#Maybe I will once school is over who knows

[jiminiecrickets]

KILLER? I BARELY KNOW HER! FUSHIGURO TOJI / M!READER

summary. shadows of your past catch up to you – but you're the strongest, and there's nothing you can't handle.

wc. 5.5k

tags. smut | top reader, bottom toji. mentions of underage drinking. sorcerer + teacher reader, enemies-to-lovers (with extra steps), sorta sugar baby toji/rich reader, doggystyle + missionary, mentions of exhibitionism + filming, unprotected sex, brief degradation (r. receiving), brief breeding kink, implied shower sex

notes. every dark-haired male jjk character deserves a silly and illogically powerful best friend with whom they have romantic tension :3 you're him. literally.

The pleasant chime of the doorbell echoes throughout your home. You're not expecting anyone.

You know you should be careful. In fact, you shouldn't be staring at the back of the front door at all. Opening it would ruin the carefully put-together façade of the closed-curtain windows and dark rooms.

Maybe you're tired, and you forget, moving on instinct. Maybe you're bored.

Maybe you're hopeful.

The door inches open, and a man looks up from where he'd been staring listlessly at the flower-spotted bushes lining the patch of green between the entrance and the driveway. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, and his eyes are dark, flickering with an emotion you can't quite catch before it flutters away.

"Toji?" you say, the surprise in your voice teetering on warmth. "Hey..."

"Hey," he replies – exhales, really, something like a hum. He reaches up by his shoulder, the action too familiar for you not to stiffen, but he just rubs the back of his neck, stretching out the cricks of his body. "So. New place, huh?"

Your hand rests behind the door. He knows better than to expect it to be empty. "Old, technically. It was my first property purchase."

He tilts his head. "Yeah? When did you get it?"

"Fifteen. A birthday present for myself – a gift for surviving another year of high school. And curses, I guess. Surviving them was way worse because getting their blood in my mouth made me want to die."

He scoffs, and the raised scar over the corner of his lips shifts with his amusement. "Fifteen... And what does a teenager do with a house?"

You shrug. "Drink. Party. Pirate movies. The usual."

"Hah. Sounds like you were a fun kid." Toji scuffs the toe of his sandals against the ground absently. Then he rolls his neck and sighs. "Look, I didn't come all the way here to talk history. Long-ass way out, too, so just let me in."

Lifting an eyebrow, you give him a once-over that feels keener than it should be. "Are you here to kill me?"

"What, you think I'm here for that bounty? Who do you think I am?"

"Don't blame me. You seem very well aware of it."

"Isn't worth the effort for the price. 'Sides, you've given me more than that over the years, haven't you? I like to keep my options open, and it seems to me like it's a better investment to keep you alive."

"You talk as if you could kill me at all," you mutter, a little disdainfully, but it dissipates swiftly when Toji cracks a smirk, so familiar and entwined deeply with your favourite memories. The breeze stirs lightly, and Toji's hair ruffles, almost blue in the sunlight.

"Couldn't I? You're the one who runs away."

"Yeah, after immobilising you. Not a lot of fun to be had if you're dead as a doornail. Say – how deep are you in the jujutsu world? You must be rusty. I'd be willing to help you train."

"You'd help me kill your fellow sorcerers?" He chuckles and arches a brow. "I'll have you know I'm looking at a contract worth thirty million from a bunch of religious crazies."

"Peanuts." You wave a dismissive hand. "Now that I mention it, I'm getting complacent, too... I could use the challenge. Keep in contact with me and I'll pay you double."

"You're paying me to use my body?"

"Your words, not mine."

He holds your gaze steadily for a while, and despite his airy voice, his eyes are thoughtful. "Let's not talk business on your doorstep. Lost your manners, have you?"

Finally, your shoulders loosen, and the tension in your body vanishes. With a soft chuckle, you pull the door open further and step aside. "Don't make me regret this."

"Please," he says, slipping out of his sandals and into your home. "You never do."

Zenin. Fushiguro. The Sorcerer Killer. All of his names, all of his history, and yet, to you, he is just your baby – your Toji. It'd be embarrassing if he cared enough to be embarrassed, he thinks as you draw him into a rib-shattering hug. Instead, he feels smug.

Before that Gojo kid, there was you. It wasn't a position you were born for – like the kid was – but you trained your way up and eventually found yourself most suited for the role, all but waltzing into it – because what youth wouldn't want to be number one? It was almost gross, your selflessness and single-minded ambition, and Toji knew how that sort of mindset made the people in power feel. They commissioned him for your death at one point, after all.

It was fun. You were both so young: dancing around each other's weapons as if it was all a stage, chasing each other's clues like a couple of dogs running after a bone. Still – you were society's best, the cream of the crop, and for you to be his, of all people, was a selfish triumph he indulged in too many times to count.

His hands creep up beneath your baggy shirt as he leans up to kiss you, tongue slipping between your lips to share in the taste of some expensive whisky he can't name. He hums – a low, rumbling sound, like a tiger chuffing – as his fingers bump over thick, warm muscle.

Blood and bone. That's what you all are, when it comes down to it.

"You should wear tighter clothes," he murmurs against your lips. "Less to grab in a fight."

The backs of his thighs press into the edge of the kitchen bench, where a forgotten glass of water sits – the remnant of your half-hearted attempt at being a good host while his lips found your neck.

You huff. "A 'fight', huh? I wasn't expecting one."

"You should always expect a fight. While you're at it, always expect to lose. Stops you from being disappointed."

"Sounds pessimistic."

"That's the price we pay for being good at what we do."

"As if you pay for anything, Toji."

He chuckles. He drops the hem of your shirt before sliding his palms up your chest – what a tease – and cupping your face. His hands are warm, callused, thrumming with lifeblood. He sweeps his thumb absently over your cheek, committing every pore of your face to memory. You have the urge to pull away, look down, like a schoolboy with a crush – but Toji's hands are firm.

"C'mon, at least look me in the eye before we kick this off. You that ashamed of me?"

Startled, your gaze flicks up to his. Instead of the half-wry look you expect, he smirks and pulls you in to meet his lips. His fingers interlace loosely at the nape of your neck, caging you in place, and you have no choice but to bend to his whim.

"Stupid," you mutter against his lips, mostly to yourself. "Stop playing with my feelings, Toji – that's manipulative. You're breaking my heart here."

Rather than pulling away himself, he pushes you away, a palm flat on your chest but without any real power. It remains there as he leans back against the stone countertop. "My bad, baby. It's just funny."

"Funnier than you calling this," you gesture between your chests, "something to 'kick off' after... how many years? If you weren't all over me seconds ago, I'd think you came over for a beer and a game."

He lifts his hands in teasing surrender at your accusatory tone. "All right. We'll fuck, then. Maybe include some heavy petting for the B-roll, if you're up for it. Sound good?"

You cross your arms over your chest and muster up a suitable amount of annoyance for a glare. Toji finds it hard to take you seriously – what with your dumb jokes and ridiculous inclination towards flashy fighting – so to him, it's more of a pout. "So, you got lonely without me, huh? Yeah, nah. We're not filming ourselves."

"Hm." It's not a yes, but it's not a disagreement, either. "Why not? It'd be hot."

"I'm a teacher, Toji," you remind him, clicking your tongue when he shrugs, one hand on his hip. "I don't want that kind of thing to exist. If it got out..."

"So you are ashamed of me," he mutters. He steps forward to grab your hands when you start to protest, visibly distressed. He snickers. "Kidding, kidding. Fuck, it's fun to play with you. You don't care about the other one, then? The one from the abandoned restaurant?"

"Well—" Your breath stutters when Toji absently compares hand sizes and laces your fingers together. You watch as he aligns four of his fingers against your ring finger specifically, one at a time as if comparing again, but this time...

"Well?" he prompts, his grin broadening. His shaggy hair falls across his eyes as he tilts his head.

"Well, I don't look like I did ten years ago, and as far as I know, my face isn't in it..." All logic scatters like leaves in the wind when he looks up at you through his lashes, that playful, pretty smirk of his tugging at your heartstrings just right. It's like the years never passed. You swallow. "I-It was different," you finish lamely.

Toji's eyes flicker down to your lips. With a flick of his wrist, he twists a hand in your collar and tugs you down so that your faces are inches apart. Your chests collide roughly. He doesn't seem to care, his gaze trained on you with a heavy, smoky intensity. "Fine. If you won't let me film it, you better make it memorable. I'll decide later if it was worth coming here for."

—

Toji should have known you were serious when you pulled the bedframe about six inches out from the wall. He'd laughed at first, insulting you for such uptight behaviour regarding something as boring as walls, but you'd just dragged him to the bed with a roll of your eyes.

With how loud he was moaning, you could only be glad that he didn't find you at your apartment property.

"Toji," you breathe, your gaze trapped on the tight, firm ass ricocheting off your hips. Your grip tightens. "Toji."

"Fuuuck," he drawls as his cock throbs, prying his eyes open to narrow them at you over his shoulder. Lust has turned the usual green of them nearly black. "What?" he bites out.

"I missed you. Missed this. Fuck, baby, you're so fucking tight."

He lets out a throaty chuckle, turning back around to rest his head on his forearms. With a shift of your hips, your cock punches his prostate, over and over, and his eyes roll back briefly, a pleased groan rumbling from the depths of his stomach. His dick pulses and swings uselessly between his muscular thighs.

"M-Men are all the same," he grumbles. You click your tongue, though you don't miss the way an involuntary moan makes him stutter.

"Awful way to greet an old friend, you know. I thought you were smarter than that. Try being nicer," you slam your hips forward, making his eyes fly open with a gasp, "and you'll get what you want."

His skin prickles when you glide a warm hand up his side and come to rest it upon his shoulder, holding him down with just enough strength to make his muscles flex to fight it. Your thumb rubs little circles into the back of his neck, tracing the dips of his shoulders until you find what you're looking for. You dig into the taut muscle, making him wince.

"Stressed?" you hum, and your voice is gentle. Gentler than he deserves. "Is it money problems again?"

Something like guilt stirs in his belly, but a well-angled thrust has his thoughts unravelling. "No."

"No?"

"No," he repeats. You hum in response and don't push the matter further.

Your hand lifts from his shoulder, and already he can feel the stiffness returning. Damn those God-hands of yours. He finds himself arching back, bracing against the bed, in an effort to return your hands to their rightful place.

You hush him sweetly, pressing your chest to his back and burying your face in the crook of his neck. The angle has the shaft of your heavy cock pressed right up against his prostate and his body jolts with the fiery burn of pleasure, his knuckles turning white as he fists the sheets. "No need to chase me anymore. Not going anywhere. 'M right here, baby."

Toji manages to scoff, and his voice is steadier than he expects. "Not chasin' you, asshole."

"Yeah? Then what do you call showing up at my door as you did, unannounced?"

"Welfare check."

You roll your eyes. "I hate you."

You punctuate your sentence by yanking his hips back on your cock, the wet squelch of lube and precome making him shudder. Despite the rough treatment, a moan tumbles from his lips, and he laughs, loose and breathy.

"Fuck me like it, then," he dares, knocking his temple gently against yours.

One hand lifts to card through his hair. He groans softly as your nails scrape his scalp, but his eyes fly wide open as you grab a fistful and tug, wrenching him up to kneel. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as you wrap your hand around his leaking cock, jerking him off at the same pace as you fuck into him – he swears he sees stars as your thumb and index finger twist roughly around his swollen tip. His cock squelches in your fist, bubbles of precome sliding down his tip and smearing across your palm.

"Fucker," he snarls, ceasing his split second of flailing to grip your hip and thigh. You'd consider it painful if you hadn't also had the pleasure of being stabbed, slashed, shot, and bitten. "Nngh – so fuckin' big—"

"Going back on our word, are we, honey?" you say slyly, twisting your fist up and down his wet cock. "Tsk, tsk, Toji... so forgetful. I'd say you're getting old."

You glide a fingernail up the line of his vein, making his hips stutter and forcing another curse to slip from his lips, and you dig the tip of your finger roughly into his leaking slit. He moans and his back arches against your hold as your throbbing cock easily slides deep into him, the harsh, rapid smack of your balls against his ass almost disorienting.

He shudders. The heat of his body pulls his skin too tight, makes his tongue heavy and clumsy. Your hands are not quite soft – years of weapons training and hand-to-hand combat would do that to someone – but they're sweet on him. Loving, nearly. Your warmth softens the rub of calluses and tough scar tissue, and Toji learns them anew.

"C'mon, baby... want you to talk to me. Love your pretty little sounds." You end the sentence in a whisper, patting his stomach with the absent sort of friendliness you had as a youth. You never shied away from touching him, rewarding him with your weight draped over his shoulders or entwining your fingers when he did something that pleased you.

That familiar feeling jolts him back to reality. He glances your way – perhaps to say something, but he doesn't remember what about – and you capture his lips with yours, tilting your head and running your tongue over his lower lip.

He keeps them sealed, airtight.

You groan into the kiss and nip at him pleadingly, because you'd have to break Toji's jaw to get him to open up – and you couldn't do that to your favourite killer. Your name falling from his lips like a prayer is too sweet to pass up on.

Eventually, with enough petting and kisses, Toji relents, if only to see you perk up like a puppy tossed a bone. He groans softly as you explore his mouth, tongue curling around his and gliding over his teeth.

Your breath is hot and sweet against his, your lips shockingly gentle despite the quick and steady pace of your hips bouncing off his ass. He jolts every time your cockhead kisses his prostate, swollen and sensitive from your unrelenting pace. His dick bobs, dark red and pulsing hotly in your palm, and he groans like an injured animal. It's almost desperate.

Your shaft drags against his slick walls, which clench with a rippling squeeze as if he's trying to milk you dry. With each hungry snap of your hips, your tip punches the breath out of his lungs. His vision blots out, and he swears he can feel your cock in his damn throat.

