#ANYWAY I have an excuse to get this book and something that I might actually be able to notice Tumblr posts

[hermitw]

I've been thinking about this reblog of yours for months and I finally figured out how to respond to it.

I went and read No Longer Human by Junji Ito and it was a very upsetting thing to go through. I don't think I can read it again. However, I came out of it thinking that Gege was probably inspired by it.

When Yozo is first introduced, I noticed that Takaba's backstory was very similar. Feeling isolated from others, he decided to become a clown to gain acceptance from others. (Citations in Image Captions)

And later when Yozo was caught "cheating" (it's in quotes because those women are child rapists), I noticed that her face was really similar to the one Higuruma's client made when he felt betrayed by the trial outcome.

There's probably a lot more to say about how themes surrounding CSA and suicide in this work are echoed in JJK, but I'm not able to make the post myself. No Longer Human is too far out of my comfort zone in terms of graphic depiction to delve into it deeper.

But you seem strong enough to handle it, so... Idk maybe run with this some more.

Ohhh this is so interesting! I could definitely read No Longer Human again - tbh I read Junji Ito's version years ago. This year I listened to the audio book and bought a copy - but it's like, a draft in the author's handwriting (bc I thought it would help me study Japanese and if I had an English translation that I'd read it on repeat lmao). But you're real for that - I forget how disturbed people tend to be trying to read through it, I'm sorry that was rough.

I did go back to read the reblog and idk how relevant all that was - I've reread the manga since and felt like, oh I might have been misremembering some things like Uraume - idk if they actually had a freeze response in ch. 219, since they did tell Yorozu to back off though it took a minute - but it's also interesting how their CT deals with ice. Like to have a fight response, they freeze others? It's so interesting but I can't be sure whether it's there at all. (ik that yap II inspired some more coherent posts, like how it influenced Choso's self-image, etc., I linked but didn't tag you back then bc I felt Annoying especially w heavy topics but I can definitely go back and find them if you'd like.)

On a twin peaks note (without spoiling it), I feel like it inspired jjk to some extent - I've been feeling like the last chapter will end the way s2 did. Or at least - with the weird dreamy themes, "we are the dreamer who dreams and who lives inside the dream", etc...

But you're right - Yozo and the others' reactions resemble more jjk characters than I would think to connect. Takaba's jokes are truly a shield... And now I have an excuse to read Junji Ito's version again? Thank u so much (also isn't it funny how September 28 Uzumaki airs and September 30 jjk ends?).

I think gege gets inspired by the most tragic stories, I wonder how much of that is accurate but I can't always be convinced otherwise.... Especially when anime / manga series that he's confirmed as influences often deal with autonomy in ways that I couldn't handle (Evangelion, the night beyond the tricornered window).

By the way - ik we've mentioned elfen lied before, but in the first episode, you know that coffee mug? How it looks like jjk foreshadowing? Even has snail head Mahito - cut off-, the baseball, Panda, the worm (also cut off).... and later the newborn babies that look just like Yuuji...

I swear that elfen lied, Kagewani, and banana fish influenced jjk. It seems so obvious w those, maybe Vampire Princess Miyu as well.

Sorry for getting off topic - I've been looking into why Momotaro keeps coming up in jujutsu kaisen, and in the end it came back full circle to that damn coffee cup. Invest in a baseball team? A zoo? I'm going insane.

All this to say - rereading Junji Ito's version and seeing if I notice similarities between manga panels is so exciting. Gege even made a note that he asked for permission before drawing - I think it was the Uzumaki CT - So we know he's a big fan of Junji Ito. And it seems like there is a rly good chance No Longer Human inspired him as well (though I feel like characters with similar traumas having similar reactions is inevitable to some extent, if they're written in a believable way, it should be clearer when I'm reading both stories in the same format) based on the stories he has officially referenced.

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Can someone come sit on my bed while I clean my room pls? Thanks and I love you <3

[chronicbitchsyndrome]

i have been in community with profoundly developmentally disabled peers and peers with brain damage my whole life, bc i had a childhood diagnosis. i have also been leftist my whole life; my mother was a marxist and raised me that way, and while their politics were absolute dogshit, they were lefty dogshit.

my entire life, i have seen leftist educators throw mentally disabled people away as "lost causes" because they couldn't engage with the material the way it was being presented. leftist outreach and education does, genuinely, have a massive lack of accessible material. to be blunt, people are not interested in retrofitting their leftist outreach to be accessible to people who learn best through episodes of sesame street.

as in, i have repeatedly faced outright laughter and cruelty over the idea that this could be a priority. or even something that we consider doing at all.

"people who are that mentally disabled don't need to know about these things," the kindest interpretation goes. ("people who are that mentally disabled don't interact with the world, anyway, they're all in institutions or monitored 24/7 by their parents," the uncharitable underlying assumptions go. "they wouldn't be a worker who needs a union. or a library attendee. or a member of the community garden. or a volunteer at the food bank. or or or")

the people i have seen this hurt the worst, over and over again, are profoundly mentally disabled people of color whose lack of access to accessible antiracist education is causing real danger in their lives. institutionalized disabled people of color who have learned racist ideology and behaviors from white authority, whether they were adopted by white families or incarcerated in care institutions run by white staff. who are treated lower than garbage by leftist educators, who view them as "lost causes," as unworthy of time and effort and attention, as deserving of their abuses because they... what... internalized the abuses that make up every aspect of their lives since birth?

i see people saying things in this conversation like "disability isn't an excuse for racism or transphobia or whatever, people have the obligation to improve themselves." oh, believe me, i have seen again and again how many privileged disabled people utilize their disabilities to punch down on others, try to escape accountability for their punching down by citing disability. but individual weaponization of identity is just that: weaponization of identity.

the power structures at play are what they are. it is a noble and admirable goal to want leftist outreach and education to be more accessible to all. if that is truly your goal, you must eventually reckon with the existence of people who do, actually, really need it presented in a picture book. or an episode of bluey. or a conversation where you only use examples of people they know in real life, using things that happened to them personally. the existence of people who cannot grasp forms of abstract reasoning, who need information presented as rules, or as guidelines, or as categories. the idea that yes, fully grown adults who need daniel tiger to explain racism to them are human beings who not only deserve access to that very thing, but who also deserve to be a part of leftist spaces and benefit from leftist organizing. are people for whom it might be INTEGRAL they get to be a part of leftism. are victims of racism themselves and suffering without access to antiracist spaces and community and support.

and you will need to reckon with the abject cruelty of your peers who laugh and mock the very idea of this. you need to reckon with the fact that a lot of people you respect, a lot of leftists doing genuinely good work, will respond to this by making fun of the people you're serving, even outright telling you their violent fantasies about these people. that is the experience of organizing in leftist spaces for profoundly disabled people. that is why so many of us burn out so fast. there IS a structural problem with mentally disabled people being seen as disposable and not a part of community. and it is EXTREMELY present in leftist organizing and outreach efforts.

[starkwlkr]

hello may i request a logan x reader fic where they co-parent and take care of laura? it can be in an au where laura goes to school but she keeps getting herself into fights and stuff. Just thought it’ll be cute to see a family dynamic between them hehe

little family | old man logan

an: keep the old man logan requests coming 😫 i love dilfs

mutant!reader (again, same as logan 😍)

You were at work at the local library when you got a call about Laura. The young girl had gotten into another fight. She was truly a spitting image of her father. You apologized to your manager and excused yourself so you could go meet Logan at the school. Your relationship with Logan had come to an end, but you still cared deeply for each other and for Laura.

You finally made it to the school parking lot where you coincidentally parked next to Logan’s car. You headed inside the school and from the entrance you could hear loud talking coming from the main office. It was Logan’s voice so you followed it.

Laura sat outside the main office in the chairs that were neatly arranged in a row. She looked at you then ran to you in need of her mother.

“Are you hurt?” You crouched down to her level and inspected her face for cuts or bruises.

Laura shook her head. “No.”

“Was the boy being mean again?” Laura had told you about a boy that kept picking on her. Laura nodded.

You were glad she wasn’t injured. Now it was the principal you had to deal with. You told Laura to stay outside while you confronted the principal.

“How are you sure that Laura was the one to start the fight? The other kid could’ve swung first!” Logan raised his voice.

“Sir, this is the fourth grade. No kid should be ‘swinging’ their fists in the first place. We suggest you and your wife talk to Laura and perhaps look into other schools. Her teacher described her as unhinged and we can’t have—” the principal said.

“Excuse me?” You spoke. All eyes were on you now. Laura had poked her head into the office wanting to see what was going to happen. “Laura is perfectly fine. She doesn’t need this school. Don’t ever talk about my daughter like that ever again.”

Logan could see your claws slowly coming out of your knuckle as you approached the counter. He held you back by grabbing your wrist. “Let’s go.”

Just as Logan was guiding you out the door, the principal spoke again. “What is wrong with you people?!”

“Fuck off!” You and Logan shouted at her as you exited the office, Laura followed you with a small smile on her face.

Your little family of three headed outside. You were sure Logan wasn’t bringing her back to school. Maybe it was time to homeschool Laura. . .

“I can take her if you want to go back to work.” Logan said, taking out a flask from his jacket. He never really did care about school anyway.

“It’s fine. You can go back.” He exhaled, putting the flask back in his jacket.

“Actually, why don’t we go get ice cream? We haven’t done that in a while.” You suggested. Laura immediately turned to Logan and started pulling at his jacket. She loved going out with you and Logan for ice cream.

“Yeah . . . That’s . . Yeah, we could do that.”

So Logan drove in his car while you drove yours with Laura in the passenger seat to the nearest ice cream shop. At the shop, you told them about all the workplace drama and some new books you thought Laura might.

“You three are such a lovely family!” An elderly woman gushed when she saw you. “How long have you and your husband been married? I just celebrated fifty five.”

Before you could correct her about your marital status, Logan spoke up.

“Twenty five years, although it feels as if we’ve been married all this time.” He grabbed your hand from under the table and squeezed it.

“How adorable.” The woman said before saying goodbye and leaving the shop.

Laura looked at you and Logan with a smirk.As she was about to say something, Logan quickly stopped her.

“Just shut up and eat your ice cream, kid.” All you and Laura did was laugh. You loved your little family to death.

[venjras]

CHEATING TROPE - GOJO SATORU.

not my usual cup of tea but here we are. sfw, mention of cheating,

his gaze was always on you. whenever you were in the same room, even from opposite sides, his attentive eyes did not miss even the smallest of your movements.

funny considering the fact that he had a girlfriend. you had met him when they were already a couple, you had heard from megumi that they weren’t going to last long. opposite characters, in the worst possible combination ever, the only great thing was sex and as an answer that was already enough. probably the pressure from the parents had something to do with it too, hers was a powerful family that would benefit their business immensely. since one day it would become his.

anyway, now you were at the fushiguro house, you were there for a group assignment, the house was empty except for you and that raven head immersed in books. a small snort escaped your lips, continuing to write down the results of the research you two had taken the last two hours. you were sure that your head would end up exploding keeping up like this.

“toruuuuu, i don’t want to stay here. let’s go home, my parents are waiting us for dinner.” fuck, no. that high-pitched voice was capable of piercing your eardrums like nothing. a roll of eyes and the kitchen door swinging open revealing their figures behind it. gojo and his bimbo girlfriend who was clinging to his arm, almost as if she were an extension of him and depended on it to survive. now the idea of ​​going back to your house was even more inviting. he went to ruffle his younger cousin’s hair, who muttered something inaudible in response. “you’re such a nerd, at this rate you’ll become a book yourself.” he added with a laugh, then pointed his gaze at you from under the thick sunglasses he always wore. time to realize it and the girl was already pulling him by the arm, muttering as if she were a child extremely in need of attention.

breathe, breathe, breathe.

