#a vv happy day :))

[jtspaderstills]

my heart is filled with happiness whenever i see him happy ^^

[blizzardfluffykpop]

My Darling

Summary: A mean clothing boutique shopkeeper. And Kevin who soothes all your insecurities by proving to you what you mean to him.

Oneshot

Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Non-idol au, Fluff?, Friends to Lovers au

If you are a minor, please do not read/engage with this post. This is an 18+ work. 

Warnings: Oral (r! receiving), Cum eating, Slight hair pulling (m! receiving), Protected Sex, Hand holding during sex, Slight body worship, Praise?, Marking (m! & r! receiving), Some aftercare, Use of pet names: Sweetheart & Darling. Very important: Reader is androgynous in clothing & and doesn’t wear makeup, and has body hair, and is a bit self-conscious about both (nothing Kevin can’t soothe ofc). *And if I missed any pls lmk!*

TW: A shopkeeper makes meanish comments about how the reader dresses and doesn’t shave. Leading to slightly self-conscious thoughts.

Word Count: 3,840

Kevin X Androgynous! Afab! Reader

Requested

Again, if you are a minor, please do not read/engage with this post. This is an 18+ work. 

------

You start getting dressed to go out when Kevin calls you up, asking, “Hey, you wanna hang out today?” You look at the clock, “I’d love to, but I have plans to go clothes shopping right now.” He hums, “Okay. How does five sound?” You grin, your heart thumping at the thought of seeing him later, “Sounds good, I’ll see you then.” He sweetly says, “See ya.” You grin as you realize you could get something new to wear on your date. You shake your head at yourself and tell your heart to quiet down. He just wanted to hang out with you as a friend. It definitely wasn’t a date, nor was your outing for him, but it didn’t mean you could get something for the occasion as well. 

You go to a few shops, buying a few things here and there before you end up at a local boutique. You head in, and the shopkeeper sweetly greeted you. You look around, picking out a motorcycle jacket, a few pairs of jeans, and two shirts. The jacket paired well with all the jeans you tried on, including the jeans you had worn there. But it was the two shirts that you were having issues with. The first one was too shapely. And it gave you an ick, so you took it off before trying on the yellow shirt. It was definitely your cut, but you weren’t sure if the color muted your skin tone. So, you ask the boutique owner for a second opinion. You spin around in front of her after asking her about the color to show her how it looks, and she says, “Honey, that?” You nod, and she shakes her head, “You’ll never get a partner if you keep dressing the way you do. Don’t you want something that’s flattering and shows off your natural curves?” You blink at her. All you had wanted was a color opinion. 

You give her a tight-lipped smile as you express to her, “I dress in a way that makes me happy…” The shopkeeper shakes her head, “Up to you, really.” As she walks back to her register, she tsks, “What’s with this new generation and not shaving…” You quickly get out of the clothes you were trying on and put your clothes back on. You didn’t want them anymore. You just wanted to go home. You put the clothes on the return rack and tell her tersely, “Thanks.” As if she didn’t say what she had in the changing rooms, she cheerily says, “Stop by again~.” You leave the store empty-handed, and it takes everything in you to make it out to your car without crying. They were tiny remarks, but they hurt so bad. Maybe she was right… 

You barely made it home, wiping your eyes at every traffic light you stopped at. When you finally parked, you rushed to your apartment, throwing your bags of clothes at the front door and yourself onto the couch as you wallowed. It wasn’t often your insecurities bothered you because you were confident in your skin. But her remarks cut like a remark. You couldn’t be with someone like Kevin. You didn’t dress flatteringly; it made you uncomfortable. You didn’t wear makeup, you didn’t shave, you didn’t do anything that was expected of you by society. And you didn’t want to, and it never mattered before because how you looked and dressed made you happy. But what if those things did actually matter? What if Kevin wouldn’t want to date you because of that? You cry harder into your couch cushion, trying to calm yourself.

An hour later, a knock comes on your front door. And you wipe your eyes before checking the peephole to see Kevin standing there. You gulp, remembering he asked to hang out later today. You try to wipe away any remnants of tears left on your face. So, it wouldn't look like you’ve been crying for the past few hours. You open the door with the best smile you can muster, and he smiles at you, “Hey, (Y/n)-” Before he pauses as he searches your eyes, “You look like you’ve been crying. You okay, sweetheart?” You let him in as you shake your head, looking down at the ground, “I just… I had a really bad day…” He hums and asks you to talk about it. You sigh “It’s over something small…” He shakes his head, “Even if it’s small doesn’t mean it can’t hurt you.” You bite your lip, “I um… well, I went to a boutique earlier.” He nods as you both sit down on the couch. “Yeah, I remember you telling me you were going shopping.” You give him a curt nod, “I did get a few things at other stores. But, uh, I asked the shopkeeper to come over because I couldn’t decide if this one yellow shirt complimented me or not...” 

He puts his hand over yours that’s starting to shake, and you sigh, “She uh… She said that um…” He rubs his thumb over your hand, waiting for you to continue. “She told me that I’ll never get a partner… if I keep dressing the unflattering way I do.” He gasps, “She said that!?” You nod, unable to hold back a sniffle, “It’s just um… it’s something I’ve always worried about. I mean, usually, I'm confident in my style and self. But her saying that… It hit a sore spot.” He shakes his head, “But, sweetheart, she’s wrong. You’ll get a partner no matter what you wear-” You shake your head as you squeeze his hand, “But Kevin,... she’s right, I don’t dress in a way others could possibly like... No one would ever want to date me.” He shakes his head at you, “No, she isn’t. Because if she was right, I wouldn’t find you endlessly attractive and want to date you, huh?” He presses his lips together as he realizes what he said, “This is not how I wanted this to go…” You blink at him in disbelief, “You do?” He nods, “You’re so attractive to me.” You ask him wearily, “You don’t care about how I dress?” He squeezes your hand, bringing you closer, “No, rather, I enjoy it, and god, your outfits make you look hot. And I enjoy how you don’t conform to stupid patriarchal standards.” You look into his eyes, searching for any sign of a lie, “Seriously?” He nods, “I mean it. You look so cool. And you being confident in your style makes you even hotter.” You shake your head, “I... I don’t believe you. You mean you’ve liked me back all this time?” And he asks, “Do you want me to prove it to you?” You blink at him but give him a small nod, “I need words, darling.” You whisper, “Please.” 

He brings you into his hold, removing his hand from yours to cup your cheeks. He smiles as he looks at you, “Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are beautiful?” You whisper, “No…” And he tells you, “They’re the prettiest ones I’ve ever seen.” You blush, and he finally brings you in for a kiss. His lips meld with yours as he pulls you onto his lap. He breaks apart to tell you, “I know this outfit makes you look undeniably hot, but I can’t wait to see what you look like without it on.” You blush as you pull him in for another kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He runs his tongue along your lips, asking for permission, and you grant him it. His tongue explores your mouth as he runs his hands over your shirt. You let out a soft moan as you pull on his hair, making him let out a soft grunt. 

He pulls back to just kiss your lips, his eyes searching yours. As he gets his hand under your shirt, you shake your head, pulling away from him, and he immediately moves his hands away, “I’m sorry, was I moving too fast?” You shake your head, “That’s… That’s not it.” He waits for you to continue, “What is it?” “I- I… I didn’t- I don’t shave… and she also made a comment about that.” And he smiles before he gives you a shrug, “A little body hair never hurt anyone.” And you shake your head, closing your eyes, “But Kevin…” He tsks at you, “You could be bigfoot, bald, green with yellow polka dots, and I’d still find you attractive. I promise you; nothing is going to scare me away. So may I please see what you look like without your shirt on?” You ask, looking him in the eyes, “Pinky promise?” He tells you, “I’d swear on a stack of ten bibles for you, but yes, I pinky promise.” He links his pinky with yours, and you sigh, “Okay.” His hands creep under your shirt, gently rolling it up before he takes it off. You see his grin grow as he looks over you, “You’re so fine, darling.” You blush at him and whisper a small thanks before he pulls you into another kiss. You find your hands wandering to the end of his shirt and slightly lift it up to run your hands over his stomach. He cheekily flexes his abs as you do. And you giggle into the kiss. 

He peels off his shirt and lifts you up into his arms with ease, “Why don’t we take this somewhere nicer?” He takes you to your bedroom and lays you gently on the comforter. He reaches over and finds the switch for the bedside lamp. And when it turns on, he grins as he looks over you. “You look divine.” You blush, and he leans over you to capture your lips in his. He trails his kisses down your jaw and along your neck, leaving little marks as he does. You move your hand, and when he pauses in between hickeys. You pull his face to yours and bring him in for another kiss. You make out for a few minutes before you both pull away breathlessly. And he sighs, “Fuck, I can’t get enough of your lips.” He brings you in for another kiss, and when you pull away this time, he trails kisses down your chest, teasingly nipping at your skin as he makes his way further down. 

