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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 days ago

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@zepskies

Okay I'm here and I am ready for the finale of this wonderful series!

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes. “Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

I like this line, because it's what made Dean stop. In my head I feel like this version of Dean has pushed away so many people and the reader is the first person in a long time to genuinely say that she was "worried" about him, and it strikes something in his chest because he couldn't remember the last time it happened. That's the headcanon in my head anyway lol.

Also the spice was.... 😱🌶️🔥. I literally cannot write smut to save my life, but you always write it so well! I also liked that you didn't do it as intense as omegaverse usually is, because we both know how it can be 👀

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?” You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?” “For me to let you go,” he says.

OH MY WORD DEAN SHUT UP! I promise it's okay! She loves you and she can see that you're not a bad person because you literally have been nursing her back to health with her broken ankle 😭 Not to mention you guys are fated! She's not going to let you go no matter what you do.

But again... on brand for Dean to hate himself and to think he's not good enough -sigh- just means that you get to spend more time wrapped up with him trying to convince him 😊😉. I also believe that Dean loves intimac, that he does crave that connection with someone, not to mention I still love what you do in your Midnight Espresso series with Dean being a little touch starved for non-sexual touch. I feel like you've also implied this here and it is marvelous!

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling. You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention. “You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.”

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?” “She. She’s a she.” “Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?” Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.”

I'm literally cackling. I can hear Dean saying this to his significant other. Meeting Baby for the first time holds the same place in his heart as meeting Sam for the first time 🤣 ALSO, I wasn't ready for the palm kiss. Palm kisses and forehead kisses DESTROY me.

I like that this was an alternate ending to the dumpster fire that was the end of Supernatural. That it's Dean and his girl out on the open road listening to a Led Zeppelin song holding hands in the front seat of Baby was just beautiful in the best way and a perfect ending to this mini-series my wonderful friend!! I am going to miss this couple so much, but it really was a fitting end for them 🥰

Against the Wind - Part 4

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: The grand finale...

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.

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Part 4: Running to Live

His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.

Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.

A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.

Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.

“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.

“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.

“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.

You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.

“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.

Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.

With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.

Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.

Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.

He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”

“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.

He snorts. “That too.”

You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…

His heart pounds in his chest.

“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.

The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.

Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.

His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.

He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.

“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”

“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”

No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him.

Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.

“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”

He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.

Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.

“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”

Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.

Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder.

“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”

Once again, he hears you.

His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house.

While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.

Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right.

When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”

You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”

“For me to let you go,” he says.

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”

Dean remains quiet.

“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”

He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.

“You don’t know me that well,” is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips.

You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”

A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.

Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.

“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says.

He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between.

There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues.

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas.

You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”

You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”

“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”

You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention.

“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.”

Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips.

“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks.

So you tell him.

You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes.

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn.

Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate.

You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason.

When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide.

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.”

He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat.

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”

“She. She’s a she.”

“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.”

You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him.

“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”

Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss.

Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital.

“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement.

“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”

You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh.

“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”

After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live.

Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”

You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.”

He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.

“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb.

“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question.

He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.

Damn, this man is old school.

He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his.

Made up my mind to make a new start.

Going to California with an aching in my heart…

AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!

Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~

But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜

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#jensen ackles #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #against the wind #spn #supernatural #Guys I Read Something! 😱

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l0s3rd0wnt0wn · 20 hours ago

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Weird black neglected!reader and the things the hate about the batboys do that disgust reader

So basically, there was a post ask what the bafamily does that disgust readers, or what disgusts readers—that's something like that. I can't find the ask because I answered it by accident when I wasn't finished, so whoever asked, you know who you are.

What disgusts readers the most about Bruce is his playboy persona; it irks readers to their core. Readers have always held Bruce to high expectations because their mom only spoke well of him. But all that changes when they attend a gala and see Bruce flirting with a girl decades younger than him. It makes their blood boil. Readers know the next girl is just the woman of the month, maybe day. When they were younger, a lot of the ladies would try to be nice to readers just to get on Bruce's good side. And Bruce tries to tell the reader it's just a fling and it means nothing, so no one will think he's the bad guy, but you don't care (he could be loyal, and loyal to your mother). Making the bat really guilty.

Dick, with his fake smiles and womanizing ways, makes it hard for the reader to support someone who hides their feelings or opinions when reporters or paparazzi approach him. He feels compelled to smile even while seething inside. Not only that, the reader dislikes when Dick attempts to fix everyone else's problems just to elevate himself and suppress his feelings; his womanizing tendencies are even more off-putting. The reader once looked up to Dick as a younger sibling would to an older brother, but his constant flirting with anyone within a five-mile radius has turned that admiration into disdain. This makes your poor older brother feel horrible and like a bad remodel.

Jason's nonchalance or indifference to things is perplexing, especially since you know deep down he is passionate about something he cares about. Yet, he'll never express this, at least not with you. He acts as if nothing is wrong when there is indeed something wrong. Deep down, a little Robin is screaming out and asking for help, but he'll never let it out. This type of denial disgusts the reader. Being your true self is the best self you can be; being passionate and headstrong is the best feeling in the world. Yet, he refuses to embrace it; he would rather stay constant than move forward. Jason really wants to make connections; he desperately wants to be a part of something. He wants to confide in the reader, but it might be a little too late for that.

Tim, a hypocrite and a smart-ass, reader is okay with being corrected; it just shows that they needs to learn. However, nitpicking every little thing he does really irks them. Telling the reader that something is wrong is not actual criticism; it’s just a way to put someone down. Boy, he is such a hypocrite! Timothy will literally tell you that monsters are bad, yet he goes and downs six Red Bulls before a patrol. Sure, he needs the energy, but he could eat a protein bar like a regular person. Not to mention, he is always telling you that something is really unhealthy, only for him to eat little to nothing at all. You always snap at him, and he’ll try to tell you he’s looking out for you like a brother should, but you don’t care. He really just wants you to be better than him, and be more responsible but the reader doesn't care for that.

