#and he's stressed as fuck so it would contribute to it

[sting-raes]

sometimes I wonder if I draw Elliott a bit too old for the age I hc him to be around :v (early-mid 30s)

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[eric-the-bmo]

[head in hands] oughghgghhhhhh

[can-youimagine]

Mix Up (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer sends the wrong note.

TW: adult themes, embarrassment

Word Count: 1499

Masterlist

Everyone in the BAU contributed something to make the team feel like a family. Rossi opened his house and cooked for the team. Morgan and Hotch were always quick to praise a member for their accomplishments. Penelope always made sure that she had treats for anyone who might be having a bad day. You left notes for everyone. After each case, someone got a note, telling them how much you appreciated them and their contributions. 

Last week, Hotch got a note. He tucked it into his bag with a smile before making sure to thank you and tell you how much you are appreciated on the team. 

Today, it was Spencer’s turn to receive a note. The two of you had roomed together for this case, and you saw how much of a toll it took on him. He shouldn’t say he is surprised to see a note on his desk, but he is.

Spencer,

I can’t imagine how difficult this case was for you. You don’t have to be brave all the time, y’know. It’s okay for you to be scared. You are human, even if you know more than a computer. I am so proud of the work you accomplished and more than grateful for it. Know that I am proud of you, always. 

You are the person I can trust with anything. You are the only member of the team who I worry about, even when we’re not out on a case. Not because I think you can’t handle yourself but because I know you’re worrying about all of us. Please, don’t let me be the cause of any of your stress. 

I wish I could keep writing, but I can barely keep my eyes open.

With love,

(Y/N).

He smiles widely at the note, tucking it into his bag before anyone else has a chance to see it. After all, you didn’t write it for anyone else. You wrote it for him. You thought of him outside the case, and you thought that you wanted to make him feel good. The more he thinks about it, the more light-headed he becomes. He heads to the kitchenette, eager to get a cup of coffee and hide his growing blush. 

You’ve left him five notes in the last year. Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, he is certain he would have each word memorized. He’s memorized every interaction you’ve had with them. Though, he knows these memories aren’t quite perfect. Every time a memory is retrieved, it becomes altered, and he has replayed every memory more times than he can count. He’s replayed them, he’s altered them, he’s even added to them. 

If he could bring you just a fraction of the joy that you bring him, he would be able to rest easy. The way his heart flips every time he gets a note from you gives him the perfect idea of how to please you.

When he gets home, he sits at his desk, trying to come up with something to say to you, but nothing feels right. How is he supposed to tell you how much you mean to him without telling you just how much you mean to him? Finally, he picks up his pen, deciding that if he writes a draft of what he wants to say first, he’ll be able to write what he should say.

(Y/N),

You are more appreciated than you know. I love you more than you know. Yes, this case was hard for me, but the biggest challenge was sharing a room with you. It’s always tough to sleep on cases, but how am I supposed to get any sleep when I’m only a few feet from you? When, if you’d let me, I’d be able to sleep in your arms? When I’d be able to touch you, kiss you, fuck you?

God, it’s all I could think about. I shouldn’t even tell you what I was thinking. It’s not even just what I was thinking when we were on the case. I think about you constantly. I think of how kind you are, how much praise you give. I can’t help but wonder if you would receive praise just as well. If, when I tell you that you were made for my cock, you would fall apart. If I could, I would give you all the praise in the world just to see you break, watch you come undone, on my cock, on my fingers, on my tongue.

I know you would taste incredible. What I wouldn’t give to get even a taste. Though, I know I wouldn’t be able to stop at just a taste. I’d have to be selfish, and I know you wouldn’t complain.

Spencer slides his chair away from his desk. He quickly folds the paper and sets it aside. Now that that’s done, he gets to work on his actual letter. A much tamer, much safer for work, much friendlier letter that lets you know that you are appreciated.

Again, he folds the note, writing your name on the outside, and sets it aside. 

When he leaves in the morning, he grabs the note off his desk, tucking it into his bag. He frowns, noticing that your car is already in the garage. He had hoped that he could leave the note on your desk as a surprise, but there’s no doubt that you’re already working on your files. He decides that he’ll drop it on your desk as he walks by then hide in the breakroom while you read it.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed by what he said, and he meant every word. It just feels like an invasion of privacy to watch you, and he’s not sure how he would be able to carry on with the day if he saw even the hint of a frown on your face.

The elevator opens, and he sets his plan into motion. He unpacks his bag, sliding the note into his hand before walking past your desk. 

“Spencer, you dropped something,” you call, but he keeps walking, and out of the corner of his eye, he watches you open the note. That’s when he realizes his mistake. Your name is nowhere on the back of the paper. He panics but keeps walking. What is he supposed to say? “Sorry, that actually isn’t meant for you, I mean it is, but you definitely should not be reading that, in a completely normal not creepy way.”?

He focuses on his coffee, He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. If hwatching the sugar dissolve. He’s lucky, he’ll be able to hide in here all day and never have to look at you again.

Spencer Reid is very rarely at a loss for words. He can almost always come up with something to say. Now, as he walks back into the bullpen, he has no clue what he can say to you. 

It appears that he doesn’t have to. You aren’t at your desk anymore, much to Spencer’s relief. He turns his focus to the papers in front of him. Files that normally wouldn’t take him more than ten minutes are taking almost an hour. He doesn’t look up until he hears a door open.

Hotch’s office door.

He closes his eyes, praying there isn’t a case already. He doesn’t hear Hotch. Instead, he hears footsteps walk down the stairs and into the bullpen. Hesitantly, he opens his eyes. You are getting settled at your desk.

No, no, no, no, no.

You did not go to Hotch after reading his note. You couldn’t have. You would have talked to him before you got him fired, right?

“What was that about?” Emily asks you. You turn to answer, and Spencer is trying to listen, but Morgan grabs his attention first.

“What’s with you?”

“What do you mean?”

Morgan rolls his eyes. “I’m finishing these files faster than you.”

Spencer shrugs. “I’m just distracted, that’s all.”

“Hey, you know we’re here for you, right?”

“I know,” he answers, looking back at the file. 

The day continues without you talking to him, and he sure as hell isn’t going to talk to you. Since Hotch hasn’t come down to fire him, Spencer assumes that his job is safe.

You get up around noon, stretching as you do. You grab your bag, a piece of paper between your fingers. You let it fall as you walk passed his desk. Spencer quickly picks it up, unfolding it.

Spencer,

Buy me dinner, and I’ll make sure you get something sweet.

He rereads the sentence over and over again. He’s convinced it’s some sort of joke, but he holds onto the hope that it isn’t and that he actually hasn’t fucked this up beyond belief.

When you come back, you glance at him. If he wasn’t a profiler, he’s not sure he would’ve caught it, but you seem nervous. He smiles to himself. 

[cherryinchainss]

♡ don’t cry baby ♡

word count: 0.7k

pairing: stepbrother anakin x fem reader

WARNINGS: NSFW (18+), stepcest, dryhumping, reader is drunk, stepbrother anakin being soft as fuck, i think that’s it???

plot: stepbrother anakin got mad at his stepsister and feels bad so he tries to cheer her up

a/n: short lil thing to test the waters. this is the first smuttyish thing i’ve posted in three years??? i can’t tell if i like this or hate it. anyways, enjoy. maybe more will come.

anakin couldn’t stand to see his step sister upset. he’d just chewed her out for the last hour when he caught her sneaking back into her bedroom via window after staying out all night at a frat house party. he lectured her about the clothes she wore or should he say “the clothes she wore that barely covered her fucking body” and the boys she surrounded herself with cause he knew what they were thinking, he could practically hear what they probably thought when she waltzed into that house.

he didn’t mean to make you cry, he would never do that. he cared about you too much and hated seeing you upset. it broke his heart to see your pretty face covered in tears. he pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, planting kisses along your forehead, nose and cheeks trying to get you to cheer up.

“no baby- please don’t cry, you know what it does to me” anakin said softly as he tucked your hair behind your ear and wiped a tear away from your cheek. he studied your face to see if he could see even a glimmer of happiness in your glossy eyes.

he knew the alcohol you consumed was probably a huge contribution as to why you were so upset. you not so gracefully stumbled through your bedroom window smelling like a brewery. but fuck, if he didn’t raise his voice you probably would be peacefully sleeping by now.

“i didn’t mean to make you angry ani” you said in between sobs “please don’t be angry at me” you looked down at your hands anxiously.

“i’m not mad at you baby” he said sounding defeated as he cupped your face, making you look back up at him in his eyes. “you just stress me the fuck out sometimes” he chuckled lightly, wiping another tear away. his thumb went down to your pouty lips, tracing them lightly.

anakin’s hands went down to yor hips, guiding you to grind slowly against him. anakin knew this was something he could always count on to make his step sister feel better. it wasn’t morally wrong because they technically weren’t having sex. but, maybe that was just something he made up in his head to push away his guilt.

“come on baby, i wouldn’t be doing this if i was mad at you” he said softly. you nodded your head in agreement, beginning to rock your hips on your own.

anakin let out a low grunt as your head leaned back in pleasure, biting your bottom lip in the way that drove him crazy in the best way possible. anakin placed his hand on your lower back to support you from falling backwards, his other hand snaked up to under your skirt, cupping your ass and giving it a light squeeze.

“ani- it feels so good” you whined, feeling the familiar sensation growing in your stomach, like you were at the top of a rollercoaster, about to swiftly go down the steep drop. anakin eyes widened at the way your face contorted, the way he’s seen too many times to count. he quickly grabbed you by the back of the head, tangling his fingers in your hair as he crashed your lips together to muffle your moans as your climax took over every sensation in your body, your brain becoming completely empty, the only thoughts being the pleasure washing down on you and anakin. your nails dug into his arms as your hip movements became sloppier against his stiff cock under his sweatpants, the overwhelming feeling fucking up your rhythm. his muffled moans matched yours as your climax pushed him over the edge, making him shoot ropes of cum into his pants. your legs went limp causing you to slow down your movements until you came to a complete stop on top of him, shaky and out of breath you pulled away from his kiss, looking at him with a light, tired smile on your face.

“baby, you know i love the sound of you moaning but shit, imagine if your daddy heard you cumming all over my lap.” he said in a whisper, a smirk growing on his face.

“feeling better?”

[deakyjoe]

Misfire

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (afab)

Category: smut, fluff

Summary: After a long day, Copia gets a little too excited at finally seeing you.

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, premature ejaculation, kissing, groping, cum eating, shower sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, f receiving oral, cream pie, established relationship, stressed Copia, needy Copia, hurt/comfort, praise kink, fluff

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Every horny thought I had previously about Copia that had been pushed to the back of my mind with the insistence of “I don’t need to write that” came back in full swing after RHRN and manifested into this. Title comes from the song of the same name by Queen.

Consider buying me a coffee :)

The day had been long and stressful. Like most days were. And there was nothing Copia wanted more than to be back in his room, in bed, with you underneath him or his face buried between your legs. It was the only suitable way to unwind after a difficult day in his opinion. Fucking you.

As soon as his last meeting was done, and he'd managed to convince Sister Imperator that the latest pile of paperwork she'd dumped on his desk could wait for tomorrow, he was out the door and practically running to go and find you. Thankfully, you were exactly where you always were at the end of the day. You were waiting for him back in his rooms, ready to do whatever he needed to feel better.

The door swung open with an unceremonious thwack against the wall, door handle banging into the paint and contributing to the dent that already existed there. It slammed back into its frame behind Copia, all cares about possibly disturbing his neighbours gone. He just needed you.

At the clattering sounds of him appearing, you looked up from the book you were reading and immediately stood to greet him. "Hello, my love. How was your day?"

Copia dismissed your question with a wave of his hand, instead marching towards you with purpose. "No time. Need you."

