#me: does an ask thing because I love you all and love interacting with you

[lulunothulu]

There's not many Glen Powell stories could you do one for me plz:)

So Glen and Reader have been dating about a year. she's not in the entertainment industry she is just a RN he ask her to join him for the press tour for Twitters overseas. She goes with Glen to do some interviews and over hears a conversation where people think she is just with Glen for the money and everyone sees it. She's never asked Glen for money or help but he does occasionally do things for her out of love. She starts to pick up alot of extra shifts at the hospital and dip into her savings to afford all that stuff for the press tour to the point she's passes out one day after working 3 doubles in a row. Glen shows up and ask why she has been working so much and she comes clean about what she heard and how she dipped into her saving to afford the trip. He comforts her and makes her feel better and let's her know he knows she loves him for him and not his money and he asked her to come on the trip bc he wanted her there and he loves her and he loves to spoil her that's not gonna change.

I absolutely LOVE this one 😭 as a former ER worker I live for this.

“Just ordinary”

Glen Powell x Reader

“So Glen,” the interviewer asks. “Who are you bringing to the London premiere?”

Glen smiles, looking behind the interviewer to where you stand with his publicist behind the stage.

“I’m bringing my girlfriend, Y/N,” he smiles, winking in your direction.

You make a mental note to check how much flights would cost but smile back at him.

“Ooo! What does she do? Is she an actress?”

“She’s actually an ER nurse,” he boasts. “I’m so lucky to have her in my life and to be able to feel so safe with her around me.”

“I bet,” they say. “Having someone there to nurse you to health even if you’re not sick must be so rewarding.”

“It is!” He beams. “I love that she takes care of me and makes sure I stay healthy. It also helps when I get injured on the job.”

“That’s so sweet,” they tell him. “Well, that’s all the time we have today. Make sure you catch Twisters in theaters near you!”

After the interview, Glen walks up to where you’re waiting and interlaces his fingers with yours before pulling you close to kiss you deeply.

“We’re almost done, I just have to do some mini interviews outside and then we can head home.”

You nod, and smile up at him. You knew the drill. After an interview inside, there would be fans all over the place, begging for pictures, as well as other interviewers waiting outside.

You follow him out the building and mentally prepare yourself for the screens and flashing lights of cameras. Next to you, Glen holds your hand tightly—not only making sure you’re next to him, but also safe. Glen hands you off to his mom who’s waiting behind him before walking up to some fans.

You smile at Cyndy. “I don’t know how you do it all the time. It’s so loud.”

She laughs. “Yeah I don’t know either. But to see how happy he gets when they all flock to him is the highlight of it all.”

You smile. You knew exactly what that feeling was like. Seeing Glen in his element and interacting with the people that got him to where he is now, felt amazing to watch.

———

You both follow him down the line of people, chatting to each other until you hear someone to the left say something that makes your blood turn cold.

“Yeah, I don’t see what he sees in her,” a teenage girl says to her friend. “She must be searching for money or something because there’s no way Glen would be with someone so ordinary like her. She’s not even that pretty.”

“Yeah, I agree. She seems like such a golddigger. Like where did she even come from?” Her friend responds.

You stop in your tracks at that, Cyndy’s brows furrow in their direction and she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Don’t listen to them. That’s just jealousy talking,” she whispers in your ear.

You only nod, scared if you spoke, you’d cry. Instead, you and Cyndy walk toward the car that’s meant to drive you all back to Glen’s house and wait for Glen there.

By the time he joins you all, you’re barely speaking and holding it together. On the car ride back to his place, you text your charge nurse, Kathy, and ask her to put you in the schedule for the whole week.

Kathy: are you sure? That’s a lot of hours and you’ll be exhausted by the end of it all.

You: trust me, I need the distraction and the money. I’ll be fine.

Kathy: alright, you’re set up for the whole week.

You sigh to yourself, earning a light nudge and smile from Glen.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You smile up at him and lean onto his shoulder. “Yeah, just got a text that I’ll be working all week.”

“Oh no,” he says. “Can you find a replacement?

“Unfortunately no,” you tell him. “We’ve been so short staffed, they’d barely let me leave for lunch.”

“Hopefully all that overtime means you can come with me to London next week.”

You only smile and nod.

The thing about dating Glen that you never got used to was the way that he’d pay for everything you two did. You knew there was an imbalance when it came to money but never brought it up because he’d always been so happy to pay for everything. But after hearing what those two girls were saying…. Your pride, or something like it, felt like it was wrong to let it continue to happen.

You didn’t want to seem like a gold digger after all.

With this week of twelve hour shifts, you’d be able to afford the ticket, maybe some souvenirs?

Maybe I should text Kathy to set me up for sixteen hour shifts all week.

You text her when you get back to Glen’s place.

———

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you know asking for a week of work plus adding four more hours to your shifts was a mistake.

Glen tried to stay up and wait for you, but he’d be fast asleep in bed by the time you got out of the shower.

On top of not being able to really see him, you yourself were exhausted. Your body becoming so tired, even sitting down was hard because you’d fall asleep. So instead of sitting down during your shift, you’d stand.

At the end of your shift on Wednesday, you could barely keep your eyes open on the drive back home. And when you did get home, you didn’t even bother getting out of your scrubs before collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep.

“This is normal, mom,” you hear Glen say faintly. “She’s working herself to death and I’m just…I’m worried for her.”

The next morning, you rub your eyes when your alarm blares in your ear. Sitting up from the couch, you race to the shower, peeling off your scrubs from the night before, and quickly showering to wake yourself up.

When you step out of the bathroom, you find Glen standing there with a cup of coffee ready for you.

“Good morning, baby,” he says, kissing you.

“Did I wake you?” You ask, taking the cup and sipping.

“No, I’ve been waking up early to make sure you get everything you need for work,” he tells you.

“Thank you,” you smile. You look down at your watch and sigh. “I have to get going.”

“I packed you lunch and extra clothes so that you don’t have to shower when you get home. Maybe you’ll sleep in the bed tonight?” His eyes are hopeful and you can’t help but feel so bad.

He’s doing all of this for you and yet you’re trying to avoid him—to an extent.

“I’ll try to,” you tell him. “I’ve just been so tired to walk up the stairs.”

“Then I’ll set something up for us before you get home,” he tells you. He kisses you before adding, “I’ll see you later.”

———

You’re halfway into your shift when you get the trauma of the day, maybe even the year.

You’re running, trying to grab the necessary supplies you need for the CPR that’s on its way when you suddenly feel the world begin to spin out from under you.

One second you’re stuffing you pockets with extra flushes and vials for bloodwork, the next your vision is blurring and going black.

When you finally wake up, you’re at the hospital still but in a room. The beeping of the monitor next to you grounds you in reality enough look around the room. Glen sits in a chair on the other side of you, worry and fear painted all over his face.

“Glen?” You croak.

“Oh my god,” he says, turning you and grabbing your hand. “Are you feeling okay?”

“For the most part,” you mumble. “What happened?”

“Kathy told me you fainted from exhaustion,” he tells you. “You shouldn’t have been working so many hours so close together. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You’re lucky someone was there to break your fall.”

He sighs, running his hand through his hair before asking, “What were you thinking working so many hours for so long?”

“I don’t know,” you lie.

“Yes you do. Tell me,” he urges.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes before looking at him. “I can’t afford to go to London.”

“I’ll pay for your ticket,” he quickly says.

“Glen, I don’t want you to.” This was going to be hard. “I want to pay for myself.”

“I don’t mind doing it, baby.” He searches your face before adding, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” you answer. You squeeze your eyes shut before opening them and taking his hand in yours again. “I don’t want you to think I’m a gold digger.”

