#and partially cause I don’t know how to manage having like more than maybe two or three friends at a time

[fir3ylolol]

double feature

pairing: Present!Johnny Cage x Younger!Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: you decide to take a night off from working at the special forces, ending up catching the attention of two men. well, technically one man. what happens when they turn their sights on you?

tw: threesome, vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, a touch of eating out, face fucking, choking, double penetration, little bit of biting, dirty talk, overstimulation, cumming in you, cumming on you, afab!reader, NOW gn pronouns dom/sub adjacent, sub!reader, gentle dom!johnny, rough dom!johnny, you KNOW they're whining, mentions of drinking/partying, so much attention, TWO BIG MEN OBSESSED WITH YOU WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED, smut, shameless smut, porn with little plot

a/n: i've never written anything with more than one partner before, so i hope it's good. also, sorry if the names get a little confusing, i didn't want to say "younger Johnny" and "older Johnny" 200000x, it was getting annoying lol

word count: 2.53 k

Ao3

You weren’t entirely sure how you ended up here, with both Johnnys staring at you hungrily. Maybe it was the party that had been going on tonight, members of the Special Forces were taking the night off before the big invasion. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had a night off in forever and wanted to wear the new dress you’d bought. Maybe it was the fact you forgot you were around your coworkers. Or maybe, it was Johnny, the younger one. Christ, he would flirt with a chair if it had ‘nice curves’. But that didn’t make his attention less appealing, lingering eyes along your frame as he walked through the crowded room to you. Sliding next to you at the bar, he looked at you with a cocky smirk, speaking over the loud music, “Didn’t expect to see you here, sweet thing. Figured you were too tight-laced for this scene.” Looking out of the corner of your eye and smiling, you yell out, “All you know about me is what my ass looks like.”

Putting his arms up in a ‘guilty’ motion, he lets them drop and leans in to whisper in your ear. “Hey, you wanna come with me to the booth over there? A lot more comfortable and quieter.” Nodding lightly, you grab your purse and stand up. He stands with you, lightly taking your free hand and weaving you through the crowd behind him. You reach a booth quickly, noticing that there’s only one other person there: older Johnny. You partially freeze, realizing you’re now trapped with a playboy and an actual coworker. But you continue, sitting down in the semi-circle booth first. As you settle in, young Johnny behind you, you try to lighten the mood slightly.

“So, what am I supposed to call you guys? I mean, you’re both Johnnys, and I don’t want confusion.” Younger Johnny wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaning in close, “You can call me whatever you want, sexy.” Slightly bothered by his actions, older Johnny smacks his arm lightly, causing him to loosen his grip on you. “You can just call me John. He can be Johnny.” Johnny leans back, shrugging as he looks away from you. “Fine by me. But you still haven’t told me why you decided to grace us with your presence.” Pausing to think, you look between the two of them as you answer. “Well…I needed a break and I figured, why not?” Johnny decides that he wants to be closer again, resting his head on his arm, as he speaks, “Lucky us. Aren’t we lucky, John?” Expecting another smack, you turn to look at John, as he leans back and looks you up and down, finally speaking again, “Yeah, it seems like it. I’ve never seen you in civilian clothes before.”

You’re a bit embarrassed now, four eyes locked on you as you stutter out, “W-Well, I don’t have many chances to. Besides, this is new.” Johnny’s eyes light up as he leans in further. “Ah, I get it. There’s someone here you wanted to impress. Hoping to go home with some company, eh?” Now John reacts, brows furrowed as he leans into Johnny’s face, “Come on man, do you have to be so crass?” Johnny laughs at him lightly, managing to say, “You were thinking it too, I know you were! Like I haven’t noticed you staring just as much as me!” John rolls his eyes and scoffs at him, moving to stand up. “I don’t have to take this, you know. I’m just gonna leave,” he says as he stands.

Unable to even control yourself, you dive out, grabbing his wrist. Surprised, he turns around to see you looking up at him. He quickly looks at Johnny, and they both raise their eyebrows at your actions. John sits back down but scoots closer to you. You’re now sandwiched in between them, nerves radiating off of you. John brushes some hair off your shoulder, speaking softly, “What was that about, hm? Why do you want me to stay?” Johnny wraps an arm around your waist, whispering into your other ear, “Yeah, do you not like me or something?” You fluster at their proximity to you, their entire demeanor shifting. “I-I…uh…I dunno…I like hanging out with both of you-” Johnny cuts you off, lips against your ear as he whispers, “Both of us? How greedy.” John lets a hand drift down to squeeze your thigh, leaning to the other side of your head, “Very greedy, baby.” Your head is spinning, their touches make you forget to breathe. 

“Hey, what are you doing? A second ago, you guys were arguing.” You swallow your nerves as much as you can. John looks into your eyes, an intense stare into your own, “Just testing the waters.” Johnny smirks, starting to lightly kiss your neck as you shiver against him. He laughs against your skin, muttering out, “Feeling alright, baby? Or have I pushed too far?” Your eyelids flutter, and this attention is getting to you, “N-no…it feels nice.” Johnny continues, kissing against your collarbone and finding the sensitive spot in the crook of your neck, an abrupt whine escaping your lips. Both of them are happy with the sound, as Johnny continues kissing and sucking on the spot, and John’s hand on your thigh starts traveling in more. You tip your head onto John’s shoulder, whimpering, “This isn’t fair, doing this to me.” He lightly grabs your chin with his free hand and moves it so that your noses are touching. “Then do you want to get out of here?” Without hesitating, you nod, intoxicated from all the attention.

Suddenly, without even realizing it, you’re walking out the door, still in between them. You were so caught up in them that you were walking without thinking. All you knew was that you didn’t have any drinks, yet you lost all your inhibitions. And then you were there, in a nice apartment, in the bedroom, with two men staring at you hungrily.

John is the first to talk, still a few feet away from you. “You feeling alright? You seem kind of out of it.” You nod rapidly, managing to speak after being silent for so long, “Yeah, yes. I feel good. I was just a little spaced out. You guys are kind of… overwhelming.” Johnny closes the distance, both hands on your hips as he smiles wide, “See? I told you. Just lost in thought, thinking about what’s gonna happen, yeah?” John walks to your side, cupping your face as he leans in. His lips meet yours gently, and you melt into it, the delicious feeling flooding your senses. It’s cut off by a very loud whine from Johnny, clearly jealous of the lack of attention. As you turn towards him, he kisses you hard, a hand rushing to the back of your head to add to the intensity. It was strange, you knew they were the same, but they felt so different. Johnny tasted like bubblegum chapstick and smelled like expensive cologne, while John tasted like whiskey and smelled like fresh laundry.

Johnny’s kiss only lasts so long though, as both men start feeling at you. Johnny’s hands travel towards your chest as John’s calloused fingers dance down your legs. They lead you to sit on the bed behind you, Johnny starting to pull your dress over your head. You raise your arms to let him, forgetting embarrassment as you sit practically naked in front of them. Johnny smiles down at you, hand tugging lightly at your hair. “Can you help me feel good, baby?” You immediately understand, biting your lip and nodding as he undoes his pants. His cock springs out, free from the confinement of his jeans. You lick at the head, a hiss escaping his lips. But he’s impatient, lightly pushing your head down. You oblige, taking as much of him as you can before gagging. Suddenly, you feel John’s hands guiding you to go on all fours. But you focus on Johnny, letting him fuck your mouth.

You feel those familiar fingers pushing your soaking underwear to the side and a warm tongue connecting with your pussy. Moaning against Johnny’s length, he whines out in response, hips bucking and gripping your hair tighter as he goes further down your throat. “Shittt, keep moaning around my cock like that, you sound so good.” And moan you do, as John eats you out, tongue dancing against your clit in a maddening way. It doesn’t take very long before you feel your underwear being pulled down, John’s thick cock rubbing against your hole in the most teasing way. Slowly, he pushes in, the feeling of both men filling you up drawing another moan out of you. You hear them both moan, John grabbing your hips to stabilize himself. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Wrapping around my cock like that, it’s not fair.” Johnny speeds up, relishing in the tears prickling in your eyes, “Yeah? Do you like that? You like being fucked like this, huh? God, you’re so fucking hot like this.” He is fucking your mouth with almost no pause, while John is gentle, hips moving at half the speed but reaching deep enough to hit your cervix every time.

There’s something rough to both of them, the way they use you, yet gentle, and wanting, and it drives you crazy. You arch your back a little more, a deep groan coming from John, as well as looking directly into Johnny’s eyes. He meets them with an expression you can only describe as needy as he smiles down at you and wipes your tears away with his thumb. Before you can blink, his shirt is off, his muscles and tattoos a delicious sight. But you can’t focus on it for long as John leans forward, regaining control of the moment. You can feel his warm chest against your back and you can’t help but wonder if he still has the tattoo, as his hand wraps lightly around your throat. “You’re doing so good, baby, taking us so good like this. You look so pretty like this, fucked out just for us.” Johnny is unraveling more at how tight your throat is around him, only able to clutch onto your head desperately and whimper out.

It’s only a couple more seconds until he’s gone, cumming loudly down your throat with a loud whine, which finally lets you get a deep breath in. You sputter slightly, leaning down so you’re head is against the bed. John sits back up, a string of obscenities falling from his lips, “Shit, look what you’re doing to me. Thought you couldn’t get better, but I was fuckin’ wrong. Wish I knew earlier how good you look taking dick, yeah?” Johnny sits on the edge of the bed, catching his breath, but doesn’t waste the opportunity to remove the last bit of your, and his, clothing. You look up at him from the mattress, half-lidded and cockdrunk. 

And how can he resist that? He lifts your head with one hand, kissing your lips with a much more tender roughness than before. His other hand reaches down to toy with your clit, smiling as you jump at the feeling. “Feels good, right? I’ll make you feel so good.” You’re losing it now, legs wobbling as you get closer and closer to cumming. John grabs your hair tight, pulling slightly to tilt your head up, “Wanna see that pretty face as you cum.” That’s the final straw as you cum hard around John, loud moans as you tremble beneath him. He only lasts a few more seconds, loud and whiny seconds until he pulls out, cum shooting across your back. Johnny stands up next to him, both looking down at you as you pant heavily. “It’s like art really,” Johnny breathes out. John snorts slightly, “Yeah, a real Pollock.” He kneels to look in your eyes. “You feeling okay love? You wanna rest?” You manage to shake your head, pushing out, “More, please.”

Suddenly, you’re being lifted, strong arms around your waist, as Johnny lays on the bed where you just were. You feel a few light kisses against your shoulder as you’re set down, another pair of large hands grabbing at your ass. Johnny pulls you in for another kiss, as John wipes your back off. Johnny is getting handsy, touch traveling up and down the length of your body. “My turn,” he says with a smirk, one of his hands reaches behind your legs to grab his cock and sinks into you. He clutches you with a whimper, still as he adjusts to the feeling. “Ah- Damn, you feel so good, so fucking wet for me, yeah?” He starts moving again, gripping your ass tightly as he fucks himself into you. You’re so fucked out, your hair messy, and your eyes half-open, high-pitched moans pushed from your lips. You’ve almost forgotten about John when…

You feel it, his cock gently pressing below Johnny’s, the grip on your ass being used to spread them further apart. You’ve barely got time to think before he sinks in, stretching you out to the point you’re seeing stars. Both men whine at the feeling, of movement and your walls so tight around them. You feel so full, so good, with both of their thick cocks inside you. John starts to move, thrusting against Johnny. He reaches out and grabs your throat again, much less gently than before. This is a lot for them too, as Johnny writhes under you, cries of pleasure loud compared to your much more breathy ones. But it’s not long until he starts moving too, opposite to John. When one thrusts in, the other pulls out slightly, and back and forth for what feels like forever. If you weren’t being so tightly held, you would’ve collapsed much earlier. Johnny is much closer to cumming, head pressed against the bed and eyes screwed shut. He manages to get out a whiny, “Oh fuck,” before he cums, body curling into yours and biting against your shoulder for stability. He flops against the bed, letting his spent cock pull out of you. Now with free reign of you, John speeds up, at a breakneck pace as you bounce, eyes rolled back into your head as you bounce. Johnny manages to look up slightly, taking in the sight of you, a satisfied smile on his face. John tightens his grip as he sputters out, “Shit, ‘m gonna cum,” a final stutter of his hips as you feel it, the warmth filling you.

As he finally pulls out, Johnny helps steer you to lie on the bed. Both men stand over you, watching you pant and both of their cum drip out of you. Johnny turns his head to look at John, a wide, tired smile on his face. “I told you they’d be a great fuck.” Which earns him a smack on the head from John. “I knew it, you knew it, but you couldn’t have waited a little longer before speaking, dumbass?” Defensively, Johnny’s hands go up. “C’mon, it’s a compliment!”

[valerieisunavailable]

Simon x Reader: "Who You Belong To"

Listen y'all, you know the deal. NSFW. MDNI below this point, please and thank you. 🔞

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

You were talking to a few new recruits within the hallways of the barracks. Of course, with you being a woman and a slightly higher rank than them, they started flirting with you. Pretty normal stuff, right? Or so you thought. From a glance, you could see Ghost not too far away, leaning against a wall and glaring bullets at the recruits. It wasn’t like you were flirting back with them. You just wanted to hear the clever things they could come up with while rolling your eyes in the process. But obviously, Ghost was not having it at all, which was surprising, considering how he liked to shit-talk the recruits and complain how bad they were. You didn’t figure he’d be the jealous type. You sighed, before waving the recruits along.

“Hey, I gotta get back to my duties. But it was nice talking to you three.” You said.

The recruits whined, before one of them was brave enough to ask you out for coffee.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m already taken.” You reply.

The recruits groan in disappointment, before nodding and walking off. You smile, before turning around. But to your surprise, Ghost was now behind you.

“Oh, Gh–” you tried to say, before being rudely interrupted.

“Damn right, you’re already taken.” He growled.

