#don’t be mad at people for putting in effort into things they fucking love

[allthepandasintheworld]

Yknow what this thought is going on main:

People who are pretentious cloud-yelling old men about art book/anthology-style zines are annoying as hell and none of you have ever actually spoken to a single person who participates in and runs them before coming to wildly incorrect conclusions about what we do, how we do it, and why we do it.

No, we are not “exploiting free labor”. It’s about as exploitative as participating in a big bang or prompt week. But with a well-run zine, you can expect a decent tip and free fandom stuff. It’s not about earning money to live. It never is. And if you desperately need the money to live, don’t join a zine. spend your time on things that actually guarantee money. You have fundamentally mistaken passion-driven, fan projects with profit-driven consumer products.

No, we are not “charging too much money”. Do you want us to pay our artists and production partners or not? Do you want us to donate proceeds to charity or not? If we do it for free, are we expected to pull money out of our endless pockets to make the project? Hell, actually, plenty of people DO make full free projects (I literally just ran one, Deadly Alliance is fully free and available for download on itch io). You fundamentally do not understand how money works, bc you cannot have a project that is both free and compensates people appropriately, bc the money has to come from *somewhere*.

No, we cannot print at home. Some of us don’t have printers, for one. Also, we cannot charge enough money to even *hope* to compensate artists fairly for their labor if we attempt to sell a zine printed in black and white on printer paper. And on top of that, even if we did have printers at home, the number of zines that need to be printed is prohibitively high for one individual to undertake (why don’t *you* try printing and binding 100 copies of a 40 page magazine all by yourself? Time is one thing, but you’d have to charge even higher amounts of money to be, you know, *fairly compensated*, since that seems to be a big concern). You are ignoring the fact that we are not trying to emulate your genre of traditional zine-making, and you do not understand the division of labor bc not everything can be done by yourself.

No, we cannot lower our costs. Artists and writers working for less than industry wage or volunteering their time for a charity project is one thing, but we can’t just refuse to pay printers and manufacturers. They did not volunteer to be chosen as our production partners, and they deserve to be compensated at their expected rates. You have fundamentally misunderstood how money works, bc we need to earn money in order to spend it.

If you want to print a zine at home and sell it for $3, please by all means do this. I fully support it and if you tag me in the project and I am interested, I will certainly boost it. You can make zines however you please, that’s the beauty of self publishing. You don’t need to feel beholden to the current (quite high) standards of production quality. But at the same time, you can’t yell at people who put in extra work to create a more polished project. And you certainly can’t accuse us of “exploiting” artists when the amount of work we ask for is functionally the same as any free fandom project. We don’t even ask for copyright use of their works—at *most*, a zine mod might ask for a short exclusivity period (only until the zine is wrapped, which is between 6 months to 1 year) after which you can literally do whatever you want with your piece. No respectable fandom zine will ever ask for copyright use of your piece, and only ask for privacy to maintain *value for the customers*. And any contributor who disagrees with a zine’s policies may withdraw their piece at any time with zero consequences bc no contracts are signed and they are not obligated to stick around if they don’t want to.

And if you are upset that you weren’t invited to a project or that you were rejected from one, just… make it yourself. Zines are self-published by nature. Print it at home. Sell it for $3. I don’t care. That’s the point of zines, you do it yourself bc no one else will.

finally as a footnote, I do agree that modern fandom anthologies should have a unique name to indicate it as a sub genre of zines but atp the term is so ingrained that I don’t think new terms will catch on anytime soon. I personally differentiate them as being traditional zines vs anthology-style zines (or art book zines, for projects with art-only) or just fandom anthologies, but they all still fall under the same broader category of zine aka self published magazine. Just bc someone hired a printer (which btw, a lot of zines go with small business printers, aren’t we all about supporting small businesses?) doesn’t mean their zine is “too professional to be a zine” or don’t belong under the umbrella term.

[agirlwiththoughtsandnegativity]

.

[peachesnbees]

I can’t believe there is a subreddit for this shit…

[xazse]

Hello z! Just wanted to say your writing is so yummy and keeps me and the rest of your followers so full😋 BTW! More puppy girl hybrid?? (P.s this is my first request 🙂‍↕️❤️)

PT 2 OF MY MOST RECENT PUPPYGIRL!HYBRID FIC FOR THOSE WHO ASKED!!

PT1 HERE

Notes: IM SO HAPPY IM UR FIRST REQUESTEE! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!! And I’m super glad you enjoy my writing it really means a lot<33

Warnings: Hybrid!Gojo + fem!reader + PuppyHybrid!Reader + smut + small Drabble + not proofread + brat!reader + little bit of sub!Satoru + nipple!teasing + slight crying + overstimulation + mean!Suguru + exhibition

People who asked to be tagged: @qmsvpx @sugurubabe @shokosbunny @rinsluhvr @fuyuji-ii @mashtura @wisteriaflowersss @kickenkricken @rinsluhvr @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni I hope you guys enjoy!

WolfHybrid!Gojo who really can’t take all the teasing you’ve been putting him through. After the first incident Suguru made it 100 percent clear to you specifically that you are to not touch Satoru like that again, who knows what will happen if he’s not around. He’s not scared Satoru will hurt you but he should be eased into the world of pleasure not immediately made to cum on himself his first day in what is now his home.

Suguru scolds you bad, telling you how disappointed he is, how you know better! He knows how needy hybrids get especially your species but the toys he supplies for you should be more than enough. All you did in retaliation was make it a goal to ruin Satoru… poor thing why is he the victim in all of this? And yet he doesn’t even know.

You ignore Suguru’s rule when it’s just you and Satoru in the house.

You make an effort to rub yourself all over his body while wearing the thinnest layer of clothing, when he’s laying on the couch facing the ceiling you’ll come lifting his shirt up and licking all over his chest, even sucking on his nipples as extra stimulation. You love his reactions, everything makes him fully hard and his loud moans fill the empty living room. He can’t process what to do with this pleasure besides grabbing and fondling his cock until he’s finishing in his pants again.

It doesn’t take long for him to be hard all over again, and for you to repeat the process. If he asks if you can help him feel like that again you’ll force him to rub your ears for a good five minutes.

WolfHybrid!Gojo who gets to feel what it’s like being balls deep in your cunt, when you sink your nice ass to meet his pelvis, the poor wolf is fucking gone, he’s never felt something so tight around his cock, he’s never felt anything around his cock! Your plush walls squeeze him so good that he’s having a hard time forming sentences let alone words, all that’s slipping from his pretty slippery pink lips are moans, moans that emphasize how his balls are tightening and he’s cumming deep inside you.

You’re quick to start bouncing so cutely on him, your floppy ears bouncing along with you. Your toys don’t compare to Satoru’s thick cock, how has a woman never felt something like this? You can feel the twitching of his veins as he gets it up once again. You peek at his face to find the wolfman ruined, drool seeps from the corners of his lips and tears are decorating his lash lines.

When you finally cum, it’s a damn mess, the mixture of you two sit where you meet and seep out. The pleasure in the moment doesn’t have you thinking of what Suguru will do to you, doesn’t matter what he will do to the both of you, all you can think of is grinding down on Satoru’s cock for another orgasm.

Bonus!

Suguru is fucking furious, he was mad the first time but he let it slide since it simple curiosity on both sides. The simple curiosity has gone too far, you don’t fucking listen. Since the moment he had welcomed you into his home a few years back he’s had a hard time getting you to listen to directions.

He doesn’t hear you out when he drags you and Satoru to the bedroom, in fact he tells the both of you to keep going. You find yourselves shy under his eye and insist that you’ve both learned your lesson from his lecture earlier. He wasn’t really lecturing Satoru since he doesn’t know the rules as well as you do but this is a great learning moment.

He ignores you, ignores how you’re using the sweet eyes with him, he’s dead serious.

You’re quick to obey and incite a small kiss with Satoru, that turns into a full on make-out with Suguru watching intently.

The rest of the night is filled with moans and groans of complaints, Suguru had told Satoru to let any lewd feelings he had all on you, Satoru does not hold back at all, he fucks his thick cock into your sensitive walls over and over, the mess from earlier helps as to not hurt you so it’s so easy for him to slide back and forth. Satoru found himself ecstatic at the start but when he finds his cock overstimulated and his balls hurting from the painful pleasure he’s not feeling the same, but he for some reason won’t stop his hips from moving, he loves the feeling of having you cum around him nonstop, he loves Suguru watching him so intently, everything mixed together.

Your clit is so slippery that it’s hard to pinpoint where you should be rubbing, everytime you stop Suguru is quick to snap at you to keep going, this is what you wanted correct? He makes sure to ask that out loud, you’re so fucking adorable with the way you nod in his direction, he knows you have a few more in you.

[jazzyoranges]

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.