You didn't have much time to react but the page of the book you were on was forgotten as the item fell to the seat of the chair you were previously situated on, and you prepared yourself to be met with his hands that were already outstretched towards you.

His pace was fast. So fast in fact that when he collided against you, mouth slanting over yours with the slightest clash of teeth, you stumbled back a couple of paces. Luckily, his arms were tightly wound around you in time to steady you and prevent you from falling.

The kiss was messy and desperate, the low whine he let out at the relief of finally touching you telling you everything you needed to know about the state of his day. It obviously hadn't been a good one. But you knew how to solve that.

For Copia, no amount of contact was enough. He was glad that he'd forgone his Cardinal vestments for the day, one less layer between the two of you. One of his hands pushed into the small of your back to draw your body as close as possible to his. The other was on the back of your head to keep your lips firmly pressed against his. On top of that he was leaning forward, almost bending you backwards and making your spine arch in a slightly uncomfortable position, to make sure you didn't leave his embrace for even a second.

His tongue licked hotly and urgently into your mouth and it wasn't long before you could feel him growing hard between you. It didn't take much on days like this. So without breaking away from him, because you knew that would make his day even worse, you slowly started to guide him back towards his bed.

Copia hadn't realised that the two of you were moving, too distracted by the feeling of you, until the backs of his legs hit the wooden frame. He hummed against your mouth in appreciation, you always knew what he needed. Not like it was difficult to tell when he was being like this.

He whimpered when you had to break apart in order to get on the bed, hands not leaving you for a second as you crawled on and collapsed against the pillows and he climbed on top of you. Not a second was wasted as he went back to kissing you, pushing your thighs apart so he could slot himself between them and rest almost the entirety of his body weight on you.

One of his hands roamed you, sliding up underneath the hem of your shirt to gain access to your skin. Even if he couldn't feel it because of his gloves, knowing that the leather was on your bare flesh was enough for him. Your own hands were tangled in his hair, letting the strands run a little looser after being pristine for the day, and pulling him as impossibly closer as you could. You knew he liked it when you showed how you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

It didn't take long before his lustful impulses took over and the friction of your bodies against each other had him pushing his pelvis into yours with a snap of his hips.

"Fuck." He hissed against your mouth, hips rutting forward again. "I'm sorry. I can't- I can't stop, it feels so good."

You slid your hands down to cup his face in your palms, thumbs swiping across his cheeks to calm him down. "Copia, my love, if it feels good then don't stop."

His mouth fell open, a protest dying on his lips when he saw how genuine you were being about the idea, brows scrunching together in pleasure as he let himself rut against you again. After that, all control was lost.

His mouth crashed back over yours, desperate to feel as much of you as possible. He chased the feeling that was steadily building, convinced that he could do this for just a little while longer before he took your clothes off and actually fucked you.

But you knew better.

You could tell he was getting close by the whines he was letting out into your mouth getting higher in both pitch and frequency. His hips were also rutting against you at a much faster rate, almost frantic. Then suddenly he stilled, limbs going rigid and jaw falling open around a long groan of elated satisfaction.

He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the side of your neck and heavy pants tickling your skin. You let your hands slide around to his back, tracing patterns with your finger tips along his clothes.

Copia sighed suddenly, mumbling against your ear. "I'm so sorry. I, eh, I don't know what happened."

"It's okay." You replied, a content smile gracing your lips. He didn't need to apologise, there was nothing you loved more than his happiness. And if that was caused by him coming in his pants just through some dry humping? Then you were all too pleased for him. You let him rest for a couple more minutes, allowing his breathing rate to slow down, before suggesting something that always made him feel better. "Let's go get you cleaned up, hm? Shower?"

The smile in his voice was evident. "Okey dokey."

He slowly pushed himself up, hands running down the lengths of your legs to keep in contact with you as you yourself also sat up. You took his hands in yours as you started to lead him towards his en suite bathroom, letting him wind his arms around your waist and push his face into the side of your neck to keep you close.

When you got to the bathroom, and looked in the mirror, you found that the black paint he applied to his top lip every day was now smeared around your mouth. This was a common occurrence.

You pointed it out to him anyway. "Look, we're matching."

And Copia smiled like he always did. "It suits you."

You rolled your eyes at the same line he always gave you, biting down on your bottom lip to smother the grin it always brought to your face. After switching the shower on, you gave it a minute to warm up as you started to help Copia remove his clothes. He let you do it, a fond smile on his face as he noticed your eyebrows pinch in concentration.

His thighs were sticky from your previous activities and your eyes lit up at the sight. Copia's own eyes practically popped out of his head as he watched you swipe a finger through the mess and then suck it off into your mouth with a pleased hum.

That was all it took for him to start ripping your clothes off and then push you into the shower whilst you giggled at his new found energy.

"Slow down, my love. We have time and you could probably use a minute." You glanced down to where he was hanging soft and pulled him under the hot stream of water with you to start cleaning him off.

Copia's head rested on your shoulder, his hair dripping into his eyes and making his black eye makeup start running, as you lathered him up with soap and got to work gently washing the day's stress away. Once he was spotless you pressed a kiss against his neck to tell him you were done and he stood up straight to look at you.

An adoring smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he cupped your face in a bare palm and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. He kissed you quickly, softly, and then sank down onto his knees. He gazed up at you, mismatched eyes wide and almost vulnerable, black paint cascading from his eyes. You used your thumbs to wipe the mess away before giving him the go ahead with a small nod.

Copia dived in between your thighs, enthusiastically licking at every inch he could reach. His eyes closed in pleasure, moans rumbling through his chest and out of his mouth against you. The fingers of one of your hands threaded through his hair, encouraging him, the other steadying you against the wall to hold yourself up. He was always so keen to please, so desperate to know he was doing well, so that's exactly what you gave him.

"Mhm, just like that." You sighed, meeting his opened eyes. "Good boy."

He whined against you, somehow pushing his face further into you and bumping his nose against your clit. One of his large hands splayed across the plains of your thigh, tips of his fingers pressing into the soft flesh and pushing your leg up to hook your knee over his shoulder. That only gave him better access and a new angle. As much as you wanted to stay composed for him, to keep praising him, the new sensation had a choked cry leaving your mouth and your head dropping backwards in pleasure.

Copia licked and sucked with determination, working towards the goal of getting you to orgasm against his face. He kept a close watch on every reaction you gave, making sure to keep his eyes open now so he didn’t miss a single response you gave to anything he did. Water rained down onto his head, beating against his face and making it harder to see, but he didn’t care. He only cared about making you feel good. Because you always made him feel good. He loved to return the favour.

Your toes curled, thighs clenching around him and drawing him closer against you. Copia knew then that the end goal was arriving soon and this only motivated him further, his rapid motions only picking up further like a man starved. The fingers carded in his hair tightened, tugging on the roots harshly, and Copia groaned loudly, sending vibrations rippling through you. That tipped you over the edge.

A smile spread across his face as you rocked your hips against it, chasing the high that he’d given you. Once it had eased out to a warm glow Copia stood again, wincing as his knees cracked.

“You need to be more careful, my love. Your joints can’t handle positions like those anymore.” You hummed, cupping his face in your hands.

“For you I will bear the pain and get on my knees any day.” He retorted as he leaned in to kiss you.

The proximity alerted you to the fact that he was hard again and you pulled away from him with a startled squeak and looked down to where he was pressing against your stomach.

“Bad days make you like a horny teenager.” You chuckled, not complaining in the slightest.

“No, you make me like a horny teenager.” He countered and kissed you again, tongue lapping into your mouth so you could taste yourself on him.

Steam from the hot shower had clouded the room but neither of you cared as Copia pushed you against the wall and slid into you. You both gasped lowly into each other’s mouths in gratification at the feeling, him lifting one of your legs to give him better access.

He fucked you slowly and lovingly, a strong contrast to the way he’d been rutting against you earlier. But that had been for relief. This was for comfort. He took his time with it, letting the sensation build slowly as to not rush it this time. And you were all too happy to let him have you anyway he wanted you.

Water cascaded between you, causing his body to slip against yours with ease and making it difficult to breathe between kisses. But neither of you cared, not being able to bear being too far away from each other for even a fraction of a second.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your second orgasm, despite the slow pace. And the feeling of you clenching around him meant Copia wasn’t far behind. He stilled as he came inside you, pumping a few more times to make sure he filled you.

After a few more kisses, he slid out of you with a hiss and it was his turn to wash you. He babbled about how much he loved you, a mix of English and Italian and what you thought to be some Latin leaving his mouth in hushed tones. You could only smile back, knowing he knew how much you loved him too.

Once the shower was done, and the steam started to clear, you dried each other off and giggled about meaningless things. You pointed out how much you adored the greys in his hair as you ruffled his head with a towel. He pointed out the bite mark he’d left on your thigh that you hadn’t even noticed he’d given you in the shower as he wiped water droplets off of your skin.

When you returned to the bedroom and started searching for some pyjamas for you to wear, one of his fingers tracing up and down the line of your spine, he informed you that he wanted to sleep naked. To feel you as close to him as possible. You agreed with a simple nod of your head. And when you crawled into bed, you told Copia how much he meant to you. He only blushed and returned the sentiment.

With the lights off, mumbles of affectionate praises, promises of eternal love, and soft kisses were exchanged until the two of you fell into a peaceful sleep wrapped in each other's arms.

A/N: this started out as something meant to be strictly horny and then turned all sweet at the end?? Anyway, hope you enjoyed my first dive into Copia fanfic!

[a-b-riddle]

Not to make yall sad, but I was so stressed over paying the remaining balance on the wedding and I had a panic attack.

I’ve just been paying it on my own up until this point, never asking for help and my fiancé paid for half of the venue. But all the little details and stuff, I handled.

Today it reached a peak, looking at the remaining balance, knowing I’m going to have to live with the bare essentials and eat at work or put it on my credit card (which sent me into a panic attack)

So I called him (I wasn’t home) and told him that I’m just so overwhelmed and idk how I’m gonna do it.

And he just says “you tell me what need I need to pay”. When I argued it was too much he argued back that he has savings. He has a credit card.

I cried. Feeling like a failure for having to ask him for help. I hate asking for money. When my dad blocked my mom, I had to ask for child support anytime I saw him which ended up making me feel like such a burden.

Now I’m marrying a man who just says “tell me what you need, tell me what I need to do” and he just does it. When I went to explain the cost breakdown and why we needed what, he stopped me. Told me I don’t need to justify it. He doesn’t need to know what it’s for.

I have always had a hard time asking for help. Allowing myself to drown before asking for any help. And when at the mention of feeling overwhelmed, I have a partner who is all in.

I know it’s stupid not feeling able to ask my fiancé for financial contribution for our wedding but I have this mindset of “I picked out the DJ I pay for it” or “I wanted it so I gotta pay for it.” It’s silly but I had a dad who I felt so pressured by giving child support I would go over expenses for school supplies, clothes or other necessities.

I am so fucking blessed that my kids will never have that dad.