Damian, pretentious and with a God complex, is literally an Arabian prince, so what did you expect from that little twerp? He thinks he’s better when he’s not that special. He’ll show off to readers every day and in every way. You pick up new hobbies, and it's his hobby now, and he’ll be better at it than you, probably discouraging you in the process and making you give up. If you're good, he'll try to be twice as good. Some younger siblings want to be like their big brother or sister or whatever, and it’s cute, but this isn’t cute; this is just stupid, and you hate it because Alfred always makes you hang out with the hellspawn. He’ll show off to your friends or brag about being Robin or how he used to live before the manor, and you want to hit the living daylights out of him. But even if you're taller, the kid was trained to kill at birth, so there’s no way. But all of this is because he really wants your attention and praise. You’re the only person in the house who doesn’t praise him or give him the time of day. He’s your younger brother; he shouldn’t be ignored like this. He’s royalty! Why are you rolling your eyes while he’s telling you about all the places he's been? You should be clapping and smiling—don’t ignore him!

#batfamily x neglected reader #x black reader #yandere batboys #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #weird!reader #black!reader #x neglected reader

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veilsofroses · 3 days ago

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Hello, nice to see another blog writing for Bleach! Welcome 🤗

I hope you don’t mind me making a small request. Headcanons for Byakuya, Kisuke, Jushiro and Ichigo (all with gn!reader) for when they take care of you after you return from a mission injured (nothing major)? Just some soft and fluffy, content. Thank you! And hope you have fun writing!

— @satsugacafe 💜

Tending to your wounds

Byakuya Kuchiki, Kisuke Urahara, Jushiro Ukitake, Ichigo Kurosaki x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of open wounds and blood, just fluff <3 author’s note: that is so sweet thank you sm 🥹 also my phone kept wanting to autocorrect jushiro to juanito

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Byakuya Kuchiki

Despite his icy exterior, he is constantly worrying about you

When you return from your mission, you’d try your best to hide your injury from him but he’d see through you like you’re made of glass

He’d notice immediately the subtle winces and how you avoid touching your side

He would eventually corner you to confront you. A simple, “you’re injured,” and you’d have no choice but to reveal the small but painful cut you sustained on your side

He would insist on taking care of it himself, no need for any of the healers. “Sit.” There is no room for discussion in his voice so you oblige

His face would remain in its usual unreadable expression as he’d bandage your wound but his touch is noticeably soft, making sure to make it as painless as possible

Once you’re all bandaged up, his touch would linger on your waist for a few moments, as if he’s grounding himself by feeling your skin. Possibilities of how it could’ve gone much worse run through his mind

“Do not let this happen again.” It’s an order, yes, but under his reprimand is a plea to never put yourself in danger again for his own sake

He wouldn’t be able to bear losing his love again

⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Kisuke Urahara

He would excitedly greet you in your return, planting kisses on your face and casually noting the blood that seeped through your sleeve

Wait… blood??

Once he realized, he’d spring into action grabbing all the necessary items before you could even say a word

To anyone else, he’d look like he’s casually following routine, but he’ll be making note to use the best medicine he has saved just for you. He wouldn’t want you feeling another ounce of pain

He’d try to hide his panic with jokes. “I don't want to imagine what the other guy must look like.” He might even get a little touchy as he’s bandaging you up, the pervert he is

Unfortunately, he’s an open book to you. It’s all a facade to distract himself from the fact that you’re actually hurt

You’d stop him before he can make another bad joke, “Relax, Kisuke.”

He’d look at you bewildered for a moment before looking down, shaking his head, chuckling

Besides Yoruichi, you were the only other person who could read him so well and that still amazed him

The best medicine he did use because you felt better than ever after he patched you up

He’d pat your head. “Why, of course. You’re being treated by the best there is,” acting like he wasn’t about to throw up smh

⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Jushiro Ukitake

The entire time you’re gone, he’d drown himself in paperwork otherwise he would have carved a hole in the floor from his nervous pacing

Seeing you finally walk through the door would earn him the biggest sigh of relief

That is until he noticed you limping. Anyone else would have missed it

He’d waste no time in questioning you about it. You’d try to brush him off, of course, nagging him about him giving you an interrogation rather than a warm welcome

But he’d have none of it. You’d sigh in defeat and lift your pant leg, revealing a small laceration on your calf with a half-assed bandage

He would immediately start scolding you, telling you that you shouldn’t have taken an enemy on by yourself

Then start the questions. “How did this happen? Why didn’t you call for backup? How long ago?“

He’d snap out of it when you falter trying to take another step and he rushes to catch you before you fall

He’d follow up with an apology, holding you tight and reassuring you he’s just glad you’re back home safely

Helping you walk, he’d bring you to the healers and stay by your side the whole time, making sure they heal you until you’re good as new

And even then, he’d be watching you carefully. You’re still recovering from a hefty mission, after all

So that’s his excuse to spoil you for the next few days with your favorite treats, massages, and anything else you request

⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Ichigo Kurosaki

The second he’d lay eyes on you after you return from your mission, he’d be at your side, frantically scanning you over. “Are you hurt?” are the first words out of his mouth

He’d ask that about a thousand times

You’d try to reassure him that you’re fine but unlike Kisuke who would at least try to hide his freak out, Ichigo would simply freak tf out at the sight of blood on your arm

He’s unsure of what to do at first, the sight of you injured scrambles his brain

Eventually, you’d calm him down enough that he’d finally lock in and realize you need to be treated

He’d use the limited knowledge he’s gotten from his dad in the clinic and bandage you up to the best of his abilities, nervous about possibly hurting you further

After you’re set, he’d go silent, holding your hand, and you’d immediately know he’s blaming himself. “I should’ve been there to protect you.”

You’d pull him in and he’d hold you, gently as to not hurt you but firmly. If it was up to him, he’d never let you go again

You’d tell him you’re capable of taking care of yourself and he knows that, but he can’t help his protective instinct over you and would vow to never let harm come to you again

- - - - - -

tag: @satsugacafe

#bleach #bleach x reader #byakuya kuchiki #byakuya x reader #byakuya kuchiki x reader #kisuke urahara #urahara x reader #urahara kisuke x reader #jushiro ukitake #ukitake jushiro x reader #ichigo kurosaki #ichigo x reader #ichigo kurosaki x reader #fluff #headcanon #x reader

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strangeaxel · 3 days ago

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you appear to draw isaac and gerard as being very physically close. cuddly even (:3c), and i want to learn more about this specific aspect because its so cute.. were they always like that? did they have to build up a lot of trust in each other first? how do they see and engage with touch? are/were they ever touch starved?

