#and people will find a way to get offended rather than just read and understand

[theblackqueen-ofmyheart]

Y’know it’s really frustrating to see those “people only cared about XYZ when it hit home for them and therefore they are bad people” posts

Like yeah, I get it. I’ve been the one saying it before. But then I realized that unfortunately for a lot of people, especially in the western world, if it’s not happening to them or to people they know a lot of people either don’t realize something is happening or don’t realize how bad it actually is. Everyone’s lives are busy, too many people are just trying to make it to the next day. They can’t pay attention to everything that’s going on in the world.

And yes it’s frustrating and annoying. But I can pretty much guarantee you’ve been that person before. You’ve probably not realized something was going on or how bad it was simply because it didn’t affect you. Getting upset that people don’t realize until whatever issue finally hits home for them is fair but you also have to remember you have been that person and sometimes all someone needs to realize is some added information.

If they continue to ignore the issue or pretend it’s not awful after they’ve been told, then by all means. Call them out, make a fuss, get mad. But until then it’s probably a better tactic to approach with some faith they just don’t know because then maybe you can help them learn and do more good than just getting mad. After all, no one is going to want to help someone who was screaming at them over something they didn’t know about. But they’d be much more willing to help someone who informed them of the situation without anger.

[wordsvomit101]

I would put him as a "sad old man" on my contact list if I were MC.

Sometimes I gotta be a bit petty for MC cause they don't do it for themself. Credits to @shyanimeboi and their friend on X: https://x.com/shyanimeboi/status/1795183592961655077/video/4

Warnings: Sexual content, complicated brainstorming about guilt and legacy.

Of course, you would say that- No but honestly, I would be pissed as hell if he said that to me directly, cause sir your brother lowkey put MC's parent on the news, made their friend see his ancestor temporarily, and then almost put them in the casket as well. It's a miracle that they do not blindly hate everything relating to angels at this point. (Although I'm glad that you at least find closure from it you dismal oldster ╮(─_─)╭)

It's a little heartwarming that he shows that he still loves his brothers a lot, given how he said: "traces that Gabriel is alive and well". It got me thinking about how it could very likely mean that he believes at some point in the future, either the other kings kill his brothers or Lucifer will have to choose between Hell (repentance) and his love for them when put in a corner he cannot back out, and with him being the Sin of Pride, I don't think he would either.

Also, if he is happy just by seeing the brand alone then his brothers either avoid attacking Paradise Lost personally or he didn't face them directly after he told off Michael more than 100 years ago and he did say that he "can no longer meet to ask how he is doing".

This first option seems like something Solomon would say. As his descendant, how MC presents themself in the daily chats and some of their options are probably the closest we get to see how Solomon would act when he was still around. An example would be how they question the goofy 3 rules policy in Paradise Lost that was set by the nobles, I will admit, I didn't think of that either. I was affected by the devoted behaviors of the nobles from both the event and the beginning of the prologue, in turn, I put Lucifer on an unreachable pedestal and I love that MC boldly questioned it and presented their opinions and rationale that bring Lucifer closer to the player and shows more air-headed sides to the nobles. They bring new perspectives and challenge the assumptions albeit in a small but significant way. I love it, I hope they do it more in the future.

He also finally said it, the holy words of every prideful bastard I know on media, "How dare you", it took 4 chats but we finally got here.

How he process his brothers' wrongdoings and his own? Very understandable and something, in my opinion, most victims would rather want to get from their offenders' family members, acceptance and acknowledgment of the issues and the damage that was done, and a genuine effort to do the right things. Familial love is very complicated, and it is… difficult to hate and condemn someone you come to love first naturally in your life. I think Lucifer, besides God (but also not really), first loves his brothers, probably the first angel to do so for their kind, and by reading the Seraphs��� comics it clearly shows how they either don’t care or hate each other guts yet still capable of loving Lucifer. He raised them, he's both their brother and their second parental figure, and he show them love outside of their devotion to God.

And how he addresses them in the chat, he calls each one of them a "child", he was being very quietly affectionate by focuses on their well-being when he saw the brand on MC. He also only does this with them and Gamigin, so it is clear how he sees them from a caretaker standpoint (the allegation of him being born in his 30s and raising his brothers is not so far-fetched now, honestly, he is the true dilf here, not God). He knows his brothers ruining other people's lives but when they turn around and love and treat him so dearly that it can feel like what they have done to others is an illusion.

When that illusion doesn't cloud his judgment and beliefs anymore? It will hurt and it can feel like his perception of his brothers are lie. It can be easy to deny the first time but since it happens again and again he has to accept the change and it ain't gonna feel great to realize how he is not the bystander here and directly or indirectly enable his brothers' atrocities (maybe join them in it too at some point, but this is just my thoughts). It gonna rewire how he views a lot of things and it gonna run back from the beginning to the current time, and with how long Lucifer lived? That's rough buddy.

Now, humans are insignificant in these guys' eyes and a single death is nothing to them in the vast universe, yes, but like Lucifer said, God made humans and with how he said it after that, humanity is a part of God's legacy. Legacy is fundamental to what it is to be human to many, something to be carved on their graves and will at the end of their time, it also helps people who live beyond them to remember and let their spirits or unconscious presence remain on the world. So despite humanity in the grand scheme of things, humans are still the work of God. By referring to God as "Our Father," besides asserting his connection, he also indirectly extends that connection to humans. It suggests a shared lineage and inherent value in all of God's creations.

If I interpret what Lucifer said correctly, then the duty of the Seraphim has always been to protect and care for all beings created by God, ensuring the preservation of His legacy. This duty encompasses all creations, whether great or small, beautiful or flawed. To destroy these creations and leave only themselves as His legacy would be a betrayal of their responsibility. A legacy, regardless of its nature, is not to be forcefully erased. Those who seek to erase it tarnish the very legacy they are meant to safeguard and were entrusted to honor.

So if they can't even accept all of God's legacy, no wonder why they can easily go hunt down every single child of one (1) man they are jealous of. Perhaps this is my speculation on what they did with Solomon, who seemed resigned to being forgotten by the devils in chapter 5. They sought to erase his entire bloodline, his descendants, and his legacy, ultimately aiming to make him extinct from the world (like how poachers do it toward endangered animals). For someone like Solomon, this, in my opinion, could be the most terrible fate for him. I honestly wouldn't put it past God's plan to make MC a part of this war for Solomon.

This option is more like the canon MC than the Solomon option from before. They felt more personal here in their anger.

The desensitization for guilt and emotional detachment is strong in this. Lucifer acknowledges the gravity and permanence of the sins he and his brothers have committed and accepts that he must coexist with his guilt and remorse, but how he goes around with it is mostly for himself. Lucifer mentions that he "voluntarily fell to Hell", a form of self-punishment despite his brothers' protests (but also calling Hell the starting point of sadness is wild cause honestly? Not that wrong, I can't see truly happy devils, and if there is, their development happened off-screen).

Lucifer’s remark that the MC is "not that meaningful enough yet" is his emotional detachment from others. His focus remains on his own internal experiences rather than on the perspectives or forgiveness of others. This detachment suggests that his pursuit of guilt is inward-focused, rather than being about seeking forgiveness or redemption through the eyes of others. Selfish and very prideful, very fitting for the Sin of Pride. The idea that Lucifer is almost addicted to the feeling of guilt points to a self-destructive aspect of his personality. It indicates that he may be using guilt as a way to continually punish himself or a way to keep feeling alive through suffering.

Now this leads to my next point:

Lucifer's search for guilt and remorse indicates a need for intense emotional experiences. Witnessing someone cry, especially if he has caused the tears, could provide a powerful emotional release or catharsis for him. This could momentarily alleviate his own feelings of guilt by transferring some of that emotional burden onto others.

Control. By inducing tears in others, he might be exerting a form of control that he lacks in his own life. This dynamic could satisfy a deep-seated need to reclaim some semblance of power over emotional outcomes.

Witnessing tears might serve as a mirror to his own inner turmoil. It externalizes the pain and suffering he feels internally, allowing him to confront it more tangibly. This externalization can create a twisted sense of connection or empathy, aligning with his need to constantly grapple with guilt.

Lucifer's enjoyment of seeing others cry could be intertwined with his own cycle of punishment and redemption. Inflicting emotional pain might be a way for him to project his self-loathing and need for atonement onto others. It creates a scenario where he can experience the aftermath of guilt without direct self-harm.

Causing others to cry could validate Lucifer's sense of guilt and reinforce his belief that he is deserving of punishment. This validation can be perversely satisfying, as it confirms his self-perception as someone who commits unforgivable sins.

Tears are often a sign of vulnerability. Seeing someone in a state of emotional rawness might create a sense of intimacy that Lucifer finds alluring. This intimacy could particularly appeal to someone who feels isolated by guilt and sins.

[feasibilities]

Professional Perversions- Dr. Jonathan Crane x Psychiatrist!Reader ♟️

Warnings: Blackmail, Non-Con, Workplace Harassment, Degradation, Stalking, Dacryphilia, Oral Sex (F), Slapping, Overstimulation, etc. Author's Note: Jonathan is a villain so I wrote him as such. Read at your own risk!

Working at Arkham Asylum for the last 5 years meant that you worked with the criminally insane daily. You were a listening ear to the sadistic fantasies or childhood trauma of your patients. You also prescribed medication that they never bothered to take. More often than not, your patients were repeat offenders who were discharged far too early. You couldn’t understand why this kept happening and recommended institutionalizing them for longer periods. Your complaints fell on deaf, unsympathetic ears. Such is the nature of working for the state. You were at the mercy of bureaucracy. 

Your supervisor, Dr. Jonathan Crane, seemed to enjoy compounding the stress of your job. He was Chief Administrator of the asylum, so there was no way to bypass his antagonistic behavior. He would often assign you with assessing difficult, violent patients. Your medical notes on these assessments came back with harsh criticisms in red ink. He would never answer calls or emails from you, so you’d have to chase him down while he was doing his daily walkthrough. During weekly meetings, he would chastise you in front of your colleagues. It was the little things as well. He’d let the elevator doors close on you or reject your attempts to make small talk. Your days ended later than everyone else’s—and with you sobbing in your car. 

— 

Please come to my office as soon as possible. We have some important matters to discuss. 

Dr. Jonathan Crane 

Chief Administrator of Arkham Asylum 

555-9240

Dread pooled in your stomach as you read the email. What could you have done? Naturally, you assumed the worst—you were about to be fired. Being terminated from a government job would mean you couldn’t get hired anywhere else in Gotham. Jonathan obviously wouldn’t put in a good word for a prospective position. Wanting to get this over with quickly, you made your way to his office. Knocking politely, he answered you from behind the door with the gold-plated sign that read ‘Chief Administrator’.

“Come in.” He said plainly. 

You came in and looked around briefly. His office was luxurious compared to yours. His Ph.D degree hung on the wall above a mahogany shelf of awards and plaques. The chairs were plush and made of leather. The whiteboard was filled with equations that made no sense to you, adding to your feelings of inadequacy. 

“If you’re done gawking at my accomplishments, please take a seat.” Jonathan criticized. You quickly sat down and sighed in annoyance.  

“As you know, I have had some concerns about your competency regarding this job. Your patients haven’t shown any progress. They also continue to report suicidal or homicidal tendencies.” Jonathan admonished you, waiting for a response. 

“My competency is not the issue, but rather the competency of my superiors. Patients can’t progress if you discharge them prematurely. These people need help reintegrating into society. You cannot just throw them out onto the street.” You retorted, growing frustrated already. 

Jonathan’s eyes focused on you intently. You saw a faint smirk flash across his face before retreating back into the same sterile expression. 

“I follow the orders of my superiors. You can submit a complaint if you are dissatisfied with our procedures.” Jonathan countered. 

“As do I. I’ve submitted several complaints and nothing has come of them. You find the time to punish me for the smallest mistakes, but you couldn’t find the time to consider my input? Your competence, or lack thereof, is the reason why this hospital has the highest recidivism rate in the city.” You argued. 

