#and. yeah. i think that's proof enough that i have another dog

[knifegremliin]

you know it's kinda funny that lilo was meant to be a family dog, one we got because my mom wasn't doing well with the loss of our one dog. and when she took me to meet her, i was so apprehensive because i am Not a puppy person at all, and really did NOT want to do a puppy. but i gave in because that little puppy just gave it her ALL trying to convince me.

and now here we are, lilo being very obviously attached to me and me being so unbelievably attached to her (i will not admit this out loud).

something went wrong here (i love her so much)

[saetoru]

RATE MY PROFESSOR! — GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day one — threesomes ; find masterlist here

synopsis. you’re professor gojo’s TA���the catch? you both are romantically involved. what do you do when professor geto happens to accidentally walk in on you giving a blowjob? let him fuck you so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t tell a soul, of course

length. 5.1k words (deep, big, heavy sigh)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, college au, teacher-student relationships, prof! satoru + suguru, TA! reader, power imbalance, age gaps (reader is early twenties and satoru + suguru are early thirties), semi public sex (at campus in satoru’s office), suguru walking in on you and satoru, threesomes, fingering + blowjobs + hair pulling + throat fucking + cum swallowing (satoru), male masturbation + edging (suguru), unprotected sex + (one) clit slap + creampie (suguru), pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, princess, pretty girl, good girl), not proof read—i am a raw dog kinda gal

notes. i would highly discourage having intimate relations with a professor—but….if your professor looks like gojo or geto, i’m blind babe. i ain’t see nothing. i won’t tell a soul

“you guys wanna get lunch?” nobara hums, “we’re all here.”

megumi, as always, looks like he’s about to say no—he probably wants to go home as quickly as possible. but that’s not an option because before he can, yuji has already piped up with an enthusiastic, “yeah! i’m down.”

you fiddle your fingers nervously—how are you supposed to get out of this one? you’d just used the excuse of grading assignments for satoru yesterday, and surely you couldn’t possibly have a fresh pile of them to grade again within twenty-four hours, right? it’d be a suspicious excuse, especially one for nobara, who seems to sniff out a lie a little too easily. 

it’s not that you don’t want to hang out with your friends, you love them. really. but you promised you’d be in satoru’s office in fifteen minutes—and you’re not about to keep him waiting, so lunch will have to wait for another time.

you’re still thinking of a usable excuse when she turns to you herself, unimpressed as she dryly says, “i assume you have some midterm review to help him polish or something,” she grumbles, “gojo is so lazy,” she scoffs.

oh—well, that wasn’t very hard. she’s just made it ten times easier for you. nobara has handed you the perfect excuse right in the palm of your hand, and before you can even play it off casually, yuji cuts in and distracts her. bless yuji, you think to yourself.

“hey, professor gojo is a great guy! we all passed with an A! isn’t that great?”

“everyone gets an A in his class, dumbass,” megumi grunts, rolling his eyes, “not getting an A in his class practically means you’re deliberately trying to do poorly.”

on campus, professor gojo is a fan favorite—his rate my professor score is a perfect five stars, and most of the students around campus rave about him. why? because he gives out the letter grade A+ like it’s candy. anyone would love a professor like that. 

he doesn’t ever take attendance or knock your grade down when you skip class, his assignments are always easy to google answers to, and the quizzes have unlimited time and attempts. his tests are straightforward enough that even if you never pay attention, doing the review he uploads is sure to help you cram enough to pass. and what’s better? he always adds a generous curve. not only that, but professor gojo is a friendly guy—he loves talking to his students, loves to ramble away if you stop him in the halls or visit during office hours, loves to listen to your stories and nod along in interest, loves to crack jokes and have a good laugh.

everyone loves professor gojo. and when they leave his class with an A+, they love him even more. 

you had an A+ in physics yourself when you took his class—and you hate physics. you hated it in high school, and you hate it now. but for gojo satoru? you’re almost a physics enthusiast. professor gojo—or rather, satoru, as you call him now, takes a liking to you. a very…strong liking, if you will. 

it all starts on a fateful monday afternoon two semesters ago—it’s one thirty pm, the busiest hour on campus. sometimes, it feels like everyone takes classes at one pm—and as such, getting a table in the university coffee shop is almost impossible. you’re just about to give up and leave with your coffee and sandwich after scanning the place when a wave of a hand catches your attention. 

it’s professor gojo. 

need a seat? he asks you, gesturing at the chair in front of him at his table—it’s a smooth, amused little drawl, the way he talks. it’s almost always a borderline teasing tone, and his voice is low enough that it sounds oddly enticing. you’ve heard enough girls lust over his voice in class to know you’re not the only one who sometimes appreciates the sound. 

you try to insist that you wouldn’t want to intrude, but professor gojo is a nice guy; always looks out for his students and helps them out. so, when he insists that he doesn’t mind you taking the spare seat as he grades a few assignments, well…you decide to sheepishly thank him and sit across from him, finally having somewhere to sit and eat before you’re off to your next class. 

and then it begins.

every now and then, you sit across from your physics professor in the crowded coffee shop on campus as you enjoy a cold brew and a sandwich before your next class. somehow, he always manages to snatch a table, and somehow, you always manage to find him. you like to ramble to him sometimes—how professor nanami is a bit too strict for your liking (he giggles at that), how professor ieri always seems too tired and miserable to be here (he nods and agrees), and how professor geto is nice, but he takes literature pretty seriously (he gives you an amused look at that as he hums.)

somewhere along the line, he asks you to be his TA for the following semester—and somewhere further along that line…well, perhaps the one-on-one talks as you sit together at a table for two felt a little too close to something of a romantic setting because you and professor gojo kiss in his office while he calls you in to explain your TA responsibilities. 

that was never supposed to happen. 

you don’t even remember who leaned in first, or whose arms were the first to wrap around the other, or who tugged who closer, but you both kiss. and then some. and then it happens again, and again, and again—and, well…you’re professor gojo’s, or better yet, satoru’s best kept secret.

you go to his office to grade assignments for him—in between if he steals a few kisses, who’s to know? sometimes, he’s a bit riskier, likes to spread his legs and free his cock and have your hand stroke him as he eyes the door. it’s always a nice view to watch him unbutton a few buttons of his shirt and bite back moans. other days, he likes to slip his hand past your waistband and toy with your clit—the amused glint in his eyes, as he tells you not to get distracted and keep grading when you gasp always, earns him a sharp glare.

it’s like that for the semester, just you and him in his little office where you can break the rules in the safety of secrecy. 

that is, until now. 

admittedly, this isn’t the best time to be doing this—professor geto likes to have lunch with satoru around this time, and you know you’re cutting it close…but he just looks so pretty like this, head fallen back against his chair as his lips part with a soft gasp.

you’re on your knees, looking up as you suck on the tip of his stiff cock before taking him down your throat, bobbing your head up and down. it’s a rewarding position to be in—to have the hot, loved, campus favorite professor that everyone thirsts over falling apart in your mouth, hands gripping the arms of his chair as he pants harshly above you.

he looks pretty—always does, always looks good enough that you can feel the ache between your legs get worse. the messy strands of his hair stick to his damp forehead, and his lips are always so pink and plump when he bites them like that, and who can forget the way his eyes turn just a shade darker of that bright blue?

you hum around him, making him groan as he mumbles, “f-fuck, you’re so good, sweetheart—always know how to make me feel good.”

you press a kiss to his tip, smearing the bead of pre cum leaking from his slit along your lips before licking them clean—he closes his eyes and groans at that. you can’t help but giggle, can’t help but press more kisses along his hardened length until you’re at the base of his cock. 

“pretty little lips,” he hums, reaching to rub his thumb over your bottom lip as you open your mouth, letting him slip into your mouth—he hums approvingly as your tongue swirls around the digit, sucking slowly. “‘s like you were made for taking me, huh?”

“‘course i was,” you grin cheekily—and then you’re back to sucking on his cock, tongue rubbing over that thick vein you love to trace and reaching a hand to play with his balls. he moans—it’s low but still whiny enough that you can’t help but feel so proud at how needy he is, how desperately he always wants you. no matter the risk.

except the risk is probably not the wisest one to test today because just as satoru lets out a particularly loud whine when you swallow around him, the door clicks open and…

oh. 

oh no. 

this…this isn’t good—this is terrible, in fact. this is the worst possible outcome to the worst possible thing you’ve done, and now you’re screwed. entirely destroyed, in fact—the both of you. here goes your admission and your progress on your degree, and here goes satoru’s entire career and everything he’s worked for, and all because you couldn’t help but give him a blowjob in the middle of his office with the door unlocked where his best friend can walk right in and get a full view.

and worse? this best friend of his happens to be another professor on campus who you happen to have had just last semester. you’re sure he knows you; you’re his former student, after all, and he must certainly know his best friend’s TA. 

professor geto blinks—his eyes go back and forth between you and satoru and the still-hard cock between his legs that’s glistening with your spit as you sit on your knees. yeah—there’s no explaining this one.

“well,” he says blankly, “i guess that’s on me for not knocking, huh?”

“suguru,” satoru grumbles, “some of us are busy y’know? can’t you come back later?”

you turn to satoru in shock—how can he be so normal about this? how can he just casually act like this is some random hook-up his friend walked in on instead of a (very illegal and very unprofessional) teacher-student relationship that could get the two of you in more trouble than you can comprehend? 

but professor geto doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned. there’s no look of disgust or panic or even anger at you and satoru for your unprofessional habits. there’s no alarm at the distasteful activities you’re doing in the middle of a university office where anyone could potentially walk in on. and then there’s satoru—he doesn’t even bother making himself decent or pulling you from your knees.

no, instead, he looks at professor geto in slight irritation as the latter stands there. 

“so this is what you’re always busy doing in your office, huh?” professor geto hums, chuckling in amusement, “i have to say, you at least have good taste, satoru. she’s excellent in and outside the classroom, it seems.”

“yeah, she’s a keeper,” satoru hums, cupping your cheek as he grins down at you, “now if you don’t mind, suguru, we’re in the middle of something.”

“and what do you plan on doing if this gets around?” professor geto raises a brow, unimpressed.

you look at him in panic at that—surely…surely he can’t mean that he would be the one to spread this around, right? surely he wouldn’t throw his best friend under the bus, correct? if not for you, then for satoru’s sake, he’d never let this information find another soul. otherwise…otherwise you’ll both lose everything. all the hard work and progress you’ve made, all of satoru’s experience and years building his career, and all the future opportunities you had coming up—all of it will be for nothing if professor geto says one word. 

people wouldn’t have a hard time believing it either, you think. sometimes your own friends like to poke fun at you themselves. 

you’re always with him, are you sure you’re not in love with the guy at this point? nobara always likes to snort at you.

why does professor gojo even keep you around? you’re too lazy—you must give good head, megumi tends to tease as he raises a brow with amused eyes.

with how often you’re in professor gojo’s room, you might as well have a crush on him, yuji sometimes giggles.

surely, with how often you’re seen in the coffee shop with him as he grades papers and how often he likes to tease you when you show up to his classroom sometimes to drop off papers, students would certainly take the rumors and spread them like wildfire if professor geto says even the littlest thing. 

you look at him with wobbly lips as you whisper, “please don’t tell anyone,” you sniffle, “i…maybe there’s something we can do…to keep you from…”

the two of them look at you in shock—they stare at you for a moment, stare at the crystalline tears welling up in your eyes, at the soft little tremor in your lips, at the sweet little sniffles you try to hide. then, as if in sync, their eyes meet each other’s before finding you once more.

“oh, that’s precious,” professor geto chuckles, “she really is a keeper, satoru—she even looks pretty when she cries. i’m almost jealous.”

“don’t look for too long, suguru,” satoru grumbles—and then, “listen, sweetheart, you don’t have to worry. suguru’s not gonna—”

“well, if there is something you’d wanna do for me,” professor geto cuts satoru off, his voice a low drawl as he walks closer, hand cupping your jaw as he tilts your face up, “i suppose i can keep my mouth shut.”

“anything,” you nod quickly.

you’re so eager to please, he thinks—so perfect and sweet and pliant, that suguru thinks he might actually really be jealous that somehow, it was satoru who caught your attention. how did this all start? when did it start? how long has it been going on? do you have real feelings for each other? or is it just a pleasurable business kind of deal? do you meet up outside of campus? does he take you to the next town over to freely walk around with you on dates? do you kiss sweetly sometimes instead of with hunger? have you ever spent a night in his bed? do you sleep better beside each other, wrapped in the other’s arms?

there are so many, many questions suguru wants to ask. the potential answers to all of them make him a bit more unhappy than he cares to admit. something in him wonders how things might’ve had to play out in order to land you in his office instead—but…but if you’re offering anything, why not take advantage of the offer?

“anything?” he asks, looking at you amused, “you know, princess, anything is a dangerous offer. what if i asked to join? what if i asked to fuck you here in this office so your secret is safe?”

you blink up at him for a moment at his words—they’re a bit shocking. professor geto…doesn’t think this is wrong? clearly, he doesn’t if he’s willing to take part. but that doesn’t sound half bad. not even in the slightest. 

they’re a popular pair: professor gojo and geto are all people on campus ever talk about. those two professors who happen to be best friends. they’re not much older than you either—can’t be past their early thirties, even if they don’t look a day over twenty. 

did you know they used to go to college together? i heard they’ve known each other since high school. apparently, they applied to work here together and only took the offer up once the other agreed. it’s all people ever gossip about when they mention them both. it’s always about how close they are, how deep their bond is, how there is never one without the other. and then, of course, there are those…the less than appropriate comments you occasionally hear the other girls make. i bet professor gojo gives the best head—he’s always sucking on some lollipop. i’d let professor geto do nasty things to me while i read his literature books out loud to him—he’s too fine. i can take both of them—and i don’t mean their classes. 

it’s…not exactly a bad offer that he gives you, you think to yourself. it’s an enticing one, in fact. you get to have them both—professor geto isn’t any less attractive than satoru and…and well, you’d really like for him to keep this a secret, so it’s a bit of a win-win. plus, you’re sure he wouldn’t risk spilling such delicate information when it would put his career at risk, too—it seems like the perfect leverage.

you look at your old literature professor with a nod as you murmur, “then i’d say you should make sure to lock the door this time—we don’t want to make the same mistake twice, do we?”

his eyes sparkle in amusement at that, a low chuckle falling from his pretty lips as he shakes his head at you—you’re even better than he expected. satoru is so, so lucky he’s got to have you to himself all this time. it’s criminally unfair. 