Drawing a made for the ask lalalala

First of all, thanks for the question! <3

In Gerard's case he used to touch Isaac's hands for example or shoulders to basically indicate he was safe with him and also try to communicate he wanted something more than a friendship with him when they were starting to know each other. I feel like even tho Gerard doesn't consider he's romantic himself in a traditional way i feel he actually is-- (Like when Susana Gimenez asked Charly Garcia if he was romantic and he said yes and Susana asked him "really? You like a dinner, with roses and candles??" And he said "i said im romantic, not stupid" lmao) He calls bitch pet names and cute things even tho she's always abusive towards him, he still tries, so imagine how much freedom could he have with someone like Isaac, a guy that has an anxious attachedment style. I feel he is the way he is in the game as a way of self defense, a way for him to cope with all the shit he has to go through all the time xD so he can't show much emotion or tries to hide it with humor, but in Isaac's world, this paradise isn't so bad, it's more,,, realistic. He doesn't have the constant need to hide his needs in a relationship like he used to (Well, only in private since ... its the 90s-2000s, duh). Gerard started to be more expressive with his physical touch towards Isaac as went time on, cuz of isaac's delusions of people being infected or sinful (this last one mostly because of his alters, for example, Demon) and also so Isaac could have time to process his own feelings, being someone who tries/tried to be a devoted christian this relationship felt wrong in all senses, it took him some time to accept he indeed liked him. Isaac isn't someone who would be nagging you on the streets is he saw you in, for example, a gay relationship, he's ignorant mostly, he doesn't have evil intentions (he also uses this ignorant/innocent view as a way to cope with his own emotions towards man).

While in Isaac's case, once he accepted it/half accepted it started to do your typical couple stuff, only in private, he gets mad when Gerard holds his hand on public and even tho this bothers Gerard a little bit he just can't complain, he understands but also well... his wife was much worst than this. Isaac feels safe cuddling with him, he feels like nothing wrong can happend when he's around (even tho Gerard's bad luck follows him everywhere lol), sometimes when he's having strong episodes because of his delusion it feels like he and him are the only non infected. Isaac has BPD so touch and words mean a lot to him even tho he isn't the best showing his love in a conventional way + he's non verbal for most of the time, it's like they both have two different types of autism lol

I think that's all i have to say about this at least for now, i'm still working on the ship but these types of questions really help me to understand and think of ways to improve it, thanks a lot for the question once again, i'm glad people are interested in knowing about my au/ship.

The song i used as lyrics for the drawing (i love this Tribute so much, please go check it out):

youtube

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tooturtly · 17 hours ago

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Still on my locked tomb and feudalism bullshit, so here’s a discussion of John, and how I think he systematically uses the decentralized nature of the Nine Houses to avoid the realities of being God.

Essentially, what it says on the tin, but first, context. (Can you tell I’m somehow more unhinged now?). Feudalism is a political structure with a fair amount of decentralization of power. It usually came about in the past after a larger government/political system collapsed, such as Rome. Essentially, a King/Emperor cannot feasibly run large amounts of territory, with the citizens of those territories being from diverse backgrounds and customs, without a lot of loyal subordinates helping out. Enter the nobility.

The nobility do the work of running the lands so that the King/Emperor doesn’t have to maintain a large bureaucracy to, let’s say, collect taxes from each individual person, hold a census, or run a court of law. This does not mean the ruler gets to fuck off, they do have responsibilities to the realm, their court, their knights, and the nobles who support them. Some people have to like you to remain in power, otherwise you get assassinated.

So what does all this have to do with John? Well, first, I think it’s safe to say from what we’ve seen that the Nine Houses are very similar to a feudalist system. You have a collection of independent, semiautonomous populations that can generally keep themselves together. They have slightly different takes on religion, loyalty to the empire, and necromancy, but they are all unified under it.

Second, I think we can also say that John has a very specific perception of himself that does not always align with the reality. He wears worn, casual clothes that are not the type of thing anyone else wears, but includes a crown of infant bones. He has a casual, relaxed attitude, but also can pull out a speech about avenging death and fighting for the empire seemingly off the top of his head. He doesn’t want Harrow to treat him like God, yet also constantly quotes works from a world nobody but he can remember. His narration of his actions in Nona paint him as seeing what he did as something anyone would do, as not that bad, as the act of a desperate, passionate man. Yet he also rebuilt the world to make himself God and Emperor above everyone else, the head of a ten thousand year long grudge campaign.

The contradiction is inherent in his title, man who became god, and god who is man. Harrow especially points out moments where he seems mortal, human, calling attention to how he otherwise appears completely separate and divine.

John is a complicated character. People smarter than me have written more with better evidence laid out. What I’m trying to get at though is that, to me, John reads as a man who cannot view himself as having vast amounts of power over others on the regular. To a certain extent he has to view himself as ‘just a little guy’ so he doesn’t have to reconcile with the actions that have caused massive amounts of harm. He wants the Lyctors to be his friends and associates, rather than their boss.

The structure of the Nine Houses helps with that. He doesn’t have to regularly speak to the average citizen, or deal with the daily problems of the people and their Houses, or hell, even the people he’s conquered. Mercymorn says something in Harrow about how the Emperor’s seat is the Mithraeum, the place light years away from the people he is supposed to allegedly rule. The place only realistically accessible by traveling through the River, a feat only possibly by Lyctors (for the most part). And we learn that he’s only been away from that for 80 years, and he assumedly spent most of his previous ten thousand years there.

Because he is at the top of the power structure, he can lose himself in the bigger picture and forget about the reality, which is the fact that he is running a colonial Empire that requires the biological death of planets and people to survive.