Without warning, and without a word, he comes, his expression going lax with pleasure as he releases thick ropes onto his stomach. It's four hard spurts and two weaker pulses, the slow, measured tugs of your wrist twisting in a way that has his thick thighs trembling.

You coo softly, and Toji's face is uncharacteristically warm. Little kisses drift their way up his shoulder and neck and he sighs softly, eyes shut and head tilted back against your shoulder. You press your palm against his chest to feel the heart thudding beneath his ribs, the rise and fall with each shallow breath.

You cup his chest and squeeze.

He cracks an eye open, disapproval furrowing his brows. In response, you grin cheekily and nip at his earlobe as you smooth your fingers through his hair – a silent apology for being so rough.

To his credit, he lets it go. Doesn't even smack you for being an ass. He does, however, clamp down punishingly around your cock when he pulls off, making you hiss at the scrape. It bobs and you shiver at the cold air.

Thoughtfully, Toji glances down at it, still hard as rock and curving upwards towards your stomach. He reaches for it.

Your eyes widen when he slips a nail under the edge of the condom. "Wh-What are you doing?"

"Don't sound so scared. I know we're both safe. Said ya missed me, right?" He grins, dark and sharp, with eyes half-lidded – almost coy. "I'll let you finish inside me. For old times' sake."

"Contract-sanctioned stalking? I thought better of you, Toji." Despite your flippant words, your breath hitches, and Toji's grin widens. He tugs the slick condom off and tosses it aside – without even tying it up, the bastard – and before you can grumble about it, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him, and presses his lips to yours.

You groan softly as he parts his lips and allows you in. He shifts closer, his knee between yours, and grabs your hand. He brings it down between your bodies.

"Baby..." you whisper as he wraps your hand around your lengths, pressed together. He is hot and velvety in your palm.

"Mm." The sound is deep and content, and he blinks up at you slowly like a cat. "I know. I want it."

Then, slinging his arm loosely around your shoulders, he pulls you down with him.

You barely manage to catch yourself before crushing him, your instincts and reflexes dulled by familiarity and a dreamy languor. Not that you think he'd mind – not with that grin.

Toji spreads his knees and hooks his calves around your thighs. He guides your cock into him again, and he rumbles out a pleased moan as it buries itself hilt-deep into his slick warmth.

His head falls back against the pillows as you press your hips flush against his ass. "Ah, shit..."

"You good, baby?" you murmur, swallowing harshly as his gummy walls flutter tightly around you, as if he can lock you inside forever. Your dick twitches.

"Mmh, fuck, jus' sensitive. Move."

It's only natural that you obey.

Toji feels hotter now that you don't have the layer of plastic to contend with – hotter, wetter, hungrier. You thrust shallowly at first, but as his moans grow louder – less restrained – you allow yourself to move tip-to-base, deep and dirty the way he used to like it. Seems he still does. The rim of his puffy asshole catches on the ridge of your cockhead and his nails rake down your shoulders and back, leaving stinging raised lines in their wake.

Pride fills your chest, inflates your ego. An infamous assassin, the Sorcerer Killer, spread wide and inviting with his cheeks all flushed – he's certainly given you a thousand little deaths. You grip the meat of his ass and lift his hips off the mattress, fucking into his wet heat at a new angle that has him shouting your name.

Maybe it's because you can see his face – see all the pretty cock-drunk expressions that wash over his features – that you find yourself chasing the precipice of release embarrassingly fast. He locks his legs around your waist, thick and muscular, and you want to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Why would you ever want to leave?

"Toji," you grunt, panting softly. "'M gonna..." Your breath fans against his sweat-slick skin, making him shiver and arch into your touch. He cups the back of your neck as you nibble and suck dark bruises into his tanned skin, his lashes fluttering as you shift his thighs on your lap and leave far too many deep red hickeys printed on his skin. You even scatter a few across his collarbones and chest, and you're only pleased when he looks like he was mauled by a bear.

He pants softly, his bitten moans making your cock throb even harder. Fuck, you're so hard – the shape of your teeth printed into his skin for all to see makes you prouder than you'd ever admit. You trace the marks gently with your fingertips and Toji's chest stutters.

Gazing up at you with lidded, unfocussed eyes, he laughs, freer than he had since you met him earlier. Your heavy cock plunges into his stretched hole, again and again and again like you're trying to make him take, and your grip on one of his thighs is tight enough to leave red crescents. He grasps your face, turning it down towards him, and offers a sleazy, roguish grin, breathless. His eyes trace the cut of your cheeks, the curve of your lips.

"You look less stupid than usual. S'all you're good for, ain't it? Fucking me nice an' deep with that fat cock of yours – f-fuck. S'mine, yeah? All mine?"

You shudder and groan, bone-deep, and Toji can feel the heavy throbbing of your cock leaking inside him. The slick feeling of you against his walls builds a hot ball of arousal in his lower belly. Your chest heaves against his and your stomach tenses, familiar planes of muscle firm against his hand. Excitement roars through him like a wildfire – eager and keening.

He yanks you down for a devouring kiss as you come, catapulting off the precipice into white bliss. You gasp into it. His ass clenches around you with his own release as he moans, his soft walls stroking you and sucking you in.

He's so fucking warm, so fucking wet. His body is slick with sweat and he shoves his tongue into your mouth like a man starved. Maybe he is. You groan, low and pleased, and his thighs tighten around you like a cage, possessive in his hungry, unyielding embrace.

Spilling into him is heaven. You've died and ascended, you're certain of it. He drinks you deep, as if he was made for it, and lets his head fall back against the pillows with a less-than-steady sigh as your balls tighten and pulse hotly against his skin. Dragging it out, you grind your hips into his ass in lazy circles, huffing and puffing against his throat as if you've run a marathon. Your fingers graze his own, fluttering in a way that seems almost... uncertain.

Hah. As if you knew what that word meant. You were unshakeable, infallible. The strongest. You'd hold onto that title for as long as you could; the burden was heavy.

Rather disappointingly, you don't choose to hold his hands. They glide down his waist and hips, making him shiver, and you slowly pull out, the solid but gentle grip on his thighs never wavering. You set him down as if he was made of glass and his body twitches as thick come leaks from his stretched hole, dripping and pooling white below his ass.

He tosses a lazy arm over his eyes, bending one knee and bracing against the bed. Another hot gush of come. "Ah, f-fuck... shit. You still come like a truck..."

Your gaze, once so dark and sultry as if you were about to eat him alive, now snaps to him, wide and kind and so embarrassed that Toji can't help but crack a grin.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He rolls his eyes. "Other than the hickeys, no. Wouldn'ta minded it anyway," he adds slyly, peering out from within the shadow of his arm. "Pretty hot when you get creative."

Shuffling off of the bed with a soft chuckle, you pick up the discarded condom and toss it in the bin. You pull open the wardrobe with a flex of a wall of muscles that Toji watches keenly, spreading his knees to eye you through them. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.

"Y'know, I was thinking," you begin suddenly, rifling through clothes and drawers.

"You can do that?"

"Shut up. I was thinking about you – your situation."

He closes his eyes and sinks back into your bed. "When'd you have the time? Not while you were fucking me, I hope."

"Just listen, Toji." You turn around, washcloth in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other. Dark, but loose and unremarkable – as he prefers it. You toss the clothes at the bottom of the bed and disappear into the adjoining bathroom, raising your voice as the faucet squeaks on. "I was wondering if you'd wanna... you know – catch up. Or at least let me help you."

You continue, "I could find you a place in a better school zone, get you set up legitimately. Honestly, actually, you wouldn't even need to work. You could just focus on your family and I'd take care of the rest."

Toji sits up, ignoring the pinch of pain and the mess between his legs. It'll ache later, so he'll deal with it later. "What?"

"I said—"

"Yeah, yeah, heard you the first time. But why?" He lowers his voice as you return to him and begin to clean him up. He meets your eyes and his mouth takes on the beginning slant of a smirk. "My ass that good, huh? You want me to be your sugar baby?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "You're not that hot, Toji. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Wasn't talking about my face. Still – it's not like you to beg me to go on the straight and narrow. What's with that?"

"At the risk of sounding humiliatingly sappy after sex," you sigh, sitting back and dropping the cloth aside, "I still care about you. A whole fucking lot. I only want good things for you, Toji, and I have all this excess wealth that I can't donate fast enough, so if I can change just two more lives – I'd beg for the chance."

The desire to change lives without ending others'. He can understand the sentiment.

"What would you want from me?"

For a moment, you're taken aback by the tiredness in his voice. You blink. "Nothing? Like I said, the money would just vanish into a charity otherwise. Well – maybe I'd like to be invited over on the weekends, and maybe drop off-slash-pick up itty-bitty Megumi every so often. He's that age, right? Oh – and you gotta let me into the kitchen. I make a mean lasagne. Wonder if the boy would like it..."

He snorts. "That's a lot of conditions."

"Well, I am offering to let you live like a plump and happy housewife, so..."

He's quiet for a while, his hair falling over his eyes in a way that blocks your view of his face. You toss a rolled-up towel at his head, and he catches it without looking.

He lowers the towel. "You... don't seem to care that I left you."

"No, I didn't at all care that my friend dropped off the face of the earth without warning." You cross your arms and scoff, the smile slipping from your face. "I only heard about what happened months after you vanished, and by that time, there was nothing I could do to search for you. I had too many people looking at me to dig up old underground contacts and not enough time to comb through the country myself. You could have talked to me, you know," you say, your voice softening. "I would never turn you away."

He shrugs, noncommittal. "It's like you said – too many people looking at you. Would be alarming if I came strolling up to your door, wouldn't it?"

"You did today," you point out.

"Yeah, when there's a bounty on your head. I could be killing you right now."

You scoff, though the hint of a smile flickers across your lips. "You're impossible. But fair point. Just... think it over, okay? Come find me after all this bounty business is over and done with. You know where I live."

Toji chuckles softly, and he accepts your offered hand. You lead him to the large bathroom and he threads his towel over the rod next to what must be yours. He stares longer than he should, but the sight of the two towels beside each other – his green, yours blue – forms a lump in his throat that's hard to swallow around. His heartbeat quickens.

The sound of water hitting the tiles fills the bathroom. He raises his voice over it. "Hey."

Glancing over, your arm shimmering with water droplets from where it rests against the faucet handle, you tilt your head wordlessly.

"I should be picking up the kid in a couple of hours," he explains, "at six. As far as he and the childcare know, I work a normal nine-to-five like the rest of 'em. You could go."

Your eyes widen, and you let out an endeared laugh. "Toji, Megumi doesn't know who I am. The last time we met, he was a newborn. I'm not about to give everyone a heart attack by showing up on your behalf."

"It wouldn't be on my behalf, dumbass." His tone borders between disparaging and fond. "I'd go with you."

"Wh—?" Your throat bobs harshly. The shower seems forgotten, and Toji pushes you backwards into it with a palm on your chest because he's not about to waste the water. It pours onto your head, your hair beginning to stick to your face, and it still doesn't seem to register. A smile pulls at his lips as he reaches for your body wash, scanning the label while your brain putters out and short-circuits.

You didn't expect an answer that soon.

"You heard me," he says coolly, as if this is a normal Tuesday for him. He squirts a dab of body wash onto his palm. "Isn't this what you asked for? In my opinion, it's not that fun. I get a lot of women chattin' me up while we wait. Awkward as hell since I can't be rude or they might tell their kids, and then their kids won't like Megumi... ah, it's a big deal. You being there will help. You love to talk, so you can do it for me. Good game plan, right?"

"Toji, I..."

"The fact that I'm talking more than you worries me."

"You said pick-up's at six, right?" you say suddenly, the glint in your eyes intensifying.

He arches a brow, glancing up at you. "Yeah."

"That means we have an hour." You lean in, trapping him against the glass of the shower. There's a hint of mania in your gaze, starved with a vehement zeal. "I'm gonna fuck you, now."

His eyes widen. A feral grin spreads across his face. He laughs against your throat and moans when you press your thumb roughly into one of the many hickeys littering his neck and chest. "You're crazy. Fuckin' crazy – oi."

It's disturbingly easy for you to lift him by his thighs and press him against the cool glass. His skin prickles as he grips your shoulders and mutters, his breath mingling with yours: "If you drop me, I'll kill you."

"Promise?" you ask with a breathless grin.

He crushes his lips to yours. No one else gets the privilege of taking your little deaths.

[musingsofmajesty]

𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝐈𝐈

summary now that you’ve kissed, the two of you can’t help but wonder what it means moving forward. Luckily, it’s so easy being with each other that taking it day by day doesn’t seem half bad | wc 1.1k

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[best enjoyed in order, but not required! ♡]

.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．

If it’s one thing shy!eddie knows well, it’s labels. They’ve been forced on him all his life. But this—whatever has blossomed between the two of you—he can’t quite pin down. And the universe sure as hell isn’t gonna step in and do it for him. For once, the cards are in his hands, and he doesn’t know what to do with them. 

Later that night, he walks you out to your car, and it’s one of the hardest things he’s ever done. The feeling of your lips still lingers on his. He’s never wanted anyone to stay as badly as right now.

Nevertheless, you hug him one last time, and he gets the door for you without second thought because he’s always done so. Even before you made butterflies a permanent fixture in his stomach. 

“Thanks, Teddy,” you lilt as you settle behind the wheel. “Can I call you that?” You’re teasing, but only partly.  His blush is evident in the glow of the streetlamps that illuminate Forest Hills against the night. 

He hasn’t heard that nickname since it came past his mother’s lips when he was a boy. He smiles a little, lifts a shoulder as if he’s more indifferent than he is. “If you want," he says. 

You’re quiet for a beat, then cutely scrunch your nose up at him. “But what do you want?”  Eddie blinks like he hasn’t heard the likes of this question in a long while. 

“You can call me Teddy,” he decides. You could call him Edward for all he cared. Whatever you wanted, really. That’s when he realizes he’s in trouble. The best kind. 