Jonathan swallowed harshly and clenched his jaw. His stark blue eyes were filled with hatred. For you, this was payback for all the times he lambasted you. It was humorous that someone who was so critical of others couldn’t handle it when the shoe was on the other foot. You also had no problem filing a lawsuit for wrongful termination as you had a paper trail on him. You feared him no longer. 

Removing his wireframe glasses, he walked to the front of the desk and stood over you. Uncomfortably close, he stared down at you.

“Fear is such a fascinating feeling, isn’t it? You know that better than anyone.” He teased.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat, growing tired of his odd behavior. 

“Every mental health professional that works here is required to undergo a psychiatric evaluation. You were asked what your biggest fear was—are you afraid of being stalked?” Jonathan explained, leaning in even closer. 

Sick to your stomach, you turned away from him and tears brimmed your eyes. He grabbed your chin and forced your gaze towards him. 

“Isn’t it so sick that someone knows your morning and nightly routine? Your favorite perfume? The kind of panties you’re wearing right now?” Jonathan remarked, getting off on your distress. 

You could’ve died of humiliation as you stared up at him. You finally understood why he treated you so poorly—it was a front to hide his obsession with you. During those contentious moments, he wasn’t thinking of how “incompetent” you were. Obscene images of you bent over his desk or you touching yourself in the shower were there. To his benefit, he caught you in the shower one night when you left the shades open. You realized why you found a soiled handkerchief in the bushes the next morning. 

“Why me? What could I possibly do for you?” You croaked, trying not to provoke him. 

“Everything I could ever want.” Jonathan divulged, brushing his thumb against your lips and smudging your lipstick. 

You started thinking of your escape plan. Maybe kick him in the balls and run? Stab him with one of his expensive pens? Before you could take action, he bent down and kissed you deeply. You tried to pull him away, but to no avail. His plump lips caused that familiar twinge in your lower stomach. He ran his large hands up your stocking-covered legs before stopping at your garter belts. He kneaded the exposed flesh there, earning an unintended whimper from you. This emboldened him as he moved his lips to your neck. 

“T-this isn’t right.” You sputtered as you tried to ignore the moisture between your legs. 

“You want this. You always have.” He whispered, moving his hand up further. Your body’s response to his actions made you question your sanity. Jonathan suddenly pulled you up from the chair and laid you on his desk. He undid your garter belts with an almost surgical precision. Hiking up your dress, he stared at the black lacy panties that adorned your cunt. He pulled the material aside and studied the glistening of your arousal. You had the perfect opportunity to claw his eyes out and bolt out of the office. However, you sat there wanting him to finish what he started. 

Jonathan ran his nose down your thigh as he took in your scent. Sliding the lacy material aside once more, he began flicking his tongue against your sensitive floret. Not being able to look away, you took in the visual of your despicable supervisor going down on you. His gaze was no longer sterile—it took on a marked concupiscence. Suddenly, you felt him press his face into you. He sucked harshly, causing you to moan loudly. He buried his nose in the trimmed tuft of your pubic hair. 

“Stop it.” You pled, knowing you wanted the opposite. 

Disregarding your objections, he slipped two fingers inside of you and curled them upwards. Pumping his fingers steadily, another low groan came from him as he reveled in the sapidity of your juices. You yanked at his hair to stop him before you came. You were much too late. You let out an untamed moan as Jonathan watched you fall apart. Your vision went white as your orgasm sent shockwaves through your body. He lazily lapped at your clit as you came down from your high. Removing his fingers, he put them in your mouth. You mindlessly suckled on them. 

“The human mind is so malleable, isn’t it?” Jonathan said. Your humiliation ran deep at his words. You were like putty in his hands and you resented it. He began removing your dress while you looked away from him. Tears started to fall from your eyes as you knew what was to come. Jonathan groped your breasts through your bra and placed your hand on his clothed crotch. His erection was beginning to hurt as he had it since you walked in his office. You felt him throb in your palm. 

“You look so beautiful when you cry. All those times you spent sobbing in your car really did something to me…” Jonathan divulged, undoing your bra and taking in the sight. 

“You don’t have to do this. Just fire me, please.” You agonized. 

“Shhh.” Jonathan hushed you. 

“Don’t hush me. I’m not a child.” You complained. 

Jonathan took a ball gag from his pocket and put it on you. Laying you back on the desk, Jonathan yanked your hips towards him until you were flush against his. Unbuckling his pants, he pulled himself out and sighed in relief. Pre-ejaculate oozed from the tip and he was red hot to the touch. You were astonished at his size. You blinked away tears thinking of the pain you were about to experience. You tried to scoot away before he snatched you back. Growing tired of your insolence, he slapped you roughly. 

“Behave.” Jonathan warned. A searing burn was left on your cheek. Sliding into you, he started thrusting with bestial force. Your breasts moved with each thrust as Jonathan lost himself in your pink depths. Wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible, you decided to play his game. You started rubbing your clit fervently and trying to moan his name through the gag. Noticing your reaction, Jonathan pinched your nipple harshly and deepened his thrusts. You mewled at the sensation. 

“This is all you wanted, didn’t you? A good screwing?” Jonathan hissed, watching white slick cover his shaft. You nodded and breathed heavily as you came once more. Skin hitting skin, the squelch of your arousal, and your desperate whimpers were like music to his ears. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny how gorgeous a fucked-out Jonathan looked. His face was twisted in pleasure, eyes fluttering closed occasionally. His taut lips pursed intermittently to hold back moans. 

His thrusts started to stagger as he approached his climax. Pulling out, ropes of seed shot onto your torso. An audible groan of pleasure finally left his throat. He made sure to smear droplets of it against your entrance. You recoiled at the thought of getting pregnant by him. He would have you forever. 

“Let’s savor this moment, shall we?” Jonathan smiled, pulling out his phone. Tears welled up in your eyes as he snapped pictures of your body. Holding your throat tenderly, he took one last photo of your face. Those pictures would be kept for his personal collection—and for blackmail if you ever decided to quit. You painstakingly got dressed and bit your lip to hold back sobs. A silent exchange of glances happened between you and Jonathan before you walked out of his office. 

[coffeegnomee]

for the inevitable day I can be proven wrong, I just want to say just how many times I think Kab and Mane are secretly working together and I get really convinced it all makes sense and if she is as good of an actor as she insists then this is just not a crazy take at all.

But then I remember what she says on her streams and I remember I have zero belief that that could be true in the slightest.

But then something like Hannah conveniently being logged out right above the claymore and becoming the perfect scapegoat for how mane found it, or the signs that mane could have found it himself covers up the concept of a mole on the team. How much it reminds me of what spoke was like in the s3 finale. How much it's in the little moments that expose a liar regardless of what they say.

How zam literally gave her the example of working with mapicc to kill pangi and how that showed how dedicated he was to him getting the mapicc kill. How convenient it is for her if the claymore fails so she can be the one to kill mane. How easy it would be dm mane that. and mane can take care of covering for her by saying he found it. how i definitely believe he would be intrigued and pleased with the possibility of a story like that.

how much mane targets her and how easy of a justification that is for her to infiltrate the opposition. How incredibly offended she gets when anyone implies this isn't her kill, while she stays to the side making other's plans come to light.

How much she insists on knowing all of zam's plans. always asking questions.

how much she insists that she cares about zam but has also said multiple times she wants to do a crazy arc on zam. the two can be true because they do care about each other outside of the server.

how she picked mane's iron farm for the conversation with bacon way back when. How she flew off to mane's lag machine area when talking to woogie. How coincidental that of all the places it was two manepear locations in the same week. How much i believe that that is the kind of audacity that kab would love to write into a story.

I just can't shake the Jumper paranoia since s5. How convincing jumper was for being a part of the team. How there were clear points of her being a traitor that got so completely brushed under the rug with easy excuses from her. How easily Spoke s3 got in on zam's team without trying because zam was willing to trust him instantaneously because they once shared views. Zam did all the heavy lifting for making Spoke not look sus, spoke just had to go along for the ride and make tiny silly mistakes that implicated every other member of the server while systematically leading to clown finding the bases himself.

But then i remember Kab is simply always happy when something benefits her, and so not being upset in the slightest over mapicc's claymore not working is so much easier explained as her just being happy her plan can work. Rather than already knowing it was never going to work.

And then I remember how afraid she gets about doing a plan and how much she overthinks before doing it. How much it feels like she's a bad actor when she turns on the acting, so it feels like she's just not good at acting. But what if she isn't.

The possibility is so low and yet the examples are there.

Because she's either the worst manipulator in the world and cannot read people and has only succeeded due to the shortness of other servers, or she holds out for the long con and can handle lying over a very long period of time and covering it by talking about her random other plans as cover for the long term, and she's lying to chat as well in every moment she is streaming. Which is a mind fuck I was not prepared for.

Because you don't need to actually characterize people well in order to manipulate them. You just need to understand yourself. And you just need to craft a narrative that makes enough sense for others to fill in the gaps.

but that's just a conspiracy. one that blossoms in every zam stream and dies in every kab stream. Hopefully I'm wrong but either way we'll know at the end of the season.

[ihavethedreamies]

Pool Boy (3) | Soobin

Choi Soobin - TXT

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.4k >_>

Pairing: Soobin x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Porn with very little Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Small Age Difference (Unspecified, he calls her Noona), Pet Names (Sweet, Noona, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! and M! Receiving), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Spanking, Big Dick! Soobin, Cockbulge (slightly), Semi-Public Sex (at work but no one else is there), Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! She's on the pill)

Summary: Soobin finds you cleaning the bathroom after everyone leaves the pool at night then utterly destroys you in the best way possible.

Author's Note: This originally was going to be part of a really long series with a lot of plot, but it was taking too long and I was putting too much plot, more than I had initially planned. Because of that, I cut nearly all plot out and it's still four-thousands words of just fucking so…

Also…this was a dream I had…This whole series has been somewhat, but this is the only part that is straight from the dream, the others I got more specific because I don't remember the details as well as this.

Disclaimer: I do have the whole cock-bulge thing in this. I understand this could be a bit offensive to some who are on the heavier side (I am in that group as well). Sorry if this doesn't align with your body type, this is just a work of fiction.

None of the parts are reliant on the others, there is just a version for each boy.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Yeonjun <-

-> Taehyun <-

-> Hueningkai <-

-> Beomgyu <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Hey, why don't you come hang out with us?" A girl came up to Soobin where he sat at the bar. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and you noticed he stiffened, and you watched closely what she did next.

"No, sorry, I'm working." He tried to shrug her hand off, but she just wrapped both around his bicep instead.

"You don't have to drink~" You glared at where she was holding him. You had no right really to be jealous, you two were just friends who flirted…a lot.

"I would really rather not." He was being polite, but you could see he was uncomfortable.

"Please?" She cooed, batting her eyelashes and you rolled your eyes. She caught it and scoffed.

"You should get that cough checked out." You shot at her, and Soobin turned his head to cover his smirk. She sneered harder and you could tell she thought she was prettier than you just because her tits were nearly popping out of her bikini top, and she had her hair dyed blonde.

"What, you aren't his girlfriend." The girl mocked, like she would know that anyway.

"Why do you think that?"

"One of you would have said something."

"Well, unfortunately for you, tonight I get to get railed by him and you don't." you whispered to her, and she huffed in disbelief, offended.

"Oh yeah, you really think I believe that?" You weren't sure if Soobin had heard your comment to her or not.

"She's not my girlfriend, but that's just for now." Soobin gave you a look, much more fire there than you had seen in his eyes before. This tipped her over the edge, and she stormed away. You were left to yourselves that time and you both chuckled.

"I get to rail you, huh?" His voice was confident, and his stare was sharp, it made your cunt pulse.

"Oh, I uh…" You gave him a coquettish look.

"If I get permission." He smirked and you huffed.

You continued to run the drink bar and Soobin had come around to help at the snack bar and so you weren't able to continue flirting much. As it was getting to be time for people to leave, you heard a loud engine coming and saw a bus come to pick up the group renting the pool that night.

"Did anyone throw up?" you asked a girl as she slumped into a chair at the bar.

"No, thank the Lord. Do we have to clean?"