#can you tell this is half baked #I hope not #this has pushed around my brain so long it is now mush #and I must share it before it is gone #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #harrow the ninth #john gaius #harrow the ninth spoilers #she hates the body john made her so much guys #mercymorn the first #tlt meta #tlt brainrot

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bibookdemon · 3 days ago

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Chat. Gay chicken(?) with Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan.

Warning for some nsfw aspects further down ;3

-Started out as SQH writing LBH as bi in PIDW, he was catering to the fans so suddenly LBH discovers he's also into men lmfao, so he writes a smut scene between LBH and another man and it is so much worse than any of the other smut. Bro did not do any of his fucking research. He has no fucking clue.

-Some of the fans eat it up but SY is like NUH UH THIS IS SHIT. And of course he writes that it's shit.

-For once, SQH writes back: 'Like YOU would know, you rich fucking asshole!' (He's gathered that SY has enough money he can sit around all day and leave bad reviews on his story.)

-SY is all 'Of course I know, idiot! Literally everyone knows how to write gay smut!!'

-And SQH is too deep in his rage to think about what he's saying so: 'Prove it then.'

-SY is also too deep. 'Come to XX on XX day.'

-They meet at a bustling coffeeshop that's super cute and geared towards couples. SY's first impression of SQH is 'wow he's short' and SQH's first impression of SY is 'yeah he looks fucking gay.' And he's pretty sure he's gonna eat his words.

-They go on a fucking coffee date. SY buys him coffee, they get a cute table in a semi-private corner, they actually get to talking and everything is kinda chill.

-SQH eventually remembers that hey, this guy is the jerk who leaves shitty comments on his story. So he tells him to man tf up and prove he knows about gay smut.

-SY is now scrambling to figure it out. He does not, in fact, know how to write gay smut. He does not, in fact, know how to prove it. So, now that he's panicking, he does the unexpected to divert SQH's attention: He slides a hand over SQH's, leans it, and kisses him right on the lips. 'How's this for gay?'

-SQH is absolutely surprised and flustered and also holy fuck that was like a really good kiss and low-key he wants to be kissed like that again but- 'still doesn't prove anything - unless you're unable to prove it'

-SY is in this too deep and has too much pride to give in. So he decides to go for another shock factor. He gets out his phone and he calls his favorite hotel. And he books a room. And SQH is just thinking to himself 'what the fuck have I gotten myself into' but of course he's not gonna back out! He has too much pride as well, and hey, a hotel room is better than his dingy little place, and maybe he also wants some more of those kisses.

-They go to the hotel in SY's car (SQH took the bus to get to the coffee shop) and then they're at the hotel and then SY is initiating a quick, sloppy kiss in the parking lot and SQH is feeling a little turned on and then- they have to go inside

-He figured SY was rich, but he didn't realize just HOW rich the bastard was. Bro got a fucking suite. It's huge, the bed is nice, the moment they're inside the room, SY's tongue is down his throat.

-After that, they both sorta stumble through the steps, SQH is too busy being turned on and wanting more kissing to recognize that SY is fumbling with everything and is sweating buckets and trembling cause he's so nervous. When it was time to put the condom on SY was so worried he was gonna rip it lmfao

-And they fuck, and it's awkward but also good, and SQH afterwards is just like 'you should prove you know how to write gay smut more often. To me.'

-SY is just like 'yeah, yeah,' he's tired and he wants to sleep and he just grabs SQH and snuggles him cause it feels right.

-Morning rolls around and they both realize what they just did + what they said they'd do in the future. And they're both looking at each other wide-eyed. And finally, SQH is all, 'Look Cucumber-bro, I don't know about you, but I had a fun time, and fuck all the stupid shit about writing gay smut, I want to BE the gay smut.'

-And SY is just like 'Ok,' because he has nothing better to say but he doesn't mind SQH's reasoning and he liked the sex.

-They'd be fucking hilarious. Poor SY doesn't know what he signed up for, SQH ends up having this endless stamina + an endless torrent of new ideas for them to try. 'I have to know how it works for the story!!! The fans are eating up my writing lately!!!!' - And SY has come to find SQH absolutely adorable and he can't say no to that cute face.

-They're just fuck-buddies at first, but they eventually develop a crush on each other, have a whole dramatic situation over that, and then start dating. (SY starts showering SQH in rich gifts lmao - some of them are useful some art, SQH loves all of them cause omg his boyfriend loves him and gift-giving is part of his love language.)

#headcanon #hcs #scum villian self saving system #scum villain #scumbag system #scumbag self saving system #shang qinghua #sqh #mxtx svsss #svsss #svsss sqh #shen yuan #sy #svsss sy #shen yuan x shang qinghua #cumplane

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suzukiblu · 18 hours ago

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First 1k of the 5k I promised y'all as a thank-you for helping me out with that car insurance bill behind the cut; “YJ packs up and gets pupped”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He’d cry a lot harder, probably, but–no, he wouldn’t mind. Like . . . literally zero percent would he mind . . . mind anyone doing that for him. Even if Red Tornado only smells like metal and wires and machinery and, like, a little bit of clumsy scenting from Traya and maybe an even littler, subtle bit of it from, like–Kathy . . .

Kon feels like an asshole for thinking it, but a dude who is a literal machine and doesn’t even have a designation or pheromones having, like–having even estranged packmates when he doesn’t even . . . when he’s never actually . . .

Even in Hawaii, he didn’t have a pack. Like–Rex and Roxy had their family pack, and Tana had her family pack, and Dubbilex is a null and totally uninterested in packing up with anybody, which sometimes some shitty part of Kon’s wondered if that’s, like–if that’s why Cadmus picked Dubbilex to be his stupid fake “chaperone” or . . . whatever. Because Dubbilex–Dubbilex wouldn’t ever get too–too–

Kon’s pretty fucking positive that Dubbilex doesn’t really think of him the way he’s sometimes wished the guy would either. And Roxy–Roxy’s the closest thing he’s ever had to a sibling unless he counts Match, who literally thinks he’s just a shitty prototype and nothing else, but she wasn’t–she wasn’t his pack sibling or anything like that. And even if she had been, he doesn’t even know where she is now; hasn’t even seen her in months. More months than he even actually remembers it being, since he spent a real significant portion of that time, like–literally out of his mind on gross fucked-up amnesia drugs that made him literally feral, so . . .