He kisses all along your stomach, and then he stops. And you look at him in confusion, and he says, “Before I get too far ahead of myself, are you sure you want to go further?” You sigh, “Please, Kevin.” He grabs your hand and places a gentle kiss on it before pulling off your pants and adjusting to be in front of you. He smiles, kissing along your stomach before he kisses you over your panties a few times. He hooks his fingers under them and pulls them off. You gasp as your self-conscious brain catches up to you as you try to hide yourself from him. Kevin raises his eyebrow at you and asks, “And what do you think you’re doing, darling?” You blink at him, and he says, “I want to see every inch of you. Don’t you dare hide.” You nod, and he smiles as he pushes your hands away and your legs back open. He smiles as he kisses up your thighs. As he grows closer, he sucks on your thigh, nipping at it to give you a hickey. As you gasp, he says, “Your little reminder until next time~” 

He swipes his fingers over your entrance and grins, “All for me?” You blush, giving him a small nod as he licks his fingers clean. He lets out a little hum before sinking further into the mattress to place a kiss on your clit. He grins as you let out a whimper and licks a stripe along your folds. He hears you rustling the comforter and looks up to see your hands desperately seeking purchase in your comforter. He reaches his hand up to hold yours before diving in and lapping at your entrance. Making you squeeze his hand tightly as he shoves his face further in. His nose brushes your clit as he closes his eyes in contentment. He groans, “God, you taste so good, darling…” sending vibrations up your spine. You whimper as he continues to figure out what exactly made you twitch. Licking at your entrance before sucking on your clit and back again. Your moans grow louder as he finally finds his rhythm, his tongue running figure eights over your entrance as his nose bumps against your clit. Your moans are like music to his ears, especially when your legs start shaking against his head. You hold his hand tightly as you start squirming, and his other arm comes to hold you down as he eats you out like a starved man. 

Not being able to close your legs, with your free hand, you seek out the next best thing. You grip his hair, causing him to groan against you as you nearly scream from the pleasure, “Kev-Kevin!” He hums, and it sends more vibrations up your spine, and you let out a louder moan. “I’m gonna-” and before you can even finish your sentence, you do. And Kevin hums again as he laps up your juices. His nose bumps into your overstimulated clit as he does, making you cry out. When he finally pulls away and sits up on his knees, you let out a sigh of relief. Your hands separate for a moment so your mind can finally catch up to your brain. And when you look up at him, you see his chin covered in your juices. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand and licks it off. He leans over you, “I know I’ve already said it, but you taste so good…” He puts his finger under your chin, pulling you to look at him, “Is all this just for me, darling?” You nod in a stupor, “Just for you…” He smirks, “Good.” before capturing your lips in a kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue when he slips it into your mouth. 

When he moves back, he reaches back into his pants pocket, pulls out his wallet, and grabs a condom from it. He puts his wallet in his pant pocket before he asks again, “You sure you want to go all the way with me tonight? Because if not, I can always rub one out-” “Kevin, please just fuck me.” His smile slowly turns into a smirk, “You asked for it, darling~” In one swift motion, he pulls off his pants and briefs before slipping the condom over his cock and lining up with your entrance, “Tell me how you feel, okay?” He slips in slowly, and you let out a little gasp, “So- so good, Kev…” He smiles as he grabs your hand again, and your other hand grips the comforter beneath you. You squeeze his hand as he bottoms out, and you both let out a groan. He grunts, “When you’re ready…” He places gentle kisses along your collarbone as he waits for you. You squeeze his hand and tell him he can move. 

He starts out slow, slowly thrusting in and out of you as he starts to work you both into a pace. You whine, “Fa-faster…” You squeeze his hand as his pace picks up, and he squeezes it back before resting his weight on his other forearm. He captures your lips in another kiss and happily swallows your moans as he increases his pace. He pulls away to whisper, “You’re so beautiful, darling.” He gives you another gentle kiss, and you grip your comforter tighter as he starts thrusting even faster. You lean your head up, and he moves his upper body down so you can place kisses on his collarbone. He lets out soft groans as you suck and nip at it to make it nice and red before pulling away. As he thrusts faster, you place a few more kisses up the column of his neck and leave a hickey next to his adam's apple. When you pull back, he’s looking down at you with a small smile on his lips as he starts moving faster, “W-what?” He smiles, pausing to whisper, “I just wanted to kiss you.” He captures your lips in his as he picks the pace back up, and it leaves you moaning in his mouth. 

When his lips leave yours, he shifts his weight to his knees, running his hand up your stomach and to your chin, “You look so hot.” He kisses you again before moving his hand back down and slipping it between you two to rub circles into your clit. You gasp, squeezing his hand tighter and the blankets harder. “Kev-Kevin?” “You close, darling?” You nod as you gasp, and he murmurs to you, “Then cum for me.” Two thrusts later, as if you were under his spell, you come undone. He groans, “Fuck…” He buries his head into your neck as he reaches his own orgasm. He thrusts a few more times, and you whine a bit from the overstimulation, and he stops, breathing heavily as you both try to catch your breath. When you finally can see things other than stars, he pulls out and kisses your forehead, “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” He gets up from the bed, pulls off his condom, throws it away, and heads to your bathroom. He returns with a damp rag and cleans you up before tossing it into the hamper and lying beside you. He wraps you up in his arms, peppering kisses over your face, making you giggle. “I know this backward to ask now… But can I ask you to be mine?” You smile at him and kiss his nose, “Only if you’re mine in return.” He grins, “Of course, my darling.” He kisses you before pulling the blanket over the two of you. You cuddle into his chest, letting his steady heartbeat put you to sleep. 

When you wake up in the morning, you find Kevin’s arm wrapped loosely around your waist, keeping you close to him. You look back to see him starting to blink awake. And he smiles at you. His voice is gravely as he says, “You even look hot with a messy bedhead, huh?” You blush and shake your head at him, and he turns you over. You ask, “When did you fall for me?” He smiles, “Five days after the day I met you. But you were so out of my league at the time.” You blink at him, “What do you mean?” He laughs, “You were so cool. You didn't care about what others thought and dressed to impress yourself. And I thought that was so hot.” You laugh, and before you can interject, he says, “Knowing you do care behind that tough exterior. I promise to remind you all the time.” You shove your head into his chest, “Kevin...” You hear him laugh before he asks, “Now, it’s only fair if you tell me.” You look up at him, “I was listening to you talk about something you were passionate about a month after getting to know you. And that was it for me.” He hums, “What was it about?” You grin, “Beyoncé.” He laughs, “Good to know my nerdy fanboy talk turns you on.” You lightly smack his chest at that, “Shut up.” He places a kiss on your forehead before curling around you. You stay like that for a few minutes before he asks, “Would you like to go back to that boutique? I know there were some things you wanted.” You sigh as you look down at your blanket, “I mean, I do… But…” He nods, “Is it because of what she said?” You nod, and he kisses your nose, “Well, now, we get to prove her wrong. And you can try on that top, and I’ll give you my honest color opinion.” You look into his eyes as you ask, “Really?” He nods, “Of course.” You grin, “Okay, let’s get dressed.” 

He offers you his hand when you get out, and you happily take it in yours. When you get close to the door, he looks at you as if to ask you if you are okay with this. You nod. You really did want that motorcycle jacket. The shopkeeper greets you in the same cheery voice, like nails on a chalkboard. You find the jeans, jacket, and shirt you had tried on before. And Kevin grins, “Oh, that jacket is so cool.” You smile, “I love how it looks.” He smiles, and you lead him over to the changing rooms. He lets go of your hand and stands guard outside the changing room. You show him how the jacket looks, and he grins, “Yeah, that’s sexy.” You laugh, and he smiles as he waits for you to try on your shirt. You look over it and still can’t tell if the color looks good on you. And your brain starts replaying what she said to you. Before it can shake you, you quickly move the curtain back. You catch Kevin glaring at the shop owner and giggle before you say, “What do you think?” He smiles, “That yellow looks beautiful on you, darling. It makes your skin glow.” You blush, “Really?” He grins and kisses your nose, “You should get it, and I think it’ll pair with the jacket well, too.” You grin at him. That’s all you wanted to hear. You try the jacket with it and find he’s right before changing back. 

