#I need to eventually start posting this shit to ao3 damn

[thebleedingeffect]

Alrighty this is a lil snippet of a Wild and Twilight scene that I worked on for a day or two! Some context for this scene, this is pretty soon after they escape Cia and make the deal with totk Ganondorf for him to remove Cia's seal off them and to teleport them somewhere random. Just a short lil scene of some Twilight and Wild bonding + Twilight freaking out a bit over being corrupted with Gloom.

also!! @trangender-herooftime this is the very beginning of the corrupted/gloom Link saga that I mentioned a couple days ago! like always, I'm always okay if you don't wanna be tagged :]] I just wanted to cause I know you said you were interested lmao.

Now for some gloom infected Wild and Twilight >:3 a bit of angst and foreboding stuff with an actual sweet scene.

-

Twilight didn’t notice the mark at first.

It was a small thing, hidden underneath the thick layers of fear, grim, and blood that had steadily coated his skin until the color of his skin was no different than the dirt underneath his feet. The small, blackened patch throbbed, like a painful bruise that pulsed in time with his heartbeat and burned at the slightest touch, the skin around nearly consumed in a reddened fever that had Twilight’s face twisting in a grimace. At first the distant throb of pain was hardly anything important, with his entire body being consumed in pain and fear, the distant ache that began to pierce through his shoulder was hardly worth registering.

Blood coated his knees, his own and everyone else’s, a mixture of such a deep, consuming red that Twilight wasn’t confident he could pinpoint where the pain ended and he began. The ache was so inconsequential, so quiet amongst the cacophony of gashes and splitting skin, that it had simply faded from Twilight’s mind as quietly and as suddenly as it appeared. Now, Twilight couldn’t help the pained exhale as he stared down at the muddied pool of water at his own battered reflection.

Blackened water dripped down into the water, the thickened layers of grim being scrapped off with each rough scratch of nails digging at the skin underneath. Twilight could only dredge up the distant feeling of disgust at the feeling of his own dried blood gathering beneath his nails, only passing a grim glance at the sight before dipping his hands back into the water. The surrounding forest was quiet, peaceful even, a sight so familiar that Twilight could only attempt to ignore the pain scratching up from his throat.

The treeline faded back as Twilight caught the sight of the strange mark once again. It was dark, pitch black even, a stark contrast to the pale skin that cowered beneath the light of the day. Thin lines of red pulsed in time with the dim fever, a bright crimson that festered and bled into the rest of his skin until it sang along with the thrum of pain that enveloped every part of his body. 

Now, underneath Twilight’s worried stare, the blackened patch seemed to squirm restlessly, unable to simply hide how it had burrowed itself into Twilight’s shoulder. Twilight couldn’t help the immediate thought that it looked sick, rotted even, the kind of festering wound that would occasionally appear on the unlucky farm animal in Ordon. Most animals didn’t survive sickness, the rot would simply engulf them until its roots were far too ensnared within the very flesh that it was more of a mercy for it to die. The thought brings with it a distant kind of memory, one when he was far too small and young to be anywhere close to the scent of death.

Twilight remembers the smell of rot that had enveloped the barn, the soft mummers of comfort that fell on deaf ears to the goat that was struggling in a pool of its own misery and blood. Looking back, it was one of his first encounters with death, and through the thin opening of the barn’s door he had watched as the doctor gave a defeated sigh as she had leaned back from the goat. The sight of blackened blood had burned itself into Twilight then, the futile noises of an animal grasping for life despite death practically reeking from every one of its orifices.

Later, Twilight had learned that the goat had been battling a severe sickness, an infection, one that had started from a messy pregnancy as the mother had simply been unable to pass all of its babies. The infection was simply too far deep into the mother’s flesh, too late to help, too much pain for any one animal to bear. 

 Twilight had never seen that goat again, after he was caught by Rusl and was taken back home with a gentle hand on his shoulder and a kind expression as he told Twilight of death. It was a natural thing, Twilight had learned how death could be cruel and kind in equal turns, it was something that he had long made peace with the first time that he had taken up a sword. 

But there was something different about sickness, the kind of rot that he had seen consume that goat that day until it could only scream out in pain that had no salvation or saving grace. The scent of rot clogged Twilight’s nose, the smell more and more putrid the longer that he stared at the growing black mass that looked back at him through his reflection. Twilight realized with a jolt of horror that he wasn’t quite sure when it had appeared, but his gut twisted and dropped with a dawning dread that had him swallowing down nausea. 

The rustling of grass snapped Twilight’s eyes from his reflection, teeth grinding in poorly-hidden fear as Wild gently stopped a handful of paces away. Shock stilled Wild for a moment, before a quiet horror took its place at the black dripping into the water. Not a single word was spoken, not as Twilight felt the adrenaline fall away and neither when Wild’s eyes twisted in understanding. Seconds sluggishly moved passed, each moment painfully slow as Twilight dimly watched Wild approach, the dirtied riverbank crunching beneath his feet.

No word was spoken, the quiet mercifully untouched as the gentle wind that swept along the river’s water brought the taste of salt along with it. It wasn’t enough to cleanse him from the rot that still sat stubbornly on his tongue, but he could still manage the slightest twinge of his lips at the cool breeze.

“I… I didn’t realize, I never wanted-”

“It’s okay, Wild. It’s… I’m not surprised.” Twilight feels more than sees how Wild stiffens beside him, the pain practically radiating from Wild’s side as he glares back down into the water with despairing gleam in his eyes. The stilted silence pervades the tranquility of the water before the both of them, the seconds making the dread in Twilight’s stomach all the more heavier until the sight of charred skin catches his eye.

Red veins pulse sluggishly from the very center of the mass and Twilight pushes down the sick feeling, the urge to throw up growing stronger by the second until Wild shuffles again.

“...Does it hurt?” The smile that appears on Twilight’s face is a genuine one, the edges of it curling with warmth as Twilight meets Wild’s own nervous eyes with his own. The burn of Wild’s troubled, frantic glances at his exposed shoulder only made Twilight’s smile soften further, giving a slight chuckle before leaning back from the water.

“No, it’s just… warm.” Truthfully, Twilight could admit to himself that it felt like something was alive under his skin, just barely scratching against his bones with dull claws that spoke of malice, hatred even. Not sharp enough to hurt, not yet anyway, but just enough that Twilight swore he could feel another heartbeat along his own. 

“I promise you, Wild. I’m okay, if anything I should be the one asking you that.” A good-natured smirk tugged up on Twilight’s lips, pulling himself completely from the water’s edge and shifting closer to Wild’s side. Twilight’s smile dimmed as Wild pulled his own blackened arm closer, guilt clouding his already dark expression 

“...You weren’t supposed to be hurt, none of you were, that wasn’t part of the deal at all-” Wild dug his fingernails into the pitch black flesh of his new arm, veins of gloom pulsing angrily against the dull green glow until reddened smoke weaved themselves inbetween Wild’s fingers. Twilight had hardly registered the thought before he was gently wedging his hand into Wild’s own, white-knuckled and gloom-infested as it was, but Twilight hardly cared.

“Would you rather have dealt with Ganondorf all alone?” Twilight kept his voice quiet, tightening his hand into Wild’s own as a shaky, watery exhale was Wild’s only response.

“I should’ve, I should’ve just demanded something else- gone alone- just anything else but this.”

“...Let me tell you something about my own Ganondorf, Wild.” Twilight hardly breathed as Wild fell into his shoulder, shuddering breaths wracking his body with violent jolts that had Twilight pulling him just the slightest bit closer. 

“Midna, a friend of mine, was the first one who told me about Ganondorf. He was a cunning man, intelligent, a commander, the truest example of the Gerudo King in every sense of the word. But… I didn’t want to believe her, not at first.” Twilight pushed down the bittersweet longing that tinged his words, ignoring the curious glance that Wild gave before forcing himself to continue.

“I was told that I was the hero, I had no idea what that meant at the time but I knew that people needed help and I was the only one there to fill that role. There might’ve been a princess waiting for me, but before that? I was just trying to save whoever I could.” 

“The idea of him was terrifying, but I never admitted that to my Zelda, or Midna. Never before and never afterwards, I just couldn’t say out loud that I was scared, wasn’t sure if I could risk being so when there was already so much at stake.” The memories felt distant and yet so extremely fresh, if Twilight focused he could swear that he could still feel Midna’s gaze burning into him, an uncharacteristic grave expression drawn onto her face. Midna had burned with a hatred that he hadn’t quite understood, a loathing that she hardly ever had the strength to explain.

It was a hatred that he had only seen matched during the very height of Zant’s madness, an endless muttering prayer for an angry ‘god’ that had taken depraved pity on him.

Twilight understood then, without even muttering a word to Midna as she mercilessly crushed Zant against her rightful throne.

 “Until before I knew it, there was no more time to wonder about what kind of man could become a god, because I was meeting that same man.” Twilight still remembered the flash of recognition that had burned through him at the sight of Ganondorf sitting upon Hyrule’s throne, the very image of a scorned king. Nothing was said, yet he had known with a frightening certainty that it was him, just as Ganondorf smirked back at him with a knowing look.

Perhaps destiny had always demanded that they would meet, would always fall back into each other’s orbit, just like how Ganondorf’s shadow would always inevitably fall back over him.

Maybe Ganondorf was just waiting to make his mark. 

Twilight pointedly did not look down at his shoulder at that thought.

“But the one thing that I couldn’t doubt, the one thing that I knew, was that Ganondorf wasn’t a fair man. He had cheated, manipulated, and taken advantage of every single scrap of power that he could get his hands on, all the way up until he reached that throne.”

“Ganondorf… your Ganondorf, I don’t think he was any different. That’s why I don’t blame you, because I would’ve hated myself even more if you were forced to go through it alone.”

The silence after Twilight’s admission was palpable, an incredibly heavy weight that pushed down on his shoulders, but he couldn’t say that he felt guilty or embarrassed at all at his words. Simply, it was the truth, Twilight would’ve rather share the gloom steadily corrupting him to his very bones rather than watch uselessly as Wild crumbled away. What use is a hero that could sit uselessly, without a purpose? Only able to stand quietly aside as the scarily few pieces of his family scattered away?

Family? Was that what Wild was now? Twilight dared to meet Wild’s eyes as the thought lingered in the forefront of Twilight’s mind, the simple word so scarily simple yet terrifying. Wild stared back, eyes pinched in contemplation and pain as the grip around Twilight’s hand tightened minutely, the subtle shake in his palms stilling slightly underneath Twilight’s own comforting squeeze. Moments passed like that, until Wild sharply pulled Twilight to his side and buried his face into the still dirtied skin covering his neck.

Twilight smiled softly, entwining his arms around Wild’s torso and pulling him even closer with a fervor that caused his smile to shake subtly where it was hidden in the grimy mess of Wild’s hair. 

“...I wanted to do it alone, that was what I had planned.”

“I know.”

“It was only supposed to be me.”

“But it wasn’t.”

Twilight felt Wild melt further into the hug, his shoulder growing suspiciously warm as Wild fell silent once again until the soft breeze running atop the river’s water drowned out the sound. The forest's edge danced with the slight wind, shuffling until Twilight could taste the sense of home beneath all of the fear and torment that had clung to them all like a second skin. Twilight could only admit the truth to himself then, accept it without a single doubt, that Wild was part of his family now.

Perhaps they all were, every single one of them managing to slip between every single one of their cracks and sharpened edges that Twilight wasn’t sure where he began and they started. Wild’s heartbeat slowed against his own chest, subtly matching the tempo of his own heart as Twilight breathed in the scent of Wild still clinging to his arms. 

What didn’t they all share? Surely part of the same soul and fate, pieces of each other ripped apart and remade over and over as the goddesses had demanded every time. But, Twilight had felt each of their blood on his skin, had seen their subtle, scared smiles, heard the first bubbling of laughter that left their lips in the middle of hell. 

Twilight had to admit it to himself, maybe he had let them close without even realizing, perhaps he never had a choice in the matter. The urge to let go never once burned along his skin, and the realization slowly dawning over Twilight just made him hold onto Wild all the more tighter.

He didn’t want to let go.

He didn’t want to let go of Wild, he didn’t want to let go of any of them. 

The blackened pulse of gloom was still embedded itself into his shoulder, but Twilight couldn’t muster the same fear that had scratched at his nerves mercilessly only minutes before. Twilight felt his limbs slowly come back to themselves, the sun straining across the horizon casting a soft, golden glow over the two of them and the dissipating grim disappearing before Twilight’s eyes with every subtle wave of the river’s current. The world breathed around them as Wild sniffled softly into his neck, pulling back painfully slow until Twilight was welcomed by his slightly reddened eyes.

Twilight could only smile, the very sight of it bringing a watery smile to Wild’s own face that immediately made him laugh into the blissful quiet. The forest ruffled with the sound, the bubbling laughter reverberating softly until collapsing back to soft chuckles, the sound bringing an indulgent smile to Twilight’s face before he stood up. Twilight hardly had to think to extend his hand towards Wild, the action causing Wild to lapse back into silence as he stared at the hand.

Twilight waited, and waited even more, until the hesitant embrace of Wild’s scarred hand joined his own and Twilight effortlessly pulled him to his side.

“C’mon, I’m sure the others are starting to get worried, and it won’t be long until it’s dark. Are you ready to go?” Wild’s answering nod was all the answer that Twilight needed, starting the short trek back to the haphazard camp that awaited them.

“...Are you… are you going to show them?” Twilight felt more than saw how Wild glanced onto his still exposed shoulder, the tattered remains of his sleeve left abandoned somewhere within the riverbed.

“...Yes, we’re all fighting by each other’s side, have been all this time, what’s one more bump on the road?” A comforting smile contrasted against Wild’s own worried one, the expression sputtering out as Twilight knocked into Wild, laughter bubbling back up from his chest as Wild gave an irritated look before straightening with a huff. 

“Are you sure?” Twilight more than heard the hidden fear in Wild’s voice as he curled into himself at the indecision of the question, guilt once again curling in his eyes before Twilight gave an agreeable noise. 

“I’m sure, I promise that it’ll all be fine.” Twilight felt the truth entertain his words, along with a thousand different meanings and promises intertwined with it. “Even if it isn’t, just stay by my side. That’s all I ask of you.” Images of an empty desert and an endless void of grief stretched along the expanse of Twilight’s mind as he blinked, the words dripping with it a painful kind of sincerity and desperation that rang painfully loudly in his ears. 

The guilt fell from Wild’s eyes, instead being replaced with a kind of thoughtful contemplation at Twilight’s words as he fell silent. Ghosts haunted all of them, some more bittersweet than others, and Twilight knew with a bone-deep, terrifying certainty that Wild reflected the kind of understanding that scarily few knew, or felt. The kind of understanding that came from being ripped open and the world placed on your shoulders, only able to watch as everything you loved slipped away from you.

But you couldn’t flinch, or share the pain, as the hero never shoulders the responsibility with someone else, never voices their despair as they’re crushed alive.

Midna teased the edges of Twilight’s memory for a bittersweet moment, the faint image bringing with it an old ache of pain that was only softened as Wild gave a small, hesitant smile of his own after a moment. 

“Not going to ask for anything more? That’s it?” Wild’s smile took on a mischievous edge, the misery from earlier dissipating with every step until Wild kept up in time by Twilight’s side with a smirk that had Twilight giving a self-indulgent eye roll.

“I have to juggle you, Warriors, Time, and Sky. Trust me, I’m having to deal with more than plenty already, like Sky isn’t the absolute worst by himself-” The giggling of laughter is expected, but Twilight can’t help the wide smile that stretches over his face, drinking in the sound until it brings with a warmth that hums along with the skip of his steps. 

“Just stay, even as much of a menace as you are.”

“Really, that’s all?”

“That’s all I could ever ask of you, Wild.” 

[resident-idiot-simp]

(elaboration on this post)

When the late Logan was spotted again in the wild the mansion devolved into chaos. No one knew what to think until out of everyone Colossus had answers. He said this was a different Logan from a different universe and he was here now because (out of everyone it could have been) Deadpool brought him.

Deadpool, an insane merc who took damn near any job he could and enjoyed it. Why Colossus thought he was a friend or even somewhat worthy of being an X-Man was beyond them. 

They didn't pay much attention knowing Logan would find his way home like he always did. He really was like a stray cat. He comes back for food and shelter and to help when they really need it. It's nice even if they wished he'd stay longer.

The thing is he didn't come back to them, and no one knew what to do. Sightings kept happening and Logan was always with Deadpool, and no one knew what to think about it. Then THEN Colossus came back one day with a young lady who looked so much like Logan it hurt. She introduced herself as Laura Howlett and chaos reigned once again. 

She was so much like Logan, it hurt the same mannerisms, behavior, tendencies and lurking in the same places Logan once did. The first time they saw the claws, Jean almost cried.

Laura could be found with Yukio and Ellie the most and eventually Rogue once she got up the courage to talk to her. Laura didn't seem to like the other X-Men, and no one could figure out why. Rogue too had started distancing herself and it just made everything worse. 

Rogue started referring to herself as Laura's sister and the first time Storm heard it she had to leave. Scott asked her about Logan, and she had been dismissive just saying he was fine with Wade. 

Wade or Deadpool (why is it always Deadpool why did he have to be in the middle of all of this) the same Wade she talked about with a smile on her face and a laugh on her tongue. Wade who she told stories about and who she so obviously cared deeply about. Wade who she slipped up and called Pop once.

Scott wanted to be mad but couldn't bring himself to be. 

It all came to a head when shit went sideways, and they needed major backup. Laura had pulled out a phone and started speaking quickly. Not long later and out of seemingly nowhere Logan and Deadpool appeared with a few people in tow. Seeing Logan again in person even across a battlefield felt like a punch to the gut. 

Logan had made himself known with a roar as he tackled the creature that was about to strike Laura. Deadpool was right behind him covering his back. They proceeded to fight in such unison it was mesmerizing to watch. They anticipated each other perfectly covering where the other would leave open. 

It was a level of teamwork even the X-Men couldn't manage. Laura fell in with the three other strangers while the other two worked together and occasionally jumped in with Deadpool.

(continued on Ao3)

as I promised @twilightkitkat

ANOTHER ONE but with Laura

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online matchup 11

Summery: Jason said he was going to be out of town, but that doesn’t stop Red Hood from checking in once in a while. But there are more pressing matters Y/n is dealing with, and Y/n has live with what they learned and they’re not sure how to handle it.

Warning: fluff I think, swearing, reader is having a crisis anyways. So is Jason.

A/N: I’m trying to get my rhythm back after everything went to shit, so I am starting with a new chapter of this. Hope you like it, it’s the only thing I finished before everything happened with my mother-in-law. And don’t worry, I still plan on posting the other ficus I promised, I’m just trying not to overwhelm myself. Also, this was 100% inspired the new arc of Batman: Wayne Family Adventures on webtoon

Ao3

Master list

Taglist: @teapartydreams @adorabluesposts

——————

March 14

Roy

So

How goes it with Jason?

Y/n

Why?

Why do you have the need to keep my number?