He then grabbed you by your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. You stared into his sapphire eyes, giving him a smirk as he grumbled to himself.

“Who do those damn recruits think they are…. Trying to toy with what’s mine..” Ghost mumbled.

Ghost then partially lifted up his mask, removing yours to give you a deep, passionate kiss. You leaned in, kissing him back and trying to explain your reasoning to him in between kisses.

“I just like–” Interrupted by another kiss.

“What they-” Another kiss.

“Come up with.” She manages to say. Ghost stops.

“I don’t care.” He says.

As the two of you stop to catch your breath, Ghost notices that the other soldiers are beginning to laugh and stare at the two of you. He groans, before looking back over at you.

“Let’s go somewhere.. more private. Yeah?” He suggests.

As you nod, you follow him back to his dorm room that’s located within the barracks. Once the two of you walk into the room, he closes and locks the door, before pulling you close once more and pushing you on top of the bed, before getting on top of you and smothering you with passionate kisses.

“Maybe it’s time for a little reminder of who you belong to.” Ghost remarks.

“Gh-” You try to say, but he puts a finger in between your lips.

“It’s Simon. Don’t you forget that, love.” He corrects.

Then, without wasting any more time, he starts slowly removing your clothing. You stare at him, almost impressed at how quickly he’s able to remove your clothes. In between this, your staring at the tattoos on his arms that make you that much more turned on. Simon seemed to have sensed this as he started flexing his muscles, and then slowly tracing his arms up and down your sides, so that you could get a better look at his arms. You glance at his arms, noticing the various skull and gun symbolled tattoos that he had all over his body.

“Take a good look, love.” He says with a smirk, continuing to flaunt his arms, tracing his hands up and down your sides, causing shivers down your spine. He then lowered his head to your thighs, before spreading your legs. He teasingly pulls your underwear down, before he stops. He’s met with a surprise. Something new. Something he hasn’t seen or noticed before. Looking down at your freshly shaven pussy was a tattoo, with Simon’s name on it. He stared almost in awe, before a grin was plastered on his face.

“What’s this, love?” He asks, gently grazing his fingers over the tattoo.

“Well, you know I’m not one for tats, but I figured that you’d like it. Besides, it isn’t that easy to find, well, unless..” your words trail off.

“My good girl did all of this for me?” He asks with a grin. You smile, giving him a nod. You know that this is about to be the best night ever for you.

Simon then lowers his head down in between your thighs, putting them up over his shoulders as he starts licking up and down your folds, causing you to immediately moan. You can feel his tongue piercing draw circles around your sensitive clit as you whimper in response. Your legs quiver as he digs his face in deeper into your pussy. You can hear slurping sounds in between his praises.

"Good girl…" He praised.

"Simon..~" You moaned, holding the back of his head as you pushed his head deeper.

"Mmm… That's right love, say my name.." he says, continuing to lick you up and down while his piercing rubbed your sensitive clit.

"Simon..~" You said once more.

"Good girl.." he praised.

But then he stopped, before looking back up with you. Your juices were dripping off of his face.

"Are you close?" He asked, seeing how quick and desperate your moans were becoming.

You nodded, spreading your legs wider.

"Please, Simon…" You begged.

Simon groaned from hearing you beg for him.

"Say it again, love…" He asked.

"Please, Simon… make me cum.." You begged.

This time, he groaned louder, his eyes almost going into his head.

"Fuck… Such a good girl girl for me.." he growled.

Simon then put two fingers up, showing them to you with a smirk. He teasingly rubbed circles around your clit with his fingers, before feeling your folds and feeling how wet you were. He smirks, before entering his two fingers inside of you. You gasp, before your body relaxes. He starts at a slow pace, before he starts thrusting his fingers at godly speeds. You let out a loud moan, almost screaming his name as your orgasm hits you.

"Oh, fuck! Simon!" You yell, gasping for air at the intensity of the orgasm.

He chuckles, watching you scream from your orgasm.

"That's what I like to hear, love." He says.

After he lets you relax for a few minutes, showering you with kisses and praise, and of course tasting those exquisite juices of yours, he groans as he stares at you. As you look at him, you can see a bold imprint of his hard cock through his gray sweatpants.

"Fuck… I need this good girl right now.." He groans.

He then removes his sweatpants and boxers, before revealing his pierced cock. You stare down at his fully erect and fully pierced cock. He stares down at you, slowly giving himself a few strokes, before growling and staring down at your body.

Simon then places the tip of his erect cock on your clit, slapping his cock against your clit as he groans. You could feel the heavy weight tapping against your sensitive clit. You gasped slightly, before feeling him press the tip against those pretty lips that were between your thighs. He groaned, already feeling how tight you were. It took all of his willpower to not just slam his entire cock into you, because it just felt *that* good.

He slowly started pushing himself inside you, inch by inch. You could feel the piercings going inside you, going alongside your walls. You gasped as he groaned.

"Fuck, you're tight.. such a perfect fit.." he moaned.

You gasped, holding onto his muscular arms as he continued going inside you inch by inch.

"Shh… You're doing so well, love… Taking me so well.." he says, groaning.

As he pushes his last inch inside of you, you can not only feel his cock inside your stomach, but you can feel the piercing on his shaft just barely hit your cervix.

"Simon…" you moan.

"That's it, love. Nice and slow.. Such a good girl for me…" he says.

It was almost too much for you, the feeling. Everytime he did this it felt like you were going to break.

"Simon…" You moaned once more.

He groaned, absolutely loving the feeling of your walls clenching around him, but he let you get used to the sensation before he started moving and thrusting against you at a slow pace. The way your body was clenching around him, and the way you were moaning his name was all enough to drive him crazy. You let out a sudden gasp, moaning as you felt him spank you as he continued thrusting at a moderate pace. His eyes glanced back down at your tattoo that had his name on it while he fucked you.

"That's right… All mine.. this pussy's all mine.." he moaned, spanking you again before moving at a faster pace. You could feel the piercing on his shaft repeatedly hitting your cervix. You moaned his name once more, continuing to hold onto his arms that hold a firm grasp on your thighs, all while they were still placed over his shoulders, allowing him deeper access.

You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm each minute as you moaned his name.

"Simon, I-I'm gonna–" you say. He groans in response.

"That's right love, cum for me. Cum for me." He says, still thrusting into you at a fast pace as he repeatedly starts spanking you. You let out a loud moan as you feel your intense orgasm. He gives a few more thrusts, before you feel the piercings on his cock exit your body. As you look up at him, you glance down to see his cum leaking out of his cock as he groans.

“Fuck…” He moans, covering his mouth slightly.

As you see his body quiver, you slowly sit up, before squeezing his balls tightly. His breath hitches as he looks down at you. More semen leaks out of his cock, dripping along his piercings.

[xxavengingangelxx]

Graves Defragged 2/?

Part two, y'all! Prepare to have your mind blown. Mine was. That is all :) Also keep in mind that this is how I see Graves based on my psych and criminology degree. You all might see and likely see him differently and that's okay! I'm guessing here. I'm not sure if what I'm speculating about Graves is correct.

Here we go! Not proofread :( I'm really, really tired tonight. Triggers for mentions of non-con and torture.

Item 11: Promiscuous sexual behavior = 1

C’mon, Graves is full of himself and narcissistic. He can have anyone he wants. I am hesitant to even give this a 1 given we have no idea what his sex life is like but I’m familiar with men who have similar personalities and they definitely bed whoever they want. Now, I happen to write Graves as heterosexual because that’s just how my mind created him (a lot of the story in Long Way from Home and Somewhere Only We Know were taken from some old stories I wrote where Warren Kole played a sheriff who was also a serial killer). But I sure as hell love reading him in all types of relationships!! 😉

Look at that man and tell me he and his men don’t get around they can’t get who they want. Sexy af.

Image credit: Call of Duty Wiki

There is a good (but dark) fic written on Ao3 that involves Graves non-conning a female citizen who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Given the picture I have of Graves in my mind (he’s a monster!) I wouldn’t put it past him. But that's my point of view. Remember my version of Graves is dark, hence the warnings on my darker fics!

And KEEP…IN…MIND…his Shadows or most of his Shadows have no issues with war crimes. There’s NO TELLING what his Shadows did to female citizens in the homes they invaded. ☹ They’re nameless and faceless which is part of what makes them so terrifying (they’re also huge, okay? Maybe in more ways than one).

Item 12: Early behavior problems = 1

This is another tough one. We don’t really know anything about his childhood. But based on what we have seen with Graves I wouldn’t doubt he at least had issues managing his anger when he was a child/teen. His lack of morality might suggest that it’s something he’s had his whole life. A lack of fear, common in psychopaths, can also lead to early behavior problems because a psychopath’s limbic system is malfunctioning. It’s not built right. This in turn causes a lot of psychopaths to have no fear. No fear or acknowledgement of danger and certainly no fear of punishments.

This is similar to what we talked about above in the sections about lack of remorse and empathy. It’s NOT that Graves feels fear and ignores it. He cannot feel fear. His brain is not wired for it.

So let’s say you’re captive with Graves. Swinging at him doesn’t work, threatening doesn’t work, and actually hitting him only gets him to hit you back hard enough for you to at least lose partial consiousness or balance. If Graves is not afraid of you, not afraid of the repercusions of taking you, what the hell can you do to at least somewhat control his behavior so he at least shows more stable mood and hurts you less?

Positive reinforcement. Rewards. Psychopaths respond to rewards. Positive reinforcement means adding a desired stimulus. OC figured this out in one of my longer fics (although subconsciously) and gave  in to sleeping with Graves. As OC became more and more compliant, Graves’s behavior became less unpredictable and less violent. If she were to act out again in the future, however, he wouldn't hesitate to at least smack OC maybe even in front of their son.

Positive reinforcement, guys and gals! Give Graves little tidbits of obedience and information. You’ll be playing him and he won’t even know it. But Graves is hella good at figuring out hidden agendas/intentions. So when he does (no, not if, when) find out, he’s gonna hurt you.

Negative reinforcement is the removal of an undesirable stimulus. This works with psychopaths but not in the way positive reinforcement does. So you can stop hitting him and calling him names but it won’t work as good as you providing Graves with positive reinforcement.

Remember Graves responds to money! That is a positive reinforcer.

Item 13: Lack of realistic, long-term goals = 0

Here we have another one that does not apply to Graves. Graves shed his Marine skin with a goal in mind. It might have sounded unrealistic but Graves pulled it off. He’s a billionaire with a PMC staffed with some of the most dangerous men on Earth.

Item 14: Impulsivity = 0

We touched in this earlier when we talked about behavior controls. Graves is meticulous, thorough, detailed, and precise. The big decisions are made with painstaking order/detail. We have talked about (and we can see) that Graves might have issues controlling his actions when he is angry. Piss him off enough and he’ll smack you (Whether you are male or female! Remember he was almost giddy when he was about to torture Valeria, a woman), I can almost guarantee it. At the very least. Piss him off enough enough and he’ll put you on the floor. Piss him off beyond that, you might have to spend a few nights in a hospital.

But Graves is certainly not impulsive when it comes to big decisions. He didn’t get to be a billionaire in charge of his own PMC with contracts left and right by making a habit of being impulsive with important decisions.

Item 15: Irresponsbility = 0

At least in my eyes! You don’t get to be where Graves is, as successful as he is being irresponsible. A business as successful as his is not one built on impulsivity nor irresponsibility.

In relation to this, I’m willing to be a whole paycheck of mine that Graves vets his men better than the FBI.

Image credit: Call of Duty Wiki

These men are so loyal they died for Graves without so much as a second thought while in Las Almas. Remember that I also touched on the fact that their loyalty for Graves goes past humanity and morality. I tried to illustrate this in a fic where Graves’s men have no issue torturing a female POW.

Look at that they did in Las Almas! They murdered citizens to include women and children. And like I mentioned before, there’s no telling what those men did when they invaded those homes before they killed their victims.

Graves didn’t like the limitations of the Marines. So why would he pick men with those moral limitations? Answer is he wouldn’t. He’d pick men who would do whatever he ordered them to do to whomever he wanted it done to. The only way I could see Graves maybe having some men with some morality is for SAR or search and rescue missions. He certainly does not want his ethically untoward men rescuing someone only to victmize said rescue subject on the ride back to the US.

Yikes.

Item 16: Failure to accept responsibility for own actions = 2

Graves is a pro at this, ain’t he? Remember the missle crisis he was indirectly responsible for? Instead of admitting it a whole clusterfuck of consequences cascaded because Graves and Shepherd tried to cover up what they’d done wrong.

Remember Congress? When Graves said he did not put 141 in danger? But you did, Graves (don’t tell him that…he might try to swing at you)! Your men shot first. Now, yes, Alejandro lunged at Graves. But nonlethal force should be met with nonlethal force. Graves’s men are loyal to a fault. When someone so much as steps too close to their commander, they shoot to kill.

And of course Las Almas! Those were hardcore war crimes being committed. And like I’ve mentioned before, I wouldn’t doubt that Graves’s men took a few liberties with individuals they found attractive in the homes they invaded. Not everyone might see it like that but remember the actions in Las Almas were meant to intimidate.

Image credit: Dan Allen Gaming on YouTube

And in some of the fics I’ve written where Graves victimizes OC, Graves blames OC for the torture she suffered, telling her that if she had just given him what he wanted to begin with (homing beacon codes to find 141) she wouldn’t have suffered at all. That’d she’d have no scars on her body and no mental trauma from what was done to her. He ordered his men to carry all that out and he watched it happen but OC, the victim, is responsible. According to Graves.

I think a lot of people really underestimate how dangerous and cruel Graves’s men can be. And yet, we Graves/Shadow Company fans have a certain affection for them 😉 Because to be honest, with all the shady stuff they do, who knows how many times they’ve saved the world. All without getting thanked for it.