Shy!Eddie who can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happens, but realizes he’s begun to pay more mind to the way he looks—undoubtedly because of you. One morning at 7 AM, his Uncle Wayne knocks on the bathroom door. Inside, he hears the startled sound of a tub of hair gel tumbling into the sink. “Shit—I’ll be out in a second!” 

An affectionate smirk pulls at Wayne's lips. “Guess I'll use it outside like a dog,” he jokes.  

Later that day, as Mrs. O’Donnell lectures the class, Eddie feels you poke the end of your pencil into the side of his ribcage from where you sit behind him. The way he straightens makes you smile, and he shoots a discreet glance over his shoulder to see what you want. Except your gaze is cast out the window in feigned innocence. 

Three minutes later, he curls in on himself as the ticklish pokes start up again. This time, you pass him a ripped piece of notebook paper that features your neat, bubbly handwriting: hi, handsome ;) 

All Eddie can do is helplessly flush with warmth. 

A couple weeks later, as you’re painting your nails on your best friend’s bedroom floor, you think aloud, “Me and Eddie.” Robin peers down at you from her bed, where she absentmindedly braids a strand of her hair. “I think we’re a sure thing.” 

Her brows lift in surprise. “So you’re official?” 

You purse your lips in consideration. “No, we’re just…us.” 

Robin frowns at first, but eventually nods because, maybe, that’s all love was ever meant to be. Unadulterated in the sense that it could never be bogged down to titles and definitions. 

“Sweet,”  she finally says. 

You nod and begin to smile at the thought of him. The way he gives you his full attention whether you’re talking about life at large or your day. The way he bites back his own goofy smile whenever he unintentionally makes you laugh—which happens all the time. The way he’s welcomed you into his little world.

You’re remiss that you weren’t braver sooner. 

“Yeah,” you agree in a wistful exhale. It is pretty sweet. You raise your hand to gently blow over the sheer pink polish coated on your fingertips. 

Like clockwork, the dismissal bell sounds to denote the end of yet another school day. A few more months, and you'll be kissing these stuffy, bustling halls goodbye.

Eddie catches up with you at your locker and asks if you’d like to go hang out with him in the woods behind the school. It’s nice out today. 

You narrow your eyes as you shut the metal door. “So was this your plan all along? Get my guard down so you can lure me into the woods and go in for the kill?” 

He knows you’re joking, but his answer is sincere anyway. His big bambi eyes dark and gooey as he says, “Never. No way.”

There’s a picnic table nestled amidst the tall trees, as it turns out. A calming breeze glides through the branches and rustles their leaves. Eddie sits first and expects you to choose the bench across from him, but you sit on the same side. You want to be near him. He can’t complain.

A comfortable silence settles between you that he eventually breaks. “Used to come out here a whole lot," he says. “I’d write songs or sit and listen to music," he lists. "Enjoy the scenery…” his words fade as his eyes settle back on you. There’s a tender depth to your gaze. 

He smiles a bit self-consciously, but he's not exactly embarrassed. More so hyperaware because you always make him feel so seen. “What?” he murmurs. 

Without a single word, you scoot closer to press your lips to his. One of his hands rise to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin. This kiss is different. Deeper. Unlike your usual affectionate pecks in every way. 

Warmth kindles in your stomach when his initial hesitancy dissipates. As he finds his way, his lips move sure and easy against your own. Plush and warm. You can feel his gentle exhales puff from his nose, and against your own desire, you slowly begin to pull away to ensure all this is alright.  

But Eddie’s okay. He’s more than okay. For the first time since he’s known you, he feels the soft tug of frustration in his chest. Except it’s not rooted in irritation. It’s rooted in want. 

When he leans back in, cheeks flushed and dark eyes hopeful, you let his lips just barely graze yours before you pull away. He tries again, and you lean back once more, flustered and excited by his newfound boldness. 

You place a gentle hand on his chest and chuckle despite yourself. “Easy, Teddy,” it’s a honeyed warning that carries no bite. 

“C’mere,” he insists, a pout on his face even though it's threatened by a smile. "Wanna kiss you." His voice drops low and shy, like it's a secret.

When you giggle, butterflies aflutter in your stomach, he takes it upon himself to hold you steady and kiss the sweet sound from your lips. 

The two of you are a sure thing, indeed.

Thanks for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated ♡

a/n making this a series because I can't get enough of these two. Stay tuned for the formal announcement!

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[kyunniebuns]

Helloooo :3. I wanna know how Jin Woo deals with S/O who got bullied in high school because of her face and always feels insecure because of that. And also isolates and distances herself whenever people hurt her feelings. Requesting headcanons and one shot if u r free of course! :0

˗ˏˋ Entry : 061 - Sung Jinwoo x Bullied! Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[ BULLYING. Heavy depictions of depression, anxiety, body/face dysmorphia, avoidance of mirrors, idealization of self-harm/mutilation. I've been a victim of bullying so this is quite personal. Fluff Ending]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ When the flowers wilts first instead of blooming ] ¡! ❞

Pretty privilege.

Even if you're a child, you know it's a thing. Of course, you can't quite pinpoint why you're being treaed the way you are. But there is that weird inkling that something is going terribly wrong.

The boys in class often snicker at you, making fun of you for no reason in front of your oblivious face. You can tell there is some sort of mockery coming from them and that they treat other girls in class quite differently.

With the other girls, they are respectful and even trying to suck up with them? With you? They're actively snorting and getting off on making you miserably.

It's the little things they say that slowly degraded your poor mind over time.

"Your smile is weird"

"Your cheeks are too fat"

"Hey, can you quit laughing for a bit? You look ugly as hell hahah"

"It's the freak"

With the girls? Oh it gets worse.

They wont shut up about how your features are grotesque and even downright disgusting.

That's odd, you just wanted to be friends with everyone, yet here you are being the center of ridicule— Being pushed out of every single chance to make genuine connection just because they didn't like the way you look.

Well.. It isn't too bad.

There's a boy in class who befriended you. He listened to every story you have and he even laughs at the jokes you make even if you have picked them up from everybody else. If you mimic the popular kids, everyone will like you more right?...

Right?

However that same boy you thought was your friend had been secretly mocking you with his popular friends. He had been making fun of you no matter how kind and outgoing you were with him.

From then on? You started to slowly isolate yourself from everyone.

But somehow, the bullying only got worse.

It was to the point that everyone laughs at you during class and teasing you whenever you try to participate in class. They make wild noises whenever it's your turn to report.

Everyone, everyone just wont stop hurting you.

How about the adults? Surely they will help?

"... Just, try to ignore them, yeah?" — Was the reply the adults with give.

That's funny, shouldn't teachers be taking your side? You're the one who is being wronged here. You're the one who is getting the cruel end of these so called jokes.

Why is everyone making fun of you?

Even outside of the classroom and in the schoolbus— The kids younger and older than you are all a bunch of jerks who gaslight you everytime you try to be friendly with them.

One day, you decided to please everyone and sit on the floor because the pretty girls and the boys deserve it. The reward of your obedience?

Water gets poured on the top of your head and they all cackle in joy.

You went home soaking that day, sobbing miserably as your bag's contents are also drowning in water. Of course, your family confronted the school.

But the solution? Somehow eveything goes fucking downhill even more.

You're pushed out of all social circles. You're considered a goddamn freak.

And thus, the once bubbly and outgoing you had been stripped down to an anti-social and anxious loser that everyone despises. Anyone who comes across you would look at you with either pity or ridicule.

In the end? It doesn't matter anymore.

At some point, you completely gave up on trying to be friends with anyone and chose to keep to yourself. Maybe you had a few they all left overtime.

So you chose to just... Keep to yourself. What better is there to protect your already battered heart than to make sure nobody dares come close?

If being alone is what it takes to finally have the peace you've been longing for and can avoid all sense of harm— Then so be it.

Alone may you be, but at least you're happy.

꒰ .... ꒱

Meeting you is quite odd for Jinwoo so to speak. Of course, he is well aware of anti-social people who actively avoid any sort of interaction. Even small talk is considered a pure living nightmare to go through.

He tried being friendly with you and Jinwoo can tell no matter how polite and meek you are— You are actively trying to escape the conversation and find ways to shut it off.

Well, he could always leave you alone. But somehow he didn't want to. So even if you were uncomfortable, Jinwoo always attempted to be friends with you.

Slowly, he would notice the little things about you.

Such as your hair being grown in a way that obscures your little face, how you're dressed in thick clothes just to hide your body, how you're always choosing to stand alone in a corner where there is a least amount of students.

He knew of that fact that you're making yourself more and more invisible to everyone else by doing this. And he had an inkling something has gone terribly wrong for you to be this willing to isolate yourself.

Even when he managed to make you warm up to him, he knew you were desperate in making sure you don't offend him in any sort of way. He can see that way your demeanour would change if his tone shifts to a lazier and deeper sound out of nowhere.

You're studying his every movement.

Just like he is studying you.

꒰ .... ꒱

One day, he managed to convince you to come with him to go to the mall. Everything is currently boring and dull for him since there isn't much to do on the last week of the semester thanks to both of you handing everything on time. The only reason why school is still ongoing are for those students that are on the path of repeating the grade.

Everything was going well until you find yourself staring at your own reflection in a mirror.

How grotesque.

Those godforsaken awful cheeks you have, the shape of your eyes being so infuriating to look at, how pathetically built you are, how overall unappealing your appearance were.

If you could just run your cutters all of your fucking face maybe you'd be fixed.

This is why you hated mirrors so much.

They remind you of the disgustingly horrid image you have. Mirrors have a talent of showing the god awful being one is.

Because they don't lie.

These objects are made to reflect the person facing them. Despite being mouthless beings, you always had a feeling these fucking things are mocking you just for existing yourself.

Maybe you should scratch your cheek? That way you can shape them down even more—

"Don't look there." A soft, gentle deep voice calls out as a hand stretched out to block your line of sight towards the mirror.

When you look up, you are only met with a pair of kind grey orbs gazing at you as he says; "How about we go to the park instead?"

Jinwoo then moves his hand to grasp yours, squeezing it a little before guiding you out of the place.

꒰ .... ꒱

The walk in the empty park is silent and awkard, your footsteps being the only source of noise as you trail behind Jinwoo's tall and broad back.

"Sorry..." You say, lowering your head as you paused in your steps. "I ruined your shopping day."

"I was getting bored anyway, it's fine" He shrugs, waving his hand dismissively.

"Still," You purse your lips, feeling even more awful since you know Jinwoo is just being kind to you.

"You're always working hard to not make me mad, it wouldn't hurt to be a bit mean sometimes" Jinwoo reaches over to mess up your head.

"You... Are very aware of what I did before, yet you're still nice to me?"

Ah yes, that story, that story where you sent a kid limping in the hallways leaving a trail of blood from his bleeding nose. He finds it a little funny that you think you would scare him, the same bastard who put monarchs at their graves and sending god's army packing when they tried to pull another bullshit in his regression.

Still, it is awfully cute of you in his mind.

"I don't know what they did to you, or what they said that you're this anxious and afraid of ever offending me— But I only care about making you happy." He then becomes a bit flustered as he realized his own words. "W-well, I mean, hahah... That sounds so bad, I just,... Er... You're pretty cute when you smile so—"

Jinwoo stopped talking as he feels you suddenly throwing your arms around him.

"Hey..." He sighs, rubbing your back gently as he feels your tears soaking up his hoodie.

Being called cute by someone like him feels unreal, but somehow you can tell he isn't lying or just saying it to say something. Jinwoo for one has never lied to you, sure, he keeps things to himself most of the time. But he never lied.

So it's okay to trust him, right? it's okay to give him your heart even for just a little bit? With him, it feels like you;re healing a part of yourself that got broken overtime due to the bullying and isolation you had to put yourself through just so you can make sure no one can hurt you ever.

Jinwoo could only cradle you, sighing deeply as his rough fingers card through your strands affectionately. He should've reached out sooner.

Just from the raw, unfiltered and broken sobs that you are emitting— He can tell your cries are an amalgamation of sorrow, pain and loneliness that has long been brewing throughout the years of no solace.

"Joonwoo, Ae-yeong, Hajoon, Beom-shik, Eun-ae" He starts listing a bunch of names and ten other more.

Names familiar to you.

"Those are their names, right?" Jinwoo asks softly, receiving a soft nod from you.

He keeps your head firmly pressed against his shoulder as his face contorts that of pure malice. The undead soldiers hiding inside his shadows stir and whine a bit as they sense their master's temper coming to a close boiling point.

"I hope they enjoyed their sleep these past few days, a hellscape nightmares will be coming their way after all."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: I could've been more graphic but I chose to be merciful and choose this. There's more but ehnnn,,, I wanna play hollow knight immed rn<33. To everyone who is suffering from ptsd and body dysmorphia please know you are beautiful and perfect just the way you are. It'll take a long while to heal but you're not alone and never should be. Please surround yourself with happiness and cute things. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[bubbleggum444]

—❝𐌋ITTLE MIƧƧ AC𝚃IVIST!❞

contents damian wayne x fem!reader, new hero!reader au, fluff + angst (n comfort), 3k+ wc. synopsis he knows all too well what it is like to feel like you don't fit it.

This felt so... wrong. Everything and everyone around ___ was just so frustrating, so difficult to deal with.

She had been an activist for as long as she could remember, fighting for what she believed in. But everything changed when she became a hero.

For better or worse? She wasn’t sure. No—oh great, Starfire just burned another tree down. Just perfect. Yeah, definitely worse.

Time and time again, this path hurt. It pulled at her, tore at her, like two different people were fighting for control inside her body.

One part of her—the old her—was someone who spent hours protesting, climbing trees to protect them, boycotting inhumane brands, and helping the vulnerable.

The other—the hero—was someone who saw, day in and day out, just how much destruction heroes left behind in their wake.

She knew her thoughts must have been tiring to others. Maybe even annoying. But she didn’t care. They weren’t her, and she wasn’t them. No one had the right to tell her how to feel about this.