Roy

Because one day we will meet, and we will have to be friends

Y/n

Because of Jason?

Roy

Because of Jason

But this way, we can get ahead of the game

And I don’t have to pretend to like you for I will already like you when that day comes

Y/n

You’re so weird

Roy

Yeah but aren’t we all a little weird in our own way?

Y/n

I guess

Roy

So?

Answer my question

Y/n

So demanding

Just ask Jason

He is your friend

Roy

Yeah, but he doesn’t like talking about personal things while working

Y/n

So you’re going to get information from me?

What makes you think I’ll answer?

Roy

I could always ask Conner

Y/n

Why would he know about my relationship?

Roy

He’s dating your sister

And he is friends with with Tim

Y/n

Damn

You’re right

Roy

Always am

Y/n

Mm, I don’t think so

But things with Jason is good

We’ve aired out our worries and continue to see each other regularly

Roy

Good

Y/n

Why’d that feel threatening?

Y/n

Your friend Roy is something else

Jason

What?

When the fuck did you meet Roy?

Y/n

Um

Technically I haven’t physically met him

But Conner made a group chat the other week and he was in it?

And now he has taken to texting me

It’s wild

Jason

This was not how I wanted the two of you to meet

Y/n

It is what it is

My mom always said I needed more friends

Jason

I doubt this is how she wanted that to happen

Y/n

It is what it is

Don’t be too mad

Jason

I’m not

You guys were bound to meet eventually

Just not like this

Y/n

Yeah but that’s okay

I kind of like Roy

Though sometimes it feels like he’s threatening me when he talks

But other then that he’s okay

Jason

Nice to know that you have other options in the dating world if this doesn’t work out

Y/n

Okay I wouldn’t go that far

He’s nice and all

But I’m not the type of person to go after my ex’s best friend

Jason

I’m just saying

Y/n

So am I

Jason

I mean, there’s always Red Hood you could go after

Y/n

I have many regrets

And telling you my crush on him is the biggest one

Jason

I think it’s cute

Y/n

I think it’s unattainable

Jason

Mm

Maybe, maybe not

Y/n

What’s that suppose to mean?

Jason

Nothing you need to worry about

Y/n

Okay, well now I’m worried

Jason

Mm, well that’s to bad

On an unrelated note,

I might be a little distant for a bit

Got stuff I need to work on

So our dinner date has to be on pause till I get back.

Y/n

We had a dinner date?

Jason

I love how that’s your takeaway from that

Y/n

Well I mean

I feel like that’s something I would remember

Jason

...

I didn’t ask you, did I?

Y/n

That seems to be the case

Jason

Well, I guess I’ll have to ask you when I get back

Y/n

What?

Booo

**

There’s a thump outside your window that has you looking up from your book. You freeze, waiting for something to happen. When nothing happens, you go back to your book.

Before you can focus on the words, you hear something from beyond your window. Head snapping to it, you narrow your eyes as if you could see through it.

When the sounds kept coming, so did your curiosity. Sighing, you set the book down and pushed your blankets as you got off the bed to investigate.

Drawing the curtains open, you come face to face with someone you thought you'd never see again. You blinked a few times to see if you were seeing things. But you weren't and it was Red Hood that sat on your fire escape.

Opening your window, you leaned out to see what he was doing better. He wasn't injured but he was heaving. Like he was running from something.

"Come here often?" you asked once your assessment was done. You watched in amusement as he jumped slightly, hand hovering over his holster as he turned around

“Why are you awake so late at night?" he asked instead. You shrugged and rested your chin on your hand.

"Wasn't tired," you answered, eyes straying down to the streets below when you heard shouts. "So, I thought you usually fight thugs. You don't seem to be the hiding type."

Red Hood shrugged and relaxed, leaning back on the wall. "Don't really feel like fighting tonight. Figured Batman can have this one.”

"I thought you hated him," you said, surprised.

"Love hate relationship I guess."

Silence fell as you watched the Gotham night bustle with life, enjoying the sounds. "You hungry or something?" you asked, and could see the hesitation when he realized that he'd have to remove the helmet. "I can turn my back if you’re more comfortable with that," you suggested. At his nod, you stood and beelined to the kitchen. Once the food was plated and warmed, you grabbed a water bottle and walked back.

"It isn't much, but at least it's something,” you said as you handed the food over. He granted and you turned around. Sitting on the floor back leaning against the window. You heard the click and hiss coming from behind. Though you were curious to see what his face looked like, you promised not to peak.

"So, do you feed everyone who stops on your fire escape or am I just special?" he asked around a mouthful of food. Your checks warmed and was very glad that he couldn't see.

"Only the ones I like,” you teased.

"That implies you have visitors," he pointed out.

"And if I do?”

"Then you should be worried." You snorted, hugging your knees to your chest.

"I'm on the sixth floor. I don't know who would come to my window.”

“Didn't stop me.”

"Guess you’re just special."

"So, should I be worried once your boyfriend gets home?" Red Hood asked when there was a lull in the conversation. You hummed and rested your chin on your knees

"I don't think so,” you answered, "I live alone."

"So no boyfriend? Or girlfriend?"

"No girlfriend," you confirmed, "I'm not sure if he's my boyfriend.”

Jason's heart leapt in his chest, and he rubbed his chest with nerves. "Sounds complicated."

"Not complicated,” you hummed, "I mean, I would like to call him my boyfriend but we've been talking and we've been on a couple of dates. But we haven't talked about what we are. Which is fine, I don't need a label to tell me how I feel about him."

"How do you feel about him?" he asked when you trailed off.

"I really really like him. And I trust him a lot too, and I could see myself falling in love with him. I just need to trust myself, you know? I'm just afraid to fuck it up with him. Like, I have his heart in my hands and I'm afraid l'Il break it. His been through so much and I don't want to be added on to list of how I fucked it up."

Jason's heart went out to you, and could understand where you were coming from. He is on the same boat as you.

"Sounds like this is a conversation you need to have with him," he said, voice a little rough. He cleared his throat and you nodded. "Not with some vigilante." You let out a wet laugh, and wiped your eyes when you realized you were crying.

“Yeah, guess you're right," you said. "Sorry for putting that all on you. You might have some relationship problems of your own."

"I wouldn't say that," he muttered, and you could hear movement from behind you. Once you heard the familiar click, you moved to sit on your knees and turned around, leaning your forearms on the window sill. "Thanks for the food.”

"Wasn't much but thanks for listening to a random cizitians worries.”

“It's what we do," he said, getting a genuine laugh from you and Jason smiled.

One of his favourite sounds and he'll never get tired of it. He gave you a two finger salute and ran down the stairs.

You stood up and watched as he disappeared. You bit your lip to keep from smiling and leaned out the window to grab the dishes. He was an interesting person, you had to admit

And if you meet him again well you wouldn't be opposed to that.

And meet him you did.

Three days later, you're in your room finishing some homework when you hear a thud outside your window. Setting your books aside, you crawl off your bed and towards your window. You opened your window with a smile. “One would think you're here to- holy shit! Are you okay?" you exclaimed when you saw his bleeding arm.

Red Hood looked up and you could feel the scowl behind his helmet. "Are you ever sleeping?"

"Do you ever not get hurt while being a hero?" you shot back. He bristled and nodded in satisfaction when he didn’t respond. “Are you okay though? That looks like it hurts.”

“Fine,” he grunted, “just a graze.”

“Just a graze,’ he says while bleeding,” you mocked, giving him a look. "You've been shot at, forgive me if I don't believe you.”

"Believe what you like. I don't care."

"Well someone's grumpy," you said and opened the way. “Come, let’s get that fixed before you bleed to death.”

“Are you always this sarcastic?" he asked, but didn't move. You stepped back and put your hands on your hips and raised an eyebrow.

"I don't bite," you answered, and quirked your lip. "Unless asked."

"I'll take that as a yes," he said with a laugh. Shaking his head, he ducked through the window with a groan. "You don't strike me as someone who invites people over,” he said, looking around the room as he followed you.

“I'm not, this is just repaying you for saving my life a couple of months ago." You gestured towards the chair as you went to the bathroom. "Have a seat. I'll be back.” After rummaging through your bathroom, you found the first aid kit and came back to find Red Hood sitting with his jacket off.

You pulled a chair closer to him, and set the kit down before opening it. "It’s going to sting a bit," you warned, and he only grunted. "Okay then," you said and started cleaning the bullet wound. "Good news, you don't need stitches."

"Bad news?" he asked and you startled, not expecting him to say anything.

"It might scar but I doubt it."

“What’s one more scar?” he questioned and you eyed him after you taped the gauze. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said, averting your gaze back to his arm. You rolled down his sleeve, only to give your hands something to do. “Hurt anywhere else?”

“Nah, that was the best of it,” he said and crossed his arms. “Are you a nurse or something?”

“Or something,” you answered. You’re unsure how you know, but you know that he’s giving you a flat look. “Engineer student,” you said with a little wave. “I happen to get injuries a lot, and instead of going to the doctors, I learned to treat myself properly. It’s come in handy a few times.”

“So you know how to do stitches?”

You shook your head and leaned back into the chair. “In theory, sure. But I’ve never had to do them. I’ve always gone to the doctors if I need them.”

“Guess I could be your practice dummy,” he mused and you leaned over slightly to poke his side.

“Don’t even think about it,” you said, poking him again. To which he slapped your hand away. “I’m not going to be responsible for scaring Red Hood even more.”

“I think if it came from you, I think I wouldn’t mind.”

Flushing, you turned away from him and sniffed. “Well regardless, this is a one time thing. Don’t expect it to happen again.”

Except it did.

Over the course of the week, Red Hood would come by unexpectedly. Whether to hide out from his partners, or in need of a nurse that he felt safe coming to you or simply to talk to someone.

And each night you sat in your room, waiting. It was never the same time but always early enough that you wouldn’t be going to sleep late. Despite your messed up sleep schedule, Red Hood was determined to fix it.

And every night, your feelings grew a little more. But you never acted on them, your heart belonged to Jason, even if you hadn’t realized it yet.

March 22

Y/n (10:20 am)

So you know that crush I have on red hood?

Ellie

The one that you squashed after falling for Jason?

Yes I remember

Y/n

It came back full force

I think I’m in love

Ellie

Y/n I swear

It’ll go away eventually

And how?

You’ve never met him

Y/n

I’ve met him twice

Ellie

The only time you’ll meet a hero or whatever is if one you’re a criminal or two you need help

And I doubt it’s the first one

Y/n

Hey!

I can be a criminal if I wanted too

Ellie

Yeah but your too nice and in love to be one

Y/n

Touché

Anyways, I’ve meet him and the second time we’ve talked

He’s nice

Ellie

You can not fall for people who are nice y/n

That’s how you get hurt

Y/n

What about Jason?

Ellie

I think he’s different

The both of you have been hurt too many times and you both know that

So you’re taking the time to get to know each othere

Y/n

When’d you get so wise?

Ellie

Someone had to when you moved out

Y/n

Listen here you little shit

Ellie

I’m listening

Y/n

Asshole

Ellie

You know what would be funny?

If Jason turned out to be Red Hood

Ha! You fell for the same dude twice

Y/n

Why would you say that?

ELLIE

WHY

WHY

WOULD

YOU

SAY

THAT

Ellie

It’s a JOKE

Y/n

IT'S NOT A VERY FUNNY ONE

IT'S LIKE SAYING CONNER IS SUPERBOY

Conner (1:30 pm)

WHY WOULD YOU TELL ELLIE IM SUPERBOY

Y/n

It was a JOKE

It’s not like you actually are

Conner

…

Y/n

ARE YOU ACTUALLY

Conner

NO

Y/n

Holy shit

It was suppose to be a joke

Conner

NOT A REALLY FUNNY ONE

Y/N

You don’t say

Conner

Why’d you even say it anyways?

Y/n

She started it

Telling me that Jason could be red hood

And that I fell for him twice

Which is insane

Conner

Absolutely insane

Doesn’t have a reason to be him anyways

I mean RH is mean and not really a hero, you know?

Who shoots at people and almost kills them?

That's not Jason at all

Jason’s sweet and caring and the total opposite of RH

Y/n

…

I’m telling Jason you think he’s sweet and caring

Conner

I can see why he likes you

You’re both the same

Y/n

Sweet and caring?

Conner

Go away

Y/n

Nah

Your dating my sister

Your stuck with me forever

Conner

Or until we break up

Y/n

True

But then you'll die :)

Conner

somehow, that smiley face makes it worst

Y/n

:)

You hated your sister. Like sure, you love her and any given time you wouldn't mind talking to her. But at this moment while you were pacing your room. You really hated your sister.

You know what would be funny? . If Jason turned out to be Red Hood. Ha! You fell for the same dude twice.

You couldn't stop thinking about her words, and your curiosity ran too deep for you to leave it alone. You opened your laptop ready to go snooping on Batman's computer but you stopped yourself and started pacing.

"If Jason wanted me to know, he’d tell me, right?" you asked out loud. "But then again, he wouldn't tell me because he isn't Red Hood." Turning, you walked back, hands moving in front of you.

"But then again, if he was him then he had good reasons for not telling me." Turn, walk. "But if it is him, does that mean the whole family's a hero family?" you questioned and groaned. "Oh! That would make sense. All those nights helping his brothers with something.”

Turn, walk. “It would be so embarrassing if he was. All the things I said to Red Hood about Jason. And vide versa,” you said in realization. You stopped walking and covered your face with your hands. “The conversation I should have had with Jason instead of Red Hood. Plus I told him I had a crush on Red Hood! Oh no!

“And if he is actually Red Hood, it would be an invasion of privacy if I look into it.”

You stared at your laptop as you chewed your lip in thought. "Fuck it," you said, and dived onto the bed. Moving your laptop to your lap, you began typing away praying that Batman doesn't notice your presence.

Once entering the back door you created, you began your search. It didn't take long to find what you were looking for and you spent the next twenty minutes reading everything Batman had on Red Hood

You closed your computer and fell back onto your bed, covered your face with your hands in defeat. Why? Why couldn't you leave well enough alone? Why did you have to let your curiosity run wild? And why did you have to listen to your sister? Questions you didn't know the answers to, and none were important. There was only one that needed an answer.

What are you going to do now that you know the truth?

You couldn't talk to anyone about it, and the one person you could, doesn’t know that you know.

Sitting back down, you opened your laptop with the intention of getting rid of the backdoor to Batman's computer. Just as you were deleting it, something caught your attention.

Still not knowing better, you followed it and covered your mouth in shock.

The Joker was out, and he was on the hunt.

Y/n (2:23 am)

I hope your doing okay

[fushiglow]

satosugu mailman au 💌

a very special delivery for @kymsys's birthday! how many days will it take for satoru to fall in love with his new mailman? let's find out!!

here's part one for my tumblr pals to enjoy! however, i'll be posting this work over quite a few days over on twitter/x, so please head over there if you want to follow along! if you don't have an account, i'll be uploading the entire thing to my ao3 when it's done — so don't fret ♥️ enjoy the fic!!

There were three things Gojō Satoru loved above all else: sweets, scale model kits, and sleep. He was a simple man in that sense — really, he asked for very little except a healthy supply of sugary treats, the occasional plastic mech, and an undisturbed lie-in seven days a week. So, when the shrill ring of his doorbell wrenched Satoru from a beautiful dream at exactly 8am on a Monday morning? Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased. Now, Satoru wasn’t an unreasonable person. He understood that the rest of the world started moving a little earlier than him — which is why Satoru had taken special measures to protect his precious rest without hindering anyone else. He’d chosen a job that allowed him to work from home, forgone the company of a housemate in favour of living alone, and — most importantly for a hobbyist like Satoru who ordered more kits, paints, and crafting tools than any one person needed — installed a secure parcel drop box outside his front door, preventing the need for anyone to pester him. That’s why Satoru didn’t bother getting out of bed after the first ring, assuming that the person who’d decided to disturb him would eventually figure it out for themselves. Perhaps they were a bit slow though — because less than thirty seconds later, the doorbell came screaming through the house again. Swearing into his pillow, Satoru pulled the duvet up to his ears. All he could do was hope they’d leave quickly so he could snatch at least some sleep in the 45 minutes left until his alarm went off. No such luck. Right when Satoru thought it was safe to relax, the doorbell started up again — and this time, it didn’t stop. With a stream of profanities falling from his lips, Satoru hauled himself out of bed, seeing red as he stomped down the stairs and marched across the hallway to the front door. He flung it open with a frustrated snarl, preparing to share some choice words with the impatient piece of shit on the other side — only for his insults to die on his tongue at the sight of the man standing before him. The broadest shoulders he’d ever laid eyes on; thick arms, tanned and toned; a muscular torso tapering down to a tiny waist — and all packaged in a uniform, for god’s sake. When Satoru finally managed to lift his jaw off the floor, he looked up at the man’s face and the damn thing unhinged from his skull all over again. He was all sharp cheekbones and sunkissed skin and the sweetest smile Satoru had ever seen. Perhaps a little too sweet now that he really looked at it. ‘I think your doorbell is broken.’

Sure, the guy was hot — easily the prettiest person Satoru had ever seen — but that didn’t stop his eye from twitching at the blatant passive aggression masked behind that sickly sweet smile. Satoru matched it with one of his own. ‘I assure you, it’s not.’ ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ Satoru didn't think he seemed sorry in the slightest — even if his voice did sound like melted chocolate. ‘I’ve got a parcel for Gojō Satoru?’ When hot mailman tilted his head to the right, a lock of glossy black hair fell into his face. Too short to secure in his bun and too short to tuck behind his ear, he simply brushed it away from warm eyes the colour of honey. Satoru wondered if every part of him was as gorgeous. ‘It needs a signature.’ Shocked out of his stupor, Satoru's gaze travelled to the box at the right of the door. ’The regular guy always puts them in there.’ Hot mailman simply beamed at him. ‘Do I look like the regular guy to you?’ No, Satoru thought. There’s nothing regular about you. As though he could read minds, hot mailman winked at him. ‘Then I’ll need a signature, please.’ And god — he was so effortlessly charming that, for the first time in his life, Satoru found himself speechless. For a long moment, he simply stood there, gawping like an idiot. When hot mailman eventually quirked an amused eyebrow in his direction, Satoru had no choice but to take the signature pad being waved at him, managing to make a hash of his name before wordlessly handing it back. Having completely and utterly embarrassed himself, Satoru had started to retreat into the safety of his home when a strong hand closed around the edge of the door. Hot mailman popped his head around the side. ‘You forgot your parcel.’ Satoru watched those amber eyes as they slid down the length of his body — and hot mailman's sickly sweet smile morphed into a devilish grin. ‘Your clothes, too.’ Glancing down at himself, Satoru’s heart stopped in his chest when he realised he’d answered the door in nothing but his boxers — and not fitted Calvin Kleins that emphasised what he was working with either. No, the ratty, stretched out Digimon boxers he’d owned since he was 17. With a mortified squeak, Satoru snatched the parcel from hot mailman’s hands and slammed the door in his face, uncaring of whether his stupid bangs got caught in the doorframe. Tossing the package onto the floor, Satoru brought his palms to his rapidly heating cheeks, taking a moment to stare into the silence of his hallway. Then, he summoned all the air in his lungs and let out the single loudest ‘fuck!’ he’d ever produced. Hot mailman’s beautiful laughter travelled down the entire length of the driveway.

