#Y'all really be sleeping on this and it's a crime

[ily-ilysfm]

Daily reminder that Jon and Damian have their own fortress built by Batman and Superman. Jon called it the Fortress of Attitude and Damian let him.

[nanamiskentos]

(JUST MEET ME AT THE) APT! — gojo satoru minors dni. art by chitrartum on twt.

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (a) and let the show begin !

prologue. → your ex, that sleazy and no-good scumbag won't stop posting tacky mirror selfies on instagram, arm around his fellow cheater-in-crime. so, christmas eve finds you morose in a dodgy dive bar. why not tumble back into bed with that random, gorgeous stranger you just met?

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. never drive, no matter how little alcohol is in you folks!!! never!!! making out, creampiè, hooking up with a stranger, ovèrstimulation, mildly rough sèx, gojo won't tell you what his job is

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. apt — rosé & bruno mars

a/n. reader lowkey a hater, i love vanilla vodka eggnog </3 i said i was gonna post on 02/12 and i kept my word, literally rushed to finished this before my clinical exams in the cardiac ward 😭😭😭😭😭😭 hope y'all stay healthy. your future surgeons are writing gojo smut on tumblr.com

mp3. don't you want me like i want you, baby? don't you need me like i need you now? sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy. all you gotta do is meet me at the apartment (아파트) !

you think your friends would kill you if they knew this was how you were spending christmas eve. not at some glittering holiday party, nor tucked away in a snow-dusted cabin. but here, holed up in a dimly lit bar with an atmosphere so questionable it should come with a warning label alongside a health and safety audit.

the place had charm, if your definition of charm included scuffed floors, a jukebox stuck on 'last christmas' and a string of blinking lights that looked like they'd been thrown at the walls rather than hung. still, you'd swiped a couple of minty candy canes from a jar near the door, which felt like a win.

your phone sat resolutely off in your bag. self-preservation. no instagram, and no tacky mirror selfies from your scumbag ex with the same smirk he'd worn a month ago when you caught him cheating. with someone who had always been 'just a friend, babe!' you weren't keen to let that ruin the rest of the night, though if you were being honest, you had already let it ruin a good chunk of the month.

"another christmas vodka...sour, please," you squint at the messy chalkboard above the bar, where the christmas specials were scrawled in what would barely pass for handwriting.

the bartender gave a single, surly nod. he looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but here, preferably somewhere free of customers nursing post-breakup bitterness like a fine wine.

and so, you found yourself staring at the tall glass now sitting in front of you, studying the rosemary sprig that swayed lazily in the translucent red liquid. a few cranberries bobbed among the ice cubes like they were on some tiny festive raft.

"woah, that one's way too strong for me."

the voice interrupts your private session of wallowing. you turn your head, slowly, to take in the culprit. he-who-hath-disturbed-the-peace. a man sitting close enough to be annoying, but not close enough to invade your personal space.

it takes you a moment to process the stranger, mostly because of the brain freeze from your ill-timed gulp.

"i mean, it's not bad," you shrug, hoping to sound neutral enough that he leaves you be. but then because you just can't leave well enough alone, you gesture at the specials board, "better than...that, at least."

you jab a finger at the chalk-scrawled abomination: vanilla & peppermint vodka eggnog.

the man frowns, a sharp but somehow charming movement that's overshadowed by the dim lights, "hey, i ordered that one."

you blink like a startled bovine, before breaking into a laugh, "my bad. i'm sure it's really fuckin' delicious."

the stranger chuckles too, a soft and low sound that seems more genuine that it has any right to be, "i hope so. otherwise, this is gonna be a long night."

the man finally shifts, casting aside the dim shadows that lay over him, into the blinking string lights. broad shoulders framed by a dark, tailored jacket that hugs him like a second skin. his hair, startlingly white, was pushed back by — wait, was that a blindfold?

you stare longer than you should have, trying to piece the odd sight together. a cosplay? a k-pop idol wannabe, hoping to get recruited for the next bts tour? perhaps, he was blind, hard of sight? you start to open your mouth, wondering how to phrase the intrusive and awkward questions, but he beats you to it.

"i can see you just fine, y'know," he says, his tone laced with amusement.

your cheeks burn at the realisation that he's caught you gawking shamelessly. so you quickly turn back to your drink, suddenly very interested in the cranberries floating in the glass.

the bartender returns, sliding the stranger's drink onto the counter with an audible clink. it was the most obnoxious cocktail that you'd ever seen. a martini glass filled with frothy, pale liquid and crowned with a cinnamon stick that jutted out like the mast of some ridiculous holiday ship.

you watch, mildly horrified, as the man picks up the glass and downs half of it in one confident gulp. he sets it down a satisfied sigh, and a smack of his glossy lips, and you wrinkle your nose involuntarily at the sight.

"i swear it's good," he says with a laugh, catching your expression. his grin is wide, playful. and you find yourself smiling back despite your sour, gloomy mood.

he has a nice smile, you note. not forced nor smug, but genuine. framed by pale pink lips that curl up in an easy, natural way. it was strange though, to look at someone without seeing their eyes.

"i'm gojo, by the way," he offers, his voice smooth and lightly amused once more, as if he'd caught you studying him again.

your gaze drops to his hands, long and slender, tracing the rim of the martini glass. something about the way they move — elegant and deliberate, hold your attention a moment too long for propriety. you quickly snap your focus back to his face, "what brings you here, gojo?"

gojo shrugs, and you can almost imagine him rolling his eyes beneath the blindfold, though you doubt his ire is directed at you, "work, i guess. or maybe i just got bored of going to work."

"they're working you hard, yeah?" you ask, trying for sympathy. employers loved squeezing their workers dry during the holidays. your own boss was proof enough of that, running the office like a sweatshop for santa's unpaid elf labour.

"something like that," gojo says with a scoff, the corners of his mouth quirking up again, "what about you? what brings you here? it's christmas eve, isn't it?"

you sigh, the weight of gauche embarrassment suddenly pressing down as the words spill out before you can stop them, "my ex-boyfriend cheated on me."

gojo's lip curls, the kind of expression that balances perfectly between pity and disgust, "that sucks," he offers. profound and wise, you have to agree as he continues, "you jus' find out or something?"

the question makes you cheeks heat, and you fiddle with the edge of your drink, "no, i've known all month." you gesture vaguely towards your purse, where your phone sat like an unsealed pandora's box, "but he posted...on instagram. and stuff. i'm still, y'know, getting over it."

gojo makes a thoughtful clicking noise with his tongue, "ah, see, i don't do social media. but that sounds rough."

you let out a weak huff, "yeah, well...now i just feel like a loser. my friends told me to go out and have fun, and here i am..." you trail off, downing the rest of your cranberry vodka in a single, decisive gulp. the sting hits your throat, sharp and sour, and you grimace at the burn.

gojo frowns slightly, leaning in just enough that you can hear how his voice softens, "i don't think you're a loser." the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, pulling your gaze back to him, "it's fair to wallow."

his words hang in the air, and you find yourself smiling, albeit thinly, "that's...really nice of you to say."

gojo hums thoughtfully, "i meant it, i promise. but i can't exactly say i've been there, never really dated anyone."

you blink, openly gaping at the man, "really? you're joking."

it was hard to wrap your head around that. even with the odd blindfold, everything about him screamed 'pounce-worthy'. the broad frame, the charming smile, the striking white hair that looked like it belonged in a kérastase commercial.

gojo laughs at your incredulous expression, "same old work and stuff," he explains with a casual shrug. then his grin fades, tone shifting just enough for you wonder why that feels as though the clouds have covered the light of the moon outside, "always got in the way."

"at least you never had to deal with a breakup," you offer, trying to find some weak, silver lining.

gojo frowns, his pale complexion now tinged with a faint red flush that even the dim bar lights couldn't disguise. was he really that much of a lightweight, or was the eggnog's amaretto content deceptively boozy?

he sighs dramatically, "a friend once left me outside a kfc in shinjuku. then he became a murderer and a cult leader. that felt like a breakup."

"huh," you murmur, staring at the man with a mixture of amusement and faint alarm, wondering if you'd seen any cult leaders on the evening news lately. no, nothing save for the occasional incorrect weather report, a friendly good-looking priest running some scam association, and news reports about an octopus that could predict the lottery, "that's - well, okay..."

you couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not, but gojo seems to shake himself free of the odd reverie. he's running his hand through his shock of white hair, and his grin has returned, slower and a touch softer, "still, your ex must've been crazy. letting go of a pretty girl like you?"

the words land with surprising weight, considering they come from a stranger in a sleazy bar, but it leaves you momentarily stunned. you can feel a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart doing an embarrassing little flip before you manage to get a grip on yourself.

"wow," you laugh, feigning composure as you sip the last remnants of your drink, "smooth."

gojo's smile is wider now, "hah, i call it like i see it," and his lips now curl upwards as he leans in, "and i'm serious. if i had someone like you..."

you laugh again, but this time it's far more unsteady. you wonder if the cranberry vodka is playing with your head, "big words for someone who's never dated. should i be impressed, gojo?"

gojo's chuckle is a deep sound that vibrates in his chest, "i know a good thing when i see it. you don' need to date to know what you want. and i think i want you."

your stomach does a little flip, and you feel all rationality being pounded out of you just from staring at his unfairly gorgeous hands rest on sturdy thighs, "you do flattery well, i'll give you that."

"oh, i don't know about that," gojo says, fiddling with the stem of his glass, "but what'dya say we get out of here? how about my place?"

you blink slowly, and you're aware that your heart (and...nether regions) have already composed an answer before your mind has, "what if you're a serial killer? you're not about to silent night, deadly night me, are you? you haven't killed someone have you?"

for a moment, the man stills but then gojo leans back, "smart girl. asking the right questions. but no, i can at least promise that i'm not a criminal."

you hesitate just for a beat, the words lingering on your tongue, before you let out a breath and shrug, "fine. where's your place?"

"azabu," gojo replies without missing a beat, his tone smooth, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

you gape once more, blinking as you try to process the information. azabu? as in tokyo's ritziest neighbourhood, where a one-bedroom apartment could cost you more than most people's yearly salary? the kind of place where the floors are made of marble, and everyone's shoes are more expensive than your entire wardrobe?

gojo, ridiculously handsome despite looking like a circus runaway, too charming for his own good, and not the type you'd expect to find in a cheap downtown dive bar. definitely not on a christmas eve, at least.

for a split second, you wonder how a man like him even ended up in a place like this. maybe it's some kind of self-imposed penance. or he likes to keep things low-key when he's pretending not to be rich? maybe he's looking to cosplay a succession character?

whatever it is, it's working. not only does gojo have a face carved from marble, now you've got a solid ticket into seeing what a neighbourhood for the top one percent really looks like beyond it's wealthy exterior. maybe, you'll bring back a souvenir.

you wonder whether there's a group of small emotions standing around inside your head, inside-out style. glaring at you as if you're incapable of making good and rational decisions.

well fuck that, you gather yourself and shrug off the small wave of nerves, and loop your purse strap around your finger, "alright," you say, "let's get out of here then."

you don't miss at how the adam apple of gojo's throat bobs for a second, before he downs the rest of his drink in one go, "let's get outta here then."

you follow him out into the cold, your breath fogging in front of you as you try to focus, but the man is tall, like ridiculously so. but when you reach the curb, he turns to face you again, a frown marring his face.

"so, i have a small confession."

i changed my mind and i find you repulsive.

i was paid by your ex to do this, and now i've done enough to get my money.

i'm a serial killer.

you don't know which possibility is worse, "huh, a confession? what is it now?"

gojo chuckles, lifting a hand to the back of his neck, as though he's about to spill a dark secret into the night air, "i don't have a car."

"you've got to me kidding me. how'd you even get down here?"

gojo shrugs, a casual and almost lazy movement. and you feel your gaze lingering on his shoulders. broad, impossibly wide, the dark jacket hugging him in all the right places, like it was tailor-made to showcase just how much he filled it out.

"someone dropped me off. ages ago," like it was the most normal and rational explanation in the world.

your own laugh is short, a little disbelieving, but you pull your silver keys from your purse, "well, i guess i'll have to drive then. but what would you have done if i hadn't been here to save the day?"

gojo steps to the side, opening your own car door for you with a small flourish and exaggerated bow that makes your heart jolt again, "probably teleport back home. maybe fly, since the skies look clear."

what a weird guy. hot, but weird. he seems like the type to dress up with a fake beard and show up as gandalf at the next lord of the rings fan convention.

in the driver's seat beside him, you catch yourself staring too long. your gaze slipping over a model's jawline, the white of his hair being held up by the blindfold. even his vaguely expensive scent is disorienting, pleasant like pine and blackcurrant. but it's also hard not to be amused when he's furrowing teeth into plush pink lips out of concentration, pressing an address into your cracked gps screen.

well, merry christmas to you.

gojo's place is well...how do you say this? gorgeous doesn't quite begin to cover it. he leads you into the building with the ease of someone who knows every inch of it, tossing a casual smile over his shoulder as he swipes a key card to unlock the private elevator, "i tend to move around a bit. or stay in different places. keeps life exciting, don't you think?"

you step into the elevator alongside him, the polished mirrors reflecting the soft glow of gold accents and sleek, modern lines. his hand hovers over the control panel before he presses the button for the top floor. of course, it's the penthouse.

"you move around a lot?" you ask, arching an eyebrow, "what, like a restless billionaire or something?"

gojo smiles, leaning casually against the steel as the elevator begins its smooth ascent, "now you're exaggerating."

the elevator finally dings, and gojo steps aside, offering an exaggerated bow as he gestures for you to exit, "after you, my fair maiden."

you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of it, but there's something so endearing and charming about how he pulls it off, especially when paired with the unfair symmetry of his face.

floor to ceiling windows dominate the far wall, revealing a jaw dropping panorama of tokyo's skyline. the city stretches out in a glittering sea of lights, with the tokyo tower glowing a golden exclamation point against the velvet night sky. the interior is just as impressive, with polished wood floors that gleam in the warm light and a glass dining table that sits beneath a sculptural chandelier. that same faint scent of blackberry and pine lingers in the air, heady almost.

behind you, gojo strolls with an easy and languid grace, tossing his jacket onto an artisan leather armchair. beneath it, his sky blue dress shirt clings just right and rolled up to reveal forearms faintly dusted with pale hair. you think you've momentarily forgotten how words work, and you avert your gaze quickly. though not before catching the faint smile on his lips.

"not bad, huh?" gojo says, heading to the open kitchen as though he's unaware of the effect he's having on a rational and sensible mind such as yourself, "it's no dive bar, but i'll do."

you shake your head, bewildered. trying to process how someone you met in a dingy bar could live somewhere that looks like it belongs in architectural digest. even down to the odd, ancient looking pieces that scatter the wide living room. weird looking artifacts of some sort. maybe he's also a collector? go figure.

