#I am not saying that she is the same as him

[lostfracturess]

HOW TO FAKE DATE A DOCTOR — SATORU GOJO

pairing — doctor!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary — for six months, you've watched dr. satoru gojo order the sweetest coffee on your menu every morning at exactly 7:15 AM. for six months, you've convinced yourself his intense stares must mean he's spotted something medically concerning about you—maybe a suspicious mole or concerning symptom. but when a desperate white lie about a fake boyfriend results in him volunteering to play the part at your family's christmas dinner, what begins as a simple pretend relationship might just turn into something real.

word count — 9 k

genre/tags — coffee shop AU, holiday romance, fake dating, friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, fluff, idiots in love, reader is a med student and barista, gojo is a cardiologist, age difference (reader is 25/gojo early 30s)

warnings — 16+ ONLY. contains suggestive sexual content, non-graphic medical talk

author's note — hey lovelies, welcome to my first attempt at a holiday romance. this was meant to be a short drabble but somehow turned into this 9 k words of pure fluff and pining. it's my little christmas gift to you all hehe. whether you're celebrating with family, working holiday shifts, or just enjoying a quiet day, hope this makes you smile. thank you for reading, and merry christmas !! <3 (fanart in the header)

masterlist

You first noticed him six months ago.

It wasn't just because he was strikingly handsome, with hair the color of fresh snow and the bluest eyes you'd ever seen, though that certainly didn't hurt. It wasn't even because of his white coat and the stethoscope casually draped around his neck, marking him as one of the doctors from the nearby hospital.

No, what caught your attention was the way he looked at you.

Every morning, like clockwork, the bell above the door would chime at precisely 7:15 AM, and Dr. Satoru Gojo would walk into your café. He'd order the sweetest drink on your menu (always with extra whipped cream), and while you prepared it, his eyes would follow your every movement.

It wasn't creepy or uncomfortable. And it definitely wasn't flirting — at least, you didn't think it was. Perhaps he saw something, a suspicious mole you'd never noticed, and now he was trying to figure out how to tell the coffee girl she’s dying without ruining her morning rush. 

That had to be it.

You’d catch his gaze lingering when he thought you weren't looking. Sometimes, he'd tilt his head slightly, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. It made you wonder what he was thinking. Was he judging your latte art? Probably. You were still working on that.

But when you turned around to give him his iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream and three shots of caramel (it never varied, not once in six months), he'd break his smile to you, his gaze softening for a second, and then his fingers would brush against yours as you handed him the paper cup.

He always thanked you with “Much appreciated”. It made your heart skip a beat, if you'd be honest. Not that you read all too much into it of course. And so for six months, this had been your routine. 

5:30 AM: Arrive at the café.

6:00 AM: Open up, prep for the day. 

7:13 AM: Start making his drink because you knew he'd walk in exactly two minutes later. 

7:15 AM: Heart fluttering slightly as your hand brushed his as you gave him his order.

10:00 AM: Shift end. 

10:30 AM: Rush to classes.

Some mornings, he’d arrive in wrinkled scrubs, the faint scent of antiseptic clinging to him. Other days, it was a tailored dress shirt, sometimes with a matching tie. But the routine never changed.

Same order, same time, the same easy smile that would soften slightly when you remembered his order without him having to say it. Not that it was hard to begin with. 

“Someone’s got a secret admirer,” Maki would say, nudging you with her elbow as Dr. Gojo left. You’d roll your eyes, but a faint blush crept up your neck anyway.

Between customers, you'd try to squeeze in some studying. The early morning shift wasn't exactly ideal, but it paid better, and you needed every cent you could get for your pre-med textbooks. Those things cost more than your rent, it felt like.

Your anatomy textbook usually lay open behind the counter, hidden from customers' view but accessible during slower moments. Sometimes, when the morning rush died down, you'd catch Dr. Gojo's eyes flickering to the pages as you made his latte. His expression would shift slightly, but he never commented on it.

You wondered sometimes if he was judging your highlighting technique (chaotic at best) or your margin notes (mostly question marks). He must have gone through all this years ago, probably with much more grace than your current fumbling through medical terminology.

The café job barely covered your expenses — between tuition, rent, and those damn textbooks — but at least it was flexible with your class schedule. Your manager understood when you needed to switch shifts for exams, and the free coffee helped during all-nighters.

Your coworkers thought you were crazy for taking such early shifts. "No one should be awake at 5:30 AM," they'd say. But they didn't understand the quiet peace of morning prep, the satisfaction of perfect latte art, or the way certain blue eyes would crinkle at the corners when you got his order just right.

It was a small thing, a fleeting smile, a brush of fingertips, but it was enough to make the early mornings, the aching feet, the constant struggle, almost worth it.

Not that you stuck to this schedule just for him. Obviously not. The extra dollar per hour for opening shift was the real motivator. The fact that it coincided with Dr. Gojo's apparent coffee schedule was just... coincidence.

Sometimes, during chaotic study sessions between customers, you'd catch him watching you mouth medical terms to yourself as you steamed milk. His eyes would linger on your textbook, then flick back to your face with that same intense look that made you wonder if he was counting your remaining days or something—or still trying to figure out if that one mole on your cheek was turning malignant.

The morning you had your anatomy midterm, your textbook sat next to the register, full of sticky notes and frantic annotations. You saw him notice it, saw something shift in his expression as he took in the obvious signs of exam stress. That day, he left an extra large tip with a small note that just said "Good luck."

It was probably just pity. He'd been through med school. He knew the hell you were going through. That had to be it. Absolutely. No other explanation.

That’s what you told yourself, anyway, as you added the note into your wallet, shoving it down next to a crumpled grocery list and a faded movie ticket stub, as if burying it under a pile of mundane objects could somehow bury the flutter in your chest.

For six months, this had been your life. Balancing early mornings, late classes, endless studying, and the mystery of a doctor who looked at you like you were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

So when he finally broke pattern that random rainy monday morning, it wasn't with some dramatic revelation about your health you’d imagined. Instead, he tilted his head slightly while waiting for his usual and said, "You changed your hair."

You nearly dropped the caramel syrup. After six months of intense stares and loaded silences, after convincing yourself he was cataloging your symptoms or contemplating your mortality, he was commenting on your hair?

"Oh." Your hand instinctively went to the ends you'd trimmed over the weekend. "Yeah, just a few inches."

"It suits you." He said it so casually, like he hadn't just shattered half a year of mysterious doctor mystique with three words. Then, with that same matter-of-fact tone, "The pathophysiology textbook you were reading last week—Robbins, right? It’s really good. Especially the part about metaplasia. Interesting stuff."

And just like that, the spell was broken. No terminal diagnosis. No earth-shattering revelations. Just a doctor who apparently noticed haircuts and had opinions about medical textbooks. 

The sudden normalcy of it all was almost jarring. For months, you’d been half-convinced he was silently cataloging your every freckle, every mole, every perceived imperfection, convinced he was about to deliver some devastating news. Now? He was talking about metaplasia. It was almot—anticlimactic. 

And, if you were being honest, a little embarrassing. All those covert checks in the reflection of the espresso machine, all those frantic Google searches for “atypical nevi”—for this?

You almost wanted to laugh.

After that day, your morning routine shifted slightly. He still came in at exactly 7:15, still ordered the same diabetis-inducing latte, still watched you work with those intense blue eyes the color of glacial ice. But now he'd occasionally comment on your study materials, or mention an interesting case that related to whatever chapter you were currently highlighting.

"Cardiac arrhythmias today?" he'd ask, spotting your textbook. "Had a case of atrial fibrillation yesterday. The patient presented with…" He’d then launch into a quick explanation, sketching a diagram on a napkin that somehow made more sense than three hours of lecture on the same topic.

Your coworkers were almost disappointed by this development. "That's it?" Maki had said when you told her. "Six months of smoldering looks and he just... helps you study?"

But somehow, it felt right. The mysterious doctor with pretty eyes turned out to be just a man who noticed details and perhaps had a soft spot for struggling med students. 

He still made your heart do that stupid flutter thing when his fingers brushed yours during the handoff, but now you had a perfectly logical explanation for that of course—the vagus nerve or some other equally fascinating cardiovascular phenomenon he'd just explained.

That had to be it.

Some mornings, when the café was quiet and you were stumped by a concept, he'd even linger a few minutes after getting his order. He’d lean against the counter, close enough that you could smell the faint scent of his cologne, gesturing with his cup while breaking down complex medical theories into digestible pieces, somehow making autoimmune disorders sound as simple as iced latte recipes. 

"You'll make a good doctor," he said one morning, completely out of nowhere and your cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

Your relationship—if you could even call it that—settled into something comfortably in-between. More than customer and barista, less than friends, but with a rhythm all its own. He'd quiz you while you made his usual, turning morning coffee runs into study sessions.

"Name three complications of chronic hypertension," he'd say while you pumped caramel into his cup.

"Increased risk of heart attack, stroke, and kidney disease," you'd reply, adding the extra shot of espresso he never actually ordered but always appreciated.

"Good. Now tell me about secondary causes."

One random Tuesday morning, however, the bell didn't chime at 7:15. You glanced at the clock, then back at the door. 

7:16. 

7:17. 

A knot of unease tightened in your stomach. It was ridiculous, really. Why did you even care? He was just a customer. A regular customer, yes, but still just a customer. It wasn't like you were waiting for him or anything. You were just—used to the routine. That was all. 

But despite your attempts at rationalization, a small, nagging worry began to gnaw at you. Had something happened? Was he okay? You found yourself staring at the door, your hand hovering over the espresso machine, your usual movements faltering slightly. You even messed up a latte, the foam swirling into a sad, lopsided blob instead of the usual pretty rosetta. 

At 7:20, just as you were about to convince yourself he’d just overslept and that you were being completely ridiculous, the bell finally rang. He rushed in, slightly out of breath, his cheeks flushed. "Sorry I'm late," he said, his voice a little rushed. "Crazy morning at the hospital."

He looked like he’d run all the way, which was odd. Why would he run? It’s not like his coffee was that important. Right? And yet, your stupid heart did a little flip at the sight of him, a traitorous swell of warmth blooming in your chest. He made it. He was here.

He stayed extra long that morning. After the rush died down, he listened to you recite your flashcards, correcting your pronunciation of medical terms with a patience that made you wonder if he moonlighted as a professor. It was a strange sort of intimacy, this shared moment of slow study amidst the busy morning rush and the soft hum of the refrigerators. 

And you never wanted that morning to end.

Your coworkers had stopped teasing you about him—mostly—and started asking if he could explain their own health questions instead. Then came the random stormy Wednesday that changed everything.

The morning had started normally enough—he arriving at 7:15 sharp, you already having his sugar latte ready. But the sky had opened up while he was waiting, rain drumming against the café windows. It wasn’t a gentle shower. It was a deluge, the kind that turned streets into rivers in minutes.

"Did you bring an umbrella?" he asked, watching you glance at the downpour.

"No," you sighed, already dreading the soggy walk to campus. "I checked the forecast last night—it said sunny all day." You internally cursed the weather app.

"When does your shift end?"

"Huh? Oh, uhm 10 AM. I have microbiology at 10:30."

His lips twitched into a faint smile and he left without another word. You tried not to feel disappointed—what had you expected? It's not like he could control the weather.

But at 10 AM sharp, as you were pulling your jacket tighter and preparing to make a run for it, you spotted him through the rain-streaked windows. He was standing outside the café in his white coat, holding a large dark blue umbrella. 

Your heart definitely did more than flutter this time.

"Ready?" he asked when you emerged, as if waiting in the pouring rain for some barista was perfectly normal doctor behavior.

"You didn't have to—"

"Can't have my favorite barista catching pneumonia," he said. "Besides, I'm heading that direction anyway." You knew for a fact the hospital was in the opposite direction.

The walk to campus was suddenly—intimate. It was strange being this close to him. You’d seen him every morning for months, but always across the counter, a safe distance separating you. Now, you were walking side-by-side, the scent of his cologne so close it made it hard to focus on anything but his proximity, to say the least.

"So, what are you studying in Microbiology?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"We're covering bacterial pathogenesis this week," you replied, and the conversation drifted naturally to a discussion of how different pathogens could affect various organ systems like it was normal small talk.

As other pedestrians passed, their own umbrellas bobbing and weaving, he’d subtly pull you closer. Each time he did, your breath would catch in your throat, and a fresh wave of warmth would wash over you. You were grateful for his height, because you were certain your cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red.

It was absurd, how flustered you were by such a simple act, but the feeling of his arm occasionally brushing against yours, the shared intimacy of the small space beneath the umbrella, was enough to send your heart racing.

Desperate to focus on something else, you blurted out, "What kind of doctor are you, anyway? I never actually asked."

"Cardiology," he replied simply.

“Cardiology,” you repeated, the word lingering on your tongue. A doctor of the heart. When you reached the medical sciences building, he paused, lowering the umbrella slightly. The rain had begun to ease, but the air still smelled wet and clean.

"Thanks," you said, meeting his gaze. "For the umbrella escort."

"Anytime." That soft smile again, the one that made your heart do a stupid little skip again.

As you watched him walk away, umbrella tilted against the rain, you realized something had shifted. Maybe you weren't quite friends, maybe you weren't quite anything definable, but whatever this was—it felt like the beginning of something. Something more than just sharing an umbrella on rainy days.

⋆꙳•❅•̩❅*̩‧͙ *̩❆₊˚｡❆

Winter arrived on a random thursday morning, transforming rain into snow and turning your early morning walks to work into arctic expeditions.

It was during one of these frigid mornings, while you were preparing Dr. Gojo's usual order and the steam from the espresso machines fogging up the frost-covered windows, that your phone rang. Your mother's contact photo flashed on the screen.

You answered with your phone pressed between ear and shoulder, still working the machines. "Hi, Mom."

"Sweetheart! I was just planning Christmas dinner. You're bringing someone this year, right? That nice boy from your anatomy class you mentioned?"

You winced, catching Dr. Gojo's raised eyebrow from where he stood at the counter. "Mom—"

"Because Aunt Marie's daughter just got engaged, and you know how she gets—"

"My boyfriend's actually busy with hospital rotations," you blurted out, immediately wanting to punch yourself. "He's, uh, very dedicated to his work."

"Boyfriend? Why didn't you tell me? What's his name? What does he—"

"Sorry, Mom, huge line forming, gotta go!" You hung up, letting your forehead thump against the coffee machine with a groan.

"That sounded stressful," Dr. Gojo commented, amusement clear in his voice.

You looked up to find him watching you with that slight smile that always made you shiver. "Just my mom being... my mom." You resumed making his latte. "She's convinced that at twenty-five, I'm practically a spinster."

"Ah." He tilted his head. "And this fictional boyfriend with hospital rotations?"

Your cheeks heated. "Seemed easier than explaining why I'm still single. Between work, classes, and studying, I barely have time to sleep, let alone date." You handed him his usual. "Plus, now she'll stop trying to set me up with every eligible male she meets through her book club."

"A creative solution," he said, taking a sip. "Though hospital rotations over Christmas? Sounds like a terrible boyfriend." A playful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah, well, imaginary men are often disappointing." You started wiping down the counter, needing something to do with your hands. "At least this way I'll have a few weeks of peace before I have to tell her we broke up."

"Sounds like you've done this before," he observed, watching you attack an imaginary coffee stain with perhaps too much force.

"Is it that obvious?" You sighed, abandoning your fake cleaning. "Last year he was studying abroad. The year before that, he was sick. I'm running out of excuses, honestly. Pretty sure my mom's stopped believing me, but she plays along because it's less awkward than admitting we both know I'm lying."

He made a thoughtful sound, then pulled out his prescription pad (why did doctors always carry those around anyway?). You watched, confused, as he scribbled something down and slid it across the counter.

"Here," he said. "My number. Call me during Christmas dinner."

You stared at him. "What?"

"Well, your imaginary boyfriend should at least make an effort, don't you think?" His eyes held that familiar amusement. "I'll tell your mom all about my very important hospital rounds, maybe throw in some medical words. Make it convincing."

You stared at him, mouth slightly agape. Was he… offering to pretend to be your boyfriend? You couldn't quite process what was happening. 

"You know," he said, after you'd probably been quiet for too long, "some of us actually do work hospital rotations over Christmas."

"I know, I just—" You stopped, realizing how her words might have sounded. "Oh god, I didn't mean to imply… I know you probably have to work during the holidays too, I wasn't trying to—"

"Someone has to make sure all those Christmas dinner caused heart attacks are properly treated," he interrupted, that familiar, almost-smirk back on his face, easing the tension in your shoulders. "Though I do get Christmas morning off this year."

You couldn't tell if he was trying to make you feel better about your lie, your accidental insult, or just sharing information. With Dr. Gojo, it was often hard to tell. After a moment of stunned silence, you managed, "Are you… sure?"

"Perfectly.”

"Thank you," you said, finally finding your voice as you picked up the slip of paper. "Really, thank you."

"Anytime," he said, that familiar, soft smile gracing his lips. "Consider it a Christmas gift. From your very dedicated, albeit fictional, boyfriend."

As you watched him leave, coffee in hand and snowflakes catching in his white hair. Even if he was probably going to tease you endlessly about your fictional, workaholic boyfriend for weeks to come, a small, stupid part of you was already looking forward to it.

⋆꙳•❅•̩❅*̩‧͙ *̩❆₊˚｡❆

The Christmas dinner was a random Friday night.

The table, laden with enough food to feed a small army, was surrounded by the usual suspects and the dinner turned out to be exactly as excruciating as you'd expected. You'd barely made it through the appetizers before the interrogation began.

"So, this boyfriend of yours," Aunt Marie started. "What did you say he does again?"

"He's a doctor," you said into your mashed potatoes.

"A doctor!" your mother brightened. "You never mentioned that part."

Your cousin Sarah leaned forward. "What kind of doctor? Where did he study? How did you meet?"

You were considering faking a sudden illness when your phone buzzed. Dr. Gojo's name lit up your screen with a video call request. You hadn't even suggested a video call—he was truly committing to this.

"Oh, that's him now!" Your mother said, clapping her hands together. "Put him on speaker!"

Before you could protest, you were surrounded by a sea of curious relatives as you answered the call. The screen filled with Dr. Gojo's face, and—oh god—he was actually in scrubs, in what looked like a real operating room.

"Hey, my love," he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and the casual nickname hit you like a train, making you forget your own name. You felt your cheeks flush and it didn’t help that he somehow managed to look unfairly handsome even under the surgical lights. "Sorry I couldn't make it. We had an emergency valve replacement come in."

"Are you... actually in surgery right now?" you asked.

"Just finished!" He tilted the phone slightly to show a glimpse of a team of medical staff behind him, all of whom waved. One even gave a thumbs up. "Thought I'd catch you before dessert. Is that your family I see?"

Your entire extended family crammed themselves into frame, cooing and waving at your "doctor boyfriend" who was dedicated enough to call from work.

"Oh my god, he's gorgeous," your cousin said.

"Dr. Gojo," your mother pushed forward, "we're so disappointed you couldn't join us. Though of course, saving lives comes first!"

"Please, call me Satoru," he said, flashing that unfairly attractive smile of his. "And I'm more disappointed than anyone. I was really looking forward to trying your famous apple pie that your daughter keeps telling me about."

Your mother clutched her chest, delighted. You had never once mentioned her apple pie to him. 

"Are those Christmas decorations I see in the OR?" your aunt squinted at the screen.

And indeed, there were actual Christmas lights strung up in the background. Either this hospital was very festive, or he'd gone to ridiculous lengths for this act.

"We try to keep the holiday spirit alive, even here," he said, then suddenly looked off-screen. "Oh, looks like we have another emergency coming in." Dramatic beeping noises increased in the background. "I'm so sorry, but duty calls. It was lovely meeting you all!"

"Such a dedicated young man," your mother sighed after you ended the call.

"So handsome too," Aunt Marie added. "Those eyes!"

You slumped in your chair, caught between mortification and amusement. He really didn't have to go that far—the Christmas lights in the OR? The perfectly timed “emergency”? The entire surgical team playing along? It was almost impressive.

Your phone buzzed with a text: 'How'd I do? The lights were my colleague's idea. They says Merry Christmas, by the way. Your family seems nice.'

Another buzz, a separate message: 'Also, I expect a slice of that famous apple pie at the café tomorrow. After that performance, I think I've earned it.'

You typed back: 'You are absolutely insufferable. That was completely over the top.'

His response came almost instantly: 'Is that any way to talk to your dedicated doctor boyfriend who just saved a life AND charmed your entire family? I'm hurt.'

Despite yourself, you smiled.

Your phone buzzed one more time: 'By the way, your cousin already found my hospital's public contact info and sent a friend request. Should I accept? I feel like a committed boyfriend would.'

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. He was absolutely loving this. 

Way too much.

The next morning, you weren't surprised when he showed up at his usual 7:15, despite it being his day off. What did surprise you was that he was still wearing scrubs. They were rumpled, like he'd been wearing them for a while.

"Please tell me you didn't actually work all night just to make that video call more convincing," you said as he approached the counter.

"You know, I am a doctor in real life, right? This isn't just a cover for your mom." He smirked. "But anyway, just finished an actual emergency shift." He glanced at the paper bag you had waiting next to his usual sugary coffee. "Is that… what I think it is?"

"Your well-earned reward for yesterday's Oscar-worthy performance." You handed him both coffee and pie. "Though I still can't believe you got your entire surgical team to play along."

"Bold of you to assume I had to ask." He took a bite of the pie and his eyes widened slightly. "Okay, your mom's reputation is deserved. This is actually amazing."

"Yeah, well, enjoy it while it lasts, because—" You hesitated, took a deep breath, and decided to just rip the bandage off. "She invited you to dinner. Tomorrow."

He paused mid-bite. "Oh?"

"I told her you're probably busy—"

"What time?"

You stared at him. "What?"

"What time is dinner?" He took another bite of pie, looking perfectly casual about the whole thing. "I actually have Sunday evening off, and this pie has convinced me your mom's cooking is worth experiencing in person."

"You can't be serious."