Still, she could only bite her tongue for so long.

During a mission, Beast Boy casually tossed a used water bottle onto the street.

She hesitated, not wanting to sound like a nag. So instead, she simply picked it up, intending to throw it in a trash can.

Then she heard Garfield chuckle.

"Are you our new teammate or the trashman, newbie?"

Ouch.

Even the other Titans fell silent at the remark.

Her fingers clenched around the plastic, her vision burning. She didn’t dare look at any of them. She was too close to breaking.

So she walked away.

She hadn’t planned to. It was an impulsive decision, but that was who she was—rash, reactive. Always ready to act against injustice, even before becoming a hero.

She kept walking until she reached a park bench and collapsed onto it. The moment she was alone, the tears came. She hated this—hated feeling weak, hated that everything was finally catching up to her. The pressure of expectations, the weight of two halves of herself pulling in opposite directions.

It felt suffocating.

Like the disappointment she had seen in her parents’ eyes when she struggled to balance school and activism. The kind of disappointment that didn’t hurt physically but cut so much deeper.

A shiver ran down her spine as something cold wrapped around her from behind.

Whack!

On instinct, she swung back, landing a solid smack on whoever had just grabbed her.

"Damian?!" Her eyes widened.

"Oh my God, I’m so—"

"No, I deserved that," he admitted, rubbing his arm. "I came after you... I just didn’t know how to approach you."

Her chest tightened.

She hadn’t expected anyone to follow her. Least of all Damian.

She couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears that spilled over, but this time, he was ready. He pulled her into another hug, and she let herself sink into it, gripping onto him like she might fall apart otherwise.

"There’s nothing wrong with being someone who picks up trash," she mumbled, voice still thick with emotion.

"That’s a decent, respectable job."

Damian huffed a small laugh.

"That’s not funny—"

"I know."

He tilted her chin up, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. His green eyes searched hers, steady and unreadable.

"I’ve noticed how much you’ve been pushing yourself, ___," he murmured.

"Stepping out of your comfort zone. Going against things you once believed in."

His hand brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary.She held his gaze, her breath catching.

"It’s admirable," he continued, voice softer now. "And... I understand more than you think."

She swallowed hard.

She barely knew Damian. Out of all the Titans, he was the most closed off.

Yet here he was. In a park. In the middle of the night. Holding her. Comforting her.

Was it always this warm at this time of year?

Her voice wavered slightly when she spoke. "Meaning...?"

He exhaled, thumb brushing over her cheek like he was afraid she might break.

"Meaning I’ve been where you are," he admitted. "I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider. To think that no matter what you do, you’ll never truly fit in."

His voice dipped lower, carrying something raw beneath it.

"And it hurt deeply. I rejected those who tried to help me because they were different, yet I embraced the pain from others simply because they were my familiars."

The air between them felt heavy—not with awkwardness, but with something deeper. It was as if their hearts had silently intertwined, speaking in a language beyond words. The weight of unspoken emotions filled the space between them, their rapid beats echoing a conversation only they could understand.

She felt it. The way her heartbeat stumbled, the way something in her chest tightened painfully.

And she could feel his too. Beating, racing—just like hers.

The silence between them was fragile, delicate, like the moment might shatter if either of them spoke.

With one arm dropping to his side, the other wraps itself around her shoulder in a gentle side hug.

"Let’s go get some dumplings," he murmured. "There’s a Chinatown nearby. The vendors stay open late."

Slowly, she let herself relax against him, nodding.

"Okay," she whispered. "Let’s get some pho."

As they walked along the cobblestone streets, ___ let out a quiet giggle.

His cheeks kind of look like dumplings…

She bit her lip to suppress her laughter, but Damian caught it anyway.

His gaze flickered toward her. "What’s so funny?"

She shook her head, smiling to herself.

"Nothing," she said softly. "I’m just really excited for the food."

Damian narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. But he let it go, walking just a little closer to her as they made their way down the dimly lit street.

And for the first time in a long time, ___ felt like maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t so alone after all.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

© — ggυɱi '25

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated

ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ

alsooo BB would NEVA be like this. I just needed a "bag guy" for the story :)👌🏻

[isaspsp]

I think my parents did pretty similar things. I'm feeling sensitive right now so, story sharing time.

I did misbehave every now and then, as all kids do. I don't remember this incident, but my mom does. I was doing whatever naughty thing, and she hit me to make me stop and discipline me. I stopped, started crying, and went away. My mom never hit me after that. She says it's one of her biggest regrets.

I remember when we got our big TV. I was maybe 8-9 and we had been at the store all day. I wasn't particularly interested in picking out a TV cus that seemed like adult business, and children have no right to poke their nose of that. But then, my dad crouches next to me, points to the final two tvs they were deciding between, and asked me which one I thought was best. And I do remember asking, "Why are you asking me this? I am a child." He laughed and said something among the lines of, "Children are always honest." And that gave me all the confidence and reassurance to choose what would be our TV for the next 10+ years.

They took the effort to see my side aswell. I grew up with my cousins. We were 6 kids in total, and with two of them being older, we 4 youngsters played together a lot. Of these four, the oldest used to bully me a lot (I bit him really hard once as revenge, but that is another story) and I had two younger cousins, the youngest of which, was the one I saw most often. He would come with us to trips and such. But he was the younger child, so he had preferences over me. If I had anything he wanted, I HAD to share. If he wanted to sit where I was, I had to move, lest he makes a fuss. But, if he had something that I wanted? He was under no obligation to share. It was Easter time, I was about 13 (?), and we had gotten ourselves fancy chocolate eggs. My aunt had gone along with us to shop. I'd done my research at the site of the store we were going to, so I knew exactly what I wanted. My aunt didn't know what to get my cousin, so she followed my lead and got him the same two eggs. My aunt used to be paid to clean our house once in a while and just so happened that that week my little cousin had come along. I was going to travel that weekend, and my eggs would be left behind, I'd only have them when we came back. So, having been thinking and fantasizing about the chocolate eggs for weeks, I sneaked around, opened one of the boxes, grabbed a piece, ate some, and put the rest in the refrigerator My aunt saw me do this. Later, my parents confronted me about it; my aunt had told them what happened, that I tried to hide just so I wouldn't have to share. I started crying about how if I didn't sneak around I would've had to share with my cousin, who had the exact same egg at his home, who wouldn't have to wait to come back from a trip, and that I would never get the same kindness back, the piece he would've taken from me, the egg that I so researched to get, that I beheaved and did well in school to get, I would have to give away, even if it was a small piece, and tgat, even if I asked nicely, my cousin wouldve said no, and nothing would be done anout it. And the damn was broken, so I mentioned also all the other times I had to give in because I was older, he was younger and I was bigger and could hurt him more. They looked at each other... and agreed with me. I was forced to share less after that. I still shared, of course, but now... I wasn't forced as much. (At least by my parents, we couldn't control everyone or course u_u)

I genuinely remember very VERY few times of my parents taking away my stuff or banning m3 from activities. If I remember at all, because all I have are "vague feelings" that it happened. And honestly, I think I turned out better for it.

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[kashimos-hajime]

—a man | s.r.

summary: "what we need, sweetheart, is a man."

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

a/n: for context, inarizaki is being placed in nishinomiya for the sake of this fic | part of the undateable series

masterlist

The lunch bell shrieks and the students all around give a grumble as they pour back into the class room. You’re in the midst of putting your lunch box away, but the question Mina, your near and dear friend, poses you has your face akin to a woman who’s got sliced lemons wedged into her cheeks. “No, no, I’m fine not dating anyone right now. Akio just dumped me—” you count on your fingers— “two, or, three? Weeks ago.”

“Ugh, but that was nothing. You don’t even care, so why not come with me?” she pleads, clasping her hands and leaning on your desk. “I promise, it’s not going to be bad. Just one date. A double date. That handsome boy from Kujirami we saw from the spring party asked me out to see a movie in Kobe, and it’ll be so lame if I have to go by myself. I’m sure he has a cute friend!”

“I guess?” Your voice, tinged with doubt, twangs when you wince and you search for an excuse, glancing around the room as casually as you can. The teacher's behind his desk, re-organizing his papers, and you agonize over the minutes he takes. Couldn’t he cut class conversation short, for once? “But I don’t want to transit to Kobe from Awaji on the weekend. It’s so much time, and I have to work. Maybe if it were afterschool?”

“Would Friday work?”

You try not to curse to Mina’s face. “Maybe… but it’s the end of the school week. I’d, y’know, wanna go home. And Thursday is like... we have homework. And stuff.” At your friend’s crestfallen expression, you quickly add, “I wouldn’t want to third-wheel your date anyway. If I’m there, and his friend’s there, we might end up talking to each other rather than our dates.” 

A pout flashes across her face. “If they can't keep us interested, then they’re not good enough for us. Didn't you say on your first date with Inoue-san, he didn't say a single word? And we know how that turned out."

“Well, don’t take a page out of my book. Every time I give a guy a chance, they’re just not…" You don't exactly want to linger on all your failures at the moment. "Well, just give him a chance, and don't look for the bad stuff. You know, sometimes first dates, the nerves get in the way.”

“Is that what you tell yourself, too? 'Cause if you have no luck, I can't imagine what I've got going for me. Ugh, I'm so sick of boys!" Mina shoots to her feet with a new, ferocious light in her stare as she flexes her arm, patting the bicep with a sharp smile. “What we need, sweetheart, is a man.”

“A man,” you snort, laughing. “As if those exist.”

“You never know.” The chair squeaks as Mina finds her seat again. Twisting around, she sends you a wink. “Think about it, won’t you?”

“I will,” you agree. Reaching down into your bag, you feel a shadow fall across your figure, and you crane your head up at the boy standing before you. Suna Rintarou is staring down at you as if you’re the one in his way, but you can't possibly be so, and he's most definitely in the wrong section of the classroom.

“Hey.” 

You only straighten up, withdrawing your English notebook and dusting off your desk quickly. “Hi.” Picking out your favourite pencil, you adjust the layout of your desk, and take a quick sip of water before realizing Suna’s still standing there, tapping on his phone, and you look at him again. “Can I help you?”

He withdraws something from his pocket—a cleanly folded piece of paper—but doesn’t even meet your gaze. A flicker of irritation licks at your stomach. “Osamu wanted to give this to you.”

“What is it?”

“From our volleyball meeting.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“He volunteered you to fill our manager spot since Shiri-san won’t be coming back this year. It’s the form.” 

Taking it, you open your mouth to ask another question but he’s already walking to the back of the class, and you frown, eyes trailing after the boy who sits down and pulls out his phone, already slouched over and half-hidden by the person sitting in front of him. Ridiculous.

With a huff, you face forward again. The paper crinkles as you see your name already written at the top in Osamu’s slanted writing, but the teacher is calling for the class’s attention (of course, now is when he decides that his paper stacks are straight enough), and the idea is pushed to the back of your head with a firm, resounding answer.

No way.

[myimaginationplain]

Everyone has a right to their own headcanons of course, but any Arcane x Harry Potter AU where Jayce & Viktor aren't both in Ravenclaw is immediately bunk to me. If you think Jayce is a Gryffindor, then you're being misled by his muscles & bullheadedness & generally Superman-esque aura. Jayce nominally cares about chivalry, sure, & he is certainly brave, so it's not like Gryffindor is ill-fitting per say; but Jayce, without a doubt, prioritizes his curiosity & learning/discovering for the sake of it over those. I think "scholar whose theories are so beyond the pale that he's branded insane only for him to have been completely correct," is definitely a Ravenclaw-leaning archetype. Basically I think Jayce would do for Ravenclaw what Cedric Diggory did for Hufflepuff (make the stereotypical nerdy loser house look cool).

Viktor is so stereotypically Ravenclaw that I don't even need to say anything about him, really. I maybe see the Sorting Hat considering him for Slytherin for just a moment, because he is ambitious & cunning. But Viktor funnels nearly all of his ambition & cunning into learning, his ultimate end goal, so he gets Ravenclaw in T-2 seconds.

Mel is a Slytherin. Like, "the Hat pronounces her Slytherin before it's even fully touched her head," Slytherin. But she's definitely more of the "laying in wait & keeping her opinions close to the chest" type than she is the "loud & proud bully," type. She makes herself, known, of course; she'd be a prefect, & everyone in the school can put her face to her name. But ask anyone what he actual opinions on anything are (especially where Wizarding politics are concerned), they're gonna come up short.

Caitlyn & Vi are both so Gryffindor that it's painful. Very Hermione & Ron, actually, although with their blood statuses reversed. Cassandra Kiramman was a Slytherin, so obviously there's a lot of tension over it. Especially once she brings home a muggleborn girl (Vi).

Jinx & Ekko could both very easily slot into Ravenclaw...but I actually prefer them in Slytherin & Hufflepuff, respectively. Jinx is like Viktor in reverse in this regard—she's extremely intelligent & creative, but to the end goal of protecting herself & her own. She's sly & deceitful & slippery; she's that once-in-every-few generations miraculously muggleborn Slytherin who somehow exemplifies the traits of the house better than any of her peers do.

Ekko is just so community-oriented & warm at his core; if pressed I think he'd definitely say that he prioritizes kindness & togetherness over anything else, & sees his own intelligence as more of a tool than an end goal in & of itself. The Firelights hideout also reminds me of the Hufflepuff common room in a way; I just know Ekko would love herbology. Like Jayce, he'd also be a real Cedric Diggory type.

Now for the secondary & tertiary character gauntlet: Kino, Elora & Lest can all be Slytherins because they all lowkey revolve around Mel & I can't imagine them anywhere else (although tbf, we know next to nothing about Kino's actual personality, so he could go anywhere you want him to honestly). Likewise, Sky can be in Ravenclaw because besides her shyness, the only two character traits we get from her are that she 1) has a crush on Viktor & 2) is a fellow nerd, so to Ravenclaw she goes (plus it suits her name). Claggor & Mylo both go to Hufflepuff because at the end of the day, it is kind of the cast-off house, & I don't necessarily see them fitting in anywhere else (Claggor is also an herbology-lover). Maddie is a Pettigrew-style Gryffindor. Vander & Benzo are old guard Gryffindors. Silco is lowkey a squib to me, but if he weren't he'd be in Slytherin, 100%.

