#(says the one who’s probably too in the middle of nowhere to be able to use them)

[bberry005]

have lots to say about the new episode of the pitt but right now i'm just gonna stick with the fact i think whitaker being the one to find robby was such a good writing choice. had anyone else walked into that room, robby probably never would've gotten up. that could either be because he has too much history with them (langdon, dana, and abbot) or because they probably wouldn't be able to say the right words to say to get him off the floor for whatever reason (mel, javadi, mohan, and santos).

whitaker is the only person around who wouldn't make it personal or awkward. he knows what it means to fail when it is completely out of your control, and most importantly, he doesn't have the world's highest expectations of robby. yeah he respects him, but not because he's worked with robby forever or anything. he respects robby because robby is his attending and is clearly knowledgable, no more and no less. whitaker sees robby, one of the most competent people he knows, on the floor having a breakdown. he also sees the dozens of people outside who need treatment and drags robby back out with him, because like whitaker so plainly puts it, if robby doesn't get back out there, they're fucked. for him, it's that simple, and it wouldn't be that simple for anyone else, and what they needed in that moment was someone who'd robby the hell back out there as fast as possible while still validating his feelings, and that's exactly what whitaker could do.

(whitaker also sees the hospital and medical school and all that in a different light than the other characters. he's a first generation college student from the middle of nowhere, studied theology in undergrad, and doesn't have any family involved in medicine. this isn't as related to this post specifically but it's relevant because it makes his approaches to everything very different, which we often see)

[starshoyo]

SECRETS ★

PAIRING Kita Shinsuke x fem! reader

WARNINGS None

TAGS I love Kita sm, more Kita fics pls, Inarizaki finding out he’s basically married

IN WHICH the Inarizaki volleyball team finds out that their blunt and cold captain has a girlfriend

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒/𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

KITA SHINSUKE WAS a feared man. To outsiders, the Inarizaki men’s volleyball team was full of intimidating people.

Take for example, Miya Atsumu, the setter who had full blown confidence in himself and wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. Or Ojiro Aran, the powerful third year who was one of the top five aces in the whole nation.

Then there was Suna Rintarou, eyes judging and observing, a smile nowhere to be seen. Of course, you couldn’t forget about Miya Osamu, who much like Suna, never smiled.

And to think that they could all be controlled by their captain, Kita Shinsuke, said a lot. The man must’ve been terrifying, and he was.

Kita reminded the team much of a mother, who was kind and generous behind the scenes, but wouldn’t waste a breath in correcting any foul behavior. His eyes of warning became enough for them to listen to them, a chill being sent down their spine.

He was much like a robot, they liked to say. He didn’t say much, and was perfect in every way. He seemed almost emotionless, which is why it was such a big surprise when they found out he had a girlfriend.

I mean, it was only natural that the team didn’t know. You went to a whole different school, and Kita never talked about himself enough for them to even question it.

You had known him since childhood, growing up as neighbors and going to the same school up until high school. There, he had decided to go to Inarizaki, while you would go to a different school that had a better women’s volleyball team.

Unfortunately, your team had lost in the first round of nationals. Fortunately, that meant you were now able to turn your full focus onto your boyfriend, watching his matches and cheering for him.

Inarizaki had been grouped outside of the gym after a win against a school. You were roaming the halls, hoping to get a glance of your uniform. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, especially with both of you being too busy with nationals.

Then, you saw his familiar back facing you, the team huddled around him as they probably were going over their match. You quietly walked behind him, not sure if you should interrupt him or not, but Atsumu, who was facing you, noticed you.

He raised a brow, before clearing his throat. “Uh, Kita-san?” He pointed a finger at you. Kita turned around, and as if they weren’t in the middle of a meeting, he walked towards you. With a smile on his face.

The team watched as he conversed with you, too far to hear. “Did… Kita-san just smile?” Suna murmured, face twisted in confusion. “Who… is that?” Atsumu continued, asking the question all of them were thinking. “Aran, don’t ya know? Yer closest to him.”

He shrugged, shaking his head. “I mean- I’ve never- He’s never mentioned a girlfriend.”

“Maybe a family member?” Osamu mumbled. The theory would quickly be shut down when you leaned into him, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth, before waving and walking away. When Kita turned back towards them, they all whipped their heads in opposite directions.

He walked back, tablet still in his hands. “Sorry.” Kita apologized, before going back to the meeting without addressing the obvious elephant in the room. Thankfully, Atsumu was the type of person who couldn’t read the room.

“Kita-san, ya never told us ya have a girlfriend?” He said loudly in disbelief, as if he’s been betrayed. Kita, still monotonous as ever, stared up at him with blank eyes. “It doesn’t have anything to do volleyball.” He said matter-of-factly, like stating that the grass is green and the sky is blue.

“So she IS yer girlfriend!” Atsumu exclaimed. Kita looked around at the wide, anticipating eyes of his teammates. He was confused why they’re cared so much. Nevertheless, he slowly nodded.

Then chaos erupted.

Aran was the first to complain. “Oh, come on! Kita, we’ve been friends three years, and I never knew?” He whined, arms crossed over his chest. The shorter male flinched, not realizing how that may come off rude. “Kita-san, cold, scary Kita-san… a girlfriend?” Atsumu complained, hands in his hair.

“I mean, it’s not that surprising.” Osamu mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. “She was real pretty.” Suna followed.

Kita crossed his arms over his chest, which was enough to get everybody to shut up. There was silence amongst them for a couple seconds, Kita finally sighed. “We don’t have time to be talking about this. Now focus.” He said.

Though, they didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears were red in embarrassment.

[allthingscons1dered]

As someone who grew up with 5 older brothers, I cannot help but think of how older-brother-coded both Dick Grayson and Jason Todd are.

(A/N: It’s not that I don’t love Tim and Damian also, they just give off more younger brother vibes to me. Also, I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, please don’t hate me if it’s not.)

CW: None, slight cursing.

So I proudly introduce as my first ever post:

Annoying Older Brother!Dick Grayson and Jason Todd Headcannons:

Batfam x gn!reader

Y’all ever come home from school excited for the leftovers that you’ve thought about all day and FIND THEM GONE?!?! Jason ate them. Just to spite you. And he won’t even play dumb about it either. He will admit it so carelessly.

“Did you put your name on it?” He’ll shrug with confidence. He gives no fucks. He needs that caloric intake.

Jason is that sibling who you’ll argue with until you’re blue in the face and then text you 20min later with no explanation, just: “food?”. (Said argument was probably about the leftovers btw).

And you’ll still go get food with him because, well, siblings.

Dick is an older brother in the way he’s not even the tiniest bit nonchalant. He will 100% tell the cringiest stories about you in front of anyone you bring home. Unapologetically.

Or drop you off at school with the most EMBARRASSING song blasting from the speakers. He lives for it.

Another thing about Jason? He will absolutely barge into your room, flex in your mirror, knock shit off of your dresser, throw something at you, and then leave. Completely unprovoked.

He probably even steals the current book you’re reading from your nightstand.

It will return a day later out of nowhere.

Imagine just chilling on the couch, scrolling on your phone and suddenly you’re bombarded with their presence.

“Is that a *boy/girl* you’re texting?” Jason will ask as he looks over your shoulder, knowing damn well it’s not.

But guess what? Denying it would just make it worse.

And of course, Dick would freak out.

Because why would his younger sibling be dating? You’re way too young; practically a baby in his eyes.

In the case that you’re actually talking up your latest crush, Jason would have the following reaction:

“I don’t give a damn who you date,” But give him ten minutes and he’ll hit you with the classic, “so what’s this kid’s name again?” He will be looking them up later.

I think Jason would try to be the brother who acts like he doesn’t care but would most definitely be over your shoulder 24/7 about a lot of things. Dating being one of them.

One time, my brothers shoved me into a box, taped it shut and then set me on the front porch. These two shitheads would do that— or something similar, like hanging you upside down from a grappling hook— and say, “It builds character.”

Ohhhh, that reminds me. You think the two of them are annoying individually. Think of them both TOGETHER.

You try to avoid being around the both of them at any given time, but it’s inevitable.

Like picture yourself coming home after fighting some D-list villain like Condiment King— because of course everyone else was busy— hoping that no one else is back from patrol.

But no! No, no, no. Why would the world ever want you to be so lucky?

In front of the Batcomputer sits Dick and Jason, there to witness your arrival in your mustard-and-mayonnaise-covered suit. Dick will at least attempt to hide the smile behind his hand.

Jason openly laughs his ass off. Tears will be brushed from his eyes as you glare at his shameless reaction.

“Well, I hope you were able to ketchup to him,” Dick cracks with a grin.

The sound of their laughter follows you as you retreat to the locker room, middle finger raised in their direction.

[imastrangeone98]

Homecoming

(A/N: boothill my cyborg my love my life my everything-)

WARNING: fem!reader, SMUT SMUT FRESH OFF THE PLATE MINORS GTFO ILL WHOOP YO BUTTS, probably ooc!boothill but whatever it's fine lmao, his exact birth name isn't known so I didn't put a name for him- if there is one I'll replace it; but I found some X art that called his baby girl "cherry" and I really liked it so I'll use that, and way too much plot as always

"Well, hello there! What'cha lookin' at, sweetie?" You bend down to the little girl's eye level, peeking at where the child's gaze is locked on, then smiling in understanding. "You like those ones? They're moon lilies; they're flowers that are really special!"

"Pe... shal?" the little girl babbles, and you laugh.

"Yes, dear. Special." You pluck one of the flowers, beautiful with light blue petals and golden pollen, and offer it to her. "They mean loyalty, and undying devotion, because they only grow in places they like, and they won't grow anywhere else."

"Loya..." the girl mumbles. You chuckle and pick her up, carefully tucking the flower behind her ear.

"Now, where's your mama? Or your papa? I'm sure they're worried sick about-"

"Cherry! Sweet pea, where ya at?!"

Your ears prick, and the girl giggles and claps at the sound. "Well, I guess we found him."

You maneuver through the crowd until you find the source of the call: a man, tall and lean, with flowing black-and-white hair and piercing gray eyes.

Oh. He's beautiful.

The little girl squeals with delight at the sight of her father, and his head whips towards your direction. He sprints over to you and takes the child in his arms, pressing her close to his chest.

"There ya are, ya little rascal! What'd I tell ya about runnin' off?! Ya had me worried sick!" He kisses her forehead, then looks at you. "Thanks, I would've lost her without ya."

"Of course!" You wave it off, hoping he doesn't notice your hot cheeks. "I will say, she has good taste in flowers! If you'd ever like to buy a bouquet, you should bring her along!"

"Flowers? Oh..." He looks at his daughter, finally noticing the moon lily tucked in her hair. His cheeks flush a bright red. "Aw, man, I'm sorry for the trouble, I can pay for it-"

"Oh, don't worry about it, it's on the house! But I do hope this won't be the last time I see her!" You wave at her, and she giggles.

The man laughs at that. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind." He then stretches out his hand to you. "I'm [???]."

"(Y/N)."

He repeats your name slowly, thoughtfully, then smirks. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, lady."

"I'll be looking forward to it, cowboy."

Your eyes crack open.

Instead of a bustling marketplace, you're in a small shack in the middle of nowhere.

Just a memory.

You rise, body aching with fatigue and heartache, but you force yourself to push it to the side.

There's work to be done. You grab your phone and send a message.

ML: The USB is ready. I'll leave it at the usual place.

BH: ca nt maek it cme her

You stare at the coordinates your contact sent you with a groan.

You don't do face-to-face, too much risk. And the information you collected is time-sensitive; you're not sure if you'll be able to make it to the abandoned planet of Mavorosa in time for it to still be valuable, and your spaceship isn't one meant for such great lengths.

But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: Oswaldo Schneider is likely to make an appearance at the upcoming IPC Centennial Gala, and BH has proven themself capable of terminating that sick bastard.

You know you're not strong enough to do it yourself, but BH is. And anyone capable of taking down the son of a bitch who destroyed your home, your planet, your lover, is worthy of your trust.

So you bite your lip and bear it. You'll work something out.

ML: ok. I'll be there tomorrow @ 18:00, don't be late.

BH: k

You roll your eyes. Never mind.

With a heavy sigh, you carefully take out the picture/ only one you have of him. With your little girl in one arm and the other wrapped around your waist, he stares back at you with a grin. Bright, beautiful, alive.

"Don't worry, darling," you whisper, tracing the lines of his cheek and hair on the photograph. "We're one step closer to our goal. That bastard's a dead man walking now that we got BH on the case. They're good; strong and capable, I know they'll get the job done for us."

You gently press your lips over his image. And for a brief moment, you let yourself pretend that the paper is a good replacement for his callous skin.

"Once everything's done, I'll go over and join you and our girl. We'll be together again, I'm sure."

He smiles eternally at you, and you find yourself smiling back.

"Wish me luck, darling. Help me be strong."

[...]

His little girl adores you.

Each time he comes by the market, the first thing she whines for is to see the flowers. And you always indulge her, lifting her in your arms so you can show her all the pretty little blooms you have in your small cart. You give names to each one, tell her what they mean as though she understands you.

And you laugh. And he finds himself thinking that his little girl is a good judge of character, because he's starting to adore you too.

And it's becoming obvious, since Nick and Gray give him the occasional nab and jab, wondering out loud when they're going to see him get married and give them another grandchild. His siblings too, always cackling and yapping about how he might be the first to hang up his boots and settle down.

He rolls his eyes, but he's not too displeased by the idea. You're soft and sweet, with a kick of spice to match- the thought of settling down with you and Cherry on the farm is surprisingly sweet.

So he leaves Cherry to her loving grandparents and invites you out on a moonlit stroll through the hillside meadow, the one with the perfect view of the blooming moon lilies and the spring lake that reflects the starry night sky.

"I've never been here before," you gasp in awe, eyes aglow as you absorb the scenery. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," he murmurs, gaze fixated on you and the moonlight in your eyes. "You are."

You turn your head, and your eyes meet. "Huh? Did you say something?"

"N- nothin'!" He faces the lake, and hopes you don't notice his red cheeks. "Said nothin'."

You laugh, and god, he melts at the sound. Then you rub the back of your head, and turn away, blushing. "I... I think you're very beautiful too."

His brain short-circuits. "Pretty... you think I'm..." Then he gasps dramatically. "So you did hear that! You sneaky mouse!"

He playfully tackles you, and you both laugh and chortle as you wrestle one another to the ground. But then he opens his eyes and finds himself on top of you, hands intertwined, faces so close he can feel your breath, smell your moon lily scent.

The moonlight bathes you in silver, and god, he wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you senseless, run his callous hands on your soft skin, wrap your plush thighs around his hips and-

"Can I...?" he whispers, weak and wanting. "Just... just a taste, I swear..."

You stare up at him, eyes so big and wide that he swears the moon itself disappeared to light up your gaze, that he doesn't notice you untangling your hands from his until you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Just a taste, cowboy?" you tease. "You don't wanna try... anything else?"

You raise your hips and grind on his pelvis, and he moans and kisses you, hard.

Eager hands dart across skin, tearing off clothes. He runs his hands over your plush tummy, hooks your thighs around his hips and moans when he finally enters you.

He'll never forget this moment. Even if he were to die and be reborn, he'll never forget you. Your pleasured moans as he slides himself inside your tight heat, your teary smile as you open your arms to let him press his chest against yours, your starry eyes so full of love and desire that mirror his own.

You make love for hours, the stars and moon lilies your only witnesses.

"-hill. Boothill."

His eyes crack open.

Instead of a blooming moon lily meadow, he's in the underground repair shop.

Just a memory.

He rises with a groan, mechanical joints creaking from the lack of use. "Done already? I was havin' quite the nice dream."

The mechanic rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I can tell. Anyway, speed upgrades are done; the rest of your body is the same- sensory receptors are good, memory chip still intact, et cetera."

She rambles on and on; he's used to tuning her out at this point. As long as his body is in peak condition, he doesn't need to know what else extra she's stacked on him.

"-and the dick. Make sure to test it out at some point."

He blinks. "What'd ya say?"

She groans. "The dick, Boothill. Make sure to test it."

"What dick are ya talking about? If you're trying to say I'm a piece of shi-"

"I added a dick attachment to your body, dumbass." She points towards his crotch. "I had an extra one that I really need to get rid of, so I'm giving it to you. Use it, rip it up and toss it, I don't care- just get it off my back!"

And with no further explanation, the mechanic practically throws him out the store, slamming the door with extra ferocity. Boothill lies on the ground, blinking a few times in shock, before checking his pants, and lo and behold, there is a silicone dick attachment. Sensory receptors and everything, he hisses when he pokes lightly at it, the wires in his body jittering at the unfamiliar sensation.

Doe eyes and a teary smile flash in the back of his mind.

He suddenly jumps to his feet with a vengeance and slams on the door. "You cheating, deceitful shirt-bag! Take this fudging thing off right now! You hear me, woman?! Take this shirt off right now!"

He's no doubt starting a commotion, a crowd drawing in to witness his rage-induced ranting and raving. But then his phone dings, and he's forced to put a pin in it, taking out the shitty device to hear the alarm: Meeting with ML @ 18:00! Meeting with ML @ 18:00! Be there or be square!

Ah, shit.

He can't miss this meeting, not even to blow a hole right between that shitty mechanic's eyebrows. ML is too valuable to lose, having provided him with incredibly detailed information on Oswaldo Schneider and the IPC time and again. Almost as if they have an agenda against that sick bastard as well.

Well. The enemy of an enemy is a friend, right? He'll take what he can get. And if they end up turning their back, well, he's sure his bullet is faster than their legs.

So he leans to the door, whispers a deadly "I'll be back for you, baby," and dashes to his spaceship to head over to Mavorosa.

And as he's prepping for flight, he looks over at the picture on the dashboard.

It's the only one Boothill has of you. The three of you, together- him holding little Cherry in one arm and your waist in the other, you wrapping your arms around him and your baby girl with your sweet smile and moon lily eyes.

He brushes a metal fingertip over your face.

"Just hang in there, moon lily," he whispers, a clump in his throat. "We're one step closer; ML's got some good intel on the son of a nice lady that destroyed our planet- our home. That destroyed you."

Boothill lost the ability to cry long ago, but the corners of his eyes itch all the same. He gnaws on his lip so hard, drops of blue blood trickle down his chin.

"I swear to you, darlin', I'm gonna get our revenge against that beautiful bench. He'll wish he never set his filthy sights on our home once I'm through with him." He gently picks up the photo and presses his lips to your image. "And then I'll come home. To Cherry, Nick and Gray, my siblings. I'll come home to you. We'll get started on that house we talked about, maybe some runts so Cherry can be a big sister..."