And it’s not like it’s not, like–public, that he’s back and currently working for Cadmus and rolling with Young Justice and all that. If Roxy or Tana or anybody wanted to find him . . . they could find him, if they wanted to.

But they haven’t.

He misses Hawaii so bad right now. Like . . . all the time, really. But especially right now.

“Then I will do it,” Red Tornado says. It sounds the same exact way he just said it, like he’s just replaying a recording or something. Like he saved a copy of it the first time, because he was already planning to say it again.

Kon is definitely gonna be mortified about this later, he thinks as he scrubs the sleeve of his jacket across his wet eyes.

“Okay,” he manages. “Uh–okay. Uh. Thanks.”

He–he could use more stuff to nest with, definitely, and if Red Tornado brings it he won’t have to leave his nest for it, and like . . . the food and drinks or whatever wouldn’t hurt either, obviously. He didn’t think to get anything like that ready while he was distracted looking for stuff with everybody’s scents to nest with and when the Super-Cycle offered him a nesting pit to just–when the Super-Cycle made him a nesting pit in itself to use–well, like. Then he hadn’t really cared, after that. Like . . . that had not been a thing he was worried about, after that. So . . . so if Red Tornado doesn’t mind getting him some of that stuff before he goes . . . wherever he goes to, like, hang out when he’s on his own, well . . . like, that’d be . . . that’d be . . .

Nice, Kon admits to himself, though that’s embarrassing to think even when he’s already all overemotional and weird anyway.

But–but it would be. Nobody’s . . . nobody’s gonna come “attend” him, or even just . . . just be here with him, so . . . so it’d be nice, if Red Tornado would . . . would get him a couple things, and he could . . . could pretend like . . . like somebody–like he’d had somebody who–

Red Tornado he guesses does count as somebody who’d, like, “attend” him a little, but like . . . not like a packmate would. Like . . . in a pack, somebody does . . . “attend” people who’re presenting in it. Somebody–stays, at least.

Kon guesses the Super-Cycle’s technically volunteered to do that, so like . . . so that’s already better than he thought he was gonna get. And he did find everybody’s scents–or at least, almos everybody’s scents and Robin’s blockers–so if Red Tornado gets him more stuff to nest with too . . .

That’s–definitely better than he thought he was gonna get, yeah.

“Is there anyone I will need to make sure the security measure will allow entry to the base?” Red Tornado asks, and Kon–startles, a little.

“Uh–what?” he asks stupidly, not understanding what he means. What’s . . . ?

Red Tornado tilts his head, very slightly.

“To attend to you,” he says. “Did you invite anyone without prior security clearance, or are they a member of the team?”

“I–they’ve got packs,” Kon says reflexively, too confused to bite it back. But . . . “Like . . . they’ve all got–packs. And, like–school and shit, anyway. I wouldn’t . . . I wouldn’t bug ‘em with this.”

He doesn’t even know if . . . like, why even would they come, if he actually . . .

Red Tornado’s expression doesn’t change, obviously. Like, his expression is literally physically incapable of changing. He doesn’t even adjust the tilt of his head or shift his center of balance or–anything at all, really. Doesn’t even make that electric humming fridge-compressor sound again.

Kon suddenly feels like something about him just changed, though.

“I see,” Red Tornado says. “Who will I need to provide security clearance for, then?”

“Um,” Kon says, and tries not to cringe. “You–don’t. It’s–fine. Like, I don’t–it’s fine. I didn’t, like . . . call anybody, or anything. I’m just gonna, you know–crash for a day or two, and then like, I’ll put everything away and run the scent-scrubbers and everything. That’s, like–that’s all. I don’t need, like . . . ‘attended’, or whatever. Like–I’m not gonna bother anybody with that.”

Red Tornado’s just looking at him with the exact same expression, but it still feels like something’s changed.

#kon el #conner kent #superboy #red tornado #young just us #young justice #wip: yj packs up and gets pupped #omegaverse

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buck-up-buttercup · 1 day ago

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So we all know how protective and possessive Caleb is. I want to write some head-canons on how he perceives and responds to people showing interest in MC (you) throughout the years.

As a child, Caleb had a fierce obligation towards protecting you from bullies. He even went so far as to lock you in an attic to prevent you from getting caught up in a fight with those twerps (reference Rain's Embrace). Especially with how fool-hardy you could be, he knew to keep you out of it completely. The bullies he mentions fending off would have been more than eager to play with a cute girl such as you. Caleb didn't like how rough they could be with you, obviously lacking respect towards a young girl who wanted to "run with the boys" as you so claimed. And of course, you only wanted to because Caleb could. But Caleb could handle himself and unfortunately, he couldn't juggle fending these kids off and keeping you unscathed in the mix of things. He needed to prove to these kids that he was not to be messed with and neither were you. That day, he made it doubly clear that no kid was to mess with you. He never fully explains to you the scuffle he went through to gain this sort of respect, but he won't ever forget learning to take advantage of his Evol to use against someone for the first time... and of course, that first time was for you. Everything he did was for you, somehow.

As a high-schooler, Caleb had many admirers and thus received many gifts and notes in school. You were always a little put off by it. You always thought Caleb was cute, but you didn't realize just how cute until his admirers showered him with attention. You also joked with him about being jealous that he received so many gifts on holidays from secret (or sometimes not-so-secret) admirers while you were left with none. He'd quickly play it off with a smile, claiming you could have all of his gifts if you wanted them since he had no interest in any of his admirers. Besides, he always provided you with the most thoughtful and personable gifts, so was it really so bad? Quality vs quantity, after all. He'd be sure that you would never know about him going behind your back to scare the life out of any teenage boy who so much as looked your way. One instance would have been in PE when the boys were having their typical "locker talk." Caleb wasn't one to join in on such conversations... until you were brought up one day. Some dumb boy would talk about checking you out and Caleb would immediately chime in, "keep her out of your filthy conversation. If I hear anyone say anything demeaning about her, they're going to regret it. Got it?" The boys would be wide eyed and agree not to speak about you. Even if there were some jocks involved, they knew better than to try to one-up someone with Caleb's stature. Not only was he a well-liked and high-achieving student, he was very athletic and a fairly large guy. Caleb also intercepted any guy who tried making a move on you. At one point, you had a sweet guy start to show a liking towards you. You expressed your disappointment to Caleb when this guy suddenly avoided you after his feelings were admitted to you. Caleb would just shrug his shoulders and say, "his loss, pipsqueak." Meanwhile, he'd secretly be proud of himself for scaring the poor guy off after Caleb posed a light-hearted threat at him. "So, you like her?" The guy would confirm and Caleb would nod thoughtfully before adding, "then you need to stop. She's not for you to have." He'd smile politely but his eyes would be sharp as daggers, "Kay?" The guy would take the hint real fast and run.

