#honestly i’m still not really sure what started this. like i think i know but do i really???

[razorblade180]

Union

In the midst of going over blueprints for their future home, Jaune’s concentration gets interrupted by flowing petals. He cracks a smile before turning around to see Ruby completely obscured by her cloak.

Jaune:Have you come for my soul?

Ruby:Might as well. Already have your heart.

Jaune:Heh, then I kindly ask for you wait. Your payment will be paid in full down the aisle.

Ruby:How stingy. I’ve already given you both of mine; and a little extra~

Jaune:*red* How was work, you gremlin?

Ruby:Patrol duty was fine. Starting to think crooks know my schedule.

Jaune:Or you threw most in jail.

Ruby:Organized crime calls for chaotic heroism. Anywho, house plans going well?

Jaune:More or less. If all goes well then we’ll be living outside Vacou before our anniversary.

Ruby:Always thinking ahead. Meanwhile I’m struggling with awesome vows.

Jaune:You brought a world together. I’m sure you’ll think of something.

Ruby:Feelings are a little harder than a battle cry or call to arms. Speaking of feelings, I have a little something for you.

Jaune:*looks at cloak* Is that so~

Ruby:*blushes* It’s not what you think! Not this time. This gift is way better!

Jaune:I don’t know Rubes. Last gift that started like this was pretty amazing. *smiles*

Ruby:Just close your eyes and hold your hands out!

The knight chuckles as he does what he’s told. Immediately something weighted and cool to the touch lands in hands. Jaune opens his eyes and stars at a white scabbard. Somehow, this took him by surprise. It had his symbol in the middle and was surrounded by red thorns.

The grip of the hilt was this dark blue with a spiral of fierce red that went up and outlined the golden hand guard that was modeled in the shape of his symbol. He pulled out the gift from the scabbard to reveal cold, shining white steel that had its double edge and tip run red like hilt. If Jaune was being honest, he’s never seen a sword look more like a work of fantasy. Ruby stood right in front of him and put her left hand in the hilt, showing that his symbol had subtle thorn and rose engravings that matched her gold and red on her engagement ring.

The accomplished and proud Huntress then took a step back and started twiddling her thumbs while swaying, finding it hard to meet Jaune’s gaze; so she pulled her hood over her head. At this point it probably matched her face.

Ruby Rose:So uh yeah, that’s a Ruby Rose Original.

Jaune:You made this!?

Ruby:*nods* I’ll be honest. I spent so long shopping for wedding bands with Weiss helping. I’m still definitely getting one! But none of them really… felt like they were saying how I feel. There’s not a moment I want you feel like you’re fighting alone; even when we’re far apart. With this, I’m always by your side ready to help. The scabbard is a shield too but if I’m being honest I’m still a rookie when it comes to that kind of smithing. Consider this my own form of engagement to you.

Jaune:Ruby this is…I don’t even know what to say.

Ruby:*trembly* I uh..it’s fine if you treat this as a ceremonial blade too. After all…there’s history in Crocea Mors and I don’t want to step on that or make you feel like you have to stop wielding it because of m-

Two hands gentle hands pull back her hood and reveal teary, anxious eyes. Honestly, Ruby felt so ridiculous right now. All this effort into a heart felt token of affection and yet anxiety gripped her mind on how he’d take the jester. His thumbs run across her cheeks to catch a few stray tears.

Jaune:Hey, talk to me. What’s with the tears? This is an amazing.

Ruby:I just…Crocea Mors is its own vow. It has been for years and I know I shouldn’t be feeling guilty or nervous but I do. Gods, it’s so dumb hehe. Pyrrha would totally give me an earful for being so-

Jaune:Thoughtful? *smiles*

Ruby:..Heh, yeah. Yeah she would.

Jaune:Well, I don’t know if your beautiful brain and smithing skills have noticed, but you’ve really gotten good at knowing my style.

He briefly lets go of her and grabs his sword along with the new gift. Jaune pulls out both and puts them against one another. Yeah the hilt is different but it’s wide enough to work. Without hesitation, Jaune took the scabbard of Crocea Mors and slid it on the new sword easily; right down to the satisfying click in place that took Ruby by surprise.

Jaune:If you really feel guilty, then I can do this! Not gonna lie, I’d feel like shit getting that scabbard dirty in the future. It’s my first Ruby Rose original! Also gives you time to hyper fixate on shield crafting. As for the blade, I know this bad boy will keep me safe and sou-

Once again, petals flowed. Each one danced around him while the rose itself pressed her lips against his with gratitude and overflowing joy that dispelled fears like magic.

Ruby:Jaune Arc, you truly are my fairytale ending. My happily ever after.

Jaune:Hehe, And you said your vows would be hard? C’mere.

He pulled his loving fiancée into a deeper kiss before matching her smile. She was right. This present was the best.

Jaune:Does this engagement sword have a name?

Ruby:The deepest part of my soul wants to call it Bloody Moon but that doesn’t inspire luck as wedding gift.

Jaune:I kinda like what you said a few moments ago.

Ruby:Oh, so Ever After?

Jaune: Tale’s End

Ruby:That’s so- damn I’m marrying the right person. That’s such I good name! When our house is done I think my first order of business is mounting the scabbard with Crocea Mors somewhere nice and proud. Gonna need your height though.

Jaune:Naturally. And who knows. Maybe it’ll protect the both of us in a new way someday?

xxxxxxx

Several years later

Jaune:Alright squirt, ready for your first real sword sparring!?

A foolish question for a young girl waiting to dives out the front door and slide across a sand dune into a wide battle stance, her grin in full bloom with Crocea Mor ready to aid her first step towards greatness.

Carmine:Born ready!

Ruby:Do your best! Show him who’s boss!

Carmine:Ha! With this by my side, I might as well be invincible.

[sutaagaaru]

STAR BOY— NANAMI KENTO X READER

CHAPTER 02: NANAMI KENTO IS PROFESSIONAL.

౨ৎ synopsis: nanami kento is finally dragged out to a bar by his work colleague, satoru. against his better judgment he ends up drinking, and finds himself spending the night with a pretty girl. he can’t seem to stop thinking about her, or if he’ll ever see her again. turns out she’s closer than he thought….

౨ৎ content: slight flirting in the workplace, nobara is a keyboard warrior, gojo is probably shit stirring somewhere, inaccurate descriptions of the publishing and marketing world, my limited knowledge of good literature will soon become apparent, no really i think tokyo ghoul is the best piece of fiction ever created, do not trust my reading skills

౨ৎ chapter summary: news flash, the handsome man with whom you spent a night with at a bar is now your boss. things take an awkward (?) turn.

previous chapter // next chapter

“nanami?”

well that was certainly an unexpected turn of events. nanami could have laughed if he were the kind of man to do so, but instead he just stared at you in bewilderment. what sort of divine intervention was this?

you weren’t faring any better yourself. the amount of coincidences piling up here could have been written; how is it possible that the man you pulled onto the dance floor is now standing in front of you, as your new boss?

“ahem. good morning. my name is– well, i suppose you know my name, don’t you?” nanami paused to find his words, sitting down on his black leather chair, “before we get settled into your new job, it’s in our best interest to talk about… the night we spent together. we need to be professional.” he finished, not once letting himself make eye contact with you.

professional? you wondered to yourself. how on earth were you supposed to do that?

“you might do this sort of thing often, but i’m not familiar with it. do you want to ignore it and act like it didn’t happen or..” you responded casually. it’s actually quite difficult to act formal with your boss when he had you pressed up against him two days ago.

“i have to admit, i wasn’t expecting you to say it like that.” he chuckled lightly at the implication, letting his eyes meet with yours finally, “perhaps you’re right though… we can ignore it.”

he leaned back in his chair, his eyes studying your relaxed demeanor, “you’re handling this rather well, aren’t you?” he questioned.

“i figured since i know you pretty well enough already, there’s no need to be shy about it. we’re both adults, right?”

there was absolutely need.

you had a knack for hiding emotions, so you did everything in your power to conceal the desire to run out screaming.

“maybe i should have pried a little deeper into your occupation. then i’d have known not to dance with my new manager.”

“ah, well i suppose it was my bad for not introducing myself properly.” he paused, his eyes still fixated on you before speaking again. “do you… regret it?”

“that depends, has my job officially started yet? i have two different answers, and one of them isn’t for my superior.” you genuinely had no idea where you were pulling these responses from. was it possible to still be drunk two days after consumption? maybe you had contracted an airborne virus on the way here, and its indecent side effects were only just surfacing.

amused, nanami glanced at the clock, tapping his fingers against the desk before looking back at you. “no, not yet. you’re not officially on the clock until our talk is finished, so let’s hear this answer.”

“then, no, i don’t. the only regrets i do have for that weekend was having one too many cocktails. you were definitely not one of them.” you answered honestly. this whole conversation was making sure everything was on the table before the situation was resolved, so the truth couldn’t be a bad thing.

nanami wasn’t sure what response he expected to hear, but was glad to hear you at least didn’t regret the weekend entirely.

“so that’s why you came onto me?” he quipped before he stopped himself, quickly shifting back into his professional persona.

he cleared his throat, sitting up straight in his chair before continuing to speak. “i’m glad to hear that there isn’t any grief on your end, then…”

“i wasn’t that drunk, nanami. since this will be our last time discussing this, i may as well be transparent. i did those things because you were interesting, obviously attractive, and i found your blatant lack of respect for your friend gojo quite entertaining.” you explained, and you didn’t seem to notice the way his lips upturned into a slight smile at the praise from you.

wait…

“hold on, you said he was a work colleague. does that mean he’s here too?”

the speed at which nanami’s somewhat neutral face shifted into sheer dread could only be described as phenomenal.

“regretfully, he does work in this building. i can only apologise in advance for what you’ll have to deal with once he realises you are here.” the man in front of you grimaced at the thought.

“surely he can’t be that bad now that he’s sober.” you giggled.

“he was sober the entire night.”

“oh.”

“in any case, you won’t see him often. he works in the design department so we only have occasional meetings with his staff.” nanami informed you.

“right, well, i’m sure i’ll hear him before i see him. from the little i know about gojo, i’d say he’s quite… eccentric.”

“eccentric is a polite way of saying he’s a complete and utter nuisance. regardless, i’m glad we could have this discussion as two professionals. i’m aware you were pleased with your success of being accepted here, and i wouldn’t want either of us to feel any awkwardness moving forward.”

thinking back on when you first met nanami, he had a disheveled look about him. now, as he stood from his chair to extend a hand to you, you finally took in his appearance. his hair was neat and proper, a watch wrapped around his wrist which no doubt cost more than your rent, and a bluish suit that contrasted his stern image and features. you thought he couldn’t have looked more attractive than when you saw him at the bar, but you were proven wrong with ease. even the way he held out his hand for you added to his charm.

you quickly chastised yourself– you’d literally just finished a discussion about being professional in the workplace– and took his hand in yours to shake.

as nanami felt your hand grip his, he was taken back to the memory of doing exactly that at the bar. your hands were still as soft as he remembered, and your firm grip only cemented the idea that you were a strong-willed woman. the darker parts of him supposed that it would be a delight to watch you squirm and fall weak against his embrace–

what has gotten into him?

