#Instead claiming that he just doesn't know better

[captain-huggy-bear]

Super quick thoughts on how each of these players would respond to some guy being handsy/creepy towards you in a bar

Quinn Hughes

Quinn's not the most possessive or confrontational guy, he's pretty chill in general, but there's one thing he'll never tolerate and that's you being disrespected. He's not stepping in when the guy who's been eyeing you all night starts to try and get handsy with you because he's staking a claim, he's stepping in because he knows you're uncomfortable, because he can see that the guy keeps ignoring your words to him, the way you shoo him and shake your head. The way you tell him you're taken and not interested. It's the disrespect that has him stepping up because no one can get away with disrespecting his girl, just not happening.

He's casual about it, just shoves his way casually between the two of you, a light shoulder check to the guy who has to take a step back, he's almost confused by how casual it is, like he doesn't know what to do. Quinn turns his back to the guy, and focuses on you instead. The blatant disregard for the other man a signal all of its own.

"Hey, baby, you ready to go home?" You latch onto him so quick, head nodding in confirmation before he's ushering you calmly out of the bar like nothing ever even happened.

The truth is Quinn might not start fights over you, but he doesn't need to. He commands a room pretty easy and makes himself known and clear without the need to throw a punch. Who's going to try and challenge the very well known face of the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks in his own city? Half the bar would be on his side in an instant, lost cause for the other guy.

Jack Hughes

He's gone for five fucking seconds. He only went to go get your jacket from your friend so the two of you could leave, expecting that you'd be fine for the short stretch of time if he left you by the door. When he comes back some fucking asshole is leaning over you, invading your space while you practically try to burrow into the wall behind you.

He doesn't really think fucking twice when be taps Timo on the shoulder as he passes, a little head nod in your direction, before fully body checking the guy off of you. It takes one hard shove with his shoulder, a full contact whole side shoulder to hip shove, but the guy goes flying into a table, someone's beer flying all over him while Jack pushes his hair back out of his face.

"The fuck you think you're doing?" He's bolshier than he normally would be for a couple of reasons; 1) he's had a couple drinks, 2) Timo is stood behind him like a fucking brick wall, and 3) his girlfriend does not get treated like that by some random bum in a bar.

It doesn't actually matter if the guy wants to fight him or not, cause Jack wants to fight him and he's deliberately provocative until a punch is thrown and he has an excuse to swing back.

Later you'll tell him off for not leaving it and he'll spend the night marking your neck up all pretty in purple and red hickeys so the next guy knows better than to even look at you.

Luke Hughes

Luke likes to think he's a guy with a pretty cool head, he's not a fighter and he's not overly confrontational...although guys seem to want to fight him all the time because of his height. That's made him pretty good at defusing tension and avoiding fights, a skill he had to learn the moment he grew past 6ft. So when he sees the guy next to you at the bar start to lean into your space, he watches for a bit, trusts you to handle it.

You try to, he can see the way you shift away, the way you tell the guy to back up, that you're not interested, but he just doesn't seem to get the hint. It's when you physically put a hand up between the two of you and shove him back that Luke realises he's got to step in.

He's more of a redirection kind of guy, then a throw a punch kind of guy, so he's got his hands on your waist gentle lifting you off the stool and onto the next one, taking your space instead. Suddenly the guy has to lean around him to talk to you, but Luke's already striking up a conversation about the guy's Chiefs jersey and before you know it Luke's managed to extricate the two of you without even a raised word.

The only sign that anything untoward had even occurred was the tightness in Luke's shoulders as he leads you away, the preparedness to take that extra step if he has to. But, fuck he hates fighting, so he'll always try to make sure you're safe and comfortable without it if he can. He's gotten pretty good at it.

Clayton Keller

He's always got his eyes on you whenever you go out, it's a given. No matter where you are, no matter how many people are around he knows where you are and always has one eye on you to make sure you're okay, that you're comfortable.

Normally he'd be the one going up to the bar to get a drink for you, but he'd gone to the toilet and you must have gotten thirsty and decided to just go grab a drink yourself. When he finally see you at the bar, you're leaning as far away as possible from a guy clearly leering down at your breasts in your dress.

You're unable to get particularly far, trapped between the man and the bar top and Clayton doesn't really think twice about storming over. He barely thinks before shoving the guy hard enough to dislodge him from his position over you, sending the guy stumbling.

Clayton puts himself between you and the man, glaring at him despite being the shorter of the two. It doesn't really matter to him, this guy looks like he barely goes to the gym and Clayton spends all day every day playing an intense physical sport. He can fight. He's not shy about it either.

If they guy doesn't back up then Clayton's always ready to throw a punch for you. You're his girl and you don't deserve to be treated like that. By anyone.

Kiefer Sherwood

Kiefer's not shy about getting in another man's face for being a creep. It doesn't matter if it's you being treated like that or some random woman he doesn't know. He spends most of his days on the ice, shoving guys into boards and throwing his gloves down on the ice. He has zero qualms about it then the douchebag in the bar tries to grab your ass on the way past.

The moment that hand snaps out to grab you, Kief's hand is grabbing the guys wrist and wrenching it so far back he hears a pop, letting it drop. He doesn't back down when the guy's friends start to get up, doesn't back down when one of them throws a punch, just rolls his sleeves up and gets to work after gently pushing you out the way towards your friend.

The truth is he comes away with a busted lip, some stitches in his brow and another missing tooth he's going to have to pay to get replaced, but he'll do it again, any time, because you're his girl and even past that you deserve to be treated with respect as a human. No one has the right to just touch you like that, not even he has the right to do that without your permission.

So yeah, you can wear what you want, do what you want, cause Kief can fight.

[ruleroftheimps]

I'm just going to throw this out here. Vox only seems as weak as he does because of his role in season one. All the Vees had a scene where they lost control and were just honestly pathetic, and a scene where they were cool and collected, but because of how it's set up, it looks like people completely overlook Velvette being pathetic and focus on Vox's patheticness. Which is fun to play around with, but I feel like a lot of people just don't acknowledge he's, in theory, a fairly decent threat, especially against the Hazbin Hotel. There's definitely going to be a reason he's one of the main antagonists.

It's sort of long, so cut here lol.

For starters, to back up my claim of they were all pathetic at some point, when we first meet Velvette, she's throwing a hissy fit about Val. He's literally right there, and yet she can't be assed to do anything about it and instead calls Vox to solve her problems for her, and then complains about Val ripping apart her models, despite her not doing anything. People love to riff on Val and Vox for being man children, which, yes, they are at times, but they completely disregard the fact that when we first meet Velvette, she's acting like a spoiled brat. Valentino is the same, throwing a fit about Angel Dust. They're all equally pathetic.

The thing is, Velvette and Valentino were glossed over fairly quick. Vox had a whole song about it.

The same thing about them all being equally cunning and collected, which I actually doubt myself. I think Vox is the most collected of them all, not Velvette. Yes, he did the same, basically had a temper tantrum when he found out Alastor came back, but it makes logical sense when we look at their interaction later and Vox is scared of him. He's worried. But once he calms down, he sits down and comes up with a plan that's actually very logical and well-thought out. Er, to some extent. Picking Pentious probably wasn't the greatest, but I think, based on the drones we see everywhere later on and his reaction to Pentious getting caught, Vox wasn't taking Valentino's idea of putting a spy in the hotel seriously. He's nonchalant, and has a backup plan. And the way he handled the paparazzi is a sign that he IS able to deal in high-stress situations with ease.

And no, that's not saying Valentino and Velvette don't have their moments. In Masquerade, Val's smart about how he approaches Charlie being there, and Velvette's extremely clever in Scrambled Eggs (Er, possibly. I doubt she and the other Vees didn't talk about it before hand and theorize then, and their goal was NOT to start a way but to gain info, but her noticing Carmilla's reaction was definitely a point for her.). But they're not more clever than Vox, they just get more screen time as actual villains, probably because of their roles in this season. Velvette's there explicitly to set up for the reveal Carmilla killed an angel, and Valentino's meant to be the main enemy of Angel Dust throughout the series to build his character. Vox? Well, right now we just need to know he exists and doesn't like Alastor, for future plot lines. And also comedic relief in episode 8, because, come on, almost everything he says in that episode is just funny. (And also emphasizing how much he hates Alastor/is obsessed with Alastor losing) And yeah, the pacing about introducing him could have been better, building him up to be a threat and then having Alastor take him down, but for 8 episodes, they did a fair job. And a part of me wonders if we're meant to overestimate Alastor and underestimate Vox, especially after the Adam fight.

And why I say he has the potential to be a big threat to the Hotel has to do with the scene we have when he's getting introduced, and what we see in Helluva Boss about Voxflix being on Blitzø's phone. He's everywhere, he has power over his viewers, and his grip on media is so tight, even Hellborns use his services. What's the Hotel's main issue at the moment? A lack of guests, which is at least in part caused by poor advertising. Anybody else think it's not coincidence the 'emergency broadcast' happened just as the Hotel's advertisement began to play?

Tl;dr, Vox is more powerful than people seem to believe, even if he's pathetic as all hell a lot during his limited screen time, probably mostly because he has no big role in the current season.

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Nu carnival markings ♦️

Yakumo

You'll have to ask a few times before you'll do anything. The only stipulation is no biting. He's so afraid his teeth will be too sharp. That he'll hurt you. That you'll hate him for it. So he leaves soft hisses until you give him those big puppy eyes he's weak to. Then he'll give you hickeys. Tiny ones that last maybe 3 days, and peppers them all over. He makes them easy to hide if you want, but he blushes every time he sees one.

Edmond

You have to BEG him to mark you. Eventually he will give in. You don't even have to be in the bedroom when your nagging finally makes him snap. He grabs your forearm tight, and brings your wrists up. Chomping down to leave a mean looking mark right on your pulse point. He sounds angry, scolding you for harassing a knight on duty, but you can see the slight pink on his ears as he suppresses a blush.

Olivine

Any marks he leaves on you are completely accidental. Mostly bruises from his fingertips. He's so strong that sometimes in the heat of the moment he can't help but grab a little too hard. If he sees the marks while you're still fucking he'll mumble dumbly about how beautiful they look on you. His voice reverent. Though if he notices them after, his post nut clarity will make him feel so guilty. He will kiss each one to make them feel better.

Quincy

He doesn't usually let himself get carried away enough to mark you. However, on the rare occasion that he does, you're going to have a massive bite mark on your throat. Not the meaty parts. I mean throat. One set of teeth on either jugular, with your windpipe in between. He loves it. You look so good bearing his mark. Like it fulfills something so primal and pure inside him. He'll leave bites in other places too. Convenient places where he doesn't get a chance to think before chomping down. Your shoulder, maybe your leg as it's hooked over his shoulder, your hand that was resting on his shoulder a moment ago…

Kuya

He will be that jerk who leaves a hickey right under your jawline. Super visible and impossible to hide. He does it to annoy you mostly. Now, if somehow he gives in to that urge to mark an actual claim on you, you won't notice him bite the base of your nape, but you'll feel it every time you move your head. A constant reminder, subtle as it is. He'll deny it means anything. Unfortunately the only ones who will know what it really means are Quincy and Karu, so he's a little cautious when they come around. Not that you notice the slight edge he gets because he hides it so well. He can't have you knowing just how much you mean to him.

Blade

He read in a book that people bite the crux of the neck and shoulder. So he does. Not hard, but with shark teeth like his it really doesn't take much to leave a deep mark. He likes watching hickeys turn colors on your skin. Says it's so pretty! And that the sounds you make are so cute! Of course he thinks it's cute. This is still Blade we're talking about.

Garu

Scratches all down your back. His teeth ache to sink into you, but he's so scared to hurt you. Instead leaving thin red marks like rivers on the landscape of your back. Maybe some on your chest. Or really anywhere that he grabs for purchase.