"Not really. I'll check stuff over, but the professional cleaners come every Sunday, so they can do it." you told her, and she sighed in relief. The rest of the workers did some basic cleanup, and you went to check the restrooms. They were surprisingly clean, and you were told the boys’ was clean as well. That was even more shocking, but you were grateful. The only thing you had noticed was in one of the private solo bathrooms, there was some blood in the sink. Now that you saw it you remembered seeing a girl had gotten a nosebleed, so you assumed that was the cause. Heading back into the shelter, you went to the back room to get some cleaner and waved as most of the employees left for the night. As you were cleaning, you left the door propped open and you heard someone in the distance.

"I think she is cleaning in one of the bathrooms!" They answered another's question and then you heard then louder as they passed the door.

"She's in this one!" A guy shouted and then you heard the gate open and close as he left. You assumed he was talking to Soobin since he was the last one to leave. Not paying too much attention as you scrubbed and disinfected, the door slid all the way open and you heard the wooden door stop scramble across the tiled floor, the door then thumping shut. Out of your periphery you saw Soobin come up behind you in the mirror. You were curious what he was going to do. You slowed your task down to give him more time and you glanced up, eyes meeting through the reflection.

"What can I do?" he asked, and you knew he wasn't trying to help clean.

"How about whatever you want, and I'll stop you if I don't agree?" You suggested turning the faucet on so you could rinse out the magic sponge you were using. Soobin huffed in amusement, "Hope you can keep up. I don't get tired easily…" and you furrowed your brow when he slinked out of sight behind you.

You caught yourself on the counter in shock when you felt his big hands on your hips, his thumbs hooking into your belt loops.

"S-Soobin?"

"This okay?"

"Y-yes." You weren’t sure what he was planning but you had an idea. Since your shorts were so tight and it was so hot, you had foregone any underwear that day.

"You smell good, noona." He muttered and you yelped when he buried his face into your denim covered cunt. You sighed when his tongue ran over the fabric and you were sure that despite the thick material, you were probably soaking through it. Then, something hit you. Yes you had showered after, but…

"S-Soobin, I uh…" You heard him shuffle on the floor and he kissed your lower back above the hem of your shorts, your top had risen up as you leaned forward.

"Wearing panties?" He guessed; his tone amused.

"No…just shorts. It's because it's hot and they're tight-!"

"They're coming off." he announced and reached around to unbutton your jeans, his nose burying back into your cunt. You whimpered as he removed your shorts, and he sat back so he could pull them off your legs and you slipped your sandals off as well.

"So wet, sweet girl." Soobin cooed, his thumb stroking through your folds.

"Soobin~" You keened, your fingers trying to dig into the hard countertop. You heard him chuckle and his other thumb came up as well and he spread your pussy open. Your face heated, embarrassed to be stared at like that. Your hips bumped into the counter hard when you jolted forward, his tongue had flicked at your clit. Soobin groaned and licked up from your still swollen clit to your quivering entrance and went to town. His tongue was long like the rest of him, and it went way farther into your cunt that you thought it would. You whined; his pace didn't allow you a second of reprieve.

"Ah!" You yelped, slamming your hand over your mouth when the noise echoed around the restroom. You knew that no one else was there, but it was still loud. His arms had wrapped around your thighs, holding your soaking cunt to his face as he drank from you. Grateful for his arms, your legs weakened and quivered from his actions. Your moans increased in pitch as your orgasm got closer and you fell over the edge as he filled you with his long finger and sucked hard on your clit.

"Fuck~!" You moaned long and high as you came, and he sucked up every drop that fell from your cunt. When your walls had stopped clenching his finger, he finally pulled away and you slumped onto your arms on the counter, gasping for breath. You watched him in the mirror as he stood, licking your juices from his fingers like it was ice cream that had dripped onto his hand.

"You are so fucking delicious." He murmured low and you gaped at him over your shoulder. As you recovered, you watched with rapt attention as he removed his gray striped t-shirt and let it fall to the floor. He was beautiful. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs. When you got to his red trunks, you saw the tent his hard on was setting and you nearly choked. He was hung like a horse, his friends were right, and you still hadn't seen his dick out yet. Time slowed down, and your mouth watered as you watched him finally remove his last garment.

"Oh, my, god." You moaned and he huffed, a smug look on his face.

"Wanna taste?" he asked, and you nodded aggressively. He tilted his head, and you scrambled off the counter and onto your knees in front of him. Soobin thought you looked like a puppy begging for a treat.

"Well, come here then." He stroked his big hand over his big cock, and you scooched forward on your knees over the cool tile. With a whine, you licked the drop of precum from his tip and you whimpered, taking the head in your mouth. He sighed at the feeling and your jaw hurt from the stretch, but GAWD was it worth it. As you took him in deeper, he wasn't even halfway in your mouth when he hit the back of your mouth. Swallowing a few times, you took him deeper, and his rumbling groan echoed off the tile walls. After his whole cock was buried in your throat, you gagged a few times despite your practiced control. He was going to split you in half. Beginning to move your head, you wrapped your hand around the base so you could stroke over the part of him your mouth couldn't hold. Every so often, you would swallow and let him cut your air off, your nose hitting his pelvis. The feeling of your breathing being restricted made your head swim for several reasons and as you sucked and licked over him, drool splattered on the floor and down your face. You looked like an absolute mess, and it was driving him nuts. In your head you marveled at the fact that he was lasting so long. If his stamina was already to this extent, you were in for a long night. It was to the point that your arm was getting tired from holding it up and your neck hurt too. You shot him a look, and he grunted at that, and you felt his cock finally twitch.

"What is it, sweet girl? Want me to take over?" He stroked your hair and you nodded, his cock still sitting in your mouth.

"Okay, sweet." He straightened up from where he was leaning back into the wall, and you let your arm fall so you could steady yourself on the floor. Your pussy clenched around nothing, and his long fingers dug into your hair at the top of your braid.

"Hit my leg if you need me to stop. I'll go deep every five thrusts, 'kay?" He informed you and you nodded. Was he planning this, thinking over how to do it? Fuck…

Preparing, you inhaled deeply through your nose, and he snapped his hips. The fat head hitting the back your mouth made you gag, but your eyes rolled back as you closed them, reveling in the sensation. True to his word, he filled your throat every five thrusts then kept going. Your breathing was harsh, not only trying to take in enough air, but also getting extremely turned on. Your bare cunt was sliding over the puddle you were leaving on the tile, the cold friction was getting you close.

"Fuck, (Y/N), I'm gonna cum," He whined, and you moaned in response, and he made a choking sound.

"Shit." He gasped, throwing his head back and he pressed on your head, so he was all the way in your mouth and came. You swallowed, gagging slightly, it felt like his cock was a hose with how much hot, sticky cum he was pumping down your throat. Tears slipped down your cheeks, your vision blurring from lack of air, but your pussy was throbbing. Waves of pleasure crashed through you as you came all over the floor. Finally, as you were getting lightheaded, he finally let your head go and pulled out, and you sucked in air harshly, a trail of drool and cum leaking down your face and onto your shirt. You thought at least his cock would have softened some, but no, he was still standing proud before you, the same mix on your face dripping off his cock. You swallowed one more time to get the rest down and he panted as you took your shirt off, then your bra, finally fully naked.

"You'll have to clean the floor," He smirked, nodding at the puddle you left as you stood up. You wobbled some and he reached forward to steady you and he led you closer to him and he smiled down at you.

"You did so good, sweet girl." He nuzzled the top of your head, and you took the chance to run your fingers over his bare torso. Soobin's cock pressed against your stomach and you both moaned softly as you peered up at him with wide eyes.

"Where you wanna fuck me, Binnie?" Your voice wavered, higher than normal and with a slight whine to it. He wondered how far gone you were, how cock drunk, and how much farther you would go. He didn't particularly want to fuck you in the bathroom, he wasn't sure where to do so though. The thought of doing it on one of the lounge chairs around the pool sounded nice, but risky. The fence surrounding the pool was tall but more or less open for everyone to see, even at the late hour. There was the couch in the back office, but that would be hard to clean…Then he got an idea.

"Come with me." He grabbed your hand to lead you, and he peered around the doorway of the bathroom to make sure no one would see as you passed the entrance gate. You both dashed into the shelter, and he told you to stand and wait while he grabbed some towels from the shelves. He laid five of them down over each other to make a much softer surface and it would make cleaning up easier as well.

"Over here, sweet." He motioned you over and he softly pulled you down to him and he sat on the towels letting you sit on his lap, straddling him. Soobin's cock nestled against your ass, your hands on his shoulders, and you were eye level with him like this. He placed a quick kiss on your lips, and you realized he hadn't kissed you yet. Whining, you brought his lips back to yours and it instantly got deeper as your tongues met. Pulling back shortly for air, you both dipped back in, and his hands went to your hips to maneuver you. He had you prop yourself up higher, the head of his cock nestled into your dripping folds.

"Ready?" He asked and you nodded, your kisses moving from his mouth to his jaw and down his neck. He pressed on your waist, and you started to sink down on him, and you gasped. He sure was going to split you in half. You threw your head back at the sensation, despite cumming twice and dripping like a faucet, the stretch burned.

"Breathe." He coached you, helping you take more even breaths as he filled you. Finally, his cock bumped your cervix, but there was still nearly an inch of him left. You wanted him in you completely, feel his groin touch your clit.

"M-more." You keened and he grunted, wrapping his arms around you to hold you in place. Your breath hitched each time he pulled out slightly, each thrust getting him deeper just a bit more till he was completely inside. You quivered, your cunt around his dick and your body in his arms. You yelped, clenching him when his hand went to and pressed on your lower stomach. He smirked and you looked down at yourself to see a faint rounded outline under your belly button.

"You took me so well, sweet girl." He whispered in your ear, and you shivered again, his tongue running up the side of your throat and to your ear lobe where he sucked on your earring. In that position, you really didn't have the strength to move, the pleasure too intense for your mind to function too.

"I'll help you, sweet." He assured you and you whimpered when he laid down, so his back was on the towels. He had you place your hands on his knees bent up behind you for leverage, then he shuffled some and gave you a look. You nodded and his hips jumped, thrusting him even deeper and you gasped. He watched in wonder as your head was thrown back, hair dangling down your back, chest heaving. Using his hips and arms to move you, he fucked up into you hard and you felt your orgasm already approaching. If you thought his tongue had wrecked you, his cock was worse. He wasn't rough, but his cock was just that big. What the hell had he been fed? Next time you would have to give Soobin his own day, you were already kind of tired from working, now Soobin was blowing your back out on the floor. It got to the point where you were struggling to keep your volume controlled. Your whines and moans were getting louder, too loud. His hips stopped and you nearly squealed, but he rolled you both over, so he was on top, your legs hitched up over his hips. Leaning forward over you, so tall his collarbone was at your nose, he had grabbed a smaller towel that had fallen when he grabbed the bigger one. Rolling it up quick, he gave short thrusts, and had you open your mouth and he put the towel in to keep you quiet.

"Next time, we need to go somewhere where you can scream, but not here." He muttered and you whined around the terrycloth, but you agreed. You never used to have trouble keeping quiet during sex, but your mind was gone, your self-control gone. After your mouth was handled, his hands pressed on your thighs to open your legs spread eagle, then he snapped his hips hard, and you came again. Your cunt clenched him so tight, he had to slow down to maintain his rhythm, helping you ride it out. Your poor clit was burning from overstimulation, your gummy walls fluttering still around him. Soobin groaned, adjusting your legs again to get you into a mating press. His big hands surrounded your lower thighs, and you were grateful for your flexibility as he easily forced your knees to your ears. He watched your head flop to the side, your eyes unfocused, mouth clenched on the towel, drool soaking in, tears flowing over your cheeks and sweat down your brow. You were ruined and he reveled in it. Yes, you had been railed before, but they hadn't fucked you stupid, not like he was. There were no thoughts behind your eyes, and you couldn't even form your mouth to say his name, let alone anything else.

"You like my cock, huh?" You nodded in response.

"Want me to fill you back up? Pump you full?" You let out a long pitchy moan.

