#also I hate that the periods make it seem like I think I’m making a point

[aizawashuichi]

Near isn’t shown to have any resentment towards Linda and Roger during or after them giving his and Mello’s facial composites to Light, and Roger even becomes Watari after the Kira case. So, I feel like it’s safe to assume that what they did wasn’t as bad as it’s presented, and the only reason in my opinion is because Near instructed them to do that. Just the fact that he then lets Roger to become his right hand tells me that he does trust him, otherwise it would be out of character to get someone that betrayed him (and Mello) to work so closely to him, able to compromise L’s identity.

But even if Near didn’t tell them anything, let’s look it from Roger’s perspective. He watched this genius child grow and become this undefeated beast, a synonym of stability (sort of). As long as L was alive, nobody could take over the world. After he died, that was possible, and it was scary to think that this person with this incredible power to kill people at distance was now free to act as they pleased.

The only contact we know he and L had was through the periodic press of a button to signal that he was still alive. I don’t think they (Watari included) had any regular calls, because otherwise, they wouldn’t need this system set in place (which makes me wonder why they didn’t talk anymore. In my Roger x Watari headcanon, it’s because their relationship grew cold after Watari chose L over him, which made him also hate children more than before, but canonically, we aren’t given any reason as to why Roger is no longer – or has never been – part of L’s actual work).

So, Roger didn’t know anything about the case, other than what was reported on the news, he knew very little about Kira, and had no clue who L thought Kira could be. He could only imagine it was someone who was physically close to him, as to know what L looked like (not because of the Death Note, since he didn’t know about it, but just to pinpoint who the detective was and target him), so I think he guessed they had to be someone in the NPA/Japanese Task Force (those that are working to “catch” Kira and/or have access to his computer in order to emulate him) that took over his role. He knows L enough to understand that he wouldn’t go out of his way to let a lot of people know his identity, only a handful, in strictly extraordinary circumstances, as this one. And this is something I don’t understand on Light’s part.

When learning from Aizawa and Matsuda that Roger knows that L is dead, why didn’t he find him a threat? It seems a bit odd that he wouldn’t question how he knows that and if L told him other stuff about the case, including his main suspect, but that’s irrelevant here.

In any case, I believe (correct me if I’m wrong) that when Aizawa and Matsuda showed up to Wammy’s, they presented themselves as people connected to the Kira case in some way or another, as to be credible and justify their sudden appearance, but even if they didn’t, they are still Japanese. Roger didn’t know L’s whereabouts directly from him, but surely the news reported what L did in Kanto after it happened, and that’s why he knows he was killed by Kira. That, or L would actually report where he is, when moving for a case.

Without any instruction from Near, I think his actions are somewhat justifiable: his position was extremely risky, because he could be in front of a possible Kira, that could kill him or the kids (to threaten him or whatever). As much as he hated kids, I don’t think he was insensitive to the possibility of a mass murder. A mass murder which nobody would find out about unless either Near failed to get in contact with him or someone passed by that place.

In his eyes, in this scenario, putting up any kind of resistance meant only the worst, so he did what he could to ensure his and the kids’ safety, which I think Near could see as understandable.

In my opinion, though, they were in constant contact or, at least, Near asked Roger to be updated in case Mello came back there or if someone showed up, asking him information about them, and he gave him some instructions or warnings just in case.

Near, at this point in the timeline, didn’t know Light directly nor he knew what he looked like, so he could only relate to him what he knew regarding the method of killing and instruct him on how to act, if someone went there.

I seriously think that whatever happened at the Wammy’s House that day was orchestrated in advance to go in a certain way, because it was Near who decided to tell Light about the Wammy’s House, which he wouldn’t do if he knew that there was ACTUAL information that could get Kira to kill them.

It’s hard for me to believe that Roger didn’t know the kids’ names, because surely, he should have the documents that assess their existence into this world. They didn’t spawn out of the blue in the orphanage and if Watari went to look for them or if someone sent them to the Wammy’s, they had to have a birth certificates, medical record, etc. with them. And when Roger took Wammy’s place as the head, he had access to them. Watari couldn’t be the only one in their possess, because otherwise e.g. they couldn’t even go to the emergency room if they needed to. I don’t know why Matsuda and Aizawa didn’t question this part, but to me Roger hid all these documents somewhere, so if they searched Watari’s (now his) office, they wouldn’t be able to find anything.

In the end, I think Roger gave them what they asked for, but without revealing too much, so that he could convince them he was being truthful and collaborative, when he wasn’t (at least, in part), thanks to Near’s help that told him what information he could give out.

I don’t know how much of a stretch is to say that it was all Near’s plan to get a hold of Mello, but we know that Near wants Kira to approach him in some way and giving him information he has decided prior on if it was detrimental or not is the best way. Maybe he contacted Roger as a preventive measure, but then decided he could use that for his own gain.

About Linda, I think she was at the Wammy’s at this moment, because they didn’t say Roger provided them with her contact, so it wouldn’t be hard to tell her what to do. Not sure about this, but giving them their facial composite wasn’t seen as something dangerous, because he didn’t know about the eyes. It just helped Roger to seem collaborative.

[intromortal]

✷ LIQUID SWEETENER ⸻ sim jaeyun

jake takes care of his sick girlfriend, but with an unexpected twist.

this work contains ⋆ smut. mdni. established relationship, reader has a fever, she's very annoying tbh but it's bc she's ME! it's okay tho bc jake is equally as bad. spitting medicine in someone's mouth... is this sanitary? absolutely not but i also can't bring myself to care, fingering, praise, degradation (use of slut like once? and pet), he's mostly very sweet tho i promise, oral f!rec, squirting, mentions of free use, multiple orgasms, quick aftercare, jake comes untouched he's down bad sorry ! ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

length ⋆ oneshot ⸻ 5.2k words

✷ NIA — i finally got around to rewriting this omfg. this rewrite is for my sweet @heechwe and all the nonnies who asked for this to be posted again <3

It's not everyday Jake gets to take care of you, so when you're all sickly and weak, it's hard to evade his attentions no matter how hard you try.

Jake pouts when you shoot down yet another attempt to get you to take your medicine. "Why don't you just chug it? I promise it's not as bad as you think."

He’s been trying to get you to swallow at least a tiny dose of the sweet fever syrup for the best part of an hour, after every attempt to get you to down any kind of pill resulted in you hiding them somewhere underneath your cozy pajamas, against your burning skin.

"If it's not as bad as I think, why are you suggesting I just chug it?" Your voice is slightly muffled as you eye him suspiciously from under the heavy cover pulled up all the way to your nose.

"You're the one insisting it's disgusting without even trying it, I asked for the best flavor possible when I got it." He made sure to pick out a syrup that doesn't taste straight up radioactive, knowing you well enough to predict you’d make a big fuss about the nasty taste. Yeah, he can picture it right in his head, how you’d gag dramatically at the smell and just beg him to go get the tablets again—which you wouldn't agree to take anyway.

For how much you hate being sick, you seem to dislike the idea of getting better quickly even more.

“You would feel so much better if you just took your medicine,” he sighs, resting the cap filled to the brim with honey flavored syrup on the crowded comforter, careful not to leave it too close to the edge. He licks whatever residue is left on his sticky fingers. "Really not that bad. It's sweet."

"So it's not good either," you huff back, trying to wiggle yourself out of the cocoon of blankets Jake wrapped you in as soon as you fell asleep. "I'm not even that sick anyway.”

“Yeah?” Jake looks at you with an arched brow, then points his head to the little mountain of discarded, snot filled tissues overtaking your comforter, the ones he was in the middle of throwing away. “This right here is breeding grounds for bio terrorism allegations.”

He stops you from getting out of bed, securing the warm fuzzy covers around you again. “No need to leave, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” he whispers against your lashes, placing a soft kiss to your closed eyelid.

“Just wan’ you.”

His plump lips thin into that gorgeous wide smile of his as he speaks,“but you have me baby, I’m right here, yeah?”

He knows very well what you mean, and a frustrated grumble spills out of you at the thought. Cheeky bastard, of course he wants you to say the quiet part out loud. Neither of you is used to going without pleasuring each other for long periods of time, and anything longer than three days is eons according to Jake. You're surprised he's behaved as well as he has this past week, you thought he would be the one to cave in first.

“Want…more,” you crank one of your eyes open, struggling when a droplet from the wet towel on your forehead Jake promptly changed every fifteen minutes slips in it. You blink a few times, adjusting to the light in the room before looking over to Jake, his grin still wide and brightening up his whole face, his head turned to the side as he observes you lovingly, a strand of hair longer than the rest tickling the side of his nose.

If Jake has to be completely honest with himself, he's not particularly sad at you being a little sick. 

Sure, it sounds mean when he says it out loud, but you're not doing so badly or in any kind of pain that would worry him, and he enjoys doting on you like this, with you having no choice but to take his love. Can’t blame a man for wanting to take care of his girl, especially when said girl has a streak of refusing to just lay back and let him do the work. 

You're always hiding your pain and vulnerability from everyone around you, so he enjoys knowing he's helping make it at least a little better for once.

You—however—wouldn’t exactly agree that he's making you feel better, definitely not by walking around with damp hair from the shower and intoxicating the air around you with the lingering salty marine and musky notes of the cologne he always sprays on his fresh change of clothes. A smell you usually related to comfort and home, making your head spin in the best way possible, a whirlwind of anything but pure thoughts crowding your mind.

Jake takes notice of the subtle shift in the air around you right away. You had been–subtly at first—laying down little hints for him to pick up, you craved him. Had been craving him for what felt like forever, ever since you got sick. A nagging hunger that just grew further with every hour he silently ignored it.

Usually you would busy yourself with random tasks, keeping your thoughts clear of images of his hands, or his plush lips and how he always absentmindedly licks away at them or how—you get the idea. But being sick doesn't help, being physically weak and needing rest doesn't stop your mind from running wild. Made it worse, actually, since you have nothing to do but lay in your bed all day. If only he’d slide right next to you under your covers and—

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jake interrupts your thoughts, a hint of amusement shining through his smooth tone. You look up to him hopefully, breath caught in your chest fearing the next few words he's about to say. “And you’re still too sick.”

Really not being dramatic, but you're pretty sure a boulder just crushed you right on your chest. You groan, turning to the other side so you can properly sulk without having to look at Jake’s stupidly handsome face. A face you'd love to ride as soon as possible.

“No like, you actually hate me,” your voice is muffled by the pillow currently squished against your face.

“What are you even doing.”

“Trying to suffocate myself since my man hates me.” You grab the sides of the pillow and push them to cover your ears, making Jake erupt in a fit of boyish giggles. 

“No I don’t, just want you to feel better first,” he whispers, and the loving tone makes your body feel light.

You suddenly push yourself up with your arms to look at him, nest of hair a mess from the speed of your movement. “I would feel sooo much better with your fingers deep inside me right now.”

He looks at you for a moment, really looks at you, assessing what to do in this situation. He too misses your touch, far more than what he lets on. Even just sleeping next to you—a pillow fortress separating you two by your request—turned out to be too much for him on multiple occasions. He often found himself silently sneaking out of bed to go and take care of his sudden little problems in the bathroom, trying not to wake you up because he knew if you caught him he wouldn't be able to get out of your claws.

And you really need the rest.

As if sensing his resolve wavering, you add, “don’t I deserve a little reward?”

“A reward… for what?” Jake is thoroughly amused by your desperation. You rarely ever get like this, and he enjoys every second of it. You can tell because he's pushing it a little farther than what he usually would, ending up punishing himself a little along the way too. On any other occasion he would've been all over you before you could even finish your sentence. But Jake doesn't care, not when he doesn't know when the next time he gets to hear you beg a little for him is gonna be.

“Well of course! For having fought this fever tooth and nail and having come out of it alive.”

“You still have a fever though,” he says. “Could kick your ass right down at any given moment.”

“That.” You glare at him with all the fake anger you can muster up. “Is such a mean thing to even suggest.”