"not bad?" you repeat, incredulous, "gojo, this place is incredible."

the man laughs, opening a sleek fridge to grab a bottle of water, "i have good taste," he says with mock modesty, his tone teasing as long fingers twist off the cap, "and a thing for gorgeous views. though, between you and me, i'm not great with heights. ironic, i suppose. paying a fortune for a view i'd rather not get too close to."

he waves a hand vaguely towards the windows, the blindfold still firmly in place.

"so, what's the deal? did you win the lottery, or inherit a fortune. or are you some kinda secret agent who moonlights as a barfly?"

gojo lifts the bottle in mock toast, "let's just say i'm very good at what i do."

you arch a brow, crossing your arms and ignoring the warm flush creeping up your neck, "and what exactly is that?"

"oh, you know. standard stuff. international intrigue, thwarting evil creatures. i even saved a kitten from a tree the other day."

"right, because nothing screams the next member of the avengers like eggnog in a seedy bar."

gojo leans casually against the counter, "even the avengers need a holiday drink now and then. don't knock it." but then he gestures towards the sleek couch, "wait, you can make yourself comfortable, y'know. i'd hate for my guest to think i'm a terrible host."

"terrible host? no, but a mystery man —"

before you can finish, your foot catches on something hard, and you stumble forward with an undignified yelp. gojo reacts instantly, how does he move that fast, and his arm is shooting out to steady you. but glorious gravity and magnificent momentum has other plans.

both of you crash onto the couch, and you find yourself sprawled unceremoniously across his lap. gojo's laugh rumbles low in his chest, and you can feel the warmth of it underneath your palms as you steady yourself, "well, that's one way to get comfortable," he murmurs, voice teasing as his large hand lingers lightly on the curve of your waist.

you prop yourself up slightly, cheeks burning, and glance back at the offending object. your brows knit together when you spot what looks suspiciously like a katana gleaming under the soft light.

"did i just trip on a — hey, what the hell is that?"

gojo interrupts, smoothly extending a long leg to nudge that suspicious object under the nearby coffee table before you can finish, "nothing important," he says breezily, the motion so quick you almost think you imagined it.

his focus shifts back to you, almost guilty, but his fingers are pressing divots into the fabric of your top, "now, where were we? hi."

you blink, caught off guard by how strange it is to feel the searing heat of someone's gaze underneath a blindfold, impossibly intent, "hi yourself," you manage.

for a moment, neither you nor the gorgeous man under you move, and the world feels strangely airless.

but your fingers twitch against the fine linen of his shirt. and before you can second-guess yourself, you reach your hand up to the edge of the silk fabric over his face and you ask, "can i take this off?"

gojo tilts his head, like it's a genuine consideration and you catch the faintest flicker of hesitation. it's fleeting, replaced by a crooked smile as he nods, "go ahead, sweetheart."

your hand rests lightly on the silk, hesitant for only a second before tracing its way to the back of his head. your fingers brush through impossibly soft strands of white hair, and his breath hitches when you find the knot tied neatly to the base of his skull.

you wonder what manner of man gojo is, letting himself be stitched undone by a stranger. but with care, you undo the knot, working deftly and clutching the fabric as you pull the blindfold away.

the blindfold slips free, and for a moment, you're certain you've forgotten how to breathe. bright, piercing blue eyes. framed by thick white lashes blink up at you. the intensity of such an unearthly gaze is softened by something more vulnerable, almost shy. nervous even.

"wow," you murmur without thinking, the word spilling out as gojo's expression shifts, an unguarded openness replacing the playful smirk that you've seen all evening.

your earlier assessment echoes in your mind: k-pop reject wannabe. the recent memory now feels like quite the injustice, a careless slight against a face that defies easy description. each detail of his face is striking, as if some divine hand had taken special care to sculpt him from the fabric of time and space itself.

gojo seems to sense your analysis, and you're sure that he's parted his lips to speak, but whatever he was about to say falters. that faint flush, pale-red like vermillion watercolour bleeding across a canvas, blooms across his cheeks. gojo's hazy gaze flickers for a second, and it sends a thrill through you. he's affected by this, by you.

it's hard to resist the slow smile that curves your lips, light and playful if only to mask the way your own heart is racing, "are you seriously shy now, gojo?"

gojo's expression shifts again almost immediately, as if that subtle invulnerability has been replaced by something sharper, almost indignant. he sits up a little straighter, the movement making you acutely aware of how the hard planes of his body feel beneath you.

"shy? no," gojo says, his voice steady but edged with some need to defend his honour, "i just...don't usually do this. that's all."

there's a sincerity in his words, an almost begrudging honesty that takes you by surprise. you tilt your head, as your murmur, "i don't either."

before you can second-guess yourself, you tilt your head down. pressing your lips to gojo's in a featherlight kiss. his taste is intoxicating, honey and sweet grapes mingling with a hint of that ridiculous vanilla drink from earlier. you pull back almost as quickly as you leaned in, testing the waters.

but your breath catches when you see that the blue of his eyes has deepened, darkened. and his lips, pink-blush and slightly parted, form a quiet and stunned oh!

"cool," gojo manages, his voice rougher than you expected, and you bite back a laugh as you watch him swallow hard.

"huh, cool?" you echo, your amusement bubbling over, "that's it? that's all you've got?"

gojo's grip on your waist tightens, and his hands are now splayed over your spine. anchoring you to him, as his mouth curves into something sly, though his flushed cheeks betray his composure, "compliments to the chef?"

you shift slightly, pressing more of your weight firmly into his lap. though not yet close enough to situate yourself over his groin, delighting in the way gojo's blush spreads down his neck, staining his skin a shade reminiscent of ripe berries swirling in cream.

you can feel gojo's attention as much as you can see it, how his own gaze lingers, deliberate and unhurried. taking you like a masterpiece that deserves more than a cursory glance. the hand that had been steady on your back shifts, his fingers threading through your hair. he watches as the strands slip and fall beneath his touch.

"thought you said you wanted me, gojo," you tease, though you're certain your voice is betraying the way your pulse is doing its best impression of the macarena in your jugular, "are y'gonna do something or not?"

gojo's gaze snaps back to you, a flicker of something far more intense passing through those impossibly blue eyes. full of hunger, need even. the hand in your hair slides away, only to settle at your jaw. it's warm and steady, his thumb brushing slightly over the plush of your bottom lip.

"i do want you," gojo says, his voice low and steady and maddeningly genuine, "want you to kiss me again. and again. as many times as you want until i forget my own name."

"gojo —"

"satoru," he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly, stripped of any previous swagger. it's unsteady and raw, affected in a way that excites you. sends a dark heat curling low between your thighs, "you can call me that."

"satoru," you repeat softly, letting the syllables fall from your lips, unfurling in the most hazy way.

something within the man shifts. his hand tightens on your waist, dragging you closer in a way that punches the air from your lungs. right over -

oh. the thick, curve of his erection straining against slacks that probably cost more than your monthly salary. it's deliberate, almost desparate at how the invisible thread snapped inside him. unravelled the careful composure he's been clinging to until now.

"go on," gojo murmurs, his voice dark with need, "kiss me again, please."

you lean closer, eyes flickering to his lips, and your pulse roaring in your ears, "who would i be to deny you any wish, satoru?" the words come out more reverent that you'd expected, as if your entire world has been tilted off its axis.

and then you kiss him, hard. desparate. as if his lips are your birthright, a homeland to claim. and gojo's kissing you back, carrying a sweetness that seems both foreign and familiar. in an instant, the weight of another man, a dreary haze in your past, vanishes. gojo is suddenly everything you didn't know you needed, vibrant and electrifying.

"let me know if it's too much," gojo breathes against your lips, his voice shaky as if he's trying to tether himself to the earth. but your kiss deepens, frantic and unrestrained. his mouth moves against yours with a hunger that sends sparks down your spine, and you suddenly realise you quite like the taste of vanilla when it's dripping from his open kisses.

you pull away, for every human needs air. but the sight before you has you clenching your thighs desperately around the bulge where you sit atop. gojo's gaze is heavy, full of that desparate longing that makes your chest ache. his lips are swollen, a soft cherry hue from your kisses. and strands of white hair fall over his blue eyes.

"look what you've done to me, fuck. miss you already," gojo murmurs, and before you can respond, he surges forward, hands pressing against your face with the intensity of a storm. one hand reaches to find the nape of your neck, letting you surrender to the heat of this touch.

you crave more, so much more from gojo, who's taking you in like you're his last breath, his final indulgance. it's as if he's found a new devotion in you, ready to worship you at the alter of your false godhood. but before you can part your mouth to tell him exactly what you and where, gojo's hands are already sneaking under your top, brushing against the trembling skin of your torso.

his teeth are biting down on your lip, leaving you dizzy. and gasping, and so damp in your panties as the fabric of your top is peeled away, and you're left shivering, fighting against the cold of the december air. you find yourself pressing harder into the warmth of his chest, letting the swell of your chest press flat against him.

"shoulda' turned the heat on before we came in," gojo murmurs, breathless as his lips hover a mere centimetre away from yours, "got nothin' to worry about, sweetheart. i'll keep you warm."

"didn't t-think i'd spend christmas eve like this," you gasp, your head lolling to the side as gojo presses open-mouthed kisses to the soft arc of your neck, sensitive even to the cool air.

"no?" gojo's reply is breathy, almost frantic as if he's fumbling in the heat of the moment and has little grasp over the words tumbling out of his mouth, "neither did i. but this? b-better than any fuckin' mission they could've sent me on."

you cock your head, feeling the heat of his clothed cock underneath your thighs, "m-mission, huh? what are you talking about - mmph!" but the rest of the question never escapes your lips for it's swallowed up by another one of gojo's candied kisses.

his rough hands work deftly, finding the clasp of your bra with ease. a pretty crimson thing, almost sheer as it caught the light. and in the centre, a tiny satin bow sat like the final touch on a perfectly wrapped gift. you had only worn it half-heartedly earlier in the morning, some forced christmas cheer for your dreary day ahead.

the look on gojo's face was anything but composed, staring at your cupped tits like you'd knocked the air out of him and his chest rose and fall as though he were remembering how to breathe. in a single fluid motion, your bra is unhooked. the faint metallic click barely audible over the pounding in your chest and he's tossing it aside with a casual flick, his focus entirely on you.

you find yourself mesmerised by his eyes, those swirling pools of blue that seem to have stolen fragments of the sky itself, clouds brushed into cerulean depths with strokes of syrupy smoothness. they're breathtaking, but the thought shatters as gojo's canines graze the flesh of your breasts, a sharp and teasing nip that pulls a gasp from your lips. leaves you rocking sharply against his erection, making him throw his head back, ragged.

the playful string blooms into a flush of heat, and gojo's at it again, his mouth working to leave faint red marks in its wake. you squeal, half in surprise and half in helpless laughter (and entirely in a lusty haze) but gojo only pulls back enough to murmur, "what? can't help myself."

but then he peers at you abruptly, his lips parted as he catches his breath, "wait. do you wanna —?" and gojo tilts his snowy hair towards the shadowy doorway that leads out of the living room, the implication clear even through his panting.

you nod, breathless, "yeah, jus' help me up."

without hesitation, a strong arm slides around your waist, and before you know it, you're being swept into a semi-bridal carry, and your head is resting against the fabric of his dress shirt. not a bad feeling, one you could get used to.

at the doorway, gojo lets out a low 'shit!', nudging the door open with his foot. the faint sound of clattering follows as he kicks something out of the way. you glance down from your entirely too comfortable vantage point, spotting a smattering of cheap tinsel, all glittering in metallic silver and gold, tangled with round baubles that glisten faintly under the dim light.

some have little smears of glue, and uneven glitter patches, as if crafted by unsteady hands, but with earnest effort.

"you big on christmas or something?" you tease, delighting in how the tips of his ears light up like nose of a famous reindeer.

gojo freezes for a moment, almost sheepish as he clears a path, clearly trying to look as macho as possible as he gingerly pushes aside a string of green lights, "made those for my students," he mutters, "thought they'd like them in the classroom tomorrow."

your laugh grows louder, and gojo's brows furrow, his tone growing defensive, "it's a nice surprise for the classroom!"

"i'm not making fun of you!" you insist, leaning up to press a gentle, soothing kiss to the hollow of his collarbone, "it's sweet. i think it's really nice, actually. wait, you're a teacher?"

gojo's mouth quirks up in a faint smile, "something like that," he says cryptically, finally clearing a decent and hazard-free path into a sleek, and clean bedroom. it's all modern space, all clean lines in shades of cream and white, and navy.

gojo sets you down gently, and the plush fabric cradles you as your back lands on fresh linen. and for a quiet, tender moment, you're both caught in the stillness. gojo kneels at the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on each of your thighs as if he's anchoring himself there.

his gaze is steady, content, maybe even adoring in a way that feels too intimate for someone who you barely know. there's a warmth in his expression, like he's savouring the sight of you, searching for something — and he's found exactly what he's hoped for.

almost without thinking, you lift a hand, cupping the sides of his face. his skin is warm beneath your palm, soft with the faintest hint of pale stubble that seems to fade into his skin. the moment your hands makes contact, gojo leans into your touch instinctively, his white lashes fluttering closed.

"hey, 'toru," you murmur softly, "y'still with me?"

gojo's eyes snap open at the sound of that, sharp and bright, as if the nickname itself has sparked a challenge in him. a low and almost frustrated sound escapes from the back of his throat, and he presses a feather-light kiss to the inside of your knee.

you don't miss at how his teeth sink into his bottom lip again, worrying and working the plush flesh like he's trying to steady himself. spreading your weeping thighs aside, as his gaze is fixed on something. intense, unwavering. the sheer focus of it making heat creep up your neck.

at how he must be staring hungrily at damp, sheer red fabric that clings to the outline of your cunt. at how it must shimmer almost translucently now, the sticky slick of your arousal enhancing the gloss, making your panties glisten under the light.

you're feeling an unfamiliar kind of shy under the weight of his attention, at how he must see how the fabric clings closely to your puffy, swollen folds — the delicate weave exposing the shape of your taut pussy, practically weeping for his touch.

you needn't have asked, for gojo was already diving into deliver.

he's gliding his index finger over your dripping pussy, letting the tangy syrup sink onto his fingers, leaning in to press a sweet, almost innocent kiss to your clothed cunt, "she seems desperate for me, don'tcha think, heh?"

the sound of the fabric ripping is sharp and wet, a squelching and almost fleshy tone, a sound that's both soft and sharp to the blood rushing between your ears. a strained tear of your beautiful panties, leaving cool air to gently leave a kiss of its own upon your cunt.

you gape at him, a bit too stunned to find coherent words, "hey, what the f-fuck! those were like super expensive!"

gojo rolls his eyes, the kind of look that has a bit too much attitude for someone who's practically begging on his knees for a taste of you, "don't get all huffy on me, sweetheart. 'm gonna buy you more, is tha' alright?"