Image credit: Shadow Siege Limited on Blizzard Entertainment

Item 17: Many short-term marital relationships = 0

We have no proof Graves has ever been married. It would be somewhat reasonable to conclude that Graves could be involved with quite a few sexual partners. But for marriage…we have absolutely no idea!

Item 18: Juvenile delinquency = 0

And let me tell you why. Graves was in the Marines and some positions in the Marines require a top secret security clearance. Graves’s involvement in military contracts certainly requires a top secret clearance and perhaps maybe a SCIF clearance. You cannot have any significant juvenile delinquency and be trusted with one of these.

Item 19: Revocation of conditional release = 0

None. He hasn’t been arrested (see above for my reasoning for no juvenile arrests). And if he was, I’d be willing to bet some highups in the military, CIA, and NSA would make his charges disappear.

Item 20: Criminal versitality = 2

Oh boy, if there was one item that described Graves it would be this one! This refers to the variety of criminal activity Graves is involved in. Well, we know he’s involved in some shady contracts that involve taking lives. He’s a mercenary after all. Technically, what Graves is doing, killing people for money, is illegal. Essentially invading another country and wiping a town off the map is highly illegal. Shooting to kill at 141/SAS is illegal! So not only is he involved in several types of crime but he is involved in crimes across countries, across the world.

With the money he makes, he hires nameless, faceless men with no moral compass who will then do whatever twisted deeds he tells them to and more. He also buys weapons intended to take lives for money, which is, of course, illegal.

Phew! So what does Graves score on the Psychopath Checklist?

A mere 20! The requirement for psychopathy in the US is 30 and in the UK 25.

According to Canadian psychologist Robert Hare’s research (and he’s done a lot) Graves does not quite rise to the level of psychopath. However, remember that we have very limited information. We essentially have no information about Graves’s childhood or early adulthood other than he enlisted in the Marines. With more information, his score could have gone up, remained the same, but it would not have gone down.

You’re probably like: ummmm…WTF?

And I’m with you! :D I fully expected for him to at least meet the cutoff! These posts I make are discoveries I’m making with you. I had no idea he would score so low!

Is Graves a questionable human being? You bet! Would you jump for joy if he showed interest in you (we all would haha)? But for real, he’s dangerous, he’s callous, and he can be really cruel. Just because he does not rise to the level of psychopathy does not mean he lacks remorse or lacks empathy. Those are still very real things that are part of who Graves is. This applies also to his lack of fear and his responsiveness to positive reinforcement.

Graves’s brain might look a little something like this:

Image credit: Quora (functional MRI or fMRI that takes images as the brain is working and seeing what lights up)

There is a lack of activity in the prefrontal cortex but that activity is not totally absent. Graves might let his emotions get the better of him when he’s one-on-one but overall he’s not impulsive. I'd expect to see a little more activity in his PFC actually. You’ll also see a lack of activity in a part of the brain called the amygdala. That is part of the limbic system, a more primal part of the brain. The amygdala processes negative emotions, which explains while men like Graves do not fear punishment or danger. He will, however, respond to positive reinforcement which increase endorphins, dopamine, and other feel-good neurotransmitters.

You can also see it below! There is high activity in the frontal lobe of the control as well as reasonably high activity in the limbic system. Jim's brain shows a lack of PFC activity as well as a lack of activity deeper in the brain in the limbic system.

Image credit: Rice University, Inside the Brains of Psychopaths

ONE FINAL BUT VERY IMPORTANT NOTE:

Psychopathy DOES NOT equal psychotic. They don’t mean close to the same thing. Psychopathy is mainly dictated by a lack of remorse, empathy, and fear. Psychotic means someone who is out of touch with reality. Think hallucinations, delusions, and so on. Psychotic people do not make good criminals. They’re sloppy and tend to get caught fairly quickly. A psychopath is super in touch with reality! The pick up on details and cues we do not. They do not feel fear and don’t care who they hurt, allowing them to move on with their lives. So if someone says: Graves is psychotic! You can say: ah-ah! Psychopathic :D

Y'all I'm very tired lol I hope you enjoyed. I FUCKIN LOVE talking about this stuff and I can talk about it forever! I can post soooo much more on Graves if y'all are interested :)

[jackhues]

warm - jack hughes

prompt: "you're cold?" "no? it's super sunny right now-" "take my jacket anyway."

requested by: @lhugh : )

notes: i really liked writing this one, partially bcz i'm in love with jack and his smile atm, and partially bcz it's just really cute. thanks for requesting <3

tags: @woodruff-edwards <3

gif not mine!

you took a bite of your food, laughing to yourself as jack recounted some old story. 

the two of you were at a local pizzeria in new jersey, enjoying a lunch date since you didn’t have a formal one in quite a while. with the devils being on a long road trip for the past week and your exams taking place right before that… the two of you had been quite busy.

“okay, but did he not read the damn label?” you laughed.

“you know luke,” jack shrugged, laughing lightly. “he relies on mom so much, when she told him the mosquito repellent was on the counter, he didn’t think to read the bottle.”

“and he sprayed insecticide on himself?!” you shook your head to yourself, “one bottle said ‘off’, and the other said ‘raid’. it’s not that hard. and, if we’re being honest here, i expect that more from you than from him.”

“hey!” he protested.

you raised your hands in defence, “be honest with yourself, j.”

he sighed, shaking his head, “yeah… you’re right.”

the two of you laughed, recounting stories from the years you’d known each other. it was a fun day, spent enjoying each other's company more than anything.

after lunch, you headed over to a small cafe, grabbing a coffee and muffin for yourself. jack ordered the same, along with some scones. you looked around the cafe, the one where the two of you had met. 

a small smile made its way to your face as you remembered the day. feeling jack’s eyes on you, you turned towards him.

smiling self-consciously, you asked, “what?”

“nothing,” he shook his head, a soft smile on his face.

safe to say, the ‘nothing’ did not make you any less self-conscious.

“what?” you asked again, kicking him under the table.

“ow!” he grabbed his leg, even though you hadn’t kicked him hard. he was just being dramatic to try and avoid answering the question. at your narrowed eyes, he shrugged to himself. “it’s nothing, i told you.”

“you keep looking at me like… like… i don’t know!” you raised your hands in defeat. “you just keep smiling and looking at me, and it’s starting to scare me.”

“wow, i didn’t know i wasn’t allowed to smile at girlfriend,” he rolled his eyes lightly.

“obviously you're allowed, but you can at least tell me why,” you said. “i mean, it’s making me nervous.”

“it’s funny, because there’s literally no reason for you to be nervous,” he took your hand from across the table, running his thumb over your knuckles. it was such a simple act, but it literally made you melt every time he did it. “i was just thinking about how cute you are. you were thinking about when we met, weren’t you?”

you ducked your head, wondering if you were really that transparent. “maybe, maybe not.”

jack laughed to himself, causing you to scowl and throw a scone at him.

“i don’t know why you’re laughing,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “if i remember correctly, you were the one who spilled both of our coffees.”

“you spilled mine first!” he laughed. 

“and i bought you a new one, even though you’re a freaking millionaire,” you tried to fight the stupid grin that made its way to your face every time you remembered this story. “then you managed to spill both of ours.”

“i bought you another coffee after that,” he reminded you.

“three days later,” you added.

“because you said you were running late and had no time.”

“oh please, you just wanted an excuse to take me out on a date,” you accused.

jack bit the inside of his cheek, fighting his smile. he raised his hands in surrender, “okay, so maybe the perfect opportunity presented itself and i couldn’t help but take advantage of it. but i’d say it led to something pretty great.”

a smile made its way to your face as the two of you cleaned up and headed out. the two of you walked down the street, fingers laced as you told him about your new assignment and how you were actually excited for it. 

a shiver ran down your spine, causing you to squirm.

“what is it?” jack asked, noticing you shiver. “you’re cold?”

“no? it’s super sunny right now-”

“take my jacket,” he slipped his hoodie off, draping it over your shoulders, despite your protests.

“jack, i’m not even cold,” you told him. “it’s just a shiver. it doesn’t mean i’m cold.”

“too bad,” he said, sticking your arms through the sleeves.

you rolled your eyes slightly, but pulled the hoodie closer to yourself. it was big on you, but it was cozy and it smelt like him. 

despite the sun being out, and you not being cold, the hoodie made you feel warm.

-

join my taglist!

[reds-writings]

snippet of the current fic that is kicking my ass rn pls send help:

Meanwhile, after hanging up on you Rust couldn’t help but bring a heavy hand to his tired eyes as he exhaled through his nose. Marty eyed him warily as he sat across from him in the depressing confines of the Texan's apartment. 

“So you lied to her.” 

Rust didn’t bother meeting the blonde’s disappointed look. 

“You don’t think that might blow up in your face? She’s sharper than you may realize…ain’t some fragile thing who can’t handle her shit-”

“I don’t need her on this, Marty.” Rust tried remaining passive at the mention of you. 

Things were becoming too complicated. A harsh consequence of his failure to keep his baneful desires in check. Giving in to such false hopes had him feeling more than weak and cheap the longer he had time to sit and think on it. To entertain such a notion with you was cruel to an extent he found himself severely uncomfortable with. It wouldn’t work. Not in this lifetime or perhaps any other that would exist in the infinite hell that was the universe. That's just how it was. If he backed away now perhaps he could still manage whatever little semblance of control he had left. 

“Don’t need her on this or don’t want her on this? There’s a mighty big difference, buddy.” Marty didn’t know about the recent developments between you two but it was clear he was becoming aware that something was afoot. The pair stared at each other long and hard.

“This is a two-man job. No need for added weight.” Rust broke first, taking a long drag at the cigarette pinched between his nimble fingers.

“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself. This is her case too and I don’t appreciate you havin’ me be part of some lie-”

“I can remind you that you haven’t had much of a problem with lyin’ as of late-” 

“Oi, don’t get all judgy with me just cause you’re scared of somethin’ you ain’t got the emotional bandwidth to fuckin’ handle on your own. Y/n’s a smart girl. Strong. It would be unwise of you to underestimate her abilities because of some holdup you’ve maybe got-”

“Marty.” Was Rust’s final warning. The steeliness of it had the blonde’s hands going up in mock surrender. If Rust didn’t want to unpack his growingly obvious partialness towards you then he wouldn’t bother. It’s not like he was much in the mood to help out the pissy curmudgeon he called a partner with his advances towards you. Marty saw you something similar to that of a little sister. He wasn’t sold on the idea of romance, if Rust were even capable of the notion, happening between you both. Your heart was too big for the likes of Rust in his opinion and he didn’t want to see you put in the monumental effort of caring for the hopeless loner only to be sorely disappointed in return. 

i hope to have this out by the end of this week or the beginning of next! i've found myself in a bit of a writing rut but we push forward nonetheless. my requests/inbox are open so don't be afraid to message me!

[truths33k3r4]

CHAPTER 28 - An Un-Sound Mind

Murky black morphed into overwhelming, piercing white as Don’s vision steadily began to return. The growing ache in his shoulders were revealed to be two sets of large, gloved hands dragging him through the first dimly-lit corridor. His ears were echoing with a screeching hum as he once again was pulled back to consciousness. He tried to blink away as much of the sleep crusties in his eyes as he could, despite it making little difference given he still couldn’t SEE. That makes planning one’s escape and taking notes of surroundings just a bit more difficult. 

I bet Raph’s got the seeing thing covered.. Knowing that flame-head he probably fought off the sedative far quicker than I did.. 

Don got a little worried by how much concentration he needed just to turn his head. His mind still lagged, and his body still felt unreasonably heavy and uncomfortable to move.

Ughh.

Don slowly turned his head to face the guard on his left. The only human traits of his captor were their two legs, two feet, and their head. Anything else regarding the features of their hair or the color of their eyes was concealed behind their reflective helmets. Instead of looking into the face of another person- another soul, the only eyes that met his were his own mirrored in the reflection of the man’s helmet. 

While Don stared at the faceless soldier, his eyes quickly fell on to the design of their gear and armor. Thanks to the guard’s close proximity to himself, his infuriatingly blurry vision only partially distorted their image, making it easier for him to study the fine work of the man’s armor. Its sleek design and firm material moved with ease as the man walked. All the seams stayed pressed and tidy. Not a button was loose. It was excellent craftsmanship.

Of COURSE it is- look at the size of this place.. Pretty sure whoever’s in charge can afford giving his guards quality gear.. I should probably make some alterations to ours when I get back.. Maybe I would have enough saved up by then to be able to-

His words echoed painfully back to him like a slap to the face.

‘ ..when I get back.. ‘

This is not some vacation or a WEEKEND GETAWAY. 

He and Raph are prisoners.

.. And the chances of them returning to their home are slim at best. That isn’t fear. That’s fact.

Nevermind that- Focus. Raph is most likely awake now, if he hasn’t already been for the past few minutes.. I don’t hear any struggling, but if he got hit with the same stuff I did, then his body must feel heavy too.. I can hear footsteps behind me. Most likely Raph is being carried by two more guards..

And then a new problem arrived at the door of Don’s brain: 

HOW THE SHELL AM I GONNA COMMUNICATE WITH HIM? I can’t speak. I can’t reach him.. How-

Almost immediately a childhood habit reemerged from the forgotten corner of his matured mind.

Don inwardly groaned to himself.

That’s self-demeaning.. But it just might work.

As quietly as he could manage- cause he still had some dignity - Don sounded the tiniest of chirps; a sound he had not made in more than ten years.

Before he was taught how to speak, this is how the brothers would communicate to each other. Raph, Leo, Mikey and himself would sound an assortment of clicks and chirps, each in different orders to translate to specific messages. 

Click- chirp - click ~ “ Are you ok? “

Chirp ~ “ Hey “

Chirp - click  ~ “ Yes “

Click - click ~ “ No “

And so on.

The refreshing nostalgia that washed over Don with the memories of his childhood was quite welcomed in the situation he had found himself in. But with the joyous feelings of memories long past, comes the sadness of the fact that those times are, indeed, OVER. In fact, he was so lost in the past that he failed to pay attention to what was occurring in the present. Like if Raph even heard or answered his call..