“Don’t you care about me getting sick? Made a scene all week and now you’re okay with me touching you?”

“First of all—I only made you keep the pillows between us the first two days. And like I told you, I feel better, so if—” the words die in your throat as you feet the bed dip underneath the weight of Jake’s knee.

"No, no. Keep talking." He slowly gets under the covers, and it's not because he's testing your reaction. His presence felt different, the soft look in his eyes overtaken by something more primal, and you couldn't help but feel like prey under his watchful gaze. It felt intimidating in a way you weren’t used to. It made you squeeze your legs together in search of any friction, your already feverish skin somehow feeling even hotter.

You try to hide the way you gulp, eyes still fixed on his body as he gets comfortable on his side, facing you.

“Maybe you’re right,” Jake whispers against your cheek, his nose rubbing for a moment on your skin as he sneaks an arm underneath your body, pulling you flush to his chest. Even just that single touch sends an electrifying shiver down your spine. “Since you’re fully capable of talking my ear off…”

You reach for his hand wrapped comfortably around your waist and guide it down to cup your heat through your thin shorts, your own hand resting on top of his as you grind against it.

"I suppose you've had enough rest."

You take notice of how his breath hitches in his throat, his carefully crafted mask of calmness slipping as you use his hand. The illusion wears off even more when he tries to hide it with a gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You know he wants it just as bad as you do, you're just willing to beg for it as long as it gets you what you want.

“I’ll—” you gasp when he flexes his fingers that tiny little bit you need to be able to feel them press against your fluttering hole. “I’ll do anything, just please make me cum.”

“Anything?” his voice is light and airy as he moves the fabric of the shorts out of his way. A deep chuckle tickles your neck, Jake’s mouth dipping down do leave open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin.

“Anything, just… please,” you whine, flexing your neck to allow him more space, his tongue dipping to lick a stripe down to the juncture of your neck.

Had you not been so deprived of Jake’s touch, you would have found the way you're grinding up against his hand and moaning in his ear almost embarrassing. But you're desperate, so you can't bring yourself to care too much about how pathetic you probably look to anyone else.

The only people in the room are you and Jake anyway, and he seems to be thoroughly enjoying it. His cock is stiff in his sweats, almost painfully so, from feeling how wet you are through your shorts. Dripping already and he barely touched you.

"You're so fucking hot. You know that?" Jake nibbles the shell of your ear, making you arch further in his hold. “You'll do anything you said? How about you take your medicine then?” He moves his hand from your mound to grip your thigh, ignoring your weak attempts at clawing his arm to get the little taste of pleasure he took away from you back.

He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing in faux disapproval. “Use your words. What will you do?”

“Take my medicine,” you whimper, looking into your boyfriend's eyes despite the tears aligning your waterline, and finding amusement swimming through his gaze. Little piece of shit. Not that you were about to complain or anything.

“Theeeere we go,” Jake sings in your ear, placing a soft kiss behind it before dipping down once again and resuming his sweet torture. “You can be good once in a while.”

You nod, lips thinning to keep quiet as if any wrong sound could make him change his mind and leave you hanging. The hand that was drawing circles on your thigh comes up to hold your chin, carefully tilting it away from Jake’s mouth as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot on your skin. He smooths over your lips with his thumb, coaxing them to part once again.

“Let me hear how good you feel, baby,” he mumbles, mouth still latched on your neck, before taking a strong whiff off your scent. Had you not been so distracted by the wetness seeping out of your clenching hole and soaking your panties, you would've noticed how his eyes rolled all the way back in his skull at your smell.

His free hand finally slides under your shorts,and a gasp leaves you because of how cold he feels. Jake is always warmer than you, but your fever makes it so his touch feels icy against your skin. Your back arches slightly when one of his digits parts your sopping folds, your sensitivity heightened by the unusual difference of temperature.

“Poor little thing, she’s got a fever too,” he giggles into your neck, another digit joining in as he slowly drags them from your clit to your hole to coat them in your juices. “But it’s okay, I’ll help her feel better.”

Usually, his stupid little jokes would’ve made you groan and push his face away. But this time—blame his voice for being deeper and hoarser than normal, or blame your fever—it makes you clench around nothing, cunt feeling emptier than ever while he takes his sweet time playing with you, savoring the moment.

Your head digs deeper into the pillow, hips lifting from the bed to follow Jake’s torturous movements, desperate to feel something more.

“So needy…” he breathes into your neck and goes back to placing sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever he can reach.

A yelp leaves your mouth, eyes you didn't even notice you closed shooting open when Jake bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, just enough to rip you out of the trance you were quickly falling into. He smooths over the little bite mark with this tongue, a tingly sensation overtaking the pain in a matter of seconds, the pleasure overriding anything else. 

Jake finally prods two of his digits into your hole, testing the waters, still careful not to push you too hard so soon. But your reaction is instantaneous, cunt fluttering against his fingertips right away. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep most of his noises in. “God… I fucking love it when you act like a little slut.”

Jake is so fucking turned on, he can barely think about anything but your pussy. The only thought in his mind is get her off, make her feel good, get a taste of her sweet cunt, sweet pretty and oh so delicious cunt… like a broken record. He feels like he was born for this and this only, as if his mission in life is just that of pleasing you. And to think he had deprived himself of such bliss for even a few days… Something in you seems different to him, almost animalistic, from the way you rut your hips against his hand as soon as he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, to the way you aren't even trying to hold in your moans like you usually would, mouth hanging open with a string of drool attached to your lips. And this is just from his fingers, he can do so much worse.

You yourself aren't doing any better, your brain basically turned to mush as you help Jake get you off by essentially riding his fingers, despite how weak you feel from the fever. His fingers are so long, hitting all the right spots you know you could never be able to reach by yourself, and his thick knuckles drag against your walls so deliciously.

“S-so good,” you gasp when he turns his fingers just the right way, hitting the spot he knows has you coming undone in just a few strokes.

The room is filled with the slapping sounds of his palm against your drenched cunt, more and more slick dripping down your thighs and onto the bed with every flick of his wrist, making it all that much more obscene and filthy. You can feel the familiar pressure building up in your tummy, and suddenly the overwhelming need to just grab onto something crashes on you, heavy and almost painful. You claw at his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in deep pleasure, unaware of the fact that Jake is not facing you anymore.

He looks at the comforter, over his shoulder. The cap filled with syrup is still there amidst the mess. He twists his body to grab it, careful not to slow down the relentless pace he's fingerfucking your cunt at. A few drops of the liquid spill onto his shirt as he takes a sip of it, a grimace overtaking his features as he tries his best to hold it in his mouth. You're still a moaning mess by his side, tiny brain turned to putty to the point you don't even register anything else happening around you, so hyper focused on the pleasure your boyfriend is providing you with.

“J-Jake, I’m so close.”

Perfect timing.

Jake grabs your jaw to turn your head towards his, applying the pressure you've learned means it is time to part your pretty lips and take his spit, like the good well behaved girl he know you to be. And you do just that; immediately following his movements like he trained you to, tongue sticking out too for good measure.

He bends down slightly to aim better, but this time, instead of the slightly bitter taste of his saliva you expect, he lets small amounts of medicine fall on your tongue.

You uselessly try to back away from him, but he holds you in place, fingers still working inside your cunt. Nor does he allow you to close your mouth despite your surprised gasp. His hand holds your jaw open, grasp getting firmer every time you try to break free from it. After all, you made a promise, and Jake's going to make sure you fulfill it.

“You weren't going to take it, huh?” Jake mouths against your lips once he makes sure you swallowed every last drop of the thick honeyed syrup, holding eye contact with you through it all, fingers never once slowing down their pace. “Little dumb pet thinks she can outsmart me.”

He smashes his mouth on yours, not so much a kiss but a silencing of any complaint you're about to spit at him. Those turn to even more whines when he finally brings his thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles on it as he fucks you to your orgasm. It's almost instantaneous, you were so close already, his stiff cock rubbing against your thigh and his pants hot in your mouth, but his thumb so cold against your neglected clit.

“That’s it baby, so good for me, yeah.” Jake’s fingers gradually slow down inside you, making sure you got every last bit of pleasure you could possibly experience from this high. He too relishes in how your cunt pulses around his digits, making it harder to move them inside you. Oh, he wishes it was his cock being constricted like that instead, but that can wait.

You finally feel like you can breathe again, chest heaving to catch in as much air as you possibly can, forehead all sweaty from the exertion.

The sheets are drenched around you, and you can't even pinpoint when it happened, but you can immediately tell you aren't the only one who made a mess. Your gaze wanders to Jake’s pants, and a very evident stain on his crotch catches your attention. And fuck, if you aren't ready to do it all over again.

Jake looks absolutely divine; hair disheveled and soaked from the sweat, boxers and sweatpants full of cum. A waste, truly.

You sneak your hand in his pants, ignoring the loud hiss from overstimulation Jake lets out when you wrap your hand around his cock and pump a few times, your thumb swiping on his exposed head to collect some of the cum covering it.

Jake watches you, mouth ajar and cock stiffening again right away, as you lick your fingers clean. He slides his own fingers out of your cunt, lapping at them like a man starved, hoping to work you up just as much as you did him. His heart races in his chest as you keep looking at him, a little smile playing on your lips.

“That was so…” you speak up, giggling when Jake interrupts you by throwing himself over your figure, capturing your lips in an actual kiss this time. A very messy, very wet kiss. Allowing you to savor your own taste mixed with his and sweetened by the medicine.

“I think the word you’re looking for is hot.”

“Dramatic,” you interjected. “So, so dramatic.”

Jake curls an eyebrow at you. “You were the one acting like it’d kill you to swallow some syrup. And actually, let’s not forget–” He places a quick kiss on your nose before pushing you against the mattress further, his entire weight on you. “Ohhh no Jake! Please my Jakey! If I don’t get your cock right now I will DIE!”

“Well I still hav–” 

“And won’t.” he deadpans, sensing where you're trying to stir the conversation. “But I’ve got a few ideas.”

You smile to yourself, feeling feather light kisses making their way down your body, with his messy hair tickling your skin every so often. He places a soft kiss on your mound, whining dramatically when you grab a few strands of his hair to stop him. He rests his head on your thigh, puppy-like eyes looking up at you, almost pleading for permission to continue what he started.

“I really don’t want you to get sick,” you say, voice coming out in a whisper full of care, your fingertips playing with his hair and enjoying the way he nuzzles his head further against your skin.

“Well if I were to get sick by touching you… I’d say the deal is sealed by now, no?” He places another kiss on your thigh, teeth slightly grazing the plush skin when you take too long to contemplate whether to give in or not. “Actually, I think some of this syrup would heal me right now.”

“Jake. I’m being serious.”

“What could I possibly even catch from eating you out that I haven't already by exchanging spit with you? Best pussy in the world disease?” He laughs at his own joke, gaining a roll of the eyes from you. “Let me tell you, the chances of that happening are close to zero anyway. I don’t have a pussy but I am the proud owner of a very fat co–”

“You are downright insufferable.”

“Okay so shut me up with a mouthful of this pu–”

The rest of the sentence is muffled against your mound as you push his head down, deciding you heard enough for the day. And the week.

“Okay, okay. Go on,” you giggle as you lay back once again, a deep sigh following as soon as his expert tongue makes contact with your cunt.

Jake's movements are slow and deliberate at first, as he takes his sweet time collecting all of the slick coating your lips and smearing it all over your skin. It's methodical in a way Jake very rarely is, nothing like the primal and messy mixing of his own spit with your arousal and grunting noises you're so used to. When he gets like this, it's purely to tease you.

You grab a fistful of his hair, the strands soft in your hand, and raise his head to force him to look at you.

You almost regret it when you're met with the sight of him licking his lips, his plump lips spreading in a grin that looks almost evil. His irises are entirely drowning in the dark of his pupils, and you'd be lying if you said it doesn't send a chill down your spine. The good kind, the type that also makes you clench your thighs against his frame.

