figure out what you can and see if we need to call the police. I’ll send a message to B. His meeting at the watchtower should be almost over by now anyway.”

“Will do,” Dick and Tim answer.

Hopefully, they can find Jason and the kid, and this situation won’t escalate any further. But Dick has a bad feeling that things will only get more complicated.