[americankimchi]

Do you have any tips for writing Obi Wan or any meta in mind with his characterizarion?

hmmm sure why not! i'll give a few tips on how i'd write obi-wan. mind you this is how i interpret the character, so ymmv.

i truly do not like it when fics have obi-wan voluntarily leaving the order. like it's so out-of-character for me in my head that the premise of the story + the writing would have to work triple-time to get me to stick around. now if he's been removed from it by an EXTERNAL SOURCE (not the order. i cannot stress this enough: the jedi kicking obi-wan out is so jarring to me i'll leave the fic in an instant) or somehow unable to return to the order for whatever reason, all is well.

not a prodigy, but a genius. obi-wan is an incredibly intelligent person with an absolutely staggering knowledge base in a wide variety of topics, but all that knowledge was earned through blood, sweat, tears, and time. he sat down with his game face on and put in the work. that's also why he makes an excellent teacher: he knows what most students will struggle with because he struggled too, and knows through experience how best to overcome them. i headcanon that it contributes to why he's such a good negotiator: he's really good at stripping down information to the essentials and communicating that information effectively and efficiently to others because of his intense study habits.

humble, but not ignorant of his skills. it's pretty impossible to fully divorce yourself from pride in your achievements, and i don't think it's healthy to not feel any pride at all, so i think obi-wan has a very clear understanding of his skillset and how best to use it. i don't think he'd be ignorant of how good he is at something, especially since the direct consequence of his aptitude led him to being a member of the jedi council. pretty hard to be blind to your strengths when you're being asked for your input on topics that directly draw from that knowledge.

averse to healthcare. listen i enjoy obi-wan whump just as much as the next obi-wan stan (the desire to put him in the cosmic salad spinner comes with the territory, i fear) but as a character who grew up in an environment that deeply cares for the well-being of all, and knowing that you cannot help others unless you yourself first have the ability to do so, i can't really see him ignoring injuries outside of combat scenarios. like on the battlefield he's got more pressing concerns than a pesky little shrapnel wound or five, but once the battle's over?? he might not be first in line to the medics but i can't see him avoiding them entirely. an army without a general is working at a sharp disadvantage and i don't think he'd risk his men by neglecting his physical health in that manner. note that i said 'physical'. make of that what you will :)

duty. obi-wan is the definition of a paladin. he takes an oath and by the force he's going to keep it. train the boy? absolutely, qui-gon. whether or not anakin chooses to respect that training is another matter, but he did definitively get knighted! refuse to kill anakin? listen he's handed vader his own ass to him twice post order 66 and each time he did it he did it nonlethally. that takes skill. that takes dedication. exile yourself to tatooine for 19 years and then decide fuck it, we ball, and die after Once Again Deciding Not To Kill Anakin Skywalker? step aside casper, there's a new friendly ghost in town. every time obi-wan commits to something the man COMMITS. you GOTTA respect that grind.

flirty but in the sense that he's going to match the energy someone brings to the table. like he's a negotiator. he knows how to read people and figure out the Vibes. if he thinks the other person will be 1) 100% receptive and 2) will respond with a delightful wit, why the hell not? obi-wan's highest stat is charisma and he's got expertise in persuasion. whether they're allies or not does not factor into this equation. he can have a little flirtation with morally dubious and potentially hostile characters. as a treat.

this has nothing to do with his character but i firmly believe that he and quinlan vos had at LEAST a fling when they were padawans. there is zero evidence to back this up aside from a few comics where they were being goofy teenagers together but i stand by this. it is an unshakeable aspect of obi-wan to me that has only gotten worse with the kenobi show.

no matter what, no matter how terrible or devastating or downright apocalyptic it gets, obi-wan kenobi will never fall to the dark side. never. it won't be easy, but that is a line he has never, and will never cross. i will not hear any "obi-wan touched the dark side during the theed generator fight" slander. if that was true tell me why the force theme was playing during his moment of triumph!!! Would John Williams Lie To Us Like That?? to our face?????

anyways i could go on forever about obi-wan because he is My Ultimate Blorbo but this post is getting super long so i'll leave it there. hope this helped even a little or at the very least was entertaining for you to read <3

[snakes-writing-corner]

Mr. Puzzles Fluff Alphabet

Requested by… Me!

Coming out of hibernation ‘cause there is not enough Mr. Puzzles x Reader content out there so I am contributing to the pile because the hyperfixation I have on this man has me in a fucking death-grip.

It is 2 in the morning when I’m posting this so yippie brain-rot!!!

Anyways alphabet under the cut :D

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Very. I mean you are kind of the only person who’s ever bothered to get close to him!

He was extremely clingy when the two of you were just friends, but now that you’re his partner? That’s increased tenfold.

He’s very unpredictable so he’s pretty much a wildcard when it comes to ways he’ll show affection.

Sometimes he’ll gently pull you along by grabbing your wrist, sometimes he’ll nuzzle into your hair or neck, maybe he’ll cup your face like you’re a glass sculpture that might shatter, and sometimes he’ll just pick you up and twirl you around. Honestly? This lovable director will show you any kind of physical affection under the sun.

I do think he particularly would like to hold your hand though. He likes the warmth of your hand in his, and how it’s so small compared to his. It’s like your hand was just made for him to hold!

Overall, any physical affection is fine by him as long as he gets to touch or hold you!

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)

I fear having this man as a best friend because that means chaos.

Yes being in a romantic relationship with him would be chaos, but a friendship I feel would be more chaotic somehow???

Will break your door down to get an opinion on a new show he’s been working on, and will absolutely pester you until you comply.

Would probably get you to star in said show and then poke fun at you the entire time. Lovingly of course mind you!

Lots of talk sessions where the two of you just talk shit about other people because this man lives for drama, like wants the tea on everyone.

Would break into your house at 2 in the morning to steal food like a fucking rat (I say this in a loving way).

Anyways being besties with him means say goodbye to your doors because he’s kicking them all down to get your attention.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddling is definitely a must!!! Like he would love to cuddle!!!

This man has no preference to cuddling he just wants to hold you close to him! Definitely big spoon no questions asked, but he also loves having you lay on his chest.

I think his favorite way to cuddle though would be on his side with you snuggled into his chest. You would probably look very small compared to him like his body would basically envelop yours, but hey he’d be very warm at least! Mr. Puzzles would probably just lazily comb through your hair with the goofiest smile on his face, whispering little words of affirmation under his breath as he did so.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they around the house?)

Oh definitely! But, after he becomes all rich and famous! He wants the best life for you after all!

Definitely a housewife though when he’s not busy working on his shows, like this man is a workaholic. I genuinely think he enjoys cleaning and repetitive tasks in general, helps him think.

When working on his shows or stressed? Yeah no the living space can easily become a train-wreck as he gets increasingly more frustrated over whatever he’s working on.

You could probably leave the studio on any given day, and either come back to it spotless or a wreck. There’s like a 50/50 shot whenever you leave.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Nuh-uh, not happening, you are literally stuck with him now, and he is NEVER LETTING YOU GO. :)

Yeah that’s definitely not concerning! Good luck my guy because Mr. Puzzles has some attachment issues, and will not leave you no matter what you do!

But hey! You probably won’t get to leave him either! At least he won’t let you without a fight! (Get this man some therapy or something)

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Very big on commitment honestly part of him wants all of your attention to himself, but he loves you enough to not go that far.

I think he’d be kinda iffy on marriage. On one hand he could throw this big event for the two of you, letting everyone know you’re his.

On the other, he’s fine not getting married at all! As far as he’s concerned as long as you’re completely committed to him romantically there’s not really a reason to get married?

Honestly whether he gets married to you or not would depend on your preference.

Would probably still get you an engagement ring of some kind no matter what your answer is, just so others’ know you’re committed to someone.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Oh my god this man? Gentle as a feather physically. Emotionally? He tries to be as gentle as he can, but that temper gets the better of him sometimes.

He holds you like you are glass about to shatter, like he’s holding the most precious thing in the world.

Cups your face in his gloved hand and just admires you like the most beautiful art piece ever created. Might even lightly bump his screen against your head wondering how he got so lucky.

Most of the time he’s a bit aloof regarding your emotions he likes to tease you after all!

But in serious moments his tone will get noticeably softer as he listens, and tries to help you with whatever you are dealing with in anyway he can.

Now granted, Puzzles gets frustrated easily, and might lash out at you occasionally or straight up manipulate you, but he tries to make up for it.

Just be patient with him.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?)

Yes.

Hugs are a constant thing with this man he loves to hug and hold you. Though he will probably pick you up to hold you.

Most of the time he’ll come up from behind, pick you up, spin you around a bit, saying something like “There’s my little angel!”, and then hug you!

Definitely puts his screen to your head and makes a loud “mwah!” sound.

He’s a dork when it comes to hugging he wants to make you smile, that and he just likes having you close to him.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

After you get together?

All. The. Time.

Not in a bad way of course he wants you to know he absolutely adores you! Words of affirmation are part of his love language after all!

Says stuff like “I love you my precious starlight.” or “Gosh you’re just so cute! I truly do love you when you give me that look my dear!”

He is serious every time he says it though, but will not hesitate to fluster you with that phrase.

Can imagine him saying “I love you.” in a low husky voice to make you weak in the knees.

He likes to see you get all red in the face and become a stuttering mess. He’s a tease like that. :)

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Puzzles has attachment issues this man gets extremely jealous very quickly.

If he thinks anyone is getting even a little touchy with you? He’s walking over, putting his arms around you, and talking to the offender with fake enthusiasm and venom in his voice.

The person doesn’t get the hint? Lightly veiled threats start coming out.

Would resort to violence as a last resort.

If it’s a more light version of jealousy he’ll probably dramatically pout in the corner with his arms crossed until you come over and give him attention.

He’s very dramatic with jealously like a dog not getting attention when it wants it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Uhhhh I mean he has a TV for a head he can’t exactly kiss you per se.

But Puzzles tries to make it work! Most commonly he’ll gently tap his screen to your head or hands with a little electric shock to give the illusion of an actual kiss.

Is not much for you kissing his screen though since he’ll have to clean it afterwards…

But you want to get this man to melt into you? He loves being kissed on the neck, or on the bottom of his TV, might as well send sparks through his entire body. Would definitely love neck bites as well.

Honestly would not care where you kiss him he’s just happy getting your affection.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

I think he’d be pretty good around children at least outwardly.

Probably would be trying to entertain them with cartoons or little puppet shows.

Do not think he’d actively put himself in a situation to be around children though. I don’t think he likes them very much.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Puzzles would get up without waking you, get dressed, get some coffee, and then would make the two of you breakfast.

You typically tend to wake up before he’s finished, but if you aren’t then he’ll gladly give you breakfast in bed!

Would make fun of you for being a sleepyhead though.

Mornings with Puzzles would start off quiet, but get progressively louder as you both wake up a bit.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

I feel like nights go one of two ways.

Either A. Chaotic as hell or B. Actually nice

A chaotic as hell night includes Mr. Puzzles having some sort of mental break which results in him overworking himself and refusing to go to sleep and/or him frantically at a board with a bunch of papers on it trying to come up with ideas.

While this rarely happens it can if his shows aren’t doing as well as he would like or if you’re gone for long periods of time. The best thing to do here is gently talk to him and get him away from his area of work to help him calm down. A nice cup of hot tea or hot cocoa would help as well!

A nice night is more common though since Puzzles does think sleep is important. Probably ends with the two of you winding down by either cuddling in bed or watching TV (an actual TV though not his head he likes being able to hold you) while you two have blankets and/or hot tea to sip on.

Alternatively you two will cuddle in bed and just talk about whatever comes to mind until you two fall asleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s pretty open about his past but not so much about what he doesn’t want you to see.

He shares stories from when he was a kid a lot, mainly about his mom, (I get a huge mama’s boy vibe from him) or his struggles making friends and connections until you showed up.

Also talks about his frustrations about getting into directing shows and how no corporate big shot would give him a chance so that’s how he made his own company! Also loves talking about ideas for new shows or really anything that comes to mind this man has no filter and just says what pops in his head.

He does not talk about things he doesn’t want you to know. Mainly that he smokes but he’s also definitely done some fucked up stuff in the past to get where he is today so he keeps that under wraps.

Wouldn’t want his darling angel to worry about those little hiccups~

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

We are literally talking about the person who sang about how ‘patience is a virtue uttered by fools’ this man has close to none.

He gets very frustrated and angry when things don’t go how he planned them to. He also can get frustrated if you don’t tell him things.