"If you're gonna beg me to eat me out," you say, finding your strength again and being careful not to let Jake see any weakness on your features. "You better do it properly."

You try to keep a straight face when he erupts in a fit of giggles.

"Oooh, look at you—" he starts, clearly amused by your attempt to assert dominance. "I know what I'm doing. You know I know what I'm doing. It just seems to me that I've spoiled the princess a little too much lately." He lowers his head to your thighs, and litters soft kisses as he makes himself comfortable again. Somewhere along the lines, the harsh hold you had on his hair turned into your hand dragging him closer, but you can't pinpoint the exact moment.

Or you just really don't care to know, not when Jake starts lapping up at your cunt like he's starving.

"You taste so delicious, baby," he moans between licks, his nose pressing further into your heat with every movement of his. "So much better than any medicine. Fuck—you're gonna be my little cure from now on. Every time I'm sick, I'll just let you open your legs for me. You'd let me, baby. Wouldn't you?"

You nod vehemently, before realizing he can't see you. "Yes, please use me," you moan, spreading your thighs as far as you can while pushing his head closer to you, even when it's almost physically impossible for Jake to even breathe. Not that he would have it any other way.

The grip on his hair, the way you push and pull at it as if you have any command over the stimulation he's giving you, the way you sing for him with every flick of his tongue. It all makes Jake's head spin in the best way possible, his cock stiff again in his pants and throbbing against the very fabric he ruined with his cum only minutes before.

He grunts and moans into you, like he's the one being pleasured, and it all adds to the magic Jake is working on you. The vibrations only aiding in inching you closer to the second orgasm of the day.

"Jake, I'm close, please."

You don't need to say anything else, because he parts from your cunt for a single second. Just enough to let a gobble of his spit drip down right on your engorged clit, coating it in more shiny essence.

You're about the complain about the lack of stimulation, but he dives right back in, licking a singular stripe from your poor mess a of hole upwards. He can taste the remains of the syrup in his own spit still, and paired with the straight up divine taste of your own slick, Jake thinks he might be in heaven.

"So sweet, baby. So fucking sweet. It's like you want me to never stop fucking you with my tongue." He catches your little bundle of nerves between his raw lips, already wet with spit, suckling on it like he's trying to coax even more wetness out of you. He swirls his tongue around it, his eyebrows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration as he keeps toying and prodding at every single part of your pussy.

You're so unbelievably close to coming undone, every passing second just bringing you closer to the brink. All it takes to send you over the edge is Jake moaning with your numb right in his mouth, the small vibrations from it all you needed for the searing white feeling to envelop you completely, the familiar silent yet still deafening tingly sensation spreading from your core to all the limbs in your body.

Jake keeps lapping up all your generous body gives him, thankful for it all and careful not to let a single drop go to waste.

Your arm is thrown over your eyes as you catch your breath, this second orgasm completely emptying you of whatever energy you had left. Usually you would offer Jake to help him out as a little thank you, even though he told you time and time again that it wasn't needed and pleasing you what was got him off in the first place.

But as much as you denied it initially, the fever did take a toll on you, more than you would like to admit. So any further activity would have to wait.

"Yummy." Jake comes up from below you, drying the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand. Even if you're tired and spent, the comment is enough to make you remove your arm from your eyes just so you can give him a well deserved death stare.

He gets up from the bed, disappearing for a few seconds into the bathroom. "What's with that look? No 'thank you Jake, you're the best?'"

When you don't reply, far too weakened to even try to banter with your boyfriend, he walks back into the room with a towel and a worried look etched on his gorgeous features.

He gets on the bed again, careful not to move your body more than necessary, and starts cleaning you up with the gentlest touch you've ever felt him use. "Did i tire you out too much? You're still sick—"

"You were great. Don't worry," you stop his train of thoughts you knew you wouldn't hear the end of if you let him go on for any longer. "I just need a nap, then I'll be as good as new."

The tension in Jake's shoulders only disappears once you smile at him, his own face morphing to match your own. It's one of your favorite things about him, how he's so careful and attentive to every hint and feeling on your face, he ends up mirroring them without even noticing.

He runs his hands soothingly all over your skin as he resumes cleaning you up, the room falling into a peaceful silence.

You almost fall asleep, but you should've known Sim Jake shutting up for once was far too good to be true.

"Look at the mess you made though. This is enough to start an entire pharmacy."

[yandere-writer-momo]

I decided to treat you all to a terrifying piece. Now this man will be accurate to his time period and terrifying!

Also, for @coolgirl32 since I haven’t fulfilled their request yet! So I combined those aspects with this lovely man. It’s not too detailed since I’m still trying to get out of my slump.

Yandere Head Canons: Lock and Key

Yandere 1950’s Husband x Fem Reader

TW: Yandere themes, obsession, MISOGYNY (microdose), BEING HELD AGAINST YOUR WILL (it isn’t obvious), isolation, HORROR, murder (mention), extreme jealousy, possessiveness, DO NOT ROMANTICIZE THESE BEHAVIORS OR THEMES, and OBSESSION

Robert Jones

Robert was your husband, the only man you’ve ever dated. He was a lawyer at his own law firm. Cold and calculated to others, but he had a soft spot for you. The ideal husband who was only loving towards you… almost too loving.

“Darling, I’m home!” He would always greet you with a hug and a kiss before he’d enjoy the dinner you’d make him.

Robert always sung your praises at how well you kept your home. The instant you washed the dishes, he’d hug you from behind to sniff your hair like a dog. He never seemed to get enough of you… he’s been this way since the two of you were in school.

His hands often grabbed at your hips and thighs. You swore you felt him shake as if he was holding himself back from devouring you like a rabid animal.

Robert was clingy behind closed doors and heavens he was such a possessive man… he had a long list of rules of her interactions with others. Especially other men.

“You’re my wife, dear. I can’t have another man seeing how beautiful you are.” Robert would whisper from the crook of your neck. “I’d have to kill them.”

Hell, he didn’t want you to even speak to the milkman nor the mailman. The reason being that you were too pretty and he wasn’t there to protect you. Even the other housewives weren’t allowed over.

But his consistent isolation made it so lonely… so you began to ask if you could have a job just like a few of the other women had.

Every time you asked if you could get a job, he’d always scoff. He was indeed a typical man of this time period.

“Women can’t work. They’re meant to stay at home and take care of the house.” Robert would always tell you with a click of his tongue. “Do I not give you a cushy enough life?”

You’d always reassure him and he’d smile at your submission.

“We should try for a baby soon… I hate leaving you alone in this house all the time.” He sighed. “Work has been so busy… but you’ll look so pretty all swollen. Don’t you think so, darling?”

Now you were never lacking in the bathroom. Robert was all you knew after all… and he was well endowed. Yet a small part of you wondered if other women’s husbands were constantly on them all the time. That their husbands would obsessively whisper how much they belonged to them…

Yet Robert never allowed you the time to think of it too often before he’d pull you into another round. He couldn’t stand it when your mind wandered from him. He should be all you think about because he was your husband after all.

If only you knew the lengths he had went to in order to be your husband. It was hard to hide all those bodies back in your school days. He was just lucky the police never traced the missing kids back to him.

Gods, Robert wouldn’t know what to do if you hadn’t chosen him. If you hadn’t chosen him to be your perfect provider and future father of your children. He was sure he would have been in a psych ward. Yet you chose him, like the kind person you were… so perfect and obedient to him. He loved you so much!

“I love you, darling.” Robert smiled as he held you close. His fingers traced shapes down your back as he sighed happily.

He would always keep you close under lock and key.

[clockwayswrites]

Danny in Metropolis, ch4 p1

aka: Kon is so gay and so gone for this disaster twink

masterpost no concrit/editing please. very headache, very sleepy, very hand hurty <3

For the first time since Kon had started bringing them for him, Danny wasn’t finishing his lunch. It was extra worrying because Danny hadn’t even touched the dried mango slices, which was one of his absolute favorite lunch time items. Kon hated himself a little for knowing that and noticing, but he did and had. He noticed a lot of little things about Danny.

That day Kon was noticing how pale Danny was, that the circle under his eyes were darker, that his eyes were a little glassy. All Kon could think of was that conversation were Clark had asked if Danny had been sick and a list: Gatorade, jello, broth, fake cherry flavoring.

With their other friends at the table, Kon couldn’t even ask about Danny if he was feeling sick. He was sure if he had tried that Danny would just laugh it off. He always tried to laugh things off. Which meant for the rest of the day that Kon just had to worry and notice.

Notice Danny growing more fatigued. Notice how he drooped. Notice the bit of blood crusted around Danny’s nose after he got back from the bathroom in last period.

Kon picked up Danny’s backpack when the bell rung and they stood to leave. Danny looked at him with furrowed brows, but Kon just slung it on his front and raised his chin with a jut. “I’m walking you home—mine or yours, whichever.”

Danny rolled his eyes, but even that motion didn’t have any heart in it. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

“For like the hundredth time, you’re not a bother. My parents love you and Jon can’t wait to bug you about more space facts.”

Danny blushed faintly and rubbed at the back of his neck. “They do not love me.”

“They love you,” Kon said confidently. “You’re a good influence on my or some shit. They think you’re all polite and adorable.”

Danny gave a little snort. “I am polite and adorable.”

Kon gave a little shrug, which was hindered by the two backpacks he had on. “Never said they were wrong.”

Danny sputtered at Kon’s easy response and blushed a little deeper.

“My place then? Lois is making walking tacos which is like, the one thing that she can reliably make and not mess up. I think it’s because it’s just adding taco seasoning to ground turkey. Oh, are you up for meat tonight? We can do chickpeas for you if you aren’t,” Kon said. As long as he kept talking he knew that Danny would just follow. It was a little underhanded, but Kon figured sometimes Danny needed that to take care of himself. “I talked to Jon’s little demon friend and he said that chickpeas were a really good substitution for meat a lot of times. But also there will be baked beans cause we always have those with walking tacos so maybe you don’t want anything else? Anyways, the option is there. Do you even like chickpeas?”

“Chickpeas is humus, yeah? I like them like that,” Danny said after a beat where he was clearly trying to catch up with Kon’s stream of words. “But what the hell are ‘walking tacos’?”

“Oh, ah, Frito salad? Taco bowl? Taco salad? Taco meat, beans, and cheese over lettuce and Fritos. M—Lois will have salsa and sour cream too,” Kon explained.

“Oh. Yeah, my old school used to do those for lunch sometimes. That seems like a weird thing to be good at making,” Danny pointed out.

“Lois says it’s because of the walking part, it’s good to eat on the road between stories,” Kon said. “Convince store food and things you can make in a hotel room are her specialties.”

Danny chuckled at that (the first laugh Kon had heard from him that day). “That’s almost hard to believe. She seems so…big.”

“Big?”

"Danny shrugged. “Larger than life. Big city. Powerful. She’s a whirlwind, like you are.”

Kon blinked. “You think I’m a whirlwind?”

“Yep,” Danny said, popping the P. “I mean, like, where even are we? I don’t know how we got here, I was just caught up in whirlwind Conner.”

Kon snorted. “We’re taking a short cut back to my place so I can make you take a damn nap.”

“Nap. A nap sounds really good,” Danny said dreamily.

[manixpixiefangirl]

Mel being an empath

(Okay i just got say arcane has sparked passion in me i haven’t felt for a show and fandom in yeeeears i haven’t written a meta in forever so bare with me.)

Anyway at first watching act 3 the reveal of Mel being empath felt crazy like that’s such a huge bomb that we didn’t get build up on or much follow through but i do think it explains so much about her character. Traditionally empaths are written to be overly emotional or sensitive sort of like telepaths and being smart but Mel wasn’t written like that she’s quite calm and collected her most emotional outbursts are with her mother and jayce and even with jayce it’s only because he’s hurling accusations at her and she still remains relatively calm in her responses. I think her knowing people’s emotions wether she was aware of this or not plays into this she knows Jayce is coming from a place of hurt and confusion where as her mother back in season one she knows she’s being disingenuous with the reasons of being in piltover.