You head to the counter, hand in hand, squeezing his hand for reassurance as you draw closer to the shopkeeper. He whispers, “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m here.” She rings your stuff up, and you see her look at your interlocked hands. And he squeezes your hand, grounding you. She tells you the total. And before you can pull out your wallet. Kevin says, “I’m paying for my partner’s clothes.” Her eyebrows raise at him as she scoffs, “Okay.” She hands you your bag and tells you both to have a nice day with a gruff tone. He pulls you in for a kiss right in front of the door, and you hear her gasp. He pulls away and opens the door, and both of you snicker at her attitude when you leave the store. And you tell him, “You didn’t have to pay…” He shrugs, “I wanted to.” You shake your head at him, “But Kevin-” He opens your door, “Plus, wasn’t it fun to prove her wrong?” You smirk, “It kind of was…” He smiles and squeezes your hand, “Then that’s what matters most.” You shake your head, and once he’s in, he asks, “What do you say to being wined and dined, darling?”  You grin as you both buckle in, “Oh hell yeah.”

[mattpearson]

ZACH WOODS as EDGAR MINNOWS in THE AFTERPARTY (S02E01)

That was awkward, and then your partner had to laugh to cover over the silence.

[favoritejohn]

happy birthday to the (ˆ ³ ˆ)est man in the world ♡

[nanami-is-nanamean]

LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO

THE GONANA FAMILY YEAHHH

All i need now is sr or ssr megs or nob heheheheh

[heffrondriving]

soooo. that new big time rush album huh

[stormyoceans]

IT'S BEAUTIFUL. I'VE LOOKED AT THIS FOR FIVE HOURS NOW

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

Headcanons that can and will make up how I write the Marvelous Bats AU I’m trying to actually write

Everyone has a minor upgrade or addition on the powers they have. Eugene has his technokinesis, Pedro is physically stronger than Billy even though they have the same blessing, Darla is faster, Freddy has some minor telekinesis and is better at flying in practice, and Mary’s courage is infectious to the degree of getting people out of being scared frozen in an emergency and getting them to rescue themselves and have the bravery to help others along the way.

Billy and Mary are still twins, she’s adopted by the Bromfields and Billy is newly fostered by the Vasquez’s but they all work and spend time together as a family unit despite the separate home lives

Billy knows how to make portals anywhere with doors, the place just needs to have a door. (He has tried getting the Batcave that way but apparently the car doors of the Batmobile don’t count)

Yes all the Bats know the Marvels identity’s and vice versa, the rest of the League? Nope. Just think Batman mellowed out in his crusade to learn Caps identity

Yes Bruce wanted to adopt Billy, Billy said screw that and Jason pointed out how bad of an idea it would be to have a kid named Batson in the public eye of Gotham. “The Joker can and will try to make a bad joke out of the kid Bruce.” “Yeah Batman, you want me to die in a robin costume of all things?” Bruce just stayed silent for a moment and almost started crying (it’s was only a week later Jason took a good look at the kid and realized Billy is a mini him and Bruce probably didn’t like the Robin comment)

Damian, Darla, and Jon are the true kid hero trinity. Their mission? Chaos

Freddy just about passed out when he met Barbra, the super amazing Batgirl is the super cool lady behind the monitor that’s one of freaking Batman’s most essential teammates? Oh the feeling of finally seeing a super like himself

Tim met Billy and Mary’s parents through his own when he was little, the 3 of them had a very long discussion about cool archeology stuff for a good few hours

Because his hero form is his “full potential” and is very big Pedro asked Jason to help him get from how he is now to his hero form, seeing as his body type was closest. Now they work out together every Tuesday and Friday (school and vigilante work permitting) half of it is actually working out and the other is building Pedros confidence

Batman and Captain Marvel make a point to block and argue heavily against any other Marvel joining the League, Billy is the only one until the rest of the family does meet the age requirement they have. Billy does the heavy lifting expected of the actual Champion of Magic and his siblings enjoy the small town hero life and look out for Fawcett and the Rock when he’s off world, Mary is the defacto leader when he’s gone.

Like how every Bat has their designated Super and sometimes Wonder, they all have a Marvel they hang out with more than others. Mary and Dick hang out and bond over being the unfortunate voice of reason siblings, Darla is the childish influence making Damian act more his age and love doing it. Billy and Bruce are the respective “heads of the family” and Bruce checks in a lot on how Billy’s life is going with the occasional leadership tip thrown in to help with hero work. Jason tutors Pedro when they’re both visiting, if they cross paths on the job they’ll talk sports a lot. Freddy and Eugene talk a lot about strategy’s, games, gadgets, and superpowers with Barbra and Tim.

Tawny and Alfred are golfing buddies, they also build miniatures of flag ships together and talk about their weird family of supers over tea

Eugene has hacked the Bat-computer on multiple occasions, each time to make an edit to any files Bruce makes of the family, mostly something childish like adding “the amazing” or “the super awesome” before their hero names in the files. But one hack he did was into his contingency plans files, which nearly gave Bruce a heart attack thinking there was going to be another accident that would almost kill his friends.

The hack was the change of “Further research needed to figure out a strategy for neutralization, for now the best strategy is to trick or force them into using their trigger phrase to de-transform before incapacitating them” to “let their siblings deal with the situation”

The Justice League’s first introduction to Captain Marvel was during a “Superman is being affected by Red Kryptonite” situation. By the time they caught up to him in Fawcett their resident hero was helping the man up and panicking over how much he hurt him trying to wrestle the Kryptonite off him, they offered him a seat with them by the end of the week after satellite imaging showed that he led Superman into the air after he knocked down a building and delt with him without further damage and Superman’s account that he broke his arm and bruised multiple ribs trying to stop him. Billy was 9 at the time and only had his powers a few months at that time so he had no idea how much he needed to reel his strength in and was panicking too much to properly do so either way in that fight.

Damian was jealous that Billy got into the league so young and Bruce still won’t let him on despite his capabilities but realizes Billy only got so far because of a lie of omission and one event where he severely harmed Superman, he’d call his father an idiot if he hadn’t tried to keep an eye on such a worrying individual

The Vasquez’s know their kids visit the Wayne’s every other day, as do the Bromfields, but only Vic and Rosa know about the superhero part of it all. The Bromfields just think Mary is visiting a girl friend and having sleepovers every so often, they aren’t entirely wrong since she does hang out with Cass and Stephenie but they don’t need to know her whole superhero life. It’s framed as a mentorship so that their kids can do their best with the powers given to them with a healthy amount of encouragement in still being kids and attending school, it’s mostly just the two families spending time with eachother though.

Black Adam used to antagonize the Marvel Family but after a fight with Billy 1v1 he saw he was a child and stopped trying to actively kill him, he’s now their weird uncle figure who pops by to show them some fighting moves and try to tell Billy to stop being the champion until he’s older.

Black Adam is closer to the movie version solely for the purposes of expanding the family size, he looks like his classic comic self but has to shift in morals and backstory he had in the movie

The fight happened in a empty patch of dessert outside Khandaq when Billy was 11, no one on the League knows why they suddenly stopped fighting or why Cap officiated the guys wedding but their happy he figured something out so his city didn’t get torn up every month by their fights anymore.

The hero names and nicknames for the Marvel family are as follows

Billy Batson —> Captain Marvel (Cap, the Captain)

Mary Bromfield —> Mary Marvel (Mary)

Freddy Freeman —> Lieutenant Marvel (Lieu, Captain Marvel Jr. (by one annoying reporter))

Pedro Peña —> General Marvel (The jolly green giant, Greenie)

Eugene Choi —> Chief Marvel (Chief, Master Chief (self proclaimed, never used))

Darla Dudley —> Ms./Princess Marvel (Ms., Missy Marvel, Missy (Used for professional purposes) Princess (Used every other time as her choice of code name))

Adriana Tomaz —> Isis (/got the amulet of Isis as a wedding gift from Darla from the Rock, she didn’t know what it was but is happy she got cool powers with the rest of the family/)

Amon Tomaz —> Horus (/name changed from comics to coincide with the change in family dynamic between him and Adriana from siblings to parent/child/)

Theo —> Black Adam/Khem Adam

Shout out to @thefantasmarex for reminding me how much I love these two families together

[blizzardfluffykpop]

alright~ a few updates about everything! so this weekend I'll be seeing changkyun in chicago- so I prolly won't be posting until after I'm alive again from that 😂😅 (I am vv excited about it- I just know I'll be vv tired when I return home). Anyways, I have a few fics in the works~ one of them that is a request 🤭 I'm vv excited to work on them! But I think I'm going to change my masterlist a bit when I come back. I'm going to retire a few groups from the main masterlist and I've been debating for the past year about it... But I think I'm going to add a yearly masterlist- So it would go from most recent to the beginning of this year~

I'm also thinking about changing my pfp- I haven't been really into stray kids for uh... years- But I will be sure to make an update about that if I go thru with that too- (It may be ji changmin next 🫣🤭)

Anyways those are my few updates 🥰💖

[barbatoskisser]

Yall see how i went radio silwnt on tdov?