“so, now we got that out of the way, i’m ready to start working. it’s a pleasure to be working under your department.” you let go of his hand, giving a polite bow.

“yes, i’ll show you to your desk,” nanami strolled over to the door of his office, opening it and gesturing you towards it, “shall we?”

౨ৎ…

not long after you were situated at your desk, you were greeted by multiple of your new colleagues, one of which was the dark haired woman who showed you to nanami’s office.

“you’re settling in well. my name’s shoko, by the way. what do you think of the manager?” shoko asked you.

“well, he seems really nice. friendly, too. i’m excited to work with everyone here.” you answered, deciding it was clearly best not to mention you’d already met him.

“friendly, huh? i’m surprised you said that, most people who are new here are scared of him at first. then they realise he just doesn’t have a lot of facial expressions.”

briefly, you wondered to yourself why he was much more different with you.

“did you meet nanami when you started working here?” you questioned. you could see yourself being friends with shoko, despite the fact she was much more calm, for lack of a better word, than your usual friends.

“no, he actually got me this job a few years back. i’ve known him since we were in high school.”

she must be friends with gojo too, you thought.

“well, i’m swimming in paperwork, so i need to go back to my desk. usually nanami asks someone from our team to help you with training and a tour, so just sit back and wait. unless you want to come for a smoke break with me…?” she raised her eyebrows , and you chuckled.

“i’ll have to pass. thank you anyway!” and with that, shoko retreated to her desk, leaving you alone.

while you waited for your training, you pulled out your phone from your bag so you could send a text.

you: i have news

may potentially need to be seated for this

nobara: i’m sat. tell us. i’m foaming at the mouth

maki: so dramatic

but what is it

you: so remember how this weekend i was talking with that insanely attractive man and i forgot to get his number

maki: you were doing more than talking but yes continue

you: i sort of bumped into him today

nobara: shut up

how

when

where

you: what would you do if i told you that he is my manager at work

maki: ur joking 💀

you: i’m really not

and he said we should be “professional”

nobara: TOO LATE FOR THAT

this is why i choose to stay away from men

maki: i mean he is your manager now

you: yeah and i agreed with him but how am i supposed to do that when all i can think about is how he’s seen the inside of my mouth

maki: okay. didn’t need the visual image of that

nobara: what are you gonna do?

you didn’t have the time to respond as you looked up to see nanami heading for the direction of your desk.

“are you ready for your training and a tour of the department?” the man asked as you placed your phone back into your bag.

“yes, let’s do it.” you answered, standing up and once again noting how much taller he was than you.

as you followed nanami through the office, shoko gave a confused yet amused look to him, though if he saw her face, he did not acknowledge it.

“of course you are permitted to eat at your desk, especially if you become busy during the day, but if you’d like a quiet place to eat during breaks, this is where you can go.” nanami opened the door of what was clearly a break room, with a little kitchen and large tables with enough chairs for plenty of people to sit.

“do you go in there often?” you asked him, making small talk while trying to avoid staring at him for too long.

“rarely. if i do find time to leave my desk, i make a visit to the bakery across the street from our building.”

“i think i walked past that on the way in here! it smelled amazing.” you commented, the savoury scent of freshly baked bread emanating from the bakery made your stomach growl when you had walked by.

“if you ever visit, be sure to try their homemade bread. it’s perhaps the best tasting bread i’ve had.” nanami gave a small smile in your direction and you practically felt your heart pounding. why is it that everything this man did was irresistibly charming?

“follow me, i’ll show you to the print room.”

two hours later, once your tour of the office and basic training was completed, you were walked back to your desk by nanami.

“i hope that you found that to be of help. if you have any questions about anything please let me know, i want to make sure you’re comfortable here.” he spoke politely as he passed you a list of passwords and other information for you to keep.

“of course nanami, i’ll definitely take you up on that if i need anything, thank you so much.” you gave a cheerful smile and he returned it with a nod and a faint upturn of his lips.

naturally your eyes wandered in nanami’s direction as he walked back to his office, and you noticed that your desk gave you a perfect view of him through his window. you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, feeling like a creep for just staring, seeing him organise paperwork.

briefly, nanami looked upwards, directly at you, and you quickly looked down.

“okay, what’s going on with you and nanami?” shoko asked, and you froze.

then she added, “he never does training or anything himself. like i said, he’ll usually get one of us to do it because he’s ’too busy’. did you slip something into his coffee or something?”

you released a breath you forgot you were holding and gave shoko a sheepish laugh, “nothing like that. i guess my charm rubs off on everybody, even nanami.” and you hoped that you played it off well.

nanami kento was torn. he’d returned to his office desk and quite swiftly realised he had a direct view of you at the bullpen. it should be fine, you were work colleagues, you should be maintaining a professional work relationship. you should be.

but as he tried to will himself to focus on the mountain of work in front of him, his eyes were not cooperating with him, and kept drifting back to you.

you; with your alluring personality, your beautiful features, and that smile. that damn smile was becoming like a drug to him, and it was a lethal dosage. it was burned in his mind the minute he met you, and knowing he’d have to be attacked with it every single day, made him itch.

nanami simply watched shoko speaking with you, paperwork be damned, and yet again your lips parted. there you were, beaming just like you were the night he kissed you. with your hands in his hair, hips pressed against him, tongue dancing with his.

oh, how he wished he could have his hands gripping your waist again. nanami would do anything, he thought, to find what really makes you tick. if he placed a finger in that pretty mouth, would you like it? or perhaps if he left kisses, from your jaw, all the way down your body? what sounds would you make? you really were so confident, so strong, and something tells him that you’d love nothing more than for him to break you, reduce you to a whining mess, one that only knows one word–

“nanami?” he heard from behind his door, pulling him out of whatever sinful path he was making for himself.

“yes, what is it?” he responded to the voice while fixing his pants, which were suddenly rather tight. how was he supposed to get rid of that?

“i’m from the design department, gojo wanted me to tell you he’s scheduled a meeting for the both of you in about 5 minutes.” the woman explained.

well, that’s one way to get rid of it.

౨ৎ…!

author’s note: wow this took me way longer to write than i had planned. ever so sorry for the delay, i’m currently typing these words right now while i am on vacation in portugal. the chapter updates will be so scattered but i will try writing way more frequently!!!

also this was kinda just filler really. it will be a nice little segue into the workplace sexiness that is about to unfold. i hope this chapter makes sense because i think i have lost my mind trying to write it.

see you in the next chapter!

© SUTAAGAARU 2024. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.

taglist: @higurumapet @opheliaas-stuff @diogodxlot @socialanxietyvictim @delirious-donna @zombriesworld @aomi04

[oinkinpigprince]

AYYYY can i request a platonic! pim, charlie and teen reader who sees them as their dads? and how they would react when the reader accidentally call them dad?

AYYYYYYYYY, MUST BE THE MONEYYYYYYYYYY. I think it’d be cute if reader maybe was like a intern @ the smiling friends hq, someone who shadows them on their jobs :33

Pim and Charlie + teen reader

Pim

Pim has hella strong paternal instincts so when he meets you he tries so hard to be seen as a cool authority figure. Even though we all know he’s the nerdy dad, you still tell him he’s cool

He tries to help you with EVERYTHING. If he sees you struggling he’s quick to swoop in and help you, to the best of his abilities. Sometimes he totally fails and you have to get Allan to do it for you 😔😔

Uses lingo really really wrong. Thinks it makes him look cool but he ends up making you laugh. You were really pissy that day and he says “well looks like someone’s feeling a little zesty today” and it was so jarring you were instantly snapped out of your bad mood and just started to laugh

Being both a teen and working @ smiling friends can be, stressful. Pim understands this so often he suggests helping you with your homework! Or just helping you study in general. He wasn’t too good at math but you two can figure it out together I’m sure

Tries to give you life advice and honestly it’s pretty good, it mainly boils down to ‘being kind, wins the prize’ and ‘be who you are!’ But, good advice nonetheless

Sometimes he can be a little over baring when you’re having a rlly bad day which can lead to tension between you two. It’s never serious but it can get a little annoying

But he’s still always there to lend an ear about anything that’s troubling you. It can be something minuscule like someone stepping on your foot or heavy stuff

You two rlly do have a father kid relationship, so it’s no wonder why you’d call him dad on accident. And he is absolutely over joyed, to the point he sheds some tears

He’d be over joyed to be seen as an actual father figure, it’s something he’s always dreamed of. So when you tell him you think of him as a dad he absolutely ecstatic

Charlie

Does not see himself as anywhere fit to being a father figure, probably more of an older brother type. His opinion is NULL and INVALID though.

Kinda doesn’t understand the ethics of letting a kid work w/ them since sometimes their jobs can be, intense. So he often just makes you do paper work at the office. Safe, totally not because he’s lazy, and actually gives you experience

He’s very laid back, and often just lets you off to your own devices. Although out of everyone he’s the most likely to relate to you. Being younger and all

Although when he does let you come w/ Pim and him on a mission he’s like 1000x more productive. Mainly because he knows he has to make sure nothing goes south that can get you hurt, so he’s just way more alert than usual

Buys you food randomly, especially if you’re having a bad day. Usually just some fries or a soda, it’s the small things though.

Although, he does LOVE sending you out on coffee runs. Just thinks it’s funny since you’re an ‘intern’. He just thinks it’s funny, and the cafe isn’t that far either

Loves talking to you about videogames, sometimes it’s wild how much you remind him of how old he is. He sits there as you call one of the Sonic games retro he has a mini crisis

Gives pretty good life advice too!(go figure everyone here is pretty good at life advice) but his sounds less like a Disney channel original and more like just genuine things that can improve your day to day life. He understands what it’s like being a teen, it’s hard man

Brushes it off when you call him dad by accident, even though he finds it funny he chalks it up to an accident. When you tell him about your home life though, he understands immediately

Although he really questions your choice in parental figures

[leehaner]

Talk: Chapter 2

pairing: leehan taesan x fem!reader

genre: ANGST, love triangle, slowburn, eventual smut, fuckboy!leehan, college au, undecided ending + genre tbh im lit writing this on a whim bffs

word count: 2.6k

summary: find out

warnings: suggestive?

A few minutes had gone by and you seemed to be arriving at the party house judging by the cars lined up outside of it searching for parking and groups of people making their way to the front door, there also seemed to be a bouncer. Damn they take their parties seriously here, you thought.