Karu

Anywhere he can. Seriously. It's part of his wolf nature to want to mark and claim his mate. Lots of bites of varying depth and location. Some are even hard enough to draw blood. He'll lick the wounds clean later, or at least Garu will. He's so proud when you walk around with his bites visible, and gets mad when you try to cover them up. Seriously, don't try to cover all of them unless you want him jealous and giving you more in spots you can't hide.

Dante

He won't leave any marks on you until he is smitten, but of course he will never admit it. So one day when he's sucking your fingers so he can watch you prep yourself, he just gives a little nibble. Okay, maybe not little. Hard enough to leave a deep imprint of his teeth around the base of your ring finger. He claims it means nothing, but every time he looks at it his stomach twists with the words he wishes he could say.

Rei

He doesn't really have a preference where he marks you. So for a while he'll mark multiple spots. See where you like it best. Eventually he does enjoy it. The way it makes you gasp and squirm. The way your fingers ghost over the marks for days after. Who would have thought something so small could get so many interesting reactions.

Eiden

Can't go wrong with a classic hickey on the collar bone! He's respectful enough to ask before leaving anything in a visible location, but once he gets permission he gets that fucking smirk on his face. He's so teasing with it. Licking and asking if this is where you want the next one. Going so agonizingly slow. Afterwards he massages the areas so it doesn't hurt as much. He likes the action of marking rather than the marks themselves.

Aster

Bites on the neck? I mean, yeah. That kinda comes with the territory of being a vampire. He's less territorial than some of the others, and says he doesn't care if you cover up his marks. While it's true he may not be as possessive as say Dante, Kuya, or Karu, he still gets fussy when you intentionally cover his bites. Makes him feel like you're rejecting him in an intimate way that he doesn't really understand or want to confront.

Morvay

He LOVES leaving hickeys on your upper inner thighs, and your lower stomach. Framing his favorite part of your body. He likes being the only one to see all the marks, but he also loves when your shirt rides up and he, and others, just get a tiny peek at the marks he left on you.

[buckybarnesss]

I just read the whole lawsuit in its entirety and no , he doesn't say that he did shit. She repeatedly held the film.hostage at various points saying she'll say stuff if they didn't listen to her terms. And to me that's shady af. If you were harrassed then say that . Don't bring it up every time you need to get your way.

Her lawyers fucked up big time. Even if she has a case they messed up her chances by being stupid. I don't get why women can't get good representation. Some of their wording is so off in her lawsuit. Wish she had better lawyers. Not saying I belive her or not. ... But her using the whole thing retrospectively is not good. And it looks like even if she was harrassed or not ( which from the lawsuit seems like not ) she was completely unprofessional as a hired actress that it's gonna affect her chances in future films. Again , I blame her pr team and lawyers for this. They should have seen this coming.

babe white knighting justin baldoni isn't the hill you wanna die on.

you say that if she was harassed than to say that. um bro that's what she IS saying. in the suit she filed claiming sexual harassment and providing detailed and specific examples.

you're not even addressing the very serious claims in lively's filing and that others also spoke up and filed complaints about his behavior on set instead deflecting to an argument over creative control.

holding the film hostage? where? you mean when she refused to return to work after finally getting a meeting to address the significant issues baldoni and heath had created during production?

you clearly don't believe her so get out of here with talking out both sides of your mouth with that non-committal "not saying i believe or not". you don't believe her and want to push the narrative that blake is some kind of egomaniac who wrested the control of the movie from poor, sweet baby angel justin.

say it with your chest.

anyway, let's take a look at some select examples of what is in blake's suit shall we? deadline has the whole pdf of blake's complaint that was filed.

.

that's not even half of them.

and what's baldoni doing other than not addressing any of these claims because he knows a lot of his terrible behavior was documented in the meeting where wayfarer (ie: baldoni and heath) agreed to blake's terms for returning to production?

saying nicepool was based on him because he's apparently the only podcast bro with a man bun in existence. releasing one behind the scenes video that's supposed to be some kind of "smoking gun". releasing texts were blake was cringe. trying to drag taylor swift into the whole ordeal. create a website to apparently refute blake's claims but it's just pdf's of the legal documents he has filed.

yes he has definitely not participated in a deliberate targeted campaign to deflect from his own shit by using DARVO tactics and he's definitely not trying to win in the court of public opinion as to discredit blake before this ever makes it to a courtroom /s

this is a man who has hid behind advocacy and sympathy for domestic abuse victims and claiming to be a feminist as he went back on the agreed terms of promotion to throw his female co-star under the bus as retaliation for holding him accountable for his shitty behavior.

another note: i'd like to thank oh no they didn't member sarahvma for posting about how baldoni and his billionaire buddy steve sarowitz were sued in 2021 for retaliation and discrimination. wayfarer settled this with an undisclosed amount but it adds to a pattern of behavior.

[amethystina]

Hello ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

I hope you’re doing better, both physically and mentally. I know you’ve been through a lot recently, and I truly hope you’re finding moments of peace and comfort in this difficult time.

I wanted to reach out because I usually connect with your thoughts on The Devil Judge, and I’m curious to see if we align on this perspective as well. I've noticed that many in the fandom view Yohan as being kinder and more selfless than he seems, believing he truly cares about people and their struggles. But from my perspective, it feels different. I think Yohan recognizes others' pains, but it doesn’t necessarily mean he empathizes deeply with them or feels much sympathy.

What do you think?

it’s always a pleasure to hear your thoughts.

May the rest of your day be filled with moments of calm and joy.

Hi there 💜

Unfortunately, I'm not doing the greatest but, well, that's sort of the norm right now? It could be worse, in all honesty. Me and my wife have some friends visiting from our university days, though, which is lovely! But that also means I'm going to be even more absent from here this coming week. Just a head's up.

Anyhow! Since I don't really read fics or metas for The Devil Judge I admit that I don't know what the consensus of the fandom is on any given subject. Except, perhaps, what I can glimpse in comments on my fics or in the asks I receive here on Tumblr. This means that whatever opinions I express are usually my own without influence from anyone else, which makes them very subjective, pretty limited, and, perhaps, not as well-rounded as if I had spent time discussing them with someone else. And I just want everyone to remember that whenever I answer one of these asks.

These are my opinions but I'm not going to claim that I'm right or that my thoughts are the only valid ones. They might, in fact, be spectacularly wrong since I never run them by anyone before I express them.

So, with that out of the way: Yo Han is not a kind man.

That's not to say that he's incapable of compassion or empathy, but his ability to relate to other people is, at the very least, severely stunted. I know that some think that he must have an antisocial personality disorder but, personally, I'm not comfortable diagnosing him with anything. I'm just not qualified to make that kind of assessment.

But what I can say is that he's definitely not a very considerate man.

But, as with all things Yo Han, the subject is a little more complex than that — and stems back to his childhood and past trauma.

To make a long story short, I think that Yo Han is emotionally mature and intelligent enough to recognise right from wrong. I also agree with you that he can see when people are in pain and, in some ways, probably relate to them. But what he actually does with that information depends entirely on who the person is and what scale we're talking about.

Because, as we see in the drama, Yo Han doesn't really care what happens to the people outside of his small, chosen circle. He was clearly shaken when Han So Yoon was kidnapped and K died, for example, but the unidentifiable mass of "the Korean people" doesn't interest him as much. Yo Han is incredibly loyal, yes, and capable of a fierce, all-consuming kind of love, but it's reserved for a selected few.

As for everyone else?

Not his problem.

And while that's pretty uncaring — ruthless, even — I think it's in part because of his childhood. He was so isolated that he can't really relate to people, only made worse by the fact that his mind probably doesn't work like most people's do. So even if he deeply loves someone, his empathy is still a bit patchy. He's used to pushing through pain and heartache and doesn't quite seem to understand that other people aren't — or at least not to the extent that he does it. Yo Han is a master at compartmentalising but doesn't understand that he's an outlier in that.

And so his ability to relate to people and understand their pain is severely limited. Because he's not working with the same variables as everyone else. Something that will barely faze him is enough to completely break someone else and despite being so clever, I don't think he understands that.

And it's even worse when you look at it on a wider scale. He's even less sympathetic when it's people he doesn't know personally and, quite frankly, I don't think he wants to care about nameless strangers. Yo Han protects and sympathises with the people closest to him — the ones he can see and touch and feel — but he doesn't waste emotional or mental bandwidth on everyone else. In some ways, he might not be capable of that. Because, again, the isolation he was put through as a child probably left quite a lot of scars and made him unable to connect with people in a healthy way.

He's not like Ga On, who genuinely cares about the fate of the common man and their country as a whole. I think that Yo Han sees the suffering and clearly doesn't mind doing a kind act here and there when he gets the opportunity — like donating the prison warden's money — but I still wouldn't call him a kind or a considerate man. He can be but also chooses not to be more often than not.

It doesn't come instinctively to him the way it does for Ga On.

Again, that's not to say that Yo Han doesn't know how to be kind — of course he does — but I don't think he views it the same way most people do. It's almost as if he thinks that kindness is a finite resource and therefore hesitates to waste it on people he doesn't care about on a personal level.

So no, I don't think he genuinely cares about other people's struggles and pain to the degree most people do. But it's not necessarily because he's evil or anything like that, but rather because he's so guarded. I've touched on it a couple of times in Who Holds the Devil, but I think that Yo Han is very cautious to reveal what he wants or admit when he cares about someone, simply because he's afraid of having it taken away or losing the person in question.

And if he were to care about every suffering citizen in South Korea the way Ga On does? I don't think Yo Han could handle that. I think he's shielding himself from that kind of commitment out of sheer self-preservation because every time he cares about someone, he leaves himself vulnerable for heartbreak. And he's not really equipped to deal with that heartbreak should it happen (again: emotionally stunted and childhood trauma)

In some ways, I think Yo Han is too scared to fully care about other people and, even when he does, he's always bracing himself for what he thinks is the inevitable pain of losing them.

But he does want to connect with people. Which means that he can probably learn to be more considerate of people he doesn't love on a personal level, but, again, I'm not sure if he wants to. At least not during the drama or even shortly after it. I think Yo Han is perfectly fine with being the way he is. He doesn't want to be a hero and has no interest in philanthropy — aside from how it might boost his reputation or, alternatively, punish those he thinks are behaving badly (like the prison warden).

But a couple of years down the line if he and Ga On are a couple? I think that Ga On could wear him down enough that Yo Han regularly donates to good causes and such. But Yo Han would do it more because he wants to indulge Ga On than out of any feeling of responsibility of his own. Because, when it comes down to it, I think Yo Han doesn't have any love and devotion to spare for the people outside his immediate circle. Taking care of them is difficult enough what with his upbringing and struggles to understand relationships.

Just like Yo Han says in the drama: I don't care if humanity falls as long as I have you two.

That's what he cares about most and even if he's capable of kindness and compassion, he saves it for the people he thinks matter. But even then I don't think he can empathise as deeply as most people would. Because he just doesn't understand that not everyone has his ability to compartmentalise and briskly deal with their emotions and trauma. I suspect that he thinks that Ga On is a bit too emotional a lot of the time. And even if Yo Han loves Ga On with every fibre of his being, he also thinks that Ga On's inability to control his emotions is both impractical and annoying — maybe even silly. Because Yo Han just doesn't get it.

He can't put himself in Ga On's shoes or understand that some people are just more emotional and need more frequent outlets for said emotions.

So yeah. I don't think that Yo Han is a particularly compassionate or considerate person, and he struggles to fully understand the people he loves, too. It's easier for him to be kind to them, at least, but he can't really empathise with them, either. But I would argue that it's not really his fault so much as a result of his childhood, all the trauma, and how he is a person. And it doesn't mean he's incapable of love or taking care of people — he's just very selective and, sometimes, he'll stumble because he doesn't understand what the fuck is going on x'D

In short: He's a disaster, your honour.