Hehe, i pulled a switcheroo

[diremoone]

I’m so happy to finally get to sit down and read this at long last. The last few days have been extremely draining and it doesn’t help my period is right around the corner and the pms symptoms have hit. I super enjoyed finally getting to relax and enjoy chapter 3. Vv giddy for the next installment ;3

synchronise 3.0

On one end of the line, you've sunny days, mild breezes and not one thing to worry over. On the other end, there are only moonless nights, foul gales and one too many decisions– made and unmade– to repent for. And in the middle of this line segment, is you—

The only means by which the scales can be re-balanced. The equilibrium lost can be re-discovered. The wheels of life thrown off-kilter can be re-synchronised.

[Long story short: Time can be a funny little bitch— Good thing, you know how to be funnier than time itself!]

gojo satoru x fem!reader; canon divergence; time travel fix-it; no warnings except the characters themselves featuring here; note [dw- this will make sense later on]: Asia is the largest continent on earth, while Europe is the second-smallest continent; reader has two brothers [js mentioned here]

prev chapter // synchronise masterlist // THE masterlist

chapter three: T-Junction (Ⅰ)

Siblings... are complicated.

You don't really hate them, no. Not at all, honestly speaking.

Your two brothers mean the world to you— okay, maybe not the world. But they do mean a continent to you each. Maybe not Asia... maybe Europe... yeah, Europe sounds apt enough— Anyway, the point is: you love your brothers very much and are willing to punch anyone if that's what makes them happy. Still, you can't help but see siblings as somewhat complicated...

Which is why, your reckon, you feel so conflicted on seeing your probable-sister.

Are you happy? Yes. Of course. You finally have a sister, after all.

But are you really, truly happy?

... No, you aren't.

You're upset, your parents' affection for their kids will now be divided into four instead of three. You're upset, your parents have been hiding such information for so long. You're upset, this woman's abrupt appearance is bound to wreck havoc, in your already far too chaotic world.

You're upset, you're hurt, you're mad—

"I'm not the long-lost sister you might be thinking I am— I'm you, from the future."

You know you should be confused. You should be skeptical, you know this too. You should ask for proof– For all you know, she might be a con artist perfect at impersonation– It's really, really imperative for you to ask her for some form of proof, before engaging in any further interaction...

Yet all you do is take a small step forwards, so as to regard your alleged future self more keenly.

Only to take a step back, a shocked gasp barely stifled on realising– recognising– her presence entirely...

"You're really me," you murmur, voice far too low despite there being no one here to eavesdrop on you or 'the other you'. The latter's lips quirk up in a faint ghost of a smile. "You're much easier to convince than I thought you would be... It's not good to be this believing, y'know. Life won't go easy on you."

Perhaps, it won't. Perhaps, it will. But:

"Life hasn't gone too easy on you either, has it?" The question slips past you into the suffocating staleness of the alleyway... Not that you ever made any effort to stop it whatsoever, however. The smile shot at you fades into something raw, something visibly wounded— Should you care?

No. Maybe you should, but you won't.

You... simply don't want to.

Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you fold your arms across your chest and continue, "You look like absolute shit— Has anyone told you this yet, lady? Well, I'm telling you now: You Do," the words leave you in a sneer, allowing her no space to answer the ask. The latter was rhetoric anyway. "Your hair looks off, your face looks off, even your clothes— Goodness!" you let out a gasp, following it with harsh chuckles. Totally ignoring the flinch you receive in response.

"Did you come straight from a funeral, eh? And please don't even get me started on your cursed energy— mine is so fucking bright, so fucking powerful, people find themselves struggling to to breathe if I ever let the entire potential of mine loose! But yours? Heh," you scoff, smirking at her distressed features, "I know you're me but yours is nothing but a disgrace to mine: dull, weak, broken and fractured—"

CRASH!!!

The thunderous noise cuts you off from speaking.

And you whirl round, eyes the shape of saucers and your heart in your thraot, to find hell-like chaos unfolding in the china shop across the road: the owners screaming, the customers screaming, people pushing and shoving each other in their hurry to run out the cramped shop...

One they definitely believe to be haunted, from the way everything in there is now smashed to pieces...

Your older self is wearing a very stupid, very sheepish smile when you turn back around. She awkwardly scratches her neck then runs a hand through her hair, before sending you a crooked little grin this time.

"Sorry, uh. Silly emotions got the better of me, huh," she says, as if she did not just level a shop full of expensive crockery to the ground. The place is literally reeking of her– no, your– no, her!– cursed energy.  So blinding, so intense, you wonder how the people in there escaped from their organs being crushed by the sheer force of it...

"Anyway," A carefree hum drags you away from your racing thoughts of not-so-mild terror, "what was that you were talking 'bout again? Something related to my attire or my cursed ener–"

"Hey, no. Not at all," you don't waste even a fraction of a beat in denying. The woman's grin simmers down to a sharp shrewd tilt of her lips. "You can just forget whatever I was talking 'bout then. It's all nonsense, trust me. Nothing you got to worry about, haha."

"Okay," she agrees easily, moving to sit down on the box where Satoru and you were sitting before, waving a hand to call you over. You immediately comply with her request. Your older self regards you quietly for a couple beats before slumping back against the wall with a sigh.

You watch her look skywards before returning her focus to you.

"You must be wondering how– more importantly– why I'm here, right?"

Are you?

No, not really. You're actually wondering how on earth she got so powerful that she could cause such destruction despite the significant distance in between, without breaking into a single bead of sweat. You can't even focus enough to crush a dozen soda cans without needing a break in between.

Nevertheless, you don't let that stop you from returning an eager nod.

If the woman notes how forced it seems, she makes no mention of it, continuing, "Well, I'm not here from the future on a picnic, that's the only thing I can tell you for now... or ever, for that matter," she adds after a moment's contemplation.

"Things have gone kind of... let's say, wrong in the future. Yeah, wrong," she repeats after yet another moment's thought, "Like, really, really wrong. More like, disaster-level wrong." Her gaze falls to the purse in her hands, before lifting again to meet yours. "And I seriously need your help to make them right again, kid— considering this is the point where everything went off-track. This is the point where the two of us can ensure everything stays on the track."

"So tell me, kid," she twists to face you, desperation written all over her face— Not that you'll ever comment on it, though. Just because she is easy-going now, it doesn't mean you've to forget what happened not even ten minutes back—

"Do you wanna help me– and via that, yourself– out or not?"

A beat passes. Then another. And another.

You let your back hit the wall, biting back a defeated, already-fatigued groan...

She's acting as if you've got a goddamn choice in this godforsaken matter.

Her future is your future. So, if anything goes to hell in her future, it's doomed to go to hell in yours too. No questions asked, no conditions applied... You decide not to restrain the tinge– no, flood of your resignation in your tone this time.

"I'll help you out, okay," you concede, jumping down from the box and dusting your trousers.

The woman looks extremly delighted at your agreement— so much so that you think she might pull you into a tight hug. To avoid that, you move few steps away, and shoot a stiff smile back.

Her grin widens, if it was even possible at this point... Rising as well, she merrily ambles over to you and plucks out a terribly crumpled, terribly yellowed piece of film from her purse—

It's a family.

It's a photograph of a family—

A very cute, seemingly very happy family of three, if you're being honest.

There's the father, with a grimace-y smile and flattened black hair; and there's the mother, with an equally sweet beam and spiky black hair; then there's the kid– a teeny-tiny infant, to be specific– sucking on their thumb in their mom's arms, with the latter's spiky black hair...

You look up from the photo with a frown. "Am I supposed to find them or something?"

"Yup, you are," Your older version affirms with a hum— Before her cheeriness melts away into something far graver. And you reckon, it becomes her more than those eerie grins she was wearing before...

Clasping you by the shoulder, she bends an inch to look you in the eye. Words morphing into a mere wary whisper as she resumes:

"Then you're supposed to stop Zen'in Toji from going back to being an assassin. Kill him if you must, kid. But make sure, by hook or by crook, the world doesn't witness the return of the Sorcerer Killer."

nothing much to say, other than hoping this chapter was enjoyable!!! likes, comments & reblogs r vm welcome & appreciated! tysm to everyone who has supported this silly fic of mine till now *mwah mwah* 💗💗💗

header from pinterest; dividers by @benkeibear; jjk isn't mine

[lucretiaadventurezone]

TAZ Balance Dashboard Simulator

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happy rise and grind reclaimers wednesday monday

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its literally friday ?