“hey,” satoru pouts from behind, still sitting in his chair and still painfully hard as his throbbing cock sits between his legs unattended. “you both are forgetting about me,” he whines.

professor geto—or rather, suguru, you suppose, only looks at his best friend in amusement. “now, satoru—what have i always told you about sharing? here—” he walks over and pulls satoru to stand before taking the seat himself and patting his thigh as he looks at you with a sly grin, “why don’t i get to feel your pussy, and satoru can have your mouth like before? then we both get what we want.”

“bossy as ever, suguru,” satoru chuckles, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker and more excited than you’ve ever seen them.

“get her ready for me,” suguru hums, fingers making quick work to unbuckle his belt and free his hardened cock. you can’t help but stare, can’t help but watch as he wraps his fist around his hardened length and runs his thumb through his slit with a low moan. 

he’s not as long, but he’s thicker than satoru—you can easily tell he won’t be any easier to take. you watch attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of his cock with this thumb as he strokes upward, rolling around his tip before stroking down and squeezing at the base. you watch his lips tug between his teeth, a soft moan ripping from his throat as he touches himself in the way he likes best.

you’ll remember what he likes, you think—you can sense this might not be your first and last opportunity to see suguru like this. and next time? well, next time, it’ll be your hand touching his cock and pulling those pretty little sighs and groans from him instead of his own.

“eyes on me, sweetheart,” satoru hums, pulling you to stand before gently guiding your back to fall against his desk, fingers looping into your waistband and pulling your pants down your legs. you can hear the sharp inhale suguru takes as soon as the wetness of your folds is on display, as soon as your puffy clit and dripping pussy are there for him to see so clearly. “watch carefully, suguru,” satoru grins, “she’s pretty when she cums.”

“i can imagine,” suguru muses, “alright then. show me.”

instantly, satoru’s fingers are intruding into your cunt—it’s familiar, the sensation of his digits bullying past your folds and curling against your sweet spot. he’s already knuckles deep, already pressing the tips of his fingers into the back of your walls as far as they’ll go, spreading you open and scissoring you apart. it feels good—it always does, and when his palm rolls across your clit? you can’t help but let out a whiny moan that earns a groan from suguru as he fists his cock tighter. 

“god, she even sounds so pretty,” he pants, watching as satoru’s fingers slip in and out of your pretty cunt, at the way it all but sucks them in itself as it flutters around him. everything about you is perfect—but your face is by far suguru’s favorite. the way it twists with pleasure as satoru slams his fingers against your spot mercilessly with every thrust of his wrist has him fighting off his orgasm—his fist slowing down to a teasing edge as he grunts at the way he lets his pleasure die down for the sake of really feeling you. 

“that feel good, angel?” satoru asks, grinning down at you. 

you nod quickly, head thrown back against the wooden desk as you stutter, “y-yes…s-so good, toru.”

“toru?” suguru asks, “do i get a nickname too? make sure you come up with one for me, yeah?”

it’s almost like you don’t hear him, too busy on the way satoru drags along your walls with every time his fingers sink into you. “toru, toru—s-slow down, ‘m g-gonna…”

“slow down?” satoru gasps—his pace only quickens at that as he gives you a mocking pout, “you want me to slow down, sweetheart? you never ask me to slow down, it’s always faster, toru. faster, please! from you. you don’t wanna give suguru the wrong idea, do you? he’ll think i haven’t taught you how to take it like a good girl.”

suguru snorts at that, slowly dragging his hand up and down his sensitive cock—it’s red at the tip, flushed, and leaky enough that it’s easy to tell he’s aching for release.

“hurry up, satoru,” he grits, biting his lip as he fights back another orgasm and stills his hand, keeping it tightened around the base of his length, “we haven’t got all day.”

“can’t rush making my pretty girl cum, suguru,” satoru gasps, “she deserves the best. look at this pussy—” he gives pulls his fingers out to give your clit attention, rubbing your slick over the sensitive bud as you gasp, writhing over his desk, “—see how perfect it is? you gotta treat it like that too.”

as if from his words alone, as if you get off on the way satoru praises your cunt to his best friend who watches you get stuffed to the brim with his fingers, you whimper before cumming—your pussy fluttering around nothing, walls spasming and dripping with slick as he toys with your clit. 

“toru—toru, ‘m cumming…cumming—oh,” you babble, thighs quivering as his thumb doesn’t let up from your abused clit, watching as your hand reaches for his wrist weakly to halt his movements. “‘s too much,” you sniffle.

“too much?” suguru gasps, “how will you take me, then, princess? don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?”

“nah,” satoru grins, chuckling, “she’s got plenty left in her. she can take it.” with that, he hooks an arm under your waist and helps you sit up, leaning down to kiss you softly as you let out a muffled whine against his lips. “you’re ready for suguru, aren’t you, baby? prepped you nice and good to take him, didn’t i?”

you nod, mumbling a soft, “uh huh,” in agreement.

“that’s my good girl,” he coos, grinning as he presses a wet kiss to your forehead. 

suguru, patient as ever with a stiff, aching cock standing between his muscled thighs, holds an arm out for you as he murmurs, “c’mere then, princess. can’t back out of our deal yet, can you?” you walk over to him on wobbly legs, letting him pull you to sit on his lap, back flush against his chest as his hands guide your hips. he taps the head of his cock against your clit as he lines your entrance up with his length before pulling you to sit, slowly inching you down on him bit by bit as he gasps at the way you squeeze around him instantly. “h-holy—fuck, such a tight fuckin’ pussy. ‘s like i can barely even move,” he grunts, chin resting on your shoulder as he pants.

satoru walks over, staring down at you as you’re seated on suguru’s lap before cupping your cheek and rubbing over the soft skin with his thumb. “you can take both of us, right sweetheart? you’re just too good not to, aren’t ya?”

you nod eagerly, letting the tip of his cock tap against your lip, tongue moving to lick across his slit and make him groan. he’s painfully hard—cock swollen and neglected for so long, you almost forgot that he’s been waiting for your mouth to take him again after being interrupted. your jaw slacks as you let him thrust his hips and fuck his length into you, tip hitting the back of your throat as you choke around him. 

“fuck,” satoru hisses lowly, biting his lip as his hands grab your hair and keep you in place while he ruts into your mouth, “fuck, baby. never get tired of how good this mouth feels—takes me so fuckin’ well. jus’ love feelin’ me down your throat, huh?”

you can’t do anything but let out a muffled cry, feeling the fat tip of suguru’s cock nudge against your sweet spot—it’s just as effortless: the way he finds your most sensitive part. just as effortless as satoru. maybe that’s why they get along so well, maybe they’re connected in that way. 

“oh, princess,” suguru moans, panting against your ear as he lets out a breathy moan, “fuck, that’s good—so, good. can hardly move with the way you’re squeezing me. greedy little pussy, isn’t it?”

you whine as you feel his arm wrap around you, finger rolling over your puffy clit as his hips snap upwards and fuck into you, cock dragging along your walls and stretching you enough that you can hardly think straight. he’s big—it feels like he’s almost splitting you open with his girth as his hips roll up and sink him deeper into your cunt.

“she’s…she’s perfect,” suguru pants, “keepin’ this all to yourself? how selfish of you, satoru.”

“she’s mine,” satoru whines, cock pushing past your lips as he speaks, the way your tongue glides along his vein making his cheeks flush as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open with a breathless moan. “she’s too good to share with you. you d-don’t deserve her.”

“yeah? and you do?” suguru chuckles—it sounds more like a labored pant, his breath harsh as he groans into your neck when you flutter particularly tightly around him, forehead falling to dig into your shoulder, “she’s suckin’ me in. think she wants me. don’t you, pretty girl? you want me to cum inside you, right? make you mine too?”

“y-yes,” you mewl, popping off satoru’s length as you whimper when suguru chuckles and gives your clit a light slap, back arching against him as he pushes his cock past your folds again, “yes, wan’ it. wan’ it so, so bad—need it.”

“see,” he raises a brow towards satoru, “knew it.”

you can see the way satoru’s cock twitches at that—at the way you fall apart on suguru’s lap as the latter digs his head into your shoulder as he breathes harshly, chasing his release desperately as he ruts into your slick pussy. you can see the way satoru’s tip is flushed a harsh red, leaking with pre cum as he aches to spill cum down your throat, so you let him push past your lips once more—but not before giving his tip a delicate kiss. 

“she’s my girl,” satoru grunts, “mine, mine, mine—knows how to make me cum. kn-knows how to take me so good, right baby?”

and as if to answer him, you suck around his tip, swallowing around his length and making him groan as his hips stutter and cum paints your throat white as it fills your mouth. you try to swallow every drop, try to take what he gives you as he fucks into you desperately and chases the pleasure of his high. thick, hot ropes of cum spill from the corners of your lips as satoru fucks his load into you, panting as his hips sloppily roll and work himself through his orgasm.

“that’s right, sweetheart,” he groans lowly, “take it, yeah? god—fuck, feels so good, baby. ‘m c-cumming.”

you make a sound between a choked whine and sharp gasp as suguru’s thumb rubs harshly against your swollen clit, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he groans, hips just as sloppy as satoru’s in his pace that it tells you he’s close too—and then he twitches into your pussy, cock burying into you once, twice, three more times before he groans too.

“gonna cum, princess? ‘cause ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum—fill you up and make you mine. you want that right? want me to—f-fuck, fuck ‘m close, so close,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, letting out a needy whine into your skin before spilling into you. you can feel hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as his tip nudges back into you and pushes his load as deep as he can.

and you fall apart too, coming undone a second time as your walls hug around him tightly, head falling back as you mewl a high pitched, “s-sugu—c-can’t…’s too much—”

“you can take it, pretty,” he hums, “know you can. you’re too precious not to, right?”

it’s messy—it’s downright filthy, in fact, the way his cum and your slick mix and drip along your inner thighs, making a mess on satoru’s chair. you pant as your pussy pulses around him before coming down from your high, falling slack in his arms against his chest as he chuckles and presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“fuck,” he breathes, “you’re something else. who’d have thought my favorite little student from a previous semester could do all that?”

“isn’t she a dime?” satoru chuckles proudly, reaching for the corner of your mouth with his thumb, collecting a stray drop of cum and pushing it back past your lips and onto your tongue, humming approvingly as you swallow. “precious, isn’t she?”

“of course,” suguru nods, with a grin, leaning to peck your shoulder, “so, tell me. which professor would you take again?”

satoru purses his lips as he glares. “this isn’t rate my professor, suguru. and don’t get used to thi—”

“well,” you hum, interrupting as you bat your lashes sweetly at both of them, “why i can’t just take both of you again?”

guess who’s posting their october first kinktober fic literally 40 mins before it’s october second ?? if it’s not procrastinated, it’s not reached its full potential

[ms-demeanor]

(Bat 1/?) I fully support your fight to help those feral cats and all you do to educate people about the importance of keeping your damn cats indoors. I wanted to provide another example to your readers about the importance of staying up to date on rabies vaccines, even for fully indoor kitties. I have seven cats and a dog, most of whom sleep with me. Two years ago, I was woken up at 5 am by what I thought was a broken alarm or some crazy digital screeching. A bat somehow got into the house.

Continued:

(Bat 2/?) I quickly closed the bedroom door, locking the dog and three cats inside. Two cats were hunting the bat and had injured its wing, causing it to flop into a room with another cat. I grabbed Friday before she could kill the bat and threw her into a crate I keep in the studio (crates are out at all times and in every room). I threw a box over the injured bat and then found leather gloves. I slid a folder under the box and transferred the bat to another box lined with paper towels.

(Bat 3/?) I made sure I never touched the bat, even with gloves on. Bat was secured in the box for transport to the wildlife center when they opened. And then I isolated Minnow, Fig, and Friday from the other cats. When I got to the rec center, she said they could repair the bat's wing, but the exposed cats needed to get rabies boosters ASAP and she was required to report the incident to the CDC. My cats rabies vaccines were out of date, but they had them in the past and I had proof.

(Bat 4/4) Having proof of those past vaccines literally saved their lives. The CDC could have seized them and put them down. The vet said I had to quarantine them for 40 days- no petting or handling them; just give them food, water, and clean the boxes. It was hell for them and me and Minnow still won't go near a large crate years later. I escaped needing shots myself because I never touched the bat. So, yeah, get your indoor pets vaccinated! You never know when a bat or raccoon will get in.

That is so scary and such a great example of why it's important to keep vaccines up to date! Good job on your quick thinking with the box to trap the vet, and on isolating your animals to keep them safe! I'm so glad you and your pets weren't hurt beyond the stress of the extended quarantine!

The CDC and local health departments are *extremely, extremely* serious about possible rabies infections, so having proof of vaccination can be a literal lifesaver for your pets and getting them vaccinated is good peace of mind for you.

It *terrifies* me that Tiny Bastard has interacted with skunks recently and I don't think she's gotten close enough to be at risk but even if she had I know exactly when she's due for her rabies vaccine so I know that she's current and safe even though she got closer than I would like to a wild animal.

[sk3tch404]

Yandere Donnie Darko Hcs

A/n: I finally came around to watching Donnie Darko while I was styling my hair this morning. It was so good and omgg HIS CHARACTER!!! Love it 💜 What he voices in where he rebels against authority resonates with me in the most honest and straight up sense, it's crazy.