[seaweedstarshine]

Sometimes I think of Amy Pond, who grew up being called mad by those who wielded the word as a tool of exclusion and shame —

Amy Pond, who though forced into the hands of four psychiatrists, still clung to that which they called madness until those systems which elevate psychosocial conformity above humanity stripped it from her —

Amy Pond, whose imaginary friend reappeared for a single hour after twelve years and reignited that faith before disappearing for two more years —

Amy Pond, who spent those those two years under the same implicit threat ingrained in her through psychiatric violence, and thus began to believe the man who stopped the invasion was “just a madman with a box,” only for him to agree, and to also call her “mad, impossible Amy Pond,” reframing madness as non-negative for the first time in her life —

Amy Pond, who ignored the disembodied voice of her imaginary friend even as she ran away with him for real, who still lived each day with the traumatic internalization of deviancy dictated upon her by the psychiatric-industrial complex that shaped her from childhood —

Amy Pond, who wouldn't acknowledge the Doctor's voice, such that it took an Angel in her eye that was literally killing her to ensure she couldn't reality check herself —

Amy Pond, who stood before a room which muttered about “the psychiatrists we brought her to,” and though afraid, escaped their rigid parameters of acceptable existence.

[norikuna]

WHAT HAPPENS IN THE PRISON REALM STAYS IN THE PRISON REALM ! ★ gojo satoru

prologue ⋆ ★ just your luck, getting sealed in the prison realm with the strongest sorcerer of this day and age. well, he's typically the strongest. unless it comes to you.

pairing ⋆ ★ gojo satoru x reader genre tags & warnings ⋆ ★ afab!reader, sorta crack 😭 — use of blindfold, incorrect use of jujutsu, óral (f), pànty-fúcking, desperate and FERAL gojo, màting press, brééding, cérvix kissin' and creàmpiés lmfao, óverstim...

word count ⋆ ★ 4.7k! a/n ⋆ ★ gorgeous art by the amazing @baobei-bu 💖 highly recommend checking out their twt 🤭

"are you in the prison realm because ya' got sealed, or did you get sealed because you ended up in the prison realm?"

you grind tired molars together, willing your hands to stay put instead of wrapping around gojo satoru's wretched neck, "the fuck are you talkin' about?"

gojo just clicks his tongue lazily, sprawled out on the unsettling, clattering bones of the prison realm, "jus' musing. it's getting real existential here."

"it's been, what, two hours? and you're already losing it." you wrap your arms tightly around your knees, pulling them to your chest in some effort to combat the cool chill of this...prison. "you realise that this is literally all your fault though, right?"

gojo's eyes flutter open, sky-blue hues that glint with outrage, "what?" he's squawking, undignified, "don't start this again."

"oh, i will," you're jabbing a finger towards him, scowling, "i didn't have any beef with geto. not even after he went off the rails with all that murder shit. didn't do a damn thing to get stuck in here as well."

"oi," a shadow flickers over gojo's face, "whatever that thing is, it's not suguru. y'don't gotta' trust me on much else, but trust me on that."

eyes narrowing, you catch some truth in the sorcerer's defensive tone. whatever. not your circus, not your monkeys. you know better than to pick at gojo satoru's old wounds, "whatever, it's got his face. and you had one job last year when —"

gojo interrupts you with a faux, hacking cough that quickly melts into a groan. throwing his head back as though your tirade is a mere inconvenience, or a tiresome lecture. arms stretching upwards, long limbs unfolding as he arches his back.

phew. a sliver of pale skin peeks out from underneath the dark uniform of his jacket, smooth and taut over slabs of toned muscle, flashing just long enough to derail your thoughts.

"heh. no lookin', pretty," gojo snickers with half-lidded eyes, "what if i'm shy?"

a skull's clattering against the floor as you wrap your hands around rough bone, chucking it at gojo with all the force you can master. he's dodging it effortlessly, ugh. of course.

you don't hate gojo satoru. in fact, it would be a bold-faced lie to claim even a shred of dislike. far from it. your co-worker is...bearable in some circumstances, and it doesn't hurt that he's awfully easy on the eyes.

but nowhere in your grand master plan to bag the strongest sorcerer of the modern age did you imagine being sealed with him. there's a faint worry in the back of your head, wondering just how badly the world is falling apart outside. what, with that geto look-alike still running amok. tokyo? in flames. shibuya? well, you hope it's not rubble.

but it's hard to focus when gojo lounges in front of you, long legs stretched out and muscular thighs spread obnoxiously wide. he's absently tracing patterns on the eerie bones, "wanna' play rock-paper-scissors again?" sounding oddly chipper despite the dire fate of the world teetering on a knife's edge.

"we already did that. and you cheated."

"did not," gojo drawls, blue eyes disappearing to the back of his eyes in mock offense, "yer' just a sore loser."

a beat of silence, and then, "how about i spy?"

you raise a brow, glancing around at your five-star accomadation. the infinite expanse of dull bones and dismembered skulls, "fine. i spy with my little eye...an endless pile of bones. and an overgrown furby sitting right in front of me."

gojo whistles, low as he scrunches up his blindfold, tossing the black silk at you, "touché," head leaning back, groaning, "i'm jus' so bored."

"hah. if you were in here alone, you'd go mad," you mutter, scooching just a bit closer without thinking. this prison realm seems colder than it should be, and it's better to stay close for warmth, right? yeah. right, that's exactly what you tell yourself.

"probably. but it's not like we can crack this stupid place," gojo scowls, "trust me, spent the first hour givin' it my all. wasn't exactly expecting it either."

"yeah, i know," you sigh, avoiding the bright cerulean gaze that's currently resting on you, almost as though it's determined to take in the sight of you, "time doesn't pass in here, right? we're gonna' have to think of something."

the corner of gojo's mouth twitch, candy-pink lines curling up, "time stands still," and then, the man's giving you an odd, focused look that's almost sheepish, "besides, you're in here too, so i can't — y'know."

"you can't what?"

gojo snickers, whistling as he makes a quick, pumping motion over his abdomen, jerking his hand up and down, "you know."

you gape at the white-haired man, the sudden thump-thump of your heart rattling in your chest. it's ringing in your ears, "you're shameless," you mutter, dragging your gaze anywhere but him. the floor, the ceiling of this accursed place, anywhere but the faint amusement painting gojo's face.

"i never skip arm day."

you make a face, a faux-grimace, wondering how on earth you're attracted to this man. a charade and a pretense that you're keeping for yourself, because your neck is burning and heat creeps up your skin like a slow, curling flame. oh, you're a lost cause.

the laughter's melted from gojo's face, and the teasing spark in his eyes has given way to something suddenly more embarrassed, and flushed. expectant even, as there's a dusting of pink suddenly mottled on his cheekbones.

your gaze drops to his lap, mouth going a tad dry at the sudden, thick curve straining against his pants, "oh, y'serious. i mean, really, now? here?"

gojo scrambles backwards suddenly, folding his long legs beneath him like a panicked deer caught in the headlights, "hey. okay, wait! 'm stuck in here w'you and you're always looking so pretty and — don't make that face, hear me out." his ears are tipped with pink, just as obvious as the flush climbing up his neck, "and you're sitting so close, what am i meant to do? 'm only a simple man, sweetheart."

you swallow, as though there's a rough cotton ball caught in your throat, "this is really how you wanna' pass the time? i mean, we got eternity in here."

gojo's lips curl up again, maddening and cocky, as though he already knows the crass scenarios passing through your head, but theres a softer flash of vulnerability in his eyes. his gaze drops to your mouth, darkening with an expression that you've never seen on him before, "who's gonna know?"

your resolve snaps, and with it, all thoughts of the outside world. fuck it.

you're clambering forward, a sudden urge of want pushing you into his wide lap. not even giving him a chance to jest, and tease, or to say one more insufferable thing. your hands balance on gojo's broad shoulders for balance, pressing your mouth to his.

it's firm and certain, tasting the heat of his surprise and the faintest laugh that dies between you. you can taste something else as well, like cool and sweet mint. and blood, still hot and rearing from earlier fights.

gojo makes a muffled sound, somewhere between a gasp and a heady groan, and his hands suddenly come alive, rough palms sliding around your waist, pulling you so much closer. like he's holding a dream that might still disappear.

"heh, someone's just as needy," gojo murmurs, teeth grazing against the hot shell of your ear. the large expanse of his palm grazes at your chest, and a moan falls from your lips, arching your back into his touch, "s-shut up. i wasn't the one who h-had their legs spread, waiting for someone to climb on."

your groan leads gojo to make a sound like he's been wounded, desperate and tight against your skin. glossy mouth pressing at the curve of your throat, as fangs nip into the thin skin. leaving marks, this you know. cool hands slide under the hem of your own uniform, brushing gently over bare skin as his lips continue to chase your own.

sucking, and nipping at wherever his teeth can find, gojo's tugging at your top, pulling it off so you have little choice but to curl into him from the cold. chilled air hitting your bare skin, as he laughs, "aw, cold got to ya', eh? 's not to worry, i'll keep you nice and warm."

blue eyes that glow practically trained on the soft swell of your chest, reverent as though he had all the time in the world to take you in. which, at this point, gojo did. slicked lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cupped chest, white strands of hair falling over his face as he buries himself in, "i can take this off, right?" voice raspier, like rock against stone, in a lower register than you've ever heard it.

"wan' you too," you rock your hips sharper this time, more insistent, agains the hard bulge straining against his pants, "no-one's gonna' see, right?"

gojo's fingers deftly unclasp the hook, "hah, if they do, i'd rip their eyes out, can't have anyone else lookin' at m'girl like that," the strongest sorcerer in the world's gently peeling the fabric away. leaning in to kiss you again as though he's entirely drunk on the taste of you, and only you.

pale lips curling around your pert bud, hands softly pawing at your breasts as you gasp, and writhe, suddenly far more sensitive with each second that passes of gojo's attentive ministrations, "s-satoru, 'm feeling so —"

"so, what?" gojo grins, sucking a violet bruise right over your breasts, white lashes fluttering up to look at you, "yer' looking just as ruined as me, pretty."

"take them off," it's more of an order on your end, but gojo complies and he seems to know exactly what you want, exactly what you're talking about, as his hands dip to the waistband of your pants, long fingers pushing over your hips to centre themselves right where you're getting desperate for him.

"i've got ya', just carefully, yeah, lean back," he's flipping the two of you over, so he's leaning over you now, gently resting you on your discarded jacket, "heh, 'm just gonna' — yeah, there we go," hands pulling at your pants until he's tugged them off you, and gojo's eyes are wide at the sight of your drenched panties.

if you thought gojo satoru looked needy and whiny before, nothing prepares you for the sight of him gnawing at his glossy lower lip, eyes aglow as he seems to shudder, "wan' me to put the blindfold on ya', sweetheart? think we could have a lotta' fun like that, only if that's what y'want."

you eye the black silk that he discarded and tossed at you, not so long ago, pawing and reaching for it as gojo chuckles, "ohh, atta' girl, y'not gonna' need to do anything, but just lay back and use ya' words."

the snowy-haired man's surprisingly soft with it, pressing a tender kiss to your waiting lips, as he loops the fold over your eyes, obscuring your vision, "gojo's right here for ya', just relax."

you can hear the sharp hitch rock his breath, his hand mildly pressed onto your thighs as he gently nudges your thighs apart, and you can feel the chill of the air sting at your hot, sopping folds.

"s-so pretty," the strongest is slurring his words, "yer' practically dripping onto my hand and i've barely touched her. barely even gotten a good, fuck, a good taste."

"i know we're meant'ta be getting outta' this place," gojo murmurs, breath hot against your slicked panties, "but i really would lose my mind if i didn't get to do this first."

'this' being gojo pressing a quick kiss to the soaked fabric, and you can feel him smile against your thigh as you whine at the sensation, with each movement being so much more electric and heightened with the blindfold covering your vision.