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HAPPY RISE AND GRIND RECLAIMERS WEDNESDAY MONDAY FRIDAY

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#the additions are KILLING ME #laugh rule #tumblr days of the week #scheduled

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📔 sheesh-creesh

[REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED]

#bureau business #inoculated #txt

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give me that username lup. stop impersonating me

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no

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🍵 potion-master-69

CALLOUT FOR GARFIELD THE DEALS WARLOCK

so im not trying to start anything, but it has to be said. garfield has been collecting blood from various people and using it for nefarious purposes, as well as just kind of being a dick.

receipts under the readmore vv

Keep Reading

#callout #gore tw #lilian don’t look

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Life is meaningless and nothing matters. Everything sucks and we should all just give in. Submit to the Hunger.

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this is exactly what ligma was saying a few years ago

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What is Ligma? Some minor god you think will save you when your plane is consumed?

🌱 merlehighchurch1

LIGMA BALLS OHHHHHHHH

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ohmygod you killed him

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A picture of the moon I took with my new camera! If you look really closely, you can see the B.O.B. on the left side.

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You can't do that here

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hey guys! it's me, merle hightower highchurch. just wanted to come on here and say that i'm a total loser and lup is the coolest bitch alive

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STOP

#this is elder abuse

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💀 reaper-kravitz-official

.

#my coworkers are driving me CRAZY rn #what do you mean it was 'just a little bit' of necromancy #WE ARE LITERALLY REAPERS LIKE HELLO #and now rq will be pissed at me. great #vent #do not rb

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i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fu

#ohhhhh my god accidentally posted on the wrong blog #i didn't realize until BOTH of my coworkers had seen it fuck me #i am dating one of their brothers as well so #dreading our next work meeting and my date plans tonight

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🌈 lucretiaadventurezone

i need to pick up taako by the scruff of his neck and shake him around

[voidscreamns]

./

[strawberrygyuuuu]

𝐓𝐗𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 —> 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄 / 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓

Genre —> Fluff

—> how they'd react to their s/o holding the hem of their sleeve / shirt.

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

YEONJUN

• will actually explode

• who said you could be this fucking cute? Huh?

• I actually believe this man does the day you start doing this and continues to die every single time

• his heart just melts for you okay?

• I think he tries to contain his feelings but you're just so cute he can't help but to show it

• like he'll literally look at you in that fond lovesick way with a dumb little smile on his face

• maybe a little blushy as well

• because to him it's like you feel safe with him so you're holding onto him so you don't get lost in especially big crowds

• hold onto him for as long as you want, he thrives for it...it's a bit of an ego boost as well lol

SOOBIN

• he'll think sum is wrong at first

• he'll look at you and scan your face to see if there's any distress or discomfort or anything

• but once he sees you're okay and just hanging onto him Soobin will smile his cute lil dimple smile

• little sparkles in his eyes because you're adorable wtf dude !!!!

• "you're okay?"

• you just smile and nod at him, "mhm!"

• I think he adores your habit because it's you and he adores you

• sometimes I think he'll gently take your hand and replace it with his so yours are intertwined with his

• idk man he might die from heart attack tho cause how cute you are

• so be careful pooks ‼️

BEOMGYU

• when he's in a playful mood he'll make a big deal out of it

• "hmmm??? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

• "you love me THAT much? Woah!"

• he giggles but he is slightly worried

• but when he's not, it's either he doesn't say anything and just has this smug look on his face

• or he'll look at you to make sure you're alright and pull you closer to him but that's more in way too crowded areas

• idk it's like a dice roll lol

• you might get a smug reaction, a concern reaction or he'll tease you

• but he does care I swear

• it also makes him feel proud because like...you feel safe with him and he can protect you

• he's so in love with you girlie

TAEHYUN

• once y'all are more comfortable in the relationship he'll learn to enjoy it

• he has boundaries and although he does love you vv much those are still in place

• but when you did it it was more out of instinct

• tae def looks at you, then your hand, back at you before smiling fondly

• just a small smile

• "everything good, Hun?" GHFF PLS I NEED HIM🙏🏻

• when you confirm you're alright, he figured you were js anxious or to not lose him or sum

• lets you be, but will tease you sometimes

• only because he thinks it's endearing

• he trusts you when you tell him that you're fine so he doesn't push or anything

• fosho wants you to do it more often, if you ask if it annoys him he'll simply shake his head and tell you it doesn't, because it really doesn't

• probably encourages you to keep doing it tbh

• idk pooks

• you're endearing to him

HUENINGKAI

• is soo blushy and shy it's cute

• you're cute

• like omfg???

• he adores you sm n I genuinely think he'd love when you do this little habit of yours

• he snickers and smiles so wide

• boy is ear to ear smiling he's so happy n in love 😭🙏🏻

• probably tried to be normal about it and not make too big of a deal about it but you can tell he's over the moon

• because again, it's like,, you trust him ??

• ARUGH he can't take it pooks

• when y'all get back to the dorms or your apartment or sum he'll be squishing your cheeks

• rubbing his cheek against yours squealing about how cutie you are

• full on fanboy

• but I can also see him silently being happy about it

• and maybe probably possibly tease you later on just to poke fun

• but nothing serious; please keep doing this !

[sanatomis]

⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐃𝐀𝐃!

it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.

content. canon divergence (suguru’s alive and studying to be a kindergarten teacher), possible ooc characters, female!reader.

notes. guys i’m a sucker for satoru who really, really tries and isn’t just a goofy man-child ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ also ! thank you all for your patience, it took me a while to finish this piece bc of uni, so i'm vv happy it's finally done <3

taglist. | masterlist.

“I don’t have a dad.” 

As cruel as it may be, a part of Megumi hopes that the sentence makes his teacher greatly uncomfortable. Demanding for a father to attend a Career Day at school simply isn’t fair to children without one—or, well, to the child without one. It’s not his fault his father hauled ass and left, so why is she making this so difficult for him? 

“Oh,” she mumbles. It seems his arrow hit the target, as her eyebrows pull together in a frown and she shifts her weight between her feet. “Well, you, uh, have a male guardian, don’t you?”

Megumi grimaces. Instantly, he thinks back to last week. Satoru Gojo, self-proclaimed strongest, had hit his head on a kitchen cabinet. With a dramatic pout and an overexaggerated wobble to his lips, he clung to you for hours. Some affection will make it all better!

Of course, when Megumi criticised his skills surrounding his infinity technique—because, really, how couldn’t it block a simple cabinet—the sorcerer opted to ignore him. He suspects there was some foul play at hand. 

“Barely,” he mutters, as the memory resurfaces. 

His teacher lets out a startled hum. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” Megumi says quickly. He watches as she starts typing on her computer, and the realisation that she’s probably currently taking a look at his file isn’t a particularly welcome one. “What about my other guardian? Can I bring her, instead?”

“This event is geared towards fathers,” she explains. It’s obvious she forgot her reading glasses today, Megumi thinks, as she needs to narrow her eyes to read the screen in front of her. “I have one Satoru Gojo noted down as your male guardian. Surely, he will be able to attend.” 

Megumi pauses. He blinks up at her expressionlessly, and fights off the urge to push his teacher down a well. You often preach about being kind to others, and that wouldn’t be very kind. 

“Can’t I take my oth—”

“I’m afraid not,” she interrupts him before he even gets the sentence out. It irks him. Megumi isn’t fond of speaking to begin with, so when he does, he’d prefer not to be cut off halfway through. “An exception will not be made. Please, make sure to bring Gojo-san to school.” 

Megumi briefly, and for the very first time ever, mourns the fact that you and Satoru weren’t married. A small part of him calls the man a coward for not asking you to. If he’d simply taken the step, then Megumi would be able to pass you off as Gojo-san. Unfortunately, he can’t, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s no way around this problem. 

“Fine,” he grumbles. It takes all of his remaining willpower to not stomp out of the classroom. Once again, he thinks of you. It’d be extremely bad manners. He can’t find it in himself to wish his teacher a nice day this time, though, and so she’ll have to make due with a slightly less polite Megumi for today. 

There’s nothing he can do about it. Satoru will have to come to the school. 

Megumi suddenly despises the idea of Career Day. 

“I need you to come to my school next week.” 

Immediately, all chatter around the dining table stops. For once, Megumi finds himself annoyed at the sudden appearance of silence. Before he said it, he knew his words would most likely have such an effect—he just didn’t expect it to be so instant. 

He tries his best to feign nonchalance, as if the topic that’s coming up didn’t make him feel stressed-out beyond belief. The confused, startled glances you and Satoru share don’t do much to help him, either. Perhaps it’s because Megumi is looking straight at him; him instead of you. Yeah, Satoru, he isn’t a fan of it, either. 