CW: Characterizing of psychosis without research (I am in no way claiming this is how individuals who suffer some psychosis or with schizophrenic symptoms act or feel like. This is simply a work of fiction and how I see Donnie's mental state affect the scenario), Donnie is actually very tame here except for his obvious criminal record and acts of violence, and YALL HES A MENTALLY ILL TEENAGE BOY so he's a lowkey soft okay. Y'all see him with Gretchen? So caring and passionate ugh, love him sm. <33 I try to write as close to canon as possible, but sometimes that leads to really soft yans and I kind of doubt my writing. Despite that. I like to think that not all yanderes need to be possessive killing machines in order to fit into the troupe. Everyone's got their own way of dealing with obsession, and so I think I did decently with this one lol.

Proof read a few times, so sorry for wordy/run on sentences and possible wonky grammar.

I feel like Donnie is very observant and patient with his darling. He's quite analytical for a teenage boy which leads him to take time to consider the variables that weigh within your possible relationship.

Donnie is still an awkward kid, so dont be surprised when you accidentally find him staring at you for a considerable period of time in class. In school, he doesn't approach you, seeing as the setting is already suffocating enough. He'd try to catch you after school or when you two have a little bit of privacy.

He's kinda shy and clumsy at first glance--- too talkative in his speech and self-aware of his minor fuck ups. Over time, he'll be more open to what he wants with you. Donnie might not really understand how to handle love and all of its complexities, but hell try really hard to make it work.

Yeah, y'all saw how fast he dived in for that kiss in the film?... Embarrassing, but it's true that he's quite excited to show his affection for you. He'll be "so chill with it," and he is to an extent--- not too clingy at all--- but when he's around he gives you guard dog privileges. Stays at your side and defends you from any brain rotting comments made from the guys around the neighborhood. Donnie isn't much of a fighter, but he's damn well capable of planning and executing a crime if it calls for it. One count of arson, another unaccounted for, severe property damage, and murder? Don't doubt it for one second that he won't consider further acts in the future to come.

His psychosis affects him directly when it comes to you--- as it also does with most things. He already feels so shitty with how things are going in his life, Frank voicing the many thoughts he has about you day to day stresses him further. Sometimes Donnie is scared Frank will convince him to hurt you as the countdown progresses. Despite that fear, he can't keep away from you.

This distress causes Donnie to rebel more often. As he spirals down the rabbit hole Frank keeps digging for him, the anxiety that follows with what will happen to you once the world ends lingers late at night in his bed.

Donnie's main love language is quality time. He walks with you from school and chills with you pretty much wherever. He's pretty book-smart, so he'll pitch in with your projects and homework assignments. His parents don't really seem like they care what he does most of the time, so if he's given the chance, he'll crash at your place for a few before they think he's off sleepwalking or some shit.

Donnie already knows he's slipping off the rails, placebo medication or not, Frank stays to stir the pot. He's almost scared, scared to death that you'll think he's an insane lunatic and he'll scare you off. But at the same time, why be scared if it's the truth? He has evidence, the book, and his own visions. That anxiety doesn't go away when he rambles on about the six-foot-tall bunny rabbit and how that thing has led him to the method of time travel.

You're just left there dumb founded as he stares on at you with that deadpanned look. Too late to back out now. World's ending and you don't got a boyfriend. Well, you got Donnie... and Frank's there too sometimes, but either way, you're all each other's got. You don't want to be alone do you? Donnie knows he doesn't.

He trusts you more than anyone else. Yeah he's on meds, and sure he's loony, but everyone knows that already; not that they seemed to care too much anyway. He feels like he can just exist with you around. All that pent up frustration with the looming guilt of his actions festering inside can be washed out like waves on a cold shore. Of course, it's not a cure-all, but it's damn nice compared to the bone headed friends he got and the tense dinner table back at home.

He has scratch paper in his drawers that are just filled with messy sketches of you. Not sure if he'd be the type to use sketchbooks, but he is pretty organized in his own room. Donnie just finds you so easy and beautiful to draw. Art block has nothing on this boy. He hates it when his sisters barge into his room and see any unfinished piece of you lying around. They tease him so bad about it, he wishes they'd just leave him alone.

"Ooo, is this the girl you're always wasting your time with?"

"No, gimme it. It's none of your business, and get out of my room."

"Geez, fine. Not like that's the freakiest thing you got in here anyway."

Donnie wouldn't be the extreme stalking type, but if he caught a glance of you, he wouldn't be able to look away. He'd also take into account what your daily patterns are as well as your likes and dislikes. He notices your little habits like if you constantly apply too much pressure to your mechanical pencil, making your lead break. He's always have had a passive opinion on the school uniform, but you made it look good, great even. Donnie likes it even more seeing you in street wear. He takes note on your style and even thinks of taking some inspiration from it to feel closer to you.

He's sensitive in places a teenager would be in most. He's irritable and closed off much of the time, even to you if it gets bad enough. Of course, it's not your fault usually. It only makes sense to be defensive in the case of anything he may perceive as a threat, even if that means any possibility of you breaking his heart.

Donnie may be a bit shy in his advances, but what he isn't is hesitant. He's quite bold in his thoughts and feelings. While he is afraid of your judgement in particular, he doesn't mind doing many things in front of you. Your collar is crooked, so let him just fix it up real quick. Talk about something that's got him thinking? He's letting his thoughts pour out like it's happy hour. He sees no issue in doing what he wants to, so if you're feeling unsure or nervous about something, he'll be the one to do it for you. Not many questions asked unless it's got his serious attention.

Kisses are passionate and deep. (Tbh when I first watched the movie I was like, "DAMN dont eat her face- shit.") I dont know if Donnie has had previous experience or not, but he's definitely got the enthusiasm. He tries to match your rhythm if you seem to have trouble following. Not too much tongue, but best believe he's devouring your lips like it's the last 6 hours in the universe. His hands are roaming around your body, feeling the dips and curves so cautiously because Jesus, you're just rocking his fucking world. If you tell him to slow down, he will. Donnie never wants to force you to do anything you wouldn't want to.

Words of affirmation aren't really a thing for him. If he says something to you, it was probably on his mind anyway. If you say "I love you" to him, he'd be almost stunned but wouldn't have a problem reciprocating that energy. He just felt like that connection between you two was already clear enough. No need to say it so directly. Although, it's nice. He really loves and cares for you. Would take a bullet for you--- cross his heart till he dies, all that sappy shit.

If you reject him, let's just say Frank and Donnie will be speaking more often. It pushes him off the edge. Frank isn't in Donnie's head just to do evil shit, but it's not like his presence doesn't perpetuate Donnie's behavior further. He wouldn't go on a killing spree or anything excessively violent like that. He'd be hyper-focused on the time travel aspect of his situation and become more forceful in his methods. He'd demand answers to make sense of all of it. To cope with the fact you didn't want him like how he needed you. Why didn't you like him enough? What didn't he do? Actually, what did he do? His mind feels like its on the brink of breaking as he tries to rationalize all the negativity in his life. He's already done too much, his world feels like it's collapsing in on itself before the actual day could even come. You were a majority of that world, and now it's just broken.

Donnie is so distraught and confused about his adolescent experiences, he almost doesn't know what to do. The only thing to do from then on is to focus on the countdown. Time travel, and how to fix it all. Otherwise, not only would he be left alone, but you would be too. Donnie wouldn't want that for you, not ever. Even with all the pain and frustration stowed away inside his still beating heart, he would never wish to hurt you; one of the only people on Earth who didn't suck so much as everyone else did.

[meowsgirldrawing]

AUNTIE LAE'ZEL IDEA I CAN'T GET OUT OF MY HEAD-

For sure I'm going to write this when I can but I need to say it before I loose my mind! GODS-

SO this is mainly pertaining to Astarion romance, mainly cause he's the only one I'm familiar with personality wise so far. And he's the only one who's kids I've made.

But imagine Auntie Laze'zel-

Post! Game, Tav and Astarion have two little dhampires.

While everyone else was welcoming to the little bat-pups in their own ways, Lae'zel was..standoff-ish at first.

Don't get her wrong, she's happy for her friends comrades, she's just unsure how to proceed with these little blood suckers.

If her relationship with both Tav and Astarion are in the high, she's seemingly more nervous than unwelcoming. Confused possibly.

She knows how to treat children, somewhat, but babies??

Little toddlers that can't do anything for themselves?

Yeah, no, she's going to wait until they can at least understand the difference between a cat and a dog- And Tav why are you pushing the non-hatchling into her arms??

She's frozen as she holds their daughter. Her white curls, the only thing she shares with her twin brother, soft and tangled in her hand that supports the head. Tav helps her adjust as Astarion chuckles teases on the side. She'd snap at him another time, she's too busy staring at the defenseless, weak creature in her arms.

Eyes blink open, tiny nose unlike hers scrunches and she's staring into wide, red eyes tinged with orange.

She braces, having seen enough of other's childen waking up and immediately screaming their dislike of whatever they see. Not that she values a child's opinion of her looks. She'd could care less, but her ears care alot.

It doesn't happen. Happy and curious cooes start, eyes crickling as the girl reaches up. Grasping at her braids. Gently tugging and feeling the warriors hair.

"She's your unfortunate copy, Tav." Theres weight on her arm and a tight hold accompanying it. Her tail. Just like how Tav always wraps their's around Astarion or people she's closest too, the baby wraps as much as her tiny tail will allow around....

No, she is not turning soft, hush your ridiculous lies, Astarion!

She continues with that sentence for years, even when found playing 'teecups and crowns' with Amarylis and watching over Axel's non-serious training. Who she even gets pulled into playing with the dog with or finding weird stones along the stream, nothing but trying to find gold that could only be burried in the earth. But she doesn't say a word to the young halfing about that, just grabs the collar of his shirt if he wanders too far off, a soft hissable warning falling from her lips.

She's not used to kids, it's clear to the parents. But she tries, because they show a side she's not used to. They won't have to fight for their freedom, or lives or anything of that sort. They'll be able to choose to fight. And if having a toy crown on her head that has the girl with an affectionate tail giggling and finally finding a stone that has the boy, his outrageous curls doxed in his first half shave, grinning and spouting praises you'd only hear from young ones, is the biggest proof of that, she's alright with it...mostly.

And if you think the protection stops there...HAHAHAHA- No.

One time Lae'zel was in charge of the kids who wanted to go to a nearby carnival. Astarion and Tav allowed it, seeing it as a nice opportunity for some alone time and bonding time for Lae'zel and her little warriors in tow.

And if you call Lae'zel nearly breaking a man's arm off as bonding time...sure.

An older man, possibly a hunter by the looks of how his eyes shifted and how he posed in his following of the three, dared reach for Axel who was too busy staring wide eyed at the golden clocks on one stand to notice his creeping.

Lucky for him, Auntie Lae'zel came in, hissing and glaring, hand on the always sharp dagger she has at her hip.

To others and the guards, it looked like an attempted kidnapping so the man was taken away as soon as Lae'zel got a few good hits in, possibly a few cuts.

'Great.' She grumbled in her mind as she watch the man be dragged off, spouts of vampire children going unheard by the guards who merely rolled their eyes and gritted out words of justice.

She turns, half expecting to see eyes wide in fear at her, only to find a small body slamming into her front. Axel, at the age of 9, goes sniffling into her tunic, clutching at her back with tight fists.

"Auntie Lae!" His sister's teary eyes meet her unsure ones, "Are you okay??" She frets, coming in close aswell.

She ignores the murmurs, the looks as the crowd around them disperses. Her thoughts still trying to come together.

She tsks, patting the girls head instead of answering and pulls Axel away form her, only to kneel infront of him. "Next time, watch your surroundings. Understand, pup?" A common nickname from her companions. It calms the boy down, his red eyes getting wiped as he nods and sniffs, "Y-Yes, ma'am..."

After wiping his face and giving him a somewhat awkward hug, one that has Ama giggling and Axel blinking, they continue on, enjoying the carnival to the best of their ability.

And it seems to work out well. As soon as Astarion and Tav arrive home, the twins running up to their open armed father as Tav approches a tired Lae'zel. They chuckle and -

"What?!" Astarion bawks.

They look over, seeing the twins glance at each other then back at Astarion.

"Can you teach us how to fight like Auntie Lae'zel?" Ama smiles like she's asking for a delicate flower, while Axel gives a wicked grin in comparison. "YEAH! She beat up a bad man at the carnival today!" He giggles, "I think his arm broke cause I heard a loud crack!"

Tav blinks. Lae'zel stares. Then smirks, "I take back my first statement, they are like him."

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Night in New Orleans

Normally the men Y/N is in charge of managing are the ones getting in trouble, not the other way arround. This time, while shooting in Louisiana for the second movie, it’s a bit of both.

Johnny Knoxville X Gn!Reader, Bam Margera X Gn!Reader (if you squint)

(Fluff)

5.7k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, crude language, heavy nudity, alcohol, drug use, fights, blood, hurt/comfort, flirting, stripping, fighting

An: Another manager Y/N fic!! I can’t seem to get away from this premise for the life of me! XD they’re just so fun to write for!! Also as proof of how much research goes into these fics, every location mentioned in this fic is entirely real and on Bourbon Street! I had an ex that went to New Orleans but I’ve never been there myself, so I could only hope it’s as wild as I immagine it to be! Also, this fic takes place ~2006 during the filming of Jackass Number Two because they filmed a good chunk of that movie in Louisiana! Anyways,thank you for sending in requests and please keep sending them!

Backroads seemed to stretch on forever as you ranted to Jeff on the phone, “MTV is not paying me enough for this shit! I mean, it's bad enough I gotta spend every day with idiots, now I’m the one who’s gotta find them when they run off?” The dusty road ahead of you was solely illuminated by the one working headlight on the van as you drove through the darkness, your only source of direction being the man you were on the phone with, “It's not my fault they decided to run off to some ranch in the middle of Nowhere, Louisiana!” You rolled your eyes, leaning forward against the wheel to try and see ahead as he sighed, “Listen, we gotta shoot in the morning so just get them back to the hotel. Manage the talent!” Click.