"Why not?" He shrugged. "I've already met them virtually. Might as well complete the experience. Unless you're worried I'll embarrass you?"

"I'm worried you'll be too convincing again," you said. "My mom's already planning our wedding, by the way. She told me this morning that your 'dedication to work' proves you'd be a good husband."

"Well, I'd hate to disappoint a future mother-in-law."

"This isn't funny!"

"It's a little funny." He leaned against the counter, grinning. "Come on, one dinner. I promise to be slightly less charming this time."

"Somehow I doubt that's possible," you said before you could stop yourself.

His smile widened. "Was that a compliment?"

"That was a complaint about your inability to do anything halfway." You busied yourself with wiping down the already clean counter. "But fine. Sunday at seven. Try not to bring Christmas lights this time."

"No promises." He pushed off from the counter, taking his coffee and pie. "Oh, and by the way?"

"Hmm?"

"I accepted your cousin's friend request. She's already invited me to your family's New Year's party."

He was halfway to the door when he paused, turning back with an expression that was softer than his usual teasing smile. "You look pretty today, by the way. The new sweater suits you." 

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. You hadn't even realized he'd noticed you'd changed from your usual work shirt into a cozy sweater for your afternoon classes.

He was out the door before you could stammer out a response, leaving you to wonder what exactly you had gotten yourself into. And why one simple, genuine compliment made your heart race more than all his dramatic boyfriend performances combined.

⋆꙳•❅•̩❅*̩‧͙ *̩❆₊˚｡❆

Sunday evening found you pacing a worn path in the carpet by your parents' front door, checking your phone every two minutes. 7:15 came and went—apparently his almost unnervingly precise timing only applied to coffee runs. 

You tried to convince yourself it was fine, that doctors had unpredictable schedules, but a nervous flutter had taken up residence in your stomach.

At 7:20, your mom’s worried, "Maybe he got called into surgery?" was interrupted by the doorbell. You took a deep breath, smoothing down your dress, and opened the door.

Standing there was Dr. Gojo—Satoru, you supposed you should call him now—looking slightly disheveled in a way that somehow only emphasized his unfairly attractive features. His white dress shirt, though slightly untucked at the waist, bore the clear signs of a hurried ironing, and he was carrying what looked like an expensive bottle of wine—definitely not the kind you’d find at the corner store.

"I'm so sorry," he said, running a hand through his already slightly tousled white hair. "Emergency consultation ran late, and then traffic was—"

"It's fine," you interrupted, a wave of relief washing over you. He’d actually come. "Really. You didn't have to—"

But the rest of your sentence disappeared into a surprised squeak as he stepped forward, closing the small gap between you. He leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to your cheek, his free hand settling naturally on your waist, just above your hip, as if he’d done it a hundred times before.

"Hi," he whispered against your ear, and you could hear the smile in his voice. "Missed you today at the café."

You stood frozen, brain short-circuiting from the casual intimacy of it all. This wasn't part of the plan. You hadn't discussed... this. The way his hand felt warm through your dress, how his cologne made you slightly dizzy, how natural it felt to have him this close. It was as if your body already knew this was right, even if your mind was still scrambling to catch up.

"I... you..." Words. You needed words. "You're late."

He pulled back just enough to give you that familiar amused look. "And you're blushing."

Before you could even process that observation—or the fact that your heart was currently attempting to beat its way out of your chest—your mother appeared behind you. "Satoru! We're so glad you could make it!"

He smoothly stepped past you to greet your parents, all charm and apologies for his lateness, seamlessly weaving a plausible story about a last-minute emergency consult and unexpected traffic. He shook your father’s hand with just the right amount of respectful firmness and charmed your mother with a compliment about her festive decorations. All while he left you standing in the doorway, slightly dazed, trying to remember how to perform basic human functions like breathing and blinking.

The slight smirk he threw over his shoulder as he joined the others in the living room told you he knew exactly what he'd done.

Insufferable man.

The dinner was simultaneously the longest and shortest evening of your life. Satoru slipped into the role of doting boyfriend with an unsettling ease, weaving medical anecdotes (carefully tailored for a non-medical audience) and charming compliments into the conversation like he'd been rehearsing for weeks. He even managed to compliment Aunt Marie’s notoriously sweet cheesecake without visibly wincing.

He sat close enough that your legs brushed under the table, his hand finding its way to your knee during your mother's third attempt to bring up wedding venues (she was already browsing bridal magazines online, you’d noticed). The casual touch, which should have made you incredibly nervous, instead felt strangely good, like a shared secret between the two of you in the midst of the family chaos.

"And how did you two actually meet?" your aunt asked over dessert.

"She makes the best coffee in the city," Satoru answered smoothly, his thumb drawing absent circles on your thigh beneath the tablecloth. "Though it took me months to work up the courage to say more than my order."

You nearly choked on your wine. He was mixing truth and fiction so seamlessly you almost believed it yourself. 

Every story he told had just enough reality to make you question your own memory. He mentioned how you study between customers, but added details about imaginary conversations. He even talked about your first "date" with such specificity that you found yourself half-believing it had happened.

His hand never left your leg for long, occasionally squeezing gently when your relatives’ questions became too invasive. Somehow, he’d effortlessly positioned himself as both the charming guest and the attentive boyfriend, deflecting awkward questions with a disarming smile. And you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life as you were for him breaking the pattern on that random, rainy Monday morning.

"He even helped me with pathophysiology," you found yourself saying, leaning into him slightly, enjoying it. Two could play at this game.

"She didn't need much help," he replied, his voice laced with a warmth that sounded genuinely proud. It made your heart flutter. "Just someone to hold her flashcards while she made my ridiculously sweet coffee."

Your father, who hadn't said much all evening, finally smiled. "She works too hard sometimes."

"She does," Satoru agreed, his hand sliding just a fraction higher on your thigh under the table. "Though that's one of the things I admire most about her." A wave of heat rushed to your face, and you quickly looked away, focusing on a particularly uninteresting spot on the tablecloth. This is getting out of hand.

As the conversation shifted to some other topic—something about your uncle's questionable golf swing—you leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for him to hear, "You're awfully charming."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower so that only you could hear. "Funny, you don't seem to hate it." You felt your cheeks burn even hotter now.

By the time dinner ended, your mother was completely smitten, your aunts were bickering over who would host the next family gathering (with Satoru as the guest of honor, of course), and your cousin had somehow convinced him to follow her Instagram—and had already tagged him in three separate stories.

It was all too smooth, too perfect, too real. 

The way he helped you clear the table, his hand brushing the small of your back in a casual, yet intimate touch as he passed. How he effortlessly recalled every detail you’d ever mentioned about your family, from your grandmother’s obsession with crossword puzzles to your father’s love of bad puns. The soft, lingering looks he gave you when he thought no one was watching, filled with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher.

"You're very good at this," you said as you stood side by side at the sink, washing dishes after dinner.

"At what?"

"Playing pretend."

His hands paused for just a moment. "Who says I'm pretending?"

The wine glass you were drying slipped from your suddenly nerveless fingers. You managed to catch it before it shattered on the tile floor, but not before making enough noise to draw his attention.

"Hey." His hand was immediately at your waist, steadying you. "You okay?"

"Fine! I'm fine, just—" You set the glass down carefully, very aware of how close he was standing.  When you turned to face him, you found yourself effectively trapped between his broad frame and the hard edge of the kitchen counter. "Slippery hands. From the... soap."

"Hmm." His eyes searched your face, and for a fleeting moment, you thought—you could have sworn—his gaze flickered down to your lips before returning to meet your eyes. "You know, for someone who spends all day handling hot liquids, you've seemed very clumsy tonight."

"Maybe I'm just… distracted.”

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face as he leaned infinitesimally closer, his eyes fixed on yours. One hand came up to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your cheek, his fingertips grazing your skin, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. "By what?" 

"You're doing it again," you whispered.

"Doing what?"

"Being too convincing."

A slow, almost hesitant smile spread across his face. It was a smile that reached his eyes, a smile that felt utterly real, utterly intimate, making your heart stutter in your chest. "Perhaps," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath against your skin, "maybe I'm not trying to convince anyone anymore."

You could feel his breath ghosting over your lips, the slight tremor in his hand where it rested on your waist, the way the kitchen suddenly felt too warm, too small, too—

"Who wants coffee?" your mother's voice carried from the dining room, making you both jump apart. Satoru cleared his throat, taking a hasty step back, his hand dropping from your waist. 

The rest of dinner passed in a surreal haze, neither of you quite able to forget the charged moment in the kitchen. What was that? You kept replaying the scene in your mind. His hand on your waist, his breath on your lips, the sudden shift in his eyes. It had felt… different. More real than any of the playacting. 

It wasn't until your aunt, after a drawn out round of goodbyes and air kisses, finally got up to leave that anyone noticed the shift in the weather. "Oh my goodness," your mother gasped, pulling back the curtains. "When did it start snowing?"

Outside, the world had transformed into a winter wonderland that would've been charming under different circumstances. At least a foot of snow covered everything, still falling heavily in thick, white sheets.

"The weather alert says it's going to continue all night," your father reported, checking his phone. "They're advising against any travel. Roads are already getting bad."

Your mother immediately switched into hostess mode. "You absolutely can't drive in this, Satoru. These roads won't be plowed until morning, at the earliest."

"I'm sure I can—" he started.

"Absolutely not," she interrupted. "You'll stay here tonight. Both of you."

You nearly choked on air. "Mom—"

"Don't be silly, dear," she said, already bustling towards the hallway. "You can take your old room, of course. It's all made up. Satoru," she called over her shoulder, "I'll go find some spare cloths for you." Then, turning back to you, she added, "And honey, you still have some things in your old room, so it'll be just like old times!"

Old times? What old times? Your childhood bedroom with those old embarrassing school photos and faded posters of your first boyband crush that you’d somehow never gotten around to taking down? This was not part of the plan. This was definitely not part of the plan.

He wasn't supposed to see that side of you.

As you counted down the seconds until you completely died from embarrassment your parents bustled off to prepare the rooms, leaving you and Satoru alone again. He leaned against the window, watching the snow fall, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Convenient weather we're having," you said suspiciously.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you implying I somehow arranged a snowstorm?"

"At this point, I wouldn't put it past you."

His laugh was soft and warm. "As flattered as I am by your faith in my abilities, even I can't control the weather." He glanced at you. "Though I have to admit, this is working out better than my original plan of pretending my car wouldn't start."

"You're impossible," you groaned.

"So I've been told." He pushed off from the window, moving closer. He stopped just inches away, until you could feel the heat from his body. His gaze dropped—or you thought it did, your pulse quickening at the mere possibility—to your lips for the briefest of moments before returning to meet your eyes. You blinked, trying to clear your head. No, it couldn't be. "Though I notice you're not exactly complaining about the situation."

Before you could formulate a witty retort (or even a coherent thought, for that matter), your mother’s voice rang out from upstairs, effectively putting an end to whatever was about to happen. "I found some spare clothes, Satoru! And honey," she called down, "your old band t-shirts are still in your dresser!"

You covered your face with your hands. "Please forget everything she's about to show you."

"Now how could I possibly pass up the chance to see teenage you's fashion choices?" 

You peaked through your fingers to find him smirking, looking far too delighted by this turn of events. This was going to be a very long night.

⋆꙳•❅•̩❅*̩‧͙ *̩❆₊˚｡❆

"I really can sleep on the floor," Satoru offered for the third time, shifting his weight awkwardly in the doorway of your childhood bedroom. He looked around, taking in your teenage decorating choices, and you could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

"Don't be ridiculous." You tried to sound casual as you smoothed down the NASA bedsheets you'd had since high school on your small bed, that suddenly looked barely big enough for one, let alone two adults. "We're both adults. We can share a bed without it being weird."

He was quiet for a moment, and when you glanced up, you found him studying your teenage self's wall decorations with poorly hidden amusement. It was a chaotic mixture of faded movie posters (mostly featuring heartthrobs from your early teens), band posters (an ambarrasing One Direction poster taking center stage), and a poorly crafted periodic table, complete with hand-drawn elements and color-coded categories.

"Nice periodic table," he finally said.

"Shut up," you muttered, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it easily, because of course he did. "Some of us were nerds before med school."

You turned to your old closet, pulling out one of those oversized band t-shirts you'd lived in during high school. You gripped the hem of your sweater, suddenly very aware of his presence in the small room.

You could feel his eyes on you, a weight on your back, and you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. You paused, your fingers frozen on the soft knit. "Um… could you…?" you trailed off, not wanting to meet his gaze.

He didn't say anything, didn't move. You could practically feel his gaze burning into your back. Finally, you turned, holding your band t-shirt protectively in front of you. "Seriously. Turn around."

He blinked. "You know, I am a doctor. I've seen it all."

"Still," you insisted, your cheeks flushing. "Turn. Around."

He sighed, but finally turned his back, though the lingering amusement in his eyes told you he was still enjoying the situation immensely.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you muttered, pulling the t-shirt over your head. You smoothed it down, then took a deep breath. 

"I would never," he said.

"You can turn around now."

He turned, his face carefully composed, though a telltale twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away. His eyes traveled from the hem of the shirt to your face, making your heart stutter. "You look… cute."

"You're a terrible liar.”

You both settled into bed with careful movements, lying rigid as boards, backs facing each other in a vain attempt at maintaining some sort of personal space. The mattress, however, had other plans. It dipped under his weight, creating a subtle slope that kept trying to draw you toward the center—toward him. 

Your childhood bed, which had seemed perfectly adequate when you were sixteen, now felt absurdly small. You pressed against the edge, but it was no use, there couldn't have been more than a few inches between your back and his. You could feel the heat of his body, warming the small space between you, his every breath, the subtle shift of the sheets when he moved.

The silence stretched, filled only with the sound of falling snow outside your window and your own heartbeat. It felt so loud, you were certain he could hear it.

"Thank you," you finally whispered into the darkness. "For tonight. For all of it. You didn't have to do any of this."

The bed shifted as he turned over. After a moment's hesitation, you did too, finding yourself face to face with him in the dim light of the streetlamp filtering through your old curtains. His hair was disheveled from the pillow, his expression softer than you'd ever seen it.

"It was fun," he said simply, his breath warm against your cheek.

A small laugh escaped your lips. "Fun? My mom interrogated you about your entire medical history, my dad made you look at his coin collection for an hour, and my cousin tried to show you every embarrassing photo of me from middle school."

"The braces years were particularly charming."

You kicked his shin lightly under the covers. "Shut up."

He grinned, the warmth in his eyes visible even in the dim light. "I mean it, though. Your family is… lively."

"That's a polite way of saying chaotic."

"They care about you. It's nice."

You studied his face, searching for the truth in his words. "Why did you really come tonight? You could have easily found an excuse to avoid this disaster of a family dinner."

"Would you believe me if I said I wanted to?"

"No," you said. "Nobody wants to spend their evening being questioned by my parents and subjected to my aunt's weird baking."

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more serious. "Maybe I wanted to understand you better. See where you came from. Meet the people who made you... you."

Your heart stuttered in your chest. "Why would you care about any of that?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

You stared at him, suddenly very aware of how close you were, how little space there was between you in this too-small bed. "No," you whispered. "It's not obvious at all."

"Then I must be doing a terrible job of showing you."

Your heart was racing now, your voice barely audible. "Showing me what?"

Before you could respond, he shifted, until he was hovering above you. Your breath caught at the change, at how his white hair fell forward framing his face, at how his eyes seemed to hold entire galaxies in them.

And then he kissed you.

The kiss was nothing like the casual touch of lips from before. It was soft, sweet, and achingly tender at first. He moved against you slowly, his lips parting slightly, inviting you to deepen the kiss. You met his silent invitation, your own lips parting in response. One hand cupped your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, while the other braced against the mattress, supporting his weight. 

Then, with a soft sigh, he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency that made your heart ache with a longing you hadn’t known you carried. He pulled you closer, just a fraction, the kiss becoming more urgent, more demanding, yet still laced with a surprising tenderness. 

You could feel the rapid thump of his heart against your own chest but then, just as suddenly as it began, he pulled back, breaking the kiss. He didn't move far, though, remaining close enough that you could still feel his breath on your face, see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. "Still think I'm just playing pretend?"

This time, you didn't hesitate. You were the one who moved forward, your hand sliding into his hair, the soft strands tangling around your fingers, pulling him back down to you. His surprised intake of breath was quickly lost as your lips met again.

This kiss was different—deeper, more urgent, six months of watching and waiting poured into a single moment. He made a low sound in his throat as your fingers tightened in his hair, urging him closer. 

His own hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers pressing gently into the sensitive skin there. The weight of him pressed you into the mattress, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of your band t-shirt.

"I've wanted to do that since the first time you rolled your eyes at my coffee order," he said against your lips, his voice rough in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

"That long?" You tried to sound teasing, but it came out breathless instead.

He smiled against your lips. "Longer, probably." He pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another to your jawline. "Though watching you try to diagnose yourself with every terrible disease I mentioned was pretty entertaining, too."

You groaned, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Never," he agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple. Then, quieter, more intimate, "But I've got plenty of time to make it up to you."

His lips trailed down your neck, each gentle press sending shivers through your body. When he reached the collar of your t-shirt, he paused, his fingers toying with the hem. "Can I?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice, and he slowly, teasingly, pushed the fabric up, revealing your stomach inch by inch. The first brush of his lips against your bare skin made you gasp, your fingers tightening reflexively in his silky hair.

He took his time, pressing kisses to your belly, your ribs, the valley between your breasts. His tongue darted out, tasting your skin, leaving trails of fire in its wake. Your back arched, subtly at first, but with increasing urgency as his lips and hands explored your skin.

His fingers, still toying with the hem of your shirt, finally slipped beneath the fabric. He traced the curve of your waist, the swell of your breasts, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When his thumbs brushed over your nipples, you couldn't suppress the moan that escaped your lips. "More," you whispered, the word barely audible, but he heard it, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"You sure?"

"Yes," you breathed. "Please."

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your sleeping shorts. Your heart raced, your skin flushed, every nerve ending racing with the promise of what was to come.

He dragged the fabric down your legs, the cool air hitting your heated skin making you shiver. He settled between your thighs, his broad shoulders forcing your legs wider, and lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, his kisses trailing down your inner thigh. And then his mouth was on you, and the world fell away. 

⋆꙳•❅•̩❅*̩‧͙ *̩❆₊˚｡❆

The next morning felt like stepping into a dream—a world where Dr. Satoru Gojo, the man you’d spent six months convinced was silently diagnosing you with rare diseases, was actually just a man utterly smitten with you.

It was as if a blurry lens had finally snapped into focus, revealing a picture so obvious you almost laughed. All those intense stares, the carefully timed coffee shop visits, the way he’d linger at your counter, even helping you study—it had never been about mysterious illnesses or professional concern. 

He’d simply been trying to be near you, and you’d been too busy inventing medical mysteries to notice.

And the most embarrassing part? How obvious it had been to everyone else. Your coworkers’ knowing looks finally made sense, as did your mother’s immediate acceptance of him as your “boyfriend.” Even his colleagues had been in on it, helping stage that ridiculous Christmas video call just to make you smile. 

When you later confessed your obliviousness to your coworkers, their reactions ranged from “Finally!” to a bewildered “Wait, you mean he wasn’t actually your boyfriend this whole time?”

Over breakfast, as he effortlessly charmed your mother into accepting a third helping of pancakes he casually dropped the bomb to your mom, “I actually rearranged my entire consultation schedule to match her shifts. I don't even like coffee."

Your mind went blank for a moment. He… what? Then, the implications crashed down on you. He’d rearranged his entire work schedule just to see you. And he hated coffee. He’d only ever ordered those sugary lattes because… because of you.

A blush crept up your neck, and you couldn't believe how adorably dense you’d been.

He met your gaze then, his blue eyes softening in that way that always made your heart flutter. Only now you understood what that look truly meant. He hadn’t been studying you. He’d been cherishing you with his gaze. He’d wanted to see you, to be near you, to simply be with you. And the realization made you ridiculously, undeniably happy.

Satoru walked over to you from where he stood next to your mom and leaned down, his breath warm against your temple, and pressed a soft kiss there. You closed your eyes, savoring the simple touch. God, you wanted more. You wanted him closer, his arms around you, his lips on yours again, just like last night.

You'll probably never get enough of that.

He pulled back slightly, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. His gaze held yours, a soft smile playing on his lips. Then he whispered three words that made your world stand still, "I love you."

Three little words.

But those three words little changed everything.

It felt as though time itself had stopped. He loves me, the thought echoed in your mind, a fragile, beautiful sound you couldn't quite believe was real. You’d imagined this moment countless times in secret, tucked away in the quiet corners of your heart, but you'd never truly believed it could happen.

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his hand, the sweet scent of pancakes, and the soft morning light filtering through the kitchen window, you knew you’d never been happier in your entire life. 

And most importantly, you didn't have to pretend anymore. He wasn't just someone you were pretending to date for your family's sake. He was actually your boyfriend. Really, truly your boyfriend. And what had once felt like a performance suddenly felt very much like coming home.

But the best part? At exactly 7:15 the next morning, he still walked in, ordered his usual diabetes in a cup, and watched you work with those intense blue eyes. Only now, when you handed him his drink, he'd pull you close for a kiss that tasted of caramel and cinnamon.

"You know," he said one morning, watching you make his order, "for someone smart enough to get into med school, you were remarkably dense about this whole thing."

"Says the man who spent six months staring instead of just asking me out."

"I was building suspense."

"You were being creepy."

"Maybe," he said, then smilled. "But it worked, didn't it?"

And really, you couldn't argue with that. Though you did make his next latte extra sweet, just to watch him pretend to enjoy it.