"heyyy," gojo mutters, feeling at your thighs clench and kick, "no need to get antsy, 'm right here." tongue ghosting and teasing at your cunt again, "pretty thing, isn't she?"

rrrrrrip!

the way gojo's been pawing at you, you should have guessed that he was forgetting that the prison realm did not have an unlimited supply of undergarments, and that damp and muffled screech all but confirms it. he's torn your panties off, and you can't see where he's got them now.

but you can guess. for you can hear laboured breathing, and whiny praises falling from gojo's lips, and the sound of a buckle being undone. gojo's leaning back up to kiss you now, to nip and suckle at your lower lip while his hand tugs continuously at something. you can't see it, but you can feel the heavy, fat tip prod at your thighs. the sound of damp fabric being slapped against skin, plap over and over again.

"hahh, i don't think ya' know jus' how much i've wanted this, pretty," gojo breathes into your mouth, the other hand coming up to curl at the nape of your neck, loving even, "can ya' spread 'em a bit wider for me? that's it, just let me through."

he's now slotted between your thighs, large palms spreading you open as you can feel your panties still looped and dangling around his wrist, like the most lewd, keepsake cuff.

"satoru, wan' you to just — oh! oh, fuck!"

gojo's already dived right in, as though you were his last meal, swiping a tongue in quick stripes over your drooling cunt. starting near your glistening entrance, slowly climbing his way to the top where he presses gentle nips at your clit.

every single legible thought in your mind turns to a glorious mush, a senseless babble quickly falling from your lips as your hands shoot out, desperate for something to hold onto. finding the nape of gojo's neck, and curling your fingers into his pale hair as he licks at your soaked heat.

thick fingers are bruising at your hips, hooked and deeply pressed into your flesh, all the while gojo's practically making out with your cunt, primal and nasty. it's messy, absurdly so, and you can feel hot thwacks! of slick flying out against your thighs. you can only imagine how it's painting gojo's face, rendering him pussydrunk and so glossy and pretty.

"sweetheart, you're so sweet, ya' know that, right? so fuckin' sweet, heh, i mean, you don't even know how i've been dreaming of this, but now that you're here," gojo thumbs at your cunt, pushing slick-tacked folds apart to view his handiwork, "all spread so pretty for me, who woulda' thought?"

"m-more, please," you're practically mewling, jolting at the sensation of each sticky kiss that gojo plants on you, "more, fuck."

you can hear the crude smile in gojo's tone as he spits a thick glob onto your cunt, "what's the magic word, pretty?"

you don't even care to think, to pull a coherent sentence or plea from your mouth as he picks up the pace, "i d-don't know, satoru! but, god, fuck, fuck, please 'toru, i jus' —"

his grip on your hips tightens, "what?" a cutting, sharp sound as though he's been struck dumb, "what'd ya' just say, sweetheart?"

you don't even know how to form syllables now, such is the effect of gojo munching at your slick heat, "wanted more? huh, 'toru?" grinding your cunt against his face, rocking your hips sharply so you can feel the beakish point of his nose brush against your clit.

"toru, ya' called me," and you can hear the desperation and want painting gojo's words, drawing his voice out into a whine, "never thought hearing that from your lips would fuck w'me so much."

safe to say that gojo satoru would have a hard time letting go of you ever again. wind, hail, fire or prison realm — the strongest was going to have his way with you. his pretty girl, all spread pretty and dewy for him to feast on.

gojo's fingers are long, splitting you open as he begins to slide the digits right up into you. scissoring you open at a bullying pace, so you can only cry and squirm from where you are, "faster, f-fuck, your mouth too, 'toru!"

"whatever ya' want from me, 'm all yours to give," gojo murmurs, pressing a soft bite into the fat of your thighs, pushing his tongue into your entrance too, teasing at the outer edges of your gummy walls, "s'so tight, and 'm only using m'hands and this mouth," the tip of the muscle being sucked in by your pretty, sopping folds.

two lengthy fingers still pushing through your walls, exploring every crevice and sticky orifice that he can find, before rough pads brush past a spot that makes you scream, "oouh, m'girl's sensitive there?"

"s-satoru," you try to take in heavy swathes of air into your lungs, feeling much of the world fall away as gojo's nose grinds at your clit, each brush making you jerk your hips up and up, till you're seeing stars.

and oh, you're definitely seeing the whole damn night sky like this. you don't know what it is that he's doing, that sharp buzz faintly running in your ears, that faint crackle of energy that makes you jolt, but you can guess, "hah, 's not fair, using j-jujutsu, 'm gonna cum, m'really gonna cum!"

"now," it's a command, and you can hear it in gojo's ruined tone, that he needs to see you fall apart like this, needs to taste your release on his tongue and you writhe, as tears prick at your lashes underneath the blindfold, your orgasm washing over you in pulsing waves that leave you limp and boneless.

gojo's hands are trailing up again, leaning upwards to gently pull the blindfold from your eyes, and oh, what a sight! the white-haired man looks breathless, as though the air has been stolen away from him. eyes glowing with running cursed energy, a bright light in the dark that has your thighs clenching at how feral he looks. glossy lips dripping syrup over his chin, and how utterly pleased he looks.

"thereee you are," gojo murmurs, pressing his lips hotly to your own, "can ya' taste how sweet y'are?" each sticky kiss leaving you dizzy, but not as giddy as you feel when your eyes drop lower.

your panties still wrapped around his wrist, uniform sleeve pushed up so you can see where your slick has dampened the pale dusting of hair on his arm. and there, well, eyes on the prize as they say.

he's bigger than anyone else that you've ever seen. it seems fitting that gojo satoru's cock is just as girthy, and beefy as he is. curling upwards in a thick shaft that's kissing wet smears of fluid over his jacket, staining it.

"that's not gonna' fit," the only logical thing you can say right now, eyeing the pink, swollen head of his cock and how it glows.

the sorcerer's tilting his head, "we can make it fit," hand reaching out to run gentle strokes across your knuckle, "we got allll the time in the world to make it fit, don't we? and, heh, i don't think our audience really minds, do ya'?"

you scowl at the reminder of the clattering skulls still chittering away, mindlessly thrumming in the walls of this stupid cube. but you're never one to complain when faced with a site such as this, gojo wrapping long fingers against his cock to glide the head through your syrupy folds. the wide, throbbing head snagging at the sopping walls of your entrance. all while you pull him in closer, nails already beginning to tear lightly at his back.

"kiss m-me, 'toru."

gojo looks up from where he seems mesmerised, taken by the sight of your glossy folds seem to welcome his cock's touch, "what was that, sweetheart?"

"kiss me," you gasp, feeling him press further against you, the tip running circles right over your clit, "when ya' put it in, please."

despite the fact that he was previously nose-deep in your cunt, not five minutes ago, and the fact that he's been pawing your clothes off in a cursed prison realm with no shame, now it seems like you've truly stumped the man. rendered him speechless and flushed, as he ducks his head into the crook of your neck.

"awh," gojo murmurs, "pretty girl wants me kissin' her, fuck, ya' don't know what you're asking. or how much y'ruin me," he's taking your mouth into a heart stopping kiss, searing before he breaks away to press light pecks to the corner of your mouth, "hold on, biiig stretch for m'now, but i've got ya', just — ohhh."

gojo feels his own thoughts dissipate as he's pushing into your cunt. every previous subconscious worry of what on earth he had gotten himself (and you, when that fuck-ass clone showed up on the train platform) falling away as he's left with only you. just you, and this maddening cunt that he's ready to call home. forever.

"s-s-so tight," the strongest stutters, "fuck" his hands already pulling at your thighs to spread them wider, so he can bully more hot inches in, just so he can hear the smack! of skin against skin.

you're squealing, digging sharp tips of your nails into faint lines that are definitely gonna' paint his back, "eeh, it's b-big, 'toru." it feels like he's truly split you open, and well, fuck, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't pleased at how you finally got the strongest sorcerer spitting cuntstruck praises into your mouth.

you whimper, the sound falling softly from you as he bottoms out, and chuckles, swiping a slick thumb over your chin, "see? we really did it together, heh," like he's awarding you some participation in a teamwork exercise, "i'm all up in ya' and her," he's patting at your abdomen, right where you know there's a soft divot, a bulge that curls upwards.

the thick, hot tip of his cock pressing messy kisses to your inner walls, throbbing and pulsing. each vein bulging within you, "y'gonna cum in me, right, 'toru? gonna' finish right in —"

gojo stares at you, bewildered for a split second, like you've truly shocked him. blue eyes wide and expressionless for a second, before something far more pained crosses his face, tongue poking out of red, kiss-bitten lips.

"satoru?"

the strongest sorcerer snaps, pushing himself upwards, and dragging you up along side him, rough palms coming up to tug at your thighs, your calves. pulling them over his shoulders, a reverent kiss pressed to your ankle as gojo snarls, "ya' got no idea, do ya'? talkin' out of your slutty cunt, not even knowin' what you're doin' to me? huh?

gojo's now pressing down into you, with such force that it makes your thighs ache and smart, but you can't even bring yourself to care. practically folded in half neatly in a brutal mating press as his cock rummages inside you at a snappish, crazed pace. as though he's desperate to find where he can push into you the most, to have the leaky head kiss at the entrance of your womb.

and oh, gojo's enjoying the view. thinking that he's content with being faced with the bounce, and jolt of your chest against his, the way that your lips part and flutter around each muffled whine and cry of his name. the hazy glimmer that falls over your cockdrunk expression, like he's the only one for you. his own thighs ripple and bulge with each snap, cock pulsing into the depths of your core. kissing your cervix over and over in pleasurable stings.

"sweetheart, fuck," gojo's gasping, tugging at your lips. you don't miss crystalline droplets pooling on the edges of long, white lashes. the shuddering breaths that he takes into his lungs as you've practically snatched his mind and rationality away with the tight heat of your cunt, "n-never felt like this before. ya' drivin' me mad. fuck, fuck, oh, this pussy was jus' made for me, hah."

in the dim glow of this accursed place, the sheen of his eyes seems all the more intense. storm clouds gathering and parting all at once, striking electric sparks that leave you breathless. he's moving at a pace so feral that you can feel tight, heavy balls smack against your ass. desperate to empty themselves into you, just as you had begged.

"gonna' cum, pretty," gojo whines into your panting mouth, eyes fluttering shut as a tear or two streaks away from his waterline, "jus' snatching me so fuckin' tight."

you hammer your hips up to meet his, to feel that delicious tack of his sticky groin against yours, every kiss of pre-cum glistening in your cunt, "don't miss."

"when have i ever m — ohhh, fuck. fuck, 'm -"

yeah. you don't let him finish. clenching around him tight enough just to remind him who's got who wrapped around their finger. sending gojo hurtling towards a heart shattering climax, pumping every divot of your drooling pussy with shades of white and cream. endless streams of milky, translucent seed making its home deep within you. all while you cry out, harshly digging into his back and pulling the strands of his silver-streaked undercut.

"takin' it all, 'm pumping you s'full, sweetheart," gojo whines, mewling as he slaps a hand between you two, roughly pawing at your thigh to push your leg higher up with one hand, giving him enough space to rub tight, tremouring circles over your clit. slapping and sloshing the mess around even more as your mouth falls open.

he's still shooting into you, and you don't have to look down to predict the sticky, glossy mess that must be painted over your cunt now. right where gojo's hand must be dripping in your release, making you sink your teeth into the side of his neck. stars streaking across your vision as all goes black momentarily, but he doesn't let up on your poor, throbbing clit.

