#and if i left defense it'd pay so much better

[space-librarian]

My company is playing a dangerous game, giving me this shitty-ass raise. Like I couldn't get a new job easily (and like I'm not the repository of a decent amount of security training and tribal knowledge)

[warmilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

Dc x Pjo

Part 5

________________________

Diana is seething, she's filled with rage, the lies Bruce fed her?

"I'm very worried for their wellbeing..."

"I miss them very much"

"they're so young, I don't want anything bad to happen to them"

Asshole.

She kicked the door of the justice hall down, startling the kids who had gone back on patrol from trying to find (Name)

"hey what gives?" Flash asks

Superman raised his eyebrow "you left so suddenly, mind telling us where you've been?"

She looks at batman's sidekicks and then at him, while staring him straight in the eyes "the kid is dead" she says

"what?"

A silence washing over the entire room

"the lady who attacked your house, that wasn't an ordinary lady, in the eyes of mortals she may look normal, but in the eyes of divine beings... It's a monster, that monster was an empousa, a poisonous fire breathing monster who feeds on the blood of mortals and divine beings alike" Diana thinks about how she'll explain everything to J'onn later, but figure that he's probably reading her mind right now

Her suspicions are confirmed as J'onn nods at her

"your kid, (Name), they're a demigod, because of that they're a target for monsters, they're gone, eaten, sorry Bruce"

Crap Diana thinks, was she too harsh? She was just too angry

Ignoring the fact Diana just announced Bruce slept with a god, Superman placed his hand on Batman's shoulder "My condolences Bruce"

Everyone was giving their apologies to the bats

She didn't look at the widened eyes of batman's sidekicks, she noticed but chose to ignore the sound of Dick collapsing into a chair, she heard didn't pay attention to the footsteps of Damian who had to run out of the room

Cass stiffened up, she trembled as if resembling a cracking statue, Steph wants to cry, but she knows very well that she doesn't deserve to cry over you, Barbara just- it's like she just stopped working

As much as she feels so cruel right now, she knew it was the only thing that will keep you hidden, if not, they'll keep trying to find you

Green arrow crossed his arms, but it was clear he was disturbed by the death of a 12 year old kid "Diana, please elaborate"

"Bruce here, had intercourse with a god, that led to (Name) being born, monsters attack demigods, people who are half god half human such as myself, without proper protection monsters kill demigods easily, and (Name) suffered that fate, monsters attack demigods while they're young and tasty and leave them alone as they grow older, they don't feed usually on humans, just animals and demigods"

It seemed like Batman or more appropriately for this situation Bruce wasn't even listening, his mind still stuck at the announcement of your death

"If it'd make you feel better, you can take a break for a while... I know what it's like to lose family, we all do, let yourself grieve Batman, you might be a hardcore vigilante but you're still a father" (to everyone but name) Barry suggests

Starfire has been trying to calm Dick down, his breathing has become irregular and unstable, switching between deep and short breaths

_________________________

Jon runs after Damian, it looked like any second, the unbeatable demon spawn fell to his knees

"Damian! Are you okay!?" Jon asks

"I-i thought it'd only last a few days... Maybe a week if they're incompetent, or maybe months if we're unlucky" Damian started to cough

He took off his robin mask and took a deep breath "Since there was no body, I was fine, I thought they're okay, maybe a few injuries here and there, but they're alive so it's fine, but- the reason there was no body... Was because she was eaten- by stupid, how'd -" Jon didn't know what to do, between the both of them, Damian was the composed one

Then two of his siblings came, Jason and Tim

"what the fuck? Demon spawn?" Jason was surprised, and immediately glared at Jon, accusingly looking at him for making his brother this way

Jon put his up defensively "I didn't do anything, promise, I'm trying to comfort him!"

Tim knelt down with Damian "what happened?"

"(Name) is dead"

And suddenly it feels like nothing matters anymore

____________________________

"okay! And this'll be your bed!" Selina ended the tour of the cabin

Selena Beauregard, Daughter of Aphrodite, she was your sister, Gosh you have a sister! And she was nice! She wasn't like Cass who for some reason, closed her eyes everytime you tried to communicate with her

Barbara pretended to be busy, too busy, what do you mean you have to work? Didn't your workplace get burned down by two-face two days ago?

Steph- at least she was honest, she straight up told you she' didn't want anything to do with you

A guy with blonde hair and blue eyes walked out of the bathroom, a nice change from the black and blue eyes you're used to

"hey! You're our new sister! The one who was flirting with that Hephaestus kid-"

"Aster! (Name) Told me they were just friends and if they were flirting what's wrong with that? Love is love" Selena came to your rescue

Aster tilted his head confused with the way you're shifting "what's wrong?" He asked

"aren't people in Greek mythology who are named after flowers turn into them?" You nervously fiddle with your fingers

With that some of your siblings who are in their respective spaces burst out laughing and Aster is hugging you laughing whilst explaining that in Greek mythology "the people came first, not the flower"

That seemed to calm you down a bit, then another girl, whose name is Drew spoke up "so (Name) who's your mortal parent?"

You freeze up at this question but the other kids seemed normal about it

"don't worry (Name) it's some game we play, cause mom's standards are high, we compare mortal parents" Another one one your brothers said, his name is Castillo, he had a faded hair color of blue to purple that reminded you of Ramona flowers

(this is actually canon in Pjo, lmao)

He continued "my father was a famous k-pop idol" he bragged

A little girl then shouted "My dad was a model for Designer clothing!"

Selena rolled her eyes "So whose your dad (Name)?"

You didn't want to answer that, but at the same time- this is the first sibling playing you've ever been in, you're included here!

"my dad is Bruce Wayne... You can look me up on Google- but he, he really wasn't the best- umm dad"

"THE BRUCE WAYNE?" Someone gasps

"i thought his name was Brucie?"

You hear in the background

"I didn't know he was an asshole" Aster muttered

"come on bro, the guy parties all day and he's with children, how could you ever think that guy's a good father?" Castillo shrugs his shoulders

"that's okay (Name), a lot of mom's lovers are vain, taking it too seriously in their heads that they slept with the goddess of beauty, that's why mom stopped revealing herself, there are rare moments, but they're rare" another sister of yours says

You honestly feel so at home here...

________________________

I'm now realizing that the "Neglected daughter" fandom is literally so small, I just saw like three of my readers in another fic I was reading XD

Let's support each other!!!! :3

Also the characters without description are canon characters, people who are actually in pjo

The one with descriptions are OC's!

So Drew and Selena are canon characters! :3

Callisto and Aster aren't

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

@wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @nathaly36 @delias-stuff @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7

[greenxprof]

Although he can somewhat sense Giovanni doesn't mean to piss him off necessarily, it seems he's just really good at it regardless. There's a reason why Green's been avoiding him to the best of his abilities, he himself has trouble being patient with people he doesn't like.

"He tried stabbing you didn't he..." obviously for self-defense, he believes. He ponder expressing his thoughts: it's much easier to put your trust in a Champion and a Professor than to put your trust in an ex-mafioso who'd steal pokémon and bully kids. He chooses to keep it for himself, for the sake of not extending an argument that wouldn't get them anywhere.

"Worry not. I don't plan on letting anyone die in here, not even you." a dead criminal can't pay for his crimes after all.

Finally, he gets to take a closer look at such chip. Such a thing was probably inserted after the pokémon's birth, which may be different from the cyborg characteristics they have. It's hard to know its contents without being able to plug it somewhere and check it manually.

Besides, he's not very confident about messing with their brains. He can mend the mechanical parts, he can even do a generally good work with biological parts, but he's no surgeon, no veterinary nor doctor.

"Hmm. I'm not so sure about what we can do. I don't know if removing will be good for them. If it 'elevated their thoughts', taking this away may end up causing their body not able to handle the changes left." he hums. "Like forcing a pokémon to de-evolve. Even if not physical effects, mental or psychological ones are likely.

Besides... I'd need to understand better what this 'elevate high thought' means before I can say if it'd be safe for them to be without the RKS signal. What I assume is that it makes them have sense of self, morals, complex emotions and thought structure like we humans do.

I'd like to take a look at this chip's contents, but I don't think we have any kind of machine that would allow me to do so here."

Giovanni can't help but laugh at the notion of 'paying' for his crimes, and then the Professor's immediate disclaimer that he was no police.

"Rather punitive, for not being a cop aren't you?" he smirks, "Besides, isn't 'saving the known universe' while stuck with you and a guy who tried to stab me penance enough?"

He means it with good humor, and thinks earnestly about the comment on wariness.

Then shrugs, "I can't say I'd relate in your position, to be honest. Sure, Red tried to stab me, and I understand that our conflict is inevitable in every reality- but the way I see it, we're all stuck here. Relying on each other. And the burden of our own survival, and the survival of everything we know and love depends on our cooperation. Trust."

"To that end, I'm willing to trust both of you. And... well, if that trust is misplaced and I lose my life because of it, then everything I've tried to do here isn't my problem anymore. Though, I do hope at least someone's left to explain exactly what happened to me to my partner, my son, and my nephew."

He lets the seriousness sink in, before placing the chip in Green's hand.

"Anyway... 'Professor', right? This chip was obtained in a field dissection from a Virizion-like being. It was inserted into the base of the brain, and had almost dendritic structures that webbed into the CNS. We believe this structure is responsible for the altered behavior when exposed to the RKS. But the problem is, is it's likely the same structure that the RKS was able to elevate higher thought through."

[infernalodie]

Could you like possibly do a fluffy/minor smut with maddy and male reader and maddy being protective. The male reader is a tall buff guy who seems tough on the outside but is soft to maddy. They both share a liking of lana del rey (I had to add that since we love lana here) y/n takes maddy on drives and appreciates her in a way nate never did. And it'd be funny if cassie tried flirting with him and maddy was having none of it.

𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 || 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐳

"𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 "𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶" 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 "𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘺" 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦?"

Inspo: Phora - To The Moon

Pairing: Maddy Perez x Male!reader

Summary: Maddy could find herself frequently mistaken you for a teddy bear. So soft for her and so fragile from the criticism of others. But that’s what made her love you so much.

(gif used is not mine)

Warnings: Fluff and very minor smut

Words 1150

The one thing Maddy could compare you to was a teddy bear.

Your body is strong, sturdy, warm, but all so comforting to be wrapped up in. Dangerous from a distance because of your towering height that could form shadows over others, but so delicate to the ones you loved and cared for. Which were the biggest catfish that she’s ever seen. How the hell was someone so fucking hulking in size so damn soft with girls like her or any of her friends? For god sake, you were on the Defensive Line on the football team. You shouldn’t be this fucking nice!