First watch this just seems like a disgruntled daughter and her mother trying to get on her good side but knowing that Mel can read people’s emotions adds another layer she see right through her mother which not only from just being raised by her but through her her empath skills.

also wanted to bring this up someone pointed this out tiktok and someone else pointed out that this maybe because we’re seeing this scene through Mel’s POV and since she is empath she see that Maddie is secretly enjoying executing Caitlyn. This got me thinking about her career as council member/politician I’ve wondered how she got so high up while seemingly not only being the youngest member but being young period if she’s assumed to be Jayce’s and Victor’s age this makes her about 24-27 in s1 which is extremely young for council member which essentially this region’s governing body. Being able to sense people’s true intentions allowed her to know who to align herself who not to, knowing when people agreed and disagreed with her, or when people sympathize with your views, causes, or concerns on certain issues which all helped her advance quickly her career. I’m sure being from a high born house helped but we see other high born houses in council positions but they’re all older.

She also seems to be somewhat bored with politics and somewhat disillusioned when we meet her i mean giving a fellow council member a child’s toy almost like a practical joke doesn’t seem like someone who views politics and her colleagues with utmost seriousness it isn’t until she meets Jayce that we see the passion for change. I think being empath she saw that Jayce and Vicktor’s vision for hextech and Piltover and Zaun were pure and genuine which is why she supported them. I also hate the rhetoric that Mel never loved jayce and just manipulated for her own gain she does everything in her power to stay true to him and Vicktor’s vision she doesn’t push him to do anything that goes against their morals and goals. When Jayce is worried about Vicktor and his absence at the council may lead to she reassures she won’t let them corrupt their dream. Like i said early she isn’t written like a typical empath she also isn’t written like a typical manipulator(if you can call her that) she is genuine in what she’s says to Jayce she just also knows how people work and his feelings on the matter so she’s able to play on that.

Ambessa describes her to be too soft and she tells Jayce she didn’t Medarda standards i think the way she operates as empath is the cause of that I don’t think Mel is welling to corrupt herself or others when getting what she wants unlike her Mother and the rest of her family i think they operate much more cut through in their goals.

Whew anyway mind any typos i didn’t mean for this be as long as turned out just wanted to share revelation i had!:)

[squishyo-o]

.+*𝓜𝓸𝓶𝓶𝔂, 𝓱𝓾𝓱?*+. ❤️‍🔥

• IDOL!Seonghwa x FEM!Reader

• CW!: Needy/Desperate reader (in the beginning), Mentions of Nudes (?? Idk. Again, only the beginning) Seonghwa being thirty for that 🐱, body worshiping done by seonghwa and his tongue, Somnophilia, overstimulation, Seonghwa in a black tank top (yes this needs its own warning), pet names (angel, pretty, baby, good/pretty girl, probably more that I put in this thing), smut smut smut with a small little plot, I’m probably forgetting stuff

This was a recommendation by @bbdeongi (sorry if you don’t appreciate tags 😓 I didn’t know how to notify you I made this LMAO) after I made that one post a while ago! I hope you enjoy it <3 (This is basically the prompt: post prompt)

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Why did he have to be gone for so long..

So.. agonizingly long…

You and your idol boyfriend, Seonghwa, have been together for roughly a year and a half now. He unfortunately had been super busy since the day of the comeback announcement and you guys hadn’t had been able to spend too much time together. Granted, you’d also get busy at times, but usually the two of you would find a day, or at least a period of time that you guys would be free to go out with each other or relax at home and cuddle together. Even then, sex wasn’t a question with the two of you. Most of the time he’s pretty soft but the days where the group stressed him out, you’ll be in for a lovely ride.

This time you were pent up at home

Since the day of the comeback announcement, he had been busy with recording the new songs for the album and practicing the choreography for their title track. These were the times you kind of hated the most about his job since the amount of time the two of you would spend time together was very little. You were sat in bed with your legs spread and embarrassingly fingering yourself. You knew Seonghwa was way better than you were. Because then he uses his mouth and just makes you fall apart again. Soft helpless sobs came from your lips as you were desperately trying to get yourself to cum somehow. You were hearing Seonghwa’s voice in your head which just turned you on more, but it wasn’t the same.

Every time you got there, you couldn’t seem to get yourself to finish. You eventually got fed up and was too tired to try again. But you decided to show Seonghwa what he was missing out on. You grabbed your phone on the beside table and snapped a picture of your unfinished pussy. Aching and left over. You sent it to him with a caption of 'please hurry home.. miss you.. ❤️' and put the phone down back on the nightstand to go clean yourself up. Even walking to the bathroom just to clean yourself up made you shake and wobble. Seonghwa, who got the message notification, was on a water break when he saw the text.

Fuck..

Seeing you like that, and he wasn’t able to do anything about it right now? Way turned him on. He kept staring at that wetness between your legs in the picture. He silently cursed to himself. Why couldn’t practice just be done already? He wanted so badly to just hurry home and fuck you with his mouth. It didn’t help that your moans were ringing in his ears. Such a beautiful symphony; it makes his cock twitch. He had to cross his legs and play it off as him getting comfortable. "God.. practice can’t go by any faster.." he mumbled under his breath taking a sip of his water, still staring at the picture you sent. He reacted to the picture with a heart and even replied:

"I’m so sorry my angel. Wait for me pretty, and I promise my tongue will give you paradise 💞"

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Roughly about 3 hours later, and Seonghwa was finally on his way home, Really was just about to step into the house. Fuck he has never been so hungry for you. The entire way back home was just him thinking about you. You and your cunt. You and your wet, throbbing, and needy cunt. Even thinking about it now made his cock jump. He needed to be inbetween your legs. Now. He unlocked the front door and let himself in, taking his shoes off. A warm feeling hugged his arms walking in like it always did, knowing that you were here. Here, home, and horny as shit. Seonghwa went upstairs to your guys’s shared room and opened the door.

"Angel? Oh.."

He looked on the bed and saw you. Sleeping. "Fuck I’m sorry angel.. did I take too long..?" He whispered. He looked at your sleeping body, lips in a soft pout in your innocent and peaceful rest. You looked so adorable, but he was hungry for that needy pussy. That picture stirred him up. "Pretty.. I’m home.." he softly spoke, not trying to wake you up too much, but enough to know he was home. "hwa.." you hummed, very sleepy. "I saw what you sent me.. need a little help?" You whined a little, nodding, and starting to fall asleep again. "Aww poor thing.. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.. here.."

Seonghwa climbed over you and your now sleeping figure. "So pretty.." he lifted the blankets and saw that you were only in underwear. Underwear and his t-shirt. "Fuck Angel.. you know how to turn me on and I wasn’t even here.." he said. He looked at your sleeping figure. "Least you’ll wake up to something pleasant, yes?" He carefully slid your panties off and pushed your legs apart to see your pussy. "Poor thing.. can’t believe I left you hanging for so long.." he put in 2 fingers and curled them a couple times, eliciting sleepy whines from you.

"So pretty. Even while you’re sleeping.." He took his fingers away and licked them clean. "Fuck angel.. gotta get a better taste of you.." he said, now dipping his face between those legs and starting to suck and use his tongue, groaning at how good you tasted. He could hear whines coming from you, and could feel you regaining your consciousness. "H-hwa.. Seonghwa.." you moaned. Seonghwa kept lapping up your cunt and slurping up your juices. He was eating you out like it was his last meal. You clamped your thighs around his face, telling him you were close.

You had a grip on his hair because of how well he was doing. Loud and long moans were drawn out of you. "Seonghwa! Seonghwa please I’m close.. I’m close please! Please mommy I’m gonna cum!" Mommy? That’s surely new. And hot. He kept going until the coil in your abdomen finally snapped and you came hard on his tongue. He licked it all up, but didn’t stop. He was still going. "S-seonghwa! T-too much! Too much!" You moaned, but he was still going; his tongue reaching every spot in your clit. Even the ones you didn’t know about.

Your legs were shaking. Thighs squeezing around his face as he kept eating your out. The slurping and groaning sounds that would usually embarrass you, turning you on more. "M-mommy.. mommy I’m gonna cum again.." you moaned as you felt the same familiar pit in your stomach. With one of his hands he put a hand on your thigh and squeezed it which then set you off again and made you moan his name loud as you creamed on his tongue. And he was there to lick it all up.

You staggeringly whined and moaned as you came down from your second high and seonghwa’s pussy eating finally came to a stop. He came back up and looked at you, cocking his eyebrow in amusement. "Mommy, huh?" Your cheeks flushed and you got goosebumps. You looked away before nodding. "Hm.. interesting.." Seonghwa began taking his sweats off. You could see how much he was painfully aching in his boxers. "Need you so bad Angel.. couldn’t wait to get home after I saw the message.. you and that pretty pussy of yours.. fuck.." he groaned.

"Can’t wait to fuck you.." He took off the blankets and began kissing your neck sweetly. "Hwa.." you whined. "Such a pretty girl.." you were still quite tired from the two previous orgasms, but the way Seonghwa was talking, there was no way he was gonna stop now. He was turned on. "Seonghwa.. c-can’t go again.." you whined. Seonghwa was busy worshipping your body and had already taken his shirt off of you while kissing your boobs. "No bra underneath? In my t-shirt? Someone was needy.." you then pouted. "So are you by how you’re kissing me.." Seonghwa chuckled.

"You don’t seem to mind though, right?" He said and went back to your thighs, kissing and biting on them and listening to the sounds of your moans. Seonghwa took off his boxers and alined himself with your hole. "So sorry I kept you waiting my angel.." he said as he entered you, you gasping at the intrusion. "S-seonghwa I-i can’t.. go again.." he began thrusting in you slowly. "Cmon now.. be a good girl for mommy, eh?" You moaned at his words. He went slow for a little bit before going a little faster, hearing your moans get louder. "Oh my fucking god.. Seonghwa.. please more.."

"Ah ah.. that’s not my name, is it angel? Try again.. what’s my name?"

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𝓐𝓝: chat- the delay on this story IM SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭 I GOT IT OUT THOUGH 🥲 Hope you guys enjoy this one!! Lmk in comments or reblogs <3 love you guys and remember to be kind to yourself and drink water ❤️ xoxo

[celestiamour]

ft. logan howlett, ororo munroe, laura kinney, wanda wilson, wade wilson, kurt wagner, jean grey, scott summers (separate) x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ how they are when you are on your time of the month┊1k words

contains: some smutty topics for logan & jean, periods and all the complimentary side effects obviously because it’s so generous ahahahahaaaaaaaaa

➤ author's note: oh how i hate being a woman at times, if only some strong mutants could come to life and help ease the suffering…

let’s get this out of the way— yes, logan howlett can smell it and is able to tell when you’re on our period. in fact, he’s even able to sniff out the difference between the blood from menstruation and the blood from injuries. he’s been… “around the block” to put it lightly, he knows what you are going through, will be nice about it, and will use his experience to help care for you. he won’t be as sassy as he usually is even if you are a bit snappy, he’ll get extra food and put aside snacks for you, and he’ll give you as much or as little space as you want. also very willing to eat you out or cuddle-fuck you during it, being a little messy doesn’t faze him and he’s probably done nastier. 8/10, he’ll help you get through it without any complaint.

ororo munroe knows when your cycle is coming before you do, she keeps track of it and is on duty to take care of you the second you wake up with that uncomfortable feeling in your panties. she’s already inside the bathroom attached to your room running a warm bath completely with bath bombs and flower petals, ready to carry you into the water, and to strip your bedsheets for a wash if they get stained. there’s even a cute little wicker basket full of candies and drinks on your bedside with a stuffed animal she brought from target sitting on your bedside. it may seem excessive to some for something that happens every month, but she believes the effort is worth it if it means easing your pains. 10/10, she’s an angel descended from heaven in your eyes.