“Me?” The man asks then, and Megumi has to resist the urge to say, ‘no, I meant the snail in the backyard—yes, you,’ in the most sarcastic voice he can muster up. Satoru once again steals a look at you, ever so oblivious to Megumi's mental remarks. “Don’t you mean—” 

“I don’t,” Megumi cuts him off solemnly. His lips are pursed shut, and he pokes the slices of pork belly in his bowl with his chopsticks. One didn’t need to be of particularly high intelligence to notice the boy’s displeasure.  “I have to bring a male figure for Career Day.” 

It’s slow, the morphing of Satoru’s face, but it happens gradually and doesn’t stop until he’s positively beaming. Megumi doesn’t like it one bit. Nothing good happens when he looks like that, and he’s quite sure that all that will spew out of his mouth in a few seconds will be nothing except for pure nonsense. 

“Well, luckily, I will have the day off, then!” Satoru chimes, with a smile so wide it causes two dimples to appear on his cheeks. You copy his smile, and gently go to poke the little dent in his skin—Satoru lets you, as he always does. Megumi would think of it as cute if he weren’t so annoyed. “I will be there.” 

It seems he was right. Satoru’s words are pure nonsense.

“I didn’t tell you when,” he comments dryly. 

The sorcerer blinks. His smile is still on his face, but it’s fading, and the dimples do so with it. Your hand hovers halfway in the air, stuck with nothing to poke, and you slowly bring it back down to your side. It seems neither of you had taken time to think about that small fact—Megumi blames Satoru for dragging you down with him; him and those indentations in his cheek that you always seem to coo over. 

“Oh,” Satoru mumbles. A crease between his brows forms as his brain hurries to catch up with the newfound information. A few seconds pass, and then the previous bravado returns. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I can take the day off. When do you need me? Tell me, and I’ll be there.” 

Megumi very much doubts he can take days off all willy-nilly like that, especially after he pushed his workload onto someone else to attend his science fair last time, but then again, what does he know? If Satoru didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, then Megumi wasn’t about to break his own head doing so, either. 

“Next Friday,” he mumbles. From the tone of his voice, it’s quite clear that he’d rather be saying anything else. “We have to leave at eight a.m., please, be on time.”

“Sure thing!” Satoru chimes, and with that, Megumi thinks the dreaded conversation has finally come to an end. 

All in all—it could’ve gone worse. At least Satoru didn’t prolong it unnecessarily. Nor did he add a bunch of relentless teasing. He glances at the sorcerer. Satoru is happily munching on the dinner you’d prepared, both his cheeks stuffed full with entirely too much rice. It’s unbecoming, and a reflection of his poor manners, Megumi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how you look at the man with such hearts in your eyes. 

Though, your more than adequate cooking seems to have saved him from one of Satoru’s onslaughts. He’s grateful. Even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight in front of him. 

“Hey, ‘toru?” You ask, breaking the silence with a slight hesitation to your voice. It nearly sounds nervous, and both Megumi and Tsumiki look up in alarm. Satoru hums, still chewing away. “What are you going to tell the class?”

Satoru stops eating. His chewing comes to a halt, and his chopsticks freeze in the air. A slice of pork drops from between them, and falls back into his bowl—It’s not hard to see the cogs turning in his head. “Uhm, I. . .” He swallows the food still in his mouth, and clears his throat. 

Right. It’s Career Day—but Satoru can’t tell a bunch of seven to eight-year-olds that he hunts and kills grimy, ugly, and freakishly scary curses for a living, now, can he? Megumi doesn’t think that would go over well with the other parents. The boy sighs. It’s just one thing after another. He grimly believes the world might just be out to get him. 

“I. . .Oh! I can tell them I’m a teacher,” his guardian scrambles for a solution, and Megumi can’t help but think it’s a little lack-lustre. Who would believe that guy is a teacher, anyway? Then again. . .Megumi doesn’t know a better fix for their current problem, either. He was so focused on the fact that it was Satoru that had to come to the school, he all but forgot about the fact that the dear thorn-in-his-side didn’t possess a normal job. “Suguru has told me a thing or two about his internship. I can take inspiration from there.”

Ah, yes. The famed Suguru Geto. Megumi has met him before. He hasn’t actually spoken to him, however. The man often visits, and has twin girls clinging to him when he does, and while Tsumiki seems to really like him—and them—Megumi doesn’t have an interest in seeking out some form of interaction, yet. Whenever he comes over, Megumi opts to hide in his room. Suguru never tries to disturb him, nor does he try to coax him into coming out. He’s very grateful for it. 

So, despite never speaking to him, Megumi knows about Suguru. Well, he knows enough. He knows Suguru went to school with the two of you, and he knows something really, very bad (nearly) happened that caused the man to take a step back from the world you all live in. What exactly happened (or what didn’t happen), Megumi doesn’t know for sure. You and Satoru almost never speak about it, and when you do, it’s in hushed voices—and you always stop immediately when he enters the room. 

But that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. Suguru doesn’t force himself upon Megumi, and so he will extend him the same courtesy.  “I thought Geto-san wasn’t a teacher, yet?” Tsumiki speaks up from beside him, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Mimi and Nana said he’s still learning. How can he be teaching, already?” 

“He’s not a teacher, yet, munchkin, well spotted,” Satoru answers with a proud grin. The nickname annoys Megumi—the feeling of irritation has been conditioned into his very being after Satoru chose it as the designated nickname for both of them. “An internship helps him build experience in the field. It means he is still learning, but he will do so while teaching.”

Tsumiki nods in understanding, her mouth opens and her lips curl into a small ‘ah’ as the information settles in. “So, you will pretend to be a teacher, then? At Megumi’s school?”

Satoru bites on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Seemingly—as Megumi is quite convinced he doesn’t ever think before he speaks. “I think so, yes,” he explains, and unknowingly retorates Megumi’s train of thoughts. How annoying. Satoru looks towards you for approval; it’s something he does very often. “It’s probably the safest route, no?”

“It’s our best option,” you say, and bring a thumb up to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Gently, you wipe away a grain of rice stuck to his skin. It’s effortless, and nearly automated. Megumi wonders how many times you’ve had to do that. “Pretending to be a teacher shouldn’t be too difficult a task. Right, mochi?”

“Right,” Satoru echoes. His eyes track your every move, and the slight, pink colouring of his cheeks doesn’t seem to embarrass him even a little bit. Megumi thinks it should. Have some decorum. “I can do it, no problem.” 

“Alright then,” you say, and smile. First at Satoru, and then at Megumi. You look at the boy for a few seconds; you’re about to ask him if he’s okay with it. He knows you are, because you always do. “Is that okay for you, Megumi?” It’s like clockwork, almost. 

Megumi feels the need to answer with something snarky. Something akin to the sound of ‘What choice do I have?’ but he doesn’t—because you’re being kind, and you don’t deserve such a response. So, instead he turns towards Satoru.

“. . .Just don’t mess it up.” 

Satoru delivers a whole spiel about how ‘he’d never do that’ and that he’s ‘more than capable’ of telling a little white lie, but Megumi dilutes it to background noise rather quickly. He continues sputtering his nonsense when Megumi and Tsumiki stand up to clear the table, and still hasn’t stopped even when you and him start loading the dishwasher together—Megumi chooses to seek reprieve in his room while he’s distracted. 

It isn’t until many hours later, when Megumi leaves the sanctuary of his room to swipe a quick snack from the kitchen, that he first hears Satoru speak about something other than his great, and very much sufficient, ‘capabilities’. Your voices are muffled, and Megumi has to focus to make out your words. His soft, inaudible padding down the illuminated hallways comes to a halt. As if that would make his ears function better. 

“Are you sure you want to do this, Satoru?”

The boy frowns. With such gentleness in your voice, it’s hard to identify the worry lingering beneath the surface. Megumi moves a bit closer. He stops one step shy of bumping into the wooden surface, and peeks through the groove. The door is ajar—it’s something that allows him to watch how your eyes follow Satoru’s large frame as he paces around the room. It’s strange. Seeing him so. . .frazzled. 

Satoru nods. “I can do this, I know I can,” he says, and quits his pacing to look at you. Megumi can’t see his face, but he can see yours. He might as well not have, though, as he can’t make out the emotion that fills your eyes. It’s not one he himself has in his repertoire, that he knows for sure. “He never asks me for anything, princess. I have to do this right.” 

Ah, this isn’t a conversation Megumi is meant to hear. He should probably seize his eavesdropping, he thinks, and winces a little when he properly analyses Satoru’s words. They’re truthful. Megumi doesn’t go to him when he needs something. His first thought is to go to you—and his second, Tsumiki. And if he’s being honest anyway, his third thought very likely isn’t Satoru, either; He’d try to solve it on his own if it came down to it. Megumi frowns again. He doesn’t like how that realisation makes him feel. 