He swallows, then carefully puts the photo back on the dashboard. The lump doesn't disappear, so once the spaceship is cruising through the stars to Mavorosa, he sets it on autopilot and descends into the belly to go to his chest of valuables. He opens it up and delicately takes out the moon lily crown.

The one he was working on for you, a promise of his undying devotion. Before the world exploded in fire and ash. Before the IPC decimated his family, the moon lily meadow... decimated you.

He closes his eyes and raises it to his face. Even preserved, the petals are still soft to the touch, and smell just as lovely.

Just like you.

He won't let your death be in vain. He won't.

The lump in his metal chest morphs into rage.

Boothill opens his eyes.

[...]

If not for the Stellaron, Mavorosa would be a wonderful planet. A once lively city now stands abandoned, its skyscrapers and glass structures being embraced by nature once again.

You stand on the rooftop, mask and voice synthesizer on, fidgeting with the USB, simply observing everything when-

"So this is what you look like. I thought you'd be bigger," a male voice calls behind you.

Your body freezes. That voice... it sounds like...

No. You must be wrong. Maybe you've been so lonely that every male voice just starts to sound like your deceased lover.

"I thought you'd be here earlier," you reply with your warped voice. "Time is precious to you and me both, BH."

"Sorry, had to wrap up some... personal stuff on my end. I'm here now, ain't I?" The oh-so-familiar yet distant voice chuckles. "Well. Business ain't gonna settle itself. Where's the drive?"

"Where's the payment? We both know I don't work free."

He huffs. "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Don't worry, I got your cash. Just fork over the drive, no need to make things difficult, not after everything, yeah? Haven't I earned your trust by now?"

"You realize how difficult face-to-face is? It takes a substantial amount of effort to get this intel, not to mention the possibility of being-" You turn around in your exasperation-

And you drop the USB.

Tall and metal. Flowing black-and-white hair. Piercing gray-and-red eyes. Sharp teeth.

"Y'know, I've always wanted to be a gunslinger, just like Nick," [???] cackled, whipping out his revolver and making dramatic poses with it. "Maybe be one of those boothills of legend."

"I'd rather you not," you murmured as you brushed off some dirt off of his shirt. "Those boothills always died on their feet. I'd rather you not die at all."

He softened, and with a smile, he put down his gun and sidled up to you, bringing you in his embrace, warm and strong. You breathed in his comforting scent and sighed happily.

"Don't you worry about that, hun." He kissed your cheek, then square on your mouth. "I ain't goin' nowhere. You can't get rid of me that easy!"

BH. Boothill.

How could you not notice earlier?

Your mouth dries. You can't move a muscle.

It's him. Mechanical, but very much alive.

"Hey, watch the merchandise!" he hisses, pointing at the fallen USB. "I need that, don't you forget it!"

"How are you..." you weakly gasp, then you grab the USB. "Here. Take it. Forget the money."

You slide it over to him, and he stops it with his foot. But his eyes narrow at you.

"Whaddaya mean, 'How are you,' huh?" He walks towards you, slow and leisurely, like a coyote cornering its helpless prey. "You say that like you're shocked I'm still around. What'd ya do, huh? Sell me off to the IPC?"

"No!" you cry, shocked. "I would never-!"

"Why so jittery, partner? What are you hiding?" He smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "How about a show of trust, huh? You take off that cute little mask of yours, I don't shoot you dead, and we keep our little arrangement goin'. Sound fair?"

You turn around, eyes searching for an escape route.

Aeons above, you need to leave. You can't show him your face. You can't remind him of everything he lost, the people he couldn't save. You can't hurt him any more than you already have. You're afraid. You want to hide. You're selfish. You want to tell him. You're in love.

You want to die. You want the ground to swallow you alive. You want to hole away in your shack and wallow in your grief, descend into a spiral of what-ifs: what if you tried harder to find him? What if you searched the whole IPC ship you snuck on trying to resolve things peacefully until you found him? What if you ran out earlier and tried to bring him with you? What if, what if, what if-

"Now that you got some measure of my grit," he whispers in your ear, suddenly standing behind you, "I'm sure you know how this ends, yeah? C'mon now, take it off."

You pant heavily, head dizzy with his close proximity- god, even with the metal, he still smells the same. "I- I can't-"

"Feelin' shy? Alright, I'll do it for you."

"No! Please, no!" You swat at his hands and try to break free of his iron grip, but he grabs you hard and pulls you against his chest.

He cackles, metallic and bitter. "And here I thought I finally had an ally, but no- you're just like the rest of 'em shirt-bags." He whips out his revolver and raises it to your head. "Take. It. Off. Now."

You want to cry. You don't want to hurt him.

Slowly, with trembling hands, you take off your mask...

And his gun falls to the floor.

Doe eyes. Soft cheeks. Scars. Floral scent.

"What made you wanna be a florist?" he asked you once, helping you water the rainbow roses. "They're pretty and all, don't get me wrong. But don't you want somethin' more exciting?"

"On the contrary, I think they're very exciting," you explained. "They all have their unique personality; some need lots of love and care, and others don't mind if you go missing for a week or two. There's flowers that only stay with you for so long, and there are others that will love you for as long as you'll let them."

He grunted. "Sounds like you'd do just fine without me."

"Oh, please." You put down your watering can and embraced him from behind. And just as planned, he melted at your touch. "Moon lilies love the moon, but they need the sun to grow. And that's exactly what you are to me."

"The moon?"

"The sun."

ML. Moon lily.

It's so obvious, how did he not realize it sooner?

He lets you go. You immediately stumble away from him, hands covering your face in shame.

Boothill has no lungs, yet he feels his chest collapse.

"(Y/N)?" he calls to you, weak and desperate. "Moon lily? That's really you, right?" He reaches out, hand shaking. But when he grazes your shoulder, you hunch further into yourself. "I- I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to scare ya. Please..."

Boothill willingly let go of his humanity. But right here, right now, he wishes he still had his skin.

"Please, darlin'... turn around? Let me see you, please."

You shiver, tears spilling down your cheeks, and slap a hand over your mouth. You can't hurt him, you'll never hurt him. "I can't... I can't see you."

His body wants to collapse. He wants to grab you by your shoulders and kiss you senseless, look at you from head to toe and sing praises to Lan for protecting you and keeping you safe.

But you won't see him. You won't turn around.

"Why?" he whines, like a pleading child. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not the same anymore!" you sob. "I'm not your moon lily anymore! I don't want to remind you of everything you lost! I don't want to hurt you anymore! You don't know the things I've done, the blood I spilled, all to destroy the IPC!" You sink to the floor in despair, echoes of the dead haunting you, swarming your mind. "I can't bear to see you hate me for being alive when everyone else died. I already hate myself so much, hated myself because I couldn't save anyone else! I thought I lost you, but now I realize I didn't search for you at all! I didn't even try to find you, I..."

You cry and sob and scream. You pound the floor with your fists. You pull at your hair, your clothes, your skin, so hard that drops of blood water the cement.

Boothill's eyes itch with tears that will never spill. His chest burns with a profound grief that will never truly be his own.

"You think I don't feel that way about myself?" he finally whispers. Bravely, he takes a step closer to you. "From the moment the bombs fell, I was never the same. I changed too much to be that man you met at the market- hell, I don't even have the body anymore." He sits just behind you, close to touch but not close enough. "The blood I spilled would be enough to fill oceans. But I'm still here. I still remember everything. I still remember you." His hand, feather-light, brushes your arm. You don't pull away. "I thought I lost you. When I went back to the ranch and couldn't find anyone there, I thought you were one of the piles of ashes on the ground." He chokes as he speaks, but he pushes on. "I never hated myself more. I failed to save them; I failed to save you."

You shake your head, but he gently rests his head on your back, right between your shoulder blades. He breathes you in- dust, machine oil, and moon lilies.

You smell so alive.

"How could you think I'd ever hate you," he whimpers, "when there's no one I hate more than myself? No, sweetheart, I could never hate you. I never will. Nothing you do could ever make me hate you. So please, turn around..." He grabs a fistful of your shirt and tugs. "I'm begging you. Let me see your face, please."

Your heart breaks. You couldn't fathom how much he suffered, how lonely he must have felt, the self-loathing that coursed through his wires every time he looked in the mirror.

Just like you.

"Don't hate yourself," you sniffle, rubbing your eyes. "Nothing you do could ever make me hate you either. What happened wasn't your fault; you didn't know what the IPC was going to do until it happened."

He lets out a small huff. "I could easily say the same about you. It wasn't your fault either- neither of us could've known until it was too late."

You exhale shakily. "Do you really mean it? Not hating me?"

Boothill smiles. "Every word."

For a moment, you're afraid. What if he doesn't like what he sees? You know he's not a superficial man, but you're still not the sweet florist he remembers anymore.

You suck in a deep breath. He's not the same man you remember, but he's still your cowboy, your Boothill.

Slowly, you turn around, and...

Oh. His face is just how you remember. His beautiful silky hair, the red targets in his eyes still framed within familiar stormy gray. When you reach out with trembling hands to cup his smooth cheeks, he melts in your touch just how he always did.

And melt he does. He nearly moans at your soft touch, pressing his cheek into your palms to keep your focus on him. He drinks up every detail of your face and commits it to memory- your beautiful moony eyes and the dark circles under them, the faintest hint of a scar curling from the edge of your jawline into your neck, your soft hair that smells of moon lilies.

You're still you, the sweet florist he fell in love with all those years ago. And now you've returned to him, and this time, he'll never let you go.

He sits you on his lap and embraces you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and savoring your scent. You wrap your legs around his waist and make yourself comfortable, admiring his metal body, tracing patterns into the steel.

"I love you," he whispers with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I never stopped loving you, not for one second."

"I'm sorry I didn't look for you," you confess. "But I kept you in my heart every day. Even when we weren't together, you were always a part of me."

"I'm here now." He pulls away to admire you, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he gazes at you with what you could only describe as reverence. "I'm right here with you. I'm not leaving you ever again."

Boothill didn't realize how much his world lacked color until he kisses you, but now he swears he can see every color in the spectrum flash before his eyes. You taste just how he remembers, sweet and salty with your tears. When you pull away for air, he dives back in to reclaim your lips, hooking a hand around your neck to keep you in place.

He won't let you slip from his fingers again. And you clearly feel the same way, because you tangle your hands with his hair and tug him closer, pulling him on top of you.

"Please don't be a dream," you cry in his shoulder, and it damn near breaks his heart. "I don't want to wake up if it is."

"Darlin', those dreams are better off in Penacony; I'm right here. Does this," he kisses your cheek, "or this," he squeezes your ass and relishes in your squeal, "or this..." He grinds into you, and you gasp, squeezing his shoulders with a whimper. And fuck, maybe he was a bit too harsh with that mechanic, he should send her flowers or something, because your face contorted in shock and a hint of reawakened pleasure is a drug he will happily become addicted to. He nibbles on your ear and whispers, "Any of that feel like a dream to you?"

"...No." You stare at him, moon lily eyes abloom with hearts and love and fuck, he wants you, he needs you.

And your eyes are reflected in his, because you're so captivated by how the targets in his gaze morph into blood red hearts that drip with love and devotion. You want to give him everything, bring him under your skin and into your heart so you'll never be separated again.

"I love you." You smile and open your arms for him. "Let's never be apart again."

Boothill's brain short-circuits. He can only remember the minutiae of what happens next- tearing off your clothes, your hands running across his metallic chest, his sensors working in overdrive to let him process your touch, your smell, your taste, as he kisses, nibbles and sucks his way across the canvas of your body to reach your core.

But just as he's about to taste your liquid gold, you tug on his hair. He immediately moves up to your face, nuzzling into your neck to comfort you.

"What's wrong, moon lily? I'll be gentle, I promise," he reassures you, but you bite your lip and shake your head.

"I know. But I don't want that right now; I want you to fuck me."

You spread your legs, once again revealing your soaking pussy to his hungry eyes, and fuck, his mouth goes dry at the exquisite feast before him. And his new dick feels the same way, as the electricity in his body jolts it to life, straining against his pants.

He swallows. "Yeah, baby. I want you too, but I gotta prep ya, or it's gonna hurt."

"Don't care!" you whine, and on Lan's Arrow, you're so cute with your pouting and wailing. "I need you, Hillie, I need it, I need it-!"

Ah, fuck. He can't say no to you, and he won't start now.

So he rips off his pants, and after a few quick pumps of his new cock (yeah, he'll send some flowers to the mechanic as a thank-you), he grabs hold on your hips and thrusts forward.

You shriek at the burning sensation, scrambling for grip on his shoulders as he penetrates deeper and deeper. Fuck, it's been so long since you had sex of any kind, and it shows. You moan loudly, shamelessly, so sensitive to the buttons his cock presses perfectly against your walls, that you cum instantly when he bottoms out, hips meeting yours with a soft thud.

"Fuuudge," Boothill groans, each syllable drawn out in pleasure, "you're so tight, sugar~ I can't even move..."

His brain might just melt from the overload of sensations. Your pussy's so tight, so wet, he's damn sure he near ascended to aeonhood. And your face is so adorable when cumming, he makes sure to engrave every part of it into his neurochip and brush the hair out of your eyes, moving his hips in slow, shallow thrusts, guiding you out of the afterglow.

When you finally blink the stars out of your eyes, you see Boothill hovering above you, rubbing your cheek with hearts in his eyes.

"God, you're so fudgin' gorgeous." He grins, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light, and a shiver of excitement runs down your spine. "Think you got another for me?"

You whine, "Still sensi- AH!"

He immediately sets a vigorous pace, hips slamming against yours in a hypnotic rhythm. He fixates on your breasts, and leans over to take a hard nipple in his mouth to suck and lick and nibble. You squeal and pull on his hair. He bites your skin in retaliation.

"Easy, moon lily," he moans, quickly stifling it with a kiss. "Hold on to me."

He grabs under your arms and lifts you onto his lap. His cock sinks impossibly deeper inside you, the tip nudging at your cervix. With a shriek, you bite his neck to try and ease the discomfort, but it only excites him more. With a guttural groan, he thrusts up into your sopping hole, bouncing you up and down with rough hands to set an even rougher pace.

You're still so sensitive; too much, too fast, and his cock fits so snugly inside you that you're already spiraling towards another release. But you don't want to make that journey alone, you want Boothill beside you.

So you grab his face and devour his mouth, pressing your tongue against his to savor his metallic taste. He moans against your lips, hips stuttering in an effort to keep up with you.

"Wanna make you feel good," you pant heavily. You carefully slide up and down on his thick cock, head thrown back as it hits your sweet spot. "Wanna... wanna cum with you!"

"Y- you are, baby," he groans against your neck, each word punctuated with a deep thrust. "You're makin' me feel so- darn- good-"

You're so close, you can see the faintest glimmer of stars again. Or maybe that was the sparks from his body as it overworks to keep his sensors running, so he can keep feeling you, tasting you, fucking you.

"Hillie," you gasp when the stars start to overwhelm you. "Hillie, I-"

"I know, baby, let go, I'm right with ya." He kisses you, over and over, thrusts sloppy as he chases his high, sensors working overdrive, wires sparking to further push him over the edge. "I'm- fudge, fudge, fudge-!"

He chokes, and you both come undone together, chasing that relentless wave of pleasure side by side. Stars collide and burst in showers of gold and silver, and your strength all but fails you, so you collapse in Boothill's arms, rubbing your cheek on his cool chest.

He catches his breath, letting his sensors rest as he basks in that afterglow. His wires are probably fried after such an intense sensory overload, but he can't bring himself to give a damn. Not when you're sitting so pretty in his arms, eyes just barely able to stay open.

You're so cute when you're sleepy, it's hard to not bite your cheek like he used to do. But tonight, he'll be generous and resist the temptation; you need your rest.

He runs a hand through your hair, and he once again finds himself wishing he still had his skin. But he sets that aside, preferring to be lost in your sleepy smile instead.

"Love you, Hillie," you coo drowsily, head nodding off.

"I love you more, moon lily," he whispers back with a kiss to your forehead.

In a moment, he'll bring you on his spaceship and clean you up, then tuck you in the spare bunk next to his charging port. He'll have to look at that USB you painstakingly put together for him sooner or later.

But for now, right here, he's not going anywhere.

His moon lily came back to him.

Boothill has finally returned home.

[Post-Credit]

"What the actual hell is this..." the mechanic sighs as she stares at the large bouquet of blue flowers.

She wonders if she should toss them out before she notices the card.

Thanks for the added bonus, Doc! - BH & ML

Her eyebrows raise. The handwriting's too nice and legible to be that Galaxy Ranger's, so...

She chuckles. "I figured it'd come in handy sooner or later."

She sets the bouquet on her desk and continues on with her work.

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

A/N: holy shirtballs BOOOTHILL MY LOVE AAAAAAAHSHDHDBSK I LOVE HIM SO MUCH LIKE I NEVER LOVED A CHARACTER BEFORE

...if only he loved me back just the slightest, cuz I lost 50/50 and went hard pity to get him. But I did win his lightcone so I guess it's even...?

[lilbrainbigheartz]

Headcanons of Stu as your boyfriend💗

warning: slight mention of nsfw

-he is so boyfriend material (crying ,sobbing,throwing up)

-be prepared of him wanting your attention 24/7

I imagine him getting out of class and being like: "YAY Y/N time!!"

-Stu is not shy about affection in public. He’ll kiss you on the cheek in the middle of the cafeteria or yell, “That’s my baby!” if someone mentions your name.

-since his love language is physical touch, he won‘t miss out a chance to hug, cuddle and kiss you.

Lots of neck kisses (because he somehow has a thing for necks… *flashback of him creeping behind Randy and Billy eyeing their necks💀*)

He will pull you on his lap. You: "But there‘s enough space for two". Stu:"pffft- space? Who needs that?"

-Stu loves surprising you with little acts of affection, like sneaking up behind you to hug you or spinning you around unexpectedly. “Gotcha! You can’t escape my love, babe.”

-you won‘t be able to escape him.  Don‘t even try. He will do anything for you to give him atleast a hug everyday. "C‘mon just give me- just give me a hug! Babe!! Just give me a hug! Please!" While he suffocates you in his arms💀

-he‘s your biggest cheerleader. Got an answer right in class? Bro claps his hands and cheering for you as if you won an Oscar. "Yep! What my bae said! Everyone take notes!"

-everytime you talk that guy scans your face intently instead of really listening to you (also one of his flaws sometimes) He‘ll just either interrupt you with a kiss or brush your hair out of your face. “You’re so cute, it’s not even fair. How am I supposed to focus when you’re this adorable?”Your reaction depends on what you were telling him.