both of your dads are pretty useless (worst! logan is less knowledgeable than his original counterpart) on the topic and althea gives you a piece of chocolate at most, so you and laura kinney need to take care of each other when shark weeks come around. so many cuddles, kisses, and movie nights while snacking because cravings are a bitch. she’ll pat you on the back and rub your shoulders, muttering little “i know, princess, i know” as you whine. don’t even think of moving if you’re in a position like that, she’ll run around the house to get you pain relievers and a hot water bottle. 9/10, she’s such a wonderful girlfriend.

not sure why, but i feel like you and wanda wilson’s periods would sync a lot? anyhow, it’s a nightmare dealing with mood swings, cramps, and cravings all while taking care of babypool, so there’s a general rule not to take anything seriously during those days because you’re both sensitive and irritable. once it’s all over though, you’re back in each other’s arms and apologizing for anything that might have been said or done (nothing serious happened, it’s just something like “i’m sorry for saying that in an off tone and making you think i was mad at you”). 5/10, could be a lot better but the days afterward are kinda like honeymoon bliss again.

wade wilson is the biggest shit of them all, he definitely says “and that’s on period” every time he finds out, calls you his little ketchup bottle, sends you period cramp moodboards which are just poorly cropped photos of him in the deadpool suit doubled over in pain from a fight— however, he will make you laugh so hard you’ll cry and forget about the ache in your body. 2/10 in terms of helpfulness but 10/10 in terms of funny jokes and conversations. 

you’ll give poor kurt wagner a heart attack every time you whine out in pain and curl up on the couch, clutching onto your stomach and contorting about to find a comfortable position. despite the promises from yourself and everyone else that you will be fine as the aching feeling is temporary, he can’t help but bite his nails from worry. the suffering of people with a uterus will never cease to shock him, they really have to bleed freely like that for a few days every month? he will not leave you alone and is going to treat your every request like an order from royalty. anything you want, you get, and no amount of assurance is going to convince him he doesn’t have to do all that, so you might as well enjoy it while you’re moody and suffering. 

jean grey is one of those people who just don’t have period cramps and still glows despite it all which you are so fucking jealous of. that being said, she’s the best person to be around when it hits. since she’s basically the mansion’s school nurse, she always has snacks, water, pads/tampons of every variety, and pain relievers on hand with so much bounty that she never seems to run out. as your girlfriend, she’s also willing to be a bit sneaky and write you a doctor’s note to get you out of classes regardless of if you are a teacher or a student. she’s also down to fuck even if you’re on your period since she knows orgasms are proven to lessen the pain and she’ll also massage your tits if they are feeling tender (and because she likes your chest no matter the size). 9/10, she can be a bit busy at times but is perfect aside from that.

please hold hands with scott summers and go with him when picking out pads/tampons, he will get overwhelmed by the amount of options and panic buy one of everything. what are wings? liners? what’s the difference between yellow and green, is it lemon or lime? he might forget that you’re more sensitive during these times and slip a comment into a conversation that would make you cry when it usually makes you laugh, but he’ll remind you to stay hydrated, will go out of his way to buy you brownies from your favorite bakery, and will smother you in cuddles. 

[circusofshrimps]

when its time for me to decide which character to hc as trans it comes down to one thing: which one is objectively the funniest

Obviously this would be jason todd. who i have the most fun tacking shit onto. he is just so EASY to headcanon. hes the type of character who is just headcanon central. hes great honestly.

my trans jason thoughts down below because i hate making too long posts. and man do i got a lot of shit to say

ok so Trans Jason Todd but the catch is NONE of the batfamily know this fact. dude was picked up off the streets by batman. and bruce was just like yeah this is a boy without ever questioning it because why would you????

and as far as im aware (and if this is wrong dont even correct me because to me, for this instance, its true) bruce just kinda..picked the kid up. took him home and was just like. ur my son now.

and it goes on like that, bruce and jason. batman and robin. father and son. jason kinda just…hid the fact he was trans. it never really came up, or revealed itself. and then jason dies.

and its like damn. my son is dead. until hes not. and when he gets out of the pit he has two things in mind The first being find bruce. because, duh. (that quickly turns to get revenge. as we all know.) but his second thought is-man. life really is short and merciless. i got a second chance, im transitioning. i’m living my life to the fullest. i’m being me.

so he does just that while hes still plotting his revenge. he gets his surgeries, they heal. hes his ideal self. And he gets so caught up in his plans for revenge, and all that follows that he just…well. he just forgot he wasnt born a dude. and sure, yeah he has the scars from the surgeries, but he also has thousands of other scars. and they arent even his first surgical scars so honestly, it’s forgettable.

and now im not too sure on when exactly theyd find out. i like to imagine its a really mundane thing. like after patrol hes getting changed back into regular clothing and one of his brothers sees the scars under his chest and theyre like. „Oh , did they mess up your autopsy or something,??“

and jason is like ? what? huh? and he looks down at his chest because no, i dont think they did, at least it wasn’t time i checked. and then he sees what theyre talking about, the two surgical scars under his chest. and hes like „oooh. no, that‘s from my top surgery.“

and the one who saw the scar is like, „top surgery? what?“

and jason is just kinda like… „oh. yeah. i guess i never told any of you. but im trans.“

and its just. like. YOU ARE,?????????? AND WE NEVER KNEW?

nope, whoopsie! slipped my mind! haha!

one thing about me is i will look for the opportunity to make the stupidest shit ever. logically, does it make sense that jason was able to hide being afab from bruce while he was living as his son under his roof? no, it doesnt make sense and something eventually would happen where itd come to light. whether that be periods or some injury. but, is it funnier to think he was able to keep it hidden? yes, absolutely.

now, he’s not hiding it because he thinks they won’t be supportive. or any of that shit. because they would, and they do, and he knows that’s not the type of people they are. it just, never seems too important for them to know. so he never brings it up. and nobody questions it because, yeah. that is Jason Todd. his own man.

[miaoua3]

hii ! could you do a jeonghan drabble where like hes cuddling reader and soothing her period cramps away ? also could u make it 600 words+ (if u can!!) becus i LOVE jeonghan fluff and i only can find those short ones ☹️ thank you !

hii! ofc i can do it, i just don’t know if i can make it 600+ words as that is quite long and i have 20+ requests in my inbox atm😭 still, i hope that you like it!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(pairing: bf! jeonghan x f! reader)

warning: mentions of cramps and blood

you twist your whole body until your face ends up buried inside your pillow, eyebrows furrowed as you try to brave for another wave of pain and cramps.

you really hated surprises, especially when it’s a surprise period that we are talking about. you weren’t supposed to get it for another few days, usually somewhat on time. to say that you were completely unprepared for this is an understatement.

the cramps are so bad this time, you can’t honestly remember the last time they were this bad. unfortunately for you, the medicine doesn’t seem to be kicking in for some reason, leave you at mercy of the strong pain in your tummy.

you hold onto your tummy strongly, pushing your hands into your skin as you moan and groan in pain. you peak with one eye at the bloody sheets that you only had the strength to peel them off and throw them onto the floor, mentally making a note to put them to wash later, once your cramps stop feeling as if you are getting stabbed.

it is at moments like this you wish your boyfriend had a more flexible job, just so you could call him and ask him to come home.

almost like a prayer getting answered, you hear the front door unlocking, opening and closing, before you hear hannie’s sweet voice calling for you.

“angel? are you there? i’m home!”

you groan as you weakly call out “in the bedroom”.

in the matter of seconds, hannie appears, his joyful mood immediately souring at your state, cooing in empathy.

“oh baby why didn’t you say anything? i would’ve been home much earlier had i known that you got your period.”, he slowly approaches you before he sits down beside you, pushing the messy and frizzy hair out of your face as he looks at you with sad eyes.

you close your eyes as another wave of pain and nausea hits you, before you answer him through gritted teeth “didn’t want to bother you…plus you are here earlier either way so..”

jeonghan frowns at your words for a second before he bends down to kiss your temple, softly mumbling against your warm skin “you are never a bother to me, baby. next time, whatever the case-if you need me, call me.”

from there on, you completely shut your brain off, because jeonghan takes over and does everything he can think of to help you relax. takes a shower with you where he makes sure that the water is hot enough that it burns his skin off but he ignores the pain because he can see that it helps you with your pain. changes the sheets and puts the bloody ones into the washing machine. boils the water for the hot water bottle for you to hold onto.

and lastly, he gets into bed with you, his strong chest pressed deeply into your back as he hugs you from behind.

it seems that the painkiller finally started to kick in, or maybe your boyfriend has a magic touch, because the moment he stuck his hand under your shirt and started to softly massage and rub your tummy, your cramps started to get better, finally allowing you to relax and enjoy your boyfriends presence.

you close your eyes as you enjoy the series of kisses jeonghan softly presses into the nape of your neck, his lips taking time as he presses them into your skin. although you can feel how they are a bit scratchy, probably due to him biting them from all the stress he had to endure during the day, you just ignore the feeling and just…let his presence calm yours down.

his big and strong hand on your tummy continues to rub slow circles on it, the warm water bottle completely abandoned by you in the name of feeling the warmth jeonghan provides to you. his other hand (the one you are laying on) is intertwined with one of yours, thumb rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand.

you two don’t speak, whatever show playing on your tv providing the only sounds within the four walls of your shared bedroom.

you feel yourself slowly drifting off to dreamland, but before you can fully succumb to the sweet dreams, jeonghan presses one soft kiss onto your cheek, waking you up immediately upon feeling the touch on your skin.

his tired yet soft voice gently asks you “feeling better, my angel?”

you only have it in yourself to nod and whisper a small ‘thank you’ before you feel your eyes slowly close again, all on their own.

as you drift away, almost pain free and completely comfortable in your lover’s embrace, you hear his voice softly say

“nothing to thank me for. anything for you, baby. anything for you.”

[bloodyinkandquill]

Venomshank x Reader who’s immune to his bite

another venomshank request yippee, this will likely be rather short we shall see, OH YEAH, my last one is now outdated due to us now knowing that to fly bro just uses his bird but oh well, ignore that lmao

- The first time you met the deity of decay (hc) was a terrifying moment, you thought you were about to die, after all you had heard the tales of his feral nature, so when you came across him without his mask and green dripping form his mouth you figured you were done for, you’d become a zombie and your life was over

- So when after being bitten nothing happened, you both stared at your arm, that he was still bitten into mind you, for a solid minute straight, it was so shocking that it somehow snapped him out of his feral period at it, he’d never encountered anyone immune to his bite, barring his siblings, he was so confused in fact he let go and bit you again, he hates when he turns people but he just had to make sure he was understanding what was going on

- Once he let go the second time he seemed to sober up fully, whistling and an oddly large bird flying in carrying his mask, he slipped it back on before apologizing to you for biting you, all that combined probably made for the most confusing 2 minutes of your life all things considered

- That led to him wanting to talk to you, he asked you many many questions first revolving around the bite but they then morphed into just questions about yourself instead, he found you fascinating, and not just the being immune to him thing, just in general, he’s met thousands of inphernals before but you were something special, in his eyes at least, and well one conversation one day led to a different another, and next thing you know you’re in a relationship with the deity you thought was about to kill you (if this is bad sue me i’m tired and trying my best)

- As opposed to other mortals Venomshank’s known, you’re the one he’s not had to worry about his greatest fear, he loves his son, and he tells you it very often, but he has a nagging deep dark fear that one day he won’t have his mask on around him and he will loose him, but with you, that isn’t a problem, for once he can have his mask off around a mortal without fear of turning them to an undead creature, it’s a breath of fresh air for him, literally

- Because of this he also feels comfortable enough to jokingly give you little love nibbles, since he knows they can’t hurt you, we’ll turn you into a zombie, they can still hurt if he bites too hard, but it’s nice in his opinion, even if you swat him away because it tickles after a minute or two

- He is far more comfortable kissing you as well, since he knows with his oddly shaped mouth the threat of kissing someone and accidentally grazing them with his canine is a possibility he’s also relieved he can kiss you as much as he wants and it won’t be an issue, you’d think for a centuries old deity he’d be more demure when it comes to affection but he does not care in the slightest, he will be kissing you any opportunity he gets, even if your busy, have your hands full, are asleep, he’s kissing your forehead, hands, neck, lips, cheeks, it’s just such a new experience to him, and he adores it, almost as much as he adores you yourself

- Being the only inphernal to ever taste his feral… saliva? And live to recount it means you’re the only person to ever walk the inphinity and know what it tastes like, the texture is like acid but since you’re immune it almost dulls down into the equivalent of drinking a monster, carbonated and kinda like battery acid, it’s an interesting taste that’s for sure

yup midnight has passed, i’ll update the thing then work on my final request, which will definitely be the longest since it’s uh general x reader hcs… actually on second thought ill work on it in the morning, im tired and have a few things to do tomorrow and i can just add it to the cue after i finish, yeah that’ll work, let me just get everything else ready and then ill go to bed

[kosmicdream]

"make weird art!"