[tastesousweet]

Can we get a toxic!babydaddy Matt fic like I’m craving something about my man like it’s been days and I haven’t eaten

⭒ blurb : toxic!bd matt who . . .

toxic!babydaddy matt x poc!reader

warnings: toxic relationship, dad!matt (i understand if u don’t fw it), idk what else :P

mickey speaks: this is kinda different for me so ty for the req!! ik this is just a little headcannon set but i hope you luv this anon 💐

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . brings some girl he’s been “hanging out with” to your daughter’s third birthday party just to piss you off

he’d then get mad when you ignore him and his “friend” the entire party…

he’d come up to you as you watch your daughter play on the decorated playground from afar, “the fuck you bein’ petty for, y/n? i thought we were cool with seeing other people?”

“well i just think it’s rude, you didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone else. i don’t care who she is or what you two do it’s annoying from a planning perspective.”

“that’s my bad… you look good though,” he’d glance around for a second before coming behind you and hooking his arm on your neck.

he’d whisper in your ear while you both stare out at your lively daughter, “can’t believe she’s so big now… lookin’ just like her pretty mama.”

you’d roll your eyes and shoulder matt off of you, “matt, go fuck on the bitch you brought here. and stop saying shit like that to me.”

“jesus- watch your language there’s kids everywhere, y/n.”

you blankly stare at him and his cocky smirk that just aggravates you to pieces, “go awayyy, matt.” you whine out and pinch your eyes with a sigh.

and he laughs because everything’s a fucking joke to him.

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . your friends hate but you will always have a soft spot for, he is your daughter’s father after all

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . sends hundreds of roses to your doorstep for mother’s day

when you text him a picture of the ridiculous bouquets with a “????” he immediately facetimes you, “for the best mama in the whole world. you like ‘em?”

you shake your head and hide a smirk beneath your hand to scold him, “you do too much, matt.”

“uh huh i knew you’d say that…” he’d then ask to see his favorite girl, “now where’s my baby at?”

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can’t mind his business to save his life. he’s always asking you questions about your personal life; and you always shut him down

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can sometimes be a little too desirable when he drops your daughter off at your place (dressed nicely, smelling good, eyes bright yet droopingly eye-fucking you, etc), leading you to invite him in for a glass of wine or two

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . you sometimes find in your bed again when you feel particularly lonely and nostalgic

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . loves the few times he gets to to wake up to his daughter pulling on his hand and you by his side, fast asleep

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . tends to start arguments from the smallest things to get you to talk to him longer than you need to

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . will always put effort into being a great father (which you respect) despite never putting that same effort into your relationship

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . makes sure you’ll never forget he loved you first and is connected to you far deeper than any other man ever could be

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Just a concept, Yandere!Dimensional traveler!Batman X Gn!reader X Platonic!Batfam, also wrote a one shot about this

Synopsis: Batman becomes obsessed with a spouse and kids that he never had.

Pairing: Yandere!Dimensional traveler!Batman X Reader; Batman X Reader; Platonic Batfam X Batparent!Reader; Yandere!Batman X Platonic!Batfam; Batman X Platonic!Batfam

Tw: English is not my first language; mentions of Alfred being dead; I'm quite new on the fandom so there might be some mistakes about facts of the original comics, but this is a fanfic so whatever; this piece is more focused on Bruce and the batfam while still mentioning reader; stalker and delusional Bruce.

Word count: 1,4k

Requested? No.

General masterlist

Yandere!Batman who is very VERY, extremely, lonely, touch starved and grim. He’s also very unlucky apparently.

He never even met Dick. Sure, he heard about what happened to The Flying Graysons, investigated it even, but he's only seem him on pictures, videos or in passing, but he wasn’t there that night, he never talked to him, or maybe he did while stopping him from killing Zuko, either way, never adopted him, our boy went straight to orphanage and was adopted shortly after by a normal and loving family.

Actually this universe’s Bruce never met nor connected with ANY of his children, all he had was Alfred, and yet… Something happened and…

Safe to say it's been long, never ending harsh years.

The only thing this Bruce knows is pain, loneliness and misery. Don’t talk to him about Alfred. Maybe he can't even look at pictures. When he realized he couldn’t remember his voice anymore… He WON’T watch videos or listen to audio of him. Yes, Alfred being gone was one more trauma to the list of traumas he will carry on his tense and burdened shoulders for the rest of his helpless existence.

This Bruce is a loser, closer to madness than any version of Bruce (aside from Batman who laughs). His Gotham is nearing it’s doom. He didn't join the Justice League because of his level of emotional masochism, pride and lack of will to get back on his feet. He is so used to suffering he thinks it's possible to die if he doesn't have such bitter companion. Safe to say, he is depressed. And hyperfocused on saving a city he’s been working in for decades, too blind by his grieving to see that he is not doing the right things. There is no social projects on Wayne Enterprises or Wayne Foundation to help people, he neglected the company decades ago. He is almost becoming Michael Keaton’s Batman in The Flash.

Somehow, one day he is sent to another universe. It can be through some disaster like Crisis in Infinite Earths, or some villain who wanted different variants of heros to fight amongst themselves to death, doesn't really matter here, what’s important is that he (after years of being a hermit on his cave) interacts with people, more specifically, he interacts with himself.

Or definitely a lucky version of himself. Maybe the luckiest. He is jealous.

During the whole event they interact and imagine how he felt when he found out that this other Batman has an Alfred. And he is so successful that he is a billionaire who uses his money to help Gotham get better (or as good as we know Gotham can get). Oh, and he has a spouse. And children. Plural. So many he lost count. And pets. Two dogs, one cat, a cow (?), a turkey (a what now?) and a fREAKING DRAGON BAT (WHAT THA FUCK IS EVEN THAT????!?!?????!).

He is also more put together (looks like he showers and doesn't skip meals). And less temperamental.

Okay…

Bruce is confused. When he comes back to his universe, with a spark of hope in his heart, he does his research. He could start actually making effort on his company and thus helping Gotham, maybe even be good enough as a vigilant that he could join the Justice League and make some friends (even if the other Bruce was just as stoic, he was the only one who could see on his micro expressions while talking about them how fond he was of his colleagues, and how much he thrusts them, even with his trust issues).

He could find those damn kids and adopt them. Find the one who somehow managed to make him open up enough for a relationship.

(He could also just work on his company, philanthropism, do some therapy, make some new organic connections or whatever).

He is VERY disappointed to find out that some of those so called kids and are already adults, have lived their whole lives without him, maybe some have been arrested or even dead, they have their whole lives and families that have NOTHING to do with him. Some don't even exist (the only explanation for not a single clue in months of research). And his partner, Reader, is either living their own life that doesn't allow space for him or also dead. He lost his timing. He is old and lost his timing. He is alone. He shouldn't have hoped so much that he got blind by the improbability of the small chance. The other Batman did mention that his family started growing decades ago.

He just lost another family. This one he never got to have. He wishes he never knew about them.

He hyperfocused on them for months for nothing (hey, It was hard to find info on the ones that don't live a very civilian legal life, like Cassandra, or the ones that never even existed, like Damian, or the ones that are dead — again maybe Cassandra, or perhaps Jason. Maybe Jason joined a gang just for survival or something like that, life on the streets is harsh, and he is not very lucky. And I’m not even being specific on what could have happened to every single one of the batfam. Also Tim is probably a CEO right now). No connection and family will come from all of that. Especially because he is greedy, starved, he doesn't want bits and pieces, he wants it ALL. He wants that other Bruce's life.

Yandere!Batman is born. He drowns and gets drunk on the pit of his own madness and he can’t get out of it. Doesn't want to.

He could… He could get rid of the people on their lives, brainwash them and make them a happy family. They aren’t vigilantes, they don't have his abilities, they don't have his intellect, it won't be hard.

Of course, Batman doesn't kill, but this Batman is looking for a change.

But they aren't what lucky-billionaire-put-together Bruce had.

Don't get me wrong. He is not just petty and jealous, nor resents Bruce for his privileges and better decisions, or whatever.

Okay, maybe a little. Why? Just why ones life was perfect (hello? Didn't you hear the part where he told you his own problems? Not even about the DEAD RESURRECTED CRIME LORD SON?) while the others had to draw the short stick?

But majorly he is just desperate, foaming at the mouth for a happy ending, and projected all of that on that poor random bat.

Now, enough brooding, back to solutions.

He could clone them.

Could work. Not exactly easy but he could just hack onto Luthor archives until he found how he cloned Superman and made that Superboy, Superman, or whatever he goes by now.

Again, not the same as the original ones. The ones he craves. The ones he wants.

Alfred is screaming in his grave about how Bruce, please, needs to realize that no one will fill the expectations he puts on them, not even the “original ones”.

Another hard, but better fitted solution is to… Simply… Find a way to go to that other universe, or one similar enough, stalk and study their whole lives until he can perfectly replicate “lucky” Bruce’s persona, and just… Get rid of him and take his place. Hello Alfred, hello honey, hello kids, daddy’s home.

Looks like he finally got luck on his side, maybe the sun will rise tomorrow.