“Is there even any parking?” Sungho questions turning down the music and scanning the street.

“I’m just gonna park in his driveway…. not like he’s gonna give me a ticket” Jaehyun says nonchalantly and that’s exactly what he did.

As everyone seems to be having their own conversations about what kind of night it’s going to be, Taesan hands you back your earbud.

“We should do that again sometime, i like your playlist”, he said while smiling which again made you smile and nod in response. There was something about him that was so charming.

Everyone gets out of the car and you all make your way to the front entrance. The bouncer just seems to be some random guy Jaehyun knows of course and he lets you all in with no issue.The house was rather big and reeked of alcohol, weed and random cologne and perfumes worn by the guests. There was loud music blasting throughout the house but still you could hear laughter and random conversations in the air. You spotted people playing beer pong or dancing or making out or just straight up on their phones.

“Okay I’m gonna go make myself a drink”, Jaehyun says enthusiastically.

“Hey you wanna go make drinks in the kitchen?” Riwoo nudges your shoulder a bit which snaps you out of your observations of the house.

“Yeah sure” you smile

You follow the pink haired boy and the rest of the group to the kitchen.

“Y/n , you want something specific?”Jaehyun asks about making you a drink of your choice.

“Surprise me I guess” you reply, not really having an interest in getting drunk tonight at all but you suppose you’re not too against the idea.

“So Y/n, why’d you transfer here?” Riwoo asks, trying to start a conversation between you and the whole group who only knew about you through Jaehyun and Sungho. Taesan looked particularly interested in what you had to say as he was making himself his own alcohol-juice mix on the kitchen counter.

“It's for a lot of reasons honestly, but the short version, I just had a lot of bad experiences there and I think this school makes more sense for me.” , you reply back. You didn’t intend to still sound mysterious but you would rather not talk about how dreadful your last school year had been.

“Really….how so?

“Just cause I kind of had a few shitty roommates but I live in a single dorm now, we’re only supposed to share the bathroom space”

“Trust me y/n we know all about shitty roommates”, Sungho pitches in as he takes a sip of his soda and they all shoot each other a look. You got the feeling the guy Jaehyun and Sungho were talking about earlier is that shitty roommate. But how bad could he be if they still wanted him to come anyway?

“What do you study y/n?” Taesan asks trying to get the attention back on you, you were taken back that he spoke to you directly for the first time in front of everyone so it took you a second to process before responding.

“I major in art but I’m still figuring out if I want a minor or not, you?”, you say in response, taking the drink Jaehyun had just made for you.

“Holy shit! I guessed you were an art major to Riwoo earlier, I can’t believe I was right” Woonhak says in disbelief, the group all let out small laughs after the comment.

“What gave it away?”

“You look artsy, also Taesan minors in it so I can usually spot when someone is artsy and mysterious” He says teasingly.

“mysterious? you’re so annoying” Taesan questions, shoving him playfully which just made you laugh to yourself at how offended he was by the comment.

“don’t pay him any mind…I’m an open book and to answer your question I major in music”, he says. Immediately after him saying this it makes perfect sense to you.

“So you’ll probably be seeing Taesan more often then right?” Riwoo says, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, could be”, you say with a smile that Taesan reciprocates. You notice after this, everyone scatters away from the kitchen which seemed to have been brought by Riwoo’s signal, he probably thought you two were hitting it off or just wanted to get on the dance floor. Either way you were happy to have some alone time with Taesan.

Without saying anything Taesan leads you out of the kitchen to what seemed like a living room area. There were people dancing and playing drinking games all around you and the music was exponentially louder than before. You both take a seat on the edge of a couch and try to get to know each other a little better.

“So….y/n, what kind of art do you like to do?” Taesan says as he leans in close to your ear, voice raised due to how loud the music was. And you can’t lie, it sends shivers down your spine but you don’t let him see that. As you were about to respond you see a girl coming up to you and Taesan.

“Taesan oh my god! I didn’t know you’d be here! You look so handsome”, She says drunkenly and glances at you as she gets extremely touchy with him.

Does she think we’re together or something…

You get the feeling Taesan is disappointed she came over and ruined the alone time he had with you, he also looked uncomfortable by her presence but seemed to be humoring her to be nice. You couldn’t help but feel bored and with a couple minutes passing by of her still having her one-sided conversation with him, you get up from the couch and mouth the words ‘gonna find a bathroom’ to the boy getting his ears talked off. He nods and faces the drunken girl again in annoyance.

You didn’t really need to use the bathroom that badly but you figured it was better than sitting there watching a random girl try making you jealous over a guy you just met. Judging by the way she was touchy with him they were probably either old fuckbuddies or she’s just really desperate for him.

“Yo Y/n!”, you turn around and see Jaehyun walking over to you.

“I thought you were with Taesan?”

“I was but someone came up to him and they started talking so I just left to find the bathroom”

“Oh okay that sucks though, you good?”

“Yeah I'm fine, just bored….” you say hoping he’d just offer to take you back to your dorm.

“Want another drink?”

“Yeah I guess” you respond and follow him to the kitchen once more, he quickly makes you another drink and hands it to you.

“Oh I forgot, I still wanted you to meet one of my roommates…he just got here a few minutes ago. Just wait here a sec while i find him” , He says to you and walks off.

This must be the shitty roommate Sungho was complaining about earlier. Brushing off that fact, while you wait you take a few sips of your freshly made drink and unlock your phone to look at yourself in the front camera.

“Feeling yourself much?” a familiar voice says

“Staring much?” you snap back without even putting your phone camera down and when you do you're met with the elevator guy from earlier, you don’t know who you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t him. Still, he didn’t suck to look at, his hair and overall appearance was messier this time around though, proving your suspicions from earlier that he probably was at your dorm building for a quick fuck.

“Elevator girl” he says teasingly, grabbing a red solo cup from one of the cabinets next to him signaling it wasn’t his first time attending a party here.

“Psycho” you respond back nonchalantly.

“Ouch …. I thought we had something special going” he says with a fake hurt expression over his face and holding one hand to his chest. You let out a dry laugh.

“So….you’re here with someone I assume?” He asks with genuine curiosity and looks at all the alcohol options before pouring what you think is Vodka in his cup.

“What makes you think that?”

Just a second later Jaehyun pops back up and you figured he’d be followed by his roommate.

“Sorry y/n I can’t fucking find him anywhere but- OH I was looking everywhere for you … Wait, do you guys know each other?”

what the fuck? So this guy is their roommate?

“I guess you could say that”, he responds, and you realize you still don’t know his name.

Jaehyun looks both confused and shocked and it was like you could see the gears in his head turning thinking of how in the world did you and his roommate know each other. “weird…okay. I don’t even wanna know how you know each other so i’ll just go literally anywhere else”.

“…we just met briefly earlier”, you say quickly shutting down any suspicions Jaehyun might’ve had pertaining to your ties to his roommate.

“Right..okay. bye nowwwww” Jaehyun says as he steps away from the kitchen, starting a conversation with a random person walking by.

The boy now gets significantly closer to you than before and runs his fingers through his hair a few times seemingly thinking of what to talk to you about.

“So…y/n right?”

“That’s my name, yes...and I still don’t know yours. Why?” you question

“Someone’s eager… isn’t talking to me enough?” he says which makes you shrug, you were enjoying the back and forth you two are having and for some reason it became some game of who could say the next best coy thing to the other.

“I'd just like to know who i’m talking to is all”

Gesturing to you a bit with his drink in hand, he leans forward. “I could say the same about you y/n”

“You at least know my name”

“What if I wanna know more? If you’re willing to let me of course”

You start to realize the intentions of his words and to be honest you’re not totally opposed to having sex with this stranger. After all, he’s extremely handsome and the way you’re teasing each other with just words is making the tension between you two unavoidable.The only thing is that you did see him get off the elevator on the girls only floor of your building, the thought of having someone’s sloppy seconds doesn’t sit right with you…but it could be fun just following his lead though.

“and how do you suppose you do that?” admittedly you knew what this question would lead to but you didn’t care. This was fun for you.

After hearing your question he downs the rest of his drink and sets the red solo cup on the kitchen counter then extends his hand out seemingly for you to grab. He's kind of a dork you thought.

“Shall we go somewhere a little more quiet?”

This question makes you giggle because his overall way of words is so odd and you can’t predict what he’ll say next but you’re at least 98% sure he’s just like every fuckboy you’ve ever met. You kept thinking about what Jaehyun and Sungho had said about him earlier but from speaking to him, you just didn’t care. You were so intrigued by him and what the night could entail so much so that you disregarded your drink and grabbed onto his hand.

Instantly you felt sparks when your hands touched, he at first cupped them in his but as you both worked your way through the house your fingers somehow became intertwined with one another. Eventually you saw the staircase to the second floor, he never let your hand go the whole way up.

Once you two make it to the top of the staircase he walks over to the first door on the right and twists the doorknob open.

He lets go of your hand gently and steps aside, keeping the door open with his back and his arms slightly stretched out on his sides. Gesturing for you to go inside the room. “M’lady”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment and he smiles at your laughter then closes the door behind him gently.

You notice the bed in the room, and sit at the very end of it facing the boy and cross your legs intently.

“So, your name?”

He walks closer to you with lustful eyes and diverts your question again.

“Would you say you’re a good kisser y/n?”

Shocked both at his bluntness and ability to avoid opening up to you in any way, you still decide to play into his little game for your own amusement. You stand up from the bed and make your way over to him, both of you inching closer to each other at this point.

“Why don’t we find out?”

Without even saying a word he pulls you in by the waist with both hands and presses his lips onto yours, your hands caressing his face. Almost instantly his tongue makes its way inside your mouth and this kissing was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. He kissed you with so much passion yet it was messy and thoughtless like he lost all sense the minute your lips collided. It was a shock to you considering he kept his cool while talking to you not too long ago. But it was evident, he was completely drunk by your touch and you by his.

It was hard for either of you to keep your hands in the same place for too long. One second your fingers would be messily entangled in his long brown hair and the next they’d be guiding his hands on where to touch you. You began walking backwards and him forward, only breaking the kiss for each of you to catch your breath, smile into the kiss or let out occasional moans. Eventually he manages to get you pinned against the wall, hands wandering your body and you decide now would be a good time to tease him, so you break the kiss.

“Is my kissing good enough for me to know your name?”

“Can I fuck you?” He dodges.

“As tempting as that is, I’m not interested in being the second girl you fuck today”

He perks up at the response confused on how you could possibly know this information.

“How’d you…? Oh the elevator…”, he realizes.

“That’s fair. If I could take that back to have you, I would”

“How romantic” you say sarcastically, which causes a smirk to appear on his face.