Out of all of the boys she dated and hooked up with, you were the best of the best. She knew she could never do any better than you. From the relatability that the two of you had to the unconditional love, you held for one another. It hadn’t even been the first month of dating and you had walked up to her out of nowhere and told her, “If you ever break up with me, I hope you know that I would love you even after death.” That may have been where she realized that your softness and affection were heavily underestimated. And she liked knowing that she was the only person in Highland to ever get to have it.

And here she was, sitting in the lounge with the rest of the girls and then you. You were laid between her legs and your face buried in her stomach and arms wrapped firmly around her waist. Your legs sprawled out on the floor to the point that people had to pay attention to where they were walking or they would trip over you. Soft snores left you as you muttered incoherent words sleepy. If you weren’t a teddy bear, you sure as hell acted like a toddler seeking her attention and love.

And as they were talking, you rested the side of your head on her stomach and muttered out, “I love you.”

Maddy looked down at you with a soft grin, swearing she could cry from how precious you looked in such a position. “How the hell is he that fucking adorable?” Jules asked, trying her hardest to contain the giggles at the lovable actions. Such as saying I love you in your sleep.

But she didn’t know how to answer Jules’ question. You were unpredictable with the way you showcased the love you held for her. It could come at such random moments, such as when she would decide to try and be the big spoon and you would willingly fall into her arms. With someone so masculine and jock-like, you held a softer side than most people expected.

“He just looks like a child and it's fucking cute,” Kat gushed as Maddy smiled warmly at her friends. During the time of you two being together, you had gotten along with all of them. Creating this older brother type of relationship, to the point that they would go to you if they ever needed someone to talk to or need help with something. And they all were just as surprised as Maddy when you turned out to be the most charmingly cute guy they had ever met.

No explanation could be given as to how Maddy had ever deserved such a loving guy. But she never would take you for granted.

“You’re so beautiful.” Your husky words and warm breath fanned her neck as she gasped and moaned with each delicate pound of your hips. Allowing her to flourish in the pleasure of your cock filling her to the brim.

With her arms pinned above her head, your fingers interlocked with hers, your body was situated between her legs that were wrapped around your waist. Your warm body pressed against hers with your hips rocking ever-so softly until you would pick up pace occasionally. She knew you loved staying in this moment for as long as you could. And she loved it when you wanted your time to be filled with only her.

Your lips ghosted along her jaw, placing delicate kisses with your hips suddenly pounding against hers. She could never truly grasp how you could maintain such a comforting nature with a ruthless and tortuous system of denying her release. But she loved you for it.

Kissing her cheek, smiling softly at the breathless pleas falling shamelessly from Maddy’s lips. It was all music to your ears. It was an out-of-body experience when she clamped around your cock in a vice when you hit her most sensitive spots. She was a drug and safe haven you would continue to fall into until your last breath. “I love you, Maddy.”

Hearing that was enough for her to bite her bottom lip. Finding a second wind of strength and freeing her hands from yours. Somehow spinning you around so the roles were reversed with you now laying on your back and her on top. Your momentary shock was replaced with a hum of Maddy’s hands cupping your cheeks and kissing you.

It wasn’t heavy. It wasn’t one of lust. Just passion. Nothing more and nothing less. It was enough for you to understand that every single thought and unspoken word she’s ever held from telling you was in this one simple and loving kiss.

She parted with her straddling your hips, moaning as she sank further down onto you. All the while her hands dragged down to your hands and interlocked your fingers with hers. Rocking her hips enough to create stimulation that left her moaning softly with your head falling back against the bed.

Leaning forward, she pinned your hands above your head with her placing a kiss on your nose. Smiling fondly at you as she said, “And I love you too.”

The A/C was on low, blasting enough warmth in the vehicle that you could be comfortable. Sipping from the straw of your A&W cup filled with sprite. Your other hand interlocked with Maddy’s as the two of you sat in your car listening to music. Not saying anything, just listening.

This was a ritual after sex, as weird as that sounded. It just gave the two of you time to wind down and allow yourself to be engulfed in the comfortable silence. Usually, you would be driving, but after the work Maddy put you through an hour ago, you decided to just find a peaceful spot in Highland and chill.

Brooklyn Baby played through the speakers as Maddy laid on your chest with your arms encompassing her figure perfectly. Like she was meant to be held by you. And she was confident in the fact that she believed she was always destined to find someone as loving as you. She would be willing to give you everything in the world.

Everything on earth and to the moon.

[kaaytea]

hey! i hope youre doing great! if it isnt a problem, could you do atsumu, oikawa, sakusa and kuroo with a s/o who overthinks alot and notices that theyre hanging out with someone else alot recently and is scared that they're going to leave but they reassure reader that they won't leave? it'd be nice if it was fluffy :(((

Hi cutie! I'm doing well and I hope you are too! I apologize if Sakusa isn't very..Sakusa-y?? I'm still figuring him out a bit 😅 I tried my best to make it fluffy enough, I hope what I wrote will suffice

The Dangers of Overthinking

⤷Includes: Oikawa, Kuroo, Atsumu, Sakusa

-------------------------------------------

Oikawa

It's no secret that Oikawa is a pretty popular guy

And usually this doesn't bother you much, no matter how busy Oikawa was he always had little ways to reassure you he wasn't ignoring you

Gradually you started to notice him spending less time checking in on you throughout the day, the most you'd get is a pat on the head, a quick kiss, or a short text before Oiks slipped away with the rest of his team

You did your best to ignore the little voice in your head expressing that he was avoiding you. Oikawa was committed to his sport and that was fine, this behavior was normal

But the one thing you couldn't shake was whenever he went off with the team there was a person you didn't recognize in the group

You'd met his team HUNDREDS of times and by this point you knew everyone by name, number, and position from the hours you've sat with Tooru and watched game recordings. It was the middle of the season so they couldn't have suddenly got a new player

So who was this person? And why was your boyfriend always gravitating towards them?

Overthinking was dangerous for you, the longer you dwelled the further you fell into the dark doubts tucked into the back of your mind

This continued on for weeks until one day you just stayed in bed wrapped in blankets with only your thoughts

Setters are trained to notice small things, little details that could reveal a weakness in defense, anything that would help them decide who to set too

Oikawa was beautifully gifted in that aspect of a setter, it didn't take long to notice how distanced you'd become

Originally he thought it was a personal matter so he let you have your space, except unlike the other times you didn't bounce back. Infact, you were getting further from him the longer it went on

Oikawa quietly opened the door to your bedroom, letting his volleyball bag slip off his shoulder and placing it by the door

He sat down carefully on the side of your bed before he playful poked your side

"(y/n)-chaaan~"

You didn't respond and only pulled the sheets tighter around you causing a pout to form on his face

He gently pulled the sheets away from your head and pressed his hand to your forehead

"You don't have a fever so you're definitely not sick.....wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"You're not gonna leave me, right?"

Your voice was so quiet he just barely heard what you said

The hand on your forehead slipped down to your cheek, his thumb brushed softy across your cheek bone

"Why would I leave you?"

"You keep hanging around that person"

"Ah, be a little more specific sweetie"

"The blonde one! The blonde that's been hanging off you when you're with the team!"

You finally open up to him and what's he do? LAuGh! He's laughing at you!

Tears started to burn in your eyes as you quickly went to pull the covers over your head and flip onto your side facing away from him, only Oiks was a step ahead and pulled you into a sitting position facing him

"W-wait wait, Let me explain! (Y/n)-chan, that's our new manager. They've been helping me plan out drills for the team."

"Oh"

Well now you felt a bit silly

After a few seconds of silence you sighed and hid your face in Oikawa's shoulder. His arms wrapped around you body and he leaned back against your headboard

He spent the rest of the night holding you, whispering promises of never leaving you and how you're more important to him than anything else

Kuroo

Kuroo's friendly personality seemed to just attract people

I mean it was definitely something that hooked you so it was understandable why people tend to flock to him

It's just frustrating when he seems to have plans with people all the time, you barely see him these days

You didn't want to bring this to his attention in fear of being seen as clingy or controlling; Tetsu was your partner and had his own life, he wasn't a pet you could whistle for whenever you felt lonely

But you couldn't help but feel a bit....rejected

You were only about 5 minutes into lunch break and so far all you've done is lay your head on your desk and watched the rain fall outside

The gloomy day enhanced your depressed mood, your mind caught in the whirlpool of overthinking

Suddenly a little package was placed in front of you, followed by the sound of a chair being pulled up to your desk

You lifted your head from the desk only to find the very person that's been stuck in your mind sitting infront of you

"I got you melon bread from that bakery you like down the street, I would have given it to you earlier but you weren't here when I got to campus this morning."

"I missed my train..."

Kuroo snorted at your response and muttered something about you being cute before pulling out his lunch and beginning to eat

You opened the melon bread package, it looked delicious but your appetite seemed to have vanished

Kuroo watched you tear off a piece of the bread before placing the piece back on the wrappings with a sigh

Something was definitely wrong, you never turned down pastries from that bakery

"Not hungry?"

"Not really..."

"Did something else happen this morning? You're looking a bit...dejected"

You could never lie to Kuroo, and at this point you were so fed up with feeling alone that you didn't care about looking clingy, so you told him

He listened carefully to what you said and when you finished your rant he reached over the desk to hold your hands in his

"I'm sorry I made you feel like that. It won't happen again, I promise.....You've gotta tell me these things though, ok? I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

You could tell he meant every word he said, if there was one thing you knew about Kuroo it was that he prided himself on staying true to his promises

You felt a weight off your shoulders the second he pressed a kiss to your hand

You even got your appetite back and devoured the melon bread he got you!

Atsumu

You'd of never expected Atsumu to spend time with someone outside of the volleyball team

Especially one of his fan girls of all people

All this interaction between the two started abruptly during lunch break. The girl had bounced up and pulled him away from your little group before anyone could get a word in, everyone just stared as the blonde was dragged down the hall

You were use to the fan girls, 'Tsumu never gave them the time of day so it was never a problem, but this just felt...off

Why was he suddenly paying attention to one of them? Was he bored of you? We're you just not enough to satisfy his ego?

You were torn from your thoughts by a gentle call of your name

You turned your attention from the clipboard in your lap to the direction of the voice meeting Kita's soft but steady eyes

"You seem less energetic than normal, have you eaten anything today?"

"Oh I'm fine Kita-senpai, you don't have to-"

You were cut off by him handing you a banana and a rant about how even their manager has to be in peak condition

You couldn't refuse Kita so you took the food with a smile and powered through the rest of practice

You left immediately after you finished cleaning the gym, ignoring the calls from Atsumu to wait up for him

You tried to walk fast so he wouldn't be able to catch up but the universe seemed to be against you as he easily jogged up to you minutes after you left

"Wassup with ya today? Kita-san said you were actin' weird."

"I'm surprised you noticed he said anything, your attention seems to be on other people."