"hah, 'm so full, satoru," you groan out, pressing a limp hand to the bulge right over your groin, right where gojo's eyes are trained, his cock still sputtering out the desperate release of his cum into you, and the white-haired man moans. loud, like you've truly undone him.

the overstimulated sting is giving way to another shattering, sharp climax that washes over you once more, as quickly as it came, leaving your heart thumping and your lungs weak, locking your ankles once more around gojo's neck, wresting on his shoulders.

you limply paw at his jacket, tugging at the stiff collar as gojo sighs, content like a cat that's finally been able to bask in the sun, "feelin' more alert now, huh? got any fresh ideas on how to break this thing?"

gojo gives you a lazy, droopy look. eyes half-lidded as he barks a faint, incredulous laugh, "fucked any smart thoughts right outta' me, sweetheart. besides," and now he's flipping the two of you around again, so you're perched once more in his lap.

smacking and squelching in the pooling mess of your shared release, as gojo grunts, lifting the jacket from his torso. revealing an expanse of delicious washboard abs, and mouth-watering, flushed pectorals, "i don't think we're runnin' outta' time here, may as well make the most of it."

[dreamsteddie]

Steve and Eddie who kind of flop in life and end up poor, living in a trailer in a different small town living quiet lives of no import.

The kids, Robin, Nancy, and Johnathan all seem to take the small handful of opportunities offered to them by the government in the aftermath of the Upsidedown to take off and make something of their lives. They're off writing headlines, making news, and living their lives to the best of their abilities, but Steve and Eddie find themselves stuck.

Steve stayed in Hawkins until the kids graduated and left for college. By then Nancy, Johnathan, and Robin are all in their second or third years of college. John and Nancy have their own apartment in New York together and don't reach out all that often, only seeing the rest of the Hawkins crew on Holidays and some vacations. Robin is flourishing at an all-women's college in Maine and has a partner and a cat and plans for graduate school brewing. She's always saying Steve can come out and join her whenever he's ready, but when the time comes it feels like he would just be trying to insert himself in the middle of a life he doesn't know how to fit into, so he turns to Eddie instead.

Eddie is permanently disabled in a number of ways following the events of season four. He struggles with chronic pain, has breathing issues due to the loss of part of his right lung, and lost enough muscle mass in his left leg that walking will never be easy or done without the use of a walker or arm bar crutches. The doctors said he recovered as well as he could have. The kids said he would get better with time. Wayne said it didn't matter if he never got better, he could do anything he set his mind to.

Steve is the only person who tells him the truth.

Steve tells him that it sucks. Tells him that it will probably always hurt. Doesn't give him false hope when he's trying to grieve the loss of the life he wanted to live. The goals he wanted to reach. When he falls deeper and deeper into himself, stuck in the muck of depression, Steve is the only person he lets in. The kids try their best but their lives are moving fast, and taking care of someone like Eddie is exhausting, no matter what they try to say. Eventually, everyone but Dustin gives up on reaching out, the younger boy showing up every Sunday to try and get Eddie out of the house. He always leaves disappointed.

When Steve asks him if he wants to use what's left of their partly government payouts and Steve's equally meager Family Video savings to buy a truly shitty trailer in a town an hour and a half south of Hawkins in the fall of 1990, it feels like the first boon he's been given in almost five years. He'll never be who he could have been if he had ignored Chrissy that day in 86', but he's always thought maybe he could be more than a ghost between Wayne's walls if he could just get out of this god-forsaken town full of people who know too much and too little of what's happened to him.

They get the trailer, pack what little they have, let Wayne hug them close, and leave.

Steve has already transferred to their new town's Family Video, moving up to claim the dubious honor of being the opening manager. Mostly he just unlocks the door, signs into the computer, and makes sure nothing catches fire. Eddie hoped that moving would miraculously make him fit to enter back into the world, but he spends most of his days with a blanket on the front porch, watching people pass by. He does, though, finally accept that he needs to apply for disability to help Steve keep the lights on and the water hot. That last little bit of hope that he could be what he used to be dies, but he's learning to be content with what he does have. He starts taking a walk, just ten minutes around the loop of the trailer park saying hi and trading polite nods with his fellow residents. He's not ok, but he's starting to build a new community of people not too different from himself.

The new trailer only has one bedroom. Eddie sleeps on a fold-out mattress in the living room. It had been a major argument when they first moved in with Steve insisting that Eddie needed the bed. Eddie argued that it wasn't fair for him to take the room when Steve was the one working 40 hours a week to keep them afloat. In the end, Eddie was the more stubborn of the two. It helps that Eddie has absolutely no qualms about crawling into bed with Steve on the nights when the couch bed really won't cut it for his aching body. Steve never questions it, just shuffles over a little and lets the other man in.

Steve doesn't question a lot of stuff.

He doesn't question when all their effects are shared between them with no effort to distinguish between yours and mine, Eddie's and Steve's. He doesn't question it four months in when Eddie starts to get his feet under him and decides to take up cooking, always trying his best to have everything done just as Steve walks through the door. He doesn't question when a good chunk of Eddie's first disability check goes to buying Steve a sturdy, if not very fashionable, new watch for his birthday since his old one went bust almost a year ago.

He doesn't question it when Eddie holds his hand for the first time under the stars hanging above their front porch.

He doesn't question it when Eddie introduces him to one of his new neighbor friends with a hand resting comfortably on his lower back

He doesn't question it when Eddie starts sleeping in the bedroom every night.

Or makes him box mix cupcakes for Valentine's Day.

Or kisses him for the first time on the couch that's never a bed unless they want to spend the day binge-watching bargain bin films.

Because really, isn't this how it was always going to go? Wasn't this exactly what Steve was asking for when he asked Eddie to skip town with him?

Isn't this what Eddie was hoping for when he said yes?

[writersdrug]

Bartender Simon when a customer yells at reader for a mistake?

I love the way you guys think LOVE keep em comin!!

It starts when he's restocking his bar, carrying crates with fruit, bitters, coasters, and straws. He comes down from the pantry upstairs to a decently relaxed lunch crowd, when he hears the second half of the customer's tantrum.

"You expect me to eat this?! It's bloody raw!"

"I'm so sorry, I can take it back aga-"

"You already did that - went to the kitchen and stuck it under the warmer for a few seconds and thought I wouldn't notice, huh?"

"No sir, I gave it to the che-"

"I don't want to hear fucking excuses, just go fix my damn burger. I'm paying for this shit, aren't I? And you're working for my tip. So fucking work, cunt."

Humiliation isn't enough to describe what you feel - there isn't a strong enough word for it. Claiming you're a liar, saying you grovel for tips, yelling at you in front of your other tables, calling you a cunt - it makes your eyes sting with oncoming tears, staring at him and using every muscle in your jaw to keep from spitting insults back at him. You want to throw the food in his face, but instead, you grab his plate and storm off to the kitchen before he can see you cry.

The man scoffs, looking at his watch. "Fuckin' great..."

Simon's still standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding his crates and staring daggers at the man. He knows what it's like, being berated by customers. He says "that's customer service for ya" and moves on. But for this wanker to berate you - he sees red. He sees his next target.

He swiftly crosses the restaurant floor, boots thudding against the old wood as he drops his crate behind the bar. Soap's already yelling about the asshole when he pushes his way into the kitchen.

"Order it fuckin' rare and ye get fuckin' rare, bloody clipe- talkin' mince, bawface bastard-" he slams the burger back onto the grill with a tense arm, continuing to grumble as it sizzles. "Cookin' ye a nice strip o' shoe leather-"

You're sitting on an overturned crate, sobbing into your hands, pen and notepad on the ground beside you. Price is on one knee, one arm around your shoulder and the other on your leg - you'd never officially met the owner of the pub, but now was as good a time as any, you suppose.

"Wot happened?" Is all that Ghost could say without going off on a rampage. He's saving that for later.

"He fucking embarrassed me, that's what happened!!" You snap, looking up at Simon. Your eyes are red and puffy after only crying for a minute or two, cheeks wet from your tears. You hug your arms around your middle and choke on a sob. "Told me his fucking burger wasn't cooked, so I sent it back- then he tries to say I never even gave it to Soap?! Calls m-me a cunt in front of my tables?! Make me fucking work for his money - I don't want his goddamn money!!"

Price shushes you, worrying your anger might be leaking through the kitchen door - he doesn't want the same customer to hear you bad-mouthing him, although it's rightfully deserved. He rubs your back gently as you drop your head into your hands again, shoulders shaking as you cry.

Simon's seething - he's already moving before his brain can catch up, still stuck on the picture of your teary face. He marches behind the line and reaches across Soap, picking the burger right off the grill.

Soap makes a shocked sound. "Ye gone mad, LT?!"

"Table six?" Ghost asks, holding the sizzling burger patty in his hand, grease dripping onto his forearm.

You stare between his face and the patty - your crying stopped, your face now replaced with a stupefied expression. "Uh- yeah."

And like that, he's off; he shoves himself back out onto the floor and makes his way towards the customer who yelled at you. The burger burns his hand, but he doesn't even notice the pain. He drops it onto the table in front of the man, who yelps in disgust. "What the fuck-"

"Better?" Ghost says, hands clenching into fists at his sides as he looked down at the man, now stuttering and blubbering in shock. Specks of grease are freckling his white dress shirt.

"Are you- is this a fucking joke?"

"It's your fuckin' burger."

"I can't believe this-"

"Then get the fuck out my pub." Ghost growls; he grabs the man by his arm, ripping his blazer off the back of his chair, and drags him to the front door. The other customers look with wide eyes as he busts the door open with his shoulder and throws the man onto the sidewalk. He wheezes as he hits the ground, and Ghost throws his blazer at him next.

"If I ever see your face in 'ere after this, 'm throwin' you out again and keepin' your bullocks as a fuckin' souvenir."

The man stares at him, flabbergasted, as Ghost walks back inside. People are focused on their meals now, heads down and pretending they didn't see Simon body a man to the ground - the guy deserved it, after all.

Simon huffs, picking up the burger from the now-empty table. His hand stings a bit, but he has years of callouses built up to keep any real burns from settling in. He gently kicks the chair back into place and starts heading back to the kitchen, when he sees you.

You're staring at him with wide, wet eyes, standing in the entryway to the kitchen and mouth slightly ajar in awe. You've fully stopped crying, but there are still tears on your face from before. Eyeliner and mascara are smudged a bit, but it only makes Simon's fondness for you blossom.

He gently nudges your shoulder with his elbow as he pushes past you. "Take a fifteen. I'll watch your tables."

You stare after him as he throws the burger into the trash, grabbing a fresh towel and wrapping his hand. Wide back facing you as he looks at Soap, who stares at him with a frustrated sigh.

You're horny now. Horny for Simon - and you're definitely relaying this entire shebang to your friends tonight.

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Crack prompt: Danny has declared war on the curses in Gotham. He is armed with a water balloon gun, but the balloons are full of medical-grade ectoplasm. He targets any location, ghost, or liminal being tainted by curses and/or corrupted ecto - absolutely drenching them before yeeting off again.

This includes the Bats. Danny is smart about it, though. He lived in Gotham for several months before acting, so he could get the lay of the land. He also waits for patrol to be finished before hitting the Bats - he doesn't want to interrupt their Quest to Better Gotham (or be labeled an invader to their haunt).

One night, Danny happens upon Batman patrolling alone and waits for him to finish cleaning up a crime scene before hitting they guy with a half-clip of balloons. Batman gives chase, like he always does, and Danny runs, like he always does. He knows by now that, for whatever reason, Crime Alley is off limits to Batman. The whole alley just gives off "no (other) bats allowed" vibes.

Red hood is just more territorial. Whatever.

At any rate, Danny is enjoying the chase, using just enough ghost powers to stay ahead of batman, almost-but-not-quite taunting him. Crime Alley isn't too far, so instead of turning invisible around a corner like he usually does, he makes his way to the Alley to see if the no-trasspassing rule is enough to stop Batman mid-chase. He leaps across rooftops and weaves through fire escapes, ecto-balloon-gun bouncing by its strap against his back, until finally he's at the border, slightly tapping into flight to make the jump across a slightly wider road into the alley proper.

He turns around immediately, spotting Batman skulking on the rooftop on the other side of the road, stopping the chase and suit half-covered in healing ectoplasm.

"Sanctuary!" Danny yells, pumping his fists in the air from getting caught up in the exciting rush of adrenaline, "I claim sanctuary!"