While he never tries to direct his anger at you he tends to lash out when frustrated and says things he doesn’t mean. However, he would probably apologize in the end if he really hurt you with his words.

Would never think of getting physically violent with you though he would much rather cut off his own head again than do that.

It would be very odd hot to see the man who holds you so gently be able to so easily make a sizable dent in a metal object.

Definitely has punched many holes in the walls and covered it up with something.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

My guy.

My buddy.

This man will remember every little thing you have told him about anything you like. He has a little notebook dedicated to writing little details about you so he doesn’t forget.

Knows just about everything you’ve either off-handedly mentioned about yourself or straight up told him.

Has various things written down like your favorite color, food, drink, cartoon, etc. Like literally anything you can think of that you could say about yourself he probably has written down.

Also has a page just describing how much he loves your looks down to the littlest detail but that’s not as important.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you two officially became partners.

He was so anxious to ask on the inside but kept the outwardly performance up as he was desperately trying to figure out how to go about it.

He broke one night and frantically made a board full of ideas for what he could do, but none of them were good enough! You deserved so much more than-than this!

You just so happened to walk into this scenario but Mr. Puzzles didn’t notice you as he was too focused on his board. You heard him muttering to himself about how “this had to be perfect” and “no, no that wouldn’t-”.

You eventually got concerned and walked up to him, accidentally scaring the living daylights out of him by the way, and as he tried to stutter something out you realized just what the board was about.

You then looked at him as he was still trying to come up with an excuse and just looked at him with wide eyes as you just blurted “And here I was scrambling to figure out a way to ask you out myself.”.

Puzzles just stared at you wide eyes and shouted “Wait really!?”

Anyways that night ended with you two just watching a movie on the couch and you’ve been together ever since.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

Oh very protective.

Like you get scary tall guard dog partner privileges.

Most of the time if you’re with Puzzles no one would really dare to try anything because of how tall your TV man is, but on the off chance some asshole wants to try his luck?

Well Puzzles most definitely has a kill count.

In actuality he’d probably make threats towards the person, never getting outwardly aggressive as he doesn’t like to be the one fighting, but if the aggressor tries to touch you?

All bets are fucking off.

Despite what his personality may suggest to you if it comes down to it this man can pack a punch if need be. He is deceptively strong for how he looks and could easily beat a man to death if he wanted to.

While the fight would not end with the aggressor’s death as Puzzles does not want to kill someone in front of you, there is a good chance that person might end up mysteriously dead with no evidence tracing the murder back to him later down the line.

This man is slightly unhinged when it comes to keeping you safe.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

This is Mr. Puzzles we’re talking about he’s going all out!

Would definitely have a fancy dinner or something equally extravagant. I can see him liking to slow dance with you in a ballroom if given the chance.

If you prefer more casual dates then hey he’s up for that too! He’s paying though no ifs, ands, or buts about it! He loves movie dates and stargazing as date ideas.

Anniversaries are an all out occasion he’s standing his ground on that one because it’s special date and he wants the entire day to be special to the both of you.

Tries to get you gifts he knows you’ll like instead of fancy things though.

Okay maybe one or two pretty rings and such but mainly things you’d actually enjoy or give that big smile at receiving. I think gift giving is one of his love languages after all so expect to have lots of little trinkets.

He tries his best to make you smile everyday so he tries a lot for you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has some… unfavorable aspects of himself he doesn’t want you knowing the true extent of.

He does not want you to know he smokes as he thinks it’s an undesirable habit and always deflects any questions about why he might smell like smoke or any cigarettes you might find.

His temper also gets the best of him at times leading to him lashing out and making dumb decisions that he tends to regret if he thinks about it too much. Though he has wrangled it in around you it can be explosive and violent when you aren’t around to witness the full extent of it.

He is also very obsessive with you and he knows it. It’s definitely toxic obsession as well because at his worst moments mentally he has debated keeping you to himself and not letting you leave. He’s also considered sabotaging all of your relationships so you only rely on him and no one else.

A dark part of him wants to keep you all to himself so no one can take you away from him ever.

Thankfully, he respects and loves you too much to act on those thoughts but god rest the poor soul that does anything bad to you because odds are…

Their life is on a very short timer.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Oh my god yes.

Yes he so is.

He wants to look his best around you 24/7 all day every day and somehow does not even have to try for it.

He needs to always look presentable because a good director should always look ready all the time!

Is dramatic as fuck if his shirt gets wrinkled or something like damsel with their hand on their head going “my poor husband” dramatic.

He’s very silly like that and you love him for it.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes.

You are the only person who ever really tried to get to know him, who puts up with his silly shenanigans, and who he fell in love with.

Truthfully without you? He’d completely lose it mentally because you are his rock. The one person he knows can pull him back from the darkest corners of his mind.

Not that you’d ever know this but Mr. Puzzles does. He knows that now that he has you he would not be able to live without you and continue to pretend to be even remotely sane.

X = Xtra (Random HC)

Plays his dreams or soft static on his screen when he’s in a deep sleep.

Claps his hands when excited and fidgets with his suspenders a lot.

Also makes tons of motions with his hands while he talks.

Y = You (How would they talk about you?)

This goes one of two ways.

Either he’s all giddy and cheerful like a schoolgirl with a massive crush or sounds very concerning as he talks about you like a follower would a god.

Pick your poison because both are accurate it just depends on how he’s feeling that day.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Will. Not. Let. Go.

Like if you wake up before him you are not getting up because he has the grip of a koala and probably has his arms and legs wrapped all around you.

But sometimes if you wake up before him he ends up in the funniest positions like sprawled out in ways that should break his bones. It can be very funny and disturbing at the same time.

[noira-l]

Just the Two of Us

chapter summary: there is nothing like arguing with your pretend ‘husband’, right?

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

wc: 2,9k

warnings: swearing, argument, adult life is kinda hard, higher-ups are fools, angst from Megumi, mature themes, slight mentioning of sexual activity, spoilers (manga, anime, movie).

author's note: well, we began here. I hope you like it, and I can write you more. I'm still experimenting with style, and genre, so please be understanding. You're welcome to leave some notes and comments to help me grow :3 I would appriciate it.

s.masterlist

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 '𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡'

You used to love summer.

Beautiful weather, long bike rides through the unknown corners of Tokyo, trips to arcades with Suguru, the beach with Shoko and Utahime. Just the good old days.

Now you hate summer.

You feel like a curse has fallen on every summer, starting with the star plassma vessel incident. All the worst things that are supposed to happend, happen in the summer.

And this summer was no exception.

Tsumiki, whose condition no one was able to recognise.

Megumi, who, due to her sister's situation and the stress of his lack of fully mastered powers, made him even more grumpy than ever.

And Satoru.

Oh fuck Satoru

You've never seen him so pissed off, higher-ups have never been kind to you, you've always known that. You've seen it yourself many times. But now? Suddenly now they have a problem with Megumi attending Jujutsu High?

The number of your visits to them has increased dramatically, which has only contributed to constant bickering over really unimportant trifles or hiding grudges where there were none. Your home turned into a veritable minefield filled with anger and bitterness. And every day you wondered what you were going to step on this time.

You knew that if things didn't improve, all those wounds and worries would seep deep into each of you, and you didn't want that.

Even though your marriage only existed on paper, you genuinely genuinely cared for him. And he cared for you.

After Suguru left you didn't think anyone would be able to understand what you were feeling, Satoru proved you otherwise. You were both experiencing the same thing, it brought you together in a way, enough to open up between you and form an alliance of sorts that no matter what fate brought your way, you would deal with it together.

The foundations of a perfect marriage? You laughed under your breath. If this marriage was still made for purposes other than convenience in paperwork and ease of custody. You have never had a wedding, you don't even wear rings, you don't even act like a couple. You are both just good friends who grew up to become good parents. Always complementing each other. At least you tried.

The beginnings were difficult, that's a fact, you were both still young at the time, you didn't know how to do certain things, and raising 2 children was never part of the Jujutsu High education programme.

When you graduated, you both left school with broken hearts, old hurts and the hope that your dream of a better future for the young would become a reality. There was almost no talk of romantic feelings.

Almost.

On the day of your fifth wedding anniversary, out of boredom and slight compulsion, because you should at least celebrate the round anniversaries of your arrangement, you opened the sake that Nanamin had bought you for your first anniversary. As a conpensation for saving him from death on that day, which was technically supposed to be free for you. Both of you ended up on the couch, after drinking the entire bottle, fucking like the horny teenagers you still were somewhere deep inside. Satoru never had a strong head. Both of you, in the morning after a strong moral and general hangover, decided that it was better not to return to this situation and just forget about it. As far as this situation can be called a romantic feeling. Although you wouldn't call it that.

Satoru did not know the concept of personal space. And everyone who knew him was able to confirm this. Interestingly, you were the only one who was able to get close to his real personal space. Sleeping in the same bed with you for so many years, he had learned to reflexively switch off his infinity and cuddle with you in his sleep. At first the single bed was because you couldn't afford more than one, Satoru wasn't yet the head of the clan at the time and thus didn't have access to this sizeable fortune. Over time you just got used to it and the idea of sleeping separately seemed strange to you.

You caught yourself dreaming of a bed and his warm arms after another hard mission. You know he had the same thoughts coming really late at night, just to undress himself, and hug into you.

You both crawled into your routines. You've built what you dare to call 'home' on these foundations.

It was not perfect, the life of a jujutsu sorcerer was never strewn with roses or easy decisions but this 'home' was yours. You knew it along with him. And you were proud of what you had achieved together.

You didn't want all that had been built up with your hard work to be undone by one really hard summer. You didn't yet know how you were going to resolve the situation and how to talk to Satoru about it, but one thing you were sure of - you weren't going to give up.

There really is something wrong with this time of year, you sighed as you entered the flat you were renting.

"I'm back." you said rather loudly, you knew Megumi should be home at this hour. You went to the kitchen, put away the shopping nets you had made earlier and began to arrange the goods you had bought, leaving only what would serve for tonight's dinner. You took a small box of strawberry mochi out of the nets, you knew they had been going around Satoru's head lately. You placed them on the kitchen counter, adding a small heart sticker. For some strange reason, everyone in the household liked how you added those colourful stickers, even Megumi loved them, though he wouldn't admit it like Tsumiki did.

My little Tsumiki.

You were angry with yourself, unable to recognise what had actually happened to her and why it had happened so suddenly. You were angry that no one could recognise it. The amount of time you spent guessing, trying to recognise and the trial and error method, exceeded the numbers you knew. You tried, but it wasn't enough. You blamed yourself in advance for not defending her against it.

"What's for dinner today? I'm starving honestly~" you heard a voice behind you and turned around.

"Oh, Satoru, I wasn't expecting you so early. How was the mission?" you had already started preparing today's dinner. Satoru sat down at the kitchen island, not far from you.

"Can we not talk about this shit?" he sighed playing with some dark-haired boy's pencil.

oh…it's bad, isn't it?

"We can." you replied trying to think of something quick to talk to him about. "I bought you something." you pointed towards a small box. The white-haired man just glanced in that direction and a smile dawned on that face again.

"Aww~ Is that for me?" he reached for the casket with his long hand and opened the lid. "Did I mention you're the best wife in the world?" his giggle would be heard from down the street.

Of course Satoru loved sweets, especially the ones you bought him, because you always took care when choosing them, not buying just anything, but really what he liked.

"Sometimes you mention it to me." you said, throwing all the ingredients into the pans.

"I should to it more often then," he said with his mouth stuffed with one of the mochi. The sight of his satisfied face really filled you with small happiness.

"Where's Megumi?" you asked while stirring the contents of the pan.

The strongest merely sighed.

"I asked you to avoid difficult topics" his face was again filled with another mochi from the box.

You walked over to him and took the box from him.