“I guess you could say I have a way with words,” he replies making you let out a small laugh.

The boy gathers himself after the intense make out session you had together. He fixes his hair, takes out his phone from his pocket, checks his notifications quickly and walks over to the door.

“ Anyway, thanks for this. I gotta go” he says, almost out of the room you’d just been eating each other alive in.

Despite knowing the kind of guy he is by everything you’d seen and heard up to this point, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed about the way he just up and left so quickly. You didn’t even know his name or the first thing about him but you tasted every corner of his mouth. It felt so backwards and yet you were glad to have gotten something from him at all.

He steps back into the room to say one final thing with an innocent smile.

“Oh! my name’s Leehan by the way”

Leehan. Hm

[solarwynd]

my only gripe is that I wish he didn't see us as children. and I don't mean this in that I want him to be half naked all the time or whatever but just that I wish he would realize that we are grown lol it's endearing in normal settings like his lives but when it starts translating to his music and not wanting to talk about his music because he deems it inappropriate for us things like that or certain promo that seems childlike- that's when it starts to get a little bothersome and it doesn't help that the past 2 releases have felt that way.

Why do you think SMGB is portraying fans as kids though? Cause there were also adults in the MV too. I think he just wanted to put kids in there to add to the lighthearted vibe tbh. Also if you mean the crossword puzzle for promo? I liked it 😭 I live on NYTIMES games. So it didn’t come off that way for me

I don’t think Jimin honestly believes that all his fans are children. He’s had fan meets and concerts I’m sure he’s interacted with tons of grown stans.

Even before this point, armys have always been late teens, 20s and beyond. I think it’s just in his nature to cover his bases and tries to be mindful. Like remember when he came on to “warn” us about the LC choreo? It wasn’t because he thought it was inappropriate, not really, but because he knows how stans tend to be. (And armys are that exact strain of stan) He also said he didn’t care how we felt cause he was gonna do it regardless (and the choreo the background dancers were doing was raunchy lmao) FACE also wouldn’t have been the album to release if he thought that too, cause that album is dark and full of him cussing. When he’s addressing fans especially when it’s a song like CTT or SGMB I think it’s just easier to make it kid friendly because that neutral-ish ground imo. I mean I can still understand what you’re saying because the one thing I hate is being treated like that or talked down to, but to me I just don’t believe that’s what he’s trying to do.

He’s not as care free as the other members are but I don’t think that’s a bad thing at all.

[humbledragon669]

S1E4 – Saturday Morning Funtime Write Up P3 - Saturday (The last day of the World) from "You're better off without him." to "You bad angels!"

As upsetting as it is to not have a photo banner for this chunk of the episode write up, I’m going to launch straight in. The timeline for this episode gets important here, so let me just refresh your memory:

So at the point in the episode where we see Crowley preparing to ambush Hell’s minions, the streetside argument has already happened. Aziraphale has also been attacked by archangels and he has tried to talk to God about the whole situation, but we as the audience are not aware of these two events at this point in the episode. Got it? Because I still can’t get that all straight in my head, I really have no idea why I have such a mental block about it.

Harping back to something I mentioned in the previous part of this episode write up, Crowley looks pretty purposeful during this scene. He’s not gathering his things, he’s not desperately looking for a location to run to. He knows exactly what his plan of action entails. I honestly don’t think he has any intention of running anywhere if he has to do it without Aziraphale – now he’s all about surviving as long as he can, and causing as much damage as he can in the process.

Side note: credit to the set design guys, who gave Crowley a doorbell in the shape of a snake. Pretty sure I need to get one of those for my own front door now.

Also gotta love the costume department, having Hastur’s wig thrown on top of his frog/toad in the most careless way imaginable. Goes to show how much he cares about whether any humans notice anything weird about him by this point.

I don’t know why, but I find Hastur’s reaction to Ligur’s demise snort-laughingly funny. It gets me every. Single. Time. Maybe because it’s just so over the top. Maybe I’m just a bit twisted. Maybe a bit of both. Probably like almost everyone else in this fandom to be fair. I’m not going to feel too bad about it, he seems to gather himself pretty quickly afterwards. And hey, you remember all the stuff I highlighted about the noise that we hear when Crowley or Aziraphale do a miracle? Well we’re about to be introduced to the noise that happens when Hastur does one.

You can ignore the little “ow” at the end of the clip, that’s just Crowley. It’s the noise just before that – the weird “flexing” noise with a bell. It’s very different to the noise we hear for miracles from Aziraphale and Crowley. I don’t think it will come to be as important as the noise associated with our hero pair, but it’s worth noting that it is fundamentally different. It does make me wonder why the miracle noise for Crowley isn’t closer to the one for Hastur. Perhaps it’s to do with intent rather than the caster’s nature.

I think I’ve seen this discussed before, but did we all notice how Aziraphale assumed that when the call connected he was actually talking to Crowley? He doesn’t wait to see if the answerphone kicks in, or if Crowley offers a greeting. I suspect it’s because he has never actually had to talk and listen to the answerphone before because Crowley answers every single time he calls. Which at the very least implies that Aziraphale always knows exactly where Crowley is, but further suggests that as a general rule, Crowley is with the angel whenever he isn’t in his apartment. Food for thought.

This phone call and its placement in the episode contrasted with its placement in the chronology is one of the reasons why I get so confused about the timeline. Aziraphale’s tone when the call is answered is a far cry from the terrified bleating of his hurtful rejection on the street corner, which is the last time that he spoke to Crowley. It’s only when you take into consideration that he has actually been threatened by archangels and told that the war is going ahead regardless that the phone call starts to make sense. At this point he tells Crowley that he knows where the Antichrist is – something he swore that he wouldn’t do less than 24 hours prior. What’s interesting about this about-turn is that he doesn’t really have any new information at this point – it’s his take on the situation that’s changed. He’s (finally) realised that the only way they can fix the situation is together.

I *think* Crowley’s stroke of genius bullshitting speech is the first time we are given some insight into the hierarchy of Hell – he calls Hastur a “Duke of Hell”. Crowley has previously been referred as “the demon Crowley” when named specifically by other Hell residents, so despite his very casual greeting in the first episode (“Hi guys”), this would suggest that he is below Hastur in the organisational food chain of Downstairs.

Clearly the people conducting the theological debate into how many angels can dance on the head of a pin became very frustrated with this ridiculous question, because the research notes become more and more incredulous. The one on the far right is my personal favourite:

Side note: the line is “angels don’t dance”. Not can’t or won’t. Got that? Stash it away somewhere so we can pull it, and the information about Aziraphale being the exception to the rule, back out when we get to the ball in season 2.

I have to say, the amount of work that has gone into the sequence of footage coming up blows me away slightly. The photography effect applied to the footage of the dancing men, the honky-tonk orchestration of the music, the underlying ticking sound of an old movie projector, the costumes, the choreography – it’s incredible how much attention to detail has been exercised to produce less than a minute of film. Did I mention all the work Michael Sheen’s face is putting in? It’s quite ridiculous.

I’m not sure I had come across the gavotte as a dance previous to watching Omens – it’s not exactly up there with the popular ones like the waltz or the tango, is it? Wikipedia describes it as a “lively peasants kissing dance”. Probably not all that surprising that Aziraphale took to this particular dance style when you have that piece of information, which is completely the opposite to how I feel about seeing Crowley (and Hastur and Ligur) doing a bit of carefree disco boogie (which he does to the same piece of music as Aziraphale’s gavotte but with a different musical setting). I actually didn’t even realise it was him until my 3rd rewatch.

Quick question about the journey through the phone system – why does Crowley count down to the exit? Surely that just tells Hastur what the plan is? His plan works regardless, it just strikes me as odd that he does it.

Poor old Hastur, the idea of being stuck in an endless loop of Aziraphale’s voice seems to have him quite frightened. He’s even lost his wig on his entry into the phone system. His final choice of word to use as an insult against Crowley is interesting though; I would have thought that calling the demon a snake was something of a compliment. Importantly, Crowley leaves the apartment with nothing more than his phone – Alpha Centauri definitely looking off the cards at this point.

Aaaaaand there it is. The little piece of the puzzle that we didn’t even know we were missing – a placard that tells us we were missing a window of time. So if we just refer back to my timeline from earlier, we’ve moved from step 8 backwards to step 3:

It looks like Aziraphale is nervous again – he’s wringing his hands in that distracted way that he does. And if he didn’t look troubled enough before the little gang of archangels show up, he certainly looks that way now. There are two things about this scene I want to point out, and the first has to do with the sound. As soon as we’re aware of the presence of other Heavenly beings (Michael’s greeting), all of the speech has some reverb applied to it and the background noise fades out. The result is that we feel like these characters have been isolated from everything around them, and given that nobody pays them any attention at all, I think it’s pretty obvious that that’s the intention. It’s a really clever little device, and once the (slightly menacing) music kicks in, it’s virtually unnoticeable. The second of the things I wanted to point out is that we see Aziraphale panicking in this scene. Not trying to hide something or divert attention, but actually panicking. He stammers, there are unexplained pauses in his speech, his eyes are wide, and he gestures a lot with his head (and later, his hands too). He even backs up when the other three advance on him. I think it will become, in later episodes, very important for us to be able to recognise what a panicking Aziraphale looks like, and this is it.

He has every reason to panic – he’s just been told that Heaven knows that he’s been meeting with someone from the other side. More than that, they describe his companion pretty accurately, and for the second time in a matter of minutes somebody describes the true nature of the relationship (according to my head canon anyway) between Aziraphale and Crowley, which, rather importantly, he makes no attempt to rebut. There’s a tiny beat where the realisation that Crowley is in trouble with Hell hits home and he looks as if he wants to ask Uriel for more detail but Michael moves on too quickly for him.

The fact that this seems like news to him at this point goes to show how little Aziraphale and Crowley actually listen to one another. Crowley has already told him that he’s in trouble with Hell, so this shouldn’t be new information for the angel. Quick side note: it turns out that the word Heaven choose to use for his interactions with Crowley is “consorting”, rather than “fraternising”.

Aziraphale makes an interesting point as he tries to argue his point about the role that he believes angels should play in their administration of Earthly affairs – that being human is fundamentally about having the ability to make choices. Which adversely implies that actually working for Heaven or Hell has the consequence of not being able to make choices at all. He may even be implying that without the human race, angels themselves have no purpose:

Our job, as angels, should be to keep all this working, so they can make choices.

It’s a direct contradiction between the desire for a war that will only result in the rendering of angels as beings futile. I think he’s onto something, but the archangels do not look moved in the slightest.