Deafeningly silent minutes passed as Don’s anxiety only grew. The jingles of his chains no longer swayed, but shivered. He could feel the same painful ache in his chest infect his heart as it had throughout his teen years.

Now’s not a good time for a panic attack, calm down.

In spite of his clear refusal, Don’s body continued to betray him. Theories in his mind began to transform into worries; What ifs. 

What if Raph’s not here?

What if they took him away to some other lab?

What if he’s in another city entirely??

What if he’s being tortured as I just sit here being blind and USELESS?!!

NO. STOP IT. FACTS, DON. You don’t know where he is. BUT there’s a possibility that he’s literally right behind you, just unconscious. And if he’s asleep, then of course he wouldn’t answer your call. 

The jingles of keys snapped Don back to the situation at hand. He raised his head just as he and his captors reached what appeared to be the final door at the end of this eternal hallway. Thankfully, moving his body was slowly becoming an easier feat.

Guess the sedative is finally wearing off.

As one of the guards fumbled with the set of keys, Don took the opportunity to take one last look around. 

Why the shell did he use the word ‘ last ‘ ??

What if it was.

Ochitsuke, Don. THAT’S ENOUGH.

To Don’s right, a pane of see-through glass stretched across an entire wall, revealing the inside of another room. He tried to peer through, but his blurry vision once again became a hindrance. He had to squint and grimace to even begin forming the floating blobs into a recognizable image.

Something.. was kept upright. But the angle of the something made him think it was being held up. He could see that the something was mostly consisting of a pale green color as well. His confusion only grew when he noticed what appeared to be a large growth coming out of the something’s back. It was rounded, and covered the length of its body perfectly- 

And then it hit him.

That something was a turtle. A turtle LIKE HIM. And the only other turtle like him in this nightmare lab was Raph. And if that’s RAPH, then what the heck happened to his skin?!?!?? The shade of it was all wrong. It was misty and faded- not vibrant and healthy like his own.

He wanted to cry out. To scream to his brother. To make sure he was ok. To make sure that he was ALIVE. 

He could try to run. Attempt to save him and his brother from this nightmare. Or just try to get a closer look to see if there was even a brother to save anymore.

The decision was made for him as he was pushed through the now open doorway in front of him. He yanked and tugged and fought, but the grips on his shoulders stayed firm. Even so, he continued to try to elbow and kick at his captors, aiming always for the areas he knew would cause the most pain. His actions were harshly cut short with a single blow to the side of his face. His ears rang so loud it gave him a headache, pulsing and pressing deep into his mind. The nausea that came with the disorienting hit made his whole head go limp, hanging lifelessly as he tried to keep down his dinner. His cheek began to swell, burning with a reddish- purple bruise, and the fresh tears falling from his eyes stung as they trickled down his face.

Raph.. I’m sorry.

As he watched the door close behind him, he kept his eyes on his brother’s faded form till the last second. Then he was pulled to the floor and tied down by the cuffs and chains restricting his wrists. They locked into place in a slot on the ground, pulling him down to his knees. The room smelled dank and the cold, dirty ground dug into Don’s shins. His wrists ached from the abnormal pressure and weight.

But despite all the pain flowing freely through his body..

.. all he wanted was his brother back.

Without knowing if Raph was ok, Don’s mind could only guess. Estimate. Hope.

The room’s aura deepened into a chasm of fear and anxiousness as all he could do was think. His fear constricted him worse than any of his chained cuffs could. His anxiety weighed him down far below the floor he was already kneeling on. His doubt yanked and tugged at his thoughts relentlessly until they went to places he didn’t want to go. 

The thing about having a strong mind is.. It can turn on you. Like the monster from Frankenstein, the thoughts you give life to will eventually have a will of their own. And if you’re not strong enough..

.. it will consume you. It will control you, beginning with your thoughts, and ending with taking full control of your body. 

Sensei had noticed the power of Don’s mind when he was a kid. But not just on the technological side. He noticed Don would overthink things. Become super anxious if he were left to his thoughts. When one of the brothers got sick, Don would hide in his closet praying like a warrior. Not for his brother’s health, but for his own. He would stay up all night, not looking for remedies for his ill sibling, but instead searching for ways that he could make his body an impenetrable fortress against the germs. And when he became a teenager, things didn’t get much better. If anything they got worse.. He just got better at hiding it. 

Eventually, Sensei pulled him aside and told him about the dangers of his mind. How easy it is to become a slave to your thoughts. An empty shell, always worrying, always afraid. How if he didn’t learn to hold truth in his heart, then the lies his mind would create would roam freely, taking full control.

Don didn’t understand all those years ago.

Now he’s beginning to. Here, in this dark cell, held down not by his chains, but by the overpowering grip of his mind.

Sensei’s words echoed in his heart.

‘ Remember this, my son. When worry begins to pull things apart, never forget to speak truth in your heart. 2 Timothy 1:7, “ For God has not given you a spirit of fear, but of power, and love, and of a sound mind. “ ‘

A sound mind.

A.. sound.. Mind..

Sound - which means reliable or Sensible. Well, it seems my brain is quite reliable when it comes to solving diverse equations AND creating worries.

Ok. Let’s try this mind that is sound thing. 

Don did his best to get into a less- uncomfortable position on the ground as he took a long breath.

Or as long as he could make it, that is. Which was like two seconds, but it was close enough.

Breathe..

He closed his eyes and harnessed all his focus into keeping his thoughts at bay. 

Lord. I am scared. I know You already know that, but I will still communicate it.. I am scared and I don’t know what’s happening to Raph- but I know YOU do- You know all- You’re omniscient, which means that You know all, but ANYWAYS. I um.. I know You have Raph in Your hands right now. I know You’re with him. Please, God.. Please keep my brother safe. I don’t even know where we are- but AGAIN- I know You DO, so I really shouldn’t worry- but I am- cause my brain is being stupid right now- but uhhh please- please Lord- help us to make it back home. Alive preferably.. That’s not sarcasm! Just being honest- I’d really prefer to not die today- You’ve seen my list- there’s still so much that needs to be done in the lair- And I’ve already lost so much time being here- AGhhhhh I’m so bad at this. Which You.. already know.. Cause You made me this way.. And I know You still love me- despite my blatant faults and failing to do the simplest of chores… Aaand there I go again.. I’m sorry- my brain just won’t stop- yes, that is my request- Please, Lord, help me to have a sound mind. Help me not to have a spirit of fear. Uh.. A- amen.

Don let out a frustrated groan as he rubbed at his temples. He flinched at the tenderness of his bruised cheek as his hand skimmed over the fresh bruise.

“..D - don? “

 A familiar voice strained from the far corner of the cell, making Don flinch something awful to the sudden noise in the silent room.

Don twisted his head as far as it could turn towards the dark corner where the voice emanated from.

 Even with blurred vision, Don knew it was his twin.

“ RAPH!!!!! “

That's it for this chapter. :) Not sure if you can tell- ( I truly hope you do since its spread out all throughout this chapter ) but Don deals with anxiety. The kind that pulls you to silent, dark places. The kind that doesn't ever let go of your brain and thoughts.

In my Biblical Study of Anxiety, I am learning how imperative it is to speak truth in your heart. " Don't fill your heart with what if's, but instead truth. " And I wanted to explore this with poor Don here. XD Worry and fear have been a huge part of my life- just as much if not more than my faith. But slowly, I'm learning to let go of the lies I tell myself. I'm learning to give all my fears and worries to God. And it's hard. It's very hard to let go of control. But the peace I have found in Him- It is indescribable. And I pray that this chapter will touch hearts- and help them to see there is a way out of your anxiety. There is hope to quiet your noisy soul and mind. :) And giving it all to God is a good first step. :)

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

[raayllum]

set like 10ish years post-s5 idk man

Once Claudia has taken her prosthetic off for the day, she’s loath to put it on for anything, which is how she finds herself dithering over getting up from her comfy armchair to get up and go to bed. Ezran’s study is more than partially also hers, now, with plenty of her herbalist tomes stacked next to the sealed up scrolls on his desk, but the king had taken his leave maybe twenty minutes ago, and she knows she should retire soon.

In a bit, though. For now she just wants to close her eyes and appreciate the luxury of a comfy chair and warm castle, after so long, of a young man of twenty-two with a warm smile that she doesn’t deserve having directed at her, but it is, and—

The door opens and she starts, not recognizing the silhouette for a moment besides horns, but then—

“Oh,” says Rayla, hovering in the doorway. She steps in without apology, though, which is fair, after everything. “I didn’t realize you were still in here.”

“I was just about to go,” Claudia admits. And while Rayla can go into any room in the castle, she rarely comes here outside of more private council meetings. “Are you looking for something?”

“Callum left a scroll here earlier.” 

Claudia gestures to the desk behind her like be my guest, and ignores her dread of the colder months incoming. The castle had always been drafty in her youth, but that had hardly been a problem. Now, though, with the phantom pains... Claudia has been without her leg for eight years now, but it still hits sometimes, how much worse the winter makes the aching of her stump.

She kneads it without thinking, scowling equally on instinct when she catches Rayla looking. “What?” she says, and then softens. Her temper has always been a nasty thing, and adjusting to castle life—to being a fully realized person again and not a wounded animal backed into a corner, afraid to show any sign of weakness—has been difficult, but... 

“I’m sorry,” Rayla finally says, brow creased, the secured scroll in one hand. “About your leg.” She holds her other arm to her chest, the bad wrist Claudia had first noticed as something to use against her, and now something the mage tries to forget. “I almost lost my... I didn’t realize when I cut the tentacle what it would do.”

“Would you have made a different choice if you’d known?” Claudia asks almost flatly, and they share a strange smile.

“No.” 

It’s what explains the absence of anger in her chest, maybe, Claudia reflects; the knowledge that Rayla had always done whatever actually needed to be done, and not just what was convenient to believe even as said belief became continually more fractured and frayed. 

Claudia tucks a strand of dyed black hair behind her ear, exhaling as the other woman takes a seat in the armchair across from her, the hearth in the fireplace casting shifting light over both their faces.

“You don’t have to apologize for it,” Claudia says, a lump of pain and gratefulness in her throat. She hates that she doesn’t know just how far, just how much damage, she could’ve caused otherwise. Everything in her softens though, even the sharp sting of regret and shame, as she fidgets with her fingers. “Losing a leg is definitely worth keeping Ezran in my life.” Then she catches herself, her brain catching up with her heart, and adds, “And I, um, I’m glad of course I didn’t hurt you and Callum further, I—”

Rayla is already looking at her when Claudia looks up, a little panicked, but Rayla’s face isn’t disapproving or even surprised. She looks pensive and hard to read instead, brow slightly creased—did Claudia give away too much, or nothing at all?—before her lips twitch. She reaches over and pats Claudia on the hand. 

“Of course,” Rayla says, rising. “Well, I’ll leave you to it—and you’ll go to bed soon? You know Ez wouldn’t want to come back in the morning to find you here.” 

Claudia manages a tiny smile. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” She reaches down and straps on her prosthetic, groaning a bit, and Rayla holds the door open as they go out into the hall and go their separate ways.

Still, Claudia supposes she’s glad their paths led them here.

[fandomstars]

Hi :) I was wondering if I could request tbb boys with a male Jedi boyfriend? (With orange light sabers/saber since that's the color I have and it is pretty uncommon to see in the star wars universe. Also maybe have the reader be trans?)

(Sorry can’t do Trans/non-binary/poly/genderfluid. I’ve never done so and I don’t have enough knowledge to do so. Plus, I don’t want to offend anyone. The rest though I can do!)

Bad Batch x Male Jedi

Hunter:

First thing that caught his eye was the orange saber. He didn’t know too much about Jedi like Tech and Echo, but he knew enough that something was different about him.

It took him a few seconds to realize like yeah, and he’s also good looking.

Cue him being between flustered and trying to seem cool in the Jedi’s presence.

His brothers tease him ridiculously, especially since Hunter is usually the least likely to romanticize with anyone.

So when Hunter began to actually have feelings for said Jedi, it didn’t help Tech managed to find out enough about him to add him as the batch’s first Jedi.

Y/N didn’t really find out of just why the batch with the reputation of ‘No need to a jedi, we got a Hunter’ were so nice to him. Of course he had a crush on Hunter, I mean have you seen his hair?

Y/N was just as flustered around him, and even more so once the two began to get closer and go into battle together.

Let’s just say Hunter might do the first kiss due to the heat of battle more than anything.

—-

Crosshair:

Crosshair might of gotten a glance at him from afar one time, can’t say exactly how he ended up at the sparring room, but there he was battling a couple of training droids. Despite usually not interested in Jedi stuff, he couldn’t help but watch the entire training session.

Said Jedi knew someone was watching him, it didn’t help the force seem to draw some sort of connection to the mysterious person. (Force ships hard!)

Crosshair waits till he stops training (trying hard to hide the blush of being turned on by the Jedi decapitating the two training droids in one move. Not that he’ll admit it) to ask him for a drink.

The Jedi accepts, which has Crosshair wondering if he’s an imposter. No way a goodie twos Jedi would indulge in alcohol.

“It’s not that, Jedi occasionally drink alcohol (once of age), they just either do so in secret or rarely one forgets they do.” - Y/N

“I don’t drink alcohol, but the milkshakes at Dexters are the best.” - Y/N

Which leads the pair to the 79s bar, followed by Dexters for their first date.

First kiss happens the first place they meet, cause that training move basically made Crosshair this time, not try to hide his excitement and adoration.

——

Tech:

First thing he thought when he saw you was, ‘I can totally get more knowledge on Jedi lore from him!”

Wasn’t till he actually came up to you, that he became partially speechless on your beauty, but also flustered and stuttering of his request.

You smile and accept helping him learn more of Jedi lore, which makes him even more red.