“do you still keep the chemistry book in your room? we might need it for a more in-depth study of the last part.” you don’t even bother waiting for an answer, leaving the room, which had become too narrow by now, and heading upstairs. running away was your only chance, otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten out alive. there was something that was digging under your skin every time you met them, you still had to figure out what, but when you thought you were getting the solution it was as if your mind refused to process it. now you were safe, in megumi’s room looking for a book that you remembered perfectly well that he had forgotten at school, the perfect excuse to waste more time looking for it.

“running away won’t get you anywhere, you know that right sweetheart?” the deep voice echoed in your ears, hitting straight to your head. straightening your back and continuing to search on the desk, moving various papers. “it will definitely take me away from the beautiful voice of your girlfriend who, in my personal opinion, isn’t particularly pleasant.” the answer was immediate, spontaneous, perhaps too much so. seeing out of the corner of your eyes that a sly smile was making its way onto his lips. “actually, if you allow me, I’d go down and save gumi before his eardrums shatter in a million pieces.”

you go to the door but his figure doesn’t move, taking up the entire frame and preventing you from passing. now you were face to face, the perfect moment to realize how he had abandoned his glasses and now his crystalline eyes were fixed on you only. bad, bad idea. you try to pass through the small gap on the right but he promptly covers it with his long torso, making your eyebrows gather. “may i?” you move closer but nothing, he doesn’t show any signs of moving back, on the contrary. he crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking at you amused. “and what if i don’t want to?” he tilted his head to the side, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. you could do nothing but sigh, placing a hand on his chest, trying to move him but instead feeling only the mass of muscles stiffen. marble, that's what it could be compared to. this must have been the result of who knows how much training.

hold your thoughts, hold your thoughts.

“i want a kiss.” he said it so calmly that you almost had a fit, you must have heard wrong and your expression clearly betrayed your confusion. you saw him lower himself to your height, remaining just a few centimeters from your face, you felt his breath on your cheek. “i want a really nice kiss and after that i’ll move." this time the words reached your ears clearly, there was no possible misunderstanding.

and everything happened too quickly to even realize. his breathing getting closer and closer, the bodies that seemed to attract each other like magnets, he finally detached from the doorframe and obviously you saw an opportunity and took it. you took advantage and moved him enough to have a space to pass, exiting the room and with your foot on the first step. “you can do much better than that, toru.” you said that name purposely with the cadence of his girlfriend, shooting him a wink and rejoining the two in the living room.

the cheating trope had never been your favorite anyway.

maybe i’ll do a part two, i don’t know yet.

©️ venjras.

[cherryredstars]

omg hi cherry!!! yay yay yay I'm so excited requests are open! I love your writings ❤❤❤

Mkay so I was wondering if you would be into writing something more fluffy (I mean you can put smut if you want, lord knows I'm not gonna complain 🤭). I was thinking maybe reader is a teacher, and Gabriella is in her class at school, so she meets Miguel that way. And like over time he just keeps making excuses to see her, even though Gabriella's grades are actually totally fine— he's just so down bad lmao

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reder

Warnings: Fluff, Last Line is Suggestive

A/N: Hi, lovie! Thank you!!!

Unedited

You're fucking stunning.

Standing there in a pretty little dress, skin glowy from summer vacation. Got one hell of a smile on you, too. It has Miguel antsy as he waits in line to drop Gabi off for her first day, his hands tightening around his daughter's book bag as his eyes study every little move you make. Eyes zeroing in on how the wind plasters the back of your dress to your legs, your hands catching the front of it to prevent the fabric from flying too high up. He's nothing but a lovesick puppy by the time he reaches you, nodding dumbly to your introduction as he marvels over the softness of your hand in his, and eyes dropping to the glossy tint of your lips. He has to stop myself from making a noise when you bend down to talk to Gabi, complementing her outfit and gushing about how excited you are to be her teacher this year. The sight is so fucking domestic and he has to stop the fantasies popping up in his head. He takes it as a god-given sign that you're meant to be his when you start to get up, only to grab onto Miguel's shoulder as two little kids come running and bumping into you from behind. He'd be one hell of a lousy man if he didn't jump at the opportunity to grab at your waist and pull you closer to him to 'help steady you'.

Any day that Gabi comes homes with a little paper asking for parent help at a school event for her class is one hell of a lucky day for Miguel. Instantly jumping at the opportunity, signing up the seconds he reads it. Can't miss out on a single opportunity to see how you treat Gabi like she's your own kid or be close to you. Fucking loves how flustered you are every time he takes something off your hands, encouraging you to leave all the heavy duty labor to him so you can focus on the kids. He's always offering to do something for you. Something in the classroom is broken and the school's maintenance is taking too long to fix it? Oh cariño, why didn't you say something sooner to him or Gabi? He'll come in during your lunch break to fix it up while the kids are at recess. Sweet little thing needs help putting up decorations around the classroom? Oh baby, what do you think big, large men are meant for? He'll stay after school Friday and put everything up, just sit and be pretty as you help Gabi with her math homework. Sad that you need to buy new supplies for the classroom but they don't fit into your budget and you feel bad having to ask the parents to donate supplies again? Oh doll, send him a list of anything and everything you want and it's yours, pretty ladies like you don't deserve to worry about things like that. He'll even give you his number so he can buy you lunch.

And when you blink up at him with your sparkly doe eyes and ask, "What can I do to repay you, Mr. O'Hara?"

Fuck.

If you aren't careful, he might just have to buy you a pretty little ring. And, by next school year, you'll be introducing yourself as Mrs. O'Hara.

Maybe he'll even give you a kid of your own while he's at it; Gabi's been bothering him about a baby brother, anyways.

[stolenviolet]

ok ok i just stumbled upon your baby death au (and im feeling things idk what)... and just wanted to ask, what is voldy's relationship with harry here? not sure if i made sense but eh im curiousss-

You made perfect sense!

(And I hope they're good feelings? Maybe?)

As for their 'relationship' in this AU (my version anyway) well… let's just say it's complicated haha

To start, they basically just co-parent Death.

Obviously, they can't stand each other in the beginning. Being, y'know, enemies and what not, on top of navigating peace talks and treaties to end a war, isn't exactly a recipe for romance.

So yeah, nope! No butterflies in the stomach for these two (yet).

However, raising a kid together kind of forces them to adapt to one another, and that's when they start to notice the little things.

Harry notices Voldemort takes his tea straight in the mornings but prefers it a little on the sweeter side in the afternoon.

Voldemort notices Harry's love of flying and that he tends to get a bit antsy if he hasn't touched a broom in a while.

Harry notices Voldemort, while great at most things (his words not Harry's), is actually a pretty terrible cook.

Voldemort notices that Harry can only really sleep with the doors open or if there's another person in the room.(trauma from being locked alone in a cupboard, I'm sure.)

Both notice how, despite not having the best childhoods themselves, they ultimately want what's best for their son and tend to compromise on most things where he's concerned. (though this was incredibly difficult for Voldemort in particular to grasp. especially early on.)

Then came the lingering glances. The slight brushing of fingers when handing over a book. The casual teasing that leaves them both feeling bit warm.

Needless to say, eleven years of being domestic with someone, some type of affection was bound to take root and sprout. Not all at once, mind you. Voldemort is still, well…Voldemort, so there was quite a bit of emotional baggage to unpack (y'know the whole 'I killed your parents and tried to kill you' thing).

So it's not until their son leaves for his first year at Hogwarts, and they're truly left alone together for an extended period of time, that they both realize 'whoopsie! there might be more going on here than we thought!'.

Because now there's no lingering excuse of 'Well, clearly, we're only speaking/spending time with each other because Thomas is here'.

No. Now they both have to face the fact that something has been building between them.

And from there, things get a little, shall we say…romantic~

(kids out of the house, time for the parents to have some fun *wink*)

Long story short: Slow Burn, Enemies to...Co-parents? to Lovers.

[penkura]

I'm back with more traffy brainrot.

So I LOVE avatar the last airbender. I was thinking.

What'd happen if law met someone like toph?

Reader is blind. But can see through her feet, the thing is, she's strong on any land but HATES getting on ships because the only thing she sees is the ships interior not the outside which is the ocean, she fears with a little push she MIGHT fall over. Also, when they first met, reader may or may not play the "I'm sorry I'm blind" card and steal a hefty amount from the crew and running away faster than any of them combined lol.

I just imagine reader being innocent until she isn't lmao

I loooove Avatar omg, I still need to sit with my dad and finish the live action Netflix series, but the original series has a special place in my heart. I really liked this prompt, I hope I did it justice for you!!

“I’m sorry, I’m blind.”

Law should’ve realized right away that it would be an excuse the moment he met you. He feels a little stupid now, having you strapped to a chair in front of him and his crew, the very people who tried to be helpful but that you stole from. Shachi questions if you actually are blind, waving his hand in front of your face though you don’t make any movements that you can see his hand moving. Penguin rolls his eyes and tells him to stop, as Law simply sighs over the situation.

You thought it was okay, you thought you’d get away with everything you’d grabbed, you didn’t know what the half of it was. You just snatched whatever seemed valuable and booked it, not caring that there was a feeling of guilt as you ran off that stupid submarine and back onto dry land, at least then you could see everything. You hated that you could only see the inside of that submarine, you didn’t even really want to be there but had flirted enough with one of the crewmembers (poor Hakugan) to get on board, knowing they must have some treasure after hearing they were a pirate crew, especially hearing it was Trafalgar Law’s crew. Even you kept up with the rumors and gossip, you knew he had a decent bounty on him, even at just twenty-one years old.

Your only mistake was staying aboard too late and grabbing his sword as something to sell, of course he’d notice that.

You thought you were fast but somehow he caught up to you, it must be a Devil Fruit you realize quickly. No one on this island could keep up with you even with your visual impairment, Law having powers is the only thing that makes sense.

“Captain, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Hakugan,” Law sighs again while his friend hangs his head with a small nod, “If she hadn’t grabbed Kikoku, we wouldn’t have known she’d stolen anything really.”

You tilted your head with your brow furrowed, confused on what he must mean. You had grabbed a ton of things, hadn’t you?

“Yeah,” Penguin laughs, shaking his head, “Grabbing all those medical supplies was a stupid move.”

“Guess it’s not that obvious that our ship has such a big medical ward, huh?”

You feel like an idiot now, embarrassment flooding over you as you listen to them list off what you’d grabbed, apart from Kikoku. Bandages, cough medicine, various medicinal drugs. You though ‘surgeon of death’ was just a moniker, not that Law really is a doctor.

You really wish you would wake up from this nightmare in your bed, you’d completely ignore the people talking about a pirate crew docking at your home island and go about your day. Part of you thinks you should have done that anyway, even when Law dismisses the rest of his crew to speak to you alone.

He's quiet for a bit, just as you are, until he crouches in front of you and sets a hand on your shoulder.

“You wanna explain?”

“…I really am blind.”

“I know that, I don’t doubt your disability,” he’s not like Shachi, questioning your reality or anything, he’s just wondering what your plan was, “I’m talking about stealing from us. If you had known it was mainly medical supplies—”

“I wouldn’t have touched any of it. I wouldn’t have bothered…”

“…so why did you?”