"i'll r-remember that, satoru," you murmur, giving a sharp tug at his white strands, "you gon' have to give me your number now."

gojo shudders, the muscles in his back rippling underneath his tight shirt, "was already gonna," and he's back to pressing soft, kitten licks to your now exposed folds, small circles over your throbbing clit.

you buck your canting hips closer to the heat of his mouth, to where the pink tip of his teasing tongue peeks out of a pretty mouth, "satoru, c'mon. can't you just, fuck—"

you sharply cry out as he presses his mouth forward, a sudden surge of heat jolting through you. burying himself deep, his nose brushing against the sweet, syrup that coats your pussy, and the rhythmic, wet movements of his tongue send shivers through your entire being.

"mhm, jus' as sweet as you look, baby," gojo gasps, swirling and flicking his tongue, teasing you with every deliberate patter of the muscle near your winking entrance. so messy, slick and you're not sure where he ends and you begin as it all glides together carnally.

gojo seems languidly tipsy, just from munching through the gloss of your cunt, far more intoxicated from your taste than any cheap christmas liquor. he alternates between pushing his tongue past the ring of your tight walls, and then wrapping his lips around the searing pulse of your clit, leaving your hips shaking and dragging over his mouth, smearing yourself over his chin.

you're fisting delicate white locks with fierce urgency, and he hisses and then chuckles into your pussy, "tch! ease up there for me, yeah? jus' move your hips like you were doin' before," and you comply, angling yourself better so he can flatten his tongue against your folds, jaw grinding deeper into you "hah, yeah, just like that."

"taking good care of you though, aren't i? wait, say it. say that 'm making you feel good," and he's bullying a long finger into your gummy walls, clingy and sopping, "say 'm making you feel better than a-anyone ever has," and you just mewl as your arousal must surely be dripping down his forearms, staining the cuffed sleeve of his shirt as he takes your sweet juices down his throat.

there's stars beginning to twinkle at the edge of your vision, and you know you must be close, for your heart is practically dancing a heavy beat against your ribcage, and you suddenly push his mouth away, watching as a clear strand of spit or your slick forms a taut bridge between his mouth and your folds.

"w-wait, satoru, s-stop."

gojo's head lifts, eyes blinking as if coming out of a faze. but then, like a switch, something sharp flickers behind his gaze and concern floods in. his thin brows furrow slightly, glossy lips parting as he reaches out, as if to steady your hips, "you okay, sweetheart? what's wrong?"

your heart stutters, pounding so loudly you're sure he can hear it. you try to steady your breathing, but the tremour in your fingertips betray you as they gently slide through your hair, the silky strands tangling around your hand.

"nothin' wrong, 'toru. but i was gonna cum," and gojo's face, still flushed and soft with arousal, splits into a shy, amused grin.

"hah, i know. that's what i wanted," he's close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath hitting your aching cunt, but you shake your head again.

"feels unfair, wanna see you too. wan' you to cum in me,"

you watch, almost in awe, as a low and guttural sound escapes gojo satoru, raw and unfiltered. gojo runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes dark with something dangerously close to hunger.

"you sure?" and his voice is hoarse, unsure despite his roaming gaze. you nod, your hands digging into his shoulder, tugging at the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, desparate to feel the warmth of his skin underneath.

his shaky laugh of disbelief only makes you more aroused, whining for him to hurry up, and before you know it, he's standing up, towering over your boneless form on the sheets.

"how could i deny you anything?" he murmurs, echoing your earlier words. gojo's hands reach for the hem, the fabric shifting as he pulls it over his head, revealing a milky expanse of toned skin, smooth and taut over a set of abs that should easily land him on a gq list.

his waist is slender, defined in all the right places, and the soft taper of muscles make your breath catch. but the soft white trail of hair that reaches under his waistband makes your cunt clench.

"y'seem happy with the view, don'tcha?" gojo's voice is teasing, the cocky smirk tugging at his lips, but you can hear the impatience threading his tone now too. he's not as in control as he lets on, his hands now making quick work of his belt, leaving your mouth dry when he finally pushes his black boxers down.

you should have known that his cock would be as pretty and unfairly gorgeous as the rest of him. he's circling the strawberry-red tip, glowering and throbbing, right over your gathered slick, coating it and smacking the mushroom head in a thwack! over your poor clit, leaving you jolting as he laughs and leans down to kiss you sweetly once more.

"jus' look at me, yeah?" his drawl is slow, lazy and so ruined. at the first inch of his throbbing cock that slips through your walls, he looks utterly undone. a mess of sharp edges softened by something far more primal and raw.

gojo's head tips back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as the moonlight cascades over you, "hey, sweetheart, 's not too much, yeah?"

hazy blue eyes bore into you, and for a brief moment, in the time it takes for the lightning to strike the earth, you swear that his eyes glow. almost radiant and jewel-like, with cerulean fractals shimmering as if they're emitting life of their own. perhaps its simply the electrifying stretch of inches that's rendering you to hallucinate, whining as your nails find purchase in milky skin and rippling shoulders.

"i-it's big, 'toru," you pant, feeling him almost shudder at the clipped name again, as he grips the base of his cock to bully the final inch in, sighing in contentment as he finally bottoms out, with a wet pop!

gojo looks feral like this, heaving a breath through his mouth as though the air is being taken from him from every second he spends stretching you out on his fat shaft, "hah, 'm glad, i'm so glad i met you tonight, sweetheart. fuck, fuck, y'feel i-incredible."

he's pushing your thighs further back, running his hands over the plush skin, leaving bruising red prints that won't disappear tomorrow as you moan, wanton into his open mouth, letting gojo run his lips down your jaw and into the curve of your neck.

you're practically now folded in half under the bulk of his weight, feeling stars collide in absolutely astrophysical ways, impaled further on the long and thick length of his cock, "in so deep, s-satoru."

seems that gojo is a man of little mercy, for he seems only all the more invigorated by your squeals, drawing his torso back to watch the hypnotic smack of skin on skin, of your slick and creamy froth creating fresh rings over his pistoning cock.

he's entirely out of control, as you feel your body go limp from the pleasure shooting through every nerve and pore.

depraved.

you don't realise you might have let that slip out loud, so dizzy in your cockdrunk haze because gojo's suddenly ramming himself roughly in you, as though he was desperate to have his cock kiss your cervix, to feel for every divot and nook of your cunt's walls.

"d-depraved, hah. people call me, fuck, p-people call me a lotta things, sweetheart," and gojo's so good with it, letting your pussy have not even one moment to take reprieve, having you feel each vein and bulge of his cock, "but depraved is n-new."

the hand that was dancing over your thighs flies to your swollen, aching clit. practically glistening for his attention, and his attention you did receive, "right, t-there! 'toru, mmph!" you're trying to splay your legs wider, giving his quick hand more room to swirl tight circles where you needed him most.

your double-vision gaze lingers on the ripple of his muscles, the way his arms flex and shift as he seems intent on angling you just right for him to drill his cock over and over, at some freakish and feverish pace, "y'so good, gojo," you purr, and your nails curl against his arms, pressing just enough to leave tiny crescents in his skin, the faint dampness of his exertion clinging to him, "s-so strong!"

something shifts. the glow is back, electric blue flooding his eyes like crackling storm clouds. it's almost unnerving, this unearthly brightness, as if he's some ancient god wrapped up in human skin, and you've just stumbled into a divine revelation.

gojo stills for the briefest moment, the thick head of his cock snagging on your puffy folds as he draws himself almost entirely out. the absence of motion makes you whine, an airy and impatient sound escaping your throat. that hesitation feels like a tease, like a string that's been pulled so taut, before he finally dives forward, capturing your mouth in a messy, heated kiss. sloppy in its disregard.

"s-so strong, huh?" gojo's voice is rough, shaky, as though he's trying to centre himself but your tight pussy holds him in hypnotic sway, "y-you think so? think i'm the strongest?" his lips brush yours as he speaks, and there's something almost boyish and charming in the way that he seems to be fishing for a compliment, despite the low heat in his voice.

you pull back from his wet, spit-stringed lips. just enough to wrap your hands around his neck and push him closer, deeper into you as he gutturally groans, "if i s-say yes, are y'gonna keep showing off?"

gojo's laugh is short, breathless, "y-yeah, wanna see?"

he makes quick work of pushing himself back into you, pumping himself so far in that your slick must be painting and sopping the white hairs at the base of his cock almost translucent, "o-oh my god, 'toru, fuck, oh my god!" the stretch has your head spinning, as if the skies are parting above you, and you're melodramatically left to see the light of divinity as gojo bucks his hips harshly into you. as if he's too far gone, needs to prove himself to you with a good fuck.

"you h-have to say it," gojo stutters, his words tumbling out so quickly, like rough gravel, "say it, fuck, c'mon. say i'm — say i'm the s-strongest. you have to, hnghh, god. please, jus' agree, okay?" his voice is cracking, that cocky veneer entirely shattered under the weight of his rambling desperation as he practically rummages through your sopping insides, "y-you feel it right, i mean, you can feel me — i mean."

a high whine escapes your throat as his pace becomes almost olympian, and you wonder faintly how you haven't managed to sprain a muscle or break a bone yet, how he hasn't managed to shatter something with the sheer pace and force of how gojo satoru fucks, "hah, 'toru. i'm —"

"close? g-god, i hope so. 's what i want. nothing, like n-nothing feels better than this right?" his words are falling out of him in a messy, pussydrunk rush, his eyes flickering between your face and down to where your pussy lips are bulged around his shaft, "so good, right? the b-best thing you've ever —"

you truthfully don't even hear the rest of his words, blood absolutely roaring and rearing in your ears, your ribcage as you feel the tight coil snap, letting out short, slurred snaps of his name when you cum. as he doesn't quite let up on smacking his hips right against your ass, "s-satoru, 's getting s-sensitive, oh, fuck. fuck!"

he's suddenly whining, with pleading and erratic blue eyes chasing after you, sloppily pushing down so he can gasp and pant into your open mouth, before capturing you in a heart-stopping kiss as he finally gets milked dry by your pulsing and fluttering walls. in awe of how creamy white is practically leaking out of you, dripping a stringy trail over the flesh of your thighs.

you're agape at how utterly fucked he looks right now, though you're certain you do not look much better as fat tears prick at your eyes, streaming past your ears from the overstimulation, "s-still fillin' me up, 'toru. god, do ya always cum this much?"

at first, you don't even get a response from gojo who just sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, almost as if he's trying not to cry out, but then he's back to circling your clit with a rough hand, "makin' me sound like some kinda whore, s-sweetheart. 'n and i told you. don't do this m-much."

and now he's slowing down, pleasurably painful bucks of his hips keeping glossy, white seed in you. ensuring that it coats your entire entrance, "an' it's not my fault that she," and here, he gives your clit a small smack! grinning like a madman, "n-not my fault that she's so, hah, addictive."

each tight circle of his hand on your clit sends you hurtling into yet another orgasm, one that has you begging gojo for mercy, repreive, for more. an orgasm that has him whispering the sweetest nothings into your ear, "d-don't worry, gotcha like this. gonna let you rest n-now, jus' gotta relax for me."

by the time he's slipping his still somehow hard cock out of your creamed cunt, you can feel exhaustions heavy and caring hands caress you, rendering your body limp and boneless. your eyes heavy and hazy, but you can feel a soft ghost of gojo's kiss over the shell of your ear, "h-hope y'still here in the morning, sweetheart. don't leave, yeah?"

the morning sunlight filters through the blinds, and despite the ache in your limbs that cricks your bones, you drag yourself out of bed. christmas day, after all. you've thrown on gojo's dress shirt from last night, snug enough to flutter around your hips, but oversized enough around the shoulders to let you drown in it.

it's cozy though, and even the chilly air feels refreshing against the warmth clinging to you. gojo is still sound asleep, and you had smiled at how he took little puffs of air as he was passed flat out in bed. but you always like to be up early on christmas, and there's something about the holiday that makes you feel like you need to earn the right to nap later.

you wander around the bedroom for a bit, stretching your legs as your muscle protest in earnest. eventually, you decide to make your way to that kitchen. breakfast, right.

it seems like a good idea, especially considering the last thing in your stomach was a questionably sour vodka. so you pull open the fridge, expecting something befitting of this apartment. perhaps a slab of wagyu beef, a tin of caviar, a thick block of pistachio-cream dubai chocolate. you'd even settle for sushi.

instead, you're left staring back at a stack of candy canes, some strawberry yoghurt, a carton of milk and some fast food wrappers. despite your protesting stomach, a deep amusement washes over you. it doesn't surprise you that gojo would have a fridge stocked with food you'd find at a child's birthday party and a greasy diner.

still, breakfast is in order and because you can't help it, you pull out a candy cane and start unwrapping it. you're just about take a bite when you hear the unmistakable pad of footsteps. you turn, face to face with someone who would clearly not be out of place on a vogue covershoot.

gojo hasn't tossed on a shirt, and the sunlight filters over his chiselled physique before your sight is stolen by the loose sheet wrapped around his waist. delicious. you try to snap your gaze back to his face, but it's hard to not track your gaze down his torso, like a cat eyeing a particularly irresistible sunbeam.

"good morning to you too," gojo says, a grin curling his lips, "what are you doing?" his voice is still thick with interrupted sleep, laced with a morning rasp that forces you to ground yourself and stop falling prey to the god, eros and his machinations.

"breakfast, 'm starving."

"don't bother," gojo says, shaking his head, "we can go somewhere nice for breakfast. like real, actual food. don't think you want half-eaten yoghurt."

you nod enthusiastically, mind turning back to the peeling seal of the strawberry yoghurt with a spoon sticking out of it. but then, something else catches your mind's attention. a little curiosity piques, one that you cannot help but ask him.

"wait," you begin, snapping your teeth around the saccharine mint of the candy cane, "y'know what's crazy. like, i swear your eyes glowed last night. not even in a silly compliment way, but like electricity. i thought i was like, losing it.'

you expect gojo to brush it off with a wink, or maybe laugh it off like you're just teasing him. but instead, the man's face shifts, that cocky smile faltering for the briefest moment. it's gone so fast that you think you almost imagined it. but why does he look...almost guilty?

before you can process that, you realised you've leaned yourself over the counter, and in your absent-mindedness, your elbow presses a button on the answering machine. a small beep, and suddenly, a voice blares through the room,

"hey, gojo-sensei!" comes a high-pitched, distinctly teenage voice, an excited boy who sounds a little crackly over the speaker, "so, we found this grade one curse yesterday...and uh, we totally got rid of it. we were gon' call you, but you didn't pick up. but i almost got my arm torn off. wait, no! that sounds dramatic, i got shoko to look at it anyway. so what we're all wondering right is that we don't have to hand in any homework now right? as like reparations?"

the voice crackles off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. you stand there, absolutely dumbstruck, staring at the answering machine like it's about to burst into flames or start singing christmas carols.

gojo, meanwhile, has the most awkward look on his face, clearly caught between embarrassment...and what? panic, amusement?

"satoru, what the fuck?"

he looks at you for a moment, but instead of speaking, he lets out a long and exasperated sigh before pulling out one of the counter chairs, "you're gonna want to sit down for this one, sweetheart."