Yandere!Bruce won't just brush aside that he is rusty and definitely not a better Batman then the other one, but he's got time. He will developt patience. But can he learn enough to trick his perfect vigilant kids though? Is he seriously thinking straight? I mean, the batkids are dope though. They learned from the best. As a proud (wannabe) father he knows they will be better than him one day, perhaps already are.

How much of watching their lives, everything that he craves, can he take until he snaps? How much of watching Bruce's interactions with them can he take? He swears he won't take them for granted when he has them, he will take care of them, protect them, be a family, be happy.

Can he really keep his distance?

Looks like another supervillain just arrived in Gotham for the batfamily to battle against, he is quite persistent though.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[nadvs]

okay so basically i was thinking that rafe and reader just had a kid and rafe has been neglecting them and reader for whatever reason and then topper or anyone comes over and since the kid hasn’t seen rafe in so long they end up calling them dad which rafe hears and gets mad at for a bit and then someone puts him in check and he apologizes to reader and starts putting more effort into the family🩷

🍓anon

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You don’t understand how Rafe can be so heartless.

Whenever your son smiles at you, dimples just like his father’s, you wonder how Rafe doesn’t miss him. How he can drift in and out of your home, hardly ever present.

Your relationship was once so joyful. You ran in the same social circles, eyes on each other at parties, when your mutual friend Topper finally introduced you to each other.

You hit it off and started dating and then, six months into your relationship, your life changed forever when you stood tense in your bathroom, a positive pregnancy test in your hand.

Rafe was shaken at first. He was shaken for a while. It wasn’t until he saw the screen at your first ultrasound that he could fully understand that you were bringing a human being into the world.

And then he settled into the role, feeling genuinely hopeful about the future for the first time in life. He found a beachfront condo for your growing family. He filled it with furniture. He started talking about all the things the three of you could do together.

But as your son grew, the stress got to the both of you, leading you into more and more arguments with each other. Rafe became cold and distant.

You tried to talk sense into him, tell him that if he was falling out of love with you, that was fine, but he had to love your child. Regardless, Rafe kept drifting away from both of you, your once solid family breaking apart and deteriorating.

One afternoon, you text Topper asking if he can buy and drop off diapers. Rafe was supposed to do it but he hasn’t been home in days. You don’t want to bother calling him, knowing he’ll just disappoint you.

When he comes by, you can see it in Topper’s expression that you look just as sad as you feel.

“You okay?” He’s standing outside the door, handing you the box of diapers.

“I’m so tired,” you admit, voice cracking. “He’s barely even home, Top. It’s like he’s checking out.”

Your son waddles towards you, arms spread out. You wipe away your tears and pick him up, forcing a smile for him.

When he looks at Topper and babbles dada, your heart shatters.

“That’s not dada,” you say, kissing your son on the cheek. You look to your friend. “Sorry. I’m kind of a mess right now. Thank you for dropping these off.”

Rafe is at the club, drinking a scotch and gazing out at the golf course, when his phone starts buzzing, Topper’s name on his screen. He answers with a tired drawl.

“Hey, man,” he hears on the other line. “You gotta get your shit together.”

“What?”

“Your girl’s not doing so good. And your kid thought I was his dad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“She asked me to buy diapers,” Topper says. “Shouldn’t you be doing that?”

Rafe can only angrily hang up, his blood running hot. You’re calling other people for help? Really?

He finds your name in his phone and calls you. But you don’t answer.

It’s late when he finally comes home, carrying two big grocery bags.

You just got your son down to sleep and rush to the door, shushing Rafe as he walks in. He’s pissed off that the first thing you do when you see him is shush him.

“What’s all this?” you ask, looking at the full, heavy bags he’s carrying.

“Apparently, you got someone else to bring you diapers,” he says bitterly, “but I got everything else we need.”

“How would you know what we need?” you say tersely.

“Don’t give me shit right now,” Rafe mutters, placing the bags on the kitchen counter. He starts to put things away, loudly opening cupboards and drawers, when you grip his arm.

“You’ll wake him,” you scold. Rafe turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing.

“I did something good,” he says. “Can you show some goddamn appreciation?”

“Am I supposed to thank you for buying us food?” you snap. “It’s your job.”

Rafe hangs his head, sighing deeply as he rests his hands on the hard marble counter. You’re expecting him to keep arguing with you. But his next words come out strained.

“He thought Top was his dad?” he mumbles.

You cross your arms, feeling a sense of vindication.

“Yeah,” you say. “Can you blame him? He’s the only guy he’s seen around here in a long time.”

Rafe cracks his neck, pacing away from you as he breathes deeply, circling back towards you.

“Why’d you call him?” Rafe asks. He hates that another man provided for his family.

“What, and not you? Like you’re so reliable,” you mutter. “Where the hell have you been, Rafe?”

Rafe’s been living in a haze. He can’t forget your last argument when you screamed at him that if he didn’t love you, fine, but he had to love your son.

Fine. You’re fine if he doesn’t love you anymore.

Rafe has never cried in front of you. He always stifled it or left the room whenever he felt the thick threat of tears in his throat. He thought he had to be a man.

But at this point, he’s too weak to put up a front.

When Rafe starts sniffling, your heart drops. You’re in complete shock that he cares enough to cry about this.

You’re speechless. You stand across from him, just as still as you were the day you learned you were pregnant.

“Home,” he replies, voice thin. He’s been staying at the house, ignoring everyone. When he gets stir crazy, he goes to the club. Either way, he’s been a shell of himself, carrying his sorrow wherever he goes.

“This is home,” you say softly. You look down at the floor, your brows pinched. “What happened? We used to be…”

“What? In love?” he mutters.

“Happy.” You meet his glossy eyes. “Now all we do is fight.”

“And whose fucking fault is that?” he mutters. You scoff incredulously.

“It takes two, Rafe,” you snap. “Is that why you bailed? Because things got tough? Your baby needs you.”

“But do you need me?” he says. His words render you speechless. An even harder, colder tension grows between you.

“You said you’d be fine if I didn’t love you anymore,” he says lowly.

“I meant…” You take a deep breath. “Rafe, I’m… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t love me anymore,” he mutters. “You’ll leave. I’ll barely see him. What’s the point in delaying it?”

Your head is muddled. Normally, you’d put your hand on his when he spins out like this. Talk him down. But he has hurt you so much lately that touching him would feel unnatural.

“I’d never keep your son away from you,” you say.

“But you would break up me,” he says. You’re so angry at him that giving him any sort of reassurance feels like a betrayal to your pain. He doesn’t deserve the consoling.

But then you notice a tear roll down his cheek and your heart softens.

“Is that why you’ve been like this?” you ask.

Over the past few weeks, Rafe realized he was always scared of being abandoned. Under thick layers of anger and disdain, he fears inadequacy. And why not leave before he’s left?

He stares at you in silence, as if saying his fears out loud will make them come true.

“It’s not on me. You stopped loving me a long time ago,” you say, allowing him to see a crack in your armor.

“I never…” he begins resolutely. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

“And this is how you treat somebody you love? By giving up?” you say. “I’ve been doing everything alone. Do you have any idea how exhausted I am?”

Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose, the guilt he’s been repressing flooding him all at once. He knows he’s failing you. Failing your family.

He won’t say anything else. He can’t.

“If you’re sleeping here tonight, you can take the couch,” you say, pacing out of the kitchen. “I don’t want to even lie next to you.”

Rafe doesn’t give into the impulse to leave, even though his fears and anxieties are screaming at him to. He settles onto the couch. It takes him an hour to fall asleep.

When you wake up to your son’s crying from the nursery at dawn, you hear Rafe’s soft, tired voice consoling him. You drift back off into sleep, sure he’ll call you for help within minutes.

When consciousness slowly pulls you out of your slumber, you can tell by the brightness in your room that it’s well past sunrise. When you check your phone, you’re shocked to see that you slept until noon.

You head downstairs, your chest tightening when you see Rafe playing with your son, his smile bright.

Rafe’s blue eyes meet yours. He gave you the gift of rest, something you’ve been dying for.

“I’m not giving up,” Rafe says. “If you break up with me, I want to know that at least, I… I tried my hardest.”

“If you try your hardest, I won’t break up with you,” you tell him, still harboring hostility.

Instead of arguing with you, Rafe simply nods. You’re shocked he doesn’t have a nasty retort.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, planting a kiss on your son’s head, earning giggles from him. “Both of you.”

His tone and gaze are so sincere that you almost believe him. It’ll take a while for you to trust him again, but he’ll wait it out as long as he needs to.

[ciderjacks]

Like I’m sorry I just really can’t get over how many of you said outright that you didn’t consider their art and effort worth anything, that you preferred when they didn’t have creative freedom due to financial strain, that their employees are “unnecessary”. What the hell?

Ykwat I hope that watcher succeeds and does better than they’ve ever done before and never associates with their fanbase again. And tells all of you to fuck yourselves. And cancels their lives and doesn’t refund anyone. Yall suck. The way you people are acting is some shit beyond shameful.