You can see the moment in Aziraphale’s waffling when he starts to think he’s got a handle on the situation because he stops stammering so much. Once you see it, it’s pretty glaringly obvious. These three thugs archangels aren’t about to let him think he’s getting control though, and we see the second instance of Aziraphale being slammed against a wall in the season. There is a pretty huge difference between this one and the one at Tadfield Manor though. Let’s just remind ourselves of Aziraphale’s facial expression when Crowley “threateningly” pinned him against a wall in episode 2:

And now when Uriel does it in an actual threatening way:

The second of those faces, the one that’s positioned a full foot away from the aggressor instead of an inch, is actually scared. And it doesn’t change the whole time he’s pinned against the wall. He even tries to tell Uriel that they shouldn’t be doing whatever it is they’re about to do to him – he’s genuinely frightened. I’d like to think the whole point of Uriel’s wall slam is really only to provide the audience with a point of reference for the audience to see Aziraphale’s scared face. I wittered on about it in the episode 2 write up a lot so I’m not going to bang on about it too much here, but Aziraphale’s reaction to Uriel’s real threat in this scene proves that Crowley’s wall slam was never a genuine threat – it was just a bit of sexy role play.

Aziraphale also tries to remember the archangels of their true nature during his frightened spluttering– that they’re “the good guys”. What I find particularly telling about the response he gets is that there’s no disputing or correcting of his assumptions, merely an assertion that he has been out of Heaven for too long, suggesting that Heavenly beings maybe don’t consider “goodness” as one of their defining characteristics anymore. Being called “ridiculous” must have been pretty hurtful for Aziraphale here too, seeing as that’s the word he and Crowley threw around between each other just the night before at the bandstand, and when this interaction (as Aziraphale chose to call it) is over, there’s a split second where we can see the fear and dawning realisation that he has lost this particular battle and is well on the way to losing the war. No pun intended.

And just to prove how pure of heart Aziraphale truly is, he can’t even call the archangels a nasty word. He really is the dearest thing, isn’t he? He’s just been threatened and punched in the stomach, been called ridiculous and had his relationship sneered at, and he can’t even manage to throw an expletive at them as they vanish. It’s probably a good thing Crowley wasn’t around to see the whole thing, otherwise I think he would be torn between protective-boyfriend mode and just pointing and laughing at the angel.

Side note: remember all the background noise that faded away when Michael and their cronies showed up? It fades back in immediately as soon as they leave the scene, although it’s very difficult to hear as we have musical soundtrack that continues underneath Aziraphale’s parting blow.

Seeing as we’re about to leave London and return to Tadfield for a short while, I feel like that’s a good place to wrap this part of the write up for this episode. As always, questions, comments, discussion, all welcome! See you next time 😊

[rosicheeks]

Unfortunately relatable. I grew up in the church and have a lot of Christian trauma from that. I show up for special occasions for my parents… sometimes. But it’s uncomfortable from the moment I step through the door. Bigoted pastor, the self-righteousness disguising the prejudice, the political comments from the altar. Shots at young people left right and center as if the hell on earth wasn’t caused by the same older generation 90% of the congregation belongs to..

I miss being young in the choir and the youth groups and not struggling with it. It’s wild to look back at the younger version of me who was unshakeable in his faith and honestly just saddening.

I was texting my sister today about it and she said

“I 100% think ALL of us have a ton of religious trauma and everyone else in the family just doesn’t realize it cause they’re still drinking the kool-aid.”

I ran out of tag room and didn’t want to delete any 😭 seriously not lying I could write a book about all my thoughts and experiences

[onika-t-maraj]

…

[fingertipsmp3]

That last post just reminded me of something honestly mind-boggling that that friend did

[fandom-fae]

it’s so difficult to be angry at her when i can fully understand why she did what she did (or at least i can rationalize it). like it pisses me the fuck off, but i get it. i can’t even claim i’d be more mature, because- would i be? really? i don’t fucking know.

i hate the attitude she’s giving me today, but i can’t say it isn’t understandable. i don’t think it’s justified, but i do realize i said mean shit in anger to her too. we’re both childish and it makes me want to explode.

[luv4fushi]

thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.

he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.

it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.

“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”

“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.

arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.

you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.

“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”

“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”

it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”

satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”

“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.

the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.

“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.

“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.

“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.

“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”

satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”

“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”

silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.

“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”

you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”

“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”

you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.

“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”

satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.

“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”

“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”

“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”

“it’s a game!”

you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.

“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”

“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”

“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.

“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.

satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”

“love you, dummy.”

“love you too, baby.”

“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.

“yes, chef!”

[dancingbirdie]

Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺

Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo

Something Imagined / Something Real

Word Count: 3.9K

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA

Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.

The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him. 

“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.” 

Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”

“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire. 

“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way. 

But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought. 

“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously. 

Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering. 

“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. 

“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly. 

Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.

“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence. 

“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.” 

“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”

Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.

After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it. 

It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt. 

Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.

“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him. 

The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”

“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?” 

“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder. 

Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.

“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished. 

“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.” 

Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror. 

As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed. 

Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.

Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering. 

He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed. 

That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot. 

Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes. 

The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination. 

Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master. 

But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?

She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.

It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.

So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp. 

“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”

Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain. 

“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.

“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion. 

Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling. 

“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.

Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.

But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.

Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face. 

“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”

Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand. 

The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water. 

Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand. 

Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?

“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty. 

“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”

“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off. 

“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze. 

“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”

Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.

But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try. 

***

He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad. 

Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her. 

“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question. 

The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well. 

“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly. 

Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her. 

“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.

“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees. 

Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far. 

“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.

“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.

“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed. 

Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind. 

Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years. 

Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.

“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”

Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.

“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”

She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare. 

“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.

“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”

“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”

Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.

“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted. 

Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight. 

“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady. 

“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.” 

Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on. 

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”

She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession. 

But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment. 

“Why?” he asked quietly.

She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face. 

“Why what?”

“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest. 

Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”

Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly. 

“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.” 

Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much. 

“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy. 

“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her. 

She held his gaze, speechless. 

“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”

Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation. 

“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone. 

“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.

Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him. 

“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”

“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.

“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.

“Could I hug you?” she whispered.

The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded. 

Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.

Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.   

She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer. 

“This… this is nice,” he whispered. 

He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response. 

It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next. 

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: implied noncon, yandere

fem reader

The way Gojo Senpai is so obnoxious, he doesn’t understand his flirting is making you uncomfortable…

He seriously thinks he’s making you fall head over heels in love with him even when you give him nothing in return to make him think that. He just thinks you’re embarrassed and nervous, flustered by his attention, and that’s the reason you divert your gaze and bite your lip when he has you against the lockers, leaning on his hand with his shades gliding low on his nose—telling you that you have no shot becoming a sorcerer, but that you look too cute in the uniform not to give it your best try. 

“Don’t worry, just say my name, and I’ll come save you,” he’ll say. “You can be my personal assistant supervisor instead.” 

His game isn’t anything to brag about. It's more in line with bullying than flirting, but you pick up on the suggestiveness. That heated saccharine look within his blue eyes can only mean one thing if the way he plays with your hair isn’t enough of a hint already.

But his words are nothing short of derogatory, and all in all, he simply makes you feel gross—a sentiment you thought you put across, but it seems that having six eyes only makes you blind.

It takes Shoko telling him to leave the poor Kohai alone for him to finally understand that you don’t like him. And then he’s just confused and embarrassed.

And a tinge bit irritated.

Gojo knows for a fact he could make any girl want him. Even those who seem to hate him would melt if he gave them the same attention he’s been giving you. Any girl. He could have any girl, but he chose you. And you reject him?

No. He can’t accept that.

“Most girls would be grateful for my attention,” He states plainly after having tracked you down.

Your head snapped, jolting. “Gojo Senpai—” You dropped the mop in your hands with a clatter, having been deep in your own thoughts on classroom cleaning duty. You sighed as the scare settled, giving a breathy laugh, “You scared me—”

“Is that it?” he interrupted. “I scare you?”

You quirked a brow with a tilt of your head. “What?”

“Do I scare you?” he repeated, louder, posted on the threshold in a stance you’d never seen him in—stiff and squared, not his usual lazy laidbackness.

Confused, your eyes looked around as if searching for clues but came up emptyhanded, “Uhm, I don’t understand—”

“It’s a simple question,” he said, cutting you off again, this time with a step into the classroom. He talked slowly, cradling the next words, “Are you scared of me?”

Where it all came from, you hadn’t a clue. But then again, Gojo Senpai has always been rather strange. 

Were you scared of him? It’s not really something you’ve ever thought about. Sure, if you were to go one versus one with him, you’d probably piss yourself. But in a regular setting, you just found him to be as grating as the next person.

“I don’t think so?” you end up answering.

“Good. So what is it then?” His shades were low enough for his stare to skim over. Brighter than clear skies, and yet, somehow, so dark. “Why don’t you like me.”

Oh, so he’s figured it out on his own then. It’s about time. And thank fuck for it—saves you the trouble of breaking it to him yourself. Though you were still left with the unfair task of telling him why.

“Honestly, Gojo Senpai, I’m not, or well… you’re just not my type.”

Stick to the basics, is what you told yourself. There’s no need to drag this out.

“Yeah, I figured. I’m asking why,” he countered, in complete disagreement with your thought.

Still, you wanted to fight for it. “Does it really matter?”

“Yes.”

This conversation was the last thing you wanted, but it seemed the white-haired prodigy wouldn’t leave without having it.

“Well…” you started, still pondering. Maybe he’d appreciate the honesty? He’s a rather straightforward guy himself. “I mean, there’s no way you don’t already know this, but—” You picked up the broom again mid-sentence. “You’re really obnoxious.”

He took a small second before he scoffed, “So? No one else cares.”

It reminded you of arguing with someone half your age—the petty anger in an ill-thought-through comment slung at you as if it carried all the weight in the world. But what everyone else thought of him hadn’t anything to do with you—and even so, out of the people on campus, you’re certain you’re not the only one who finds his attitude unpleasant—they just don’t tell it to his face. 

You had half the mind to tell him to go get a grip, but he was still your Senpai.

“Good for you, I guess?” You weren’t really looking to fight with him, after all. “So you can flirt with literally anyone else then,” you dismiss him and go back to finish cleaning the classroom—glad to have put it all behind you. You were starting to fear he’d never leave you alone.

There’s a woosh, then the hard thunk of your back hitting the wall. Both your upper arms are gripped tight, pinned. When you open your eyes again after adjusting to the impact, you look straight up into the full view of two crisp comet blues.

“You’re mighty rude for a Kohai. You know that?”

Your head stings. You blink crookedly.

“Senpai—”

“Maybe I’ve misjudged you. D’you have anythin’ for show to back that attitude up?” It’s eerie how he says it in the same flirty fashion he would otherwise—even the look in his eyes are the same. But his grip tightens.