Atsumu stepped infront of you, blocking you from walking further down the road

"Wass that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know Miya, why don't you ask your little fan girl"

You stepped around him attempting to run the rest of the way home but his hand grabbed your arm, spinning you back around to face him

Atsumu's hands held you in place to keep you from running away

"That's what this is about? That annoyin' scrub who won't leave me alone?"

"Annoying scrub?"

Atsumu went on explaining how he was partnered with her for a project in Japanese history and how even after they finished the project she wouldn't leave him alone (no matter how many times he told her to go away)

After he explained you felt a little better but you still felt insecurities scratching at your mind

You reached out for his hand and started walking again, keeping your eyes on the ground as you walked

"You didn't think I was cheatin' on ya.....right?"

"....."

".....I'd never leave ya for someone like that, yer the only one I've got my eyes on. Plus, yer the only person I've found that can tolerate me."

You laughed slightly at that, he wasn't completely wrong. Atsumu was a rather complex person but you found something enjoyable in that complexity

He let go of your hand and pulled you into his side, keeping his arm wrapped around your waist as you walked

Sakusa

Ok so maybe you were a bit jealous

Not much, but just a bit

You should have expected Sakusa would have admirers as the ace of Itachiyama (not to mention he was a very handsome guy)

But it still catches you off guard with how outwardly flirty your fellow manager was

Like they even know you're in a relationship with Kiyoomi and yet they continue to throw themselves at him

Being jealous over that was honestly very silly on your part because Sakusa has expressed their flirting makes him uncomfortable

So really there wasn't anything to worry about

Well...

That is until one day you overheard them telling Sakusa they enjoyed going out last night and that they should do it again

Which he responded with a "maybe"

If you were paying attention you would have noticed the flat tone to his voice and how his body language exuded 'Im very uncomfortable please go away'

But you being you, the second the manager opened their mouth your mind shut down and your blood went cold

They went out together last night?

You avoided everyone for the rest of practice, offering instead to clean practice jerseys and water bottles

Those were jobs usually done by two people but you needed to get away from everyone and you were hoping the jobs would take up the rest of practice

By the time you were nearly done with cleaning the water bottles, Sakusa had joined you at the outside fountain, mask pulled up on his face, his bag on one shoulder and yours on the other

"Do you want help?"

"You don't have to Omi.....it's my job anyways"

Despite your dismissal of his offer, he placed both your bags down and helped you clean the rest of the bottles, even going as far as carrying them back into the gym for you

You followed him over to the equipment room, you unlocked the door and took the box from his arms and put it on It's shelf

"You ready to go?"

"Almost, I have to throw the jerseys into the dryer. You can go on ahead without me."

"I'll wait, I want to avoid Komori. I don't feel like being dragged out with his friends again."

Dragged out with his friends? So it wasn't a secret date, Sakusa was forced to go by his cousin

Sakusa made his way by you to the gym's laundry room, Swifty tossing the practice jerseys into the dryer and then returning to your side

"You can stop worrying now, I know you overheard our conversation earlier. I would have much rather spent the night with you than them....they're too pushy for my liking."

He picked up your bags again and offered you his arm (something he much preferred over holding hands)

though he was usually a stoic person, you could just see the warmth his eyes held as he looked at you

You linked your arm with his, soaking up the heat from his body and the calm atmosphere that surrounded him

[robert-de-niro-only-fans]

"You're All Wet"

Sam "Ace" Rothstein x Reader

Um, I made the decision to call him Ace in this fic, not entirely sure why! Reader and Ace knew each other before he went to Las Vegas and Reader stops in to visit, enjoy!!!

TW: implied smut, cheating, mentions of gang activity

Word Count: 1.7k

Just like any other night at The Tangiers, Ace Rothstein stalks the casino floor, like a predator waiting to pounce at the sight of a cheater in his beloved establishment. As his eyes scan the crowd, carefully watching everyone's body language for anything odd, there's a hitch when he swears he sees someone familiar. His eyes quickly double back and they land on you. In that moment, he feels like he's travelled back to the past and in another world simultaneously.

"(Y/N)?" he blinks in disbelief, "(Y/N), is that you?" He hasn't seen you in years! That face is all too familiar to him, but that body? Well... Let's just say you've grown up a bit.

"I gotta say, you're not looking so sharp right now, Ace, not with that dumbfounded look on your face," you giggle, holding your arms out for a hug, "You look like you've seen a ghost or something!"

He holds you tightly to him, nuzzling into the crook of your neck for a moment before pulling back and getting a better look at your face, "God... I feel like I have! Fuck, where are my manners, how have you been, darlin'?"

As you catch up, wandering away from the pits to somewhere more private, Ace finds his mind wandering back to old times in the Midwest, to when he knew you best. You're Remo Gaggi's only niece; you grew up with nothing but guys around you, guys who are all involved in the family business, so it only made sense that you were so interested in it too. But it was different with you, Gaggi wanted you to wait until you were an adult before getting into anything, so by the time you were allowed to know anything, you took it seriously because you knew you had something to prove being the only girl in the business.

Ace always admired how you came out swinging the minute you turned 18, ready to prove all your cousins and uncles wrong about you. But he really didn't get to see too much of it, before him and Nicky got sent to Las Vegas.

He even remembers their going away party, everyone getting together one last time before moving to the desert to make the bosses more cash than they could dream of. He remembers how you started to tear-up telling him goodbye, but you had a lot of pride and didn't want any of the guys to see you cry. However, you did cry when you finally got a moment alone with him, and Ace wiped your tears, promising you'd see each other again. And now, here you are in, halfway across the country, making sure that promise is kept.

"Where are ya stayin' tonight, doll?"

"Oh, just at some plaza hotel or something," you shrug.

"By yourself?" Sam inquires.

"Yeah, I'm grown now, ya know!"

"Oh no, no, that won't do. A girl like you shouldn't stay by herself in a city like this," he takes your hand across the table your both seated at, "Come stay with me."

"Ace, I don't wanna be a burden..."

"You're not a burden. I'm so happy to see you, it'd be an honor to have you in my home." His grip on your hand tightens reassuringly.

"You sure your wife will be okay with it?" It was the only defense you have left.

"My wife, eh?" He looks left then right slyly, "You know who pays for the place, right? I'll have a guest over if I like."

• • •

The next few days felt like old times but in a whole new place, a much richer and more luxurious place. Your first morning at Sam's house, you woke up early from jet lag, so you took the liberty of making breakfast for everyone. To which you were met with a "You didnt have to do that," when Ace caught you, but it was followed up by him hugging you from behind and laying his head on you, practically sleeping while standing up.

Of course, you hung out with Nicky too! They showed you all around their new stomping grounds out west. However, you can tell that Ace is making an effort to get alone time with you; you'd always had a special bond back home. Hell, you cried over the man when he left! You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss that closeness.

One night, as you're having a relaxing bubble bath in Ace's luxurious guest bathroom, you ponder on how much longer you should stay in Vegas. You bought a one way ticket because you weren't sure how things would go and you didn't want to be stuck here if things got hairy, but now... You feel like you want to stay for a while, but you don't want to take advantage of your friend's kindness either.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the doorknob wiggling before Ace lets himself in. "What? So you just walk in on girls in the bathroom now? I guess with all these Vegas dancers throwin' themselves at you, you must think you're hot shit or something."

"Oh, hush," he cracks a smile, strolling across the tiled floor before sitting down on the toilet lid.

As he sits back and looks you over, your head and bare shoulders being the only thing exposed, you taunt, "Like the view?"

He lightly snorts and shakes his head at you, "You look good, but I just wanted to spend some time with you before the wife gets home. God knows when that'll be." He rolls his eyes at the thought of his wife.

"You don't think it'll look suspicious, uh, hanging out with me while I'm in the bath?"

His eyes wander as if he's deep in thought, then he shrugs and returns his attention to you. "What did you do today?"

"Nothing too crazy. You and Nicky have had me so busy that I just went out for a mani-pedi," you relax back against the wall of the tub.

"Ooh, let me see," he says, leaning forward towards you. You slide a hand and a foot out from under the mountain of bubbles and hook them on the edge of the tub.

He inspects them before taking his hand in yours and holding it closer to him, "Very pretty, I like the color," he says quietly, then he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"Thank you," you giggle at him.

He returns your chuckle and places a few more kisses to the back of your hand and wrist.

"Ace, what are you doing?!" You squeal!

He simply let's out a hum and continues kissing up your arm, his kisses slowly turning from funny to passionate as he passes your elbow. Ace scoots away from his seat on the toilet and kneels beside your bath, lips never leaving your arm.

You feel that fire creeping up in your belly as he rounds your shoulder, lips and tongue working the soft skin of your clavicle. Your other hand rises up out of the bath water, and you cup the back of the man's head.

Feeling a bit of hesitation, Ace slowly moves his lips towards your neck, receiving a small but pleased exhale from you. As your eyes flutter closed, you tilt your head back, giving him access to your sensitive skin. He suckles and nibbles there for what feels like eternity but also only a second, eliciting a series of breathy moans from your lips.

After placing a few kisses to the spot, he pulls away from you slightly, just enough to see your face. You stare at each other in a haze, familiar eyes locked onto yours, and his better judgement leaves him as he graces his lips across yours. Your lips dance with one another's, eyelashes brushing the other's face, in such a soft gentle moment, before he claims your mouth with his. Your emotions are on high from the passionate kiss, until you remember this isn't old times and this man before you is no longer yours to take.

Your lips part from his, "Sam..." It's just above a whisper.

The use of his first name makes the severity of the situation hang in the air like wind chimes waiting for a breeze, the sound of silence deafening to your ear drums. You'd only ever called him that once before, also in a serious moment: a moment when your confession of your feelings for him hung on the tip of your tongue, but you didn't want him to carry that weight to Vegas with him.

His eyes glance over your visage, that beautiful face filled with worry. You should never feel anything but happiness, Ace thinks to himself. The rough pad of his thumb gently strokes your cheek, while the rest of his fingers nestle just behind your ear. Your eyes are cast down, trying not to look at him, so you don't see it coming when he leans forward and kisses you again.

Your lips move together once again, and your hands find his shoulders, gripping onto him as if he might slip away. You sit up on your knees in the bathtub, and immediately Ace's arms are around your waist, pulling your soaking wet body close to his. His hands tangle in your damp locks, and he fumbles around before throwing a leg over the wall of the bath tub and sliding into the water with you. He settles down onto his knees and pulls you across his lap, never breaking your kiss.

Your fingertips comb through his hair, as your making out slows to a halt. Gently cupping his cheek, you take a look at him, "You're all wet," you state quietly.

Slowly, this elicits laughter from both of you. You both stay like that for a moment before he takes you in his arms and lifts you from your bath, carefully stepping out and leaving a hefty trail of water leading right to the guest bedroom where you've been staying.