[chaotic-iguana]

Refuge | prologue

estranged husband joel miller x f! reader, reunited post-outbreak

wordcount: 0.4k

summary: what if reader and joel were married before the outbreak? what if just another mundanely late night at the office on the night of the outbreak separated them for a decade?

series warnings: angst, swearing, anxiety, fear, survivor’s guilt, rough marriage, reconciliation, complicated feelings and eventual smut. there will be dark themes. as always mdni.

series masterlist | next chapter | general masterlist

Naïvety is often the tragedy of youth. You were denied both. Years of suffering and loss gave way to Jackson, which quickly damned you rather than offering the salvation that it promised. The feeling that you were drowning, the need to look over your shoulder, never really left. Not until he came back into your life.

The day had been long enough already. The walls were closing in on you, familiar shadows tinting the edges of your vision. You ignored them, attempting to half-successfully distract yourself by shelving your books, pretentiously lingering on whether to reorganize them alphabetically or by genre. No one gives a shit. You could hear a crowd outside, but you couldn’t find it in you to join them, to see what was causing the rumbling chattering growing louder by the second. Curling your trembling fingers into fists, you waited for it to pass. Back when it mattered, you would have called this a panic attack. The way air slipped from the grasp of your gulped breaths, the tingling in your hands and feet - the crushing weight of something sitting on your chest.

The door to your shop was abruptly thrown open, Fred running in, panting. What the fuck is he doing? 

��Tommy and his men were at the power plant and Maria spotted someone - he’s even got a little girl with him. Jackson’s getting two new residents, we think. Come welcome them with us.”

Sinking your teeth into your lip to keep from scoffing, you turned your back to him to continue sorting your books. 

He’d been getting too familiar lately, mistaking a few instances of forced proximity thanks to the patrol schedule as a friendship - one that apparently justified him putting his hand on your waist, and leering at you, too. In post-apocalyptic times, mild creepiness is hardly the most heinous sin one can commit, so you let it go. But you drew the line at this. At the bullshit in his voice, at the sheer audacity in his tone.

“Get the fuck out. Do I look like I want to join a stupid welcome party? And why on earth was this groundbreaking enough for you to need to sprint here?”

You watched his face fall and harden at your biting words, his jaw flexing and eyes narrowing until he just looked cruel. 

“It’s Tommy’s brother. He’s here.” 

A beat of silence passed, and suddenly you felt your knees buckle, vision going black…

masterlist

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore,@millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio , @pedrosaidsheispunk , @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk , @bastardmandennis, @breakfastatjoels, @evyiione dividers by @reveriesources designs by me!

A/N: starting my first ever proper series. im super excited!!!

[r0t-t1ngxeyy]

Tw: Loli/shotacon, proship, Levi x Luke, Dark romance/abuse/kidnapping, NSFW!!! and

the Lollipop joke..

Im not letting anyone in this fandom forget those two obey me fanfics on ao3 from like 2?? Years ago. Please tell me I'm not the only one who remembers them?? It was such a big thing for the fandom, Im so glad I read them before they got deleted because the memory is soo FUNNY HELP ?? I need opinions on these two fics, if anyone actually remembers them:(

Dia x Luci : The Red Means I love you

ABSOLUTELY TRAUMATIZING SHIT BRO WHAT IN THE DARK ROMANCE?? wouldn't even call that romance it was such a hard read. Stumbling across videos of it made on tiktok was probably the worst event that I experienced 👽 ON MY MOTHER THE SCENES WERE SO UNNECESSARY (but the adrenaline rush was pretty good ngl)

I read through that with my heart dropping with each new chapter bro?? I couldn't even read through the entire story. I'm pretty sure it's deleted now cus I've been searching for it to make a whole OM fandom lore post but heyy

To sum it up for the people who were fortunate enough to not read it;

Diavolo kidnaps Lucifer, and keeps him in some cage/almost prison cell area. I think he's chained up to the ceiling, I'm not so sure. It starts off with Dia being nice I think, trying to gain Lucifers trust and eventually have him submit but that shit doesn't work and all of hell releases. Lucifer endures some physical and sexual abuse and attempts to escape. But before he successfully escapes,he bumps into Barbatos who offers to help him

He does not help him. Infact, he locks him back up and informs Diavolo.

What the fuck

The most notable things I believe Dia did was clip lucifer's wings?? And pulled out his teeth (i think Barbatos actually did that I'm not so sure). But I can't really explain how gruesome and detailed the writing was. What's worse is that it also included how the brothers were reacting to Lucifer just disappearing. Very interesting fic, story wise it was fine and well written. It's just the plot in general was what the actual fuck??

LEVI X LUKE : i forgor the title and I'm very relieved that I did

VERY UNCOMFORTABLE READ BTW!! i hated summing this up so much

An absolute wreck, these fanfics were so well written I can't even hate the authors for what they did (the Dia x Luci one didn't deserve any hate imo, but this one?? Holy fucking shit??) This fic was so out of pocket, it ruined the way I saw Levi for a good while.

P.s!! Not the same author!!

WHAT I RECALL!!! aka summary?? Kinda...

So I think Simeon called Levi to look after Luke? Which is really fucking weird because Luke is an angel, sure he's depicted as a kid but if Micheal chose him to follow Simeon down to the Devildom for the exchange program then I'm pretty damn sure he can at least take care of himself without adult Supervision, but whatever. Nice plot, I hate it

Levi was totally against the babysitting thing and actually disliked having to look after Luke

Until

At some point, Luke wants to take a bath and Levi's like suree okay.

THEN ACCOMPANIES HIM TO GIVE HIM THE SAID BATH??? Obviously that's where this all downplays from what could've potentially been a found family fic to some proship shotacon fic. Levi gives him the bath and Luke gets

turned on... (I hate typing this out so much)

So, Levi gives him head. I fucking hate this with burning passion :(((

His mouth 'pops' when he stops which reminds him of a Lollipop!! And I quote this from memory:

Kinda like a Lollipop. Heh.. Loli.

I hate this fanfic so much, I don't claim it in this fandom,its a fic not a fanfic👽👽👽

And yeah, the rest of the story went on with Levi doing that bullshit!!! I don't think I read through the entire thing because curious kills the cat. I just saw some tiktok post about it and decided hey!! Im gonna look for it and read it.

I would've been fine without reading this fic, ever, i would've turned out the same as I am today LMAOO

[its-in-the-woods]

Chapter six (Final for now), Life's Too Short

Chapter one , two, three, four, five, <- if you missed it.

Cooper howard/The Ghoul x Lucy Maclean

Post end of season 1

No beta.. I tried to edit 🫠

Leaving it here from now.

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

This is fluffy and a lot of smut. Biting, riding, finger fucking, leaving marks, screaming.. it goes on. V and P. Deviates from canon clearly.

🚨+18 only - MDN🚨

Slow burn is over!

Please be nice this is my first fic in almost a decade 🫣

Will eventually post on AO3 once I can get access... or where suggested 🤷🏻‍♂️ Like please tell me I am old and don't know things anymore.

Getting out of the Deathclaw’s territory proved to be tricky. Particularly with a Brahma, the beast was not really happy about being dragged along. There was also the Deathclaw’s head strapped to it. Making sure it got water and something sort of like food was difficult. It made the traveling slow.  By the time they got to the next outpost, Lucy was out of water and Cooper was dangerously low on chems. They had gotten a lot of looks as they walked through the big pieced-together gates. Most went back to whatever they were doing. But some stared. Lucy made sure to keep herself close to the Ghoul. They hadn’t really discussed anything since the warehouse, much too busy trying not to die. But something had changed, the leather-cladded man didn’t scoff when she ran into him. Didn’t mind when she snuggled up to keep warm overnight. The idea of a bed and not being hunted by giant damn monsters sounded amazing. 

The head of the Deathclaw that Lucy had blown up hit the front desk of the outpost hotel. Well if you could call the two-story pieced together building that. The small man looked at the head for a moment, then back at the two of them. 

“I am guessing you want a room?” He raised his eyebrows at the two, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. 

Cooper also grabbed a paper from beside the hotel manager's head and slammed it down beside the head. “Also take the caps for its bounty, and where we could offload a Brahma.”

“Well,” The man looked up over his glasses at Cooper. “The bounty is for the full body of the Deathclaw, and the beast can go to the farm east of the town.”

Cooper leaned closer to the little man. “Want me to ‘ive yah directions to the thing? Or should I walk yah over to the corpse ‘yself?” 

The man had tried to lean away from the Ghoul but he had followed him. Making sure his face was within the inches of the man. Lucy bit her lip, something about watching him take charge did-. Well, it made things get hotter in the room. 

The man stammered, “Let me get my manager and we will sort your caps.” 

Cooper stood up and gestured dismissively at the small man, as he scuttled away. Coop leaned against the desk as Lucy watched the door hand on her pistol. The man came back looking flustered and plopped the bag of caps onto the desk along with the room key. Cooper snatched it up, tipping his hat at the man. 

They walked back into the town, Lucy bartered some of her bits and bobs with a merchant getting herself some radaway and a few stimpaks. As well as some better-fitting clothes, and a new poncho. Then she and the Ghoul walked a little ways outside the camp to trade the Brahma. The farm had looked a little flustered but offered to give them a good supply of dried foods and moonshine. They didn’t want to owe Ghoul but a Brahma was something sorely needed. Cooper had accepted the offer as he was not interested in hauling the animal around. 

Then they were back in town with all the eyes on them. Cooper had disappeared into a particularly shady spot. Dogmeat standing guard in the dingy alley. She made sure to keep her wits about her. The place wasn’t bustling but it wasn’t quiet either. Women sneered at her muttering about Ghoulfuckers. It made her stomach flip again. Was it that obvious? After being on the road for weeks, being beaten to shit by various creatures. She figured she’d had to have started to blend in a little. She looked around again. A couple more men had walked out to look at her. She moved closer to the alleyway entrance, her finger on the pistol. 

“Come on Coop, get the chems.” She muttered her hands mindlessly running over Dogmeats soft fur. 

The longer she stood out there the more people she saw looking at her. She licked her lips, they had become permanently chapped at this point. Maybe they'd be callous over time, like the rest of her. The wounds in her back and thigh still ached. The mark on her shoulder had healed, for the most part, but it still aches if she overused it. A hand touched her hip. She jumped hands on her pistol as she turned Cooper’s crooked grin greeting her. Her shoulders sagged as she leaned against him. 

“Come on Vualtie, let's go see what accommodations we got.” He guided her back toward the hotel.

***

Coop locked the door behind them as they got into the room. It was more of a closet with a somewhat functional toilet and standing shower. But at least they weren’t hiding from any deathclaws tonight. Maybe some pissed-off townsfolk but they’d take that as they came. Right now his eyes were on her. He had gotten a nice stash of Chems from the backdoor pharmacy, they had water and some decent food. As far as wastelanding went they were better off than most. Dogmeat had already settled into the bathroom closest to the door. 

Lucy had placed all their weapons within reach and laid out some food. She had even drunk a good slurp of water, and they could get more too. 

“What do you feel like? They said this was mole jerky, but I don’t know how reputable the vendor was. Plus I haven’t seen a mole that wasn’t glowing in a long time.” Lucy rambled, waving the offending jerky in the air. 

“Not really feeling like eatin’ food,” Cooper stated licking his lips. 

Lucy turned her brows furrowed, she looked up at him. “Oh. Well.” She looked back down at the food and then back up at him. He could see her piecing it together. 

“Oh. Oh. Do you mean?” Lucy blushed and looked down at her feet. 

“Don’t get bashful on me, killer. You nearly blew me up with a grenade and dragged me across the desert barefoot. Stripped me down to my unmentionable and pulled out a damn piece of bone out of my chest. You don’t get to play coy with me anymore.” He stated plainly as he walked towards her, his hand tilting her chin up so he could look at those big doe eyes. 

Lucy licked her lips looking up at him. He didn’t know what she saw in him but whatever it was had her melting in his leathery hands. 

He couldn’t fuckin take it anymore his free hand grabbed at her hips pulling her into him. His mouth clashed against hers as he kissed her. Not gentle like the first time, or even the second time. No, this was hungry. The months of being together, watching her move and change. Her lying on the floor of that fuckin warehouse. No, not anymore. He wanted her and he wanted her now. He wanted her more than he had wanted anyone in two centuries. 

She started pulling at his duster fingers, shaking as she pushed the leather off of him. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and dragged it up off of her. She untucked his shirt and pulled it up over his head. Hat falling onto the ground behind them. Lucy giggled and snatched the hat placing it onto her head, before leaning back into kissing him. She pushed him down onto the mattress sliding herself onto his lap. He groaned as she ground her hips down onto his crotch. He grabbed her hips rocking up against her, eyes rolling back in her head as she felt him press. 

He grabbed one of her breasts in his hand rubbing against the smooth flesh there, fingertips rolling nipples that had Lucy biting her hand trying not to cry out. Cooper batted her hand away. 

“No, no, I want everyone to hear you.” He hissed, pulling her down so he could bite at the top of her breast. 

A small cry squeaked out as he left an indent on her skin. She ran her hands over his head holding it against her skin. He rolled her so he was on top, leaving a trail of fresh bite marks that had the Vaultie rolling underneath him.

His hands trailing along the edge of her pants, she tried to wiggle free of her pants but he held her firm. Licking and kissing along the top edge. Tomorrow if her shirt rode up everyone would see the marks. He wanted them to see the marks. To know that her screams came from him. He bit hard right below her navel and she bucked 

“Oh, Oh, dang it that hurt.” Lucy groaned and pushed his head down. 

“Come on darlin’ tell me whatcha want.” Ghoul grabbed at the edge of her pants pulling them slowly down.

“Just-” Her voice cracked.

“Come on. Say it.” He growled, pulling them a little further down. Her hips moving and wiggling trying to get him to take them off.

“I want you to lick me.” She swallowed looking down at him eyes so dark 

The man grinned, yanking her pants down. Leaving her underwear on, he pushes his shoulder in between her knees pressing his face against her. Breathing her in, she smells so good. 

Lucy lets out gasp her knees pushing against the side of his head as her ankles lock behind his head. His tongue flicked out to go over the thin fabric. 

“Come on, tell me. Tell me what you want me to do.” 

Lucy let out a few strangled sounds as her hands grasped for purchase. He sucked at the wetness coming out through the underwear. 

“Say it.” 

“Ohmy, if you-” She choked again as he kept sucking. “Please- ughn- I want to feel your tongue in me please.” 

“Good girl,” He grinned using a finger to push the thin fabric aside he leaned in and ran his tongue along her. She tasted so good, he groaned and sucked on her lips. Before sliding his tongue down using his fingers to separate her folds, she was dripping as licked in there. Her fingers gripped the sides of his head, as her back arched up pushing him forward. He moved his hands under her ass, lifting her hips towards his face. 

“Oh, don’t stop.” She trembled her body, vibrating as he licked inside of her. 

He pulled his head away licking at his tattered lips and sitting back to admire her. Lucy’s legs trembled as he pulled her underwear off, leaning in to nip at her thighs. She cried out as he left a line of marks up where her thigh and hips met. 

Lucy pushed herself up, staring at him, her eyes lidded, lips red and swollen. “If you don’t-”

“Don’t what?” Cooper hummed, taking his fingers to run up and down between her lips.

Her eyes rolled and she shuttered,” Torturing me,” Her words were stuttered and hardy formed as a finger sunk into the wetness. 

“Not torturing you,” He hushed, “No gulper bait here.”

She gasped as he pushed back and up, hitting a soft spongy spot that made her toes clench.

“Motherfucker,” Lucy gasped as her hips started to push down onto his finger.

The Ghoul leaned forward sucking at her clit as he pushed another finger in slowly. Purposefully dragging it out, making her keen and grabbed at the bed as he scissored and edged her. He watched her for a moment more before he began to a steady pace the wet sounds filling the tiny room. Her hips rolling with him, insides sucking him further in and squeezing tightly.

“That’s it, let it go.” He murmured licking and sucking against her clit. 

Her legs began to shake as her fluids gushed forward as his fingers kept going until she was trying to push him away. 

—

Lucy was a puddle, and there was actually a puddle under her ass at the moment. The damn man between her legs was going to kill her. Nothing in her very small sexual history had felt like that.

Cooper rested his bald head against her thigh as he lazily made circles around the bruises. Then he was moving before she had time to recuperate, his pants clattering to the floor as he snatched that hat off her head. 

“Think this belongs to me, little lady.” He grinned down at her, gold eyes almost black as he pushed his hips forward against her. 

Reaching up she pulled him down on top of her, she was so overstimulated but the hard line of his cock against her was making her want more.  Damnit if she didn’t want it right now. She rolled her hips up and kissed along his jaw. She could taste herself on him, they tasted so good together. 

“Fuck me,” She whispered into his ear taking the lob into her mouth, her hand found away between them fingers running over his hard length. 

“Come again,” He grinned and sucked at a new mark along her neck. 

Her toes curled as she stroked him, fingers pushing at the slit on top making his hips stuttered forward. 

“Fuck me, Cooper,” She said into his ear as her hand tried to get him where she wanted him to be.

He leaned back looking down at her like he had never seen her before, as if he was trying to memorize her features. Then he pushed his way in, and both their mouths opened slightly. The girth made her inside ache as he seated himself as deep as he could go. They stretched a hot fire that made her inside shiver. 

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.” He groaned and began to pull out, Lucy immediately wrapped her legs around his hips trying to get him pushed back in. 

“Nuh-uh,” He grinned as he grabbed her legs and bent her in half. He slid back out and then slammed himself back in making Lucy see stars as he bottomed out. “I am in control here.”

Each word was punctuated with a snap of his hips, Lucy felt like her brain had gone foggy, her mouth hanging open as she pushed back against him. His pace started to increase as he held onto her hips bouncing off of her hips, her breast bouncing. She let her fingers grab at her nipples pulling at them, how was she so close already? Heat spills into her stomach as another orgasm builds up again. 

“I am gonna-” 

He pulled himself out, making her scrambled to try and get him back. The Ghoul placed one large hand on her stomach holding Lucy in place. Cooper grinned from under his hat the tip of his penis sitting right at the entrance. 

“Told you, Princess. I am in control.” 

Lucy growled fighting herself up from under him rolling so that she was on top of him. She grabbed his cock without a second thought and pushed it back in. 

“Oh, oh yes,” Lucy groaned, tipping her head back as she started to move her hips in circles. His hands grabbing at her breast, squeezing, started to move his hips up against her. She tucked her legs a little, hands on his scared stomach pushing herself up and ridding him as he fucked her. 

The heat built as the man’s fingers rubbed at her clit. There was no stopping it now heat uncoiling as her hips moved wet making his dick slip in and out with slick wet sounds. Lucy’s voice came in as she called out his name, her second orgasm making her tremble and bite her lip hard enough that she felt blood. 