“I don’t want to fight—”

“No?” he cuts you off with a pout. “I could've sworn you were asking for it—all but begging for it a second ago.”

You whimper, cowering at the sudden bite in his voice.

“What’s the matter, huh? I thought you said you weren’t scared?”

Your voice comes out weak, “Please, Gojo Senpai, I—”

“Please?” he questions brightly, eyes stark and burning like a stovetop. “Yeah, that’s got a nicer ring to it—suits you better.” The smile that splits across his face is nothing short of unhinged. “But it’s not enough for me to let your disrespect slide.” He licks his lips, and a chill runs up your spine, feeling like caught prey. “Lucky you, I know exactly what price to put on it.”

His mouth devour yours the same way—pouncing like a beast would, with teeth more than lips, then a tongue. You whine as you twist—it’s more instinctive than deliberate when your knee shoots up into the unprotected space between his legs—right into that thing that was rubbing and rutting against you.

You make a run for it as he staggers back with a hiss, but you don’t make it farther than three measly steps before you’re bent over the closest desk.

His fist wrangles your hair, using it to shove you face-down against the wood—the weight of his body on top of your back with his voice raspy against your ear. “We could’ve left this with a kiss, but I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy now.”

Tears spill hotly in a panic, but no matter how much strength you put into lifting yourself up, you remain down. Sobbing, “Let go—help—”

He snickers with a hand under your skirt, spidering delicately up your thigh. “Who’re you callin’ for help, hm? I’m already here.”

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[reidrum]

all yours if you want me | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: i think i really like this but if i proofread it one more time im gonna hate it so im just putting it out now lol. this is the full version of the sneak peak i posted last week woohoo ! also this is my first time writing smut so im sorry if it sucks but i hope y'all like it <3

summary: bau's got their first day off in weeks, and you're heading straight to the club to have some fun, you just didn't expect your coworker/crush to also be there while you're trying to forget him.

cw: 18+ minors pls dni, smut, p in v (dont be silly wrap ur willy), munch!spence, lowkey softdom!spence, suggestive dancing in public spaces, minor insecure reader, reader is afab and wears a dress and heels

wc: 4.6k

pls let me know if i forgot anything and let me know your thoughts pleaseee xx

it was the first friday night off you and any of the team members of the bau had in a long time, and you all were determined to spend it well. jj and hotch immediately went home to their families, penelope and emily decided they were going home to get some well needed rest, rossi went to a cigar club, not really sure what derek and spencer ended up doing, but you knew what you were doing tonight.

you’d had a long standing invitation from one of your college friends for a club night, and at first you’d decline because you’d get swept away on a case, and because you were hopelessly pining after your hot nerdy coworker dr. spencer reid.

spencer was smart in many ways, three PhDs, countless published papers, not to mention that eidetic memory of his. there was one thing that spencer was just fucking dumb at, and it was your shameless flirting at him.

like it annoyed you how clueless he was. you’d bring him coffee in the mornings with hearts drawn on it, fall asleep on his shoulder on the jet rides back, even complimenting his outfit or looks which made him flustered, but still nothing. your harbored crush seemed to stay just that, a crush. and while you’d hope he would get the hint he just hasn’t.

so you pull out your phone to text your friend. 

“barry’s at 9?”

“oh my god FINALLY. i’m there i'll pick you up at 8:30.”

you grin to yourself, this was good. you needed to get out and unwind for once.

you drive home quickly to hop in the shower before your friend comes to get you. throwing on a silk slip dress as your outfit of choice, you slipped your heels on and met your friend in the car.

walking into the club, you’re met with the thumping bass of the music playing and the staunch smell of alcohol, sweat, and sex.

it made you think about the last time you got laid, which was a really long time ago. and honestly you wanted to sleep with spencer so bad you hadn’t been making advances elsewhere. but that was going to change tonight, you were determined to have good slutty fun, and hopefully get laid.

your friend grabbed your hand and beelined to the bar, ordering two tequila shots each. once you downed them you moved to the dance floor and started preying for a target. as you’re scanning the room, you notice a familiar looking mop of brown hair standing next to bald headed man. a combo you knew all too well.

-

derek morgan was a player. and before he’s a player, he’s a damn good friend. which was his reasoning for dragging spencer out of his apartment to come out to the club and have fun.

“but i can have fun at home by myself morgan.”

“kid, you need to let loose once in a while. you are young, i’m just helping you take advantage of it.”

-

so now spencer’s at the club (a sentence he still struggles to believe) wearing trousers and navy button down shirt to which morgan had popped the top buttons open because ‘it gives the ladies a sneak peek’. he just rolled his eyes and went with it. he’s nursing a shirley temple at the bar, perusing the environment when he comes across a pair of eyes he knows like the back of his hand.

when you recognize the amber eyes you couldn’t believe your luck. of course, on the one night you’d decided to explore other options he shows up in the least expected place for him to be. so much for getting over him, you think. shyly raising your hand to wave, spencer returns the gesture. morgan takes note, “who are you waving t- oh, pretty girl is here huh pretty boy?” he nudges him.

a blush raises on his face. spencer thought you were attractive, like really attractive. you were a great addition to the bau and he admired your work ethic a lot, the day you walked into the bullpen wearing a fitted pantsuit had his own pants growing real tight. he still remembers when you introduced yourself and he couldn’t even get up without exposing himself. you thankfully didn’t think it was weird, and spencer was relieved when it was finally time to go home. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have nights where he wished you were the one finishing him off and not his rough hands. he didn’t think you’d like someone like him, and took all of your ‘advances’ as morgan calls them, as acts of kindness.

morgan laughs as he watches spencer’s iq deteriorate to below 50 staring at you, “do you what you gotta do man. but you better be going home with someone tonight okay?”

spencer nods and nurses his drink a bit and looks back to morgan to realize he’s already off dancing with some girls in the corner. damn.

after your distanced encounter with spencer, you decide it’s time to move on and have some fun on your own. you couldn’t be hung up on him anymore, at least not tonight. tonight was for bad decisions.

good thing bad decision walked up to you asking to dance, whatshisname leads you to the dance floor and puts his hands on your hips, swaying to the beats of t-pain and pitbull.

you didn’t know, but spencer was watching every move you made. he watched you get led to the dance floor, the way he placed his hands right on your ass and squeezed, and how he turned you around so you were dancing on his front with your back. he gripped his glass so tight the bartender had to tell him he’d have to pay if it breaks.

he gets it, you’re attractive. this is the kind of thing that happens to people who look like you. who wouldn’t want you? but then he watched it happen a second time. and a third. and a fourth and fifth, till he just stopped counting at nine for his sanity.

spencer was not used to the green monster taking over him, but oh god was he fucking seething with jealousy.

you realized spencer was watching you by whatshisname number five. he hadn’t moved from his spot and he was constantly staring in your direction. deciding to do a little experiment, you played up your dancing a lot more, acting more flirtatious, dragging the guy’s hands further down, and letting out open mouthed moans that you knew spencer couldn’t hear but could definitely see. you watched as his jaw shifted and his knuckles turned white as you danced with each guy, realizing the growing effect that you now had on him.

by whatshisname number nine, you casted your hook. making sure to face spencer and meet his eyes, you watched as they darkened when he realized you were looking right at him. spencer might’ve brushed it off as a coincidence, but then you winked at him. and he realized what you were doing—you were taunting him, and fuck was it working for him. the bulge in his pants grew uncomfortable that he had to stand up to not draw so much attention to it under the bar lights. 

you watched him stand up and adjust himself and you threw your line. when he looked back up at you, you made a come here motion with your index finger and a bite of your lip. spencer’s eyes darkened impossibly more, he paid for his tab and strode over to you.

sinker.

he pulled you from the man behind you, who muttered a ‘what the fuck’ and moved away. spencer pulled you flush to his chest and with a low voice in the crest of your ear he whispered, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about dr. reid, could you explain it to me?”

spencer tightens his hold on you and ghosts over your ear once more, “this is a dangerous game you’re playing, sweetheart.”

“a game you joined the second you walked over here.”

he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and matched the small smirk on your lips. game on.

the song changed to something with a more sultry beat, and you used the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck and let his hands guide your hips to the music. while he wasn’t much of a dancer, he could definitely keep a beat. it didn’t prove to be so difficult when your chest was pushing up on his own that he was just waiting for them to spill out. he realized he could feel your hardened nipples through your slip, the nubs rubbing friction through the fabric of their clothes. he moaned internally while he gripped your hips to pull you even closer. it was clear spencer seemed to be getting comfortable with moving your body and holding you close, but you couldn’t let that happen.

before the second chorus you turn around in his arms so your back is pressed up against his front, and you start dancing on him.

spencer’s taken by surprise, something you felt when his hands faltered the confident rhythm it kept up, and while he watched you dance just like this with all those guys it’s like his mind is blank now.

you recognize the song playing, collide by justine skye & tyga, and use the sultry beat to your advantage. you move your ass hard on his front, feeling his length pressed between your cheeks. you gesture for him to lean his head down and he lets out a low groan as you whisper in his ear, “all that for me?”.

a primal instinct starts to take over spencer’s being, and he grips your hips to meet his rutting from behind. spencer was desperate for any friction that could soothe the growing ache in his pants. you grinned as you felt take what he needed from you. it was quickly wiped off your face when you felt his hands inching dangerously close to where you really wanted him.  you place your hands on his with surprise and look at him, “what are you doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he threw back at you, “but if there’s something you’d like me to do, i’m all ears.” spencer grazes his fingers under the hem of your dress, toying with the lace band of your panties and slipping his fingers below it to stroke your inner thighs.

fuck. he turned it on you so fast it almost gave you whiplash. the provocative dancing was something you could handle, hell everyone on that dance floor was doing the same thing as you both. what you weren’t sure you could handle was him about to touch you in a public space. but, your body betrayed you as it turned you on to another plane. you look up at him with lust filled eyes and let out a breathy moan of his name. spencer collapses internally and stands his ground, “if you want something, beg me.”

spencer thinks he’s won the upper hand, and he’s feeling so smug behind you. he still thinks he has the upper hand until you reach down and place his middle and index finger in your mouth, circling your tongue around the digits.