As a college student, Caleb has some good friends from the Aerospace Academy. One of the boys would say something about the "pretty girl in Caleb's photos" on his moment posts. Caleb wouldn't respond much to this, though he would say something if they followed your profile. "Don't be weird," he'd warn. When meeting you for the first time, they'd be chivalrous. Afterwards, they would definitely tease Caleb for not letting them have a chance with you. He'd roll his eyes at this but would definitely need to take his frustrations out later, whether it be through working out or diving into his schoolwork to distract himself. It bothers him that others see how precious and pretty you are. On the one hand, it makes him proud to know and be so close to such a beautiful and lovely person. On the other hand, he wished he lived in a world where it was just the two of you so no one else could come in between you. His anxieties would only heighten once he thought about the potential pursuers you had at your own college. His head hurt as much as his heart just thinking about it.

As a colonel, Caleb would have strong jealousy towards the multiple men in your life. When he finds out how close you've grown with Zayne after the explosion, he'd feel regretful. He wanted to be the one to comfort you, especially as he harbored the guilt of causing you such pain from disappearing and having you believe him dead. Once he learns about your partnership with Xavier and how he's neighbors with you, he'd feel annoyed. He wouldn't like how often you'd need to work with Xavier, and now you two could even walk home together or see each other at your own apartment complex whenever? Ugh. Frustrating. Rafayel would get on his nerves as well, making his temper flare up. Why do you even need to be around this famous artist? Especially one with a bounty. He would not like the messages he'd see on your phone from Rafayel. He'd contemplate blocking his number on your phone but didn't have a good enough excuse to... so he simmered with anger silently. Sylus is by far his least favorite person you're associated with, though. Being in cahoots with the leader of Onichynus only spelt out trouble in his mind. He would chastise you on the sort of company you keep. He'd be adamant about knowing your whereabouts and to never go into the N109 Zone without him knowing of your exact location and an itinerary of what you'd be doing and who you'd be seeing. This is only because you refused to have him escort you himself since this was "Hunter business" and you could handle yourself... which he highly doubted, but he knew better than to belittle you now that you were an adult and a capable Deepspace Hunter. At the end of the day, Caleb just wants you safe and the only way he can curb his anxieties is by keeping you under his watch and care as often as possible.

Though the man is endearing, he can be downright suffocating. But why wouldn't you want to drown in all the love and care he showers you under? MC doesn't always realize just how deep his love runs for her.

#to think I'm a sylus girly but the first lads man I write for is caleb #dang #love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #lads #lads caleb

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wzrd-wheezes · 19 hours ago

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Smitten - James Potter x Reader

AN - Here's a little James fluff that I wrote and completely forgot about lol. Enjoy <3.

He’s smitten. Completely and irrevocably captivated. One glance from her and the world shifts on its axis. When she smiles, his imagination soars and his brain is all white doves and champagne toasts.

Her laugh isn’t just a sound. It’s church bells on a spring afternoon. He’s not a religious man, but for her, he’d build a cathedral with his bare hands and worship at her altar forever. A simple curve of her lips and he’s envisioning vows under a canopy of twinkling lights, her name being the only prayer he’ll ever need.

Pathetic. That’s what he tells himself when her hand brushes his. The fleeting touch sparking fireworks he swears other people could see if they looked close enough. In his mind’s eye, he’s already down on one knee, slipping a pretty ring onto her finger. He doesn’t even know her that well yet, but one thing he knows for sure: he’s done for.

This isn’t like anything he’s ever felt. He’s dated before – flirted, kissed, even thought he’d loved once – but none of that prepared him for this. His heart races, his palms sweat, his cheeks flush whenever she’s near.

“Mate, you’ve got it bad.” Sirius drawled, taking a long sip of his beer, “I’ve never seen anyone go full Romeo like this before.”

“Romeo wrote poetry. I’m not writing poetry.” James shot back, leaning against the table.

“Yet.” Sirius quipped, “Give it a week. You’ll be sitting in your room scribbling odes to her in your journal.”

“That’s Moony’s thing, not mine.” James teased, raising his glass in mock toast towards Remus.

Remus raised an unimpressed eyebrow but didn’t miss a beat, sticking two fingers up at James and rolling his eyes, “At least I have the self-respect to not get googly-eyed over someone I’ve spoken to, what? Twice?”

“Three times.” James corrected automatically, only to wince when his friends dissolved into laughter.

“You fall in love quicker than Sirius can down a pint.” Remus quipped, clearly enjoying himself.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Sirius tormented, “or have you not planned it yet? Here, Moony, do you think Prongs is a spring wedding guy, or more of an autumn kind of thing?”

“Spring.” Remus replied dryly, “Flowers blooming. Birds chirping. All very poetic.”

“Obviously, there’ll be doves,” Sirius added, gesturing grandly as if arranging the scene.

“Maybe throw in a harpist for good measure,” Remus suggested, deadpan.

James groaned and dropped his head into his hands, “You two are insufferable-” He froze, mid-protest, his groan dying in his throat as the sound of laughter drifted across the pub. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, but the soft sound hit him square in the chest.

She was here.

Of course she was. The universe had an impeccable sense of irony.

Sirius, ever observant, followed James’s line of sight and grinned like the Cheshire Cat, “Oh, would you look at that.” He said, far too loudly for James’s liking.

“Keep your voice down!” he hissed, “Shit. What’s she doing here?”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a shifty glance with each other and Sirius took a slow sip from his pint, his grin growing more smug by the second.

“You bastards!” James gasped, realisation dawning on him, “You knew she was going to be here! I thought it was weird that you picked this pub and not the Broomsticks!”

Remus snorted, his mouth splitting into a cocky smile as he nodded. Maybe the universe wasn’t cruel, but his friends sure were.

“Guilty as charged.” Remus sniggered.

“Yep.” Sirius replied, popping the ‘p’, “Mary mentioned that they were coming here tonight. Thought you could do with a little push in the right direction.”

“You planned this?” James said incredulously, “You’ve been conspiring behind my back!”

“More like wingmanning really,” Remus shrugged, “You go on about her all the time Prongsy. We were just... facilitating the inevitable.”

“Right, and what was the grand plan?” James pretended to look annoyed but his heart was racing a little, “I’m supposed to just walk up to her now and –what? Spill my heart out?”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “If you want to. Or you could just start with ‘Hello’. You know, like a normal bloke.”

“Or go and buy her a drink.” Remus drained the last drop of his beer and waved the empty glass in James’s face, “It’s your round anyway.” he winked.

James hesitated, glancing across the room to where she stood.

“Fine.” He muttered, raking a hand through his hair, “but if this goes sideways then I’m blaming you.”

Sirius grinned, “Oh, it’ll go brilliantly. Go get her, Romeo.”

Okay, Potter. Play it cool. Don’t trip. Definitely don’t trip.

James’s heart hammered in his chest as he crossed the pub, the hum of chatter and clinking glasses fading into the background. All he could focus on her- and the pounding in his chest. She looked so effortlessly radiant, standing with Mary and Lily, a drink in her hand.

Just say hello. He told himself. It wasn’t hard. Two syllables. Completely manageable.

When her reached their table, she turned, her smile softening when she saw him. “James, hey! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Step one: complete. She remembers your name.

He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting, leaning casually against the table. Or at least, what he hoped looked like casually.

“Hey. Yeah, funny coincidence, huh? Was just on my way to the bar when I saw you guys. Thought I’d come and say hello.”

From across the room, Sirius fake coughed something that sounded suspiciously close to “liar!”. James ignored him, focusing entirely on her. As always.

“Are you out with Sirius and Remus?” Mary asked, smiling at him knowingly.

“Sat planning their next scheme I assume?” Lily grinned.

“Probably.” James tried to slyly wipe his clammy palms on his jeans, “I’ve learned not to ask questions.”

“Smart man.” Y/N smiled softly, “So, are you here to escape them?”

“Something like that.” the tightness in his chest eased a little, “I’m just heading to get a drink. Do you want anything?” he directed the question towards her.

“Oh, I'll come with you.” She said, standing up, “It’s my round anyway.”

He barely managed to keep his face neutral as she fell into step beside him, the warmth of her presence making his brain short circuit.

“So,” she said, glancing at him as they approached the bar, “Did Sirius and Remus drag you here, or was this your idea?”

He hesitated for a second, scared that he’d been caught red handed. He could like, pretend this was all a coincidence, but something about the casual way that she asked made him think that she’s just making conversation. She doesn’t know. She can't know. She has no idea how often she’s occupied his thoughts, how ridiculous he’s been about her.

“They had opinions of the venue,” he settled on, trying to keep his tone light, “Remus often drags us here – cheaper pints and all that.”

She hummed, considering his answer and then picked up the menu, “So, what’s your usual?”

James blinked. “My what?”

“Your usual drink,” she clarified, throwing him a bemused look, “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those blokes who just orders whatever.”

“Absolutely not.” James lied.

Y/N narrowed her eyes playfully, “You so are.”

James shrugged, trying not to look thrown off, “I like to keep things interesting.”

“Yeah?” she said, clearly unconvinced, “So what are you ordering then”?

He opened his mouth to speak before realising that he doesn’t actually care what he drinks. He couldn’t order a beer, could he? That was far too predictable. A cocktail maybe? Then, to his horror, he blurted out, “What are you getting?”

She lifted an amused eyebrow, “What, are you going to copy me?”

“No,” James scoffed, as it that would be ridiculous, “I’m just... curious. Looking for inspiration.”

She pursed her lips a little, scanning the selection of bottles behind the bar, “I was thinking a rum and coke.”

“Excellent choice.” James said, as if he had any thoughts on rum and coke whatsoever.

“That’s what you’re getting, isn’t it?” her lips twitched into a smile.

He gestured vaguely, “I mean, if I happen to want the same thing-”

She laughed, shaking her head as she places their order. James exhales, wondering if this conversation is going as awfully as it feels, but she seems relaxed, like this is normal.

Which for her, it probably is. She doesn’t know.

“You didn’t properly answer my question earlier.” she turned back to him.

“Which one?”

“Why this pub?” she tilted her head, “You guys are always at the Broomsticks.”

Shit. Shit.

“Oh, are you stalking me now?” he teased, “Change of scenery I guess.”

She hummed again, clearly not buying it, but before she can dig deeper, the bartender returns with their drinks.

James latched onto the distraction like a lifeline as he paid.

“Cheers,” he said, lifting his glass.

She clinked her against his, smiling easily, “Cheers, Potter.”

His name sounds too good when she says it.

When he returned to the table, Sirius is grinning like he knows exactly what’s going on.

James pointedly doesn’t look at him.

She doesn’t know.

And maybe, for now, that’s for the best.

“You’re gone, mate.” Sirius smirks.

“Completely gone.” Remus agrees.

“Yeah, I know.”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fic #maruaders #marauders era

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thermodynamic-comedian · 19 hours ago

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god. janus sanders really is a character of all time, just in terms of concept. when you were a little kid, you did something wrong, and you got so scared of getting in trouble that another little guy was born inside you. and he loves you. and he wants you to stay safe. so he tells you to lie now, take care of yourself now, keep yourself safe. but all the other little guys inside you hate him. he's too mean, too selfish. the little guy that was born from your desire to do good and be good hates him the most, because you're a little catholic boy, and lying is bad. and you're a good boy. so everything inside you that isn't good has to be shut away.

he knows he's not wanted. he creates his own place to stay, a hidden corner where he can't hurt you. because all the others say that he'll end up hurting you, and he can see how scared you are of being a liar, so he lets himself be forgotten. hidden away. this is how he shows his love: by hiding himself, and every subsequent unwanted part that grows inside you, from you. if knowing about their existence is too difficult for you, then he'll hide them all. he loves you. you don't even know his name.

he watches you grow, still unaware of his existence. the others make their presence known, felt. you let them take the reigns, most of the time. he sneaks in his own little influence here and there; small, harmless lies, only when necessary, so you won't even notice. and in the meantime, he acts as a herder of sorts for all the other parts of yourself that you've subconsciously cast away. he keeps them in line. he sympathizes with them, yes, he knows what it's like to be unwanted. but letting you see them would hurt you, and he loves you. so he keeps them there, in the shadow, unknown and unseen, just like him.

one of them, one of his little dark, unwanted things, doesn't want to be hated anymore. he wants to make himself known. he wants a seat at the table. and, in an ultimate slap to the face for janus, he gets it. virgil gets everything that janus was denied from the start. acceptance. power. control. his effort is acknowledged, his necessity is embraced. he gets a seat at the table. he doesn't have to hide anymore. and janus can't help but resent him for that. maybe it's a good thing, then, that the hatred is mutual. not even his own cattle, the ones he kept safe, the ones he kept out of thomas' way, can stand his presence. fine. none of it matters. as long as you're safe, it was all worth it. he loves you. you still don't even know his name.

janus was always thomas' protector. even when none of it was ever seen or acknowledged.

i find his mixed motif really interesting too, because before we knew his name, we only knew him as deceit. the snake. the ancient serpent deceiver, the biblical snake of eden. but then we hear his name. janus. ianus bifrons, two-faced janus, god of beginnings, passage, transitions. i think that his name being revealed was very much the start of thomas beginning to see janus for who he actually is, instead of the heavily modified version of him that he's been seeing, courtesy of his catholic upbringing.

#janus herder motif my absolute beloved....#janus sanders #ts sides #tss #sanders sides #sasi #sasi janus #tss janus

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daddyissuesbecauseofhotch · 1 day ago

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Daddy issues || #2

{masterlist}

The second time you meet the mysterious man is during your walk of shame home after spending the night with some guy you met in the club you frequently visited with your friends. The best. Fucking. Time. Stilettos in hand, the skin tight short dress barely covers your ass, your hair's a mess, but at least your boobs are relatively hidden from his view.

Which is good, considering he just came home from a soccer match with his son. The boy doesn’t seem to notice despite being the perfect height to be on eye level with your ass, he just talks about the game, and while his father keeps up the conversation, you don’t miss the way his brown eyes are shamelessly scanning your body.

You want to crawl into a hole and die, but there’s no escape. You sure as hell won’t take the stairs with this terrible hangover, and they won’t either, so in a matter of seconds, the three of you will be in the elevator that’s a little too small for your liking. While you wait, you keep telling yourself that it’s just a few minutes, then you’ll both go to your own homes and hopefully forget about the encounter for good.

“Put this on,” you hear from next to you, and a moment later you see his hoodie in front of you.

Why is he so nice? Why does he have to be insanely handsome, attentive, and nice too? It’s the whole package, the definition of the perfect man. Gulping, you take a better look at the piece of clothing, your brain in overdrive to decide if it would be a good idea to accept his offer. He means well, right? He’s working for the FBI, what are the chances of him being some creep in private?

Hesitantly, you reach for the hoodie and nod to thank him for his kindness, but that’s all, no words leave your throat. You can’t speak, not when he’s looking at you like this, seeming worried with a playful smirk on his lips. The duality of this man is insane. Before you know it, he returns his attention to his son, who seems interested in why he gave his hoodie to a stranger.

You put the piece of clothing on while paying attention to the conversation next to you, and your nose is instantly filled with a comforting scent, a mixture of his cologne and something else, something that must be uniquely him. It’s nice. You could honestly get used to being wrapped in it all the time. But wait. Why are you thinking about this? Are you crazy?

To your surprise, as you finally enter the elevator, he says, “She seems to be cold. And she’s our new neighbor, you just haven’t met her yet.”

“What’s your name? I’m Jack,” the boy introduces himself with a beaming smile.

You return his smile and offer to shake his hand. “Hello Jack,” you begin before telling him your name. “Were you playing soccer on this fine morning?”

He nods several times with a proud grin. “Yes, and we won!”

“Congratulations then,” you tell him with a small laugh.

“Dad’s our coach,” Jack notes casually as he glances up at the man.

So, he’s not only a single father and an FBI agent who travels a lot, he also takes the time to coach his son’s team? Why can’t he make things easy by being some weirdo, or a loser, or anything other than the perfect man? And why, why does he have to be so good looking? Alright, you seriously need a cold shower asap, otherwise you’ll end up lying in bed with your hand between your thighs as you think about him. The unholy thoughts in your head right now are bad enough already.

The elevator stops, the door opens, and the three of you step out without a word. When you come to a halt in front of your door, you reach down to pull the hoodie off in order to give it back, but he gently puts a hand on yours to stop you. “Keep it. It looks better on you anyway,” he points out with a boyish smile.

You hesitate. For one, his touch short-circuited your brain. And two, it’s just… it’s weird and it doesn’t make sense. But, eventually, you gather the strength to open your mouth. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then thank you,” you say with a smile. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Jack. And you…” you begin, turning to the boy's father whose name you still don’t know.

“Aaron,” he introduces himself. “See you later, I guess. And drink a lot of water, it will help.”

All you can do is nod. Every time he opens his mouth, you find something new to like about him.

The pair moves over to the door next to yours, and you can hear Jack as he looks up at his father and goes, “Dad, that’s your favorite hoodie, why did you give it to her?”

Aaron smiles down at him while he turns the key in the lock. “Maybe I’ll have a new favorite soon,” he replies, then opens the door and they disappear inside.

You blow out the air you’ve been holding back, finding it hard to believe. This man will be the death of you one day.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #party girl!reader

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