[theowritesfiction]

the majority of BG3 fandom still sleeping on Minthara and pretending she doesn't exist is a fucking crime, especially here on tumblr. Like, you guys talk a big game about worshiping controversial characters, but as soon as things get real and someone like Minthara does a bit of genocide/war crimes, y'all suddenly act so morally outraged, like oh no, she really crossed a line there. Ugh. Your weakness sickens me, just as it would sicken Minthara. Just admit that you simply can't hang with the truly controversial icons out there.

[vampirevatican]

Can you do a Judd birch alphabet? You can decide if it’s nsfw or not

I've decided to do both, so here's the...

SFW & NSFW JUDDPHABET

Affection

He's affectionate but it's mostly through actions. (i.e. dinner date from the valentines day episode) I think he'd have his hands on you in public but in subtle ways. Finger in the belt loop of your pants, arm around your waist, arm on the back of the couch when you both sit together.

Best friend

He's a good guy at his core. you can not talk me down from that hill So I think he'd make a great friend. Hell quite a few alt people are and that usually comes from their beliefs.

A great listener, doesn't solve the problem unless you're looking for a solution, would offer to go torch some abandoned building or some other crimes but is only dead set if you are and it'd actually help you feel better.

Cuddles

He's big spoon, loves when you guys get ready to sleep and you get as close as possible without him having to do it.

Dirty secret

He's actually a softie. You can't tell me that he's not. The raccoons, melon ball, Judd has a soft side and it's canon.

Experience (NSFW)

No, yeah, he's experienced. Sexual and Romantic. Two girlfriends shown in the show, or rather at least one girl that he planned a dinner date for that was kinda fancy? Which makes me think they would've had at least a year together.

Favorite position(s) (NSFW)

Speaking of the letter 'E'

Face down, ass up is his usual go to. To get more specific? I think he'd love doing the mating press so he can really drill in. Big boy go deep... However also, rapid fire

69, The bicycle, hoisting you up on counters or bending you over. It depends on the amount of horny and where but one thing is for sure, he wants to bury himself into the hilt.

Gentle (NSFW implied)

I say, he's gentle when he wants to be. Ofc great at aftercare but outside of the obvious I think he's attentive to emotions of others, maybe not empathetic but what is he if not an observer.

Hair (NSFW implied)

So I've been over how he doesn't use a 16 in 1. Now let's talk about how I think he maintains his hair, and... a brief headcanon on the situation downstairs.

So getting general around 6 to 12 weeks he'll re-dye his hair. Probably at the 6 mark and with the sides of his hair, maybe even back, then we have the 2 to 4 week timing of him shaving it again. Notice how I say he does it. Sure he could get someone else too and depending on his schedule he sometimes does.

As for his junk... I don't think he shaves, maybe trims?

I love you

He's not about to say it first, and if he is then it's probably in response to you doing something he didn't expect or some random cuddle session in the back of his van.

Jacking off (NSFW)

Id love to bring in the concept of his own hormone monster but it's not necessary. He doesn't wank it often but when he does it's either built up or an in the moment thing.

Kisses (NSFW implied)

He's such a... good kisser 🎶~

Speaking wild... He's great at making out, imo, very passionate and heated.

Speaking soft? I like to think he'd kiss your forehead if you're small, or like the top of your head?? Before pulling you closer to him. Is it spur of the moment or he notices you being pouty, yeah.

Little ones (is he good with kids)

Again see letter 'D'. I swear he's good with kids. ffs he also helped out Andrew, reluctantly ofc, but i swear this dude is great with kids.

Mornings

Picture with me waking up in his bed, sharing the bathroom together and heading downstairs to a greeting from his supportive parents. Very cute, usually chill, and yes he drives you home or you head out with him. Nice breakfast into little adventures with your punk rock boyfriend, isn't that fun!

Nights

I love to think when it's not spent in his or your bedroom then it's his van or at some abandoned building. Lots of cuddles, maybe some arson or bne of an old abandoned business but if y'all were caught by the owner you'd be in trouble because you're defacing the property.

Open

I don't think he's an open guy, unless he's actually comfortable around you. It definitely takes some time but the more he learns about you the more you learn about him and it starts subtle af too. That is til y'all are a few drinks or blunt hits deep and everything starts to bleed

Pace (NSFW)

What pace do you need or want him to go? Naturally I think he'd have a steady pace and rhythm but if you needed it to be different then he'll adjust.

Questions (does he ask about you?)

See letter 'O'. I feel like he's direct but also would ask others about you if you aren't close enough yet and he doesn't have much of a choice. Mainly out of curiosity or wanting to do something for you.

Remember (and from those questions what does he remember?)

I say everything because again, he is an observer. Any little thing you like, stuff you hate, your fashion taste, favorite food, color, music genres. He knows it.

Stamina (NSFW)

For a dude that exercises, and is built the way he is i think it only makes sense for him to have really good stamina. Which means multiple rounds... if you're up for it.

Toys (NSFW)

For those who've been liking my works from last year about this man. Im going to call the knife a toy, but ofc he's definitely open to using a vibrator or other things in the bedroom

Ugly (the good, the bad and the ugly - headcanon negative traits)

So the canon aside, i feel like if you guys got into a genuine argument he'd shut down or double down. Not a huge red flag, and a better option to calm down and walk away but for those who can't handle that he ready for a breakup and him saying some real mean shit.

I can't see him being controlling or possessive but there's a possibility of it ramping up and if you two don't get to the route of it then... hwoof. especially if you aren't okay with it

Volume (NSFW)

He doesn't get loud... At all. But by god do I want him to be. Mfer can make you scream but him?? He be up in your ear mummering nd shit.

Warning (would be protect you? even from himself?)

Absolutely! If he's going out to do something really bad then he's not bringing you along, no matter how badass you are. Y'all get into an argument? Like I said before. I think he'd warn you or before taking the gloves off he'd address how this is just anger, and if you two wanna continue then he's okay with it as long as you know this is just being genuinely pissed

X exes (what's it like being his ex?)

Friends, friends with benefits if he's not dating someone else and you're okay with it. Things slip back into friend territory if y'all separated on good terms. Bad terms? No y'all do not talk... At all.

Yelling

Again he's not known to raise his voice but that doesn't mean he's not capable of doing so and I'm a firm believer that it'd be scary as fuck. Seeing you scared, if you do get scared, or even tear up bc if you don't do well with confrontation then he'd stop. If he was still mad or irritated then he just walks off to cook down, but if not then he instantly apologizes.

Zzz (going to bed together)

See the letter 'C', but anyways. I swear he's a cuddle bug, i need him to be. But he'd never admit it.

[ariadnes-elixirs]

while i'm working on their actual stories....

fun facts about each of my yans!

characters: yan noble boy, yan neighbor, yan forgotten god

yandere noble boy (oliver)

struggles with people and social interaction

spends most of his time gardening and baking

has a habit of showing up unannounced to the isekaied reader's family estate

neither of your parents mind

in fact both your parents and his parents have been pushing y'all to get married

but he refuses an arranged marriage cause he wants you to fall in love with him organically

not afraid of manipulating you though

very wet cat vibe overall

he has long white hair usually tied with a red ribbon gifted to him from you when y'all were children

isekaied reader has no clue what story they were isekaied into cause both them and elliott are so far removed from the main plotline of the og story

they just kinda live in a neighboring kingdom allied with the empire where Main Plot happens

so reader has no magical advantage from knowing the plot ahead of time :)

probably the least dangerous out of everyone here

he's more of the devoted/obsessed/manipulative type

he would never want to get his dainty hands dirty unless he absolutely has to

does bury evidence of any crimes he commits underneath his flowerbeds though

but yeah he's a wet cat

definitely would try "rizzing" you up by going "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEE"

yandere neighbor (elliott)

he likes spicy food

his hair is naturally black, but he usually dyes it blue

he is an engineer that mostly works remotely from his apartment

is a prodigy, and usually works freelance cause no one can pay him enough to permanently keep him on staff

rich

overworks himself though

takes on too many jobs and sometimes forgets that he is a human being that needs to eat and sleep

but will scold you for overworking yourself

a natural caretaker

he wants to be depended on and loves taking care of people

and when he takes care of someone else he will usually end up trying to take care of himself to lead by example

so his love language (giving) is acts of service

but as you might expect (cause yandere) he is not afraid to create circumstances in which you would be forced to depend on him

he would never hurt you directly

if he does go after someone with the intent to kill, it'll only be a person that has made your life a living hell

then when they're gone he'll be that person you can talk to about it

but usually he just causes some problems with the wiring of some electronics in your apartment when he visits

and then waits like a schoolgirl on his bed kicking his feet up in the air until you call him and ask him to fix it

has the potential be to actually dangerous/threatening, but never to you

yandere forgotten god (cal)

was banished by the gods

has been stuck on his island for so long that he genuinely doesn't remember how long he's been there

loves and takes care of the animals on his island

particularly fond of birds

also a big plant person

loves growing plants and has them absolutely everywhere

they each have names and he will introduce you to all of them if you'd let him

really sweet but being alone for so long has warped his idea of love vs obsession

he's doing his best

literally no one else is around, so he isn't particularly jealous or concerned about someone stealing you from him

he is concerned about you leaving, though

so if you try to leave, he will come up with reasons for you to stay

will start with stuff like "oh there's going to be a storm later today" and later shift to more unsavory approaches

once again, never anything that physically harms you

but will go to other extreme lengths to make sure you never leave (or even want to leave)

he is a god so probably the most dangerous? but because of the situation that side would never really come out

because he would never directly hurt you or attempt to physically harm you

(kidnapping is on the table though if you are PERSISTENT about leaving + actively taking steps to leave + talking you out of it doesn't work)

but yeah he's a silly little guy who has been left alone for too long and is now slightly insane

he's still a sweetiepie though :)

a/n: sorry for all the delays. i keep getting swamped with more work :/ and have been working furiously on that

i will have more free time once that is done though so hopefully the real parts + requests will be out soon (i am delusional)

anyways, i can go more in depth on each character and other details about them i might have forgotten to mention or brushed over if y'all want. just let me know!

[dewitty1]

Fic Recs Wrap Up February 2025 (ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

Jasmine in Bloom by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill) @lqtraintracks

This is not something Draco can have in his life… Potter overturning all that he’s carefully cultivated. They’re not compatible and never will be. Draco’s been playing with fire. It just so happens that he likes how Potter smoulders before being allowed close enough to burn. Rec Post

Midnight on the Janus Thickey Ward by Quill_lumos

After the war Draco Malfoy has been assigned community service to help atone for his ‘crimes’ He is well used to the graveyard shift at St Mungo’s, but his life is about to change forever after a new patient is brought in for treatment. Rec Post

The One Where Draco Loses his Mind and Gains a Boyfriend by oldenuf2nb, sassy_cissa  @dianacopland @sassy-cissa

“How is it Potter can manage to drive me crazy and yet make me want to help him? I have to have lost my mind to even consider this insanity.” Rec Post

Says The Magpie To The Morning (Sorrow, Take Your Own Advice) by Femme (femmequixotic) @femmequixotic

It's terribly bad form, sleeping with your ex when you're still half in love with the bastard. Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆

Equally Cursed and Blessed by Moonflower_Rose @moonflower-rose

Harry's back at Hogwarts to attempt his final year, again. This time he's sure there'll be no shenanigans. Well. Maybe there'll be a few.

Baker's Modern Wands by saintgarbanzo @saintgarbanzo

At Baker's Modern Wands Lavender Brown is starting a revolution, Draco Malfoy is trying his best, and Harry Potter is really annoyed about it all.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading! xoxo Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

[some-pers0n]

I'm gonna be blunt and say that I really don't think a lot of people kinda get these two characters. Sure, yeah, there'll be people like "Psshh no?? Me?? I know exactly who these guys are" and like, yeah maybe you do. Maybe you'll read this while nodding your head and whatnot. Maybe you won't.

Either way, I think there's a decent amount of people who don't...get Qibli and Winter. I mainly see it in shipping stuff. I know it's kinda idiotic to go looking for character stuff in shipping-- you know what?? No. I think it's perfectly sound logic to try and look for meaningful character writing in ship stuff, especially with fanfics. I've got that aroace mindset where I can only comprehend a ship if it has a clear and exact thematical and character-driven purpose.

Anywho, I think there's something to be craved with how Qinter is talked about in the fandom. I think there's something in general to be desired when discussing Qibli and Winter in general (or, hell, most of the characters) or other ships they're in, but I want to discuss Qinter mainly as a means to view them through the lens of a relationship. Some sort of duo and pair. Two young dragonets trying to survive.

Winter and Qibli come from incredibly similar backgrounds. That sounds ridiculous at a first glance, but when you think about it, they do. They both were raised with terrible parents who held them to an unrealistic standard that neither really wanted to be.

Winter was forced to become a child soldier and be the best of the best, despite his best rightfully not being absolutely perfect and having a ton of heart and soul in him. Ironically enough, his sheer loyalty to his friends that he displays later would be commended in the IceWing army, but is only looked down upon because he's showing anything other than pure apathy at existence and disgust when confronted with the other tribes. Winter is a kind soul who was shaped and twisted into becoming somebody far meaner to fit the idea of what his parents wanted him to be. It's a mask he wears to fit in. To be at least be tolerated by the dragons he only wants the approval from.

Qibli was raised in the slums of Scorpion Den. The back alleys and dark, seedy streets that are avoided. He had to fit the build of a thief. A petty pickpocket that lurks around like his family, doing nothing more than swiping whatever goods they could get their hands on. Qibli was kind and sweet, which obviously was a terrible sin in the eyes of his family. Like Winter, this planted a seed of wanting to be loved, although to a significantly larger extent than Winter felt. Qibli became obsessed with the idea of being loved as he hated being seen as nothing. He wanted nothing more than to be praised and admired because of just how neglected he was. So, he pretends to be somebody likable. Somebody who others care about. A mask to conceal the dragon he feels can never be loved.

Because of their backgrounds, they feel at odds when they're introduced to one another. Qibli is the laid-back jokester type while Winter is snarly and angry. Thanks to Moon's powers though, we get a look into them even before their book.

We see that Qibli is paranoid and his brain is constantly trying to predict others. He's always in a state of stress and fear, putting on a performance to try and be liked and see which dragons are the biggest threats to him. He's never gotten used to living outside of the crime-filled Scorpion Den, and the memories of childhood where he had to lay awake thinking that some dragon who his mother stole from will murder them all in their sleep remain. He's scared and afraid.

Winter managed to convince himself that he is this mean and nasty dragon, but really he's not. There's moments of hesitancy in MR from him. He's also just. generally not really that much in the wrong in the book. Sorry my Winter Apologist side is coming out but y'all hate too much on a character who was just kinda mean for some random dragon he only knew for a couple days at most by then doing stuff that was very suspicious. Yeah obviously Moon is the protagonist and we like her and know the full context, but Winter?? He doesn't know anything!