Fuckin Jeff, making you go out in the middle of the night in the stupid van that was bumbling allong on its last legs- you didn’t even want to immagine what went down in it based on how it smelled. The whole ‘manage the talent’ thing became almost a motto for when shit turned sour but calling them talent was an overstatement. This is what chauffeurs- better yet, the town dog catcher is for, not managers. Thanks to his amazing directions, you ended up at a ranch, sure, but it seemed practically deserted as you pulled up into the dirt parking lot. Squinting into the darkness, you could barely make out the carved writing on the wooden sign that hung over the front gate that read, ‘New-D Ranch’, whatever that meant. You waited for a few minutes, trying to catch a breeze from the one working AC vent while wondering why the hell you hadn’t quit already to find a job somewhere a little more sane before you heard the swish of the doors behind you opening.

You knew it was Johnny who called shotgun when you heard the slight twang in his grumble as he slid in the passenger seat, “Christ, for a nudist ranch you’d think there’d be more chicks…” Blinking, you turned to him, looking him up and down. Shoulders, chest, thighs- oh god he was naked. Well, naked save for those stupid sunglasses he never seemed to take off. The guys chattered amongst themselves in the back seat as you whipped your head around- yeah, them too. Knoxville must have seen how big your eyes got or the blush that spread across your cheeks, and judging by the way he chuckled a little and let his knees drift apart as he settled down in his seat, he didn’t seem to mind. Pervert. It’s not like you could help it that he was so shameless and all blue and glowy from the way the moon kissed his skin. Finally, you got your words out, yanking the van into gear as you peeled out, “Why are you all naked?”

Admittedly, you were speeding a little down the desolate road while Chris and Steve filled you in on how they heard about this totally rad nudie ranch from this guy at the hotel bar and were down to get with some really hot chicks that night, but all they found there were dudes and farm animals. Every now and then you would sneak a glance over at Johnny who was still wearing that shit eating grin he always had when he knew he was pushing your buttons. You didn’t want to debate yourself if this whole thing was turning you on or pissing you off, but you didn’t have a whole lot of time to consider it as you saw those flashing red and blue lights in your rear view mirror. Shit.

What a perfect time to get pulled over. Veering the car off to the gravelly shoulder, you did the routine. Yes officer. No, I don’t know why I got pulled over. My license? Oh sure! Right here, officer! He flashed that stupid little flashlight inside the car and audibly gasped as he gawked at the proud exhibitionists- that is, all except Bam, who was redder than a tomato and practically squirming in his seat as he desperately tried to cover up his junk. You could tell Officer Friendly got a little uncomfortable with the way Chris suggestively raised his eyebrows at him from the way he stuttered as he continued his police spiel, “May I ask why you are out at this hour with a- a van full of nude men?” Thinking for a moment, you tried to come up with a worthwhile excuse, “Well, I, uh- these are my brothers, officer, and they had a little too much to drink tonight, so they called me to pick them up from the bar!” Making eye contact across the center counsel, Johnny nodded with a very clear tone of amusement in his voice, “Yeah, brothers.” The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

All the cop could do was awkwardly ask for your license and go back to his car, leaving you alone in the oppressive humidity and near silence as crickets chirped faintly. Turning around, about to deliver the lecture of a lifetime, you noticed Steve eerily uiet and nevrous, of all things. Looking up at you from his nails that he was biting to the nub, there was a trace of panic in Steve’s eyes as he started, not even waiting for you to ask what was wrong, “I’m fuckin’ naked and I gotta warrant, man! I-I can’t go t’jail- not like this…” You rolled your eyes at his dramatics- really it wouldn’t surprise you if they all had warrants based on the shit you had to get them out of. As he stood up a little to get a better view out the front window, he anxiously bounced his leg, murmuring to himself, “Fuck, man. That’s it. I-I’m gonna make a run for it.” Your eyes shot open and you pushed him back into his seat. If there was anything you didn’t need tonight, it was a naked man under your care on the loose, so you shut that down fast, “Steve! Stay!”

When the cop returned, the guys turned to look in completely different directions so as to not appear suspicious as you got the news that everything seemed fine with your license. He let you off with a warning and a shake of his head, muttering something about you taking your brothers home to sober up and getting some damn clothes on them while you were at it. Yes, officer. Thank you, have a nice night, officer. As you started back to the hotel, Chris, who was previously distracted by looking at fireflies out the window, noticed something, “Woah, dude. What’s wrong?” Glancing in your rear view mirror as you pulled away, you saw Bam, in between Steve and Chris, white as a ghost with sweat just pouring down his face. Running a hand through his soaked curls, he shook his head, “Shit, dude! I was worried- like, I-I’m small and cute! And naked!” Johnny turned to face him and piped up, “And famous.” Bam disregarded any traces of sarcasm as he turned to you, “And famous! I’d get the shit kicked out of me, dude!” With how cool these guys were normally, the way they freaked out when a cop showed up surprised you.

By some miracle you made it to the hotel, a motel, if you were being honest, in the middle of bourbon street. The place was the definition of a shithole, but you’d stayed in worse and it was better than sleeping in the van so you made do with the used condoms under the bed and roaches in the bathroom because if they could survive this, so could you. Not wanting to leave the guys unsupervised for too long, you decided that your best bet at getting the guys from the car to the room would have to be something in the near vicinity, and while scanning the parking lot, you got an idea so good it made you want to ask for a raise. An assured grin crossed your face, ”I’ll be back.” Just as you were halfway out the door you heard Bam protest with an exhausted sigh, “Fuck it! I’m going with you.” He climbed over Chris to open the door, putting his hands up as he got over his previously held shyness at being nude in front of others, “I’ve been sittin’ between two naked dudes and I gotta get the fuck outta here.” Stopping just before an indecent exposure charge, he held his hand out to you, “Gimme your jacket.”

Begrudgingly handing over your hoodie to Bam, he casually tied it around his waist backwards to cover his crotch loincloth-style as you made a mental note to wash it before you wore it next time it got chilly. Decent enough, you thought, shaking your head as you walked towards the shitty hotel pool that glowed teal in the night. You tried to pretend he wasn’t there as he followed on your heels through the parking lot and through the metal gates that fenced the pool in. As you nearly dove into the big plastic green thing that housed the neatly folded towels, you heard Johnny wolf whistle from the van. Initially assuming that it was directed towards you, you flipped up, clutching an armful of fluffy white fabric, but before you could shout something back you very quickly noticed that Bam’s pale little ass was just completely out. Goddamn it. As you handed out the towels, he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest when Chris chuckled and said something about hating to see Bam go but loving to watch him leave.

Making sure to stay behind the group like a Border Collie to a herd of sheep, you marched the idiots through the lobby who were miraculously dry despite allegedly having come from the pool. As celebrities go, they didn’t attract as much attention as you would have otherwise expected, but that didn’t stop a few drunken women splayed out in the wide, red silk upholstered chairs in the lobby from loudly propositioning them. Steve threw up a ‘call me’ gesture and Bam dragged his feet, whining something about you never letting them have any fun as you nudged them along. You were so exhausted that you didn’t even bat an eye when Chris ‘accidentally’ dropped his towel and glanced back at you with a finger over his lips like one of those pin up girls. Humorously snatching the towel off of the ground, you shoved it into his arms as you all crowded into the tiny, rickety elevator that was surely over it”s weight limit. How strange it must have looked from an outsider’s perspective- you and four nearly naked men, all packed shoulder to shoulder into that tiny space. But you were too tired to care about any of that, leaning your forehead against the wall with a thump as the doors closed.

You were the one Jeff gave the keys to because you were the only one deemed responsible enough, so you tossed them to Bam as he passed you in the hall, but while the others were stumbling in and tossing off their towels, Johnny lingered in the hall as you went to unlock your room. The hallway was only maybe wide enough for you to stand on one side and stretch your arm out to touch the other side, so you really had to look up to talk to him, “Where’re you going?” Holding his towel up far too low with one hand, Johnny shrugged, leaning against the wall opposite to you, “M’goin t’our room.” Most people, if they were in your shoes, staring up maybe six inches away from this ruggedly handsome, partially nude man, would fold like a house of cards, but you were not most people, so you kept your composure. Shrugging, you unlocked your room. “No, this is my room.” The dryness of your words contracted with the playful tone in his voice, “You sure ‘bout that?” Tossing your keys into the bed, you turned to him flatly, “Yep!” Johnny shrugged, turning to leave before dropping his towel. He cackled that signature Knoxville laugh, picking it up only after he heard you snicker from your doorway.

After sending the kids off to daycare, you finally got a moment to yourself. Your day was mostly spent lounging about your room, trying to savor the peace and quiet however short lived it may be. But it came to a stop all too soon when your hotel room phone started ringing- it was Bam, who was apparently too lazy to just go next door and knock. He mumbled over the line, sounding a little embarrassed to ask you, “We wanna go out, n’Jeff says we can’t without you.” This premise never ends well. Hearing your sigh, he turned defensive, “Hey! We just wanna go get some food, okay? That’s it! Jeez…” In the background, you could hear Johnny say something about how the boys were starvin’ over there. “Okay, fine!” You relented after hesitating for a moment, “As long as it's just for food.”

The group walked through a blur of light and sound, dazzling neon signs flanking either side of the street: Bourbon Gifts Cigar Shop, Tropical Isle- Home of the Hand Grenade, signs advertising $5 Jager Bombs, but no restaurants. The guys seemed to have completely forgotten about looking for dinner, more concerned with what trouble they could get into than feeding themselves. “C’mon, Bam! I know this kickass voodoo lady that lives ‘round here- she’ll totally get us footage!” Steve’s excitement was met with a shudder, “No fuckin way, man. Like I wanna get hit by brooms’n play with snakes ‘n shit.” Maybe the fact that Johnny was holding the portable video camera from the hotel room should’ve tipped you off that they may not have been on the prowl for food. He chuckled, turning to Steve, “She sounds sweet. Think’y could get me her number?”

So far you had done a pretty good job at keeping the guys together, even if you had to grab their hands and tug them through the crowds like you were their mother when you caught them rubbernecking to peep into whatever strip club you were walking past. Suddenly, you saw Chris dart away from the pack. You weren't sure if it was the Penthouse Club, the Kama Sutra Cabaret, or Lary Flynt’s Hustler Club that he b-lined it into, but just as soon as he did, the rest of the guys followed quickly behind, leaving you stranded. Knowing how much shit you would get into if you lost one of them or god forbid someone got arrested, you went after them.

Given your line of work, you would’ve thought that, by this point, you would have gotten a little more familiar with the inside of one of these places, but nope. This place was on some real Girls, Girls, Girls shit, like the image of a strip club- mirror poles, velvet tablecloths, and women wearing barely more than a smile and nine inch heels. Averting your eyes from the ladies onstage, you let out a sigh of relief when you spotted Knoxville sitting at the bar. Hopping up onto the tall red vinyl stool next to him, you let out a sigh of relief as Johnny glanced over to you and let out a chuckle, taking a sip of his beer before reassuring you like he could read your concerns without you having to open your mouth, “If you’re lookin’ for the fellas, they’re out on the floor. S’not like they’re goin’ far”

Rolling your eyes, you kept your head low as you scouted the place out. “I thought we were gettin’ dinner.” This was not the kind of place you wanted to be found in, and you bet Johnny could tell from how entertained he seemed at your discomfort, looking you up and down, “Well, for these guys, this is dinner.” You couldn’t deny, you actually were kinda hungry, distracting yourself by eyeing the initials that were keyed into the countertop, “I don’t even think they have food here…” Knoxville nudged a glass bowl of peanuts sitting on the bar top toward you with a smirk. “Here,” He grabbed one himself, crushing the shell in his hand before tossing one in his mouth with a smirk, “Lemme buy you dinner.” Taking one from the bowl yourself, you scoffed, a smile ghosting over your face as you murmured, “Oh, you’re quite the gentleman, Knoxville. Strip joint and peanuts.” Laughing, he relented to you, “Alright, how about I make it up to you with a nice dinner sometime- one good dinner? I owe you.” Wait, was he asking you on a date? Before you could consider maybe taking him up on that offer, you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Hey, hey- Y/N!”

Turning around, you weren’t sure if you were annoyed or relieved to see Bam standing behind you, holding out a fifty, “Y’got any singles?” It was like a kid asking his mom for money to go to the movies. Johnny shrugged, turning to you to remark, “I mean, at least he’s tippin’ the ladies. Not like Steve-O over there.” He jabbed a thumb at the corner where Steve sat, a herd of women clustered around him. Sure, Steve never tipped, but every time you saw him at the club, he was never drooling over the strippers. Instead, he would be sitting over in the corner, just chatting up the ladies while they were on their break. Strangely enough, they always seemed to be more than eager to hang out with him, waving and blowing him kisses as they headed back onstage. It bewildered you, but it was kinda sweet in a weird way. “Wha- no! I don’t have any singles!” Bam shrugged at your reaction, turning to walk away, “Ah, I’m sure I can get some at the bar. Thanks though!”

The question you were about to ask Johnny, about where Chris was at, was answered before you could ask it. Just as Bam ran up to the edge of the stage with a handful of singles, excited to see some T and A, you could see his face just fall as he muttered to himself at the sight in front of him, “This is so fucked up….” You yourself stared slack jawed as Johnny snickered at the sight of Party Boy himself strutting out onto the stage wearing nothing but his silver mankini while the beginning riff of one of those cock rock strip club songs started up. Not one to miss this kind of thing for the world, Knoxville whipped out the camera to capture the wide eyed shock in Bam’s eyes that turned to disgust when Chris started his little routine, eyeing the fat stack of ones in his hand. He kept inching closer and closer to the edge of the stage- specifically, closer to Bam. Getting down on his knees, Chris wasn’t shy in the slightest about shaking what he had (which he had quite a great deal of), barely inches from his face. Even you couldn’t deny that he was pretty damn good up there, and it seemed that Johnny agreed as he got up to toss a couple singles up there with a whistle. As the song reached a crescendo, everything seemed to reach a fever pitch and Bam hurriedly shoved the bills in his arms onto the stage, unable to stand it any longer, “Just take my money- and get your junk outa my face!” Pontius smirked, tucking the cash in the strap of his mankini with a wink. He whispers something you couldn’t quite hear, but you assumed was some sort of flirty comment from the way Bam rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You know, this is how I wanna spend my night.” Johnny turned to you as you tried to speak up over the music, “Watching Chris strip.” He chuckled, leaning back on the sticky bar, drink in hand. “Yeah, me too.” The incandescent lights of the club looked so pretty in the reflection of Johnny’s glasses that you hardly noticed when Bam ran back to the bar in the stupid little way he ran everywhere, as Candy or Trixie or whoever was strutting out onstage. He just happened to cross paths with Chris, walking off the stage and flipping through all fifty two dollars he got. Bam stopped him in his tracks with a hand on his baby oil covered chest, “Dude. Gimme my money back.” Chris just gave him that stoner laugh and shook his head, “No way! I earned this. How about you go up there and shake your little moneymaker?” Bam turned a little red and debated arguing or just getting more money. Looking back up at the stage, he gave in, more concerned with what article of clothing the girl on stage was shedding than his own money.