So starts the two of you study dates. Tech rambling, yet blushing since you basically lean to his every word each time.

First kiss happens by your first move, followed by Tech nearly going all out passion before realizing the two of you are in the archives.

Tech knows Jedi have rules about dating and so on, but thanks to his intelligence, is able to loop hole around it and eventually let it be public (beyond his brother and sister) without any fear.

Loves to shower his lover with gifts, especially if you bring back some cool item on one of your missions.

——

Echo:

Unlike the rest of the batch, he’d already seen plenty of Jedi fighting and knew a lot of lore (the guy carried a manual a good portion of his life after all).

Still, it wasn’t to say he wasn’t impressed by Y/N’s moves, and once he became the batch’s Jedi, he was crushing hard.

He basically was the perfect gentleman for you. Making sure you got off the ship okay (hand holding bonus), back you up in battle (he surprisingly felt more alive fighting side by side with you)

He didn’t confess his feelings for awhile, mainly due to being part cyborg and all.

But you didn’t care, in fact, it got you to show him one of your favorite holo shows with a cyborg character.

Made him feel better, and it was during said binging holo dates, that he made a move.

Loves to see you use the force, maybe more way than one if you know what he means.

Will not let any Sith hurt you is he can help it. Beware Grevious and more.

——

Wrecker:

This guy is the king of the party, so it’s no surprise first meet up was at the 79s bar.

He was just chilling with his brothers, when across the bar he spots you.

He is usually upbeat and social, but he could literally feel his palms sweating just wondering what he should do.

His brothers encourage him, and so he does, and good timing too. Some drunk brute tries to assault you.

He cracks his knuckles and gets ready to throw hands. But then he sees you (after the brute knocks your drink off the bar) circle throw him into a nearby table before calmly asking the bartender for another drink.

Yeah, he was smitten. And the night seem to go by like that, and before he knew it, he was leaving the bar with his brothers, with your pad number in hand.

First kiss was defiantly after a usual sparring date, and it may of gotten heated.

Loves to show you affection, no Jedi or clone can stop him.

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

Hello!!! Thank you for tagging me 😊

I am wondering if you can write some NY/CA/NJ or CO/NV please 🥺

EEEEEKK HIIIII :3

And yes I can most definitely write some NY/CA/NJ for ya :]

California slowly blinked his eyes open, squinting a little as he reached for his glasses. As he put on his glasses, he could see New Jersey on the other side of the bed, scrolling through his phone and gently scratching a still sleeping New York’s scalp. Cali leaned over and gently kissed NJ on the lips, getting a slightly surprised sound from the shorter northeasterner.

"Hey poppy." NJ said, gently pulling away from the kiss and brushing Cali’s hair from his eyes.

"Heyyy…." Cali said, his raspy morning voice causing NJ’s face to heat up a bit.

The twos’ attention turned to NY when they felt him shift in his sleep. They both looked down and their faces softened a bit. New York’s expression was rather peaceful, rather than serious. His long messy brown hair that had been tied into a braid the night before was a bit of a mess, his partially near-white bangs (I gave him poliosis btw <3) covering his face. His breathing was steady and quiet, rather than rapid and panicked. His arms were gently wrapped around a rat plushie that the other two had stolen for him (they both got scolded, but NY still loves the plushie and cherishes it). The Empire State quietly snored a bit, but it sounded more like gentle purring.

"Oh god he’s adorable….." Cali muttered.

"I hate that I agree wit’ ya…..I guess it’s nice when he’s not all tense and high strung though…." New Jersey said, though he muttered the last part as a blush spread across his face.

"I don’t wanna wake him up," Cali said, "…But we have a meeting at 10." He gently rubbed his thumb along NY’s arm, feeling all the scars that plagued it.

"Who the ell’ schedules a meetin’ that early?"

"Gov, clearly." California responded with a sigh.

"Guess we should wake up sleeping beauty then…" NJ said quietly, sitting up more.

"Beauty sure is right…." muttered the Golden State.

"What was that?"

"Nothing—" Cali said quickly, turning away so that his blush couldn’t be seen.

"Sureeeeee~" NJ said with a smirk before leaning down towards New York. He leaned down towards NY’s face and gently placed a few kisses on his cheek and jawline, causing NY to squirm a little in his sleep and let out a tired groan. "C’mon sleepin’ beauty. Get up."

"…don’t wanna….." mumbled a half-asleep New York, giggling a tiny bit as NJ placed a few more gentle kisses on his cheek, jawline and ear."

"Well you have to babes, we have a meeting in a couple hours." Cali said, chuckling when NY sleepily groaned and tried to hide in the mess of blankets.

"C’mon doofus. Don’t make me get the spray bottle." New Jersey said, smirking.

"noooooo….." mumbled New York, staring up at them both with puppy eyes.

"Ughhh…..I guess we can cuddle mo-" New Jersey started to say, only to be cut off by California.

"No we won’t be. We have to get ready for the meeting. And Jersey, stop being so susceptible to the puppy eyes, they aren’t THAT cute."

"I don’t fall for the pu- *sigh* okay, maybe I do, but it’s not my fault that he’s f(speaks Jersey)kin’ adorable and knows it!"

"Yeah yeah…."

Just as New York was about to fall back asleep, his face suddenly lit up as he felt two kisses on both his cheeks, one on each side. He covered his blushing face with a groan as the other two laughed a bit.

Eventually though, he managed to con Cali into letting them cuddle more, and how he did that will never be known…..

[issylra]

Tumblr dropped my ask along with a chunk of your response in my inbox, so it's at least partially salvageable. 🍀 Here's the ask: Hey

I want to dump into your head an idea for the “Nightmares” bingo square. Or just babble about dreamling in your inbox without a reason. If you don’t mind. --

I don't think Morpheus would ever suggest taking Hob’s nightmares away, ‘cause he knows better than anyone how important they are. For an immortal man to live without nightmares would mean becoming insanely miserable or a monster. Probably both.

And after 1889 one of Hob’s recurring nightmares was, of course, Morpheus leaving for good because Hob said or did something, confronted him somehow. In his dreams reasons, as well as decorations, changed. The guilt and Dream’s retreating back, though, were always a constant.

It doesn’t matter if Dream knew about these nightmares before his imprisonment. He built a wall, he never peeked into the cracks. 2022 was when things became complicated.

After the reunion in ep. 6 they started — tentatively! baby steps — to build a relationship. Friendship, most probably, but the one when people actually know each other. It's a good starting point for something more. For them, though, it was still a summit to climb.

Dream being Dream never explained what he is. However, this time he gave Hob the name — Morpheus, and when Hob asked “so, the god of sleep?” he just smirked and stated something in line with “I’m no god, Hob”. And of course, Hob interpreted it as a "no, I'm not a god and don't have anything to do with sleep, try again later".

At some point, Dream felt the pull — Hob was dreaming about him. Maybe he tried to not give in, at first. Or maybe he headed the call the first time he felt it — no matter. The part that matters is that Dream was expecting something nice, or absurd, or maybe even a wet dream — but landed in the middle of a nightmare. A nightmare, where the source of Hob’s turmoil wore his, Dreams, face.

Dream didn't stop that nightmare. He took a place of his apparition — it felt right. Or at least less wrong than just observing his friend's suffering or leaving his friend there alone. And then Dream allowed the nightmare to run its course. It was the first, but definitely not the last time it happened.

After all, nightmares are a tool for healing and growth. And however it may hurt, if Hob needed to face his fear of driving Dream away, needed to overcome that fear, then he needed to endure the nightmares. There could be no healthy relationship of any sort between two individuals if one of them is fearful of driving the other away so easily. So randomly.

In the meantime, in Waking Dream made a point of softening the nighttime blows. He started visiting Hob after especially harsh ones. Not always on the same day, but soon enough that it still helped to soothe Hob's nervousness if it persisted. He didn’t want Hob to make a connection between him and his recurring nightmares, but he tried to cut the unneeded suffering when he could.

During their meetings, Dream would sometimes arrange an opening for Hob to confront him, to say something that could potentially aggravate him. And every time Hob would stop himself. He would bite his tongue, change the topic, or laugh it off. But sometimes these kinds of openings occured naturally, both of them oblivious until too late, until Dream — hackles raised, terse words on the tip of his tongue — would freeze in realization and Hob would use the pause to somehow diffuse the situation.

There's a climax, somewhere. Nightmares are an effective tool, and when paired with an anchor to remind the dreamer what's real, they could help overcome anything. __ And your reply:

This is so amazing, thank you for taking the time to send it to me! Honestly, there's so much I want to say to this, but my brain feels like soup, so bear with me. I may not manage.

I love Hob having a bit of a thing™️ about Dream leaving him. I've read a few fics that tackle it (Giving Sanctuary being the first one that springs to mind) and it hits so, so well. Hob in present day having a bit of a complex as they get closer that he might say or do the wrong thing one day, see Dream storm off again and leave him behind. Pair that with Dream being a terrible communicator, and not explaining much of anything to Hob, let alone that their missed meeting was not actually Hob's fault.

There's something also kind of funny (and sad) about Dream trying to help by giving Hob openings to confront him, but actually just making Hob walk on eggshells constantly. In the nightmare scenario, I could totally see that coming to a head. Instead of being like "so, I've realized my past actions have had a lasting effect on your psyche and I would like to reassure you that I have no intention of leaving again" it's "my past mistakes are haunting your sleeping hours so I've decided to sprinkle a bit of trauma into your waking hours too, just to keep you on your toes!"

Classic Dream in that the easiest course of action is just to talk, but let's make things needlessly complicated (and worse) instead. Even with the very best of intentions.

Anyway, I really do love this. It's exactly the kind of conflict I enjoy writing. When two people don't fit together like perfect puzzle peices, and

Very happy that this wasn't lost in the void forever.

I think the rest of what I was saying is basically that I really enjoy reading/writing about characters that don't necessarily fit together in all ways, working out how to smooth away their harsher edges for each other. This scenario would be perfect for that because it hits on so many of both Dream and Hob's character weaknesses at once.

Again I have to thank you for sharing, because this is excellent inspiration!

[avikats66]

So since you ship Ryou x Akira x Miki x Miko in your own devilman verse, what is their relationship dynamic like?

Oh wow, well, hmm - so I kind of imagine a universe where Ryou and Akira manage to best Michael and somehow bargain with/convince god for him to restore/reset Earth and let them be to govern their own affairs. How and the exact details I’m still thinking up; after all, not much is known about god in the Devilman verse other that he is callous and vindictive towards his creations/subjects. What would convince this prideful god to demands complete obedience/subservience from and power over his subjects to stop tormenting Satan for his rebellion, relinquish his hold over Earth, and allow those who have defied him and that he deems unfit creations to exist on a world contrary to his design? I don’t really know: maybe he respects the strength/power it took to defeat Michael, maybe he’s lost interest in Earth over more prominent matters he’s got going on in the universe, maybe he’s capable of showing mercy, maybe he’s just gotten bored or frustrated with torturing Satan and doing all the resets/timeloops, or maybe a combination of the above or something else entirely. I’ll work it out eventually.

But on to the Ryou x Akira x Miki x Miko dynamic, which what I’m really all about. So the four of them come together in this timeline (set at about 2020 or where we are now in real life) at the point before the apocalypse starts with Akira and Ryou holding memories from previous loops - in Ryo’s case many many more than Akira given their capacity as an angel. Ryo has changed/learned a lot from all these loops, especially from their time living as Asuka and Jun, and is ready to yielding control over and making compromises/working with both individuals dear/known to him - mainly Akira but also others like Miki, Miko, and anyone Akira will vouch for - as well as humanity as a whole. It’s a huge undertaking to get demons, humans, and devilmen to do-exist, but it helps that only a select few who’ve been directly involved in causing the previous apocalypses from earlier loops hold those memories.

That’s a whole other post though, so now that we’ve got a vague setting, back to the relationship dynamic. Ryou is obviously deeply in love with Akira and now doing their best to respect him and his autonomy and wants more - and they’ve even learned to extend this care and consideration to others. Akira, being the person he is, acknowledges and accepts Ryou’s efforts - partially because he’s ready for peace and doesn’t want to risk starting another conflict, but also because he does still care for his dear friend and to be able to have that relationship again and in a world where Miki and humanity is also saved does bring him happiness. The beginnings of Ryou and Akita’s official romantic/sexual relationship are slower in developing and navigated step by step. Obviously there’s a lot of issues and feelings to work past, but Ryou has learned both patience and humanity, and their fear of losing Akira again helps them maintain respect for what Akira needs/wants and to let things develop on mutual terms rather than trying to force the relationship.

Akira and Miki on the other hand start dating fairly quickly, as the two already have and established dynamic and relationship based off of care for and understanding of each other, and Akira is beyond over-joyed and grateful to have Miki alive and with him given his memories of what’s happened to her in previous loops. During this time, Miki and Miko remain close friends, but with Miko silently angsting over Miki being in a relationship with someone else and continuing to swallow down her feelings. But Miki knows Miko and her feelings, and sooner than later when the time is right Miki breaches the subject with her. Miko confesses her feelings and Miki affirms her own feelings of love towards Miko and her willingness to reciprocate that sort of relationship with Miko. They inform Akira that they’re going to start dating, and he’s kind of taken aback but after Miki confirming that she still also loves him and doesn’t want to end their current relationship he goes along with it fine.

Akira gets on with and knows Miko well, and her can sense her care for and desire to protect Miki. He also knows of both all the very pure and genuine love Miki has, as well as her stubbornness in doing what she wants, and he understands, accepts, and loves her for these things and the way she can love both him and Miko - as well as all the love and care and understanding she holds for others in platonic and familial ways. Akira and Miko make great friends and fellow devilmen/Miki lovers, and Miki is Miki: full of love and spirit and well-able to care for both herself and her two partners.

Meanwhile Ryou: are they jealous of Miki and her close and loving relationship with Akira given the distance and difficulties still between Akira and themself? Oh, absolutely; but, as I’ve said earlier, they’ve really changed and grown a lot. They have the understanding/capacity to consider Akira’s feelings, how he cares for and treasures Miki, and to respect that. They even have come to be able to acknowledge and appreciate Miki herself as a unique individual (eventually even leading into love and romantic/sexual feelings/relations between the two). It’s part of their realization of how unjust and callously they had been viewing humans, and part of their experiences and understandings from living as Asuka/Jun with this new perspective. In fact, Ryou is learning to see all humans in terms of being unique persons rather than pieces in a condemnable and unworthy whole as a species. One of my favourite aspects of this ship is the four of them coming together and really developing mutual love and understanding between each other, and especially for Ryou that’s a really big and special process. They teach and help each other to be people, to be better people, to be the best person/version of themselves that they can be. They navigate this new existence, where they are free to make their own fate and shape their own world. They have hot devilman sex-

Ahem; so yeah, that’s kind of a general gist of the dynamic and universe I imagine for them? Um, not super well formed but it’s an idea which I really love. And that’s one of the main reasons I consume stories: to generate and enjoy ideas that I love and make me happy :)

[itsdark0ut]

„No One Sleeps At Night”* [Info panel]

[*or „It’s Dark Out”]

Mcyt AU by: @littlescammer & @pvmpkim

Ilustrated by: @pvmpkim & @ari-axis

Basic info:

- - -

What caused the apocalypse?

Due to unknown reasons Earth has stopped moving around its axis. It caused half of the globe dive in non-passing night while the other half become dry and burned because of the sun.

- - -

Why is the action taking place only on the non-passing night side?

Despite the darkness, most of the survivors decided to fight for their life on the night side, because it is easier to find water there. It is also possible to grow plants in greenhouses thanks to that. You only need to find a good source of energy (other than solar energy).

- - -

Is this world build more in Minecraft world of more classic postapo world realities?

Due to the fact that postapo is a science fiction sub-genre and the situation with the Earth just stopping is unlikely to happen, we decided not to include the classic mobs that can be found in Minecraft as an everyday element, so that we can get closer to real life world. Therefore we will put redstone connotations and the story will most likely include [SPOILER ALLERT!]:

- minecraft origins (or at least those that managed to survive ehe) which will be refereed as “hybrids”* and “races”**

- Warden (:D), Ancient City and Deep Dark stuff

- overgrown spiders, phantoms and new additions to the Earths fauna and flora. 👽👍🏻

- - -

Hybrids and Races case

For example - Jimmy is a hybrid because he has human and non-human genes, but in reality he is a different race because he is an so called avian. He has many changes that make him unlike a human, despite having a partially humanoid appearance.

Races that have human genes in them can be called hybrids (although some may be offended), but not all hybrids can be called a race. There are cases of mutations that are too few to be passed on to offspring, or to create any at all. Changes to the appearance or function of a hybrid that is not eligible to start a new race are lost with them upon their death.

It's too early to tell yet, but it is suspected that by stopping the Earth, hybrids' ability to procreate has decreased, thus preventing races from settling, which may explain why is it easier to meet a one-of-a-kind hybrid than a representative of a particular race.

- - -

Who will be included in the ido/nosan series?

Minecraft personas mostly from so called Hermempires (Hermicraft + Empires), maybe NewLife SMP, don’t know yet. I don’t plan on adding anyone from DSMP or QSMP.

- - -

How will the series begin? How will your posts look like?

I ( @littlescammer ) will be posting here something similar to chapters or diaries if I feel a need to show you how a single situation looked in mind of a character. The “chapters” will mix of different POVs of various groups or duos starring in the series and I will be using omniscient narrator for that. Diaries will be posted as 1st person narrator, obviously.

Also sorry for my mistakes, this is my very first time writing something like this in English which is not my native language. 🙏🏻 Fell free to correct me. 🧍🏼‍♂️❤️

So I am the writer and @pvmpkim & @ari-axis are illustrators. 🤝

Btw we are starting with ranchers POV, because the illustrator 1 said so. ;)

- - -

How should I call the series? “It’s Dark Out” or “No One Sleeps at Night”?

Well… First name for this AU was “No One Sleeps at Night” and it was my idea. I liked it, because it sounds nice and poetic in my native language and it was pretty spontaneous. Also the acronym for this in English translation is NOSAN which sounds like “no sun” which is… Correct. XD But before I noticed that @pvmpkim decided to call the AU “It’s Dark Out” (instantly in english) because it’s more clear and plain. So yeah…

I guess we will be using two for now and we will se which one will work better in future. Maybe I will make a pool if the series would gain more attention.

- - -

This post will be edited to add more info! :D

[oro-e-diamanti]

Puppet Masterlist | Puppet Taglist | Ko-Fi

Ethan corners you. Nights with Thomas feel like old times. You have a talk with Damiano.

Content: no real smut just yet, apologies!

Word Count: 2.8k

Lesson Two: Talk about it.

"So, do you know what you like in theory though? Or is that something you're figuring out as you go along?"

You almost choked on your toothbrush, startled by the sudden appearance of no other than Ethan Torchio, who seemed to care very little about basically ambushing you in the bathroom during your nighttime routine. In fact, he looked rather contemplative, lost in thoughts. The questions were apparently pressing enough that he barely registered that he was interrupting you in a slightly awkward situation.

You quickly spat out the toothpaste, rinsing the brush under the water and drying your mouth, before turning towards him. He was a little intimidating, still. The last time you had properly hung out with them, he had looked like an adorable, weird teenager with his hair in plaits and no real fashion sense. Now he was towering over you, having long grown into his gorgeous features, toned chest visible under his tank top and everything about him screamed confidence. It seemed like the complete opposite to your own appearance in the mirro.

"What do you mean exactly?"

"Like, are you aware of any of your kinks? Do you have some specific things in mind you want to try? Are you partial to being more submissive or dominant in bed?"

The choking sensation was back, but this time it wasn't actually caused by anything in your mouth, but the tightening feeling in your chest. He was looking at you directly now. There was no judgement in his eyes, no pressure for you to know all the answers, just pure curiosity, free of any opinion on what you could possibly say.

"I... I don't know," you stammered. Of course, being sexually inexperienced didn't mean you hadn't thought about it plenty, read things online, watched things online, but suddenly, with him staring back at you, you felt like you didn't actually know anything anymore. "I'm not even sure I know how exactly a submissive or dominant person would behave, I think."

"Well," Ethan mused, a slight smile playing on his face. You knew he had the upper hand as he slowly approached you, but you didn't mind. You knew he wouldn't try to put you on the spot or set out to embarrass you in any way. It felt safe. "What's more appealing to you, then? Taking control, making all the decisions, be a little more aggressive, maybe tease or punish your partner, or..."

You didn't see his next move coming. All you knew was that one second you were staring at his lips, enthralled by every word falling from his mouth, and the next he had you pressed against the wall behind you, hands trapped against it by his own, his body pushed up to yours, letting you feel all of him. The pathetic gasp that escaped you only put a smirk on his face.

"...or do you prefer being the one having these things done to you?"

You barely managed to make out his words over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest and the noise of blood rushing in your ears. Within a single second, he had reduced you to a gasping mess, cowering under his gaze and his hold on you, ready to wait for whatever his next move was going to be. You were sure you'd go along with anything.

Unfortunately, his next move was letting go of you completely, putting distance between the two of you, his face adorned with a knowing smirk.

"I think I know which you prefer," he chuckled darkly. "But we can figure out the specifics in time. Have a good night."

The soft kiss pressed to your forehead didn't mirror any of the feelings currently running through your body but before you had any chance to protest or question it, he was gone, out of the bathroom, leaving you slightly confused and with a distinct pulsating sensation between your legs.

***

You couldn't sleep. The house was quiet, you were lying in the perfect dark under a light cover with nothing to possibly bother you, but your own thoughts refused to let you calm down. You were still struggling to come to terms with how quickly the evening had derailed and how, with essentially one decision, one agreement to a question, everything about the rest of your stay and possibly your relationships with the four friends living here had changed. However, you also knew that giving in to your flurry of thoughts at 3 a.m. wasn't the best idea, and it certainly wasn't going to help you get any more clarity for now.

You tried to think of things to calm you down, but your brain always circled back to the matter at hand. You put up some calm music, but all it did was distract you. You tried white noise and a playlist titled "Fall Asleep in under 10 minutes" but it was full of whale noises and you couldn't stop thinking about swimming in the ocean with whales for some reason. Either way, nothing lulled you into sleep.

You could only think of one thing that could possibly help.

Well, it had helped years ago, time and time again, but maybe it was worth a shot to try again.

Leaving your room was the easy part, but tiptoeing down the hallway, trying desperately to remember which room belonged to whom was much more difficult in the dark. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself as you stopped in front of the door your brain had deemed most likely to be correct, softly pushing down the handle to open it, hoping it would give you time to escape if you were wrong.

You weren't.

But you also hadn't been prepared to stare straight at Thomas' face, eyes open, hands glued to his phone. The light of the screen illuminated his features and seemed to blind him enough that he didn't notice you immediately. When he finally looked up, squinty eyes to make out what was happening, his face evoked surprise, but no dissatisfaction at seeing you in his room. Instead, both of you seemed to be teleported back to being 16, as he dropped his phone, hand reaching out for you, inviting you in.

You used to do this a lot. In fact, there was a time in your life when you were sure you had spent more nights in his bed than your own. You had both struggled with insomnia badly and ended up finding comfort in each other. Apparently, not much had changed.

You slipped in next to him, soft covers enveloping you immediately. There was a second of hesitation in his eyes as both of you lay on your sides, facing each other, but then his arm wrapped around you, pulling you in until you were comfortable nestled against his chest. It felt clumsy, neither of you having had time to get used to the fact that both of your bodies had changed since you had last done this, but after a little shuffling and some giggling, both of you settled in.

His heartbeat was right under your ear. But, unlike in the past, it wasn't slow and steady, but all over the place.

"What's happening here?" You whispered into the dark, your hand moving to his chest to cover the place his heart was beating the hardest. "This used to calm you down, not rile you up."

His chuckle sounded nervous, but he made no attempt to pull away.

"Just some old feelings coming back up."

It didn't explain anything. You pushed yourself away from him a little, just enough to be able to look at him in detail, the way his eyes stared back at yours, how his lips were curling into a small smile.

"What do you mean?"

"I used to have quite a crush on you when we were younger, you know."

You didn't. In all those years, nothing had ever given you a sign. Or had you just been oblivious? It was too late to nitpick at it now.

"And now?"

"I'm not 16 anymore, but what the others suggested earlier... I just got a little excited about the idea of finally kissing you, maybe. I'm not in love with you or anything, but... Just seems funny that something I used to think about constantly might finally happen."

This time, you didn't wait for anyone else to make a move. Your hand was in his hair, cradling the back of his head, as you pulled him down to you, not sparing another thought before your lips touched. He was soft against you, so much sweeter than Damiano or Victoria had been, and it made you press against him even more, craving more. His hand moved upwards along your body, cautiously, not quite daring to do anything, until it reached your cheek, the rough skin of his fingertips brushing against it. His kiss was slow, deliberate in a way that suggested he wanted nothing but to please you, and you were sinking into it with delight.

You couldn't tell how long you stayed like his, wrapped up in each other, lips brushing and teasing time and time again. Neither of you made a move to deepen the kiss, simply reveling in the tender moment until it slowly evaporated. When you parted, he had a sleepy smile on his face and you were quite sure you would see the exact same on yours if you could see yourself.

"As good as you imagined?"

He laughed lowly, turning onto his back and pulling you with him to situate you on his chest, arm protectively wrapped around you. His breathing was starting to even out already and, as if infectious, the tiredness you had been chasing before, in your room, was settling on you as well. His voice was nothing but a whisper, right before sleep overwhelmed him.

"So much better."

***

"What happened with you and Thomas last night then? Don't think I didn't notice you slip out of his room earlier."

You silently groaned as Damiano spoke behind you. You could almost see the self-assured smirk he would be sporting as you wanted nothing more than for the coffee machine to finish giving you a cup full of caffeine. It seemed to be the only way to wake up at least a little and deal with everyone else in the house who seemed much too chipper and happy for the time of day. Well, everyone but Thomas, who was still contently snoring in his bed.

"Nothing, couldn't sleep, went over to him, fell asleep, that's it," you mumbled, impatiently tapping your fingers against the kitchen counter.

"That seems very forward for someone as shy and clueless as you."

You hadn't noticed him coming closer, but now you could feel his breath on your neck with every word your spoke. It woke you up more than any shot of espresso ever could. The tingling feeling spread through your body like wildfire, awakening every nerve ending, your focus now solely on him. You barely registered the coffee machine finishing its job.

"Or are you just dying to get corrupted a little?" Damiano whispered, impossibly closer, not even an inch away from touching you as his hands came down on the countertops, effectively caging you in. Your breathing was getting uneven, quite obviously affected by the closeness. Your whole body was screaming out at him to make a move, to touch you, to get closer, to let you feel him, but he stayed put. The anticipation immobilised you.

"I bet that underneath all of this," he mumbled, "you can't actually wait to get with any of us."

In one sudden movement, his hand came down onto your bare thigh, just underneath the hem of the shorts you had slept in, a touch rougher than you had expected, so close to where you wanted him - and you froze.

It seemed to register in his brain before it did in yours. In the split second it took for him to let go of you, his demeanor changed completely.

"Fuck, are you okay?"

"Of course," you pressed out, but your shaky hand as you reached for the cup of espresso was betraying you. "Sorry, I..."

"There's absolutely nothing to be sorry about." His hand carefully came down on your shoulder, relaxing as he noticed you embracing the touch instead of flinching away from it. "Why don't you go get your coffee and we have a little talk on the sunbeds outside?"

You simply nodded, feeling the embarrassment of your unwanted physical reaction wash over you, but Damiano simply gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze and walked away, giving you some time to compose yourself.