If you just told him about new date idea that could be fun for the two of you, you probably just laugh it off and demand him to listen now to you.

But if you told him about something you are upset about, he‘ll grimace a bit knowing he messed up-

Stu:"oh- shii, sorry babe! I swear I will listen now- give me a second chance please-"

-I think he will have his sassy moments sometimes. Probably when you guys have some rare small argument You:"Do you ever just stop being too much for just a second?" Stu:"No Y/N, if I did our relationship would be boring. You‘re welcome"

Just an honorable mention lololol-

-I don‘t think he is that jealous once you two are together.  But if he is, he just might say something like: "Oh yeah I know! My babe is that fine". And just stick out his fucking long tongue 😝

-he won‘t shut up about you. Seriously. For his friendgroup (especially Billy) he is ten times worse now. You have been absent in school or couldn‘t come to their hang out because you had something else to do? Sidney:"Y/N told me she was busy with-". Stu:"OH WHAT?! OH MY GOD! This can‘t be happening!" Tatum: "Thanks Sid, now he‘ll whine for the next hour."

-another honorable mention!

When it‘s halloween you two match your costumes <3 ABDVKSDJDJD- I also headcanon him loving xmas!  So imagine him holding up a mistletoe for a kiss everytime he gets the chance to do so! (Maybe or maybe not I will write xmas time headcanons for Stu ?😙)

-since it‘s lonely at his place because of his parents rarely being there (and where ever the f his supposed sister Leslie is) he will randomly stop at your home and crawl into your room through the window at random times like 3 AM. Just be ready for your lovely boyfriend to jump into your bed on top of you to cuddle you out

-he will also tease you with random nicknames. "Hey, Snugglemuffin!” “Stu, where did you even come up with that?” "Talent."

-Stu is Stu. He also can be inappropiate.  He would just go behind you and give you a little scare by grabbing your tits (if female) out of nowhere and just stick his tongue and disappear quickly back to his friendgroup again, leaving you confused. If male or female, he will also give you the most shameless and loudest ass slap making you physically startle 😭 

-or he‘ll make an inappropiate comment in front of everyone. Since it happened so often, you all were able to tell when he was ready to drop one. Stu:"wow hon, your new shirt looks so awesome but better on my flo-" Tatum and Sidney groan, Randy stops him with a "No." And Billy would literally get up and leave while saying "nope not doing that today.“

Or:

*eyes you like some 5 stars dinner meal and then just grins* "You‘re giving me quite the hard time to focus-". You choose if you like his comments or not (well I do- IT WAS JUST A DEMON SRY)

So yeah as I said Stu is just so boyfriend! <3

[flippinpancakes64]

Cullens with a reader who can shapeshift into a dragon?

The Cullens with a Shapeshifter! Reader

Currently playing a Roblox tycoon while writing this to pass time and get more money

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He’s just a little freaked out

Like yeah sure he’s a vampire, but at least he looks human all the time

Don’t get me wrong, he thinks it’s super cool when you shift into a dragon

But he is a little intimidated

He’s not used to being the ‘smaller’ one

Even if he is physically stronger than you

He comes around eventually though

He’s just a little butt hurt

Maybe take him on a couple piggyback rides and he’ll warm up

Alice:

She LOVES it

Thinks it’s the coolest thing ever

However

Because you’re a shapeshifter like the werewolves, she can’t see your future

And that gets on her nerves a little

She makes jokes about how it annoys her, but she’s not actually upset at you

And you don’t stink

So that’s a plus

You’re not immune to dress-up when you’re a dragon though

It just gives her an excuse to make bigger clothes

Jasper:

Jasper loves it for a different reason

I’m pretty sure I remember it being something that the Cullens aren’t attracted to werewolf blood

So that means Jasper wouldn’t be attracted to yours

And that is such a huge relief to him

He’s never been able to be so close to someone who’s not a vampire without worrying about killing them

And again, you don’t stink like the wolves

So this is perfect for him

Rosalie:

She’s not too happy at first

She sees you at first as being a human

And then she sees you on the same level as the wolves

Two species of beings that she hates

But over time she sort of becomes indifferent if that makes sense

Once she gets to know you, that part of you just becomes unimportant

But she will never say no to a ride around the skies <3

Emmett:

He loves it the most

We saw how much he loved training with the wolves

On a basic level, he loves being with creatures that can keep up with him

And he’s so down to see if he can outrun you when you’re flying

Get ready to wrestle with him all the time

And probably lose

He will hype you up to anyone willing to listen

Even if it’s his family who already knows you

“Yeah, my partner’s a dragon… pretty cool stuff.”

Esme:

She’s a bit iffy at first

Blah blah insert really deep connection to the wolves here

She gets over it

Though she is still a bit wary

It’s only natural

But once she gets to know you and starts to trust you a little more, all is well

She loves when you transform out of nowhere as a little joke

Even though she does get on you about ruining her furniture

New rule

No shifting in the house

Carlisle:

The eternal peacemaker

He couldn’t care less what you are

You could be a troll that literally lives under a bridge and he would love you all the same

Of course, he has medical curiosity about you

And he will poke and prod

With permission, of course

But nothing extreme

He pays no mind to your quirks and could never find you weird

After all, he’s a vegetarian vampire

Vampire! Bella:

We all know she has no problems with shapeshifters

Except for Jacob for imprinting on his daughter

But she’s still relatively new to the supernatural world

So a dragon?

She is geeking out

She probably had an Eragon phase in middle school

She wants to go for rides

And she wants to pet your scales

And generally will be annoying about it

But like in a good way

[hqbaby]

two — are you in?

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.8k content. profanity, alcohol consumption, sukuna being gross, drunken shenanigans

In your defense, you’re quite drunk. Not much of a defense, you know, but it still counts for something, right? Why else would you be at this party, standing in front of your ex, with your best friend at your side claiming that he’s now your boyfriend?

That’s right. Sukuna, catching you in a moment of weakness, dragged you with him to a party you had no intentions of going to. Sure, if you were feeling any better, not dealing with a major heartbreak, you’d go to the party with him, no questions asked. But you aren’t feeling better, you are heartbroken, and you don’t want to be here.

But who can say no to Sukuna?

You couldn’t say no to him when he forced you to get dressed—“No, you’re not wearing those pants, they’re hideous. Try this dress.”—you couldn’t say no to him when he pulled you to his car—“No, I do not have a used condom in my backseat.”—you couldn’t say no to him when he offered you a bottle of vodka—“Don’t get all prim and proper on me now.”—and you definitely don’t say no when you get stuck in an awkward encounter with your ex and Sukuna asks, “We were just waiting to get together, right?”

The three of you are in the kitchen. There’s a couple about to do it on the counter beside you, but you pay them no mind. You’re standing by the fridge with a stale beer in your hand and Sukuna is right beside you, his arm draped over his shoulder as he stares down Satoru who you’re pretty sure is going to pop a vein in his forehead.

“Really?” he asks, looking at you and pointedly not looking at Sukuna. “You’re together now?”

It’s Sukuna who answers for you. “Yeah, two weeks going strong.”

If he didn’t have such a death grip on you, you’re sure you would have kicked him in the crotch by now. Alas, there’s nowhere to go, no way to move, not with the way your best friend is clutching you to his side.

Satoru glares at him. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to her.”

When he looks back at you, you can feel Sukuna’s grip get tighter. It’s something like twin telepathy, the way you’re able to decipher what he means just by a simple squeeze. Without even looking at him, you already see the snarl on his face. You can hear him screaming, This is your one chance to make him feel bad. Don’t be an idiot.

The kitchen door opens and you catch a glimpse of the party outside. It’s bedlam out there, that’s why you and Sukuna sequestered yourselves to the kitchen in the first place. Yet, despite all the chaos, you manage to see her.

The girl who, when you walked into the party, was stitched to Satoru’s side. Who had her tongue down his throat. Who he held by the waist, the same way he held you not too long ago.

The door closes, the guy who opened it in the first place probably realizing that the room is in fact not the bathroom, leaving you alone—save for the couple coupling in the corner—with Satoru and Sukuna and the terrible tension that’s managed to descend upon your little anomalous group.

You glance at Sukuna. He looks at you expectantly, an eyebrow raised. Are you going to do it? he asks.

You turn to Satoru. He’s ready to laugh in your friend’s face, already anticipating your denial of this whole charade. I know he’s lying, he says. Like you could ever be with him.

The words fly out of your mouth before you even realize it. It’s like something has taken over your body, an unbearable force, an innate sense of pettiness that you can’t quite control.

Be a big girl, it tells you. Grow up. And pretend to date your friend.

“We’re together,” you say. Your arm finds its way around Sukuna’s middle and you pull him closer to you as you smile. It’s wicked and charming and honestly doesn’t feel like you, but you do it. “Is that a problem?”

You spy the tiniest clench of Satoru’s jaw. Imperceptible to anyone else but you, the girl who has loved him for a whole year and will probably love him for the rest of your life. You almost want to break right then and there and deny what you’ve just said. You don’t know why you said it. It must be the booze. Satoru, please come back.

But you don’t. You’re a lot of things, but you are not weak. And you’re definitely not going to break now. Definitely not over him.

“Yeah,” Sukuna chimes in. You don’t even need to look at him to know that he’s got a satisfied smirk on his face. “Is that a problem, man?”

Satoru gives you one last look, one last chance to take it back, and when you don’t he turns to Sukuna, your apparent boyfriend.

“Nah,” he says. His voice is so cold it startles you. Has he ever sounded this terrifying before? “Goodluck.” Even if he isn’t looking at you, you know that you’re the one he’s talking to. “You’ll need it.”

He leaves the room and you immediately push yourself away from Sukuna.

“What the fuck was that?” you hiss. “Don’t fucking laugh!”

He doubles over, holding up a finger to signal that he needs a minute because, god, this is so ridiculous, isn’t it?

“Your fucking face!” He cackles, turning his finger to point at you now. “You looked so shocked!”

You step forward and bite his finger. Just chomp. It seems like the right thing to do in the moment.

“Kinky.”

You jump away and spit on the ground.

“Why did you do that?” you demand, stepping forward to attack Sukuna. You don’t know if you want to punch him or kick him, but you have to do something. And because you’ve been so lucky tonight, the bottle of vodka that you polished off a few minutes ago, hits you right then and there and you stumble.

Sukuna catches you by the wrist and his laughter only gets louder. “You’re kinda pathetic, you know?”

You push him away and steady yourself on the kitchen counter. “Why’d you tell him that?” you ask, closing your eyes as you try to stay upright. “He’s gonna think I’m stupid.”

“Stupid how?” he prods. “Because you’re dating me?”

Your eyes shoot open and you scowl at him. “I’m not dating you,” you say lowly. “And I never will.”

“Way to make a guy swoon.”

You give into your drunken stupor and sit down on the floor. You try not to think about the fact that it feels sticky beneath your thighs and try harder not to think of the possibility that you’re not sitting in spilled alcohol but something much more vile.

“Hey.” And he’s sitting beside you now. “Sorry, alright? But that guy had some nerve making out with his new bimbo for all the world to see.”

“Don’t call her a bimbo, that’s offensive,” you chide. You fold your legs and pull them to your chest, allowing your head to rest on your knees. “And he’s allowed to do that. It wasn’t his fault.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” you say slowly, “I broke up with him.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“No, I’m not.”

Sukuna chortles. “Good for you, tiger,” he says. “The guy’s dead weight anyway.”

You turn your head over to look at him. “Well, now he probably thinks I broke up with him to be with you.” You slam a fist on his leg, ignoring him when he yelps. “That’s a really terrible reason to break up with someone, dude.”

“You wound me,” he says. “I’m not that bad.”

“You have at least five girls on speed dial for when you wanna get it wet.”

“I have needs. Sue me.”

You groan and shake your head. “What am I gonna do?” you ask. “I just lied to my ex and told him I have a boyfriend that I do not have. How much more pathetic can I be?”

You feel his hand reach over to the top of your head. And he… pats it.

“I guess I have to be your boyfriend then.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Oh, sure, because you’re such boyfriend material.”

He raises a brow. “What?” he asks. “You think I can’t do it?”

It’s your turn to laugh now. “Are you serious? ‘Kuna, you wouldn’t know commitment if it shot you in the face.”

“I resent that,” he tells you. He turns his body towards you and grins. “Come on, how bad could it be?”

“Seriously?” you laugh. “God, it’s fine. I mean, I’ll figure something out. No need to commit to the bit.”

The look he gives you is so earnest, it almost scares you. “I can be your boyfriend,” he tells you firmly. “Let me do this for you.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“I’m not.”

You’re waiting for him to crack, to start laughing at you again, to say, “Did you seriously think I was gonna pretend to be your boyfriend? Grow up, bro!”

You wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And, “You’re not joking.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not,” he tells you. “It’ll be fun! A little experiment. I’m so down, tiger.”

“You,” you point at him, “want to be my pretend boyfriend.”

Without hesitation, “Yes.”

“I don’t get it.”

Sukuna beams at you, touching your hand with his. “We’ll pretend to be together for like a month, so Satoru doesn’t think you’re a loser who can’t move on like he has,” he says, laying out the plan like he’s already thought it over in his head. Screw him for being able to think properly while intoxicated. “Then, we break up. And all the girls who have been avoiding me because they don’t think I’m relationship material will come running and I get my happily-ever-after. It’s a win-win!”

You gape at him. “You’re gonna pretend to date me so you can get more girls?”

He nods enthusiastically. “It’s the perfect plan.”

“You’re a pig,” you tell him. “You’re like the biggest pig ever.”

“That’s no way to talk to your fake boyfriend,” he says. “Plus, I’ll also be abstinent the whole time we’re—” he uses air quotes, “—‘together.’ And you know what they say, sex is always better when you’ve been deprived for a while.”

“I am so telling on you to your mother.”

He nudges your shoulder. “This is a one-time offer, tiger,” he tells you. “So? Are you in?”

You think about the many, many ways this whole situation could go wrong. You think about the fact that Sukuna has no self-control whatsoever. You think about the fact that your friends will not like this plan at all. You think about the fact that you’re still very much heartbroken, unable to put yourself through this much stress right now.

Then, you think about Satoru kissing that girl. You think about your heart splintering into a million pieces. You think about that day, at the steps of the science building, when you realized what you had to do.

Are you in?

“Okay,” you say. “Let’s do it.”

notes. and so it begins ;) on another note, i'm actively ignoring the leaks like i KNOW what's happening but i'm just gonna plead ignorance

[evermorx89]

thoughts about obx4

⚠️ obx4 spoiler alert!!!!!⚠️

hi guys! this is just my personal opinion, don’t hate me pls 😭, english is not my first language btw so if anything is wrong, i’m sorry

first of all, what the fuck they’re thinking??? killing jj? this is so unserious, i mean, he was probably everyone favorites character, he passed his WHOLE LIFE suffering and that was his end? i can’t believed that, it’s a terrible ended for the character that i’m preferred think that this is a joke for the next season.

and then, that ridiculous plot of jj not being luke’s son, he passed the last 20 years getting abused by a guy who even wasn’t he’s real father, this is so inhuman, so fucked up, and after we find out that he’s a genrett, he gets an worse father, who’s worse than luke, a father who abandoned him, and knew it that he was alive and didn’t even care about it, come on pate’s brothers you all are better than this, or maybe not.

now, sarah is pregnant and i really think is cute, BUT have you all seen the life that they all live??? how they will be able to raise a child in the middle of all this? i don’t understand why making her getting pregnant now? they really can’t wait the final season to do that?

thank god that sarah and rafe are finally making peace, that’s what i’m talking about guys! one of the only good thing that i can found in obx4 was them getting their brother and sister relationship again, i’m so happy about this, when they hug we realize that after all happened what rafe really need was his sister love, he almost crying and she forgive him OMG that kill me, i almost cry with him too, because all he need right now is a family love, after all ward did to him, he just needs their sisters, sarah and wheezie, love, and i will never get tired of saying this! he doesn’t need a relationship now, HE NEEDS FAMILY LOVE BECAUSE WARD WAS A TERRIBLE FATHER FIGURE FOR HIM, SARAH AND WHEEZIE!

and my last thought about season four is about rafe and sofia relationship… i’m really sorry guys, i think that they’re very cute, fiona and drew have an amazing chemistry between them and fiona is an AMAZING actress, but i just felt that this relationship wasn’t a real needed right now? come on, on season 2 rafe as an coke addicted, an abuse brother, and did so bad stuff with the pogues and his own sister, that the real thing that he needed was a therapist, help and a redemption arc with his sisters, sarah and wheezie, because i can’t see a better option of making rafe more human that do this and i just feel that his relationship with sofia is so undeveloped, she’s just appear from nowhere in obx3 and was put in the middle of this, just to make rafe more human? and don’t get me wrong, i love them, i don’t them to break up or something, i just don’t like what they’re doing with them, if they have a development relationship maybe i liked them more? but i just can’t had along with them, when we have a jiara development, and jarah development and a cleopope development, because i know that the pate’s brother can do it better with rafe and sofia, they just don’t know what to do with rafe’s character anymore and then they start making mess like this.

[ac1dmeow]

‘i can’t believe i’m doing this’

Jinx x Fem!Reader ᰔᩚ

notes: nsfw, explicit smut, fingering & cunnilingus, swearing, mature & sexual topics, characters are 18, y/n's height is implied to be short (5'0ft), reader is feminine! minors & men dni !!

wc: 5.4k

“You wanna hookup with someone?!”

Only 2 weeks are left of the school year. The days are longer and warmer, and now that it's technically summer the weather is no longer rainy and dreary like it had been in spring. Not that you can complain. It means that you can watch the tree buds and the flowers bloom while your seasonal depression slowly dissipates.

Right now you sit in the school cafeteria during lunchtime. It's not too often you do; the friends you have are usually all over the place and like to go out somewhere to do whatever during the lunch period. However today is one of those days where there is only three of you, and you guys just so happen to be sitting at a table smack-dab in the middle of the cafeteria.

And this gives you three a perfect view of all the different people in your school...

Fatima and Bailey, two of your best girl friends, are sat across from you with bewildered expressions. You had just told them out of the blue that you were thinking about hooking up with someone so that you can lose your virginity before graduation.

You feel embarrassed and start focusing on eating your cafeteria bought garlic fingers. But you’re pulled back into what you already unfortunately started. "Why am I surprised but also not surprised?" Fatima squints her eyes in an odd analyzing sort of way.

On the contrary, Bailey looks excited. "That is big news, Y/n! Do you know who you wanna do?" She leans closer from across the table and reaches her arms out to grab yours tightly. The girl has hooked up with so many random people, you aren’t sure why she does it or if she enjoys it as much as she says she does. But you know that if you’re going to attempt this, going to her for help would be a wise decision.