After all, some things were worth suffering through overly sugary coffee for.

masterlist

author's note — if you're familiar with a certain story on my blog, then no you didn't see this story, and this is definitely not a healthier version of another couple, and i absolutely do not have a thing for medical AUs, okay thank you.

anway, this was supposed to get spicier, but time got away from me because i really wanted to share it with you all for christmas so this is only suggestive, but i hope you enjoyed it either way. & thank you so much for reading this far !! your support means everything to me.

wishing you all a very merry christmas !! hope your holidays are filled with sweet coffee, warm embraces, and maybe even a handsome doctor of your own <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @snowsilver2000 @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan @bloopsstuff

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[everythingspokenfor]

Casually thinking about older!Bakugou . As usual, all characters are aged up 18+. MDNI.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Older!Bakugou who is still in his early 30s, being pestered by his mother to at least get a girlfriend (and eventually settle down). She is afraid she'll never be able to meet her grandkids if this continues.

Older!Bakugou who has attended weddings of his friends, co-workers and even few of the people he had rescued. Although, had no intention of settling down anytime soon, wanting to focus on hero work because it gave him a drive, something to look forward too.

Older!Bakugou who was never really interested in any women that threw themselves at him, always keeping to himself, mellowed out with age. His friends no longer setting him up on blind dates because it was all in vain.

Older!Bakugou who hires a new support tech, because he was impressed by the work. Who meets the newbie in the hallway of the building, screaming at a rookie prohero.

"this is my resume", you shoved an open file into the rookie's face,"on page 12 it list all the things I was hired for", you pause pulling the folder, skimming through the pages to open page 12, he assumes. "Here, now read carefully, does it say 'write reports for rookies because they are apparently incapable of writing it' huh?", you slam the folder shut on the table. " Don't ever expect to do your work, rookie."

You turned around and left the hallway, not really noticing that you almost ran into Pro-hero: Dynamight.

Older!Bakugou who observes you working around the lab, fierce support tech that minds her business and prefers talking to her projects over actual people. Diligent with her work, getting her job done.

Older!Bakugou who enters the lab one day because his gauntlet need to repaired.

"they are too chunky." You don't really have a filter, already working on dismantling the whole thing, not sparing Bakugou a glance.

"You should focus on your work, kid." He was already staring at you.

"What do you think I am doing, Dynamight? This chunk isn't going to fix itself."

He is glad that your words remains same, irrespective of who you are talking to. Always stating the obvious.

"watch it, kid." He walked out of the lab.

Older!Bakugou who is surprised when the new tech remodels his gauntlets but also repairs the old ones, showing him the perks of new ones while still repairing the old ones just in case he doesn't like the new ones.

Older!Bakugou who, at 32, finds himself horrified by the idea that he might be interested, in someone, someone who is younger than him. You are 24, barely am adult in his eyes. You are smart, snarky and considerate.

You explain things to people, help around the lab, yet you are still sharp can take a joke, can make a joke.

Older!Bakugou that is nervous, prospect of asking out a girl making him sweat. He stands at the entrance of your lab, clear door doing nothing to hide his hulking frame, you are still working on something, hunched over a table with a chunky metal in hand.

"you know, I can see you, right?"

He lets out a breath, a small smile breaking onto his face, he moves into the lab. You notice he is wearing casual clothes, sweatpants and a t-shirt, carrying take-out boxes in his hand.

"I was getting dinner, thought I'd get you some too." He is already setting up on the 'not work table' in the room, already aware of what would happen if he put food on your 'work table'.

"What did you do, boss?" You voiced suspiciously, already moving to wash your hands.

"Can't even get people dinner in this economy"

"People", faux disbelief evident in your voice,"I wouldn't call me people, boss" you pulled the chair out and sat in front of him.

"Why not, tech?" He teased, handing you pair of chopsticks.

You look at him with mischief in your eyes, you lean over and play your hand around you mouth, almost as if sharing a secret,"Because you don't practice asking 'people' out, Suki."

His eyes widened,"You heard that? I thought the glass door was fucking sound proof." He let out a sigh, hours of practising and he doesn't even get a chance to say it.

"They are soundproof. From the inside tho." You looked over to him, before placing your hand over his," And I'll go on that date, also we should totally check the sound proofing of the lab tonight."

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

[burnforyou]

TUTOR - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! this COULD be a part 2 to creep but it can also be read as a stand alone. nerdy Luigi is tutoring reader and he gets head for the first time!!! he's subby (ish) and innocent <3 enjoy!

“do you think you understand it now?” he asks, putting his pen down. you hesitate.

“can i ask you something?” you look up from the chemistry papers scattered on your desk to his face. how is he so pretty? he looks so ravishing in his perfect maroon sweater with a button up underneath. the color makes his skin glow.

from the moment he walked into your house, you'd been trying to come up with a plan to get him into your bed. and when you saw how hard he was under the table, you knew he was feeling the same way. had you purposefully worn small pajama shorts to try and tease him? yeah, maybe, but your plan was pretty successful, so you weren't ashamed.

little did you know, he's been hard since before he even entered your house. did the sight of your practically bare legs make it worse? yeah, definitely, but he'd been trying to calm himself down all day but nothing has seemed to do the trick. just the thought of walking into your home has had him worked up all week. when he saw you requesting tutoring he almost cried.

“sure, what’s up?” you place your manicured hand on his thigh and he stiffens. his eyebrows furrow and his dark eyes flicker between your hand and face.

“are you a virgin?” he freezes. is it that obvious? he sits there in silence for a few seconds, frozen. his mind goes completely blank, what do I even say? fuck, I have the most beautiful, smart, woman sitting in front of me and she wants to know if I'm a virgin?

“you don’t have to answer that, it’s just that-“

“i am.” he spoke up, looking away shamefully.

“no, no, no, i’m not judging you. i just noticed that, you uh, are kinda in a sticky situation down there and, i haven’t even touched you.” he looks down and tries to adjust the tent his hard cock has made in his jeans.

“don’t be ashamed," you slide your hand further up his thigh and move closer to him, "I just want to repay you for helping me so much, with chemistry and calc, if that's okay with you."

"yeah," he squeaks out, embarrassed at how high pitch his voice comes out. you suggest going up to your bedroom and he complies, following behind you silently. he struggles to tear his eyes away from your ass, watching it move up the stairs.

he plops down on the edge of the bed and you push him back until he's sat against your headboard. you crawl up the bed to him and sit on his lap. his hips buck and his mouth opens at the sudden friction on his already hard cock. he felt so overwhelmed: your scent surrounding him, being in your bed, you on top of him, for fucks sake.

you lean in and capture his lips with yours, his lips naturally molding against yours. you press your hands lightly on the sides of his neck. his hands stay awkwardly at his sides, gripping onto your sheets every time you grind on him through your thin pajama shorts. you break the kiss and smile down at him, holding his head carefully. he looks up at you with his doe eyes and a million thoughts swirl through his mind.

"you can touch me, you know that right?" you whisper.

he nods silently and hesitantly places his hands on your hips.

“has anyone ever touched you before?”

he shakes his head. you lean down and kiss him again. this time, he breaks the kiss with a question.

"are you sure you want to do this? you don't have to repay me for anything."

"oh I'm sure, I've been plotting on you for a while now."

"r-really?" he struggles to get out, shock evident in his voice.

"don't act all innocent now, I know that you think about me. I see you in class, looking at me the whole time. its just surprising that you're a virgin, especially for a handsome guy like you." his face flushes at your compliment, his lips threatening a smile. "now, let's get this sweater off, hm?"

he allows you to tear his maroon sweater off his body and discard it on your floor. you admire his abs by running your hands up and down his chest, content with yourself. he sits there and wonders how much you truly know about him, if you know he's truly a creep, deep down.

"do you want to know a secret?" you say, looking down at him. he nods eagerly and you laugh.

"you're so eager," you giggle. you lean down, putting your lips right on his ear teasingly. "I know that you watch me through my window."

his whole body stiffens and all the color drains from his face.

"I touched myself too that night." you say, smiling down at him. he's not sure what to do, whether he should be happy or ashamed. before he can come up with something to say, you're dragging your hands down his body, kissing all over him. you smirk as you kiss directly down his happy trail, finally reaching his waist band. you fiddle with the button and pull the zipper down smoothly.

he quickly picks his hips up, pulling down his jeans and boxers at the same time. you lick your lips at the sight of his heavy cock, so hard it sprang against his stomach.

you leaned up, connecting your lips with his once again and simultaneously reached down to grasp his cock. he broke the kiss with a gasp and he screwed his eyes shut tight at the feeling of your soft hand gripping him.

"you're so big," you say, looking down to admire his pulsing cock in your hand. his tip shone with pre-cum, red and needy. he whimpered at your compliment, his face almost as pink as his dick.

you bent down, pressed a kiss on his tip and licked down his length. he let out a noise similar to a whine.

"please," he whimpered. you finally wrapped your lips around his tip, looking up at him to watch his reaction. he squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp. he instantly bucked his hips into you and groaned, your mouth welcoming him further.

"fuck," his hands flew to your head, gripping onto your hair. you wrapped your hand around his hairy base and moved your lips up and down his girth, settling into a gentle but fast pace.

"baby, oh," he whimpers, letting out a low, guttural sound when his tip hits the back of your throat. his chest rises and falls faster than he thought was humanly possible.

you keep taking him so deep it has tears streaking down your face and saliva down onto his balls. it felt like something straight out of his fantasies.

"y/n, just like that," his moans fill the room, making you weak. you come up for air, your lips letting go of his cock with a satisfying pop. he removes his hand from your hair and caresses your wet face.

"you're so perfect." he says, smiling. “it feels so much better than i’ve ever imagined.”

you go back down on his cock, completely taking him once again, never breaking eye contact. his tip hits the back of your throat and this time it has him shooting hot cum down your throat. he lets out a shocked groan and his head falls back, his Adams apple bobbing. you swallow all of it and lick down his cock, cleaning him off completely.

"fuck, I'm so sorry y/n, I didn't mean to cum so quick." he looks away, ashamed. you reach for him and force him to look at you.

"you're alright," you say, giggling again.

"it just felt so good, nothing like I've ever imagined." he confesses, rubbing the back of his neck. he suddenly realizes how vulnerable he is, sitting on your bed completely naked and fucked out of his mind while you're completely dressed and satisfied. he likes the power you hold over him.

months of yearning for you have all built up to this moment. he reaches for you and swings your leg over his lap, planting you on his already re-hardening cock. he leans into you and kisses you, finally full of confidence and a need to have all of you.

have you ever tried this one?

I AM UNSTOPPABLE!!!!!!!!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS FREAKS!!!!!

!TAGS!

@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @bricapallen16 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood

[chiumii]

pretty best friend ~ park sunghoon x reader

inspired by this request ! ౨ৎ ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 성훈 ] ☆ in which sunghoon helps his cute, innocent little best friend out after she asks for some.... advice. and despite knowing that he's a player - you had feelings for him anyways.. but little did you know he feels the same way.

word count ; 4.7k

best friend! player! sunghoon x nerd! reader , friends to lovers , blowjob , oral , fingering , hand job , very slight hints at ; corruption ; manipulation . curious reader , size kink , mutual feelings , HEAD PUSHER HOON YES YES YES , cum eating , not proof read

"sungie" you squeal , the feeling of sunghoons fingers squeezing your waist results in a loud laugh to sound from the back of your throat. sunghoons deep, raspy chuckles make a deep heat pool in the pit of your stomach , a guilty feeling lingering on your conscience for thinking of him in the ways you do. the way his hands feel on your skin makes you feel light headed - whether it be from the tickling, or the fact that he was touching you at all - the answer was unknown , and quite frankly; you didn't care enough to know.

as you lay beneath him, your legs attempt to kick his body away from yours - your hands find their way to his broad shoulders in order to push him back. but as you lay under him squealing his name - everything around you begins to feel rapidly hot , and sunghoon feels the exact same way.

the way his big hands swallow the entirety of your waist , your little legs desperately fighting against him, and the way his name spills past your lips.

all he wants to do is kiss them to shut you up, fuck you raw right there, make you scream his name, begging for him to grant you release.

suddenly, the memory of different girls begins to flash through his mind ; all the different times he's had multiple women screeching his name , begging him to fuck them faster - harder . but as of right now, the only woman he can truly adore to the fullest extent was already writhing underneath him.... but not in the ways he wants.

sunghoon comes back to his senses once he hears you whisperly call his name, a perfect little string of music that flows right into his ears that snaps him out of his lustful daze.

"s-sungie...?" you question, your round, doe eyes looking up at him through your eyelashes. sunghoon can feel himself tighten in his jeans, making him uncomfortable.

"how many girls have you had under you like this..." the question slips from your lips without consciousness , making you instantly shut your mouth , regret beginning to pool in your mind.

sunghoons face instantly changes , his eyes holding the utmost sincerity... sadness at the mention of the other women.

"... 'm sorry.." you whisper, your eyes darting away from him in order to look at something - anything else but him. sunghoon sighs and sits up, you following in pursuit. the two of you awkwardly sit next to eachother, the silence lingering in the air above you.

sunghoon chuckles before speaking, making you look at him in confusion.

"well, if im honest... too many to count really. i don't remember a good handful of them.." he smirks slightly at you, making a deep blush rise to your cheeks.

"so... you're experienced??" you question, making sunghoon tongue the inside of his cheek. he stretches one arm around you in order to rest on the couch, his legs spreading apart... inviting.

"yeah, i guess you can say i am... now; how about we get back to studying... you have a test coming up, dont you?" you respond with a head nod, making the man next to you grab a textbook from off the coffee table and handing it to you.

your glasses are perched on the tip of your nose , so you push them up.

you were a freshman in college, and the transition from highschool to university life was definitely kicking your ass. of course, you had always been keen to school life; you enjoyed it really. you loved learning new things and carrying around cute school supplies, it made you feel good about yourself whenever you learned something new... made you feel smart... so you kept going on with your love for learning into your early college years.

sunghoon, on the otherhand, was a couple years older than you; a senior in college. although he a couple years older, that didn't stop the two of you from being inseparable from an early age.

around an hour later, you hear sunghoon groan from the other side of the couch, pushing his glasses up and over his head.

"i'm not understanding, y/n... why on earth would you major in something so difficult... i don't even understand this and i've been in college longer than you have.” his messy hair being pushed back makes him look ten times more attractive.

"i dunno... i guess i just wanted a challenge." you shrug your shoulders, making the man across from you deadpan.

"whatever, lets just take a break and come back to it in a bit" he says, grabbing the book and pen from out of your hands and setting them back down on the coffee table. as sunghoon reaches over, you take note of his appearance; rolled up sleeves that stop right above his elbow, disheveled hair, tired eyes, and full lips.

as sunghoon turns to you, a deep shade of pink arises on your cheeks. you look away from him, trying not to seem awkward.

"so, y/n.. tell me; have you had sex yet?" you nearly scream at his words, choking on your own spit as soon as they leave his mouth. you turn and face him ominously, your face completely red and your eyes as wide as the moon.

"what on earth... why are you asking me this?" you squeal, hitting his bicep. sunghoon chuckles at your flustered state, his heart swelling in his chest at your actions.

"i'm just asking, come on you're in college... you had to have lost your v-card by now" he taunts, but quickly loses all sort of amusement laced in his expression once you turn to face your lap, playing with your fingers.

"well... there is this guy i like... but we havent done anything yet. im too scared. i dont know what im doing..." you look up into his eyes through your eyelashes, not turning your head to face him. sunghoon leans back into the cushions of the couch, spreading his arms to dangle on both sides of the back of the piece of furniture. sunghoon raises his eyebrows, urging you to continue.

"i- i was.. uhm... wondering if-- i don't know... you could possibly teach me..?" your voice was small... but sunghoon heard it as clear as day. now it was his turn to choke on his spit, completely flustered by your question.

he quickly gets his act together, smirking at your shy demeanor. you feel helpless under his gaze, quickly regretting your question.

"you don't have to, it was a dumb question im sor-"

"what would you like me to teach you, love?" he asks, his eyes never leaving your smaller figure. you raise your head completely, your hands still fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. you ponder for a moment, debating on how to answer his question before speaking once more.

"i want... i want to know how to suck.. uhm,, god this is so dumb.." you sadly chuckle to yourself with a shake of your head, breaking eye contact. sunghoon eyes you for a moment, instantly knowing what you wish to know.

"you wanna know how to suck cock?" you nod your head slowly, stunned at his straightforwardness. sunghoon eyes you for a moment more before lifting one of his hands up, motioning with his index finger for you to come to him; so you do.

"come here" your feet patter on the cool hardwood floor, stopping to stand in front of sunghoons spread legs. the man chuckles from below you, his hands coming in contact with the back of your thighs right below your ass.

"are you sure you wanna do this" you instantly nod your head without a second thought, wanting nothing more than for sunghoon to teach you how to pleasure a man,,,

the very one who sits before you , actually

at your words, he instantly brings you to sit on his lap, your knees meeting with the plush cushioning of the couch on either side of his hips. your face is mere centimeters away from his, your breaths fanning one another’s face.

"first... you don't want to just jump straight into it. both men and women need some sort of foreplay.. and the easiest version of that is kissing; a makeout session really." the two of you stare at eachother for a moment, one of sunghoons hands comes up to push a stray hair away from your face and behind your ear. your heart is beating out of your chest, your head feeling light and he hasnt even touched you yet.

"can i kiss you?" sunghoon asks, which makes your stomach erupt in butterflies. you shakingly exhale before nodding your head without saying anything. the man above you looks down at your lips before trailing them back up towards your wide eyes - eyeballing you shamelessly.

sunghoon slowly brings your lips to his own, the heat pooling in the pit of your abdomen deepening significantly the moment his mouth collides with yours softly. your lips are full and glossy, but is quickly smeared thanks to sunghoon.

after a long second, the two of you pull away to breathe... looking at eachother fully, longingly. the tension in the room as thick as ice is quickly cut, sunghoons hand cupping your cheek brings your face down frantically - your guys' lips meeting eachother once more... but this time its much different.

you feel both of his hands move to the slope of your waist, pulling you into him further - your back arching and your body curling into his front.

your hands slide up from his shoulders in order to wrap around his neck, your fingers lacing in with his dark hair. your breasts press up against his chest, and your lips move perfectly in sync with his.

the sounds of your heavy breathing fill the room along with sloppy lip smacking, but neither of you complain. sunghoons hands move your hips down onto his lap, the bulge quickly tightening in his jeans. you gasp when you feel his hardening length press right up against your clothed pussy, your fingers tightening in his hair cause him to groan into the cavern of your wet mouth.

you shiver under his touch, his fingers feather light as you curl into him deeper. every inch of your body yerns for the man above you, making a whimper escape your lips.

the kiss quickly deescalates as you pull away from sunghoons lips in order for air - but not before he pecks your lips a couple times. he leans back into the couch, the two of you exchanging aching, yearnful glances. your heavy breathing matches his - your chests' rising and falling in unison.

"sunghoon..." your eyes are half lidded as you speak, and it begins to drive sunghoon up the wall. he admires the adorable look on your face , everything about you is perfect and it frustrates him beyond belief. although he is experienced, he feels like a teenage boy having his first makeout session.

"yeah baby?" he calls out to you breathlessly, making your pussy clench. you dont break eye contact as you speak, making a shiver run up sunghoons spine.

"can i suck your cock... please..?" you ask nicely, in an almost pleading tone. it takes every ounce of restraint in order to stop himself from bending you over the couch and stuffing you full of his cum, fucking it deeper and deeper inside you - permanently marking you as his.

his woman.

"of course you can doll, go right ahead" he leans further back into the couch, getting a full view of you perched cutely in his lap - your skirt riding up your thighs and your zip-up hoodie falling off one of your shoulders.

you slowly get off the mans lap, a prominent bulge showing in his jeans. your mouth waters at the sight, excitement flowing through your veins. as you sink to your knees, you maintain eyecontact with the man above you, your pussy clenching around nothing at his lustful gaze.

your hands work at his zipper, pulling his pants down past his ankles. the tent in his boxers grows exponentially bigger, and you can tell that he's fucking huge. you stop to stare at him, eyeballing the outline of his dick through his underwear.

on instinct, you reach a hand out in order to palm him through the flimsy fabric of his boxers - making sunghoon hiss from above you. your eyes don't look away from his length, not for a second as you jerk him off slightly. a prominent wet patch begins to form on the light color of his underwear, making a gasp leave your lips.

"did i... did i make you.. already..?" you gawk up at him, making a laugh bubble up from his chest. you tilt your head to the side in question, and sunghoon finds it so fucking adorable at the realization of how innocent you actually are.

"no baby... thats just precum, you really don't know anything huh? how can you be so smart yet naive at the same time?" he taunts jokingly, mimicking your actions and tilting his head to the side.

you deadpan at the man, an unentertained look spreading across your face. without looking away, you bring your fingers to the tip of his dick, wrapping your hands around his head and squeezing slightly, making more precum stain his boxers.

sunghoon hisses, letting out a string of loud curses at your actions. you smile to yourself slightly, finding it funny just how fast you can make him fall apart in your hands.

you gasp at the feeling of one of his hands in your hair, yanking your head back slightly in order to make your eyes meet with his. every ounce of playfulness leaves your body as the older man stares into your eyes , a threatening look lingering written on his face

"don't be a brat. understand?" you pout your lips, but nod your head anyways. sunghoon leans down in order to kiss the tip of your nose before letting you go gently.

"good girl" he compliments, making your cheeks flush for the nth time that evening. your hands reach up to the waistline of his boxers, slowly pulling them down his legs and past his ankles. sunghoons pretty cock springs free, shooting up to slap his abdomen, his bulbous tip hitting right at his belly button.

fat, pearly drops of precum leak from his tip and down his shaft, making your eyes widen. you were right; he is huge. you gawk at the length, making his ego swell.