You weren't quite sure what had just happened - you surely hadn't felt that self-conscious yesterday, when he had kissed you, or when Vic had, or when Ethan had pressed you against the wall, or when you had snuck into Thomas' bed. Then again, you had been drinking. And now you were tragically sober, feeling ever so slightly hungover, and overthinking everything that had happened yesterday.

It wasn't that you had regretted anything about what had transpired within the last hours. Far from it, actually. But now, in the bright light of day, your brain had turned back on and the stark difference between their sexual confidence and your absolute inexperience had you cowering in shame. You knew they were the last people to judge you. In fact, last night had proven that if anything, they were ready to jump onto the chance to teach you a few things, but being faced with it now was a lot more daunting than when you had agreed hours before.

The cup of espresso was empty by the time you gathered the courage to find Damiano. As soon as he spotted you, he moved over to make some space on the lounger, opening his arm to invite you in with a sincere smile. You didn't hesitate, sitting down next to him with his arm casually slung around your shoulders.

His fingertips were carefully tracing along the skin of your arm. You turned your body towards him slightly, carefully placing your hand on his chest, daring yourself to be brave, not to be the one to pull away, not to be the one that simply let other people do things to her. His hand came up to yours, holding onto it and moving it to a slightly more comfortable position for him.

"Now, lesson two-"

"Are you going to preface everything with "lesson" now?" You interrupted, biting back a giggle.

"Yes, I will," he smiled, "and you're going to listen and learn. Right?"

You nodded, happy to go along with his little game.

"Good. Lesson two: Talk about it. That includes stating what you like, what you don't like, when to stop, when you want us to go on, when you need a break, what you would like to try... anything at all. For example, I'm pretty sure, right now you wouldn't be so impressed with me if I tried moving your hand somewhere a little different."

He made the slightest move, letting both his and your hand travel downward his chest just that little bit, but knowing where this could be heading, you found yourself freezing in fear again immediately.

"Exactly," he laughed, quickly pulling your hand up to his mouth to press a soft kiss against your fingers. "But other times, we might not quite know what you're thinking or what you need. Sometimes your body might not tell us everything or we simply don't notice. Which is why you need to talk to us. Okay?"

You nodded, but he wasn't convinced.

"I mean it. Talk. Not nodding, not looking at us a specific way, not making a noise. Using your voice. Unless you're gagged obviously, but that's for later."

You broke out in laughter before you knew it.

"Fine, fine. Okay. I'll use my voice."

"Good." Another kiss to the knuckles of your fingers. "Now let's start with the basics. Do you masturbate?"

If you'd been drinking you would have spit the liquid all over yourself and him. But you weren't, so you simply choked on your spit in surprise instead. You knew everyone in this band was shamelessly open, sometimes to a fault, but you hadn't quite gotten used to it - especially when it involved extremely personal questions about you.

"I mean, I- what?"

"You don't have to answer, I hope you're learned that already, I just want to get an idea of where you stand. Is it just about sex with other people or is it a general anxiety that includes touching yourself?"

You took a deep breath. The majority of your brain was screaming at you to get away and stop this conversation, but you knew Damiano had nothing but your best interest in mind. This was the chance of a lifetime - having four people at hand who were so willing to help you out - and you would feel foolish for years to come if you passed up on it.

"I do but, uh... I don't know it's not very good. I... I wouldn't exactly say I know what I'm doing most of the time."

Damiano pressed a short kiss to the top of your head, much too casual and soft for the topic at hand, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