That night as he makes love to you with his clothes piled in a wet heap on the floor all around the bed, the only thing on his mind is you. He's waited what feels like a lifetime to have you, so nothing would keep him from you, not even the sound of his wife coming home somewhere between rounds 3 and 4.

[yarbz]

cowardly game of rival — n.jaemin ( f )

synopsis!

 ━ as the girl’s football team captain, you were used to the endless derogatory taunts, the wolf-whistling, the attempts at romance being boys telling you what they thought of barcelona’s starting XII. na jaemin fell into all those catergories, a detestable flea in your hair. as sworn enemies, there was not even an inkling of romance, and you were convinced that your attraction to him was ONLY physical. weren’t you?

pairing ━ na jaemin x female!reader

word count ━ 6k

genres ━ fluff, rival!au, football!au, comedy, romance, very little of the football game is described in detail.

warnings ━ profanity, football terms, dirty jokes, y/n and jaemin are literally just cowards

( author's note! )

this one came to mind when i thought of how i love female footballers and decided that jaemin would be the idiot in question to chicken out of confessing to their crush by being an ass instead. i really hope you like it !! other notes are sissoko is the name of like three different players and a cracker is slang for a really good goal.

Football.

A sport of creatively insane wits, fancy footwork and incoherent celebrations. Those were all the things you loved about it, along with the ridiculously cute uniform.

It provided you an escape from the man's world, a chance to carve out your own story, free from the shackles of stereotypes. At least, that's what you'd initially thought.

Unfortunately, the boy's football team made it their sole objective in life to demean you. As captain, you took on the strenuous task of refusing to resort to physical violence when a stupid comment about your short length was made or when boys assumed you couldn't tell your Sissoko's apart (you could, quite well actually).

You had taken it as a sign of war, and refused to comment on their pathetic sneers. You did, however, feel as if Na Jaemin made a blood pact or something to be a parasite towards you.

He stood at the cusp of six foot, towering over you like an evergreen beanstalk, cheshire-cat like smile taunting you. Chocolate colour tresses fell over his eyes in straight lines, shielding his forehead.

It's not like you paid attention to his visage, but even you had to admit in your spite that he was attractive. And horribly so.

Today started like every other, going to your locker before heading to your homeroom. Luckily, you'd managed to get there before the freshmen started to pile in. Being a senior had its positives along with its various faults, one of them being the early access you got to the school.

You jammed your key in the lock, flinging open the locker door, making quick work of exchanging your books. In your fast-paced stupor, you didn't notice the figure leaning behind the door. You slammed the door shut, nail catching an patch of skin, scraping it.

"If you wanted me to leave, you could've been less catty." The voice wheedled, throwing a withering glare in your direction. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, arms crossed across your chest.

"Jaemin." You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Why are you hiding behind my locker? Are you looking for a death wish?"

He sat up slowly, soothing his reddening nose, suddenly regaining his smile as he leaned closer towards your face. "If I was looking for a death wish, I'd eat whatever food you just stuffed in there."

"Fuck off. Don't see you making any gourmet meals."

"I'm the gourmet meal." He slithered, breath fanning your nose. From this distance, you could see the wonder swimming within his eyes, breath caught in your throat.

Damn, he was too fine.

You tore your gaze from his eyes, "And yet, I don't feel inclined to taste it." He jumped back in surprise, eyes widening, giving you an opening to dash. Chuffed that you left him speechless, you walked towards your next class, resisting the urge to turn back to revel in his awe-struck face.

Jaemin's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, crooked smirk hanging from his lips. He watched you stalk away, cursing underneath his breath softly. You carried a fiery aura around you, burning him with every snarky remark — even though it beat him bruised ghastly lavenders, he could bear to play with fire if it meant you would pay him attention.

You see, Jaemin did not hate you as per say. The 'hate' which you believed in was merely his inability to profess his affections towards you. For lack of a better word, he was a coward.

A dashingly handsome one, but a fragile, chicken-legged coward all the same.

You'd made it to class in record time, ego bared boldly on your shoulders, attracting the curious eyes of your best friends Yangyang and Donghyuck. Both were terrorists in their own right, but you couldn't help loving them all the same. Sure, they came as a dreadful pair, but love had decided to shackle your heart to them.

"What's got you so happy? Jaemin finally drop dead?" Yangyang joked, shifting to make space for you. Headband strapped to the pinnacle of his forehead, he grinned at you from beneath the base of stretchy ebony material.

"No..not yet." You hummed, sad lilt to your tone.

"Awh, didn't kill him yet?" Donghyuck teased, nudging Yangyang in their laughter. "I think it must be love stopping you from committing the crime yourself." You shoved both, peals of laughter tickling your throat at their whines of pain.

"If you don't shut up, I'll be killing you two instead, never mind Jaemin." You snapped. "Love is what I feel when I score a cracker from the halfway line. Seeing Jaemin makes me want to jump out of the nearest window."

"Are you sure it's not just unresolved sexual tension? I, too get antsy when I haven't jacked off—"

"Finish that sentence and you'll have no arms."

"I'm flexible enough to suck myself off." Yangyang mused, "You'll never stop my libido."

"You're disgusting." You and Donghyuck said in sync, swatting his grabby hands from flying at your shoulders. Quite frankly, you didn't want to hear about his freakishly boneless limbs, or his untameable sex drive, nor hear anything about his genitals at all.

"Does that count as self—"

"Yes, it does. Please don't be telling people that I'm your friend, or that you can do that. It's not a little icebreaker."

Friendship with these two had crossed all sorts of personal boundaries you didn't know existed, and it was starting to decompose you, like a rotting piece of cabbage infested by slugs, yet still hanging on for the glimpse of sunlight to regenerate.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. But, that didn't explain their dire need to over share certain aspects of their lives with you.

"Doesn't change the topic at hand —Did you get my pun?" He asked, looking for Donghyuck's reaction.

"I did. Not going to comment on it before she breaks my arms. Just know I enjoyed it very much."

"If I wanted to mess around with Jaemin, I'd put my hand in a beehive. It'd sting less." You snarled, slamming down your books. They winced comically, faces alert as the teacher walked into the class.

Apart from football, you enjoyed learning — how to make things, break things, self defense, people skills, and education fell not too far from that. Classes like biology interested you greatly, which is why you found yourself fully immersed in the process of respiration.

Your mind drifted for a second, thinking back to what he'd said. Was it actually sexual tension? Did you actually bare an emotion other than loathing towards him? Then, you thought of that face and how you'd want to do nothing more than break his pretty little nose—

Yeah. There it was. You were normal after all.

School had come to her daily dreadful end, and you were happily striding into the ladies' changing rooms for football training. Nobody had gotten here yet, luckily.

You glanced over into the full body mirror, tugging at your shorts until they fell just above the bump of your knee, pulling your sock midway at your calf. Lean abs shone underneath the dim light, and you proudly paraded around the room, happy to be alone.

A knock on the door came, and you swung the door open with a feverish excitement. "Who is it?"

"Didn't take me as a bra kinda girl. Was thinking more spandex or a binder." Jaemin seethed, hands on hips, azure jersey hanging off his lithe frame.

"You're insufferable. Why are you here?" You groaned, choosing to ignore his taunt at your breast size. His eyes crinkled into upside down crescents, wandering lower to the dip of your frilly black bra.

"To see my favourite girl, of course." He whistled, eyes still glued to your unmarked expanse of skin. "I think those need a new owner." He pointed towards your chest.

"Preferably one whose face I can stand to look at."

"I'm roaring with laughter." You snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm, making no attempt to cover yourself up. Jaemin was still staring, face flushed a flaming cerise. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna leave me alone?"

"I'm not staring. Why are you staring at me?" He shot defensively. Your eyes narrowed at him, watching his cheeks darken with every lingering stare.

"You're in the girl's changing room, drooling over two lumps of fat on the body of a girl that you hate. The real inquisition here is your lack of sensibility to stop thirsting after anything with a vagina."

Jaemin stayed silent, eyes boring holes into your full lips, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his own nimble, chapped ones. Rolling your eyes, you lead him to the door, hand clasped against the door handle.

Then, you heard loud footsteps approaching the room, incoherent rambling increasing in clarity. You began to conjure up a plan, wondering how on Earth you'd be able to kick Jaemin out without the girls knowing.

With the shouts of the team gradually getting closer, you panicked, chucking Jaemin into a locker.

"Fine, I'll leave! Lemme out!" He squirmed, trying to come out of the metal confines.

"You can't leave now, they're literally outside. Do you want to be stomped to death by Nike Mercurials?" You hissed, closing the door over, much to his protests.

"Don't wanna die with the last image being your breasts."

"If you survive this, I'll gladly provide you a new image."

He shut up at that, and you straightened, reaching for your jersey in a false calmness. The girls burst in, squeals of various greetings being thrown across the room.

You smiled gently at them, encouraging them to get changed, joining in to laugh at their jokes. The topic kept shifting from manicures to new boots before finally settling on Na Jaemin.

"Cap'n, what's going on with you and Jaemin?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes softly. "A boy on the football team told me that you guys are dating."

Dating..that devil? A sin punishable by death! You repelled all instinct to shudder in disgust, instead choosing to maintain a neutral expression.

"I am absolutely not dating Na Jaemin. He's a despicable little mongrel and I'd rather eat my shoe—"

"Mon bébé chérie, why do you curse me like this?" Jaemin squeezed from the locker, voice like a wounded puppy.

"Did you hear that? I think it was—"

"No! It's my Jaemin impression. Isn't it so good?" You spluttered, voice rising in volume. You were sure that your face was a painful beetroot, breathing crazily as you over-exerted yourself.

"Cap'n, it was so good I almost thought Jaemin was in here with us!" She gushed, hands clasped. "You guys would be so cute together. Even if you don't like him, I think he most definitely has feelings for you."

The rest of the girls joined in at this, shouts of 'you should take a chance!' resounding in the hollow room. You'd already ruled out that as a possibility, chalking it down to his uncontrollable thirst for being a pest. Na Jaemin was your rival, the utter bane of your existence, a rodent that fed on robbing your spirits dry of any positivity.

"He'll get a chance when pigs fly." You muttered, noticing their eyes staring at you inquisitively, as if they knew something you didn't. Awkwardly, you smiled at the girls, ushering them towards the door, scanning the hallway after the last one had skipped out.

Jaemin untangled himself from the locker, straightening his limbs, pulling at his calves in a stretch. You peered over your shoulder, frown deepening at him.

"Did you mean what you said?" Jaemin breathed, walking into your personal bubble. He was way too close. His breath tickled your forehead, eyes dark with something you couldn't decipher.

He felt his heart pound against his chest, resisting the urge to pick the stray hair in your eye to the side. You were looking at him with a confused expression, nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to be the death of him. Devastated, he broke eye contact, feeling all forms of fight seep from his bones.