[flowery-mess]

Midnights of October🍁🧡🎃

October 24th

Friends with benefits with cop!Noah

summary: you and cop!Noah are friends with benefits, he sees you in his uniform at a halloween party and takes you back to his place

warnings: friends with benefits, smut; oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (use protection irl), mention of handcuffs

words: 2.1k

author's note: this is literally copy and paste from my Ryan Tanner fic, which didn't get much love, because the fandom isn't popular on here, so I decided to slightly edit it and post it with Noah, because I like it. There's not really much about the actual job of police officer, but I'm open to write more for it if you want, let me know😊

taglist: @concreteangel92 @sorrowsofsilence @lma1986 @stardustsirenmelody @dream-machine-love @mrsnoahsebastian (let me know if you want to be tagged or deleted!😊)

Midnights of October masterlist

*

"What the fuck is she wearing?" Noah said with wide eyes when he saw you enter the bar.

31st October, Halloween party at your local bar, location you were both currently at.

You and Noah have been seeing each other since you moved to LA, which was 4 months ago. He needed to get over his ex, you over your ex. You introduced him to the phrase the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. And that's exactly what you two did that night. That's also how you ended up getting under each other regularly and became what someone could call friends with benefits.

Noah is hot decent guy, and good in bed. You always end up at one of your places, have sex, eat food, talk and then one of you leaves. That somehow became an unspoken rule between the two of you, you don't cuddle, and you don’t spend the rest of the night together.

You never said it out loud, but sometimes you imagined what being more serious with Noah would be. He's nice, treats you right, cooks for you, treats other people right, he's a cop who protects people from the bad. He's an ideal guy for a relationship. But Noah never mentioned something like that, so you didn't either. You didn't have feelings for him, but you knew you liked spending time with him.

You knew he would be at this party, so you decided to be a little tease to spice things up tonight, because you knew you two would leave the bar together either way.

Last night Noah was on call and ended up leaving for work when you were at his place, but you left before he came back. You knew for a while that you're costume this year will be a cop, just to see if it does something to Noah. So you took the chance when you saw his spare work belt lying over the kitchen chair. You took things that would get you in trouble out of it. You also took one of Noah’s work shirts in the color blue and left.

Noah took few long steps in your direction and repeated his question, this time directly to you. "What the fuck are you wearing Y/N?"

"Hi there Noah." you smiled teasingly at him and put hands over your his belt.

Noah didn't put much effort in his costume, he was wearing coat with a hat, looking like he fell out of Peaky Blinders episode.

"We're leaving, now." he said through gritted teeth and took you by the elbow, dragging you through the crowd towards the door.

"We're talking about this when we get home, I can't talk right now, because I'm mad at you, you can't even imagine." home, that was all you heard, he said home. He was mad, but he also said home. And it didn't really mean anything because he was going home literally, but it made your heart flutter a bit.

When you two entered his home, he turned around and backed you until your back touched the front door.

"What the hell were you thinking? Stealing from a cop? Part of his uniform?"

You unclipped the belt and handed it to him, then you started unbuttoning his shirt.

"What are you doing?" he asked confused, anger still visible in his eyes.

"It's not stealing if you return it. Here." you put his shirt over the belt in his hands.

"You took my work shirt too?" he looked like he will jump out of his skin any second.

He was so mad that it took him few seconds to see what you were wearing under his shirt, black laced bra. When he connected his gaze with your chest, the anger in his eyes seemed to go away.

"You can write me up, officer Sebastian." you never role played with him and weren't planning on it tonight, you just teased him a bit more.

"Y/N I'm serious, you can't do that. It's dangerous." Noah said, more calm every second. You were too hot for him to be angry, standing in front of him like that.

"Okay, I'm sorry." you placed your hands on his shoulders, took off his coat and then pulled him closer to you.

You couldn't stop staring in each other’s eyes, in silence. He lowered his face to touch your forehead with his, while his nose was stroking yours, gently. He was always gentle with you.

"Kiss me." you whispered. And he did, because you were his soft spot and he'd do anything you asked for.

Slow little kisses turned into passionate kisses in a few seconds, as Noah’s hands were exploring your body as if it was the first time he was touching you.

He lowered his hands under your ass and picked you up, carrying you in the direction of his bedroom. You gently started undoing the buttons on his shirt, taking it off of his shoulders once you managed to open all of them.

Noah put you gently on his bed, his lips never leaving yours, while he hovered over you.

"Noah" you moaned his name as his fingers started moving from your chest to the band of your shorts.

"Mhm." Noah gave you his answer with lips on your neck, sucking at your sensitive skin.

He continued to move his fingers over the band of your shorts, putting them just a bit inside of the band for a few seconds, then pulling them out and moving them over the lace on your bra, teasing your nipples. Teasing. Punishing. For stealing his things.

"Noah, please."

"Please what, huh?" he lifted his face from your neck, with a smirk on his face.

"Stop teasing Noah, I said I'm sorry."

He took advantage of you lifting your hips, which was movement out of pure need for more fraction, and pulled your shorts down. And another second his lips were back on yours and his hand made its way back to your lower tummy, slowly dragging his fingers closer to where you wanted him the most.

He started rubbing your clit over the fabric and put his lips on your left nipple.

"Fuck." you moaned, he always knew how and where to touch you.

When his hand left your core your hips tried to follow his movement. But his hand was already on it's way to remove your bra.

"Hate to say it, but you looked hot as a cop." he threw your lacy bra away and put his fingers in use with your panties.

"You look hot as a cop all the time." you returned the compliment.

He used the hand in your panties to get rid of them and then he placed himself between your legs. He thrives from giving, he’s that good of a guy, so even though he was mad at you earlier, he wanted to pleasure you first. He continued kissing you for few more seconds, then he gently bit at your jaw before he made his way down your body. He hooked your legs over his shoulders while kissing the inside of your thigs. He looked up at you an met caught you watching him.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, I just like looking at you." you whispered. And it was true, you liked looking at him a little too much than you should.

He continued kissing your thigh until his mouth met your core and your head fell back on the pillow.

Noah’s tongue kept circling around your clit while his hand held your hips down. You put your hand over his and couldn't stop the sounds that were leaving your mouth.

He did few licks from your hole back to your clit, he knew your weakness. He eased the pressure on your tummy with slightly lifting his hand as he flattened his tongue and let you move your hips the way you needed against his tongue. When he heard your breathing quicken, he held your hips still again and worked his tongue over your folds and swollen clit, collecting your juices while the feeling inside you was growing. When your orgasm took over you, your legs squeezed Noah’s head to make sure he doesn’t pull away too soon. You heard him chuckle against you, sending wave through your overstimulated body.

He kissed his way back to your mouth, where you could taste yourself. It was your turn to flatten your tongue as you held his head still and licked his mouth and chin clean.

"That was hot." he said barely above whisper.

"My turn." you said and tried to push him under you, but he sat on his knees and started unzip his jeans while muttering something that sounded like 'next time'. Before you could find out what Noah said he was already lining his hard dick at your entrance.

He slid his dick through your folds few times to collect your wetness and looked in your eyes, searching for confirmation which you gave him with taking his jaw in your hands and connecting your lips with his.

"Fuck baby." Noah let out in a pleasure after he slowly slid into you, lowering himself to his elbows to be close to you. He grabbed you by your chin and connected your lips for a hundredth time this night. He said baby, he said home. There probably wasn't any deeper meaning behind it, but he rarely used pet names for you.

His deep growl snaped you out of your thoughts. Noah’s head was in the crook of your neck, this position allowed you both moan straight into each other’s ears.

"Noah." you moaned his name once more as you felt the tension in your body to grow again. He set the pace as he continued to move his dick in and out of you. It felt different tonight, but you didn’t know if it was just for you, or if Noah felt it too. Sex with Noah was always intimate, but tonight felt even more.

Noah put his hand between your bodies to play with your clit, which wasn't really needed after he hit the right spot inside you that made your walls pulse around him. "I'm going to cum."

"Yeah baby, let go. Cum for me." and that was the last snap. You did come under Noah, tugging at his hair while being moaning mess.

Noah kept thrusting inside you, riding you through your high as he was still chasing his own.

"Y/N, fuck!" was the last thing you heard before he came too.

He collapsed on your chest, his head still in the crook of your neck.

“If you steal my things again, I’m putting you in handcuffs.” Noah said.

“Well, that sounds really terrifying.” You said with visible irony in your voice and made Noah laugh.

Your chests kept moving up and down, enjoying the moment in silence.

"Be mine." Noah said into your skin.

"What?" you tensed a bit, not sure what he meant.

"I don't want you to leave each time after we have sex, I don't want to pretend we're not close when we're in public. I don't want you to steal my clothes, I want you to wear it whenever you want. Be mine, please." Noah raised his head from your neck after he was finished to look into your eyes. “You don’t have to answer right now, or we don’t have to make it official right this second. But I want everyone to know we’re seeing each other, I want you Y/N.”