"Why? You're so cruel, you know?" he merely asked pouting at the sight of you taking his joy.

"You'll get the rest of the packaging, after the meal." you stressed, and he continued to pout. You put the box back in the cupboard

"So, where's Megumi?" you asked a second time, pressing for him to answer you.

"You know how young people are today, they just leave without asking, without saying anything to anyone" now your sigh was overwhelming.

"You two had a fight, didn't you?"

"Ayay, I wouldn't call it a fight, more of a youthful rebellion on his part, you've been seeing this kind of behaviour more and more lately. You know, he's maturing. Aren't you proud?" you grabbed your temples where am I going to find him now?

"And how long ago he went to his…" you looked at him seriously "…'youthful rebellion'?"

Satoru glanced at his watch "Hmm…. Like 3 hours ago?" your eyes were the size of coins "But I'm not sure." he added in wonderment

You're going crazy here.

"And you allowed him to have these rebelions at this hour?" Satoru merely shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what you mean, if he wants to go out then let him go out, he is capable of defending himself, after all he has unlocked to some extent his powers-"

"But not as much as we would like" you sighed "not as much as he would like." you vigorously stirred the contents of the pan, trying to pour all your anger into it so that it wouldn't accidentally be shown in words.

"You're being dramatic, it's only true to a certain extent. He has more potential than anyone else so far, I believe in him…. Which doesn't mean he's not a little weak right now." you froze, stopping the wooden spoon you used to turn things in the pan. Your own memories flowed into your head like water.

He had said something like that to you too. When you were still in high school, he could, like a complete asshole, ridicule you for hours and hours, about how you had no powers at all and were weak. You always ended up then in Suguru's arms, who was probably the only one who seemed to know what you were up against in those moments.

As it turned out, his derision found no cover in reality when one morning, after Suguru had left and after your arrangements had been made, you flashed the same eyes at him that he has, explaining to him why he could not use his techniques at that moment. The shock and disbelief that appeared on his face was payment enough, for the lack of apology on his part (for which you are still slightly angry) and for all the mockery you have bravely endured over the years.

You know what it's like to feel weak. You know what it's like when no one believes in you, when you yourself want to give up on yourself, trying to convince yourself that what everyone around you is saying is not true. You know how much hardship and effort goes into not just training, but convincing yourself that you are worth something. You don't want Megumi to ever experience the same sense of powerlessness that you had to endure. Especially not from the same person you had to endure it from.

"Did you tell him that?" you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him, trying to control yourself.

"What?" he asked still playing with the pencil in his hand.

"That he's weak." you must have said it really threateningly because Satoru's face immediately changed expression, you were able to see it right away despite his bandages.

"I didn't necessarily use those words." he said moving his gaze from your face to the pencil.

You took the frying pan off the fire and gave the pot of water in its place.

You sighed gathering in yourself not to do anything stupid today, although he really asked for it.

"You can't spill such words right and left. Not you in particular. " you said it as calmly as you could, turning towards him.

"I don't see the problem. I told the truth, besides I also stated the fact that he has potenc-"

"Of course everyone for you is weak, Gojo" he knew that when you addressed him by his last name, something was wrong or he fucked something up. "Which doesn't mean that everyone wants to hear about this fact. Do you realize what he's going through?" you asked the question into the ether, after a second adding "Well, yes, of course you don't, you've always been the strongest after all." The stupidity of your statement was killing you. You were able to understand his lack of competence in identifying with those weaker than himself, what you were not able to accept was how he was flaunting it.

"You are not weak." he said this while looking at you intensely.

"And after how long did you find that out? You oppressed me for years. It only changed when I showed you my technique." why do you sound disappointed?

Satoru would be lying if he said that his respect and view of you did not change after you showed him your powers.

"You know the higher-ups don't want to think about letting him go to school, and I don't understand why at this point in time you have to conclude that he is weak."

"Just not this topic, again~ We were already at such a family atmosphere." White-haired growled sighing, squirming in his chair

"What do you mean, I was the one who had to defend him from them again today-" you crossed your arms

"You talk as if I didn't do it myself yesterday" he growled, his voice rising "They keep sending me like an errand dog, on every fucked up mission they can think of, and I do it all without a moment's rest. Today I refused to meet with them, I'm shirking everything I can. I'm sick of listening to old idiots who care about rules that have long since ceased to apply. And! Of course the Zen'in clan has a problem with everything."

"As if your clan was so conciliatory.." you snarked with a wince.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" he indignantly replied.

"I met your mother today and she made it clear that she was 'expecting a grandchild' " you turned quickly to throw things into the pot of boiling water, you could see Satoru grabbing his head "She stated that 'it's my duty as your spouse', it's enough for her that she covered herself in shame when our secret wedding came to light. It surprises me that she is eager to make such statements, not being the head of the clan and still having a problem about what was almost eight years ago."

"Don't worry about it, I'll call her out." Satoru sighed. Despite the fact that you were standing with your back to him now, you could feel his gaze on you.

You needed a break. A break from the curses, the higher-ups, the arguments and the flurry of responsibilities. You knew Satoru needed one too. You stood there in thought, leaning against the countertop and looking at the pot with its boiling contents, when unexpectedly you felt a touch on your waist.

You looked up to see his silhouette pressed against your back. "I'm not the best at words or expressing feelings, as you've become familiar with more than once.." he laid his head on your shoulder "but I don't want you to feel like shit, these last few weeks are probably making you tired too."

Gojo was known for not respecting other people's personal space, this time he used it in a good way. You turned to him and snuggled into his warm torso. He held you in his arms for a few moments, stroking your hair and inhaling the scent of your perfume that he, himself had bought you for Christmas. He casually turned off the cooker, when he decided that what you had thrown into the pot, had cooked.

You didn't even know you needed it. His uniform completely smelled of him, despite the fact that you picked it up from the laundry literally yesterday.

It's funny how much his smell started to be associated with safety for you. Maybe it was because of that one mission where he held you the whole time in his arms when you almost died, or maybe it was just out of habit and years spent with him. You'd swear, you could fall asleep here and forget all your worries.

The sound of your burbling stomach snapped you out of this bliss. You looked at each other, you with an embarrassed face and he with an amused smile.

"It's going to be all right, we'll work something out, as always." he said, kissing you on the forehead. You didn't expect such a gesture from him. He guessed it from your face as he took his hands off your waist, moving away from you and putting his hands back, this time on your shoulders.

"Now let's eat something, you're not the only one who's starving." he said then turned on his heel and headed to his previously occupied seat.

"Find Megumi first, then you'll get your portion." you said and he snorted with laughter "Are you ordering me around?" that smile of his lead you to many things.

"No, I'm giving you a challenge, if you find him quickly your dinner won't get cold." you waved your spoon at him lightly.

His smile only deepened "I can take orders like that every day~" he said then immediately disappeared behind the wall, leaving you alone.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission.

[aerascreamer]

I’ve been seeing a bunch of posts about the Batkids calling Dick out for being a cop and although I find them funny, the actual discussion would be going like this (also pardon me for any inconsistencies):

Jason: no way you actually became a cop Dickward-

Dick: I did. I saw how evil spread so deeply in Blüdhaven. I saw how the police contributed to the darkness of the city and the corruption running rampant. And I believed I could change this. I believed I could fight corruption from the inside and find good cops willing to fight for justice. For the longest time I supported and was supported by Gordon, Montoya and many more dedicated police officers who believed in the same cause as me. But I underestimated the corruption. I underestimated the depth the root of evil has reached. The officers on the top cared only about status and power, they only stick up for each other and if you didn’t comply and give up your morals, you’re harassed, isolated, driven out of the precinct. Fuck did my mental health took a toll. I constantly had to navigate disgust at the other’s behaviour, the stress of trying to fight back, and the hopelessness of the situation. And I had to keep up being Nightwing on top of it. So I needed to leave. I had to give up and lose this battle so I could continue the war. Had I stubborned my way into this wall, I don’t know if I’d still be here today…

Jason:

Jason: … I’m really wondering how Gordon is able to handle that kind of pressure if you couldn’t.

Dick: In my opinion, he cleaned up the GCPD years ago from a ton of bad weeds so its current state is much more manageable than Blud’s police. And he had the help of Batman, me, yours and all the others.

Jason: That make sense… also you need a god damn therapist.

Dick: No.

—

On a more serious note, typing this post made me realised how many other posts made Dick into a goofy character and even a joke.

Although I’m a sucker for fire fighter or gym teacher Dick, I recognise the potential Dick as a police officer has for storytelling, for exploring Dick’s resilience and morality as well as the harmful establishment that is the police system. I have yet to see someone explore this path with Dick either succeeding and becoming a figure similar to Gordon, or failing and having to fall back in vigilantism to make a change. Yet this possibility is rehashed as a joke, much like Dick himself.

In many more lighthearted post, he is treated as this bubbly over the top character who is poked fun at (being a cop, the Discowing, the mullet, obsession with cereal, butt jokes etc.), much like Tim is reduced to sad wet cat coffee addict. To me, Dick is a steady figure careful of each of his moves. He is a man who’s life is dedicated to hope, justice and positive change. He is a competent leader who wears a smile to reassure everyone and give them strength when heading for battle. He is a fierce protector whose anger you don’t want to be on the receiving end.

It’s fine to make him chirpier and more extravagant but to the point of becoming an almost comic relief? The JLA did not choose him and his team to fill in for them for nothing.

[neuroticbookworm]

List of Jane's best mentor/boss moments from The Trainee episode 3

aka the list of things that make him so irresistible to me that I am going feral on main on a Sunday afternoon

Jane admonished Ryan for being late and missing the production transportation, but he did not linger on it and immediately put him to work by giving him clear and concise tasks: keep the walkie talkie with you, keep the extras on standby and put your phone on silent

When he saw that Ryan's shoelaces were becoming a recurring problem, he just got down on his knees and solved it, giving us a little glimpse into his thoughts on seniority in the workplace and how ageist ego has no place in it

He was extra patient with Ryan when his phone continued to ring on set (@lurkingshan, @twig-tea, @shortpplfedup and I were screaming our heads off at Ryan and yet Jane continued to tolerate him)

Noticing Ryan's hesitation and offering to show him how to use the walkie talkie without him asking

Trusting the rest of the interns to run B-set

When the mean extra auntie tried to pull "I'm elder than him" nonsense, Jane shut that shit down, HARDDDDD. This is such an important lesson in Asian workplaces, because the social norms around age and the respect it demands can drown young people who enter the workforce. Jane spelling it out for Ryan that his age should not hinder him from doing the job was a powerful moment and one I have rarely seen in Asian dramas, to be honest. I think this is the moment the sex-o-meter caught on fire

He was open to ideas from his intern even during a high-stress situation and even implemented Ryan's idea of using one of the support service team members as an extra to finish up the shoot! If Ryan doesn't buy him a Best Boss Ever mug, I'm gonna be so mad at him

He covered for Pie and took the blame himself when the client expressed dissatisfaction (read: scolded everyone like children). He shielded her from the real-world-shitstorm-stress that would 100% be Too Much for an intern to deal with, while also teaching the interns the importance of teamwork and not throwing people under the bus

After wrapping up, Jane made sure Ryan did not leave the set feeling inadequate from his mistakes, and instead encouraged him to see himself as a cog in a bigger machine. Everyone's contribution is important, and no one in a team can work completely alone.

And finally, he told Ryan that he would not hesitate to apologize to him in the future if he makes a mistake. Because, say it with him now...