"You don't like me." You whispered, wincing at the wobble in your voice. "Everyone's just saying that....right?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"No. I want you to say no."

"I can't do that."

"Well, you have to say no. I don't want to hear the rest of your sentence — keep us as just this." You softly yelled, pointing between the pair of you. "Don't change anything."

"Okay. I'll leave, but only because you want me to. But, before I go..you've gotta start being more observant." He sighed, ruffling your hair before making his way out.

"I’m plenty observant. Wouldn’t be a good player if I wasn’t.”

"I’ll see it when I believe it. Oh, and the thing you said about pigs flying..”

“What about it?”

“Renjun’s working on it.”

You laughed heartily, locking the door behind you. So, Jaemin did in fact think of you as his Aphrodite — all those nicknames were genuinely created out of affections. 'Mon bébé chérie' held a lot more emotional weight than it did twenty minutes ago, and you had to breathe before your eyes prickled with saltine tears.

Fresh air hit you like a loaded delivery truck, Mother Nature delicately wiping the tears from your eyes, shaking you with a cold flourish, roaring your cheeks to life. The team had already started their warm-up drills, as opposed to the boys' football team who were cooling down from their jog.

You ran over, tightening your ponytail, shifting into 'Captain' mode. The coach pushed you into the circle, encouraging you to take the reins. "Team, we've been doing nothing but straight work. Let's make this session count before the match tomorrow." You shouted, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline.

The team chanted back, settling into their positions for the first drill — a penalty shoot out. You stepped to the ball, striding back to gain a better angle, socks hugging your knees.

Giving yourself a five second countdown, you charged at the ball, foot pointed, kicking it with a passion that rivalled Lionel Messi. It rolled in the back of the net, flying past Hyejoo, who could barely even process it.

"Still got those fire feet, I see, Cap'n!"

"Lady Luck gave them to me for a reason." You boasted, smugness slapped all over your face.

From the corner of your eye, Jaemin snickered, winking at you when you turned to make eye contact. At least he had the audacity to keep up appearances in front of everyone, even if you had probably made everything awkward.

"My granny could kick better than that, babes!" He boomed from across the pitch, teasing smirk on his lips.

"Your granny lives in a retirement home and still calls on you 'Nana Banana'..it's not very nice to lie." You retorted, eyes narrowed, nearing his hunched form.

"Doesn't mean she can't kick your ass. Granny was a little Aguero back in the day."

"She can't if I'm the Manè, can she?"

"But I'm a Modric. I'll beat your ass, any day, any time." He grinned, leaning in to you. "In any way you want."

You heard blood pumping in your ears, your cheeks filling with immense heat. He grabbed your cheeks softly, grinning even wider when you flushed even warmer, a human sauna. Pushing a lock out of your eyes, he searched your eyes for any sense of rage, face softening at your lack of that emotion.

"Any..way..I want?" You mouthed silently, innuendo catching your attention again as you mulled over the words. "Na Jaemin, you're a dirty boy."

"I think you're the dirty girl." He hummed, saying the next sentence in an octave that made your head spin, quietly enough that only the two of you could hear. "Sauntering around in your little Victoria's Secret bra, cozying up to me without even batting an eyelash or covering up."

"These boobs are mine. I'm allowed to show them to anyone I want."

"So you admit to showing them to me? You admit that you were trying to put on a show for me?" He pressed, purposely craning his neck over you.

"I was trying to change. If you didn't come into the room like a little pervert, you'd never have gotten a visual of these."

"And yet I know how they look now. There's nothing that can erase that image."

"Fuck you, Na Jaemin."

"I think you meant to say fuck me, but I'll allow the slip-up just because I'm so nice." You squirmed under his predatory gaze, heat in your cheeks akin to a fever. "Better get back to training, Cap. Your team's got a match tomorrow."

You hissed at him weakly, choosing to walk away from his provocation, going back to the team, who were all smiling at you with a glint in their eye. By the looks on their faces, they'd definitely taken that exchange as a form of flirting.

Not that you were disputing it, of course.

The coach rounded the girls up, calling them to grab bibs. You relaxed, running over to take the last bib once you'd calmed down. Na Jaemin was a little toe-sucking, filthy mongrel who only knew how to charm his way out of everything — totally not your ideal type or anything.

His penance for being blunt coupled with that honeyed voice was what was throwing you off. Not your physical attraction to him. At least, you hoped so.

The shrill shriek of the whistle behind you shook you out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the practice game. With every shot at the goal, you could see Jaemin taunting you, making kissy faces.

After the first half, you weren't sure if it was real or if you were hallucinating — almost like a mirage, he was wearing that stupid little smirk and there was nothing more you wanted than to slap those lips clean off his face.

Soon enough, you clocked that it wasn't just an illusion, as he'd shifted to the opposite end of the pitch, the other boys from the football team watching from the stands.

They'd started jeering at every pass, exaggerating their reactions, commentary toeing the border of sexual harassment. You volleyed the ball on your foot, battering it into the stands, grinning widely as it hit one of the boys in the face, leaving his nose lopsided.

"If you're gonna be a sexist piece of shit, just fuck off. My team doesn't deserve to hear your brain-dead commentary, nor see your fuck face." You smiled, bite in your voice. "Kindly take the opinion that nobody asked for and shove it up your ass."

Jaemin's eyes twinkled with respect, breath caught in his throat at the dark look in your eyes. He felt his chest warm in adoration, heart doubling in size. "You heard the lady."

"Includes you too, Jaemin. Better get home before Granny Na starts missing her little boy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fuck off." You said playfully, recovering the ball. He waved you bye, lugging his bag over his shoulder, fixing the collar of his jersey. A beam touched your lips, face lighting up.

Jaemin smirked back at you, taking his leave. He dragged the remnants away with him, leaving the girl's football team alone in the cooling dwindle of Autumn light.

"Nice shorts." A tug.

"Oh? Na Jaemin complimenting me?" You mused in surprise, arms folded across your chest.

"You didn't let me finish." Jaemin whispered, standing on the sidelines of the pitch, pulling at the hem of your shorts. "Ooh, I can see your stubble. Better bring out the razor."

Your jaw tightened, feeling that rush of annoyance fill your veins again. The nerve.

"More stubble than you'll ever grow on that chin."

"At least I'm not a human Sasquatch."

"I've got hair in the right places—" You started, catching the innuendo, glaring at Jaemin's raised eyebrows. "—I know what I meant. Don't be such a dirty boy."

"Say it again. Love the way it rolls off your tongue."

You gaped at him, whole body blowing a fuse, skin reddening at his tone. Sweltering heat danced atop each fingertip, each muscle, making you jolt. His gaze was still glued to your face, relishing the quickly dilating pupils in your eyes.

"I—"

"—Would rather have you speechless after our first time, not for your championship final. When you win, I'll buy you fucking adorable ice cream with the little star sprinkles that you like."

"Going to ignore you on that first statement, but the second one sounds like a motive."

"Win the match, and I'll ask you out. Properly."

You saw his eyes flash with something passionate, flakes of gooey molasses swirling behind the irises. Before you opened your mouth to reply to him, he pleaded silently for you to just take it as it was. "Gimme a chance. Who knows you better than your enemy? Nobody."

"I mean..."

"Only you know that my grandma calls me those corny names or that I see her all the time."

"Or that you lose every game that's not football because you're too lazy to pay attention." You added.

"And I know that you broke a guy's jaw because he was bothering Yangyang." He continued. "And I also know that you know one thing I've never told anyone."

"Ooh, what's that?"

"That I like you."

You looked away from him sheepishly, goosebumps popping up on your skin, and whether it was from the cold or from his words, you didn't know. He was looking down at you tenderly, ruffling your bed of hair, pressing a small, wet kiss to your forehead as the whistle blew.

"Don't play with fire, Na."

"You're more like a carpet burn."

You sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll give you an answer when we win. If you're playing me, I'll break your arms."

"Okay. Go get 'em, Lady Luck." He smiled, waving you off as you scurried onto the pitch, face glowing under the fluorescent lights. Jaemin felt his chest tighten with pride, jaw aching from all the strenuous smiling.

With that absurdly contented face, you reminded him of a cross between a kid at a carnival and a man about to kill another. Your hair gathered wildly atop your head, a wicked glare painting your face.

This was you at peace, he deduced. Even with the gruesome of expressions, you looked calm. The pitch was truly your home away from home.

Two minutes into the second half saw you being carried off on a stretcher with a torn hamstring. You'd fallen to the grass, no sounds coming from your limp body. Jaemin swore he felt his heart plunge into his ass, and with a frantic flourish, he was coddling your head into his chest.

"Luck, don't die on me. I'm supposed to take you out for ice cream after this, and I stole Renjun's Baskin Robbins loyalty card to cut costs so if we don't go, I'll be getting beat up without having kissed your stupid face." He babbled, slapping your cheeks, scared that you'd genuinely lost your life.

You groaned, rolling slowly in the elastic. "Stop touching my face, I'll get acne." Mildly concussed, you soothed your throbbing headache, registering Jaemin's face looming over you. "Jaemin?"

"Oh, thank God. Thought I'd never see that unruly sparkle in your eyes again."

"Fuck off. My hamstring feels like a fried chicken mukbang and you're talking about my eyes."

"I can't cry before our first date. You'll think I'm a wimp."

"Already think that."

He hit your arm lightly, beaming at your focus on his face, meeting your eyes. You were glaring at him with a kissable pout on your lips, eyebrows furrowed — he wanted to pepper your face in balmy kisses.

The paramedic pushed him away, leading you to the ambulance. You flipped him off, yelling loudly as they wheeled you in, "Make sure you win! Won't forgive you if you don't."

The girl's football team had gathered around the door, all tight-lipped smiles and crumpled faces. They visibly brightened at your declaration, huddling together to recalibrate — the ref blew her whistle to call them back, summoning them back into position.

Yangyang and Donghyuck left the stands, rushing into the ambulance alongside you, closing the door behind them. Jaemin could faintly hear your loud curses, and sighed in relief, knowing that you'd be fine.

With two goals up, the team were at optimum working speed, playing loyally for your honour. Jaemin stood at the sidelines, holding your jacket in his hands as he recorded the match on his phone, wanting to send it to you later.

At 90 minutes, the girl's team had become the winner of the Division One Seoul Inter-district championship, and Jaemin was content. Not because it meant you'd go on that date with him, but because he could feel how much it meant to them.

Everyone around him was cheering madly, chanting and spraying assorted drinks in each other's faces, an infectious joy lingering in his veins. Amongst all the commotion, he'd somehow been pushed into the middle of the team, feeling their gazes boring into his frame.

"You like Cap'n, right?" The brunette said, eyes bright.

"No. I don't like her. She's my rival." Jaemin lied pathetically, trying to escape their judgement.

"Why were you in the locker room then?"

"Damn. How do you know that?"

"Cap'n is horrible at lying, so she's always upfront. She also cannot do an impression so she never attempts it."

"Wow, you guys sure know your stuff. Bet she's glad to have a team like you. I know I'm feeling a little jealous."

"Cut the smooth talk. If you like Cap'n, just be straightforward. She's more innocent than she seems, and can get her heart broken easily."

"Got it." He nodded, "Well...ladies, I have to thank you for the advice."

"No problem, but if you break her heart.." They chorused, "We'll break that pretty little nose." Fifteen studded feet swung at his face, narrowly skimming the bridge of his nose.

He flinched, caught off guard, grin bared. "Now, I definitely got that message. I'll be going to check up on her, what do you want me to say?"

"We've already called her and shown her the trophy, so we have nothing left to say, you, however...take all the time you need."

"Since I have your blessing, am I allowed to—"

"Don't finish that sentence. Keep in your lane."

Jaemin promptly closed his mouth, and bid them a goodbye, dashing into his car towards the hospital, stopping at Baskin Robbins to buy the ice cream he promised. He hoped you’d at least be able to eat the sprinkles (the ones you liked were expensive, and if you didn’t eat them, he’d just wasted an extra 2,500 won.)

In the hospital, you were now dressed in a medical gown, surrounded by the two idiots. It smelt like an experiment lab, and the spotless shades of ivory splashed on the walls made you feel a tad bit overwhelmed.

Your leg had already undergone the MRSI scan, and the nurses had told you that you’d definitely tore your hamstring, but surgery would fix it right up along with natural healing.

Of course, all those details lacked in comparison to your team finally winning the trophy you’d worked so hard towards — that excitement numbed the pain considerably.

“We thought you’d somehow died.” Yangyang confessed, grasping your hands in his clammy ones.

“You did.” Donghyuck sneered, pointing at him, continuing when he saw your face change in confusion. “Yang was convinced that you were invincible like Superman or something. He started blubbering about how you could definitely defeat the grim reaper in close contact and that should be enough to steal back your soul or whatever—”

“I’m just never going to ask questions again.”

“Jaemin was on the verge of a breakdown when he saw you fall. Never have I ever seen him run so fast towards a girl.” Donghyuck said, hand on chin in mock thought.

You blushed, remembering your promise about the ice cream and falling back into the bed in distress.

“What’s going on with you? I saw you two all friendly at the sidelines.” Yangyang murmured, eyes squinting in judgement. “Don’t tell me...you guys fucked before the game?”

Suddenly it was too hot in the room. You fanned yourself to cool down, slapping your own cheeks before pulling Yangyang’s ears. “Yeah, because I have the guts to just have my first time in a school setting.” You deadpanned.

“Naughty girl.” Both boys swooned, unable to note your sarcasm.

“Just because my leg is gone doesn’t mean I can’t harm you anymore. I’ll break your kneecaps.”

In the midst of your fight with your best friends, you spotted Jaemin opening the door, wearing that greasy smirk that made butterflies tickle your throat.

“I see a broken leg isn’t enough to stop you, is it?” Jaemin drawled from the door, hands behind his back. “Still threatening people?”

“It’s not threatening if they deserve it.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. Jaemin maintained his distance from you, arm outstretched, ice cream tub in hand. He was looking away from you, faint blush tinting his cheeks, lips squeezed in a puffy ‘o’.

“Not that I remembered or anything, but you did say something about liking these sprinkles.” He said, eyes darting around to focus on anything but you.

“I do...like these sprinkles..how did you know?”

“Everyone calls you star, and you’re cute. It’s your personality in an edible sugar shape.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, forgetting both Donghyuck and Yangyang were seated in the room. It felt like the two of you were just stuck in your own world, glaring at each other like a pair of lovers.

Unfortunately, that moment was cut short by your ungracious best friends, cooing annoyingly. They were squealing like little girls, incomprehensible screams of ‘our girl’s grown up!’ scraping your eardrums.

“Leave me alone!” You whined, face scrunched in discomfort, making futile attempts to push them away. “Jaemin...please get these two off me.”

“Asking your boyfriend to get rid of us? Already?” Yangyang hollered, one of Jaemin’s arms stopping him from jumping on you again.

“He’s not my boyfriend. As of now, he’s the only sensible one who isn’t mauling the girl with a broken leg, and that’s why I’m asking him for help.”

“Should I throw them out?”

“Yes —actually, do whatever. Let them go terrorise someone that isn’t me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

On that, Jaemin escorted both boys outside, shutting the door on them, cutting off the beginning to their long-winded rant with a smile. That left the two of you alone.

Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t stifling but rather a conversation of the mind — you were able to see what he wanted to say by looking into those mocha coloured eyes. You threw the ice cream tub in the bin, reaching for Jaemin’s hands shyly.

He’d sat down beside you on the bed, just staring at you like you were an abstract painting, a mosaic of a splendid array, unable to take his eyes off you. He took your hand warmly, running his fingers over your calloused knuckles, sharing his heat with you.

“Jaemin.” You yawned, head falling onto his shoulder. “I’m saying yes to your date. If I didn’t get injured, you could’ve taken me out today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Being with you is enough for me, even if I do want to comment on your horrible tackles during the match.” Jaemin teased, grabbing your hand a little tighter.

“Haha...I’m dying of laughter.”

“Hey! None of that here.”

“Sorry. I’m just happy. My team won our first championship, which we’ve been trying to do for three years, and I feel on top of the world. All those years of boys being absolute dickheads to us about our abilities, trying to put us down have amounted to this moment. I’m at peace right now.”

“Don’t apologise. I should be sorry instead. It was easier to talk to you if I pretended I hated you. I shouldn’t have been like that.”

“I accept your apology. But..I think it was cute you couldn’t tell me you liked me! That’s so endearing.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s my line! Well, you were always attractive to me, even when you were being a dickhead. Now that I think about it, you’re at your hottest when you’re being mean.”

“Is that so?” Jaemin mused, rolling onto his hands, dangling over you, lips eerily close to your own. “Do you want me to treat you mean, keep you keen?”

“Firstly, don’t ever say that again.” You stopped him, hand placed on his chest to push him away lightly. “Secondly, I’ve never had a boyfriend or my first kiss. That means no experience.” You slurred that last part, rushing the words so he wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Cap’n, you’re telling me that I’ll be your first?”

“Not if you don’t ask me out.”

Jaemin sat back beside you, looking up to the ceiling. This was the moment. He took a deep breath, standing up before you, hands rubbing his stomach softly to calm down.

“I wanted to do a real dramatic confession, but I rushed over here in fear that you wouldn’t be able to hit me again, so I’ll have to stick with my speech.” He cheesed, trying to ease himself of his nerves. You laughed, hissing in mock anger when he wore that stupid grin. “I like you. Like a lot. Sometimes, I come to school with a dirty scowl on my face, but then I see your face and start smiling like a love struck fool. You’re someone that I wouldn’t want to lose.”

“Jaemin, you little mongrel. Come here.” You waved him over, arms outstretched in a hug. “Even though I know your ego won’t let you ask me out properly, I would love to be your girlfriend. However, if my heart is broken..I’ll be stoning your car.”

“Thought you were gonna say that you’d break my face.”

“That too.”

He snuggled closer into you, peering up at you with shining eyes, not wanting to move too much to keep you comfortable. You grinned back at him, placing a soft kiss on his head, running a hand through his hair.

That familiar silence returned, and that’s how you fell asleep with Na Jaemin enveloped in your chest. Although you’d broken a leg, Lady Luck seemed to have twiddled her fingers to send you a ‘get well soon’ present, the ever cunning Na Jaemin.

Five months later had you no longer hobbling around on crutches like a hobbit, but walking proud and tall. Jaemin drove you to school (using the excuse of carpooling) and helped you take your books to first period everyday — the alpha male in him winced seeing you attempt any ‘heavy lifting’, and he’d made it a routine.

“Can you fuck off? I can carry this.” You complained, pinching his side. “Just because I see a physio biweekly doesn’t mean I’m about as able-bodied as a monkey.”

“Got the hair to be a monkey.” He snorted.

“Look who’s talking, Mr.Sasquatch. Bigger feet than his prints, you little scoundrel.”

“Big feet means big—”

“Don’t finish that if you wanna keep the body part in question.”

“—heart. Dirty girl.”

You felt the honey pooling in your stomach, kissing his cheek in haste to escape his relentless teasing. He shut up at that, pulling you back to kiss you properly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hallway.

“Get to class.” He announced as he parted from you, enjoying your petulant face. You hit him softly, flipping him off from behind you, blowing him a kiss.

Ah, Na Jaemin. You still hated him. Just a little less this time.

[noszkass]

ashley tempest winthrope.

thirty six. defense attorney. jai courtney.

“You're supposed to grow out of your horridness, aren't you? I don't think I ever grew out of mine. Sometimes I think it's still inside me, like something nasty I swallowed, that got stuck...”

content warning: mentions toxic, co-dependent relationships; abuse; death of a peer/family member (via murder).

dominant traits. logical, charismatic, gentleman, stoic, focused, patient, selectively affectionate, charming, observant, cautious, possessive, unpredictable, self-preserving, forceful, obsessive, demanding, melancholic, aggressive, irritable, distrusting, unrelenting, loyal, easily jealous, less hair-trigger more berserk button, no-nonsense, quick thinking, dishonest.

fictional parallels. elijah mikaelson (the originals); geralt of rivia (the witcher); henry winter (the secret history); pope cody (animal kingdom); richie gecko (fdtd the series).

○ born into the winthorpe family; known for their successful generational family law practice, as councilmen from neighboring townships, and good for nothin' criminals who latched onto the teat of a community that's long-since given up on them like leaches─depending on what side of miriam's well it is you live in. ashley's particular branch is the former. estate house in rosebush hill drive, debutant turned matron belle mother who just can't seem to find her way around or out of other people's business (including, if not almost invariably, that of all three of her children), and a certain amount of respectability he was brought up to live by.

○ on the surface ashley winthorpe is a deliciously handsome man. wealthy and put together. takes pride in his appearance and family name. he's also well-mannered and polite, and thoughtful in such infinitesimal ways that you never really think much of until after the fact. and there is something so very not right about him. he has a kind smile that never quite reaches the edges of his eyes and though it doesn't necessarily look disingenuous, there's something about it that doesn't exactly leave you with a sense of ease. like an unfamiliar gesture that's been practiced over and over, so many times that it's lost meaning. like it takes the muscles in his face a moment to pull before they settle in the correct spots. he'll have a conversation with you and while at times it seems he's looking right through you, others will have his attention so intensely undivided it feels as if you've been bared naked and left in a cold room. like you've just been caught lying about something and he knows. somehow, he's known all along. because he listens intently when you speak to him and you suspect somehow he never forgets a single thing he's heard.