Look, I am genuinely glad the current rallying cry right now seems to be “make weird art!” but I can’t lie.. There’s a part of me that also finds it so annoying. FRUSTRATING. In my experience, people have a low tolerance for nonlinear storytelling. I got death threats for period sex ten years ago. It used to upset me a lot when I was starting out. I just wanted to make something exciting and interesting, no one knew that my comic was basically my lifeline. Now, I kind of miss the alarm over every small thing that happened. I don’t know. Things are getting weird regardless, good & bad ways. there’s weirdness (whatever that means to people) everywhere already, in the past and in the present. Maybe its good people are reflecting on what they’re holding back from themselves or judging others for doing. Or maybe they can’t find what it is they need there and are looking to discover it out there in the world. Personally though, I can’t relate. Not to be too rude or blunt, but i cant take two steps without it being “weird.” The weird i make isn’t weird to me, its normal. I don’t need to make my art anything, it is just what it is. I just need to make the art, that’s my only job I need to do here.

Make weird art, sure. Do it, please. But I also would hope in that journey, when you look at other art that you find repulsive, shameful, complicated, yes even offensive.. If you find yourself with the instinct to sink your fingers into it, rip it apart until its unrecognizable.. Until its utterly destroyed in your heart in a way that feeds the satisfaction of that desire. The art you experienced that affected you that way, its not gone. You can’t destroy the art, just the person. And I hope that whatever you ripped apart there inside of yourself, was not something that was or could have been actually important to you in your personal journey with art. Sure.. Still feel those things! its important to get in an uproar over nothing. I sure do! Oh, theres some art out there i hate so much that its entertainment for me, I’m not going to let anyone change my mind about it. Fire and intensity is part of the passion of art and pursuing your vision of it for yourself.. But what really disturbs me is how common artists hate their own art and hate making art. I don’t like seeing so many artists my age, younger, older.. In pain because they can’t love art anymore. What happened? I don’t get to do art all the time anymore as i’d like. I get frustrated, I cry and feel lost but I never have hated making my art. I don’t know what I’m doing that helps with this but I’m glad I’m doing it. Part of that I think is that i don’t feel an ownership towards what other people are making because that doesn’t belong to me, just my own feelings. And I personally like using every part I can find, that often gets discovered because I ran into something i didn’t know was out there. Most of the time, I wouldn’t have found it if i wasn’t genuinely upset in some way.   

What are you ripping apart?

[megismyname]

A few general statements for the fandom:

Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.

And yes this applies to personal or private information you may obtain or theorize about any of the players involved. Just because you obtained it “publicly” doesn’t mean it should be shared for the whole of the fandom. Ask yourself if this was being shared about you, would you want everyone that knows you discussing it? If not, keep it to a 4-5 person group chat.

Stop villainizing Nic and Luke for not performing on your perceived timeline.

Nicola is only 38 - she’s not in a “mid life crisis” and if I hear that one more time I’m gonna pull my hair out. Luke is not a “fuckboy” because he had one HBS and dated a younger woman for a short period of his life. Just because “guys like Luke” wouldn’t date you doesn’t mean he couldn’t love Nicola. And for real, WTF does “guys like Luke” mean? Just say that you’re projection fat phobia on Nicola when she’s not even “fat.”

Follow up - Nic and Luke are not distancing themselves from Bridgerton or from each other.

Most of y’all became fans during the WT so you were so used to constant content 24/7 and unfortunately that’s over. Luke and especially Nicola are also more high profile now compared to previous seasons. BTS posting on social media is gonna be different. It has nothing to do with their thoughts toward the show or each other. They’ve both commented multiple times how much they love Bridgerton. And they’ve both commented how much they love each other. Stop creating drama just because you need a dopamine fix.

Another follow up - social media is not real life.

Y’all I don’t know them personally but I PROMISE you that Luke reached out to Nic personally and wished her happy birthday. (Hell depending on where you fall on the theory spectrum, he was the one with her at her birthday dinner and took the picture.) I will tell you that my birthday is January 8th, the day before Nic, and I had to two Instagram story posts wishing me happy birthday. TWO. And I promise you I have a lot of friends. But you know what? All of my close friends texted or called me that day and gave me personalized greetings that weren’t for the whole world to see. And - GASP - this includes friends who have posted for me multiple past years in a row. So yes, even pattern breaking doesn’t mean anything. It’s been a week so please stop dwelling on this. And if you are still upset then I have a question for you - does it equally bother you that none of the Bridgertons publicly wished Will Tilston a Happy 18th Birthday? If not, please reevaluate the reasons behind your expectations.

Stop the public bullying and ostracizing.

The public hate needs to stop. Everyone is always accusing “shippers” of being the reason why N&L seem closed off but my opinion is that if anyone in the fandom is influencing their behavior, it’s the people continuously spewing hate. I will admit I’ve been guilty of throwing down against some of the more toxic creators in this space but I’ve always felt like I was “giving a voice to the voiceless.” What we need to do is stop attacking other creators because their opinions are different than us. And yes, I’m bringing this back to “opinion” because as I said the other day - nobody knows “fact” no matter how “obvious” you think it may be. You think Antonia and Jake are their significant others? Great. You think Nic and Luke are together? Great. Until the day that there is ever a definitive answer directly from the teams of Nic or Luke, everyone is on equal playing ground. I’m sorry if that bothers you but it’s true.

Side note to all of this: if a creator is saying stuff that makes you uncomfortable just know that when you make a post complaining about it, you were in fact perpetuating that information that makes you uncomfortable and only making the visibility larger. Just keep this in mind.

And with that, I’ll take my leave for now. Let’s all take a collective deep breath and remember that these are two real people with real lives and we’re only seeing what they choose to show us. Maybe it’s time we all pick up some extra hobbies. Start playing online games with your group chat. Fun some other methods of injecting fun in your day. It’ll make the time go by and you won’t be driving yourself crazy over this fandom. Keep your heads up y’all and just keep moving forward - it’s not that serious y’all. 💛

[sarafangirlart]

Debunking some misinformation about Hephaestus and Aphrodite’s Marriage

I’m so sick and tired so I’m making a thread, enjoy. I’ll break it down into several points.

1. Hephaestus demanded Aphrodite’s hand in marriage in exchange for Hera’s freedom and Aphrodite was forced into the marriage

You’d be surprised by how this isn’t even attested in ancient sources, rather it’s just a theory made by modern scholars bc of how spotty and limited our knowledge about this marriage is, let’s look at the actual sources:

Notice how Aphrodite isn’t even mentioned mentioned as the “prize”? Hephaestus does ask for a goddess in exchange for freeing Hera, but it’s not Aphrodite, it’s Athena. The usual course of events is this:

Hephaestus is angry at Hera for her mistreatment and sends a golden throne that traps her

The other gods try to persuade him to free her but he refuses

Dionysus convinces him by getting him drunk

Again the theory that Aphrodite was the prize for whoever gets Hephaestus to Olympus is just that, a theory. Not a really good one either bc wouldn’t Aphrodite be married to Dionysus instead? It’s a really shallow portrayal of all figures involved tbh, why would Ares only be interested in freeing his mother if it meant he gets to marry Aphrodite? Why would anyone on Olympus not be worried about their queen being chained up? Believe it or not but Hera isn’t as disliked as one would think lol

Now even if Aphrodite wasn’t a prize how did she end up marrying Hephaestus? And was she forced into doing it? No actually (Lucian’s Dialogue of the gods):

That’s not to say this wasn’t an arranged marriage (it most likely was) but arranged marriage and forced marriage are not the same thing. If you think this is a forced marriage then what about Cadmus and Harmonia? Heracles and Hebe? Both these marriages were arranged by Zeus but no one would claim they’re forced marriages.

2. Aphrodite hated Hephaestus

Now this is more open to interpretation, after all love is subjective, but to say they outright hated each other would be incorrect, there is this myth that Aphrodite cursed Lemnos to have the men abandon their wives and female family members, usually bc they neglected on worshipping her (tho a late Latin source says it’s revenge for exposing her affair).

Apollonius of Rhodes' Argonautica:

However this bit seems to be rather… genuine? Almost as if she might have truly felt bad for what she did and wanted to reconcile, sounds like someone with a deeply messy and complicated relationship with their partner, but not outright hate.

Also there is this moment in Lucian’s Dialogue of the Gods which is pretty funny:

3. Hephaestus only saw Aphrodite as property

Ok I don’t like using the “it was a different time” card but like… it really does apply here lol

Now we’ve already established that Aphrodite was never a prize for Hephaestus to begin with so what about the betrothal gifts he gave to Zeus? Obviously that means he was buying Aphrodite right?

Well, no actually this is a normal part of Ancient Greek marriage (obviously it varied between cities and time periods but it usually goes something like this), the father of the bride and the groom exchange gifts with each other to establish a bond between the two, the bride herself wasn’t the “gift” Zeus’s gift to Hephaestus was most likely his place on Olympus.

To say that Hephaestus bought Aphrodite would mean that Odysseus bought Penelope, or Hector bought Andromache, both are ludicrous claims.

4. Hephaestus is an incel and Ares is this big feminist icon

No, just… no.

Ares was never considered “the protector of women” in Ancient Greece that’s tumblr fanfiction and plenty of other ppl have made posts debunking this (including me) so I won’t repeat that here. Now about Hephaestus being an “incel” all the male Olympians have at least one story where they harm an innocent/defenseless woman, all of them, yes including Ares who persecuted Leto while she was heavily pregnant by Hera’s orders.

5. Aphrodite cheated to “regain her sexuality”

No Patrick, cheating on your disabled spouse with his brother in the bed and palace he made for you is not a girlboss move it’s being an asshole (all the gods are flawed, how thought provoking). Hell, even Zeus wouldn’t pull shit like this with Hera.

Aphrodite and Ares most likely did this hoping it would be the last place anyone would suspect an affair, since Aphrodite could’ve had sex with Ares in his own place or some meadow somewhere but that might cause ppl to be too suspicious.

6. Ares is a big dumb brute who can’t take a hint and only saw Aphrodite for her beauty

Believe it or not, just bc I criticize Aphrodite and Ares doesn’t mean I hate them lol. Now look, all the gods care deeply about looks but that’s not the only thing that Ares and Aphrodite love about each other. Here is Ares being a total simp and actually listening to her:

Iliad book 5

Thebaid book 3

7. Aphrodite felt neglected by Hephaestus bc he’s too busy at the forge

No lol, she straight up works with him at the forge, why wouldn’t she? If anything this claim makes Aphrodite even more shallow than she actually is.

8. Aphrodite and Ares didn’t care about being humiliated in the golden net and Ares straight up brags about cucking his brother

Yes I’ve heard such claims and no Ares and Aphrodite are actually capable of feeling shame lol, almost as if they were in the wrong. Also why would Ares actively antagonize the guy who makes all his stuff? Maybe that’s why Athena keeps beating his ass, bc Hephaestus purposely gives Ares shitty weapons and armor lol

Anyways umm… I think that’s it? Maybe I missed a few things bc I’m frustrated af rn

Just so y’all know, I’m not a scholar I’m just autistic and read a lot lol. I hope I didn’t miss something or get anything wrong.