“Why would I think that?”

“Because you pay for everything!” You exclaim. “I don’t think it’s fair that you spend money on me and I can’t do the same for you.”

Glen smiles at you, kissing the inside of your wrist. “Y/N, there’s nothing that makes me happier than paying for everything. If I get to spoil you by taking you to London or paying for our dinners and rent, then that means I’m doing my job. I never want you to feel like you’re freeloading or being a gold digger around me.”

He tilts your head back to face him completely before continuing. “Baby don’t ever feel like that’s what you are because you’re not. I’m so grateful to do it for you. In fact, I love doing it.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Very,” he tells you. “So you can stop with the extra shifts. I already talked to Kathy about giving the rest of the week off.”

Tears prick your eyes as you pull him in for a kiss.

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you more,” Glen says. “But don’t do that again. Please?”

You laugh. “I promise I won’t.”

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

First of all, I love your blog. Thank you so much for your in-depth and well researched replies. Anyway, I always read about Meghan wanting William for herself and I've seen videos of her making googly eyes/trying to flirt with him. Does Meghan really want William or is she just like that with all men. Some say she is now behaving like a woman scorned towards William. What is your take on this? Thanks a lot!

An anon asked me something very similar in a DM when I had asks closed so I’m just going to put in what I said to her since my answer is still the same.

Meghan is the kind of woman who sexualizes her relationships to all men, especially when she wants something, and she definitely wanted things from William - he was the one refuting her and Harry’s claims that she was just like Diana, she wanted him to walk her down the aisle at the wedding, and she wanted Diana’s jewelry, for starters.

So because Meghan sexualizes every transaction and interaction with men, she’s very flirty and over-attentive to every/any man she meets - just look at how flirty she was with the Colombia VP’s husband in the one video, or look at the way she draped herself all over the tour guide when she was like 14 or 15. It’s learned behavior, and (I suspect) from Doria, because she’s not a natural flirt. You can see her calculating what she needs to do to “win” someone’s attention - it’s her choices to wear short or skin-bearing outfits (or to alter her outfits to show more skin, like she did at Trooping 2018), to invade people’s personal spaces with the claws or her overly-touchy hugs, and how she always laser-focuses her attention on one specific person instead of the whole group around her. That’s not natural flirty behavior; it’s calculative. (The most telltale sign of a natural flirt is that they’re flirty, playful, and attentive with everyone around them, not just one specific person or one specific gender.)

And specific to the way she’s treating William — she sees him as the one blocking Harry’s (and therefore her) path back to the BRF. It doesn’t read scorned woman to me; it reads desperate. She’s literally throwing everything and the kitchen sink at William to get him to speak to her or at least acknowledge her. She tried flattery. She tried compassion. She tried using Kate. She tried to provoke him with anger. She tried silence/grey rock William. She tried using William’s kids. She tried using her own kids. She tried using Harry.

[anangelinthepit]

Without You…

Warning ⚠️ - abuse. Please don't read if these topics make you uncomfortable.

************************************************

Part 5

Y/N’s POV

The car ride was silent the rest of the way after that horrific interaction. Little did I know that was only a glimpse of the punishment that was waiting for me at home. When we pulled up to the house, there was a new security gate installed along with some very high-tech cameras. One thing about Noah is if he didn’t have to spend money on it he wouldn’t, and the fact that I cost him a pretty penny just puts me in a deeper hole. I looked over and saw Noah staring directly at me. He must have been keeping his eye on me the entire time and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he didn’t even blink.

I grabbed my purse and got out of the limo with Noah right behind me grabbing my arm.

“Wherever I go, you go. If I can’t be there, Nick or Davis will be. Understand?”

Squeezing my arm to make sure I heard him loud and clear, I shook my head in agreement and tried to wipe my tears away. I couldn’t stop them, it was like a waterfall of pure misery and despair falling from my eyes. He yanked me into the house abd forced me to go up the stairs to our bedroom, as I looked behind me I could see Nick staring at us and Davis trying to get him to unclench his first. I mouthed “It’s okay” in hopes it would bring some comfort. We got to our room and Noah aggressively shoved me in as if he just caught a firefly in a jar. As I stumbled over my feet I heard the door close and lock behind him.

“Noah I understand you are mad at me, but you need to stop grabbing me the way you d-“

Before I knew it, a sharp sting was kissing my cheek causing me to fall back on the bed.

“You listen to me and you listen good. I make the fucking rules around here, you just obey. Understand!”

I looked up at him and held my cheek, if I wasn’t in such a fragile state I would have fought back. Instead, I quietly agreed. I sat there on the bed with even more tears welding up in my eyes. So much for “I’ll never hurt you”

Noah went over and pulled his pack of cigarettes out. He was gonna light one in front of me until the realization hit him.

Letting out a sigh of exhaustion and running his fingers through his hair, he tossed his lighter on the dresser and looked at me

“I’m sorry.” He said looking down

Hm. Like I haven’t heard that one before.

“I know”

“No, I am sorry Ruby. I shouldn’t have done that. I can’t take it back now but I truly am sorry.”

“I understand”

I know this is all bullshit but I don’t want to poke the bear any more than I already have.

“You need to realize that this isn’t a game Ruby, I know you’re more than aware of where our money comes from and what I do for work. I also know that you indeed stand how dangerous my line of work is. Right?”

“Yes”

“Yes? Okay so then you should know that there are people out there who want to hurt you. Pregnant or not they will do what they want. Those men could have done the absolute worse to you Ruby, and wouldn’t have lost sleep over it.”

“Why is that Noah?”

“Why is what?”

“Why do these men want to hurt me and not you?

“Because…”

The hesitation in his tone and voice even confused me. What is it? Why wouldn’t they just hurt Noah directly?

“Noah?”

“Because they know you’re the only good thing left in me in this fucked up world I created.”

There it is. Big scary mafia man does have a heart. Instead of finding the cigarette, Noah grabbed his victory whiskey and took a huge gulp from the bottle. It’s almost like what he’s about to tell me next is gonna end his macho lifestyle.

“You were right Ruby, I knew what I was doing. All those times I cheated, all those times I came home and was cold to you. Baby, I fucked my world and took you down with me. I know you can’t forgive me, but all I’m asking is for you to stay with me and try. Fuck we aren’t perfect babe, but the love we got can withstand anything.”

I looked up at him and was met with sad heartfelt eyes. Why does he have to be so sweet to me now after all the damage he’s done? After all the damage I’ve done. I can never forgive myself and if he found out, well he would forgive me by putting flowers over my grave. We both have messed up in the past, but the decision I made is gonna haunt me forever.

I held my face in my hands, wishing all of this was a dream. Who do I love? Who do I belong to? Are they both just as equally toxic? Where do I go from here? God please help me, my mind is racing, and I feel like I’m gonna pass out.

I felt a warm loving touch on my stomach and Noah's fingertips gently caressing my chin to face him.

“Ruby, I love you so much fucking much. You are the mother of my child and my entire world. We can make this right again. Just please, please don’t ever leave me. Okay? I will make it so you and Theo don’t ever have to worry about being hurt. I swear to you on our marriage. Let me be the man you deserve. Let me be your protector Y/N”

My heart is fucking breaking and my head is spinning like a carousel. The words “my protector” made me break out in a cold sweat all over my body. I've heard them before.

“Y/N I can be your protector.”

But it wasn’t Noah who said it to me, it was Nick. On the lonely night where I confided in him after Noah up and left to go sleep with his whores. My bed and heart were so lonely and Nick filled that void. What have I done?

I could feel myself floating, almost like I was levitating onto a cloud. Something was wrong but I couldn’t speak.