○ there's no mistaking his booming voice, jarring, even at a whisper sending shockwaves through your core that has you on high alert. even when it's soft and lulling (in an attempt to offer comfort or catching him melt into the woman he's declared the love of his goddamn life from the corner of your eye through the crack in his office door), there's something threatening that looms. less like hard blunt force and more like a living, breathing fog that blankets you with strong arms, settles deep into your gut, coils itself around your innards, and wrings you dry. the confusing part? you know, without a doubt, he would protect you with no hesitation and ask for nothing in return. and, most of the time, you'd be right. because ashley winthorpe is a good man. no matter how your instincts thrash, screaming at you otherwise.

plot hooks.

i apologize, some of these are all very specific to a singular plot and i could've just included them in a legit request 😬🙃

○ sandbox love never dies. a very specific and imperfect friend group cast in the roles of bastard, bleeding heart, damaged, golden, grim, ingénue, temptress, and wild card. they've been together since any of them can remember. spent their whole lives dreaming about trying to get out of miriam's well, but instead only found tragedies that bind them to each other. tragedies, usually, of their own making. you'll be able to read a little more about these characters in the sandbox love request, which i promise is coming!! there is a doc in the works with more information + a plot server, so expect to be part of those things if you take one of these babes!

○ his secretary. in the past he's helped her out with something legally and she's kind of in his debt, though he insists time and time again she owes him nothing of the sort. i figured it'd be something along the lines of strong holding an ex-boyfriend or husband who wouldn't leave her alone (making her miserable, or something like refusing to pay child support he'd been ordered to pay, dragging her name through the mud, etc. general nuisances to nip in the bud/bad behavior in need of correcting before they became worse as they usually do. you get the idea), because that's notoriously right up his alley. likely using non-legal means to get there; intimidation is sort of his thing. and while he may not be the type of boss or co-worker who meets you for drinks after you clock out, he does have an affection for every single one of his employees and seeing as how she works with him the most, she'd be near the top of that list. maybe she was intimidated by him in the beginning and now she knows he's not everything he appears to be. and they have an understanding.

○ the weight of his guilt. [cw: murder. this will come much later in the plot!] the winthorpes are a family on two very extremes of a type of people. [the bastard] is his cousin on his father's side, a wayward little sister who got knocked up by someone unbefitting of the family and then marrying someone worse by their standards when the father got himself put away over an affair or something just as unbecoming. ashley was always raised closely with [the bastard], his father's hope to sway the boy of many wasted talents to the right side of the family, to make something of himself. but he's a product of his lineage. and only ever finds situations for ash to get him out of. eventually, [the bastard] who he will murder, cold and bloody and bury at the base of an old oak tree will disappear. and ashley's guilt will cause him to reach out. as far as anyone knew, they were the best of friends. always together (even if that relationship was practically handwrought by his father, and he had little-to-no patience for his cousin's antics). it'll be only natural that he come by every now and again to check on them, show care, help fix up things around the house that [the bastard] would have if he were still around. because it'll ultimately be ash's fault he's gone. partially. [the bastard] will deserve what he gets and no one who'll know will be able to convince him anything otherwise, but his family didn't deserve the fallout that came after. maybe a parent or sibling or someone [the bastard] claimed to love while making his way through the female population of miriam's well.

○ the other two winthrope children. they're expected to be upstanding citizens to combat the trash reputation the other winthrope side creates. father is one of a long line of lawyers (with a main practice just outside of town, ashley's secondary office in mw because he prefers it here) and mother is a homemaker whose extracurriculars might as well be solid, paying jobs. they have three children together; ashley (being the oldest son), a daughter magnolia (and the only girl -- taken by sage), and the youngest son, credence (who is very likely expected to join the family business, like ashley). i don't expect anyone to make the parents even though that would be incredible? but they all still have rooms at their home in rosebush hill drive to use at their leisure. it wouldn't at all be out of the question that some of the children still live there -- especially the daughter if she's unwed. they're very old fashioned southern that way. they do these big family events where everyone is expected to participate, go on vacations and holidays together, and church on sundays regardless of your personal beliefs on the matter (that you had very well better keep to yourself if they don't align, ashley has learned). their grandfather also lives in the family house after losing grandma a few years back.

[inrainprose]

Fic tidbit if interested, so I always thought it'd be an interesting headcanon if Naruto grew up in/near the flower district and was raised/befriended by those ladies of the night. They get looked down upon for their profession he gets treated like shit, etc they have comraderie. And it was through that association that he learnt/developed sexy no jutsu. Like srsly where else does a 10yr old come up with that sort of modelling? Doesn't even find porn until meeting Jiraiya. Look and learn mb?

Never gave it much thoughts, but here we go now haha.

cross-posted on ao3

Red Flower, Strong Heart

“Tell me again what happened exactly.”

“He jumped me for no reason, that’s what happened!”

Iruka winced at the loud, angry tone, and by his side Naruto flinched too. But he said nothing.

“Naruto,” the Sandaime urged gently, “is that true?”

The boy only shrugged, looking sideways. His face was scrunched up in a sulking frown, and he had been stubbornly silent ever since the shopkeeper had dragged him all the way to the Hokage office to plead his case. The man’s chin was red and puffy and still sported specks or dry blood – small as he was, Naruto had elected to jump up straight toward the man’s face, crushing the man’s chin with the top of his head. He had bitten his cheeks hard – his teeth were read when they flashed as he spoke.

“Why did you do it?” the Hokage asked again, to no avail. Naruto refused to answer. “If you won’t explain…”

The threat hung in the air – if he didn’t try to defend himself, they would take the man’s words as the truth and punish the boy accordingly. Iruka had stumbled upon the scene purely by chance, and he was glad he would be here to soften the blow as best as he could, but still, this was pretty serious.

“Naruto, why don’t you tell us what happened?” he tried, puzzled by the boy’s reluctance.

“He doesn’t want to get us into trouble.”

They turned to see two women strolling in, one barely older than Iruka, looking shyly down at the ground and backing up the older one, who was closer to her fifties and stood proud in front of them. He didn’t know them, but he recognized them all the same – the flashy colors of their tight kimono, wrapped low on their shoulders, their outrageous makeup and intricate hairstyle.

No doubt coming straight from the Red Flower District.

“Why’d you come?” Naruto exclaimed, displeased. The older woman ignored him, but when she stepped in, she came to stand at his side and rested a light hand on his shoulder.

“Naruto only came to Himitsu’s defense,” she said, pointing at the younger girl. “But it was her mistake for being out in the shopping district in the first place. Please don’t put the blame on him.”

Both women bowed deeply, graceful. An elegance lessened by the vast expanse of exposed skin displayed by their clothes. The oldest had crimson chrysanthemum printed on her kimono, the symbol of their cast.

One of their matriarchs then.

“Defend you from what?” Iruka asked, unable to hold his tongue and unwilling to let this go. Naruto was turbulent and aggressive at times, but it was rarely devoid of meaning or reasons.

The woman pinched her lips, cast a sideways glance at the shopkeeper who huffed, disdainful.

“She had no business being here at this hour,” he defended. “I was in my right to tell off that b…”

Displaying a speed that was very commanding for his age, Naruto zoomed past Iruka in a second and kicked the man in the leg as hard as he could. He aimed well too, straight on the bone. The man howled.

“Don’t insult my friends!” the boy yelled, furious.

“You little…”

“That’s enough!”

The Hokage’s firm voice cut through the altercation, stopped the man with a hand raised midair and Naruto bracing up for the blow, fully intending for it to land.

“It’s not your place to police anyone’s whereabouts,” the old man said to the shopkeeper. “This is what the actual police is for. And you should know better than to wander in such ways,” he added to the two women. The man swallowed his indignation with great difficulties – the women remained impassible.

“As for you, Naruto. You don’t get to hit people like this, under any circumstances.”

The boy had the gale to snort.

“I’ll hit anyone being mean to the girls,” he declared defiantly, with a hard gaze at the shopkeeper, who was more than twice his size and looking more pissed off by the second.

The Sandaime sighed, weary.

“The matter is closed, you’re all dismissed.”

“But…!”

A cold glance was enough to keep the man silent when he was about to protest. He spun around with a dramatic flurry and left the room without another word. A little stunned, Iruka turned to Naruto, ready to walk him out too, but the boy wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Come on, Naruto,” the older woman said, hard face broken into a gentle smile as she took the boy’s hand. “We’ll take you home.”

“Okay!”

He seemed unfazed by the whole thing. Being scolded by the Hokage himself had worked for a while, but he seemed immune now.

Mostly though, he probably just felt justified in his actions, and in such cases no reprimand could have any impact on him. He had gotten into plenty of fights, and he was never apologetic about defending himself or others against words and punches. Iruka supposed injunction against violence ought to be pretty useless when one, the kids were taught to fight at school, and two, none of them bothered to hold back either.

Iruka watched the two women walk out with Naruto, wondering when that had happened, what he was seeing there exactly and what he was supposed to think of it. Feeling utterly useless, he followed in silence.

.

“That shitty fucker, I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Natsuko! Mind your words in front of the kid!”

Naruto giggled as Himitsu tried to wrap her hands around his head to shelter his ears, but he kept wiggling around so that she couldn’t get a good hold. Natsuko waved her hand as if to sweep the words away.

“You should have kicked him in the balls, Naruto.”

“Natsuko!”

Naruto laughed again and popped another dango into his mouth. The sun was yet to set, so the girls weren’t at work, and they could hang outside the inn and eat the lunch’s leftovers. The others were scattered around too, talking and relaxing before they would have to go change and prepare themselves for the night.

He couldn’t pretend to understand what work they did exactly, but he knew that people looked down on them for it, and yet those same people they came to visit the Red Flower District, nights after nights. Naruto wasn’t allowed to stay out past dinnertime. The girls made sure he went back to his apartment just a few streets away and went to sleep at a reasonable hour – usually one of them who was off duty would accompany him. Sometimes they helped to tidy up his place and wash his clothes.

He didn’t get why people were so mean to them. But then again, he didn’t get why people were mean to him either – it was just… one of those things.

“You’re right, Himitsu, a kick in the balls is effective, but it’s not very subtle. You need to learn something else, Naruto. Something that will knock down most men instantly.”

“Really?” he perked up. If there was such a thing, he was very interested. He was small and weak for his age, and often wanted to fight with people who were older and stronger. Having a winning trick up his sleeve wouldn’t hurt.

“Natsuko, really…” Himitsu pleaded, although there was the barest hint of amusement on her face, despite the bruise darkening under her eye where the man had hit her earlier. Naruto greeted his teeth.

“Please teach me!” he said, earnest. He needed to learn. He needed to know how to deal with those bullies.