Jane is extremely competent and is a compassionate mentor, which makes him so fucking sexy that my braincells are constantly at risk of spontaneous combustion

[moonbaby26]

Title: Wine

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Pairings: Doflamingo x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Crocodile (implied), Doflamingo x Fem!Reader x Crocodile (implied)

Warnings: language, non con, full on cruel Doffy taking out his own insecurities on reader, warlords being pompous assholes, vaginal sex, sex as punishment

Synopsis: Inspired by Day 1 prompt of #Doffytober2024 “Wine”. You were one of the kitchen servants in the royal palace in Dressrosa. Unfortunately you were also alone, responsible for attending to the king’s needs during one of his late night meetings. Doflamingo is more stressed than usual due to who his current guest is, and you end up bearing the brunt of that aggression after a simple mistake.

A/N: I know Doffytober is more a fanart tag, but I can’t draw. Soooo…yeah 😅. I couldn’t call this a Doffy blog without contributing something! Just a quick oneshot.

Fic Masterlist

——————————

You were cursing to yourself. That damn brat Dellinger had slammed into you. And you knew it was on purpose. The wine you’d been balancing within perfectly poured glasses for the young master and his guest was now all down your front. The remains of the bottle along with the rest of it, now shattered and sparkling across the stone floor of the palace corridor as you still heard Dellinger’s deranged giggling fading into the distance.

There was no time to clean this up. So you turned straight back into the kitchen. You were alone in here this late at night. Thankfully at least. Because you’d just have to change quickly. More white uniforms were in the far cabinet.

But you set out new wine glasses first. That now broken bottle out in the hall had been the only year left of the tawny port the king preferred.

Why he even liked it you had no idea. It was far too sweet to your pallet, even as a dessert wine.

Yet you knew exactly which other varieties were still in the racks here, and there was no time to go all the way back down to the palace wine cellar to search further anyway. 

So you grabbed another bottle, this time your preferred choice to end the meal you knew had already been sent upstairs earlier for their business meeting.

With the new wine bottle and glasses set out, you then went to stripping. Your stained shirt was already off. Your soaked pants falling around your ankles next as you had just been stepping out of them when the kitchen door swung wide open.

You gasped, reflexively grabbing the metal serving tray that’d still been nearby. You held it in front of you as if it were a shield.

And if it had been literally anyone else, you likely would have still thrown that tray at them in the moments that came after. But as it was now, you were completely frozen in your surprise. And your fear.

“Young master...” You finally said in a voice that didn’t even sound like your own.

And Doflamingo had been scowling, bad posture and all as he’d first barged through that door. But you saw the way he’d straightened up. The way his scowl faltered in the briefest look of confusion as he took in the sight of you.

“Where the fuck are your clothes?” Came the immediate vulgarity you’d so often heard when he berated you and your fellow workers.

You knew you were nothing more than another insect in the strict social hierarchies he’d furthered during his short time as Dressrosa’s new king.

It felt like he was now scolding a misbehaving animal.

Your only option was to admit fault and submit immediately in hopes the punishment would remain only verbal. He’d listen to no excuses you knew. Especially any that concerned his own shithead crew.

“I spilled the wine, your highness. I was changing and was then going to pour more to deliver to you and your guest.” You were trying to keep your face muscles tight. Trying not to let your lip quiver for as painfully aware as you now were that the meager serving tray was not large enough to cover much of you.

And the air in this kitchen was cold as chill bumps were starting across your bare skin.

But you saw that blood vessel beginning to rise in the king’s forehead. His own lips pulled to the side to reveal more of those perfectly white teeth in his familiar sneer.

“First, you kept us waiting.” He growled out. “I summoned you over ten minutes ago, you little twat.”

And he was starting to walk again, starting to close the gap between the two of you with his long strides as your fingers gripped harder and harder against that tray.

“Second, you spilled the only bottle I had left of that year then? I already saw it in the corridor. So don’t you dare deny it. I should make you lick it off the goddamn floor!”

You felt a wave of nausea go through you. Panic is what it truly was as his large hand had moved so quickly. He’d grabbed that tray. Ripped it right from your arms as it was then thrown with a violent clatter against the far stone wall.

His grip had been hard enough to bend the tray, and the impact enough to chip the stone itself.

But you didn’t avert your eyes from him now. Even as you couldn’t tell exactly where his own glare was focused. 

Was it most on your terrified face as he leaned further in?

Or on your chest barely covered in a tattered old bra you should have thrown out weeks ago? And would have if you’d only had the money to indulge in newer clothes.

Or down to your thighs maybe? Pressed together as if they would hide anything else from him, with only the small strip of fabric that had also been washed and dried to nearly nothing over time. Frayed and distressed, now shielding the last of your decency.

The insanity of feeling this insufficient, humiliated and standing before the king in such poverty highlighting garments was not lost on you. 

But it fit further into his ideas of what you really were didn’t it?

You were just a mongrel to this devil.

Those soulless red lenses of his sunglasses seemed to remind you of this too. As you saw your own pitiable reflection in them while his sneer changed into a smile that was somehow even worse.

Because there was not a trace of mercy in any of it.

He was going to punish you now.

And it would be physical this time.

Doflamingo hissed like an animal even through his false smile.

And in that moment you thought only of a snake with its fangs already out. And the fear of having to watch it strike when nothing could be done to move your body away from him in time.

You screamed, a sound that was fully primal as well as his hands closed briefly like shackles around each of your arms and his body hit against yours.

“Louder.” You heard him grunt when your spine slammed down onto the counter behind you.

He wanted the whole castle to hear you. He wanted them to know. 

Your underwear was torn with a single pull from his hand next. He didn’t even have to use his string to cut it. The weak fabric just ripped as if it were paper in his grip.

“Young master! Please!” But you rather be hit. You rather be cut.

This was too far, even for him. You couldn’t…

“Please what?” The king only laughed right above you.

You could feel the intensity of his body heat. You could smell his rich cologne as he untied his bright colored pants so easily. 

He freed his hardening length without hesitation, not even a flicker of empathy in this man as your tears began and you still refused to look at anything but his face. 

He was smiling back at you too, as his hand fished in an inner pocket of that feather covered coat which remained over his broad shoulders like a cloak.

A little foil covered square came out of that pocket as he brought it to his grinning mouth and bit it quickly to tear it open.

Of course the luxury of a condom meant nothing to you in the horror of this moment.

Yet he spoke again while he lowered his hand to unroll that thin cover over what you now knew was fully ready between his legs.

“You know you don’t deserve this level of attention…do you, little mutt?”

The overwhelming arrogance was dripping from what really should have been a forked tongue by this point. 

Once the condom was on, his rough hands shoved your bra up, pushing it uselessly to your collarbones before he squeezed that soft flesh painfully while he positioned himself at your entrance.

“You’re not even that pretty either.” He added so purposefully too, just for that additional touch of cruelty before you felt the beginnings of that lower pressure.

And you didn’t care about these words, truthfully. He wanted to hurt you however he could now. It was a mental game just as much as it was a physical humiliation.

Your steady tears weren’t yet enough to satisfy him.

But you did gasp as that pressure spiked abruptly. 

He was big. Very big, as you squeezed your wet eyes shut and endured the first of his shameless moans while he pushed his way inside of you.

That and the disgusting sound of the suction your channel soon created around him, slicked at first only with whatever synthetic lubricant that condom had been precoated with.

He began to thrust faster as his hands stroked down your body though. He was feeling everything, touching everywhere despite all his heartless words.

If you really disgusted him so much, that was not shown in the way he couldn’t keep his hands off of you now.

But your eyes were still closed as you tried and failed to fully dissociate from each additional complicated feeling. 

It was only self preservation to attempt and relax, you knew that. You tried not to hate yourself as that first tremble went through your thigh either from how deep he was then moving rhythmically inside of you.

You weren’t resisting him in any way now. 

And he was getting wherever he’d wanted to be all on his own. You could hear his breathing change soon enough. You felt his hands grab onto your hips as he groaned again, that pace still increasing.

But even your fierce will to not look at what carnal crime was now being committed against you had its limits.

Because the added element of an all new male voice was finally enough to make you turn your head as your eyes reopened in a return of fear. 

“Well this is a lovely picture.” 

The words came across with all the warmth of a morgue as the new uninvited also strode their way into the kitchen.

Doflamingo snarled above you, seemingly caught off guard himself even as he did not pull his cock out of you. He actually bottomed out even deeper in response to the interruption. His short fingernails still well sharp enough to hurt as he held your hips against his own in something that nearly felt possessive instead.

Like a predator not wanting to share its current meal.

“Fuck off, reptile. I’ll be back upstairs in a minute.” Doflamingo growled to the other warlord.

“That’s the first true thing you’ve said tonight. Because it does only take you a minute, now doesn’t it?” Sir Crocodile scoffed, only walking closer as you felt him taking in the pathetic scene of your bared body currently pinned beneath your king’s.

Doflamingo sneered defensively again as that smell of cigar smoke encroached in tandem with the other man’s highly judgmental aura.

“I don’t have all night, you whore.” Crocodile’s voice darkened more then as he addressed Doflamingo. “I sail at dawn regardless. So if you want to finish this arms deal, then I suggest you get to compromising. Instead of riding the unwilling help.”

“This brat spilled our wine.” Doflamingo retorted, and for the first time it felt ridiculous to be reminded that this had been your great crime. So childish and nonsensical of a response, especially with him still fully sheathed inside of you like the monster he really was.

But you were only staring at Sir Crocodile by then. Because he was making eye contact with you while Doflamingo just complained.

Crocodile was looking at you as if you were actually a human in that moment.

“Good. Because your taste in drink is shit. I got tired of waiting and came down here to pick my own anyway.” Crocodile responded in irritation regardless, then noticing the other bottles still in the nearby wine racks.

“Fuck you.” Doflamingo spat, beginning to move his hips against you again only when the other had turned back away. But the Heavenly Demon’s wary attention clearly remained on the other pirate even as his cock continued to pound into you.

“Keep wishing.” Crocodile’s true disrespect of the other was palpable too, while his hand grabbed one wine bottle after another by the neck, turning them to read the labels.

And the way this retort clearly got beneath the king’s skin was of no help to you of course. Doflamingo only thrusted more erratically in his growing frustration, hurting you more.

His aroused panting had stopped too. His self-pleasure within you had been interrupted with the threat of the other’s presence and he was now almost embarrassingly struggling to recapture that high.

And Crocodile noticed, glancing back over then when you made another noise of pain at the king’s roughest thrusts. “Are you actually having sex or just humping her with all the skill of an unneutered dog?”

You winced as Doflamingo’s hands somehow gripped you even harder at this insult and his voice loudly erupted.

“Just fucking go back to my office already! Let me finish what I started!”

You’d never heard the Young Master sound this flustered.

But in the meantime, Crocodile’s continued perusal of the remaining wine bottles had led him back to the one you’d set out just before Doflamingo’s attack. 

Still being brutally fucked, you were now helplessly watching as Crocodile set his cigar down. He checked the label on that bottle too before deciding to pour himself a tasting portion.

He sipped it, then making abrupt eye contact with you again. He spoke to you too, with all the casualness as if you’d just been standing here alone together.

As if Doflamingo wasn’t still balls deep between your legs.

As if the other pirate wasn’t even here with you and Crocodile at all right now.

“Is this the wine you were trying to bring us instead, Miss?” Crocodile asked, swirling the glass a bit before taking even a second taste.

And why you did it, you didn’t know. Even a nobody like you could recognize the freshly lit fuse of Doflamingo’s flaring temper as his body heat seemed to increase at these words.

“Yes, Sir Crocodile.” You answered so quietly.

Just before the king’s hand clutched around your throat to silence you and he yelled again.

“Go. Upstairs!” His orders which usually held the weight of a near god in this country, seemed to roll harmlessly off the other however.

Crocodile only filled that glass completely now with the wine you had chosen. He put his cigar back in his mouth before picking the glass off the counter to carry it with him.

He gave the two of you a parting look of only mild interest this time.

“Leave that one alive when you’re done then. I need better kitchen staff anyway. We can make a trade of some sort.”