I digress however. They're in. not the best of states. Sure, yeah, Qibli had ran from Vulture and Cobra and was now Thorn's adoptive son of sorts, but he was obsessed with Thorn to the point of almost blind worship. He hailed her as some grand dragon because he had never been loved before. Being loved by somebody felt incomprehensible. He wants to repay it since he feels like he doesn't deserve it.

Winter on the other hand has just gotten away from a terrible situation, where his family more or less just hates him. They hate him so much it's not even funny. Winter had gotten Hailstorm, somebody who Winter loved and admired, was stolen away by the SkyWings and presumed dead for years because of him. He blames himself. He constantly thinks that he should've been the one taken away instead. He doesn't see himself worthy to live, especially not compared to Hailstorm. Hailstorm is charming, smart, strong, and better in every capacity to Winter. How could he ever live up to that?

Their shared flaw is that they feel inadequate. They feel as though there's something inherently flawed with themselves, something that they need to hide away. It was shaped because of their similar backstories, where they were neglected and abused and put down because of them never being able to meet the unreasonable expectations placed on them. Because of this trauma, their personalities in the present are shaped to try and fit in.

It's only by being with the Jade Winglet do they begin to unlearn those habits. I would imagine that, in moments where they chat with each other for the first real time (not fighting or anything), they...notice how alike they are. Like holding up a mirror to themselves. Despite how differing their personalities are, they feel one in the same. The other side of the coin.

It's why I think Qinter really works as something more than a cheap means for comedic relief. They bounce off each other really well and in an interesting way, which makes for their interactions feeling a lot more meaningful when they put away the act and show and are genuine. I honestly think that they would want to help each other out. They see themselves in the other and don't want them to feel like they have to do this, but they can't even save themselves.

It's only with time however. Healing is a process. It's sure as hell hard to do it all alone. It's why I love a lot the themes of friendship and togetherness in arc 2 especially. All of the POVs learn how to be more confident and sure of themselves through their friends. I just wish that Qinter was talked about in a more intellectually stimulating way than "yellow boy laughs at blue boy for being angsty teen"

[cursedreverie1945]

Brain - eh, I'm not really into the true crime Tumblr stuff.

Brain, again - WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU POST ABOUT?? WAR CRIMES ARE TRUE CRIMES.

Brain, part three - shit.

Mr. War Criminal, himself. King of Resting Bitch Face.

If y'all can't tell, I'm living on lack of sleep, 2 pots of coffee, and 3 Monsters. That I have not had a freaking heart attack yet is probably proof that a God exists.

[perotovar]

bloody kisses — part two: i don't wanna be me

pairing: shane morrissey/tim rockford rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 6.6k content: vaguely takes place in the 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, descriptions of a crime scene/injury (bullet wound and head trauma)(not shane or tim), heavy petting, oral (male receiving), protected p in a, discussions of dom/sub and top/bottom, tiny bit of misogyny (shane is ignorant af and it's like 2002 lol), first time bottoming, shane's internal battles, tim being a really fucking good partner, f e e l i n g s, seriously this is sappy y'all, if i missed anything lmk! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @chronically-ghosted (seriously i can't explain how much taylor has helped with this story, go give her some love!)

series summary: shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.

series masterlist

for updates, follow @oakslibrary and turn on notifications ♥

Shane locked himself in his bedroom for three days after the disaster at Tim’s apartment. He’s never felt so stupid in his life. How could he just… kiss him like that? 

Why did he do that?

He thought about that moment constantly, for hours at a time. Tim’s lips, for how briefly they’d touched his own, felt so… correct. They were soft, a little chapped, but warm. It was like things clicked into place for him. He doesn’t remember any kisses with Raven ever feeling like that. Or any girl he’d been with, for that matter. 

He hated himself for how good it felt. Especially because Tim ended it before it ever really began.

Shane wasn’t sure if there was anyone else he could go to about any of this. Legally, he still lived with his mom and her husband in their downtown apartment, but they never saw each other. He basically had his own area of the apartment to himself. His mom and her husband made enough that they didn’t really notice or care what Shane did with his life. He didn’t have any goals, and he guessed that’s why he did petty crimes like he did. He was just so fucking bored.

And now he was dealing with… this. 

He stared at Tim’s business card, his thumb rubbing over the older man’s name. He was curled up on his bed, holding one of his pillows close. He looked at the clock on his bedside table. The bright green text read 2:18am. He sighed to himself and rolled over onto his back.

He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.

Nobody noticed a change in Tim at work. If they did, they were professional enough not to bring it up. He felt fucking awful for how things went down with Shane. He wanted to reciprocate so badly, but Shane was vulnerable and Tim didn’t want to take advantage of him like that.

“Boss, I got those files you needed.”

Tim looked up from his desk, pen still in hand while he filled out the paperwork for a robbery he’d taken care of the day before. He’d thought about Shane and his magazine the entire time. “Thank you,” he grunted, pointing at an empty spot on his desk. “Can just set it there, please.”

The agent set it down and took off, getting back to work.

Tim looked back down at the file he was working on and sighed, losing his focus. He looked over at the phone on his desk and frowned. He didn’t have Shane’s number so he couldn’t call him. He wanted to tell Shane that what happened wasn’t wrong, or even unwanted.

The sound of heavy footsteps brought him out of his thoughts. Matthews, his partner, slammed Tim’s office door open.

“There’s been a shooting!”

Tim furrowed his brows, pushing his thoughts of Shane away for now, and focusing on the task at hand. “Where? Do we know anything else?” He asked, opening the drawer in his desk to put his gun holster on over his shoulders.

“Yeah, it was at a liquor store downtown. We have an idea of who the victim is based on descriptions from the employee working at the time, but not of the shooter,” Matthews answered, handing Tim’s trenchcoat to him. 

The two detectives made their way to Tim’s car and sped off to the crime scene.

“His name is Howard Xavier, and he’s twenty-eight,” Watson, the cop who was in the area, explained. “He’s on his way to the hospital now, but he looks to be in decent condition.”

Tim nodded, eyes looking over the crime scene. Flashes of photos being taken filled the peripheries of his vision. There were bottles of wine and hard liquor crashed everywhere. “Looks like Xavier tried to run from the shooter,” he mumbled, crouching down to look at the dirty boot prints on the linoleum floor.

“Do you think they knew each other?” Matthews asked.

Tim sighed, looking up at his partner before standing again. “Who’s to say?” He shrugged. “Maybe. Do we have any information on any relatives or associates?”

“No family, but we’ve found a couple of friends on file,” Matthews replied. “I think we’ve got them back at the station.”

Tim nodded. “Let’s head back and see what we can find.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tim couldn’t believe his fucking eyes. 

Known Associates: Tracy Wynanski and Shane Morrissey.

This had to have been the coincidence to end all coincidences or Tim had an insane amount of luck. There was a phone number for Tracy, but no address. He stepped out of his office and approached his secretary, an older woman by the name of Dolores.

“Can you get me Shane Morrissey’s file, please?” He asked, voice a little more gruff than he’d intended.

“Of course, sweetie, give me one moment,” Dolores smiled, rolling her chair to the file cabinets. 

Shane’s file in hand, he sat back at his desk and started looking through the files for Howard Xavier again. A bullet wound to the thigh, and blunt force trauma to the head.

He figured it’d be easy to get the professional parts out of the way first and called Tracy, asking if she knew anything about the shooting. She said she didn’t, since her and Howard hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months. She’d gone back home to Philadelphia after a breakup. 

“Thank you, Tracy,” he said. “Do you happen to know Shane Morrissey? He’s one of Howard’s other known associates and I’d like to ask if he knows anything.”

Tracy let out a bitter laugh and said, “Oh, I know Shane. He can kiss my ass for all I care.”

“Ms. Wynanski, please–”

“I don’t have a number for him, but I can tell you where he lives. Not saying he’ll be there, though,” she paused. “Likes to frequent this one house full of his ‘friends’ when he’s not at home moping.”

Tim felt his entire body relax, shutting his eyes as he took a deep breath. “That will be very helpful. Thank you, Ms. Wynanski. Do you have the address for the other house?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t go in there like you’re looking for him, though. They’ll all run off.”

“I can handle it. Thank you, Ms Wynanski.”

After confirming that the address Tracy had matched the one they had on file, and wrote down the other address, he called Matthews, who decided to check on Xavier at the hospital.

“He’s stable. He’ll probably stay here for a couple of days,” his partner said through the phone.

“Alright. I’ve got a lead on one of his associates. It’s fucking Morrissey, John,” Tim chuckled.

“You’re shitting me. Employee at the liquor store said Xavier looked like he walked out of the Satanic Temple so I guess I’m not too surprised.”

Tim rolled his eyes and snorted, making one last note on Howard’s file. “I’m gonna head out and look for him. Could you go to one of these addresses for me?”

“Sure thing, Tim. Don’t get trapped in some ritual sacrifice.”

“Fuck off,” Tim laughed.

Tim decided to go to the second house full of Shane’s “friends”. He figured it was more likely that he was there, and he was right. It looked like it was a gathering of about ten or fifteen other kids around Shane’s age, all dressed in similar clothing.

The house was filled with smoke and had music playing, so he decided it was better if he stayed in his car until Shane came outside. He didn’t want to embarrass the kid.

It didn’t take too long, Shane stumbling out of the house and laughing loudly. Tim turned the key, the engine for his Caprice coming to life. Shane startled and looked over, eyes locking with Tim’s behind the wheel.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Shane barked, stomping over to the passenger window and glaring at the older man.

“I need your help,” Tim said softly.

Shane rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you fucking stalk me here? You can’t be here– They can’t see me with you.”

“Then get in. They won’t know.” Tim looked up at him, eyes softening when he saw the clear hurt on Shane’s face. He wasn’t very angry by the looks of it. Just upset.

Shane scoffed, looked back at the house, and raised his arms in defeat. “Fine,” he grumbled, opening the passenger side door and sitting down.

“Seatbelt.”

“Eat me, old man,” Shane rolled his eyes. He lifted a leg and rested his chunky boot on the car’s dashboard. 

Tim sighed heavily and didn’t argue. He’ll just clean his car later. “You wanna talk at the station or at my apartment?”

Shane bit his lip, picking at a rip in his jeans and making it worse. “I don’t wanna go to the station.”

“Figured as much,” Tim exhaled, looking behind the car for any oncoming traffic and pulling out of the neighborhood towards his apartment.

Shane stared at Tim’s arms underneath the tight white dress shirt, the fabric pulling at the thick muscle. He wondered what Tim looked like on top of him, those strong arms pinning him to a mattress and–

“You know a Howard Xavier, right?” Tim asked, eyes squinting at the file in his hands. 

The two of them were seated at the table in Tim’s dining room, the surface in front of them covered in documents and files. 

“Yeah, that’s X,” Shane mumbled, picking at his nails so he could hide the pink in his cheeks.

Tim raised a brow but didn’t comment, nodding. “Do you know if he had any enemies, Shane?” He asked, digging his glasses out of his front pocket and putting them on. “That’s better,” he said to himself, the text on the files clearing up.

Shane blinked a couple times, the sight of Tim wearing glasses doing more for him than he thought possible. His breathing picked up a little, heart pounding in his chest when Tim made eye contact with him, waiting for Shane to answer. “U-um, I don’t think so? X was always pretty chill,” he mumbled.

Tim nodded and took notes on a sticky pad. Tim’s phone started ringing, making the older man get up and answer it. “Rockford,” he grunted into the receiver.

Shane stayed seated and kept to himself, listening to the one sided conversation.

“You’re shitting me. He did? Thanks, John. Yeah. You too. Have a good night.”

Tim exhaled and hung up the phone, clicking his pen. “Good news,” he smiled, taking his seat at the table across from Shane. “Xavier woke up and described the shooter. My partner found him.”

Shane nodded, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table. “‘S good,” he mumbled.

Tim watched Shane’s face closely, eyes trailing over the piercings and the messy hair. “I’m sorry I took you away from your party,” he said softly.

“‘S okay. Don’t like those guys very much,” Shane shrugged. Now that he was here, he was having a hard time not curling in on himself again. He couldn’t even look Tim in the eye without thinking about what his lips felt and tasted like.

Tim furrowed his brows. “Why do you hang out with them, then?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to pry, but it was sort of his job to find information. Shane wasn’t a job, though. He was much more than that.

Shane sighed and angrily looked at Tim for a second before looking away again. “Why do you care?”

Tim bit his lip, fiddling with his tie. “You really wanna know, kid?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” he rolled his eyes.

“Because I see a lot of myself in you, Shane,” Tim admitted gently, crossing one leg over the other.

Shane furrowed his brows and looked at Tim incredulously.

“It’s true. Would you believe me if I said I got arrested? Was about your age, too.” Tim chuckled as he remembered what caused his arrest.

A small smile grew on Shane’s face. “What’d you do?”

“Public Indecency.”

Shane’s eyes grew three times in size. “Did you get caught having sex? Were you streaking?” He giggled, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Uh, well,” Tim chuckled. “I was in my car at the time and having sex.”

Shane laughed, face as red as a tomato. His thoughts flooded with images of what Tim having sex looked like. What sort of faces did he make? What kind of sounds did he make? Was he more dominant or submissive?

“Were you going down on her or…?”

“Him,” Tim answered easily. “And no, we were uh… I was found on top of him.”

Shane froze, eyes wide. He looked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked back at Tim briefly before settling his eyes on Tim’s tie. “You’re…?” He asked shakily. 

“Yeah, kid,” Tim chuckled. Shane looked terrified and it broke Tim’s heart. “I said I was here for you if you needed me. I still am.”

Shane squeezed his eyes shut and let out a heavy, shaky breath. He rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans and looked at Tim with wet, glossy eyes. “I don’t– I don’t understand,” he shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t seem–”

“Not every gay person is really flamboyant, Shane.”

Shane blushed in embarrassment. “Why did you turn away from me, then? Why didn’t you kiss me back?” He frowned, voice shaky and hurt.

Tim’s eyes rounded, his whole face becoming softer. “I wanted to,” he admitted, looking down at Shane’s ring-clad hands. “But it wasn’t fair to you. I didn’t… I didn’t want to take advantage of you like that.”

“Take advantage–! I kissed you!” Shane roared.

“You were vulnerable and confused. And,” Tim gulped. “And I’m a lot older than you, it’s… It’s not appropriate.” He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly at how much it hurt to say out loud.

“Tim,” Shane whimpered, biting his lip. He felt a thick lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation right now. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. It felt like he was having an out of body experience. “I don’t care about that, I’m– I’m more worried about you being a cop than being older than me. I’m an adult,” he scoffed, his bottom lip trembling.

Tim couldn’t hold in the chuckle that bubbled out of him. “I know you are. I just don’t– I don’t know how this could continue–”

“Please, shut up,” Shane begged, getting out of his chair and making his way over to Tim. He looked down at the older man, face burning, and slowly crawled into Tim’s lap, wrapping his arms around Tim’s neck. “I don’t wanna talk anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t wanna think anymore. Please.”