A careful shuffle of footsteps breaks him free from his thoughts. Megumi looks up, and catches how you place a hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll do great, baby,” you mumble. There’s a small, soft smile on your lips, one that quickly makes way for the peck Satoru places upon them. 

“Thank you,” Satoru whispers. One of his hands reaches for yours, and Megumi suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something when the man brings them up to his lips to press a tender kiss to them. Okay, no, definitely intruding—ew. 

The boy scrunches his nose up in disgust, and hurriedly darts back towards his room. Suddenly, he has lost his appetite for a late-evening snack. Megumi lets out a deep sigh once he’s all tucked into his sheets again. Perhaps giving Satoru a shot wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Just one, though.

. . .Yeah, just one should be enough.

It’s the final, conclusive thought Megumi has before dozing off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the conversation you and Satoru share—now behind a very closed door.

You stifle a giggle. The disappearance of Megumi’s presence outside your bedroom was quick and rampant as soon as Satoru started to kiss your hands. Something the sorcerer did very deliberately. It’s as if the boy suddenly forgot about the very special, very effective pair of eyes his guardian possesses. And with a cursed energy output such as Megumi’s, it would be hard not to recognise his presence.

“You did that on purpose,” you comment. “How cruel of you, mochi.”

Satoru hums, and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Maybe, the little brat shouldn’t eavesdrop, then,” he defends himself. There isn’t an inkling of guilt to be seen on his pretty face.

. . .Though, both of you still take some extra care to shut the door next time.

Megumi faithfully believes that, as of today, he has used-up all of his luck for the next five, no, ten years. It can only go downhill from here. For some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason—Satoru is actually pulling this off. That’s not all; he’s not merely winging it, he’s genuinely doing well. The boy can’t quite believe his eyes.

When he’d walked to the front with such an overexaggerated pep in his step, and an overabundance of bravado rolling off of him in waves—Megumi couldn’t help but watch on with a grim look, and a healthy dose of negative thoughts. It only amplified the nerves he’d collected so far during the walk to school. Somehow, watching Satoru give your flashcards a frantic do-over did very little to ease his bubbling anxiety.

There were many of them, flashcards that is. All possible questions his peers or his teacher could ever think of are written on those little pieces of cardboard. Courtesy of you, and your boyfriend. Megumi’s able to recall all those nights the two of you spend at the kitchen table—practising. He thought it was silly at the time.

But, as it turns out, it works.

Satoru is fun. To other people; Megumi doesn’t share the sentiment. Against all odds, he’s dynamic, and speaks with conviction. His flamboyant hand gestures have others think of them as amusing—captivating, even. Satoru is talking, and they’re all hanging onto his every word. No matter the fact that they’re all cleverly disguised lies.

Megumi can’t wrap his head around it. He doesn’t need to, however. If anything, he’s relieved that his peers think of his guardian as cool. While he certainly does not share the opinion, he isn’t too dense to admit that such a belief will save him a lot of embarrassment in the future. So, for this one, single day, he will let Satoru Gojo be cool. His snarky comments can resume tomorrow.

“Ah, it seems you have a deep love for your profession, Gojo-san,” his teacher says. She interrupts Satoru’s rant, and catches his attention as well as Megumi’s. Her voice is light and airy, and carries nothing that should cause him to fear the worst. Still, the boy feels on edge. “Though, I don’t remember the grade you are teaching. Could you tell us, again?”

Ah, and there it goes. The very first card in the elaborately built castle of lies.

Satoru pauses. A second passes, and then two, and three, and so on. He doesn’t speak for a good thirty, and Megumi can nearly see his mind leaf through his beloved flashcards—flashcards that are now neatly tucked into his pockets and entirely out of reach. That’s good. Because the absolute last thing Satoru should do now, is resort back to the flashcards.

Megumi shakes his head no as a signal.

“Ah,” Satoru says. “I teach kindergarten.”

Satoru didn’t catch the hint. Megumi wishes the ground would swallow him up. It would have been the correct answer—it is the answer that’s written on the flashcards—if Satoru hadn’t decided to go off route. Getting too caught up in the story he’d been free-writing, and allowing himself to get carried away by the looks of awe is resulting in his downfall, which, consecutively, will end with Megumi’s downfall, as well.

“Huh? But! What about the science experiment that exploded?” One of the children in his class whines. “I didn’t get to do that in kindergarten!”

“And the backflip you taught your students!”

“What about the first prize in the talent show? I thought your students were famous!”

The little bit of colour that normally resides in Satoru’s face steadily disappears, and he clenches his fist at his side. Ah, it’s great to know he’s at least aware of his mistake. That won’t help either of them at the moment, though. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a feeling of distress overtakes him. It shows on his face. He doesn’t exactly go through the trouble of trying to hide it—there are bigger problems right now.

How utterly humiliating to be caught lying.

Satoru’s eyes find him. They’re just as troubled as his own. It worsens his anxiety.

“Oh, uhm, you see. . .” Satoru stammers, and Megumi’s stomach churns when the children around them continue to ask more and more questions. The wince his guardian lets out does little to soothe him. Megumi sighs, and looks at the ground. “Ah, I see. It seems you guys saw right through me.”

Megumi slides down in his seat. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, the ground would absorb him. It’s currently looking like a preferable fate.

“. . .I’m actually a detective.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

“And. . .And for a detective, it’s very important to listen to what people say, because they could be lying!”

It’s a sad, pathetic excuse for a save. Megumi briefly ponders the distance between his seat and the door. Perhaps he could make a run for it. The subway station is very close by—getting on and travelling to an entirely new city to start a new life doesn’t seem like such a bad option. He sighs. No, that’s not possible. You and Tsumiki would be very worried. What else is there to do, though?

“You all picked up on my lie, which tells me every single one of you could make a great detective in the future.”

Megumi thinks Satoru might have some underlying mental problems. Though, they can’t possibly be as severe as the problems his classmates have—for they all believe the nonsense he’s giving them. Bright eyes, filled with hope and admiration, stare up at the man at the front of the class; impressed hums and entertained smiles get passed between the parents standing at the edge of the room. And Satoru, well, he seems entirely too proud of the fact that he made a bunch of children think they’re destined for a career in law enforcement. But, be that as it may, it works.

The children stir up unrest—the good kind this time, the kind that vocalises their excitement—and all rush to ask the detective a question. But, before they can even open their mouths, Satoru claps his hands together. It seems he has decided enough is enough, and it’s one of those very rare moments where Megumi agrees with him. The boy needs this to be over already.

“Alright, that’s it for today,” Satoru says, and feigns disappointment. He pretends to be affected by the sad groans of the children—keyword being pretend, as to the trained eye it’s quite clear that he wishes to leave. “I’m not allowed to tell you more.”

Ah, see, now that’s a good card.

“Wait, but, what about. . .”

“Ah, sorry, that’s confidential. Detective stuff, y’know?”

Confidential. Megumi thinks that might just be his new favourite word. The lingering feeling of anxiety slowly starts to subside with every step Satoru takes towards the back of the room—to the back, and away from the spotlight. His eyes follow the man’s large frame, but Satoru never chooses to look at him in return. His line of sight is firmly focused on the floor. It confuses Megumi, but he chalks it up to a mere whim.

All things considered (and minus the near cardiac arrest he went through), today went pretty well, after all. Much to his surprise.

Perhaps Megumi doesn’t hate Career Day. A strong dislike is more like it.

Megumi can’t count the times he wished for Satoru to be quiet. The exact number is much like the digits of Pi—huge, and absolutely never-ending. He can, however, count the times he didn’t wish for him to be quiet. As of today, that stands at a very solid one.

The birds around them chirp, and the bustle of other people is heard all around them—but they’re the only sounds gracing his ears. There is none of Satoru’s incessant chatter, nor is there even a glimmer of gloating about a job well-done. It’s eerily silent, and Megumi isn’t sure what to make of it. This isn’t quite how he imagined the walk home to go. Far from it, if he’s being honest.

“What’s up with you?”

It’s possibly the first time Megumi decides to break the silence, ever. The boy frowns, and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. There isn’t a middle-ground with Satoru, he has found out. Either he speaks entirely too much, or unnervingly little. There’s a tiny pebble in his path, and Megumi feels the need to kick it forward—so he does.

“I kind of messed up there, huh?”

The kick doesn’t have nearly enough force to it. Megumi watches as the little rock skips forward. Once, twice, and then it comes to a standstill again. “Yeah, kind of,” he agrees.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru rushes out. It’s said so fast, as if it physically pains him to say it. Perhaps it does. It’s sincere, however. There isn’t even a hint of a joke to be found. Something must be bothering him. “It didn’t go how I wanted it to go, and I don’t know why I went astray, and forgot about the cards. It—well, it was pretty stupid.”