And there was silence for a painful amount of seconds, before Doflamingo did release your throat abruptly. His smile had vanished. 

“You’re serious.” The king stated with a foreign air of incredulousness.

“You have a poor eye for talent.” Crocodile huffed, refusing to further explain himself as he did exit the room as unceremoniously as he’d come. 

And Doflamingo just stood there for a while, like his brain was trying to catch up.

He then looked back down at you. You who was still keeping his cock warm for him as he frowned.

“He actually likes you. You lucky little shit.” 

Yet his voice was different then. Because for the first time it did feel like he was talking to you instead of at you.

To your further shock his long fingers now moved over your clit as he began to rub it as well.

“But this just made you have a value. So you better remember who you really work for if I send you home with him…”

You couldn’t stop your abdomen from tightening then as Doflamingo rubbed that little bundle of nerves so purposefully now.

And it was a different kind of smile this time as he watched your reaction beneath him.

“The next time I’m in Alabasta, I’ll expect you to butter him up for me too. You can be the appetizer for that gator. But remember, I’m the entrée.” 

One that apparently paired well with your particular wine choice which Crocodile now favored as Doflamingo’s strings grabbed the whole bottle instead.

He took a crass guzzle from it after pulling it into his hand, rocking into you as deep as he possibly could again. 

His odd expression seemed to say he didn’t think it was half bad either.

Either that or he was finally starting to enjoy your body again without the distraction of the other warlord in the room.

“You aren’t off the hook with me either though. I’ll want my taste too the next time I see you.” He grinned, starting to pant again then as his fingers ran over your mouth. 

He leaned down over you more, body heat further mingling with an added intimacy that made your insides churn even as your orgasm finally threatened to overtake you.

Doflamingo’s voice whispered as he pushed his fingertips past your lips next, bidding you to suck them. “Maybe then we’ll just start with three to begin with. A cute little mutt, and her two warlords. But I’ll let you choose the wine for each round that night.”

You could see the way his mask was finally faltering now, his own lips parting while he watched you suck him subserviently and his fingers slipped in deeper.

“Is that a deal…my little cur?”

He actually shuddered once you nodded, with your tear stained cheeks and all as your channel clenched reflexively around him below your waists.

And that squeezing of your body around his did finish him off at last. His body still trembling as he rode that orgasm all the way through and came within the condom.

His larger frame was so heavy and uncomfortable when he draped briefly over you in the aftermath before pulling out. But his voice was nearly as soft as his spent cock then.

 “Good girl…such a good girl.” Came that rare praise only at the very end. “Behave in Alabasta, and I’ll see you soon.”

And the devil smiled at you one more time.

“Keep his bed warm for me.”

————————

End. Thanks for reading!

[neon-vocalist]

Twitter is a cesspool that I’m afraid of contributing to, so here’s the post I would be making there.

Millie and Luca have spoken up about not having a shitty time with Niji management. This is a GOOD thing. They don’t deserve that mistreatment. Moreover, this does not make them the bullies. Leave their asses alone.

Vox and Enna are well known members of Nijisanji for their creative endeavours, and obviously they haven’t graduated yet. This does not make them the bullies. Leave their asses alone and stop asking when they’ll graduate.

Ren just lost a genmate and now a senpai, both of whom were very positive and influential figures. He is not faking being upset for clout. You guys are fucking insane. Leave his ass alone and support him.

Rosemi and Elira have been said to be the last remaining pillars of NijiEN. This does not mean they’re the bullies, sucking up to management, the head of “cliques,” or have a moral duty to graduate. Leave their asses alone.

Anycolor threw every single talent under the bus for mentioning the “bullying by affiliated Livers” in their termination announcement. Anycolor is just trying to make themselves look good. Anycolor is not your friend.

These talents are understandably stressed, have just lost THREE important friends and coworkers, and now have the entirety of social media coming for them. Doki is not the only victim here. Their agency is going up in flames. They’re allowed to be upset.

[toomuchracket]

if you're too shy (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)

in which the other music journalist at the magazine you work at is the cutest weird boy you've ever met. enjoy <3

in hindsight, coming back from a two-week holiday the same day the magazine goes to print was a misguided idea.

your editor-in-chief tells you as much when you enter the office, pulling you into a half hug. “don't get me wrong, it's lovely to see you,” she says, scraping her hair back into a bun and securing it with a pencil. “but you'll be doing nothing all day, i'm afraid. maybe some last minute proofing, but i think everyone in nightlife and reviews has been alright. double-check with marianne.”

you do just that, weaving your way through people running copy and coffee between departments until you reach your own. it's mercifully quiet compared to everywhere else, the ten or so people dotted at desks around the sunlit room looking at their laptops and wearing headphones; you actually have to flick marianne on the back of the head to get her to notice you. “oi.”

“who the- oh, hi!” marianne's face softens when she sees it's you, and she stands to pull you into one of her infamously bone-crushing hugs before pulling back to get a good look. “well, you look annoyingly well-rested. but i suppose a fortnight in a spanish villa will do that to you. bitch.”

“i had a great time, thanks for asking,” you grin. “how’s everything been with you? stressful, without your star reporter?”

“well, for starters, you've been succeeded for that title.”

you frown only half-jokingly, scanning the room to try and guess which of your colleagues has replaced you as marianne's unofficial favourite. “who the fuck…?”

“language,” she lightly slaps your arm, in spite of the fact she was just about to say the same thing, then smiles suspiciously. “and i’m talking about our newest recruit.”

the brewing annoyance in your stomach dissipates immediately, replaced by a flock of tiny butterflies. “oh,” you try to keep your smile to a minimum. “that's okay. i like him.”

marianne sees right through you, though. she rolls her eyes. “oh, you would.”

“what?”

she sighs, motioning for you to lower your voice and modifying her own to a whisper. “he’s a curly-haired pretty-eyed vaguely scrawny white boy. you'd like him even if he didn't think the sun shone out of your arse.”

“marianne!” you hiss. “he does not!”

“don’t act all indignant, he has literally looked over at you once every thirty seconds since you walked in - and don't look, idiot, you'll freak him out. we need him on the ball, today of all days,” she rubs her eyes. “but yes, he’s very good at his job. i like him, even if i've no idea what in the world he goes off on his tangents about. great writer.”

“yeah, he is,” you risk a glance towards him, but all you can see is the back of his laptop - covered in stickers for things you can only name half of - and dark curls peeking out from the side of his headphones. “i like the references. different perspective from me, innit? that's why we hired him, after all.”

“who's we? you were too pissed off that i was hiring another music critic to agree to be part of the interviewing panel.”

you'd love to disagree, but you really were pissed when marianne and the other editors told you they were expanding the nightlife section. it didn't matter that it was in response to an increase in funding and readership, with the magazine switching to a print format as well as the online edition you'd contributed to since its creation - your fierce independence and pride meant you didn't take the news well, made you think it was an issue with your competence and writing ability that meant you'd be getting a new colleague. but once you were reassured that you'd still get to keep the Big Gigs and restaurant reviews to yourself, you were slightly more agreeable to the idea.

and once you actually met the new guy, stumbling over both his words and his own feet as he introduced himself, you couldn't quite remember why you'd been opposed in the first place.

“well,” you say, snapping back into reality. “thank goodness i'm over it now.”

“because you want to get under him?”

“no!” you stand indignantly, and then grin. “on top, maybe.”

“good grief,” your boss shakes her head. “don't you go bringing it up to him - excuse the pun - before this edition goes to the printers,” she points at you as you move to walk away. “or talking to him at all until then, actually, you hear me? i love you, but you're a distraction to him, and he's my best journo.”

“he's not, but alright,” you pat her head as you walk back towards the door. “i'll be in the staff room if you need me. and i won't talk to anyone, mum, i promise.”

“i'm only five years older than you!”

“whatever you say!” you reply in a singsongy voice, giggling to yourself as you wander towards the sunny kitchen. the little radio on the windowsill is on, as it always is, and you nod along to the cure while you wait for the kettle to boil. once you've made a cuppa (and grabbed a slack handful of the chocolate digestives marianne always keeps the cupboard stocked with), you settle at the table with your laptop, typing out ideas for your next feature and doing your best not to think about the boy down the corridor you've been instructed not to talk to for the time being. for the most part, you succeed.

that is, until he walks into the staff room two hours later.

you frantically wipe your face of biscuit crumbs as he does, smiling as sweetly as you can for someone with no idea if she has chocolate on her teeth or not. “hi, matty. how are you?”

“oh, hi! i'm, uh, i'm alright,” matty smiles widely enough that his verbal emotional downplaying is blatant - still, he's so cute, beaming at you like that with his little sweater paws. he’s always in a jumper or cardigan or hoodie of some kind, and on more than one occasion in the three months you've known him, you've absolutely thought about literally cosying up into him instead of doing any work. “how was spain? and the wedding - it was a family wedding you were going to, yeah?”

“that's right,” it’s not a big deal, but you glow at the fact he remembered. or maybe it's the soft intent he looks at you with. “it was lovely, yeah. although - wait, have we gone to print?” you ask, suddenly recalling marianne's instructions. “i'm not keeping you from work?”

matty's curls bounce as he shakes his head, light hitting off the metal hoop in his earlobe (that you're only mildly obsessed with). “we've gone. i'm just in here to get my lunch,” he pulls a tupperware from the fridge, cheeks rosy as he waves it. “made some soup last night.”

he makes his own soup. the thought is so endearing that it takes everything in you not to sigh; you settle for a smile. “carrot and coriander?”

“you can tell from one glance?”

you shrug. “s'my favourite.”

“really?” matty's face seems to light up. “mine too,” he busies himself with putting the tupperware in the microwave, taking his time pressing buttons and turning dials before looking bashfully at you. “so, you had a nice time at the wedding, then?”

“i did, thank you. do you, um,” you start, suddenly shy. “d'you want to see some photos from it, while you're waiting for the soup to heat up?”

he nods back just as shyly, sitting quite awkwardly on the seat next to yours; while you open your photos app, matty twists a stray curl around his finger, and the movement seems to send your nerves into vibration as well as the molecules in the air. with a series of shallow breaths, you locate the folder of the wedding pictures and set your phone on the table. “feel free to flick through them, if you like.”

“thank you,” matty sits forward, carefully swiping through the album. you lean on your elbow, doing your best not to beam adoringly at the way he looks intently at each photo before moving to the next. “the venue is really beautiful.”

“yeah, it was stunning.”

the next picture is one of you in your bridesmaid dress, taken by your sister the morning of the wedding. you watch, slightly heartsick, as matty's mouth falls open as he looks at you; the feeling worsens when he tentatively does the same thing in real life, those pretty eyes of his sparkling as he smiles softly. “so are you. really. like,” he looks down at the photo again, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at you. “that colour is beautiful on you. honest. you look incredible.”

“thank you,” the words come out in a whisper, and the two of you silently smile at each other for a moment until you clear your throat. “um, there are more of the official pics on my instagram, let me… actually, do you have my private account?”

“oh, no,” matty shakes his head again - god, you love the way his hair moves. “just the one for your writing.”

“well,” you tap on the app with an almost-imperceptibly shaky finger. “that's the username there, if you'd like to follow. no pressure, of course. don’t wanna fuck up your algorithms or anything.”

your nervous chuckle at the end of the sentence turns to a giggle when you see matty's face as you share your username; it lights up so much that you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd just won the lottery. he pulls his own phone out and taps away at it. “you don't have to follow me back, by the way,” his cheeks flush a deep red, a beautiful colour. “m'not posting anything interesting.”

doubtful. he might be one of the most interesting people you've ever met, all talent and sweetness and a wealth of cultural understanding wrapped up in a sweater and a pretty face. “no, i'd like to.”