Have a good day (or night).

[finelinefae]

Could we please get a check in with the aviator? I love them like no other i swear

synopsis: y/n finds out she's pregnant with Aviator!Hs baby.

wordcount: 2.6 k

a/n: this isn't really a check-in more so something that happens a year into their relationship because i think about this moment a lot and i needed to write about it !!!!

also first one shot for the aviator whoop!!

. . .

It was the middle of the night. 

Y/N had been up since dinner, laying beside the toilet bowl so she could vomit the contents of her stomach every ten minutes. She’d stuck the thermometer under her armpit to check if she had a fever, only to find it at a completely normal temperature. 

She was tired and frustrated and her head hurt from throwing up so much. She hadn’t had a wink of sleep and she still had to get to work in the morning. 

The door swung open and Y/N lifted her tired eyes to find Nancy looking down at her, “You’ve been throwing up since dinner,” She held out a glass of cold water and Y/N gladly took it. 

“Sorry,” Y/N groaned, after taking a sip, “I’ve tried taking medicine but nothing seems to be working.”

Nancy sighed, “You don’t need to apologise, do you want me to call Harry?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “He’s been working all week, he’s probably exhausted.”

“Okay well you can’t just sit by the toilet all night, do you want me to warm you up some ginger ale?” Y/N sighed, considering her offer before pushing herself up from the floor and following Nancy to the kitchen.

She sat at the table, clutching her stomach and ignoring the nausea she felt. Nancy took out some ginger ale and began to heat in a saucepan over the stovetop. “I just don’t understand how I can feel like this but not even have a fever,” Y/N huffed. 

Nancy shrugged, “Are you due? Normally I feel pretty sick a week or so before my period starts,”

A dip forms between Y/N’s brows, “I don’t think so, I’m pretty sure-” Y/N paused, thinking back to the last time she had had her period. She had been waiting for it to arrive this week but one glance at the calendar on the kitchen refrigerator revealed that it was already a week late. 

Panic surged through her, “Nancy,” She gasped, looking up at her roommate and friend, “It’s late.”

Nancy’s eyes widened, “Are you sure?”

Y/N’s mind was racing to try and piece together the days but she knew that she was right and her period was over a week late.

Y/N didn’t have to say anything for Nancy to understand what she was thinking. “W-what am I going to do?” Y/N panicked as dread ensued her, “I-I can’t have a baby, I can’t.”

“Y/N, it’s okay,” Nancy crouched down on the floor in front of her and took her hands, “It’s going to be okay. Tomorrow morning we’ll go down to the clinic and ask them to take a test to make sure.”

Y/N shook her head, “Not the morning, Harry will know and he’ll-” She covered her mouth, “Oh God, Harry, what if he hates me?”

Nancy scoffed, “How could he possibly hate you? I’ve never seen someone as in love with somebody as he is with you,”

“But Nancy, a baby. It’s too soon and he’s still got Elise and-” Y/N’s mind was whirring with thoughts as she thought about how her life was about to change if she really was pregnant. Elise was only four and their relationship was still relatively new - they’d only celebrated their year anniversary a month ago which was more than likely to be the reason that got her in this predicament. 

“Y/N, calm down,” Nancy soothed her, “Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll deal with these things after we find out whether you really are pregnant or not. For now, we’ll go to bed and think about it in the morning, okay?”

Y/N nodded slowly, trying to digest the words she was hearing. Nancy was right, she needed to not worry until she had confirmation from the nurse that she really was pregnant. She tried to pause her worries until the morning but not a wink of sleep occurred when her mind was whirring with thoughts about how Harry would react to the possibility of it all. 

. . .

Y/N felt sick to her stomach as she walked to the hangar where she knew Harry would be working. She’d been so many times now that she knew exactly where to go, following the path through the doors and round the back.

“Evening Y/N,” One of the boys said as she walked past, tipping his hat. Y/N forced a smile onto her face in reply.

She walked through the back doors and found Harry outside smoking a cigarette on his own, the sun setting behind him. Unlike how she usually felt whenever she was around him, Y/N began to panic wondering whether she should turn back now before she told him something that would change both their lives forever. 

Harry’s head lifted and a smile carved onto his face when his eyes landed on her. He threw his cigarette on the ground and stubbed it with his foot, “Hi birdy,” He walked over and embraced her in a hug, pressing a kiss to her lips. 

Y/N knew Harry had sensed something was wrong from how stiff she felt in his embrace. He pulled back but his arms stayed looped around her, “Wha’s wrong?” He frowned, “Y’okay?” He cupped her face in his hands and looked her in the eye.

Y/N pulled away, “I’m okay,” She lied and Harry immediately knew something was wrong when she took a step away from him. Usually, whenever they were together there was barely any space between them.  

“Hey, when do y’ lie to me?” He forced a smile, a pit of dread forming in his stomach.

Y/N’s eyes glistened, she sniffled and scrunched her nose to try and prevent herself from crying. “I just missed you is all,” 

“Birdy,” A dip formed between his brows, “M always right here y’ know that. Did something happen at work today?” 

Y/N shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself, “No,” She replied, “I-I need to tell you something.”

This time Harry really did begin to panic. He thought back to the past few months and wondered if he had done anything wrong to upset her in that time but every day had been as blissfully sweet as the last. He was so in love with Y/N and that love continued to grow every passing day. She was the first person he woke up to in the morning and the last person he saw at night - every day it was Y/N, the love of his life. 

So he couldn’t understand what had currently gotten her so distant with him or why she was being so vague and secretive whenever she was with Nancy, “Are you…Are you breaking up with me?” Harry voiced his biggest concern out loud.

Y/N almost gasped, reaching for his hand and holding it to her chest, “God Harry, no. No, of course not.”

He relaxed slightly but still wondered what was going on in her head that was so difficult to tell, “Wha’s wrong then baby?”

Y/N released a shuddery breath, looking away from him and down at the hand she was currently holding. She twisted the ring on his pinkie finger, one lone tear rolling down her cheek that she quickly brushed away. “Harry, I'm pregnant.” She whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. 

Her heart thudded against her chest when she felt his hand stiffen. She could barely look up at him as she waited for him to say something.

Two rough hands cupped her cheeks and lifted her head up. Her eyes met his, lips parting to see tears rolling down his cheeks and the biggest smile she had ever seen stretched across his face, “We’re havin’ a baby?” He whispered in disbelief.

Y/N nodded slowly, “I found out this afternoon.”

A laugh escaped his lips, “Holy shit,” He let go of her and ran his fingers through his hair before covering his face with his hands and smiling beneath them.

Y/N stood waiting, still a little tense until he took one step towards her and picked her up in his arms, her dress twirling as he spun them round, “Holy shit we’re having a baby.” 

A wave of relief washed over her, Y/N finally mirrored the smile on his face when she saw the excitement on his face. 

He set her back on her feet, “You’re not mad?” Y/N asked. 

“Why would I be mad? This is my dream, I’ve always wanted to be a dad.” Harry was unable to rid himself of the smile on his face.

“I know but we’ve been together a year and-” 

Harry silenced her by smashing their lips together in a messy kiss, “I love you bigger than the whole sky Birdy, there is not a single person in this entire world I would rather have as the mother of my child.”

Y/N’s eyes watered and tears began to fall as she smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands fell to her tummy, “I can’t believe there’s a tiny human in there,” Harry chuckled in disbelief. 

“I love you so much Harry,” Y/N murmured, wondering why she was ever nervous to tell him in the first place. 

. . .

Safe to say, Harry had become somewhat even more obsessed with Y/N than he had ever been before.

“Tha’s my baby mama!” He whistled, wearing his grease-covered overalls as he slid off the wing of the plane and ran towards Y/N who was only a month pregnant.

Y/N’s cheeks heated, eyes darting around, “Shh, what if someone hears you?” 

They had yet to tell any of their friends or Harry’s brothers that Y/N was pregnant.  Nancy had been sworn to secrecy despite her boyfriend constantly pestering her over telling him what they were always whispering about whenever Y/N refused a drink at a party. Harry struggled to keep such a big secret from his siblings since he had always told them everything, but Y/N wanted to make sure everything was okay before they let the world know another baby would be entering their little family. 

“There’s no one around, don’t worry.” Harry smiled, a dimple carving into his cheek. 

She had the tiniest bump, barely even noticeable unless she was bloated, but he was obsessed all the same. His hands reached for her sides, feeling the small curve of her tiny bump as he held her. “Hi Harry,” Y/N grinned, “Thought we could walk to the clinic together.”

Today they would be having their first appointment together with their assigned midwife. Harry had been close to a kid at Christmas as he counted down the days until he got to hear his baby’s heartbeat. “Yeah, I’ll pack my stuff away and we’ll head on down,” He nodded but stopped to kiss her quickly, “Missed y’,” He murmured. 

Y/N laughed, “You saw me three hours ago,” 

“Much too long,” He countered, slipping away from her and going to pack his things away. 

He returned in a fresh white t-shirt and jeans, reaching for her hand and threading their fingers together as they walked down to the clinic. 

Harry could feel Y/N’s nerves bouncing off of her as they sat in the waiting room of the small office waiting for their midwife to call them in. She fiddled with her fingers in her lap, tapped her foot against the floor and chewed on her bottom lip. Every now and then her eyes would glance to the door like she was desperate to get out. 

He reached for her hand, holding it in his lap and playing with the small ring on her index finger. His thumb traced the mole in the middle of her wrist, her pulse fluttering beneath it. “Y’ okay?” He murmured.

“Jus’ nervous,” She admitted, “I don’t like doctor’s offices all that much.”

“Y’ not having second thoughts about the baby are you? Because if you were there are things we can do and talk about. I-I’d never force y’ to have a baby, y’know that right Birdy?” Harry said. 

Y/N’s eyes softened, she cupped his cheek in her hand, “I want this baby with you more than I want anything ever.”

Harry smiled, “Y’ mean that?” He needed that reassurance from her more than anything. 

“I mean it,” She kissed him quickly. 

The door clicked open and in walked the midwife, “Y/N Y/L/N?” 

Y/N took a deep breath, squeezing Harry’s hand as they stood up. The midwife, an older woman with kind eyes, gestured for them to follow her into a small room. There was a simple examination bed and a tall metal stand with a strange, trumpet-like device hanging from it.

“This is a fetal stethoscope,” the midwife explained, picking up the device. “It’s how we’ll listen to your baby’s heartbeat.”

Y/N climbed onto the bed, her heart racing. Harry stood by her side, never letting go of her hand. The midwife placed the wide end of the stethoscope on Y/N’s abdomen and pressed her ear to the other end.

The room was silent as the midwife concentrated. Then, her face lit up with a smile. “There it is,” she said, turning to the expectant parents. “Your baby’s heartbeat. Would you like to listen?”

Harry’s eyes widened as he nodded eagerly. The midwife handed him the earpiece, and he leaned down, his expression changing from nervousness to awe as he heard the rapid, steady thump of their baby’s heart.

“Our baby,” Harry whispered, his voice thick with emotion. 

Y/N could feel her eyes welling up as she watched him. Her hand reached out to thread through his curls as he pressed his ear to the earpiece once more and listened for the faint sound of a beating heart they had created, “Can y’ hear it?” Y/N smiled, tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“Tha’s our baby,” He repeated like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

“Tha’s right, H.” Y/N said softly.

Harry reached for her bump, placing both of his big, heavy palms on it. He lowered his head and pressed a small kiss to the spot above her belly button, “Hello baby,” He murmured, “How can I love you this much when all I can hear is y’ heart?” 

Y/N smiled, letting him have his moment, “Promise I’ll take such good care of it,” He continued to speak soft and slow, “Both yours and mamas,”

Harry reached for Y/N’s hand and held it in his own, his other palm resting right over her bump. He felt Y/N give his hand a gentle squeeze and wondered if she could hear just how fast his heart beat for her even without the earpiece.

“Don’t cry,” Harry smiled, reaching to wipe away Y/N’s tears. 