But just a few moments later, it was him who was getting physically tossed out onto the sidewalk, landing on his ass. All you saw was this little dark blur getting hoisted up by this bouncer twice it’s size and going flying out the doors. Of course, all the guys followed behind, laughing as he stumbled to his feet. “Rookie mistake, man.” Steve joked, his hands in his pockets as a curious few of the ladies peered out the door after him. You should’ve known that of all people it would be Bam who got a little too handsy with the girls. Nobody on the street even stared at the spectacle as you fled outside after them. “Okay, that’s it- let’s just call it a night.” The guys collectively groaned about you being a killjoy and begged for just one more stop at another bar for a nightcap as you threw your hands up in the air, not easily swayed, “C’mon, it’s a sign. Let’s just get you all back to the hotel…”

You got them safely tucked away in their room for the night, but of course the chaos didn’t cease. Maybe an hour passed after you collapsed onto your mattress with the lights off, trying to get a few hours of shuteye before you had to deal with them in the morning when the shouting started. Chalking it up to some couple having a marital dispute next door, you brushed it off until you realized which room it was coming from. Oh. Oh no. Clambering to your feet, you jumped at the telltale sound of an appliance shattering against a wall and tried to run the numbers of how much that’d cost to cover as you scrambled out the door. Hoping it was just a coffee maker or something and not a repeat of the time Bam hurled an entire Zenith television out of a plate glass door, you barged in the room.

Now, you didn’t know what the argument was initially about, but you got the gist of it as Steve’s elbow made contact with your mouth, slamming into you. Everything froze. Just your luck to get caught in the crossfire of one of his drug induced fits. Bam, who was on the other side of the room, was completely shirtless, as was Steve, but significantly more all together mentally and seeming to be on the other side of whatever conflict was happening. Running your tongue over your teeth, you confirmed that none of them were missing, but that wet iron taste lingered on your lips. “Holy shit…” This quickly sobered Steve up, whose voice was barely a whisper as he watched the blood that got Jackson Pollocked all over your face drip down your chin and neck. That was one way to break up a fight.

Blood trickled down the drain as you held yourself over the bathroom sink in the guys’ room, blinking away the tears that swelled in your eyes. Everyone cries when they get hit in the nose- it’s probably a reflex or something, you thought, not that it hurt that bad. Glancing up to the mirror, you caught sight of someone standing in the doorway- Knoxville, holding this ice pack he fashioned out of a towel full of ice from the hall. It seemed that your waterworks had really gotten his attention, judging from the concerned tone in his voice, “Y’alright?” Taking it from him, you gently pressed it to your face, wincing at the cold sting. “M’fine.” He smirked but the tone of his voice was still present as he sat down on the lid of the toilet seat next to you, “You sure?” Johnny waved you closer, gesturing for you to lean down towards him. You did, and he reached out to gently grasp your chin, “Lemme see…well, that might leave a mark.” It was an oddly intimate moment, feeling his noticeably larger hand on top of yours as he went to move the ice pack. Leaning it to get a better look at your face, Johnny smiled just barely, “I think you’re gonna be alright.”

With the way the guys treated you the next day, you would’ve thought you were the queen of England. When you woke them up the next day, they didn’t whine or complain in the slightest, instead obediently getting out of bed and starting to get ready, avoiding your gaze. You felt like the headmaster at some British private school for undisciplined boys. As you stood idly in the doorway, perplexed at their sudden shift in behavior, you noticed something- Knoxville was MIA, and it seemed that nobody cared or was willing to say anything to you. Dipping your head in the door, you scanned the room, “Does anyone know where-“

Jumping a little, you caught your breath after the initial surprise when you realized it was Johnny who was standing next to you out in the hallway, maybe six inches away. He smirked at how easily he startled you and wordlessly handed you one of the two complementary breakfast coffees he had in his hands. Look at Mr. Suave-Cool, coming in with the apology drinks. Still, you weren't going to say no. Taking a sip and pondering how he could be the constant center of attention and, at the same time, so damn sneaky, you didn’t even notice when Bam sprang up from his bed, scampering to lean against the doorframe behind you. While all of the guys were quietly doing it already, Bam seemed the most eager to grovel, not even waiting for you to turn towards him before he started fawning with uncharacteristic earnestness, “Hey, I just wanna tell you I am so sorry about last night- I mean, it was totally Steve’s fault, but I feel so bad!” Immediately, you turned to Bam and looked him up and down, as did Johnny, who snickered at the fact that he was standing there without a care in the world, totally naked. At this point in the trip you were so desensitized to the male nudity that you didn’t even say anything. From behind him in the room Steve, who had his shirt halfway over his head, was clearly over his faux niceness by the way barked at Bam, “Oh, fuck you man!” But when you made eye contact with him, his ego shrank up like he just got into a cold pool as his voice dropped a decibel, “I-I mean, you looked pretty rad with all the blood and stuff...” Chris, who was totally unbothered by all of this, just smiled at you as earnest as ever, “Yeah! The blood was totally sexy, dude!”

“Is there anything I can do to make it up?” Bam looked at you with this eager to please look on his face, and you weren't one to pass up this opportunity. You thought that hell would freeze over before any of these guys would ask to do something nice for you. “Well…if you really want, you could grab me a danish from down front.” He started off before he glanced down and noticed the obvious. Quickly running back into the room to tug on a pair of jeans- no underwear, Bam slipped past you and ran down the hall in that same stupid way he did at the strip club.

While the guys were out for the day, you shot a call over to Ed the Medic, who was, as his name implied, an on set medic (if you could call him that) who they only really kept around because he really liked giving people pills, so this was maybe the first time anyone called him for a legitimate injury. He was nonetheless happy to pawn them off onto you. While you debated whether or not you should take them, the throbbing pain in the middle of your face failed to cease, so you gave in, throwing them back and hoping the high would wear off before the guys got back and you made a fool of yourself the same way they did with you.

For the first time that trip, nobody wanted to go out that night, not after the day they just had. Drenched in sweat from the hot Louisiana sun with sore muscles from a day of stunts, all anybody wanted to do was maybe have a beer and crash for the night. Nobody was more exhausted than Bam, who arguably had the worst day out of any of them. From getting locked in a trailer with snakes and racking his nuts to having to eat and by extension throw up a piece of cowshit- not even Johnny asking to take a gander at his sprained dick could bring any humor to the situation. So as soon as they got into the room they all fell onto beds or chairs or whatever they could find, content to call it a night before six. That is, until you came knocking on the door.

“Heyyy!!” Stumbling into the room, you were all giggles as you bumped into Johnny who had opened the door. He looked down at your purple, swollen face confusedly as you slurred your words, “Didn’t you guys wanna go out…? C’mon, let’s go. I wanna party!” Turning back to the other guys, they all reflected the same bewildered expression as his- never once had you ever expressed interest at partying, or at least their idea of partying. However, though he had arguably had the roughest day out of all of them, Bam’s mood shifted at your sudden change of opinion, getting up from his place on the bed with a grin and putting a paintball-scarred hand on Johnny’s shoulder, “Alright, you heard ‘em! Let’s party.”

The streets were nearly empty as you and the guys walked them. Hell, you didn’t even know you were on Bourbon street until you saw the street sign on the corner as you left the hotel, “Wait, this is that Marti gras place, right?” Johnny nodded as he walked close to you, making sure you didn’t run off or hurt yourself doing something stupid. He clearly wasn't doing a very good job at it, made apparent when you tugged your shirt up to your neck, squealing, “Oh! I’m gonna get some beads!” Imitating women who flashed for plastic at those parades, it seemingly didn’t occur to you that not only were you about three months late to the whole Marti gras thing, but you were doing it to nobody in particular. Johnny noticed, his eyes going a little wide as he grabbed the sides of your shirt, quickly but gently pulling it back down, “Woah, woah- Y/N,” There was this almost protective tone in his voice as he talked to you the way you usually talked to him when he had a few too many that night, “If you wait right here, I can get you some beads, okay? Just- just stay in this one spot.”

He returned shortly after with a handful of multi-colored strands of plastic beads, brilliant iridescent purple and greens under the gas lamps that lined the sidewalks. Your eyes sparkled, “Woah…you got these for me…?” Johnny nodded. Maybe instead of getting them from a float like you assumed he had ran into a gift shop and hastily bought the first bulk bag of necklaces he could find, but he wasn’t technically lying. As you happily pulled them over you head, Bam elbowed you in the side, raising his eyebrows as he leaned in with a grin, “I could get you some beads if you flash those titties again.” Before you could comply, which you would’ve been more than happy to do, Johnny put an arm between the two of you, pushing you apart. What a killjoy! Still, he gave you a good explanation, “You don’t need any’a Bam’s junky beads cause I got you the good ones- the fancy kind.” Looking down at the beads in your hand again, you weren't sure what made them so fancy as they just looked like any old beads to you, but you trusted him. “Besides” Johnny brushed Bam’s hand off of your shoulder, “Why don’t I take you out on that dinner I was talkin’ about?”

You spent half of the meal gushing to the guys about your shiny new beads you got, somewhat less high but far from sober. Chris and Steve found your predicament absolutely hilarious, sitting on either side of you with giddy smiles at their uptight manager who was finally getting in on the fun. The lot of you ate your dinner in that sleepy little twenty four hour cafe a block from your hotel (about as far as you had gotten) and afterwards Johnny took you back to the hotel and up to your room with an arm around your shoulders, preventing any further mishaps. Dragging your feet, you collapsed onto your bed in your jeans. He gently removed your shoes and tucked you in before quietly leaving to go back to his own room next door. If there was going to be another time you ever ended up high, he would be the man you would want to babysit you. Tomorrow would be the last day of shooting in New Orleans, and you would be mortified at the stories of your behavior, but for that moment that night everything was just perfect.

[ghoastixx]

I think it was a glitch, but I can see your posts!

I have a Supernatural request of Sam x Reader. The boys find a case, it looks like a clear cut and dry witch case until the suspected witch turns up dead. While investigating the previous suspect’s house, it was clear that this suspect was the witch that did the original killings.

After some continued investigation, they are welcomed into the Reader’s house. Everything about the person seems normal, even with a properly trained dog. All until Cas gets stuck on the carpet (with an Enochian sigil underneath).

Boys find out that Reader is a Witch and a hunter who stays in her state/town.

That was all I had thought of, I don’t know how Sam and Reader fall in love, maybe she saves him? Just not Dean or Cas, as I see the two as soulmates-

Happy writing! Hope you enjoy this random little idea! (I hope I did this right, because this is my first ever ask)

Sam Winchester x female witch!reader

synopsis above

notes: literally so cringe?? I stopped writing this halfway to eat and it threw my entire groove off I'm so sorry if this doesn't live up to expectations.

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"I hate witches. They're all sluts of the devil." Dean grumbled as he adjusted his tie, knocking on the door of a lady's house. They were going to interrogate this girl as she was the neighbor of the witch they thought they were hunting. The one that just turned up dead.

The case was running circles around them. They thought Eleanor Vandine was the witch that had been killing people in the town of Waterfall. The Winchester boys had proof of the matter.. The fact that they showed up to a dead witch and a hex bag was the curve ball. That meant there was another witch in town. That meant that they were back at square one.

A young lady opened the door, she smiled. "Hello..?"

Sam smiled, "Hi, we're with the federal office. We're going around interrogating Mrs.Vandine's neighbors-"

"ms," the lady interrupted,

Sam faltered a bit, "Oh.. yes.. Ms.Vandine." he shook his head,

"This is agent Osbourne, Ziggy, and I'm agent Floyd." The lady tilted her head.

"yeah, sure.. would you guys like to come in? I can put a pot of tea on the stove." That was a nice change.

Castiel, Sam, and Dean followed her inside. They stopped at the sight of a big Saint Bernard.

"Ah- don't worry, he's fully trained and friendly. You can pet him if you want. His name's Otis." She hummed as she went into the kitchen. The men started to walk across the living room.

"Dean.." There was a hushed word from Cas.

"Not now-"

"Dean." Dean turned around. Castiel was standing still in the middle of the living room.

"Cas, we don't have time to stop-"

"I'm stuck." Sam turned around,

"Stuck-"

The lady was leaning against the doorframe. A look of awe on her face. "You're not agents..I should've known with the band names.."

"you're our witch," Sam said, finally glancing around the room. It was painfully obvious, sigils carved in a inconspicuous way around the room, plants.. bones. A stereotype.

They were all sat around the room, the witch was nice enough to ruin her sigil to let Cas out of entrapment. She even made them tea.

"So, you're hunters?"

"So, you sold your soul to some demons?" Dean cut in, Sam elbowed him.

"yes, we're hunters." The witch smiled,

"I didn't sell my soul, I don't do dark magic. Not like Eleanore did. I'm more of a green witch."

"There's different kinds?" Castiel asked, at least he seemed interested. So you explained. You explained why you hurt Eleanore for killing your friends. You came 100% clean.

After long consideration, they left without hurting you. You didn't seem like the evil type, they couldn't see you doing this again. But the threat of them showing back up to kill you always loomed over your head.

Few months went by before they knocked on your door again. They were down for a hunt and figured they could use your help.

So you helped them and then all went out for drinks afterwards.

Dean was talking to the bartender, Cas not caring that he was staring at her ass. Sam sat next to you at the bar.