You slid your fingers through Noah’s hair, pushing them out of his eyes that were looking at you with so much hope. Then gently slid your hand to caress his cheek.

"Are you asking me all of this while your dick is still inside me?" was the only answer you could get out. You both started laughing, Noah got up to throw away the condom, then he put the covers over both of you and you laid on his chest.

"So, what do you say?" Noah started playing with your hair, you could sense he was nervous.

"I'm saying let's give it a chance then." you tried to hide your smile with putting your head under his neck, but he cupped your cheeks and made you look him in the eye.

"Really?"

"Really." that was all he needed to know, he kissed your forehead, then your cheeks, your chin, then finally your lips.

"We're going on a date tomorrow then. And you're staying tonight." Noah said between kisses.

For the first time ever you two took shower together, Noah gave you his t-shirt to sleep in. You fell asleep cuddled together, but you still heard Noah say "But don't steal my uniform again please." before he planted last kiss in your hair.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: I'm so tireddddd

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The keypad beeps and Lloyd quickly flicks the handle, kicking open the door so it hits something solid. You hear a grunt as the man on the other side stumbles back. It all happens so fast you don't get a glimpse of the code. Not much use if they lock you inside.

“What the fuck?” Ransom grabs the door and swings it open, “she got away–”

“Right here, peachy keen,” Lloyd sneers as pressure pinpoints on either side of your neck. You whine and try to loosen his hand, “she got you good, huh?”

“She’s sneaky,” Ransom mutters, “whatever. She can’t get out.”

“But she locked you in,” he snorts.

A growl ripples through the air. You’re turned back to face Ernie as he stands at the end of the hall. His head goes low as his jowls bunch up and he bares his teeth. He snarls as he slowly walks closer.

“Oh fuck,” Ransom puts the door between him and the hall, peeking around it.

“This fucking thing,” the other man utters, “tell it to stop.”

“Ah, ah,” you squeak as Ernie gets closer. “I– you’re hurting me. It’s making him mad.”

“I’m about to hurt him,” Lloyd threatens.

“Ernie,” you yipe and put a hand out, “Ern, please, I’m–” you choke, “okay.”

His thunderous warning grows louder. You reach with your fingers and he touches them with his nose. You caress the rough ridge and hush him, “please, sit. Please.”

His teeth gleam dangerously but he puts his rear down and hides his canines again. His chagrin nestles just above his usually doleful eyes and he looks between the two men; the one hiding behind the door and the one latched onto you.

“We need a fucking cage for that thing,” Ransom comments.

“And here I was thinking we need one for the girl,” Lloyd scoffs.

“Or you know, you could let us both go,” you suggest, writhing on your toes.

“Smart,” Lloyd sneers. “I can’t wait to train that mouth.” You turn your head and show your teeth, snapping them shut. His brows arch at the gesture and he gives an emphatic shiver, “I’m starting to like the feisty thing.”

“You’ve never been picky,” Ransom lets the door fall open, “get her in here.”

“Here,” Lloyd spins and flings you at the other man, “I’ll keep watch, make sure you don’t get locked in again.”

“Shut up,” Ransom grabs your arm and drags you away. He shoves you so you hit the foot of the bed. “Listen, you little bitch,” he keeps his voice low, “don’t fucking embarrass me again, got it?”

You flip your head back and gape at him. What are you supposed to do?

“And dont give me that fucking look,” he points in your face.

Or what? You swallow the words and stand straight. You face him and shrug. He’s not half as scary as the man outside the door, but both together are insurmountable.

You try to wipe away your irritation. You want this night to end. You want to go home. You don’t know how much more you can handle as your anger gives way to something more potent. Fear.

He slowly turns to the open wardrobe, peeking back at you as you cross your arms. You nibble your lip and avert your eyes. Your adrenaline dissolves and fatigue tugs at your muscles. You’re not giving up, you’re only biding your time. It might just take a little longer than you like.

“This,” Ransom tosses a furry white sweater on the bed, “this.”

You consider the outfit. The sweater is cropped and there’s a gold sequin heart on the front. The skirt is almost as short with ruffled tiers. It’s not really your taste but it hardly matters.

He slams the doors of the wardrobe and tosses down a pair of sheer stockings with ribbons wove through the top. These are just a few pieces of a full collection. How long have they been planning this? Had they followed you long or were you just in the wrong place at the wrong time?

You lift your eyes as he stares at you. You frown. He lowers his chin, “well?”

“Well, uh, can I get some privacy?”

He blinks slowly.

“Come on, pussy cat, show us some peach,” Lloyd taunts from the doorway as he peers through.

You gulp. This is getting too real. The only thing keeping you from full panic is the fact of your futility. Freaking out would only play into their game.

“Right, I get it,” you turn to the bed, “you can’t trust me. I ran. I ran and I got pretty far. So I don’t blame you for being paranoid.”

“Paranoid?” Ransom scoffs.

“You didn’t get that far,” Lloyd intones.

You ignore him and pull the clothes to the end of the bed. You put your back to Lloyd but can’t avoid Ransom. You look down at your jacket and slowly unzip it. Your scalp is itchy with sweat as you let the heat out from under the downy layer.

You drop your coat on the bed and bend to unlace your boots. You focus on the little things first. Boots, socks, your favourite red sweater with the white hearts. You lay each piece down deliberately, closer and closer to the inevitable.

You peel off the camisole you wore under the wool layer and take the furry sweater from the bed. There’s clucking from the door. You stiffen and clutch the fluffy fabric.

“Everything,” Lloyd orders. 

You put the sweater back down and shudder. You hear Ransom’s breath catch as you reach behind you to unhook your bra. His eyes bore into you as the floor creaks. You sense the other man breaks the threshold.

“Little help?” The call from down the hall makes you flinch and a hum escapes Ransom. You look at him as his eyes linger on your chest.

“Shit,” Lloyd huffs, “don’t tell him.”

He leaves you alone with the other man. You take a breath and let your bra fall down your arms. You quickly swipe up the furry sweater and pull it on, but not without causing your tits to jiggle one last time.

“Those almost make it worth it,” he snickers.

You undo your pants as you keep to task. It’s so surreal but undeniable. It’s entirely clear what this is. Their intent is written in every glance, every comment. You roll down your jeans and stand in your undies and the fluffy sweater. Your thumbs hook in the elastic of your underwear as you pivot, trying to hide yourself as best you can as you strip the cotton away.

You just as swiftly step into the skirt, pulling it up to cling snugly around your waist. Ransom gets closer, petting the sleeve of your sweater as he does. His breath grits in his throat.

“Wanna close that door again,” he purrs.

You take the stockings, ignoring the proposition. Shit. You bend and roll the first one up to your thigh, the lace speckled with the little hearts. You slip on the other and stand straight.

He looms over you and shifts slowly towards you. His sole drags on the floor. He’s stopped only by a low drone from the doorway.

Ernie stands watching, glaring at that man. Your heart leaps and you do too. You flit forward to the dog and rub his ears.

“Shh, boy, it’s okay,” you glance back at Ransom, “I won’t let him hurt you.”

His eyes narrow. His shoulders drop slightly, the disappointment of your evasion clear. The close call sears down your back.

He trails you down the hall as Ernie walks beside you. You keep your hand in his fur, clinging to him for strength. It’s not about you, it’s about keeping him safe. 

You enter the front room and find Lloyd scowling at a string of lights as Andy kneels in front of a box. It’s a weird scene to come upon. These two villains in such a wholesome position. Their sinister intentions could almost be mistaken.

Andy looks up and pauses as he holds a large red ornament. His lips part as he sees you. Fire blazes across your cheeks at the way his eyes dilate. He clears his throat and holds up the oblong decoration.

“You gonna come help, honey?”

You nod and let go of Ernie. He stays at your heels as you go to the other side of the box. You bend your knees and reach in, plucking out a clear ball with fake snow inside. You feel the eyes on you, waiting for a hint of something more.

Ernie paces behind you, a wall of fur roving back and forth. You want him to calm down, his energy fueling your own. You pause and turn to pet his broad back.

“Ern, it’s okay, boy, relax,” you twine your fingers into the thick strands and scratch him, “lay down… please.”

You nudge him slightly. He resists. His head moves from side to side as he looks at each man. He huffs and flops down, thumping onto the floor beside you.

“That’s cute. He takes care of you,” Andy says, “sweet girl like you, who wouldn’t?”

You make yourself smile. It’s not very difficult. You have extensive training in faking it. You step around the box and take the ornament to the tree. Lloyd is there, trying to wrap lights around the branches. He sidles closer as you reach to hang the decoration.

“Little higher,” he leans back, looking behind you. You don’t know why you listen but you do. 

You stand on your toes and hook the ball over the upper tier. You feel cool air tickle the bottom of your ass, you’re not the only one to notice. Lloyd groans, Ransom chokes, and Andy exhales sharply. You feel like you’re on display, the tree is just secondary.