"never seen a dick before, huh?" you shake your head no, at least not in person.. one of your hands reaching up in order to softly grab the base of his cock in your hands. sunghoon observes your actions intently, his eyes burning holes into your skull. your hand lightly wraps around his cock, squeezing his length slightly. it takes you a moment; but you begin to pump him. you watch as more pearly beads of precum leak out of his tip, finding the sight mesmerizing.

after pumping his dick for a little bit, you bring your lips closer to the tip of his shaft, sticking your tongue out slightly in order to kitten lick the slit of his head.

sunghoon has had his dick sucked many times before... but with the way you keep looking up at him through his eyelashes - searching for any sort of validation that you're doing a good job is making him feel like a virgin again.

only you could have this sort of effect on him. he could just about reach down his throat and rip his heart out and give it to you on a silver platter.

you kitten lick his tip over and over - getting used to the salty taste of his warm seed before you take the head of his dick into your mouth completely. the warmth that your velvety, wet mouth provides makes him shudder under your gaze, his eyes rolling back into his skull ever so slightly. you attempt to take his cock deeper into your mouth, but the odd taste of his salty precum makes you gag around his length - you quickly pull off of him and cough , not used to the feeling of him being in your throat in the slightest.

sunghoon finds your actions cute - his ego expanding ever so slightly.

"god... its so- its so much.." you say in heavy breaths, trying to compose yourself. sunghoon looks down at you, his eyes holding admiration.

"its okay baby, take your time okay? this is normal. you've never sucked anybody off before. its alright, go nice and slow.." his voice trails off as you take his head back into your mouth, attempting to get used to his taste even more. you hollow your cheeks, your tongue swirling around his tip as you begin to bob your head up and down slightly - almost as if you were sucking on the tip of a lolipop.

every time you pull yourself off of his dick, your tongue runs over the slit of his tip, gathering his precum on your tongue. you look up at sunghoon - your doe eyes making direct eye contact with his as you lick down his entire length, running your tongue down the underside of his cock.

"fuck just like that.." he moans at the feeling of your tongue and the sinful sight of your eyes and actions - he feels like he could bust right then and there all over your face and he would enjoy it to the fullest.

"s-so fucking good... good girl" you're making it hard to believe you've never done this, but it's the truth. you take his tip into your mouth once more, your head moving up and down as you begin to suck him off again. one of your hands moves towards the base of his dick, gripping it in your hand as you begin to jerk off the remaining length you haven't fit into your mouth yet.

you hear another moan sound from just above you, making your confidence sky rocket. your hand and mouth move around him, the combined slick of your saliva and his precum making the perfect lubricant in order to have him shaking in your hold.

"god fucking... fuck. just like that... doin' such a good job.." at the sound of his praise, you start to take his length deeper down your throat, your eyes watering at the weird feeling. you breathe in deeply through your nose, adjusting to the newfound feeling. you swallow around him, making sunghoon buck his hips into your face on accident. you gag around him, but decide to continue on. your head bobs faster up and down sunghoons cock, your hand that was previously jerking him off coming down to grip his balls in your hands - fondling and playing with them.

"oh my fucking god, takin' my cock so well.." he praises. the dampness in your eyes falls freely down your warm, flushed cheeks but you could care less. as you breathe in through your nose, you swallow around him again, making sure to keep your cheeks hollowed while your tongue runs along the vein that trails down on the underside of his cock.

one of sunghoons hands comes down to wrap itself in your hair, his fingers tugging on your colored locks. at first, he just keeps his hand in your hair - but as you keep using your pretty little mouth in all the ways that you do ; he begins to push your head up and down .

a hum leaves your throat, which in turn sends vibrations throughout sunghoons entire body.

"s-shit-" he curses, the grip in your hair tightening significantly before he forces you to take his dick deeper, his bulbous tip hitting the back of your throat. you attempt to cough around his length, your nose coming down to press snugly against his pelvis.

you swallow around him again, more tears escaping your eyes as you try your best not to disappoint him. sunghoon just about falls apart from under you; his hips sputtering against your face in a sloppy grinding rhythm that has you gripping his thighs to ground yourself.

after a moment, sunghoon loosens his hold on you, letting you come up for air.

but the way you keep bobbing your head up and down on his cock takes him by surprise.

"s-so warm.. god you're perfect" your mouth comes up to suck on his tip once more, and before you can even look up to see his reaction - you feel his cock twitch in your mouth

"im- im gonna cum fuck... where do you want me baby?" you've heard of girls swallowing their boyfriends cum before, so it cant be so bad right? you keep your glossy lips wrapped around his tip as you suck down a little rougher, your hand coming down to play with his balls once more. you hear a raspy 'fuck' before you feel his salty, warm cum shoot into your mouth.

you instantly regret your decision, the taste being unfamiliar and weird has you gagging and shaking your head - but your ego tells you to continue, so you do.

you take his load into your mouth before detaching from his head, his dick beginning to soften ever so slightly. sunghoon looks down at you before he raises his hand to grab your face lightly inbetween his fingers. your lips part slightly, making a couple drops of his cum drip down your chin.

"god you're perfect... you wanna spit it out love?" you ponder for a second, but ultimately decide on swallowing his load. your face contorts into a sour expression, showing your distaste. sunghoon coos at you, a soft laugh sounding from his mouth.

"you're so fucking adorable, you didn't have to swallow sweetheart..." he pouts, making you smile slightly.

"i wanted to, i thought that was normal..... it tasted- weird." you giggle, and sunghoon leans down to kiss your forehead as he cups your cheek.

"now... how about i show you something else too, huh?" you shoot him a questioning look before he lifts you up onto the cough, laying you down so your back is flush against the cushions of the couch. you look up at sunghoon and wrap your arms around his shoulders before he leans down to kiss you, taking your lips in his.

you feel his hands sneak down to your waist, pinning your body down against the couch. his lips move in a steady, perfect rhythm with his that has you quietly whimpering into his mouth. the man detaches from your lips only to start trailing wet kisses down the skin of your neck.

your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of him sucking deep purple hickeys into your skin, desperate moans filling the air around you.

"s-sung..." he hums at the sound of his name leaving your lips, acknowledging you quietly. the man then trails his kisses down your body tauntingly slow before he reaches the waistband of your little skirt.

sunghoon looks up at you through his eyebrows before kissing your pelvis bone through the fabric of your skirt. your chest heaves up and down in short, frantic breaths once you feel his cold hands slide up the sides of your thighs , trailing them upwards and under your skirt.

"can i take this off?" you rapidly blink, questioning his motives.

"hoon... w-wait i thought... you were- i thought..." he cocks his eyebrows up, making your wetness pool in your panties.

"will you let me show you what it feels like to have your pussy ate, my love? want hoonie to make you feel good?" you ponder for a second, hesitating on the thought.

"what if.. what if i taste bad or i can't finish,,, or-"

"baby, i don't care. let me taste this pretty pussy, yeah? wanna let sungie fuck you with his tongue? split you apart?" you whimper at his vulgar words, your eyes fluttering closed while you shake your head yes.

at the confirmation, he slides the fabric of your skirt down and passed your ankles, throwing it down on the ground to be forgotten. sunghoon refocuses his attention to the prominent wet patch littering the pink lacy underwear.

"god, you're so wet already and i haven't even touched you" he teases you through half lidded eyes, the cold pad of his finger coming in contact with your clothed clit. you whine at his actions, the butterflies in your stomach making your head cloud over with nothing but the dirty, vile thoughts of everything you want sunghoon to do to you.

the way he gently starts to massage shapes into your bundle of nerves has you quietly speaking his name, your hands coming down to bunch his hair inbetween your fingers.

sunghoon pushes your panties to the side, his fingers slipping through your wet folds. a hiss sounds from just below your hips, the feeling of your slick dripping through his fingers is indescribable.

"such a pretty pussy" he eyeballs you, making you feel shy underneath his lingering gaze.

your clit twitches repeatedly thanks to the gentle friction he creates, your back arching off the couch in order to help your hips grind into his hand.

after a moment, you feel sunghoon plunge a long finger into your pussy, your mouth slacking open in a perfect O shape as moans and whimpers dance off your tongue in a beautiful chant, all for sunghoon and sunghoon alone.

"how does it feel, angel face?" his breath fans your pussy as he speaks, and all coherent thoughts fall out of your brain as quickly as they come.

"s-s' good,,- feels s' good please" you squeak, your thighs spreading apart even further to grant him more access.

"so tight, perfect little virgin pussy all spread out just for me" his free hand comes down to peel your panties further to the side, his tongue darting out in order to lick a stripe up your wet slit, gathering your juices on his tongue.

"tastes so sweet, my sweetest girl" your face flushes at his words, but your hips grind up into his face once he wraps his lips around your clit in order to suck down on the bundle of nerves.

"oh my god" you squeal at the newfound feeling, your heart beating out of your chest so rapidly, you're convinced it could burst at any given moment.

"sucking in my finger so perfectly, i don't think you can take any more baby" you shake your head no, but the prominent pout on his lips taunts you into thinking you can take just a little more.

sunghoon adds another finger swiftly into your hole, stretching you even more with his his slender fingers. you hiss at the stretch, trying your hardest to adjust to the newfound sensation that radiates throughout your body in ripples. the way sunghoons tongue laps at your heat as if he were desperately searching for the last sip of water drives you insane - he cant help himself , you're just too fucking sweet.

"i feel weird, hoonie i- i cant , feels s' weird" your eyes squeeze shut as white-hot pleasure shoots through your veins . your fingers tug on his hair harsly and your hips buck up into his mouth, everything begins to feel hot and overstimulating, a thin layer of sweat forming on the skin of your forehead.

"let it happen sweet, you gonna cum for me?" he asks, even though he already has his answer the moment his fingers find the sweetspot that adorns your velvety, tight walls.

"please, please please please a-ah" his teeth biting down on your clit send you into overdrive - your abdomen tightens as the string in your tummy snaps - juices squirting all over the lower half of sunghoons face as your pussy squeezes his digits tightly.

"there you go, look so so pretty when you're makin' a mess all over me... my pretty little cum slut, hmm" his eyes widen as you cream around his fingers, white gooey slick oozing from your hole where his fingers fuck you apart sloppily.

"sun-sungie fuck" your hips and thighs jolt in his hold, and you can feel yourself come crashing down from your high at lightening speed. as your body relaxes into sunghoon, he pulls his fingers out of your fluttering hole.

"god you're absolutely perfect"

[momolady]

Kirilka the Orc

𝔉𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔩𝔢 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔵 𝔐𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔒𝔯𝔠

ℜ𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔶 - 𝔄𝔭𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔶 - ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔶 𝔅𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔠𝔢𝔡 𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔵𝔦𝔪𝔦𝔱𝔶 - 𝔄𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 ℜ𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢

When your brother married Tashka, the whole kingdom thought he was insane. What was the future king doing marrying an orc woman? But you knew exactly why he did, because Tashka was exactly what your brother always wanted. Sure, she wasn’t the frail princess everyone imagines for someone like your brother, but he never wanted frail.

“Hurry, the baby!” Your brother was fretting while you were doing the best you could to hobble down the hallway. Since you were little you needed leg braces, now you hold a cane to keep steady.

“Pasha! I am doing the best I can!” You tried to comfort him, after all his first baby was just born a few short days ago. The birth had been hard, but you had studied and trained for all that, helping Tashka through the difficult birth. Now, Pasha was worried about the state of his daughter and wife.

“Is he fussing at you?” Tashka asked softly as you went into the room. “I told him not to worry! I just had a simple question.” She tsked while gazing back down at the baby.

“You said-” Before Pasha could finish, both Tashka and you quietly shushed him.

“What’s the matter Tashka?” You set your cane aside and took your bag from Pasha. “Is she feeding okay?”

“Oh yes,” she said proudly, if not a bit sleepily. “But she’s getting these little bumps around her mouth.” She showed off the baby, pale soft green and already plump. Around her mouth was a bit of small red bumps and dried skin. 

You smiled, gently brushing the soft, fawny hair on her head. “Nothing to worry about. Just a bit of drool rash.” You reached back for your bag. “Nothing a little ointment won’t fix.”

Paha had tears in his eyes already.

“I knew it wasn’t anything too bad.” Tashka’s gentle smile was so beautiful, you could tell why Pasha fell for her. “But Pasha and my brother,” she scoffed.

Ah yes! Tashka’s brother, Kirilka. You had run afoul of him since coming home. He didn’t seem quite trusting of your medical background, despite the years of training you had taken. He seemed assured only orc knowledge would be good enough for his sister and brand new niece.

“Firstborns have the ability to make panic occur with the slightest sound,” you say while applying some of the specialty made ointment to the baby’s mouth, making sure to wipe away excess.

“I’ll say,” Tashka chuckled, glancing towards her husband.

Pasha pouted but then broke into a smile as he took his wife into his arms, hugging her while gazing lovingly at their child.

“I’ll go make you a little kit.” You take your cane back in hand. “So you can be better prepared for rashes and the like.”

Tashka sighed, exhausted and relaxed in the same breath. “Thank you. I’m very relieved knowing this little one is getting the best care..”

You puffed up with pride.

“This little one also still needs a name,” Pasha remarked.

“It’ll come to us,” Tashka mused. “I didn’t get my name until I was a month old.”

You rather liked the orc tradition of letting the baby’s name come naturally. You found it much more personable. “Well, I’ll come back later. You three should rest.” 

“Thank you again,” Pasha sighed.

You nodded, leaving the royal bedchamber and heading back out into the hall. Pasha had made you private work quarters down the hall, but it was still quite the long hall. You were nearly down it when Kirilka started walking up it.

“Dammit,” you grumbled to yourself.

“And what were you called for?” Kirilka grumbled. This beast of a man towered over you, casting a dark shadow wherever he went. Growing up on one of the largest farms in the kingdom, probably on this side of the Cobra Strait, he’d grown up a farm boy, rearing animals, tending to fields and working day in and day out. He was built for it, built for a lot of things probably. His long hair was always tied up into a thick, ropelike braid that he kept coiled up into a bun.

“The baby had a little drool rash, nothing awful, nothing even too concerning. I'm going to make a kit of ointments and the like for them now.” You said sternly, if not a little brusk. 

His amber eyes looked you over, taking in the cane then focusing on your own eyes. You knew you weren’t his version of a healer. You dressed prettily, wearing fancy but comfortable dresses you had collected from your travels for education. Compared to him you were a dumpling beside a steak, that probably also irked him.

“What sort of ointments?” He sounded like he was ready to discourage all your ideas.

You sighed. “Look, Kirilka, I know I’m not the healer you want for your sister. But I’m using my education for what it is for and it is taking care of her and that baby. And you, if you should walk into a doorway.”

He sneered, his upper lip curling ever so slightly. “All I asked was what ointments you were planning on using. Orc skin isn’t like human skin.”

“Oh?” you feigned ignorance. “Is it not?”

He scowled.

You stomped your cane in lieu of your foot. “I’ve been trained in such things, you know! And if you must be so nosy, I am making a comfrey mixture.”

His brow raised slightly. “Comfrey?”

“I did train with orcs at the university,” you scoffed. “We shared our knowledge, rather than test one another.” You continued to try and walk ahead, but to your dismay, Kirilka kept following.

“Kirilka, please,” you huffed. “I’m just doing my job.”

“No,” he snarled, stopping you from continuing forward.

Dammit, you thought. This wasn’t what you wanted today. You knew the tension between you and Kirilka had been building, but you didn’t realize he was willing to throw down over it. Maybe you could get in a few good jabs with your cane. You knew you should have accepted your uncle’s offer of a sword cane. 

“I know how people look at my sister here! I know how we are treated amongst your circle. I also know how I look, and if I can use it to protect my sister and niece I-”

Your mouth hung open. “Protect them? From me?” You slapped your hand against your chest. “I adore Tashka! I brought that baby into the world with my own hands, I would die for that child!” Your voice was raising, your blood was boiling. “Even if I didn't, I took an oath to care for people and see after their health. How dare you?” You stomped towards him, clomping down your cane like you were going to take one of his toes. “I love my family, which now includes you unfortunately! I helped convince my father to accept Tashka! Did you know that? I was almost thrown out of the castle! Protect them?”

Kirilka was backing down now, looking frightened.

“Let me work, farm boy!” You snapped and stormed past him, getting to your office and slamming the door shut. You huffed, glaring into the room. “Who does he think he is?”  

After working for a few hours to distract yourself, you came out of your office, a new baby kit prepared and placed into a beautiful tin. You knew how Tashka liked roses, so you had painted the tin with them just for her. 

You knocked on the bedroom door and waited, admiring your handy work on the tin when the door opened. You smiled to greet your brother, but it was Kirilka. Your smile vanished.

“Quiet,” he whispered. “They’re finally asleep.”

“I’ll just leave this with you then,” you grumbled, offering out the tin.

Kirilka took it. “Wait,” he set the tin inside the door then stepped out himself. “I want to apologize.”

You furrowed your brow. “Really?”

He returned the frown as he gently closed the door behind him. “I didn’t realize all you had done for Tashka.”

“You’ve treated me like scum since I got here. Don’t mind me saying I feel the apology comes a little late.” You then rolled your hand in the air. “But go on.”

Kirilka walked you a little further down the hall, away from the bedchamber. “Ever since Tashka became queen, I have heard the most vile things spoken about her. The past two years my head has been full of them, and being in this castle makes them sound like cannons in my head.”

You sighed. “The moment I met Tashka I liked her. Pasha doesn’t fall in love easily, you know. Surrounded by dancers all his life, I never saw his eyes turn once. Not until Tashka.”

Kirilka looked away, pouting.

 You moved to stand in his line of sight. “I stood up for your Tashka against my father. I stood beside her when she was crowned. And I am going to fight for that little girl to be heir. She’ll be queen one day.” You watched him, waiting. “Now what do you say?”

“I’m sorry,” he growled under his breath.

You cupped your hand around your ear. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I. Am. Sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. He turned those amber eyes back upon you and huffed. “I misjudged you.”

You nodded in agreement. “That’s right, you did!” A smirk crossed your face. “I’ll forgive you. But that may take time.”

His lip curled and he clicked his teeth. “I get it.”

This was such a good feeling! All this time you wanted to smack him around, now it felt like you’d gotten in the first whack. “But maybe now we can be friends! After all, we’re both the eldest sibling, we should have a lot in common.”

He looked distrustful, eyeing you up and down wondering where the rest of you was.

“That’s right! I came out of the womb first,” you announced proudly, puffing out your chest. “But for health reasons I abdicated my spot to my brother.”

Kirilka’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t even know you were twins.”

“Yes , well, Pasha went on to train in ballet while I read in bed with several illnesses. That can change figures.” You patted your belly. “And hobbling around isn’t the exercise I make it look to be.”

You saw it! He was suppressing a smile!

“I blame it on Pasha sitting on my head in the womb.” You peeked at him again, seeing the corner of his lip curl ever so slightly upwards. “I’ve delivered orc twins, you know?”

“Those are quite rare for us,” he muttered, wiping away any semblance of his previous smile. “How did that go?”

“Very well, my teacher and I together came up with a new method that made the birth easy for the mother and safer for the babies.” You then offered your hand to him. “Since our siblings are asleep, why don’t you and I have tea together?”

He looked unsure, eyes darting away. “I don’t like tea.”

“Then you can eat scones the entire time. Come now, we have a lifetime to deal with one another. The first foot was awful, like mine, but the second foot can be a strong one, like mine.”

He was forcing that smile down hard again, but he took your offered hand, shaking it heartily rather than be delicate. His fingers flexed after touching you. Perhaps he was more used to rougher palms?

He was silent for most of tea, taking sweets and cookies eagerly while you went on and on about your schooling. Afterwards, he made an excuse to leave while you finished the teapot by yourself. 

Over the next few days you passed him in the hall, attempting to make small talk. It took a while, but after a while he began offering more than monosyllabic responses. He was also joining you for tea more often, actually offering you bits and pieces of his life. He had prize cows he loved, bison he raised from birth, and sheep he spent summer nights sleeping beside.

“Where do you harvest your comfrey?” He asked one day, having come into your office with a rather large cut on his palm.

You were cleaning it, using a cloth and a strong alcohol, watching to make sure there was no debris in the cut itself. “I was gifted a plant by a friend of mine at university. I came home and planted it in the garden a few years ago. It’s spread out quite a bit, I have decades worth now.” You were even surprised he came to you with such a wound, but you were glad he did.

“We have large patches of it all around the farm. Our mother loved it,” he murmured.

“Tashka told me she was quite the gardener,” you murmured. You dabbed away some blood and remarked on an old fairytale from your youth. Something about a field mouse and a lion. 

“She loved flowers. Her roses were used during your parents’ wedding. So it’s funny how this all worked out.”

You stilled and looked into his face. The way the light from your small lantern hit his face made him look much handsomer than you were used to seeing. “I didn’t know that.”

He nodded, long lashes falling to his cheek. “They bought every single one she had. I had never seen the farm look so…empty I guess is the word. She worked hard all year to make sure there was enough.”

“Wow.” You were more remarking on how differently he looked, how long his lashes were, how full his lips appeared. You swallowed, trying to hide your blush. “I’ll just put some of said comfrey on here,” you laughed nervously.

“Thanks,” He muttered. 

You bandaged him up, flexing his fingers to make sure nothing was wrong. “There. Should be good as new eventually.” His hand then captured yours, locking his fingers around your own. You looked unsure up at him. “Arm wrestle?” You chuckled.

“Let me thank you.” He pulled you close, closing the gap between you and placing a soft kiss on your lips. Oh, it was heaven! You leaned in, closing your eyes and melting. You then came to your senses and hurriedly pulled back.

“What was that?” You snapped.

Kirilka chuckled. “What do you think?” He focused upon your eyes, freezing you in place with how intense his gaze was. “You impress me. I like a woman who frightens me a little.”

Your stomach flopped. “Oh.”

“You remind me of the ram who guards my sheep. Small, soft, but very ferocious. I’ve seen him take down a mountain lion. I want you to do that to me.”

What was this? Your mind was racing, your heart was trying to keep up with it. Your mouth hung open but you closed it back quickly. “Th-that’s enough out of you!” You stood up quickly. “You should go check on your sister.” Turning around, you tried to ignore him while cleaning up your desk.

“If you’re at all curious, meet me in the garden tonight. Right near your comfrey.” Kirilka got up and left.

You huffed, clutching your chest as the door shut. “Fucking hells! I’ve not been turned on like that before,” you whispered to yourself. You glanced back at the door. “Who the hell does he think he is?”

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖜𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖓 𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖔𝖓!