“alright. thank you,” matty's cheeks seem to get even redder as he watches you hit follow back, face twitching as though he’s trying to stop himself smiling too big. when the microwave dings, he all but skips over to it, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in a sweetly awkward way; he swears under his breath when he lifts the steaming container out, turning back sheepishly to look at you. “sorry.”

“don't worry,” you grin at him, feeling slightly bold. “i still think you're sweet when you swear.”

he giggles, and the noise makes your heart leap; in addition to being one of the most interesting people you think you've ever met, matty healy is without doubt the cutest. watching his lips pout in concentration as he stirs the soup and checks the temperature, you briefly imagine what they would feel like against your own, how he would be if the two of you were to kiss. just as giggly and endearingly awkward as he usually is, you think - eager to please, lips and tongue a little sloppy and unsure but enthusiastic enough for you not to mind, slightly unsure of where to put his hands so as to not make you uncomfortable… the scene is as clear as day in your head, and you really, really want to recreate it. you'd devour him right now if you could, the sweetheart.

and then, matty reaches up to get a bowl from the shelf, the hem of his shirt goes with him, and your want to devour him suddenly takes on a less pg-rated meaning than it did a second ago.

he has a fucking hip tattoo.

you’re pretty sure it's only a sliver of the full design you can actually see, but the hints of red and blue and black ink and the glimpse of his happy trail are enough to fuck you up completely. as you register what you're seeing - what you're discovering about the seemingly buttoned-up, shy, unassuming-to-everyone-but-you matty - your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to cough quite obviously on the mouthful of lukewarm tea you'd just taken. one cough turns into another, and you clap a hand over your mouth to make your tattoo reaction attack the least obvious it can be.

still, the ever-perceptive man across the kitchen notices, running over to crouch in front of you with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. “you alright, darling?”

darling?! no, you most certainly aren't alright.

but you can't tell matty that, so you stick to gesturing to let him know you'll reply once you've managed to swallow your tea. “i am, yeah, thanks. tea just, y'know, went down the wrong way.”

matty tilts his head. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you smile, slightly embarrassed. “really. thank you, though.”

“of course,” he smiles in return, knee brushing lightly against your leg as he steadies himself; he looks down, eyes widening as he registers how close the two of you are, and quickly stands. “i'd better, y'know, get my lunch.”

you nod, despite the strange loneliness settling into your bones at the lack of him next to you. “i can head back to the office, if you want peace?”

“no, no, please stay!” matty all but gasps, turning to look at you like a deer caught in headlights - he clears his throat, blinking a few times before speaking again. “please don't feel the need to leave on my account, i mean. or feel obliged to talk, really - i was just going to read.”

“you're sure i won't be a bother to you?”

matty smiles warmly, shaking his head. “that'll never happen.”

christ.

“okay,” you whisper, winking at him - and savouring the little giggle that bubbles out of him when you do - before turning back to your laptop. 

matty settles at the table a minute or so later, pulling a paperback from his back pocket and holding it open quite attractively with one hand. you peek over the rim of your laptop at him every so often, never for more than a couple of seconds at a time; partially to avoid the mortification of him catching you, but mostly because if you look at him any longer you know your mind will wander back to that fucking hip tattoo of his, and what it might look like completely visible to you, and what it might feel like under your lips, and what noises matty might make if you slowly dragged your tongue all over it before moving to the side to lick a wavy line up the length of his-

enough. he's literally right there.

the room feels hot, all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing and throat drying to match. on only slightly shaky legs, you pick up your waterbottle and head to the water fountain, crouching as best you can to fill it. even though he stays silent, you can feel matty’s eyes on you from across the room, but it doesn't bother you or freak you out in the way that other men ogling you at a water fountain would - it's quite obvious that matty has some sort of more-than-platonic affection for you, but his gaze has always been one of appreciation and awe when it comes to you, not the predatory one you've come to expect from men. and yet, his is the only male gaze that makes you feel slightly nervous, unused to being looked at with such reverence and tenderness by an attractive boy; in complete contrast, though, it also makes you lower your guard, pull down the bricks from the wall you've built around your heart, and allow yourself to actually feel something for matty, for once. something good, honest, promising.

matty looks up from his book as you sit down, smiling pleasantly. he opens his mouth as if to talk, and then closes it immediately, shaking his head slightly.

this intrigues you. “you okay, matty?”

“hmm? oh, yeah, i was just thinking,” his cheeks go a shade of pink you would buy in blush form if you could find it. “when you were first talking about the wedding… you said although, and then we got off-topic slightly. what, um, what were you going to say, if you don't mind me asking?”

“oh, right,” you wrack your brain, doing your best to not get distracted by how cute you find his perception. “i think i was going to say something about how, as good as it all was, there's nothing like a family wedding to remind you of how single you are.”

his jaw falls open. “you… you don't have a boyfriend? wait, sorry,” he blinks. “or a partner?”

you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself smiling. “no boyfriend, no. and thus, constantly advised by a never-ending flock of aunts that i should get one so i could get married.”

“christ,” matty winces. “yeah, my cousin's getting married in a couple of months - not looking forward to everyone asking me when i'm going to meet a nice girl and settle down, as if i can answer.”

no girlfriend. how interesting. “you're single? really?”

he rolls his eyes, still smiling at you. “be serious. course i am.”

“i am being serious! that surprises me,” you lean on one elbow, tilting your head to look at him. “you're lovely, matty.”

matty’s eyes widen, and he blinks adorably a few times before he smiles shyly again. “thank you. i think the same about you.”

“you do?”

he simply nods, total sincerity in those pretty eyes. 

you feel your cheeks warm, but you make no effort to hide it. “thank you.”

matty shrugs. “just telling the truth, darling,” he looks panicked when he realises what he's said. “sorry for calling you that, twice, it just-”

“i like it, matty, it's alright,” you say reassuringly. “and i like-”

“oh, thank god you're both here,” marianne bursts into the room, carrying her laptop; you frown petulantly at her for ruining your moment, but shuffle your chair round closer to matty's so she can sit at the table too. “something weird’s happening.”

matty squints. “what d'you mean by weird?”

marianne pushes her laptop towards you both. “there's overlap in your planned reviews - the band you're going to see at the end of next week, matthew, have just been announced as the opener for the next Big Gig. i need to know how we want to go about this.”

“oh,” he looks at you. “i don't mind if you want to just review them as part of yours.”

you're shaking your head vehemently before he even finishes talking. “no, that's not fair,” you tap your lips with your index finger the way you always do when you concentrate, trying to ignore the glow within your body when you see matty looking at them from the corner of your eye; inspiration strikes, and you turn to marianne. “matty could come with me, couldn't he? if he reviews their headline gig, and then he does a follow-up review of their opening set in the Big Gig feature - we could just do a joint byline, work together on it.”

both of them turn to look at you in slight shock. marianne is the first to speak, her words trickling out slowly as she processes the fact you've just agreed to let someone else work on a Big Gig for the first time. “you're… happy with that?”

“if matty is, yeah,” you turn to him, smiling. “sound alright?”

he beams. “more than. thank you.”

“of course,” you turn back to the boss. “there you go. sorted.”

she sighs, relieved. “thank goodness for that. alright,” she stands, picking up her laptop and heading back to the main office. “i'll coordinate press passes. thanks for making that simple - you're both stars.”

“anytime!” you call after her, before turning back to matty. “you're sure you're happy to do this? i realise i've just given you more work to do, but…”

he laughs, a beautiful sound. “nah, i don't mind. also,” he shuffles in his seat, bashful again. “i actually have a spare ticket for the first show, if you'd like it - bought it before i saw it was on the review roster. doesn't seem fair that i get to go to two gigs while you only get one, i think. i mean, no pressure, obviously, but the offer's there.”

god, he’s so fucking cute. how could you ever say no to him? “i'd like that a lot, matty, thank you,” you beam at him. “i think us working together is going to be a lot of fun.”

matty beams back just as enthusiastically. “i think so too.”

[neiptune]

slithered here from eden, just to sit outside your door

cw: 700wc, female reader, modern au, sanemi is your grumpy situationship on the verge of becoming more, i squeezed in a lil surprise :) sponsored by the angel that is @strawberrystepmom who put her trust in my writing and contributed to @ficsforgaza!

“What?”

You smile at the faux harshness, the embarrassment Sanemi still tries to clumsily conceal to no avail.

“That was very sweet of you” part of you wishes you still had the pink phone you used to keep in your room as a teen, just to twirl the landline cord around your finger.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Really? So I guess it was a total coincidence that your younger brother stopped by to bring what looked like a homemade soba noodle stir fry”

There’s silence on the other end of the line, a cautious pause. You know he’s pondering whether to keep up his dumb act, point out that they were evidently homemade or simply admit the obvious truth.

Sanemi clears his throat and chooses a secret fourth option, sidetracking.

“I’ve been stuck in stupid meetings all day. He happens to know you’re always too tired to fix yourself something to eat when you’re back from a business trip”

You giggle.

“Genya is the one who knows that?”

“Not hard to guess. You’re notoriously lazy”

“Careful now, Shinazugawa”

He deflates, a stupidly big hand running through silver locks, ruffling them up in the stressful process.

“I—” you think you hear a quiet murmur, something strangely similar to god fucking damn it “—they were homemade”

“I know they were” you can’t fight off the exasperated, smitten smile rising to your lips “thank you”

“Whatever” he gruffly mumbles “had a good trip?”

You hum, indulge in small talk that is still somehow safe territory for whatever it is you two are. Friends with benefits doesn’t really apply to the situation anymore, the friends part making you scrunch up your nose, heavily outweighed by the benefits part for some time now.

But there’s more to it. It’s in the way you stay over to take care of him when he’s sick, knowing all too well you’re gonna get sick in turn. It's in the way his hands hesitate when he greets you at the office each day, they're always aching to rise up and cradle your sweet face to kiss your lips good morning. Just like he’s been doing more and more often, in the comfort of his apartment, kisses and breakfasts a consequence of arms wrapping around you at night, to stop you from leaving.

While it feels like you’re both tiptoeing around something that started with no formal agreements and only a handful of boundaries, while you wonder if Sanemi is ever going to take the initiative with the same confidence he claims you in private, there’s only so much time you can spend exhausting yourself with silly questions.

“Hey, Nemi, what are you up to right now?”

“Hmm?” he doesn’t complete the grumpy story of how lavishly they were forced to greet a potential new partner visiting from Tokyo just that morning, some pretentious guy called Satori or Satoru “was reading a book when you called, why?”

“So, hypothetically speaking, if I was just outside you would open the door, right?”

There’s a pause and your cheeks are already hurting from how much you’re smiling. You can hear how he throws himself off the couch and toward the door, he swings it open right as the line goes silent, the reliance in that lavender stare not faltering for a second. Sanemi always believes you, doesn't ever spend useless seconds wondering if you're being serious or not. If you wanted to convince him that the sun wouldn’t rise anymore unless he kissed you, he’d click his tongue and gravely argue that he’d never want to leave the earth in the dark for a second too long.

“What are you doin’ here?” he’s already pulling you inside, tugging at the hem of your lilac skirt, features softening as it always happens when you’re there to give him a reason “thought we were supposed to go out later tonight”

“I wanted to see you. Tonight was too far away in time” you grin when Sanemi playfully rolls his eyes and lazily wrap your arms around his neck as he shuts the door behind you with a kick.

“That’s not very patient of you” he mumbles into the curve of your shoulder, words barely audible from how tightly he has you enveloped in his arms, tight enough to squeeze a little oof and an airy laugh out of you.

“Forgive me, but I’m not feeling very patient right now” you whisper back, tousling your fingers through his hair. You’re pretty sure Sanemi conceals a groan against your skin, or he tries to, as he pulls you flush against his hard body.

“Neither am I”