Cooper took the opportunity to roll them again, one hand grabbing both of hers and pinning her to the bed. He bit onto her collarbone hard enough to make her wonder if he was going to take a chunk out of her. His hips snapped so quickly as his other hand held her hips close, his eyes rolling close as his own pleasure slipped deep into her. Hips stuttered from overstimulation in jerky motions till he stilled. The Ghoul let go of his bite, a deep mark blooming, his head resting over her pounding heart. His tongue licked out over his lips.

Then he was up, Lucy groaned. Trying to get him to come back, she watched as he walked over to his saddle bag. Muscled body moving swiftly as it dug around for something. She sighed staring up at the ceiling. Her body hurt in many different ways. The marks would be visible for days. Lucy’s fingers came up and felt at the one on her collarbone, clear indents where his teeth had sunk in. Her face flushed realizing that everyone would be able to see that.

The bed dipped and Cooper handed her a bottle, the label was barely readable ‘Rad-x’. Reaching across he also grabbed the flask with water.

“Take two,” He said firmly before getting up again despite her small whines of annoyance. 

She looked the bottle over and uncapped it, taking out two of the pills. They smelled awful, not nearly as awful as some of the bugs she’d eaten. She popped both in and swallowed, they burnt a little but it could have been worse. Sighing she stared at the ceiling, it was stained. Lucy rubbed her face as Cooper came back in with a towel. 

His hand grabbed her ankle and he dragged her to the edge of the bed. She squeaked as he spread her legs and started to clean her. Biting her lip she watched as he carefully wiped her down. Leaning in to kiss the bruises before he tossed the rag into a corner. 

“Thank you,” She giggled, reaching for him, he climbed in dragging her to his chest.

“Anything for you. Life's too short."

I may come back to this, I haven't decided yet. But I like it where it is fo now.  

Let me know! Thanks for reading. More to come <3

[kalinara]

There is no position that gives me a headache more than anti-anti fans.

Look, I get that "anti-fandoms" are annoying.

It is ANNOYING to post things about ships and characters and have people make assumptions about you based on your feelings about fictional characters.

I've had it happen to me. Hilariously, it wasn't even about one of my actual problematic ships, but because I had a "meh" reaction to the idea of pairing characters from the Umbrella Academy of all things.

But, I'll disclaim right now, I have plenty of ships that an "anti" could confront me about. There's a reason I don't always stay logged in when I peruse AO3. No one needs to review my fic reading history, including me.

So yeah, I get that it's annoying. And some folks take it too far. There's no excuse for threats or insults. Personally, I don't think this behavior is limited to antis, but as mentioned, I've seen some do it.

But I will always have a knee jerk disgust toward people who act like the very act of criticizing a ship or the reception of a character is the same damn thing.

There's some Bat-shipping post going around that equates people being disgusted by Bat-shipping to homophobia and real world oppression. And no, sorry. That's not the same thing.

I think you can definitely make the argument that moral panic can lead to some terrible decisions, particularly legislatively. Frederic Wortham decided that Batman and Robin were in a pedophiliac relationship, after all, and eventually we all got saddled with the comic code.

But, you know, we can still point out that IF Batman and Robin were in a relationship, while Robin was canonically 12 years old, in a comic book intended for children, that would have been categorically NOT OKAY.

Fans love to try to sidestep any criticism by equating their critics with some kind of censorship boogeyman. As though the average fandom critic has any kind of ability to legislate a form of media. Heck, disgusted fans can't even get AO3 to set limits on blatant extreme underage shit.*

(* Disclaimer: I respect AO3's very consistent position on content bans and censorship. I may not personally agree with every decision that they make, but I respect that it's their right to make it. My point is that the average "anti" has no real influence or power here.)

Here's the thing. If you ship something gross. More power to you. I do too. But you also have to deal with the fact that someone out there is going to say "Hey, that's gross." They may not be talking to you directly. Common fandom etiquette means that they probably shouldn't (unless you're invading the anti-tags, in which case, you're asking for it). But they're allowed to have opinions and say them. Free speech works both ways.

The older I get, the more protective I find myself of the right of people to be negative about things. "Don't yuck someone's yum?" I can yuck if I damn well want. I just need to remember that it's not your problem.

My own position is that fandom goes too far to protect the enjoyment of their largest groups, to the point where anything that could possibly cast a pall on said enjoyment is quickly shushed. We can't point out that a ship involves abusive tropes, because this is fiction. We can't grimace at the thought of an incestuous relationship, because that's judgmental. We can't point out hopefully-unconscious examples of racism and sexism because that would make someone feel bad and discourage them from writing.

I still remember how slash fanfic writers started bemoaning about how they can't possibly write FinnPoe anymore because they keep getting called out for racist tropes. The idea of actually making an effort to IMPROVE somehow never seemed to make it into the discussion.

Here's the thing. If I don't like a pairing, I'm going to say so. If I don't like a character (or maybe more accurately, fandom's treatment of said character), I'm going to say so. If I don't like a trope, for whatever reason, I'm going to say so. It's not my job to muzzle my own opinions to make random people on the internet feel better about how they get their rocks off. Why do you care what I think anyway?

Again, harassment's bad. But I think a lot of "anti-antis" are quick to equate "having a negative opinion that makes me feel bad" with an attack. Not the same thing and we all might be a lot happier if we kept that in mind.

[obsessedtomone]

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 6 - The Exposé▸Shigaraki x femReader

Chapter Summary:

◤“Are you serious right now? Me being scared shitless means I’m into him? Did you hit your head on the way here?” you ask, starting to feel actually annoyed.

“But it’s not just that and you know it!” They smack your arm, beautiful eyes boring into yours and peering at your soul. 

Of course it isn’t just that, but you’d never admit you feel anything for this fucked-up asshole to anyone, let alone your own damn self. ◢ Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five • Six • Seven

Chapter 6 - The Exposé

All the noise, the chatter, the people—they drown out the silence as you sit like a loser in the corner of the busy shop, waiting. 

With your leg bouncing—one of your many nervous tics—you cast an anxious look around you, unable to shake the feeling that everyone is watching you, even off campus. You’re hiding behind the safety of your hood, blankly seeing people going about their day, while you were waiting for Taylor to show.

“Girl, if we’re going to discuss fucked-up shit again, I really need something to sweeten it up” is what they told you over the phone, after your little mental breakdown in the hallway. 

So they picked their favorite—and unfortunately a really fucking popular—bubble tea store in the area, for the both of you to have a talk in. 

You’re torn between periodically checking your watch, your phone, or your surroundings, visibly on edge as you alternate doing so.

Conjuring whatever your therapist—or reddit post—told you to do when you’re having a huge panic attack and you’re not home, you begin taking deep breaths. You focus on the things around you first, the different smells, the people. The wallpaper that's slightly torn, in the corner where you’re sitting. 

You look around, try your goddamn best, and unsurprisingly—it doesn’t fucking work.

It doesn’t, because save for your three different types of anxiety medication you take every day, nothing fucking works. You stopped taking heavy meds after you figured the worst of everything had passed, after life finally became somewhat stable, somewhat bearable.

 So instead, you ride that nauseating wave of anxiety pulsating within you, and wait as patiently as you fucking can for it to just stop.

Shigaraki managed to do a number on you today, because you made sure you took off as soon as he’d left, not having the stomach to bump into more horny, borderline assailant creepy jocks anymore. 

It was more than enough that your phone was blowing up with an incredibly stupid amount of assholes, messaging you, harassing you at regular intervals, and sending you enough dick pics to last you a lifetime. All in the span of a single fucking day.

You wanted to turn your phone off, but unfortunately, it was also the only way to contact Taylor outside the comfort of your PC, so you ended up just muting it, turning the notifications off and sucking it the fuck up until you got home today.

Your friend still had classes that they were eager to skip, in order to hurry and meet with you, but you managed to convince them to stay by compromising—hence your sitting down in an overrated bubble tea store, right in the middle of a crisis.

With a sigh, you sip on your plain black coffee, scrolling through social media and passing as much time as you can before you even have to think about dealing with him. Luckily, it didn’t take more than an hour, and the movement you see from the corner of your eye is a familiar one. 

Taylor is dressed up in a slutty black mesh crop-top and a high-waisted pair of black leggings. A few flashy accessories and a pair of sunglasses sitting snug on top of their head, are complementing their skimpy club outfit nicely.

“You do realize winter starts in like a month, slut?” you ask, a knowing smile playing on your lips, pure relief coating your gaze at the sight of them before you. 

You’re not alone, you’re not alone, you’re not alone.

Not this time.

“Oh yeah? Well how about—you shut the fuck up? It’s fucking winter all year ‘round for you, bitch!” They smile back at you, but a thought seems to cross their mind and their expression slips back into one of concern. “Are you doing okay, babe?”

“I’ll manage. Do you wanna order now, or?”

“It’s fiiine, I can always steal from yours and order later.” They wink at you, yoinking your drink before your very eyes, and you watch in horror as a major crime is about to unfold, right in front of you.

“Hold! Dude, it’s—”

“Eeww! Gross! How can you even drink this shit?!” Your friend basically throws the drink back at you, splashing some on the table and immediately getting back up to order. 

You look at them through half-lidded eyes and speak in a bored tone, “If you would’ve asked first, I could have told you what it was.”

Taylor shows you the bird, mouths a ‘fuck yourself’ and makes their way to the counter to order. “Aaand we don’t know what he’s talking about? Like, at all?” they say, sipping on their milk caramel white tea diabetes and asks you.

“Nooo fucking clue. He kept talking like a goddamn psycho about this ‘pReSeNT’—” you reply, doing air quotes and mocking his stupid fucking voice, “—he’s got for me. I don’t know where, or what it is. Half expecting to find a dead body in front of my place today, tbh.”

“Hmm, guess we’ll have to wait and find out. Sucks, but there’s not much we can do, babe.”

Then, your friend starts eyeing you curiously, seemingly weighing something in their mind. You roll your eyes. 

“Shoot. You’re not done.”

As if possessed, Taylor instantly lights up and throws a series of incredibly inadequate questions at you.

“Okay, okay, so—what did he smell like? Everyone says he looks like he doesn’t shower, and wears the same clothes all the time! Is it true? I’ve only seen him from a distance. And, and, oh! Do you think he’s interested in you? There’s no way he’s not, right? I mean he was fucking with you, but I’ve never heard of him interacting with anyone like that—getting all close and personaaal, pinning them to the freaking wall! Two times?! C’mon!” They go off, giggling, as if Shigaraki was truly just a misunderstood guy, a hopeless romantic, and not a rich psychopath who gets off on breaking people's bones and making girls cry.

If your friend notices the blatant shock on your face, they don’t react to it.

“So, I have a theory, okaaay? I think… that he kind of likes you? I mean I heard he’s beaten the shit out of female students before, for literally less than the shit you pulled, so he’s definitely cutting you slack. Oh, right! How come you didn’t pepper spray his ass? You never hesitated before.” A snicker escapes them when they can’t help but imagine it. “Bet it would’ve been so fucking funny to blind Shigaraki Tomura! He’d literally fucking kill you. Gasp! Do you think he’d screech?!”

You sigh, shaking your head and looking out of the window. “I fucking can’t with you.”

“Well?” They cast an expectant glance in your direction, waiting for you to respond until a frustrated exhale escapes your lips.

“Fuck, okay. You’re lucky I’m short on friends,” you say, as if you had any friends at all, and your gaze turns into a playfully irritated one, making them wiggle their perfectly-shaped tattooed eyebrows at you. “First of all, you have to stop humanizing him. He’s literally just a psycho.”

“A psycho you’re into,” they shamelessly add, batting their fake eyelashes innocently. You blink at them, taken aback by their audacity. “C’moon, all these years I’ve known you and this guy is the first who’s doing a number on you? Just look at you! You’re not acting like yourself! Be fucking for real, girl.”

“Are you serious right now? Me being scared shitless means I’m into him? Did you hit your head on the way here?” you ask, starting to feel actually annoyed.

“But it’s not just that and you know it!” They smack your arm, beautiful eyes boring into yours and peering at your soul. 

Of course it isn’t just that, but you’d never admit you feel anything for this fucked-up asshole to anyone, let alone your own damn self.

“Listen, you can lie to yourself as much as you want, babe, but I’ve been around for way too fucking long for you to be able to hide that shit from me. Just sayin’.”

You roll your eyes and click your tongue.

“Whatever, you asshole.” 

Taking a sip of your bitter drink, you start mentally preparing yourself to entertain your crazy bitch of a friend. They nod excitedly, waiting for you to continue. 

It’s like they completely forgot the entire reason you’re here right now, but you brush it off because this is nothing new to you. You’ve known them long enough to know that, despite their perfect popular appearance, they still have flaws. Major flaws. And frankly it didn’t bother you. 

“Dunno. I don’t think he doesn’t shower—and who the fuck cares if he wears the same clothes everyday? I do too? Are people seriously that fucking shallow?” you ask, brow furrowing at the nasty shit that Taylor and their peers seem to talk behind his back. “He smells fine. No B.O, just cigs and uh… cologne, maybe.” 

You leave out the part where you don’t think you’ve smelled any sort of perfume on him before today, looking warily at your friend, who’s toying with the rim of their cup, using the tips of their forty dollar acrylic nails. 

“And how the fuck should I know if he’s into me? He’s fucking weird all the time. His eyes are—when he looks at me… I don’t know. It’s intense. Like that bastard already knows everything about you and still expects you to disappoint him in some way. It’s really fucking weird, I’ve never met anyone like that before, so he is special, alright,” you scoff before continuing, “Also, kind of fucked that you believe some rumors and parrot the same shit your friends say. You literally said you don’t know him personally, and I bet none of your fake ass friends know him either.”

You shouldn’t defend him. You know you shouldn’t defend him, but you can’t fucking help it when you’ve been through the same shit your whole life. People just like to say things, and maybe some of the things they’ve said are true, but—

“What? Bitch I literally know someone who just looked at him wrong, and came back the next day with a broken arm and his dad losing his job. Don’t give me that.”

“Oh? Looked at him wrong, huh? He for sure didn’t say he looked weird, called his outfit shit, or made fun of his scars and skin problems, right? No way he’d said something disrespectful to his face, like the fact that he maybe doesn’t shower. The fuck you on? I’ve seen the way people look at him at school.”

Taylor narrows their eyes at you, scoffs and looks away. 

A pang of anxiety replaces your irritation and you’re about to try to smooth things over, when they finally reply.

“Okay, fine. The guy thought it would be funny to steal his watch and prove he can get away with it. He lied to us too, by the way. But it’s not like he didn’t fuck with you too! He’s literally pushed you and invaded your privacy, threatened you and acted like a creep! And god knows what he was referring to earlier!” They fold their arms defensively.

Your friend is right, he does seem like an unpredictable individual, and you shouldn’t defend him over them. After all, you still haven’t told them about the ugly bruises. 

“Sorry,” they begin, a remorseful look on their face and your eyes widened. “I shouldn’t have said all that. I know people acted like shit around you too in highschool. Still think that you should be careful, though. He’s violent and scary and I know I was messing around earlier, saying he’s interested in you, but I said that because no one has seen him with anyone on campus. Not unless they got into a fight. He’s acting super weird around you.”

You glance at the (now cold) drink in your hands and your shoulders slump forward. “It’s fine. I’m… sensitive because he’s scared me, and it pisses me off how weak I am. I thought I got over most of my mommy and daddy issues, but it only took a bigger asshole to bring them out of me again.” 

Honestly, you wish you had the courage to beat his ass even if it meant he’d be beating yours in return. That way it would at least feel like you’ve tried.

“Honey, no. No, no, no. You’re not weak.” Taylor replies, your eyes becoming wet as they take your hands in theirs and their soft voice melts your heart. “You’re like, the strongest bitch that I know.”

“Shut up.” You look away, frowning with a blurry vision, as your tears threaten to spill over.

They squeeze your hands softly, expression full of understanding. “I’m serious. We’ll figure this whole thing out, okay? Sorry for being nosey, that was really fucked of me.”

“It’s fine, that’s not the issue. I’m just really tired, I think.”

It’s definitely not fine, but you know they mean well.

Your thoughts were running at a hundred miles per hour now, exhaustion catching up with your foggy brain.

─────────

Click —

You unlock the door to your apartment and look around to see if anything’s out of place. Maybe even for a dead body that wasn’t so out of the question anymore.

You double and triple check, going into every room two or three times. Everything’s where it’s supposed to be, and no one seems to have broken into your apartment yet.

If you somehow went back to the version you were this morning, you’d find the way you act right now to be kind of silly.

You were not, though, not anymore, and you know better now. After a well deserved warm shower, you sit down on your cheap thirty-dollar IKEA chair and boot your PC up. You decide that for the next few hours, gaming will be your best coping mechanism for all the stress you’ve gone through today, while you sit around, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

You only manage to get through a couple of hours though, watching the timer of your League queue go up when your phone goes off. After pushing one side of your headset off of your right ear, you pick up.

“Yeah? I thought I saw you like five minutes ago, did you really miss me that much?” you joke, but it falls super flat when you hear Taylor exhale your name shakily. 

Alarms were suddenly going off in your head.

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?!”

Did he do something to them?!

“H-Hey, um. C-Can you check—S-Sorry, it’s really hard to speak right now,” they choke up.

Your own voice starts shaking and you frown at your white walls. “That’s okay, it’s okay. T-Take your time, I’m here. I’m listening. Should I come over?” 

“N-No, hold on. Okay.” They take a deep breath before going on, “Do you remember t-that social media platform for college kids in our city? The popular one. T-The one where I hooked up with that douchebag who asked me to peg him, five minutes into our date?” Taylor took a pause and sniffled. “You didn’t wanna make an account because it was ‘normie shit’ and ‘a waste of time’, r-remember?”

“Yes? Taylor, what the fuck’s happening? Get to the point, please.”

“W-Well, I’ll send you my login info now, and you can c-check it yourself, hold on.”

You hear plastic nails tapping in quick succession on what you assumed was the screen of their phone.

“Can you tell me alread—”

“Hold on! Y-You have to see this, I—I really can’t,” they say, sniffling again and your brows pinching even more.

While waiting, your leg once again starts bouncing anxiously and your phone finally gets pinged. You put your friend on speaker, quickly typing in the address and login on your PC.

“So? What am I supposed to see?”

“J-Just keep scrolling, you’ll find it. I’m so fucking sorry, honey. We’ll go to the dean’s office, or the police… w-we’ll—fuck—we’ll get this sorted out, okay?” your friend attempts to reassure you, but they sounded like they needed it more right now.

You scroll for a while, still having no clue about what you’re supposed to find, listening to Taylor mumble some more and scrolling through random post after random post of annoying frat guys your friend follows, exes, friends, etcetera.

“I still don’t know what I’m supposed to—”

Until your eyes zone in on it, your first and last name displayed at the top of the post. [ Hiiii everyone!!! I’m the hot emo chick in your computer science class at Weston NexTech! ]

* Click Image Attachment

You swallow emptily, clicking on the first attachment.