“Ruby?”

The room is getting darker and my thoughts are becoming could

“Baby? What’s wrong.”

“Noah.. help me.”

The last thing I could hear was Noah screaming for Davis and Nick to call an ambulance and my entire world went dark.

My dream was peaceful yet quick. I was floating in the water but could breathe. When I looked up I could see the chaos happening above me but was unbothered because the water was keeping me safe. The ocean kept me safe. What was my dream telling me? Should I unfold the chaos that awaits me or stay safe in the cool dark ocean?

Grogginess lingered in my mind as I began to open my eyes. The smell of strong disinfectant and crisp air filled my nose. Where am I?

“Y/N”

“Am I in Heaven?”

“Angel.”

No, Heaven is not an option for me anymore.

I fully came to and was met with a worried Nick sitting at my bedside.

“Nick? What happened?”

I tried to get up but my head felt like it was full of cement.

“Easy Angel, you passed out. The doctor said it was some type of dizzy spell. He also said your sugar was extremely low. Have you not been eating?” Nick said gently pushing me back down

I looked around and gave Nick a puzzling stare.

“No, I have, it’s just I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately.”

I was going to relax until I realized something. I don’t remember if I fell on my back or my stomach. Sheer panic came over me and I almost threw myself out of the bed to make sure I wasn’t bleeding.

“Oh god! Theo! My baby !”

“Angel relax, please. He’s okay.”

“No what if something happened? How will I know? Nick my baby!”

Nick grabbed my face and tried to get me to steady my breathing. I’ve seen so many horror stories where women suffer a loss even though they can still see and hear the heartbeat.

“Y/N the baby is okay.”

My breathing started to slow down until Nick reminded me of the decision I would have to live with for the rest of my life.

“Our baby is okay.”

I pushed him off of me and tried to erase that beautiful haunting memory.

“Nick. Don’t.” I said raising my hand at him

“Angel I can’t keep pretending, he treats you like absolute garbage and even went as far as flipping a table at you. How long are you going to make me sit by and watch while he abuses you?”

“Nick this was your fucking idea. You’re the one who told me we didn’t need to tell him and that you’ll let him raise the baby as his own. We are two adults who made a decision that is going to bind us for the rest of our lives. If we tell Noah that Theo isn’t his, we aren’t going to see the rest of our lives. Got it?”

“Angel please, I fucking love you. Do you have any idea how hard this is for me? I was doing this for you so he wouldn't hurt you but he still is. Baby we can run away from all of this. I'm one of his trackers so I'll make sure to go where he can't find us.”

“Nick, get away from me,” I said scooching up in my bed.

I pushed him away once again, what the hell is this man thinking? I'm about to be 7 months pregnant, and I already tried the runaway stunt. Look where it fucking got me. It's like he hasn’t been paying attention. I began to feel aggravated that he would even suggest something so dangerous.

“Nick you have to let the both of us go. If you care about my and your baby’s well-being like you say you do, then you'll be the good little henchmen my husband hired and keep your mouth shut. We have to pretend and I'm sorry it has to end like this. I belong to Noah and now so does this baby. This was your fucking idea, so please try to remember that.”

Nick got up and faced away from me. I know my words hurt him but I have to be this way. It’s for the best for all 3 of us.

“As you wish Mrs. Davis.”

“Good, go get my husband and get the fuck out of my sight.”

The tears fell with each word that came out of my mouth. Our eyes met one last time exchanging the words “I love you” Maybe in a perfect world we could be together and have our baby. Relive those beautiful nights where we could lay under the sheets being tangled up in each other embrace. Talking about our future and if fate would allow us to create one together I would give everything to have that but this isn't my world….

Its Noah’s

************************************************

This storybisnstartin gro become my guilty pleasure. Short chapter but enjoy 🩵

Taglist

@reyadawn @bloodylullaby @fadingintothegrey @catsomens @ashdreamsalone @supersquirrel1996 @thisbicc @iluvmewwwww75 @dreamstyles @lma1986 @montgomery-929496 @amelia-acero @aubrey-melinoe

[addicted-to-dc]

Jekyll/Hyde Part 2 - Taskforce 141 x Reader

Tags for those who encouraged me to write this. Thank you!!! @greeniegreengreen @aeilani @poetslastdeath 

Link to Part 1

Content Warnings: Typical CoD violence, ptsd, reader is going to be unhinged (even more so in the next chapters).

The computer does all the work for you nowadays. Honestly, you expected this to be your time to think things over. ‘Meditate’ as Laswell calls it. Rumination sits better on your tongue. How in the world can you ruminate in conditions like these? The overhead lights are buzzing, a high-pitched constant ringing that’s giving you a migraine. It feels like an ice pick was shoved through your eye socket, the cold metal turning warm as it disturbs thousands of nerves.

The seclusion you needed has fucking left the building, leaving you alone with a team of walking dead men. Laswell didn’t tell them why you had so many deaths. One would assume that the common denominator (i.e. YOU) are the reason why families mourn their loved ones. With every step you take you can hear the jingle of all those tags, so many souls gone because you couldn’t stop digging for the truth.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to drag yourself out of your exhaustion. Your efforts only reward you with a sharp pain in your skull. Checking the time, you internally groan. Less than an hour until your dogs are here. Fuck, you miss them.

There’s a flick of a lighter, the scent of leather and wood assaulting your nose. Then tobacco invades your senses. “What’s on your mind?”

Captain Price, the man who started it all. He’s a survivor. He might stand a chance at what’s coming next. It’s been a while since you’ve interacted with a man this intense. He’s a smart one. The cigar erases the mustiness of the room. Smells like home. You can feel your body relax, albeit slightly. Maybe you just need a smoke.

“The only family I have left,” you reply, yanking out your cigarettes. Your only photo lies folded in the nearly empty pack. You flick it to Price, your aim true as it rolls to the edge of the table. “Three dogs. Sir, Bear, and Ruse.”

Ghost shifts slightly in his chair, dark eyes on the photo as soon as Price uncrumples it. “Cerberus?”

You can see recognition flash in Price’s eyes. In all of theirs. At least they don’t try to hide it. Sunshine leans forward, his eyes reevaluating you. “You’re The Huntress.”

It’s not a question. He knows. They all do. Price hands the photo to Mr. Mohawk. You shake your head, “I haven’t been called that in a long time.”

“Fuckin’ unstoppable is what you should be called,” Mr. Mohawk chuckles, looking up from the photo. “I’ve seen yer work. Thorough, precise, efficient, and batshit crazy.”

“They say you’re a sniper hunter,” Ghost states, eyes blazing with intrigue. “That true?”

You nod, your index finger running over the scar on your chin. Mr. Mohawk’s bright ass blue eyes bore into your own. “Why the name change?”

Your muscles tense, feeling the weight of hundreds of hands pulling you down, down, down… Broken nails tear at your flesh, opening old wounds that never fully healed right. The screams ring in your ears, curses that taint your very soul to this day. “A story for another day.”

“Is this your original taskforce?” Price asks, pulling your attention away from his sergeant.

“Yes, it is,” you reply, lighting up your last cigarette. “Picked every single one of them myself. Two Polish battering rams, Maryna and Urszula Kowalski. They were always at each other’s throats, but they were the devil and angel on my shoulder.”

You take a long drag. They were the first ones to die.

The frequent migraines and metal plate in your skull are because of them, cracking your skull open before you could even walk off the transport. Their deaths were too quick, but watching the Semtex burst in the sisters’ faces was cathartic. Liars always fail to earn mercy from you. Traitorous ones at least. You exhale, releasing the tension. They don’t deserve to weigh down your conscience.