"Umm.. Well I had a few people in mind. There are a couple of guys that would be down no questions asked..."

"You sound unsure." Bailey observes.

"Um... I just— I think, maybe doing this with a girl would be better.. or nicer..." You whisper, looking around to be sure no one is listening. Fatima looks up from her phone with an eyebrow raised.

"That's probably gonna be way harder to figure out. Girls are picky, they know what they want and they'll make sure they get it. Especially, when looking for a hookup." Fatima explains. You get the feeling that she's just talking about herself. "Plus, there's like barely any girls in this school who regularly hookup."

Bailey turns to her. "Well they don't have to be someone who does regularly. As long as they're open to them then that's all that matters." She shrugs and turns back to you and smiles. "And they have to be hot of course. Someone who knows what they're doing."

"Hm..." you hum, leaning back a bit as you gaze veers off to nowhere in particular.

You wonder what hooking up with someone would even be like. Before starting high school, you hoped that you would meet someone and finally get into you first relationship. And it's not that you think going into college or university as a virgin is bad, you just want to be able to say that you have some experience. You also really want to know what sex is truly like instead of just imagining it in your head.

At that same time, a loud laugh reverberates to your left. You turn around and see a girl with long blue hair and an obnoxiously punk-esk style standing a couple tables away from yours.

She throws a plastic bottle at a boy who's drenched in water. Him and the others there laugh, and she waves them off before walking in your and your friend's direction. You look away and squirm in your seat, hoping the girl won't approach you guys.

Your prayers were ignored though.

"Hey Jinx!" Fatima calls out warmly, Bailey smiles with a wave. Curse you and your whole friend group for being friends with literally everyone.

Jinx momentarily stops behind you to greet the two girls, "Hey Fatima. Nice top." And she's walking away again. But not before punching you shoulder, almost sending you flying against the edge of the table and breaking a couple ribs.

"Jeez." You grumble under you breath as you glares holes into Jinx's back as she walks away. Out of nowhere Fatima sits up straight and her face fills with realization.

"Holy shit. You can hook up Jinx." Your stomach drops to your ass.

"Huh?" "What?" You and Bailey say at the same time. Fatima looks at the two of you like what she said should've been obvious.

"What? She literally hooks up people all the time. With girls. She's exactly what you're looking for, don't try to convince me otherwise."

"She's an asshole to me! Are you forgetting we hate each other?" You protest.

"So what? Then the sex will be better."

Bailey slowly turns her head to look at you who's currently trying to control you breathing. For some reason the idea has your heart beating rather fast. "I heard that she had a pregnancy scare once, and never hooked up with a guy since." Bailey hushes quietly, making you gasp.

"Ew..." You grimace slightly. Jinx with a dude? Highly unlikely. Why does that thought make you a little mad?

"Pft yeah I heard that before." Fatima chuckles.

They veer onto a different topic right until the bell rings signaling the end of lunch. When you sling you bag over your shoulder Fatima goes to stand beside you. "Just think about it. Remember you can ask Mikey to help you sort it out." Her and Bailey send you reassuring smiles and the three of you go your separate ways to your respective classes.

-

A few days pass by and you are sitting in the cafeteria again. You’re on your free period right now, but you’re still rubbing your temples to ease the slowly dissipating headache from the previous math class.

You’ve been thinking about your discussion with the girls ever since it happened. And after deep thought and consideration...

Jinx sits at a table not too far from yours. A couple boys are with her and they seem to be laughing at something on one of their phone screens. Jinx is facing away from you, but you have a good view of her exposed back. Her long blue braids cascade behind and passed her shoulders and you can see the muscles jump whenever she leans farther across the table. You have also noticed that Jinx always seems to sit with her legs spread, and you realizes that that's always been a trait you like on women.

...You’re starting to believe that you might just give in.

But then Mikey comes bounding into the area all happy and gleeful. He looks around and goes to Jinx's table, talking and laughing about god knows what, then approaches another popular dude carrying a basketball.

Minutes pass until Mikey is finally walking up to your table. You swear, this dude knows everyone. He's part of the reason why you even know who anyone is, and why they know you exist.

"What's good, Y/n?" He plops himself down across from you and pulls his own phone out to place it on the table.

You shrug only giving a small smile. "I'm fine."

Mikey notices you look conflicted about something and decides to dig farther. He squints his eyes at you. "Something is on your mind. What is it, tell me?" He waves his hand beckoning you to talk to him.

You puff hair into your cheeks then blow it out. You’re not sure you should bring up the topic from before. You’re afraid he'll have something negative to say.

What if she has a girlfriend— or worse, a boyfriend that you don't know about?!?!

"I was talking to Fatima and Bailey a couple days ago about... who the right people to hook up with would be." You start. Mikey hums and nods. You just stare at him hoping he'll get the hint.

"Soo you wanna hook up with someone?" Thank god.

"Yes." You sigh. "And we came to the conclusion that—Jinx," you choke, "could be a good person. Or whatever." You pause. "Look I wanted to choose a girl instead of a guy because if I'm gonna hook up with some rando, I want it to at least be enjoyable and not super uncomfortable..." You don't want to bear the pain of having your cherry popped by some impatient horny dude.

Mikey just looks at you, seemingly processing the information and thinking about it.

"Well, with Jinx it's a 50/50. It depends on her mood. She doesn't get into details about the shit she does, but with you... Ehhh she'd probably be a bit rough." He explains. Why he knows this information, you don't wanna know.

And you guess what he meant by that is how you and Jinx aren't on the best of terms, and that if it came down to it she'd probably be tempted to strangle you to death in the middle of it or something...

"Okay.."

"I can go ask her what her type is. Find out if she likes ass or tits." He holds his hands out as if weighing two options. "Wait wait. You know how she fucks depending on her mood, but you don't know what her type is?" You say a little too loudly in the quiet cafeteria. Jinx glances behind her at your table.

Mikey shrugs his shoulders now looking like he's being accused. "Listen, I don't go askin' her what she likes and dislikes, I don't care. She tells me what she tells me on her own. Now do you want my help or nah?"

You groan and lean back, fingers clutching at the edge of the table. You think about it to yourself one last time.

You’d be shocked to find out if Jinx is actually open to hooking up with you. You yourself aren't an eye sore, many people have tried hitting you up both online and in person. But you and Jinx's relationship have always been a bit rocky seeing as you just never got along due to your differences and.. lack of tolerance. So you’re not sure if Jinx would be able to ignore that for once just to spend a little while fucking... Oh jeez.

You glance past Mikey at Jinx's figure once more and sigh. You play with the rings on your fingers, "Fine, go." You wave him off curtly. He gets up and leaves.

Mikey, please don't make this obvious. You think to yourself as you watch him casually sit himself down beside Jinx and dap her up.

You squirm in your seat and distract yourself with your phone when the two seem to fall into conversation. You doesn't expect Mikey to come back only minutes later.

"That was quick." "Yeah. So, she said she leans more towards tits but ass is good too." "Did you find out her type?" "Ehh, she didn't really say anything specific. So, I think you're good."

He gives you a thumbs up.

You breathe out a sigh. So, you guess that you’ll just make up your mind from here and find out if Jinx is game or not. You tap your long nails against the flat surface before finalizing, "Okay. I'm down."

Mikey smiles at you approvingly. "Alright~ I'll ask her at lunch."

-

The sun had gone down. The street lamps seep in through the sheers covering the windows. You sit quite still on the edge of your bed, knees pulled up to your chin as you stare down at the floor ahead of you.

Earlier that day after lunch, Mikey had found you looking like he was in an oddly good mood. Turns out Jinx said yes and now you’re to expect the girl to message you at some point.

Why? Why did Jinx agree? Could this be a set up, or a joke to her? Will Jinx meet you somewhere and just make fun of you the whole time until you leave feeling humiliated with yourself? You know Mikey would never do that to you, but Jinx...

You bite your lip, your gloss shining in the soft glow of the pink LED lights stuck to your walls. They're always able to put you in a good mood, paired with some music playing softly from your speaker. At the moment they're struggling to do so.

Right as soon as you huff and fall backwards onto your mattress, you get a notification from Snapchat. Your heart leaps and you slowly lift the screen up to your face. And what do you know, it's none other than a message from Jinx.

You tap the screen and open it...

Jinx: so me, huh?

Y/n: oh don't get so cocky.

Jinx: isn't that what u wanted??? 😹

Y/n: don't start pissing me off now.

Jinx: jeez louise nobody can joke with ya 😒

Y/n: anybody but you.

Jinx: we'll see abt that

Well... this is magnificent. This is actually happening. You’re going to fuck Jinx. Or the other way around— Both perhaps? You’re confident in yourself, you always have been. You may not have firsthand experience but you knows the basics.

Now you have to prepare yourself. At this point there's practically a week left of classes, so you’re aware this is going to happen soon. You only hopes Jinx won't be too unpredictable and give you whip lash with whatever plans she comes up with.

The when and wheres have you on edge already. You try to look at the bright side, and all you can come up with is the fact that at least Jinx isn't a stranger...

-

The car ride is deathly silent for nearly the whole time. Save for a couple of questions made in a lame attempt at small talk.

You have no idea where Jinx is taking you two. She had said a while ago that there is a couple of places that people go to hookup. You can guess you have no idea what these places are, or what they look like. Or if it's even safe or far enough out of public's eye.

You feel a need to act a certain way in hopes of not coming off too boring or unemotional. You cross you legs and rest your chin on your fist, staring out of the window and at the passing trees. Only sparing the blue haired girl a few glances. The girl in question stares straight forward, left hand clutching the steering wheel and her right arm resting on the middle storage compartment cushion.

You wonder if Jinx is high and that's why she agreed. But this had been planned for a week now. Oh how you wish you hadn't suggested the girl to your friends.

You're growing increasingly nervous and scared about how it will go. How Jinx will treat you. Or if you will embarrass yourself in front of her. It's embarrassing enough knowing that Jinx now knows that you're a fucking virgin. You can feel your dignity slowly draining like a leak while coming to terms with the fact that you're quite literally giving your virginity away to your enemy.

The only positive thing your can tell yourself is that at least she's better than a near stranger.

"What'd you tell your parents as a cover up?" Jinx's raspy voice cuts through the soft rumble of the car. Your look over at her.

"Or are you so much of a goody-goody that you told them what you're doing?" Jinx turns her head and a smirk spreads across her face as she looks you seated beside her; sitting almost poshly in a way that makes her want to roll her eyes and laugh.

You glower at her even after she's turned away. "Obviously I told them I'm hanging out with a friend. What else would I have said?" You mumble the last part as you look away to stare out of the window once more. You're expecting a retort but shockingly one doesn't come.

You've driven out of the main city and have now been driving through woodsy areas for the past almost 10 minutes. And although the nice warm sunny weather makes up for it, you're starting to get antsy.

"Are we almost there?" You mumble loud enough for Jinx to hear as you sit up in your seat. Fingers now fidgeting in your lap.

"Getting excited are you?" You hear Jinx tease. You don't even bother sparing her a glance. "Shut up, that's not what I meant." Truly, you just want to get this over with.

Jinx let's out a hum as she turns onto a rocky road. Dust wafts up past the windows and soon she pulls into a small-ish secluded parking lot behind an old building. It's shaded by large trees, and vines slither up the cracking and chipping brick building. Only slivers of sunlight manage to peak through the leafy branches above them.

If it were under different circumstances, you would quite like this spot. However you can't lie that you aren't apposed to it. In fact you're feeling kind of—

"We're here." Jinx's voice cuts through your thoughts for a second time today. You had barely noticed when the girl had stopped the car and sat there looking at you for a moment.

You stop your inspecting and slowly turn to face the other girl while you nod your head. "It's nice."

Jinx takes a deep breath and sighs, her hand still resting on the wheel as she looks forward. She looks like she's fighting to find words to say. She scrunches her face up for a moment and then it's back to neutral. You're just watching her.

All of a sudden Jinx is opening the door and closing it after she steps out. You watch her walk to the back door and open it; she leans in and fiddles with something until the back seats slide 20 or so inches backwards.

Oh. She's giving us more room...

You feel your stomach flip. You turn back around burying your face in your hands, whispering to yourself, "I can't believe I'm doing this."

You unbuckle yourself with trembling hands and let yourself out of the passengers seat to go meet the girl waiting for you. Who's now found herself a spot and began fiddling with something on the floor.

You open the door and ungracefully sit yourself down, shutting the door harder than intended.

"Careful, would ya?" Jinx sits up and frowns. "I pay for this thing." You curl your lip and roll your eyes while looking away, mumbling a half assed "sorry."

Jinx shuffles a bit and sniffles before facing you and giving her full attention. Her expression gives away that she's analyzing you. Now you feel like a freak.

"Soo, how much experience do you have?" Jinx casually asks. You open your mouth to reply but nothing comes out.

God how can people do this? And like it's nothing? How is she so chill about it?

"Um.." You shrug. "I know how to kiss." You timidly meet Jinx's eyes which were unknowingly staring right into yours.

"That's better than nothin'." The bluenette says. Her eyes rake up your body until she meets your eyes again. She scoots closer until your knees are touching and she reaches out to grab your arms; your hands previously fidgeting in your lap.

"Mind if I kiss you?" Jinx's rough teasing voice is so close to your ear. You involuntarily take a breath through your parted lips. The lips that Jinx is gazing at every few seconds before looking into your eyes.

You look down at Jinx's lips. They're shut, but still plump and soft and shining with what looks to be lip-chap. You think you can smell cherry cola. How typical.

But you really don't want to keep Jinx waiting. Only a couple of seconds have passed but it feels like it's been 5 minutes already. Your jaw clenches; eyes quickly flicker up to Jinx's making momentary eye contact before going back down to her lips and closing the gap.

Jinx is slightly taken aback but she's quick to reciprocate. Her hands move to rest on your bare thighs, fingers gently caressing the supple skin. You feel your breath catch in your throat. One of your hands timidly reach up to Jinx's toned arm, slowly gliding up her bicep until it's resting on her shoulder.

You two separate for a second to catch your breaths at the same time Jinx's sneaky hands begin sliding farther up your thighs. You let out a hot breath against Jinx's lips, who lets out a breathy chuckle and presses her lips back against yours.

Jinx's tongue slides against your bottom lip. You gladly grant her entrance and the bluenette wastes no time slipping it inside of your mouth. You didn't really lie that much when you said you knew how to kiss. You have a general idea. You only have minimal experience with it...

You tentatively stick your own tongue out to glide it against Jinx's. She responds by pressing hers harder against yours and pulling away until there's a line of saliva connecting between your lips.

The kiss then turns into a full out make out session. Jinx's hands clutch tightly at your waist, pulling you closer while you cup her face. You feel Jinx keep tugging on you and pulling you closer, and you get the signal to shuffle around a bit and swing a leg over her thighs, now straddling her.

Now this is starting to feel super intimate. And the fact that you're is doing this with Jinx... You almost can't believe it.

But you also can't complain. Because Jinx knows exactly what she's doing; her hands sneak under the hem of your shirt and glide up the smooth skin of your back, making you involuntarily arch into her while goosebumps rise across the expanse of your back. Before gliding all the way down until her hands cup your ass and give a firm squeeze.

You let out an involuntary hum. Jinx pulls away to place a kiss onto your jaw, and quickly starts trailing her lips down your neck.

You let your eyes flutter shut. You try desperately to let herself relax, for you can still feel the tension in your body and you're sure Jinx can sense it too when she pulls her face away and peers up at you with a quizzical look.

"You needa relax, toots. 'Course, I can help ya with that." She starts moving you over sideways, making you momentarily confused before coming to the realization that she's trying to lay you guys down. Oh gosh.

Jinx pushes you down onto your back and maneuvers herself between your legs, her hand reaching down to wrap one around her waist. She leans down and places a deep passionate kiss onto your lips, nearly knocking the air out of you.

"Breath." Jinx murmurs and places her lips back onto your neck, right below your ear. And that sends a bolt of arousal right down to your core. You take Jinx's advice and take a deep breath, then exhale into the air that has become increasingly hotter in the tiny space.

Your hand reaches up to rest in Jinx's hair, lightly tugging on the blue strands, pulling a hum out of her. Her low voice so close to your ear uprises the sensation that your whole body is tingling and vibrating. You're only just getting started and you've already began to turn into putty under the girl's touch.

Dark marks have began to form on the supple skin of your neck thanks to Jinx. It stings just a tad, but you don't have much time to think about that because Jinx is tenderly kissing your cheek and then your lips again. However This time much more greedy than before, teeth clashing and saliva smearing over your mouths and chins.

Jinx moans softly into your mouth as she gets intoxicated by your scent, letting her hands roam your body. "Fuck, your perfume, it tastes nice." Jinx mumbles, biting your bottom lip. That makes you chuckle, "It 'tastes nice'? I reckon if you were to taste perfume it would taste pretty bad."

"Yeah well, it actually tastes pretty good." She pulls you back into a kiss, slipping her tongue into your mouth. "You taste so sweet..." She mumbles softly into the kiss.

She rests her forehead against yours for a short moment. Then pulls back and flitters her eyes across your face, taking in every feature and detail. Her hand starts to travel down your side slowly, testing the waters. Nimble fingers dance over the inside of your upper thigh; your hands fist at the back of her shirt in growing anticipation.

And finally, Jinx's fingers touch the place you had been wanting her to so badly. She presses against your clothed clit earning a short moan from you. She gives the most sexiest smile and moves downward, places a kiss below your bellybutton, then starts pulling down your skirt and panties.

You lift your hips to help, and once they're slid passed your ankles and tossed somewhere at the front seats she wastes no time kissing down your thighs.

Jinx hooks your legs over her shoulders and you hold your breath. The closer she gets the stronger the throbbing ache grows. Your eyes stay trained on her, who looks up at you for a faction of a second before licking a stripe up your folds.

There is no holding back your gasp. You're not sure what you were expecting. It felt warm and wet, but.. soft? "You taste sweet, who woulda thought?" Jinx rasps. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. You forget what she even said though once her tongue splays against your flowery folds again.

Jinx's tongue feels so good against you, working you up as she swirls her tongue around your clit. Forcing your hand to shoot down and bury in her blue hair.

Jinx peers up at you for a moment, checking in to see how your taking it, and she smirks when she sees your head thrown back and your plump lips parted as you let out huffs and soft whimpers.

This feels way better than masturbating. You assume it must be because someone else is doing it for you; you can't predict what Jinx will do next or when she'll change the pace. Or when she'll twist and hook her fingers just the right way to hit that sweet spot inside of you.

That almost makes you jolt out of your skin. That was very unexpected... then you think that maybe it actually was. You don't complain though. Not when the added sensation has you tingling from the souls of your feet to the top of your head. By this point you've pretty much stopped caring about who is actually fucking you right now.

"Oh fuck~ right there." Your hand fists in her hair, the other moving around to anchor onto anything in reach. Jinx hums into your wetness, sending the vibrations tumbling through you and bubbling your brain. She pulls away for a moment, using just her fingers to please you as she praises. "You're doing so well, babe."

That makes your skin flush and the sweat that you've been ignoring before, forms as a thin sticky sheen over your body. Your hips move with her fingers, chasing your high that has begun to form as a coil deep in your abdomen.

Your thighs tighten around Jinx's head. Even though she loves to be smothered by a girl, right now she wants all the room and access she can get. You whine when her fingers leave you to spread your legs wider again, making you lose the delicious friction you were getting. Jinx chuckles. "Patience baby, I'll get you there."

Instead of going back inside, Jinx decides to play with your clit instead. Her thumb rubs circles over the sensitive nub, perfectly lubricated by her saliva and your juices. You sigh. "F-faster please. Feels s'good." Your words are slurred, mind hazy as the pleasure pools in your core. But you need more.

And that's what Jinx gives you. As if reading your mind, she plunges back inside of you without warning and curls her fingers, causing a lewd squelch to emit from your pussy. "Oh fuck, right there! Please don't stop!"

You beg and cry, tears forming in your eyes, both hands now on Jinx's head as you push her face deeper against you. You can hardly catch your breath with the way Jinx is making you feel. Your legs are quivering and starting to feel boneless, Jinx has to hold them up a bit when they start to give out. Not that that would've been much of a problem anyway. The feeling of her strong hands gripping firmly onto your hip and thigh only fuels the coil that is so close to snapping.

"C'mon Y/n, you can do it." She mutters into your pussy, puffy folds spread wide for her as her glazed eyes go back and forth between her fingers drilling into you, and the way your head lawls back as you tremble beneath her. She could watch you for days and never get bored. You look absolutely stunning to her.

Your pathetic attempts at holding back your loud moans are pointless now. Jinx’s words have you teetering over the edge, encouraging you. The blue haired girl’s tongue dances over your clit again, and that action is what finally gets the job done. The coil low in your stomach snaps, and all you see for a few seconds is white.

You’re not even aware of how loud you get. You just know that nothing has ever felt this good in your life. It’s almost otherworldly. Your mind and body in pure bliss as Jinx fucks you through your orgasm, gummy walls pulsating around her fingers. Her mouth slurping up every drop of your sweet juices.

As you come down from your high she’s still tonging at you, cleaning you up before pulling away and placing a kiss to your inner thigh. She places a few more up your belly before she’s hovering above you again, and you now have a full view of her face.

It’s slightly comical, you can’t help but giggle when you push some of her hair away behind her ears. She’s about to kiss you when she notices and frowns.

“You got some stuff on your face.” Her cheeks, nose and chin look like they just got splashed with water. “Ah.” Jinx smiles and wipes her face with the back of her hand. Then finally she kisses you. You can taste yourself on her lips, and it’s kinda odd… Oddly arousing.

Your arms wrap around her neck, feeling yourself melt into the kiss. You want to feel her closer, resting against you. Not in a sexual way, but simply just to feel her. Damn, does this usually happen after sex?

Jinx hums and pulls away, her thumb idly rubbing circles on your side. “You took it better than I expected.” Hah, there’s the Jinx you know. You pout at her teasing smirk. “Do we really need to start something right now?”

Jinx’s low raspy laugh thrums through you when she sits up and pulls you with her. She helps you seek out your clothes, checks in on you when you when you guys get ready to leave, and the drive back to your house (which will actually be the end of your street), is comfortingly quiet.

The car pulls over to the side of the road. While you gather your things Jinx clears her throat. “All jokes aside I had fun toots.” You turn your head to look at her. She’s staring at you with a hint of a smile, her blue eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them before. You return the smile with a small nod.

“I did too.” You open the door and step out, waving at her before shutting it. You see her wave back before driving off down the street until she’s out of sight.

While you slowly walk down the sidewalk back home, you realize that this has probably changed things. You like to believe for the better.

But holy shit, you just slept with Jinx.

[itsthestutterforme]

Copy That (Jack Reacher x ex!wife!reader)

Summary: Much against his preference, he gave you a call and asked for your help. When a hit was hired to take you out, he deeply regrets getting you involved.

Notes: GIF is not mine, this is not a beta’d read, protective Reacher, soft Reacher, reader is black, technically this is a drabble but there will be more drabble with the same characters

—

“Who’s able to hack into a system with this much encryption?” Rocoe asks, linking her arms over her head as she leaned back into her chair.

“Let me see,” Reacher turns the monitor to face him. There’s a black screen with a singular white box that asks for a password.

Obviously it’s more than a password. They probably beefed up their cybersecurity when he noticed someone getting too close to their operation, Reacher thought to himself.

“Finlay, do you have any friends in cybersecurity security that we can trust?” Roscoe asks.

“Negative,” Reacher knew exactly the person for the job. He hadn’t spoken to you in years, and he didn’t want the first time he contacted you to be when he needed something.

But he didn’t have any other choice.

You wanted out of field work two years after your operations team disbanded. In that way, you were opposite of Neagley, your best friend.

You liked being in the comfort of your own office, free to do anything you’d like when waiting for the decryption to crack.

Life with you was domesticated. Life with you was peaceful. A level of peace he wasn’t sure he would feel again, even if he went back to his favorite home town growing up.

“Reacher?” Roscoe asks, touching her forearm to bring him out of his thoughts. “Where’d you go?” “Nowhere, I’m right here. I know someone,” Reacher finally says, pulling out his burner phone.

“Really? You have friends?” Finlay jabs, earning a glare from Reacher. He dialed your number and put the phone on speaker.

You were in the middle of doing a headstand lotus on your yoga mat when you heard your phone vibrate.

It was from an unsaved number. There was two people that would call from unsaved number: Neagley or Reacher.

You answered the phone and moved across your office to close all the blinds. “Y/L/N,” you answer and you were met with silence.

“If this is some ploy to scare me, you really suck at it.” Reacher stared at the phone, his heart pattering wildly in his chest.

You just had that effect on him.

You were about to hang up the phone when you heard a low baritone say your name.

You looked down at the number before bringing the phone back up to your ear. “Reacher? Is everything okay?”

You peeked through the blinds of your office and saw no one suspicious but you can never be too careful.

“I, uh.” Reacher starts, earning confused stares from Finlay and Roscoe. They hadn’t seen him speechless before.

He takes the phone off speaker and goes outside for some privacy. “Y/N, I need your help cracking something. You’re more than welcome to say no-“ “Send it over,” you interrupt.

“I can’t. It’s likely they’ll track the IP address to you and pay you a visit.” “Let them try.” A proud smile makes its way on his face. That’s my girl.

“It’s safer with us. I’ll send you the coordinate incognito.” “Jesus, Reacher. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“It’s something I have to finish,” “How long should I pack for?” His silence told you all you needed to know.

“I’ll be on the next flight out,”

**

You stepped off the metro with your carry on suitcase by your side and a backpack on.

You downed the rest of your coffee and tossed it in the waste bin before advancing towards the escalator. You scanned the area for Reacher with no avail but Reached saw you.

He didn’t want to call attention to you by calling your name so he watched as you waited for the escalator.

“Wow, she’s.. ” Finlay trails off when Reacher’s gaze left you to stare at him. “Really pretty,” Roscoe finishes. “She’s clearly your girlfriend,” Finlay adds.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” “You’re rather protective of her. You care about her.”“That doesn’t make her my girlfriend,”

“Uh guys, where’d she go?” Roscoe starts. The group looks at the empty space where you were previously standing.

“Fuck,” Reacher rushes down the stairs, Finlay and Roscoe not far behind. I should have never took my eyes off of her, Reacher thought to himself. If she dies, I swear to God.

Meanwhile, you stood over the man who had pushed you a few feet into the metro tunnel.

He had pressed a knife to your throat while his teammate searched your belongings. They expected you to be a quick kill.

You had to say you were a bit insulted that they only sent two men after you. They must not see you as a physical threat. That was their mistake.

He laid at your feet, his eyes widen as he looks up at you. He peers over to his teammate who laid dead on the tracks, his neck split wide open.

You slowly approached him and he attempted to crawl away from you. The blood from his chest wound stains the pavement under near him.

You wasted no time as you pressed your boot down on his trachea. He gripped your ankle, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

Thrusting your foot down, you crushed his trachea and watched as his chest slowly falls to a stop.

You slung your book bag over your shoulder and rolled your carry on back to the metro docking station.

Reacher had his back toward you, he was talking to two people you didn’t recognize.

A younger woman looked over at you, her mouth fell open at the sight of you. You’re sure you had blood splattered across your neck and face.

She mumbles something to Reacher and spun around so fast, you’re surprised he didn’t crack his neck.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of you. He doesn’t say anything at first. You admired the stubble that was forming on his face.

You were always a sweetheart for facial hair. He held your face, turning your head from side to side in search of wounds. His hand gently trailed down your abdomen.

He continued his silent survey until you said, “Reach, I’m fine. The blood isn’t mine.”

His gaze fell behind you before returning to your face. He raised his brow and you nodded at his silent question. They were dead.

“I should have kept my eyes on you. This is my fault. I’m sorry.” “Hey, you taught me well. I handled myself. Besides, it was only two guys.”

“What did they use?” “Knives,” you said with a smirk. “They didn’t stand a chance,” he says, making your smirk widen. “No, they didn’t.”

“Sorry to interrupt but uh,” Finlay hands you a hanker chief, motioning to your face. “We should go. You’re getting stares.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, pleasure.” You reached down to grab your luggage but Reacher beats you to it.

You didn’t bother arguing with him, you were occupied with getting all of the blood off of your skin while it was still wet.

“So.. are you Reacher’s girlfriend?” Finlay asks as he opened the trunk and Reacher slide your luggage inside.

Roscoe looked at you expectantly, which tells you that she has a crush on him.

You don’t blame her. He’s Jack Reacher after all.

“No, I’m his ex-wife.” You answer, setting your book bag next to your luggage before closing the trunk. Roscoe’s mouth fell once again, along with Finlay’s.

They stared at you as if they were waiting for you to say just kidding. You slide into the back seat and Reacher joined you.

“Close your mouth, Finlay. You’ll catch flies.” He says before closing the door.

“Care to tell me what happened the last time you were at the metro?” You asked when you all piled into the car.

“What do you mean?” Roscoe asks as Finlay pulls off the curb and descends into exit to go onto the freeway.

“The way you were looking for me was frantic. It makes sense why Reach was worried, but not you two. Something else happened at the metro station. Someone was taken out like they tried to take me out. Who was it?” You explain.

Finlay and Roscoe looked shared a look but didn’t say anything.

“There was a woman. Her name was Molly-“ “Molly? As in Molly Gordon?” “You know her?”

“Joe brought her as his plus one to my sister’s baby shower. God, that’s.. how’s Joe holding up?” You asked, your mouth felt dry at the new information.

Reacher looks at you, his features hard as stone. Your heart sank in your chest the longer you stared at him.

You felt compelled to reach for his hand in comfort but you had to remind yourself that he wasn’t big on public affection.

Nor was he big on being vulnerable in front of people so you kept your hands in your lap.

“How long?” You asked after a pause. “It’s been a few days now,” Finlay confirms. “They got too close,” you said with a sigh.

“How many people have died?” “Five so far,” Roscoe answers. “And that’s just the ones we found,” Finlay adds.

“So they’re dropping people like flies and it’s still a state police matter?”

Bringing in the FBI and the CIA will only push these people into the hiding. We need to lure them out and kill them.” Reacher explains and you nodded in agreement.

“Copy that,”

[the-anonmaton]

Who do you belong to?

Relationships : Sevika x Reader Characters : Sevika, Original Female Character Rating : Explicit Tags : Smut, Fluff and Smut, Strap-Ons, Vibrators. Rough Sex, BDSM, Rope Bondage, Blindfolds, Gags, Dom/sub, Begging, Edgeplay, Orgasm Delay, Sadism, Jealousy, Possessive Sex, Consensual Sex, Safewords, Aftercare, Dom Sevika, Soft Sevika Words : 5,076

Summary:

What about a jealous Sevika punishing you?

**********

Congratulations, you were bound to fuck up eventually. 

And now you were getting what you deserved.

Unable to move because of the ropes, to see because of the blindfold, to speak because of your panties, to hear because of the heartbeat in your head. Only able to- No. Forced to feel.

**********

It was innocent, really. She was just a friend you helped out with her store and she offered to buy you a drink to return the favor. But Sevika didn't take it well. 

You two were enjoying a well deserved drink at The Last Drop, sitting in your usual booth, when you spotted your friend and went over for a quick chat. Then she bought you a drink, caught you up with her news, stroked your arm and thanked you for your help, hugged you tightly for goodbye, squeezed your hand, gave you a compliment, you laughed and went on your way back to Sevika.

And only then you caught the look on her face. You could feel her burning a hole through you. That wasn't good. You hurried your step towards her until you reached the booth and sat beside her.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

She only looked angrily at you before she averted her gaze to the bar. You followed her eyes to the object that caught her wrath. To your good friend. Oh no.

"I just helped her out at her store, she's the mechanic I told you about. She wanted to thank me." you tried hurriedly to explain.

"Really? And in what capacity she wanted to thank you?" She returned her eyes to look at you and you shivered at their intensity.

"Sevika, please, it's really nothing."

"And she must be really funny, too."

You held your breath, not wanting to say anything about the compliment, lest you provoke her further.

"I think we should go home." She told you, and you saw her face getting closer to yours.

"It's been a while since I reminded you who you belong to." She whispered in your ear.

A loud exhale left your lips at her hushed tone. You knew what you got yourself into. A feeling of excitement rushed through you, but you knew that entailed a sort of excruciating punishment on her part.

**********

Well, you must have messed up more than you thought. 

You've never been in the predicament you are in now.

Trembling and nowhere to run to escape her onslaught.

**********

She was silent all the way to your home, and as soon as you crossed the doorway, she turned around to lock the door and gave you just one order.

"Go to the bedroom and strip."

You obeyed and tried to take in a steady breath to calm your nerves as you made your way to your bedroom. As soon as you got naked you stayed put in the spot in the middle of the room with your eyes glued to the door, expectantly looking, heartbeat increasing with each passing second. For a minute you thought that this was your punishment, that she had gone and forgot about you, but that was too easy. Her punishments were more sinister than that. You knew.

You heard her before you saw her, her booted footsteps echoing down the hall and coming your way. And then she went through your bedroom door. Still dressed. Still looking angry. A fairly long rope hanging from her hand, considering the many loops it was forming.

"On the bed." She commanded again.

She followed you as you made your way wordlessly to lay on the bed. You refrained from completely laying down, instead your elbows behind you supported your weight, as she towered over you at the side of the bed, looking between you and the headboard, thinking. You wondered for a moment what could be going on in her mind, but probably you'll find out soon enough, for better of for worse.

Then she got to work.

She secured a piece of the rope around the bedpost behind you, before she opened a palm towards you expectantly and you offered her your hand. She immediately began tying you to the bed, rope going taut. She forewent the silk padding this time. Fuck. She was pretty mad. She repeated the process with your other hand on the other side of the bed. You gave an experimental tug but nothing budged and the feeling of excitement overwhelmed you again.

"Spread 'em."

That was your only warning, before rough hands forced your thighs apart and two fingers glided harshly through your folds, gathering the slick that was undoubtedly there, and a loud gasp left your mouth at the sudden groping.

"She got you this wet from just a hug, huh?" She spat while holding her fingers up for both of you to see them glistening with arousal.

"No, baby, please, it's not..."

"Silence." 

She cut you off, as she wiped her fingers on your spread thigh and went to the middle of the room, bent down to pick up something and returned to you. She pushed a cloth to your mouth, forcing you to open up and pretty quickly you understood that it was your discarded panties. You could taste yourself. Maybe your walk home wasn't accompanied by your purest thoughts.

"That would shut you up. I don't need pathetic excuses from you."

She picked another piece of the rope to continue with her work. This time she secured it at the side of the bed and grabbed your leg to wrap the other end of the rope around your knee, and pulled the rope taut until your knee was bend, thigh open and flat on the mattress. For a moment you thought that she would get up to go around for the other leg, but she fished out another piece of rope and this time she secured it around your ankle and to the same side of the bed, to keep it in placed, denying you more freedom. Then she got up to repeat the same process with your other leg. After she finished her task you gave another tug to test the ropes holding your knees and ankles down. Another failed attempt for movement. Fuck. You felt so open and exposed, and your heartbeat was skyrocketing.

You tried to see how much movement you were allowed. Your shoulders and hips were free to twist a bit and your back could arch a little and lift off the mattress. Okay, you could work with that to alleviate a bit of stress off your muscles.

"No, we can't have that."

Her threatening voice cut through the air, but when you turned your head at her direction you caught a smirk at her lips. That made it worse somehow. She picked the rope again and secured two pieces at one side of the bed and tossed them over your torso. Fucking hell. She rounded the bed and pulled the one piece tightly over your lower stomach, below your belly button and she began to secure the other just below your chest, over your ribs, until she stilled herself. She hummed and moved the rope over your chest, over your nipples. You released a muffled gasp at the rough texture over your sensitive dark buds as she pulled the rope a little tighter this time.

"This seems enough... for now."

Damn, her voice. You closed your eyes and exhaled to calm yourself. You were definitely dripping by this time.

A noise caught your attention, and you opened your eyes to inspect, only to find Sevika undressing with no care in the world, her side to you, standing in the middle of the room. She made her way to your dresser and opened the first drawer. Fuck, it was her strap drawer. She pulled out her harness and a black rippled dildo. You don't think she used it on you yet. It just appeared one day in the drawer. Curiosity got the better of you and tried to muffle a question.

"What was that?"

"Ah this?"

"You'll see."

"Or..."

"I don't think you deserved to look at me tonight."

She opened the second drawer, picked a blindfold and walked over to you, with the harness strapped around her and the black dildo in her other hand. A naked goddess before you, and you could only look at her, captivated. Until she put the blindfold over your eyes. You tried a muffled protest and a shake of your head but that only earned you a hard smack on the inside of your spread thigh. You shook at the pain and your nipples burned as the rope slightly moved over them. But that was enough to add to your muffled squeal.

"You don't get to make demands after the shit you pulled at the bar."