“…you would too to keep your home.”

Ah that’s it, you’re trying to stay in your house. It must be rent or taxes, he’s not sure, but the way you hang your head makes Law start to think.

“No one wants to hire the blind orphan. I’m not worth—”

“I think Ikkaku would be glad to have a roommate. We’ll go get your stuff in the morning and—”

“What? What are you talking about?”

The way you lift and tilt your head, blinking while Law smiles to himself just a bit.

Kind of cute actually.

“You’ll come with us, as payment for trying to steal our supplies and my sword. In the morning, you’ll take us to where you live, we’ll pay what you owe, gather your stuff, and you’ll come with us.”

“Why would you…?”

Law pats your shoulder lightly, you’re not sure why but it gets to you so much you start to cry. He doesn’t even give you a reason, letting you get your feelings out, as you start to nod.

“O-Okay…okay…thank you…”

“You’re welcome.”

You’ll have to apologize to that Hakugan guy later for leading him on like that, but it seems you’ll have plenty of time for that.

[justatypicalwizard]

A scrap from your book

Bakugo x reader, aged up, college! au, quirks don't matter, no warnings, just heartwarming

Roommate Bakugo who is forced to share a room with you for about three months due to unexpected construction works in the college apartment he occupied. The whole Bakusquad was moved to random rooms. To make it worse they were all shared ones. You agreed to take in a male occupant.

Roommate Bakugo who tries to spend as much time outside of the cramped college room as possible. He feels like he's kinda invading your privacy as well as just finding the whole situation uneasy.

Roommate Bakugo who has to complete a bunch of assignments but the library is packed in the late afternoon hours, the air thick with gossip, stress, sweat and annoyance. Bakugo finally wandered off to the dorm room to find some peace for his work.

Roommate Bakugo who spotts you always turn off your lamp and tune down the brightness on your laptop when he tells you he's going to sleep.

"You don't have to do that." He grunts, already wrapped up in heavy covers.

"I don't mind, you do the same." Because he does.

Roommate Bakugo who walks on you watching a film he loves. At first he just circles the small room mindlessly, more interested in the unwrapping dialogue between his two favourite characters than the laundry he's picking up.

"You wanna watch?" You ask, pausing the movie.

"No. I was going to do my laundry."

"I can wait, I can buy some snacks in the meantime, I was looking for an excuse to do it anyway."

So the two of you ended up finishing the film together, sitting on your bed.

Roommate Bakugo who talks to you more, geting used to the situation faster than he thought he would. You both sit by your desks working on the boring college stuff. He spotted you were trying hard, not slacking around and keeping most of your deadlines. Even if he didn't want to admitt it, he was impressed. Not that he didn't do the same, it's just rare to find a person who actually cares.

Roommate Bakugo who didn't know how to phrase a sentence. He was working on a piece of paper for the last two hours after an intense day of workout and his brain refused to cooperate anymore.

"Can I ask you for a favour?" Your face appeared from behind your laptop screen.

"Depends on what is it."

"I finished a short essay and I wanted to ask if you could read it and tell me if it makes sense."

Might as well take a break to refresh his mind. Bakugo read through the text and came to the conclusion that you were a good writer. A very good writer in fact.

"How would you say that in other words?" He asked after you were happy with your work, your laptop tossed aside as you lay on your bed scrolling through your phone.

You skipped to him, read through the sentence and gave him a paraphrase, one that he wouldn't think of himself.

"Thanks."

Roommate Bakugo who was eying you book collection for some time. You had a bunch. When he asked the two of you started talking and in went on and on and on. Finally, you stood up on your bed, the sheets dipping in where you stretched out to reach the highest shelve. Picking out a book you handed it to him.

"My favourite."

So he started to read it.

Roommate Bakugo who got a text from you that you wouldn't be back in the dorms for the night. After a shower he laid down in his bed, shirtless, with your book in hand. It was definitely worth it and he was way past the half already. Suddednly the doors opened only to reveal you, eying him up and down.

"The fuck you doing here?" Suddenly Bakugo felt a tad bit embarassed about his bare chest and lose sweatpants.

"My friend cancelled, sorry, you have someone over?" A small sly grin appeared on yoru lips.

"Jeez no, I'm just half naked."

"I don't mind." You shrugged, throwing your bag on the bed.

And what was that supposed to mean?

Nevermind. Bakugo wanted to get back to the story when he spotted something horrific. His hand gripped a nice chunk of the page, torn out of the book. He must have done it when you startled him with the grand entrance. It was readable as he only torn the cream white but it still looked nasty.

"Shit, I'm sorry." He didn't even look at you, opting on eying the damage, embarassement creaping up his cheeks for destroying someone's else belonging. One of yoru favourite belongings.

You came over, looked at the book and started to laugh.

"What's so fucking funny?" From embarassed Bakugo quickly merged into defensive.

"You look as if you killed my grandma. It's just a book." You saw that it didn't make him feel better, in fact the frown in his brows deepened. "I like my books being used. Lets treat it as a memory of you reading it. Give me the torn piece, please." Your hand reached out and he put the scrap into your open palm.

You skribbled something down on it using a pen fished out of your drawer. When you gave it back to him, the paper read 'Don't stress so much, dummy.'

"You can keep it." A smile brightened your face as you turned around to do other things.

Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that he kept that scrap in the back of his phonecase at all times.

Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that it took you roughly two months to steal his rock-like heart away.

[aeithalian]

What even are the ancient laws?

I've been meaning to get around to this one for ages.

Anyways! Good question, guys! Answer: nobody fucking knows. Sure, we have good ideas. The laws are mentioned every now and then as a "oh, no little mortal child I can't help you - that's against the ancient laws. But hey! You can help me."

Let's be honest: the ancient laws, while there might be legitimate reasons for some of them, have transformed into yet another way that the gods hold themselves as the high and mighty overlords of the world, and keep their mortal offspring below them at all costs. But... why? Are the demigods really that dangerous to the gods? The answer: yes, but not to the gods - to Zeus.

Let's start from the beginning and list out everything we know about the laws. I did the hard work, you're welcome:

1. Gods cannot steal each others' symbols of power.

2. A god cannot initiate a fight with a mortal.

3. No direct interference - gods are not allowed to interfere in the lives and ongoings of mortals or monsters.

4. No more than 3 people are allowed on a quest.

5. Harming the sacred animals of a god is forbidden.

And that's it. Those are the only true mentions of the Ancient Laws in the entirety of the Riordanverse (at least, the Greco-Roman books).

And I think we all know what the most important one is. Direct Interference is the only one we see Zeus actively enforcing (or at least attempting to). But why is that? Well, stealing another god's symbol of power and initiating a battle with a mortal are physically impossible for gods, and the ban on harming a sacred animal is very commonly accepted already, as it's a guaranteed way to get your ass whooped. And the rule about having 3 on a quest isn't really something Zeus is going to spare the effort to enforce - starting a quest with more than 3 will typically guarantee that you come home with only 3, if at all.

But Direct Interference is the most interesting law, simply because it's the one that our demigod narrators are affected by the most, either in the ways their godly parents violate it, or refuse to do so.

There's plenty of instances where this law has had quite a bit of impact on the story and relationships. For example, Hermes used this law as a major reason why he could not help Luke or prevent him from raising Kronos. But let's be honest: besides Zeus himself, Hermes might be one of the only gods that actually obey this rule, despite the fact that he wants to break it. Just off the top of my head, I can name an instance in the series where every single Olympian at least toed the line of violating Direct Interference, except for maybe Demeter. And I'm not sure Dionysus counts, since he has contact with his half-blood children because of his position at CHB.

But there's something interesting even about the ways these gods break the law of Direct Interference. In most instances, these interactions with mortals happen when the god is in disguise, or through dreams. And, based on how little it seems like the gods get punished for breaking Direct Interference, we can only assume that Zeus is not aware of when gods talk to demigods via dreams. I mean, he's probably aware that it happens: Apollo, Poseidon, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Hera, Ares (who occasionally follows the rule, but only as an excuse to not help a demigod out), Artemis (although she is subject to exceptions due to her domain), Dionysus, Athena (I think?), and Hades all do it at least once in the RRverse. I mean, you could also argue that dreams are a more indirect means if interference, but I can also see how that's an iffy argument at best.

So, what does this mean? If there is one thing I know about laws and rules in general is that people tend to break laws if the direct consequences of their own actions don't directly apply to them. Gods would probably respect the law of Direct Interference more if there was an immediate negative effect on themselves, aside from just the punishment.

Think of a law or a rule that people break all the time. Littering, for example. People do it all the time, even though it's bad. But why is it bad? A person who doesn't have a lot of forethought will drop a piece of trash and say 'hey, that doesn't affect me. The planet will suffer and this will be a pain in the ass to clean up, but I'm not the one cleaning it up, so why do I care?' If you don't care about the planet or other people cleaning up your trash, the only reason you have to not litter is that you're afraid of the punishment.

I think the attitude towards Direct Interference is similar. The only reason a god would obey is if they're afraid of the punishment, or if they respect Zeus enough to follow his laws (which, clearly, is not the norm in godly society). And even then, what is a punishment to an immortal being? The only way Zeus punishes gods that really matters to them is turning them mortal - and that's a very rare occurrence.

By that logic, we can assume that a violation of Direct Interference does not actually negatively affect gods all that much. To be honest, it doesn't negatively affect mortals either. Maybe monsters have the short end of the stick, but monsters didn't write the law of Direct Interference - Zeus did. So... why? Why does it exist?

My first thought was the Fates and prophecy - if gods can interact in mortal life without recourse, then it might fuck with the way the Fates operate. But gods have been interfering for the entirety of civilization. If they really had a the power to alter the future just by dipping a toe in mortal life, don't you think it would have been obvious? Even in the RRverse, there are plenty of instances, as I've mentioned, that gods have interfered in a quest, and said quest wasn't severely fucked over because of that interference. Take, for instance, Percy's quest to save Artemis - Apollo intervened, but where were the consequences of that? Where were the earth-shattering effects?

So what gives? Also, I'd argue that the gods would actually obey the law more if they knew it had such a negative effect on the proper functioning of the Fates, especially Apollo since that's his domain. So I'm going to say that's not the case.

So we're back to the first question: why does the law against Direct Interference exist if it has no effect on the gods or the Fates? In all references to the law against Direct Interference in the Riordanverse, never once is it explained why this law exists. Why would Zeus create it if violating it doesn't have some major world-ending effect? Gods are gods: what could make this law so important that it's the only one Zeus makes a true effort to enforce?

Well, it makes sense to me that Zeus would create the law if he's the one who has to bear the immediate consequences of it. Which raises the question: what are the immediate consequences? What reason could Zeus possibly have to separate half-blood children from their godly parents? HMmmmmmmMMMM.

Well, there's another interesting thing about the Ancient Laws: some of them don't apply to mortals. Mortals can steal a god's symbol of power, and mortals can initiate battles with gods. Imagine with me a scenario in which your enemy has an army that is not subject to the same laws you are. Gods are (as far as I know) physically incapable of stealing symbols of power and starting battles with mortals, but what does that matter if they have half-blood children that reach the power of minor gods, like Percy, who can do that for you?

It's a terrifying premise, if you're Zeus. And before you start telling me that I'm going down yet another far-fetched rabbit hole (listen - I always make sense in the end), we've seen Zeus go down this line of thought before, all the way back in The Lightning Thief. Remember???