Tim’s hands instinctively found their place on Shane’s hips. His eyes moved from Shane’s to the younger man’s lips, then back up. “Are you sure?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumbs into Shane’s hip bones.

“No,” Shane mumbled. “Well, yes, but… No.”

Tim raised a brow and smirked. “How about we take things slow.”

Shane nodded, biting his lip. “Okay.”

Tim smiled and softly connected their lips, caressing Shane’s head, thumb rubbing at his jaw. Shane whimpered quietly as he tentatively kissed back. His lips trembled against Tim’s, soft huffs of air expelling out from between them. He’d kissed before but this was so… different. The feeling of Tim’s facial hair against his lips was weird. Good, but weird. 

Shane experimentally ran his tongue along Tim’s bottom lip. Tim took the hint and softly caressed Shane’s tongue with his own, making the younger man gasp into his mouth. Tim squeezed Shane’s narrow hips, trying to ground him, and sighed into the kiss. It built a little over time, but eventually, they found a rhythm. The soft clinking of metal from Shane’s earrings filled the otherwise silent apartment. They learned each other over the course of their kissing. Tim learned that Shane liked to nibble and bite, and Shane learned that Tim liked to encompass him entirely, like he could devour Shane’s mouth if given the chance.

When Tim pulled away for some much needed air, Shane whined in protest, his face leaning toward Tim’s to keep going. “Slow your roll, kid,” Tim chuckled, pressing his forehead to Shane’s and panting quietly. Shane blushed, and chewed his swollen bottom lip while he waited. “C’mere,” Tim grunted, tugging Shane’s leather duster off his shoulders. Shane went along with it, pulling his arms free before the sound of squeaky leather fell into a heap on the floor. 

Large hands ran over Shane’s hips and waist, but never ventured lower. Shane shivered when Tim’s blunt nails lightly scratched at the exposed skin of his lower back as his t-shirt rode up. Shane’s cock twitched in interest, making him blush high on his cheeks.

“‘s okay, sweetheart,” Tim hummed. He rolled his hips a little, his own half-hard cock rubbing against Shane’s.

Shane’s eyes grew twice their size at the feeling and looked down at the bulge in Tim’s slacks. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away. His imagination was a lot easier to handle than the real thing pressing into his inner thigh. 

Tim furrowed his brows in concern and rubbed Shane’s skin underneath his t-shirt comfortingly. “What are you thinking about?” He asked softly.

Shane inhaled heavily, and slowly let out a deep breath before turning his head back toward Tim. He opened his eyes, but didn’t make contact. “Just… weird. Feeling your…”

Tim hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you want to stop?”

Shane shook his head, eyes still burning holes into Tim’s slowly rising and falling tummy. 

“Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“N-no, I don’t want to stop,” Shane whispered.

“Do you want to lie down? There’s no expectation for anything,” Tim said, sitting up a little more in the dining room chair. 

The stretch in Shane’s thighs suddenly overtook any doubts he had, making him shakily get up from Tim’s lap. He was used to having someone sit on his lap like that and being in that position made his stomach hurt.

Tim laced his fingers through Shane’s and gently guided him to his bedroom. He kept the lights low and rubbed his thumb over Shane’s knuckles. “You okay?”

Shane stared at Tim’s bed and swallowed a lump in his throat. “Y-yeah,” he croaked.

Tim chewed on his lip in thought and let go of Shane’s smaller hand. He gave Shane some space as he took off his glasses and removed the tie he was wearing. He toed off his dress shoes and put them in his closet. When he turned around after unbuttoning his dress shirt, Shane was sitting on his bed, hands curled up into fists on his ripped jean-covered thighs.

Tim sighed softly and sat next to him on the bed. “What’s goin’ through that pretty head of yours?” He asked, tugging on pieces of Shane’s hair that were sticking straight out.

Shane shut his eyes and took another deep breath. “I’m just… I’m having a hard time being… like, the female part.” He curled in on himself, his shoulders hiding his ears.

Tim blinked a couple times. “Sweetheart, we’re both men.”

“I-I know that! I just,” he swallowed a lump in his throat. “Usually, I’m in your position. Taking charge.”

“I see,” Tim sighed, getting more comfortable and turning toward him. Shane did the same, but didn’t make eye contact with him. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

Shane blushed, those big brown eyes of his lifting up to meet Tim’s. 

“Alright, firstly, who told you there were ‘male’ and ‘female’ roles?” Tim raised a brow.

“W-well, uh–”

“It’s alright, I already know who. Lesson number one,” Tim smiled reassuringly. “Just because you’re sitting on my lap, letting me ‘take charge’, doesn’t mean you’re weak, honey.”

Shane gulped and nodded, taking all of this in. Tim felt like a professor. Probably the first one Shane would ever listen to.

“And women aren’t weak, so get that out of your head, too.”

Shane let out a heavy breath. This was a lot to take in.

“Did you feel good?” Tim asked, picking up one of Shane’s hands and rubbing his thumb over the scabbed knuckles. When Shane nodded jerkily, Tim grinned, his chest feeling warm at the admission. “That’s all that matters. Think of it this way,” he paused. Shane hung onto every word. “Everything we do? It’s with your say-so. You’re driving the car here.”

Shane blinked as he thought about it. He could work with that. “Oh,” he said quietly.

“You want me to make you feel good again?” Tim smiled, eyes crinkling in the corners. Shane’s heart thundered at the sight.

“Y-yes.”

“Go ahead and lay back for me, alright?”

Shane nodded and got comfy, head cradled by Tim’s fluffy pillows. His entire body was buzzing and tense. He kept his eyes on Tim’s popcorn ceiling, the sounds of Tim’s belt jingling filling the room. When the bed dipped with Tim’s weight, Shane’s heart stuttered a little. One of Tim’s big hands cupped his cheek and gently turned his face so he could look at Tim again. Shane wasn’t expecting the softness in Tim’s features, or the heat in his eyes.

Tim rubbed Shane’s cheek with his thumb. “We don’t have to go far tonight. There’s no rush.”

Shane nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

This time, when their lips connected, Shane eased into it a lot sooner, kissing the older man with renewed fervor. He sighed into it, the warmth radiating off of Tim being an endless source of comfort. He gripped onto Tim’s opened dress shirt and tugged it down his shoulders. Tim released Shane’s lips briefly while he shrugged the shirt off and tossed it on the floor. Shane moaned weakly when Tim surged forward and sucked his bottom lip between his own.

Shane’s head was fuzzy, all the blood there rushing down between his legs. He gasped when Tim rolled him over and hovered over him, pressing his hips between Shane’s thighs. Tim took his time with him, kissing him languidly while he unbuckled Shane’s jeans.

“Can I touch you?” Tim breathed between kisses.

Shane nodded quickly, holding the sides of Tim’s head and tangling his fingers in the short, thick locks of Tim’s hair. Tim smiled against the younger man’s lips and pulled Shane’s baggy, ripped jeans off. Shane toed off his own socks before wrapping his legs around Tim’s thick waist. Tim was so much larger than Shane was and it made his head spin.

Tim’s hands played with the bottom of Shane’s t-shirt and slowly lifted it up, bunching under his armpits. He pulled away to look at Shane’s torso and grinned when he saw the small tattoos there. Both hands holding Shane’s sides, he gently rubbed at the younger man’s nipples, making Shane gasp. Goosebumps and flushed skin covered his entire body in seconds, making Shane lightly smack Tim’s shoulder. Tim laughed lightly and softly kissed his way down Shane’s torso until he was eye level with the tent in the younger man’s boxers.

Shane blushed hard, eyes wide. “W-what are you doing?”

Tim raised a brow and tilted his head slightly, tugging on the elastic of Shane’s boxers. “Said I’d make you feel good, sweetheart.”

Shane blinked. “B-but isn’t that…”

“There are no roles. But if you don’t want me to, then–”

“I do!” Shane smacked his hand over his own mouth and shut his eyes, hoping the bed would swallow him whole. 

A wolfish smirk crossed Tim’s features as he lowered his head, kissing along Shane’s pelvis. Shane whimpered at the feeling of Tim’s facial hair across his skin, his body shuddering. “Breathe, sweetheart,” Tim whispered, shutting his eyes to suck gently at Shane’s hip and leaving a mark. 

Shane forced himself to take a deep breath, shutting his eyes to center himself. When he opened his eyes, Tim quirked a brow up at him as he tugged on Shane’s boxers again. Shane nodded his consent and almost groaned at the cool air in the apartment hitting his throbbing cock. Tim hummed appreciatively and didn’t waste a second, kissing the tip, then making his way down the shaft.

Shane moaned openly gripping the sheets of the bed into tight fists. “T-Tim, what–”

“Shh…” Tim whispered, engulfing the head of Shane’s cock in his mouth. He moaned at the taste and watched Shane’s face as he slowly bobbed his head up and down. Shane’s eyes rolled back and arched his back off the bed. 

Shane felt his cheeks throb and the blood rushing in his ears, doing everything in his power to keep his hips down. When his hips bucked up on their own, he moaned weakly, looking at Tim’s face to make sure he didn’t choke him. What he found instead made his cock twitch.

This was one of Tim’s favorite things to do. Making his partner feel good with his mouth was something he always got pleasure out of and Shane was no different. In fact, this was probably one of the more rewarding times, because this was the first time a man had done this for him. He felt good knowing he got to be the first, and a little possessive side of him liked the idea even more.

Eyes shut, Tim moaned around Shane’s length, losing himself in it. He gripped Shane’s hips and rubbed the bones there to soothe him. Shane’s chest rose and fell quickly as he watched. He felt a little embarrassed to admit that this was probably the best head he’d ever received.

Tim opened his eyes, keeping an eye on any changes in Shane’s face. 

Shane felt his balls drawing up, making him moan weakly. “I-I’m gonna–” He cut himself off, gripping the sheets tighter. Tim doubled his efforts, bobbing his head a little faster. “Oh, fuck,” Shane whined, his thighs trembling on either side of Tim’s head.

Tim moved his hands up Shane’s torso and rubbed at the younger man’s nipples again, urging him on.

“W-wait, wait–” Shane gasped, smacking his hand against Tim’s shoulder as the pressure built and built. Tim watched closely and if he could, he’d grin to himself as he watched Shane’s eyes roll back. Shane’s entire body stilled and he came hard, thick ropes of cum shooting down Tim’s throat. Shane’s moans went up three octaves as he shook with pleasure, his toes curling.

Tim swallowed everything and slowly, gently, raised his head. He licked Shane clean, kissing back up his torso. Once he was hovering over Shane again, Tim smiled at the blissed out expression on his face. He chuckled lightly and kissed Shane’s cheek.

“Still with me?”

Shane shivered at the gravelly tone of Tim’s voice. It must be an octave or two lower than normal given what he’d just done. He slowly blinked his eyes open and didn’t have the energy to hold back the smile when he saw Tim’s handsome face. “Yeah, ‘m here,” he mumbled, his body feeling heavy and sated.

“Good. You should get some rest, sweetheart.” Tim’s laugh rumbled in his chest.

Shane pouted, big brown eyes glazed over, but determined. “What about you?”

“I’ll be okay. Get some rest,” Tim said, kissing Shane’s forehead. “Can I take your shirt off?” He asked, pulling the material down from where it was bunched up under his armpits.

Shane nodded, watching in awe as Tim took care of him. It was at this moment that Shane realized Tim was completely serious with him. He wouldn’t make fun of him, or use him. Shane felt tears prickling behind his eyes, but quickly blinked them away.

“Be right back, okay? Gonna get you some water,” Tim grunted quietly, crawling off the bed. Shane didn’t have the energy to argue, and just watched Tim’s broad back leave the bedroom.

When Tim returned with the glass of water, he was greeted with the sight of Shane’s sleeping form. He smiled at him, and set the water on the nightstand closest to Shane. 

He got himself undressed, making sure to be careful of his own half-hard cock. Once he was down to his boxer briefs, he crawled into bed behind Shane and held the younger man close. The day caught up with him as he laid there, eyes trailing over the messy curls and multiple piercings in Shane’s ears.

He drifted off quickly, and had a dreamless sleep.

Twitch. Twitch.

Shane groaned in his sleep.

What was that?

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he adjusted to the light. He tried to turn and feel what was poking against his back, but he was held firmly in place by… Were those arms?

Shane’s eyes snapped open as the memories from the night before came flooding back. His cheeks burned as he looked down and saw the strong, very male, hands holding him close to a broad chest. Tim huffed in his sleep, making Shane smile shyly. He couldn’t deny it, being held by Tim felt really good. It was so warm.

He tried rotating in Tim’s arms, silently exhaling in relief when he didn’t seem to wake the older man. He felt the twitching again and looked down between their bodies.

Oh.

Shane smiled at the sight of Tim’s morning wood through his boxer briefs. He looked back up at Tim’s sleeping face and decided against doing anything until he’d woken up. For now, he ran his fingers through the thin layer of chest hair on Tim’s skin. It seemed obvious when he thought about it, but it was so different than when he was with a woman. He didn’t feel like he had to hide with Tim. Tim wouldn’t judge him.

Tim made him feel safe. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

Shane startled and looked up, Tim’s soft smirk and sleepy eyes greeting him. He shook his head in lieu of an answer.

When Tim grumbled in response, it reminded Shane of a bear. 

“Do you want… You need help with that?” Shane asked timidly, pointing between their bodies. Their legs were tangled together and they were touching everywhere. The proximity and the feeling of warmth radiating from between Tim’s legs had Shane throbbing in no time.

Tim snorted and leaned forward, kissing Shane sleepily. Shane moaned into it, grinding his own cock against Tim’s. Tim pulled back and panted a little against Shane’s lips.

“We don’t have to. I’ll be okay–”

Shane cut him off by gripping Tim’s ass and squeezing. When Tim made a small noise of surprise, Shane smirked, attempting to pull Tim onto his own lap. “I want to,” he said, voice determined, but shaky. “I want… I wanna know what it feels like. I have to make sure.”

Tim blinked at him, a little shocked by the sudden change in Shane’s behavior. One of his legs was draped over Shane’s waist as he cupped the younger man’s face. Shane seemed to melt at the gesture, making Tim smirk. “Are you sure?” He asked, brows pinched in concern. He didn’t want Shane to rush into anything. 

“Yes,” Shane nodded.

There was more conviction in that one word than a lot of things Shane had ever said to him, so Tim smiled softly at him. He held onto Shane’s thighs and rolled them over so he was hovering over Shane again, and rubbed the smooth skin comfortingly. “Alright. Lube and condoms are in the top drawer,” he nodded his head toward the nightstand. 

With pink cheeks and a determined expression on his face, Shane reached over and dug out the necessary equipment. Everything really settled in his gut when he was holding everything. This was really going to happen. This wasn’t some dream he’d come up with while he was alone in his bedroom, looking at the cracks and fist-sized holes in his walls.

“C’mere,” Tim grunted, gently taking the items from him and holding Shane’s hip. “Gotta get you prepared, okay? Don’t want it to hurt for you.”