You put your arms down and tug at the sides of the skirt, cautiously going back to the box. You reach down, bending in your legs not your waist. Your eyes meet Andy’s as you reach for another ornament. His lashes flick hotly.

“Did I tell you how good you look, honey?” He growls.

Lloyd chuckles and Ransom joins in. You’re not sure what’s so funny or how to react. You look around and toy with the decoration in your hand. You stand on the sides of your feet, swaying nervously.

“Lawyers, man. They’ll never say what they want outright,” Lloyd remarks.

“Shut up,” Andy hisses, “I’m being nice.”

“You’re being a fucking simp,” Ransom sniffs.

“Don’t listen to them,” he says to you directly, “I mean it, you look really… pretty.”

“Well, every time she moves, her ass falls out, so I’d say she’s not too bad on the eyes,” Lloyd chortles. “How do you think she is on the dick? That sweater looks soft, let her keep it on, maybe put her in my lap–”

“Hey,” Andy tosses an ornament at him as you back away, mortified. “Don’t be disgusting.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want to get disgusting all over her. What’sa matter? The wife doesn’t put it in her mouth anymore and you can’t get past half-chub–”

“You’re both fucking pathetic,” Ransom comes forward to reach into the box, retracting as Ernie pops his head up and growls. You quiet the dog as the man drops several ornaments onto the floor in his fright.

“Pot, kettle, black as our souls,” Lloyd says.

“Let’s get the tree decorated,” Andy insists, “it’ll be Christmas soon enough…” he plants his foot, straining as he stands, “we’ve wasted enough time.”

He rounds the box, brushing by you. You don’t fail to noise how his fingertips tickle your upper thigh, along with the other men’s gazes as they note the same thing. You turn to trail after Andy and hang your decoration next to his. Another cool flow wafts up your skirt, eliciting another communal hum from the other men.

“Who’s gonna trim my tree?” Lloyd jokes crudely.

He gets only a growl from Andy as you refuse to acknowledge the comment. Ransom hovers at the edge of the room as Ernie stares him down. The large dog doesn’t get up but remains alert. You feel awful to bring him into this. He must be so confused, even more than you are.

🎀

Once the tree is decorated, your energy is completely spent. Your vigilance drains away what’s left and you lower yourself to the floor to sit with Ernie. He lets you lean on him and puts his head on your knee.

“Tired?” Andy asks.

You can only nod.

It’s a strange, almost numb hollowness. That sort of surrender that comes with just not having anything left in you. There’s that voice that tells you not to give up but it can’t drown out the blaring fatigue.

“You should lay down,” he suggests.

“With who?” Lloyd asks as he stretches his neck side to side.

“That’s not the deal,” Andy girds.

“Fucking chill. I’m kidding. Don’t worry,” he shows his palms, “I won’t open my Christmas present early.”

“Can I?” You ask as you drag a hand down Ernie’s side.

“Yeah, come on,” Andy offers his hand.

You should refuse. You should get up on your own but you’re not sure you even can. Before you can reach for the helpful hand, you’re scooped up from behind. You yelp and Ernie barks as he jumps to his feet.

“Woah, woah,” Lloyd dodges him as he holds you in his arms, “tell the mutt to cool it. I’m helping.”

“Ernie,” you eke out, hanging a hand down for him.

“Oh, pussy cat, you’re gettin’ sleepy,” he teases as he carries you past Andy, a defiant look shot in his direction, “let daddy put you to bed.”

Andy follows, Ernie too. Ransom keeps a cautious eye on the latter.

You don’t protest as you’re carried down the hall. He turns into the bedroom and takes you to the bed. As he puts you down, his hand shamelessly stops on your ass and spreads wide.

“Oops,” he feigns embarrassment, “must’ve slipped.”

“Hey,” Andy charges in and rips his arm back, “enough. She needs to sleep.”

“Look, she can sleep and I can do my thing. Multitasking–”

“We agreed–”

“Actually, you just talk at us and assume we do,” Lloyd counters sourly.

“I’m tired,” you mope.

“Yeah, well, who’s fault is that?” Lloyd snaps.

You frown and roll your eyes. You look past him as you pet the bed. Ernie bounds over and hops up, nearly knocking over Lloyd as he leaps onto the bed. He lays down beside you, his fluffy tail stretching past the end. You lay back and pet his head.

“Come on,” Andy inserts himself between the other man and the bed, “we all do our part, we all follow the plan.”

There’s silence. You peek over at the men as they stare each other down. You don’t say a word as you hug Ernie’s large head.

“I had a better one,” Lloyd hisses.

“We agreed,” Andy repeats. “We let her sleep. It’s her first night.”A sigh. Lloyd backs up and Andy looks over his shoulder at you. He gives a small smile and you nestle down into the bed. You close your eyes as your heart pounds in your ribcage. First night? Of how many?

[serqphites]

YELLOW JACKETS HEADCANONS | them being jealous

summary: they notice you getting a little too close to another one of the girls, this is how i think they would react to the feelings and emotions that would tag along with it

pairings: nat, misty, taissa, shauna, vanessa, lottie x afab wlw reader

format: headcanons

warning: jealousy, swearing?, suggestive ig

lowercase intended! not proofread! y/n used!

natalie

- stops speaking to you

- starts going hunting without you

- when you would hunt together she’d ignore you

- gets mad if you talk abt whoever she’s jealous over

- you’ll eventually ask her while you’re out why she’s being so weird with you

- she shouts at you

- you shout back

- “what so you’re mad you’re not the only person i talk to???”

- “no i’m mad because i’m not your fucking person!”

- your argument turns into a love confession on her part

- she starts crying

- she gets really embarrassed and runs back to the cabin

misty

- would be BEYOND upset

- she’d think that she had done something wrong

- overthinking it way too much

- was she not good enough for you? even after everything she’s done for you?

- would go a little crazy ngl

- she would confront them and basically interrogate them

- would ask things like “what are your intentions with them?” and stuff like that

- coincidentally after that she wouldn’t see them near you anymore

- i’m fact they’d always make sure they are as far away as possible from either of you

- you literally have no idea what happened you just assumed you two just drifted

- yayyy misty wins again!!

taissa

- she’s been watching you from afar ever since you joined the team

- she’s scared to be openly gay, would people resent her? would they even care the she likes women?

- she’s actually been making an effort to talk to you as much as she can

- whenever shauna was the one giving out the cards for the chores that day she’d beg her to make sure she saved her the closest one to you

- however when you start spending a lot of your time with van, everything changes

- van is openly gay, just like you are

- is it offensive of her to assume you’re dating just because you’re both gay?

- whenever she would speak to you she’d ask about van

- “we’re just friends tai, i swear”

- “sure you are” she’d laugh it off as if she wasn’t genuinely trying to figure out what was going on between you two

- one day tai is out getting water and when she turns around to head back you’re just standing there

- you very quickly explain that you have feelings for her and that’s why you’ve been with van so much because you’ve been trying to figure out how to deal with them

- she drops the bucket of water and pulls you in for a quick yet passionate kiss

- “take it you feel the same?”

shauna

- she’d be so jealous

- my god you better watch your back

- she’s so scary

- the glares she’d give you both when you’re talking? lethal.

- the things she’d write about the person she’s jealous over in her journal? vile.

- she would be really quiet and weird around you

- it would make you very uncomfortable

- one day she puts her journal away and doesn’t balance it properly on the wooden beam

- it falls sometime after she’s left the attic and you just so happen to stumble across it while searching for her

- you stare down in shock at the cruel things she’s been writing about someone who was only considered a friend to you

- you are that into the journal that you don’t hear someone coming up the ladder

- shauna sees what you’re doing and charges at you, snatching her journal from your grasp

- she shouts at you for reading her journal

- you honestly don’t really listen, too busy admiring how hot she is when she’s mad

- you eventually can’t hold yourself back and pull her in by her hips as close to you as possible

- you share a lust filled, rough kiss

- god you’ve wanted that for so long

van

- she’s not really a crazily jealous person

- she’s a hell of a lot more chilled out than the rest of the girls

- but when you start ditching sneaking out of the cabin with her to sit and read under the covers with misty? oh boy things change

- she’s never felt like this before, she could feel it in her chest how furious it made her to see you with someone else

- she would make sooo many sarcastic jokes about you both

- “they’re probably off snogging misty somewhere”

- you’d overhear one of her jokes to the girls and actually get pretty upset

- at some point later that night you’d drag her outside to explain the way her comments made you feel to her

- she feels terrible

- it was never her intention to upset you

- she admits her jealously got the better of her

- you have a very heartfelt conversation about the way you’ve both been feeling recently

- obviously a love confession

- let’s just say you walk back into the cabin holding hands, everyone pitching in an “ooo la la” or a whislte

lottie

- we all know my girl got some problems

- lottie is very protective of you

- always wanting you by her side

- so when she starts to notice that instead of attaching to her side, you’re attaching to nats, she goes a little crazy

- she’d honestly say some bullshit about how the wilderness wants you to stay with her at all times

- “lottie, you can’t be serious right now”

- “y/n i can’t ignore my visions”

- “we wouldn’t want to upset the wilderness now, would we?”