Dread fills your lungs and suddenly—you’re unable to breathe.

What greets you is your barely legal self. Staring back at you. 

It’s a selfie—your selfie—arm hooked under one of your legs, and pulling it upwards, while you use your other to raise the strap of your thong, teasing the viewer… your ‘boyfriend’ at the time. 

It all clicks at once and you immediately understand what this is—

Revenge porn.

[ So, I bet that got your attention, right? Hehe! You better read closely now! 

I’m making a post here because I’m suuuuper fucking bored, 

and I was hoping you guys could cheer me up! :3 ]

* Click Image Attachment

“Babe? Y-You okay?”

“Hold on,” you reply snappily, feeling the tips of your digits turning painfully cold.

Your bare ass is on display in the second image, bent over the bed and looking back at the camera. Your stomach twists with heavy nausea.

You remember these pictures.

[ I’ve never done this before, but I looove attention <3 and 

since you guys have got nothing to lose, we should all play

a game, okay?! Yaay! 

I’ve always been shy and I thought it 

would be fun to get to know everyone before

I graduate, so this little honor student 

is going to cut you a deal, yeah? ]

* Click Image Attachment

You thought that maybe Taylor hung up on you, but in reality you just stopped being able to hear anything.

With your heart pounding wildly, you glance at the engagement and notice there are about two thousand people who’d liked the fucking thread. 

Two whole thousands, and the thread doesn’t even fucking end there.

[ At the bottom of the thread you can find my email

and phone number! :D

And who knows, if it’s going really well, maybe I’ll even invite you over to my place!!!

Or depending on how this goes, I could share my 

address with everyone! Wouldn’t that be fun? ]

* Click Image Attachment

Suddenly, a lot of today’s events start making sense to you. 

The random phone calls, the spam emails, the people looking at you funny and jocks almost sexually assaulting you on the way to class.

[ You better hurry now, before it’s too late

and I change my mind! Hehe! 

I’ll be posting new clips every Tuesday, at 11 PM, 

make sure to watch them all!

So please, please, please! Text me, call me, or

hit me up IRL! I’d like to get to know as many of you hotties as I can <3

Keep in mind that I’m shy and I like assertive guys, 

so don’t worry if I say no! I really, really like rough roleplay 

as you can see below!

Till next Tuesday and thank you for the likes!!! <3 ] 

* Play video

You must’ve shifted realities, because your body stopped feeling like your own. 

Why were you here again?

Ah, because you decided to cut Shigaraki out of your project.

Or maybe because he’d asked to play with you and you were too stunned to respond to him.

Would you have played with him if the stun wore off that time, if he’d asked again? Probably not.

So then, you’re here because the two of you met at the convenience store, way back.

What had you said to him that day? Couldn’t you have just gotten out of the way like a normal human being? But he wasn’t mad the next day when he’d met you in class.

That means you must have fucked up badly, multiple times, right?

This is your fault. It’s always your fault.

But there’s no time for that, because you partially tune into reality again, and now you can hear Taylor crying softly on the speaker of your phone.

With a shaky grip on your mouse, you press play on the clip and the first noise you hear is your dealer fumbling with the camera, trying to set it up.

It’s been years. 

This was a different time of your life, one that you’d like so desperately to erase from your brain, from your history.

You were high, and not on life, no.

You’re high on something crazy, like heroin. It was one of the first videos too, you remember. You can tell by the amount of scars and bruises you can see on yourself. And you’d let your dealer… your sort-of-ex, take pictures of your body as another form of payment, after sexual favors became too boring for him. 

But it didn’t stop at that. 

No, that was only the start. He’d started recording videos of the two of you fucking—really low quality amateur pornos—and then, as the months passed, he’d realized he could talk you into trying pretty much anything if he dangled the right prizes in front of your eyes. 

You were way younger, really fucking stupid, always under the influence, with no safety-net and constantly daring life over and over to really mess you up. It meant you didn’t give a fuck about your situation, of some insignificant videos or pictures… at least at first.

If anything you used to like the attention from him. 

From anyone.

But that all had changed, once you started cleaning up your act, once you were able to become confident again. You made him delete all of them, you really did, but the bastard must have had backups, something that did cross your mind at the time, but you thought—hoped—that he at least wouldn’t share them with anyone. He was a coward and a criminal after all. One that you had a lot of dirt on, in case he decided to fuck you over. 

It should’ve been fine, you should’ve been safe.

Unless someone like Shigaraki managed to get a hold of him, threatening or paying him off to get what he wanted. Yeah, that must’ve been it.

But you haven’t gotten the slightest clue as to how he put two and two together to find your ex. You’d almost completely changed your identity since. 

However, that must not matter for someone of Shigaraki’s caliber, because you’re now staring at the evidence that more than half of your university has had access to.

“Taylor,” you say in a monotone voice, a quiet tear escaping you.

“Y-Yes? Hun, I’m s-sorry. I’m r-really so-rry.”

Pain thrums through your cells and your chest hurts. You don’t know how to comfort them.

You don’t know how to comfort your fucking self.

“It’s… not the full video. He’s—he’s splitting it into parts. He’s planning to fuck with me by posting them week by week before class, so that he’ll be able to gauge my reaction. Like an actual psychopath.”

Your eyes glide over the thread quickly once more. Then, again. Reading it over and over.

Ah, he’s insane. Completely, utterly, off-his-fucking-medication insane. 

You thought maybe your stupid fucking brain was playing tricks on you but no.

He’d left you a message. In the thread.

He’d actually left you a message.

You open notepad on your PC and write it down, side by side.

[ I bet that got your attention, right?—You better read closely now—I have got nothing to lose—We should play a game—I’m going to cut you a deal—It’s over—Depending on how this goes—I’ll share your address with everyone—You better hurry now, before it’s too late and I change my mind ]

You lose. Game over

Taylor is calling your name. You blink. Twice.

“W-We can go to the dean, right? T-They should understand. W-We’ll go together and—”

“No,” you interrupt, a feeling of numbness washing over you. “I’m not sure they’ll believe me. Plus his dad’s a big shot.”

“Please, we can—we can go to the police! He—He can’t get away with this!”

“It’s fine. I’m hanging up, okay? I’ll try calling him and if that doesn’t work then… I don’t know. I’ll just try calling him.”

“What? No! Don’t! We need the police—please, please, let’s go to the police!”

“You know I can’t do that, Tay. I’ll talk to you later. It’ll be fine,” you lie, cutting them off and hanging up.

Your hands are shaking, as you stare at his name in your contacts list.

‘You lose’ he’d said. ‘Game over’

It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay, you chant in your head. You’ll be okay, you’ve been through worse, you’ll be okay.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring—

“Yeah?” a hoarse voice replies with a curse under his breath, seemingly distracted, as sounds of a mechanical keyboard bleed through the phone speakers and up against your ear.

“It’s… It’s me.”

Then there was silence.

Until you hear a strange sound. It takes you a good second to realize that he’s fucking giggling.

“Uh-huuuh. What did you want? I’m busy,” he says while your hearing attunes to him mashing his keyboard louder. 

You take a deep breath. “Take it down.”

“Hmmm? Take what down? You should be more specific, I’m not really following.” Shigaraki smiles and you could fucking hear it in his voice.

Your eyes screw shut, anger already bubbling within yourself. “You know what I mean, stop playing dumb. Take. It. Down.”

“Aaah, I don’t have time to play games with you, so either get to the point or—”

“What do you want, Shigaraki? Hm?” you growl, quickly losing your patience. “Do you want me to blow you? Sleep with you? What do you want from me?”

“Whoaaaa, what the hell? Chill! Do I look like some desperate fucking loser to you?” he says it, like he doesn't know. “Only idiots would think to fuck ugly bimbos like you, and it seems like you’re pretty much used goods at this point anyways, haha. Honestly, who’d fuck you at all ever again? I’ve seen all the shit your ex did—” He inhales sharply, key taps becoming frantic on the other side of the line. “Fuck! They’re on B, planting! Spinner, fucking TP there, stop wasting time, FUCK! HEY! Do you want to win, or what? Oh, you do? Then fucking LISTEN to me.”

After a long second of him huffing and puffing in your ear, it finally clicks in your brain. 

Shigaraki is gaming, playing with his buddies, relaxing while you feel like your life is falling apart for the 1000th time this month.

“Okay,” you finally say.

“Okay? Okay, what?” he scoffs. “You know, you should try a little harder, moron. I told you what to do before, if you want me to help you.” Shigaraki pauses, focusing on his game for another moment. You watch your animated wallpaper turn into a dark screen due to your inactivity—until he snorts. “Yeah, maybe you do enjoy this kind of thing, after all. I wouldn’t really put it past you. After seeing those vids, boy, gotta admit.” He whistles and his mic peaks. “Didn’t think you were the type! Ahh, does the faculty even know? I wonder how they’d react, knowing their adorable little honors student was spending her free time fucking low-level druglords, getting high and recording shitty rape-porn!”

“What I do with my life, in private, is none of your fucking business!” you yell into your phone. “Do you even know how old I was in those? What I fucking went through? Did you not fucking see? Yet you still decide you wanna go ahead and dox me?” you ask desperately, voice cracking multiple times. “What kind of monster are you? How low can you fucking stoop, like actually?”

What were you trying to do? Appeal to his humanity? Does a guy like this even feel empathy? The last few ones in your life didn’t, and they were all really fucked up too. What’s the chance he’d listen? Probably none, but what’s the point in holding back anyways?

“Damn, don’t get emotional, man. Not my fuckin’ problem you let your shitty ass boyfriends fuck you up like that—Fuck, shut up! Wasn’t talking to you, idiot. Yeah, I’m in a call, focus on the fucking game!” he yells at his friends before continuing, “Listen, got anything else to say besides bitching and whining at me? Last I recall, I gave you two fucking options, and so far you’ve chosen to ignore both. So explain to me why I should do anything for you, hm? Make it count, too, ‘cos I’m really tired of hearing you cry in my fuckin’ ears.”

Wow—he was just… wow.

“I’m sorry,” you say honestly, breaking that apology record after all.

“Mm? Come again? Couldn’t hear ya.” 

Tomura smiles expectantly.

At last, the breaking point. He’d hoped that ideally, it would’ve happened in class, with you kneeling before him in front of all NPCs to see, but this was okay too. He’s going to cut you a little more slack, you didn’t know who you were dealing with, after all. 

See? He can be merciful as well.

Your jaw tightens, eyes becoming glassy with wet sadness for the nth time today.

“I’m fucking sorry, o-okay?”

The weight comes crashing on you all at once, and you finally break down crying in front of the devil himself. 

You hear him saying ‘BRB’ and after some shuffling, the line becomes completely silent, save for your pathetic sobs. 

Is he just listening to you suffer? Was he that fucking cruel?

“I-I’m sorry for being such a—such a bitch to you in the store—f-for talking to you in class and g-getting you in trouble with the professor. I-I’m really fucking sorry. I didn’t know better,” you sob. “I shouldn’t have—shouldn't have talked out of turn, shouldn’t have upset you—” Your voice cracks and you choke, “I-I wish I’d never talked to you. I was stupid. R-Really, really stupid to cross you. Will you please, please take the thread down? I’ll make sure I’ve learned m-my place. I won't bother you again.”

You sound so pathetic even to your own ears, as you descend into the beginnings of a panic attack. It’s over. It’s all over. Your life is going to be destroyed after this. You’ll lose your scholarship, Taylor will leave you and you’ll finally buy that rope and fucking hang—

He should be feeling thrilled, ecstatic even, now that he’s finally gotten to crush you.

You, with your filthy fucking mouth, always cursing at him, always talking shit and trying to piss him off. You, who are like everyone else in this world, who’ll sneer and think you’re better than him. He’s put you in your place where you belong, like everyone else who tries to fuck with him. 

Held back, even.

That’s right, he’s holding back right now. He’s given you a choice and you finally used that stupid brain of yours to take it.

He should be feeling on top of the world, but instead he feels something twisting within him, hearing the broken desperation in your voice.

Ahhh. Anger. He’s feeling anger.

You wished you’d never talked to him? To never bother him again?

Shouldn’t you wish to be nicer? For him to forgive you? For him to like you?

The fuck kind of apology was this? Why were you so fucking clueless?

“That all?” he replies to your sobs, bored and indifferent.

“What?” you whisper.

“Is that fucking all, I asked. Are you fuckin’ deaf now or something?” He raises his voice at you and you flinch.

“I-I don’t u-understand, I’m being genuinely—”

“I DoN’t unDerStaAanD! Fucking—cry more, bitch,” Shigaraki mocks you. “You’re wasting my fucking time, so if that’s all you have to say, I’m hanging up.” 

Fuck, he’s let himself become defensive. He’s being irrationally angry right now, losing his cool.

This hurt feels new to him, and he’s only ever felt it around you. That’s right, it’s your fault.

It’s your fault you disrespected him when he’d asked to play with you. It’s your fault you thought you could get away with getting him in trouble, it’s your fault he’s feeling this way right now.

It’s your fucking fault, and he’s angry, so very angry that someone like you is able to get to him, to hurt—

You feel your knuckles turning white from the pressure of your fingertips against the plastic case of your phone.

“Can you stop being a fucking child f-for one f-fucking second, and talk to me so I can understand?!”

“There’s nothing for you to understand. You’re fucking retarded, and I’m gonna make sure you can’t set a single fucking foot outside your house, without feeling scared that rapists and stalkers are camping next to your door. Stupid bitch, maybe I’ll post the entire fucking thing today, give ‘em your address and get it over with,” he grunts, voice low and cold. “I lost the game too, ‘cos of your sorry ass.”

“—really fucking hate you, Shigaraki! But you’re used to people feeling like that about you, aren’t you? Fucking with my life—with people’s lives like you’re some—what? Some god?” you spit, abandoning all your reasoning. 

If he’s going to destroy your life too, might as well go down with a fight, right?

“You’re not, though,” you laugh bitterly, million thoughts racing through your head and you feel like your brain is gonna split. “You’re really not. You’re just a… you’re just a pathetic unoriginal asshole, and I can’t fucking believe how stupid I was to let myself—to ever think—to stoop so low and fucking feel like you’re—to fucking like someone like y—” 

There’s silence.

And then you hear Shigaraki inhale softly.

Blood drains from your face. 

Were you just about to… were you confessing to him?

Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid.

Your thumb hovers over the ‘end call’ button. Fuck this.

“What? What did you—what were you saying?”

“Fuck off,” you whisper, shoulders slumping.

“HEY! Repeat? What did you say? You can’t believe you what?” His voice is eager as he presses you, but you’re already checked out of the conversation.

“I said, go fuck yourself asshole. Pray I kill myself before I have to see you again.”

“If you fucking dare to hang up now, I swear to fucking GOD,” he yells, volume peaking again and you just end the call, turning your phone off and slumping in your chair.

Then, you giggle deliriously at the memory of you defending him a few hours ago. 

What were you even saying? Ahh, right! ‘Don’t pick on him because of silly rumors. Don’t say stupid shit if you don’t know him!’ 

You’re so fucking stupid. Why the fuck did you friendly fire at your best friend of all people? They were right. He’s just a piece of shit. You’d even cried in front of him, begging him to stop. You’d fucking apologized.

Pathetic. That’s all you are. Fucking pathetic.

“Fuck this whole world, honestly,” you whisper to yourself. 

Getting up, you grab your phone and use all your force to throw it across the room, hearing it smash against the wall and then fall to the floor. You hope it splintered and broke, the way you feel like your life has.

[quinnswritingquill]

The Drug In Me Is You

Jason Todd x AFAB Reader

✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰

✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰

CW: Slowburn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Light? BDSM, Blood Kink, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Honestly Kinky in Gen., Reader has female gentile, Use of Y/N but not too much.

AN: This is pretty much of a what if Jason was a sugar daddy turned lover. I also posted this on Ao3 as well.

��̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*

Not everyone is built to handle the harsh world of Gotham. I mean fuck, I was raised in this hell bent city. I grew up surviving just barely over the poverty line. Lower income childhood meant cheap or in the box food for dinner. It meant thrifted clothes or cheap chain stores having sales and deals. Brands for show. School supplies, book ads, shoes, ect.

Nothing would prepare me for tipping my toe onto the world of rich men and wealthy women. Couldn't afford to attend college, not that it was the most important thing for me. But I needed to live on my own. Support myself. Somehow I managed to land a job as a waitress at a high-end restaurant near the wealthiest part of Gotham City. The hourly pay barely covers my rent. But the tips? Those help cover food, some to cover miscellaneous costs, and a little bit extra for savings incase of other crap. Still surviving. Barely but better.

No need for another job right now. It's been months since I started there. And I even have my own little studio apartment because of the job. Within a month of saving all the money I earned and money I previously saved. It's old and covered floor to ceiling with art pieces. Some older and some fairly more recent. I like looking at them. They bring life to this creepy old building.

Today I scrambled recklessly out of bed once my alarm clock started blasting. Turning it off I glanced at the time. Damn it's only 10 am, I still have about a few hours before my shift. I stretched out my sore muscles and walked to my small kitchen to make brunch. I grab out my lovely yogurt bowl and place it on the table along with the food I'm gonna scarf down. I mix my granola mix with some strawberry yogurt in the bowl. A quick meal before I get dressed for work.

By the time I finished eating, showering, dressing up, and cleaning up it's one o'clock. I check my work outfit just in case. We only had two choices that could be four different outfits at work. White or black button up, black slacks, or a knee length skirt. Obviously with tights tho. I picked a fuzzy off my black button up and straightened the pencil skirt. Finally I put my heels into my bag and slipped on my flats.

The restaurant was busy as usual. Honestly I wished for at least one day for us to be slow. But unfortunately rich people don't exactly give one shit. At least I think so. It's not something I would actually say, well to their faces.

My coworker Allison comes up to me as I swipe a card to finish paying my current table's bill.

" Hey Y/N? I just wanted to let you know I just sat three at table ten. The reservation is for Wayne." She said before patting my shoulder.

I smile, " Yeah okay, thanks Ally."

I go back and hand the receipt and card to my leaving table and head towards table ten. Three gorgeous looking men sit, chatting and laughing like they're not at a five star restaurant but at a diner by a public highschool. Weird beautiful men, but alright. I pull out my spiral notepad, pen in my right hand, ready for them to order.

" Hello there! You must be the Wayne reservation. I am your waitress this evening. My name is Y/N. Are gentlemen ready to order drinks?" I make sure to sweeten my words.

The three men stop talking. One with the shorr, but longer dark hair speaks, " Yes we are. We also know what we would like to order as well."

The man with the red hair and the man dawning the short black hair with a white streak also agree with the other gentleman. I jotted down the orders. I collect their menus and walk over to put in the orders so they get sent to the kitchen.

Once they finished eating, I walked over with the receipt and the card that belonged to the charming man with the long hair. I bid the men good day, leaving with the signed copy receipt. I opened the book to see the receipt and three sets of tips. Two were around a hundred in cash tips. The other was. What the hell? Five hundred dollars in cash?? The entire meal cost less than that! I stare blankly at the money before grabbing it out to place it in my wallet I use for my personal tips of the day.

Fuck it, I take it back. Only some rich people are douchebags. I finish my things up and head out to the back side of the building for a short smoke break before I take my lunch. I pull out my unopened cigarette pack from my bag and hit the bottom of the pack before unwrapping it. I grab out my FUCK OFF labeled lighter from the side pocket. I light it and take a long inhale of smoke.

" Got a light?" A voice asks.

I exhale and nod, " Yeah." And hand my lighter over, still not looking over.

He laughs, " Thanks, sweetheart. Did you like the tip? Thought you deserved more since you had to deal with my brother Dick and our friend Roy. They can be… Loud."

That's when I looked over like a deer in headlights, " Uh.. Ooh that was you? And yeah, thank you for the tip. But you do realize the entire check was less than that right? I'm not complaining, just curious."

He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth before taking a bit to talk, " Yeah, I know that, darling. But I like spoiling hard-working people. Money is money. I also know that this place gets more money than they pay their waiters and waitresses. I know that most of you survive with tips."

"Oh." I manage out.

I can't but stare at the sincere look on his face. His absolutely hot face. God I need to get a fucking grip. He finishes his cigarette and hands me back my lighter. I put the rest of my own cancer stick out as well before shoving my shit back into my bag.

His hands are in his pocket as he smiles at me.

"My name is Jason, by the way, sweetheart. What's yours?" His right hand extends towards me.

I take his hand to shake, " It's Y/N."

We shake hands but before I can pull away he already turned mine over and plants a light kiss on it. I just stared like a god damned weirdo so unsure of what was going on. Letting my hand go he shoves his own back into his pocket.

"Have a good night Y/N." And he walks away.

What the actual fuck is wrong with me? My face is hot and I rush back inside to grab my lunch. I sit in the back of the locker room slash break room. Recounting the events only worsens my reddened face. I shovel my chicken caesar salad trying to refocus myself. Spoiler alert, that didn't fucking work. I look at the clock on the wall. An hour and I'm out of here. I can just forget pretty boy and move on. He's definitely just a flirt. Get over it Y/N.

Even when I got home, I can confidently say I didn't forget Jason. In actuality, all I did was think about him. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Okaeri (a scrapped 'Another Level' scene)

Hello!! I decided to post this old draft of Rinko and Gojo's reunion after he was released from the Prison Realm to give you guys a lil look at just how much changed from when I originally started writing Another Level to where we are now.

This draft was something I wrote very early on, and by the time we got Gojo out of the Prison Realm, it didn't fit the story at all.

I'll provide a breakdown at the end to give more context and commentary, but the primary thing you'll need to know before reading is that, originally, I had intended for Rinko to stay in hiding and completely isolated throughout almost the entire 19 days. So, that's where she's at in this draft that I eventually scrapped completely 🙃

Happy reading 💕

If you haven't already, you can read Another Level on AO3 😊

*This work contains possible JJK Manga spoilers. Gojo x Original Female Character. Uhhhh. Implied smut?

Okaeri

2018

Twenty days.

It had been twenty days since he’d been sealed. 

Well, technically, it was nineteen and a few hours.

A glance at the clock told her it was still the middle of the night.

Around day eleven, Rinko asked herself when she’d become the kind of person who counted days like this.

She used to go weeks without speaking to him. Months without seeing him. It never bothered her before.

Got somethin’ real important to tell ya.

It was because he was still their win condition. 

Because they couldn’t win this without him.

Got somethin’ real important-

Probably didn’t help that she hadn’t left his damn condo in almost fifteen days now. She’d gone to let Shoko reassess her injuries and get the all-clear afterward because, apparently even Shoko didn’t fucking know where Gojo lived.

Secretive little shit.

Rinko had since learned that the list was shorter than she originally thought, only including her, Yaga, and Nanami.

Well, it only included her now-

Got somethin’ real-

Having gotten enough basic food to last her for a long time when she’d gone to see Shoko, she’d been isolated since.

And going fucking crazy.

At least the dreams had stopped. Mercifully, they’d stopped a few days after her fucking delusional wet dream.

Got somethin’ real important to tell ya.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Rinko forced herself out of the torturous safety of the bed. She needed to shower and get dressed. Wear real clothes and feel like a fucking human instead of a walking corpse just because her- best friend was gone.

She’d received a text earlier telling her to meet Hime, Shoko, and Yoshinobu at the Tokyo Tech campus because they had news, but she’d been asleep. So, she’d texted Shoko to let her know she would head that way soon.

Her body ached from the strain of moving for the first time in what felt like days. But she knew that wasn’t true. She’d forced herself to make food the day prior, staring at the stove as she made herself eggs and toast, wondering how much longer she’d be able to force herself to live like this.

Unable to help. She’d had to learn about Megumi from Shoko, unable to do anything to help. Knowing it was partially because Tsumiki-

The shower drowned her sobs and amplified them at the same time.

Pulling another one of Gojo’s sweaters over her head, she realized she needed to do laundry. She’d quickly run out of her own shirts, which she hadn’t been too worried about. But she drew the line at wearing his pants.

Grumbling to herself, she looked through her bag on the floor of his closet before moving into the bedroom to search through the pile near the hamper. She was not going to wear his pants. Even if she had to wear a dirty, gross pair of her own.

As she rifled through the pile, swearing briefly when she couldn’t find any, she continued mumbling.

“Fucking swear, I know I brought more than one pair. Where the fuck are they?”

She let out a small cry of relief when she finally found a pair at the bottom of his hamper.

“S’legs are too fuckin long anyway,” she said to herself, sticking her right leg in. “Would fuckin trip before I could-”

A quiet chuckle cut her off, halting with her left leg halfway into the pants. She blinked slowly.

She was really fucking losing it.

There was another chuckle, this time causing Rinko to whip around to see him standing in the doorway, smiling at her.

He was wearing the same clothes she’d last seen him in, his jacket ripped to shreds. His hands were in his pockets as he stared at her, blindfold nowhere to be seen.

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “Nope. Officially too far. Don’t care who it is on the council. I’ll just fucking- I’ll just kill all of them. I could do it. More than capable. Just a bunch of old fucks. I’ve gotta fucking leave this place.”

Yanking her pants the rest of the way on, she kept mumbling to herself as she refused to look at the specter in the doorway.

“Fucking hallucinating, great. Oh, Hime’s gonna fucking love this. Never let me fucking live it down. Know exactly what she’s gonna say, too: ‘I told you so, Rinko. I knew he’d drive you crazy someday.’ Fucking-”

Rinko cut off when she tried to walk through the door, ignoring the stupid apparition of her damned delusional, fucked up mind, only to find that this apparition was solid.

She blinked for a moment, staring straight at the hallucination’s chest.

Did she- was the door closed, and she just forgot? Had her crazy dumbass just fucking run into the door?

“Rinko,” it whispered, arms going around her waist as she stumbled. “Rinko-chan-”

“I have fucking lost it,” she breathed, tears in her eyes as it grasped her chin, forcing her to look up.

Bright blue eyes from her fucking nightmares at this point.

She closed her eyes immediately, squeezing them shut and willing herself to make it go away. To stop torturing herself.

“Rinko,” he repeated quietly. “I’m here. You might be crazy, sweetheart, but not that crazy-”

“Exactly what an insane person’s hallucination would say,” she stated.

Gojo laughed, the sound ripping her chest open. And she felt that void blow wide open with it as she realized she’d truly gone insane.

Completely broken and unhinged, and honestly, maybe Shoko would understand if she just crawled back into bed. Because, at this point, she couldn’t do it. Fully and truly, honestly couldn’t do it anymore.

“I always knew you liked me more than you admitted,” he teased, his voice sounding too real. “Open your eyes, baby.”

“You’re not fucking real,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the last word. “I-”

“Rinko,” he cut her off, his breath against her lips. “Rinko, baby, look at me.”

When she still didn’t open her eyes, he hummed quietly, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Baby,” his voice was amused now. “Don’t make me spank you-”

Her eyes shot open, irritation flooding her as she met his bright blue, glowing eyes as he grinned.

Only this asshole would-

“Thought that might get you to open them,” he murmured, chuckling when she scowled. “Baby, I’m here.”

Her face scrunched as he leaned even closer, nudging his nose against hers teasingly.

“Rinko-chan,” he breathed, his lips brushing hers. “I’m home.”

Not waiting for a reply, he pressed his lips to hers gently before moving his hand from her chin to tangle in her hair. His other arm stayed around her waist, pulling her so she was flush against him.

“Missed you,” he said, sucking her tongue into his mouth. “Missed you so much, baby.”

Tears were running down her cheeks, her mind still not believing what was in front of her was real. He ground his hips into her, moving to lick her neck and groaning when she whimpered quietly.

Giving in slowly, her hands grasped his shirt, fingers clenching the fabric as she sobbed.

“I- you were- I thought-”

“Couldn’t stay away from you,” he teased, sucking her pulse harshly, moaning as one of her hands went to his hair, tugging the strands lightly. “Had somethin’ important to tell you, remember?”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” she whined, feeling Gojo’s laugh rumble through her. “You can’t just-”

He silenced her by leaning back up, capturing her lips again, and slowly walking her backward.

“Shh, baby,” he hummed, biting her lip. “Just let me make you feel good. Been a bit, yeah? You miss me?”

-

Commentary

Obviously, this is very different from what we had in Something Important.

As I said before, I wrote this early on. So by the time we got to Shibuya, this draft no longer fit. It just didn't fit who Rinko was as a person anymore. With the growth she experienced, especially in the few months leading up to Shibuya, she wouldn't react this way.

I've mentioned a few times that I hadn't intended to really include the Culling Game arc. And I still didn't, not really. But having Rinko hiding away and being scared of the higher-ups just isn't who she is. Especially when it comes to her kids' safety. Like hell would Rinko have just sat in isolation with no updates on the kids. Hell no. If they'd tried to get her to, she'd have stormed one of the barriers herself and killed anyone who got in between her and her kids.

I also felt this draft made it seem way too much like Rinko's life revolved around Gojo when it doesn't. So, having her sit around and count the days just felt cheap.

There was no way Rinko would have sat by while her kids were fighting for their lives like this. And there was no way, after the realizations and the growth she'd gone through, that she would crumble like this and allow herself to sink into things like this.

But on top of that, there was no way that Rinko would be able to just welcome Gojo back as her fuck buddy without her heart completely breaking in half after all the loss that she'd experienced at this point.

Personally, this would have ended up feeling far to emotionally detached from all the trauma and loss that the two of them have gone through, and it would have negated any positive character development we'd had up until then as well.

The more I've read this back over to write this lil commentary, the more I fall in love with how Something Important turned out. Because it genuinely felt like the perfect reunion for these two after everything that had happened.

If I remember correctly, I wrote this way back before I wrote I Say "Sayonara." Soooo, that should tell you something about how much had changed 🙃

Also, you'll notice a few small details that I snuck into other installments once I realized that this one was going to have to be scrapped.

One of them being the joke about Gojo's legs being too long for her to wear his pants, which I included in Fragmented Reality instead.

SO. There's that. A small look behind the curtain of one of the original drafts that was completely scrapped in favor of something much better 😂😂

Did I MAKE ANY SENSE?? I FEEL LIKE I DIDN'T BUT HOPEFULLY I DID 🫠🫠

ALSO, I will include a fun lil extra blurb that I was never able to include anywhere, and that made me sad because I found it hilarious:

They lay there comfortably for a few minutes, focusing on each other’s breathing.

“Yoshinobu!” she suddenly gasped out, causing Gojo to scowl down at her when she tried to shove him away. “Hime! I was supposed to meet them-”

“They already knew you weren’t going to make it,” he cut her off, swatting her hands and putting them back into his hair. “I told them I’d update you and get back to them.”

“Oh,” she breathed, settling back once more.

He lifted his head back up to look her in the eye, his gaze serious.

“And don’t you ever yell Gakuganji’s name after I’ve just cum inside you,” he deadpanned, pulling a breathless laugh from her. “I mean it, Rinko. That’s enough to make my dick shrink forever.”

“I’m sorry!” she gasped, the weight in her chest lifting with each giggle.

[drarryandtomarryfanfics]

(Random) Must Read Drarry & Tomarry Fanfics

i know ive no excuse as to why it’s been so long since i last post – i was busy with life yknow & at some point i thought that my Drarry/Tomarry time was done but noooo – these knuckleheads just dont want to leave me alone, no matter what fandom ive joined – Drarry/Tomarry fandom would always be my safespace & comfort space & i would always come back home to them SO im back & hopefully may be of service again – so my fellow drarry/tomarry lovers heres some random drarry&tomarry fics that certainly help me get back to reading ! enjoy lovelies ♡

drarry fics :

Running on Air by eleventy7

Platform : AO3

Tags : Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence, Broken Draco Malfoy, Broken Harry Potter, Angst, So much Angst, Involvement of Time-Turners, Time-traveling Gone Wrong, Draco Malfoy needs a Hug, Harry Potter needs a Hug, Quidditch Superstar Ginny Weasley, Mystery, Drama, Friendship, Slow Burn, Romance, etc.

( Rated T, 74,880 words, multichapter, completed )

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

THIS IS A MASTERPIECE & IT’S UR LOST IF U STILL HAVEN’T READ IT BECAUSE IT’S SUPERB. THIS FIC GIVES U THE FEELS & ARGH JUST READ THE DAMN THING !!!

The Body Keeps Score by Anonymous

Platform : AO3

Tags : Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Porn, Porn with Feelings, Mutual Pining, enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, sorta - Freeform, more like, enemies to fuck buddies to friends to lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Trauma, Healing, Boundaries, Falling In Love, Touch, exploring the parameters of consent, Drarry being Drarry, etc.

( Rated E, 13,571 words, oneshot, completed )

Draco cries during sex.

A story about touch, intimacy, and the healing we find through mutual trust and love.

✨feels✨

Worth Losing Sleep Over by MelCalder

Platform : AO3

Tags : Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, PWP, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Draco Malfoy, Omega Harry Potter, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Self-Lubrication, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Knotting, Scared Harry, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Smut, Humor, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, kind of, A Pinch of Angst, etc.

( Rated E, 9,491 words, oneshot, completed )

Draco is kind of exhausted, but some things are worth losing sleep over. And study time.

It’s been so long since ive last read abo trope featuring our boys & well, i want more.

One Day’s Difference by MelCalder

Platform : AO3

Tags : Fluff, Established Relationship, non-graphic birth, Pregnant Draco Malfoy, Midwife Luna Lovegood, Vaginal Birth, Draco Malfoy has an artificial vagina, Smitten Harry Potter, Eccentric Draco Malfoy, etc.

( Rated E, 10,307 words, oneshot, completed )

Draco’s sacrifices his god-given body and has (mostly) no regrets.

if u want to read realistic depiction of a pregnant (mpreg) Draco then fucking read this shit

tommary fics :

Holly & Yew by LovelyLotus

Platform : AO3

Tags : Childhood Friends, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Eventual Healer Harry Potter, Wool's Orphanage (Harry Potter), Smart Harry Potter, Possessive Tom Riddle, Child Abuse, Master of Death Harry Potter, Historical Inaccuracy, Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Growing Up Together, Possessive Behavior, Smitten Tom Riddle, Parseltongue, Soul Bond, Codependency, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Harry is bad at eating because the Dursleys suck, 1930s, 1940s, World War II, Future Power Couple in the Making, Self-Harm, They are besotted with each other, Animal Death, Slow burn but very Tom and Harry centric, minor necromancy, Tom Riddle Loves Harry Potter, Harry Potter Loves Tom Riddle, Childhood Sweethearts, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle Attend Hogwarts Together, Ambiguous Romantic Relationships, Their relationship will be pretty lovey-dovey from the start, Oblivious Harry Potter, Unhealthy Relationships, First Year: Complete, Second Year: Complete, Homophobia, etc.

( Rated M, 214,621 words, multi-chaptered, ongoing )

After a bout of accidental magic when Harry is six, Vernon goes too far. When Harry wakes up, he is gravely wounded and more than fifty years in the past in another world. After some shuffling, Harry ends up at Wool's. There, he meets Tom Riddle, his mysterious roommate, eventual best friend, and the love of his life.

Inspired by a doctor he meets in the past, Harry is determined to go into medicine and protect other children like himself and Tom. Tom has his own dream of becoming Prime Minister. The boys quickly become inseparable and are determined to help each other down their paths to build a life together.

He wanted Harry. He had never coveted anyone this much.

Tom understood now that some part of him had never given up on having a… friend. Someone who understood him more than anyone else. Someone who would always take his side.

In a flash, he knew he would do anything to have Harry Faye’s loyalty.

this is a widely known fic nowadays, ive seen it being on the top recommendation list on many platform.. & it’s totally worth the hype 🖤

to have and to hold by partakeninwitchery

Platform : AO3

Tags : Auror Harry Potter, Minister for Magic Tom Riddle, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, at least i think it is, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Obscurials (Harry Potter), only mentioned you don't meet her, Sane Tom Riddle, as sane as he can be anyway, harry too tbh, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, No Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter), Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, tom could've tho, etc.

( Rated ?, 2,531 words, oneshot, completed )

“Everything alright, Harry?” Tom said, walking into the kitchen.

Harry froze where he was bringing the cup of hot tea to his lips, he’d thought Tom would be at work until late. He slowly put the mug back down, gritting his teeth through the twinges of pain moving his arm caused. He could only hope his husband didn’t recognise the faint smell of a pain potion mixed in his tea.

just tom being overprotective over harry – nothing to take seriously, except tom took everything to personal matters (hahahaha)

The Darkening of Your Soul by Maeglin_Yedi

Platform : AO3

Tags : Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Do-Over, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending, Master of Death Harry Potter, Bottom Harry, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Consensual Underage Sex, eventually, Sane Tom Riddle, Possessive Tom Riddle, Top Tom Riddle, Idiots in Love, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Harry Potter is So Done, Harry Potter is a Brat, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, BAMF Neville Longbottom, Neville Longbottom is a Good Friend, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Misguided Albus Dumbledore, Angst and Humor, Maybe some character bashing, Slytherin Harry Potter, Good Slytherins, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Oblivious Harry Potter, Sane Voldemort, Somewhat Good Voldemort, Harry Potter is the Heir to the House of Black, POV Harry Potter, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Abuse, etc.

( Rated M, 260,497 words, multi-chaptered, ongoing )

Harry is betrayed. Harry gets a second chance to do it all over again.

There is just one catch. If Harry gets to keep his memories from his previous life, so does Voldemort.

THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST AMAZING TOMARRY FICS I’VE EVER READ HANDSDOWN ! like it gives u hindsight & how butterfly effects works & so on ! this fic deserves all the attention it gets really ! Oh, & tommy boy has blue eyes in here – that wasn't s crucial information but i can’t stop thinking abt that

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 56 - This Bitch

Because I am incapable of cross-posting during the middle of the week, here's Wednesday's chapter! Ch. 57 coming out tomorrow: Let the Bodies Hit the Floor.

You meet the Absolute.