EDIT: Actually I was thinking about it, & considering Silco's whole spiel about loyalty & how fastidiously he sticks by Jinx, it might be more fun for him to be a particularly duplicitous Hufflepuff, lol.

[benny-the-spaceman]

happy 18th birthday to ME! and kind of benny. kind of. technically charlie day. whatevs. ive got more to say below the cut, but this goes out to the ppl ive gotten to know and the ppl ive learned from and admired in this community, thanks for making tlm so special to me <3

Alright. wow. 18. It feels weird to say that honestly. more importantly, this marks around 2 years of me being in the lego movie fandom, which is even crazier! I actually found this community at one of the worst parts of my life, I'd developed very severe drug related OCD, to the point where I was barely eating and drinking or leaving my room for over a month because i was so terrified of my intrusive thoughts. I went to a treatment center where I started ERP therapy, and during that time I watched a reel about the lego movie and decided that, since i was out of school and had way too much free time, maybe i could occupy some time with that instead. TLDR: best decision of my fucking LIFE. i got hooked pretty quickly, and after a few weeks i started interacting and making friends. I started using my tumblr again and i was drawing every free moment i could. joining this community started as a sort of coping mechanism for me, but as my ocd went into partial remission it became more and more of a passion and less of just something to occupy my brain. overall, awesome. however, it really wasnt until a year or so later that id REALLY start to get to know people, and leading into my senior year, I became friends with some amazing people. Superpeeboy and Mars of course, but also many other people, almost too many to name (yall know who u are tho (:, and if u think it could be u, it probably is). This community has made me so, incredibly happy, in ways even before my ocd i didnt think were possible. I never thought id find myself so enthusiastically looking toward my future, because despite every horrible thing going on in the world I have people around me that I know will be there, and I hope I can be there for them jsut the same. Honestly I just want to thank every person who's made this community special for me. Whether we've become best friends or have never talked even once, thank you for making the lego movie such an amazing place to call home. When I say this has saved me, I mean it. Happy birthday to me, I don't even know what birthday wish I could make, I've already gotten so many things that I'd always wished for.

[snails-and-tangerines]

Those are great points! Details like this, and whether the author takes the time to purposefully make a world make sense, can really make or break a reader's experience with the worldbuilding in a book.

If it's alright to add on to your post, OP, I think that a similar concept could also be applied to education? What gets taught at schools has changed a lot over time and it's different in different places. And, a lot of that depends on what professions people go into. A school that expects its students to grow up and go work on the nearby farms will teach very different things and have different standards than a school that aims for its students to become scientists. This has a ton of implications on characters and what they know.

But also, who even has access to schooling? Is it everyone? If it's everyone, are all children legally required to attend? Until when?

Are there different levels of quality and access to quality?

Who can teach? What requirements are there for the profession, if any? How many children is one teacher responsible for? Do they teach one age group (i.e. just 12 year olds), or is one person teaching all 34 kids in the village at once, from 5 year olds to teenagers?

How valued is education in society? Do you need to have gone to school to get a good job? Which kinds of jobs require it?

What is school culture like? Is it competitive? What are the school rules, and does someone make sure they're followed? How? Are there extracurriculars? Clubs? How are sports and the arts treated? Is there a mix of different types of kids (social status, race, culture, gender) or is it more homogenous? Is the school in a city, suburb, or more rural area? What items are banned, and do students bring them anyways? What items aren't banned that the average modern person would assume is (i.e. pocketknives and guns in a rural historical type of school)?

How much money does the school have to do its job? How well does it allot those funds? Are teachers buying their own supplies? In schools with bands and/or orchestras, are there school instruments or do students have to buy their own?

What do the parents expect out of the school? Is the school doing those things? How well? How does this affect the students?

[Obviously not all of these questions are relevant to every story, or even most, but there are a lot of people out there like me where most-to-all these things are actually necessary to think about for the types of stories they're trying to tell, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to share]

I'm working on and off on a fantasy series, and one of the things I really need to do is completely overhaul my assumptions of (and maybe even completely rewrite) its professional world as well as the education systems.

One thing I don't see show up as a consideration in worldbuilding a lot is what things are professionalized.

By that I mean how (and whether) certain activities or focuses are conducted in an organized, professional manner or treated as a career path or industry (often with set standards or training involved) rather than those that are treated primarily as hobbies or conducted in an ad hoc manner.

Standing armies, for example, are professionalized in a way that temporary armies or militias aren't. Being in the military is a profession that is organized and has specific standards and training and that clearly distinguishes between people who are or are not in the military. If we look at a lot of past wars, though, as well as many militias, being in the military was not a career for most people (especially most enlisted) and the time and effort between deciding to join and being on a battlefield was significantly smaller.

A professionalized military will generally be a stronger, more cohesive, more effective military--but it is also far more expensive to maintain, because as it is a profession the military servicemembers pull their salary from the military on a regular basis, and it takes away hands from other tasks such as manufacturing and farming.

Over the last few hundred years a lot of countries have seen (to varying degrees) professionalization of fields like firefighting, policing, pharmacology, emergency response, and search and rescue. In these cases, it reflects 1) a recognized need for a standing trained force that can respond quickly; 2) a recognized need for standards and credentialing; 3) the ability societally to have individuals who might otherwise be contributing to manufacturing or food production not do that indefinitely; 4) a dedicated ongoing effort to maintain standards, trainings, etc.; and 5) organizations (generally governments) that can pay for these services.

We also see the professionalization of other things, like youth sports--the push to treat youth sports as either primarily a system to develop professional athletes or a career on its own.

When you're doing worldbuilding, consider what roles would be treated in this professionalized manner, rather than those that would be viewed as temporary positions or conducted on an ad hoc basis.

Is there a standing professional military? How does the professionalization differ between officers and enlisted?

Is emergency preparedness, response, or recovery a professionalized field? Is the focus of that profession on planning? On search and rescue, triage, or other immediate response activities or coordination? On rebuilding following disasters? On managing grants, tax relief, or other monetary aspects of rebuilding?

Is pharmacology a regulated industry that requires training or credentialing? Is medicine?

Is firefighting generally conducted by individuals in the neighborhood? By private industry? By unpaid volunteers managed by a governmental or non-governmental organization? By full-time paid staff?

Are these positions generally a full-time job or an ad hoc/as needed job that can be called on? If it is an ad hoc position, what are the credentialing requirements to be put on the roster?

[worth-this-and-more]

[TW: sh mentions, violence] [spoilers for legendborn and bloodmarked, read at your own caution ;)]

so i've been rereading and trying to cover up all the legendborn content that happened while i pufff disappeared, and pardon me it is taking more time than i imagined, however i just wanted to start off with one pet peeve of mine

*rant incoming*

this might just be my unorganised thoughts or maybe just common sense, but sometimes you dont fully understand why a character did something; you have to sometimes to come back and read it again once you have that epiphany. it doesn't matter whatever tf they are doing, it sometimes just doesnt make that effect, especially on first read.

when i first read bree lashing out on greer and sar when they touched her hair, i didnt quite understand it. i thought its a cultural thing and moved on. now something about me, im a little fair, by indian standards. not completely clear skin and shit but im on the lighter side. so if im in my village, if im anywhere else wearing something with a bit of skin showing, i automatically get the comments "you're so fair" "what's your skincare" "so lucky" "you'd marry so soon" all that typa shit. and then come the unwanted touches, touching me on any exposed skin. and by any i genuinely mean any exposed skin. that's when i kind of realised why bree was so irritated when they tocuhed her hair, because people sometimes see our nicer features as free estate. and its annoying. and that is when her reaction fully made sense.

when i first read selwyn mesmered bree, i was so angry. i did not want bree to forgive him without him grovelling, ofc, but i also could not understand why he did that. what was his motive?? and why hide it from bree only?? nobody else?? now i've been in my low times since like years, not a big deal. got a lot of scars, some too visible, some not. i dont bother hiding it if im out in public where there's nobody who knows me or nobody who would care enough to ask. but if im with my friends, close people, i hide them all. and its just like valec said, its not to hide something its because of the fear of judgement. and that's when it kind of made sense why selwyn would hide his descent specifically from bree. she has bad experiences with mesmer, no doubt, but even worse with demons. it was a bad call through and through but one that is not unfamiliar. i dont hide my scars for my safety, i hide them because im ashamed.

and when nick killed max and then promptly disappeared into the woods, that was also somehow so out of character in my eyes from him. during grief and in the moments of crushing hopelessness, doesn't everyone want someone?? isnt the obvious reaction supposed to be him coming to bree, and not running away from her?? but that's not what happens yk. i once had a classmate who was not generally the type of person you'd want to be around. he was the type of person who has "trouble" spelt on him in flashing neon red. but after all, we were young, wanted to keep the peace, so i kept the decent communication. he would constantly invade my personal space, unwanted touches, unsolicited comments, it gets annoying. the last straw was when he tried to touch my best friend's schoolbag. i, in a moment of pure rage, threw him against the wall and actually started choking him. when the class managed to get me off of him, he was unconscious. in that moment my bestfriend came to put a hand on my shoulder, i visibly flinched and ran away from there and stayed in the washroom until school was over. this isnt as bad as beheading someone, but the response is familiar. of course he is going to go away rather than come closer; people whose love language is physical touch often have their hate language as isolation. i didnt hurt him purely because he tried to take my bestie's bag, i hurt him because i wanted to. nick didnt kill max purely because he killed his father, he killed him because he wanted to.

there's more of the events where we just kind of make this internal bias that we know what the character is going through and that we would definitely make better decisions, but can you?? do you really think you can or you're just overestimating yourself or underestimating the actual thing going on with the character??

i have made this mistake too, i know. i have taken some time to reflect back though and now i can say that yes i have made harsh judgements too. i am changing that tho because i've got a lottt of time to sit down and think and yeah i guess we all need it time to time.

what im trying to say is, things are not black and white. its a spectrum, there's dark grey light grey. it's a lot. and until and unless you are capable of putting yourself in that type of situation or closer, it's better to not make concrete opinions. shit happens and people do things, real life people are just that, people.

anyways this was a long rant i probably lost my point halfway through but okay whateva

[yelenasdiary]

Olivia Benson x fem reader valentines request

Olivia has to work on valentines Day. Reader is watching Noah for her while she's gone. The two of them decide to make Olivia some valentines for her to come home to.

A Cozy Valentines Haven

Pairing: Olivia Benson x Fem! Reader

Summary: Liv is called into work on Valentines Day, so you and Noah decide to make something special for her to come home too. 

Fluff & Light Angst

Warnings: Normal SVU Talk | 1.4K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I have found write Olivia really comforting! I hope you enjoy! x

Cupid’s Dream Masterlist 2025

The morning started off soft and sweet, you woke up to Olivia wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to her in bed, placing a kiss on the back of your clothed shoulder. “Happy Valentines” she whispered, making you smile softly. “Happy Valentines baby” you replied, soaking up this rare, peaceful moment. “How long do you think we have until Noah wakes up?” You asked, turning in her hold to face her. Olivia lightly chuckled, “I think I heard him turn the tv on 5 minutes ago”.

Before you could fit in another word, Olivia’s phone buzzed, tearing the two of you away from this rare moment. Olivia placed a soft kiss on your forehead before she rolled over and reached for her phone. “Benson” she said sternly, slowly sitting up. You rolled over and quietly slipped out of bed, grabbing your dressing gown before leaving her to take the call in private. 

The sound of cartoons softly filled the apartment as Noah sat comfortably on the sofa watching them. “Morning kiddo!” You said as you entered the kitchen. Noah turned, looking at you over his shoulder, “Morning Ma!” He smiled sweetly, his messy curls showing proof that he had a decent nights sleep. “What do you want for breakfast this morning?” You asked, flicking the kettle on.

“Um….toast, please!” He replied before turning his attention back to the cartoons. 

You made Noah’s toast and placed it on the counter, calling him over as you grabbed Liv’s travel mug from the dishwasher. “Thanks Ma!” Noah smiled, pushing himself up onto the stool. “Morning Mom!” He added, beaming another smile at his mother. 

“Good morning” Olivia replied, giving his curls a light tussle before she turned to you. 

“Got a case?” You asked, pouring her hot coffee into her mug. She nodded lightly, “I’m sorry darling, I’ll try and get home as soon as I can” she said, wrapping her arms around you. 

“But mom, it’s valentines day” Noah pouted, “you said you would help me with my valentines card” he added. 

“I know sweetie, I’m sorry but maybe Ma can help” Liv suggested, looking over her shoulder at Noah. She placed a kiss on your cheek before pulling away, “I promise to make it up to both of you. How about, after work, we order the biggest pizza we can get and watch whatever movies you guys want” she added. Noah perked up at the mention of pizza, “can we get peperoni on it?” He asked, his eyes wide with hope. 

Olivia chuckled before running her hand through his dark curls once more, “of course we can sweet boy. Whatever you want”. She placed a kiss on the top of his head then pulled you in for one last tight hug before pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “I gotta go, I love you” she spoke softly. 

“I love you too, Liv. Be safe, okay?” You replied, looking into her eyes. 

“Always” she said, grabbing her keys in one hand and her travel mug in the other before heading out the door. 

Once she was gone, the apartment fell silent, even with Noah’s cartoons playing in the background, you saw your son’s slight disappointment as he finished his breakfast. “So, who’s this card for?” You asked, wanting to try and cheer him up. 

“A girl in my class but she won’t be at school until Tuesday, and I don’t want her to miss out on a card” he explained. His kind heart made you smile softly, “that’s very kind of you honey, maybe after I’ve had a shower and some breakfast we can work on it. How does that sound?” 