"You’re such a little slut for me, sweet. Just for me? Only for me…" He groaned low as your pussy clenched him even tighter. His fingers buried into the flesh of your thighs, and you were worried he would leave bruises. Oh well, you owned a pair of capris.

"Want it, yeah?" Soobin grunted, his thrusts growing even harsher, but less consistent. If he came inside of you as much as he did down your throat…

"Fuck!" He grunted and your stomach got hot, the force of his cum coating your insides knocked you over the edge once again. The towel was a Godsend because you might have bitten your tongue otherwise, your head thrown back, nails digging into the towels.

"Fuck, sweet girl~" He whined, still filling you, drops of white slipping down your ass and onto the towel. You slumped, boneless, the towel falling out of your mouth and rolling away till it lay flat. As your mind's haziness started to fade, you cunt fluttered…he was still half hard.

"What the fuck?" You gasped to yourself, trying to process the reality of the situation. You blinked, trying to find your way back to the current realm of existence, he let your legs down so they could rest at his sides.

"Noona? You too tired?" His voice was tinted with worry, but he really, really hoped you said no. You shook your head in the negative and he sighed.

"Let me turn over." Your voice was scratchy, but he acquiesced, pulling out. When he did, globs of cum dripped out of you, the sensation was weird. To him, the sight was extremely arousing, and his cock was at full mast again. You rolled over onto your stomach, letting your ass prop up into the air. Soobin exhaled harshly and his giant cock pressed to your pussy once again and he slipped in easily. You grabbed the small towel from your side and bit down on it to quiet your own noises, his pace immediately was relentless. Soobin pulled his cock nearly all the way out, only his head being swallowed by your soaking folds before he buried deep again. Even though he was in your cunt and not your throat, each thrust made you feel like you couldn't breathe and what looked like sparkles dotted your vision.

"Ah, fuck!" You spat the towel out when he landed his hand on your ass, the skin erupting like fire. There was a bright red spot on your cheek in the shape of his hand. The way you pulsed around him at this made him smirk, and he changed his pace to deep but hard thrusts, battering your cervix. His other hand smacked the other side, and you shoved the towel back in your mouth so you could scream. How the fuck were you going to get home? You were probably going to have to call your roommate.

"Oh, you’re so good for me, sweet." He praised and this made you sob with pleasure.

"S-S-Soobin!" You managed to get his name out and he reveled in the broken syllables leaving your drool covered lips. Another spank landed on your ass, in a different spot this time, leaving another red welt in its wake. The sound echoed through the shelter and your skin burned after a good six or seven swats.

"Okay, (Y/N), noona, I'm going to come again, 'kay? On your back…" He groaned and with a last spank, you came, and he took the chance to pull out. After a few strokes, his hot cum splashed over the red skin on your ass, so hot it felt scalding. Your eyes closed, tears flowing down and over your nose to land on the towel under your face. Finally, finally, his cock was softening, still covered in a mix of your essences. You were a mess and he wanted you no other way. While Taehyun might have had a more dominating personality, Soobin was more devious it seemed. He loved you beneath him, utterly spent. You slipped in and out of consciousness as you heard him moving around the shelter. When he came back to you and lifted you up to kneeling, you whimpered, and he shushed you.

"It’s okay, noona, let’s get cleaned up." He held you like a princess, kissing your forehead. He was still just as naked, and he entered the back office you had left open and went into the bathroom there. He let you down softly, still holding you upright as he turned the shower on. He only made it warm, you both needed to cool down and he helped you rinse his seed off your skin. He cooed at the red marks as you leaned against the cold tile, still panting. You barely registered as he got you out of the shower and even dressed and you laid down on the couch in the office as he brought you your bag and phone. There was only one notification on your phone, and he saw the time was nearly 11 pm. He winced, grabbing his own phone, and sending the guys a quick message as you wearily looked at your own.

"You good, fam?" Your roommate had messaged you and you shot her a quick positive and debated whether to have her come get you or not. Shifting a bit to try and sit up, your entire body protested and so you caved and called her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes…I need you to come pick me up." You mumbled and you heard some shuffling on the other line.

"Are. You. Okay?"

"YES. I just…can't walk…or sit." You told her and she laughed so hard you had to pull your phone away from your ear.

"Okay, shit, that's great. I'll get an Uber and drive your car back." She hung up and your arm flopped back down, your cell face down on your stomach.

"Sorry." Soobin mumbled next to you, sitting on the floor next to the couch.

"Don't. That was…" You sighed and he laughed.

"You warned me of your stamina but that was insane." You huffed and he laughed again. You began to drift off, and he reached up, brushing some stray hairs from your face and stroking your still red cheek with the back of his finger.

"(Y/N)!" A voice he didn't recognize called out and he went to open the gate for your roommate and let her into the shelter. She barely glanced at him till she saw you lying on the couch, then turned to him. She balked, eyes wide and looked him up and down.

"Shit…" She swore and then went to you and shook you.

"You need help out to the car?" she asked, and you grunted a yes. Your roommate turned to Soobin, and he went to you. You lifted your arms up like a child and he chuckled, lifting you into his arms once again and followed your roommate out to the car. She grabbed your bag and his and made sure the lights were turned off and locked as you left. She had worked there with you in the past and so knew what to do. You rested your head on his shoulder as he carried you across the parking lot and helped you sit in the passenger seat. You winced as your sore skin touched the seat and he apologized. He kissed your forehead, which made you whimper, and he shut the door. Your roommate waved to him, and she pulled out before he started to walk back to campus.

"Holy crap." She muttered and you let out a tired laugh.

"Yes."

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[companionjones]

Go Ahead

Pairing: Billy Butcher x Reader

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon Video)

Summary: This is a universe where you were in The Boys since the beginning, and Becca somehow survived after you found her. You've been harboring feelings for Billy for god knows how long. Then, Becca drops a bomb that you were in no way expecting.

Warnings: I guess this would be a harem???

It didn't make sense to you.

"Go ahead. It's okay. I promise." That's what Becca had said. And then she left the room. Like it was nothing. Like she hadn't just thrown an unpinned grenade into your entire world view.

You moved to look at Billy. He did the same to you, and actually gave you his best attempt at a smile. That was when infuriation won out of the roller coaster of emotions you were feeling. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Butcher's smile disappeared. He looked offended.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Butcher?!" you repeated, louder.

"Fuck's wrong with me? You're the one oo's yellin'!" Butcher was, in fact, also yelling.

"Eight years. Eight years we spend looking for her, and what? You want to jerk off with someone else, first chance you get?!"

Butcher was obviously confused out of his mind. "Fuckin--Did you not 'ear what Becca was talkin' about? This is not about gettin' me fucking rocks off!"

"Then what is it about?!" you shouted.

Billy yelled back, equally as angry, "It's about you and me finally gettin' a chance!"

You had nothing to say in response to that. Just like you had nothing to say during or after Becca's speech about how you somehow deserved happiness, and how she wasn't afraid to share. Tears welled up in your eyes.

It must've been Billy's first instinct to comfort you because he was across the room in a moment, ready to take you in his arms.

You stopped him before he could, though. Held up a hand to halt him in his tracks.

Billy took a step away from you. He held his hands up in surrender.

"You weren't lying, huh?" you commented, tears still prevalent. Before Billy could ask what you'd meant, you answered, "She's amazing."

He huffed out a laugh then, and nodded.

"I've just...It's been so long that I've convinced myself I didn't deserve it," you tried to explain.

He didn't understand. "Deserve what, l--"

"Happiness, Butcher." You couldn't help the twinge of annoyance from showing in your voice.

But Billy just smiled.

For some reason, that resulted in your tears spilling over. Your head fell.

Billy took that step toward you again. He used his thumb and forefinger to tilt your face up toward his.

He had that soft look in his eyes. The look you swore Butcher saved only for the people he lo--

No, don't think about that now.

You closed your eyes because you had only experienced his touch that gentle when time in the field had god really bad, and he had almost lost you.

Billy kissed you then.

You gasped and pulled away. You opened your eyes to find Billy's face an inch from yours. That grin was gone. His eyes held every bit of emotion that he'd held back for all those years.

You spent a moment more to look into his eyes, then you glanced down to his lips.

They ticked up for a second when you licked your own lips. Yours then did the same as his. The small smiles were gone as soon as they were there, and then you were kissing Billy Butcher.

You just pecked his lips at first, but you couldn't stop leaning into him. Soon enough, one of your hands were threaded through the hair on the back of his head, and your other was gripping onto his coat for dear life.

Butcher wasn't any less lost in you. The man was so lost that he lost his footing, and ended up backing you against a wall rather harshly.

He immediately broke from you. "You alright, love?"

You just smiled up at him. Your eyes felt brighter than you could ever remember. "Yeah. I'm good." You brought him in to kiss you again.

*******

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[rafyki]

[Valgrace fanfic]

First Valgrace fanfic!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Inspired by @neo-kid-funk's beautiful art and by our constant talking about angsty Leo finding comfort in Jason's arms :')