On AO3.

As Wyll says, the rain ends just about as fast as it started. Y’all head out again, up the hill, when y’all run into another troupe of goblins with a short, purple dude tied up to a spinning windmill. Little dude hollers all the way up, and all the way down.

You’re still drained, so when you catch Karlach clucking her tongue at the little dude’s predicament, you nudge her into talking to the goblins. She basically threatens to crush their skulls between her hands—she leans in all close and heat pours off her and huh, that does something for you.

The goblins leave the little dude—Wullbren—who’s looking for his friend. He lets y’all have his pack in thanks for the rescue. Still no jewelry (you been avoiding looking at Astarion since the shed; it’s horrifying how easy it is to fall back into a friendly pattern with him).

It’s quiet up to the last bridge. Some kinda building rises in a crag through the hill beyond. The brush is burnt and charred, little pockets of embers still gather at the bases of blackened trees. Shitty, shoddy ramparts have been thrown up in that crag gap, and goblins move atop them. They ain’t alone.”

“Are those wargs?” you say. Fuckers look like some kinda hyena-bear mix (what would a half Man-Wolf, half ogre even look like).

Gale shoots you a look. “How do you know what a warg is?”

Same way you know about elves, magic, goblins, and fucking ogres.

“We got stories,” you say. “Made up stories, for us. But here…”

The last part said with a gesture to the ramparts.

Gale’s fingers twitch again. Since he can’t whip out an inkpot and a scroll right here, he inhales, clasps his hands, and says, “I rather strongly request another information session when we have the chance.”

Man wants stories.

“If we ain’t all dead, sure,” you say.

This whole thing might be over by tonight. Or soonish, if Mr. Healer ain’t dead. And after that…

After that, you’re stuck here.

The thought twists your stomach. You look at the group again. All of them with their own lives. Two of them want nothing to do with you (you try not to acknowledge the white fluff outta the corner of your eye). Shadowheart seems nice enough eventually, but she still has her own secret shit going on. Karlach is fresh outta the hells, so your best bet is still likely Wyll or Gale. And you can be of more use to Gale, you think. Wyll seems friendly and heroic, and you doubt he’d leave your ass in a ditch. But Gale is hungry for knowledge (you recognize that look) and you can leverage that.

…maybe he needs a housekeeper? You could do that.

Later. This is all later. Flailing around about it now ain’t gonna help a damned thing.

For now, y’all gotta get past the guard post of goblins.

“Hey Karlach, you wanna go scare our way in again?”

She grins all mean and smacks her fist into her palm. “Aces.”

***

She does, in fact, scare y’all in. Leaves one of the goblins wearing a smear of warg shit all over his face—he started it, so you don’t feel that bad. The trail is muddy, everything smells like acrid piss, and then a fucking voice shoots down outta the sky to thunderclap inside your skull.

It knocks you to your knees. Overwhelming pressure shoves you down. Squeezes your skull. You try to push up (Lae’zel got you to three push ups before she gave up on you), but a new wave comes crashing down and tries to shove your face into the dirt.

Someone curses behind you. The crew is down, too. What—

A voice. Loud. Consuming. A woman? She’s saying something, but you’re seeing flashes of something, of people?

The Absolute, you realize. You know it, like you know your own name or you know you got ten toes. This is the Absolute calling to you, pulling you, forcing you.

She bursts open your head like stepping on a grape. Bursts the others, and you can feel them, too. Stranger thoughts, alien ones.

Mostly panic. This is it. It’s got you. A ghaik enslavement. A foreign goddess. No, no gods not again not again you got away from him—

Your mother standing over you, you all half-naked and crouched on the cement floor with everybody watching, everybody knowing and you grovel outright, the shame clogging your throat, blinding your eyes—

The rage snaps like a trigger. Like an eruption. Hot fury blasts up, shattering fear and panic in a raw, churning plume blowing up the surrounding mental landscape.

No.

No.

Fuck that bitch and fuck them all, you’ll kill them, every last one of them and they ain’t gonna get you, not ever again, you will burn the farmstead to fucking ashes and then burn those ashes to fucking powder—

“Stop!”

A red light blasts through the crushing torment. Cuts through your rage—a flash in the periphery, startled, wary—and the new voice barrels into the Absolute. The pressure clears, the voice whispering before it cuts off completely.

You’re on the ground again. Arms shaking, knees knocking. You take some unsteady breaths and sit up as something flies outta Shadowheart’s bag to plop into your hand.

The fuck?

“Uh,” you say.

But when you turn, you’re getting weird looks. Lae’zel wears pure suspicion, laser-focused on Shadowheart. Who seems torn about something, though she keeps glancing to the spiky ball now in your hands. But the others…

Gale swallows. Blinks something down. “I believe we’ve just met this new goddess, then.”

Fucking bitch pig. Fucking asshole bitch pig.

“And we were saved by a relic of my people,” Lae’zel says, staring daggers at the back of Shadowheart’s skull.

The cleric stiffens.

But Gale cuts between them, as he’s low-key been doing the whole time. “Whatever it is, it just saved us from a psychic bombardment. We must be getting close to this Absolute, and its power will only grow stronger as we do. I have a grave suspicion that without that artifact, we’d be helpless as babes. Best put aside our difference before we sprout full ceremorphosis tentacles, yes?”

Both women stand there a moment. Only once something moves at Shadowheart’s side do you notice she’d grabbed the handle of her mace.

“Agreed,” she says. Gives a mean girl head tilt to Lae’zel. “Or are the gith so proud and blinded as to throw themselves unarmed at their enemy?”

If Lae’zel glared at you like that, your skin’d peel right off. She hisses (good god, your primate brain don’t like that at all) and nods. Once.

“Good. Now,” Gale says. “There’s a goblin camp and perhaps our salvation just ahead. Shall we?”

You let them all settle and set off again. You try to give the spiky ball back to Shadowheart, but she catches Lae’zel watching her like a dingo on a human baby, and shakes her head.

“It came to you,” she says. “You keep it.”

An uninvolved third party. Cause that’s what you wanna be right now.

You pull out your pack to shove the thing in there—the fuck is it? A toy? A music box? A puzzle to summon skin-flaying BDSM demons?

Wyll sidles up as you’re cinching the pack shut again. He’s got something soft in his face when he looks at you.

It immediately lifts your hackles.

“Was that your mother?” he says.

Your mind blanks. Everything goes flat and still, because this? This ain’t happening.

(Your brains were connected.)

Those memories are your own, private shit show and you don’t share.

(They saw.)

You ain’t never told Sasha all of it.

(They saw.)

You ain’t never told any therapist all of it.

(NO.)

“Who was what?” you say.

Karlach stares, too. Her eyebrows crunch together.

“That vision. Or memory,” Wyll says. “I…I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”

Oh, you seen this before. Especially in them early days, when you’d be telling some story and kinda laughing about it, but then you’d look over and catch that face, right there. The veiled horror. The goddamn sympathy. The look of somebody who found a mangy, broken stray on the side of the road, only this dog’s too mean and it keeps trying to bite.

The fuck they’re gonna look at you like that.

You keep your expression loose, your own brow slightly wrinkled—totally in puzzlement and not at all in panic and terror.

“What vision?” you say. “I saw them three people that voice was all attached to? Them fucking…disciples or whatever?”

How much did they see? You felt Lae’zel’s queasy dread, the utter failure that swallowed her when that seemed the end.

Wyll pauses. He’s gonna say something. You know it. But then he just folds whatever it was back underneath a rueful smile. “It must have been part of the attack, then. Think nothing of it.”

And you almost believe him. The way he relaxes. The softness of his eyes. It’s all Wyll, dashing and kind.

But you didn’t get out by believing, and part of you whispers: he knows, they all do, fuck, fuck.

You can’t show that, though. You’re gonna brazen it out come hell or high water.

“Druid rescue, huh?” you say.

And that gets Karlach going again, too. They shuffle off after the others, and you sling your pack up over your shoulders.

You know he’s still standing there. Hasn’t moved or said nothing. But you can feel him watching, so you summon your best bored face (which you been told by a lot of people it looks extra bitchy) and turn.

You don’t say nothing, either. Just watch him watching you. Raise one eyebrow.

Astarion looks…strange. Maybe that’s just his version of thoughtful. It ain’t Bitch or Gripe or Flirt. You ain’t even sure he knows he’s doing it. There’s something different in it, different than all the other times he’s ever looked at you.

He still don’t say a goddamn word. Finally, you lift your arm in an “after you” gesture, and his face buttons back up. He sets off after the others.

And that is entirely too much being perceived for you. Makes your damn skin crawl.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[abyssalpeach]

up against the ropes (a matcha blossom fic). rated e. also on ao3.

"Are you sure you don't have a concussion?" Kojiro's voice lowered to a hoarse whisper.

"Positive."

a/n: i promise this started out totally normal and achingly tender before the brain worms whispered The Unholy Headcanon to me. pls forward this to my lawyer for when they come to take me away to horny jail.

anyway cheers to posting fic on tumblr again because somebody around here needs to start clogging the mb tag

Life was slowly returning to normal after the fateful S tournament where Langa had thoroughly whooped Ainosuke’s ass at his own game and Kaoru came out the other end seriously injured.

He had sustained a sprained ankle, a minor concussion, and the big one: a hairline fracture to his wrist.

He’d been lucky enough through the years to be a skilled and precise enough skater to avoid most injuries that would impede his work, but his luck had to run out eventually. Kaoru was honestly surprised it took even this long. He was not immune to bailing every once in a while.

But now his skating had massively affected his income for the first time in his entire adult life. It was a good thing he was self-employed and in an artistic profession where he could make his own rules and use art block as an excuse to push a deadline a little, but it didn’t stop him from feeling uncomfortable with it.

His injuries on the other hand, were harder to explain away when they were so visible. He had to come up with an excuse at some point, and for someone with as much pride and poise as Kaoru, a nasty spill down the stairs was simply not a believable reason.

So, he told the truth. At least, as much of it as he was comfortable telling. He fell off a skateboard. Whether they inferred that he was a novice and simply trying to entertain one of his young relatives was none of his concern. They could think what they like.

He would’ve rather said that he’d gotten hit by a car, but it would surely look suspicious if he wasn’t involved in any kind of investigation or trial afterwards. Best to stick as close to the real story as possible and let people draw their own conclusions.

People were surprisingly generous with him during his time of injury. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised, but his clientele always struck him as being fairly rigid. That’s why he took out all of his piercings and did his best to compartmentalize the different areas of his life. The resistance he was expecting to be met with when he was forced to push back dates for demonstrations and signing events was practically non-existent.

These things happen, they would say, as if he wasn’t a twenty-something year old professional admitting to falling off a skateboard. The reactions had him questioning whether or not he needed to be so cautious with his presentation and reputation after all.

There were too many things going on in his life that he was second-guessing now. Nothing was what it seemed to be anymore and he’s not entirely sure what to make of it. Kaoru spent so much time doing calculations, statistics, risk assessments, and not even the data could support the litany of weird shit he was enduring the past few months.

He really had come to terms with the fact that he was always going to be a little bit in love with Kojiro. He was always the nurturing sort, but he’d never gotten to experience it to that degree before. They spent every waking hour together for three whole weeks and somehow hadn’t killed each other yet.

Kaoru knew he was a needy person, and a jealous one at that. If he took it out on Kojiro unnecessarily sometimes, he was met with retaliation, and rightly so. He just couldn’t help himself. Kojiro could slut himself out to whoever he chose, but Kaoru would be damned if any of those women received the five-star treatment from Kojiro that he got.

No one could rile Kojiro up like he could. No one could critique Kojiro’s cooking like he could. No one could understand Kojiro like he could. Sure, they may have his bed for a night if they were lucky, but Kaoru held onto Kojiro’s heart with a vice grip and wouldn’t relinquish it for anything.

If Kaoru was going to be forced to live a life without enduring romance or marriage, he would make sure Kojiro was too. They were in this together, god dammit, they had been since they were in fucking kindergarden. They’ve done everything together for decades, that wasn’t about to change.

Maybe it wasn’t the best mentality for him to have, actually he knew it wasn’t, but he couldn’t exactly talk himself out of his own feelings. Lord knows he’s tried to do that enough times over the years. A crush on his straight best friend and the biggest fuckboy in town. It was so embarrassing.

It was honestly kind of sick, this game that he’s been playing with Kojiro in his own mind. Maybe he just liked the thrill of the chase or always wanted things he couldn’t have and wouldn’t even know what to do if he got what he wanted, but these thoughts remained in the back of his mind throughout the years and all their petty squabbles. Life changes, but Kojiro never does.

He really needed to be less selfish. It’s not as though he deserved Kojiro’s kindness. The man has surely spent an ungodly amount of money throughout the years just to feed him. He probably writes it off as a business expense on his taxes, the damned fool.

“You’re my taste tester,” Kojiro rationalized. “I shamelessly use your discerning palette and instead of paying you in money, you would rather be paid in carbonara. You’re doing me a service.”

He’d do him a service alright. Glorious idiot.

It was a special kind of torture sharing space with him for so long. Waking up to breakfast in bed, afternoons spent doing nostalgia rewatches of their favorite stupid childhood shows, elaborate dinners, being bathed by him. It was… intimate. There really was no other word for it. Every night they parted ways after Kojiro had diligently washed his hair and dragged a soapy cloth across his back, every night he expected the tension to get the better of them, and every night Kojiro eased Kaoru into bed and excused himself to the couch.

And that was it. The cast and splint came off and Kojiro went home. His entire routine had been disrupted now. He had gotten used to all of the attention and care. And they still hadn’t killed each other. That part continued to baffle him. He didn’t feel smothered. Kojiro wasn’t sick to death of his neurotic behavior. If anything, he felt closer to Kojiro than ever before. It was like there was a seismic shift in the earth under him and he was, what? Expected to go back to how things were before? Fat chance.

He was able to repeat the same movements as before, going to Sia la Luce after he finished up with clients for the day, going to S together, working on improvements for Carla well into the night before passing out under the kotatsu. But something was missing. Big surprise, it was Kojiro. He hardly needed Carla to spell that one out for him.

It’s later than usual by the time he arrives at Sia la Luce, the lights in the dining room are already off, save for the ones above the counter he’s claimed as his own. The door is unlocked, but Kojiro is nowhere in sight.

He wanders into the kitchen to see if there’s something in the cooler worth raiding, but he finds his best friend casually sitting on the floor.

“Oh, hey. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” Kojiro brings the bottle of whatever he’s drinking up to his mouth.

“That’s alright, I was overstepping my boundaries anyway.”

Kojiro lets out a thunderous laugh. “I hardly have boundaries when it comes to you, but good of you to own up to it.”

“Shut up, asshole,” he laughs. It’s a bit awkward. They need to have a serious conversation for once, and they both know it. “By the way, I... wanted to thank you.” Kaoru avoided his gaze, weight shifting between his feet.

Kojiro simply stared, not sure he was hearing that correctly. Kaoru continued, “For taking care of me.”

That seems to please him. “Somebody’s gotta do it. Not like Carla can carry you to bed.”

“Oh, fuck off. I’m trying to be nice.”

“You could certainly stand to do it more often, considering how much I feed you.”

Kaoru smiles softly, gaze dropping to his feet. “What are you doing on the floor anyway?”

“Having a beer, obviously. Want one?” Kaoru shook his head, moving to join him on the floor. He continued, “It was just a long day. Feet hurt.”

“Chairs too sophisticated for neanderthals now?” It almost sounded like a pet name.

“Is work going alright? How’s your wrist?”

“I’m fine, Kojiro. You don’t need to worry after me, you know.”

“Somebody should.” His answering smile is almost sad.

Silence fell heavily between them. Carla could never give him this. Ainosuke certainly never did. It was just Kojiro. Always Kojiro. “Would it be weird to say that I miss you?”

“I hope not, because I miss you too.”

“We should do something. See a movie, maybe.”

“We should. A movie sounds great actually, there’s one I was kinda wanting to see.” Kojiro pulls his phone out and is looking up showtimes, forwarding him a link to the trailer as he goes. It doesn’t look half bad for an action movie. It looks fun and fairly mindless, as they tend to be.

It’s a bit late and they’ve missed the last showing of the night, but they make a plan to go tomorrow. They settle back into their companionable, if slightly awkward, silence. Kojiro nurses his beer and Kaoru steals glances at his large hands, veiny and strong. His motions are not his own as he reaches for one and holds their palms up together, noting the difference in size.

Kojiro’s hands have always been a morbid fascination of his. He just likes to suffer, apparently. They’re large, but dextrous, with a couple prominent veins down the back. There’s some hair there now, not much, but it certainly wasn’t there when they were younger. What’s always been there is the smattering of freckles. Loathe as he is to admit it, he loves when Kojiro gets really tan and the freckles come out even more.

Kojiro’s hands have a couple burns on them and are a bit calloused from all the cooking and skating and working out. It almost makes him wish his own hands had half as much character. They’re soft and slender, not even particularly masculine, just generic. The only noteworthy thing about his hands is what they’re able to create.

Perhaps in this moment, he could use his hands to express the depth of his feelings to Kojiro. Something to avoid having to say it out loud.

Kojiro is watching their hands with rapt attention, his eyes soft but… pained? Before Kaoru can get the wrong idea about Kojiro rejecting him in that moment, he finds their fingers laced together. He’s never felt so warm.

“Kaoru…”

His face is so close. Kaoru can feel his warm breath on his cheek. He can feel his own blush. He dares a look into Kojiro’s eyes and finds everything he could’ve ever hoped for, but was too scared to imagine.

“Are you sure you don’t have a concussion?” Kojiro’s voice lowered to a hoarse whisper.

“Positive.”

Kojiro’s hand was in his hair, bringing him close to brush their lips together, breathing him in before sealing his mouth over his. A pathetic noise rose from Kaoru’s chest, barely escaping his throat. Kojiro wanted to swallow it. Their hands were everywhere, tangled in hair, tracing along faces, scrambling at arms and shoulders.

They kiss just long enough for reality to sink in, pulling back with startled gasps.

He supposes astonishment is the best adjective to describe the look Kojiro gives him now. His own expression surely isn’t much different. But Kojiro raises their entwined hands to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to the back of his hand.

“Are you hungry,” he asks, as if they haven’t just crossed a line they hadn’t dared tread in the twenty years they’ve known each other. Kaoru nods slowly before letting his forehead rest against Kojiro’s.

“I’ll make your favorite,” his voice is a low rumble, sending shivers down Kaoru’s spine. Kojiro’s knees give an ominous crack when he rises from the floor, making him groan and Kaoru chuckle quietly.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when you get carpal tunnel. Don’t forget you’re next, pinky,” his smile is more disarming than ever, with hand outstretched to assist him off the floor. Kaoru takes the proffered hand, but not without getting in a jibe of his own.

“Maybe if you spent a little less time doing squats…”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not checking out my ass.” Kojiro’s laugh is thunderous when he sees Kaoru floundering for a comeback, knowing he’s been busted.