"Well, I firmly believe that you have to have a relationship with your own body before you get it on with anyone else's. Lucky for you, I have just the person in mind to help you out with that."

~~~

Taglist: @till-you-scream-and-cry @ethaneskin @damianodavide @itsmaneskinbitch @blackberryblossom @lifeofa-fangirl @bethanysnow @noeprd27 @polygraph-paperplane @iambandlover @xx-x-frxnny @thewitchinthemountain @arrelia-hunter26 @crazyonthelines @vicbellaangelis @mortyandem @icarodamiano @Ursulalurks @Aapjesopeenfiets @xmusse @tellmesomething01 @elvirabelle @moonlight-simp @little-moonbeam-666 @maneslut

(Strike out means I couldn't tag you, sorry about that!!)

[endofthelinegang]

Steven grant one shot about him working in the museum and stumbling over the reader and spills their drink as they are looking at a artefact Steven is a mess and then goes to the gift shop to get the reader a new shirt and it ends with Steven saying “ I should really get you a drink now”

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  look I know there are a lot of Marc girls out there and I am with you on that HOWEVER i simp harder for Steven because not only do i relate to him running away from problems and being confused all the time but he is a sweetheart and more men like him need to fucking exist. (1.9k words)

join the gang!

If there was one thing you hated about getting drinks from to-go places or cafes it was the flimsy lids that they gave you along with the sometimes unsuitable cups. But alas you could never make one of those drinks and the idea of trying sounded like too much work, time, and money. So, like most people, you settled for the awful plastic cup. 

With your choice of drink in hand you had decided you were going to go out and do something minimally fun on that day since you had nothing else to do or that you particularly felt like doing. You had a lot of options, but the weather also had a lot of options as well. Seeing as to how the radar never went in your favor you chose an inside activity. The museum looked like a good choice, midday, not crowded with the exception of a school bus, and maybe two parked cars. 

Once you were inside you took note of the clean space that was full of artifacts and came across a sculpture, “Well, you must be important, let’s read about you.” You spoke to the tall sculpture as children ran around the area, their teacher nowhere to be found. “Ramesses II was the third pharaoh of the Nineteenth Dynasty of Egypt. He is often regarded as the greatest, most celebrated, and most powerful pharaoh-” Before you could finish reading the plaque you felt someone basically plow into you, spilling your drink all over you and partially the floor. 

“Oh good night, what have I done, I am so terribly sorry.” You stood with your eyes closed holding your arms out away from the mess you took in a deep breath. 

Were you ready to scream at whoever just did this? Yes. Would you do it after you opened your eyes? No. You sighed looking at the frazzled man who was still saying sorry and shaking his head, his eyes traveling quickly all over your shirt. 

“It’s alright, everyone is clumsy sometimes, it’s really no big deal,” You looked at him making eye contact, trying to divert his panicked gaze, and you spotted his name tag, “Steven.” 

“Hey if you’d let me, I know I’ve caused enough of a fuss, but we have a gift shop and I do believe I ruined your shirt. So may I buy you a new one?” He stumbled with his words taking breaths in weird places in his sentences but managed to give you a smile at the end. 

“Oh you don’t have to do all that, but uh you could show me to the gift shop, and then I could buy a new shirt because this one is starting to become very cold.” You gave him a smile and a light laugh.

“Again I am terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to fumble over you, I was just so flustered with all those kids running around almost knocking artifacts over I-” You cut him off and put a hand on his bicep. 

“Really, it’s okay, it’s just a shirt.” You nodded and he took a full pause before nodding back. “The gift shop?” You took your hand down and he began pointing around, “Right. Oh right!” He gestured towards your shirt again before heading in that direction as you followed by his side. 

“So Steven, do you like working here?” The walk was taking longer than expected due to the large masses of children that had just come in for their schools individual field trip. 

“Oh yeah I love Egyptian artifacts, though I will warn you most of the stuff in the gift shop is historically and mythologically inaccurate. I am not sure why they mass produce incorrect information onto shirts, posters, and even stuffed toys. Like that Egyptian tombs were booby-trapped, only rich Egyptians got mummified, or that everyone rode camels everywhere. Little misconceptions like that.” Steven was looking at you on and off, almost falling over himself every time. 

“That is odd, you would think they would do a little bit more research and correct it or at the very least make sure it’s right before they slap it on a bunch of stuff.” You agreed with him and he just looked at you in awe. 

“Exactly uh-” Steven only then realized he didn’t know your name and you noticed that by the way he searched his mind for it. 

“Y/n.” You answered before he could ask. 

“I’m so sorry I must have forgot because of the mess and,” 

“Steven, I never told you my name.” You giggled and nodded as this was the millionth time he had started apologizing. 

“Really?“ You nodded at him slowly looking at his eyes for a split second. You could see very clearly some dark purple lines.  He had been fidgeting and jumping around the entire time the two of you had been talking as well.

“Steven, are you okay? I’m not trying to pry but you seem awfully jumpy and your eyes are quite dark.” You spoke calmly towards him.

“I have a sleep disorder that’s really been messing with me recently, can’t seem to get a handle on the buggar.” Steven admitted to you but then immediately looked like he regretted it as you both walked into the gift shop and stopped. 

“I’m sorry to hear that but I’m sure you’ll get it sorted, you seem awfully smart and being aware that you have an issue is one of the best first steps.” You nodded smiling but in your head you were slightly embarrassed that you just sounded like someone's life coach. 

“You-you think that I am smart?” Steven sounded absolutely gobsmacked that after everything that had happened you were calling him smart. 

“Of course I do, everything you said earlier about the misprints and consistent fallacies on the designs was very smart. I knew none of those things but it was very interesting and informative to hear you talk about them.” Speaking and walking he followed you as you spoke and made your way to the t-shirts. 

“Thank you.” His voice was quiet as he stood next to you but he was smiling. 

“Which one of these shirts is the most incorrect?” You stood next to him grinning as the display in front of you had mannequins with different shirts in front of it. 

“Well, they have the same amount of wrongness but I would say this one is the most concerning.” He pointed to a shirt that had little emojis, an arrow in the middle, and hieroglyphs on the other side. 

“Why is that wrong?” Though you had a good guess as to why it was wrong you really just wanted to hear him go on and on again. There was something about the way that he spewed knowledge that appealed to you. 

“If someone sees a hieroglyph of a home, most assume the writer is referring to a living space. They can, however it can also refer to the English sound "pr." Egyptians utilized hieroglyphs as logograms, which represent full words, as well as phonograms, which represent sounds, and determinatives, which can help clarify the meaning of a word. Anyway, hieroglyphs aren’t necessarily an image-for-word translation. So to compare hieroglyphs to emoji’s is incorrect and that organization and print bother me quite a lot.”  Steven moved his hands around speaking directly to you as you smiled and nodded along picking up every word he was saying. Or at least the best you could since you did find him handsome and now he was flexing his brain power for you which was equally as attractive. 

“Wow, well, I think I’ll be getting that one then.” You took two steps closer to him, taking your size on the hanger and putting it on your arm. 

“But it’s the worst shirt over here.” Steven looked at you bewildered at the concept of someone wanting a shirt knowing that it’s incorrect. 

“I’ve got three reasons, one because now anytime I wear it I can tell anyone who says anything about it that it’s wrong, two because it’s not wet and cold like this shirt, and three because I got to meet you today and it’ll remind me of you.” You smiled at him as he looked down at his feet, his face turning a shade of red. 

“Well uh I’m sure it’ll look lovely on you.” He didn’t realize what he had said was funny until he realized that he had just told you that a black men's cut t-shirt with emojis and hieroglyphics on it with an incorrect message would look good on you. 

“Can you take this to the counter for me? I’ve finally spotted a trash can to throw this cup away into.” You pointed with the cup towards the trashcan and Steven immediately jumped into action taking the shirt off your arm. 

“Of course, yeah.” As you walked to the trash can you saw all sorts of paper that people somehow missed the trash can trying to throw away. So, after discarding your cup you took time to pick up the mess and throw it away, knowing that if you didn’t Steven would probably have to do it later. 

Dusting your hands onto your already dirty shirt you walked back over to the counter where Steven was holding your shirt in a baggy. 

“How much do I owe you?” Before you could even reach into your back pocket to pull out your wallet Steven’s voice stopped you. 

“Nothing, I already paid for it.” Steven was smiling ear to ear proud of himself for doing such a thing and believing that it was the right thing to do. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” You smiled at him kindly before realizing you planned on writing your number down on the receipt and giving it to him so that you would avoid the awkward conversation of trying to give him your number. 

“I already ruined one shirt, the least I could do was replace it. Oh and assuming you would change here since that must be freezing by now I gave you a bag so you could put that shirt in it after you changed.” He pointed out both things as you took them from his hand. 

“I uhm, I’m gonna go change.” You had spent an entire 20 seconds just staring at each other because neither of you knew how to say what you wanted to to the other. 

“Yes you should! Bathrooms are just over there to the left.” You waved goodbye at him before going into the bathroom and locking yourself in a stall. As you changed your shirt you realized how icky taking off wet clothes was and how much you would regret it if you didn’t give Steven your number. It was very rare to run into someone as friendly as Steven, though there were reasonable bachelors around as far as looks went intellect and kindness were hard to find especially all three in one person. Slipping the new t-shirt on and throwing the other one in the bag you looked around, made sure you didn’t drop anything, and left the restroom. You decided that you would just have the awkward conversation with Steven, he was worth it. As you started to hype yourself up you heard your name very close to your ear before running directly into someone who was standing still. 

“You cannot be serious, I apologize I should’ve been watching where I was going.” You felt like Steven as you picked yourself up off the ground. 

“No, it’s okay you got me back.” You immediately perked up at who you thought was a stranger trying to help you up and make sure you were okay. 

“Steven?” You looked at him dead in the eyes and chuckled at the situation holding onto one of his arms as you got your footing back. 

“I really owe you a drink now.” He laughed with you as the two of you stood there in the museum in front of a bathroom. Yeah this was definitely going to be something good…

[suna-reversed]

Hello :)

Sukuna. fluff. Pretty please.

Could you write something about sukuna falling for itadori's best friend. You can throw some angst in there too because I am a masochist❤️

Sukuna x F! Reader 

oh god, this turned purely self indulgent halfway through. low key thinking of turning this into a series to give you the angst you deserve.

A/N: (reader is Itadori’s senior and is 18) (loosely inspired by the song “me and my husband” by mitski)

“And I am the idiot with the painted face

In the corner, taking up space

But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved”

——-

- You had been one of the few poor senior students who had been victim to what had been Itadori’s “elevator pitch” for more people to join the occult club early back in high school. [the said “elevator pitch” being him jumping out at random people with a white bedsheet over his head saying “boo” as he handed you the club form]

- You didn't end up joining the club. But you somehow did end up getting joined at the hip with the chaotic mess under the white sheet.

- Whether it was you two rushing to the theatre to watch Jennifer Lawrence’s new movie,  or going to a revolving sushi place [only to get pocky from a nearby vending machine instead because revolving sushi is apparently expensive], Itadori Yuuji had become a comforting and very important presence in your life.

- So of course when he suddenly dropped out of your life, being the worried friend you were, you decided to poke around a little only to find out that he was...dead?

- Maybe a few months down the line, you would’ve started to slightly recover from the tragic news you had just gotten. Instead, what you got was your supposedly dead best friend popping up days later to tell you that he ate a finger and now he was the vessel for some centuries old curse,,,

- Um yeah...safe to say that Yuji did not expect you to go into the fit of emotions that you did [boy had the audacity to call you dramatic for fainting and then crying while hugging him once you gained consciousness] 

- some time passed and Yuji and you didn’t see each other much with him practically training to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Still, simply happy to have him back alive, your brain managed to convinced itself that everything was still the same. 

- And it was when he’d sneak out a day or two from his heavy schedule and you’d be back to your normal routine of watching movies, stuffing your face with snacks, getting your face licked by the mouth on Yuji’s hand…

- ,,,wait what

- The first time the curse had made contact with you was simply out of annoyance of why the stupid brat even took the time to see someone as mundane as you so often.

- His plan was to simply scare you into leaving, knowing it would cause the brat pain.

- So he grabbed the opportunity when Yuji moved forward to brush off some popcorn dust on the side of your mouth, not only licking the side of your face but also being successful in slightly grazing his teeth against your tender skin. 

- Yuji had mentioned that being a vessel had caused some weird physical “abnormalities” for him. you didn’t understand it back then but at least knowing that had sort of prepared you for such an instance.

- So imagine the curse’s surprise [and an even further growing annoyance] when your eyes barely widened for a second before you burst into laugher, 

“Didn’t you train your dog to not bite?”

- by now, Yuji had jumped 5 feet away from you and was still halfway through his string of apologies, but upon hearing your reaction, he mused on your fake calm while letting out a chuckle himself, 

- “Guess I’ve got to get a leash for him” 

- By this point, the ever so indifferent curse had taken two teenagers talking about him like a mere annoyance as a personal challenge.

- And that’s how it started.

- He’d come out every now and then, licking your fingers as Yuji passed you something or making lewd remarks on anything and everything that you ever started a conversation about. 

- But you and Yuji barely paid him attention and it was an understatement to say that it infuriated the living hell out of him.

- Particularly you, who wouldn’t even be annoyed or sarcastic about his tactics anymore. Instead, treating him like a friend who was simply joining you and the brat to hang out. 

- He hated it. Hated how bright your laugh was. Hated how you made them stop every time you saw a stray animal just so you could pet it. Hated how your skin was as soft as a cloud and how you sometimes smelled like cherry blossoms. He’d kill you in an instant if he could ugh.

- it was a weekend and Yuji and you had been watching a movie, even though Yuji was barely paying attention. You knew he was tired as his large frame slumped over your shoulder. Pulling the blanket up to his face, you once again felt the wet feeling of the assaults you had grown familiar with on the side of your hand.

- “You could’ve just asked for a pocky if you wanted one, no need to lick it off my fingers you grumpy little thing”, you laughed as you stood up to go to the bathroom

- that snapped the final string. 

- Coming back into your living room, you wondered if Yuji had somehow gotten up in his sleep and managed to draw weird black lines over himself all in the span of 5 minutes. 

- ‘Yuji, what the fuck?’

- ‘Well well, now who’s acting like a grumpy little thing’ 

- The deep voice sent rumbles down your spine and you knew in an instant what had happened. 

- Even though your breath hitched in your throat and your body begged for you to run as fast away as you can, you held your ground as you simply tilted your head at the curse 

- “Well, I’d like my best friend back if you don’t mind.”

- You saw the smirk on Sukuna’s face falter for just a second before he crossed the space between the couch and you.

- Now as strong of a front as you managed to hold up until now, watching something like that stride straight towards you would have had even the strongest of sorcerers shitting bricks.

- Instinctively, you took a few steps backwards, but he simply continued to close the distance between the two of you until you were backed up against the wall.

- You flinched as he slammed a hand right next to your head and he seemed to gain immense satisfaction from that as he looked down at your startled face with a smirk plastered on his tattooed face. 

- Sukuna was sure that you’d be begging for his mercy any second now. His smirk widened and he was ready to mock your pleas as he saw you open your mouth to say something, 

- “ ...so much for a damn pocky.”

- All those other times you had caught the curse off guard were nothing compared to the “partially-confused partially-baffled” expression that he held on his face now. It almost made him look human. Almost.

- You didn’t realise just how long you were holding his gaze until Yuji took back control and apologized like a million times over, reassuring you that he would’ve never let you get hurt. 

- The curse didn’t show up for almost a week after that. And while you were grateful for not having to wash off your hands or face 14 times a day, you somehow felt anxious about its sudden disappearance. 

- All those worries were thrown out the window as he once again showed up while Yuji was passed out on the couch after a particularly tough session with Gojo sensei.

- Looking at the curse, you felt anger more than anything, how could he just drop out on you with no warning and then show up in the middle of your living room- ...wait a second, why the hell are you mad at a literal curse for not telling you he was taking a mental health break or whatever it was that he was doing? 

- While you sorted out through these conflicting thoughts in your mind, the curse seemed to be going through a similar crisis. 

- Having woken up in the brat’s fragile human body with no warning whatsoever, Sukuna wasn’t in the mood to see your face so soon again. He didn’t know why your physical presence unsettled him so much. All he knew was that he hated it. Even more now that he knew what you looked like all scared and small compared to his vessel’s towering build, and how you smelled even sweeter than what he had tasted, and how despite all that you still had the courage to stand up to someone as dangerous as him. Ugh, disgusting. 

- “The stupid brat passed out.”

- Such a simple statement caused you to snap your head up at him. But he didn’t wait for your reaction as he somehow managed to plop down on the couch while still looking graceful. Picking up the half eaten box of pocky, he warily pulled one out, eyeing it as if it was  a poisoned dagger before breaking off a piece and placing it on his tongue.

- “This is what you would risk your life for, brat?” 

- He turned his head slightly to look at you still frozen in place, staring at him with that doe eyed look that made his chest burn a little. Isn’t this what he wanted all along?

- “Are you simply going to stand there and gawk? I don’t bite-...well, not unless you ask me to.”

- He knew that would set you right back to your usual self,

 - “...maybe we do need to get a leash after all.”

- Sukuna internally grinned as he saw you move to the other side of the couch, ready to hear whatever more of the snarky comeback that you’d have (not that he was anticipating it, it was just the better alternative to being gaped at. Or so he told himself)

- “You ate the non chocolate covered part of the pocky by the way-”

- “As if a layer of this disgusting brown substance can make the rotten stick taste bette-”

- “Well aren’t sticks all you had to eat in yOuR TiME anyways?”- 

—-

- You somehow managed to fall asleep after the bickering, proceeding to sit in silence after you told him to not bother you while you tried to read. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were a little disappointed when he actually didn’t. Instead, he sat on the couch with a slight smirk still plastered on his face, continuing to simply gaze at you. your heart did lunges every time you slyly looked up from your book to take a peak at him. you wondered how many ways he had come up with to kill you so far. 

- On the other hand, the curse sat idly, watching you while his thoughts rumbled in his mind. Maybe killing you can be pushed off the agenda for now. There are much better ways to hurt the brat anyways aren't there? Perhaps he could use one of these brownish covered sticks to-...what is he thinking?

- He ultimately deems it stupid brat’s humane emotions and sheer stupidity that must be interfering with his thoughts.

- A loud sneeze snaps him out of his daze as he sees you slumped against a pillow, your book falling off your lap. And then he does something that he immediately decides that he would pretend to have not done for the rest of his existence. Luckily, the brat takes back control right after he does it anyways.

- But that thought slips his mind as he finds himself replaying the serene look on your face as he gently pulled the book out of your hands, and how his hands shook a little as you nuzzled your nose into the fabric of the blanket that he pulled over you. How could you have felt so calm around him?

[hyunverse]

more than friends | gojo satoru

✧ part two for friendzoned

✧ gender neutral

✧ genre; fluff

✧ requested by anon(s)

✧ note. i swear i'll put a "read more" line later. i'm on mobile rn 🗿

gojo satoru is late again. he arrives at jujutsu tech an hour late, a result of him stopping by a few shops to buy sweets. he could've teleported but for petty reasons, he didn't. "could use some fresh air", he'd reason.

you're standing by the field, monitoring your students' activities. you laugh as panda spin nobara around in the air, inumaki running after her flying body. they're currently hard at work, practising for the school event.

at the sight of you, gojo's reminded of your confession to him. he gulps, hoping the bitter taste on his tongue will subside. but it doesn't. the bitterness— harsher than the taste of dark coffee, doesn't leave his tongue. he hates that.

"they're working quite hard", gojo says, casually. as if acting like he's fine would somehow make things fine.

"yeah", you reply, doing the same thing he's doing. acting like the confession didn't happen. maybe if you tried hard enough it'll be like you didn't pour out your feelings at all.

gojo watches as you laugh at inumaki yelling "tuna, tuna" at the top of his lungs, chasing after nobara. he notices the way your eyes shine while you laugh and how you don't even try to hold back your giggles. gojo finds them cute. he wonders why he hasn't noticed those small details before. a voice in him screams, "it's because you're always saying you're attractive, you never notice others' physicals", making gojo frown. that's partially true and he doesn't like that.

"hey, we should get lunch after this", you interupt his thoughts.

the sorcerer looks up. looking into yours eyes, he tries to search for any sign of sadness, awkwardness— anything that'll show how you're affected by his rejection but he couldn't find any. shouldn't he be happy that you're okay? he knows he should, but something inside of him feels dissapointed.

"yeah, my treat".

six times. gojo had glanced at you six times now, all in a span of an hour. the fact that he even counted shows just how self conscious he's feeling at the moment.

you're twisting noodles around your fork, vegetables abandoned at the side of your plate. gojo, sitting right in front of you eats his mochi quietly. an abnormal silence— the man usually always has something to say. you don't complain though, you needed some silence after hours of training your students.

"hey, look at this video", you break the silence, sliding your phone across the table for him to see. hands on the table, your pinky grazes against his. like it's a reflex, you pull away your pinky, leaving gojo even more confused.

the skin contact between you went by so quick, gojo's mind starts to imagine. a picture of you holding his hand pops up in his mind, and he feels goosebumps all over his body. but the memory of you flinching and pulling your fingertips away knocks out all the images out of his head.

they're acting like i'm poisonous, gojo monologues. he watches from the side of his eyes as you put your hands down under the table, tapping your fingers against the wooden table. gojo pushes your phone back to you.

"let's go", he gets up, and you do too. he holds his arm up to you— a muscle memory. he always does that, it's been a platonic thing all these years.

unlike always, you don't link your arms with his.

day by day, gojo starts to understand his feelings. he had realized that they aren't platonic, but he only realized just how intense his feelings are one day at a meeting.

yaga sits at the edge of the table, scanning the reports in hand. you sit between nanami and gojo, legs crossed.

you've always been a professional shaman. you get shit done and you smile at your coworkers. you have fun, and you're dedicated to your work. "classic lovely y/n", people would say everytime one brings up your amazing mannerisms.

gojo knowing you for years is no stranger to those compliments. however, he draws a line when the "compliments" sound like flirting.

"you're a lovely individual, i'd love to work with you someday", nanami utters, before turning his attention back to yaga. gojo can see the blush creeping up your cheeks, and your fingers fiddling with your top.

"flirting in work now, nanami?", gojo wastes no time to call the male out. nanami looks at the sorcerer, an eyebrow raised.

"it's just a small compliment".

gojo grits his teeth. then why does the small compliment irks him so much?

nothing annoys you more than people ringing your door bell when you're sleeping, not even stubborn curses. still in your pajamas you somehow make it to your door (by somehow, you'd stubbed your toe against a furniture and you walked while holding the wall).

"y/n", a drunk gojo slurs. you rub the sleepiness out of your eyes, inviting him in once you've established that it really is gojo.

gojo walks into your house, crashing right onto your couch. the couch you used to watch movies with him on, sharing laughters and screams together. one time you watched the conjuring with gojo, he spent the whole time during the introduction bragging over how he wouldn't be scared but he'd literally jump at the slightest scary things.

"why are you drunk at 3 am, satoru?", you ask, tossing a mineral bottle his way, "sober up".

he groans and tosses the bottle away, leaning his messy head against the burgundy couch. the leather couch lessens the heat he's feeling on his body.

you chuckle before sitting beside him, closing your eyes shut, too lazy to get into bed. you managed to dodge any private interactions with him for the past few months but since he's knocked out, it should be okay, right? plus it's been so long, you're sure (sort of) he had forgotten about your confession.

gojo suddenly hums a song softly, a song you couldn't quite recognize. he pulls your arm and links it with his.

"you're so beautiful", he says. flat out. just those words. knocking oxygen out of your soul.

"satoru?"

"mhm. so pretty", he says again, making you look up at him to see him looking at you. there are some red hues in his eyes, clearly showing the fact that he's drunk.

that's why you're shocked; gojo satoru is an honest drunk. whatever that comes out of his mouth when he's drunk are truths.

"you think so?", you take advantage of his state. a nod of his head causes your heart to blossom.

"yeah like, i like you a lot. because you're like... really cute. especially when you smile. i really, really want to be more than friends".