How to protect the girls, who were so nice and smelled so sweet, who gave him food and had taught him how to read, who were never turned him away. He wouldn’t let them get hurt.

Natsuko grinned.

“Alright, here’s what you’re going to do.”

.

Iruka heard the commotion before he spotted Naruto running down the streets, dirty brushes in hand and a delighted grin on his face. A few steps behind him a man was giving chase, clothes and hands smeared with paint, shouting threats.

Just when Iruka was about to step in, Naruto spun around to face the man and joined his hands into a seal.

“Sexy no Jutsu!”

In a puff of smoke, the eight-year-old boy was replaced by a tall, blonde and completely naked young woman, bearing striking resemblance both to Naruto and to the young girl from that time in the Hokage’s office.

The man stopped dead in his track, stumbled on nothing and crashed on the ground, at Naruto’s feet. The girl laughed, pleased, and stuck her tongue at the man, before changing back and running away.

“Suck it, you pervert!”

By the time his pursuer could get back on his feet, Naruto was long gone.

It was probably bad of him, as a teacher and an adult, that the only thing he could think of was that at least Naruto had managed to learn a jutsu properly at last. And even a useful one, quite tragically.

As for Naruto’s dubious frequentations, Iruka would feel like the worse hypocrite begrudging the boy the few scraps of support and companionship he had managed to find for himself, no matter how unorthodox.

All in all, he decided the matter was best forgotten entirely.

And that he ought to thank those women, maybe.

[starlit-meloncholia]

Okay, I am sick of this shit. Every time I turn around people are saying it's not mental illness. It is 100% about mental illness. And no, that does not mean that it's not about guns (it is) or that all mentally ill people are dangerous (they aren't). Everyone is locking themselves into these false dichotomies where it's either the access to guns OR something else, it's the poor mental health care OR something else, it's the violent subculture OR something else. Spoiler alert: our problems do not exist in a vacuum, it's all three. Mental illness influenced by violent subculture creates a dangerous situation which is exacerbated by the presence and ease of access to weapons. All three of these issues need to be dealt with before we see these shootings stop. Mental illness is the cause, that is violently focused by the subculture, and made possible by the weapon.

tl;dr: You should read this, but basically these events are the result of multiple problems with the way our country thinks and operates.

Lets start with the most obvious: Gun control. Now, as the child of two military veterans, I support gun ownership for purposes of self-defense and hunting. A fully automatic combat rifle is NOT a hunting weapon, nor is it made for self-defense. It is an aggressor's weapon. It is made to kill humans, a lot of humans, in as small a time as possible. Now, we aren't ever going to ban guns or get them off the street. There will always be Granddad's AK floating around in the hands of someone who needs money, and it's unrealistic to expect any buyback program to work. BUT, if we ban the sale of military grade weaponry and increase regulation on what's left (i.e handguns, non-automatic hunting rifles, and AT MOST shotguns), we have taken away the ease of access. We have made it harder to obtain instruments designed solely to kill. The potential death toll has dropped from thirty lives to four or five lives. Now, that is still entirely too many casualties, but that number is much better than 30. Mental health screenings and regular licensing would accomplish this, just as we do with cars. You can't get a drivers license if you're blind, and you shouldn't be able to get a gun if you suffer from certain mental illnesses.

Now, a lot of gun rights supporters like to say, "Well lets arm all the teachers!"

...

How is that going to solve the problem? Half of those teachers have never held a gun in their lives. It'd be like that scene from Pulp Fiction where the guy unloads a clip at Vince and Jules, misses every shot, and then they gun him down. Even in the best case scenario, we've already lost one person, the shooter, and realistically they would probably have time to take at least two or three people with them, more if they have an automatic weapon. Further, TEACHERS ARE NO MORE STABLE THAN MOST PEOPLE. People are more likely to act on their anger if weapons are accessible, as evidenced by the work of several psychologists, such as Berkowitz & LePage (1967) or Carlson et al. (1990). What that means, is that one day little Johnny is arguing with Mr. Smith. Insults him, insults his wife, insults his kids, insults his mother, cusses him out for fifteen minutes. Mr Smith snaps, pulls out his gun, and puts two between Johnny's eyes. Timmy and Sally start screaming, so he kills them too. He just wants them to shut the hell up so he can go on with his lesson and go home to his cold bed in a house he can't afford because his pay is shit and the governor cut his school district's funding (also a problem, but one for a different day). Jake and Susie run for the door, and he shoots them in the back. Suddenly, he realizes what he's done, and puts the gun in his mouth. Six lives have been lost, because Mr. Smith had a moment where he just couldn't take it anymore, and happened to have a gun.

Now, in this hypothetical, Mr. Smith probably would have snapped either way, but if he did not have access to a weapon, he would have possibly hit, slapped, or shouted at little Johnny, got fired or suspended and sent to forced therapy, and everyone would still be alive.

Someone once told me that all schools should have an armed police officer, and that would solve the problem. To which I reply: You're naïve. First of all, the police officer is probably doing more harm than good. A couple of kids will get into a schoolyard fight, and Mr. Officer will arrest them both and send them both off to juvee for battery and assault. Secondly, let's look at this from the shooter's point of view. Let's say that I'm a to-be school shooter. I GO TO THIS SCHOOL. I WILL KNOW THERE IS A SCHOOL RESOURCE OFFICER. I'M GOING TO AMBUSH HIM, KILL HIM FIRST, AND TAKE HIS WEAPON, TASER, AND RADIO. All you've done is given me a first target. You have not prevented the crisis at all, and have only put adult laws into a child's life. You have done more harm than good.

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Now let's look at mental illness. MOST SCHOOL SHOOTERS ARE MENTALLY DISTURBED. Most school shooters are bullied, mentally unstable, and present multiple signs well in advance that they're considering something drastic. Take for example the Columbine shooters, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. Prior to the shooting, they were bullied, and turned in multiple creative writing assignments alluding to what they would do, as well as a school project video focused on them acting out a school shooting. This does NOT excuse their actions, whatsoever, but it is a reason behind their actions and we must know WHY they happen so we can know HOW to stop them. People like to say, "Oh well I was bullied and I never killed people!" or "I have a mental illness and I've never wanted to shoot my classmates!" Or something to that effect. To which I say: Good for you, but this isn't about you. Your experience does not cancel out another's experience, and if you truly think that your behavior and reaction is the baseline for all behavior and all reactions, you're quite frankly a conceited idiot who lacks empathy and a true understanding that other people exist. Building off the previous example of the Columbine shooters, if someone had noticed these warning signs and had provided mental health care to these two, up to and including hospitalization, there is a very good chance that fifteen people would be alive right now.

I've heard people say, "School shooters don't deserve help. They were monsters." Ignoring the obvious black-and-white morality (you did something bad so therefore you are a monster), I will go ahead and say: You're right. Mass shooters have done a truly monstrous thing for which they cannot and should not be forgiven. But, I'm not talking about helping school shooters. I'm talking about helping people. I'm talking about neighbors, children, human beings. They have not done anything yet. They feel hopeless and want someone understand what they feel, or they feel isolated and just want people to pay attention. Before the school shooter is a school shooter, they're a person. Granted, not every mass shooter is someone like this; some people are racists, or extremeists, or just plain sadistic; for them we can blame poor gun control and violent subculture, but most people aren't. Once the crime is committed, it's too late to help. There are warning signs to every shooting, and every time we look at it on the news and say "Oh, well hindsight is 20/20, there's nothing we could have done, if only this could have been prevented, oh hey look another shooting." Speaking of, this makes for an excellent segway into my next point.

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It's a well-known fact that most school shooters are white males. If anyone tells you otherwise, they're probably racists or misogynists in denial. Has anyone wondered why that is? Don't bother, I'll tell you why. It's the media coverage, and the way we raise our boys.

When a member of a minority is on the news, they're a thug, a criminal, a terrorist. This is true even if they're the victim. But when white males do something that by all rights is terrorism, such as school shootings or an armed takeover of a federal government building (if you don't remember that, look up Ammon Bundy), they're "sweet children from a broken home" or "misguided patriots." Do you know how attractive that is to someone who has poor self esteem? These people are broken inside, they just want to be loved and acknowledged, and on the news some kid across the country brutally murders twenty people and gets called a "sweet, intelligent child from a broken home." This tells them, hey! If I kill a lot of people, everyone will know about me and remember me and they'll know how much I'm hurting. Minorities, on the other hand, know that they'll be demonized and their actions will make life in America worse for their entire culture. I don't have a source for this statistic, but I'm willing to bet it can be proved by observation: A school shooting WILL occur within 2-8 weeks of one being publicized on the news. Now, this may be correalational, and I can't think of an ethical experiment to prove it as fact, but either way it's a pretty damning coincidence.

"But wait, why is it only white males then and not just white people? Ah hah, a hole in your theory! You're racist against white people and a misandrist and wrong about everything!" (Typical tumblr bullshit)

Actually, I can explain that as well. Males are raised in a toxic and violent subculture in America. Men are taught unhealthy coping skills from a young age, and are taught that their actions have no negative consequences, just like with rape culture. Women are taught from early on that they are always at fault, it isn't the circumstances, it is them. They got attacked because they looked easy, nevermind the man who attacked her having no self control. It's not his fault she looked appealing. A white female school shooter probably wouldn't be called a terrorist, true, but she probably would not be placed on a pedestal as a poor child who did not know any better. More likely, the media would attack her for overreacting, and for weakness in the face of adversity. Also, women are raised in a more emotionally healthy way. Whoever first said that men should not cry or express emotion should be dug up, resurrected, and shot. In repressing emotion and failing to entrust our feelings with others and seek out care, those feelings of sadness and loneliness build and swirl as they become more and more toxic. Then, these males surround themselves with people of like-mind, and caught in an echo box of hatred turn around and do something drastic and violent, because deep down they know they won't be blamed for it so therefore they must be right.

On a related side note, I believe this explains the presence of gangs and large terrorist groups such as the KKK; they reach out to and recruit people suffering from these maelstroms of emotion, and then focus and shape it into hatred, reinforced by the love and care they provide their own members. These members then grow up and teach these beliefs to their children, who may or may not just accept it as the truth of the world. It doesn't hurt that, like with most things, white supremacy is excused as nationalism and commitment to one's race instead of the ugly genocidal belief it really is.

In conclusion, NOTHING will change until we as a country stop trying to focus on this as the result of only one cause, and instead tackle this problem, united, against all possible causes of this. Because no child should be afraid to go to school, and no one should have to live in fear that their life may be taken as if it was worthless. Because we should be better than this.

So Hot Take

Since women are 40% more likely to develop mental illness than men but 98% of mass shooters are men and 100% of them had a gun maybe

It’s not about mental illness. 

Maybe it’s about, I dunno, something else.