The rest of the evening passes without any more shocking revelations. Mostly it’s just… normal. There might be marginally less bite to their bickering and the glances they exchange might be a bit more tender, but it’s far from unusual. It’s familiar, and he knows that he’s safe, no matter what that kiss will mean for their relationship when tomorrow comes.

He waits next to the front door while Kojiro finishes locking up. The night air is crisp, the breeze cool instead of warm – a sign that the weather is about to turn from scorching heat to mild and temperate. They may not have seasons in the traditional sense, but it’s not as though it can be hot all the time.

Kojiro walks him home, gentleman that he is. Kaoru would read into it if this wasn’t already part of their routine. A routine they’re so entrenched in that they part ways with a “see you tomorrow” and a friendly wave. No fanfare, no trepidatious kiss to the cheek, nothing.

It’s disappointing really.

He’s mostly on autopilot as he readies himself for bed, thoughts consumed by what tomorrow might bring, mixed in with visions of that tender kiss. His toothpaste foams at the corner of his mouth and the blush sits high on his cheeks. He looks insane.

What kind of giddy teenager has he turned into? He’s a grown man , he should not be so affected by a simple kiss that happened an hour and a half ago.

He hunkers down into his futon and tries to shake it off.

His dreams are of crimson eyes, so soft, and lips that are even softer.

*****

They decide to just meet up at the movie theater since Kojiro bought their seats ahead of time. He tried to pay him back, but Kojiro refused.

God, it was like a real date and they were fighting over the stupid check.

He’s wearing pants for a change. Well, they’re still hakama, he isn’t being too adventurous, but he did pair it with a black halter top. He really ought to wear these pants more. They’re a light sage green color and decorated with small white flowers. He knows they look good with his hair and the fabric feels downright sensual against his skin.

When Kojiro rounds the corner, he doesn’t spot Kaoru right away, giving him a chance to drink his fill of the sight of him. He’s got his black bomber on this time, the one with the leather sleeves that he typically only wears for special occasions.

He’s so fucked.

When they do finally lock eyes, Kojiro’s entire face lights up and strides over to meet him. He does not miss the appreciative way he looks Kaoru up and down. He shifts on his feet, unaccustomed to Kojiro being so brazen with him.

“You look great!” He’s honestly such a child, he’s so giddy. It’s charming as hell.

They head into the theater, making small talk along the way. It’s not often they have time off that lines up, but Kojiro closes early on Sundays and doesn’t reopen until Tuesday.

Kojiro spent his day tidying up around the house and planning menus. Kaoru mostly spent his day fussing over his hair and worrying about tonight, not that he would divulge that particular bit to Kojiro. Instead, he claims to have spent his afternoon tending to Carla’s operating system. If Kojiro sees through the lie, he doesn’t say anything.

They’re early enough that the trailers haven’t started yet, so Kojiro stands in line to get them snacks while Kaoru uses this opportunity to visit the restroom. When he emerges, he finds Kojiro leaning just a tad too far over the counter, talking conspiratorially to the snack counter girl. Before he has the chance to get upset though, Kojiro waves him over with a grin so dopey that it rivals one of the seven dwarves.

Kojiro hands him the sour candies he favors so much and pushes off from the counter. He’s got his own popcorn in one hand and the other draped casually over his shoulders as he walks them to their seats.

“Who was that,” Kaoru inquired, hopefully not sounding too jealous.

“Oh, that was one of Rini’s old friends! Haven’t seen her since she was like eleven years old!”

Rini was one of Kojiro’s younger sisters. He hopes his sigh of relief isn’t too noticeable.

They settle into their seats while Kojiro rambles on about Rini’s friend and how she’s getting ready to graduate and move to Tokyo, where Rini has been for the past year. The way Kojiro talks about the people in his family and their circle around them has always left Kaoru jealous. Not in the sense that he wants to be the only one in Kojiro’s life, but wishing he had something like that to call his own.

His parents weren’t exactly the warm and nurturing type, often keeping Kaoru at a distance. No matter how hard he rebelled as a teenager, nothing seemed to make them pay attention. They’d pay for anything else though: toys, skateboards, a car, tuition. Anything to get him off their back.

It had to be why he gravitated towards Kojiro so much. Just being in the Nanjo house, crowded and messy though it often was, there was love and family to be found there.

Kaoru really needed to get a grip. It’s not like Kojiro would be flirting with someone while they’re literally on a date. If that’s what this even is. Surely it must be. The movie plans predicated the kiss, but it was a pretty straight fucking line from A to B. There was definitely a charged undercurrent to this little outing.

Kaoru squirms in his seat, sneaking glances over at Kojiro’s form next to him. Don’t ask him what’s going on in the movie because all he knows is that Kojiro’s body language is open, but his hands are clutching his popcorn container. He offers it to Kaoru wordlessly, getting in his space and leaning over the armrest. He allows himself to indulge, but it’s not the popcorn he indulges in, it’s Kojiro’s proximity.

They remain close for the rest of the movie, still in their own seats and occasionally shifting to a more comfortable position, but their bodies lean towards each other like magnets. Sometimes Kojiro will whisper something to Kaoru and earn them a shush from someone behind them, making Kaoru outright giggle.

Everything is always funnier when you’re not supposed to be talking or laughing. It reminds him of high school, though usually he was the one getting Kojiro into trouble rather than the other way around.

Life has changed around them. They’re practically whole new people now, but through all their evolutions, they can’t shake each other. They always go together, balancing each other out perfectly.

He wonders if this new development of their relationship will throw a wrench into it all. Much as he wants this, he doesn’t know what he’d do without Kojiro. That’s his best friend. No one in the world knows him better. Maybe they’ll be okay.

In fact, he’s all but sure of it now.

The credits come sooner than either of them expects, and they slowly put themselves to rights and clean up their trash. They wander lazily towards the exit, probably holding up the people behind them.

It’s warmer outside than it was the previous night. The breeze blows through his hair, and it has Kaoru feeling wistful. He takes in a deep breath and looks up at the stars. Neither of them has anything left to say, really. They just stand there in companionable silence, wondering what comes next.

Kaoru looks over to Kojiro, and you’d think he never looked away from the sky for how starry his gaze looks. Kojiro steps close, gingerly tucking a loose hair back behind Kaoru’s ear. He has to take a steadying breath.

“Why don’t you stay at mine tonight,” Kojiro asks.

Unsure whether his voice will come out normal or not, he gives only a curt nod. “I brought the bike,” Kaoru gestures to the Carla motorcycle, trying to get his blush under control, “it’s right over there.”

Kojiro climbs on the back of the bike, legs spread wide and inviting. Kaoru slides between him and the handlebars, turning the ignition. Kojiro lets his hands fall to Kaoru’s waist and he scooches himself even further up. If he feels like he’s being smothered now, he has no idea how he’s going to make it through the rest of the night. The engine roars to life, creating encouraging vibrations beneath them.

Kaoru’s sense of urgency to get them back to Kojiro’s place is only heightened when his hands creep up his ribcage and back down to his hips. They get stopped by a light and Kojiro takes his opportunity to pull Kaoru’s hips even further into his own and drop a hot kiss to where his neck meets his shoulder.

The sound of the bike drowns out much of the obscene moan he lets out, for which he is grateful. They need to get home now.

They’re only a block or so away and Kojiro’s forehead is pressed between his shoulder blades as he tries to calm his breathing.

What feels like mere moments later, he pulls up outside Kojiro’s building and kills the engine. For all the build up, the two are frozen in place, still slotted against each other. This is it. Kojiro steps off the bike first, his hand coming into Kaoru’s line of vision. Their eyes connect and Kaoru can’t help but smirk. Kaoru puts his hand in Kojiro’s and lets himself be pulled from the bike. He doesn’t let go of Kojiro’s hand, even as he fishes through his pockets for his keys.

Once they finally make it into Kojiro’s apartment, they’re immediately reaching for each other. The kiss is explosive and they greedily paw at each other’s clothes. Kojiro’s jacket doesn’t even make it past the genkan. Kaoru’s hakama are hastily discarded so Kojiro can hoist him into the air, legs wrapping around his bulky frame. He sucks relentlessly on Kojiro’s lips and tongue, digging his fingers into his shoulders.

The pleased noises Kojiro makes are sure to haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Kojiro steers them into his bedroom, dropping Kaoru gracelessly onto the bed. He wriggles out of his jeans and Kaoru grabs a fistful of his shirt, yanking him down on top of him.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, rolling and writhing together, not an inch of space between them.

Kaoru grabs two handfuls of his plump ass, grinding their hips together in a way so filthy that it has Kojiro practically choking for air. “Kaoru, fuck.” They’re both so hard, panting so heavily into each other’s mouths and they haven’t even gotten to the main event. Kojiro extracts himself from Kaoru long enough to grab the condoms and lube from his side table. Kaoru takes the moment to adjust his ponytail higher on his head and snatches the supplies right from Kojiro’s hands.

“Lay down,” his tone leaves no room for argument and Kojiro scrambles up to the headboard to heed him. “Good boy,” he praises before peeling him out of his boxer briefs and taking every impressive inch of him into his mouth.

He doesn’t even ease Kojiro into it, he’s too greedy. He’s immediately taking him all the way to the back of his throat and hollowing out his cheeks, groaning at the taste.

“Jesus fuck, Kaoru, take it easy,” he cries out, head thrown back. “I’m gonna blow my load before we even get to it.”

“Don’t tell me that your reputation is all bullshit.”

“Hey, give me a break! I’ve waited a long time for you, okay,” he runs his fingers through the ends of Kaoru’s ponytail.

“I’d hardly call that ‘waiting,’ you slept with everyone who fluttered their eyelashes in your direction.” Kaoru rips at the condom package and rolls it on, firmly placing the bottle of lube into Kojiro’s hand. He swings a leg over him, straddling his hips with another filthy grind.

“Of course you even wanna fight during sex,” he laughs into Kaoru’s mouth, pulling him down for a kiss, “can’t believe I expected anything less.”

“Yeah, shame on you,” Kaoru slips his tongue into Kojiro’s open mouth as he sinks a slick finger into his ass. The pressure punches a sharp moan from him, but he quickly relaxes into it, rocking his hips back into Kojiro’s hand.

Kaoru spends the next minutes sucking at every bit of skin he can get his mouth on. He wants to devour Kojiro, leave him without a shadow of a doubt who he belongs to. Kaoru drags the flat of his tongue over one of Kojiro’s nipples, keeping direct eye contact and giving it a few more kitten licks until Kojiro is a restless mess beneath him. He finally, finally sinks back onto Kojiro’s fat cock with a firm nip to his chin. He sits back on his haunches with a luxuriant roll of his neck. He can practically feel him in his throat. “Fuck, you’re huge.”

“God, Kaoru, you can’t say stuff like that,” he is clearly fighting for his life down there, “not if you want me to last.”

Kaoru can’t help but chuckle darkly, “Come on, big boy, I know you can do better than that.” Kojiro thrusts up harshly in retaliation. He takes that as an invitation to start moving, swiveling his hips, grinding down and getting used to the feeling of Kojiro inside of him. Kojiro presses his fingers into the meat of his thighs harshly as they sink into a rhythm.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Kojiro praises.

He wonders how many people he’s called that.

Maybe they should be going slower. Really relishing in the fact that they’re finally doing this after all this time.

Fuck that actually. They’ve waited long enough. They have all the time to go slow later. Now? Now they can be rabid and ravenous, biting and grabbing at each others’ flesh. That’s more their style anyway.

Kojiro throws his head back with a delicious groan. Kaoru only picks up the pace, riding him like it’s his fucking job.

“Kaoru, Kaoru, Kaoru…”

God, he could get used to this. He intends to get used to this, to Kojiro’s enormous body entwined with his, warming his bed, his moans, making his eyes roll back in his head just like that.

Kaoru whips his hair to the other shoulder and brings their mouths together again, panting heavily into each other’s mouths, touching foreheads damp with sweat.

“Kaoru… I’m not gonna last, Kaoru.”

He pours a kiss into his mouth. “Give it to me, Koji. Cum.”

He does what he’s told for a change. Liquid white heat runs through his body and seeps into his veins. Kaoru comes long and thick on Kojiro’s heaving chest, having an out-of-body experience or maybe ascending to a higher state of being.

He watches himself take one slender finger and drag it through his mess.

He marks Kojiro with a singular kanji, drawing it right there on his chest.

Mine.

Mine.

It’s so base of him. And certainly petty. He watches understanding dawn on Kojiro’s face and he worries he’s gone too far.

No. He needs to know.

“No one else.” He leaves no room for argument.

“There never was anyone who could live up to you anyway.” Kojiro agrees all the same, tucking a loose strand of pink hair back behind Kaoru’s ear.

He relaxes and drapes himself along Kojiro’s side, legs still tangled together. Their breathing slowly returns to normal and Kaoru can’t help but smell him. He needs to burn this into his memory in every conceivable way.

Kojiro shifts like he means to get up and start cleaning them off, but Kaoru grips his large bicep and effectively pins him with his gaze.

They can clean up in the morning. For now, they just let it sink in.

[fushiglow]

Me: 'aw no i shouldnt read a fic set in the music industry, it'll get me sad about abandoning my own dreams; nope nuhuh, apologies, moving on' -> fast forward a few weeks -> i see ur fic pop up every now n then on both ao3 n tmblr, tempting me to read it -> fast forward again, it's tday -> i end up caving in eventually when i see it on my dash again; checked out the first chapter while having lunch earlier. Got H o o k e d by ur narrative. And so i inhaled two more chaptrs a sec ago while commuting back home aaaaand lil old me proceeded to be WILDLY inspired by ch4 shenanigans and immediately i >Needed< to relisten to the Liszt performance, seeing it anew yet again, and then also dug up some soundtracks i made once upon a time when id been fooling around w the idea of expressing myself thru music -> fast forward again, im home now, n getting all giddy ab it, cheeks flushed n feeling alive, i tell u - im about to dust my piano n just smash at the keys for the till-now-abandoned fun of it, first time in forever. (It won't be good, but it'll be real, it'll be me.) I just. I feel the raw emotion in your fic and it made my heart pound while reading it. You >get it< jfc. (Also satosugu n others work So Well in ur story, so in character, u make it look so natural, as if jjk had always been ab music production and not a grimdark shounen). I only just finished the 4th chapter and im not caught up yet, but i couldnt have waited to tell u my thoughts so. There goes!! ((Also even months later im still deeply wounded by canon so i feel like im irrevocably dysregulated when it comes to engaging w satosugu haha, apologies if i come off strong. U just combined two passions of mine into one fic and im feeling So Fucking Grateful i wanna kiss u on the forehead and bless u for seven generations forward. Again - i havent yet finished what u've already dished out (bless ur soul for posting ur work holyhell) so ima come back when i have more unhinged thoughts as i read. Your writing is so On Point i can't contain myself (my heart is singing w joy because when i connect w the writing style i connect HARD. And lemme tell u, your style is both intense and light and professional and that's my fav combo, ima go n cry over my piano now bye. Until next time, ily sm) (also sorry about this longass ask, it was meant to be a oneliner but it got away from me bc.. Emotions, damn) -royce

Oh... Um...

Excuse me while I fucking cry over MY piano, what the actual fuck 😭 I think this is the biggest compliment I could possibly receive, you have NO FUCKING IDEA how happy it makes me to read that my fic inspired you to sit down at the piano again, holy shit???

cheeks flushed n feeling alive, i tell u - im about to dust my piano n just smash at the keys for the till-now-abandoned fun of it, first time in forever. (It won't be good, but it'll be real, it'll be me.)

I am sobbing and kicking my feet all at once at this image, I love you I love you I love you. Please tell me, how did it go?? Did you have fun? Did it feel good? God, I hope it did!!! 😭

I started writing this fic to heal some of my own hurt about leaving a career in music behind, so I'm writing this for people like you and me. You're my ideal reader and you couldn't POSSIBLY come off too strong. PLEASE come back with your unhinged thoughts, I will gladly scream with you about this — in fact, I'm desperate to do exactly that!

Royce, you're everything. Thank you so much for all your lovely words about my writing too, this soothes all of my doubts about deciding to post something so deeply self-indulgent all those months ago. This is for YOU 🫶

as if jjk had always been ab music production and not a grimdark shounen

Also, what do you mean? That's what it's about, isn't it? 👀

[commanderquinn]

realized hey i never got around to making graphics or posting my list for kinktober so!!!

why not now lmao

this list is up for grabs!! fell free to use whatever bits for inspo you want babes

Here's the quick link to the ao3 collection

if you’re at all familiar with my ao3, you know my fic Good Space that im starting a lil i guess au around. (i STILL havent figured out how to categorize that damn thing lmao at this point i just call it the comfort smut)

its intended as an MCU bucky!femreader but bc its Long i needed to Name Her. since i knew i was planning on writing some steve!reader fics while getting back into fandom writing, i figured why not tie it all onto one universe, fuck it. let ppl decide which boyfriend sim fic they liked best 😂

some of these i already know will end up being their own little mini series of degeneracy. what can i say, i have no self control ✌️😔

i was initially going to use this mostly as an excuse for testing out the mobile version of photoshop (spoiler, its…. getting there) but then i gave up by the time i finished the bucky section. anyhow heres that until i get around to real graphics probably sometime after i finish all the fics

as you can see, we’re breakin this shit up into themes. the big main one is bucky/ava days, then steve/paige, then bucky/steve/ava/paige, despite me being too frustrated w mobile photoshop to actually make those last two images lmao

ill come back for it EVENTUALLY i aint worried abt it 😂

anyhow here is the full list of all 31 days!! this post will act as a masterlist from here on, and if y'all got any questions you're free to toss 'em at me <3

Kinktober '23

Bucky/Ava:

1st. Distracted Sex & Competence Kink 2nd. Lingerie Kink & Public Stimulation 3rd. Cockwarming & Ownership 4th. Agorophilia & Dirty Dancing 5th. Breeding Kink & Phone Sex 6th. Safeword Usage & Brat Taming 7th. Somnophilia & Sound Kink 8th. Forced Orgasm & Mirror Sex 9th. Domestic Kink & Extended Roleplay 10th. Authority Kink & Strip Tease 11th. Zelophilia & Agrexophilia 12th. The G-Man: B-Sides 13th. Car Sex & Primal Play 14th. Corruption Kink & Pictophilia 15th. Uniform Kink & Exhibitionism 16th. Consensual Noncon & Medical Kink

Steve/Paige:

17th. Body Worship & Edible Paint 18th. Spitkink & Brontophilia 19th. Accidental Stimulation & Clothed Sex 20th. Sensory Deprivation & Waxplay 21st. Face Sitting & Femdom 22nd. Ruined Orgasm & Overstimulation 23rd. Cock Ring & Masturbation Instruction 24th. Restraints & Object Insertion 25th. Window Sex & Dumbification 26th. Voyeurism & Obsession Roleplay

There’s only 3 braincells and the doctor is holding all of them:

27th. Sharing Kink & Orgasm Control 28th. Praise Kink & Impact Play 29th. Group Role Play & Uniform Kink 30th. Humiliation Kink & Bukkake 31st. Consensual Noncon & Fuck To Survive