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

Gojo as a dad

genre: fluff a/n: not edited. took the idea from some tiktok which I lost and can't find anymore😭 so if you recognise it just drop the link in the comments

“Okay, that’s enough. Time to sleep” You pick up your toddler who’s been hyperactive all night. Maybe it has something to do with the white-haired male sitting on the floor looking up at you with a pout, mimicking his daughter’s expression.

“noo dada” whines Yuki and wriggles in your grasp.

“You know what, I’ll take her”

You raise your eyebrow at Satoru, feeling skeptical.

“You’ll take her to bed? You?”

“Hey, what is that supposed to mean? You’ll come with me right, my princess?” He asks her daughter before pecking her cheek causing her to giggle and nod eagerly.

“See?” Satoru holds out his arms for her and you give up.

“I swear if I hear any of you laughing I’ll be really mad.”

“How mad? the ‘raised eyebrow and grumbling to yourself’ mad or ‘you’ll kick me out of the bedroom’ mad?” You just look at him unimpressed.

“The last one it is,” he says and kisses your head leaving the room with your daughter. You can hear their laughter coming from the hall.

“I have two kids” you mumble and start picking up toys from the floor.

After 20 minutes you sit on the bed with the laptop on your lap and the glasses on, finishing up your work when you hear Satoru’s loud laugh coming closer to the bedroom door. You swear if he wakes Yuki up-

You couldn’t finish the thought when Satoru barged into the room with a very awake Yuki. You look at him incredulously.

“Wait, wait before you start shouting at me,” he says with a wide smile “Look what she learned”

Satoru then makes a bursting bubble noise with his mouth and Yuki with her toothless grin does the same, not quite similar but she’s trying. You have to admit, it is so cute she was trying to copy her dad, but she should be asleep right now. So you recomposed yourself, removing the smile that escaped your lips and glare at your husband.

“Oh, don’t be like that” he whined “She’s adorable”

“Give me my girl” You take her away from pouting Satoru and kiss her cheek “Come on love, let’s get you to bed.”

“But I-”

“You will go downstairs and make me coffee” You grin at him and leave the room.

When Yuki falls asleep you go to the kitchen to find Satoru at the table and he slides a cup of coffee to you when you sit beside him.

“You shouldn’t be drinking coffee this late”

“And you shouldn’t be doing everything I tell you but you still made me coffee”

“What can I say, a man can think he’s the strongest and then he meets his wife” He smirks and you peck his lips.

“How tragic”

“Tragic, indeed” he holds the back of your neck to keep you from moving away and places a kiss on your lips.

“Am I banned from the bedroom?”

You giggle

“No, you’re not. and…” You hesitate and play with the button on his shirt “And since I’m drinking coffee I might not be sleeping for a while… Any ideas on how to pass the time?”

You bat your lashes at him and he grins, leaning down again.

“A lot, darling. A lot” he says against your lips before kissing you.

[toast-on-dandelioms]

Ehat if reader got captured and turned into a Talon by the court of owls? Lets say they heard a scream for help and went to investigate but it was a trap and the got captured . Lets assume readers spider powers are still used as extra help . Maybe the batfam finds out when the court sends reader to a place that batfam was in. What would be the reactions and what would they do?

Songbird's Eulogy

I'm gonna be honest, I loved this ask and this will become a serie if you guys want to read it!

Dividers made by @thecutestgrotto

W.C: 8k

Tw: blood, description of dead bodies and their wounds, probably bad description of Alzheimer in a character

The air in the Batcave was so thick with tension that it could be cut with a knife, most of the family present except for Alfred, who was upstairs cooking dinner and Cassandra, who was in Hong Kong at the moment.

Tim was at the computer next to Bruce, who was observing Tim working while the younger vigilante was typing away and looking at several screens that played what looked like the same videos all at the same time, trying to find anything different in it even if the video kept showing the same things over and over again while mumbling stuff with Bruce, exchanging theories as to what was happening or if one of the two found anything that the other missed.

Dick and Damian were sparring but both were distracted, as they were both doing the same moves over and over again, their eyes unfocused as their minds were thinking of the case while Jason and Duke were both working on their bikes, exchanging tools and also sharing information of the case as Jason had some information thanks to the Crime Alley kids, even though it did cost him a lot since many of those kids had contradicting stories so knowing which ones were true or not was difficult and time consuming.

Stephanie was the only one who was sipping on some tea Alfred made her a few minutes ago while reading the same file of the case to see if the police missed anything or to see if her reading it for the 20th time would result in her finding something she didn't notice before, her eye twitching as she kept hearing the same ominous whistle from the speakers on the batcomputer, making it even more annoying and creepy.

The yet another ominous whistle is her breaking point. She suddenly slams the cup on the hard wood of the table, as if she wants it to tremble. Luckily the cup didn't break. As everybody realises where the sound is coming from their head snap towards that direction, as if snapping out a trance. This unexpected event pulled Dick out his alert mode, and as Damian's punch hit his side he falls down in pain, loudly complaining about the hit being "too strong" while Damian ignores him to walk up to Tim and Bruce. Jason and Duke also both looked up from their bikes with a concerned look, they were both tuning out the audio from the batcomputer for the twelfth time, and almost jumped at the sharp sound.

Bruce looked at Stephanie without saying anything as the girl glared at him and Tim, who just looked like he was on the bring of a nervous breakdown as he was replaying the videos at the same time to find anything that could be useful for the case, even though he was doing that for at least two days and nothing showed up, even though he sent all those videos through all kinds of analysis software the batcomputer had and even the Justice League had in the Watchtower.

"Can you please stop replaying that damn whistle?! I've been hearing that shit for the past week and I swear to god, if I hear that one more time I will kill you Timothy Jackson Drake and no Lazarus pit will be able to resuscitate you after I am done with you."

And Stephanie did look ready to kill, her eye twitching as she glared at Tim, who just sipped on a cup full of an overly caffeinated drink with eye bags so prominent that the girl wondered for a few seconds how long he'd been awake to study the security feeds from Babs, autopsy records, police reports and any leads the detectives had at the moment and whatever the vigilantes could find.

The girl kept glaring at Tim, ignoring Dick's groans and Damian's voice as he told him to stop being a baby, while Duke and Jason went back to take care of their own bikes while still talking.

In her frustration, she threw all the files that she was reading on the table, ignoring how all the papers and the photos in the files scattered on the table and made a mess.

"How the hell are we supposed to find this supposed killer?! The only thing we have is this fucking whistle" she started, her frustration clear in her face as she hadn't slept in days thanks to the extra hours of patrol and her refusing to go to sleep to help with the case, "and this!".

She stopped her rant to quickly search through all the files and photos for a specific one, stopping once she found two that she deemed good enough and grabbed them before walking up to Tim and Bruce since they were the ones who were the closest, ignoring Dick and Damian who were walking up to them to see what was happening.

The moment she showed them the pictures, everything fell silent. Faint breaths were felt in the air, like oxygen was slowly running out as tension and discomfort slowly grew as everyone stared at the pictures. The photos were horrid, whoever did that was full of rage as both bodies on the photos were scratched, especially on their sides, arms and chest, like the killer was scratching them while the victims were trying to cover themselves with their bodies as other areas of their body, like their chest and stomach was ok with no scratches present. But the most horrible thing that caught everyone's eyes just like the first time they all saw the bodies was that both victims sported the same killing method, with both of them having their necks cut open in the most gruesome way possible as the killer scratched the necks of the victims.

Everyone shuddered, except Stephanie, as they stared at the photos since the girl was showing them to everyone around her to make a point and to show how crazy it was to find any clues just from those wounds.

The older man stared at his kids without saying anything as Damian and Stephanie started arguing once again about who did it, with Stephanie accusing the League for all the murders happening in Gotham while Damian was defending the League as he explained that no good assassin trained under the League, and especially under his grandfather, would kill their targets in such a stupid and sadistic way since they were trained to kill efficiently and quickly while this killer acted like they were playing with their victims and wanted their deaths to be slow.

Bruce just sighed as he recognised how exhausted his kids were from the stress of the case while they kept fighting, with Dick joining Steph's side and Tim joining Damian's, knowing that they wouldn't listen to him if he told them to take a break or to stop fighting, especially since he was always the first one to ignore that suggestion when offered.

He quickly grabbed his phone once he heard it ringing, thinking and hoping it was Gordon or Barbara with any news about the case before looking confused and worried when he saw that it was Alfred calling him. He picked up and could hear a woman's voice in the background talking to someone as Alfred just said "Master Bruce, Miss Amelie has arrived with Boris and she wants to see you, it seems that she's having an episode" before hanging up, most likely to make some tea for the unexpected but not unwelcome guests that arrived.

He sighed before noticing Tim looking at him alongside the others who stopped fighting once they heard what Alfred said on the call, making him sigh once again since he knew he couldn't ignore Amelie to keep working on the case so he just started walking to the elevator to get upstairs faster instead of using the stairs.

He looked a bit surprised when both Jason and Damian also got in the elevator but didn't say anything to the duo, knowing how close the two have gotten to the woman after years of her coming to the Manor looking for him. He thanked Tim patience for managing to convince Alfred on getting a smartphone so he could call and text the rest of the bats without having to get down to the cave every time due to his old age, which proved itself useful as now the older man had now a folder full of recipes he and Jason share to each other, plus all the passive aggressive messages towards everyone or someone specific when he found them not taking care of themselves.

As the trio walked to the room designated for her when she decided to come they could already hear the woman talk to a man who was trying to calm he down, before stopping to look at the door once she heard Bruce knocking and then entering. The woman immediately ran to Bruce in tears, her beautiful hair in the messiest bun that made Bruce wonder what happened as he knew how attentive she was with her hair as a model, something that she now didn't do as much after the accident, and her eyes almost fully red from her tears.

"Bruce! Bruce you have to listen, my baby is out there, I know that [Y/N] is not dead! The hospital keeps telling me that my little star is dead but I know that they're lying! Bruce please, find our little star". She started crying once again, her face on his chest with her hands holding his shirt as she cried about [Y/N] not being dead, that her little star was out there and to not listen to the hospital and the police, begging the man to help her.

Bruce looked at Boris, who just sighed when he locked eyes with him and shook his head, looking exhausted with bags under his eyes that were challenging Tim's, before looking down at Amelie once again. He only now noticed that she was in her pajama, one of her slippers missing, and holding one of [Y/N]'s old plushie to her chest with one hand as she kept her tight hold on his shirt with the other hand, her hand trembling like she believed that he wouldn't believe her if she let go of him. "Amelie, it's ok, we're searching for [Y/N] along with the police, we'll find them soon" he murmured softly as he managed to untie her hair and brush it a bit with his fingers to help her relax, smiling softly as she visibly started to relax when she felt his hands in her hair and massaging her scalp.

"Find our baby, please" she mumbled, her hold on his shirt starting to loosen as he kept massaging her scalp, making Bruce hum and reassured her for a few minutes, knowing that it was helping as she slowly let go of him and just hugged the plushie close to her chest.

Once he knew she was calm enough after all the reassurance, he gently put his hands on her shoulders to lead her to the couch, where Damian and Jason were already sitting and waiting for her and Bruce. On the table in front of the couch were a few albums and after helping her sit down on it he handed one to her, opening it to a random page and pointing to a random photo of [Y/N], who was giving their biggest smile while on the car, their mouth and cheeks covered in ice cream. "Why don't you tell them who [Y/N] is, I'm sure Damian is curious to know about his older sibling," He suggested softly, smiling to her as she immediately started to talk about [Y/N] while leaning on Jason, the plushie now in Damian's arms as the two boys listened intently to the woman even though they probably heard the same story almost every month, but they didn't seem to care especially when the woman would remember new stories every time she came.

Bruce got up when he knew Amelie was fully engrossed in talking about [Y/N] and walked up to Boris, knowing the man was her caretaker and most importantly, he was the only person who knew her best. "Boris what happened? Are you ok?" he asked, mostly wanting to know if she was getting too hard to handle for him alone as he saw a bruise on his cheek and if he needed help, knowing how much he was already doing for the poor woman since the accident.

"I was making her lunch when she went in [Y/N]'s old room and started to call for them but I was too busy to hear her and distract her. She started crying and started to remember that night, I'm sorry Bruce but I can't do this alone anymore." was what the man said out of exhaustion, his eyes filling with tears as he tried to keep it together while in the same room of Amelie, probably not wanting to cause her distress if she saw him crying.

Bruce just nodded and patted the man on the shoulder before walking him to the kitchen, smiling at Alfred when he already had some tea ready for them and few sandwiches on a plate. He sat down on a stool next to Boris and offered him some of the little sandwiches, knowing the man probably skipped dinner to come to the Manor with Amelie at such late hour.

"Boris, we've been friends ever since Amelie came here for the first time after what happened, and you know I wouldn't say this if I didn't believe you could do this alone, but you need to hire another caretaker or at least a house keeper so she can help you with normal activities." He started, knowing the man was stubborn and also felt responsible of taking care of Amelie after the accident. "I mean look at you! Did she hit you or?" He asked, noticing that the bruise was already fading, which meant that it happened some time ago but still made it concerning since Amelie was never violent before.

Boris sighed once again, making Bruce wonder if that was the only thing the man did all day, before explaining "It was my fault, I entered the house late at night after having to run to the store to grab a few things that I needed badly for Amelie and for lunch but she thought I was an intruder, she didn't recognise me," he stopped for a second to take a deep breath, tears slowly running down his eyes as he remembered the look of fear in Amelie's face as she didn't recognise him, "I managed to take off my hat but she did manage to throw a small statue we had in the living room at my face" he finished.

Bruce patted the man's back when he heard Boris's sigh and offered him a few tissues, knowing the man was tired and would finally accept his help in the form of a caretaker or house keeper that he would pay for, even though he's already paying for his mortgage and every single bill without the Belarusian man knowing, not wanting him to feel indebted to the richer man than he already felt.

"Maybe a house keeper can help me, the house is honestly a mess and I can't keep up with it, plus I can't keep looking out for her when cooking, it's just impossible for me only" Boris said before starting devouring all the sandwiches on the plate, stopping once or twice to drink some tea so he wouldn't choke. He blushed when he noticed Bruce watching him "I haven't eaten in two days, Amelie has been incredibly difficult and I never found the time to eat" he explained and thanked Alfred when the older man presented him with a plate full of pasta that he made for the starving man once he heard his stomach grumble loudly when he entered the kitchen.

Bruce smiled at him and patted him on the back once again "it's ok Boris, I'll hire someone and pay for it, you just relax here for a bit and eat, you look spent" he said before suddenly hearing Barbara's voice in his ears, telling him that another body was found in an alley thanks to a few cameras around and she already notified the police but he should send someone there before the police ruins the crime scene.

The man quickly got up and escused himself out of the room to use the comms in his ear to tell Damian and Duke to go, telling both boys that this was top priority and to go immediately, ignoring Damian's complaints since he was with Amelie and she was finally telling him and Jason a new story about [Y/N]. He once again ignored the boy's complains and ordered him to go with Duke as he needed him to protect Duke while he was using his meta abilities as all the previous crime scenes didn't reveal anything so they needed Duke's abilities to know something.

As he finished speaking to Damian and receiving confirmation that he was going with Duke he went back into the kitchen to smile at Boris, who was at his second plate of pasta and absolutely devouring the dish, and gave him a quick excuse "sorry, some problems at the WE, make yourself comfortable and Alfred will take care of everything" before leaving to the batcave, sending a quick text to everyone currently in the Manor to not leave anything bat related upstairs as there were guests staying in the Manor. He sent the text as he entered the elevator, the doors closing in front of him as his thumb pressed sent on the text.

When the doors of the elevator opened again to show the familiar cave he quickly ran to the batcomputer to check the video that Babs sent, a bit surprised when he saw that Tim wasn't on the chair right in front of the computer like he expected but he quickly found him once he scanned the room, sleeping on the floor with Stephanie on top of him as she sipped on her tea and using her phone like she didn't do anything when she noticed Bruce looking at her with his usual dissapointed stare.

"Hey I warned him, he's the one who played that whistle again so I just executed on my threat" was the only thing she said before going back to using her phone like nothing happened, making Bruce sigh but he didn't do anything about it since Tim was sleeping instead of focusing on the case and drinking ungodly amounts of coffee and energy drinks. "Just move him to his room afterwards, don't want him to sleep in the cave" was the only thing he said as he sat on the chair and focused on the multitude of screens of the batcomputer.

He opened the new video once he finally received the notification from Babs, keeping his line with Duke and Damian open to be ready if anything happened to the two while at the crime scene, before sitting back to watch the video, hoping that it wouldn't be as useless as the others they had.

Duke was in his bike with Damian behind him with his own helmet, talking with Babs on the comms as she guided him to the crime scene, breaking so many laws as he drove since he knew that if he got there after the GCPD then the crime scene would be ruined and it would be difficult for him to use his ability with police officers walking around the crime scene.

As he took a very sharp turn he quickly switched his comms line to talk with Damian and asked "you ok there little man?", knowing that he was driving very dangerously but he couldn't afford to waste a single second by following the law at the moment. He laughed when he just heard Damian click his tongue and then just lightly hit the side of his helmet to say that he was ok.

The duo quickly got off the bike when they finally reached the alley and Damian quickly went around it to close off the alley both ways so the GCPD wouldn't enter it without his permission and mess up the crime scene while Duke set his bike in the other side of the road in another alley before finally walking inside the right alley, stepping over the yellow tape Damian quickly put before going to the other side of the alley, taking many pictures of all the blood he saw on the floor in small puddles, alongside a phone that he quickly put in an evidence bag so Babs could see if there was anything that could be useful.

He found a gun with only one bullet inside while the bullets rounds were lying around before the body, and as he grabbed it to put in an evidence plastic bag, alongside the used bullets rounds in another bag. He quickly found the bullets that were fired in a small pile next to the victim's body, all covered in blood and obviously having been taken out of whoever got shot, making him shudder when he saw them as he wondered who was crazy enough to actually pull the bullets out of their body and leave them on a pile like they were returning them.

When he finally reached the body he had to give himself a minute at the sight of the man's slaughtered throat, feeling bile coming up his throat as he couldn't manage to look away at the man's body, the terrified expression on the poor man's face as he died still impressed on his face, his clothes tattered and in some parts torn that Duke's first thought was that he got attacked by a wild animal but the clean cuts on his arms and cheeks showed that it wasn't an animal.

As he stared at the corpse his hand slowly travelled to his throat as he felt pain from it, like he was experiencing the same pain the man felt when it happened and he didn't even use his powers to see the past, making him even more horrified at what he was seeing.

With trembling hands he raised his phone to take some photos of the body and the black veins that showed on the side of his neck, making Duke think that the man probably got poisoned but he couldn't pinpoint the exact poison used just from the black in his veins and skin.

As he kept taking photos he noticed that the black travelled down to his right arm, probably where the man got poisoned with a needle or knife but he couldn't see it from where he was standing so he slowly encouraged himself to move, trying his hardest not to puke as he put on some gloves so he wouldn't leave any prints that could incriminate him or ruin the crime scene.

He slowly raised the torn sleeve of the man's shirt to hopefully find the knife or needle wound but instead he saw something that made him connect his mask camera's to the batcomputer so Bruce could see what the boy was seeing, as he was sure the photo wouldn't be able to capture everything he was seeing.

The right arm of the man had a bite mark that was obviously made by a human mouth, making Duke feel sick and almost puke as he could see how deep the bite was just by the skin around it broke, showing signs of struggle from the man but that didn't do anything to stop it or making it let go of him.

Duke got up and made a signal to Damian to stay alert as he was gonna use his powers and needed the boy to be ready since he would be vulnerable while watching what happened, afraid of what he was gonna see after seeing the man's wounds and bite. He also turned off his mask's camera to not worry Bruce once it all turned black from his powers.

He sighed and started using the shadows of the alley to use his Ghost vision, his eyes turning white completely as his body froze in place to watch and finally know who the killer was.

(this is what happened, it will be written with italics)

Duke opened his eyes and saw that he was now in the same alley and was standing right in front of the guy, now alive and animatedly talking on the phone with someone as he paced back and fort in the alley while smoking a cigarette.

Duke ignored the man's conversation with whoever he was at the other end of the phone call to slowly walk around the alley, mostly to see if there was anything suspicious that wasn't there when he first came to check the body but unfortunately everything was the same as when he arrived for the first time.

He kept looking around for a bit before stopping when he heard an ominous whistle, the same one he heard from all the videos Babs sent them, making him grab his eskrima sticks to defend himself and the man out of habit before remembering that this already happened and he couldn't do anything to stop whatever happened next.

Duke looked back at the man when he heard him stop talking after he heard the whistle, his face turning into a terrified expression, his phone dropping on the floor as he tried to grab his gun with shaking hands, making it more difficult for the man as Duke could see how nervous he was. Both men froze as they heard the same whistle from the same being but with more insistence to it, like they were asking permission or calling for someone with how insistent the whistle sounded to the African-American teen.

Both men quickly looked to the other side of the alley, showing a badly illuminated street thanks to a broken streetlamp that kept going on and off, showing an empty street but once it went off and on again a kid, maybe 14 years old or less was standing in the alley under the streetlight.

As they both stared at the kid, Duke tried to study the kid since the alley wasn't that big but could only see up to the kid's face, even though most of it was hidden by a white mask that was familiar but he couldn't really see it perfectly from that distance while the man was cursing under his breath in Italian, making Duke wonder who the kid was and how the man knew them and especially wanted to know why he was so scared of them.

Then, all of the sudden, a low whistle came from the rooftop of one of the buildings around them, making the kid jump up in joy before getting in position, making Duke curse under his breath as he managed to understand that the kid was he killer from how scared the man was after he heard the other whistle.

Everything else happened in such a blur that Duke thought Flash was in Gotham by how fast the kid was that even he had difficulty see them, before seeing that they were biting the man's arm, their teeth so deep in the skin that blood was already trickling out the kid's mouth and into the floor to form a few small puddles.

In panic and from the pain of the bite, Duke witnessed the man shoot the kid in the leg for two times and three times on the sides when he saw that the kid didn't even flinch from being shot in the leg but the kid remained attached to his arm, black slowly spreading around their mouth to the man's skin, making him drop the gun.

Once the kid finally pulled away from the man, Duke could see that the venom was already spreading from the black spreading through the man's arm and was slowly going to his head.

Duke kept watching in horror and in guilt as he could've been there to save the man but instead of patrolling the street he was back at the cave to help the others solve the case of these killings while the actual murderer was watching one of their many victims cry and beg for their life while smiling with their mouth full of blood of the victim.

He thought that would be the end of it, that the kid would kill the man by tearing his throat open but instead the kid skipped over the man, making the man stumble back before falling on the floor, claws coming out of their fingers like cats, and just started scratching the poor man body with no objective, their smile the worst thing Duke was seeing as he could see how the kid wasn't being forced or controlled by someone.

No, they were doing this because they liked it. They thought it was fun.

As the vigilante watched, he heard another whistle from the same person but it was shorter, like the person was calling the kid like it was time to go home and to stop playing since the kid looked annoyed when they heard that whistle since their smile got replaced by a pout.

Duke watched as the kid huffed and looked down at the man before smiling once again and leaned down as the man kept begging to be let go, that he wouldn't work for The Penguin anymore and that he was sorry for everything he did but the kid just kept smiling as they put their hand on the man's neck, their claws slowly retracting but not going fully back.

The kid kept smiling as the mask stared right into the man's eyes as he calmed down, thinking the kid was gonna let go of him, like he was spared and got lucky before his eyes got wide in fear and pain as the kid's claws came out and the kid tore open his throat, his hands trembling as he tried to cover the bleeding wound, his fingers and hands already covered in blood by how fast he was losing blood.

Duke just watched as the man's eyes filled with tears as he watched the mask of the kid and their smile, knowing that his death wasn't an act of revenge or because he was a bad person. His death was just the sick ending of a game the kid was playing and he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He kept watching as the kid then used a wall as support as they used their claws to pull out the bullets like nothing happened, leaving all of them on a small pile near the man, making Duke wonder once again what even the kid was when they weren't reacting to pain normal people would be screaming and crying from.

The last thing he saw before the vision stopped was the face of the kid staring directly at him, like they knew he was there since they gave him the biggest smile possible and even waved at him before his vision went black, their mask the only thing he could see as he was still trying to remember where he saw a mask like the one they were wearing.

(end of flashback)

Duke gasped as he finally woke up to the real time and not watching the murder happen before starting to hyperventilate and move around in the alley like he couldn't see as he couldn't figure out what was happening around him and he couldn't stop seeing the kid's smile and the man's face filled with terror as he couldn't do anything to help the victim and was made to watch a slaughter.

In his panic he didn't see Damian running up to him and calling his vigilante name but could feel someone pushing him and moving him before feeling himself getting carried somewhere, surely by Damian as he knew he was the only one there that could help him.

Everything else happened in a blur, he could feel himself being carried somewhere via grappling hook as he could feel the wind on his face and then the cold bricks of the rooftops under his fingers, making him calm down as he could feel that he wasn't in the alley.

He did relax a bit once he knew he wasn't in that alley but just couldn't calm down, his mind too focused on what he saw and wouldn't let him remember any of his calming techniques that Bruce and Jason taught him, his eyes slowly filling up with tears as he felt like he was gonna pass out as he kept gasping but felt like no air was entering his lungs.

Duke was still gasping for air when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Bruce's face without his cowl, making the poor boy surprised as he knew the man's strict rules on the masks when out on patrol before seeing the man breathing and gesturing the boy to copy him and after a few tries where Duke couldn't focus enough and started crying he managed to copy Bruce's breathing, his mind slowling down as oxygen finally started entering his lungs.

He smiled at the man when he finally calmed down enough to not need to copy's Bruce's breathing and just hugged the man, too grateful to care that they were on patrol and that he had important information about the murder that happened in the alley. No, he just needed a moment in his father's arms, even though his real father was still at the hospital but Bruce was there and he needed to feel protected and safe and he knew that Bruce's arms where he felt the safest.

As the two hugged, he looked at Damian and just smiled when he saw that the boy was standing next to them, hand on his katana to be ready if anyone suddenly came to attack them, making a mental note to hug the younger boy when they would go back to the Cave.

[Damian Pov]

He was annoyed. He was angry.

Those were the only two emotions he felt as he waited in the alley while Duke used his meta abilities for the case. He should've been home with Amelie, listening to another story of his older sibling and how they would climb stuff just to grab something because they refused to admit that they needed the small ladder they had in the kitchen that was there specifically for them.

But instead he was on a smelly alleyway in Gotham and waiting for the police while playing on his phone, acting distracted but he was still high alert and ready to strike anyone with a small batarang if they were going to attack Duke while he was watching.

While waiting he did feel watched but even after doing a quick check around the alley and the rooftops near the alley showed that there was no one the younger vigilante considered a threat to him and the yellow vigilante, making him even more frustrated as he was craving for a fight just to relieve some stress.

After a bit he noticed that the GCPD had finally came with Jim Gordon in one of the two cars so he quickly walked up to the detective so he could start the investigations right after Signal was done using his abilities, discussing with the older man about the murder and how the police should take care of the evidence as he saw in the other case files the detectives didn't take everything around the victim and there was some missing information because of the missing evidence, which didn't sit right with Damian and made him even more annoyed that the police wasn't doing its job right.

While talking he suddenly heard some noises from the alley and as he turned around he could already see Duke in distress by the way he moved and breather that he immediately ran up to him and after assessing the situation and how Duke was too much in distress to answer him he managed to pick him up and grapple away, using the comms to call Babs and how he needed someone to come help him as he didn't know how to calm Duke.

Once he reached a rooftop that Babs said was safe since it didn't have any cameras around, he quickly put Duke down and tried to calm him down using Dick's lessons but couldn't manage to get Duke focus on him as he kept moving and pushing him away whenever he touched the older boy and didn't listen to him.

As he kept trying to calm down Duke he started to grow frustrated, not towards Duke as he knew he probably saw something that shocked him deeply which caused the panic attack, but he was frustrated with himself as he couldn't remember Dick's advice and seeing how he couldn't help Duke made him feel helpless.

He was an assassin, he knew how to kill a man with just a pen and leave no traces. He knew every poison known and unknown to man and was incredibly smart for his age but couldn't manage to help one of his family out of an panic attack.

He felt useless but when he saw his father land on the rooftop he couldn't help but breathe out a sigh of relief as he knew Duke was in good hands now that he was here to help and moved out the way to stand guard and protect them as he wanted to do something and feel useful in his own way, walking around the roof to check if anyone could get there to attack them.

As he stood guard, a hand on his katana ready to grab it if needed and the other on a pouch that contained some batarangs in case, he suddenly felt a presence from behind him, making him quickly unsheath his katana and attack whoever managed to get behind him before standing there in shock as a Talon, more precisely a kid was standing in front of him and blocking the blade of his katana with their hands. As he stared he noticed that they weren't using their hands but some sorts of talon that were coming out of their fingers.

He glared at the kid and let go of his katana when he knew that it wouldn't be useful to fight and decided to use it as a distraction by letting go of it, smirking when he saw the kid look at the katana falling and used the few seconds to turn his body around to kick them on the chest with all his strength to push them away, watching as they tumbled a bit before falling in another Talon's arms in a dramatic way that Damian didn't notice, too occupied to stare at the other Talon who just arrived to think that the kid was being dramatic.

He quickly grabbed his katana and put it back in its sheath, keeping one hand on his birdrangs while he watched the masked kid and Talon look at each other via their mask before the kid started signing stuff that Damian couldn't understand as he recognise the sign language they were using.

As he watched them sign he turned to look at Bruce and Duke and was shocked to see Duke looking like he'd seen a ghost as the vigilante stared at the kid who was furiously signing to the Talon and looked frustrated when said Talon signed something that they didn't agree with.

He looked at Duke and Bruce and made a hand signal to Bruce to keep an eye on the duo as he checked on Duke, wanting to see if he was ok and could keep his posture if the two Talons decided to fight the three vigilantes, confused as to why they were there as they managed to take down the Court just two months ago and sent many Talons to a secret building out of Gotham, where they could be fee from the Court's influence.

Damian quickly walked up to the African-American male and grabbed his arm, forcing him to get up "Signal, report on what you saw in the alley, make it quick. We don't have time to useless details" he demanded, needing to know if Duke had some useful information to use in the upcoming fight and especially if the two Talons thee were involved in the streak of murders happening around Gotham.

Duke looked down at Damian as he was still looking at the kid and the Talon who were still fighting in their own sign language, his face looking like he swallowed a very sour candy before starting to talk "a Talon obviously but they're different from the other Talons we fought Robs." He took a deep breath to think about what he was supposed to say to be useful for him and Damian in the imminent fight.

"You have to be on your guard when fighting against that kid Robs, they're the ones who have been killing people in Gotham" he started, taking a deep breath as he tried to remember what he saw and staying calm, knowing he could seriously put Damian and Bruce at a disadvantage if he had another panic attack. "They're fast and have talons on their fingers that can be retractable. Their bite is venomous and it seems like the venom is very quick to spread if you get bitten." he explained, shuddering as he remembered the kid biting that man's arm.

The trio froze when they heard the kid whistle happily and jump around like they won something big while the Talon looked defeated, a hand on his shaking head but the three vigilantes could see by his body language that he was amused by the kid celebrating even though his whole face was covered by a mask.

Damian immediately got in fighting position with his katana and signalled for Duke and Bruce to do the same as he knew that the kid wanted to fight before watching, confusion clearly written in his eyes, as the kid started taking off parts of their armour like their chest plate and throwing it on the ground until their only piece of armour were two metal pieces on both arms and legs while everything else was left open and was just covered by some black clothing that looked too big on the kid.

By the way they were taking off most of their armour, it seemed like they wanted to feel every hit on their body like a sick maniac who is eager to feel anything that brings them joy or even just a thrill of excitement and the adrenaline that comes with it.

Duke was ready with his eskrima sticks in hand and stood next to Bruce, unsure on who the assassin wanted to fight first but he was ready to help if they suddenly attacked either Bruce or Damian. The older man grabbed his batarangs and glared at the two Talons, unsure on what they wanted but ready to fight if they tried anything to hurt his family.

Damian watched in silence as the kid finished taking off most of their armour before staring back at Duke and Damian with the same smile on their face, a bit confused when he saw them frowning as he watched them. He was too late to realise what was happening when the kid whistled two tunes at the same time and stood next to the Talon.

The youngest vigilante barely had time to warn his father before the Talon suddenly attacked the man, pushing the man to a part away from the kids on the rooftop while the kid applauded as he watched the two fight. He turned to glare at the other Talon and barely had time to raise his katana to protect himself as the kid was suddenly in front of him and used his talons to scratch his face.

He struggled a bit to hold his katana, his arms shaking as the kid was pushing their talons to reach his face. Fortunately for Damian, Duke was there to rescue him by kicking the kid on the stomach, making them stumble away while holding their stomach.

But they didn't back down as the Talon quickly recovered in not even a minute and this time attacked Duke with their talons, who was ready with his eskrima sticks and defended himself before pushing their talons down and managing to punch them right in the face.

As the three fought, Bruce was fighting with the older Talon before noticing that he wasn't trying to kill him like every other fight he had with his association but instead he was trying to keep him away from his kids and the shorter Talon that was with him, making the bat vigilante confused as to what their relationship was as he never knew that Talons could form familiar relationships in the Court.

Damian frowned as he and Duke weren't strong enough to capture the kid or not even manage to make them falter slightly. He glared at the kid who was looking at their nails while waiting for the two to regain their breath, making Damian even more angry as he knew the kid was obviously making fun of him and Duke by the way they were acting.

He made a hand motion towards Duke to tell him to get ready as he ran towards the kid, starting to fight them and keep them occupied as Duke made his eskrima sticks connect to turn them into nunchaku, starting to whirled around to gain speed until Damian managed to push them away and distract them for enough time so he could hit them in the face, and in the process made their mask fall off alongside their hoodie from the way they fell.

Damian stared as the kid laid down on the rooftop floor, completely frozen as their eyes were closed before suddenly opening them and getting up with a sick smile on their face, not caring that the two vigilantes could see their face, pushing some of their hair away from their face as the hoodie let their hair free.

Damian watched in shock as he was standing right in front of [Y/N], their older sibling who was believed to be dead or missing after they disappeared 8 years ago from a car accident while on their way home after attending the kid's dance recital. The same kid who was now standing in front of him, looking no older than 12 and wearing the Talon's uniform.

He couldn't do anything as they whistled and looked at the other Talon, who pushed Bruce away and walked up to them, grabbing their stuff in the process before picking them up and walking over the rooftop edge.

He finally managed to move once he realised that he was about to let his older sibling go without doing anything and started running towards the Talon, ignoring Bruce and Duke's voices before yelling out a "[Y/N]", reaching his hand out to grab them but was too late as the Talon jumped off the roof and as he looked down they already disappeared into the night.

The only thing that he could think as he thought of everything that happened was 'I need them back', especially now that he knew that his older sibling, the one he heard so many stories about and dreamed of hanging out with them. He refused to let them leave now that he knew he would have the possibility to have them in his life.

And he would do anything to have them back.

[pickinglilahs]

Okay, let's unpack this response here

TL;DR: 'weak and surface' level is exactly how I would describe prevs "obliteration". I'm not convinced THEY read the books. Or maybe they're just another TERF, considering that's how it reads. I completely disagree with Harry naming his kid after Snape. The ONLY explanation I can think for it is that JKR has no idea what love is (which is also cannon, as far as I'm concerned)

First: idk what book this person read, but Snape's obsession with Lily was creepy to the extreme. That their friendship started by him all but stalking her and Petunia should have been red flag #1. I mean, sure, he was a traumatized kid without friends, but that doesn't absolve him of his continued obsession. He literally stood outside the Gryffindor common room, refusing to leave, until she came out to talk.

And yeah, he did switch sides out of guilt. But he canonically didn't give a damn about Harry. If he was actually trying to protect the kid, he would have done more than bully and abuse (occlumency lessons anyone?) the kid. Teaching at Hogwarts was never about redemption. It was about staying out of Azkaban. (And Dumbledore's manipulation, but he's a whole 'nother can of worms)

Second: the books actually say that Snape was 'up to his nose in the dark arts'. He was an active participant. He didn't just 'hang out' with to-be-DE, he WAS one. He joined up of his own free will. He became Voldemort's RIGHT HAND. He didn't regret calling someone a mudbl***. He regretted that it was Lily.

And Snape CANONICALLY attacked the marauders just as much as they went after him. Just because they went after him first in that ONE memory, doesn't mean he didn't instigate too.

And let's talk about the werewolf incident for a minute because i am sick and tired of Snape Apologists using this as an excuse. That was NOT planned. That was a lapse of judgement on Sirius' part alone (yeah, fucked to hell and he is fully responsible for that). At the same time though, NO ONE MADE HIM GO. Snape was given a vague instruction and he was so focused on 'getting back' at the marauders that he put HIMSELF in danger. That is just as much on him as it is on Sirius.

Then the sexual assault? This is another common thing I see and it took me forever to figure out what it was even referring to. The pantsing? You cannot tell me he was the only one that happened to. If the levitating spell was really as popular as it's stated, this incident wasn't special. I'm willing to bet Snape did it to others too.

Third: Lupin not taking the wolfsbane. Yes, serious lapse in judgement. He also just saw Peter and Sirius on the map. The argument of it being criminal and a ticking time bomb is honestly werewolf prejudice and exactly why Remus has such a hard time finding a job in the first place. Way to go. You've discovered discrimination.

Fourth: Get McGonagall's name out of your fucking mouth. She is CANONICALLY shown NOT showing prejudice and treating EVERYONE by the same standards. And, did you forget that 'Moody' here was actually a death eater in disguise? No duh he's using cruel and unusual punishments??? Full of abusive teachers my ass.

Fifth: What do you mean the kids weren't scared for life? I do believe those CHILDREN will carry that trauma with them for the rest of their lives. Saying that it didn't break them is cruel and completely dismisses the VERY REAL pain and suffering that they went through. They are real heroes because they OVERCAME their trials. Not all of us out here in the real world are so lucky.

Lastly: yes, comparing CHILDREN who DID see the error of their ways to an ADULT who had to be CONNED into doing the right thing is laughable.

And saying Regulus accomplished nothing? Disgraceful. Of course it took a catalyst for him to change his ways thats how redemption arcs work.

If you made it this far, I hope you have a good day. Believe whatever you want, obvy I'm not going to change anyone's opinion. You can't MAKE a person understand. Still, it's nice to rant and remind myself how nice it is that I live in my own little corner of the fandom where I don't have to see this bullshit on my dash

okay, hold my drink *hands u cursed ancient goblet full of mead* i gotta talk my shit for a second.

ive been seeing a lot of severus snape love recently. and this is fine, obviously, y'all can love whomever you want. but. i need to rant or i will explode. if we're talking about canon. severus snape spends his adult years, seven books of it in fact, abusing children. and his excuse for this is the girl he loved (tho not enough not to join a group actively trying to exterminate her) fell for the hot jock instead of him (a tragedy indeed, i weep 4 him, i really do). and also she died, which, admittedly is very sad.

it is simply crazy 2 me 2 look at that and think *romance* or *genuine care and affection*. LIKE. fo real. snape calls her a slur in public, apologizes in private, hangs out with dudes who commit hate crimes against her friends (CANONICALLY, she says "you've been hanging out with that douchebag Mulciber, how could you do that after what he did to Mary???" this is not a direct quote but like, it's close enough). lame. loser behaviour.

"Oh but what about regulus" i can hear you say "he loves James potter but snape doesn't love lily???" well. idk. maybe. bit different tho, innit? due to james not being the demographic regulus is attacking (which doesn't make regulus a better person but does make the dynamic between him and james different). ALSO. Regulus chooses to turn against voldemort without hope for anything in return. snape doesn't seem to give a shit about voldemort, he's just sad he's not gonna get to bang lily evans. he switches sides for that reason alone. also doesn't care about what happens to her husband or her son which like. considering lily would be pretty fucking destroyed if they died. once again points to my whole, he doesn't really give a shit about her, theory. lame. loser. behaviour.

also. im sorry. I"M SORRY. but what snape does to neville? to hermione? to harry? gross. a grown ass man out here telling an eleven year old neville he's worthless or hermione she's ugly and annoying. or spilling harry's potion and refusing to grade him for it???????????????

reg and draco are children when we see them at peak suckage and therefore they feel like they can be redeemed much more compellingly (CAN be, not SHOULD be, not HAVE to be, just narratively i think they are easier to turn into interesting, sympathetic characters). but snape? snape grows up into a garbage adult. like he doesn't get better. and again, the only real excuse we're given is his obsession with lily. not very demure. not very cutesy.

ALSO. yall remember that time he got a destitute, struggling Remus Lupin fired from the best job he ever had just because he felt like it? remember that time snape weaponized Remus's lycanthropy and people's prejudice against him just cause. like. literally just cause??? his ego was bruised after the shrieking shack incident so he was like "get wrecked Lupin I'm going to tell everyone your secret so you will be forced back out onto the streets" DO YALL REMEMBER THAT BITCH ASS MOVE????????? THAT HE DID AS A FULL ADULT.

IN CONCLUSION, this is silly and, of course, like i said at the start, everyone can have their own thoughts and feelings about characters, but i simply needed to interject here on behalf of snape haters everywhere because i feel like so much of snape's shitty behaviour as an adult during a time when he was really under no duress and was very safe and cozy, is ignored. and my hater heart just cannot let that stand.

[lucyrose191]

CALM IN THE STORM| H.SPECTER

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Wife!reader

Summary: The entire firm knew how temperamental Harvey Specter was and whenever he was in one of those moods, they knew it was going to be a painful day, until they found the only thing that could calm him down.

Warnings: none.

Suits Master List

Harvey Specter could be described as many things; arrogant, rude, uptight, stone-faced and most certainly hot headed. It wasn’t hard to piss him off but it was certainly difficult to calm him down and once his mood was ruined the entire day was doomed.

It was quite frankly anyone’s worst day whenever Harvey wasn’t in a good mood because they always took the brunt of it and there was no way to fix it.

Or so they thought.

If there was one thing anyone would say about Donna Paulsen, it was that she knew everything, which meant she knew exactly what would calm Harvey Specter down.

His wife.

Y/N Specter wasn’t a lawyer, she was an aerospace engineer which was just as, if not more impressive than being a lawyer and Harvey Specter worshipped the ground she walked on.

After watching Mike Ross leave Harvey’s office with near tears streaming down his face, Donna had enough and picked up the phone.

Y/N’s attention was momentarily drawn away from her computer at the sound of her office phone ringing but continued looking through data as she answered "Y/N Specter speaking."

A sigh of relief was heard through the line before Donna’s voice filtered through. "Y/N! Thank god! I don’t know what the hell is up Harvey’s arse today but he’s nearly made Mike cry three times and it’s only 10 o’clock, can you please come and save us," her husband’s secretary practically begged.

Y/N smiled, leaning back in her chair, work forgotten. This wasn’t the first time she had received a phone call like this and she found it hilarious just how much her husband built within people, he was a real softy around her.

Luckily for her, she had a lot of freedom in her role, she had proven herself for many years before that she was now able to come and go from work as she pleased, being fully trusted that no matter how often she was hear her work was always done.

"I won’t be long," she said before hanging up, not wasting time in grabbing her things to make her way to her husband’s workplace.

As she walked towards her husbands office, Y/N bit down her laughter as she saw the obvious signs of relief on everyone’s faces as she walked by.

"Y/N you have no idea how happy I am to see you," Donna greeted her as she approached her desk, "He’s miserable in there."

Y/N looked through the glass into her husbands office and found that the redhead was telling the truth, the heavy frustration on her husband’s face was hard to miss.

She gave Donna a smile before making her way into Harvey’s office.

The man sighed heavily hearing his office door open, not looking up from the case file open in front of him. “I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Y/N smiled, “and does that include me?”