Chiron said that the reason Zeus blamed Percy for stealing the Master Bolt was because the mines the Cyclopes used to forge the bolts is close to Poseidon's domain, and he thinks Poseidon has it out for him. Now, there's a theory running around the TOA fandom that gods can control how much power they hand off to their children (as seen with Apollo's children, who rarely inherit the power of prophecy, which we're willing to bet is something Apollo is controlling from behind the scenes), and if Zeus knew that Poseidon had had a child, it's possible Zeus thought Poseidon was trying to create a super-child just for the sake of overthrowing him. I'm willing to bet that one of his greatest fears is that an über-powerful child of one of his brothers would be used to steal his symbol of power and then overthrow him. He views demigod children like weapons that his enemies can use because they could be inherently dangerous to the standard structure of godly society. His main fear is somebody with the motivation of Luke having the power of Percy. And what do paranoid kings do when presented with the idea of their greatest fears? Make laws against them.

The only way Zeus could be sure that Poseidon would never intentionally have a child like Percy, then bring him under his wing just in time to start a rebellion against him is to ban that kind of interaction at all.

Counterpoint: you could also say that the law against Direct Interference was a way to protect the mortals against the gods who might harm them or do them dirty. Like getting women pregnant while in the form of a swan. Ahem ahem. Do you get my point, though? It's not like Zeus has any real reason to protect the mortals in this way, since he was one of the main perpetrators anyways, but it is a damn good excuse if he also wanted a reason to prevent a potential revolution led by demigods.

Now, if you'll bear with me for a little bit longer, there is one more interesting thing I'd like to point out: In the entirety of Trials of Apollo, Apollo (a god, obviously) only mentions following the Ancient Laws once. Unsurprisingly, at the time he's mentioning the law against Direct Interference, he's also violating it - when he kills Commodus to save lives, Rome, and for his own peace of mind. So, to me this basically means that Apollo doesn't give two single shits about following laws against Direct Interference.

Connect that with everything else we know about Apollo post-trials: he loves his kids, doesn't want to see them hurt, and is trying to distance himself from Zeus and godly society. Even pre-trials, he doesn't have any trouble admitting that Zeus makes his rules and laws difficult to follow - nobody is good enough in Zeus' eyes. I truly believe, if there's any person who, given the proper means and motivation to overthrow at least some aspects of the Direct Interference law, he would.

Just saying. Feel free to add on if anybody else has more thoughts!

[a masterlist of my other metas]

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol

Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl

If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

-------

Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.

The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.

The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.

Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."

"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.

"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."

"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."

Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."

Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.

He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).

That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.

This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.

She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"

"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.

Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.

"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."

"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"

Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."

A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.

Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.

"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.

"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."

Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.

The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.

She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."

Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.

It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.

‐-----------------------------

Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.

That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."

After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."

Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.

When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"

Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."

Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"

In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?

"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.

It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.

They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.

A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.

Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.

The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."

What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."

Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.

Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.

After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.

"They usually don't fight at all."

Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.

Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.

He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"

With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.

"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.

"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."

Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.

"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."

"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."

The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"

"Gotham."

"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."

[aureliqs]

Burn-Out

Pairing : Remus Lupin x f!Reader

fluff, comfort, some angst I suppose

Warnings : Burn-Out, depressive episode, anxiety, feelings of emptiness etc. Heavy topic

I want to help, to comfort and give hope to everyone who sadly had to experience (still is experiencing ) this like me <3

Content: Your boyfriend Remus decides to say something about the state you’ve been living in, as he is extremely worried about you.

Authors note: This one is a comfort story based on my own experiences, so you might experience burn out or any other mental health struggles very differently. Your experiences are valid. You deserve to rest and heal. Take breaks. Nothing is as important as your health and happiness! I know it’s hard, but it’s worth it <3 (I’m still learning that too :3)

The finals are killing you. There is no other way to describe it. No time to waste. You’ve got a study plan to use your time efficiently, and if you stick to it you might even get ahead of it too. Everything’s going according to plan. Still, you don’t really feel anything anymore. You don’t think you even really have time to feel. You’re always up in your head thinking about what to do next. Every point crossed from your to do list gives you this rush of adrenaline, only to instantly feel empty after ready to chase the next high.

Reading a romance book before bed, while giggling and slightly swinging your feet happend less and less. Even if you wanted to, there’s just no energy left at the end of the day, or any time of the day if you were honest. Besides, what’s the point of reading anything like that. It’s not really useful in any way. Entertainment isn’t helping you with the finals.

Yeah, it’s just not “useful”

That has become your main excuse if you were honest deep deep down, but you aren’t. How could you ever be? There is just no time. If it isn’t potions, it’s charm. If it isn’t charms then it’s transfiguration. There is always something.

Something to avoid thinking. Now it’s just doing. Doing what you’re supposed to do.

Piece by piece it chipped away your personality. At first it wasn’t as apparent. No one noticed, especially not you. Gradually though, you’ve become an empty shell of the person you used to be. There’s no use in these things, like reading, drawing or just having a chat with people.

Even if you wanted to chat with others, you didn’t have a lot of energy. Can’t say you haven’t tried for their sake, to not disappoint or worry anyone. Still, you’re just different.

Not yourself.

But also not anyone else.

You just became empty.

You weren’t always… but you are now.

Your friends stopped asking you to hang out, as you’ve always declined anyways. They just assume your always to busy for them. The marauders also stopped chatting up with you from time to time, since you were always liked up in homework, and no one dared to disturb you. Especially since you got very snappy most of the time.

Your boyfriend Remus was the first one to grow really worried though. Your date rate dropped slowly but surely down. The random chats about each other’s life’s declined as well. Everything is just so serious now. What hurt Remus the most though was that you stopped laughing. By Godric you even stopped smiling. It was Remus most favourite thing in the world. Seeing you happy. It just stopped. You just stopped being you.

Remus and you studied together in the library a lot. You still do that now, but even that changed. It’s barely chatting now, as you’re always so sunken into the topic you’re studying. You barely listen, and give shorter responses than ever before. After studying, you usually rush to do the next thing on your to do list.

Remus misses you.

Remus misses the actual you.

Once again, Remus and you were piled up with books in the library late at night. You were all alone, as most people would rather sleep this late. Not you, you were focused on your goals, and Remus tried supporting you. As you were scribbling down on your paper, lost in thought, Remus finally had it. He couldn’t bear it anymore. Missing you is one thing, but seeing you this miserable was another. Another thing he’s not able to tolerate.

“Y/n?” He muttered. He looked to his left, where you set next to him still lost in thought.

“Y/n?” Remus repeated. You came to your senses and looked at him, fairly confused.

“Yeah, what is it Rem?” You looked blank, waiting for a response.

Remus looked deeply into your eyes. “I am really worried about you y/n. You’re always stressed. You don’t enjoy anything anymore. You’re always tired. There’s no happiness left in you.”

This hit you like a train. You just thought to yourself after the finals everything will be alright. This is just a phase. Now, it hit you. You’re not okay. You look at Remus, frozen in anxiety. You don’t know what to do, or even say. You’re stuck in freeze.

Remus goes on “please, we can talk about everything. I can help you. I miss you so much. I don’t even know who you are anymore. You don’t laugh, by Godric you don’t even smile anymore. I’m just so worried.” The last sentence came out all wobbly, like he was choking back tears himself.

That made you realise how much your behaviours where not just impacting you, but also him and likewise your friends. Everything that made you happy you’ve chipped away yourself. It was all in favour of a “greater good”, your achievements. But was it really for the greater good? Or did you just sacrifice yourself?

Tears starting to form in your eyes. The growing feeling of sadness in your chest was growing heavy. So, so heavy. Everything you’ve repressed lately boiled up all at once. You never took time to look at your feelings once, since you could always distract yourself with more things to do. It’s like a rabbit hole. You go deeper and deeper, until you realise how incredibly deep you actually are.

Tears started streaming down your face.

You’ve felt them running down your cheeks, to the point where they even dropped down your chin and onto your clothes.

Remus eyes widened in shock. To him this reaction made it all the more serious. You were suffering silently. Drowning in this ongoing state of stress. Working day and night to keep down the pain you were feeling behind your achievements.

Remus put his arm around you, and pulled you in close. His other hand found its way behind your hand, gently pulling you into his chest.

As more tears streamed down your face, all you could produce was a wobbly” I’m sorry… I’m so so sorry…”

“Don’t worry… you’re not alone. I should have said something earlier.” Remus stroked over your back, while giving you a kiss on your head. Regrets filled Remus heads, about how far he let you go down this hole. You just can’t look into someone’s head.

“I’ve been so anxious about the finals. I thought if I do enough I can make it.” You continued to sob.

“I understand, I really do y/n. You’re not alone”

“I just feel like I need to do all of this. If I don’t, I will fail.”

“Y/n..” Remus looked deeply into your eyes. He has the most compassionate eyes you’ve ever seen. “You’re more than what you achieve. People love you for who you are. The way you speak, the way you laugh, the way you are”

Remus always had a way with words. What he said felt like it reached the depths of your heart.

“We’ve been missing you. I’ve been missing you.”

“Thank you Remus. I’ve been missing you too” you replied while a tear was rolling down your cheek.

“I love you”

You felt something. Love. Love for your boyfriend who tried to hard to help you.

“I love you too”

You forgot how it is to feel. You forgot to just be, and not plan every next thing to do. You’ve missed to live in the here and now with Remus.

“I promise I won’t let you alone with this.”

“It’s just so hard. How to I even begin to…to be less stressed.” Your voice was still shivering. You felt so fragile.

“I’m not exactly sure either, but we’ll figure it out on the way” Remus grinned at you. This smile could melt the entire North Pole, but right now it just melts your heart.

You just nodded, still processing everything that just happened.

“For starters, let’s go to sleep. No ones studying besides us right now, and to be fair we seem quite nuts to do so”, Remus said with a chuckle.

You’ve laughed. You’ve laughed again. His sarcastic remarks were always the best. Maybe you didn’t loose yourself after all.

“You’re very much right” you gave back with a slight smile.

Remus saw you smiling again. He couldn’t contain his excitement.

“See y/n, you’re smiling again”. His sweet grin broadened. “ I know we can fix this together.”

Remus kissed you on the cheek. After that, you’ve started packing up your things to go back ti your dorms.

As you are walking down the halls, you decide to ask Remus something. “Can I sleep at your dorm tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

Remus was more than happy to do so, especially since the lack of couple time was eating him alive. “Of course honey, but I warn you. James, Sirius and Peter haven’t cleaned up the room. To be fair, I haven’t really either”

You just laughed.

“I really don’t mind. I didn’t expect anything else Rem.”

You’ve both got ready, and laid down in Remus’ bed. All the other marauders were deep asleep, and to be fair very heavy sleepers. James only rolled around once, when you kicked a lamp on the floor, which gave Remus a heart attack.

As you looked at Remus in the darkness of the dorm room, you could only feel so thankful to have him in his life. Finally, you felt some of your feelings return. It’s still a long way to go but you were sure with Remus by your side, you’ll make it.

You kissed Remus, and just started at him for a second longer.