- at that you fold and agree to stop spending so much time with nat, even if you know it’s just lottie trying to act like it doesn’t bother her that you’ve been giving someone other than her attention

- nat is just in disbelief that her strategy to get you back worked

a/n: hope you liked this, this is my first ever time writing fanfic so don’t judge pls! lmk what you’d want next :)

[winnienora14]

Okay so there’s been a whole debate going on about how Remus is characterized so here is my take on the matter

I personally hate the whole Casanova of Gryffindor tower thing. Remus is constantly terrified of being found out. He doesn’t want any one paying attention to him so he’s quiet and reserved. He spent his entire childhood locked away (I believe he was homeschooled)because his dad was ashamed of him and his mom was scared for him. Not being accustomed to social interactions at a young age definitely made him extremely socially awkward. So in my opinion, there is just no way he is the smooth flirt some have described him to be.

I also don’t like the super soft Remus. He is angry, ashamed and frustrated. He feels like the whole world is against him. But we still have to balance both out. He does not make scenes to express his anger, he just lets it boil inside.

Honestly if I had to describe him, I’d say he’s kind to those who deserve it (he’s not the kind of person who believes everyone deserves kindness ). His humor is self deprecation, sarcasm and being mean (he’s actually really funny). Humor is kind of an armor for him. It helps him threw hard times.

He is extremely anxious/paranoid. He doesn’t talk much but he’s not extremely quiet. He’s an incredible listener. Since he’s so paranoid, he’s always surveying how people look at him, their behavior... So he’s extremely observant. He knows most things before others do. He’s hard working because his father finds that important and he’s desperate to make him proud. He’s extremely empathetic because that’s a value his mother holds dear.

He doesn’t like school. He’s a queer man in the closet in the 70´s, a halfblood and a werewolf. School is basically hell for him. He gets more than okay grades but he’s not a prodigy and he doesn’t try to be. He only does the work because he doesn’t want to be called out by the teacher for getting a bad grade. Otherwise, he wouldn’t do the work at all. He loves reading because he can relate to certain characters and escape reality.

He has this ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude when he’s talking to strangers his age. If they are older though, he is remarkably polite. He is respectful towards his teachers and or any figure of authority. He doesn’t break rules because he’s scared of being called out by teachers,so he helped the marauders plan the pranks but he wasn’t the one to make them come to life.

He tends to take the easiest course of action even when it’s not necessarily the good one. He’s curious and he loves to learn. He absolutely despises change. He is a control freak but most of all he’s a perfectionist. He always feels like he has to compensate for his lycanthropy by being perfect at everything. He’s an amazing friend: caring and always ready to listen and help.

The best way to make him really really mad is to show him pity. He’s a raging pessimist. He gets angry rather easily and he as trouble controlling that anger. He makes fun of things like influencers and fashion. He refuses to go to the gym, plan his outfits or have a skincare. He never gets into fights because he thinks they’re stupid. He’s uncomfortable in group settings.He is easily annoyed.

This is way too long for no reason but I put too much effort into this to just delete it. So yeah… enjoy I guess.

[cherrybomb107]

Okay, so, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and I think I’m finally able to articulate my feelings about Vi becoming an Enforcer. Stick with me, cause this’ll be a rant, but I promise it’ll all make sense (I hope).

As I’ve said before on here, I feel like the Arcane fandom across different platforms is COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. Here, vs the subreddit is a whole world of a difference. That difference being so large is part of the reason why I feel how I feel about Vi becoming an Enforcer. It’s not so much that I don’t like it(cause it’s not that I don’t like it; I hate it actually. REAL BAD). But, if I tried to talk about WHY it bothers me so much, some dude bro with a superiority complex and 0 class consciousness is gonna be like “Um ackshully, Vi is trying to protect her community. Why are you mad about that but not mad about Jinx being a TERRORIST?! Huh? Huh?” Then I’ll be accused of being a moron who didn’t watch the show . And then if I tried to defend myself I’d get dog piled and downvoted to oblivion.

So, first of all, irdgaf about Jinx being a terrorist. So what? What goes around comes around. When she burns Piltover tf DOWN, Imma sip on an ice cold beverage and watch, cause fuck em. Secondly, I understand WHY Vi is joining the Enforcers. Just like I understand why women can be raging misogynists. And why immigrants become Trump supporters. And why poor people join the military. And why Black people perpetuate respectability politics. I understand why members of marginalized communities join the opposition responsible for their marginalization. I understand that at its core, these people understand, at least on some level, that the powers that be are punishing them for existing as themselves. So, in an effort to take some of the heat off, they’ll internalize the messages they’ve been force fed since forever. They’ll try to change. Try to be “better”.

But see the problem with that is, trying to become “one of the good ones” and “rise above it all” doesn’t work. For the simple fact of no matter how hard you try to assimilate, you’ll never be one of “them”. You can parrot all the talking points, you can change your hair, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you dress etc. But no matter what, you’ll never be accepted wholly. You’ll always be on the outside looking in.

I say that to say, the thing I hate most about Vi becoming an Enforcer is that I’ll have to see a character that I love dearly fall victim to this mindset. In a show full of tragedies, is this not yet another one to add to the list? Piltover took Vi, a scrappy kid from the Lanes, slaughtered her family in front of her, locked her up and threw away the key, and convinced her that the only way to save her sister was to put on a uniform, and enforce the will of the crooked politicians who don’t care about her or her people.

That’s what’s got me somewhat scared for season two. I really hope they frame Vi’s reluctant decision to join the Enforcers as another tragedy in and of itself, instead of just “a necessary evil” or worse “the right thing to do”. Cause it wasn’t the right thing to do. It was just the only thing Vi felt she could’ve done.

[seeingivy]

paris

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

--

“y/n!” 

you turn your head to find mai, as you pinch your lips together and push off the wall to make her accquaintance. you give her the most polite greeting you can, hovering a kiss by her cheek as she nurses her a wine glass in her hands. 

always the drunk. though you suppose it was hard for you to do these things sober too.

“how are you doing? it’s been a while.” she asks. 

“i’m good, how are you?” you ask back. 

"where are you living again now?"

"france."

the two of you lean against the wall, making her best efforts to hide the fact that she's talking to you, as you smile.

the dim light of the crystal chandelier creating a shimmering display upon the great, painted walls. you’ve positioned yourself far away from the classical orchestra, from your parents at the front, and the synthetic sweaty smell permeating the group of people swim around the room, a mix of fancy fabrics and glittering jewelry. 

“i’m good. did you hear about what happened with naoya?” she murmurs, voice low as she hums into your ear. 

you fight the urge to smile. you owe satoru twenty dollars. 

“hm?” 

“do you remember that girl from the kamo clan? the one that you dormed with during the exchange event? who told your parents about you and him?"

"the blonde?" you ask.

"her fucking sister met naoya at a club and he kissed her.” 

you smile, shaking your head as you roll your eyes.

“i’m dead serious. there were pictures and she was wearing this like god awful denim on denim outfit. some zenin clan head he’s going to be when almost everyone knows he can’t help but get his dick wet with every living organism in sight."

you pinch a smile.

"no offense, of course.” 

“none taken.” you respond. 

“did you see the photos of it?” 

“no, no i didn’t. but thanks though.” you respond.

maki shrugs before she’s whisked away, by a girl whose name you can hardly remember as you give the two of them a wave. the girl averts making eye contact with you as maki gives a halfhearted goodbye and you curl back into the wall.

granted, maki’s the only one who would stoop down to your level to talk to you, even if it was just to level you for information. you suppose the details of you living france in france will make their way across the room in two minutes. but you can hardly blame the girl or even possess yourself to be mad about it. 

it’s all she knows how to do. 

you feel two arms wrap around you from behind and look down to find a wine glass being held in front of your nose. you fight the smile making its way to your face as you turn around, to find satoru’s outfit already unkempt - his tie hanging halfway down his shirt, the buttons undone. 

“wow. did you have to put on a lap dance for the sommelier to get these drinks?” 

“but of course! a champagne you requested and a champagne i delivered. by any means possible.” he smirks, before leaning against the wall at your side. 

you take a sip, the overwhelmingly artificial flavor biting your tongue. 

“god.” 

“had a feeling you would say that. so….i snagged this from the kitchen. had to seduce a cook for it.” 

“do you want to have my babies?” 

satoru rolls his eyes as he hands you the bottle. it’s a twelve dollar sauvignon blanc, that you’re almost positive that someone bought from a target. only because you’ve bought one there yourself. 

“bullshit. there’s no way that my parents keep this in their house.” 

“think it’s because they miss you?” he asks, a hopeful smile on his face. 

you smile, as you reach forward and cup the side of his cheek. 