So, here it is!! Hope you like it~

You can also read it on AO3!

~~~~

If you asked anyone, they would probably say that Leo is loud and talkative, sometimes too silly and unserious, and most of the times a little annoying too.

Anyone else might get offended by something like this, but truth be told, Leo is fine with it - more than fine, actually, he likes it. He has worked hard to craft such an image for himself, after all, to make so that the people around him would see him like the funny friend who always makes jokes even in the most dire situations, the one friend who you could always count on to make you laugh.

It feels safe, being perceived like this. An easy way to hide.

Leo has learned during the year, that if you are annoying enough almost no one would bother to check if your smile is an honest one or not; almost no one would care enough to dig and find out what is hidden under it.

It hurt at first. 

Leo has smiled and laughed and made jokes while screaming inside fake, fake, fake, how can you not see it's all fake! ; holding his tears until he was alone, letting it all out only in the safety of an empty room.

It has gotten easier, with time, so much that sometimes he isn’t sure himself how much of his smile is true or fake, how much of his personality is honest and how much is just his carefully crafted mask.

Maybe he is too good at building things, and that is why no one has been able to see the cracks all over his bubbly and annoying armor.

It’s easier, thinking like this rather than thinking that perhaps, simply no one cares enough to take a closer look.

And so he smiles, he cracks jokes, and he laughs. 

And no one notices when his smile turns forced, or when the light in his eyes dims and his stare gets lost far away for a long moment.

Leo is good at pretending, and so no one notices.

He wonders now if, perhaps, he has been so busy building his armor and thinking that no one would ever bother to see past it that he himself failed to look around and check if, after all, at some point, someone arrived that has been watching more closely than he believed.

It feels weird, raising his eyes after a moment of weakness and meeting Jason's concerned ones. 

“Leo, are you okay?”

The first time it happens, it takes Leo a long moment to really register Jason's words. They sound foreign, like they shouldn't be directed at him.

“Huh, yeah, man, sure I'm okay!”

Smile, fake, pretend. He could feel something cracking underneath. And, judging by the look in Jason's eyes, perhaps he heard that too.

Jason notices. Jason looks more closely. Jason cares enough to do so. 

It is subtle, at first. Subtle to anyone else's eyes, at least, but it still feels huge to Leo.

It is a simple ‘are you alright?’ when Leo gets too lost in his own head, a concerned look thrown his way when no one else seems to notice that there is something wrong with him, a shoulder bumping into his in support.

It is little, but it is there.

It is there when Leo doesn’t know he needs it, in those moments he is so used to hiding alone somewhere and just dealing with whatever it is that was pulling him down - Jason is there and, honestly, Leo doesn’t know what to do with that realization.

Sometimes Leo needs to hide, sometimes he can’t bring himself to crack a joke and force a smile and keep the facade up, and the only thing he can do is hide.

“Are you okay?”, Jason asks, because of course he does, he always does.

Leo nods, wears his signature smile and waves a hand to dismiss the question. 

“Sure am”, he says. “I just need to go to the engine room and check some things - Festus doesn't sound too good right now”.

That's his best excuse when they're on the Argo II; no one can say anything to that, because no one understands, and it's his work to check that everything is perfect with the ship. So they don't bother him, they let him go. Easily, always so easily dismissed.

“Do you want some company?”

Leo feels a little unstable on his feet. This isn't how it's supposed to go - Jason should wave him goodbye and let him go, and then Leo could hide in his safe space and just let the mask fall for a little while.

He really doesn't have the strength to keep it up right now, it's starting to feel a little too heavy.

“Huh, you'll get bored, man”, he replies. “I'm not really all that entertaining while I work”.

Jason shrugs.

“I'm just going to keep you company, you can do your work as you always do”.

It's hard, being on the Argo. For the obvious reasons (quest to save the world, constant monsters attacks), and also for the ‘only related to Leo' issues; it's hard not to feel alone, it's hard not to feel like you could easily be replaced, like no one would even notice you're gone if you threw yourself overboard. It feels unfair, thinking of his friends like that, but the knowledge doesn't make it easier to keep the thoughts away.

It's never been easy to feel like he really belongs. He's not sure anymore he knows what it means, and he's not sure if he'll ever find out.

Jason is looking at him, and Leo wonders how many of the cracks in his armor he can see.

Leo doesn't want company.

Leo desperately needs company.

He's so used to being alone in moments like this he's not sure what he wants anymore.

But Jason is there.

And Leo nods.

Jason isn't the first one to ask, of course. But he is the first one who doesn't seem to believe Leo when he nods and replies that yeah, of course he's okay why wouldn't he be; he's the first one who seem to realize that the smile carefully plastered on Leo's lips is as fake as the belief that the Greek gods have never existed. He's the first one to take a second, closer look, and he's the first one who keeps asking.

And Leo, well, Leo is getting used to it. And maybe he likes it a little too much.

He shouldn't, knows he shouldn't, knows Jason is just that kind with everyone, that he cares for everyone, that the way he cares for Leo is no different from how he cares for any of his other friends.

He knows.

It doesn't really make it any easier.

Jason asks and, usually, Leo lies.

The lies always feel familiar on Leo's tongue, so much that he's not sure he would be able to be honest even if he wanted to.

It's so much easier to laugh it away and pretend it's nothing, rather than trying to explain to someone everything that's wrong with you. What even is wrong with him? It's been so long he doesn't even know anymore. He wouldn't know where to start in telling anyone (in telling Jason, because there's really no one else. He can be that honest with himself, at least).

So, Jason asks, and Leo smiles, and lies.

And Jason doesn't believe him.

Leo starts to lean on it. To lean on the soft words of concern, on the feeling of a solid shoulder pressed against his, on the comfort of a pair of blue eyes looking concerned at him.

He’s not sure when, but at some point lying to Jason starts to feel wrong.

It takes Leo a while to recognize the feeling - he hasn’t been feeling like this for a long while, he’s pretty sure the last person who has ever made him feel this way is his mother; it feels so weird now, but Leo finds himself wanting to be honest.

“Ehi”, Jason says. “Are you okay?”

It’s become such a familiar question now, as long as it’s coming from Jason’s lips, accompanied with Jason’s thoughtful eyes scrutinizing him. 

“Yeah, sure”. It’s a reflex, replying like this. Leo regrets the words as soon as he’s done speaking them.

They’re sitting near the canoe lake, and the Camp it’s weirdly quiet.

The war is over, they’re both alive, and Leo should feel better. He does, in some ways - it’s easier to tell himself he’s enough, it’s easier to show a smile that is a little less fake than usual.

Still, sometimes, he doesn’t, and he’s not sure why.

There are those moments when he simply deflates. Once, he would have said he needs to be alone in such moments; now, he’s not so sure.

“You don’t really look okay, Leo”.

Leo looks at him, and Jason looks back at him. It’s doing something to Leo’s heart - Leo is a little afraid it’s going to set itself on fire any time now.

It’s the first time Jason calls him out on his blatant lie.

“I…”, he starts. He’s not sure how to be honest anymore, how to take off the mask completely. “I… will be?”

It’s true, he always does feel better in the end. It still sounds like a question more than anything else.

Jason touches his shoulder to Leo’s, and this time he doesn’t move back after a few moments; he stays there, shoulder pressed against Leo’s, a solid and real comfort. Leo leans into the contact, he can’t really help it. It feels nice, like he could allow himself to fall, because Jason would be there to hold him and help him back up.

“You know, you don't have to smile if you don't feel like it”.

It hits Leo like a truck. It’s such a simple thing to say, so obvious. Right now, it feels bigger and heavier than anything. 

“Smiling is easier though”, he finds himself saying.

“Is it?”

Leo thinks that right now the only thing that’s keeping him safe is the press of Jason’s body against him.

Is it? Leo tries to remember when was the last time smiling and pretending while he felt like this had actually made him feel better. He comes up empty handed.

He leans more into Jason, wishes for a second that Jason would put his arm around his shoulders to keep him together. He wishes it so hard it takes him a moment too long to realize it’s real when Jason actually does.

But no, it really is true, the weight is real and firm, and Leo still feels like he’s going to crumble any moment, but he also feels like he doesn’t have to worry about picking up the pieces, because Jason will do it for him.

Jason pulls him closer.

His heart is definitely going to set itself on fire now, but Leo goes willingly, and finds it a little easier to breathe.

He closes his eyes, and doesn’t force himself to smile.

The next time, Leo doesn’t wait for Jason to ask.

He feels himself grow distant, getting lost in the maze of his thoughts and memories, he feels a little too outside of the chatting around him; and he feels his lips grow heavy under the weight of his smile, the mask getting harder to keep in place.

It’s a little like instinct, going to find Jason. It’s a little like fate that he finds him immediately in his cabin.

And it’s a little too easy to let himself fall on the bed against him.

Leo feels a little better just with that. 

“Ehi”, Jason murmurs, quietly.

He doesn’t ask, this time. Instead, he wraps his arms around Leo, pulls him closer and closer until Leo is basically curled in his lap, head against his chest.

Jason is sturdy under him. Safe, Leo thinks as he melts in the embrace.

He closes his eyes, and can’t feel anything but Jason around him, his hand caressing his head, his scent filling his senses.

He hasn’t been this bare around someone in years; he never realized how heavy his armor became until now, when he’s finally thrown it on the ground. Jason has taken it off of him piece by piece without Leo even realizing.

He doesn’t feel like smiling right now, but feels calm, quiet. 

The sound of Jason’s heart is the only one he can hear, and Leo almost thinks he can follow a morse code hidden in it, behind every beat.

His own flaming heart is doing the same as he runs and runs - but that code, Leo knows all too well.

His fingers start tapping it on Jason’s chest.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Maybe, one day, he’ll be able to tell him out loud. Maybe he can give Jason some more honesty.

Maybe Jason can understand it already.

For now, he holds tighter onto him and lets himself be held.

Leo soon finds out that Jason's arms are incredibly warm and welcoming, and that it's way too easy to fall into them.

It becomes a habit, and something that Leo doesn’t want to go without. He tries to, reprimands himself every time because it’s not right and it’s not good, and it’s only going to hurt him again and again and again. And where will he even find hiding and comfort once Jason himself is the reason for his spiraling?

But Jason is always there, and Leo can’t help himself.

And so, he doesn’t even wait for him to ask anymore, he simply allows himself to let the truth show, to stop smiling and fall silent, and he leans into him. Jason is always ready to catch him.

Leo wonders if Jason has the slightest idea of what it means to him - of what he means to Leo. Leo would love to have the courage to tell him - or, better, tell him in a language that Jason understands. 

Instead, he falls into him, snuggle into his chest, and loses himself in the feeling of strong arms circling him as his heart runs around in a fire in his ribcage and his fingers tap the same hidden message on Jason’s skin.

It’s so engraved into him, at this point, that his heartbeat probably follows the same pattern, the blood in his veins pumping to that same rhythm.

Maybe that’s why it takes him a long while to realize that that same pattern is being tapped on his own arm. Jason’s fingers follow the familiar movement of Leo’s, speaking the same words that his heart screams every second of every day.

Leo feels it against his skin, and he wants to cry.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Jason doesn’t know, Jason doesn’t understand, or he wouldn’t be doing that.

Leo lets himself feel it one more time before reaching out and catching Jason’s hand to stop him.

“What’s wrong?”, Jason asks.

For a long moment, Leo can’t find his voice.

“Stop”, he manages to say in the end. 

“Why?”

Such an easy question for such a complicated answer.

Leo wants to be honest. He desperately wants to put a fake smile on and leave. But he wants to be honest. He tries to find a joke to say, somewhere in his brain - something that would make the tension dissolve. 

It’s become way too difficult to lie to Jason though, especially when he’s holding Leo like this.

“You don’t know what it means”, he ends up saying. 

A moment of silence follows. Maybe Jason has gotten tired of trying to talk to him, after all.

“Of course I do”.

Leo stops, then turns to look at Jason.

“No, you don’t”.

Jason smiles, and Leo’s heart stops beating. There’s no way he isn’t going to set himself on fire any moment now.

“Yes, I do”.

“Then why are you doing it?”, Leo asks. He tries to move away, to put some distance between them, tries to take his armor and his mask back; but Jason keeps holding him, and keeps them out of his reach. 

“Same reason why you’ve been doing it all this time”, he says. Then adds, “Or I hope so”.

“Oh, I doubt it’s the same”, Leo scoffs. 

He hates the way Jason is looking at him right now, hates the way he himself is feeling right now. Still, he can’t help but lean into the touch when Jason cups his face - gently, he’s always so gentle with Leo.

His fingers start tapping again, slowly, like they’re engraving the pattern right onto Leo’s soul.

“Leo”, Jason says. “I’m going to be brave for the both of us if you’ll let me”.

Leo wants to say something, anything, but his voice is gone again.

Ha can feel nothing but Jason all around him, can’t hear nothing but the hidden words being written on his skin.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The pattern merges with the spoken words as Jason says them.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Leo still can’t find his voice but his fingers know what to do, and so they reply, carving his feelings on Jason’s chest.

It’s a little like a dream, except that Leo’s dreams are never this nice.

He hides his face in the crook of Jason’s neck, hoping that he won’t set fire to the both of them. Jason lets out a soft happy laugh and holds him closer, leaves a kiss on the top of Leo’s head.