“touch me.” you moan out, releasing his fingers.

spencer is dumbfounded how he’s the one about to burst out his pants when he made you beg for him. it should make him feel embarrassed at how close he was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. not when you in his arms pleading him to do something. you sounded so pretty, and who was he to deny a pretty thing like you?

his fingers continue their journey down, outlining the lace trim resting on your thighs. he hooks his fingers on the fabric to pull it aside and slips into you, going at an aching pace to gather the wetness and groaning out, “jesus, you’re so wet, was this all for me? you needed my attention that bad, baby?”

you whimper and grip his hand even tighter because you’re not sure if your legs are holding out any longer. it’s all so overwhelming—having his hands down your panties in the middle of the dance floor, the lewdity of the noises in your ear, the hard length pressing desperately on your ass. this is all you’ve ever wanted from him, to want you. and now it’s happening, and your brain can’t fire the neurons fast enough to process the moment. instead your body responded with your skin heating up with anticipation, heart beating out as much adrenaline to keep up. the daze is getting foggier by the second as he trails his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the wetness and circling your clit on the way up. and you think you’re about to get accustomed to the pace he’s set, when he delves between your folds and you moan out loud so abruptly that the nearby patrons looked around wondering where it came from.

you can feel spencer’s shit eating grin behind you as he moves his head down to leave love bites on your neck. if he can feel your bluff dissipating, he’s not saying anything. his fingers set a painfully slow rhythm, and you grind down trying to get any more friction to reach your peak. he’s hitting you in all the right spots that make you see the stars and beyond, leaning your head back on his chest as you barrel towards your climax. you feel yourself mere seconds away from reaching, and spencer suddenly pulls his fingers out, making you whine out in protest, “wh- what are you doing?”

spencer grabs your wrist and starts dragging you through the sweaty bodies surrounding you, tightening his grip with a small smirk as he passes a few of the guys you were dancing with earlier. suckers.

he pushes the doors open with a force and while the cool air is attempting to return your body to homeostasis, the anticipation of where he’s going overtakes you, “spence, where are we going wh-“ you cut off your sentence with a gasp as he handles you flush to the door of his car. then it’s just silence for a few moments. no loud bass or weird dudes, just the two of you. the only sound that can be heard are your breaths competing for prominence. you look up at him and focus on the details of his face illuminated by the moonlight, trying to read his expression. his honeyed eyes have fully darkened to a lustful hickory, and suddenly you felt like a gazelle being preyed on by a lion.

he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the car with a soft beep. it’s the focused eyes on you that drive you to open the door, but it’s the subtle silent nod of his head towards the car that makes you move inside waiting for him to join you. he climbs in after you, shutting the door and locking it.

spencer moves to the middle seat and allows his legs to spread open, he taps his thighs and faintly says, “come here.”

you shuffle closer and swing your legs over him, your dress rising up a little as you fully sit on his clothed crotch. and now you realize the corporeality of the moment. it’s like, really real now. all this time pining after the boy genius with no luck and now he’s got you in the backseat of his car and your panties crooked, waiting for you to move. the bravado you wore and so tightly held onto for a majority of the night comes crashing down like a shattered vase, and you’re not sure if you have any more in you to salvage the pieces. you may be a profiler, but try as you might you are not a mind reader, yet you so desperately want to know what he’s thinking. is it too much to ask what this means? will it overwhelm him to say you’ve dreamt about this moment for many nights, and how those dreams went on till the early morning when he’d stay and brush your hair back with a temple kiss. the whispers of sweet nothings sticking to you like honey as you got ready for the day. are these questions you even want to know the answer to?

you may not be a mind reader, but he is dr. spencer reid, who noticed your demeanor change after too long of a silence.

“hey,” he holds your chin delicately to your eyes, “it’s okay if you want to stop, i’m sorry for tak-“

it’s your turn to cut him off, “no! no i, i still want this, i just,” you falter.

“just what, baby?” he coos softly.

it makes tears well up in your eyes, you hope he can’t see them, “i’ve just wanted this for so long, and it’s probably embarrassing that i’m admitting this now of all times, but i don’t know if i can handle this meaning more to me than it does to you.” you confess quietly.

spencer listens to your admission and gingerly resecures his arm behind you, a position he thinks is starting to become second nature. he rubs soft shapes into the small of your back, “what makes you think that?”

“because i basically threw myself at you tonight, and it seems to be the first time you noticed me.” you say halfheartedly. 

“you think i don’t notice you?” he whispers, leaning in to leave soft kisses in the crook of your neck. spencer is dumbfounded, confused at how you reached such a conclusion. but as a man of science, he feels there’s only one way to prove himself. he breathes your name out, “can i show you how much i notice you? please?”

you nod, at least you could commit this moment to memory if it was all you’d have left of him. he presses his lips to yours for the first time that night, your breath faltering as he becomes more feverous with his attacks. slotting his tongue with yours, your hands move up to his silky hair to take purchase in. he lets out a groan as he pulls back from you, “i need to taste you.”

he guides your body to lean back on the center console, the only way his tall figure would be able to accommodate this position. your legs are still split on either side of his legs, using your hands to prop yourself up to watch his movements. he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and slowly slides them down, moaning at the way your slick causes resistance as he pulls them off your legs. wrapping his arms under your thighs to lift you up to face level, he places small kisses on your inner thighs as he makes his way to your core. he places a final kiss on your center before licking a long stripe up to your clit. moaning out wantonly, he continues his ministrations and kitten licks all over you, circling back up to your clit after each round.

“spence..” you whine out. he moves his focus to your clit, circling and sucking till you’re squirming in his arms so much has to grip your thighs. your hands are fussing through his hair, gripping and pulling to find something to ground you. spencer then slips his fingers into your core for the second time tonight, and you lose it.

he’s pumping his fingers in and out, that all you can hear is the squelching noises of your cunt. adding another one, you’re unable to stay still anymore, as if you were before.

“oh my fuck, spencer. i’m gonna cu-, cum. please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” you moan out filthy.

spencer unlatches his mouth for a moment, “come for me, baby.”

your orgasm crashes down on you like a wave breaking on the shore. it’s all consuming, leaving you shaking and breathless and he lifts his head from between your legs and you see his chin glistening with you in the moonlight. the sight itself is so pornographic, you can’t help but shuffle back onto his lap to crash your lips back to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. he tangles his hands in your hair as you move yours between you both, unzipping his trousers to palm him through his boxers.

he breakily moans in your ear as you slowly pull back the band to take him out. the sight takes you by surprise, you knew he was big, you felt it on your ass while you were dancing. but seeing how it compared to your hand had you bulging your eyes.

“you’re so big,” you whisper. how the hell was that fitting inside of you?

spencer the mind reader places his hand on top of yours as you lazily stroke him, “we’ll go slow, don’t worry.” he can’t help but feel his ego inflate to the skies, he can’t remember the last time he had someone look intimidated by him.

nodding faintly, you gather the spit in your mouth and let it fall between you both to land on the flushed pink tip. you spread it up and down his length, setting a slow pace that had him moaning expletives in your ear.

“oh-, ohhh, fuck baby. you’re so good at that holy shit,” he says trying to hold himself together. you give him a few more pumps before lifting your hips up to guide him inside you. you move his tip to your entrance, rubbing it teasingly before spencer places his hands on your sides to stabilize you, and slowly sink you down onto him.

the second his tip pushes past your folds, you both moan out in harmony. placing your hands on his shoulders you leverage yourself to sink down further inch by inch, until your core is flush with the base of his thighs.

spencer is a man of many words, maybe too many. but right now the only word he can remember is your name as he watched you take his length whole inch by inch slowly losing any restraint he had left. the pressure his cock had inside of you was heavenly. you’d never felt so full, and you could tell he was trying so hard to stay still as you adjusted above him.

when you bottom out spencer throws his head back against the seat, “oh that’s it, good girl,” you clenched around him. “you okay?”

you nod in response, ignoring the way the term of endearment sent flutters to your heart, and attempt an experimental rock of your hips, causing spencer’s head to whip up and meet your lust blown eyes with his own. he adjusts his hands on the sides of your thighs and starts helping you move up and down on his length, setting a brutally slow pace.

you rest your head and moan into the crook of his neck as he continues his movements, “spencer, please, more, i can take it.”

he still can’t believe what’s happening right now, all those days he spent thinking about you in the bullpen, at home, everywhere really, and here you were begging on top of him to fuck you good.

“you still think i don’t notice you?” he says into your ear, “i have dreamt about what you’d look like bouncing on my cock, and you are blowing any idea i had out of the water.”

you whimper as he continues, “and when i’m not thinking about ruining you, i am in awe at how you walk through life. you bring so much joy everywhere you go, it’s a blessing to be able to experience you.” he says through shaky breaths.

the praise goes straight to core, with some traveling to your heart again, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on before you unravel physically and emotionally.

his hands are guiding you up and down at a harder pace now, “so,” thrust. “you still think,” thrust, “i don’t notice you?” he thrusts into you once more and holds you down, making sure you’re looking directly at him, “it was never an option to brush past you, you are everything to me. i didn’t know how to show that without overwhelming you. i’m sorry.”

tears well up in your eyes again, spencer notices this time and presses a small kiss on your forehead. all your senses feel like they’re in overdrive, unable to comprehend anything right now. your skin feels like it’s on fire as he rolls your hips faster to meet his ruts.

“spence, i- i’m so close.” you whine desperately. 

he slips his hand between you both to rub your clit, “i know baby, i’ve got you. let go for me.”

his words were enough to break the dam, your second climax of the night hurling towards you. the white hot feeling overtook your whole body, shaking and clenching above him. your grip on him was threateningly vicious, probably leaving deep crescent marks in the nape of his shoulders. you wish the euphoria would last forever if it meant having spencer like this. as you came down from your high, the two of you were still moving together, slowly rocking your hips to meet each other. once you were grounded again, you pushed through the sensitivity in your core to rise up on his length, just barely leaving the tip in before you slid back down fast and hard, now focusing on spencer reaching his peak.

“oh jesus, fuck.” spencer moaned out brokenly.

“come on spence you can do it,” you taunted as you clenched down, “come inside me, make a mess of me please.” a rush of confidence flowed through as you whispered into his ear, and spencer held your hips to help you bounce faster on him.

spencer let out a loud groan as you felt the hot spurts coat your insides, he was leaving matching crescent marks on the sides of your hips as the ones on his shoulders, making sure all of him was left in you. feeling him soften inside, you remained on his lap with him sheathed in you. you both are breathing heavily, leaning back to hopefully give you both some relief from the sex filled air. looking around the car you realize that all the windows are fogged up and let out a tiny giggle.

“what’s so funny?” he looks up at you slightly amused and very out of breath.

“no it’s just, the windows are such a dead giveaway for what we just did in here.” 

“eh, i don’t really care what people think.”

“gasp, dr. reid wants to let the world know he has car sex with random girls?”

he leans in to bite your neck playfully, “random? did nothing i said during all that register for you?”

you yelp and attempt to play dumb, “actually i don’t remember a word, you might have to jog my memory. maybe even recreate the circumstances to help with cementing it. i read about situational memorization where certain scenarios are easily remembered when there’s a big event to anchor it to.”

he swears he could’ve melted on the spot at you explaining a concept you’d read about to him, “careful sweetheart, calling it a big event might inflate my ego a little too high.”