Shane nodded appreciatively and watched as Tim discarded his own underwear, kneeling on the bed between Shane’s thighs. He looked the older man over, eyes raking over the messy, gray curls and pillow creases on Tim’s cheeks. His eyes traveled down over the broad shoulders and chest, and down to the swell of Tim’s stomach. That was probably one of Shane’s favorite parts. His eyes landed on the thick cock between muscled thighs and Shane bit his lip. He had to remind himself not to pinch his arm, because this was real. 

Tim carefully got the condom secured around his cock and drizzled some lube on his fingers. “You ready?” He smiled down at Shane, chest warm at the sight of him. Shane nodded, smiling shyly up at him.

Tim curled his fingers around Shane’s cock and pumped slowly. Shane sighed and shut his eyes, lips parting. Tim couldn’t help himself and surged forward, kissing the younger man deeply. He kept his hand on him, keeping up a decent pace as he teased a finger against Shane’s hole.

Shane’s body jerked at the intrusion, making Tim soothe him gently. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle.”

Shane let out a weak noise and nodded, holding on tight to Tim’s shoulders. He spread his legs a little more and wrapped them around Tim’s waist. 

The first press of one of Tim’s thick fingers inside him already had Shane seeing stars. He panted as he looked down between his legs, trying to see what was happening. Tim cupped his face and forced him to look there instead. “Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he smiled.

Shane bit his lip and nodded, but gasped soon after as a second finger joined the first. His face twisted into an almost pained expression. Tim watched closely, eyes locked onto him. Tim pumped his fingers in a steady rhythm, searching for that sweet spot inside him. Shane was panting heavily, eyes glossed over, but staying on Tim’s face.

When Shane rolled his eyes back and he gasped, Tim knew he found it. Shane moaned, his cock twitching violently against his lower tummy. “H-hurry up, old man,” he groaned, toes curling on either side of Tim’s hips. “P-please,” he breathed.

Tim snorted, but didn’t argue, removing his fingers gently. Shane groaned at the loss and braced himself for the intrusion, eyes squeezed shut.

“Sweetheart, I need you to breathe first.” Tim leaned over him and kissed him tenderly. He watched as Shane let out one last deep breath and nodded up at him. “Atta boy,” Tim grinned.

Shane scoffed and rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. As Tim lined himself up, Shane’s heart thundered in his chest, watching the focus on Tim’s face mellow out. He had that same facial expression whenever he was interrogating Shane back at the station, or reading through files, or taking notes. But here, with Shane, he seemed to deflate a little. He relaxed. 

The first push in knocked the wind out of Shane. He moaned, digging his nails into Tim’s broad shoulders. Tim hid his face in Shane’s neck and kissed along the younger man’s sleep-soft skin. “Doin’ so good, sweetheart,” he breathed, hips slowly pushing forward.

Shane trembled in Tim’s arms until Tim’s hips were flush against him. Time stopped as Tim settled, letting Shane adjust. Shane had to blink a few times, swallowing around a lump in his throat. All thought left Shane’s head and the only thing left was the sweet stretch of Tim’s cock inside him. Every wall he’d built up was successfully crumbling at his trembling form. 

Tim petted Shane’s sweaty hair out of his face, kissing him on every available patch of skin he could find.

“M-move,” Shane panted, eyes half lidded and glazed over. “Please.”

So Tim did.

He built up a slow, steady rhythm. Before either of them knew it, their bodies rocked together in perfect harmony. Tim hugged Shane closer, his hips being the driving force while his arms kept Shane grounded.

The sounds leaving Shane’s mouth were so unfamiliar to his own ears, he couldn’t even tell where he was for a moment. The only thing he could feel or think about was the stretch of Tim’s cock, Tim’s heavy breathing against his neck, and Tim’s big hands holding his hips. It was all Tim, Tim, Tim.

He didn’t even feel the tear slowly falling down the side of his face until Tim gently wiped it away. He nearly sobbed when Tim kissed him, chest hitching with every powerful thrust. 

Tim grunted every time Shane clenched around him. He was so tight, which he expected, but he was having a hard time keeping a steady rhythm. He was still tired and his body was trying to catch up. He watched the younger man’s face twist in pleasure and sped up a little, moaning down at him.

Shane wailed, one fist curling up tight and weakly hitting against Tim’s chest. “I-I’m close,” he panted, his cock dripping pre-cum onto his stomach. “T-Tim, I’m–”

“‘s okay, I’m here,” Tim groaned, curling his fingers around the younger man’s cock. He started pumping his fist in time with his thrusts, eyes glued to Shane’s face.

Shane nodded furiously, scratching his nails down Tim’s chest. Not long after that, his entire body shook like a leaf and he clenched hard around Tim’s cock, coming in waves. He moaned out loud, his back arching off the bed, and gasping for air.

Tim’s own eyes rolled back as Shane squeezed around him. Shane’s face was turned into the pillow as he breathed heavily, coming down from such a high peak. Tim slowed down some, letting Shane have a moment.

When Shane made eye contact with him again, Tim’s heart stopped. He didn’t think Shane had looked more beautiful than he had right in that moment. His hair was a mess, his face was blotchy and red, there were tear tracks down his cheeks, and his lips were swollen from all the biting. Tim was pulled out of the fantasy when Shane clenched around him again, making a moan bubble out of him.

“C’mon, old man,” Shane smirked, voice tired.

Tim huffed a laugh and hugged Shane close, hips snapping quicker now. Chasing his own release, he hid his face in Shane’s neck, sucking a dark mark against the younger man’s collarbone.

In just a few short, quick thrusts, Tim was following Shane over that ledge with a deep groan, emptying inside the condom.

Shane exhaled deeply, arms wrapped around him. Then, he giggled quietly. He was elated, he was on cloud nine.

Tim lifted his head, hair sticking up every which way. He raised a brow at the younger man and smirked. “You alright?” He chuckled.

Shane nodded, a wide grin on his face. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good,” Tim grunted, slowly moving out from between Shane’s legs to dispose of the condom. He crawled back into bed and cuddled close, kissing Shane lazily. They both sighed into it. Eventually, they had to come up for air, and when they did, Tim breathed, “You hungry? I’m hungry.”

“God, yes. I’m fucking starving,” Shane groaned.

Tim laughed and rolled his eyes and pressed a light kiss to Shane’s lips. “You like pancakes? I make some really good pancakes.”

Shane giggled, feeling lighter than he had in years.

[sorrelchestnut]

I think everything about Astarion is perfectly explained by the fact that he has siblings.

I mean, yes, centuries of torment and trauma, grasping at power to make himself feel safe, blah blah blah: that part was immediately obvious all the way back in EA. But he's also genuinely selfish and petty and spiteful, seeming to delight in people's miseries and sulk at their joys, in a way that doesn't come off as "traumatized sadboi" so much as "spiteful bitch." Which I enjoy tremendously as a character, don't get me wrong, but like. He does cackle in joy when you accidentally (or "accidentally") send that poor gnome flying into oblivion. He is not a nice person.

But! The second you learn that he has siblings, everything makes sense! He wasn't tragically wandering the halls of a big Evil Gothic Mansion alone with his master and tormentor; he was locked in a fucking dormitory with six other spawn of indeterminate age who are encouraged to compete and sabotage each other for Cazador's favor. (There were fucking bunk beds, y'all. Just imagine.) I spent years going to sleep-away camp for the summers and usually came back meaner and that was with dozens of counselors attempting to teach us the value of friendship; of fucking course Astarion is the most miserable, spiteful little bastard (un)alive.

Some of it is the very specific trope they used to write him: he's the very model of a regency rake, not the "dark powerful reformable bad boy" kind but the drawling, pissant little dandy fortune hunter, who ingratiates himself with the dowagers by way of his cutting tongue and seduces young ladies of means to live off their dowry. But the rest of it is very definitely the two centuries of social reinforcement by his equally miserable and hateful siblings. He's every mean girl from every teen movie who got that way by climbing to the top of the pack, allergic to sympathy and sincerity because any hint of it has been consistently mocked and punished and inflicting that mindset on others in turn.

As usual none of it actually excuses his bad behavior, blah blah blah I'm not interesting in legislating the crimes of fictional men, but it is excellent character writing. None of what I learned about him later ever contradicted any of my first impressions, only informed and enhanced. And it says a lot that he does grow so much more sympathetic and sincere by the end (if that's the example you set) because it really reinforces just how much he's influenced by his social circle. When he's surrounded by a pack of perpetually-adolescent squabbling murderchildren, he's... habitually unkind, let's just say. When he's away from that environment and rewarded with kindness and validation for behaving like a moderately functional adult, he finally gets a chance to prove that he just might actually be one.

[heartstringsduet]

Favorite Fandom moments (this got way too long who is surprised) Thanks for tagging me: @tellmegoodbye @nisbanisba @reyesstrand

@welcometololaland @rmd-writes

@she-walked-away @everlastingday @strandnreyes

1. I binged season 1-3 in December 2022 by myself. A fun fact about me, i HATE procedurals. Usually I can manage a few episodes and enjoy them and then I think the formula of episodic rescues/crime solving is too boring. I thought I could maybe stay for the hot gay dudes I saw on my dash. But I fell in love with so much more than that. I rarely have shows with ensamble casts where I genuinely really like all characters. Michelle is the only exception. Goddamn that woman should only play faeries for the rest of her life. And weirdly, something I appreciate is watching these three seasons all by myself. It allowed me to really take the episodes in without any outside opinions or controversies or even over-hyping through others. I loved the show all by myself. And though a part of me wishes I would have found it earlier, I find a lot of joy in having these three seasons locked deep in my own heart, just for me.

2. Okay after all that too long blabbering, of COURSE I have to say the friends I made. Friendship has always been my biggest source of joy. Always. And I'm so blessed to have so many friends in my life, and more blessed to add people on my dash to them. If we text sometimes/often/daily or I just like your personal posts, know that I really care for what you put out there. You all matter to me, and I mean that.

3. Meeting some of you peeps IRL. And hoping to expand the list 💓

4. Sending out Holiday cards. Truly, I love doing it so much, even if the production last year was stressful I hope this year people will still be here and be interested in getting my lil card. And ofc I loved the ones I got back.

5. How creative and wonderful this fandom is. We are quite smol, but look at the big things we create. 2022 was the toughest year of my life, and a lot of what followed was an ebb and flow mentally, but one thing thatr eally helped me was to be more creative. And I thank every one of you who has left comments or sweet tags or created something themselves that keeps me motivated.

6. The Hello! Rafa/Ronen photoshoot . Still lives in my head rent-free.

7. Having people beta-read my humble writing. It helps me a lot! Just like reading fics by people whose writing I admire (y'all basically).

8. Fandom events. Like Gotcha charity, but also the Holiday exchanges and the watch parties and the server and so many little things in the cosmos of this fandom.

9. Even the disagreements. Idk. Very family dynamic to me and I don't mean to downplay how marginalized people are affected by some of it. But you tell me you hate someone's outfit and I will lovingly side-eye you like a cousin. It kind of is necessary to the eco system of fandom to not all be harmonious.

10. Most of all, how welcoming this fandom was from the very beginning. I try to be part of that. If I ever annoy you with engaging with personal posts, that's why. I want you to feel heard.

OPEN TAG (please use it if you want to participate and tag me back so I see!)

@herefortarlos @tellmegoodbye @paperstorm @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @lightningboltreader @reasonandfaithinharmony

@alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk

@rangersoup @freneticfloetry @literateowl @firstprince-history-huh

@neversleepuntilfive @certifiedflower @ironheartwriter @henrygrass

@never-blooms @whatsintheboxmh @girlsnightout304 @bonheur-cafe

@lutavero @guardian-angle22 @toomanycupsoftea @actual-sleeping-beauty

@butchreyes @goodways @thisbuildinghasfeelings @ladytessa74 @lemonlyman-dotcom

@birdclowns @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @ameriicansrequiems @ambiguouspenny

@liminalmemories21 @louis-ii-reyes-strand @chicgeekgirl89 @fitzherbertssmolder

[jacktheeldergod2]

Poll time y'all

As part of a multidimensional alternative rehabilitation program you were randomly selected to be the master of an otherworldly criminal for an unspecified amount of time,your options being:

The eldest vampire of a parallel earth long lost to ruin,a girl from the very first batches of homo sapiens evolution crafted. Speaks only her tribe's language but has a little translator pendant to understand you. Her crimes were described as pestilence spreading for eons. Wants to hunt constantly. Plays single player videogames and exercises. Does little to nothing else. Immune to the sun and holy symbols,claims she was allergic to garlic since garlic was a thing. Wants to sleep hugging someone,the more people the merrier to her

Alecorax the one who knows. a dragon of purple and orange coloration the size of a cruise ship. Knows more than you can comprehend and yields magic so skillfully that he slayed the gods of his realm all by himself in a fight that took 37852 years and 29 days. His crimes are deicide and experimentation on people. The only reason he won't kill you is cause he was allowed to not have to share any of his knowledge horde with you. Will ignore you half the time.

A salamander made of broken obsidian. Consumes all the heat around it slowly but surely. Its crimes are going to the core of multiple planets and over the eons freezing them in a quest to be the last alive in its world. Always complains about how there are more dimensions with more even more planets it has to kill now. Is is constantly snuffing out heat sources.