Leo is bare and honest like he’s never been before.

He smiles, and thinks that that feels like belonging.

[blacklegsanjiii]

So I've had a thinking about mom!robin and child!sanji au and was wonder what are some of your head canons! Maybe robin picked up a 7-8 sanji when she was 16 or 17. This could maybe fit under nico!sanji but where robin actually adopts sanji. Feel free to make as fluffy or as angsty as you want I'm just looking for ideas :)

The first ever Nico!Sanji was them staying together and working in Baroque Works together and she did find him around eight. Instead of sending him to the Baratie to work. However I love the idea of Nico!Sanji and Robin just having a child/parent dynamic of overprotective Robin who found Sanji lost at age eight, starving and alone and she's not in much better shape at age seventeen. Sanji is so small and fits so well into Robin's arms and Robin who hasn't had companionship in so long, he holds her hand or one of them as they walk in deserted parts, when they camp for the night Robin wraps him in many arms and holds him close to her.

I feel like Robin would rarely let Sanji out her sight for years to come, between the Navy and whoever may or may not be after Sanji she likes to play it safe. Sanji is eager to please and follow her every word. She sings to him and tells him stories because she will not lose him like she lost everyone else. Sanji lets her, the first set of soft touches that he's had in years. He still flinches sometimes, involuntarily. It's not that he wants to, afraid he'll offend her or hurt her feelings. That she'll leave him, he doesn't want her to leave him, he likes her a lot! She's so nice and loving and caring, like his mom! He accidentally calls her mom about a year after they start traveling together and when Robin starts crying he thinks he fucked up and apologizes and says he can go! He's been alone before it's fi-!

But she cuts him off and pulls him to her and just says she's happy, hasn't been this happy in a very long time and that she would like it if he wants to keep calling her that. He nods and says he would like to, if she really doesn't mind. They stay sat together for a while and he does get used to calling her 'mom' more often than not. She loves it and smiles so fondly whenever he does it. They're inseparable basically.

When they make it to Alabasta, Sanji is fifteen and Robin is twenty-four, the coup has already happened and they begin to work for Sir Crocodile. Miss All Sunday and Mister Prince working together. It weirds some people out this teenager is calling this woman who definitely isn't actually old enough to be his mom 'mom' and she goes along with it and smiles so fondly to him. Crocodile doesn't bat an eye, the kid cooks well enough to make him not care and Miss All Sunday is on the hunt for Pluton so he really doesn't care as long as he gets results. If anyone does try to pick a fight with Sanji they do have to deal with Robin though, it doesn't happen often but Robin is known for being protective of him.

Sanji still cooks, he cooks for all of Baroque Works when he sees them or they're around and not off fulfilling their duties. He still wants to find the All Blue but he fights with his hands and he listens to Robin as she explains the difference in the poneglyphs to him. Their both multilingual and he knows how to read some of the language the poneglyphs are written in but not all, it's a tricky language to learn to read let alone put together. The other members of Baroque Works tend to tune them out when they start speaking other languages they don't understand, Crocodile sighs in irritation every time it happens.

Sanji is sent to Little Garden to help Mr. 3 ahead of the Strawhat's arrival and he finds it rather interesting that they're helping the princess of Alabasta, finds it hilarious the princess had to get help from pirates but then he watches them take down Mr. 3 and well, it would be nice to have company on the way back to Alabasta so he offers the Ever Pose in exchange for a lift, and he offers to cook for them as well. Only to be roped into the shenanigans of Drum Island and shit is his mom going to be pissed when she finds out he broke his fucking back kicking these idiots out of the way of a fucking avalanche. He's going to be in so much trouble, he's going to get glared at and talked to in several different languages oh no.

When they're in Alabasta, overthrowing his boss for pete's sake, he avoids Crocodile because he'll be in trouble otherwise, great trouble, but Crocodile falls and Alabasta is free. To keep appearances he pulls a gun on Robin on when she boards the ship, him having been fully invited into after Drum Island. She smiles sweetly at them and during the night, during Sanji's watch after the galley is cleaned, she finds him and they speak in a language only they know. She strokes Sanji's hair as he leans his head on her shoulder. No one really clocks it as they sail together, at least not until after Ennies Lobby and Water 7. When they get the Thousand Sunny and Robin is free for the moment and wants to live and has the freedom to live now. I feel like Usopp stumbles upon them sleeping together, just passed out curled up around each other and he fucking tells everyone their dating. Despite the visceral reaction from most of the crew. Robin and Sanji are asked about it at lunch the next day, Franky wiggling his eyebrows and then bawling when they say they're not an item, far from it. Everyone does notice they are close but can't figure out how close. They hear them talking in the other languages and falling into a mix of languages that no one else can understand.

After Thriller Bark and all the parties Sanji finds her and it's rare, he's taller than her now after all, but she pulls him into her lap and cries quietly as she pets his hair. He doesn't say what happened, but she knows he's keeping whatever promise he made to the swordsman but still. She doesn't begrudge him, never, not after what happened with Cipher Pol and Aokiji. Not after working in Baroque Works for a warlord. When he apologizes later she shushes him and makes sure he's calm and the tear stains have calmed before he leaves. She's so soft, still creepy but he's creepy right back. But then everything keeps going wrong and they're separated on Sabaody. The pacifistas, the quick vanishing and appearing in a random place, rushing to get back together, only to fail, only to see the note in the paper, only to rely on whisperings to see how their crew is doing. Ivankov and Dragon seem to be questioning of the relationship between the two of them after their meetings when they have tea with Koala and Robin. Robin simply says Sanji is her son which makes Koala lose it as Iva looks confused and Dragon shrugs it off because yeah, sure.

When they all come back together she checks Sanji over and nods approvingly in private, fussing over him publicly would only lead to the crew questioning them again when that wasn't the case. They could just come out and say it but they don't need to, not right now. Their convictions towards each other are strong and unyielding. Which is why Robin also goes to WCI, she doesn't dissuade Nami from going but does ask that she give Sanji grace. Nami gives her a questioning look but agrees hesitantly. There's so many questions going through her mind but she leaves without asking any, Luffy and them promising to bring Sanji back to them. When the crew is headed to Wano it's Usopp who asks Robin why she asked Nami to give Sanji grace for leaving. Robin clarifies that it's not for him leaving but what he's going to do while gone, what he feels he'll have to do to protect the crew. Zoro asks why she didn't go if she cares so much and Robin says every parent must let their child make mistakes, she's no different and that if she goes she will not listen to Sanji or Luffy and it could end just as badly as Ennies Lobby if she had. When everyone, Heart Pirates included, ask what she means when she said 'parent' she laughs and says she and Sanji's relationship is much more of a mother and her son than siblings, he was so small at age eight that it was easy to fool people while they ran and it became less of an act over time. Franky asks what Sanji would do while he's gone and Robin answers that she wouldn't put much past him, they were in Baroque Works for a while and have been running from the Navy for most of their lives so there's not much they wouldn't do to protect those they care about. Everyone just stares at her and Robin laughs lightly to herself and bids them all a goodnight and goes to bed.

When they're all in Wano again and Sanji is concerned about what Robin will do to him but she simply hugs him and says she's happy he's safe. Sanji nods and hugs her back and Franky is bawling saying it's SUUUPER to see mother and son reunited after everything that has happened which makes the rescue team balk at them in surprise and start questioning them. It's a long and awful conversation because Sanji didn't really tell Robin about his family either. When he's done though Robin simply hums and says it's a good thing she wasn't there because she would have defied his wishes because hell hath no fury like a scorned mother.

[stephofromcabin12]

🤫

Ahem:

Dionysus hid in his own home during that time between HOO and TOA 5 like the dad in arrested development until Zeus spotted him out and about and sent him back.

Hera has a swear jar on Olympus. It’s most frequently brought out during game nights.

Hermes has the loudest, most obnoxious ring tones. Several because he has multiple phones.

Ares is directly responsible for reddit’s existence. He’s not aware of this. He’s also banned from 9897996 subreddits. He’s started double that amount.

Apollo’s main strategy of getting out of conversations with people is to pretend to text and go “uuuhhhhmm” *taptaptaptaptaptap* “weeeellll, hmmm, uuhhhhhhhh” *taptaptaptaptap* until they get angry and give up trying to talk to him.

You’re most likely to run into Hermes, Apollo and Artemis at a gym (Artemis is just there looking for potential hunters)

You might assume Ares would be there but he’s not. He’s casually dropping into arenas and hotels that athletes stay at while playing for tournaments. And sports bars. So many sports bars.

He used to go to the olympic village but he got too distracted by the games to even bother picking up potential mortal partners.

Apollo had a plant phase (“nymphs dig plants, right?”) didn’t last long.

Artemis attracts cats and does not understand why, considering she’s hanging out with wolves all the time.

Hecate likes to send her unclaimed kids those tarot “this was meant to find you” readings everywhere with specific hints that she’s connected to them, to see if they figure it out. She also will only communicate through scrying and magic rather than IM’s, and gets very offended when her children don’t pick up on it at all. Her version of “cause you’re always on that damn phone” is “You never use your intuition!!”

Hypnos has shown up in his kids’ dreams multiple times, in various forms. Hey, gotta take advantage of unseen ways of checking in on ‘em right. He’ll visit other’s children if he’s asked nicely and you catch him in the right mood. More gods have asked him to do this than they’d care to admit.

Dionysus can identify the year and grape of a wine just by hearing it poured.

Aphrodite is unapologetically on all dating apps, and is unafraid to message any of her kids she sees, as well as demigods in general, just to say hi. She’ll sometimes say something ominous as if she’s seen their interests and is making ~plans~ for their future in love. She knows they’re mortified, that’s why she does it.

I see trash canon Ares and raise you: Coach dad Ares. Your classic coach dad. He’s arguing with their actual football coaches, he’s grilling after a victory, he’s putting kids in headlocks and ruffling their hair. His leather jacket may or not crinkle due to the Werther’s originals he carries around. He does the reach around snack hand on the solstices during the presentations.

At those solstice meetings every year, the gods have a nymph secretary to whisper their kids’ names in their ear in case they forget.

Ares has had the same dog for 4000 years. Its unclear if its really the same dog he’s kept around or if he simply gets the same kind of dog every-time the last one dies and names it the same name. It’s called Thyella or “Ty” for short.

This is just like— headcanon but I like the idea of the gods not only being distant and emotionally unavailable bc they’re bad parents but also bc they’re just: extremely confused by humans. Especially modern humans. They can’t keep up. They’re perplexed at the speed at which their demigod kids pick up, and leave behind, things, phrases and trends. And they hate not knowing things, and even worse, not being considered cool by their kids (where’s the honor in that?). So they feign disinterest but the easiest way to piss them off is to make something up and go “oh you don’t know about that? Mom/Dad that’s ancient news!” When they ask what you’re talking about.

Similarly my favorite headcanon for them is that they’re deities, as in, they’re not human. They’re unquantifiable. They’re at times almost creature like? Like, they’re confusing and everchanging and Other. There’s something distinctly Not Human about them, even when they’re trying to come across as one. A mortal might find it alluring, a demigod will probably find it slightly disturbing, especially when they occasionally catch a glimpse of it in themselves.

Demigods, because of this, also come across as almost not human to others at times. There’s something off about them. Its not the ADHD, it’s not the way they never use technology. Its the way they nod sagely in class when discussing ancient myths, like they’ve met the gods themselves or quietly add “psh, yeah they wish” under their breath while watching a documentary.

Its in the way their eyes look purple if the sun hits them just right, before you blink and they go back to their usual blue.

Their reflexes that, despite being so clumsy, are freakishly good under pressure. The sheer strength they have when you know they’ve never set foot in a gym.

Its the way you remember that one time in the second grade when your buddy took a baseball to the face and still to this day you could’ve sworn there was the tiniest swirling of something shimmery reflecting in the blood dripping down over their fingers; microscopic golden specks reflecting in the fluorescent lights on the way to the nurse’s office. You never mentioned it at the time, much too caught up in the drama and excuse to leave P.E early. But you still look at them now, years later, stretching out in the sun like a plant; trying to absorb as much light as possible, scars that they never mention and never acknowledge crossing their abdomen and arms, and you wonder what that’s all about.

In the case of adults, mortals don’t necessarily know that they’re speaking to a god, but there’s something about them that just— feels off. Not bad, not always. Just something in the way they know things that doesn’t make sense. How they seem to appear out of nowhere, appearance always perfect without them even trying. They don’t sweat. They don’t blush. They never run out of things to say. They never lose their way. People seem to just bend around them, like the time the restaurant they took you to was closed early and after a short conversation, the chef reappeared to open the kitchen just for you. Or the time they scored tickets to that sold out concert, or wrestling match. It’s so odd looking back on that fling all those years ago and realising that you dont think they ever showered. Or shaved. Not that it showed on them but that’s still odd right? Or the time they chatted with someone on the phone in a language you didn’t recognize.