“I’m just happy,” Y/N sniffled, “You’re going to be such a good dad, Harry, I hope you know that.”

The words settled something in him. All his nerves seemed to melt away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and anticipation for the new life they were about to bring into the world together. 

A family of his own. 

“I love you birdy,” He leans down and speaks to the bump once more, “and I love you too, baby birdy.” Y/N laughed and watched as Harry continued in conversation with their baby, hearing nothing but a gentle heartbeat in reply to his voice.

[haikyu-mp4]

Sponsored

word count; 742 – gn!reader who likes makeup

“Sugarpill… what is this?” Kenma mumbled as he opened another PR package. This one was a bright pink box, on the smaller side. He scrunched his nose as he opened it, finding a little flyer and something square with a pixelated cat on the front. “Fun size… eyeshadow palette?” he read off the label and looked up as the chat suddenly went crazy.

kozuluvr: omg its makeup

kenkenspudding: will we finally get beauty guru kodzuken?

raginggamergirl: I dont even use makeup n I want this palette

Kenma hummed under his breath, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why they would send me this,” he said honestly, twisting and turning the palette in his hands before opening it and showing the bright colours to the livestream, also doing his best to read off the names, which were all gaming related.

urfavkuroo: makeup tutorial for your next follower special?

He looked down at the palette, seemingly studying it. “The names are cool.”

When you came home from work, you kicked your shoes off and sighed loudly as you strolled into the kitchen. You knew Kenma was playing on livestream, so you picked up two juice boxes from the fridge and went to his office.

“Hey, baby,” you cooed, waving at the camera as you stepped up beside Kenma and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You two announced your relationship a long time ago, and after getting through the short period of intense hate comments, most of his fans seemed to get over it. They realised that you were kind of awesome.

“Hi, how was work?” Kenma asked, taking the juice box from you with a small thanks after pausing the game.

“Same old, same old.” You glanced at the screen and then back to him. “And yours?” you asked back with a teasing tone. “Looks tough.” Kenma scoffed and pinched your thigh, making you giggle. He ignored your question in favour of leaning across his desk to pick up the pink package.

“Look what I got in my sponsored mail,” was all he said, handing it to you and watching for your reaction with a small smile on his face. He really likes it when you get home.

People started posting suggested makeup looks with his name on Twitter and you even responded to a couple of them from your account, agreeing with what would suit him and what would not.

That’s why you two agreed that you would do the makeup on him, announcing on Kodzuken’s channels that if they got him to his next follower milestone, they would get a makeup special.

And what do you know, Kenma got a follower boost from all the posts his fans made about him and the palette.

You happily helped him set up to film in your living room, so you could sit cross-legged and face each other on the couch where the lighting was a bit nicer. In preparation, you cleaned your eyeshadow brushes and put Kenma’s hair in a nicer bun so the camera could properly catch whatever you did.

He raised a brow as you held up the eyeshadow palette to the camera and put your hand behind it, explaining the product. “What are you even doing?” he asked you, pointer finger drawing stars on your knee while he watched you affectionately.

“This is what us beauty gurus do,” you said in a jokingly posh voice, also telling him “You wouldn’t understand.”

“This is my channel, you know,” he teased, using his other hand to tap your cheek. If he focused more on you, he didn’t think too much about how much more exposed he was to his viewers in a video like this compared to what he was used to.

“Shh, I’m talking to my devoted followers,” you said before laughing, picking up the next colour on a new brush and putting a quick kiss on his lips before you continued with the makeup. “We’re all Kodzuken fans here.”

Kenma knew some people expected him to act annoyed, but he also knew there was no way to hide how much he loved your soft touches and the concentrated look on your face as your brushes ticked his skin to give him a (supposedly trendy) “rainbow blush”.

There were even more mentions of him online after the video was posted. Now the fans shared screenshots and video clips of him and his partner, discussing how adorable you were together. Couple goals.

masterlist

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

“flu season” - hotch stops by to check on you while you’re home sick (hotch x bau!gn!reader), 1.7k words

cw; mentions of canonical violence, icky sickies, and yearning teehee

———————

You have the flu. 

You have the flu, and it hits you like a bus. 

You have the flu, and it hits you like a bus, and you hate feeling helpless, but you can’t even walk to the bathroom and back without feeling dizzy. 

There’s a waste basket by the bed, lined with a plastic grocery bag. There are four glasses of water, varying in stages of fullness, littered on the nightstand. Your blinds are open because yesterday you wanted to see the sun, but you were too exhausted later in the day to close them. 

Your phone is ringing. You’re groggy, the whole world feeling hazy and heavy, as you lift it from the space in bed beside you and see a call from your boss. When you called Hotch two days ago and told him you were ill, he was incredibly patient with you. Don’t worry about work. Get some rest, he said. Check in so we know you’re okay. Let us know if you need anything. 

You answer the phone on the last ring, and a hoarse, weak voice that is not yours exits your throat. “Hello?” 

“Y/N,” Hotch sounds relieved. Did he think you were dead or something? It’s only the stomach flu. He also never calls you by your first name, which only makes you concerned that something else is gruesomely wrong. “Did you see my calls?” 

You put him on speaker and check your call history. Aaron Hotchner has called you four times in the past six hours. You missed every single one, having drifted in and out of consciousness all day long. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t. Is everything okay?” You ask, thinking something must have happened to him or to one of your teammates. Why else would he be desperate to reach you when you’re home sick? 

“Well, you tell me,” Hotch exhales, an incredulous chuckle lining his voice. The phone muffles the sound, but you know that if you heard it in person, it would sound symphonic. “I was just checking on you, Y/N. I know you’re new to the city.” You sit up a little in bed, as if he were in front of you. “How are you feeling?” 

You run a clammy hand over your sweaty forehead. “Hot,” you blurt out. 

“Excuse me?” Hotch laughs. 

“Hot, like… like a fever. Like I’m running a…” you shake your head at yourself, resisting the urge to scream into your pillow. “Sick. I feel sick, very sick.” 

“What kind of sick?”

What kind of sick? Why would he ask you that? You lean back against the headboard and wonder if he’s trying to determine if you’re faking to get out of work, or if he’s genuinely concerned. You’ve only been with the BAU for a few months, but you feel like you’ve gotten to know everyone fairly well so far. You decide Hotch must just be genuinely concerned. You roll through your symptoms, and Hotchner clears his throat when you’re done speaking. 

“Do you feel strong enough to get to your door?” He asks.

“Huh?”

“Because I’m here. Outside your door.” 

“What?” 

Hotch lets out a breathy laugh, one that seems almost in disbelief of his own actions. “If you don’t want company, I’ll leave, but I thought you might need a hand. I’ve been sick and alone before. It’s not fun.” 

You feel your heart swell a little as you recall what Emily has told you about Hotch. You get little snippets about him from Emily, and from what you understand, he and his ex-wife were painfully separated for a while before she was murdered. You wonder if he was ever stuck at home, ill, during that period of time. 

Hotch says your surname. “Are you still there?” 

“What? Yes. Yes! I’m sorry,” you huff, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. The thought of planting your feet on the ground, however, has you already feeling nauseous. “I don’t, uh… I don’t think I can make it to the door, though,” you squeak. “There’s a spare key under the doormat. But I really look gross, Hotch. And I might be contagious. So, enter at your own risk.”

“I don’t mind, L/N. You keep a key under the - oh, yes, there it is,” you hear Hotch fumble to juggle the key and his phone, and after a moment of static - his hand over the microphone - he hangs up, and you hear the front door of your apartment creak open. “Y/N?” He calls out. 

“In here,” you croak, scrambling under the covers and desperately brushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 

Hotch is standing in the doorway in an instant, still in his suit and tie. You glance at your phone and conclude he must have left work directly to come here. “How do you know where I live?” You mumble as he lifts a full grocery bag. 

“Personnel file,” he shrugs. “How’s your fever?” 

You notice he’s lingering in the doorway. He’s waiting to be invited in. “You don’t have to have a warrant,” you smile weakly and beckon him into your bedroom, a lame attempt at humor. 

He exhales in amusement, and you see the smile on his face - light and mild, and you wonder, if you weren’t sick, would it have been a grin? 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Hotch says as he steps slowly into the room, taking a cold bottle of Gatorade from the grocery bag and setting it on your nightstand. He starts gathering the cups of water into one arm. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you protest, feeling embarrassed of your mess. “Hotch-“

“It’s Aaron, outside of work,” he corrects you, and you see a flash of his teeth. “And you didn’t answer my question. How’s your fever?” 

You swallow. “High? I guess?” You say dumbly. 

A warm hand is pressed against your forehead and you are once again very aware of how clammy it is. “When was the last time you took something?” He asks. 

You check the time again, then do the math in your head. “Five hours ago.” 

“Where’s your medicine?” He asked. You shift in the bed, to stand up, and Hotch - Aaron’s - hand is on your shoulder. “Stay in bed. I’ll get it. Where is it?” 

“Bathroom cabinet,” you point to the bathroom. You want to protest further. You want to apologize for the mess, to ask him why he’s doing this, to ask him if he’d do this for anyone else. But you keep your mouth shut, instead rubbing the space between your brows as the inevitable headache kicks in. 

Aaron’s quickly out of your bedroom. You hear him walk into the kitchen, a few cabinets open and shut, and then he’s in your bathroom, same thing, opening and closing a cabinet. He comes back to you with a few crackers on a plate, a fresh glass of water, and your flu medicine. 

“So, let’s talk about why you think it’s a good idea to keep a spare key under the mat,” Aaron proposes as you take the medicine. You nearly choke on the water in your mouth, but manage to down it. His face gives him away - he’s not mad, not even disappointed, just smirky. Teasing and playful were not words you would use to describe Aaron Hotchner. 

Until right now. 

You open your mouth to speak, but Aaron cuts you off. “You spend your whole week working gory murders, kidnappings, terrorist threats. You know that the key under the mat is the oldest trick in the book. Why do you do it?” He asks, leaning against the wall beside your bed. 

“You can sit, if you want?” You offer, pointing to the desk chair in the corner. “Your legs must be tired from hanging out up there on that high horse.” 

Hotch just lets a low chuckle escape him as he rolls the desk chair over. He keeps a respectful distance from your bed, but still crosses his ankles and leans back, like he’s sat there a thousand times. Like he’s somehow comfortable. He looks at you expectantly, as if to say don’t make me ask again. 

“Well,” you feel a bit sheepish, because he is right. Keeping a key under your doormat is pretty dumb. “I guess I figure, most people are smart enough to not do it, so the kidnappers and rapists would assume I would be smart enough, too, so they wouldn’t even look under the mat.” 

Aaron’s expression is priceless, and he opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. “I’ll just give a spare to someone I trust, how about that?” You suggest, knowing intuitively that the lecture was only going to continue. 

Aaron gives you a nod of approval, and you lean back against the headboard again, stifling a yawn. “I can go, if you want to rest some more?” he proffers, rising from his seat. 

“You don’t have to,” you say quickly, uncontrollably. The words were locked and loaded in your throat before you could think twice. “I mean, I’m probably going to fall asleep soon, but I wouldn’t mind the company. For a little while.” 

You wonder how visibly red your face is.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alive,” Aaron chuckles, his polite, subtle way of declining your invitation, of making sure boundaries are still intact. You know Hotchner is a rule-follower. You admire that about him. “I’ll let you get some rest,” his hand extends, as if to reach out to you. You wonder if he’s going to touch you. His hand retracts after a moment that seems to last for an eternity. 

As Aaron walks towards the bedroom door, he turns around and smiles at you. It’s a real smile. It’s soft. You want to press it like a flower petal, between two book pages, and keep it in a jar on your shelf. 

“I brought you some soup for when you feel up to eating. It’s in your refrigerator,” he says. He taps his hands against the door frame. “Feel better, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow to check on you.” 

Aaron Hotchner leaves your apartment a minute later, and you fall asleep shortly after that. Your head is still pounding, and your stomach is twisted in knots, but it’s not from the nausea.