Irene the daughter of air. A siren that controlled the minds of billions of civilizations with her music and committed the biggest count of tax evasion in the known multiverse. Can stop your anxiety or bring you exquisite sleep with a mere whistle. If you look at her purple scales long enough it may take hours or days for you to snap out of your trance. Will either steal your money or everyone elses,your choice. Refers to Freddie Mercury and robopup as fellow sirens. Can hear your thoughts. Heard that insult you thought of and laughed at you

Though-shall-not-bow-to-evil. An angel that killed an unspecified amount of innocents by accident and thus fell. Has 28 wings and 4 faces,covered in armor that conceals their perfectly smooth,spotless shining form. Deeply regretful and cries rose water almost every time they remember their sin. will do anything you ask even if it kills them. Will follow into the next life if you reincarnate,won't stop following you until you are in a comfortable afterlife

Dilar the dealer. A fey with a bug like form hidden under their suit,hat and stained glass mask. They will kill you if you try to touch their mask or undo their clothes. Their crimes were simply described as fraud. Will try to get you to make deals with them. Proceed with them at your own risk

Cornelius the last court jester of the court of witchcraft. No one knows how this one man who was once a mere eunuch guard that watched over a warlord's harem of slaves became the most trusted man in the court of witchcraft nor how he killed them all. He doesn't have to disclose this information to you. His crimes are mass murder as well as the theft and hiding of all the magic items of the court and its participants. Jokes about everything that is brought to his attention

Slorvenovia the traitorous queen. A giant type of bee or wasp,you can't really tell. As big as the average plane. Ate all of her kind on her world and devoured her own genitals as to never bear spawn again. Claims she did it so she could be the only one as beautiful as her race is. Can turn to a humanoid form,a 2 meters tall woman with blond here and hazel eyes. Will beat the shit out of you if you demand honey from her and will side eye you if you consume any honey

The presence. An incorporeal invisible being with only the ones it desires feeling its presence. Can do any menial task,housework,your job and more,always leaving notes ridiculing the job it did,calling it too easy. Will do tasks you didn't tell it to and mock you for not remembering to tell it to do them. Its crimes are described as sightseeing

The weather beetle. a big humanoid machine made of gold,hunched over and with 8 arms helping it walk in an animalistic manner,fully composed of glass and gold. Many machines detecting,analyzing and controlling the weather lie upon it's back. Jolly and curious. Its crimes are creating weather phenomena that almost killed all the lifeforms on its world in a week. It's confused as it thinks that the weather is something whose damages would always be excused and doesn't understand why it was punished

Spade the knight of every forest. A σπουργίτι(type of small bird) with a needle made out of porcupine quill he uses as a sword. Speaks of his glorious queen often,seems deeply in love with her although he denies it, rambling about how dishonorable it would be to pine over the king's wife. Talks in a deep boastful voice,sings without a semblance of rhythm. Asks to kill specific people,not saying why. Similar murders landed him in this program. Gathers lost coins to buy fig tarts

Sfera the haunted pistol. A demon locked in an old colt revolver. Speaks to you in your head. Weathered with little of her hilt painted white anymore. Starts laughing proudly when her crimes are mentioned,which were described as "crimes of war". Always asks to be repainted and polished,gets all mushy when these requests are fulfilled. Always suggests vile actions and brutal solutions to you. While you own her no bullet will touch you and she'll never run out of lead for you to shoot. Demands to listen to guns and roses,queen and nirvana in the morning,always demands you read old myths to her before bed,often asking for the works of Homer

The godmother. A 9 foot tall ethereal undead with pale skin and pure white glazed over eyes. She's soft spoken but starts yelling at you if you don't follow her wishes. Her crimes were described as child abuse,child endangerment and use of chemical weapons as discipline methods. Tries to lead your behavior in any way she can. Not allowed to hurt you or disobey your wishes at all. This is for your own safety

@1969chevycamaro @whereserpentswalk @everythingismadeofchaos @techiekittie @trashsouppossum @ononpetitecroissant @parsley-and-lesbianism @polkadotsunshine @strange-and-stupid @doyoudreamofwater @dackychansworldofhoshino @dh-ng @decoysender @foxundermoon @frozen-antifreeze @gloriousvermin @kinkshame-puncher-666 @kirkland-brand-witch @leavesswaytoday @bisexual-bat @bellaphomet3 @mmmmmmky @mun-urufu @moonsfavoritedaughter

[goose-duck]

Creepypasta incorrect quotes 🦆

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i know nothing abt anything, this was a request from forever ago, have fun reading these :D

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Nina: better hope you don't lose a finger

Jeff: oh, I've got nine more

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Jane: you don't even have a dick

Jeff: and yet my personality makes up for it

~~~~~~

Jeff: *yelling about leaving*

Toby: at least the trash is very insistent on taking itself out

~~~~~~

Hoodie: Toby's got a test tomorrow, do you know that?

Masky: no?

Hoodie: does he know that..?

Toby: know what?

Hoodie: he doesn't.

~~~~~~

Jeff: *coughing*

EJ: *cooking right beside him* Jeff!!

Jeff: uh oh

~~~~~~

Jeff: anti-cyclonic freak

Toby: excuse me?

~~~~~~

Sally: what the flying fig tree is happening!?

Jane: *gasp*

Nina: *shock*

Jeff: *laughing*

~~~~~~

Masky: wish I had something to throw at him...

Hoodie: you have a phone

Masky: wouldn't wanna break it on his thick skull

~~~~~~

Jeff: anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?

Nina: no?

Jeff: well, they should.

~~~~~~

Toby: there's a big chicken in the fridge. It's in the way of the milk...I think it's a turkey?

EJ: for Thanksgiving, Toby.

Toby: it's still in the way of the milk.

~~~~~~

Ben: this is weird, y'all are weird, I'm gonna go home.

~~~~~~

Jeff: wanna know the most pointless thing I've ever seen?

Masky: you?

Jeff: a sphere.

~~~~~~

Sally: If operator man makes us go outside today I'm gonna cry and my tears will freeze and it'll hurt so I'll cry more...

Ben: yeah, he's the kinda guy to make us play badminton in a hurricane

~~~~~~

Jane: look at my story, do it.

Jeff: why's it so ominous? Why are you being ominous?

Jane: it's like a threat

Jeff: IM NOT A DICKLE

Jane: UR A DICKLE

Jeff: IM NOT

Jeff: I'm no dickpe

Jane: you're no dickpe but you're a dickle

Jeff: dick pee

Jane: dick pickle

~~~~~~

Toby: time flies when you have no idea what's happening

~~~~~~

LJ: I slipped on a pumpkin today...it really caught me off gourd! *Laughing*

Everyone else: *silence*

~~~~~~

Masky: *opens door*

Masky: *looks to his left and sees Toby* oh my god

Masky: *looks to his right and sees hoodie* oh my god

Masky: *closes door*

~~~~~~

Slenderman/operator (whatever he's called idk): I'm a business man. My business? Crime.

~~~~~~

Nina: *drinking pumpkin spice drink*

Jane: pumpkin spice is cinnamon and lies

~~~~~~

Toby: *talking to Masky* I make jokes Hoodie should be in a nursing home, what would you be in? A coffin?

~~~~~~

LJ: what are you looking for? A job? A man? A job, man?

~~~~~~

Toby: I can pull a push door but I can't pull anything else

~~~~~~

Jeff: *acting foolish*

EJ: it must be stupid o'clock

~~~~~~

slenderman: this isn't a democracy here. I'm in charge.

Jeff: I'm deciding to start a revolution against this injustice by doing whatever the hell I want!

Slenderman: you can't just do that.

Jeff: says who?

Slenderman: me.

Jeff: no.

~~~~~~

Sally: seagull, seagull, seagull

Ben: shut up!! I'm trying to sleep!

Sally: SEAGULL, SEAGULL, SEAGULL

Ben: SHUT UP!!!

Sally: SEAHORSE, SEAHORSE, SEAHORSE

Ben: aughhhhh

~~~~~~

Jane: chairs are better than real boys

~~~~~~

Jeff: proni icik

EJ: what?

Jeff: hüñyâ

EJ: okay.

~~~~~~

EJ: my eyes were leaking.

~~~~~~

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Say it with me y'all

'Writing black x-reader and shipping black characters together in order to see black4black relationships represented and black girl characters desirable is always okay!'

Do it for your favorite characters. Make your readers Nigerian, or Hatian, or Jamaican - its literally free. Have them sleep in a bonet, it's legal I promise

Randomly mention the readers hair being coily or kinky! It's not offensive, knock yourself out!!

You! YOU THERE! Do you have a black OC? Would you like one? You can get one! Of any gender I'm being so deadass

They can be as rich and dark and deep as you want. They can be lightskin or brownskin too. Cause they're black.

You don't even need to be black. I know!!!

Really, you don't. I've written characters of all races. Write mixed characters too hell yeah

Writing Black x Black is not a crime. Writing Black! Reader is not selfish or useless. Actually it's a radical act. Hobie would want you to do it. I think he'd think it was dope ngl

[di-n]

Partner in Crime

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: One of the things between you and your dream career as an agent is Javier Peña.

Author's Note: English is not my first language! Excuse me if there any mistake, I hope y'all can understand what I'm saying.

Warnings: flirting, tension, fun, mention of drinks, sex - I might add something else on the way.

Part 01 | Part 02

____________

I am looking at the ceiling and trying to sleep as I’m nervous about tomorrow.

The last pre-tests were okay and I did well, but tomorrow is the final test. That determines my future. Everything I’ve been dreaming about.

Besides, there’s one thing that might get in the way. And his name is Javier Peña.

Peña doesn’t want me to get the job. Of course not. I was the kid who used to laugh at him in kindergarten because he pronounced some words incorrectly. But that wasn’t just me. The whole class used to do it. I was just one more. Now I know that is not an excuse and I was not right to do it, but I was a kid. I’ve learned a lot since then and I’m a totally different person now. I just might got the chance to prove that to him now.

But he seems to never forget those years and life happened. He happens to be one of the judges of my tests to become an agent that will work alongside him.

Of course I wouldn’t want to work with him either, but it’s my only chance. I got away from home and now this is the only opportunity I have to make it on my own.

“It’s okay” I think. “You can make it”.

The pre-tests were a bunch of forms we had to fill, but the final test is personal. Besides physical and mental tests, we have a challenge we need to overcome. Whoever do the right things gets to be Peña’s partner.

So I take a deep breath and try again to fall sleep.

I’m up and making my breakfast as I try to stay calm. I decided to make this anxiety my ally and use it in my favor. That means I get there early, get ready and get shit done.

I take a shower, brush my teeth and put on the comfortable clothes I’ve chosen: a white t-shirt, a legging and a white sporty sneakers. I fix up my short hair, grab a bag with some stuff I might need and leave to the department building it’ll take place.

I am not the first one to get there, but the second. That makes my anxiety come back a little bit. But nothing to worry about, I’m super focused.

As I go inside the department, I am told to wait in a big white room with some chairs where my opponent is waiting too. I give him a smile and sit at the back. As some people arrive, I can see through a glass at the wall people walking, coming and going. At some point, my heart almost stops at the glimpse I saw of him. “How am I letting him trough my emotions like this?” I focus again and try to chill. After some minutes the class has about 10 people and a woman comes in. She looks and talks like a leader.

— May I have your attention. Welcome. I am Emily, co-director of the department and today you will be doing your final tests to start your career as an agent. At least one of you. You will be called as soon as possible. Good luck.

She leaves the room and I start to get nervous again. But I don’t even have time to get nervous because I am the first called.

First is the mental test. All it is: a conversation with a psychologist and answer a few questions about how I normally react at some situations.

Then, it’s the physical. I have to push some weights, do some exercises that requires my reflection and fight with a doll.

“I’m doing great so far” I think with myself.

Now the challenge. The part I was most excited about. I am really good at solving things and that’s why I think I gotta a good chance.

I’m lead to another room, like an auditorium, where there’s a bunch of people. I can see Emily through and, of course, my eyes go directly to the corner where Javier Peña is looking right back at me. Everyone is silent.

At the front of the room there’s this big desk with a map, a pen and a tablet. In the tablet, there’s the description of the task. I need to find the criminal to a crime that was committed 15 years ago. There’s some clues and a history I read to and my brain just gets into work. I take my time but I’m betting the time also counts in this, so I am going as fast as I can.

I take about half an hour to find a suspect and I need to speak how I’ve come to that result. I talk on how I found some clues that were not in the description and how I got at the suspect by elimination in that case. I am secure and that reflects in the way I talk, so I feel thankful. When I’m done, Emily says an Okay and tells me I can leave the room.

As I get outside the adrenaline kicks in and I feel my heart accelerating. I’m thinking “have I done everything I could?” “what if I let something pass by me” “what if I got it wrong” I come back to earth when this other woman is trying to talk to me but I wasn’t listening.

— What?

— I said you can come with me.

She leads me into the first room I was, where there’s nobody now, and tells me I can wait there. I go to the same chair I was in the back and wait for the others to come.

I let the anxiety take over me. I am having these negative thoughts. Specially thinking that Peña will do everything to not make me his partner.

Suddenly we are 10 people again in that room and Emily comes in.

— Well done everybody. As you know, you will know the result in three days. You can leave now and good luck.

“Three fucking days”

I go outside needing some coffee – like I’m not anxious enough – and there’s this cafe at the corner of the department building. I go inside and order my coffee. I grab it and when I turn around there’s Peña behind me.

— Jesus! — I almost yelled.

— It’s Javier — he says like this meeting is no big deal — I know you remember.

— Of course. Peña. — I try to chill — Good to see you.

— Really?

— Yes. Sure. I mean, it’s a familiar face.

He smiles with the corner of his mouth.

The waitress is waiting to get his order.

— Next!

— Go ahead. I need to go anyway. Good to see you again!

I leave desperately and embarrassed. As soon as I get home I started thinking “should I have said something different?” “I should have enjoyed the opportunity to ask him about the test” “I should’ve apologized” “for what?” “shit forget it”

I get into bed and try to convince my brain that we have three days of waiting.

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Could y'all just imagine the batkids all just get really mad at Bruce and they're like ya know what we're going to dramatically inconvenience him and make him look stupid at the same time, like Bruce even has annoyed the fuck out of Alfred and so Alfred actually helps them with the prank.

Just imagine they fill all of the bat suits with glitter bombs and no matter how hard Bruce tries he can't get the glitter out and definitely not before he has to go fight crime later on that night and as a result none of the villains will go near him cause ain't no body want to be glitter bombed yet all the villains make fun of him in some way and laugh themselves into fucking hysterics especially Harley and ivy even the joker makes fun of his ass

And the batkids times the glitter bombs to go off right when Bruce is at a gala and has all his baby suits being cleaned somewhere and durring that process there's just a massive eruption of glitter and it's everywhere and just to really make his day harder and more annoying Jason decides to fill the batmobile with even more glitter and steals the bat mobiles tires and super flues them to the roof of the Wayne Manor and it's some special hybrid glue he and Tim made together just to do this

And later on after Bruce got laughed out of fighting crime and most of the criminals decided they'd give the man a break and just not do there plans that day just because they were too amused, he comes home early to find the fucking tires if the batmobile glued to the roof in such odd angles that while yes he actually very mad and fuming right now he can't help but be at least a little impressed and when he goes in to confront the kids they're all at the fucking Kent farm in metropolis hanging out with Clark and his family

When Lois and Clark hear of this they're laughing hysterically

Clark actually low-key heard about the plan from Alfred and Clark snuck over as Superman to get photos of Bruce as batman covered in glitter

None of the kids get any allowances from Bruce for 6 months the only time he buys anything for them is if it's a necessity but because he's rich he doesn't fully understand what the difference is between necessities and wants at times and the kids totally take advantage the only one exempt from this is Damian he had no part of this he was with Talia

When she returns and finds out she too is laughing her ass off she actually gets pictures of batman covered in glitter fuming and sends it to the group chat she has with ra's

I also imagine that ra's after seeing the pictures starts working glitter into all of his plans to make Bruce submit and become the head of the league if assassin's one day a bunch of assassins come at him and Bruce just gets glitter bombed head to toe again, and the funniest thing is when he fights them they just fucking disappear because he'll no those outfits they have cost thousands of dollars and they're the special fabric that causes no sensory issues. They're not about to get hit by a glittered covered batman

And Talia is somewhere taking more pictures and sending them to Jason and Damian

Alfred forbids the glittered covered Bruce Wayne from entering Wayne Manor in his clothes that are covered in glitter and Bruce has so much glitter on him that he starts sneezing glitter and Alfred actually starts laughing at him out loud

(feel free to expand on this if you like, I thought of this at like 3 am while severely sleep deprived)