“What was that language?” An innocent question, this was before you thought to be suspicious of these things.

“Greek.” They answer, not meeting your eyes.

“I didn’t know your family is from Greece,” you reply, trying to think if they ever mentioned it.

“Oh, we go way back,” they say, changing the subject before you think to ask more questions.

[phoenixyfriend]

Rex and Anakin Raise a Family 8

Chapter 8: Custody Visitation

The kids have a cousin, now.

Rex brings the twins to Anakin, and makes Mereel and Jango wait on the couch while they get the babies to stop squalling. They are upset, screaming, and red in the face. Rex doesn’t care what the Mandalorians want. The kids come first.

He hands Anakin a blanket to cover up while feeding. Anakin rarely minds people seeing him nurse the twins, but something in Rex hates the idea of Mereel and Jango seeing it.

“So,” Rex says. He keeps his eyes on Mereel, and doesn’t look at Jango. Shmi is pressed into Rex’s side and trembling. “What brings you here?”

“I think you know,” Mereel says. “You look rather a lot like—”

“Let me rephrase,” Rex interrupts, because he has no mind for being polite right now, “how did you know where we were, or that we even exist?”

Jango is fidgeting, but Rex can’t see details from his peripherals.

Mereel is stupidly calm, and Rex is jealous. “We heard rumors of someone wandering around in armor that had blue, black, and grey in enough of a quantity that we had someone come by to find out if there was Kyr’tsad in the area, see if maybe we’d stumbled across a new base. They found out you were here, heard you had kids and no interest in bounties or getting involved in any kind of politics or law, and then saw your face and realized… well. You look a lot like Jango’s father. We thought maybe an uncle, or something. Jango says he doesn’t know enough about his grandfather to know if there was any chance of his father having siblings he’s never met.”

It's the sensible assumption. Wrong, but the truth isn’t going to be anyone’s first thought.

“I don’t want to get pulled into your war with Death Watch,” Rex says. “I’m not putting my kids at risk for you.”

“You’re Mandalorian!” Jango bursts out. “So that means—”

“I’m not,” Rex says. He waits for a second to see if either of the people across from him will object, but they don’t. Jango is frozen, and Mereel is… patient.  Rex doesn’t like him. “My biological parent was a Mandalorian, but he never gave me or my brothers the grace of acknowledging us as his children, and the training we received may have been Mandalorian in culture, but we only got to learn the fighting and some of the language, but never to fluency, and never anything that wasn’t useful in battle. Even my armor is plastoid.”

“Brothers?” Mereel prompts.

“All dead,” Rex says. He ignores the wounded sound from Jango, like a little bubble of hope just got dashed.

Mereel makes a low hum of a noise, and says, “there are ways to become Mandalorian.”

“I’m not swearing the Resol’nare,” Rex carefully does not snap. “I am not swearing myself to you. Like I said, my own kids come first.”

The hand on Jango’s shoulder may well be the only thing keeping him from jumping up to pick a fight. Mereel is still so damnably calm. “I understand. That said, can we discuss some possibilities for having you in Jango’s life, as the only remaining blood relative?”

Rex purses his lips, and looks to Anakin. The twins, he thinks, are finished, and Shmi doesn’t feel as tense or scared as she did earlier.

“I’d prefer to have this conversation without the kids in the room,” Rex decides. Anakin twitches next to him. “Shmi, do you mind taking the twins to your room? If you’re okay with it, Jango could go with you and… I don’t know. Help you with one of your books? He’s a bit older than you, so he should know how to read.”

Jango looks offended. “I learned how to read years ago!”

I don’t care, Rex thinks. “Then you should be able to help her, yeah?”

Shmi leans away from Rex’s side to look at him, and then Anakin, and then back to Rex. There’s something calculating in her eye, but she nods. “Okay.”

She gets up, and grabs the hoverpram, and Anakin… well, he puts the babies down, which is more than Rex expected of him, honestly. He kind of expected a fight.

The kids leave. Anakin stays tense, and far away, and Rex listens for the closing of the door.

“So,” Mereel starts.

(Continue on AO3)

[i-fucking-hate-ppl]

Hello! I see that you write for Hazbin Hotel, I hope I'm not being a bother but I'd like to request Alastor with a friend/significant other that identifies as non binary. Seeing as he's from a time period where LGBTQ people weren't exactly accepted I wonder what his opinion would be. Would he be homophobic? Or would he be confused/slightly weirded out and need someone to explain to him for him to understand and accept?

You're hardly a bother dearie! I hope you enjoy!

Platonic

He would be confused and most certainly has no clue what you're going on about! Those terms hardly existed in his time, or at least weren't common knowledge, it was all just slurs unfortunately.

Even with his time in hell, he was too busy off doing his.. broadcasts and whatnot to become better educated on the subject.

Once you explain it he will.. still be rather confused but he's quite the polite and proper man, a gentleman really, so he won't ever say anything bad.

Just a "Oh! Well that's.. quite interesting!"

He might say some offensive things from time to time, on accident of course. A small correction is all that's needed.

"Sorry my dear! I wasn't aware!"

And that's that, he'll never say it again.

He tries to be respectful, and tries to avoid bringing it up so he won't offend you. And rather brings his question to random ass people he finds because he doesn't give two fucks about them.

If you start mentioning asexual he'll be like oh hey, that's me! Haha!

Obviously he gets better with time, and it's something you two bond over with a cup of tea.

"And he dared to misgender me, after i politely corrected him! What a prick am I right?"

"Most definitely dear. I could take care of him, if you wish."

"...Uh like bring him soup when he's sick or..."

Or

"A man came onto me on my way back this evening."

"Jesus! I hope he got what he deserved!"

"He most certainly did! I ripped his dick off! Haha!"

"...Good for you? I mean uh, you go!"

Sometimes you're slightly concerned by him..

Romantic

As stated before, confused and has no idea what you are talking about.

Although this time he is more interested, you are his lover after all, he should try to understand to his full extent!

He will ask you many questions, and word them very carefully so he won't upset you. And anything he think may be slightly offensive, well it's back to torturing questioning the information out of homeless people.

"You should have told me sooner dear! It's hardly an issue at all! I have no problem with the community, be a giraffe for all I care!"

"You shouldn't have a problem with the community since you're an ace in the hole, also that's.. a little bit offensive."

"A what now?"

Further explanation needed. He's heard it twice now, tell him.

Once you explain he'll realize that you were most certainly correct! Any sexual attraction towards you is very, very far and few between and most of the time he'd much rather just sit and read a book with you with some jazz playing from a radio in the backround.

He won't treat you any differently than he did before hand. <3

[hocuspocusbabyy]

Low key sat here crying at the thought of the anxious and or neurodivergent fxf pairing. ‘GENERAL’ Example ADHD gf with her Autism presenting gf.

Three couples example bellow:

Casey Novak & Alex Cabot:

Both struggle with balancing their work to home ratio. Not with each other, they are very understanding. Rather with themselves. Alex will take on more and more tasks, believing nobody will do it right and will save her time in the long run… till she burns out. Manifesting mostly as overstimulation, isolating herself as a result. Very minimal contact, she will bite your head off. Her skin feels like it’s crawling. Yet she cannot stand the idea of being left alone.

Casey on the other hand, can’t say no to anyone - need a favour? She already done it. She often forgets to do things for herself, including getting behind in paperwork leading to many long nights trying to catch up. Eventually the nervous energy gets the better of her and she has to do something. She can get manic with it, a good mix of stress and sleep deprivation. Casey will push herself past it till bordering on tears.

Casey started going to the batting cages again when it all gets too much. It was nice for her to just get some fruition out rather than training for a game, maintaining her body scholarship as she did in college. Alex took to joining her, seeking the redhead out whenever the anxiety had got the better of them both… after the inevitable argument when Casey storms out. A familiar car pulling into the grounds as she swings, the blonde slowly sinking into the bleachers - far enough that the cracking sound of the bat and hall didn’t offend her. She’d sit and read.

They’d take turns checking upon one another just a simple glance in each direction. Till Casey couldn’t possibly hit another, Alex having finished her chapter, working their way across the pitch. Gingerly reaching for the others hand. No apologies given, as they both understood one another’s side of things, simply smiling and driving home together.

Eloise Bridgerton & Cressida Cowper:

Eloise uses her writing as an outlet for emotion. When the world gets a little too much. After she’s turned away from a conversation and found she’d hardly gotten herself across at all. Eloise often struggled with expressing herself without coming across as abrasive. Many people shy away from her personality, her brazen. It often stuck to her, how life would have been so much easier if she had been more like her sisters. Her main standing was being a writer, yet people did not take to kindly to writers block.

Cressida’s is more frustration with articulating her mind, she noticed more as she got older. How passive people could be of her when a particular topic of interest ran away with her, only to look up and see nobody listening any longer. Or the assumption people made that she was lesser in intelligence just because it took her a moment to catch on. Rather her attention has been grasped counting the buttons of everyone’s shirts.

They can both cope with it, most of the time but often at the coming ends of seasons when countless balls and dinners are done everything crammed into one and the anxiety gets the best of them. Cressida delves into her sewing, perfecting the next round of presentations. Cressida liked to he prepared as a coping mechanism. Eloise on the other hand will bury herself in books, pulling extracts and taking apart words till her own can form upon the page.

They develop a pattern of hardly seeing each other; until one night when Eloise walks into her study to get some writing done she finds Cressida’s always sat in the Sewing. Neither taking any notice of the other as they work till eventually the blonde sighs loudly, the other woman looking up with a frown.

“It’s awfully quiet in here.” The blonde states passively still working on her sewing. Smirking lightly as the brunette simply clears her throat and starts reading out loud. Eventually the blonde will grow tired of sewing, swanning over to sit upon her lovers lap. Eloise allowing her gladly, they’d simply sit together till the early hours reading from the same page. Eloise never changes the page till Cressida is ready.

Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanoff:

Wanda has always struggled with being around crowds or new people. She knew who she liked and forming new relationships was something she’d always struggled with. A lot of people were either impossibly dull or didn’t stick around long enough to get to know her. It took her a while to open up. So weeks of conferences for the Avengers at Tony’s and the PR teams assistance; she really couldn’t stand the idea of people around anyone right now. It translates to anger. Practically chasing Sam from the kitchen when he offer to help.

Natasha was used to people relying on her, ever since she was a child. However sometimes the weight of it all gets a little too much. When there’s a particularly bad accident or job for the Avengers so many life’s on the line and responsibility. Nat going back into that black widow shell a little more.

Nat would come home after a long day dreading having to speak with everyone at the compound yet will be met by an empty floor. Wanda borderline angrily tossing items into dishes on the stove, her body in full culinary focus. The blonde would simply place the ingredients Wanda had text for on the counter, kissing the side of her head in passing and walking towards the couch. Opening a beer before watching reruns of spy old movies.

The food would be ready eventually a movie or two in, undisputed as her girlfriend had threatened anyone from coming close to her. Suddenly a bowl would appear in front of her, the redhead simply handing it over before sitting beside her. The blondes arm rising to pull them closer together and Wanda reaching to turn up the tv volume.

[perictione00]

Oops!...I Did It Again

Ch 1: It's Complicated

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts/behaviour (please do not read if things like this are triggering for you).

Synopsis: When life was throwing you uncountable curveballs, an unexpected reunion with your high school friend helped you dodge every single one of them. Coping mechanisms leave you both in a complicated situationship. So what happens when one of you ends up catching feelings? The cliche or the unexpected?

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

You wonder what your life would've been like if your parents were still alive. Maybe you would have stayed a child for a little longer, enjoyed your life a little longer, without execrating every bitter incident that landed on your lap, and maybe you wouldn't be standing on the edge of a rooftop, drunk, contemplating your next move. It could be so easy to just stop everything and not feel anything any longer. You could be free from all the burden that you've been carrying; you won't have to worry about the deadlines, the debt, the rent, or your sister's school fee. Oh yeah, there it is—the reason you question your decisions whenever you find yourself on the rooftop. You really do love her; you act brave for her sake, and she's your motivation, yet sometimes it all feels so worthless. It doesn't matter when nobody acknowledges your hard work, but it hurts like hell when she doesn't. You try to understand that she's in her rebellious phase and that she's still young; however, you envy her for having the audacity to even disregard you in the first place because you expect her of all people to recognize the effort you put in. Why do you have to grow up and she gets to stay a child, a brat?

"What are you waiting for?", you almost lost your balance as you heard his voice. You slowly turned, only to see a blonde-haired guy with an obviously expensive-looking formal suit. "So you're drunk this time?", he continued as he walked in your direction.