You tried to still yourself, lest to get overstimulated by the rope on your chest. A few seconds passed before you felt the mattress shift and a heavy weight settling between your legs. Your spread, open legs, between your exposed, wet, throbbing pussy. You felt metal and flesh hands pushing down on your thighs and stroking them, checking the ropes, gripping them hard, and then a warm finger, roughly tracing between your folds, spreading them. The warm sensation glided down towards your entrance circling and collecting the moisture that had gathered there, before gliding upwards all the way to your clit and pushing down. Hard. She kept the pressure there and your legs quivered, tied in placed, to no end.

"Look at you. The bitch got you wet enough for my cock."

No. It's you. Only you. I'm only wet for you.

"But, I don't think I'll give it to you."

Please, I need only you.

"But, maybe I can get you wetter. Make you forget all about her. That'll teach you letting others touch you."

Only you...

Suddenly the pressure disappeared, only to return at your entrance, as two thick warm fingers forced their way inside you. You tried to move your hips at the intrusion, but the rope held you in place and metal fingers dug in your hip. You shuddered at the pain and the pleasure that consumed you as she curled her fingers without giving you any time to recover and you muffled a scream.

"You're so tight. Do you think her dick is enough for you? Do you think she can fill you like I do?"

Just as they came, her fingers left, the pressure disappearing once again and you exhaled in relief and disappointment. And then you felt what could only be her strap at your entrance, just resting there, with you unable to move. Move towards it or away from it, you weren't sure. Another shift of the mattress. This time on either side of your chest and you felt a presence above you, before soft breasts, perked nipples and hardened stomach lit a fire where they touched your skin, then a breath tickling your cheek, a soft kiss and a whispered voice much different from before.

"Snap for me, beautiful."

The fog of your brain cleared, and your attention went to your hands, fingers clenched in tight fists unbeknownst to you. You relaxed your hands, let them hung as you took in a breath, steadying yourself, and felt another calm breath on your cheek, Sevika patiently waiting for you.

One snap. All good.

As soon as you snapped your fingers, you heard an amused hum above you and felt pressure between your legs as the strap began sliding inside you. Fuck. She kept going. Fuck, fuck! Was she going to slide all the way in one thrust? Fuck, apparently she was. And you couldn't do anything but just stay there and take it. You instinctively arched your back, trying to push up at her, but the rope rubbed on your nipples, adding to the forced stimulation she was providing.

You were bombarded from everywhere. The stretch of your pussy, the friction on your breasts, the presence above you, Sevika's breath hitting your face, her skin burning yours. You trembled in place, hands back in tight fists, eyes squeezed shut behind the blindfold, teeth biting hard on the panties in your mouth, a reverberate from your throat.

"Seems to me that you know that you deserve this."

"That you deserve your punishment."

"And maybe, if you learn your lesson, you get to come."

The sadist. Always had something to say and torment you while bottomed out inside your pussy.

She adjusted above you. You could no longer feel her breath on your face or her body against yours, but she didn't move. Her hands still on either side of you. She stayed over you, probably watching you lay there helpless, fueling her power trip with smirk on her face. The next moment the mattress shifted, and you felt a hand splayed on your stomach and moving up towards your breasts. The hand made its way to the rope on your chest and pulled it down, inevitably rubbing it on your nipples, and let it rest just under your breasts, over your ribs, where she first intended to put it. A relieved breath left your nose, only to be replaced by a sense of dread of what was her next step, which in turn made your walls flutter and clench around her strap.

You were right to be afraid, as sharp teeth wrapped around your overstimulated nipple and bit down, making you whimper. The changed position of the rope allowed you to move your upper torso, so you tried to pull away, but her teeth only clamped down harder, forcing you to still your movements, since that was the only way for the stimulation to pass. She only ever left you with impasses. You should know better before you tried and pulled away. So you forced yourself to calm down and accept the force of her bite.

"Well at least you know how to behave." She teased as she released your nipple and soothed it with a stroke of her tongue.

She moved to deliver a bite to your other breast and you being a good girl lay there and took it, letting her have her fill however she liked. You heard a pleased hum above you, after another stroke of her tongue to your bitten nipple. The pleasure made you once again clench around her strap that was momentarily forgotten due to her onslaught on your breasts. 

"Do you think she could make you behave like I do?" She whispered, her breath cooling your wet nipple.

"I think she is weak."

"Wouldn't even fuck you right."

Only you... 

You tried a muffle, and a deep breath without the fear of the rope rubbing over your nipples.

"Maybe you forgot how a good fuck feels."

"Maybe I should remind you."

"But you need to be punished first."

In the span of two seconds she pulled out abruptly only to ram back inside you in a powerful thrust, making you scream through your panties and tears to escape your tightly closed eyes. You expected that she would keep going, but she stilled after that one thrust. That was somehow more scary than if she started with a brutal pace.

"I think I now what your punishment will be."

Another powerful thrust. Another futile attempt from you to move. You only clenched at the stretch and moaned a scream.

"Don't forget, I now what you need to come."

Another powerful thrust, before she stilled again and the presence above you disappeared. But never left. The strap was still inside you when you felt hands gripping your thighs, pretty sure she could feel them tremble. A moment passed, as you tried to steady your ragged breaths that her torturous thrusts inflicted. A warm finger returned to your folds, stroking around the strap, pushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting soft moans from you.

"So open for me..."

"And only I get to see it, right?"

"You would never let her see you like this, right?"

"Or else..."

Suddenly, the strap inside you came to life and you jerked. The vibration was constant and the strap stayed still as Sevika remained a rock between your legs, probably seeing your folds moving with the rhythm of the vibrations, a smirk on her face and lust in her eyes. Once again, you tried to close your legs but the ropes held them in place. You where at her mercy, and without a voice to plead for her to allow you your relief. As she said, she knew what you needed to come, and what she was giving you wasn't it. Fuck. It was punishment indeed. Being so close to the edge but never falling over it.

Something clicked and the intensity of the vibrations demanded more of your overstimulated walls and you wailed. To add more to your predicament, the ropes dug further into your skin as you involuntary pulled harder, forcibly reminding you of your helplessness and you whimpered. 

An unexpected turn of events occurred, as you felt the cloth is your mouth being pulled away from you.

"Do you have anything to say?"

"Pl.. Please... It's not... enough..." You could only beg and pant between your whimpers and gasps.

"It's not supposed to be enough." You were so wound up and as a reflex you rolled your head back and pressed hard where it was resting on the pillow. It was the only part of your body under your control and you couldn't even control it. So it stayed there, leaving your neck an offer of submission to her.

"I ne-eed to come, p-please!" You felt a hot breath on you neck, a wet tongue licking a path from your throat to your ear and you forgot how to breathe, only to be reminded by the overwhelming stimulation between your legs a second later and you exhaled a gasp.

"Why should you?" You know she doesn't care what you need right now. This is a punishment and you are at her mercy.

Another click. You could hear the buzzing and the squelching of the strap against your wet walls. It was almost enough to feel it at your clit. Almost. You gasped freely now without the gag and heavy ragged breaths kept leaving your open mouth, chest moving up and down. You were feeling like you were about to explode.

"P-Please... So close..." Pain and pleasure consuming you, overstimulation getting the better of you.

"Do you need this?" A hard thrust of her hips, forcing you to move up the bed, despite being tied up.

"Ugh, yes..." You cried a moan.

"Or maybe this?" A firm circle with her thumb on your clit.

"Y-yes, please..." Your body shook with her rough treatment on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"How about this?" A thrust of her hips accompanied her stroking thumb on your clit.

You howled a cry and felt yourself getting closer to the edge. But as soon as she moved, she stilled once again, only the vibration of her strap left in its place deep inside you to keep up with its torture.

"Baby, p-please, let me come..."

"Do you think you deserve it?"

"P-Please... Yours..."

You must've said something right because suddenly everything stopped, the vibrations ceased and you felt it slightly move as she towered over you, both hands once again on either side of you. Her body was touching yours again and you could feel her sweat mingling with yours. Once again you tried to calm yourself, before she removed your blindfold. You blinked up at her, trying to adjust to the change in light, your eyes and cheeks wet by tears. You felt a warm calloused hand on your cheek, a thumb collecting the tears away. You hummed at the movement and closed your eyes.

"Sevika..."

"Did you learn your lesson?"

"P-please..."

"Answer me. Did you learn your lesson?" A hard, demanding grind against your throbbing center and you choked.

"Y-yes... Please..."

"And who do you belong to?"

"You... Only you..."

"Do you think anyone else can fuck you like I do?"

"No, no one... only you... I'm yours, baby, please..."

"Hmm, then I'll take what is mine."

She gave you no warning before sitting up once again, setting the strap on its highest setting and starting a brutal pace pistoning her hips. You howled at the sudden stimulation, at the friction the strap was providing, the maddening spot she was hitting within you and at the vibrations only adding to the sensations. Then metal and flesh hands gripped you hard by the hips to bring you harder against her with every thrust, and also to stop you from moving up the bed because of the force of her movements. You would be lying if you said that her show of strength didn't add to the wetness between your legs.

You began shaking again, trying to pull the ropes to free yourself, to wrap your legs around her waist to pull her in deeper, to circle your arms over her strong shoulders and feel the muscles under your fingers. But you should know better. This was a punishment after all, despite the fact that she was getting you closer to the edge. Sevika wanted you unmoving and you could do nothing about it. The thought of her owning you in such a way made you clench hard around the strap stretching you. 

"P-please... So close... Only yours..."

"That's right, take it and come for me. I want my orgasm, baby." She was panting, her hips keeping up with the speed she set, not even faltering.

You were clenching, panting, moaning, gasping, trembling, unable to thrash, only managing to make the ropes dig further into your skin. You were so close and you both could feel it, see it and hear it. And finally a hard pressure of a thumb on your clit was all it took to push you over, and you crashed. A shiver rippled through you, all over your body, a silent scream left your lungs, your muscles on your stomach clenched, your tied arms and legs pulled harder on the ropes, the waves of pleasure never ending as she fucked you through your orgasm -no, it was hers and you were gladly giving it to her, or letting her take it- prolonging it, milking every bit of it, only turning off the vibrations and slowing down her pistoning when your breaths started to come down.

Her movements stopped and she once again towered over you. Her face close to yours when you finally opened your eyes, when the fog in your mind cleared enough for you to focus. She was looking intently at you, before leaning down to claim your mouth in a bruising kiss, demanding access to your mouth with her tongue, which you obediently granted. You were hers after all. Lost in the kissing and her soft lips you gasped in her mouth when she squeezed a breast and abruptly pulled out of you, chuckling at your reaction. The asshole.

She stood up after a kiss on your cheek, and with her metal hand started cutting away all the ropes and you let your arms and legs collapse on the mattress with a hiss. Glancing at the throbbing redness on your skin you huffed a curse. And then Sevika was once again on you, kissing you softly this time, in contrast with her roughness only a minute ago. She kissed your lips, your cheeks, your closed eyes, she kissed your dried tears, before gathering your hand with her own and kissing at the red bruises there. You hummed at her gentle motions and just lay there and let her do whatever she wanted. She kissed your other hand and wrist, your chest, a few light kisses on your sensitive nipples, on the marks the rope caused on your lower stomach, your knees and ankles, before coming back up to face you.

"You okay, baby?" She took a hand in hers, gave it a gentle kiss and traced her thumb over your knuckles.

"Hmm..."

"So, do you think you will remember what you learned tonight?"

You opened your eyes to see her smirk, mirthful eyes looking back at yours, and you huffed a chuckle.

"Only yours." You whispered with an exhale and closed your eyes again as you lightly squeezed her hand.

"Good girl. Now let me take care of you, beautiful."

She picked you up in her strong arms and carried you to the bathroom, water already filling the tub. You're not even sure when she managed to get the water running. You're not complaining though. You relaxed even at the thought of the pampering she had in store for you. As she always had before. Your heart always swelled at the gentleness that followed your every scene.

Maybe you should let your friend buy you another drink some other time, if that's what would be waiting for you afterwards.

Maybe you loved your sadist girlfriend and her punishments.

**********

"She said your delivery has arrived." You mumble, on the verge of sleep.

"Yeah, I know, she told me, too. That's what you're talking about at the bar?" She responds as she's getting out of the tub, after she helped you clean up.

"Among other things." You hear her shuffling and rummaging around the bathroom.

"Hmm" You can hear her ruffling with a towel, drying herself up, the gentle sounds tingling your senses.

"She liked my jeans, too." You add a little more mischief in your voice so she doesn't doubt that she caught it.

"I see." Her playful tone doesn't escape you as she picks up the nearby stool. 

**********

She's behind you for what feels like forever, sitting on the stool and kneading every muscle on your back she can reach. You're sitting in the water, proped up with your back against the side of the bathtub, head down, hands resting palm-up at your sides and legs sprawled in front of you, occasionally feeling droplets fall on your shoulders from her wet hair.

"How you feeling, baby?" She asks as she's massaging the back of your neck with firm fingers.

"Mmm..." You're relaxed out of your fucking mind and she chuckles.

A few minutes pass with her keeping massaging you and you're melting under her touch.  

"Was it too much?" Her sudden words would lull you further into a near-sleep state with how soft she spoke them, but the concern behind her voice does exactly the opposite and your ability to think comes back to you as you sit a little straighter in the tub.

"What?"

"Tonight... Was it okay?"

"Baby, it was more than okay. But I would prefer that we wait before repeating that." You slightly turn your head just so she can see the smile on your face and you hope it can ease her mind.

It's true, you really enjoyed tonight, maybe a little too much, and you've done similar stuff before with her rough-fucking you into oblivion, so you're a little unsure why she's checking in with you again, not that you mind. You love your girlfriend and her soft heart, even more so that she only let's you to see it. But you would be lying if you said that her possessiveness tonight didn't turn you on.

"You sure? You know I only did it for fun, right? I wasn't jeal-"

"Sevika." You cut her off.

You hear her exhale, stopping her rambling and clearly waiting for you to say what you have to say, her hands never halting their motions over the top of your back and shoulders and you try to choose your words carefully now that you now what her concern is.

"Baby, it's fine, I promise. Yes, it was new and unexpected, but I really, really enjoyed it. Trust me, if I didn't I would've told you, right?"

"Yeah, yeah..."

"Besides, we've done some hardcore stuff before." You turn abruptly to face her, inevitably splashing water everywhere on the wall, the floor, on her, and you give her the naughtiest smirk as you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively.

She looks back at you, hands hovering in front of her naked frame due to your sudden movement, mouth agape, an adorable dumbstruck look on her face and you would swear you fall in love with her all over again. A few seconds pass before she gets her mind straight again and she chuckles, shaking her head at your antics and dropping her hands on her knees.

"Now you just have to be extra nice to me and pamper me some more." You softly smile up at her and try to convey to her that tonight was indeed perfect and she finally let's out a huff and nods.

"Of course, beautiful." A hand coming up to your face, a thumb stroking your cheek and you turn a little to place a kiss in her palm as you reach to hold her hand with your own.

"Can you pretty please massage me some more now?" You look up at her with your irresistible puppy eyes, squeeze her hand and she chuckles.

"Anything you want, baby." She smiles and gently nudges you to turn back around.

**********

A soft kiss on the back of your neck and fingers gliding to caress your shoulders have you humming contently and with closed eyes you slowly throw your head back over the edge of the bathtub to lean on her knee and smile up at her.

"Ready to get out? Water's getting cold." She says as she smooths your wet hair out of your face.

"Just a couple minutes..." You mumble.

"Okay, beautiful." 

You hear her shift in her place before you feel hands cradling your face as she leans down to steal a gentle kiss and you moan before reciprocating.

"You know..." you mumble between the kissing and she acknowledges you with a hum, not wanting to stop worshiping your soft lips with her tongue.

"Maybe I should let her buy me another drink the next time."

She slowly pulls back and you open your eyes to look up at her, a devilish smirk, a raised eyebrow, a trace of the possessive look she gave you at the bar evident on her face, and you already feel a shiver travel up your spine.

"Maybe you should."

Oh, the trouble you can get into.

**********

taglist : @opropheticsoul

Thanks for reading! :)

[taag-the-withering]

Alright It’s Whitepine Theory Time:

When Ep 3 released and we had that interesting conversation between Clown and Ivory in the car, we learned several important things.

Firstly: Clown fought in a war sometime before coming to the estate. We later learn within the same episode that Clown fought in the war with Reddoons. Another detail about Reddoons that we learn is that he’s a friend of both Clown and the Hemlock family.

Secondly: Clown has worked at the estate for a long time, when horses and carriages were still being used.

Within this conversation in the car, there’s one detail that I noticed immediately when watching and have kept it in my mind since:

When Ivory told Clown that he was a hard worker he said “what else can you do?”

This has stuck to me because between all of the groundbreaking details on Clown’s history and the history of the estate and the connections the Hemlocks have, I believe that there was another only slightly hidden right in front of us.

That line of “what else can you do” (specifically in a sombre -and almost defeated I would say- tone) alongside everything else we learned about this episode implies that Clown is at least somewhat forced into the position of working for the Hemlocks.

This was backed up by the fact that Reddoons originally worked for the estate and then left. What makes it more interesting is that Clown is short with Reddoons, I’d almost more so than with Ivory when questioned about who could have killed Mysty (but that ties into my second theory that I have for Whitepine). Clown’s displeasure combined with the fact that Reddoons used to work for the estate implies that Reddoons got out and Clown remains stuck at the estate.

The second thing that backs up the fact that Clown may be forced into and to stay at the estate and work is the information we learned in the most recent episode (ep 5).

Ivory comes across Ivo and Kantje in an argument and finds out Ivo is leaving the estate, we learn a couple things from Ivory’s eavesdropping and the subsequent short conversation with Ivo afterwards.

Firstly, neither Kantje or Ivo appear to be making good money. Which really isn’t surprising considering that despite how decent the Hemlockes seem to treat the staff (as far as we can tell) they are still rich. And rich people never seem to pay their employees well do they?

Secondly, Ivo seems to be encouraging Kantje to get a new job. Something that he tells Ivory as well. What makes the fact that he’s telling people to leave interesting is that he really doesn’t have to do that? It’s like he’s serving as an omen for what’s to come.

Kantje says this in response to that:

We already know what Ivo was saying, it is already pretty blatant: “Get out while you can before it’s too late.”

Too late can mean a couple of things. Firstly Ivo could mean pay getting worse, and the members being too entrapped at the estate and unable to leave. I believe that Kantje and Ivory are examples of “misfits” where the estate will take them in and not pay them well in order to keep cheap easy work for them, because who else would hire them?

Kantje says that he has a background that makes it difficult to get a job. And Ivory was found by Minutetech in the middle of nowhere and given a job. How would they be able to leave?

Secondly, unable to leave because you’ll be dead. Perhaps a more literal omen, but it does make sense.

(Side theory, unconnected to this: the next death will occur on the first snow of winter. The season’s keep being brought up and I’m expecting something big in relation to that.)

To connect back to the main idea and what Clown has to do with this. I believe that after the war, both Reddoons and Clown were hired as veterans, but something else (something that we don’t know yet, another factor that we don’t know of) caused them to be hired. Then Reddoons got out probably by creating the shop he now owns, causing Clown to hold a slight resentment, only being able to work up instead of out.

Ultimately, this is just a theory, sparked by that one line. But the theory does hold some logic in it, imagining the timeframe they had to work in, what else can you do?

[hottpinkpenguin]

Easy Company HC's: Letters Home

A/n: I'm really rolling with these BofB headcanons! hope you enjoy :)

Characters included: Dick Winters, Lewis Nixon, Ronald Speirs, Carwood Lipton, Buck Compton, David Webster, Joe Liebgott

Dick Winters

Writes frequent, short letters

Meticulously dates his letters and includes a blurb about the weather. January 12th, 1945. It’s snowing outside, dark and cold. 

Starts each letter with My dear y/n 

Always asks how you are, even though he’s the one fighting a damn war

Follows up on every little question or story you include in your letters. How was the bake sale? Did you ever hear how Louise Graham’s brother is doing after taking that shrapnel to the shoulder? Hope you were able to get someone out to look at the washing machine.

Ends his letters with classic but sentimental sign-offs, like Affectionately yours and All my love

Makes sure not to include anything in his letters that would worry you. Doesn’t necessarily lie or fake being happy, but just gently side steps that. 

Although every once in a while you get a longer letter where Dick’s handwriting is a little messier. You know it’s from writing fast, you can almost feel the pressure behind the penmarks. He opens up more in those letters, talks about losing too many good men and sometimes will say things that just absolutely break your heart, like sometimes I wonder how all of this is really going to end for the men who are over here fighting. 

Even in these letters, Dick never says “I” or “Me”, always writes about the men and the boys. You know - and so does he - that he’s including himself in those boys.

His next letter he always makes sure to reassure you. And it’s genuine, you can tell. He’ll say something like I have to put some of these heavier thoughts somewhere, and there’s nowhere I trust more than with you. 

When he comes home, you find a stack of letters you wrote to him tied up in a neat bundle and stashed in an inside pocket of his Ike jacket that he sewed in especially for that purpose. You could tell by the flimsy, near-ripped creases and dirty paper that he’d read each one about a hundred times over. Buried in the middle of the stack was the picture you’d given him before he’d left for training. On the back, he’d written simply your name, the date the photo was taken, and a short instruction: in event of my death, please send all personal effects to with your home address. It made you sob but you never told him you found it.

GIF by mads-weasley

Lewis Nixon

Rarely writes. Actually drives you crazy with worry most of the time.

When he finally does, you can tell that he’s initially annoyed at having to put his thoughts down on paper. Letters start off with short, sarcastic sentences like nothing new here. Still fighting the war, in case you hadn’t heard. Enjoying German hospitality. 

But as the letters go on he relaxes into it and stops being so grouchy. 

Because he’s always grumpy at having to write (you should probably thank Dick for cajoling Lew into actually sitting down to write to you), he usually doesn’t write any sort of introduction or sweet address, just dives right into it.

His letters usually don’t say much, he just kind of rambles about how much he hates being away from you and how he can’t wait for the whole damn thing to be over. 

Sometimes he’ll write something so incredibly romantic it takes your breath away, like I’d fight a whole division of Panzers myself if I could just get one more sniff of your perfume. 

Those are the letters you save and reread to yourself over and over again when you’re waiting weeks for the next one.

Always signs off with something kind of sassy but also sweet?, like You know I love you or Keep our bed warm for me. 

Sometimes you feel like you can smell whiskey on the paper, which both worries you but also reminds you of Lew

When he finally gets home and you ask him about what he did with your letters, he kind of looks at you like you’ve gone crazy and says I read them of course, what else was I supposed to do with them? 

This hurts your feelings at first which of course he doesn’t understand, but after a few weeks you start to realize that he actually did read them and not only that he memorized their contents. Like he refers to your mother as “the Wicked Witch of Wichita” (something you called here after you wrote him a long rambling letter about how angry she made you at your sister’s bridal shower) and buys you a bouquet of daffodils because you wrote him a letter with a daffodil doodle in the margins of the page talking about the spring gardens. 

You realize that Lew shows his love in the little details, and it makes you appreciate him all the more.

GIF by beautifulguycollector

Ronald Speirs

Ron’s letters read like military bulletins. 

Doing well despite the cold. 1st sgt sick with pneumonia. Think of you often.

Writes predictably once per week. Never misses a letter. Ever. 

You always write him long, lengthy, romantic letters. Sometimes even a little raunchy, if you’ve had some wine. After one particularly *ahem* suggestive letter, you feel ridiculous and say so the next time you write.

In typical Ron fashion, you get a short, to-the-point reply, but it still puts a smile on your face and a blush on your cheeks: Loved your letter. Keep writing. 

Towards the end of the war, Ron starts a countdown to when he expects to be coming home. Two months now, maybe less. Home for the Fourth of July. 

Also signs off with R.S. Which makes you laugh, as if you could forget who was writing to you.

Whenever your girlfriends find a letter from Ron (you keep them all in a shoebox in your closet), they tease you and ask how you can possibly be in love with someone so stiff and formal. To which you can only chuckle to yourself, because you know it’s just that they don’t understand that Ron doesn’t tell you he loves you, he shows you. Writing a letter every single week. Updating you on everything going on, even short updates, because he wants you to know how he’s doing. That’s Ronald Speirs’ love language.

Maybe three weeks before Ron comes home, you start getting boxes of (stolen?) German silver at your door. At first it freaks you out and makes you feel slimy for having lavish riches from an enemy country, so you don’t unpack the boxes and you just stack them up in the back bedroom. When Ron gets home and sees the boxes unopened and shut away, he immediately asks you what’s wrong. You stammer out an explanation and without blinking an eye, Ron loads them into his truck and takes them to the dump. 

(Later you convince him that a better use of those would be to donate them to the local orphanage, so off he goes in his truck to get the boxes back out of the dump and bring them to shelter.)

One night when you’re lying awake, head on Ron’s chest, talking idly about things that don’t matter, he interrupts you to ask Can you guess which letter I kept? 

You instantly blush, thinking of that risque letter you wrote him when you were halfway through your second bottle of white wine. He shakes his head and pulls a letter out of his nightstand and hands it to you. You don’t recognize it immediately, although you do see that it’s too short to be one of the naughtier correspondences. 

It’s too dark to read, so you ask him which letter. He says it’s the one you wrote to me for my birthday. 

You don’t remember that one and you tell him as much, so you ask him why he kept that one instead of some of the others. He looks down at you with a serious look in his eyes, a little surprised that you can’t figure it out. Then he tells you: it’s the first time you wrote that you loved me. 

The next day, you sneak a peek at the letter and realize he’s right. You signed it, I love you Ron. 

From then on, you make sure to tell him that every night before he falls asleep.

Carwood Lipton

Formal, sweet letters. This man is a king of romancing by words.

Writes as often as he can, but you know that Lip needs peace and quiet for an entire evening to get one of those letters done (he probably definitely writes a draft or two before he gets it right). And let’s face it, Easy Company doesn’t have the luxury of many quiet evenings. 

Always, always, always starts his letters off with Dear (future) Mrs. Lipton, which you honestly think is hopelessly corny but it’s way too adorable to tell him so. And besides, you secretly love it.

He always reminisces about home in his letters. Tells you how much he misses the smell of your baking, the squeak of the front porch swing that you two would sit on and watch the sunset. 

He worries a lot about you and his family. He always asks you to look in on his mother if it’s not too much trouble. 

Lip doesn’t talk much about the war, in fact he hardly acknowledges it at all. And he never uses the term ‘war’ or ‘battle’. Instead, he says things like The boys over here are still committed to doing the job or Easy presses on.  

Lip’s letters get a little shorter and less soft after Bastogne. He starts including the names of the casualties in his company in the P.S. Even though you don’t know these men except by name - and some of them, not even that - you feel honored that he trusts you with their memories. 

Lip has saved your letters and all the pictures you sent to him - he loves pictures, and asks for an updated one of you almost every month - tucked in his foot locker and safely between the pages of his Bible so they don’t get creased or dirty. 

You also find that he’s kept stacks of letters from some of his men that died in the field. When you ask him what he plans to do with the letters, he gets a heartbreaking, far-off look in his eyes and says I reckon I’ll try to get them back to their families. 

You take on the burden of doing that, and you write to some of the families introducing yourself and introducing Lip and offering to forward them the letters.

All the replies you get back mention that their soldier talked about how good a leader and friend Lip was. Their replies bring tears to your eyes. For some reason, you don’t show the letters to Lip, although you do tell him about them. He never asks to read the letters, he just kisses you on your forehead and tells you that he’s never loved you more. 

Even after he’s home, he’ll still write you a letter from time to time, usually at Christmastime or for your birthday in the summer. His letters are always talking about his favorite memories with you, and there’s always a paragraph at the end where he talks about how in love with you he is. It’s borderline poetry and it makes you cry every single time.

GIF by balladofthe101st

Buck Compton

Basically just writes a list of questions for you to answer in every letter.

Wants to know everything about what’s going on at home. Especially sports teams.

Doesn’t write frequently, so sometimes it’s hard to feel like there’s a conversation happening. 

But he always includes sweet little notes about how much he’s thinking of you and how he’s counting down the days until he can hold you again, so you’re not complaining. 

Not the most poetic writer. Always says what he thinks and feels though. Completely honest and open. 

Does not tell you anything about the war. Basically ignores the entire thing. 

Sometimes you think about asking him about that, but you figure that he’s not talking about it for a reason, so you follow suit.

Calls you baby in his letters. 

Doesn’t actually say ‘I love you’ in his letters, although says everything else. Miss you baby. Dream about you all the time. When I get home, I’m putting a ring on your finger. 

One time he writes that he woke up last night out of a dream and swore I could taste you and it makes your toes curl.

You save that letter, tuck it in your underwear drawer. 

Signs his letters very simply: Buck. Sometimes he’ll put something in like until next time or I’ll write soon. But usually nothing super romantic or sentimental.

Doesn’t save your letters, but that really doesn’t bother you too much because all you wrote in them was basically just rambling details that Buck requested about your boring day-to-day. 

Buck’s always better in person than in writing - he’s a quality time and physical touch kind of guy - but you know that your letters were his only lifeline to normal during the war, and you’re just happy to have him back at all. 

He does surprise you one night when it’s really quiet in the house and you’re sitting on the couch together, each reading a book. He suddenly turns to you and says You know baby girl, your letters saved my sanity over there. It’s the most he’s really ever said about the war, but it’s enough, and you kiss him so he knows that you get it.  

GIF by balladofthe101st

David Webster

Unsurprisingly, Web is probably the best letter writer in all of Easy Company. 

He helps a lot of the other guys write letters home, especially if they’re trying to say something important. Web just has a knack for words unlike any other. 

He writes a lot of letters home, not just to you, but to the rest of his family, his siblings, some of his friends, and definitely his professors. 

So because you’re close with Web’s family, you do get to read a lot of his writing. 

His letters to you are different though. They’re darker and a little less polished. Sometimes, they frighten you a little bit. Web talks about things you’re not you really understand - like how pointless death is, how empty it makes him feel to see his friends get KIA, how he carries around guilt about surviving this long like an anchor. 

Refers to you exclusively in his letters by your first name, his writing is always serious and somber and drenched with heavy emotions, so pet names just really don’t fit the vibe.

He quotes poetry and literature quite a bit when he writes. It all feels a bit Gothic, but you’ve always known that Web has found clarity in the world through books, so you don’t begrudge him a little poetic license.

Signs his letters Yours in perpetuity, David K. Webster. 

Asks you to send books. Sometimes he asks for something specific, but other times he’s happy to get whatever you pick out for him. Your tastes are different from his; you prefer to choose shorter, gentle pieces about life in the British countryside or Western adventure novels. Web would prefer Wadsworth or Hemingway, but he figures it’s probably in his best interests to read things that don’t tackle dark themes. You always tuck a letter for him into the first few pages. 

He doesn’t save your letters, per se, although he does save every single book you send to him. When he gets home, he puts them all up on the bookshelf in his office. Even though they’re beat up and stained and not at all fitting with the rest of his collection, they’re front and center. 

Sometimes he takes a stab at sketching in his letters. He’s not bad, either. You try to encourage him to take lessons when he gets home, which he never does. He secretly loves how much you love his drawings though.

GIF by yourspeirs

Joe Liebgott

KING OF DIRTY LETTERS

You definitely like to re-read his letters… again and again…

Not every letter is a dirty one. But most are. Or at least have a dirty section in them. 

You don’t know how this man makes you feel wanted from halfway around the world, but somehow he does. Lord knows you love a lot about your Joey, but you didn’t realize how good he was with words until you found yourself practically stalking the mailman, hoping for another delivery from Joe.

Uses a lot of pet names in his letters. Baby girl, Doll, Princess are some of his favorites. Literally never calls you by your name.

Always signs off with Your Joey. 

Even when Joe is clearly in a dark place, his letters are saturated with how much he needs you and how he can’t stop thinking about all the ways he’s going to have you when he gets home. 

When your mother finds one of Joey’s letters to you, she throws an absolute shit fit and freaks out that you’re sleeping with someone before you’re married. It takes a long time for you to convince her that you haven’t slept with Joey yet, you’re just… really into dirty talking.

She kinda chills after that but still looks at you suspiciously every time you get a letter from him.

She never tells your dad though, which makes you think maybe she’s more supportive of your relationship with him than you realized.

After working up the courage, you write Joe a letter that is so sinful you actually doubt whether you should send it in the mail, it just feels so wrong.

When I say this man goes crazy for that letter, it is an understatement. He is out of his mind and immediately writes you a reply telling you so. Basically begs you for more.

Even though your letters back and forth with Joe are pretty raunchy, there’s also a sweetness to them. He’s always sure to mention that This ain’t just all talk, Doll. When you’re Mrs. Liebgott, you’re gonna see exactly what I’ve been writing about. Which you know is still pretty dirty, but hey, he’s basically proposing to you, right?

You are not the least bit surprised to know that he kept your naughtiest letters when he finally gets home.

But, Joseph Liebgott is a man of his word, and even though he is clearly dying to and you’re practically begging him to, he doesn’t make good on all those dirty promises until after you’re wearing his ring.

Much to your delight, you find that he is just as good with actions as he is with words.

[euphorajeon]

wednesday night(s) | jjk

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff? | college au

— word count: 2.9k

— warnings: laundromat!jk (!!!), stalkerish behaviour (not jk or oc), dubious-consensual kissing (but they talk about it after), jk is a sweetheart and oc is just a blabbering mess

— summary: on a wednesday night seven weeks ago, you met someone in the laundry room. this wednesday night, you meet him again.

— author's note: i suck at summaries,, the story is better i promise (i hope,,, T_T) anyways. i had this in the draft like a few weeks after seven mv was released and then got stuck, revisited it months later then finished it like this. hah. i hope laundromat!jk with his grey hoodie and curly hair is enough to keep this enjoyable :]

masterlist

The dim lighting of the shared laundry room in your apartment building greets you as you step inside with your laundry basket in hand. It’s devoid of other people when you look around, the whirring of the washers and dryers the only sound competing with the silence of the night. You exhale a breath of relief, quickly making a beeline for the nearest empty washer to load your dirty clothes that’s piled up for a week.

Being a college student doesn’t give you many options for your living arrangement, only being able to settle on a one-bedroom apartment with a communal laundry room. In the first months of moving into the apartment, your schedule only allowed you to do your laundry on the weekends, which was apparently the same case for most patrons of the building. The laundry room was always full of people and you had to secure a washer by waiting for someone else to finish, wasting precious hours away from your supposedly free weekend. That, and your social battery was always drained from all the loud conversations among roommates and friends alike when they were also waiting for a washer to free up. You couldn’t stand having your energy gone even before Monday said hello, so you tried to clear your schedule to avoid doing laundry on the weekend.

Wednesday nights are scheduled for laundry now, after a day of two classes at campus and one shift at the coffee shop five bus stops away from where you live. Usually you’d be tired after the long day, but the laundry room is mostly quiet in the middle of the week, so you use the time to decompress while preparing yourself for your 10 am shift at the coffee shop Thursday morning. The burn in your arms after folding your shirts and pants for nearly twenty minutes helps you tune out your surroundings, which normally consists of the occasional one or two other patrons coming in and the whirr and beep of machines.

“You showed up late tonight.”

Ah, that’s something you forget to mention. Or rather, someone.

Your heart jumps in your chest, beats stuttering a bit faster not because you’re flustered in his presence, but because he just popped out of nowhere. Wasn’t the room empty when you scanned it upon your entry?

Maybe you were too busy trying to declutter your mind from the day’s events that you didn’t hear him loading his own laundry into the washer. Didn’t hear the beep when his washer started, didn’t hear him calling you upon noticing your presence, didn’t hear him walk closer, and certainly didn’t hear when he sat on top of the washer right next to the one you’re using. Or maybe you did hear something, but didn’t care enough to find out who it was.

“Did you go on a date?” He gestures to the black tanktop you have on underneath your denim jacket. Probably referring to your face too, which is still caked with make up because you haven’t had time to clean it off yet. You spare him a glance with a downturn of your lips, by now a standard response to whatever he says, really.

You met him for the first time around seven weeks ago, when he accidentally knocked you over with his gigantic laundry basket. He had apologized profusely with that big, round peepers of his and you had brushed him off with a polite smile, hoping he’d just drop it and leave you alone like any normal person would. He had been silent for the rest of his laundry cycle, but you could feel the way his eyes never left your figure for the remainder of the night.

A week after that, you found him using the exact same washer as last week and tried to avoid the one next to his, planning to load your laundry quietly and duck out of there before he had the chance to realize that you were in the vicinity. The plan was … partly successful as you managed to get out of the laundry room to wait out the washing cycle in your room, but not before he appeared beside you when you were putting in fabric softener into the washer. He had waited until your washer started running to once again voice out an apology for the laundry basket incident, something you told him to chill out about. He was just about to tell you his name when you mumbled out an excuse to flee, leaving him gaping in the middle of the laundry room. You did not want to know his name.