“August Lindemann, a German tech genius. Spoiled us with all the newest gadgets on the field.” You chuckle, dark eyes meeting Price’s. “I always said they’d make us lose our edge.”

For all the brains he had, they didn’t look so special splattered across the wall. You fought through the entire base to get to him. Cowering like the leach he was until he was the only one left. It didn’t even take cutting off his precious fingers to find out who organized all of this: General Sheperd. You know this leads deeper into the abyss, merely scratching the surface of this conspiracy.

“The last one is American; best shot I’ve ever seen and an even better medic. Dane Reid was a serious man, but he always kept everyone together.”

His ring lies against your chest, right next to yours. You scratch your right ear, digging your nails into what’s left of your upper cartilage. He was the best shot, but your dogs were loyal to no one except you. Even your husband. Using yourself as a decoy was risky, but Sir, Bear, and Ruse tearing him apart made the sacrifice worth it. And the bullet you put into his heart? Even more so.

You can’t wait to see them again.

“You and the dogs are the only ones left?” Sunshine asks, gently taking the photo from Price. “How did Laswell find you?”

“Wandering the Russian forest with stolen data,” you reply, picking at your broken nail. “She found me and the dogs months later.”

“An’ yer team?” Mr. Mohawk questions. “Wha’ about them?”

“I killed them all,” you answer, putting out the cig. You’ll save it for later, death usually ruins the taste. “They tried to sabotage the op. I only got one name when all of it was said and done, and you want to know who it was?”

You scan over every single one of them. The truth always hurts to tell, but you need them to live. You can’t lose anymore, not when Laswell holds these men to the highest regard. What did she say to them? Oh, yes, you need a team to survive with you. There’s too much death permeating the air. The smell of burnt flesh burns your nose.

“General Herschel Sheperd,” you snarl, the rage of Hyde breaking past Jekyll’s walls. “Laswell says you’re looking for him, and I want my pound of flesh.”

You’re sure they can see the insanity in your eyes, the ferality that consumed you in the forests of Russia and nestled its way into your very soul. Split into two beings, one desperate for peace and the other salivating for revenge. You’re not a Captain anymore. You’re nothing. Just a revenant walking amongst the living until your duty is fulfilled. Peace was never an option for you in life, only in death. You accepted that the day you lost your team, your only family. One gaze bears the most weight.

Your eyes catch Ghost’s. Dark eyes penetrate your soul, reading the scripture of your heart. Loyalty broken, trusted allies and friends betraying old bonds. Killing them. Broken, a living being inhabited by the scraps of its own psyche. Two peas in a fucked-up pod. Your phone vibrates on the table, one singular message popping up on your screen: They’re here.

“Thank fuck,” you mumble, pocketing your phone. “They’re here.” You’re itching to leave, to run to the last semblance of family you have.

Clearly, you’re too easy to read. Price stands, the others following suit. “Let’s go meet them then.”

Sunshine barely has the door open when you slip through, quickly maneuvering through the shitty corporate layout of the building until you reach the side lot. You can see them. Tears threaten to cloud your vision as you see Sir chase Ruse around the grass. Bear lays in the shade. Laswell notices your approach, giving you a small nod. You whistle loudly, their playtime immediately put on halt. It takes a second for the noise to bounce around their brains, immediately whining once it finally clicked. Sir, the eldest German Sheperd, is the first one to make it to you, whining and jumping in your arms. His love is always overwhelming, but it’s welcome.

Sir manages to hold onto your shoulders, forcing you to catch him to regain your balance. Only for Ruse, the younger Shepherd, to knock you to the ground. It startles a laugh out of you, a smile following soon after. God, it’s been too long since you’ve seen them. Bear in all her glory runs up and sits at your feet. Your smart girl. A Rottweiler mix, probably shepherd, but her fur pattern always draws you in. You coo, using whatever body part you can to pet all three of them. “Yeah, I missed you, too.”

You sneak them treats, whispering sweet nothings to each of them as you try to make up for lost time. Six months away from them has been torture. Then again, you thought you’d never see them again. Every op feels like the last.

“Forgive them, it’s been half a year since we’ve seen each other,” you turn to the group, sputtering when Ruse licks into your mouth. “CERBERUS!”

They fall in line perfectly, ears perked and waiting for orders. A hand pops into view, and you take it. Sunshine pulls you up, chuckling at the slobber left behind. He tilts his head, eyes catching something on your chest.

Frowning, you look down. Your rings are exposed. Tearing off the necklace, you shove it into your pocket. You’re allowed to have your secrets.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

[thatsoanjie]

Unspoken costs

Sebastian Sallow x reader

Summary : You start doubting Sebastian's intentions in your friendship.

Word count : 1 124

Notes : Requests are open! I just write these to get the ideas out of my head :)

Read my disclaimer and fair use notice here

The thought crept up on you like a shadow, subtle at first, but growing in size and weight until it consumed nearly every quiet moment you had to yourself. It was one of those thoughts that made your stomach churn, your heart clench, and every instinct scream to push it away. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it lingered, gnawing at you, relentless.

It started with a simple, innocent observation—how often Sebastian would bring up Anne in your conversations. It was natural, you told yourself. Anne was his sister, his world, the person he loved most. Of course, he would talk about her, especially when you had been so deeply involved in their quest to cure her.

But then the doubts began to creep in. What if that was all you were to him? A means to an end? Someone who could help him save Anne, but nothing more?

You began to replay every interaction in your mind, searching for signs, for clues. Every time Sebastian had pulled you into his schemes, every time he had sought you out for help, every time he had looked at you with those intense, desperate eyes—it all seemed to revolve around one thing: Anne. And the more you thought about it, the more it started to hurt.

Were you just a tool to him? A convenient ally who could be discarded once Anne was cured? The idea sent a wave of nausea crashing over you. You cared about Sebastian—more than you had ever cared about anyone. But what if that care, that love, wasn’t mutual? What if you were just another piece in his puzzle, and nothing more?

After one particularly grueling day in the library, these thoughts became unbearable. You had spent hours researching yet another obscure text, and Sebastian had been restless, his frustration bubbling over.

“We’re missing something,” he muttered, his voice strained. “There has to be something more… something you can do.”

You paused, trying to calm the rising tide of doubt, but it felt too familiar, too raw. "Sebastian," you started, your voice shaking, "do you only want me around because I can help you save Anne?"

The question cut through the air, sharp and immediate. He stopped, narrowing his eyes at you, his posture stiffening.

"Are you serious right now?" His tone was incredulous, defensive. “After everything we’ve done, after everything I’ve asked of you, you’re really going to throw that at me? You think you're just some tool?"

Your breath caught in your throat, but you stood your ground. “It feels like that sometimes.”

He scoffed, pacing now, clearly agitated. “You know what, maybe you're just too afraid to see things through. Maybe it’s easier to think I’m using you than to admit you’re scared of what comes next. Coward.”

The word hit you like a blow, your heart hammering in your chest. “How can you say that? After everything we've been through?”

"Because it’s true!” he shot back, his eyes burning with frustration. "You’re brilliant, more capable than anyone I know. Hell, half of the things we’ve accomplished wouldn’t have happened without you. But here you are, too afraid to push yourself further, hiding behind this—this doubt. You think I haven’t noticed?"

The weight of his words settled on you, heavy and stifling. “I’m not hiding. I just need to know… What happens when Anne is cured? Where does that leave us?”

His expression softened, but only for a moment. “Why does it matter?” he asked bitterly. “This isn’t about us, this is about saving her.”

You felt the sting of his words but pressed on. “No, Sebastian. It is about us. I need to know if I’m just a means to an end.”

He stopped, his face hardening as he looked away, the tension thick between you. Then, almost too quietly, he said, “Maybe you want to be a means to an end. Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t want this responsibility.”

His accusation stung, but you didn’t back down. “That’s not fair. I’ve done everything I could.”

“I know!” He finally turned back to you, his voice breaking slightly. “I know you have. And that’s exactly why it frustrates me that you don’t see it. You’re extraordinary. Your talent could change everything, do things I can’t even begin to comprehend. But every time it matters—every time it could really make a difference—you hesitate. And I don’t get it.”

You felt the lump in your throat grow tighter, his words cutting deeper than you had expected. “I’m not like you, Sebastian,” you said quietly. “I can’t just throw myself into it without thinking about what it’ll cost.”

Sebastian was silent for a long moment, his face a mixture of anger and something else—something more complicated. "I don’t want to admit it, but you’re right. You don’t have to be like me, and you don’t owe me this.” His voice softened, but there was still a raw edge to it. “I can’t deny your talent is incredible. It’s—it’s the kind of magic that changes everything, that changes people. And maybe I’ve pushed you because I thought... because I needed you to see it, too. But I get it. I’m not asking you to follow me down the same path.”

You blinked, surprised by his shift in tone, by the way his defenses crumbled just enough for you to see the vulnerability underneath.

“I can’t ask that of you,” he continued, more measured now. “And I respect that. I just… I just wish things were different. That I didn’t need you so badly, and you didn’t feel like I was taking advantage of you.”

There was a painful silence as his words settled in. For the first time, it felt like he was admitting that he’d put too much on you, expected too much without understanding the weight of what he was asking.

“I don’t want to be a coward,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“I don’t think you are,” he said, his gaze finally softening as he looked at you. “I think you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. But I’ll respect your choice. Whatever you decide, I won’t push you.”

For the first time in a long while, you felt something loosen in your chest. His words weren’t perfect—there was still hurt, still unresolved tension—but it was enough. Enough for now.

“Thank you,” you murmured, the air between you still heavy but no longer unbearable.

Sebastian nodded, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze on you. “I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted quietly. “Not because of this. Not because of anything.”

***

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Requests are open. I've been trying to get a fic out every monday at 4pm ET. So far, so good! I do need to branch out from one character fics lol.

[scoobydoodean]

i think even though cas was in there stealing the journal, i think he was trying to legitimately convince dean to come to his side, because he does it the Very next episode (although he doesnt seem to realize that hes being manipulative about it..im not trying to infantilize him i just remember him being confused/surprised when dean points out that crowley gave him the same line)

like i do think theres a bit of double think in how castiel acts and behaves and he doesnt seem to grasp the emotional consequences of his actions, especially in this season.

like he thinks hes saying "if you trust me (please trust me) i can get crowley to release lisa and ben, because you wont be a threat anymore to his plan"

but dean hears "if you want lisa and ben back, you'll have to fall in line"

thats not to say dean is wrong for hearing it like that, but castiel really seems to be struggling with communication because he did this all for dean (in his mind) and once it's all over everything will be fine, lucifer and michael will stay in their cage, and dean and lisa will be safe at home.

but at this point hes killed too many and hurt too many people to turn back so when dean pleads for him to back down hes hearing dean say "im fine with risking the apocalypse again, and i cant trust you to do a plan that you are certain will work" when dean is just worried about another eve slipping through

its just very delightfully complex (imho) i dont really have a conclusion

Cas definitely wanted Dean on his side. He didn't need to wake Dean up or have a conversation with him to get the journal. He chose to wake him up and have that conversation because he desperately wanted Dean not to think badly of him. It's just hilarious that at the same time, he was also like. There to steal shit. When he saw Dean sleeping on that couch, he just couldn't help himself. He wanted to talk to Dean.

Trying to get Dean on his side was important to Cas because he loves Dean and values their friendship, but it was also important to him because Cas had, to some extent, tied his self-image to everyone else's perception of him over the whole season. He lies to all of his friends—Sam, Dean, Bobby, Balthazar, Rachel. He lies to the Winchesters because he wants a place he can come to where someone still recognizes him as the person he used to be and not the person he is becoming. Crowley puts this best:

CROWLEY: The big lie -- the Winchesters still buy it. The good Cas, the righteous Cas. And long as they still believe it, you get to believe it. Well, I got news for you, kitten. A whore is a whore is a whore.

This is a period where Cas was doubting everything and wrestling with moral quandaries. He sees his own actions as monstrous, but also believes that monstrosity is necessary. He and Dean have a conversation about this very early on in 6.06, after their last interaction in 6.03 had Cas causing a child excruciating pain to gain information.

DEAN What happened to you, Cas? You used to be human, or at least like one. CASTIEL I'm at war. Certain... regrettable things are now required of me.

I've talked about how the title of this episode, "You Can't Handle The Truth", shows Cas's hand in that he doesn't believe anybody else can handle the dirty work. He knows it makes him look bad and that's why he lies about it—to protect his image.

The whole of 6.20, he's struggling, but he's doing it alone. To his friends, he presents his actions with surety—telling Dean insistently that Cas knows what he's doing and that there's nothing broken about his plan, while he says privately praying to his father:

Am I doing the right thing? Am I on the right path? You have to tell me. You have to give me…A sign. Give me a sign. Because if you don’t…I’m gonna ju– I’m gonna do whatever I… Whatever I must.

And to himself about working with Crowley:

I asked myself, “what was I doing with this vermin?”

And while betraying Crowley briefly by killing demons Crowley sent after the Winchesters:

For a brief moment…I was me again.

Sam and Dean and Bobby's belief in Cas's goodness (that he was himself) was so important to Cas that he was spying on them all of 6.20 despite his alleged busy schedule just to check in and see what they were thinking about him. And when they did trust him again for that brief moment, he felt relief, but also knew it was all an illusion and felt shame and guilt about it:

Wonders never cease. They trusted me again. But it was just another lie. 

The same discomfort and shame seeps off Cas in 5.17 when Sam and Dean thank him for saving them, while Cas knows Astropos was only after them because of him, and that if they understood the full picture, their feelings about what he'd actually done to "save" them would be very very different. He knows he's receiving praise he doesn't deserve, so the esteem they place on him is hollow.

On the other hand, I do think Cas grasps the emotional consequences of his actions for the most part. That's why he lied the whole season—because he was afraid of the fallout among every single person he knew and even more as the lies stacked and stacked. He knew none of them would agree with what he was doing. But the consequences with Sam and Dean also extend a little deeper than Cas thought they would, and that's what wounds him the absolute most, I think. I don't think Cas expected Sam to question whether Cas intentionally left his soul in The Cage, or for Dean to question whether or not Cas was involved in the plot to kidnap Lisa and Ben in 6.21. He is genuinely and deeply wounded when his care for them is essentially questioned at the very foundation and it leaves him feeling betrayed in his own way.

The thing is, Cas's privately held doubts still do not match the picture he presents to the Winchesters even after he is exposed. Privately, Cas is starting to see the pride and hubris underlying some of his choices:

I wish I could say I was clean of pride at that moment…

I see now that I was prideful. And in all likelihood, I was a fool.

I see now that was arrogance…Hubris 

Privately, Cas reveals that his motives aren't as pure as he presents them to be:

I had no choice. I did it to protect the boys. Or to protect myself. I-I don’t know anymore.

Hiding…Lying…Sweeping away evidence. And my motives used to be so pure.

Crowley had a point, of course. My interest was conflicted. I still considered myself the Winchesters’ guardian.