"Heyaaaa, Mr. Richie Rich, what took you sooo loooooong, I missed you shhoooo muuchhh", you weren't sober enough to know how drunk you sounded, but Nanami was. He took your hand with caution as you climbed down the edge. The dark circles under your eyes gave away the reason for your current state. It was evident that you had been overworking yourself for the past few days. You barely had time for yourself, and you had requested Nanami to pick up your sister from her tennis classes twice this week. He was actually shocked to find you a bit too early at the office today as well, and although he wanted to question it, he knew better. There were already way too many rumors about you circulating in the office; he didn't want to add one more by holding a conversation with you.

"Let's go, I'll make dinner", he said as he collected the files and your heels that decorated the rooftop floor.

Nanami closed the door of his apartment as you staggered your way to the very comfortable-looking couch. He knew that you would fall asleep on the couch and that it would be such a pain to wake you up, but the peacefulness on your face changed his mind. This was basically the story of every other weekend, and it was painfully obvious how you both lacked a social life. However, he would rather spend his weekends with you than hold conversations with the people in his company; they were all...tiring and he felt at ease with you, maybe because you both attended the same high school and were part of the same circle. So here he was, almost done heating the leftover miso soup, searing chicken, and preparing parsley sauce to go with it.

Now comes the hard part: waking you up. He remembers that one time, when you had asked him to choose a pokemon that came to his mind when he thought of you, he also remembers how he had immediately answered Snorlax and how, surprisingly, you weren't even offended and instead tried to justify its life style. Of course you didn't need to know that he found Snorlax the cutest of all pokemon.

After 10 minutes of diligence, you were finally awake, cranky but awake at last. He led you to the dining table and served you the miso soup which tasted like heaven. The tofu literally melted in your mouth and the brothy texture was to die for, you could feel yourself sobering. While you were enamored with the taste of the food, Nanami was secretly anticipating your unusual way of appreciating his food, which you did.

"Oh I could just marry you right now", you announced as you pecked his lips, catching him off guard.

To say that Nanami was flustered would be an understatement. The tips of his ears were as red as an apple, and his serious guy exterior was on the verge of breaking. He knew that for you, it wasn't anything unusual because of the peculiar relationship you shared with him; however, actions and words like these never failed to ignite his heart with a hopeful fire. But he couldn't allow himself to give into this fantasy, so he maintained his calm appearance and continued savoring the tender chicken, glancing your way with every bite.

2 years ago

Resigning from a company that contributed to a major part of your income was a big decision, but after working overtime for almost a month and not getting a penny for it, that was your limit. You tried complaining only to find out that some legal document under the company's contract deprived you of many rights that were meant for your protection against exploitation. You seriously should've read it all instead of jumping on the opportunity. And with that, you were left with a series of unpaid bills and your unemployed ass. It was hard to find a great job in a short time period, so you went on for various job interviews and took on multiple part-time jobs that paid enough to keep you going for 4 months. It was during this time that you regretted giving up on your previous job, as the list of redirected emails to inform you that your interest was appreciated but another candidate was chosen for the job was taking a toll on you.

In all honesty, your confidence had hit rock bottom. You really thought you were something, that you stood a chance, only to discover how ignorant you were. It was scary—the prices of basic amenities, the rent, your sister's education, and her growing demands. Falling into a cycle of self-hatred, you slowly forgot about yourself, your needs, and your health; life became all about work. If you wanted to exist in the world, you had to be stable economically; money's everything, and you felt utterly useless. What were you even doing? What were you doing with your life? Did you not have any aspirations? Were you nothing but a fucking coward who gave up the moment things got hard? At the young age of 24, you were having an existential crisis. You were comparing yourself to every person your age who had accomplished more than you ever could, and there was no end to it. Though the vicious cycle did come to an end the day you came across a former classmate Nanami Kento while on a grocery run.

"Oh, I think you dropped th-,", Nanami stopped mid-sentence as he stood astonished, looking at the woman who had dropped her cereal box.

"Nanami! Is that you?", you asked in shock.

Let's just say that the grocery run took way longer than it should have as you both dropped by a cafe to catch up. It was refreshing talking about random things to someone your age, someone you knew. You had to admit that Nanami had changed, not only looking more approachable, but it seemed like he finally had no issue talking to people, you were happy for him, and since you wanted to keep it that way, you kept yourself from inquiring about his job. After a good two hours, you exchanged numbers and bid each other farewell. It turned out to be a great day, as that very day, you were offered a job at a MNC with phenomenal pay, but here's the catch: as you went through the documentation process, you learned that the position of secretary was offered to you. That was shocking, as your credentials and experience were suited more for the marketing department, and you were concerned about the legitimacy of the offer because no one pays that much to a secretary; however, beggars can't be choosers, so you accepted the offer right away.

On your joining day, the morning routine started earlier than usual, as you wanted everything to be perfect, from your fit to your timing. After having breakfast with your sister, you left for work, reaching ahead of time to leave a good impression. The building seemed fancy, with a sweet receptionist who directed you to your new boss, warning you not to enter his office until he called for you. That was weird, but maybe it was because your boss was busy. And it turned out that he was actually busy...fucking a woman, who came out of his office with disheveled hair. It was after you waited for a long time that he called you inside.

He was on his cellphone when you entered the office, wearing a tasteful tuxedo with a matching watch that went well with his blonde hair, leaning back on his chair, ignoring your presence. As you were about to introduce yourself, he raised his index finger to his lips, saying, "Shhh...you must be the new one. I'm Naoya Zenin, head of the consulting department and you must call me Sir."

Ch 2

Series Masterlist

[fairfoxie]

I think I'm finally ready to talk about this.

Last year a psychiatrist told me that I present with signs of BPD. Learning more about it helped a lot of parts of my life make more sense. I get my feelings hurt much more easily than the people around me. I tend to think that people hate me a lot more often than they actually do. I get rejection-sensitive dysphoria for seemingly innocuous reasons. I tend to love people more than they love me. And I hold grudges for way longer than I'm comfortable with.

And I only just realized - when I read old Faery folklore, similar themes come up. Faeries are often described as being highly sensitive, easily offended, and unexpectedly turning on people when slighted even a little bit. Due to people not understanding what exactly sets them off, they have been misunderstood and demonized.

And yknow what? So have people with BPD. Some people assume that people with BPD are inherently manipulative and abusive, the same way it is assumed that Faeries are inherently malevolent and wrathful. And yet in both cases, patience, kindness, and understanding reveal us to be incredibly loyal friends.

And I find it empowering, then, to relate so deeply to an entity that has the ability to so effectively stand up for themselves, that "Don't fuck with the Faeries" is a common refrain. Maybe one day it will be spoken out of respect and sensitivity, rather than out of fear. Don't fuck with us, not because we can hurt you back (we can), but because you'd hurt our feelings. Doesn't everyone deserve kindness?

[nothingunrealistic]

24, alana & jared?

24. “Should I call my lawyer?”

Alana tracks him down during lunch in a dusty corner of the library. It was, Jared will admit, a tactical error to hide out here knowing it’s her go-to study spot as well as Connor Project HQ, but his English paper won’t finish itself in the next ninety minutes, and the drama classroom at lunchtime isn’t conducive to doing one’s homework even when one isn’t on the outs with half the drama club, and they took his key to the control booth when he quit tech for the fall play. Really, he had no choice.

“Jared,” Alana says. She looks tired. Sounds like it, too. “You’ve read the emails between Evan and Connor, right?”

Has he ever. “Skimmed ‘em,” Jared says. “Three out of five stars. Great pathos, but too repetitive. ‘Dear Evan Hansen, my parents just don’t understand me.’ ‘Dear Connor Murphy, look at this tree and you’ll feel better.’ Why, is there gonna be a pop quiz?”

Alana frowns. He wonders if she’s offended by his irreverence about the emails and expects him to quote them like Torah verses. Then she pulls out a chair and sits down, slowly, and he thinks there’s a fire drill happening before realizing it’s the alarm bells going off in his head.

“Was there anything in them that didn’t make sense to you?”

Fuck. “Like what?” Jared says, then kicks himself for not just saying no, not really and ending the conversation.

“Like…” Alana digs out her phone. “The emails from June say that’s when Evan broke his arm. He and Connor talk about it a lot. But Evan still had a cast in September.”

“So?”

“Broken arms only take two months to heal on average.”

Damn Evan and his inability to stick to a story. Jared had insisted they nail down a timeline somewhere around the tenth email to avoid exactly this, but he’s had a million chances to go off-script, at the Murphys’ house or Connor Project meetings or fucking Instagram. “So he’s not average. Maybe it was a really gnarly break that took three months to heal because he fell from thirty feet up. Or maybe he has brittle bone disease.”

“Jared, this is serious.”

“Osteogenesis imperfecta is very serious. Jodi Picoult —”

“Evan didn’t have a cast in June,” Alana bursts out. “I remember. We were still in school.”

Shit, fuck, and goddamn it. “Did you even know he was alive then?”

“Of course I did. I saw him all the time. And you were with him a lot.” Oh, this is bad. This is DEFCON 5 bad. Or DEFCON 1, whichever is the worst one. “Don’t you remember?”

“Is this an interrogation? Should I call my lawyer?” He’s depleted his arsenal of deflections and distractions. Only one weapon remains: bald-faced lies. “I don’t remember when he got a cast. I didn’t write those emails. I don’t know why you’re asking me about any of this when he’s still walking around.”

“I just…” Alana, amazingly, deflates, rather than pushing back even harder. “I was thinking about all the people watching us. Putting their faith in us. Trusting us with their money. I wanted to know if anyone else was seeing what I was seeing. And I really don’t want to be wrong.”

He won’t feel bad about this. He will not. “Well —”

“But you’re right.” Alana gets up. “I should have asked Evan. I will, the next chance I get.”

“Did I say that?” Jared asks — rhetorically, it turns out; she’s already walking away, braids swishing.

He hasn’t seen Evan since homecoming, hasn’t said a word to him, hasn’t wanted to, and Evan hasn’t tried to break that silence. Should he break it to warn Evan that Alana’s finding the holes in their story — Evan’s story — and headed his way to pry it open?

Really, does Evan deserve it?

(prompts to write drabbles or longer stories)

[fenra-bookswritings]

Hey guys, I just wanted to share a few thoughts on the #Moonvale criticism.

I don't really know how to write this, but somehow I was pretty disappointed with all the fuss about the release of the new episode. Not in Everbyte but more in the community, without wanting to criticize anyone. Everyone can say what they want and I thought it was nice that some of you emphasized several times that this isn't about hate, but about constructive criticism.

I understand the points of anger, but then again, somehow I don't.

AI is interesting for a lot of artists at the moment, which doesn't make it reprehensible. Also the point that AI steals works. Of course that's not good, but honestly it could just be a kind of inspiration. If you look, you'll always find a suitable comparison. Like Arcane. But just because there's a woman with blue hair doesn't mean it has to be a version of Jinx. After all, people look for inspiration everywhere. That doesn't make it a copy. (I understand your point completely, of course, and I don't think stealing from artists is a good thing. I'm an artist myself and can relate to it very well)

And about the diamond system... Sure, they spoiled us a bit with the premium package and the diamonds are quite annoying. But good work is worth paying for. (That doesn't mean that you have to pay $50 for it all the time. Especially because there's no obligation behind it.) I'd rather pay something (and that won't happen more than twice a year at the rate they're releasing) than let this studio go under. After all out there are so many artist who get support through.. money. this game isn't a expectation.

The work they do, the effort, the technology they need, the actors. All the work they do behind the scenes to produce this episode... It was so sad to read all these hate comments after they probably put a lot of effort into it for 2 years. I can well imagine that after the release, they were relieved

and hoped that there would be a little more gratitude. Just because they had written something amazing again. However, it quickly went from comments like "bring Jake back" and "I can't wait" to "the game sucks" "this is shit". But as the saying goes: Nothing is so hard as man's ingratitude. For someone who just consumes, it may be justified. But for people who have put their heart and soul into it, even if they made mistakes, it is extremely devastating. People are so quick to only see the negative that all the good is quickly wasted. If you tear it down, then in most cases the criticism only concerns AI and diamonds. The story is structured very similarly to Duskwood in parts. We even got the introduction of the characters, the time when "unknown" appears, the clues, the relationships and even Jake at the end.

And we can even repeat the episodes as often as we like without losing any progress in the game.

I am definitely in favor of appropriate criticism. There is no need to sugarcoat anything that cannot be sugarcoated. What I was actually trying to say here is that I found it so sad how quickly all the positive things are forgotten because the community is upset about "two" settings.

If you've read this far, thank you. This isn't meant to offend you in any way. I... just wanted to share my thoughts with anyone who's into this and seems to be listening.

Have a nice day everyone 🫶🏻