“Mm, I was thinking maybe we could do something special for mom? You know, since I guess I won’t be going over to Aunt Amanda’s now” he suggested, reminding you of the original plans you and Olivia had in mind. “Sounds like a perfect idea, what did you have in mind?” You asked, sipping your coffee. 

“Mom loves double choc chip cookies, could we bake some?” He asked.

“Sounds like a great idea!” You smiled at the young boy. 

Soon enough, the morning was quickly filled with baking, chatter and lots of laughter as you and Noah baked your wife some of her favorite cookies. You watched as Noah took the lead, reading the recipe from his phone, he’s grown up so fast it was hard not to take in this bittersweet moment. 

When the cookies were finally out of the oven, you turned to Noah who now was busy playing on this Switch. “Hey bud!” You called out, catching his attention. 

“Yeah?”

“Did you want to decorate these cookies?” You asked while you were looking in the cupboard for the baking decorations. Noah paused his game, “do we have red icing?” He asked, wandering back into the kitchen. “We do! I can whip some up, what else do you need?” You smiled softly. 

“Uhm, sprinkles?” He replied, racking his brain. 

“You’re in luck!” You said, pulling out the rainbow-colored sprinkles, “they’re rainbow but with some red icing, I think they’ll be perfect” you added. 

As the day went on and the cookies were complete with their red icing, sprinkles and some very wonky writing on top, you and Noah spent the rest of the day thinking about what movies to watch when Liv would get home. A scroll through the pack while enjoying a cheeky muffin kept the two of you from feeling cooped up in the apartment and before you knew it, it was reaching dinner time. 

Noah, armed with cushions and blankets he had nicked from his bedroom and your bedroom turned the living room into a cozy haven while you helped at his command. “Pizza time!” Noah declared, practically bouncing off the balls of his feet. 

You chuckled, grabbing your phone from the countertop. “You said pepperoni, yeah?” You asked, just to be sure. Noah nodded, “and the biggest!” He reminded you. 

As the sunset that casted a warm glow over the apartment turned to dark skies, you and Noah sat on the sofa patiently waiting for your wife to come through the front door. The pizza, almost too big to fit on the coffee table was placed in the oven on a very low heat to keep it from getting cold. 

“Look out Ma!!” Noah chuckled while the two of you played a game of Mario Kart, his character speeding past you. “Oh! I’m gonna catch up!” You replied, using your red shell to hit Noah’s kart. 

“Hey!! unfair!!” He laughed

Before the match was over, the front door slowly opened. “Mom!” Noah beamed, almost forgetting about the game in front of him. “Hello, my sweet boy” Olivia smiled, her heart swelling with warmth as her eyes locked onto the two of you. “Oh my, what have you two been up too?” She asked, noticing the cozy haven the living room had become. 

“Ma and I got everything ready for tonight!” Noah beamed, finishing the race in first place. “We made cookies and got pizza!!” He added, his eyes sparkling with excitement. 

“This looks very cozy!” Liv smiled once more. You pushed yourself off the sofa and wandered over to her, greeting her with a tight hug. Her arms naturally wrapping around you, “you’re incredible, you know that?” She whispered. 

“Don’t be silly, you deserve this” you smiled softly before kissing her softly. 

“I’m going to go wash up!” Noah said, not wanting to see his mothers kiss. You and Olivia chuckled as he ran down the hall into the bathroom. “I’m going to have a quick shower, and I’ll come join you both” Liv said, gently pulling away. You nodded softly at her words, it wasn’t the time to ask but you could see that the case she had today was a tough one. 

“Hey” you said softly, gently grabbing her arm. She looked at you, her eyes softening, “it’ll be okay” you assured her. All she could do was nod before wandering down the hall to the bedroom. 

----

The night was one to remember. The three of you sandwiched on the sofa covered with blankets, the large pizza almost half eaten, Noah leaving his crust behind. The small plate of cookies were the winner with only two left on the plate. Noah was fast asleep after 2 movies, leaving you and Liv to enjoy the rest of Valentines Day together.

She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close as you nuzzled into her neck, a small sigh of contentment left her lips. It was the Valentines Day you both had originally planned but it was one that you both enjoyed the most.

Taglist: @noturlondonboy | @deathbylesbianwitches | @red1culous | @torihobby1226 | @filmedbyharkness | 

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[astronomerzin]

Hii! I saw you asking for venti request and i couldn’t pass up the opportunity i rarely see someone writing for him anywaysss i thought of a cute little request how about venti freaking out about how to tell his long time s/o that he’s barbatos? Like he feels guilty for not telling the s/o like he’s deceiving them but he also don’t want them to see him as a god so he’s being an anxious mess for weeks and when he finally gets the courage to tell his s/o they just nonchalantly say they already know 😭😭 i’ll leave the ending to you and the s/o can be gender neutral so that everyone can read it :)

Venti x GN! Reader. | Venti revealing his secret! ⋆⑅˚₊⸜ 🍃‧₊˚✩彡 ,,

note: I'm sorry that it took me long to reply! School recitations went brrrrr— ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ anyway, I hope I didn't keep you waiting! I hope you'll enjoy this fic ^^ thanks for asking me this request btw! :3 this one is a bit crappy and short... I'm sorry for this sob. I didn't really have any ideas😧 and I'm not so proud of this bye

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Venti had always wanted to tell his beloved windblume the truth about himself. He was the Anemo Archon, the God of Wind and Freedom, and he had been watching over Mondstadt and its citizens for centuries.

He had been afraid of what your reaction will be. Would they treat him differently once they knew the truth? Would they be scared, or repulsed, or maybe even angry at him for keeping this secret for so long?

He had been planning on telling them for weeks, but something always seemed to come up. Either he would chicken out at the last moment, or just have a second thought about it. But today, he was ready to face his beloved about the truth.

He found you sitting on the sofa, reading a book quietly. He took a deep breath and slowly sat down next to you.

"hey, windblume.." he said in a soft tone. He slowly rested his head onto your shoulder while his hand slipped down to your waist, pulling you close to him.

"can we talk?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

You turned your head to him and smiled before closing the book slowly. "Of course.. what is it?"

Venti took a deep breath, he was getting nervous. You noticed this and squeezed his hand gently, giving him reassurance. "..you can tell me everything, I promise I won't judge nor get mad unless it's something bad." you said in a soft tone.

Venti hesitated for a moment, his courage faltering for a brief instant. But the trust and love he saw in your eyes gave him the strength to continue. He slowly sighed once again "..Windblume, I hope you won't get mad at me for not telling you this sooner.." he mutters. "I'm the Anemo Archon.."

You stayed quiet for a brief moment before smiling softly. "I kinda actually knew.." you replied sheepishly.

Venti looked at you with slight wide eyes, shocked and confused. "I don't understand— how?" he asked.

"Remember when The Traveler came to save Mondstandt? I may or may not have accidentally eavesdropped when you and the others when you all went inside the Angel's Share to discuss the plan." you explained. "..sorry" you sighed.

Venti just gently shook his head and let out a soft sigh "no, no. It's okay, you didn't do anything wrong.. I should be the one who's sorry."

"I kept this truth about me from you— I actually feel so guilty hiding it from you for a long time now.." he briefly pauses before continuing "I just thought that, if you knew I was the god.. you'll only see me in that title." he mutters.

"Venti— it's okay.. I understand." You slowly and gently placed your hand on his cheek, caressing him like a fragile doll as he looks up at you with soft, loving, and worried gaze.

"Even if you are a god doesn't mean I only see you in that form of your title. All I see is Venti that I love so much.." you said in a soft tone and kissed his forehead. "I'll love you for who you are, God or not.." you smiled faintly.

Venti's lips quivered slightly and sighed. "Windblume.." he gives you a tight embrace.

"I love you so much.. Thank you."

[seventeenlovesthree]

Digimon Adventure Reboot Sequel AU - Chapter 0: Weird

Summary: Despite his best efforts, Mimi, Sora and Koushirou have, indeed, noticed that Taichi has been acting rather off recently. Unwilling to accept his weirdness as the status quo, they meet up to discuss how to handle it...

Based on: [Prologue] [Concept] [Designs] [First Idea]

Word Count: 885

„No matter how you look at it – Taichi-san has been acting weird lately!”

Mimi’s voiced oozed with frustration, as she flopped back down on her personal chair in their “hideout” with emphasis. As Palmon blinked at her, she gracefully flipped her hair over her shoulder, grabbed the cup of lavender tea in front of her and took a small sip, letting her statement sit for a moment.

A moment Koushirou and Sora used to exchange a worried look. Mimi may have been the one to order them all to gather due to “an emergency!” – which, as it turned out, was “Taichi-san being weird” –, but if they were being honest… They had noticed it too.

“I think I’m aware of what you’re referring to”, Koushirou agreed after a while. “My personal verdict is that he hasn’t gotten a lot of sleep, since he’s been spacing out frequently. But whenever I try to address it towards him, he says everything is fine.”

“As he usually does, but I think it’s all deflection”, Sora added, leaning against the computer table while Koushirou went back to trying to fix the blue screen Mimi had caused by accidentally ripping out a cable during her heated rambles from earlier. “He’s just… Smiling it away and, I mean, that’s always been him, but…”

“It’s like he’s hiding something”, Koushirou concluded without looking up from the screen.

“I know, right?!” Mimi put down her tea cup with a clinking sound, causing Piyomon and Tentomon to make inquisitive noises as well.

“And really, it’s not just that, it also feels like he’s forgetting things or getting them mixed up”, elaborating, Sora fumbled at the hem of her college jacket. “Last time I asked him if he wanted to have an extra training session, he just looked at me like a deer in headlights and asked if I wasn’t already meeting with Yamato… Who’s in Shimane. I have no idea where that came from all of the sudden. It’s hard enough to get the group together these days and I didn’t understand why he was so confused about me not traveling to Shimane in the middle of a school week.”

It really had been a chore to “keep the whole gang together” these days. While Yamato and Takeru had always been living in Shimane and, outside of Summer and Winter breaks, only joined them on their digital adventures in the net through a port in their area – usually it were only Taichi, Koushirou, Sora and Mimi that ended up gathering physically at their meeting points, namely the club house Mimi’s grandfather had sponsored a few years ago. With Hikari going to a different middle school and Jyou thoroughly focusing on his management career, their group of eight really was somewhat decimated.

“Super weird…”, Mimi pouted and Koushirou actually lifted his gaze this time.

“Speaking of which, he was asking me if I had talked to Jyou-san about college entrance exams for medical school…”

“He did what?!”, Mimi screeched. “Where’s that coming from?! Jyou-senpai has been so determined to take an internship at our company, grandpa would be devastated if he had suddenly changed his mind – and I would know, Jyou-senpai hasn’t shut up about it, I can show you our texting history, it’s-“

“That’s what I mean by him getting things mixed up”, Sora tried to intervene, smiling at Mimi serenely, so she immediately calmed down a little. “Even though these things really come out of nowhere…”

“Well, maybe high school is getting to his head?”

“His grades seemed to be fine overall though, even if… He’s never been the most studious”, Koushirou thought out loud. “Perhaps we could ask Hikari-san about it?”

“It didn’t seem like they had problems at home either.” Once Sora had said these words, the room got quiet. An aura of worry and confusion that was only disrupted by Mimi sipping on her tea again – more nervously than before as well. They had all known Taichi for several years by now, he had always been their beacon of confidence, a leader to look up to in every situation, positive and unshakable, especially during their gate hopping shenanigans. Seeing him so scatterbrained really was a novelty for all of them.

“There’s another possibility…”, Koushirou eventually broke through the silence with a low voice, drawing all attention towards himself.

“And what would that be?”, Tentomon asked curiously, flying over his head.

“Well… There is at least a tiny chance it’s caused by a Digimon he encountered the last time we went into the network.”

“So what, you believe there is a virus in the net messing with his head? Like… Giving him a cold that made him forget things or something like that?”

Hearing how peculiar it sounded by Mimi’s skeptical tone, Koushirou wasn’t so confident in his theory anymore.

“We will have to test it first of course. By talking to him once more and scouting the network for irregularities.”

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” With that, Sora pushed herself onto her feet again. “You’ll keep investigating on the digital side of things, Koushirou-kun, and we’ll, once again, try to get something out of him in person.”

“Spoken like a true lioness, Sora-san!”, Mimi cheered happily and raised her fist encouragingly. “Let’s solve this mystery once and for all!”

[adumbratrapedme]

Tsutomu Goshiki x reader | teen pregnancy series | pt.1 the news

Synopsis. a teen pregnancy storie between goshiki and reader.

wc. | genre. angst to fluff |cw/tags. angst, teen pregnancy mentions, fluff, etc. teen pregnancy series masterlists here!

general headcanons

╭⋅The moment he realizes what’s happening, he goes into full dramatic mode. His first thoughts aren’t even about responsibility or the future—it’s more like, “OH MY GOD, A BABY? ME? A DAD? WHAT IF THEY THINK I’M LAME?!” ╭⋅He starts overthinking immediately—“Do babies like volleyball? What if I spike too hard and scare them? Will they think my jump serve is cool? WHAT IF I DROP THEM?!” ╭⋅Despite panicking, he never once considers running away or avoiding the situation. He may be dramatic, but he’s loyal as hell. ╭⋅After the initial freak-out, he does a complete 180 and starts acting like he’s got it all under control—even if he clearly doesn’t... He suddenly starts reading parenting books, watching baby videos, and Googling the most ridiculous things. ⋅“Can babies eat rice balls?” ⋅“How do you hold a baby without breaking it?” ⋅“Can babies play volleyball? Asking for a friend.” ╭⋅He Over-Prepares. ⋅Buys a tiny volleyball way too early. He just knows the baby will be a prodigy. ⋅Starts saving money—he has no idea what for, but he feels like he should. ⋅Tries to eat healthier, even though he’s not the one who’s pregnant, lol. “If I’m gonna be a dad, I need to be STRONG.”