"What you did back there was really neat, Winchester?"

"Oh yeah?" He smiled a bit, looking down at his drink. "thanks. We've had our run ins with vampires. Know all the tricks.."

"yeah? Well..maybe you should tell me sometime." She hummed, writing her phone-number on a napkin, sliding it over to him. "call me," she grabbed her jacket and walked towards the door.

Dean walked back over to Sam, disappointed in his luck. "What's got you all dopey?" Sam glanced at her walking away.

"nothin-" He couldn't seem to wipe the goofy grin off his face.

[lakesbian]

thinking about how good the chapter of twig where the lambs catch up with sy and jessie for the first time after jessie's transition would be if twig was good. sy & jessie's cisgender third would not even be there or exist as a character when the lambs bust into jessie and sy's bedroom, obviously. lillian would do the thing she does in the text where she gets self-centered and upset about jessie's transition bc she feels like it's robbing her of being able to look to jessie as Proof That Decent Boys Exist (which she's obviously desperate for as a girl in the 1920s who dated and then grieved sylvester) and be like but you were such a lovely boy :'(. and jessie would be like Not Fucking Cool Lillian and sy would be like Yeah. Not Fucking Cool Lillian. Dont Talk To Jessie Like That. and everyone else in the room including jessie would go Shut The Hell Up Sy simultaneously. it would of course still have the scene where he piteously runs at mary & hugs her and surreptitiously takes a knife from her and she immediately disarms him and was like. yeah im sure that was a really innocent hug with no ulterior intent to escape. and he's like it WAS though :( i just couldnt hug lillian because it'd be weird or helen because she might murder me....i was just taking your knife as a friendly greeting from one assassin to another :'(. helen would completely derail the attempt at taking sy & jessie prisoner by wanting a tour of jessie's new wardrobe. if we want to get really crazy with it there could even be helen/jessie crumbs. i think there might be a 50% chance that jessie guilt trips lillian re her immediate shame over being a dick so successfully that it derails the entire search-and-return attempt into an awkward kitchen table polycule catch-up discussion. like, the same kind of thing sy & jessie did to dog and catcher, where they are fully having meaningful conversation as people who care about each other, but also jessie is fully ready to pull the level under the table that drops the other lambs' chairs into The Basement Spike Trap Pit at a moment's notice. of course they still hash out sy's really funny canonical king solomon solution wherein he & jessie trade their academy hostage for one helen and half an ashton. i think when lillian is saying goodbye to sy (after the Lambs Polyamory Discussion) she automatically wants to kiss his forehead but then awkwardly looks at jessie for permission and jessie is like yeah id ont care. and then lillian also awkwardly looks at mary for permission. and jessie is like. HM. THATS INTERESTING. WHAT WAS THAT LOOK FOR LILLIAN. AT MARY. WHAT WAS THAT LOOK YOU DID THERE. and this is how sylvester learns that mary has been fucking his ex(-ex?) girlfriend like crazy and also they consider themselves to now have a romantic bond deep enough that no words exist to describe it and also lillian has actual legal custody over mary as a human experiment and mary thinks it's awesome. this is how he learns that girls can like girls by the way. like he knew it cognitively but he hadn't processed it yet

[iamvegorott]

Magicians Don't Need Superheros Pt3

First: Link Prev: Link Next: Link

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Marvin muttered to himself in thought as he tried to recall phone numbers. There were a few he had memorized but they were close enough that he had to dig into his brain to make sure he was calling the right person. 

When he had first stolen Jackie’s phone, he was ready to find a way to use magic to unlock the phone. There was a fingerprint scanner on the back, maybe he’d find a fingerprint on the phone somewhere and transfer it. He was prepared to use a complex spell or something to get into the phone but he had a feeling that the passcode wasn’t going to be too advanced and he couldn’t help from laughing when ‘1234’ worked. 

“Tony’s pizza shop, how-”

“Damn it.” Marvin cursed and hung up the phone. 

Did he dial the wrong number? No. That’s the number. Why did it connect to a pizza shop?

“Maybe I traveled through time?” Marvin mused out loud. Was it likely? No. But right now he was open to some of the more outlandish concepts. “I hope not, though. That would be very inconvenient and annoying.” 

But also if he did send himself to a different point in time, he’d have to find a way to send himself back and that did not sound fun. That sounded like a lot of work, effort, and time, and having someone basically hunting him down made that task sound even more difficult to deal with.

“He should have a calendar app on this phone. I can check the date.” Marvin swiped around and opened the app he was looking for. “It’s still the present. There goes that theory.” He hummed as he decided to be a little nosy and started going through Jackie’s phone. 

Finding the pictures was fairly easy and he started scrolling through them. Marvin wasn’t shocked by the selfies up on roofs and bridges, places that weren’t safe to be taking pictures from but Jackie only had excitement in his eyes. 

What a dork. 

“They must be some of those ‘Septiceyes’.” Marvin saw pictures of others. He did notice how they looked similar to each other but the more he looked, the more different they became, as if changing before his eyes. “No shirtless pics?” He joked as he continued going through the photos. Marvin paused and looked up, seeing the crosswalk light telling him to go and he crossed the street, eyes back down at the phone. “Alright, I have to admit that’s cute.” A picture of Jackie lying on the ground with a dog popped up, the two had nearly identical smiles and energy. 

“Look out!” A voice called as a loud horn pulled Marvin from his thoughts. He looked over to see a truck flying toward him, showing no signs of stopping. Marvin barely had time to start a reaction before he was tackled out of the way, the truck going past him and plowing into a parked car that bumped into another parked car and that was enough to stop the truck from going any further. 

“That was embarrassing.” Marvin sighed as he found himself on his back in the street. He kept his eyes closed for a little longer, thinking that maybe that didn’t just happen and he would wake up in his bed. But, instead, when he opened his eyes he saw Jackie looking down at him, his own eyes filled with worry. 

“Are you okay?” Jackie asked. “I didn’t hurt you, right? I get a little carried away with my rescues sometimes.” 

“Just a bit of a bruised ego.” Marvin sat himself up on his elbows. “I guess you really are a hero, thank you.” His pride might be sore, but he still had some manners. 

“I try my best.” Jackie perked up. 

“Now, could you get off of me?” Marvin gestured at how the two of them were situated. 

“R-Right! Yeah!” Jackie scrambled away and stood up. “Let me help you.” He took Marvin’s hand and yanked him up to his feet as if he weighed no more than a feather. Marvin now had proof to Jackie’s boasting of his speed and strength. He patted the dust off his clothing and saw Jackie picking up a jacket from the ground, smacking dust off it as well. The jacket was the same read as his hoodie, meaning there was a good chance it was his as well. 

“What’s with the spare jacket?” Marvin asked. 

“Oh! It’s for you.” Jackie held the jacket toward Marvin. “I noticed the last time we saw each other that you looked cold. It’s supposed to get colder tonight and I figured you could borrow it until you get to the House and get your own clothing. It’s a little big on me, so it’ll be big on you, but it’s a lot warmer than it looks since the inside is a little fluffy. The sleeves are meant to be kind of long and it has like little holes on the end for your thumbs. I thought that was pretty cool so that’s why I got it.” 

Usually, Marvin would have stopped Jackie’s rambling a few sentences ago, but the kind gesture caught him a little off guard. Despite Marvin literally pushing him off the roof of a building and causing him to fall off a tree branch, Jackie still wanted to make sure he was okay. Was this man made out of rainbows and clouds or something?

“Help! Someone help, he’s stuck!” A person cried out from where the ruined truck was. 

“Shit. I gotta-don’t go anywhere, um-sir?” Jackie sounded like he was fighting between his ‘hero persona’ and who he actually was with that sentence. 

“Marvin. My name is Marvin.” Marvin decided it would be fair to at least give Jackie his name after what he’s done. 

“Marvin,” Jackie repeated with a smile before another cry for help pulled him back to the present. “Stay here, Marvin. Please.” He gave Marvin the jacket before running off. 

“It’s cute that he thinks I’m going to listen.” Marvin clicked his tongue and walked off, leaving the scene of the crime while Jackie was busy. 

It wasn’t long before he did put the jacket on. The further down the sun went, the colder the air got. And Jackie was right, the jacket was a lot warmer than it looked. 

“Marvin?” Jackie was back to where he had left Marvin and sighed at no longer seeing him. He had a little too much faith that he would have waited for him. At least Marvin wouldn’t freeze overnight and he knew his name now.

Baby steps were still steps and he was getting more of them. 

[shieldofiron]

Meals on Wheels

(Harringrove, just a flirty little drabble for @disabledbillyandsteveweek day 2 prompt-Family)

Steve thought it was maybe the stupidest thing he’d ever thought of. He and Robin had been having a sleepover and somehow the subject got around to tattoos.

“I would get a pin up girl but that might be tacky,” Robin sighed.

“As far as I’m concerned, the tackier the better,” Steve rolled up to his countertop and poured another glass of wine.

“Oh yeah, what are you getting? A nail bat?”

“Only if it says ‘who wants to get nailed,’” Steve snarled.

“What about a tramp stamp?” Robin took the glass of wine and sipped it. “Eat me.”

Steve thew a saucy look over his shoulder, dripping with king Steve charm, “Please. Look at me. It would say meals on wheels.”

Robin giggled, “Yeah, as long as we’re getting tattoos of wishful thinking I should get one on my hand that says, ‘Pussy destroyer.’”

“‘M just in a dry spell.”

“Yeah, okay,” Robin rolled her eyes, “Would you actually get ‘Meals on Wheels?’”

“Eat fast, eat fresh,” Steve quipped. “I’ll do it if you do, Madam Pussy Destroyer.”

Robin giggled loopily, “You know I did see an article about a tattoo parlor that specializes in sensory safe tattoos.”

“What’cha mean?” Steve wasn’t drunk, but he was a little tipsy on their good fortune in securing a wheelchair accessible apartment this close to the city center. Sure, a lot of rent had to come from their was Starcourt hush money, after Steve been paralyzed and a flayed Jonathan Byers has saved the world, but they he still found it and so Steve was happy to fork over the cash. The location was ideal, even if the city noise sometimes wrecked havoc on Robin’s sensory issues so they’d installed some extra sound proofing. But he wasn’t sure how a tattoo parlor was a part of that.

“It’s super cool, the owner has OCD so he made it so each room is private and soundproofed. They don’t play loud music, and offer headphones if the buzzing is too much, though you can bring your own movies. I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but some of those places are just too loud and busy,” Robin sighed.

“So you’ve always wanted to be a pussy destroyer?”

“No, shut up,” she blushed. “A Lilly, for my grandma.”

“Well maybe tomorrow we can go check it out.

“I wouldn’t want to do it alone.” She bit her lip. “I wouldn’t have the guts.”

Steve shrugged, “ok, you convinced me. It’s tramp stamp time.”

“No, you’re not serious,” Robin giggled.

“You’re my family. If you bleed, I bleed. You tramp stamp, I tramp stamp,” Steve said, only laughing when Robin did.

But then the next morning, his head pounding, he didn’t have too many defenses when Robin had looked at him with those puppy dog eyes and said she’d called and made them an appointment. She’d even brought in his motorized wheelchair and said that she’d buy bagels on the way.

But he was regretting it when they were finally there, and Steve was contemplating actually getting something permanently inked into his skin.

He wasn't sure if he was cool enough for this. He definitely wasn't cool enough for the artist that came in and introduced themselves to Robin. Their name was Eddie and they were practically covered in tattoos, wearing some cool unpronounceable band name t-shirt that they'd sewn to a mini tutu skirt to make a dress. They took Robin back to her room after they went over her sketch, a lilly painted with pale watercolor shades.

Robin squeezed his hand, "You're not gonna chicken out on me, right? I booked the only two person room they have so if you don't show up, I will know."

"I'm not chickening out," Steve laughed, "Though I hope your grandma isn't watching from heaven, because she'll probably see my ass."

Robin snorts, "She definitely saw your ass this morning when I helped you out of the shower. She was a tough old bird, a little of your pale ass won't scare her."

Steve snorted, "I'll see you in a moment."

Steve was starting to feel a little nervous. Honestly after Starcourt, he hadn't been interested in hiding his sexuality at all. Life seemed too short, he might as well unapologetically be himself, bi and disabled and ADHD and slutty and everything that was himself. But maybe the double entendre tramp stamp was a little too out there.

And then... he'd come in.

"Hi, Steve, right?" The guy was stunning, with long blonde curls streaked with blue piled up into a big bun on the top of his head. He offered a large, warm hand and Steve almost melted when they shook.

"Yeah, hi."

"I'm Billy, I'm the owner," Billy smiled, and Steve swore that he could see a cartoon smile, like Billy was an anime prince. An anime prince that had a giant seratonin tattoo that was splattered with that looked like watercolor. "I hope you don't mind that I use some hand sanitizer. I'm working on my handshake thing, but..."

"It's fine, ah... do you mind if I have some too?" Steve held out his hand.

Billy squirted Steve out a little of their fancy hand sanitizer.

"So I have to be honest, I wasn't sure what to expect when we got the call for a wheelchair themed tramp stamp that said meals on wheels," Billy licked along his lower lip, "But now that I'm seeing you it makes more sense."

Steve could feel himself turning red, "It was kind of a joke-"

"I mean," Billy leaned in, "You do look good enough to eat."

Steve shivered, blush spreading up to his hairline.

Billy straightened, "God, sorry. Sorry, that was so inappropriate-"

"It's fine."

"No, really, I can see if Heather is free to take over the appointment, except that-" Billy bit his lip, "I think I'll still have to be the one to help you onto the table. Maybe if Eddie and Heather work together... God, not that you're like... too big or... shit... I'm sorry."

Steve laughed, "Really, it's fine."

"You're not too big, you're like... perfect," Billy ran a hand down his face, "Sorry. I'm sorry. Chrissy should know she can't give me the pretty guys, I clearly can't handle it."

Steve glanced up, giving him that King Steve sparkle right back, and seeing the way it made Billy's eyes go wide and nervous.