"Who the fuck is claiming sanctuary in my territory?" Red Hood booms from almost directly behind Danny. He would have yeeted out of his own skin from surprise if he hadn't spent years honing his ghost-fighting instincts. As it was, Danny instead whirled around and emptied the clip of balloons into Hood, purely out of reflex.

Hood stood there, drenched in ecto like his fellow Bat one rooftop over, glaring murder at Danny with glowing eyes. But his haunt betrayed Hood's true emotions.

Surprise, concern, impressed, you-little-brat.

Danny booked it to the fire escape and turned invisible the second he was out of sight.

[nightingale-prompts]

How to Raise Your BatBoy

First | Previous | Next

Dick sighed into his cup of coffee. This is not what he wanted to see when he woke up in the morning. That and the giant bat wing covering his face this morning.

Danny was getting bigger. Not physically but his bat features are changing. The teen was getting better at changing shape. His ears are sharper ending in slight points, his fingers are more clawlike, and he has grown a thick ringed collar of white fur around his neck. Thankfully that's as far as his transformation can go right now. Danny has learned to pick and choose what traits he wants.

Danny has claimed Dick's gymnastic equipment as his. The aerial equipment is now used as roosts for Danny to hang off of and nap. But that hasn't stopped him from sleeping on top of Dick like an overgrown cat.

Bat wings expel a lot of heat as blood circulates through the thin skin which cools the blood in hot environments that they are native to. So to regulate their temperature they rest together to conserve heat. That's probably why Danny decided to grow the fur collar and sleep on top of Dick.

And why is Dick so frustrated? Because he's fighting for his goddamn life in this house. His cute aggression is barely contained. He wants to squish the kid's cheeks and ruffle his hair all the time.

Dick would be going over case files while Danny watches tv on the floor and Dick will feel the insatiable NEED to go bother him.

That damn fuzzy neck fur calls to him like a cat picking up a kitten.

Danny chirps! He fucking chirps! Like a baby bird!

Dick is trying so hard to be normal but if you had an adorable and clingy batboy you'd do the same.

Dick wants to tell the world about his batboy.

And he does. When he's Nightwing he will not shut up about how much he adores his sidekick. God forbid Robin is visiting, Dick will cry while taking hundreds of pictures of them together.

Damian doesn't like Batboy at all. At least that's what he says. He's just jealous that Batboy has bat wings. Damian warms up to him after they go out gliding together and get to study his wings.

It however goes downhill when they go on a misadventure and Batboy took a bite out of Scarecrow. Batboy had an immunity to fear toxins, instead, it overstimulated him. He ended up lounging at Scarecrow when he taunted Damian as the boy was paralyzed by the gas. When Damian was able to get back on his feet he found Batboy sobbing with his mouth covered in blood.

"Im sorry. I didn't. I didn't mean to-" His wings shielded him from sight.

Scarecrow was alive but the two sets of puncture wounds on his neck and the claw marks were not doing him any favors. The bite seemed to render him immobile at least for now. A symptom of a bat bite was paralysis.

Damian notified the others. Bruce and Dick got there first. Both adults were thankful they were okay but there was a disagreement.

"Nightwing you don't even know what the boy is. He could have killed Scarecrow. We don't know what he's capable of yet. He lost control." Batman stated firmly looking at the blood-stained teen that clung to Nightwing.

"He was protecting Damian. He didn't want to do that." Nightwing pulled Batboy behind him.

"It doesn't matter what he wanted to do. What will you do if he loses control and actually kills someone next time?" Bruce crossed his arms.

"All of us are capable of losing control and killing. I did it and you never came down on me like this. You are a hypocrite. You think he's a monster because he's not human." Nightwing was not going to let Batman point a finger at his son like this. He killed Joker once and he had don it out of rage and hate, not even to protect someone else.

"What I'm saying is that he isnt human. We don't don't know how he can be affected. We don't know his weaknesses. What if someone else figures out what fear toxin does to him and turns him into a weapon? Will his guilt be enough to stop him or will it destroy him? Do you want him to become like Man-Bat? Do you want to put your son in danger?" Batman didn't give in to Nightwing's taunt and stated his view firmly.

"We're leaving." Nightwing picked up the shrinking Batboy and made his escape but not before hugging Robin goodbye.

Nightwing had to move quickly. He could feel Danny getting smaller with every step.

This happened sometimes. Danny would sometimes retreat inwards when he was stressed. He changed to become as vulnerable as he felt.

When they got home Danny looked to be just 3 years old.

"Its okay baby bat. Not one is going to hurt you. I promised remember?" Dick held the chind aginst his chest.

"I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." Danny said between gasping breaths trying not to cry. His small wings wrapped around Dick's shoulders

"No, its not. You did the right thing no matter what Batman says. I'm proud of you."Dick said stroking Danny's black-streaked white locks.

(*Does a silly jig*)

[sunderwight]

SV AU where Luo Binghe answers Shen Qingqiu's "do you want power?" question differently, so Shen Qingqiu cannot mentally justify pushing him into the Abyss, and resolves to just let the System kill him instead. Even though he doesn't want to die, it's probably still better to just get yeeted out of his body than to be brutally dismembered after forcing his favorite disciple to suffer terribly.

However, the System picks up on this philosophical shift in the user, and begins to take counter-measures.

Without-a-Cure ratchets up exponentially. Around the same time, Luo Binghe discovers an ancient record in the libraries that claims some rare compound or other which can only be found in the Endless Abyss, is reputed to cure all poisons, even the most deadly spiritual kind.

When Shen Qingqiu is too weak to even attend the Immortal Alliance Conference, Luo Binghe initially plans to stay by his bedside. But then he overhears Shang Qinghua whispering about a mysterious plot with a being on the other side of a portal, about arranging a demonic invasion, and afterwards, his shishu mutters something about the Endless Abyss.

Luo Binghe returns to his unconscious master's bedside, and begs him to hold on for however long it will take, because Binghe will return with the cure.

By the time Shen Qingqiu's fever breaks, the Immortal Alliance has come and gone, and with it his poor disciple. What's worse, the whole cultivation world seems to have caught on to the fact that Luo Binghe is a demon! That wasn't supposed to come out yet! But without Shen Qingqiu to help shield him, his seal broke early and in front of more than a few witnesses. Cang Qiong has fallen under a lot of unflattering speculation for harboring such a "creature".

Shen Qingqiu supposes he should have known that there would be no escaping fate. And yet, even with the knowledge that Binghe will come back, and that this time he won't even harbor a grudge against his master for pushing him in, that -- in a sense -- Shen Yuan has been spared and this is probably the 'best case scenario', somehow it's not any easier to deal with. Especially not when he knows that his poor disciple doesn't even want the rewards that will follow after it, that he's suffering for nothing except the fickle mandates of some narrative destiny.

Also, he didn't figure out that Shang Qinghua is Airplane, so he has no fellow transmigrator to understand or help him vent. He's just alone in his knowledge, sickly, fretted over and grieving (not that he can admit the latter), while the sect whispers that the Xiu Ya sword is probably not long for this world now. If the poison doesn't kill him, perhaps his disgrace will. Cang Qiong's good name has been dragged through the mud, and Huan Hua Palace is looking to beat it down further. There are even some who claim that Luo Binghe must have been behind Sha Hualing's earlier invasion, and poisoned his own master because of it! Shen Qingqiu can't stand such talk, nor the pitying, condescending looks he receives whenever he tries to defend his disciple's character.

The writing is on the wall, however. If Shen Qingqiu won't die as a scum villain, the story seems to be planning to kill him off as the tragically deceased mentor.

Meanwhile Luo Binghe takes longer to get out of the Abyss this time. Not for lack of motivation, but because he needs to find his goddamn macguffin first! And then he has to protect it, and get both it and himself safely out of the Abyss! Which means he can't just rush through killing everything, he has to take his time to plan and prepare, even though he wants to rush through because every minute he spends in the Abyss is another minute where Shen Qingqiu could be dying.

When Binghe finally gets out, it's to find that the righteous sects, headed by Huan Hua Palace, are conducting a formal investigation into Cang Qiong Mountain, specifically into the allegations of consorting with demons and the corruption of the Qing Jing Peak Lord. He hurries to the palace to intervene, though by what means even he's not sure.

He arrives just as the Huan Hua Palace disciples are removing Shen Qingqiu's nearly-lifeless body from the water prison.

Just in time for the expected stirring final words of his old shizun, Shen Qingqiu thinks. Imagine his surprise when Luo Binghe force-feeds him a weird potion plus like a liter of blood. Binghe, this is not the dignified end that your shizun had planned!

[volleychumps]

Kurōo cheating on his s/o for his new manager but quickly falling out of love with her and she realizes so she quits as manager. But when he comes back to you he realizes you’re with someone else so he begs you to lie to him and say “I love you”.

Won’t You Lie to Me?

- the one in which Kuroo Tetsurou would do anything to hear the lies that stain your tongue

xFem! reader

Warning(s): cheating! angst, lots of tears, reader doesn't want Kuroo's touch in the last part, read with caution this was a painful write but I love angst soooo

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

If you could go back in time, you wonder if you would take the detour to stop by your boyfriend’s volleyball practice again. It’s a bitter afterthought really, an afterthought to the scene before you. 

She yelped, manager tracksuit zipping up quickly in the process as one of her hands flies to her hair, attempting to smooth down the mess of it as if it would magically fall back into place.

But you're not staring at her. How could you? Why stare at her when the raven-haired boy standing behind her with a slackened jaw and crumpled t-shirt was just such an interesting sight to see?

"Someone's hard at work." your tone is sarcastic, but the slight crack in the tinge of your words is enough for Kuroo to take a step towards you, watching the light fade from your eyes as the cowering manager of their team stares like you're a bomb about to explode.

"Y/N-"

"Don't."

Your reaction is mild and tame, simply tilting your head to the side as you don't break eye contact with him. It was a silly high school love story to begin with, perhaps one of those where happy endings don't exist and things are too good to be true.

If you knew that, then why does it feel like every inch of you won't stop trembling?

"Go to hell, Tetsurou." But he knows. He sees it in your eyes, the finality in your tone that sealed things in place. He knows you mean it. He knows you never say things you don't mean, the same way he knows things will never ever be what they once were.

So why can't he will his legs to move towards you?

Instead, dark eyes watch you hang your head with a heavy sigh, as if you were suddenly exhausted before shoving something in the manager's hands, ignoring the yelp that left her swollen lips.

"It's for the headache he claimed he had." Your voice was monotone as you refused to lift your gaze. "He's your problem now."

"Y/N."

It almost broke you. Almost. The gentleness in his tone, the way in which a shaky hand lifted towards you, but you simply took a step back. Staring down at the manager you once called a friend, you giggle humorlessly before simply turning on your heel and walking away.

"She's so calm about it, Tetsu-kun." The manager sniffed at your absence, trying to put a hand on one of his broad shoulders. "She must have never loved you, I told you so."

But Kuroo knew better. He wasn't sure why he gave in. He wasn't sure why for a second he believed what Yue was saying before she came onto him, not denying her when she advanced. Something about your plans to break up with him? Something about how you had giggled to Yue about how you were planning on leaving him for someone better?

He can't recall why or what was said. All he knows is as he's watching you, he strangely feels quite empty inside. This must mean he doesn't have any outright feelings for you anymore, right?

If he isn't hurting when he watches you go, isn't this for the best?

He's lost in his thoughts when the gym doors come to a tight shut, your knees hitting the soft grass outside as your legs give out from underneath you, a silent wail wracking your whole body as your heart splits into pieces, taking the form of salty tears that slide down your cheeks.

--

Kuroo Tetsurou still isn't really feeling much of anything.

He didn't feel much when he told Yue he still didn't want to be with her despite the deceptive steps taken. Not when she slapped him across the face. Not when Kenma had eyed him with a look of pure disgust with a sharp warning not to speak to him for the next couple days.