“Remus, I love you”

“I love you too, y/n”. Good night”

“Good night”

A yawn creeps it”s way up to you. After that you cuddle up to Remus. You drift away in mere minutes, and finally get the rest you deserve

Once again, take care of yourself. Take breaks. You deserve to rest <3

I hope you all enjoyed this. Leave me other writing prompts if you want to <3

[piosplayhouse]

Letting everyone know who doesn't have twitter, the planned English publisher for jwqs and fgep (as well as some other danmei that I'm not familiar with sorry) is in some crazy drama rn with another publisher who's claiming that they now have sole ownership of the licenses after the companies had a falling out. It's shady and unprofessional all around tbh, and both pubs have had previous drama before that was not addressed well (if you remember monogatari getting side-eyed for having a rising sun as its logo). I don't think anyone knows what the situation is rn, but I imagine that people who preordered any of the listed titles might want to cancel and ask for refunds if you're worried about the situation

Correction from the notes:

** also important to note that monogatari has a very bad track record with actually releasing books on time, which is something that's been brought up and now excused by them as being a result of the legal action they're facing (though this has been an issue for several months at this point and they've only updated fans now). It's also right to point out that it's weird that they just noncommittally say "published in the fourth quarter of this year" considering that we are In the fourth quarter of the year.. anyway I hope nangong jingnu comes alive and kills everyone involved

[mediumgayitalian]

At around half past one, Nico gets a Feeling.

He gets feelings a lot. Nothing he can quantify, just something telling him that something is up, somethings wrong. Or something’s about to be. At this point, he’s learned to trust his intuition, based purely on the number of times it has saved his life; a number he’s long since given up counting. (He’s only ignored his gut feelings three times in his life: when Bianca went on her quest, when his father promised not to hurt Percy before the Titan War, and when he went looking for the Doors. He has learned his lesson.)

So when something at the bottom of his stomach tells him to get up, to check things out — he does.

He knows it could be nothing. (The last time he had a Feeling, it turned out that he had placed a book precariously on the edge of his desk, and it had been about to fall. Not exactly world-saving stuff.) But regardless, he steps out of bed, shoves his feet into his shoes, and creeps out of his cabin.

Camp is kind of beautiful at night.

There’s an eerie calmness to it without so many human disasters running about, and the quiet reflects that. All Nico can really hear is the hooting of owls in the distance, the chittering of nocturnal animals and monsters alike, the distant screeches of curfew harpies, and the pleasant crashing of the waves. The air is clean, when he inhales, and he takes the time to hold it in his lungs for a bit, imagining the sweet breath is healing his burned lungs, turning the scar tissue back to something flexible and normal. Whether or not it actually works, he doesn’t know, but it feels nice.

Under the light of the brightly shining new moon and billions of stars, he starts his patrol. Around his own cabin first — there’s nothing, as he expected, the warning doesn’t seem overwhelming like threats tend to be — and then he makes his way around the circuit, checking behind gardens and shrines and inside braziers. He hums quietly as he walks, something preppy and bright the Apollo kids have been hollering for days, and waves to Lady Hestia, sword heavy at his waist.

“Come sit,” she calls, patting the seat next to her.

Nico does.

“Haven’t seen you out at night in a while.”

He hums, toneless this time, leaning back on his hands and mirroring her gaze at the sky.

“Been sleeping, for once.”

“I’m glad.”

He smiles, knowing that she means it. He watches out of the corner of his eye as she picks up his sword, sliding it from his belt loop, and uses it to stoke the flames. She doesn’t seem afraid of it, or wary. To her it’s just a stick of metal. It’s nice.

“You have you been, my Lady?”

She pokes at the embers a few more times, scooping a few to balance at the tip of the blade for a while. It glows with the heat, and he knows he’ll have to sharpen it tomorrow, but he doesn’t mind. Maybe he can do it while Will is in the archery range. It’ll give him an excuse to be at the armoury at the same time, anyway.

“I’ve been well.” She breathes deeply, small smile pulling at her face. “It’s calmer, and more people wave to me. I like it.”

“Good.”

She dismisses him a few minutes later, sending him off with a promise to chat again soon. She doesn’t need to worry about him promising — he makes a point to sit with her at least once a week — but it’s nice to know someone wants his company, so he appreciates it. He leaves with a wave, walking towards the eastern half of the cabins.

Nothing’s amiss. He can hear campers snoring, and see the odd reading light. Malcolm catches his eye as he walks past the Athena cabin and winks, sending a cheeky salute when he sees the sword held loosely in his hands. So far, everything seems fine. He’s beginning to think the Feeling might have simply been about Lady Hestia, so he decides to do one last check around the Big House and then head back.

Of course, that’s where the issue is.

The infirmary lights are always on. They’re dimmer in the night, more of a glow than anything, but there’s an extra brightness streaming out from the windows, and when Nico peeks inside, he sees Will, standing with his back turned at the nurse’s station.

He takes a moment to check his strength, making sure he has the energy for it — dinner last night was pho and he had three bowls, he most definitely does — and sinks into the shadows by the door. He materializes back in the little alcove by the bandage & wraps cabinet, lurking silently while he blinks the dizziness away.

The first thing he registers is soft singing.

He’s facing Will, now, and can see the glow coming from his hands, enveloping a bowl of some kind. He has both hands coated in some dusky pink substance, massaging and gently pounding it against the sides of the bowl, working it through with great care. As his voice gets higher, the glow gets brighter, fading as he dips lower. He sings something about hills and meadows and the breeze, about wing-song, about the sound of flower stems bending in the wind. For a while Nico stands, listening to the melodious ancient Greek, swaying with every pitch and hold. It’s captivating.

Will is almost haunting when he heals.

There’s a divinity in him — in all of them — but he glows when he sings. Not just his hands, and sometimes his head if he puts enough power in his words, but there’s an almost shimmer to the air around him, a shining warp. His skin gets clearer, and his hair goes more metallic, almost, like spun gold rather than blonde. His freckles make his skin into an inverse replica of the night sky, dark specks surrounded by bright empty between them. His long fingers pluck through bright strands of light like a harpist strums their chords; lightly, carefully, skillfully; like a braider weaves their hair. There’s an undeniable age to his magic, a practice that’s visibly replicated millions of times over thousands of years, as if every healer who has come before him links their arms with his, breathes their strength in his lungs. Sometimes, when he does something truly unbelievable, amazingly beyond reason, he flickers — his orange camp shirt fades into a white chiton, or long robes, or a white coat, or a blue tunic. Watching him heal is like watching the sunrise — breathtaking and unique, every time, but powerful in its cyclic archaism.

It takes Nico a long time to realise Will is swaying.

Snapped out of his trance, he begins to notice Will’s long, slow blinks, the unsteady way he stands, the weight he has leaned on the counter. Even his face looks plainly exhausted under the glow, face pillow-creased and eyes bruised, hair mussed, limbs leaden. Footsteps as silent as he can manage, Nico creeps over to the schedule posted by the door, scanning through the scrawled pen ink.

He curses quietly. Will is not supposed to be awake.

There are really only three people who can work the infirmary to its fully capacity, barring Chiron. Kayla, Austin, and Will are the only ones who can magically heal, as much as the volunteers are imperative, so when the camp is in full swing one of them must be stationed at all times. That’s how Will sets it up. A bit of a waste of time, he acknowledges, but Nico knows he has memorized every time a camper who should have been saved. He carries far too much guilt to ever let it happen again, as inconvenient as his rules may be.

Night shift, though, is a need-be basis. If the infirmary is as empty as it is right now, then there truly is no need to keep one of the three of them awake outside their circadian rhythm, staring at nothing. Instead, they take shifts in the on-call room — asleep, but prepared should anything go wrong, should a monster chase a new camper at an odd hour. It’s Will’s turn for on-call. It’s two in the morning. He should be asleep.

And, yet.

Nico recognizes the look in his eyes. There’s a — frailty, to them, a deep-seated, animalistic fear, one he recognises from the hours after his own night terrors. A single-minded panic that cannot be unseated in any logical way, cannot be comforted with any gentle hands.

Nico handles his fear with slashing swords and bruised knuckles. Will, he knows, handles his fear with obsessive, endless preparation.

Knowing full well nothing is going to drag him away from his focus bar actual cardiac arrest, Nico walks right by him. Will doesn’t move. He settles behind him in the old, creaky leather office chair, curling his legs under him and resting his head on the soft arm. He watches Will, watches the almost machine-like movement to his kneading arms, and falls back asleep to his humming.

———

“…Nico?”

He wakes up warm and a little cramped, in the same position he fell asleep. Sun is streaming on from the many issues, blocked from burning his eyes by Will’s hunched frame, facing towards him now, hands and shoulders shaking with equal violence.

“What time is it?”

His voice is croaky and wrecked from hours of singing. Nico is willing to bet his throat is burned as badly as his hands, cooked from non-stop, sun-borne glowing. The divinity that had emanated from him before has abandoned him and he looks young, lost.

“Early,” Nico says softly. He unfolds himself from the chair, stretching slightly — gods, he is going to ache today — and wraps a slow, careful hand around Will’s wrists. “Probably around six, if I have to guess.”

“I don’t remember waking up.”

“That’s okay.”

“I’m tired.”

“That’s okay.”

His breathing is heavy, laboured.

“I don’t —”

Nico squeezes gently. “It’s okay, Will.”

Will swallows and says nothing.

“Come on.”

Carefully, letting Will’s stiff joints set the pace, Nico guides him out of the infirmary. The sun shines brighter as soon as he steps outside, but he doesn’t seem to notice bar a tiny, almost imperceptible flinch at the change in lighting. Nico switches from holding his wrists to laying a hand on the small of his back, half-worried he’s going to fall over.

Luckily, he makes it to the Apollo Cabin upright, although the stairs take them a while. The hinges of the old screen door creak as Nico pushes it open, and he sees both Kayla and Austin, up and dressed, jump.

“…Will?” Kayla asks softly, eyebrows creased in concern. She walks over to him when he doesn’t answer, frozen still, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Will leans — almost hesitantly — into the touch. The same blankness from before clouds his eyes, although this time there’s less of the fear.

“Hey.” Nico walks over to stand in front of him, waiting patiently for him to meet his eyes. In the minutes it takes, he hears Austin pad over, standing opposite to Kayla, hands clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide what to do with them. “You think you can sleep?”

Will doesn’t answer verbally, but drifts after a moment to his bed. Nico follows, helping him out of his shoes and shirt. After a beat of hesitation, Austin hurries over, turning down Will’s sheets and helping him crawl in. Soft guitar music begins to play, and when Nico looks over Kayla is fiddling with the CD player, turning the dials carefully. Without much fanfare, Will’s eyes flutter closed, and his breathing slows to something deep and even. His twitching fingers still.

“I don’t think today’s an activity day,” Nico murmurs. “I checked up on him a while after midnight; he’d been at it for hours. He didn’t stop ‘til sunrise.”

Kayla rubs harshly at her eyes. “Fuck.”

“He’ll be okay,” Austin whispers. He runs a gentle knuckle over Will’s forehead, then turns his careful, imploring gaze to Nico. “You kept an eye on him?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Nico inclines his head. “Had a feeling.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Kayla admits. “He was —” She trails off, staring at something in the left half of the cabin — the empty half. “He was like this after the Titan War, too. I think he spoke maybe two words for the entirety of September.”

Nico almost can’t imagine it. The very thought of it makes something twinge in his chest, clench in his stomach.

“We’ll figure it out.” He nods, to convince himself as much as Kayla and Austin, who look to him with way more trust than he deserves. “We won’t let it — it won’t get that bad. We’ll help, and if we can’t figure it out we’ll get help. It won’t be as hard as last time.”

It won’t be as hard as last time because there won’t be twelve shrouds, Nico doesn’t say, but he doesn’t need to. Both Kayla and Austin nod, looking at their sleeping brother with firm resolution.

“This time, we’ll be there.”

[lamnwar]

"Hey, babe."

"Hm?"

"Do you think we can get a dog?"

Taiga raises an eyebrow at you, facing your pleading eyes, that look on your face he only sees when you ask for him to take you out on a nice dinner.

"Are you serious, babe?"

"Dead serious."

He stares back, thick eyebrows torn in confusion at your sudden request, and one that makes no sense at all since...

"I'm scared shitless of them."

You laugh, a blatant mockery of your boyfriend and his irrational fear of dogs. You've been aware of it for a long time now; from the way he goes the opposite direction of anyone walking their dog on the street and how he stays on his guards every time you hang out at Tetsu's. The sight never fails to amuse you. Can it get more ridiculous than seeing a buff, giant man like your boyfriend shitting his pants in front of a creature which's not even a quarter of his size?

"Come on Taiga, we'll get a small one, maybe something chill like... a corgi?"

"Can't we get a cat?" he replies, still not convinced by, what is to him, an absurd demand.

"I'm allergic, you know that."

He sighs. He doesn't get it - where this sudden demand comes from or what even is the necessity for you to get a pet. As far as he's concerned, the two of you are well enough. So, what more can you seek? Is his company not enough to keep you from loneliness?

"What do you need a dog for, anyways?" he mumbles, a slight childish pout on his face.

You don't reply instantly, your gaze travelling away from his adorable face. The reason for your request is not a mystery to you, yet voicing it out scares you. It's just painfully embarrassing.

"Maybe you'd like a bigger breed? Should we get a German shepherd?"

He clicks his tongue, turning your face towards his, "Answer my question."

You remain silent, still not looking his way. It's not like Taiga would judge you for your reason behind this seemingly random request, but it's more that you don't like what it may reflect of you.

"Hey, babe. Not gonna judge, I'm just trying to understand. Y'know, depending on the answer I might actually be open for negotiation."

You laugh softly, a breathy sigh coming out of your lips as you finally speak, voice little.

"I... I want company so I don't feel alone when you're not home."

Your answer surprises him at first; eyebrows raised as he ponders what you mean by that. For all he knows, he's at home quite often, safe for the few times when he has to play abroad. Taiga's routine, overwise, is constructed so he gets to spend the most time with you. Morning in your arms, making sure he's home to cook a delicious diner for you every evening, and even going to occasionally pick you up earlier just so he has more hours to spend with you. And you are fully aware of it, which makes you feel terrible for being so clingy. You literally have no excuse, when your boyfriend is Taiga Kagami.

"It's stupid, I know." You groan, hiding your face in the palms of your hands.

"Nah pretty, I get it."

"Huh?"

Strong arms pull you towards your boyfriend's warm chest. He keeps you there, in a soft embrace as you feel his laugh rumble in his torso.

"I'd become a househusband if it meant spending all my days with you. So I get it."

"Yeah? Because there's that and also..." you pause, gathering your thoughts. "I wanna take care of something."

This time, though, he doesn't get it at all. You could mean anything by that statement, and for all he knows, it might have everything to do with him, or not. You grimace, not expecting to open up that much from what started off as a rather simple request - well, simple in your book, that is.

"I don't get to take care of you, since you're so independent. But I wanna care for something, have someone be dependent on me. Is that crazy?" you laugh in embarrassment, "shit, my shrink would probably put that on my mommy issues."

In all honesty, Taiga doesn't really know how to respond to that. It's not really that he's at lost for words, as much as he simply cannot comprehend what you are feeling.

He wishes he could though, and after a few minutes of silent reflection, he eventually does. Taiga grew up to be self-sufficient, and ever since you started living together, he's unknowingly started taking care of you, too. It's just a second nature to him, something he does without thinking about it too hard.

"That's why you want a dog, huh? well, I would rather have you take care of me" he says, a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

"Envious of our non-existent dog already, Taiga?" you chuckle.

"Honestly? Yeah."

He sighs, bringing you closer to him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You're a bit stunned by the sudden demonstration of affection, but your fingers automatically find his hair, twisting his red locks between them.

"I didn't know you felt like that, babe. But I don't want you to get a dog either. If you wanna take care of someone, take care of me."

You laugh softly, "then start needing me a bit, you do absolutely everything by yourself, s'not fair!"

He pulls away, looking at you curiously. Well, you're not entirely wrong, he clearly doesn't need you to clean after him, cook for him, or do anything of that sort. He even takes care of the spiders and other insects! So really, he doesn't need you for that. But at the same time, he'd argue that you're omitting one crucial thing which just you can tend to.

"Are you stupid? I still need your kisses. Want me to be more needy for them? I could absolutely do that!" he leans in again, face so close that you feel like he's taking your air all for himself. "Kiss me, I'm begging."

You stare back in surprise, flustered by his sudden request. Yet, some part of you feels warm by hearing these words. Maybe you do crave him begging for you, for anything that only you can provide.

Your lips find his softly, drawing a hum of satisfaction out of your boyfriend. If he's being a 100% honest with himself, he'll gladly admit craving your touch more than anything else. He leans in, grabbing the back of your neck almost in desperation, almost as if he wants to gobble you in. You giggle, pulling away and leaving a playful pat on his hair. Lovestruck eyes stare at you, making your heart bloom in a thousand of flowers.

"See? No need for a dog. I'll always need you for kisses."

[megamindsecretlair]

Hiii so ik Halloween is coming up! So I wanna know if you could do another jack the reacher fic! (Love that man) Basically y/n spend every single day with your bf except for Halloween. Y/n has been with him for 2 years now and it’s kinda getting old. So ofc this year like always he tells y/n to stay away from him on Halloween. He’ll suggest visiting your parents or hanging with friends at party just something to keep her busy until his little spell is over. Though what y/n doesn’t know is every Halloween he turns into a werewolf, demon, orc…. (Anything you want! Your choice of monster!) He definitely doesn’t want his precious gf to see that! He just can’t control anything while he’s in that mode and he definitely doesn’t want to be near y/n while this happens. He doesn’t wanna hurt or. ….break her. Buttttt y/n doesn’t listen and goes to see him anyways, she acts like she’s leaving when in reality we stayed just to see what goes on. At first the speculation was cheating…ofc our loving bf wouldn’t do that to us right..?? So the reader sneakily finally finds out what her boyfriend is hiding and BOY IS SHE IN FOR QUITE THE RIDE! *I have a cnc kink and manhandling kink, and I would love for the reader to just be bratty in general! Cause as you can see we don’t listen! 🤭 He should definitely put reader in a full nelson….sigh me and my delusions

Ps. Can the reader be black! And plus size thank you!

General Note: I do not, have not, and will never write non-con.

Pairing: Werewolf!Jack Reacher x Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. PWP, PIV, Cursing, SMUT, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, cum play, primal play, bratty reader, Sorry if I missed others. No spoilers for the show.

Summary: See Ask. With the exception of non-con. Halloween happened to be your favorite holiday and you wanted nothing more than to spend it with your sweet boyfriend, Reacher. However, Reacher had other plans that didn’t involve you. Upset with your plans ruined, you decided to disobey his strict order to stay at your parents’ house. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, you only knew that you wanted answers. Patience was never your strong suit.

AO3 Link

Word count: 5,847k

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive!! LOL.I have no excuses for myself other than WHEW!!! This broke me. I need to go hose myself down. Happy Halloween-Eve everyone! Enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Something was wrong with your boyfriend. 

You eyed him as he grew more antsy during the week leading up to Halloween, only your favorite time of the year. You loved the costumes, the makeup, the scares, and thrills. It spoke to your soul in a way no other holiday did.

Similar to last year, Reacher grew more agitated. Little things pissed him off. When he wasn’t working a case for the Army’s Military Police, he walked around like a bear with a thorn in his paw. 

He was never mean to you. Never snapped. Never treated you as anything other than his adorable girlfriend. Even now, on the actual holiday, he was putting together a bookshelf for you because your old one broke from all of the books you had. 

You sat on the floor beside him, handing him different screws and allen wrenches whenever he asked. You loved days like these. Loved seeing him domesticated. 

“I was thinking you might go with your parents again today,” Reacher said, unprompted. 

You blinked your eyes at him and tilted your head. “For…Halloween? Again?” You asked. 

“Yeah. You said you had fun last year so…” he said, letting the sentence dangle while he studied the instructions once more. He made it sound innocent, but your warning bells went off instantly.

Your mind trailed to the slutty nurse outfit in the back of your closet. You had…plans. You had an entire night planned of passing out candy to the kids until it got too late. Then you were going to take him to your room and give him some tender love and care. 

All of that flew out of the window…again. Last year, he made the excuse that he was in the middle of an important case and wasn’t able to spend the holiday with you. You knew dating someone in the military would have its ups and downs but you figured that living close to the base meant that he’d be around more. 

This year, however, you made sure that he hadn’t taken on any new cases. You gently steered him to take the time to rest. Not that the big brute knew the meaning of the word. He was like a machine, always moving forward. Never settling. You never wanted to dim his wanderlust but…didn’t you deserve to spend your favorite holiday with your boyfriend?

You could deal with everything else. You could deal with the missed nights, the long cases, the confidentiality. You trusted him. Yet…was he cheating? Was that it? Why this specific night? 

“Reacher, I’d kind of like to spend the holiday with you. I had a few surprises planned actually,” you said.

Reacher looked up from screwing in a shelf and looked at you. He was always so severe. Mouth pressed into a thin line and eyebrows raised like he wasn’t in the mood for any lip talk. He smoothed out his eyebrows and his mouth drooped into a smirk.

“I’m sorry. I know how much this holiday means to you. I have something important to do,” he said. 

“Like? Is there a reason I have to leave my own home for this?” You asked. He held out his hand for the next screw and you handed it to him. His palm was hot to the touch, hotter than normal. 

You looked back at him and really looked him over this time. Your boyfriend always ran hot but he was scorching. He was sweating a bit too even though the temperature outside was below sixty and dropping by the hour. 

“Are you feeling okay?” You asked. You leaned up onto your knees, letting your fluffy skirt settle around your thighs, as you placed the back of your hand to his forehead. You snatched your hand back with a hiss and rubbed it.

“You’re burning up! Do you need to go to the hospital?” You asked.

“I don’t get sick,” he said, his mouth lifting into a smirk. 

You huffed. “Everyone gets sick, Reacher. Even you,” you said. Though, come to think of it…you’d never seen him so much as sneeze. 

“I don’t get sick,” he said, leaning over to peck your lips. His lips were warm too but you welcomed the kiss and wished he’d ditch the bookshelf and come play with you. Ever the stickler for accomplishing his honey-do list, he leaned away from you and went back to assembling the bookcase. 

“I’d feel better if you were with your parents where your father can look after you,” he said. 

You sat back on your knees and huffed. “I don’t need a big strong man to look after me, Reacher,” you said. The last thing you wanted was to spend the best holiday of the year around your boring ass family. 

Your father had also been in the military and his hard ass didn’t understand anything he couldn’t see. Trying to carve out time for spooky shenanigans in a cold house full of rules and expectations was hard enough growing up. You always felt like a toddler retreating to your parents’ house, where your larger than life father treated you like his baby girl. 

And Reacher knew that. He stopped working and looked at you. “I just want you safe when I can’t look after you myself,” he said.

“Because…?” You asked. You needed a reason. He had to give you a valid reason. Because if this became an every year type of situation, you’d have to sit and talk with him about it. You didn’t ask for much. Reacher rarely denied you. So what was the problem? 

Reacher smiled and wiped his brow. He could claim he wasn’t sick all he wanted but he sure looked like it. Since when he did he sweat like this, inside the house, wearing nothing but a black T-shirt and sweats? 

“You know I can’t tell you,” he said.

You pouted and turned doe eyes on him. Reacher sighed and chuckled, looking away from you finally. “Please?” You asked. You scooted closer, sidling up to his big, thick body and placed your head on his shoulder. 

“Don’t,” he said.

“Pretty please?” You asked, biting your bottom lip. You dialed up the cuteness, making your eyes as wide as they would go. 

“It’s not going to work,” he said. But you already heard the resolve in his voice weaken. He tried to work with you on his shoulder but you rubbed your cheek against his bare arm. He sighed and pulled you into him, kissing your forehead. 

“You know being a brat doesn’t work on me. Come on, help me put this up before it’s too late,” he said.

“Too late? Got a hot date somewhere?” You asked, leaning away from him. You were only half joking. You wouldn’t seriously be with someone if you thought they had the capacity to cheat. Reacher was loyal through and through, almost doggedly so. 

“Smart ass. No. I want to get you to your parents before it gets too dark outside,” he said.

He was really adamant about that. You deflated, sinking onto the floor and handing him the next screw. Reacher glanced at you and sighed. “Please don’t hate me. I’m only looking out for you,” he said.

“I know, Reacher,” you said. You would just have to…make do. You’d leave the bowl of candy outside and let the kids take whatever they wanted. You could watch kids on the ring camera and scare them when they least expected. It wouldn’t be the same but at least you’d get to see some kind of excitement tonight. Too bad it wouldn’t be by riding your boyfriend until the morning light. 

You continued to help him with the bookshelf but your heart was no longer in it. You handed him screw after screw, letting the whir of the fan be the only sound in the room. 

Reacher thrived in silence so you didn’t expect him to fill it with useless conversation. Now you just felt stupid sitting in your costume. If he knew that he wanted you to go to your parents’ house, couldn’t he have said so before you dressed up? 

Sure, you had hours to go before nightfall. Before the kids and adults began walking around the neighborhood in their cute, creative outfits and bags or bowls of candy. But…this sucked. 

You pouted as he finished the bookshelf. You kissed him to thank him but swiftly retreated to your room to get ready. You already knew the drill. You removed your costume and threw on your own pair of joggers and one of Reacher’s shirts. It fit you like a dress but it was comfy and smelled like him.

Reacher got dressed in record time, damn near whistling now that you agreed to go to your parents’ house. You watched him move stiffly, like he was in pain but would never admit it. Things just weren't adding up. Your intuition was screaming at you, warning you that something wasn’t right here. 

You watched him carefully as he continued to wipe his brow or sniffle. If he were sick, he would tell you, right? He swiftly locked up the house, practically kicking you out of the house. He opened the car door for you, ushered you inside, and then hopped into the truck himself.

You still eyed him as he flew through traffic, making it to your parents’ house in twenty minutes flat. 

“You’re being weird,” you said when he parked in the driveway. Your parents’ house was in the middle of a cul-de-sac. The perfect environment for trick or treaters. Yet, this was the most geriatric neighborhood with only one young couple living at the end of the block and they didn’t have kids. 

You’d be lucky if anyone stopped down this street tonight. It was usually dark, lacking decorations, and no one turned on their porch lights. It was the opposite of your place. This place was dull and void of anything resembling fun. 

“I know. And I’m sorry,” he said. He reached out to take your hand, his hand burning to the touch. You held on anyway and turned to him. Turned to the man you were madly, wildly in love with. 

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” You asked. 

“I promise nothing’s wrong. After tonight, I’ll work on a healthier work-life balance,” he said. 

He kissed the back of your hand and you turned to his soft eyes. He still looked the same when he looked at you. Still radiated the same amount of love that was likely reflected in your own eyes. You were going to talk about this. There were no ifs or buts about it. You were going to talk and he was going to listen. 

“I’ll hold you to it,” you said. 

Reacher kissed your hand one more time before exiting the truck and walking around to open your door. He helped you climb out of his massive truck and then walked with you to your front door, head on a swivel as if you were being watched. He sniffed the air and you found yourself looking around as well. 

You used your keys to enter your parents’ house, calling out to them. Your mother rounded the corner immediately, opening her arms and drawing you into a hug. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans?” Your mother asked.

“Plans changed,” you said before Reacher could start in with that bullshit line. ‘Duty calls’, your ass. You had half a mind to follow him wherever he tried to go tonight. 

Your mother stepped away and then hugged Reacher, looking incredibly tiny compared to how big Reacher was. The idea took root in your mind as they spoke about you and how this was your favorite holiday. Your mother droned on about how you were as a child, trying to draw vampires and werewolves on pieces of paper for decorations. What she didn’t say was that your father tore them down and promptly turned off the lights, not wanting to give the wrong impression. And save money to boot. 

Your mind formulated the plan quicker than you could keep up with. You could wait until night time, keeping an eye on the ring camera, and then take your mother’s car back to your place. You’d get to the bottom of why Reacher absolutely needed the house to himself for this one special night a year. Once was a fluke. Twice was intentional. 

Your father lumbered into the room, eyes squinting at the intrusive noises. He looked Reacher up and down before breaking into a wide grin. “Reacher,” your father said.

“Sir,” he said back, grabbing and shaking your father’s hand. You eyed them both coolly, wondering how you ended up with two pig-headed men. Done with the niceties, Reacher pecked you respectfully on the cheek. 

“I’ll call you when I get home. And then I’ll make it up to you, promise,” he said. You saw the twinge of heat in his eyes. The sparkle of mischief that let you know that he absolutely would make it up to you. It would probably involve intense oral and your pussy throbbed just thinking of him sitting between your legs until you begged for mercy. 

You waved goodbye to him and watched him walk out of the door, already turning to your mother with a sweet smile. “Can I borrow your car later?” 

Night time fell in waves, turning the sky from dusty blue to purplish black. Few stars twinkled overhead as you drove your mother’s car to your place. There were more cars out and you kept getting distracted by everybody in their amazing costumes. 

However, you kept your phone on while looking at the video of your front door. You had a back door as well but Reacher rarely used it. Since coming home earlier, he hadn’t shown any sign that he left. 

You were being paranoid. You knew this. You knew that he told you to stay away from the house and you were supposed to be at your parents’, trapped in your little tower, but you had a gnawing pit in your stomach.

What if he was sick? What if he was lying on the floor of your bedroom, delirious and out of his mind? This was just a wellness check. That was what you told yourself to justify disobeying his precious orders. In reality, your curiosity ate at you. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you knew for certain that Reacher was okay. That he was just poring over disturbing case files. Or whatever the hell he did on base.

You parked a few houses down from your place and then carefully made your way down the street. You smiled at kids in their costumes, remarked on how creative they were, and then sidled up to your house.

Little did your Reacher know, there were a few blindspots in the cameras. The camera angles couldn’t cover everything. There was one narrow slip down the side of the house that none of the cameras caught. 

Your heart pounded in your chest and your legs wobbled but you were here now. Had to see it through. 

You walked to the backyard, careful to avoid the back camera. You’d have to hope he wasn’t looking at his phone when you were ready to enter. Your boots crunched on dead leaves underfoot, sounding as loud as bone crunching. Your heart beat rapidly, creating a booming drum in your chest. 

A stiff wind blew across your skin and you shivered as you hovered at the side of the house. This was nuts. You were a grown woman sneaking around your own home. Reacher was active military and was not expecting you. If he thought you were an intruder and shot you, you wouldn’t know what to tell Jesus.

“Sorry, Lord, I thought he was cheating on me.” What a stupid way to meet your end. Rationale kicked in with the dropping temperature. You shivered, pulling your phone out of your pocket and scrolling to Reacher’s number.

His thumbnail was a rare picture you managed to snap after you smeared ice cream on his nose during a mini vacation. He had his eyes closed but a clear, goofy grin on his face. It was your favorite. He didn’t deserve this. None of this. 

Rattling chains tore your attention from your phone to the back of your house. Chains? What the fuck? 

The chains rattled again followed by a low whine. It sounded like a wounded animal. Your fingers shook while holding your phone. You were frozen to the spot. Should you investigate? That was some grade A white people shit, but again, what if Reacher was sick? What if he was in trouble at this very moment? 

You knew how to shoot thanks to Reacher’s careful instruction and need to keep you safe at all times. The only problem was, his guns were all locked up in the basement. You took a deep breath. You could be strong for Reacher.

The camera be damned, you jogged up to the back of the house and used your keys to get inside. The house was dark, lights off and no movement in the house. You wanted to call out, but you still didn’t know where the rattling chain sound was coming from. 

You carefully picked your way through the house, turning on your flashlight. Even if a thief saw you, you just didn’t want Reacher to shoot your ass. You walked down the hallway, scanning the phone’s beam over every inch of space before you.

You definitely saw Reacher come inside and never leave. So where the fuck was he? Did he know about the blindspots too?

A high-pitched, animal-like whine tore through the house and turned your insides liquid with fear. 

What. The. Fuck. 

The beam of light shook, creating wavy shadows on the walls. You took a deep breath and decided to brave it. If there was a big ass animal stuck in your basement somehow, you needed to know. If Reacher was into some demon sacrifice shit, you absolutely needed to know right this second. 

Your sexy bear was more than capable of handling himself. He had been nothing but sweet when it came to you. But you never truly knew a person. And if that motherfucker was summoning shit in your basement, you were going to scream bloody murder. Assuming you escaped from him. 

You shook your head, stepping closer to the basement door underneath your stairs. The rattling and whines began to mix, creating a disharmonious screech against your eardrums. Enough to make them itch.

You opened the door and peered down the rickety stairs. You hated the basement. Hated going down the wooden slats that felt like it could give at any moment. The light was on down there with a large shadow moving to and fro. 

You were going to be sick. What were you about to find? “Momma ain’t raise no bitch,” you muttered, clutching your phone to your chest. It was a small weapon, but it’d do. 

You took the first step and then another, curiosity making your steps quicker. Like ripping off the band-aid, you just needed to see. Needed to know. If you were harboring a freak or a psycho killer this whole time, you were going to be sick. Not knowing was killing you. 

With each step gained, more and more of the basement was revealed. You stepped low enough to peer under the ceiling and gasped, hand flying to your mouth. 

A man-like figure stood with its paw on the cement wall, other hand thrusting furiously on its…dick. Its throbbing, dripping dick. The keening whines you heard were the excited moans of the figure, stroking its dick. 

The figure was hairy all over, clearly naked, with pale skin poking beneath gray patches. The arms had muscle stacked on muscle and it had to be at least seven feet tall. Just barely missing the top of the ceiling. It stood on haunched legs, claws extended and scraped the cement flooring. 

The snout was slightly elongated but somehow human with protruding canines poking from thin lips. “Fuuuuuck,” the beast growled. 

You gasped, growing more aroused by the second. This was sick. This was hot. You watched as it bent its head towards a pillow with a long shirt draped over. It stepped closer to the pillow, chains rattling around its hind legs. You glanced at the long shirt. It kind of looked like…

Was that your shirt? Was the beast jerking itself off to your shirt? How long had this creature been here? Where did it come from? And where the hell was Reacher? 

The beast tipped its head back, fingering the tip of its dick. Gathered up beads of pre-cum and then stroked itself again. Your name pushed from its lips sounding suspiciously like …

“Reacher?” You asked.

The beast turned its head completely to you. It was hard to tell but…those eyes. He couldn’t change those eyes. 

He called your name, spreading his arms and looking like a deer in headlights. Maybe you should’ve kept your mouth shut. You wanted to see him cum. 

“Leave!” He growled, his voice impossibly deep and animalistic. He stepped forward but the chains prevented him from getting too close to the stairs. You looked him over. You didn’t know how to deal with this. 

Should you run? Should you call for help? Should you help him finish? You stepped down the rest of the stairs and Reacher held out his hand, urging you to stop. You did, one step from the ground. 

Reacher paced, sniffing the air and whining. “Go away before I hurt you,” he said, his eyes glowing with fury. You heard the warning bells in your head but you were too full of lust to pay attention. This was an impossible dream come true. An entire fantasy brought to life. How many monster fucker books did you have on your brand new bookshelf thanks to Reacher? 

“You won’t hurt me,” you said. 

You had a million questions. How? How did he become this? How long had monsters been walking the planet and no one knew? No one had pictures. No one had proof. How? 

Reacher pawed at his ear as if he were ready to burst from his skin. He continued to sniff the air, whines escaping from him as if he couldn’t help it. He was still fully erect, thick bead of pre-cum leaking down his tip and dropping to the floor. His dick was twice its normal size and stuffed. Your pussy clenched looking at it. 

“Go away,” he growled. He was clearly a true mix of man and beast. It should scare you. It should be the last thing you entertained. But your eyes kept dropping to his dick. 

“Reacher…”

“GET OUT!” He yelled, pulling at the chains against his legs. The hook pulled from the wall and if he weren’t careful, he would break it altogether. 

A tiny bit of self preservation told you to leave. To turn and close the door and leave him to…whatever the fuck was going on. You stepped backwards as he continued to whine and pull at the chains hooked into the wall. 

The one holding his left foot down escaped from the wall entirely. He stopped whining and looked down at it. He slowly raised his furry face and tilted his head at you. His eyes narrowed and then he sniffed the air, getting closer to the ground until he was on all fours. 

You backed away, keeping your eye on him. This was too new. You didn’t know what to do here. Should you run? Would he just catch you? You backed up the stairs and Reacher’s eyes followed you until he couldn’t any more.

You turned and ran just as the other chain came loose and then his booming steps were following close behind you. You swore you already felt hot breath on your neck as you exited the basement and ran towards the front door. 

Reacher snarled, hot on your heels. Teeth snapping, howls splitting the air. You didn’t have the presence of mind to scream. Or yell for help. You passed by the living room just as Reacher’s massive body pushed you to the ground.

You fell forward with a thud and grunted, knees smarting from hitting the hard flooring. Reacher sniffed your hair and your body, excitable whines leaving him. Or were those moans? 

He licked your cheek, long tongue lolling out of his mouth. He sniffed you more, hands searching your body but you didn’t know for what. 

“What do you need?” You asked. You tried looking behind you. The room was pretty dark but enough light from the porch shone through your windows and illuminated parts of his face and body. His body hair was soft, snuggly, and you kept yourself still as he continued to paw at you. What was he looking for?

“You. You. You. You.” Reacher was out of his mind. He couldn’t stop chanting that word as he pawed and ripped at your clothes. He stopped and growled low in your ear. A moan escaped you anyway. 

Fuck, you were turned on. Turned on to the max. Your panties were soaked with your essence as Reacher sniffed your neck, your back, and trailed down to your joggers. He growled as he caught your scent and then leaned down harder on you.

“Trying. To. Fight. Must. Go.” 

“Why? What do you need? What do you need from me?” You asked.

“Can’t. Control.” He growled, grinding his pelvis against your legs and onto the floor. 

“Sex? You need sex?” You asked. This was what he had been hiding from you? Did he not trust you with this? 

“Don’t. Want. Hurt. You.” He grinded his hips again, a low, deep whine escaping him. 

“You won’t hurt me. It’s okay,” you said. Hell, if it was sex he needed then you were more than game. You slid sideways and he growled, pressing his claw against your back to hold you down. 

“It’s okay,” you said. You slowly flipped over, letting him know that you weren’t trying to escape. Once on your back, Reacher sniffed and pawed at you once more. 

“Leave.” His eyes were full of anguish and despair. But he drooled and licked his chops. His teeth were large, sharp enough to cut through glass you bet. 

Your hands moved to your joggers, peeling it off of your sweat-slick body. Your body thrummed with anticipation and adrenaline, the earlier chase only turning you on more. You kept your eyes on his as you shimmied out of your panties and pants. 

He sniffed at your tummy, moving lower to your pussy. He groaned, a distinctly human sound, as he ground his hips into the floor. “Smell me. I want you. I want this. You won’t hurt me,” you said. 

You lifted the hem of your shirt and took that off as well. Cold air hit your nipples but with the overbearing heat radiating off of him, it was manageable. Reacher sniffed at your exposed skin, licking your nipples. You moaned and arched your back. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, that felt amazing. 

His long tongue captured your entire titty in one lick, leaving a neat trail of saliva on your skin. You shivered as he did it over and over, licking around your nipples. He went back and forth, alternating between them both. His nails clicked on the hardened floor as he braced himself, climbing up your body. He licked your neck and whined, adding in a moan that made your pussy flutter.

As if he heard it or possibly smelled the fresh slick between your thighs, he leaned back on his knees and then spread your legs. “Oh fuck,” you moaned. He was so..unhinged. He operated on instinct, spreading your legs as far as it would go. 

“Sure?” Reacher asked. “Don’t. Hurt.” 

“I’m sure, I’m sure,” you moaned. 

Reacher reached down and used that wonderful tongue to lap at your aching pussy. You moaned and tried to close your legs to the onslaught of pleasure. Hell, you didn’t think you could go back to getting eaten out the regular way. 

His tongue was beautiful and nasty as he latched onto your clit. His sharp canines grazed your pussy lips but never punctured skin. You writhed on the ground, pulling at his hair. He growled and increased his licking and sucking. 

You were falling head first into a powerful, sinful orgasm that robbed you of sight and breath. Your hearing went out of one ear as you convulsed on his mouth, shivering and twitching. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” You cried. One orgasm led to another, making your entire body buck off of the ground. Reacher held you down with his paws, made you take his tongue between your thighs. He pushed his tongue into your dripping hole and your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Fuck, just like that. Just like that,” you moaned, yanking at his hair. If it hurt him, you didn’t hear. You dug your nails into his scalp as he pulled another orgasm from you. Your thighs shook, the heels of your feet digging into the hardwood flooring. 

Reacher lifted his head finally, licking his lips. Your essence dripped from his mouth and you licked your lips. Your hearing slowly returned as he grabbed your hips and flipped you over. 

“Floor too hard,” you moaned. Fuck. He was about to take you doggy style. You couldn’t help arching your back and wiggling your ass. Reacher growled and then jumped to his feet with inhuman speed. As if he had extra muscles in this form that allowed him to move more smoothly.

He picked you up and then placed you onto the powder blue rug in your living room. Much better. He dropped to his knees and roughly grabbed your hips. He pulled until your back was arched once more, ass high in the air. 

His claws dug into your ass cheeks as his dick poked and prodded at your entrance. You were dripping with slick, pussy clenching and unclenching at the back to back orgasms. But fuck, you wanted more. “Take what you need,” you moaned. “You won’t hurt me.” Even if he was rough, you’d accept it. 

Reacher pushed in, met resistance, and kept going. You cried out, fingers clawing at the carpet. The stretch burned. He was far bigger than his normal size and you struggled to take him then. It took a lot of prep time to have sex with Reacher. It was beyond needed now. But you didn’t have time. 

You were driven out of your mind with lust. The darkened room, the grunts and moans coming from his raspy throat, and your moans created a sweet symphony. You were drunk on it. Intoxicated by it. You tried to wiggle and push down on his dick.

Reacher howled as he sank further and deeper inside you, pushing beyond your limits. Stretching you out completely. You were completely stuffed and he still had more to go. “I can take you, baby. Keep going,” you gasped and moaned.

You shut your eyes to the sheer pleasure coursing through your body. His dick hit a deep spot inside you and you collapsed onto the floor as the orgasm tore through your body. You felt like you were split in half on his thrusting, throbbing dick. 

“So good. So good. Needed.” Reacher moaned in between howls. 

“Oh fuck. I can’t, I can’t,” you moaned. You drooled onto the carpet, body limp and weak. Reacher gripped your hips tighter, holding you, impaling you on his dick. He thrust a handful more times before he finally unloaded, stuffing you to the brim with his cum.

You were filled up like a pastry. He thrust harder, pushing it deeper inside of you. It was so much cum, it dripped out of you despite his dick keeping it inside like a plug. His cum leaked down the sides of your pussy lips, around your clit, and dropped onto the floor. 

“One more,” Reacher said, sounding more like himself than before. 

“I can’t, baby,” you whispered, voice completely gone from all the screaming and moaning you were doing. 

“One more,” he said again. He pulled all the way out of you and then thrust back in. He did that over and over, wet smacks filling the air. Your pussy ached and throbbed but you continued to accept him into your body. You made room for him. Made room for his still hardened dick spearing you. 

He whined, claws still digging into your hips. You were going to have bruises like a motherfucker in the morning. But it was so worth it. You clenched around his dick and Reacher moaned, faltering with his steady rhythm and sliding in much deeper than before. His tip kissed your G-spot and you came instantly, flooding his dick with your essence. 

You screamed out, cries echoing and bouncing around the darkened room. Reacher finally pulled out and your pussy squelched. 

You moaned and shivered as more of his cum leaked out of you. You gently fell to the side as Reacher cuddled up next to you on the floor. You petted his thick fur, mind blissfully quiet and empty.

You were nearly asleep when the doorbell rang. Reacher growled, clutching you to him. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you said. 

You petted him until he calmed back down, settling down with a contented sigh. You grabbed the nearest throw blanket and wrapped it around yourself. “Who is it?” You called out.

“Police, ma’am,” a deep voice said.

You looked out of the peephole to see two officers in uniform standing outside your door. You threw a nervous glance towards Reacher who was still fast asleep. You cracked open the door and peeked out.

“Yes?” You asked.

“We got a few calls about strange noises coming from this address,” one of the police officers said. 

“Sorry. Me and my boyfriend were going a little crazy with the whole Halloween theme,” you said. 

The officer looked towards his partner and then glanced back at you. “Are you safe, ma’am?” He asked quietly.

You smiled and nodded your head. “I assure you, we’re good. More than good,” you said with a sleepy giggle. It was a miracle you were still on your feet. The officer gave you one last look and then tried to look behind you. But the door was only open a crack and there was nothing for him to see.

“If you need help, here’s my card,” he said. He handed you a card and you waved. You slammed the door in his face and locked it behind you. 

You leaned against it with a bone weary sigh and rejoined your werewolf boyfriend on the floor. You were going to regret sleeping on the floor in the morning but for now, you couldn’t give a single damn. 

Thank you for all the love for my first Reacher fic! The Secret Jack Reacher Files

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