Harvey’s head snapped up at the sweet, smooth tone of his wife’s voice, feeling the tension in his shoulders deflate just from her presence. "Y/N?”

“Hey handsome." She smirked slightly, walking around his desk, he turned in his chair just as she stood in front of him.

He looked up at her in the same way he always did, there was nothing but pure love in those eyes, “What are you doing here?"

Y/N smiled lovingly at him, stepping forward to stand between his legs, wrapping her arms around the back of his head. “You’re scaring your colleagues.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, sitting up to rest his hands on her waist. “They’re ridiculous.”

Y/N hummed, “maybe, but how could I deny the chance to come and see you?”

“Fair point, I can understand the struggle of not seeing my handsome face for a couple hours,” Harvey replied, dead serious, smiling as his wife rolled her eyes and gave him a gentle slap to the shoulder.

“What’s got you all worked up, darling?” She asked.

Harvey released a deep breath, sparing a glance to the case sitting open on his desk. “I didn’t even want to represent the guy but Jessica knows him, I know him to be a complete prick."

Y/N thought for a moment before inviting herself further into his space, forcing her way into his lap, not that he was complaining, he just tightened his grip around her, leaning back into his chair. “Well, how about I treat you to lunch?” She proposed.

Harvey smiled tiredly. “I’d love that, baby." He replied, earning a bright smile from his wife who leaned forward to press a loving kiss to his lips before standing back up, pulling him up with her,

“Come on then, we’ve kept Ray waiting long enough.”

The smile on Harvey’s face was a stark contrast to the frustration he had been hounding earlier and it was all down the angel in front of him who wouldn’t even allow him to grab his coat, too persistent in dragging him through his office door.

As they made their way out of the building, they paid no attention to the uncomfortable weight that seemed to lift from everyone’s shoulders.

One thing for sure is that the entire firm were relieved for the existence of Y/N Specter.

[gotta-winwin]

(🎄) ... mirth and good cheer - xmas special

⭐ starring: vernon

🎄preview: vernon used to fly back to new york every christmas for one reason only: his childhood best friend. christmas used to be his and y/n’s thing, until he got seemingly too busy to ever return. now, as y/n departs to korea for the first time, she can’t help but wonder if her and vernon would ever cross paths again. vernon, unbeknownst to her, has been wondering the exact same thing. as the boys set up their christmas tree in their dorm, he does his best to ignore how hints of y/n still seemed to linger throughout the holiday air. 

tw/cw: idol!vernon x nonidol!reader, childhood friends to lovers, estranged friends, slight miscommunication, fluff, slight angst, best christmas romcom vibes, features svt members, stubborn!reader, equallystubborn!vernon, use of y/n, flips between past and present day

☁️ masterlist & a/n: dropping a vernon x reader fic for our xmas special! doesn't vernon just scream childhood bestie to lover (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ merry christmas my loves!

11 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” Mingyu slapped Vernon’s hand away from the tree they were decorating. “It’s supposed to be symmetrical, not whatever you’re doing.”

Vernon had to admit he wasn’t really paying attention. Their dorm auntie, the one who came around once a week to clean up the place, had baked them gingerbread men as a Christmas gift, and the smell felt like it had seeped into the walls of their dorm. It was a nostalgic smell, one that took him back to his childhood, new york and-

“Vernon?” Mingyu waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening right now?”

He blinked, brought back from his thoughts. “Sorry, hyung. What?”

Mingyu could only let out a deep sigh, moving to place the bauble where he intended it to be. “You’re like this every Christmas. If you miss her so much, why don’t you just fly back?”

Vernon didn’t really know why he wasn’t flying back. He certainly could be, they were off work for the holidays and a plane ticket back wasn’t hard to find. He would be doing himself a favor, putting himself out of misery and finally seeing his childhood best friend. The thing was, he wasn’t really sure if Y/N wanted to see him. He shrugged. “I don’t miss her.” It was a lie and everyone in the room knew it. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 2003: 

Everyone who knew either of them would say they were smart kids for their age. Both only five, they whispered secrets to each other like little middle schoolers would on the playground. 

“My parents say I’m going to Korea.” Vernon whispered to Y/N as they watched a christmas movie. “Forever.” Vernon always had a dramatic, theatrical side to him, even as a child.

Y/N could only frown. “Forever? Why?” She couldn’t imagine her best friend moving anywhere without her. “Am I going too?” 

Vernon mirrored her frown on his own face. “I don’t know.” Sensing her sadness, he reached over and gave her a hug. “I’ll visit every year.” He promised. 

“Every christmas.” Y/N insisted. She had always loved christmas above all else. “So we can watch movies again.”

Vernon agreed. “Okay. Every christmas. It’ll be like-” He paused, his young mind searching for the word. “Tradition.” He smiled at her, proud of the big word. 

“Promise?” Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, reaching out with her pinky, extended. “Pinky promise me.” 

Vernon grasped her pinky with his, shaking it firmly. He felt like a grown up, making one of those important business deals. “I promise.” Turning back to the screen, he let out a whine when he realized they had missed the best part. “We missed the part where the grinch screams down the mountain.” He complained. “I wanted to watch that part.”

Y/N got up, searching for the remote. “I’ll turn it back.” 

Their dynamic never changed, even as they grew older. Vernon walked through life, Y/N following behind him with eyes filled with admiration, gently nudging the boy whenever he got distracted and began walking off-track. It stayed that way even with the distance, until one Christmas, Y/N woke up and Vernon had not returned. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 2016:

“Mom?” Y/N called as she walked slowly down the stairs. She had returned home from university for the holidays and was confused when Vernon wasn’t at his usual spot to welcome her home. “Where’s Vernon?” He was usually back from Korea by now.

She didn’t like the look of pity her mother was giving her. “He didn’t tell you, honey? He’s been so busy with work, looks like he can’t fly back to join us for christmas this year.”

She felt her heart sink. She had been looking forward to spending time with him, even if it was just a couple of days out of the year. “Oh.” Of course, she understood. His work was important and she was sure the kpop industry couldn’t be easy. “That’s okay. I guess he must’ve been too busy to tell me.” 

--

“What are you still doing here?” Joshua frowned at Vernon, who was lying down on his bed. “Shouldn’t you be in New York by now?” He was used to Vernon flying back to New York every christmas since they had met. 

Vernon let out a huff. “Not going back this year, Josh.” 

“Why not?” His friend pressed, confused. Vernon was usually so excited to go back. “Isn’t your friend going to be sad?”

“I can’t miss any more practice before our comeback. One Christmas should be fine.” Vernon explained, although his voice betrayed his disappointment. He had been looking forward to going back home, to be able to see Y/N again. He thought to himself that one christmas couldn’t hurt, right?

One Christmas missed turned into two. Then four. Then the timing felt too long and awkward and Vernon just never got the confidence to ever go back.

10 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024: 

Korea was beautiful underneath a sheet of snow. Y/N had landed last night, having made up her mind to give living in Korea a try. Ever since graduating university and landing a job as a screenwriter, her friends and family had always urged her to try working for the Korean film scene. 

She supposed she had always just avoided the country because of Vernon.

Her new job writing for some K-drama started after New Years. She thought maybe spending Christmas in a new place would bring back the mirth and good cheer the holiday used to give her, but she knew she was here for a different reason. A selfish and pathetic one. It burned her, that a part of her still wished to bump into Vernon after all these years. She knew he was doing well, SEVENTEEN was soaring through new heights and she had kept tabs on his ongoing success. It was the only way she kept going: his large internet presence sometimes made it feel like he never even left at all.

It hurt her the most that he could be doing so well without ever seeing her again.

Rounding the corner to the coffee shop, she rubbed her raw hands to regain heat. Ordering, she was relieved to find out she could still hold a conversation in Korean. It had gone rusty, the only people she ever used Korean with back home was Vernon’s dad and sister. 

“Hello?” Someone from behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

She was greeted by a slightly taller, blond man, sporting black rimmed glasses and holding a cup of iced coffee. Her mind short circuiting a bit from the sudden Korean, she paused, trying to recollect her thoughts before replying. “I don’t think so?” 

The man’s eyes widened in sudden recognition. “You’re the girl in the Christmas photos!” He exclaimed with wonder, pointing at her as if they were long lost friends.

She squinted, giving him another look over. “Um..” She frowned, quite sure she didn’t know this man. 

“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly at her, extending his hand for a handshake. “That probably came out wrong. You’re Vernon’s friend from New York, right? I’ve seen you in the pictures on his wall.” 

She blanched, all of a sudden feeling very light and disoriented. “I’m sorry.” She smiled politely, still racking her brain furiously for the guy’s name. “How do you know Vernon?”

“I’m Seungkwan.” He explained, dropping her hand. “Vernon’s bandmate.”

She let out a sound of realization. “Ah~” She knew who he was. “Seungkwan. Sorry, I didn’t expect you to have blonde hair now.” 

Chuckling at her shy admission, Seungkwan felt strangely sad to see the girl in Korea. “When did you come to Korea?” He asked, knowing Vernon would lose his shit if he found out they had been in the same location for a while. 

“I arrived just last night.” 

He left out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Okay, at least it hadn’t been very long. “You should come to our Christmas party.” He suggested, knowing Vernon would be there. “It’s being hosted at Coups hyung’s house this year, and everyone will be there.”

Y/N shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to make things weird.” She already caught on to the fact that Seungkwan knew all about her and Vernon’s falling out, or lack of one. 

“You wouldn’t.” He insisted. “You must come. I’d hate to see you spend Christmas by yourself.” 

It didn’t take much for Y/N to relent. She supposed a part of her had been looking for a chance to see Vernon again. “Alright. I’ll stop by and say a quick hi to everyone.” 

Seungkwan’s smile was contagious as he beamed, grabbing a napkin to scribble Scoups’ address onto it and handing it to her. “It’s at 7pm on the 24th. Bring a present- something small.” He hurriedly gave her all the details as he left, mumbling about being late for a company meeting and how lovely it was to finally meet Vernon’s mystery girl.

Holding the napkin in her still freezing hand, Y/N felt utterly shipwrecked as she watched Seungkwan leave. Nine days was enough to prepare her heart to see Vernon again, right?

12 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS 2024: 

The frost in the air bit at Y/N’s face and neck as she quickly rang the doorbell to Seungcheol’s home. It was smaller than she had expected it to be, homey and comfortably situated in between two other larger houses. 

“Y/N!” Seungkwan greeted her as he opened the door, tugging her in. “Oh, look at you. You must be freezing. Come in, come in.” Taking her coat from her and hanging it up, he beamed down at her. “I’m so glad you actually came.” 

She bit back a smile, taking off her shoes. “I couldn’t turn down an invitation from Vernon’s friends.” 

“Vernon’s in the living room with the others.” Seungkwan pointed down the hall, directing her over. 

Y/N paused, loitering in the hallway between the door to the living room and the door to the kitchen. She felt strangely pulled towards the kitchen, knowing it’d be safe without the chance of a potential run-in with Vernon. Turning decisively towards the kitchen, she pretended not to hear Seungkwan’s deep sigh as he followed her in, knowing the boy was disappointed she had run away. 

“It’s the girl from Vernon’s photos!” Hoshi sprung off the kitchen island to greet her, handing her  a cup of mystery liquid. 

She sniffed it before cringing away at the strong liquor scent. “That’s me.” She mumbled, shoulders sagging a little. “Does he really still have photos of me up? 

Everyone in the kitchen nodded simultaneously. “It’s been on his wall since we were trainees.” Joshua informed her, his eyes holding a teasing glint. “Every time we move places he just puts it back up.” 

Y/N didn’t really know what to do with that information. “Oh.” She replied, looking down in her cup, thinking. “I didn’t know that.” 

Seungkwan let out a loud sigh once again. “You should go talk to him.” 

She looked up. 

“Please.” He added, his tone bordering on begging. “He’s been so grumpy. Especially during the holiday season. I got a pillow to the face for asking him a simple question yesterday.” He grumbled out, complaining about his moody roommate. 

“What did you ask him?” Joshua asked, mildly curious.

Seungkwan shrugged. “Just if he was going back to New York.”

“Of course he threw a pillow at you.” Joshua rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised he didn’t just deck you, with how you were antagonizing him. You know very well he hasn’t gone back in years.” 

Y/N watched the conversation silently, gagging quietly as she sipped the concoction Hoshi had handed her. She absorbed the information diligently, her eyes widening the more information she got on Vernon. Distance had turned him into a stranger - and now, well, she couldn’t really say she knew him at all. It was strange, having to admit someone she used to read like the back of her own hand was someone she now didn’t know at all. 

“I’m going to the living room.” She decided, having had enough of the topic. If she kept listening to them talk about Vernon’s struggles and heartache about leaving her in New York one more minute she might find herself leaving for the night. Being in the same room with Vernon was just going to be awkward silence anyways. She knew he wasn’t brave enough to approach her. At least not tonight. 

--

“Y/N!” 

It was Mingyu and Wonwoo who greeted her from the couch, the two of them in the middle of an intense round of what looked to be Mariokart. They waved at her from their place, inviting her over to sit next to them. She was painfully aware of Vernon’s eyes staring at her from his place on the rug, fingers busy with a random puzzle that was lying out. 

“Hi guys.” She smiled, sitting down, laughing when Mingyu pushed Wonwoo in an attempt to disrupt his driving. 

“We didn’t know you were in Korea for Christmas!” Mingyu exclaimed. “Good thing Seungkwan bumped into you when he did and invited you over.” 

She glanced at Vernon, who was doing his best to pretend like he wasn’t interested in their conversation. “Yeah. I moved here recently actually. Got a job writing for a TV show.” 

Vernon’s eyes widened as he fixed his stare against the white rug. 

“That’s cool.” Wonwoo smiled at Y/N, happy for her. “It’s good that you’re in Korea now.” He side eyed Vernon, frowning when he realized the boy hadn’t even spoken to Y/N. Nudging him with his foot, he gestured with his gaze. “Did you hear Vernon? Y/N got a job here.”

Vernon nodded stiffly before standing up. “I think Cheol hyung’s calling me, I’ll- I’ll go see what he wants.” And just like that he was gone, rushing out of the living room. 

Wonwoo looked apologetically at Y/N. “I’m sorry about that.”

She shrugged, although her heart had cracked at the movement. “It’s okay.” 

“Maybe now that you’re in Korea you guys can be friends again?” Mingyu suggested quietly, although a part of him wasn’t really certain about it. “Maybe?”

“Maybe.” She mumbled, taking another sip of her drink, feeling her face flush with heat. Anger or embarrassment, she couldn’t tell. 

Maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but Y/N could feel her lips start to loosen the more she sat with Mingyu and Wonwoo, the party heading later into the night. 

“You know I used to hate you guys.” She admitted all of a sudden, jolting both boys out of whatever conversation they were having. 

“What?” Wonwoo frowned. “Why?”

“I hated Vernon for choosing you guys over me.” She lowered her eyes to the floor, feeling ashamed. “I know it’s childish of me, but hating you guys was how I dealt with it. I couldn’t bring myself to hate Vernon for his own actions.” 

Mingyu looked at her with sad eyes as he patted her on the back gently. “I get that.” He reassured her, and she looked over at Wonwoo who was nodding as well. 

“Do you still hate us?” Wonwoo asked, his voice calm.

She shook her head. “No. So I guess I’m just-” She paused. “Confused now.”

She hated how pitiful their looks made her feel as she sat there, nursing her half finished drink, mind spinning. Perhaps it was time to leave her silly childhood infatuation with Vernon in the past. It seemed like he had done so already anyways. 

10 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS 2024: 

Vernon felt like throwing up the moment he saw Y/N enter the party. It felt like a vision, something he had conjured up within his own mind, until the others had greeted her and shattered his vision into reality. 

“Talk to her, you moron.” Seungkwan nudged him. He had retreated from the living room into the kitchen the moment Y/N had sat down with the others on the couch. It physically stung to be in the same room as her, with all the knowledge that he had failed her and their once cherished friendship. 

He took another gulp of his drink instead of answering Seungkwan. 

“She clearly still loves you, y’know.” The boy continued upon hearing Vernon’s silence. “Or else she wouldn’t be here. And didn’t you always tell us Y/N would follow you around like a puppy whenever you were back home as kids?” 

Screw Seungkwan and his amazing, awfully selective memory.

“So?” Vernon mumbled, rolling his shoulders back and feeling himself tense. “Things change.”

“You’ve changed.” 

Vernon stared at his friend, thrown off by the sudden harsh truths. “What?”

“I don’t think she’s changed at all, Vernon.” Seungkwan observed. “It’s you who’s changed and you who has to fix it.” He paused. “Or at least explain it to her. Why you don’t want to be friends anymore.” 

“I do want to be friends.” He stated plainly.

Seungkwan cut his eyes at him, exasperated. “Then tell her that. Jeez, bro. You suck at this.” 

“We’re swapping presents now!” Seungcheol poked his head out from behind the hallway door. “Everyone in the living room!” 

Vernon grabbed his present from the counter and headed in behind Seungkwan and Joshua, turning the box in his hands as he examined the poor wrapping job he had done last night. He had bought the most generic gift he could find, knowing it was going to be a random swap with the boys. The thing he hadn’t accounted for was Y/N showing up - and now it had thrown both his present and him off the game. 

“Grab a pair.” Seungcheol announced loudly to everyone in the room, as there was a mad scramble for partners. 

Vernon found himself standing alone in the midst of his bandmates all already coupled up, limbs tangled together in an awkward mad dash for a partner. His eyes met the only other person with a partner and he stifled a pained cry. 

“It looks like you and Y/N are exchanging gifts this year, Non.” Seungkwan shot him a large grin from his spot next to Mingyu.

He knew this had to be preplanned - fate couldn’t be this cruel, right?

“Go on.” Seungkwan poked him in the back, urging him to approach Y/N, who suddenly seemed to be very captivated by a nearby portrait of Seungcheol and Kkmua, placed on the shelf next to her. She stared at it intensely, although Vernon knew she was still hyper-aware of the fact that he was slowly walking towards her. She had that funny way of darting her eyes towards the person she was avoiding while not facing in their direction. 

“Y/N.” Her name sounded so foreign yet so familiar across his tongue as he spoke.

“Vernon.” 

Her voice felt like coming home. 

“Here.” He placed his gift in her hands as he took hers, turning it awkwardly in his hands. “What is it?” He asked, shaking it gently. 

The corners of her mouth lifted. “Telling you would defeat the purpose of it being a surprise.” 

“You said that last time too.” 

He watched her stiffen at his words and he immediately regretted bringing up the past. They both knew last time had been years ago. 

“I guess I did.” She replied stiffly, turning his gift in her hands. “What’s yours?”

“Thought you liked your presents to be a surprise?” He recalled, remembering how she used to whine that he must wrap her presents, when the teenage him had insisted that just putting it in a bag would be fine. 

“I do.” Her tone made it sound like she was just remembering that fact herself. She looked up and shot him an awkward smile. “I guess I don’t really know what to say.”

“Me either.” 

He could’ve sworn he saw her face drop at his words. 

They separated soon after, the uncomfortable silence taking over and suffocating them both out of the vicinity of each other. Vernon returned to his spot in the kitchen, picking at the pieces of takeout still leftover on the counter, listening to the others squabble over meaningless things. 

He watched Y/N leave, feet rooted by the hallway door and mouth firmly shut closed - he didn’t trust himself to say goodbye to her - he knew that if he had, a million unsaid words would have spilled out and the night would have ended terribly for the both of them. But it was the fear that kept him still most of all, as he watched her exchange numbers with Seungkwan, hugging the others and promising to keep in touch. He stayed as still as a statue as the door shut behind her. 

“You idiot.” Seungkwan turned to face him as soon as he locked the door. 

“Seungkwan.” Seungcheol’s warning tone made Vernon look at him. He was sending a strong warning glance at the boy. 

“What?” Seungkwan protested. “He is being stupid.” 

“I think I’m going to head back.” Vernon mumbled, grabbing his coat and hurriedly throwing it on, Y/N’s gift clutched tightly under his arm as he headed for the door. “Thanks for the party, Coups hyung.” He called behind him, shutting the door behind him and welcoming in the cool, biting winter air. 

He released the pent up breath that had been choking him all night and furiously wiped away the tears that had begun to form the moment he shut the door behind him. 

“Idiot.” He quietly chided himself. “So stupid.”

CHRISTMAS 2018: 

“Are you really never going back to New York?” Joshua prodded at his arm with an insistent jab of a finger. 

Vernon hummed in response. “There’s no point. My family prefers coming to Korea for the holidays anyways. They get to visit family here and everything.” 

“What about your girlfriend?”

Vernon turned his head to see Joshua sporting a shit eating grin. “You know she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Might as well be.” He shrugged, pointing at the various photos that featured her against his wall. “Look at your pathetic loving gaze at her in all of these photos. You’re not even looking at the camera in any of these.” 

Vernon frowned at his comment, taking a good look at the photos and realizing Joshua was right. “Doesn’t matter what I feel, hyung. She’s not my girlfriend.”

“She’ll never be if you don’t go back.” Joshua suddenly got serious, as he shifted in his seat to look at Vernon better. “Is there an actual reason why you won’t go back? I know we were too busy the last two years but this year we’re free.” 

Vernon stayed silent even though the answer was clear as day in his mind. He was scared, terrified even. Terrified he had hurt her by neglecting her due to his heavy schedules, that she would slam the door in his face if he tried to visit her. “I don’t want to see her hate me.” He finally spat out, cringing as he said it. 

Joshua let out a tiny noise of understanding. “So you’re avoiding her. Pretending so you don’t have to deal with the consequences.”

“When you put it like that you make me sound like an asshole.” 

Joshua gave him a look that bordered on pitiful. “I don’t know what to tell you, man.” 

“I’d rather remember her like this, y’know?” He said, pointing at the way she smiled at him in the pictures on his wall. “Instead of-”

“She might not hate you.” Joshua reminded him quietly from next to him. 

“I really, really doubt that, hyung.” 