Steve pressed on the joystick to his chair with one finger, running a hand along the tip flirtatiously.

Billy's eyes darted to his hand, and then back to his face.

"I think you can handle me," Steve said smugly, "Don't you wanna try?”

Steve left that day with a bit of a sore ass, though the sensation was soothed a lot by the business card that had Billy's personal number scrawled on the back.

"I can't believe the meals on wheels tattoo got you a date," Robin rolled her eyes as she attached Steve's chair to the floor of his van, tightening the straps down with a shake of her head.

"What can I say," Steve shrugged, "Billy looks like a hungry boy to me."

Robin gagged, "You are my family. But never, ever, say that again."

@intothedysphoria thanks for answering my question on this one.

[kenny-the-ken]

Y O U + M E |Pt 3|

A LOT OF WARNINGS WITH THIS ONE!!!! ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS AND IN HIGH SCHOOL/COLLEGE!! Loosely based on the Netflix show YOU, if y'all have seen it,,, then you know what Kenny's gonna do. If you haven't seen it,,, strap yourselves in, it's a lot!! Yandre Kenny, strong language, sexual content, violence, mentions of blood, gore, stalking, obsession and narcissistic thinking, so please beware!! I warned y'all!!

ALSO!!! A lot of this fic is written as Kenny's internal monologue and from his perspective so bare that in mind!!

Spring break. The literal bane of my existence. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love parties, I've taken more drugs than most people I know, excluding my parents of course, but Spring Break in the US was known for crazy parties, girls half naked in bikinis, guys chugging 2% alcohol content beers thinking that they're the shit, and copious amounts of drugs.

I don't care about any of that though, no, not at all, which you may be extremely shocked to hear, the only thing I cared about was, what were you doing for spring break?

Were you going to any parties? Were you meeting any friends, old or new? Were you planning to show yourself off in a tiny bikini, not that I'm complaining, but I'd rather see you like that alone, without other men's wondering eyes glaring at you as if you're a piece of meat. I can promise you y/n, that would not end well for anyone involved.

I had texted you this morning, like we do every morning. We fucked but after that it felt like we drifted apart. Or rather, you drifted from me. So here I sit, in my bathroom, cock in hand with my face buried in your used panties that I'd stolen from a while back, I assumed you didn't miss them much, and anyway, they were currently in use.

I'd give anything for another taste, your lips were soft, plumped, and oh so red from how aggressive I can be, your h/c cascaded perfectly down your back, and your breasts.

"Fuck." I knew thinking about you like this would make me cum faster, and that's exactly what I wanted, for reasons you'll find out soon enough.

Your pierced nipples and how perfectly shaped they were, your ass was round and perfect for slapping when you needed taught a lesson. Your hips were perfect for gripping, and oh how I'd grip your hips and fuck myself deeper and deeper and shit.

And just like that, here I am, hand covered in my own jizz, cock twitching between my legs and your panties still in my hand.

I have a box, I keep it under lock and key behind my wardrobe, just some little souvenirs, your panties, some nude Polaroids I'd found of you in your bedroom. Oh yeah, and one of Clyde's teeth. Just to remember him by.

You see, although we weren't dating, that didn't mean that you weren't in need of protection, you see, I'd overheard Clyde chatting to Jimmy about how he was thinking of asking you on a date. Now, I've known Clyde for a long time, he uses women like they're nothing, fucks 'em, leaves 'em.

What did you expect me to do? I mean, I did this for you! He was going to take advantage of your kindness and use you for his own sexual gratification and desires and then throw you away like you're worthless, and you are far from worthless. I'd kiss your feet as you walked the earth if you'd let me, oh how I'd worship you, like you deserve to be.

It wasn't too hard to kill Clyde, you see, when you've been known as a fuck boy before, which I unfortunately have been, other fuck boys, they tend to trust you more. So Clyde was pretty easy to reel in. I told him the truth, how I was working on an English project with you and I fucked you in your bedroom, and Clyde was all over that shit like a dog on heat. He was so focussed on what he was planning to text to you, obviously with my keen eye proof reading it for him, he was too distracted to notice me coming behind him with a brick. He only realised just as it was too late, sorry dude, your skull's caved in.

We needn't worry about the details of where his body is, let's just say... I've taken care of it. And tonight was our date, and also the first night of spring break, I would ask you what you were up to, and of course I wouldn't demand to come, unless you chose to invite me, no, I would just hang out in background, you won't even notice that I'm there. And I dare anyone to try anything, they would be dead men walking.

It didn't take long for the time of our date to roll around, and I stood on your doorstep, politely knocking on your door a few times, before smiling as the door cracked open.

You were breathtaking. I'd worked my ass off at City Wok to be able to afford to take you out to dinner, and my god, no food could ever look as delicious as you looked right now. Your tits, your hips, your ass, your legs, your hair, your face, everything! We were destined to be together, and when you smiled back at me I swore my heart swole in my chest.

"Hey, Kenny. You ready to go?" You asked, pulling your leather jacket on over your short, black dress that was showing off way too much cleavage for me to control myself for the entire evening, god I'd take you right here right now if I could.

"I was born ready, baby. I got these for you." I replied, bowing to you and holding out a small bouquet of flowers, your hand clutching your chest, and a gasp leaving your red stained lips.

"They're beautiful, Ken! Oh you shouldn't have! I'll just go get these into a vase, please come in." You spoke like an angel, and who was I to say no to an invitation into your home?

"I wanted to. I really do mean what I said last time, I've had my eye on you from you moved here, y/n, and you're different than those other girls, you're special, I can tell." You cheeks were flushed which meant that my charm was working. You'd be mine soon, and as much as I wanted to show you off to the world, I also wanted to hide you from it, so no one would dare to try and steal what's rightfully mine, or they'd end up like Clyde. Buried in the middle of fuck knows where.

"Had your eye on me? Not a little stalker are you, McCormick?" You joked, and I hoped it was a joke, you were laughing and so was I, so that was a good sign.

"Not at all! I mean, how could my eyes not go to you when you walk past me? I mean, look at you!" And slinging my arms round your hips would surely make you see that I was nothing but a pure gentleman.

"You're such a flirt, Kenny." God the way you looked at me, it was no surprise that to me that you'd stolen my heart, god the things I would do to you, the things I would do for you, oh they were criminal, but in this moment as I stood staring into your perfect e/c eyes, I couldn't care if my crimes caught up with me, I mean, getting away with it would be easy, trust me, I'm not that stupid.

Around two hours had passed and so far, our date seemed to be going perfectly, you were laughing at my jokes, I flirted, and you flirted right back, you'd told me about a huge spring break party at Tolken's house, you'd asked me to be your plus one, of course I'd gratefully accept, I needed to keep you safe, you even took my hand within your own when we were leaving the restaurant, my plan was working a charm, and you'd invited me in to your house for a quick night cap, no doubt I'd be staying the night.

And when you led me to your bedroom wearing nothing but some skimpy lingerie, I knew that your panties that were in my safe would be getting a much needed night off from being pressed against my face.

You were on top of me, grinding on me, fuck you were so needy, and my cock was growing by the second, I couldn't help but groan and pull your hips down against my own.

I'd swapped the positions, and now you lay beneath me, I'd left dozens of hickeys all over your neck, your breasts, your stomach, thighs, and now I was going to taste your sweet cunt again, god I couldn't wait, it had been too long from I'd tasted you, had my tongue inside you, claiming your insides, god I was starved, and I couldn't wait any longer, and just as I pressed a closed mouth kiss against your parted lips, your fucking phone rang.

"Ignore it. Don't answer." I ordered, my tongue lapping up your wetness, a moan coming from your lips as your phone started ringing again, and of course, being the kind person that you are, you answered.

And this couldn't have been a worse time, your face was worried, and you moved my head from where I wanted desperately to be for the past week, it was your mother.

Drug overdose, she was in hospital and you had to be there to take care of her, not that she ever did the same for you. No, you'd told me previously that our lives were similar in a lot of ways, and that's where my need to protect you came from. You were like a delicate flower awaiting to bloom, but others put you in the dark, stopped you ever from doing so, from ever reaching your full potential, but I was here now. I was going to care for you, I'd put you in the sun and give you all the love and support I could, the perfect partner, a soul mate some may say.

And as you hurried to pull your sweatpants and T-shirt on to your small frame, tears welling in the corners of your eyes, you gave me a hug, whispering sweet apologies, and I offered to come with you, which you declined. And I understood why, I hated people meeting my parents, seeing my sorry excuse of a home, fitted with built in meth lab in the garden. You were embarrassed, ashamed of your drug addict mother, and I felt that pain, I knew it personally. I was strong enough to deal with it, but you darling, you're too fragile, far too good to be feeling that way, and by god would I protect you from anything.

I'm so sorry to say this baby, your mother will never get clean, she's never been clean your entire life, it truly is a miracle that she's lasted this long. I'd be doing you and everyone else a favour. You'd told me this wasn't the first overdose she'd had, and every one made you feel the same way, like you were the parent, like you were at fault, you didn't keep an attentive enough eye on her, the pain you were feeling was soul destroying, not just for you, but for me too! How dare that woman who brought you into this world make you feel so awful, how dare she cause you pain and misery, if she died it would mean she couldn't cause any more of that, sure you'd be sad, but you'd realise in time that life was better without having to worry every time you left the house if you would come back to your mother, her skin blue and covered in her own vomit, which she choked on in her drug idled state.

And I would care for you, I'd be your shoulder to cry on, your support network, your lover and your boyfriend all tied into one, the whole package, you'd fall straight into my lap and I swear, I'd never ever let you go.

I'm sorry hunny, but your mother needs to be dealt with, and it would be easier than you'd think, one bad batch could wipe out hundreds of drug addicts, and besides, it's not as if I'd never used this method before. My parents died of an 'overdose', well, at least that's what the coroner's report said on the matter, Karen was put into my care, and the home was given to us, and life had been so much happier from I did my whole family a favour and took them out of the equation, and I know you will feel the same, in time at least.

As I drove you to the hospital you told me about your childhood. How you'd been in foster care, then your mother cleaned her act up and for a long time she was stable and in recovery, till she met some douchebag when you were ten, and she was back to using again, and your life had never been the same since.

When we pulled up outside the hospital, you hugged me tightly and kissed me twice, telling me that you'd text me later, and thanking me for the lovely evening, I assured you that this was to be the first of many of these delightful evenings, and even in the deepest depths of your pain, you still smiled at me.

I watched you till your figure disappeared inside the hospital, and I knew there and then what had to be done. I'm sorry baby, but your mother isn't good for you, she's not good for you, not good for us!

She had to go, and I had to be the one to kill her.

[raikanata]

Banquet Beneath the Clouded Moon - Chapter 2

English translation by @raikanata. Not proofread.

[♪]

Characters: Rinne, Yuta, Sora, Hiyori, Jun

A few hours later

Rinne: Blamery-chan, where do you wanna go?

Rinne: Okay-okay, that way. I guess that’s the park.

Rinne: Blamery-chan, everything OK? Can you keep walking?

Rinne: Don’t push yourself, alright? I’ll pick you up when you’re tired, and we’ll go back.

Rinne: Look at me, walking the dog leisurely on a weekday. How peaceful…

Sora: HaHa~♪ Take a look, Yuu-chan! It’s Gambler-oniisan, walking a dog~!

Yuta: Really. Isn’t that a Yorkshire Terrier? Doesn’t suit him at all.

Yuta: Hello, Rinne-senpai ♪ What’s with the little one? Don’t tell me you kidnapped it?

Rinne: I have a reason, y’know. I’m pet-sitting.

Yuta: Huh, like a side-job?

Rinne: It’s not really a side job. Hiyori-chan tasked me with walking his dog, basically.

Rinne: Oop- Because Yuta-kun put his hand out, Blamery-chan hid behind me.

Yuta: Eh? Is it my fault?

Sora: We’re not scary, y’know? C’mere, c’mere~♪

Rinne: Like Hiyori-chan said, she gets scared and starts trembling if someone she doesn’t know reaches out.

Rinne: But she’s all lovey dovey with me since we live in the same room. Right, Blamery-chan?

Yuta: Ahaha, look at her face. It’s like she’s saying “We’re not that close.”~.

Yuta: But being feared by a dog who likes Rinne-senpai just fine, it's giving me mixed feelings…

Sora: HiHi~♪ Don’t feel bad, Yuu-chan. She was only scared because she “met you for the first time”.

Sora: When we aren’t strangers to her anymore, I’m sure we will get along too~.

Sora: Gambler-oniisan, is her name “Blamery”?

Rinne: Nope. That’s what I call her, but her name’s Bloody Mary.

Sora: HuHu~♪ Bloody Mary, got it!

Sora: Nice to meet you, Bloody Mary! Sora is Sora Harukawa, and this is Sora’s friend Yuuchan~

Sora: Sora and Yuuchan both played “Werewolf Game” together with Dazzling-oniisan¹ before. You might feel scared now, but I’d be happy if we can become friends little by little~

Rinne: Ah, Blamery-chan is sniffing Sora-chan’s hand. Looks like she’s taken an interest in ya.

Rinne: Amazing. When we started living together, she kept her distance from me, and would only barely look at me.

Yuta: It’s like Sora-kun understands the things that animals want to say, huh.

Rinne: Eh, for real?

Yuta: For real, yeah. He interpreted a cat for me before.

Rinne: Interesting. I want to try talking with an animal for once too.

Yuta: Me too. I wonder what kind of stuff they normally think about.

Yuta: Huh? Rinne-senpai, I think a sound came from your phone just now.

Rinne: Oh, it’s a message from Hiyori-chan.

Rinne: “Take a picture while on the walk!”...I almost forgot about that.

Yuta: Picture?

Rinne: Yup. It’s proof that I’m doing the pet-sitting properly.

Rinne: Blamery-chan, c’mere~ Say cheese…☆

Rinne: Ugh, it came out blurry.

Rinne: But still, it’s obviously a picture of Blamery-chan, so… Sent.

Rinne: Hmm? Another reply came.

Rinne: “It’s not cute, redo!”, huh? He’s a client with many orders.