But to the Winchesters? He says "I did it all for you" and "I did it to protect you. I did it to protect all of you" and "It's not broken". He doesn't let them see his doubts, because he might crumble under them—and because sunk cost fallacy and his own pride won't allow him to accept being questioned even by his closest friends. In other words, he continues to lie, and after the big reveal, Dean can see right through him.

CASTIEL: I'm doing this for you, Dean. I'm doing this because of you. DEAN: Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me.

Cas's pride also comes out in this conversation at night in Bobby's house.

DEAN: I'm not gonna logic you, okay? I'm saying don't...Just 'cause. I'm asking you not to. That's it. Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family -- that you are like a brother to me. So, if I'm asking you not to do something...You got to trust me, man. CASTIEL: Or what?

Dean says he isn't going to logic Cas. Bobby and Sam and Dean already tried that earlier that day, Balthazar will also try later, and it doesn't register. Dean puts all of the technical arguments aside and is trying to say (coupled with his earlier assertions) "I know you think you have to do this, but all of us can see you're going off the deep end and even you know that deep down. Please trust us on this." But Cas's response is "Or what?" He turns it into a battle of wills, then adds, "You can't stop me. You're just a man", which is also a dogwhistle for Dean when dealing with angels, who repeatedly over the course of the show, have called him a monkey, a dog, a pet, and other things to express the idea that he is beneath them as a justification for using and hurting him. It immediately turns them against each other because Cas feels like Dean is basically calling him crazy and is offended by the idea that he doesn’t know what he’s doing (even though he has his own private doubts, because at this point his self-image hinges on turning out to be right). Dean is seeing the angelic sense of superiority come out—something he’s far more familiar with than he’d like to be—something common to the angels who have used and manipulated and threatened him and acted entitled to him… and coupled with all the questions about exactly how involved Cas was in using Dean to get alphas over the course of the season and how he knows Cas used him in “The French Mistake”? It doesn’t paint a pretty picture for Dean.

In addition to their profound bond, I think Dean saying, "Cas, we can fix this!" and Dean being Cas's defender the entirety of 6.20 is also why Cas comes to him at the end of the episode. Dean is the weak link in the chain at the time (that completely changes in the next episode when Lisa and Ben are kidnapped). But Dean is also so devastated about all the faith he had in Cas's honesty being crushed, and he's reliving the demon blood arc in some sense, and he's probably reevaluating what he felt when Cas used him in "The French Mistake" and what exactly was going on in "My Heart Will Go On" and how—when Crowley forced him and Sam into doing his bidding, Cas knew it and he let it happen—he let it happen because he wanted the alphas. Not only did Cas know Crowley was using them—he went to great lengths to cover up his involvement and keep them off Crowley's tail. Cas's speech in the following episode demanding Dean's trust again is not only ill-timed while Dean is worried sick about Lisa and Ben—it's full of lies and half truths and even a little shit slinging that Dean knows isn't fair and that is deeply reminiscent of Sam's speech full of falehoods about trust in 4.21.

On Cas's side, I think you're spot on about his lack of cognizance on how he comes across when he says:

CASTIEL: I came to tell you that I will find Lisa and Ben, and I will bring them back. Stand behind me, the one time I ask.

I don't think Cas meant to suggest that the first statement depends on the second one (we can judge as much when he heals Lisa at the end of the episode) but that's absolutely how it comes across.

[vaggieslefteye]

ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ↳ anonymous asked: HUSK and ALASTOR or angel and valentino?

[arsenicflame]

steddyhands modern au inspired by this post:

(1828 words, themes of kink but nothing explicit, established blackhands & gentlebeard-centric. Happy Pride!)

Stede picks up leatherworking in the wake of his divorce. He's not exactly sure how it ended up being such an important hobby for him, only that he had always admired the intricate designs on his horse's best bridles, and with little else to do with his time, he decides to give it a go.

It's rocky going at first, but he's having fun working with his hands for the first time in his life, and there's a sense of satisfaction in seeing the design come to life as he works. With practice, his skills improve, and he learns how to make things that are truly one of a kind.

He starts off posting his pieces online, as a way to reach fellow enthusiasts, but quickly finds himself with a rather large audience. Stede’s style is unique, and, after many requests from his followers, Lucius encourages him to make some more basic pieces he can sell. It's not about making money for Stede, but another way to meet new people who share his interests- as Lucius keeps telling him, it's sad that his personal assistant is the main person he talks to these days. 

So Stede sets out on a new adventure, and has quite the time designing a new range of patterns for the market. He makes purses, belts, bracelets, and, most importantly, dog collars- all still with his unique designs embossed into them, of course. He rents a booth at his towns monthly craft fair, and very quickly finds himself with a new group of friends in the other regulars- Pete, his usual neighbour, who sells an array of wooden figures he carves, Roach, who runs a stand for his bakery, and Frenchie, who isn't actually a stallholder, but is almost always busking near his friend Wee John’s stand of knitted goods, bringing life to the market even in the pouring rain. There's also Buttons, another regular at the market. Nobody is exactly sure what he does there- he doesn't sell things, or seem to buy anything either, but rain or shine, he's there with the birds.

Stede’s been doing this a few months by the time June rolls around. As he's setting up his stand, he notices that the area is much busier than it’d normally be at this time of morning. Lucius, who got roped into helping run Stede’s stall somewhere down the line (despite his protests that this is not what personal assistant means… But hey, he got a boyfriend out of it, at least), reminds him that there's the parade today, too- not realising that Stede had no clue there was a parade today, and especially not that it was pride. Stede immediately jumps to fretting about the amount of stock he’s brought, and Lucius takes the cue to escape, saying he’ll go and grab them coffee (but really, he's off to flirt with Pete)

Lucius is still missing when Ed stumbles across the little leather stall. Stede’s just ran back to his car to fetch his last boxes of inventory, and by the time he returns, Ed’s already begun to narrow down his choices. Stede greets him, starting to tell him that they're not actually open yet, but before he gets more than a couple of words out, Ed’s exclaiming “You're a Kiwi!!!”

The two of them smile at the shared recognition, and Stede says he’ll make an exception, just for Ed, and asks him what exactly he was interested in. Ed tells him that he's looking for a collar “for his boy”, and points out the particular design he was looking at. It happens to be one of Stede’s favourites from this latest run of work, a fact he mentions to Ed. It leads them into a discussion about Stede’s craft, and Ed’s Izzy, and then everything in between. Ed’s listening intently to the things Stede’s telling him, completely drawn in by the process, and by Stede himself. He watches as Stede stamps Izzy's name into the collar, and Stede even lets him have a go at one of the stamps. 

Lucius reappears sometime in the middle of this- only to immediately retreat again, seeing Stede engrossed with Ed. He sets up camp at Pete's booth opposite, watching this man flirt intensely with his boss- and Stede flirt back just as hard. Does Stede even realise he’s doing it? Lucius had known Stede was gay since before Stede even admitted it to himself, but this is on a whole other level.

The pair stand there so long that Izzy comes to look for Ed- the two of them are manning a float on the parade with their crew, and it's past time for them to get geared up. He's already worked up, frustrated to have been left to set up everything alone, when Ed had just gone to see if he could get them both coffee. So maybe he's a bit of a prick, approaching with a brash “where the fuck have you been, Edward”, to which Stede brings the same energy, giving a bitchy “Ed! Do you know this guy?” Izzy tenses, ready to snap, but then Ed cuts in, excitedly telling Stede that this is “his Izzy!” Which confuses the hell out of Stede. 

Forgetting his earlier attitude, he asks Ed if he “really named his dog after his friend”, only to be met with confusion right back from Ed at where the hell Stede got the idea he had a dog from. Stede gestures at the bag with the collar in it, to which Ed has to tell him, “oh, no, that's for him.” Ed tells Stede that they're here to run a float for their local leather society, and while Stede is certainly shocked by what Ed’s saying, he's not finding himself… uninterested. It's simply that he’s never even considered any of this before, especially not that people would use the things that he made for this, but Ed sounds so enthusiastic about it all. He tells him about how his friends would love to see Stede’s work, about how classic leather gear is always so fucking boring- but not Stede’s stuff, no, Stede’s stuff is “fresh” and “fascinating” and unlike anything Ed’s ever seen before. 

Ed's enthusiasm is incredibly infectious, so when he invites Stede to come back to see their float, he readily agrees. It’s a concept Izzy’s less than enthusiastic about. He doesn’t really want to bring this man who’s dressed like he just walked out of a HOA board meeting to their kinky little corner of the world, but he is having a lot of fun watching Stede squirm, so decides not to raise a protest. He does demand he gets his long-overdue coffee first, though (Stede pays for it- as “compensation for him distracting Ed from his job”, he says, not giving Izzy a second to process before he's tapping his card)

By the time they return to the float, Fang, Ivan & Jim are waiting for them, all already geared up. Stede is stunned silent at the sight for about 5 seconds, before he starts actually looking at the quality of Jim’s harness, and proceeds to go off about the poor quality of the craftsmanship, about how the hardware is tacky and completely the wrong choice with this leather, how his “ten year old daughter could do a better job!!!” 

There's complete silence from the group, until Izzy, of all people, bursts into laughter at Stede’s audacity (and, the fact he was staring at Jim's tits completely unabashedly, like he hadn't even noticed them in the first place). Izzy's laughter sets Ed off as he tells the group about Stede’s misunderstanding- “you didn't say he was a person!” “I mean, he's my dog”- and soon everyone's having a friendly giggle at Stede’s mistake.

It's somewhere in the middle of the retelling that Ed remembers that this whole thing happened because he was buying Izzy a gift. After a moments fumbling, he presents Izzy with the collar-  It's a rich, deep black, embossed with a rolling pattern that resembles waves. It’s made from a firm enough leather to take the tooling, and to remind Izzy that he’s owned while he’s wearing it, yet still soft enough for long term comfort. Izzy's eyes immediately lock on to it, an unreadable expression coming over his face, and Ed turns it; first so he can really see the design and Izzy’s name embossed into it, and then so he can see the small “Ed ♥” on the inside of the collar, right over his swallow tattoo. 

“I did the heart,” Ed says to him softly, intended only for Izzy’s ears. Izzy's eyes flick up to Ed’s, and he raises his chin to give Ed the room to put it on. Ed buckles the collar around his neck almost reverently, a test of the tightness turning into a caress of Izzy's neck. It's a perfect fit.

It's as though something comes over Izzy; so twitchy and abrasive earlier, now silent, staring at Ed with a look akin to worship in his eyes. He obediently tilts his head for a kiss as Ed's fingers move to his chin- It's a sight to behold, and one that has Stede intrigued. He wants to know more about this lifestyle, and these men in particular. He wants to be the one to put that expression on Izzy's face.

The moment breaks as Ed and Izzy pull apart, and Ed calls for the crew to finish the last bits of set up. Izzy shakes himself a little before running off to bark orders again, but even still, there remains a softness to him that wasn't there before. 

Ed turns back to Stede with an apologetic smile, already obvious that he has to get going. Before he can speak, however, Stede jumps in -“My business numbers on the card in the box… I'll be around all day”- Ed’s smile turns more genuine at that, promising to stop by if he gets a moment, and that he’ll send his friend's Stede’s way- “if he wants that kind of business.” Stede says that he does, actually- that he's seen a whole new world already today, and, while he was a little taken aback at first, he can feel the passion Ed and his friends have for this life. If there's one thing that's ever mattered to Stede, it's other people's enthusiasm. Maybe he doesn't completely understand yet, but he would like to try.

One year later, Stede’s back at the market on pride weekend again, far better stocked for the crowds this time around. Lucius is finally free to spend the day flirting with Fang & Pete to his heart's content, now that Stede’s roped his own boyfriends into helping him run the stall- and into modelling the merchandise. Ed loves that part, while Izzy needs a lot more convincing, but the puppy eyes Stede & Ed weaponise against him make a very good argument.

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Can I say one thing?

Why do people have to comment on other people’s way of conducting themselves in a fandom? If there’s an aspect of a fandom that’s you’d rather not see/interact with, then appropriately blacklist, block or do whatever so you don’t see that content.

But DO NOT go to other people’s blogs, comment on their works or their art, or do anything that might ruin their day, undermine their confidence and hard work, or overall make them feel bad.

Yes. This is about oc x canon. Fuck, it’s even about self inserts.

If that’s how someone wishes to spend their time in a fandom because it brings them joy, LET THEM DO IT.

It does not hurt you.

It does not attack you.

You can do something really responsible and NOT INTERACT.

Aka. DON’T LIKE? DON’T READ/LOOK.

It really is that simple of a concept and I have never been more baffled that this is what fandoms have become like.

[a-blip-of-billdip]

this isnt what i usually post on this blog but I'm already sick of all the memes and 'jokes'. I am almost certainly leaving the fandom for good now because of the book of bills release and NO it is not because billford's community has an influx of supporters.

So the worship and romanticization of asylums and other abusive practices for mental health have been steadily gaining traction in recent years, especially with the rise of tiktok's toxicity.

SO many people, especially younger people, regularly talk about how they want lobotomies or how women they don't like should be lobotomized. They get tattoos of lobotomy like it's some quirky fun thing and not one of the most horrific tortures someone can endure.

These same people, ESPECIALLY leftists, will look at anyone they disagree with or don't like and say "get institutionalized, loser" or "et therapy" and it's always in a mocking way. it's always in a policing way.

because these people know that mental wards strip everyone of their freedom and their bodily autonomy. they know these places arent for healing--theyre for silencing.

So the amount of people i see treating bill being institutionalized like a good thing---even the writers and alex himself?

Yeah. Im out ✌🏼

[cinnamon-bunni]

NOT okay right now im thinking abt pokemon leaving scars on their trainers + everyday, domestic problems.....

[munch-mumbles]

see my problem is i need to be more vocal so people can get to know me better and maybe actually want to befriend me but i also need to stop talking so much so i dont irritate people and make them want to avoid me

[peaceblank]

The med school primary application asking if my work and activities are meaningful, like by simply going out of my way to do anything doesn’t have some kind of impact on my life.

[coloursofaparadox]

hnnnnnnnnnnnmmnn its overshare on the internet o clock

[aperrywilliams]

That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

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

A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

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

You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

------------------ 

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。take my time (i’ll spend it all on you) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo sees you in lingerie for the first time. 

contains: f!reader, suggestive almost nsfw (they make out… maybe a bit steamy), 18+ just in case, reader is in lingerie, shy feelings!! gojo down bad!!

a/n: i hc that the first time gojo sees you in lingerie, it’s like seeing you walk down the aisle—he’s a bit sappy like that! i also think that he’d love seeing his lover in pink! idk! it’s just the vibes! (col reader would look cute in pink too i think hehe complements the personality!); takes place later on, around col #4 (wip)

collection masterlist: conversations on love 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace? <- you are here -> +04b (extra). if you're ready (let me) + 04. these traces of love, they outline you

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

There are few things in life that have earned Gojo’s double take: 

A sign for a newly-opened gelato shop with ‘exclusive flavors for the first 30 customers!’ written in fine print; Megumi, back in middle school, being confessed to with a sweetly handcrafted box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day; a small cut, right at the tip of his nose from that time you sparred with him and he let you get too close (or so he says). 

And now you. 

In something pink—

—that if he backtracks just a bit, steps one foot behind the other to glance again at the space left open by the bedroom door, and squints—

He’s certain, 200% sure. 

It’s lingerie. 

He blinks once, twice, rubs at his eyes even as his mind attempts to catch up to whatever it is–you–he just saw. This must be what wires feel when they short circuit. 

You know he’s home, right? You have to, you just told him to rinse the dishes after snacking.

And he was in the middle of doing that—walking across your apartment from couch to kitchen, stopping only to do a double take at the sight of pink in his periphery, at you, once he looked again, clearly. 

Or were you doing this on purpose? Did you want him to see you? 

He gulps, warmth spreading from the tips of his ears down to his neck, lingering. 

There’s only one way to find out, really. 

He walks down the hallway leading to the bedroom, keeping his footsteps light so as to not startle you.

If he’s being honest right now, his mind is full to the point of feeling empty—too many thoughts swirling around the fact that behind this very door, he’s about to find you in pink lingerie. 

And when he takes a deep breath, fingertips pushing on wood very slightly as he calls out, “Bab—“

“S’toru!” you squeal from the other side, panicked as you instantly push it back closed.

So you didn’t do it on purpose. 

“Sorry, give me a minute!” you call out, and he can hear your footsteps from the other side, frantically walking around for what he can assume is you looking for something to cover yourself with. 

But he doesn’t want that. 

Not when he already has the visual of you, pretty in what he suspects is pink lace.

Not when the way you said ‘S’toru’ sounded so much like ‘‘Toru’, your ‘‘Toru’, the way you usually say it pressed against bed sheets, under him, expression blissed out from—

Do you have any idea what that does to him? 

“Are you wearing lingerie?” 

You freeze. Gojo can tell from the other side of the door, and you think, damn it, because he isn’t supposed to know you bought a set, much less see you in it. Not yet. 

You could try to lie, but Gojo always sees through you, through every change in inflection, the way your eyebrow twitches before speaking. 

“Can I come in?” he asks softly, almost hesitantly. 

How can you possibly resist him when he speaks to you like this? Asking permission as if this space you live in isn’t as much his?

You sigh, flustered at being caught this way, “Can you close your eyes first?” 

He follows, laying one hand over his eyes for good measure before knocking on the door. You open it slowly, wood creaking as he steps inside. 

You feel a little naked right now despite how he isn’t even looking your way, opting to face the side opposite from where you’re standing. It’s on purpose, you know, he can tell where you are—Six Eyes and all. 

There’s a smile that he’s hiding, biting his lower lip to stop it from showing. His toes are wiggling from the excitement coursing through him.

You know Gojo will like you in anything; in fact, he’s made it very clear that he prefers you in nothing—but still. Your stomach feels queasy and you can’t get rid of how nervous you’re feeling. 

And you guess, it’s really just because this was meant to be a surprise for him—the design you’ve chosen, how it looks on your body, how it looks to him, especially. You’d ordered the lingerie set months in advance to leave a lot of time for returns, whether it turned out ill-fitting or just unflattering.

You didn’t expect him to catch a glimpse of it now, months before his birthday, before you were even ready. 

“I’m waiting…” he teases, voice sing-song in that way he usually does to annoy you. It always makes you smile though, and it’s an odd form of comforting with how it dulls your jitters right now, just a little bit.

“Okay, you can look.” 

As soon as he turns, you squeeze your eyes shut, hands on your sides as you fiddle with your fingernails. Seeing, knowing his reaction in real time is still nervewracking, regardless of every reassurance you tell yourself—because, what if this is the off-chance that you’re wrong, and he doesn’t like it? 

Or worse: what if he has to pretend he likes it?

You frown a bit—it doesn’t help at all that Gojo isn’t saying anything.

But—

How can he, when there are no words, no adjectives, no possible descriptions to articulate what he’s seeing—what he’s feeling?

If he didn’t die then, in every instance he’s brushed with death: by Toji’s hands, locked up inside that box, in that final moment with Sukuna, nearly halved—

He thinks he might have just died right now. 

Because this? You? In lingerie as pink as all he’s feeling—his cheeks, his nose, flushing down his neck, maybe even his chest if it were exposed. 

It’s heaven. 

You’re a sight. 

While Gojo has certainly seen you in much less, and done with you things much more than just stand with you like this, he’s never seen you in lingerie.

And you’re so pretty. Sexy. All his, he can’t believe it.   

He’s noticing all the little details on it–on you–its shade, almost salmon with a bit of baby pink; its material: sheer net as the base for everything—it’s practically see-through save for the delicate floral lace running across the bra cups and panty front.

The set itself is nice, sure, but he knows he only likes it this much because it’s on you. And he knows he’ll always like anything on you. 

The heat in his stomach is building, spreading, to the single part of him that—

“Is it that bad?” you scrunch your nose, eyes still closed. He looks at you confused, before he realizes: he hasn’t said anything.

He chuckles and you open your eyes, pouting. 

And God, he wishes you didn’t do that. That look on your face—what it does to him.

“I ordered it in advance for your birthday,” you start, pout deepening as you ramble on, “it was supposed to be a surprise, but if you don’t like it, I can still–” 

That’s enough. 

He can’t believe that you actually think he doesn’t like it. 

Gojo steps into your space, close enough to grab you by the waist as his other hand reaches up to slot itself in the area between your ear and your jawline, tilting your head up slightly as he leans in to kiss you. 

It’s rushed at first, almost desperate—hungry, the way he releases his breath only to take you in; your lips, soft in the way he knows them to be, his hand on your waist squeezing. Your fingertips trail to his cheek, almost cupping as his kisses turn deeper, more languid, lips moving against yours slowly, savoring. 

Gojo is a fast learner, and he shows it best in the way he kisses you, as if he’s memorized every way to build that familiar heat within you. You lay your other hand against his chest, gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt as he pulls you closer. 

You bite his lip and suck, just a little bit, the way he likes it, and he moans, lowly, vibrations rippling through your mouth as he holds you steady. He’s hard already; you can feel it pressing against your lower belly. 

And you realize, as a small laugh tears itself away from you, how ridiculous it was for you to even worry. 

You break the kiss, leaning your forehead against his as you keep your noses touching. It’s impossible to tell how Gojo looks, but you have a hunch with how he’s breathing so heavily; the skies in his eyes must be darker, almost gray, turned on by desire—the same one settling deep in your stomach, aching, needy. 

“It’s perfect,” he whispers, lips grazing yours. He traces hearts by your shoulder, something born out of the many times you’ve lain in bed together, playing with the strap of your bra before pulling, a short snap! as he lets go. 

“You like it?” you whisper back, a lilt in your tone, teasing. Your fingers come up to trace his lips and he holds them in place, nipping. 

“Mhm,” he grins, smoothing his hand over the lace details on your bra, his thumb rubbing, “so pretty.” 

He leans in again, a small peck, before asking, “Does this mean I can get my gift now?” 

You laugh, hitting his chest, “It’s not your birthday yet!” 

“Yeah, but what is time anyway?” 

And you know, with the way he’s trailing kisses down your neck, licking and sucking—you’re going to have to find another thing to surprise him with on his birthday. 

.

Later that evening, with your head lying right on his chest, you remember. 

“Oh yeah, the set also came with one of those belt things. Garter, I think? But I wasn’t sure if you’d be into–” 

You’ve never seen Gojo get up from bed faster.

thank you notes: for that anon that asked about whether col reader wears lingerie! + @stellamancer @soumies @crysugu for validating me that pink is in fact col reader's colour ᰔ i also just luv u guys 🥺

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