You found out anyway on your next Wednesday shift at the coffee shop, when you were munching on a chocolate muffin in the break room with one of your coworker, Mingyu. He had been showing you his Instagram account, scrolling through the photos when you recognized the Laundry Guy in one of them. “You know him?” Mingyu had inquired upon noticing your thumb had paused scrolling. A recount of what happened two weeks ago involving a certain doe-eyed boy and his enormous laundry basket was told, pulling out an amused laugh from your coworker. “His name is Jeongguk,” Mingyu kindly informed you (even though you didn’t ask.) “He’s in a few of my classes. Likes doing laundry. One time I went to his apartment to hang out and he did laundry in the middle of the night.”

Maybe you would’ve liked this Jeongguk guy if he kept doing his laundry in the middle of the night, out of your sight.

“Hey, Star, someone is looking for you.” The sound of Jeongguk’s voice pulls you back to the present.

Star. The nickname he started calling you by when he saw you loading your blanket—which is dark blue in color and has yellow stars all over it—into the washer one time. You’ve never really responded to it, but he sticks by the nickname like he’s been calling you that since you both were five. You let him have it then, seeing it as a win-win because it keeps him from knowing your name but still lets you know whenever he’s around and talking to you.

But beyond the nickname, the words after that caught your attention. Jeongguk’s nudge on your arm is barely noticeable, but the way his eyes are fixated on the doorway makes you follow his line of sight. There, just outside the laundry room, stood the person you want to see the least right now. Not after the shitty presentation you gave in class this morning (that in turn, got you scolded by your professor), not after you did terrible on your quiz on the second class, and not after you got an earful from your manager at the cafe for not handling a customer complaint professionally. Oh, and certainly, not in front of Jeongguk.

The person outside the laundry room yells your name. “Fancy meeting you here!” he continues, the cheery tone grating your ears. Fuck, how did he know where you live?

Hyun is—was—just a regular customer of the coffee shop you work at. You always see him on your shift, and in turn, have memorized his name and order because he always orders the exact same, simple thing: a medium caramel macchiato with two extra shots. Heck, it’s simple enough that even Mingyu has it drilled into his brain as well. There are multiple occasions where either you or Mingyu had already had Hyun’s order keyed in when he’s just approaching the cashier. Efficient work time, and all.

Unfortunately, this act of memorization is seen as flirting by the guy. He’s started smiling more at you, giving you cheeky winks, even sliding you his phone number on the napkin by the pick-up counter. You’ve tried to reject him politely, but Hyun is so dense that he interpreted your polite rejection as you playing hard to get and thus has been trying even harder to get you to date him. This makes you furious but Mingyu thinks it’s hilarious.

Wait. Mingyu…

He could be the one who told Hyun where you live. That motherfucker.

In the midst of your misery, you miss the way Jeongguk’s eyes light up at finally getting to know your name after seven weeks. Completely miss the way his eyes fill with mirth and his cherub cheeks lifting up in the beginning of a teasing smile, which dims as soon as he sees you bury your head in hands.

“Can we get out of here?” you grit through your teeth. You don’t even know when I turned to we, and with Jeongguk, of all people. You could’ve just bolted out of there, wait out your laundry cycle in your room like usual and pretend you don’t notice Jeongguk’s disappointed gaze that follows. Could’ve left him to deal with Hyun who’s inching closer towards you and have fun imagining him fumble trying to explain nonexistent shit to Hyun.

But that route could end up very badly if Hyun decided to abandon Jeongguk and follow you up to your room instead. It’s scary enough that he knows precisely what building you live in—you don’t need him knowing the exact room number. Hence, using Jeongguk as a shield at this moment feels like a safe choice.

“Heyyy,” Hyun’s voice reaches your ears again, prompting you to glance up, seeing him just a few steps away from you. In a desperate attempt, you grip the material of Jeongguk’s grey hoodie, whisper I’m so sorry before pulling him down to kiss him right on the mouth.

It’s awkward. You can feel how shocked Jeongguk is by the way his lips are still, frozen like a statue for the first few seconds of your kiss. Can’t blame him, though, after his numerous attempts of camaraderie were only responded with a cold shoulder by you. Heck, if you were in his position, you’d slap yourself across the face for pulling this crazy stunt. But Jeongguk is not you, so instead of that, he relaxes his lips before lightly gripping your jaw to angle your head better so he can kiss you properly.

And kiss properly you do, until all you can hear is only the smacking of your lips and the few soft sighs Jeongguk slips in between. He kisses you slowly, sucks on your bottom lip softly like it’s his favorite gummy candy and he wants to savor the taste. He must’ve had a lot of practice to be kissing someone this good.

“Really?” Hyun’s voice sounds far away in your head. “You think I would fall for that?”

When neither of you responds, still busy sucking each other’s lips, Hyun continues. “Please,” he says sarcastically. “Anyone could see that this is all fake.”

You feel Jeongguk pulling away from the kiss, his lips just a breath away from yours. You keep your eyes closed, your breath held, in fear that you’d melt into a puddle right then and there if you see Jeongguk’s face this close. When he speaks, the faint brush of his lips against yours makes you shiver.

“What makes you think this is fake?” he says. There’s a quirk on the corner of his lips when he kisses you again. “Never seen people kissing before? Or are you just trying to convince yourself that this is fake?”

Jeongguk’s hands move from your face to hold your waist, where he squeezes lightly before once again capturing your lips in his. You let out a muffled yelp when his hands slide lower to hoist you up onto a washing machine. The kissing resumes, more smacking sound is heard, and Hyun’s presence gets pushed to the back of your mind. All you can think about is Jeongguk’s lips, how warm and plush they are, and how they are pulling away from you again.

The tiny whine you let out gets lost in Jeongguk’s grunt, still addressing Hyun: “Scram, bro.” When that gets no response, he adds for good measure: “Shoo.”

You hear Hyun click his tongue in annoyance and the stomps he makes while walking away after, but find yourself unable to focus on either as Jeongguk goes back to sucking your bottom lip. The reason why you’re doing this definitely gets forgotten as you let yourself be carried away in Jeongguk’s kisses.

When someone tears open the door of the washing machine next to you loudly, you tear yourself apart from Jeongguk. He’s panting lightly, cheeks flushed and lips kiss-swollen. He’s also smiling at you, pointedly ignoring the dirty look thrown by the only other person in the laundry room other than you two. You grimace at the person, bowing slightly as a pathetic attempt at an apology.

Then you face Jeongguk again. Who’s still flushed. Whose lips still glisten red. Who’s still smiling at you, this time with mirth in his eyes. You fumble.

“Uh, about earlier—“

“Do you want to get off the washing machine first?”

Uh, what?

Right, you’re still sitting on top of the washing machine. Hoisted up by Jeongguk’s hands. On your thighs. Then kissing, licking, sucking—

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You clear your throat, bracing your hands on the machine but Jeongguk beats you to it by once again taking hold of your waist to help you step down. Unfortunately, that means your legs haven’t caught up with your brain yet so they buckle like a pair of useless jelly underneath you. Again, Jeongguk steadies you with his firm hold, still with upturned lips.

“Woah, there. You okay?” He giggles—giggles!—eyes scrunching up into crescents. His hands never leave your waist even after you’re standing solid on your own two feet.

“Yeah, um, thanks.” You try to look at anything but him. “Listen, Jeongguk. I—“

“Wait, how do you know my name?” Jeongguk tilts his head, the unruly strands atop his head making him look like a puppy. “I never told you, did I?”

“Oh, Mingyu told me—“

“You know Mingyu?”

You lift your hands to place them on his shoulders firmly. “Let me finish first?”

Jeongguk smiles sheepishly, but nods to let you continue.

“Okay, um. I’m really sorry about earlier … the drama with Hyun and the— kissing…. I just couldn’t think and didn’t know what else to do. I’m really, very sorry.” You let your head drop, the weight of kissing a stranger starting to get to you.

Jeongguk is quiet. You’re conjuring up another speech of apology with some backstory to help you justify yourself, just in case he decides that your first apology isn’t enough.

“It’s okay.” Huh? “I liked kissing you, anyway.”

You choke on air. “Wh—at?”

“I liked kissing you.” Jeongguk smiles again, that same mirth still in his eyes. “You know, Star, for someone so confident in pulling me down for a kiss, you sure are stuttering a lot right now.” His smile turns into a teasing one. “Did you like kissing me too?”

The person next to you slams the washing machine door closed. “Get a room, people,” she hisses before walking out of the laundry room.

“Nice advice.” Jeongguk gestures to the retreating girl. “Should we, Star?”

Your eyes are round in shock, mortified at Jeongguk’s suggestion. Though, you suppose it’s karma for kissing a stranger only for your convenience. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, type of shit.

When you’re still frozen after five seconds, Jeongguk lets out a laugh. “I’m kidding, kidding! Oh, God, you look so scared. Seriously, though, it’s totally okay. You have nothing to be worried about.”

Despite the huge sigh you heave, you’re still not convinced. “Are you sure? I completely understand if you’re mad, though.”

“I’m gonna be mad if you keep apologizing,” Jeongguk says. “Or, if you feel that bad about it … you could pay me back with a date.”

This time, his smile is hopeful. “A date, where you could tell me your real name, how you know Mingyu, and the story about whoever the hell that was that interrupted our kiss.” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow teasingly. “Then, we could end it the way we started today … with a kiss. If you want?”

“Oh, well, if it’s to pay you back for the kiss, sure…” you trail off, feeling weird about how the situation has come to. “Damn, when you ask for my consent like that it makes me feel worse for not doing the same to kiss you earlier.” You physically face-palm.

“Since you feel so bad about that, do you want to ask for my consent now?” Jeongguk looks at you with his big, round eyes, appearing innocent like a child. You wonder if this is the same boy you just kissed some minutes ago.

“How, like, ‘Hey, Jeongguk, someone I don’t like just walked in, can I kiss you?’” you say, half giggling.

“Sounds like a mouthful, maybe just the last four words?” Jeongguk licks his lips.

You tilt your head in amazement, your lips curving up into a small smile. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes you can, Star,” comes Jeongguk’s reply, his hands going back to your jaw. He gives you a wink before dipping down.

“Yes, you can,” he whispers before kissing you once again.

Maybe now you’ll look forward to your weekly laundry schedule—after a day of two classes at campus and one shift at the coffee shop five bus stops away from where you live—on Wednesday nights.

Because on Wednesday nights, a certain boy with big, doe eyes and unruly hair does his laundry with his huge laundry basket and calls you Star. This Wednesday night, he kissed you—uh, you kissed him.

Next Wednesday night … you’d just have to wait and see.

a/n: thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed this drabble while we wait for bangtan to come back :')) also you can give me feedback here! :D

[spideyhexx]

12 am thoughts with kit;

sfw; billy bonney

A deep voice calls out from a few paces behind you.

"You good up there?"

You stretch out your limbs on the grass, the heat burning down on your skin. The grass tickles your ankles, but it's nothing more than a friendly embrace to you.

"Mighty good," you reply, leaning up against your elbows and tilting your head to see the culprit of the voice. One mister Billy Bonney, outlaw extraordinaire as you liked to call him.

"I never find you in civilization," he says, his drawl sounds somehow thicker than you remembered it to be. He plops into the grass next to you and places his hat on the ground, arms resting over his knees.

"You don't know me as well you think you do if you're searching for me in town."

Billy chuckles at that and shakes his head, glancing down at you. His eyes squinty and his forehead a little wet from the heat.

It's probably been about three weeks since you last saw him. He stopped around and begged for some bread, which you gave him. If only he'd get a wasp's nest down from a tree near your home. Billy did it, no questions asked.

"How've you been?" He asks, and he's watching you intently. His gaze doesn't look out over the valley ahead, or at the sky where you're looking. Billy is watching you.

"Same old," you start, "Heard of you less."

It's true. He had rumors about his name going left and right for quite some time, but he's laid low enough for now that you've barely heard a peep.

"Tryin' to go straight," he tells you. And that's when his eyes look elsewhere, almost like he's embarrassed to admit it.

You lay back fully down, eyes at the sky, fingers absentmindedly digging into the earth. "I think ya could," you say, glancing at him, noting the curls at the nape of his neck that stick to his hot skin.

"Maybe I gotta be like you. Out in the middle of fuckin' nowhere," he chuckles again, a sound you could get used to. Without thinking, he grabs your hand, the one that's closest to him.

Billy's brow furrows, wiping away the dirt you willingly let hold your hand. It flashes you back to when you first ever met Billy almost a year ago, half of him was as dirty as a pig sty and you were scrubbing your tub for hours after he used it.

"There's dirt in your fingernails," he mumbles, mostly focusing on your hand, but he can't help but try to get the dirt from your nails too.

You let him.

"And you smell like you haven't showered in days."

Billy flashes you a small smile and then gently sets your hand back in the grass, giving it a pat before his hand return to himself, tapping to his thigh. He's jittery.

"'S a little hard to when you can't stay in one place long. I like it though," he says, inhaling, then letting out a deep breath, shifting to lay down fully next to you.

"Going to different places?"

He nods. "I don't know how you can stay here. In one place, I mean," then he adds, "how anyone could." Billy's hand rakes through his hair and he looks at you.

You return his gaze, and prop yourself on your arm to see him better.

Trailing your fingertips on the blades of grass in front of him, you find the right one, the one yearning for you, then pluck it, showing it to him, "all of the grass is the same on a first sight, yes? But this is still an individual blade. There is always something important about every part of the land. Something new to learn, to think about, all when you're not able to travel. Gotta use this..."

You knock your knuckles on his head to indicate his brain.

"And why can you not travel?" He asks out of curiosity. If anything, you would be a person who would want to travel all the time. See nature you've never encountered, discover everything new the way he has. That seemed exactly like something you would want.

"I think the trees here would miss me," you tell him, giving a little shrug. You expect him to laugh. To pry more. To question why that was your train of thought. But he doesn't.

Billy just nods, his expression focused as he replies, "I missed you when I left, so I think I can understand the trees' feelins'."

You should not let yourself smile as much as you do at his words, but it's hopeless. Billy reciprocates it.

"Missed me? You probably missed my jam," you say, deflecting his kind words.

He rolls his eyes dramatically, bringing one of his knees up and knocking his knuckles on it. Still jittery.

"I did miss your jam, you're right."

You place the blade of grass in his hair, then you turn onto your back again.

"Think I could stick around for a bit?"

Billy says it quieter, he might be unsure. Or nervous. His jitters don't tell you anything because Billy's hands were restless all the time, even when he was calm. You can usually tell with him, but you're not looking into his eyes. They always told you everything.

"I could use a ranch-hand," you mumble, pretending to mull it over.

The sun continues to beat down on the two of you, the clouds in the sky doing nothing to stop the effervescent power of the ball of light.

And when he nudges you with his elbow, waiting for your answer, you feel that ball of light accumulating inside the pit of your stomach. You will it away, gripping the earth at your side to push yourself more to the ground.

"I 'spose you could. Company would...," you glance at him and he's already grinning, "be nice."

[gallusrostromegalus]

So how much are you willing to talk about Ulquiorra?

I will talk so much about him. There are so many things wrong with that man, but to make a brief list of his most notable features:

He's dumb as hell.

I say that with tremendous sympathetic affection. Ulquiorra barely thinks. It's easy for him to do nothing and go nowhere. He eats chocolate in the middle of the night in the dark. When he gets access to a garden, he often just stands around in it. He's often waiting for things to happen.

He just LOOKS smart compared to nearly everyone else in the fic because he doesn't have much to say, so he's not constantly opening his mouth to jam his foot down it.

Consequently, Ulquiorra starts off having little to no initiative of his own. Stuff just happens to him. Some of that is because he is colossally depressed, but he's depressed because the idea that he has control over his circumstances has straight up not occured to him.

The first person he meets that shows him that "You can just do whatever you want, forever" and the boundless joy it is to be a creature of free will is, unfortunately, Aizen. And Aizen left off the key corollary "-EVERYONE is allowed to do whatever they want, forever. We are all equal in God's dead, empty eye sockets."

So Ulquiorra wanders around trying out this "doing stuff" thing without any concept of ethics.

I realize I am infantilizing this character, but I am doing so in a twilight zone "hey, wouldn't it be fucked up to watch a fully anatomically functional person who is able to speak and blow stuff up with his mind go through the emotional development steps of a toddler?", because I think that's a fun high-concept premise to explore with him. Yeah, what if a toddler could speak articulately and also destroy you? How would he act? How does he feel, learning to have feelings?

It'd probably suck for him and everyone around him, and make him very easy to manipulate, for one thing.

So I don't think Ulquiorra is evil, because evil takes intent. He is dangerous to be in the general proximity of, though

Like a horse

lose

in a hospital!

I love that sketch as much as the next person but if an IRL horse got loose in a hospital it would be bedlam, but the horse would be mostly confused and probably willing to follow around the first person who looked like they knew what they were doing.

You know, like how Ulquiorra follows Aizen around because that's the first guy he's met who THINKS he knows what he's doing, and is good at convincing others he knows what he's doing!

So Ulquiorra's entire first character arc is being exposed to more and more people and realizing he does have control over his life, and that he can take actions, and that those actions have consequences.

Like being emotionally devastated by a teenage girl because he was an asshole to her and she's willing to scream at him about it.

Hm.

Consequences hurt.

He lives through the Las Noches arc, and decides to follow his own star!

He follows it right through a portal that was not meant for him and now he's sort of trapped in somewhere he's really, really, really, really, REALLY not supposed to be.

But it's a beautiful place

And nobody is forcing him to do anything.

And for a long time, he just stands out in the garden, waiting for something.

But then

Ulquiorra experiences a novel pair of emotions that he's recently learned from his new...

Orihime is too mad at him for him to call her a friend.

-but he did learn the names and therefore the experience of two new emotions from her: boredom, and it's natural remedy: curiosity.

So Ulquiorra's second character arc is him learning how to be himself without anyone telling him who he is and what he ought to be.

He's travelling up Maslow's hierarchy with the inscrutable but unstoppable instinctual drive of a salmon returning to its spawning ground.

This has lead to an important discovery on my part: Ulquiorra is terrific for comedy because he is the ULTIMATE straight man to everyone else's nonsense, because he's immune to nearly all nonsense.

He doesn't have societal taboos to be hung up on, nor any sense of what is "normal", so the sole thing he geta hung up on is a lack of internal consistency in others, meaning he can slip between straight man to the absurdist at the drop of a single scathing observation. Yet, he retains a sort of understated dignity that compels people to try to earn his respect.

Hence, I'm having fun turning him loose on the most absurd, internally inconsistent and frankly, insane batch of characters in the series:

The Royal Guard.

:)