5 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS: 

It wasn’t computing properly into Vernon’s head that you had just gotten him the one thing he’s been wanting all his life. 

He had been ogling the Novation Launchpad Pro that was currently sitting on his work table for the last hour, not really believing what he was seeing with his own two eyes. Unwrapping it had been a heart attack in of itself, as he opened up Y/N’s present to reveal the one thing that had been sitting on the top of his childhood wish list since he could remember. Even now, as a famous artist who could afford the splurge, he had never gotten it for himself, knowing it was a luxury and a purchase he didn’t necessarily need. 

“What the fuck, Y/N.” He muttered in disbelief, sliding his palm down his face as he continued to stare at the gift. It was fucking fantastic and exactly what he wanted, and it made him feel even worse about the whole situation. 

She might not hate you. He recalled the words Joshua had told him one time, Christmases ago. 

“Someone who hated me wouldn’t have gotten me this, right?” He said aloud to himself, reaching a timid hand out to fiddle with the launchpad controls. “How did she even know we’d be exchanging gifts anyways?” And how on earth does she know I never got myself one? In what felt like a split second decision, Vernon felt himself walking towards the door of his apartment, sliding his shoes on and grabbing his keys - only one destination in mind. He had to fix this, somehow. Because there was no fucking way she still hated him.

4 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS:

She would’ve complained that the sudden doorbell at 3am woke her up but she hadn’t really been sleeping. Y/N had been lying in bed with her eyes wide open since the moment she’d gotten home, the bag of chocolates and various snacks from Vernon left on her kitchen counter. She had stifled a laugh when she opened it - even till this day, Vernon’s go to gift was still the same. Chocolate and snacks can never fail, he had told her, defending his choice of gift. Especially when you don’t know the person too well. 

She supposed that line made sense for their situation too. 

“Vernon?” She squinted at the figure standing on her porch in the dark. “What are you doing here?” She rubbed her eyes, mildly wondering if she was dreaming. 

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he stared down at her. “You got me the launchpad.” 

She blinked. “Yeah.”

“How’d you know?”

She stared back at him, stunned at his bluntness and the randomness of the current setting. “You never shut up about it.” 

His mouth opened and closed again. She watched as he tried looking for words, his vocabulary ultimately failing him. 

“Come inside.” She said quietly, noticing how the harsh winter wind blew at his thin coat. Dragging him gently inside, she shut the door behind them both, turning around awkwardly to face him. She never thought she’d ever see him in his apartment - yet he looked so perfect.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, eyes darting around her place, taking it all in. “I know it’s late.” Glancing down at her pajamas, his lips quivered in a small smile. “Cute.”

“What?” She stared at him indignantly, completely thrown off by his behaviour. “Are you drunk?” She reached out a hand to touch his face, trying to check his temperature, but he caught her hand in his before she could reach. 

“I’m not drunk, Y/N.” He dropped her hand like it had burned him. 

“Then what are you here for?”

She watched him moisten his lips as he stalled for time. 

“I wanted to say sorry.” He finally said, his words tumbling out as if they had been held back for long enough. “I shouldn’t have cut you off like that.” 

She thought she’d have a more visceral reaction to the apology she had been waiting for all this time, but she didn’t. “Why are you saying this now? It’s been nearly ten years, Vernon.” 

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

Her shoulders sagged at his words and the sight of his dejected, ashamed face. “Why didn’t you come back? Or text me?” She asked him, pleading for an answer. 

He finally looked up and met her eyes. “I guess I was scared. I got busy one year and didn’t go back- and I neglected our friendship. And then-” He paused, his voice breaking. “I left, and time passed and staying away felt simpler than going back. No goodbye felt better than a bad one.” 

“It wouldn’t have been a bad goodbye.” 

He shook his head. “You hated me.” 

She looked away, remembering all the times she had cursed him for leaving her behind when she was younger. “Maybe. But never for long.” She mustered all her courage to tell him her next words. “I loved you too much to hate you for very long.” 

Vernon blinked at her. “You loved me?”

She hummed in response, still not quite looking at him. They stood there, by her door, in the dim lights of her apartment. 

“How did you even get my address?” She suddenly asked, forgetting he shouldn’t have known where to find her. 

Vernon stayed silent, his mind still reeling from the sudden love confession. She used to love me? 

“Vernon.” Y/N nudged him. 

“Oh.” He finally responded, although his own voice felt like light years away as his mind continued to reel. “I asked my sister. Didn’t know you guys still talked.” 

“Oh.” 

“You used to love me?” He asked, incredulous, not quite believing her words. “Why?”

She laughed, and the sound wrapped around Vernon like her hugs used to. “What do you mean, why? Of course I loved you. I followed you around like a lost kid our entire childhood.” 

“I loved you too, y’know.” 

Her smile dropped as she paused mid-laugh. “What?” 

He took a step closer to her, unsure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Vernon searched her eyes for some figment of affection, for truth, for the way she used to look at him when they were younger. “I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.” He finally admitted. “I definitely tried to, but your hold on me lasted through distance and time.” 

“Me too.” 

“What?”

“I never stopped loving you too.”

[wintergrofyuri]

i am of the opinion gender doesnt exist to any creature in the construct (except for the narrator). the princesses are only shaped like women. they have no use for gender. the voices even less so, considering they dont have bodies.

"oh but they use he/him" "oh but they use she/her" and? that doesnt mean shit. its the same as using she/her for a boat.

one of the princesses even said herself, in plain emglish, they dont need labels. theyre not human. theyre not mortal. this shit is just whatever to them. if not for the narrator im not even sure they'd Use pronouns.

now, femininity and masculinity are Still big parts of the metanarrative, but besides like. how it affects people and media, i dont think gender itself matters at all. the princess is more the Idea of a woman. and the long quiet is the Idea of a man.

i actually have a lot to say about this but 1) im tired and 2) this post aint about that. point is: they're all trans and gay. use whatever pronouns you want. call them whatever you want. none of it matters, positively.

[for-a-longlongtime]

@max--phillips

I so agree with your tags 😂 He’a ridiculous and this is probably the most cringey thing I’ve ever seen him do, but do your thing Pedro 😂

Also can I just say — I love how he’s spending Christmas Eve apparently the same way as I am doing (with my wife), namely in sweats and 🚬 🍃

Btw he clearly was already effective in trying to get that movie’s director’s (Halina Reijn!!) attention, because she’s been following him and Franklin on Instagram (thanks for that heads up, @youandmeand5bucks!). Get this man his own nineties style erotic thriller STAT!!

Oh- and he keeps wearing that red string bracelet… is that a Kabbalah thing or something?

oh no…what’s happening…🚶‍♀️…🧎‍♀️

[himluv]

Idk, man. Seems like a buckwild take to say that just because Lucanis can't heal with Neve the way he does with Rook makes him and Neve a bad pairing. Like, there's no one right person for anyone. One True Love™ isn't real and there are all kinds of relationships that work just fine. There's no one right way to deal with trauma. And love comes in so many shapes and sizes.

I don't think it's outside the realm of possibility that Neve and Lucanis help each other get better together. It won't look the same as either does with Rook, because, well, they aren't with Rook (???).

But I firmly believe that both of them would hold their partner to a higher standard, demand that they accept more love than they think they deserve, because they want better for their partners. And while that might not lead to Lucanis unraveling his trauma à la Mind Prison, it doesn't mean Neve couldn't help him find another route through.

(I also think it's a bit unkind to think a 35-36 year old man who has already dealt with his childhood trauma (re: he "doesn't resent Caterina anymore", implying he once did and he worked through his shit) wouldn't eventually work through the Ossuary and Spite on his own. It would just be slower and look different and that's OKAY! Romance is not a prerequisite for dealing with trauma.)

Also, and I will die on this hill, it is not "bad writing" to have Lucanis be unromanceable by a Rook who chose to save Minrathous. Lucanis views that choice, as logical as it may be, as a betrayal. You've betrayed Treviso, the Crows, and him. And, he's someone who REQUIRES a close emotional attachment to feel attraction (demisexual, hello???). So, yeah. You let his city and people die a slow terrible death to the blight, he isn't going to fall in love with you. He literally can't. It makes complete sense and I thought it was a BRILLIANT choice by the writers. If you save Minrathous, you get a totally different Lucanis and I think that's incredible.

Neve doesn't lock you out if you save Treviso because she is a much more rational and logical thinker than Lucanis. Lucanis is called "soft-hearted" and "sentimental" multiple times across the game and tie-in media, where Neve is known for her icy exterior, wit and cleverness. It makes complete sense.

I am begging people to stop calling elements they personally dislike "bad writing".

[threepandas]

Bad End: Trust

"Meet your new mates, cargo! Get breeding!"

I didn't understand the bellowed noises at the time. It was just incoherent gibberish. Heaped on top of what was likely a concussion, mixed with what ever drugs they had pumped me with. Thrown into a cell, roughly, and hitting the ground hard. I couldn't have caught myself if I had wanted too. My limbs, unresponsive and dragging meat, that I could barely FEEL.

Please, god, I had thought. Don't let me be paralyzed. Not on top of everything else.

They'll kill me.

Behind and around me, the weeping cries of sorrow and fear rang out. Screams of violence, born of desperation. Countless races, bound together, suffering in this hell. Newly enslaved. I didn't... I couldn't understand. Shaking and struggling to remain conscious, laying on the blood stained floor. The world swayed violently. It was all I could do, to barely keep from passing out.

It was so cold. The air, the floor, the deep and clawing despair, sinking like knives into my gut. Those furry... things, had grabbed me while I was alone, before I could react. W-would anyone notice? Could anyone DO anything? I wanted to get away from the door. Curl up in a corner and... and cry. But I could not move. Like a doll, dropped thoughtlessly on the floor, I could not... could not move.

Tears I likely could not afford, threatened to choke me.

I... I was scared.

Then, deeper in the hovel that was my new home, movement. The heavy clink of chains. Shifting, slow and careful, followed by the drag of metal. A warm hand. Fingers, calloused but careful, checking my neck. My pulse, for injury perhaps, I couldn't tell. But... god, i could have sobbed in relief. They... they felt human.

How terrible of me. That I was GLAD not to be alone. T-That it was relief, to have another person here. Someone who might know what's going on. What to do. To.. to stick with. I... I should wish it was just me, right? That they captured no one else? But... oh god. O-Oh God, I can't! I'm scared. Please. P-please...

I'm so scared.

The person checking me hummed low and soft. Their voice crackling like an old radio that's been left sitting on a shelf too long, unused. How.. how long has it been? Since they last had anyone to talk too? They sounded male, but.. but I didn't want to presume. Could just have a low voice. Throat injury. Might be Trans. I didn't care, couldn't care. I was pretty sure? We were all we had now.

They... no, He, found nothing alarming enough not to move me. Shifting into view as he gently slipped his arms under me. Enough to pick me up and carry me away from the door. He was... is... pretty handsome.

Okay, REALLY handsome.

Horrifically enough? I could see WHY they grabbed him. Athletic as hell, TV ready, really smart. If you were going to ignore ever bit of decency and morality to ever exsist? Might as well go for the best, I guess. Don't know why they grabbed ME, but I guess? They need a stand in or something? Or my predecessor is dead.

(God, I hope she's dead. The alternative...)

Pretty quickly became apparent, though, that one of the main problems (of so, SO many)? Was we don't actually speak the same language. Which... I mean... Well, shit. That's, putting it mildly, "less then ideal". Being unable to communicate with the only other person nominally on "My Side"? Kinda bad! But, I AM learning. And I am teaching him english! So there's that.

We have nothing but time, after all. It helps distract from the suffering just outside. The weeping and screams. The sounds that must be begging, in alien dialects. All the mercies they do not find.

(Is it terrible? That I am glad I can not understand what they are saying? Their cries for help? I can't help them. It hurts. Helpless to even save my self. God, I'm sorry. Please... I'm... I'm so sorry...)

Food gets shoved in. Lights flipped on. Lights shut off. The timer odd, but probably standard for somewhere. It's like being told to go to sleep halfway through the afternoon. Yanked awake before full nights are done. I struggle to adapt, even a little, following my fellow prisoner's lead. Or, well, trying too. There's a lot of charades at first.

Then, practicing our languages. Taking what naps and cuddling for warmth we can. Harsh lights be damned. It's cold, we're tired, but we have to keep our strength up. Right? Throughout it all, I try to ignore the weird smells they pump in. Still not used to getting random scents blasted at my head from above, from the air vents in the walls.

Day in, day out, rinse and repeate. The weird gasses smells like people have had sex, to be honest. I think? But don't quote me. They might be trying to get us to "mate", like animals, so they can sell our kids. Induce some nonexistent human heat cycle or something. I've kinda started to worry, not gonna lie, about what they'll do... you know, once they finally get frustrated. Figure out, we don't work like that.

Or... more relevantly, might not even be? Compatible?

Cause Azenari is DEFINITELY not a human. They fucked uuuup. Cause if he is? There is some probably serious divergent evolution going on. He did NOT get nabbed from Earth. HE got nabbed from his SHIP(as in, yeah, a fuckin Space Ship). Because HIS people are space faring! The man has pointy ears for fucks sake! Some seriously fangy canines. And while, yeah, seriously kinda cool? No idea if our species are related, or... you know...

So yeah, The Fur Covered Slaver Bastards are apparently Humanoid face blind, on TOP of being just generally terrible. Or dumb! Might be dumb, honestly. Wouldn't put it past them. Banality of evil and all that. But recently? There was a... tension. Something was coming. The Bastards seemed twitchy.

"Not long now, beloved. We're two stops from the extraction ambush." Azenari murmured, from where he was tucked loosely around me as I watch the latest patrol pass, one arm cradling me tight. Even as, with the other hand, he sleepily stroked my back. "You'll look lovely in proper robes. You deserve finery, my love."

I couldn't understand most of the sentence. Normally he simplified for me, since I was still learning. He seemed... pleased? Smug? The more tense and twitchy the Bastards got, the more darkly amused he seemed to become. As though he knew exactly why. As though he was laughing inside.

"My magnificent darling, you'll belong to me in everyway that matters. I'll take safer jobs. No more slave ring stings. I promise."

Oh. I think I got it. Azenari though of me as family! Yeah, that tracked. Trauma bonding and all. I did too. Couldn't help but smile, hugging him back, much to his clear delight. Yeah. We were in this together.

I'm glad I had someone I could trust. The universe was big and I would be pretty much alone without him. All but thrown at his feet and told I was his, Azenari had every chance to hurt me. But he didn't. He was a good man. Solid and stable when everything when frightening, warm and there when I needed to hide.

Really, it was only a matter of time before we would be chatting like old friends!

"You are NEVER going to escape me, beloved."

"I Love You."

[theamazingaxleyax]

Reblogging this with my updated T.B.o.B. plans and where some of this will come into play.

Piebald will be featured eventually. My reasoning for why she hasn't appeared is because she's traveling currently

The relatives and spirits will play a role. (Lore drop for my AU, but due to April being possessed by Karai, and Mikey being.... Mikey, they are especially in tune with the spiritual plane)

Oh there are plenty of Hidden cities. There's definitely one in Japan that will be featured. And, if I choose to add a couple of other characters, one in Louisiana

Donnie being averse to certain types textures will be based on my own sensory issues because, well, that's what I have the most experience with. (Funnily enough, a lot of the stuff he displays having issues with are VERY similar to my own)

Sunita will be there, and nobody can stop me, and yes, her and Donnie will be besties. All three of them are the members of the April O'Neil Dorky Pals For Life, although Sunita isn't as dorky.

As for the Donnie medic thing, I personally believe that Donnie himself helps Leo with medic-ing. Donnie is the backup medic in case Leo is out of commission. He knows the procedures, but when it comes to blood? He cannot deal with that, or any other bodily fluids for that matter unless he absolutely HAS to.

Mayhem will there. He's my baby, and it's a crime that he's overlooked so much.

Hueso Jr! Okay, so, I am aware that Leo says something about Jr. being in college or something, but I can't get over like... a little 9 to 11 year old skele-kid that absolutely ADORES Leo, and wants to be just like him. Also, screw you, this is my AU, I do what I want. (This is a MAJOR /j, I love you guys.)

I want to give Usagi more than being Leo's love interest, so I'm moving his introduction back a bit. (Mostly so I can do my research on him so I can create an accurate Rise version of him)

Same thing with the comic characters

I definitely plan on adding characters from other iterations. (If you didn't see the authors note on chapter 1, I plan on eventually adding Tim into the equation, thank PineTreeVillain and CupcakeSlushie for ruining my aro Donnie hc lol) And, being completely honest, I only know like... three things about 2003 LH, but I already completely and utterly adore him, so he will very likely be added.

Mikey will indeed get a pet cat. In fact, he gets two! One will be the stereotypical orange tabby. Energetic chaos, and has -1 braincells. The other is, again, a stereotypical black cat. Solitary, and spooky. Orange boys name is Klunk, and black girls name is Salem. Salem was a gift from April, and Klunk was a stray cat that Raph brought home and gave to Mikey. Until he gets those two though, he helps Repo take care of Ms. Nubbins. (I'd like to imagine that thanks to Mikey, Repo can now let Ms. Nubbins wander around the junkyard freely without the fear of her eating someone.

The sibling interactions will be very heavily based on my own interactions with my siblings. And that includes giving kisses goodnight because showing affection is a VERY big thing in my family, and I can tell that that's the case as well with the Rise sibs. (Or at least Mikey)

And lastly BIG MAMA REDEMPTION ARC!!! By the time the main timeline for T.B.o.B. has started, Big Mama had her redemption arc already, BUT I plan on writing a oneshot/short story for her redemption, just like I did Hypno. (Though hers might be a bit more narrative than Hypno's)

Ideas/things I think are underutilized in rottmnt fanworks:

-Piebald

-Leo’s “lucky rock” (air turtle ep. for reference)

-the fact that Big mama willingly participated in the “doom dome” and maybe even at the Nexus at one point

-Lou Jitsu’s past and relatives

-the multitude of spirits seen in the s2 finale

-mystic trinkets and artifacts (you can never have too many!)

-yokai background characters

-the hidden city seemingly being run by fear (mobsters, power, etc.)

-more hidden cities outside of NY

-Baron Draxum being driven to a villain role only because he sought to protect the yokai race (he isn’t all that evil)

-Leo’s disgust of romance (…at least develop Leo into a romance role…)

-Donnie isn’t averse to EVERYTHING goopy and weird. (Like the yokai pizza he ate w/Leo in “operation: normal” and the Joey pouch he sat in with Leo in “hidden city job”)

-Sunita. look, she clearly has a taste for fashion (the fashion turtle pointed THAT out) and she chose to go into SCIENCE/biology class, out of many options. She would be besties with Donnie.

-those crab brothers

-tmnt iteration crossovers (there isn’t enough out there)

-Donnie (probably) being the medic (y’all are gonna hate me for this. But. I honestly don’t see that much to support medic Leo. it makes an excellent headcanon though! It looks like Donnie designed the entire medbay and patented the suits and whatnot in “down with the sickness”. Also he started spewing medical-talk when unmutated piebald fell out of the fishbowl.

-MAYHEM

-Senor Hueso’s son (Hueso Jr?)

-other Yojimbo/samurai rabbit characters! I’m tired of ONLY seeing usagi. Where’s gen? Chizu? Katsuichi? At least do your research y’all pleassseee. At least read a wiki page because so many usagis I’m seeing are so ooc that he’s just there to be Leo’s love interest. Cmon.

-Draxum’s son sloppy joe(seph)

-Characters from the rottmnt comics.

-Battle Nexus monsters (Lou Jitsu mostly fought hydras, big creatures, etc.)

-Renet!!!

-other characters from pre-existing tmnt iterations (Rocksteady, leatherhead, tigerclaw, Lita, Bebop, I could go on….)

-the turtles adopting a cat (rise Mikey hasn’t had the best of luck with cats though)

-space adventures! Triceratons! Aliens! Robots! please

-sibling kisses. Hugs and stuff. Now.

-Big Mama redemption arc??? I still haven’t seen one. She was actually pretty close to redemption towards the finale. We haven’t seen her in the movie, so who knows?

[nixthelapin]

Midnight Thought on the Ithaca Saga (spoilers)

When Athena is hoping for a kinder world, I like how Odysseus doesn’t shoot her down (I think he had his fill of that with the suitors, ha ha ha), but just says it won’t be in his life. Why? Because he’s not saying it’s impossible, just that that kind of change takes more time and sacrifice than he can give. And that actually reminded me of something: in the Bible, King David wanted to build a temple to God, but God said no because of all the blood on his hands- David was a king during wartime, he is not meant to lead Israel in peace. But his son, Solomon? He would be the peacetime king, he built the temple, and coincidentally was also known for his wisdom (and his 700 concubines, but that’s irrelevant here).

Basically- TELEMACHUS AND ATHENA WORKING TO MAKE THE WORLD BETTER!!!

[I don’t really think Jorge was using the David-Solomon thing as inspiration or a reference, I just thought it was a cool similarity- especially the wisdom part, which I only realized while writing this. ]

Telemachus wants to “bring the world some light,” and she accepted his friendship rather than just a mentor-mentee relationship, showing that she’s opening her arms. Together, they can make a greater tomorrow that she couldn’t do with Odysseus. His part in the war was important, but there’s still work to be done, work Telemachus is very eager to accomplish.

He was also just coming back from a “diplomatic mission,” which shows more of that open arms mindset, something even the more innocent version of Odysseus didn’t really do! (I know in the actual Odyssey he went in search of his dad, but I don’t think that’s the same case here since there was no mention of a plan to do that on his end, plus Jorge had to change how Odysseus actually made it back to the island to fit his story.) Diplomacy is a lot about alliances and making peace, not about outsmarting/outmaneuvering enemies. It still requires wisdom and intelligence, but the world is not changed for the better by swords alone.

Odysseus’ story required him to embrace ruthlessness, but because of that, his son Telemachus doesn’t have to.

And I am so PSYCHED for the new wisdom duo. GO MAKE A GREATER TOMORROW!!!

[edit: it also ties into one of Circe’s last lines: “maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more”]