“toru, my love. don’t be silly. you know the only reason that i’m standing in the house i grew up in right now is because i’m your plus one right.” 

he frowns. 

“did you see them yet?” he asks, popping the lid off the bottle as he takes a swig before handing it to you. 

you can see his face nearly curl up in disgust at the drink as you fight the urge to laugh, at satoru and his expensive tastes. in nearly a year of dating, it was your personal joy and mission to curb satoru gojo and his expensive tastes. or at least die trying. 

“no. but they must know i’m here. i’m the talk of the party.” you jest, giving him a smile. 

satoru rolls his eyes, as you focus back on the expansive ballroom in front of you, of your parents glittering smiles at the front. you try your best to hide your disappointment as you focus on the rest of the room of the people begrudgingly dancing - stepping on each other's feet, murmuring niceties - as your parents hover around, their jaws fixed into permanent glittering smiles. 

but you can tell. that something, or more appropriately someone, is sinking under their skin, from the way your moms eye twitches - certainly when someone makes a comment - and your dad swallowing hard every time someone smacks him on the back and whispers in his ear. you almost feel bad. 

“you’re the talk of my party! the party in my pants.” 

you look to your left to find satoru smiling at you, so boyish and excited that you can’t help but laugh. 

“party in your pants?” 

“correct. your blatant disregard for authority makes me horny."

“well, i could tell you that much. otherwise, you wouldn’t be dating me in the first place.” you hum, giving him a bright smile. 

satoru wraps his hands around your cheek, angling your head up as he rubs his thumbs in the softness of your cheeks. his eyes are nearly lidded as he smiles at you, before leaning forward and pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. 

“why are you looking at me like that?” you mumble. 

“is it a crime to look at my girlfriend?” 

“you’re like ogling me…” 

“you’re so pretty you take my breath away.” he responds, giving you a wink and wiggling his eyebrows. 

it’s enough to make your skin heat up. the tenderness of it. of a cheesy joke, told with the sole intention of making you laugh.

“that’s corny, satoru.” you deadpan. 

“you're asking for it.” he jests. 

“asking for what?” you respond, feigning innocence. 

you, were most definitely, asking for it. because almost every time satoru made a corny pass at you, you made it a point to rip his affections to shreds. to which he would early pepper your skin in kisses, wrapping you warm in his embrace until you returned his sentiments. 

and if satoru gojo is one thing, it’s predictable. satoru wraps his hands around your waist, his sweet vanilla smell tickling your nose as he starts mumbling into your ears. 

“why’s my pretty baby always so mean to me, hm? don't you love me?” he mumbles. 

"okay, toru. I love you plenty. and-"

he places his hands around your neck, before pulling your face close to his again.

“i’m not mean either-” you start.

satoru pulls you closer to him, lips warm on yours as he smiles into the kiss. 

“are you insane? there’s people here.” you whisper. 

“so you can kiss me after a total three minutes of knowing me in the middle of an alleyway but you’re morally opposed to me kissing you at a party?” he murmurs.

“first of all, i was drunk. i’d never kiss you if i was sober. second of all, i was-” 

you gasp when he sinks into the skin on your neck, the pressure making your head nearly keel back. 

“satoru.” 

“i’ll take you right here in front of everyone if you keep giving me attitude.” he states. 

you drag your hand into his white hair, before curling the locks in your hand and pulling his head off of you. 

“okay fine. i’m so in love with you that i might stop breathing too. now quit it, your parents are going to see.” 

he gives you a satisfied smile, before leaning his head against yours and wrapping his arm around your waist. the two of you remain that way, curled up in each other’s arms as you finish off the bottle, the warm feeling enveloping your chest with each consecutive sip. 

but it had nothing to do with the drink. and everything to do with satoru. 

you met satoru gojo three years after you made your exile from high society. one forbidden romance with naoya zenin, who was simply not the man you thought he was, ended the life you were leading dead in your tracks. 

bags packed, no questions asked, and one flight voucher. you opened up a map, closed your eyes, and settled in the first place that your finger landed. 

paris. 

and three years later, a very disgruntled satoru gojo made his way to the city, extending his two week long european vacation to a two year long stay when you drunkenly kissed him in an alleyway after confusing him with the guy you were talking to at the bar. 

you suppose it was hopeful thinking. drunk you’s hopeful thinking. that he was the one you were talking to and not whoever it was at the bar, so unmemorable that you can’t even procure the memory. 

and it’s the one time your wish comes true. 

“you think i care if my parents see us together? if anything, i want them to know.” 

you smile, as you reach forward and wrestle his buttons back into place. 

“i care what they think about you.” you murmur. 

“i’d punch my old man if they said anything about you.” 

you shake your head, fixing his collar against his coat.

“hey. i don’t need you to make big, romantic displays of affection for me. romance isn’t dead if we keep our love just ours, you know?” 

and three hours later, with a punch straight to naoya’s nose after one shitty comment and a polite introduction to satoru's parents, he’s dragging you out of the hall as you teeter the line of being blackout drunk, curled up in his arms. the ballroom’s nearly emptied out now, except for a few people lingering in whispered voices at the tables. 

he passes your mother. who grabs him by the shoulder, the touch so firm that it makes him nearly flinch and pull back. he can feel his nostrils nearly flaring when he sees the sight of her, at someone who so callously pushed you out of their life. 

“mr. gojo?” 

“yes?” he seethes. 

she swallows hard, nimbling with her gloved fingers. 

“you-you’ll take care of her? of my sweet girl, right?” she whispers. 

satoru smiles. you owe him twenty dollars.

he looks down at you curled up in his arms, your fist closed fist crumpling the fabric of his collared shirt and your incoherent mumbling. 

“always do.” he mumbles, as she gives him a curt nod as he whisks you down the hallway. 

and nearly halfway home, he can feel your reignited vigor, finally awake after the hour of quiet driving, as you paw at him in the back of the cab, shuffling closer and closer to him in the cramped space. 

“i’m right here, princess.” he murmurs. 

“need to be closer to you…” you slur. 

“you’re sitting on me.” 

“even closer. like inside your head. i want to know everything you're thinking.” you whisper. 

satoru fights the urge to laugh as you take his cheeks into your hands, eyes lidded as you look at him with a droopy smile on your face. he brings his hand up to your cheek, tracing the glittery makeup shimmering on your face as he smiles. 

“currently. i’m trying not to think about you. you’re sitting in a compromising position for me and your smell is nearly intoxicating when you’re this close to me.” 

he can’t help but smile when he watches your eyes go wide. 

“do you think i could brainwash you into loving me forever?” you whisper. 

satoru smiles, hooking his hands under your thighs as he curls you into his chest, your arm tucked into his neck, as he runs his hands through your hair. 

“won’t have to. you’ve got me right where you want me, princess.” 

“do you think i could brainwash me into giving me your credit card?” you mumble. 

“oh?” 

“hey. what happened to me having me right where i wanted you?” you whine. 

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

an: taylor as gojo fills me with more stress than anything i've ever written so i apologize!!! a teeny tiny midnights taylor as gojo as an offering. i've been in a writing rut, especially with this series - and i despise this - but im trying to get back into it!

taglist: @invisible-mori @porridgesblog  @k0z3me  @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai  @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon  @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

lmk if you would like to be on the satoru as taylor swift songs taglist!

[miyamiwu]

I guess a lot of the frustration on the S2E2 animation comes from the fact that we KNOW that 8Bit can do something great. We KNOW that they can deliver when they just try. We’ve seen it before in the first part of season 1. Bachira stealing that ball and jumping on Kira was so fucking fire, it quickly established the show as the next big hype thing.

But what’s happening now is that they only put effort in key matches and half-ass the rest. Before, in S1, I can still excuse this as 8Bit saving the budget on important stuff because the anime was new then. But with the success of S1, the manga shooting up the charts, and the money raked in from merch and from Episode Nagi, this excuse no longer holds.

THEY HAVE ALL THE MONEY TO ANIMATE WELL, BUT THEY JUST DON’T!!!

The 8Bit executives are getting greedy. The studio just released Episode Nagi earlier this year, but instead of giving the animators time to rest and give their all on season 2, they’re rushing them to animate everything.

Fans wouldn’t have minded waiting for another year or two for the second season, considering all the content we just got and how the manga is still ongoing. But for some reason, 8Bit is so adamant on releasing it this year.

Of course, this wouldn’t have been a problem if 8Bit hired more people to cover this, but with what we’ve seen of s2e2, I don’t think they did that. This results in the staff being spread thin and the final quality of the show being inconsistent.

I think it’s only right for us fans to be mad about it. It’s not about being “negative” and “miserable.” Anyone who says so just to promote false positivity are fucking annoying.

THIS IS ABOUT ASKING FOR ACCOUNTABILITY!

We can’t let those damn capitalists get away with just giving us “content” to “consume.”

Animation and storytelling is an art form, and art takes time.

If you really love Blue Lock, then you’d agree with me that...

BLUE LOCK DESERVES BETTER