You and Goshiki had been together for about six months now. Your relationship had started as a friendship—late-night calls, study sessions, him always trying (and failing) to act cool around you. When he finally confessed, it was dramatic, loud, and completely endearing. Since then, things had been sweet—full of nervous hand-holding, awkward but sincere kisses, and him constantly trying to impress you.

But now… this was something neither of you had ever imagined.

You had been feeling off for a while—exhausted, nauseous, emotional over the tiniest things. At first, you brushed it off as stress from school and staying late to watch Goshiki’s practices. But then, the realization hit. The test confirmed it. And now, you had to tell him.

You had planned to do it after practice, maybe in your usual spot near the gym. But before you could, he found out on his own.

It happened completely by accident. You had asked him to grab something from your bag while you tied your shoe, not thinking twice about it. But when he reached inside, a small folded-up piece of paper slipped out—a doctor’s appointment confirmation. You didn’t notice at first, but when you looked up, Goshiki was standing completely still, staring at it like it was written in another language.

"Prenatal consultation."

His hands shook slightly as he read the words over and over again, his usually loud and confident energy completely gone.

“…What’s this?” His voice came out quieter than usual, almost hesitant.

Your stomach dropped. There was no backing out now.

You swallowed hard. “Goshiki… I was going to tell you. I just—”

“Wait—WAIT.” He held up a hand, as if physically trying to stop time. “This is—this is saying—does this mean—??”

You bit your lip, heart pounding. “Yeah. I’m—” You took a shaky breath. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Goshiki’s face went pale, his eyes impossibly wide. Then, in an instant—

“WE’RE HAVING A BABY?!”

His voice echoed through the empty hallway, pure panic and disbelief clashing in his expression. His breathing picked up, hands still shaking slightly, his entire body stiff like he had just been hit by a truck.

“I—I’m gonna be a dad?!” He looked at you, then at the paper, then at you again, like his brain was malfunctioning. “Like—a real dad? With a real baby?! That’s—a baby? Inside you??”

You winced. “Goshiki—keep your voice down—”

He ignored that completely. “OH MY GOD. I—I CAN’T EVEN DO A JUMP SERVE PERFECTLY YET—HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO—” He gasped. “WHAT IF THE BABY THINKS I’M LAME?!”

You blinked. That’s his concern right now?

Seeing him spiral, you grabbed his hands, squeezing them tight. “Hey—breathe. Please.”

He sucked in a shaky breath, his body still tense. His mind was racing at a thousand miles per hour. He was sixteen. He was a first-year. He was supposed to be focusing on volleyball and proving himself—not this.

But then, he looked at you—really looked at you. And suddenly, his panic took a backseat to something else.

“…Are you okay?” His voice was softer this time, full of genuine concern. “I mean—how do you feel?”

You let out a slow breath. “Scared,” you admitted. “But also… I don’t know. It still doesn’t feel real.”

Goshiki swallowed hard. He still looked like he might pass out, but he straightened his shoulders, trying to pull himself together. He wasn’t the type to back down from anything—not in volleyball, not in proving himself, and certainly not in this.

He nodded, mostly to himself. “O-Okay. Okay. Then… we’re in this together.” His grip on your hands tightened. “I mean—I don’t know anything about being a dad, but—I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

You stared at him, surprised. “Just like that?”

His lips pressed into a thin line, determination taking over his panic. “Just like that.” Then, after a beat—“…Unless you don’t want me to?”

You laughed, despite everything. “Of course I do, dummy.”

Relief washed over his face, though he still looked overwhelmed. He exhaled, rubbing his face. “Holy crap. I’m gonna be a dad.” A pause. Then, almost panicked again—“Wait—DOES THIS MEAN I HAVE TO TELL USHIJIMA?!”

“…One thing at a time, Goshiki.”

General Taglist:

@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101 @starykari @staygoldsquatchling02 @alpha-mommy69 @curlyhairkk @b1xi @reuka1 @feyrfly @elmaa127

if you want to be part of the taglist you can always DM me or coment! also if u only want to be tagged on specific characters.

-if i forgor someone pls tell me and dont be shy, i get really lost with the taglist thingy ahhh

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ CH. 4 TEASER

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you. 『 series masterlist 』

✧ TEASER WARNINGS: none!

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: this chapter is kicking my ass, y'all. that's all.

✧ TEASER WORDCOUNT: 944 words

✧ STATUS: ongoing

When you make it back to the house, you can’t break off from the group fast enough. You don’t mean to be rude, but fuck. You need a minute to process the events of the day.

In an ideal world, said processing would be done with the assistance of your best friend. That’s what Yoongi and Yijeong do, right?

Once you make it inside the house, you make a beeline for the swing out back, phone already tucked between your ear and your shoulder as you slide the patio door open. It rings once, twice, before the call is declined altogether.

SuckJin: You’re joking right?

Right.

Too bad your best friend is a traitorous snake who prioritizes his medical career over being at your constant beck and call.

You: i need to talk to you!!!!!!!!!!!

SuckJin: Are you dying

You: no?????

SuckJin: Great

SuckJin: Nothing I can’t help with over text then

You: in case i don’t tell you enough, you are the fucking worst

You: just so you know

With a groan, you plop onto the swing, thumbs tapping wildly at your phone screen as you try your best to put words to what exactly you’re feeling right now. A task that proves impossible, since you’re not really sure yourself.

You: your worst mistake as my best friend is sitting idly by and allowing me to remain celibate since kihyun and i broke up. what’s happening right now is all your fault actually

You: because now that my JK-related feelings are waning i’m convinced i would fuck absolutely anyone in my current state. that HAS to be what’s going on because there is NO other explanation for my behavior these past few days

You: I CHECKED OUT MIN YOONGI’S ASS!!!!!!!!

SuckJin: LOL

SuckJin: How was it

Why does the universe hate you so? What could you have possibly done in your past life to deserve a best friend so devoid of empathy? You should’ve listened to your gut back in middle school, when it told you to steer clear of the weird, egotistical theatre kid with the bowl cut.

You: NOT the point you freak

SuckJin: What is in the air in Jeju lol

SuckJin: Maybe u two just need to bang it out

What the fuck!

You feel the heat flood your cheeks in an instant, indignantly typing what is sure to be a complete disembowelment of your best friend, but the sound of the sliding glass door opening stops you in your tracks.

It’s Yoongi. Of course it is.

Cigarettes in hand, he crosses the garden until he reaches the swing. Instead of joining you, though, he leans against one of the supports, holding the opened pack out to you in offering.

“No, thanks,” you cheep, stuffing your phone in the pocket of your sweatshirt as you will the flush in your cheeks to die. Seokjin deserves to be left on read for his crimes.

Yoongi shrugs, patting his pockets in search of a lighter. When he finds it, you watch the warm glow illuminate his face as he brings it to the end of his cigarette and inhales deeply.

You feel so far out of your depth here. It’s Yoongi’s house, Yoongi’s garden—even if you’ve staked your claim on this swing since the night you arrived, everything you’ve helped yourself to here belongs to him. Jeongguk included.

Yoongi is well within his rights to have a cigarette wherever he pleases. You just didn’t think he’d prefer to have one here, with you.

“You looked like you had fun today,” Yoongi says, the low hum of his voice effectively breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I did…” You shift positions on the swing restlessly, unfolding your legs and wincing as you stretch them out in front of you. “You looked like you had fun, too,” you offer.

“Mm.”

Talkative as ever, this guy. You guess it’s up to you to keep the conversation going.

“You looked goofy in that hat, though,” you add, your lips quirking up at the corners faster than you can stop it.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at that. “Yeah? Maybe I should give it to you, then, dollface. You’re the model, after all.”

Dollface.

He keeps calling you that, doesn’t he? He called you that the first night you met. He must mean it as an insult, an implication that your looks are all you have going for you. That’s how it felt the first few times, at least.

Still, you can’t help but notice that this is the longest conversation you and Yoongi have had since your fight last week. You’re both being so shockingly peaceable, you can’t help but comment on it.

“So… I had fun, you had fun,” you mumble, lazily kicking your feet to push the swing back and forth. “Crazy concept that you and I can have fun in the presence of each other.”

“Crazy.”

“You can admit the truce was a good idea. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone you were wrong.”

Yoongi’s eyes meet yours. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just takes a slow drag of his cigarette as he considers you. You shrink, pinned as his eyes scan over your face for so long it feels unbearable.

And then he’s moving, cigarette tumbling to the ground as his shoe stubs out the orange glow. Hands swiping ash off of denim. Your eyes track each movement against your will, until you shake yourself out of it and stare at your shoes instead.

“We’ll see.”

There’s the squeak of the sliding door, and then your only company is the smell of smoke and your phone buzzing in your pocket.

✧ TAGLIST:

@kkaetnipjeon @ktownshizzle @joonary @jajabro @pitchblack0309 

@ot72025 @futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @wobblewobble822 

@this-most-assuredly-counts @ohnothisnameisalreadytaken @sugafun @whoa-jo @amarawayne 

@kimsaerom @bangtangsworld @jimingirl95 @jadestonedaeho7 @notsevenwithyou

@perfctlyunstable @yoonmetogether @kpophosblog @chimmchimmm @nnybtitts08

@itsmina29 @sophia--915 @jeanjacketjesus @kiki-zb @velvetskize

@sugar-snap @namjoonsbuspass @1800lxcifrrr @angellekookie @binniesbabe

@jalexad @daskewl @rebloginfics @ennvfv @curse-of-art

@tarahardcore @valhallawhispers @chimmisbae @broken-glowsticks @bontensbabygirl

@silencionyx @dropdeadbec @lilifiedeans @darklyceremonials

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Back Forty View (On Our Piece Of Ground)

10 - I Will Always Return

Pairings: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley-Owens, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: Just a whole lotta angst and sad, but a smidgen of happy at the end. More babies???

A/N: I was soooo stuck on this one so it's a little short but I think it rounds out this part of the plot nicely so that we can get both pairs back by themselves for a bit. Don't worry though this won't be the last chapter of this story, just the last one for a little bit while Tyler and Gee and Jake and Sam focus on each other again. As always I am ecstatic that y'all continue to read, comment, reblog, and so on. Knowing you enjoy this story as much as I do fuels me to write more! Gifs by @kaizsche Pics from Pinterest and a little collage by me in the middle. And there's a wee surpprise at the end, a little banner/collage thingy since so many of you seemed to enjoy that. Please enjoy!

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @barnesboo1967 @dizzybee03 @coloraturadiva @kmc1989 @khouse712

“Jacob Seresin. What do you have to say for yourself?” Officer Mullins said, glancing at the school superintendent. 

“I’m real sorry. I won’t do it again.” Jake murmured, his gaze flicking from his father to the cop, then down. He’d folded his hands behind his back and his heart was pounding.

“No you won’t. Because if you do, you’ll go to jail. Now I hope that maybe you find God, or perhaps some sort of structure to keep you in line. Maybe the Military, like your stepfather.” The superintendent said, making it a point to emphasize the word ‘stepfather’ which made Jake ball his fists behind his back. Kenny noticed that and clapped a hand on the young man’s shoulder, rubbing firmly to ease the tension. 

“Yessir.” Jake agreed softly, not daring to look anyone in the eyes.

“You're dismissed.” The superintendent waved a hand and sat at his desk. Jake had nearly gotten expelled. He wasn’t going to take anyone talking shit about his brother, especially not some dumb football jock who’s dad is rich and gets everything handed to him. Jake wouldn’t fucking have it. He was just sorry that Tyler didn’t see him knock the kid senseless. He’d be proud of him for five seconds and then once Tyler heard what his punishment was, he’d be pissed. Jake started praying in the truck on the way home, because it was going to be rough on an out of school suspension just before graduation.

“Jake. I swear to god, boy, you better figure somethin’ out.” Kenny’s voice was rough, and stern as he drove out of the school parking lot. 

“I’m sorry, Kenny...dad...I’m sorry...” Jake said, twiddling with his thumbs and watching as they passed some of the Emory Family’s wheatfields. 

“I know you are Jake but damn it, why’d you have to do it? You couldn’t just let it go. You need to get that temper under control.” Kenny said, sighing heavily.

“I’m sorry...” Jake said, again, his tone apologetic and coming out almost flustered. He didn’t know how to not defend his family. He didn’t know how to not stand up for them.

“Y’know, maybe the Navy would be good for you. Give you somethin’ to expel all that pent up bullshit on.” Kenny looked pointedly at Jake, taking a left instead of a right toward their house. They headed to the Navy Recruitment office to see what Jake could do from there. 

Later that day, the green pickup rumbled along, the engine louder than ever. Jake knew it needed an oil change when it did that, and he would get around to it eventually, but he was trying to make sure he got top marks in class and stayed in tip top shape. Once he graduated, he was off to the Navy. And Tyler, well, Tyler was off to start his rodeo career. 

Jake popped a CD in and a twangy country song began to play as he glanced over at his brother, who was mouthing the words with a huge smile on his face and his arm slung out the window. Tyler shot him a look, full of pride but also concern. Tyler was ecstatic that Jake was joining the Navy, but he was also worried. What if he got deployed and got killed? But he knew it was what Jake needed to rein him in. Tyler had to push those thoughts out of his mind for now and enjoy being with his brother instead.

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

Jake sat on the couch at his parent’s house, feeling the depression creep in and slowly consume him. Samantha and Jeanie had gone to the store and he was glad of that, knowing that his mother approved of his fiance. Kenny was out mowing the lawn, having had Tyler fix the tractor for him. 

Ballast, Jake’s dog through and through, sat with his head on Jake’s lap, his ever deepening amber eyes continually checking in on his owner. He would whine every once in a while and then poke Jake if he stopped petting him. Jake sighed heavily and then began to speak to the young dog.