“i mean, i can tell it worked,” you tease as you feel him harden inside of you again, “so tell me genius, how many times does a scenario have to happen for me to remember the information?”

“i guess we’ll have to find out, don’t we?”

[luveline]

would you do a james fainting fic 🙏🙏

—James doesn’t like you, but he’ll come to your rescue. fem, 1.5k The office is hot. 

James dabs at his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Remus rubbing his eye. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

You look up from the paper on your desk. When you realise he isn’t asking you, you look away, your lips pressing into a tight line. James tries not to show he’s noticed. 

“Fine,” Remus mutters. “Fucked off ‘cos of the portal changing again. I hate these long passwords.” 

“Are you hot or is it just me?” 

You clear your throat. Usually, unless it’s Remus who’s spoken first or James has said something you find ridiculous, you won’t interrupt. “I’m really warm,” you say, “do you think I can open the window?” 

“Like you can reach it, shorts. I’ll do it.” James jumps up from his seat. Whether you’re short or not has nothing to do with it. James is taller, and he holds it against you diligently. 

He rounds your desks. The sun is worse on his skin than the heat alone. He can’t imagine how awful you must feel to have it on the side of your neck all day; in the half minute he stands there opening the window, the heat makes him queasy. 

He tugs the blinds down enough to shield you. It’ll help the entire office, he thinks. Not just you. If you thought he was doing something nice you’d only interrogate his motives until you both turned irate, and that’s the last thing anyone needs today. 

James isn’t sure how you and he ended up not liking one another. He’s never met anybody he didn’t like that wasn’t a massive wanker, and you are but you’re not, not really. When you first started he’d actually thought you were cute, and funny, if a little quiet. It didn’t matter because James is used to quiet people. But one thing turned to another, he’d used your mug without washing it, you’d left him off of the department emails for the quarter, then the snipping started. Constant nitpicking and bickering. You make it too easy, and so what if he likes how you look when you’re mad? It doesn’t hurt anybody to put your mug in the stockroom and your lunch on a different shelf. If anything, he’s keeping you vigilant. 

You don’t look vigilant. You don’t say anything as James sits back down, even though he hits his knee for the hundredth time on his desk. You usually love it. Sometimes when you’re tired he does it on purpose to give you a reason to keep going till 4:30. 

“Are you okay?” James asks finally, eyeing your face. “You look funnier than usual.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” He should stop being mean. You look like you’re gonna pass out. 

Remus peeks over his computer screen. “You don’t look well,” he says. 

“I’m fine.” You roll your seat back. 

James pushes back at the same time. “Wait a second–”

You’re standing before James can stop you, but he stands up anyways, and he takes your elbow into his hand though he shouldn’t. You give him the most peculiar look, almost like you’re enjoying his touch, just for those two seconds, before your chin dips down and your eyes squeeze closed, and all of you goes slack. 

James grabs you at the precipice of a bad fall. 

You’re still as a doll in his hands. He leans back with a quick sigh, his arm curling over the small of your back and upward. Your legs aren’t holding your weight, and you begin to slip. 

James could keep you up, he doesn’t go to the gym for nothing, but Remus rushes to his aid and pushes your chair back, helping him set you down on the floor. “What do we do?” Remus asks urgently. 

James puts his hand behind your head. You’re slack. When he touches your face, your skin is as hot as the heart of a furnace. 

“Can you get some water?” he asks Remus. 

James is peculiarly calm. He knows you’re just hot, it’s not uncommon for people to faint in high temperatures, and he’s honestly confident in his ability to look after you. It’s very sad to see you unwell, of course, and his heart is beating fast as he takes in your slack mouth. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, cupping your cheek gently. He gives your face a little shake, reluctant to be rough with you while you’re vulnerable, even if some force would help. “Hey, can you hear me? You’re okay, can you open your eyes?” 

Nothing. He leans down a touch to listen for your breath, and it’s fine, if a tad fast. 

Remus comes back with a cup of water and Sirius, which is predictable but not super helpful. “Jesus,” Sirius says. “I’ll call an ambulance.” 

“She’ll die of embarrassment,” Remus says. 

“She’s coming around,” James says, patting your cheek, thrilled when your eyelashes twitch. “I think we should go into the break room, is it empty? We can sit her on the sofa.” 

“You don’t think we should do something a bit more drastic?” Sirius asks. 

James feels rather defensive of you. Remus is right, you would die of embarrassment if they called an ambulance, and he’s sure you’re fine. You have to be fine. “She just fainted, it’s so hot in here. Go open a window in the break room and we’ll wait for her to come around.” 

Sirius glares playfully at being told what to do, but he goes, and Remus kneels down beside James with a cup of water. Someone from the front of the office asks if you’re alright, but James misses what they’re saying as you let out a whine. 

All of a sudden, his attention is fully yours. 

“Hey,” he murmurs. 

Your eyes open slowly, lashes heavy like they’re thick with honey. You take in a deep, deep breath through your nose, and you blink, and you turn into his hand where it’s holding your cheek with all the familiarity of a lover. “James,” you mumble. 

His stomach aches. He ignores it. “You okay? Can you look at me properly? I need to make sure you’re fine.” 

“I’m fine,” you say, face pressed to his hand. 

“Just look at me. Just for a second.” 

You pull yourself with clear annoyance from his hand and open your eyes properly. He can pinpoint the moment you realise who he is, how you're touching, and he can’t explain the pang he gets when you rush up and away from his touch. “Oh, fuck,” you mumble, dropping your head, your fingers to your forehead and your thumb covering your eyes. 

“Hey, don’t move around so much.” He continues to be soft. You might have realised who it is that’s trying to look after you, and you might not want him to, but he’ll be damned if he lets your bickering stop him from making sure you’re as okay as he’d claimed to everyone else. “Are you okay?” 

“Did I…” 

“You fainted. Don’t worry, I caught you. Take it easy, okay? Have this.” 

He presses the cup of water into your hand.

Somewhere behind him, Remus has moved away, and is seemingly fending off the masses of people coming to offer assistance. 

You see them looking at you behind him and cover your face. 

James shuffles forward quickly. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna let anyone see you. I’m saving this embarrassment all for myself. Please drink your water.” 

“Did everybody see me fall?” 

“They saw us engaged in a loving cwtch. It was very romantic.” 

You sip your water. In truth, you don’t look much better for passing out, and James can’t get the feeling of your face out of his hand. He wants to touch you again, his fingers hesitating an inch from your knee. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he says. “You don’t control the weather. Do you?” 

“Of course I don’t.” 

“Then why are you sorry? It was alright. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? We just want to make sure you’re okay. Sirius wanted to call an ambulance,” —you visibly baulk— “and I told him no, don’t worry. Then all the attention would be on you, and not me for my valiant rescue.” 

“Was I heavy?” you ask, your mumbling nearly friendly. 

“I can bench press two twenty.” 

“That… doesn’t mean anything to me.” 

“You’re nothing I couldn’t handle, shortcake. Do you think you can stand up? I’ll take you into the break room. You can lay down on the sofa.” 

You make a soft sound James won’t soon forget and put your hand out for his help. He doesn’t have to force you. You don’t have to ask. He helps you stand and keeps an arm behind your back, shielding you from the worried and curious gazes of your coworkers. 

You press your cheek to his chest. 

Remus looks at you both like you’ve been body-snatched, but it’s too late to wuss out now. 

[zylev-blog]

The batkids decide to hop on the trend.

Dick, walking as Steph records: We’re vigilantes. Of course we have to be over dramatic.

(Cut to Nightwing back flipping off of Wayne tower)

Tim: were vigilantes. Of course we have issues with caffeine.

(Cut to a video of Tim as Red Robin snoring while hanging from a grappling line. Batman can be seen in the background facepalming.)

———

Damian: No.

Tim: oh come on, Robin, we’re all doing it.

Damian: I refuse to partake in such idiotic videos.

Tim: (while Damian is still behind him) We’re vigilantes. Of course we get to punch people without getting in trouble.

Damian: actually—-

Tim: Robin, you’re supposed to play along—

Damian: I am not going to spread false information—

Steph, interrupting: well, I’m not one of Batman’s sons so he legally can’t yell at me.

Tim: wanna bet?

(Cut to Batman scolding all three of them about the improper use of force)

—-

Duke: we’re vigilantes. Of course we go to Batburger.

(Cut to Duke happily eating a Batburger meal, and playing with a Signal toy)

Duke: what? I’m allowed to have hobbies.

——

Steph: we’re vigilantes. Of course we can scare anyone we want to. Right, Black Bat?

Cass: (nod)

(The next series of videos is a compilation. The first is Superman being scared, followed by Green Lantern, Flash, Cyborg, Starfire, Dick, Tim, and a failed attempt to startle Wonder Woman. Cass isn’t even upset about not being able to scare the woman, she accepts the defeat with grace.)

——-

Dick, Tim, and Steph: we’re vigilantes.

Dick: I’ve gotten stranded on the moon. Don’t ask.

Tim: I got lost in hell.

Steph: I accidentally followed Green Lantern into space.

Tim: what? When?

Steph: turns out if you hug a Green Lantern really tightly, their life support on their ring will support you too

Dick: yknow, Batman shouldn’t find out about this-

(Cut to Batman’s lecture about the proper use of protective gear when going to space)

——

Dick: we’re vigilantes. Of course we’re best friends with all of the villains.

(Cut to Red Hood kicking down a door)

Jason: hey (bleep), you’re late to dinner

Dick: (currently tied to a chair and gagged)

Jason: hang on, I’ll help. (Shoots everyone and unties dick) Harley said she’s going to rampage if you’re not there in five minutes.

Dick: Blame these guys, not me! (Jumps through the nearest window, shattering it, and the sound of a grapple is heard)

——

Jason: I’m a crime lord

Dick: and I’m a vigilante

Jason: and you’re ruining my video, (bleep) off. (Shoves Dick out of the frame, ignoring Dick’s muttered cursing) now that we got the riffraff out, let me start over. (Brushes imaginary dirt from hands) I’m a crime lord. Of course Batman fights me every other day. I look forward to the day I can break his kneecaps.

Dick: (shocked) Hood!

Jason: what?

Dick: he’s your dad too!

Jason: yuck, don’t remind me.

——-

Duke: we’re vigilantes. Of course we know all of the gossip. (Very obviously looking around) like for example, Superman has the biggest crush on Bruce Wayne—

Clark, who was obviously eavesdropping: Nonononononono—- (trying to turn the camera off as he darts into the frame. There’s a flash of red, blue and yellow as Duke and Clark fight over the camera)

——

Tim: we’re vigilantes. Of course we visit other cities.

Wally, as Kid Flash: What the (bleep) are you doing in Central City?

Tim: I’m honestly not sure, it’s so bright that I think I’m blind.