The only twinge he felt was when you handed in your resignation as manager, the gym an eerie quiet before the first years hug you tightly, teary-eyed as they exclaim that they didn't want you to go but they understand. Yaku glared at him the whole time, but Kuroo kept setting up the net as the first years tackle you in their last couple of embraces, glancing your way as you stroke their hair lovingly and explain you'll still find the time to hang out.

Kuroo was waiting for you to be on your way, out the door to catch you and say one last thing-

"Y/N, you have to know I'm so-"

"Sorry." Your voice is a little breathless, like you just had the wind knocked out of you. "But let's not, okay Tets-" You catch yourself, inhaling a shaky breath before managing a small smile.

"Okay, Kuroo? I'm happy being strangers. I don't hate you, okay?"

Your shoulder taps his as you stride past, a finality in your footsteps.

"I just wish we never met."

Kuroo stands there, a single emotion stirring in his chest as his gaze stares straight ahead, his shoulder on fire from where you had gently grazed it.

Confusion. Confusion swirls in his chest as his eyes brim with unshed tears he can't exactly match an emotion to.

--

A couple weeks pass...maybe a month or two? But the raven-haired third year doesn't even notice it. He goes through the motions of school and club activities, his team eventually having to slowly begin speaking to him again as preliminaries near the corner.

Kenma taps his head against the doorway of his room, staring at him blankly.

"Hey cheater."

"Funny." But Kuroo isn't laughing, sitting up in bed to eye him with an even stare. Kenma doesn't like the look in his eyes, the usual sarcastic and confident glint in his irises and smile nowhere to be seen. "What's up."

Kenma shrugs, taking a comfortable seat on the floor before pulling out his handheld device, Kuroo blinking once in surprise before laying back down in bed, listening to the click of the buttons and the movements of the joystick.

The cat-eyed boy glances at him, looking back down at his device before taking something out of his pocket and placing it on the end of his bed.

"Y/N wanted me to return this to you."

Kuroo eyes the red scarf at the end of the bed, Kenma focusing on the next level of his game before he sits up again to examine the fluffy fabric, the characters for Nekoma High School on the corner of one end.

His chest seems to twist.

"Don't be a brat, Y/N, it's cold out here."

"What if you get sick, idiot?"

""Stop calling your best friend an idiot! You're the worst, you know."

"Don't kid yourself. Kenma's my best friend."

A lump forms in his throat.

"Fine, whatever." Kuroo had smirked down at you from his towering height, wrapping the scarf around your neck despite your wishes as you eyed him weirdly. He leans down to your height, his eyes twinkling with something you can't pinpoint.

"I don't wanna be just your best friend anyway."

You glare at him a little, tip of your nose colored from the cold before standing on your toes to lean up and kiss him, smiling as your bag hits the snow beneath you, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as the first snow falls around you.

"Promise me." Your sweet voice is hushed, eyes staring at him brimmed with straight adoration as you cup his cold cheeks, Kuroo's onyx eyes holding yours carefully.

"Let's go see next year's first snowfall together."

"Cheesy." Kuroo's grin is cocky as you swat his chest in slight embarrassment, but he grabs your hand anyways, stopping your attacks before leaning a little closer to your face, so close your breaths are mingling. His fingers are touching the scarf wrapped so carefully around your pretty neck, stroking your cheek with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed.

"We'll get a front row seat, kitten, don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"Tetsu?"

"Hm?"

You smiled, snow in your hair as you kissed him again.

Kuroo Tetsurou could now feel again.

"I love you."

And it was his heart absolutely breaking as regret fills the beginning of the onslaught of tears.

Kenma looks up, eyes widening a fraction as his childhood friend hunches over the now clenched red scarf, his body trembling as sob after sob pours out of him, the fabric smelling of you as he holds it close to his seemingly irreparable heart.

No, it wasn't that he couldn't feel.

His body was numb and in shock with the loss of you.

--

Kuroo Tetsurou wasn't a complete idiot.

He knew the damage done was nearly permanent. There would be no fixing things, the "nearly" part of that statement lingering on the sense of false hope he had that you would at least begin talking to him.

Strangely enough, it wasn't that difficult. You began nodding to at least acknowledge his existence when dropping off a packaged treats at practice. You even began saying hello when he was with Kenma, Kuroo only being able to manage an awkward greeting back before watching you walk off with a longing in his eyes.

"Doesn't Y/N-senpai seem so much brighter these days?" Inuoka slurps his yogurt pouch, brightening up as he mentions your name. He finishes tying his shoes, stretching out his arms overhead with a careless yawn.

"Maybe she's seeing someone new."

Kuroo misses a spike, chest heavy as the first year looks up at his captain, startled.

"Relax." Kenma scolds him, not missing a beat. "It's probably not true."

Yeah.

Kuroo jogs back to center court, watching Kenma's fingers set the ball up perfectly.

It's probably not true.

He misses the spike again.

--

"After we win this, I'm going to ask Y/N for another chance."

Kenma doesn't look surprised, eyeing Kuroo seriously before releasing a heavy sigh.

"Kuroo, you should really know that-"

"Oi. Get a move on, you two, this is the last preliminary match before the qualifying match to Nationals." Yaku cuts off the team's setter, Kenma groaning a little as Kuroo jogs ahead of him onto the court, Fukurodani waiting for them on the other side.

Kenma waves to you in the stands, and you smile, waving both hands in the air at the entire team as Kuroo's heart skips a beat.

That smile was still his, it has to be.

Bokuto greets his friend with a wide grin, slapping Kuroo on the back with a little less energy than usual as the two teams begin their warm ups, the two captains meeting once in awhile since the training camp.

"Hey hey Kuroo!" The owlish boy crosses his arms, smirking a little as the crate of balls gets rolled out onto the court. "You look great, better than I was expecting!"

"So you heard?" Kuroo sighs, a hand coming up to rest on the back of his neck. "about me and Y/N breaking up?"

"Hm? Oh, that too. I just thought it would've been a little weird seeing as she's dating Akaashi now and all."

What?

His hand freezes midair, voice caught in his throat by the huge lump that forms. Slowly, even though his body was screaming at him not to, he looks back up at the stands.

Akaashi had draped his jacket around your shoulders, slight smile on his lips as he seems to be immersed in conversation with you, Bokuto allowing him to run up real quick to see you before the match began. The setter's blue eyes were brimmed with so much adoration, the beginning sparks of new love evident between the two of you as you shyly nodded along to what he was saying.

Akaashi looks down at the court once before looking back at you, bringing your hand up to kiss once affectionately with a content smile on his face before placing a quick one on your cheek, jogging back down the stairs afterwards.

You don't know what to expect when you look back down at the court, warmth in your cheeks and chest with a foreign form of love you're not accustomed to yet. You want to meet Akaashi's eyes, cheer on Kenma and the Nekoma team, wave a greeting to Bokuto-

but the look of Kuroo's absolutely broken stare was not within the scope of your expectations.

Among the feelings Kuroo Tetsurou was learning how to feel again,

Panic was not one of them.

Panic is all he knows as the whistle blows in his ears, the game calling for someone to serve the first ball.

--

"Y/N."

"Kuroo." You say his name so easily, as if you're not the same person you were that day in the volleyball practice that never existed.

The one where he took your heart and completely discarded it.

"Where are the others-?"

"Washing up after the game." Kuroo can't meet your eyes, his head swimming with the things he rehearsed for hours on end, yet unable to communicate them.

"Oh." You say softly, and Kuroo hates it. He hates how you grow awkward and uncomfortable, like he wasn't the one kissing down your neck as you giggled for him to quit teasing. Like he wasn't your first love.

Like he didn't mean anything to you anymore.

"Y/N." Panic. Panic is what paints his voice as he steps closer to you, reaching an arm out to tug you into his chest, pretending like he doesn't feel you grow rigid at his touch. "Please."

"Let go, Kuroo." Your voice lost it's soft edge, void of emotion-

just like he used to be. You love him right?

"Say it."

"What-?"

"Won't you lie to me? Say that you love me, please say it."

False hope. He recognizes the next feeling when you shakily put your arms around him as well, your tears beginning to soak through his shirt.

Please say it.

"T-Tetsu." Your trembling in his hold. "I..I love you."

Confusion is next. He feels it when you break out of his hold, pushing him back abruptly with an ocean of emotions across your face, the feeling of holding him simply wrong.

Kuroo doesn't even know he's crying, not until your placing a careful hand on his cheek to swipe at his tears messily before laughing a little at the situation.

"Tetsu, let's put us in the past." Your voice is quiet, the air freezing as your warmth creates a slight puff from the contrast. "It's over for us now, don't you see? There's too much hurt-"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Don't go to him. Please, I love-"

"I won't lie to you again." The tone in your voice is gentle, Kuroo's breath stuck in his throat again as his eyes well up with fresh tears. "I don't feel the same anymore, you broke my heart first...why do I have to take responsibility for yours?"

Kuroo says nothing, another familiar feeling inching towards his chest.

"But look-" You point up at the sky, snow falling down almost mockingly for the first time this season, a sad smile on your lips and wet tears down your cheeks. "It's the first snowfall."

You've never looked more beautiful, with snow in your hair and warmth in your lips.

"You kept your promise."

You turn around after that, continuing to cry as you walk off to go find Akaashi to apologize for the lie you let stain your tongue as Kuroo falls to his knees, his skin numb from the cold-

but his chest isn't numb.

No, he knows this feeling. He knows this feeling a bit too well, the snow seeming to shower at his expense in a rueful manner as he stares at the dark swirl of the sky above.

Heartbreak.

--

[realcube]

UNCONVENTIONAL PLACES

unconventional locations you have sex with the hq men (aka anywhere but bed)

characters ♡ (all aged up) oikawa, daichi, sakusa and ushijima

tws ♡ fem! reader, oral (receiving), vaginal, degradation if you squint — minors dni!

OIKAWA doesn't think there is a point of owning a hot tub if you're not going to use it to the fullest extent. you say you'd be lot more comfortable if he bought one for inside the house, but here you are, happily bouncing away on his cock in your outdoor hot tub without a care in the world for who might hear. he's sat with one arm relaxed around the edge of the tub and the other placed on your hip, guiding you up and down, a smile playing on his lips as he watches the ripples and bubbles foam up against your waist. putting in so much effort just to get him off, so selfless — he can tell it's taxing by your breathless moans and your juddering shoulders — you're so good to him. he wants to reward you, but a part of him thinks that allowing you to use his dick to split yourself in two is reward enough. but hearing your shamelessly lewd moans and watching your perky ass bounce against him, he just can't resist — your his dream girl, after all; you deserve everything he has to give. his other hand suddenly moves to claim a steel grip on your waist, holding you in place while he shoots his load inside you. it's messy but he'll ask someone to clean it later. this wasn't the first time he's creampied you in a tub and it definitely won't be the last.

DAICHI can't quite put his finger on it but there's just something about seeing you so sweet and domestic, innocently putting the laundry in the dryer with your hair lasily throw into an updo and an angelic smile plastered on your face (you were thinking about what he was going to do you tonight). you'd both got the day off work so you planned to spend the whole evening together but he just couldn't wait, he needed you now. he couldn't even hold himself back long enough to rush you to the bedroom or the living room first, he had to take you right then there. he had you bend over the rumbling dryer, his large hand tangled in your hair, utilising his strong grip to push your face against the cold plastic surface. the whole machine shook, and so did your body, as he pounded into your from behind repeatedly, all while your throbbing clit was pressed against the vibrating machine. naturally it didn't take long before you came. unfortunately daichi didn't have the extra stimulation provided by the dryer but that was alright, as he knows he has you; such a good wife who will let him rail her in any hole he wants until he's dry.