Megumi doesn’t exactly feel the need to deny it.

“So, I get it, okay?” He continues, seeing the boy’s silence as an empty space for more conversation—more rambling. Since that’s what it is; rambles, plain and simple. Megumi doesn’t see the need for such a fuss. “I shouldn’t have strayed from the plan, and. . .”

“It’s fine.”

Satoru blinks at him. “What?”

“I said it’s fine,” Megumi repeats. Because it really is fine. Admittedly, it wasn’t smart of Satoru to all but discard your carefully planned presentation, but it ended well enough regardless. No harm, no foul. “Thank you for coming.”

That small, short sentence is enough to stop Satoru in his tracks. Megumi doesn’t, however. The man is very tall, he’s sure to catch up in a jiffy; he doesn’t need him to wait. There’s another small silence, though this one feels a lot more comfortable than the last. Satoru takes his time to process, and Megumi lets him.

“W—What?” The sorcerer stammers in shock. There is no need for Megumi to turn around and see—he can hear the smile curling onto his lips. “Did you just. . .”

“I won’t say it again,” Megumi grumbles definitively, and picks up his pace. The very tips of his ears heat up, and the apples of his cheeks turn red. The feeling of embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned it to appear when the day started.

Satoru attempts to run after him, to catch up. “Megumi!” He calls out, the very prominent, very familiar whiney lilt now back in his voice. Megumi didn’t miss it. “Wait for me, I didn’t hear you! Could you repeat that?”

“Yes, you did!” Megumi says, and throws him an annoyed glance from over his shoulder. He tightens his hold on the straps of his backpack. “Stop lying.”

“Nuh uh!”

“What are you? Six?”

Satoru’s toothy grin is infuriating. But—it’s familiar. And Megumi discovers he’s much more at ease when that grin is on display, than when the man in question is moping around. It’s a lot less alarming.

“And a half,” Satoru adds.

The scowl that’s on Megumi’s face appears almost instantly when he goes to ruffle his hair. For a man whose technique largely surrounds being untouchable, he has a surprising lack of awareness concerning this thing called personal space.

“Ugh,” Megumi groans, and pushes him off. It doesn’t work. Satoru gravitates towards him again—almost as if he’s a magnet. He doesn’t attempt to move a second time. In moments like these, it’s best to let Satoru get it all out of his system. “You’re so stupid.”

It’s true. He does think Satoru is stupid, but he can’t deny it—Satoru tried his very best today, and in the days prior. Which makes him one of the very small, barely existent group of people who have done so for him.

It seems one shot was enough, after all.

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

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[earthtooz]

x : MORE :*+ﾟ

in which: rin's not happy with your decision to sleep on the couch.

warnings: cliché lol, 1.1k, hurt/comfort, gn!reader, unedited + ooc!rin towards the end, a lot of metaphors but hey one cliché leads to another.

a/n: this is practice for me to a) get back into writing and b) remind u guys that i am still writing luls, enjoy!! reblogs r vv appreciated, but this quality is actually so ass.

“are you sure you want to sleep out here tonight?” rin’s voice asks from the hallway entrance, slight concern laced in his tone as he watches your backside set up on the couch, fidgeting with the pillows and blankets.

“yeah, i’m positive,” you answer, not turning around to look at him; something rin frowns at. 

“oh…” he mutters, leaning awkwardly on the wall as he scours his brain to try and find something to say. “really?”

“yes, really.”

“won’t you be uncomfortable?”

“i’ll be fine. it’s not that bad here.”

“if you’re sure.”

silence cuts the conversation with a cold knife, leaving the two of you in the suffocating quiet, one that stops rin from instigating further conversation despite how badly he wanted to continue. because if he shuts up then that means he has to leave, but he doesn’t want to leave you alone. he wants you to come to bed so the two of you can sleep peacefully together and not (what feels like) eons apart where he can’t hold you.

“are you going to go to bed? it’s getting late,” you ask, no hint of hostility at all in your tone as you shuffle under the covers, disappearing from rin’s view completely. 

he bites the inside of his cheek, disheartened at your eagerness to see him go. “oh, right. goodnight.”

he lingers for a second longer, waiting for a ‘goodnight’ back, or even better, an ‘i love you’, but neither comes and rin feels his chest contract. 

rin didn’t mean for the argument to escalate, he didn’t mean to sharpen his words and pierce you with them, he didn’t mean to hurt you to the point that you didn’t want to sleep beside him.

as he slowly makes his way to your shared bedroom, your absence on your side of the bed hits him even harder. it’s cold. it’s empty. it’s void. rin loathes it.

you’re not faring much better, replaying the argument in your head over and over again as the small, coffee table lamp illuminates the room with a warm yellow. each replay of the memory just twists the knife further and causes a new batch of tears to wet your eyes. 

you hate this. you hate feeling weary around rin, you hate feeling like you need to walk on egg shells around him from now on, you hate feeling like he doesn’t value you the same way you do with him, you hate these new revelations coming to your brain as you reflect on your relationship-

“you’re still awake?” a voice comes from the hallway.

leaning up onto your elbows, you blink in shock at the new figure making itself known. thanks to the lamp, you can see rin from where he stands, and you can see the confusion in his eyes.

“uh… yeah,” you say.

“why are you still up?”

“i was thinking. why are you still up?”

“i…” rin hesitates for a second, “i wanted to check up on you.”

your heart flutters at his shy confession. “i’m fine, thank you.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.”

“why, are you not fine?”

no, he’s not. he wants you to come back to bed, he wants you to reassure him that the two of you will still be okay, he wants you.

“no,” lies rin. “i’m okay.”

the soccer player regrets his words instantly. 

“that’s good. i’m gonna sleep now and you should too, you have a big day tomorrow.”

but rin can’t sleep. not without you beside him because otherwise, the bed is too vacant and too chilly and reminds him of the life he used to live too much.

and he’s scared that he’ll have to go back to living like that if you’re not there beside him, petrified that you’ll leave in the middle of the night because you’ve realised that he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you. 

instead of confessing that, the dark-haired merely sighs, the words lodging themselves in his throat. “okay. i’m off.”

you reach over to turn off the lamp, engulfing the room in darkness with a single click. “goodnight, rin.”

“i love you,” rin confesses, but it’s too quiet and too breathy for you to hear, so there’s no response. he hopes you know.

so, he retreats back into the barren wasteland that is your shared bedroom. he misses you. he reaches over to your side in hopes of being to feel some remnants of comfort.

30 minutes later, rin wakes again after weaving in and out of consciousness and he’s sick of it. it’s 1:10am and he only has five hours until he needs to get up. decisively, he throws the cover off of him and makes his way to the living room, intent on this trip being his last one. 

it’s dark in the living room and rin can’t find it in him to turn on a light and disturb your slumber, so after adjusting to the dark and mindlessly patting around, he eventually threads his arms underneath you. he lifts you up so effortlessly, driven by determination and love as he walks to familiar path back to your shared bedroom.

he settles you down gently and the last thing rin remembers before drifting off is the warming feeling of content as he pulls you into his arms. 

the following morning, you rouse to the sound of a blaring alarm; the one rin always uses because otherwise gentle alarms won’t coax him successfully. your lover shuffles beside you, shutting the clock off with a groan before wrapping an arm around you again, pulling you into his warmth.

wait.

you raise yourself up onto your elbows, dazed and confused. weren’t you meant to be on the couch?

“don’t go,” rin murmurs, snaking his arm up to wrap your shoulders instead, gently guiding you down to the mattress, “sleep.”

“how did i get here?” you ask and rin stiffens before pulling you in to his chest. “rin, i’m being serious.”

“you were always here.”

“don’t lie to me.”

“i’m not lying, so let’s sleep.”

you’re sick of his shit. “itoshi rin, i swear to-”

“i carried you back here, now shut up. i only have 10 minutes before i have to get up and get ready.” 

“i think i’ll go back to the couch, actually,” you say jokingly.

“not funny.”

“i think it’s plenty funny.”

he frowns, wrapping himself around you even tighter. you don’t hug him back, but you’re here and that’s all that matters to rin. you didn’t leave like he thought you would. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, “for last night. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“it’s okay, rin, we can talk about it later.” 

“we’re okay right?” 

“of course.”

“you… you won’t leave. right?”

“i would never. why would you think i would?” 

“just being stupid, i guess.”

“better you than me.”

he huffs, letting the conversation die to silence.

you speak up again, “i love you.” 

rin feels a weight lift off his shoulders. he can breathe again.

“i love you more.” 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.