“I don’t wanna go back to California bud. I wanna fly again...but I wanna stay here. I didn’t know how much I missed it here until I came back. I don’t know if I can say goodbye so soon.” He murmured, his fingers scratching behind Ballast’s ears. The dog shifted, his brows furrowing. Jake couldn't get over how expressive the dog was sometimes. “And...I’m freakin’ out about Sam...like, how can she not be pregnant already? It’s me, right? I’ve gotta be shootin’ blanks because there’s no way such a perfect, gorgeous, beautiful fucking woman could have anything wrong with her... fuck . I know I’m the problem...I’m always the problem.”

Ballast raised his head, staring straight into Jake’s eyes, amber burning through green steadily like a forest fire. Jake smiled weakly, his hand running down the dog’s back. Ballast stretched up and licked Jake’s cheek, then went to nibble on his ear. Jake laughed and rubbed the dog’s head, then pulled him into a hug. Ballast put a paw over Jake’s shoulder. In that moment, Jake felt like he was eighteen again, a fucking delinquent helpless to do anything else but hug the damn family dog because she’d been the only one not disappointed in him. 

As Jake wallowed in his sadness, Ballast sat quietly, across his lap, offering the same support that the dog’s dad had that first time he’d met Ryker. In so many ways, Ballast had become so much like Maddox, and Jake was thankful for that. There were things that dog had opened up in him, scars that he’d scratched at that Jake couldn’t put away. Jake’s anger, which always manifested because he was being protective, was the biggest one, and the harshest. 

“You get mad at him, he’s gonna come at you, Jake. He’s gonna take you down a peg. Control your anger.”

Jake’s gaze settled on Ballast. He took a deep, shuddering breath, which the dog noticed and again, he curled closer to his human. Ballast didn’t give a fuck about the other two dogs. Not one single fuck. He only cared for Jake. He’d been particularly sticky with Sam lately though and Jake didn’t know if that was an indication of anything. Jake was snapped from his introspection then by the front door opening. Rocco and Muster barked once each, and then went back to laying down together in a warm ball.

“Hey.” Sam said, as she helped Jeanie bring in the groceries that she’d gotten. Jake snapped his fingers at Ballast, who moved off his lap and heeled to Jake as he helped grab more bags. Jeanie wanted to get a lot while she had the help, knowing that Tyler and Georgia wouldn’t be along to visit for a little while with Jaycen. They’d have to go up toward Stillwater to see their grandson, which wasn’t a problem, but they knew Tyler and Georgia were also busy with work too. 

“Hi.” Jake kissed her on the cheek as he took some of the bags, placing them on the counter. Sam began putting food away as Jake went out to get more bags. Jeanie sighed as she met him at the bottom of the stairs.

“Momma. You go sit. I’ll grab the bags.” He said softly, taking them gently from her. She smiled as she patted his arm and used him to help her up the stairs. 

“You’re always a good boy, Jake. Thank you. I’ll rest my feet and then start on dinner. You should eat before you head out.” She said and Jake nodded. He grabbed the rest of the groceries, and helped Sam put them away. All three of the dogs had risen and Jake decided to take them for a short walk to the end of the driveway and back. Sam elected to go with him.

“You seem off today. What’s wrong?” She asked, wrapping her arm around his waist. He placed his around her shoulders and they matched steps as they walked. 

“Don’t wanna leave...” He murmured and Sam nodded.

“I know you don’t but we have to go home at some point.” She said, pulling him closer. He let out a deep sigh again, feeling his anxiety bubble. Why was he anxious?

“This is my home.” His brows furrowed and Sam drew back slightly. He knew he shouldn’t have said it.

“What about my home, Jake?” She asked, stopping. He came to a halt too and she stepped away from him. He shook his head, reaching for her.

“I know...I’m sorry. I’m just...I don’t know...” He couldn’t express his thoughts to words that would be what she wanted to hear at that moment. Sam wanted to go home. The only thing tethering Jake to Miramar was her. Of course there was his promotion and all that, but he could be a Lieutenant Commander anywhere in the world. He didn’t have to stay specifically in Miramar to do that. He could be stationed in Oklahoma City at Tinker Air Force Base, or he could be even closer in Enid, at Vance Air Force Base, which employed an active flying academy. If he wanted to teach, he could be closer to home instead of being stationed in Miramar. But he also understood that it was where Sam felt the most comfortable. And Jake would be uncomfortable so that she could be okay. He’d promised her that much.

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

This was the fucking worst. 

Jake said goodbye to Jeanie and Kenny and he held it together. He was okay with that because he’d left a hundred times before, but this, this was fucking heartbreaking. 

He hugged his brother tightly, too tight. So tight that Tyler had to pry him away. When his brother looked into his eyes, the matching sage green meeting, his brow furrowed and he sighed.

“It’ll be okay, Jakey. You’ll be back soon enough.” Tyler’s voice was low, at a whisper, because he knew Jake didn’t want to leave. He knew Jake wanted to stay here, but he couldn’t. Sam was tugging his heartstrings so fucking hard to go back to California, that it was overriding everything in Jake that made him want to stay. Tyler's voice was quiet because he knew Jake didn’t want Sam to hear what he had to say next. “If somethin’...anythin’...doesn’t work out, you will always have a place here, with me and Gee.”

Jake pulled away then, Tyler’s words stinging. He knew what Tyler meant though. He knew if things got rough and he had to retreat somewhere for a while again, that he could come here. Tyler was well aware that Jake never wanted to leave Samantha, but he also knew that if Jake needed to get away, this home would be open to him for that.

“And you call me more than ya have been the past couple years. Text me as much as you want. I don’t mind.” Tyler’s words were comforting then. 

“I know. Thank you.” Jake said, taking a hold of his brother’s shoulders then, his grip like heavy stone. He backed away from Tyler, only about a foot or so, allowing Georgia to step in smoothly with baby Jaycen. Jake’s eyes grew misty as he gently let his fingers brush over the little boy’s head. He had nearly a full head of hair now, short and sandy brown like his father’s. The boy reached for him, and Jake offered a single finger, which Jaycen wrapped a chubby hand around and giggled as he did so. Georgia watched her husband’s brother’s expression dissolve into one of anguish. Jake could only weakly smile at Georgia, whom he then kissed on the cheek softly before he reached for Sam. 

“Thank you for everything. We’ll be back soon.” Sam said softly to Tyler as she drew back from his warm embrace. She’d already said her goodbyes to Georgia and Jaycen, but as she took Jake’s hand, she carefully hugged the other woman once more. 

Ballast and Grits were just like the brothers, getting in one last play session before they parted ways. It was like the dogs knew. Muster had become fast friends with Waffles, and Pancake had taken a liking to Rocco, but the four quieter dogs all sat in a line near the truck, waiting for a signal. Tyler snapped his fingers for the cattle dogs and Jake opened the back seat for his. He lifted Rocco in and then shut the door. Grits glanced up and whined softly to Tyler, who reached down and patted the red dog’s head.

Georgia saw longing in Samantha’s eyes as she took one last look at little Jaycen as her and Jake piled into the already packed truck with the dogs, their Christmas gifts, packed bags, and some food for along the way in a giant cooler. Georgia would miss that truck, but most of all she would miss her husband’s brother and the wonderful women he’d found. She would miss the dogs and how well they fit in with theirs. 

“Drive safe! Let us know when you get home!” Tyler exclaimed, and as Jake backed out of the space in the driveway and turned around, he waved. Sam did too, and Tyler and Georgia waved back and then they both glanced down at their son and the dogs, who had gathered at their feet. 

The Owens household would be a little too quiet for a little while after that.

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

Jake and Sam drove in silence, the dogs all comfortably napping in the back seat. Their journey home would be around twenty hours of driving and making some pit stops along the way to the Texas Air and Space Museum, the New Mexico Route 66 Museum, the Japanese Garden of Friendship in Phoenix, Arizona, and a short detour to Joshua Tree National Park before finally reaching Miramar.

Jake elected to do the first part of the drive, as he felt like he just needed to. He'd put on a spotify playlist that Tyler had made and shared with him, plenty of country music to keep his thoughts on the road and just a little distracted. Sam was scrolling on her phone and at some point, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, she stopped and placed it on the center console, her gaze settling on the landscape and fading light out the window. 

“Hey.” Jake's voice startled her slightly, but he reached across the console and she intertwined her fingers with his. It was an action he'd done a million times before but this time it had a certain weight to it. There was an uneasy tension between them, and they could both feel it. It was suffocating.

“It's my turn now because I know you're not okay.” Sam said softly, as she squeezed his hand firmly. Jake's eyes left the road for a second and then focused back.

“What's that mean?” He asked, tone flat. She shifted beside him. 

“I know you don't want to go home...to California. I'm forcing you to. I know that.” She admitted and he glanced at her again, but didn't reply, so she continued. “I'm sorry. I just can't leave for good yet.”

Jake's brows knitted and he felt like he should pull over, but he wanted to get to their hotel. His voice came out slightly shaky and it made Sam tear up.

“I told you when I first came home...that I would shatter myself to pieces for you. That I would take all of your pain and get rid of it. I can still do that...but you then need to be patient with me because I need space after everything is put on me. It's why I don't hang out with my detachment sometimes. It's why I like being at home with you and just sitting doin’ fuck all.”

“I’m not asking you to take it all...” She murmured.

“Aren’t you? I told you. I am comfortable in Oklahoma. In Arkansas.” Jake’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. Sam noticed this and she placed her other hand on his forearm, rubbing up and down, trying to quell the frustration she could feel building within him.

“We have to go home though. Your job is there. My mother is there. She just lost her husband. I just lost my...” Sam’s words came out choked and she wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. Jake’s jaw worked as he felt tears sting his eyes knowing that he was upsetting her. 

“I’m sorry...I don’t wanna fight, Samantha. We’re both tired, we’re both upset, and I don’t think we should keep talking about this while I’m driving. When we get to the hotel...can we pick this up again? Please?” Jake asked, sage green flicking nervously over to her. She nodded and went to take her hand from his but he wouldn’t let her and instead lifted it and touched his lips to the back, leaving them there for a few moments before resting their entwined hands on the console. “Don’t pull away, please. Don’t lea...leave me...” He stuttered.

“I’m not going to leave you, Jake.  I love you...I’m just...having a hard time with this too...you probably don’t realize it but i was happy there too...but I feel obligated to go home. My home is not your home, I know that. But I wish I was your home .”

“Fuck...Sam...Samantha...you...you are my home. But sometimes I just don’t feel like I belong there, and I hate that...”

“Why...why would you ever feel that way? Am I not enough for you?”

“You are. You will always be. But I feel like I’ve been failing you. I feel like I came back damaged and it’s just been a fucking downhill slope that I keep sliding down and I can’t get back up...and then we came here and I don’t know, I suddenly didn’t feel like that. I felt like I brought you down here and that you were finally safe. We were finally safe.”

“Do you not want to fly again? Is that what this is about?”

“No I do...but I don’t know that I want to be deployed again. I am fucking terrified that I won’t come home...I’ve lost enough pilots, enough friends...when do I not come home, huh? And then what...I leave you and a kid without a husband and father? I can’t even bear the thought of that. It makes my chest hurt like hell, holy shit.”

“How do you become an Admiral then? Do you even still want that?”

“Yes. I do. And I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.” Jake’s voice trembled with his last words and then Sam’s free hand made it’s way to his chest, as she leaned slightly over the center of the truck.

“Jake. I love you more than anything. But you need to talk to me. You need to meet me halfway. You cannot keep these feelings you’re having from me. You can’t keep going to therapy and not talking there either. You need to let me all the way in. No matter how ugly the bottom of your soul is...you need to let me meet that part of you .” Sam’s voice trailed off and then she rubbed over the front of his chest, feeling his heart pounding like it was trying to jump right out of it. They let the silence fall over them, Jake trying to figure out exactly how to accomplish that without scaring her away. He couldn’t ever be without her again.

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Tyler sat quietly on the couch, Grits on the back as usual, and Jaycen sleeping soundly in his arms. He glanced down at Georgia, her head against his shoulder, her breath coming out leisurely. Pancake was laid across her lap, her arm over the dog’s back, and Waffles was on the arm next to Tyler, her snout as close as she could get to the little boy without disturbing him. 

“I already miss them.” Tyler murmured, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly, shakily.

“Me too. But we have this wonderful little boy to help keep us busy. Until the next time that they come back.” She said softly, rubbing Pancake’s shoulders. The dog sighed and furrowed her brows at Georgia, which made her smile. 

“Yeah. You’re right. And some other stuff to keep us busy too. Found a truck for Kate. We just gotta go look at it, make sure it’s okay.” He said, tilting his head as Jaycen shifted in his arms but did not wake.

“That’s good. She can stop trying to crash yours and Boone’s.” She said, which made a chuckle rumble up from Tyler’s chest.

“Yeah exactly. And we’ll plan a day to go look at a truck for you. I promise. I’m glad you got rid of the Denali though. I was afraid of you towing with it.” 

“When am I gonna be towing?” She asked, shifting against him so that she was slightly closer and Pancake did the same.

“Don’t know. Figured you might wanna take Tulsa to a couple places while you’re not pregnant.”

“Well...you mean before my belly gets big again.” She smirked.

“What?” Tyler shot a sly smile at her.

“I took a test this morning. I’m pregnant again, Ty.” Her lips turned up into a wide grin and Tyler carefully turned so that he could kiss her.

“Oh fuck. I’m gonna cry, darlin’.” His voice became a whisper.

“Well you had a hand in it, silly.”

“I know but you’re the one who’s doing all the work. I’m just the...well...y’know.”

“The very handsome stud?” Georgia raised a brow and smirked. Tyler's lips turned up again, his mouth dropping open.

“Well, darlin’, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. You’re quite the specimen.” She mused, making him chuckle and shake his head. His chest filled with warmth as he gazed at his beautiful wife and then down at his adorable son. He opened his mouth to speak but then stopped, wanting to enjoy the happiness that was overflowing in the air, within their little family of two legged and four legged creatures.