SAKUSA knows there is nothing better than his sweetheart when she's all soapy and bubbly. now, don't be fooled: he will lead you to believe it's a hygiene thing and he prefers you when you're clean but he's so whipped, he'd fuck you after you ran a half marathon then jumped in a murky river. no, he likes you in the shower for purely aesthetic reasons; there's nothing hotter than you with wet hair clinging to your cheeks, while soap and rippling water cascades over your perfect figure. such an ethereal delight you are. he expresses that by trailing fleeting kisses down your torso but of course he doesn't stop when he gets to low. instead, he's on his knees on the rough tiles of the wet room with his face buried between your legs. water runs down your body, and with his mouth connected to your cunt, it spills over his face, mixing with the beads of sweat forming on his skin and your slick that drips off his chin. his tongue thrusting movements and nose pressuring your clit doesn't cease until your legs have given out and you're moaning uncontrollably, sinking to the ground against the wetroom wall.

USHIJIMA has been stressed about upcoming international volleyball championships. it all training, training, training with him and it has been that way for the last couple weeks. you can hardly get him in bed with you, he's always on the court — so like the problem-solver you are, you decided to bring bed to the court. ushijima had a wing built on to the side of your house which was one big volleyball court, he was practising spikes and serves on his own while he waited for his teammates to come round. he wore that intense look on his face that never seems to dissipate recently. you saunter up to the other side of the net, a volleyball tucked under your arm, wearing a swedish adlers kit that you had cropped to all hell, "may i join you?" you tease in a sing-songy voice and that's all it takes. before you know it you're bend over on the floor, volleyball tucked between your thighs and stomach while ushijima rams into you from behind. usually he's a gentle giant but not today; if you're going to come onto the court while he's practising and act like a whore then he's going to treat you like one. he's rough and grabs you by the ass and tits and thighs to manhandle you into whatever position he likes; front, back, upside down if he really wants. this total control and recent sexual frustration contributed to his climax before your own, and as soon as he has shot his load inside you, he pulls out, a mixture of your fluids spilling out of your hole in the process. glancing down at your dishevelled state, he grunts, "clean this up. they're going to be here soon."

[dcxdpdabbles]

Holiday request: the audit

"What time is your bedtime?" Uncle demands just as Damian is about to go to Batcave to suit up. For a moment, he fights the urge to proclaim he doesn't have a bedtime because he is not a child. Then he remembers that Uncle had been the one to install the anti-child soldier rule in the League of Assassins.

He allowed them to be trained to defend themselves and the organization but not to be sent on missions or be trained to the point he claimed as "abusive." Uncle believed that the young of Infinity Island should be treated like children and that doing so was not a means of offense.

Instead, Uncle thought providing a peaceful and gentle childhood was a gift. Mother claimed it created weaklings, which is why Damian had pushed himself to this point of skill, but even she had known that her brother's wrath would fall upon her if her more intense training techniques were introduced to him too early.

Damian would like to believe he was one of the best in the League of Assassins, but he knew he wasn't. Uncle Daniel's rule made it hard for him to advance against larger opponents.

He could best everyone in his age group in controlled duels and sparring, and he stood a great chance against the idiots in Gotham streets, but only because none of them had any official training.

In the beginning of his life in Gotham, Damian consistently lingers in the background in battles against enemies such as Bane, Killer Croc, or Scarecrow. He was skilled enough to know he would be a liability if he attempted to take a point, but Father had quickly adjusted his training, and Damian was slowly but surely advancing in his skill set.

Mother would be pleased to learn he was better than the assassin's two age groups above him and that his pain tolerance hide rose. Uncle Daniel had likely noticed as well.

He knew it was due to all those hours out in the field of Gotham's darkest streets.

It had been one of the first things he had been displeased with Father over, and if he wanted his plan to work, he needed to make the sacrifice.

"Nine o'clock," he grumbles, crossing his arms. "Nine thirty if it's not a school day."

Uncle Daniel smiles proudly, leaning back into the doorframe of Father's office. The rest of Father's brood stands around looking confused as Uncle shoots Father a smug look, only to frown at Father's glee. Even someone as great as his uncle had thought Father wanted them on the field.

Not that they had all forced his hand. Damian should show him all the security his father had installed to keep him in the manor and the surveillance hours during which he broke through said security to fight crime.

In fact, Damian should asked Drake if he still had the video where Father had shouted at the top of his lungs, "For the last time, just STAY HOME and let me handle the EXTREMELY dangerous hostage situation, kids!"

Only to slap a hand over his face when Brown had taunted him through the coms. "You can't tell us what to do!"

"Yeah, B, you must learn to control your children." Todd's mockery was nearly drowned out by the sound of gunfire. "We're out of control."

"Damian can not stay home alone," Father says, snapping him from his thoughts. He's glancing at the other idiots in the room, who are all making faces, but this is just the opportunity Damian has been waiting for.

He's not about to let them ruin it with their stupid demand to join Father in the field.

He raises his chin, blurting out his demand. "If we all stay behind, Uncle Daniel shall go with you, Father. To keep you safe."

Both men look butler disgusted, which is what prompts Drake to speak up. "You know Bruce? I actually feel a little under the weather today. Maybe I can stay with Damian, and Mr. Fetnon can go for me."

"That won't be necessary when Steph-"

"Oh shoot B! I have this really big essay due tomorrow, and I was going to stay on coms tonight while I worked on it. I can't go with you. Sorry"

Father appears desperate when he flings his eyes to Richard, who only shrugs. "Sorry, Cass and I are going undercover tonight at the new club. I can't watch your back while trying to get party college kids to tell me where the new drugs are."

"Jason-"

"No."

"I guess I have no choice." Uncle Daniel sighed as if this was all a big chore that Damian had thrown at him. "I'll make sure your incompetence doesn't get you killed. Let's go."

Father's teeth are gritting, but when the visitor steps closer to whisper in his ear, all the protest drains from his body, and he, too, sighs wearily. Damian wished he knew what was said between them, but his uncle had covered his mouth, so he could not lip read.

"Fine. But no killing." Father bites, and Uncle scowls

"I don't kill. I know how precious any life can be." He seers, getting into Father's face. He stabs his pointer finger in the middle of Bruce's chest, pressing down roughly on every syllable.

Damian is about to step in, recognizing the rising anger in his mother's brother, only to watch, in real-time, as Father seems surprised by the comment. Much to his hopeful glee a slight blush rises on the man's cheekbones, even as he turns around to moved the clock.

Uncle rolls his eyes before sinking into the ground as Father vanishes from sight. The office has a long silence before Brown breaks it with a nasty snort.

Utterly mannerless, that one.

"Oh, the sexual tension! They will definitely be fuc-" She cackles, only to pause when her eyes land on Damian as if she had forgotten he was there. Brown reached up to pet down her hair, clearing her throat. "They seem like good friends."

"What? I don't believe you understand. Father and Uncle can barely stand each other."

Drake snickers. "Barely stand"

"Enough," Richard speaks up, popping open the top two buttons on his shirt. It's part of his disguise to look as alluring as possible, though Damian doubts someone would give an idiot who can't correctly dress himself the time of day. "Let's leave Bruce and our house guest alone. We all have jobs, so Steph, get on coms, Tim, get some chicken soap, and Damian, get to bed."

"Wait, I'm not actually sick-" Drake protests, but Richard walks right through his protest. He pushes the idiot out of the office and marches him down the hall toward the kitchen.

Damian watches them go before glancing over his shoulder to where Brown vanishes from sight down the pole to the Batcave in a flash of yellow hair. He nearly joins her, but Uncle would have his head when- and it would be when, not if- he found out he wasn't sleeping.

He still has a year to get them together. He must make sacrifices that wound his pride, such as these. Damian pouts to his room but changes into his sleepwear and brushes his teeth anyway.

His bedtime is only ten minutes away.

[icypopz]

bathing with them ♡

↬ request from anon ; Hiiii may I pls request the love and deepspace boys with a reader who loves taking baths with them??

↬ notes ; rafayel, xavier, zayne x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; ice active era?! jk we all know i'm lying atp HAHAHA but here's my annual post which is also my first post for LADS :> i changed the prompt a bit but i hope u enjoy !

↬ warning(s) ; tiny spoilers for rafayel's backstory, xavier's is like microscopically suggestive

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ rafayel ! ]

rafayel absolutely adores taking baths with you, even though he loves to tease you about being too clingy (he's actually the clingy one, but he'll never admit it for the world). he loves just chilling in the bathtub with you, especially on winter nights where he'll pull you closer in the hot water, complaining that "i need more warmth! protect me from the cold, miss bodyguard!"

he would get playfully annoyed when you joke about wanting to see his mermaid tail when he gets into the bathtub, scolding you about how lemurians also have powers to lure humans in and he'll be doing that to you if you don't get in the bath with him "right now!" also rafayel doesn't really like rubber ducks, he says it's weird that humans like to put toys like that in the water when they could just go swim in a lake if they wanted to see ducks. but! he does love bubble baths, he loves to put the bubbles in your hair, and when you make a beard for him with the foam, he finds it the cutest ever.

rafayel definitely has like several hundred bottles of soap, shampoo and conditioner in varying scents, claiming that their fragrance was so inspiring he just had to buy all of them. (the truth is, he wasn't sure which one you'd like so he just bought everything.) it's really helpful for when you stay over at his place though, you don't have to worry about packing a vanity case because he keeps everything ready for you, from your favourite toothpaste to a spare toothbrush. he also loves seeing you wrapped up in a towel, he thinks you look so adorable.

more content utc !

[ xavier ! ]

xavier isn't picky, he doesn't mind using either a bathtub or a shower, but after you visit him a couple of times, you definitely tell him he should use the shower instead. he always ends up falling asleep while he's soaking in the bathtub! he definitely loves showering with you though, he'll always do stuff like scrub your back or help comb through your tangled hair without you needing to ask. but it's almost impossible for both of you to bathe quickly, because you always end up getting distracted. who can you blame you though? it's not your fault xavier is so muscled from all his training!

xavier is the type who showers in freezing cold water, but he's willing to compromise if you don't like that. he ends up realising that hot water is more fun because he gets to write silly messages and draw hearts for you on the glass since it gets fogged up from the steam. also xavier's brain would totally crash the first time he showered with you, it would be that one tender night card all over again except better LOL. he's just that obsessed with you, you're the prettiest person with the best personality he's ever seen!

xavier would be one of those guys that has like the '10-IN-1! SHAMPOO, CONDITIONER, SOAP!' soap bottles. it's not that he isn't bothered about hygiene, he just finds it a lot simpler to use one single bottle for everything, and it evidently works for him since his skin is so clear and his hair is so fluffy. but ever since you've started staying over, xavier takes note of your favourite soaps and stocks up on them (especially after you tease him for that pitiful bottle of soap in his bathroom - he's the type to squeeze out every single last drop of soap from the tube so the bottle definitely looks like it has been through The Horrors).

[ zayne ! ]

zayne would usually prefer showering over bathing usually, because he's used to maximising time for work in his schedule, so he likes everything in his personal life to be extremely efficient. but once he starts dating you, that does kind of change. on days where he doesn't have to rush into work for urgent cases, or nights after a hectic day, he enjoys relaxing with you in the bathtub - it's a little slice of heaven for him to have you pressed up against him in the warm water.

zayne likes using his evol to tease you while you're showering. though he isn't usually a playful person and his humour is quite dry, the intimacy of being in such close proximity to him makes him act up a little LOL. so when you ask him to soap your back or anything like that, he'll purposely make his fingertips cold so you shiver when he touches you. "zayne!" you'll scold him, and he'll just let out a soft chuckle before doing what you actually asked him to.

zayne would just have the bare minimum essentials in his bathroom, but i also think he would be the type to buy in bulk so he only has to go out shopping once in a while. this way, when his soap runs out he can just get a new bottle from his cupboard. he likes going into his bathroom and seeing little traces of you all over the room, like your toothbrush in his cup or your favourite soap on his shelf - it makes him happy because it's like a reminder of you even when you aren't there.

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.