Rinne: Alright Blamery-chan, pay attention to me~☆

Yuta: Ahaha, no picture will be good enough for him, you know~♪

Rinne: It’s hard to photograph animals, though. Yuta-kun, give it a try.

Yuta: Alright~. Sora-kun, could you tell Bloody Mary that we want to take a picture of her?

Sora: HeHe~♪ Sure thing!

Yuta: Okay, say cheese…☆

Yuta: Take a look, it looks pretty good.

Rinne: Ah, that’s cheating, Yuta-kun.

Yuta: Not true~. Nobody told me I can’t ask Sora-kun for help.

Yuta: Hey, Rinne-senpai, why don’t you try again like this now?

Rinne: Alright. Blamery-chan, look at me, pretty please ♪

At the same time, in the photo studio

Hiyori: ... ♪

Jun: Ohii-sama, what’s got you smirking at your phone like that?

Hiyori: I’m not “smirking like that”, I am smiling!

Jun:Doesn’t change much either way.

Hiyori: No, they are completely different!

Hiyori: “Smirking” is an expression that Ibara makes, and “Smiling” is an expression that Nagisa-kun makes!

Jun: When you put it that way…

Jun: I got it. I’ll say it the correct way.

Jun: So, what is it that’s making you smile? Did something good happen?

Hiyori: I’d asked Rinne-senpai to take Mary on a walk. I just got a picture from him!

Jun: …Huh? Isn’t that Harukawa-kun in the picture?

Hiyori: Rinne-senpai is the one taking the picture, so he’s not in it. Looks like he’s with Sora-kun and Yuta-kun right now.

Jun: Hmm… In any case, isn’t it pretty unexpected that you’d ask that guy to do this~?

Hiyori: I gave him a job in exchange for money. This is a noble’s duty, and I think he can manage since it’s just walking.

Hiyori: Since I know him, I knew that there was a chance he would slack off.

Hiyori: It’s good that he seems to be taking his job seriously…♪

[☆]

1. Dazzling-onii-san is Sora's nickname for Hiyori!

previous chapter 💧directory💧 next chapter

[secretmellowblog]

Another thing Fantine's death scene makes very clear is how much Valjean's politeness to Javert is a survival strategy. Valjean is polite to Javert in the way you're polite to a cop who pulls you over. I often see Valjean's ingratiating behavior to Javert read as proof that …he has some sincere admiration of Javert or something….but really it's it's more like Valjean's behavior towards the bigoted innkeepers in Digne. Javert has a massive level of power over Valjean. Valjean is in danger whenever he is around him. Javert can hurt him, horribly, and face no consequences. So Valjean has to be very careful. Valjean acts ingratiating towards him either in an effort to get him to manipulate him into doing things (like freeing Fantine), or in an attempt to avoid angering him enough to make him abuse his power. Even when Javert is screaming in his face like a child throwing a tantrum, Valjean remains supernaturally calm and polite-- because he has to be, in order to avoid being harmed even more.

When he's talking to Javert while in the middle of having a breakdown about Champmathieu and struggling to remain calm so he doesn't reveal his real identity, he'll say things like "you're an honest man and I esteem you"....but when he's alone in his quarters thinking about Javert privately, he'll describe him as "that Javert, who has been annoying me so long" and think of him in really inhuman animalistic terms, as a hunting dog who's chasing after him. (and that hunting dog imagery is how he sees Javert whenever he thinks about him privately throughout the rest of the book.) And it's complicated because like...yeah, Valjean does clearly have a lot of empathy/pity for Javert? In the impersonal way he has empathy/pity for everyone. He's genuinely kind to Javert, in the way he's kind to everyone. He rescues Javert at the barricade in the way he would've rescued any other person. If he had witnessed Javert attempting suicide, he would've stopped him, the way he would've stopped any other person. He fears him like he would fear any other police inspector, but he also pities him the way he would pity any other person. And there are some occasional implications that Valjean does have some Weird complicated feelings about Javert specifically, like the moment when he wishes Javert was at that Arras trial because "he would recognize me." But at the same time. I feel like some moments --- moments where Valjean is being polite in an effort to manipulate Javert into doing something for him OR in order to avoid angering Javert enough to hurt him--- are often read as "proof Valjean 100 percent genuinely sincerely admires/respects Javert...." which isnt an interpretation I'm personally really on board with.

[bright-and-burning]

got tagged by @albonoooo !! thank u <3

what colour are your eyes?: i have (very mild) heterochromia!! they’re mostly green but my left eye has a little brown stripe :) i guess u could call them hazel (or at least the left one) my mom certainly did for ages idk picture below u decide

(cont under the cut)

tell me about your pets/your dream pet: i (well. my family) have an orange cat and a porgi (pitbull corgi mix [he’s really just a mutt but we’re like 95% sure he’s got corgi in him somehow]). they are the lights of my life and also the goofiest lookin mfs. i’ve posted pics of my cat before but my dog is like. really distinct looking (see: porgi) but i love him so much … ask me for photos of him n u shall receive…

my apartment is pet free unfortunately. but also taking care of another whole ass being is A Lot so. i’m very chill w not having my own rn

share some interesting fact about yourself: i went to a spanish speaking daycare when i was really young (like toddler aged) and then when i was like 7 i invented my own language (as one does) and half the words were just. spanish. my parents spent ages trying to convince me that i did not just come up w the word espagnol . i swear to god. and i was a stubborn know it all kid and i wasn’t gonna believe them on anything without irrefutable proof (and how do u prove that??) so their efforts were largely fruitless LOL

what was the first fandom you were a part of?: for SURE harry potter. 9 year old me had unsupervised internet access and went craaazy

do you have any phobias?: hm. i Really Really Really don’t like things going near my eyes. it was wayyy worse before i started wearing contacts. like someone waving their hands around within three feet of me would freak me out. i do still get like. inescapable visions of pencils being waved around and accidentally put in my eye when i think abt it/when ppl wave pencils around that i have to physically shake out of

are you a picky eater? if so, what food can't you stand?: YES! texture issues my beloathed… i DESPISE melted cheese. blergh. bad bad vibes. and other funky textured cheeses… i literally just physically shuddered.

do you eat the burger and fries at the same time or one after another?: i consciously choose to eat burger first to get protein in. and THEN fries. if burger too hot then i get to eat two (must be even number) fries at a time until it cools enough to eat

winter or summer: summer <3 i love the beach i love the sun i love 6am runs where it’s already 75° i love swimming i love fun festivals. but also summer is a mindset . if it’s 65° in march im walking around in shorts and a tank top and sitting in the sun the entire day

favourite fanfiction tropes: oh gosh… best friends to lovers… idk i read it all baby. also gonna be honest the f1 interpretations of a/b/o are FASCINATING!!! and have really increased the draw by Far for me

are you studying or working? what do you study/is your job?: working! i am a silly little analyst

what is the last country you visited: canada in june to get drunk by the lake for a week <3

what country would you want to move to after retiring?: france… maybe not. but also maybe yeah. idk i don’t have any other strong connections to places, u kno? and i’d like to travel (fingers crossed i Can retire at an age where i can still travel easily lol)

who was your first crush?: gene kelly in singin in the rain and on the town… formative movies for 3y/o me

how did you get into f1 fandom?: web weavings on tumblr + like three random instagram reels (the mclaren wavelength video being the only one i remember lol) + the empty hole unemployment left me with inside = instant obsession

no pressure tag…. @oscarpiastriwdc @ocontraire @crimsonicarus @lafaerie @mecachrome

[runninriot]

who needs sleep anyway ✍️

“What did you tell him about me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Eddie answers all secretive and Steve can practically see the self-satisfied smile on his face he always gets when he’s being a teasing little shit.

Two can play that game.

“Oh pleeease, Eddie. Please tell me,” he croons with a voice so sugary sweet he’s sure Eddie will take the bait.

“Well, if you ask so nicely… Told him I made a new friend. A very nice and handsome young man. So polite. Always says please and thank you. Told him we’re working on a biology project together.”

“You did not!” Steve laughs shyly and feels his cheeks heating up at the thought of Eddie basically telling his poor uncle that they’re having sex.

“Might’ve. Guess you’ll never know. How was your weekend? Did you miss me already?”

Steve did. His mind keeps wandering to the other man constantly because he is a hopeless addict already longing for his next fix, another taste of Eddie’s sweet poison.

“Did, yeah,” Steve breathes into the phone.

“My poor baby. Sorry I had to leave so early yesterday. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Next time?”

Please, let there be a next time soon.

“Could make it up to you right now, if you want.”

For a moment Steve thinks Eddie is going to ask him to drive over to his place despite it already being so late but that question never comes.

“Are you alone?”

“Y-Yeah? Robin is- she’s in her room. I’m in mine.”

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting on my bed. Was going over some notes before you called.”

“Hmm, on your bed you say. How about you forget those silly notes. Let me be a bad influence and offer you something a little more... fun.”

Conditioned like a Pavlovian dog to start drooling to the sound of a bell, the deep sound of Eddie's voice offering him a fun time goes straight to his dick. He can already feel the swelling in his sweatpants growing.

“You’re always a bad influence.”

Eddie laughs and it’s followed by a deep almost-growl that sends shivers down Steve’s spine.

“Yeah, but you love it. You can’t get enough of it. Using me as an excuse to misbehave when you always pretend to be so good.”

“I am good.”

“You’re my naughty little fuck-toy, that’s what you are.”

Steve bites down on the back of his hand to suppress the whimpering noises coming out of his mouth. He has to be quiet if he doesn’t want to scar his best friend in the other room for life. The walls really are thin.

“N-No. ‘M your good boy.”

“I don’t know, doll. Think I need proof of that to believe it. Let’s see how good you are at following orders. Are you wearing a shirt?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Take it off. And then I want you to make yourself comfortable on your bed.”

In a single moment of clarity, Steve scrambles off the bed and stumbles through his room to turn off the light and lock his door.

Better to be safe than sorry.

[rowanthestrange]

Foster Pup Blog:

How I ate breakfast this morning

We survived the night!

Given his trauma reactions to being locked in, we aren’t shutting him in his Secret Den yet, so the middle-ground we’re going for is having him in the living room overnight. …obviously that also has a shut door, and his separation anxiety won’t be having that (and nothing’s ever fully day one puppy proof), so I get to move temporarily onto the sofa. Depending on how long he’s here, the plan is that he gets used to the crate enough we can first drop the blanket down like a door, then add the door, then remove me. Or failing that, work out the majority of unsupervised puppy-proofing problems, give the sofas up for lost and get to be happy if they don’t get chewed up, and slowly move me out of the room that way.

But he did manage to last a whole night from around 11pm to 6:30am without waking up for a walk about. And while we did have a little full-bladder accident this morning he did really tried to hold it and we’d have probably made it if I hadn’t chanced trying to put my hoodie on first. (We’re on the second story so it’s not as instant out as we’d like, but he’s already got the idea).

He does woof at just about everything, which we’re trying to positively train out, but given everything it might take a while, which we may or may not have. And he seems to have an understandably wonky view of ‘object permanence’. If my husband goes behind a door or upstairs, the little lad hears noises and woofs at him like it’s a stranger until he sees him. Makes sense. He’s been in kennels with their many entrances and exits and huge variety of people working there. The humans in his life must have seemed completely random and unknowable to him. When he woke up this morning (and bear in mind I’m not one to anthropomorphise) he slid out of bed, butt first, had a little sleepy look around, and when he noticed me you could see the shock and surprise in his eyes, and he then rushed up for cuddles. He must’ve grown to enjoy being with so many people, and then they leave again. With a human baby we try to limit their number of primary caregivers to prevent attachment disorders; probably something similar for puppers.

The rescue people are still all but forging the adoption papers. Even the foster care coordinator is pushing for it, though you’d think that’d reduce our utility (“sometimes I might want a dog fostered alongside another - if he can do it then there’s nothing stopping that”) and oh he is lush. But the thing I think is weird is…ok I’m trained to some degree in dog and animal care (and frankly the childcare I think also counts, a lot of similarities tbh except sadly not allowed to clicker-train the toddlers), and yes I’ve got time, flexibility, and enough income to cover sudden basic needs/medical care. But I don’t think we’re that special - those are standards the forms want you to meet. It’s just one of those things where you’re thinking what the usual clientele on the list for adopting a rescue puppy are like then? Cus I’d have thought we’d be average really, our home and garden setup isn’t great, and we had to cart our big old border collie/doberman cross in the back seats of a clapped-out Mini that didn’t even have back doors and he had to climb through the front ones (and we’re still transporting this little lad in the same one! Though actually do plan to get another now cus it’s costing new car money to fix it at this point). I don’t know, it’s just like…you know when you see visible emotional relief in a service worker’s eyes when something goes wrong and you’re nice to them, and you’re like ‘fuck I thought this was normal politeness levels, what are people usually like to you?’ That. At the end when I pulled the tape-measure out of my pocket in our first meeting with him so I could size what harness he’d need, one of them literally went “yeah I want you to have him”. But I don’t know, maybe a baseline awareness of what you’re getting into is not actually the default I think it is. Might be Autisming. Just because you think through details of needs and how something might work in a full flow-diagram mega tree of options, doesn’t mean everyone does.

And I do think he is going to be a bit more of a pickle than they think with these early impermanence trauma complications, more so than pure simple separation anxiety I think. And I suppose we would just be adding another stone to that wall, with him leaving us for yet another brand new set of humans… Or is that just justifying myself?

(Though one more neutral thing is that he lies flat with frog-legs a lot:)

(EDS people recognise that hypermobility? They’ll be able to check him for hip dysplasia/its level if so when he gets snipped, but our vet friend is at least a little unsure on their health and wants him on joint supplements if he stays (a lot easier than Brigsy since this one isn’t allergic to seafood). And we do know what his therapy exercise needs and the hydrotherapy people well)

How do you know whether to trust that people see something right in you? Or is that also a form of arrogance - not trusting other’s assessment of you? Bah. Sorry. This is what happens when I start actually blogging on the blogging site.

Have some compensatory puppy pictures: