#i can't stand it when i say something and then someone else makes an objection to it

[chatsukimi]

ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

gojo satoru rarely takes his glasses off. in his own world of infinity, you suppose real life is somewhat boring.

you couldn't be more wrong.

you're sitting across from gojo, a jacuzzi separating you. he has dipped his feet into the pool of clear water, the ripples cascading to your legs. noticing them, he looks up.

the first thing he thinks is woah.

the sight of you in a bathing suit stuns him temporarily, his heart clattering faster. but he musters up a cocky smile before strolling forward, putting on his black sunglasses, imitating one of those old men in sunnies staring down at you.

"arrived early, did we?"

you hum, craning your head up. your hand finds his neck, pulling his lips onto yours with a smile.

"you got me." your fingers catch his lightless specs and pull them from his ears. "let me see you."

you don't know what you're doing to him right now. he chuckles, rubbing his nape with a hint of awkwardness, when all he wants to do is take you in right there. he's never been in a relationship before, so he doesn't know if he can check you out so freely.

"you miss me so much?" he teases, though on the inside he's screaming.

goddammit, why did you take his glasses? he forces his gaze on your face- breathtaking, yes, but hardly the only thing that's begging his attention. he tries to keep his stare minimal, yet his lips part unconsciously. he stares at the only partial alternative to satiating his want: your lips.

noticing your boyfriend's gaze, a devilish idea pops into your head.

after geto and shoko arrive, the four of you talk casually in the relaxing hot water. gojo resumes his usual cocky self. an hour or so passes before you decide to switch to the living room.

"gojo, do you know where's the bathroom? i wanna shower."

wet feet plopping in tow through the winding hallways, you feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull. but as you enter, he stops by the door. you turn around, feigning oblivious.

"can you grab me a towel?"

ever eager to please, gojo quickly strides down the hallway for a towel, while you strip and enter the shower. when he comes back, listening to the sound of water, he waits by the door.

"gojo, pass the towel," you call.

he's so glad you don't have the six eyes right now, because he can feel his cursed energy spiralling. "w-what?"

"i said, pass me the towel."

his eyes widen. hovering over the doorknob, he swallows his other thoughts, shuffling into the bathroom, one feet after another, gaze pasted onto the floor.

your hand comes out, waving as though you have no idea where he is. he shoves the object into your hand before you step out, towel wrapped around you. with that, he immediately turns to leave, but not before noticing the devious little smile on your lips, possibly from his reaction.

fuck him, he thinks.

suddenly fingers enclose on his wrist, his limitless shut off from the distraction.

"can you dry my hair?" you say, polite, and in that soft tone you know he can't say no to.

his hands stagger over your head, gripping another towel, drying this part then the next. clunky. he's never touched someone else much before, and it shows.

what entertains you most, however, is the way he's forcing his eyes on his hand and nowhere else, focusing like it's his lifetime.

"done," he mumbles.

at last, you look up at him. he's wearing an uncharacteristically stern face, clearly holding himself back.

you ask, "do you want to say something?"

fuck. him. he lets out a shallow breath. how could you stand there batting your lashes like nothing's wrong, when you're making his hands run over you, yet not in the way he wants to.

"you demon woman. you know what you're doing."

you appear to be pondering, too, what you might be thinking. one of your hands tap at his chest, the space above his heart.

"tell me. what am i doing?"

his hand holds yours, keeping it against him. "you're tempting me."

you tilt your head to the side and you swear, he chokes a little. "and who's holding back, hmmm?"

...

2 years later

"gojo satoru, where have you put my towel??" your voice screeches from the shower.

leaning beside the bathroom door, the most annoyingly handsome man croons, "i've got it right here."

"give it to me. right now."

he shakes his head to himself. you still haven't learnt your lesson, it seems. he saunters over to the shower with the fluffy white towel in his grip. your hand pokes out. he clicks his tongue.

"baby, come on out."

an automatic groan claws its way from your throat and he chuckles, finding part of your unspoken shyness endearing.

"it's nothing that i haven't seen before," he adds, as though that'll make it better.

you feel your cheeks grow hot even with the excess steam. you know if he wanted to, he could step right into the shower and join you, but satoru seems to be in a lighter mood today.

regardless, you don't anticipate the effortless way the towel encases you as you step out. he wraps the cloth around you with care, the motion simultaneously tugging you closer to him. you let out a small gasp in comfort. to that, he snickers quietly by your ear, which provokes a half scowl from you. you look like a bunny in that oversized thing.

you mutter under your breath, "how did i get stuck with you..?"

he hums in response. "you're just too lucky."

he uses another towel to dry your hair. a thought courses through your brain- it's not like it matters much, but gojo satoru is really good at what he does. once he has experience in something, it's like the talent in his body simply activates, and the smooth sensation on your scalp dissipates.

this time, however, he doesn't announce his completion. instead, he tugs you casually against his chest. his hand skilfully cups your jaw, holding your gaze against his.

it's unfair, how the sight of his blue eyes send a seering level of need into your system. your hands find his shoulders to steady yourself and the towel begins to fall.

"wanna see you," he says, his stare roaming over you, unabashedly ravenous.

and finally, with experience, he does.

[saturnicos]

Giving a bracelet to them

With: Adam, Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Lucifer

ps:: reader's gender is not mentioned

. Charlie

She absolutely adores! Extra points if it have some decoration with rainbow.

She'll use all the time, only take off when goes to bed and when goes to take a bath — she is worried if she ends up breaking or losing the pieces, so try to be as careful as possible.

As she organizes and takes care of hotel paperwork she tends to feel stressed, and unconsciously looks at the bracelet, a smile forming and her spirits slightly picking up again. She's really happy with the gift.

"Wait, this's for me? Really? It's so pretty, thank you so very much!"

—

. Alastor

He... Definitely have it.

Like, don't get me wrong, he just not knows how really feel about it since he has never received a gift before from anyone, except from his mother.

Deep inside, he actually likes it! The color scheme matching with his clothes, and it isn't so much decorated and colorful; or how he would like to say, simple things are more pretty.

Alastor isn't using the bracelet frequently, most because he not like that type of accessories so much. He'll probably use when is far from you, like a way to remember of you and stuff (this man don't use phone not even if the world frozen), but in the most of the time the bracelet probably will be in the pocket of his coat.

"What do you have there, my dear? Oh, a bracelet, that's very interesting."

—

. Adam

He... Definitely have it/2.

But it's the opposite.

He's a bitch that will probably mock about it, but will quickly change when you feel upset and try to leave him alone, saying something like "Just joking, Sugartits/Hunk, I actually liked that, give me".

He'll use ALL the time, except when he's going to the extermination.

He will 100% brag about the bracelet to anyone when he gets the chance, saying how you spent your time making gifts for him (he's a complete idiot that loved this thing, but will never admit bc high ego lol).

Lute can't stand him talking about this damn accessory anymore, please, she begs you not to give him anything else.

TOTALLY extra points if it has a guitar pendant.

"Of course you make it for me, after all, you are madly in love with me"

—

. Angel Dust

Now, I think it's important to point out that Angel would act a lot more like Anthony with his S/O.

Using this as a base, he'll be SO happy receiving a gift from you. Obviously, he'll make some dirty joke about it, but deep down he wonders why he received it if it's not a specific date.

This poor boy is emotionally broken, little acts like this make him feel so moved and loved ☹️

Every time that him have a breakdown and isolates himself, Fat Nuggets comfort him, laying next to him and gently plays with the bracelet (or if he isn't using, Fat Nuggets will pick it up and take it to him, as if knowing it is an object of comfort).

"A gift? For me? You're so kind, baby~."

—

. Lucifer

Listen to me: this man would probably feel so much like crying — with joy — and nothing convinces me otherwise.

He'd passed the lasts seven years alone, without any love or compassion, having you in his life it's a great gift for him. Now, receive a gift from someone that he considers his greatest gift? God-

He would also be one of the will use all the time. Seriously, this guy probably don't take it off in any occasion, it's a regular reminder that there is someone else besides Charlie who loves him.

He's so grateful to have you.

Later, he'll make matching necklaces with duck pendants for you, he thinks that's a lovely way to say thanks :)

"What is this, sweetie? Oh... I'll use, that's so beautiful, thank you a lot."

Thank you for read !! I'm so sorry if this is ooc, but I hope it was pleasant anyway :)

[the-offside-rule]

Daniel Ricciardo (RB Visa) - Lover

Requested: yes

Swift Series

Prompt: Daniel and international popstar Y/n accidentally get married in Vegas

Warnings: nope

Daniel woke up in his hotel room with a pounding headache, groaning as he tried to open his eyes but being blinded by the sun coming through the windows each time. He turned around, cursing to himself before his eyes widened. Y/n, the Y/n lay beside him, in just a bra. While they had met several times before and hung out with similar people, this was the last person he expected to see in his bed the morning after a race weekend. He began questioning what had happened? What had he done? Or more importantly, who had he done? Whilst Daniel sat thinking about what to say to her when she woke up, he ultimately decided to order room service and go to the bathroom to actually think.....and maybe throw up.

Y/n was awoken by a door closing quite loudly. She jumped up, looking around, her eyes had grown wife as she realised that she wasn't asleep in her room, she was in someone else's. She heard footsteps coming and turned to see who it was. "Uh... morning?" Daniel croaked, his voice scratchy from the combination of dehydration and excessive partying. Y/n grabbed the bed covers and pulled them up over her chest. "What the fuck happened?" She mumbled to herself. "Yeah, I said the same thing."

Daniel scratched his head, replying, "I wish I knew. It's all a bit of a blur." Suddenly, his eyes widened as he noticed a shiny object on his finger. "You don't think this would have anything to do with it?" He lifted his hand to show Y/n, before she looked down, spotting the matching ring. "I got married in Vegas." She was so unbelievably angry with herself. Since she was a child she dreamed of this big extravagant wedding and now she just got married in Vegas?

She looked over to Daniel as he burst into laughter. "Well, you can't get rid of me now." Daniel chuckled, his Australian accent making the situation even more absurd. "Daniel, this is not funny, I'm going to get into so much shit!" Y/n said. Daniel turned to open his big bottle of champagne as Y/n continued her rant. "You're having champagne? At this time?" Daniel walked over to the bed with a glass and sat down, handing it to her and pouring her a glass. "Why are we still here? We should go get divorced!" Y/n implored him. "You need to know where you got married first." Daniel replied, drinking the champagne from the bottle as Y/n looked on. She downed the glass quickly before grabbing the bottle from Daniel. "I need more than a glass." She mumbled, amking Daniel laugh. "I don't know why you're so upset, I'd make a great husband."

"Daniel, can we just think about what happened and then we'll get down to the details of whether or not you're a good husband?" Daniel nodded before Y/n began to think. "So chief, what happened last night?" Daniel asked, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing ache. Y/n shook her head, her expression mirroring his confusion. "I don't really remember much. We were at that bar, right?" Daniel nodded slowly, bits and pieces of their escapades starting to trickle back into his consciousness. "Yeah, we were celebrating... something." He lifted the champagne tp his lips once more before handing it over to Y/n. She frowned, trying to recall the reason behind their impromptu celebration. "Was it the points you scored? Maybe my new song got number one?"

"Maybe we just got fucking wasted." Daniel shrugged, before Y/n slapped his bare chest, making him wince in pain. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry." Y/n said. "I vaguely recall a dance-off and a questionable karaoke rendition of 'I Will Survive.'" She ran her fingers through her hair. "Oh, great," Daniel chuckled. "Classic Vegas moves." As she continued on with the possibilities, Daniel looked at the crumpled looking paper on the night stand. Daniel unfolded it tentatively, his heart sinking as he read the words scrawled across the page: Marriage Certificate - Daniel Ricciardo & Y/n Y/l/n - Las Vegas, Nevada.

Y/n's hand flew to her forehead as the reality of their situation sunk in. "Oh my God... we actually got married." Daniel let out a chuckle laugh, his mind oscillating between disbelief and amusement. "I know. I would have actually gotten you a nice ring. Maybe an expensive one?" Y/n slapped his chest again. "Yeah, it's still sore when you do that."

"Sorry, but you need to stop joking about this. It's serious!" She said. "It's really not. No one even knows." She looked to him. "We were clubbing with other drivers, surely one of them were there. Daniel went to turn on his phone, but it was dead. "Must have been to occupied to charge my phone." Daniel joked. "Yeah, getting married." Y/n replied, charging her phone. "I was thinking of starting our honeymoon." He gasped. "Are we going to have a baby Ricciardo?"

"No!" Daniel arched a brow. "Excuse me, but you would be lucky to have a child with my genes." He said, pretending to be hurt. "Yeah, and your humour." She rolled her eyes. "See? Dream team." They sat in silence for a few minutes. She expected a call from her manager at any given second. He was going to kill her. Daniel noticed how tense she was getting and turned to Y/n, holding out his hand. "Well, at least we've got one epic story for the grandkids." Y/n chuckled, taking his hand. "Yep, and a marriage certificate to prove it."

"If our managers don't call us in the next hour, they won't know and I say we go get divorced." Y/n thought about it for a moment. "I mean, if they don't know why bother? The point of us divorcing is so they get off our backs. Plus, it's broad daylight. If people see us going to the Chapel, people will find out." Daniel nodded. "So we're staying married?" Y/n smiled. "Of course. You're like the best husband I could have asked for." Daniel squeezed her hand. "Well, I say we head to the airport and get out of here." Daniel suggested, getting up. "Or we could enjoy our honeymoon with some movies?" He chuckled and sat back down, grabbing the remote control and turning Netflix on. "Sounds good. Can I?" Y/n nodded, allowing Daniel to wrap an arm around her as she leaned into him. "You're coming to Abu Dhabi, though." Daniel said. "Duh. You're going to go to the last race without your wife?"

[literaila]

worth

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: the past comes back to haunt you, as it usually does.

warnings: angst, allusions to disassociation, hurt/comfort, mama is sad

last part | next part

*

year five.

"wait for me," satoru tells megumi, as soon as he starts walking away. 

you're watching as megumi hangs his head, looking like he'd failed at his one objective--escaping--and turns around, glaring at satoru. 

you've all been out shopping for the past two hours. getting the kids new clothes, shoes, whatever else satoru swears they need... 

honestly, he's kind of cute running around like a maniac from store to store. showing tsumiki a cute dress she could wear, or teasing megumi into trying on a sweatshirt that matches his. 

it's quite possibly the only reason you haven't complained. 

or pointed out that both of the kids are on the verge of whining all the way home. or that he doesn't need to spend 100,000 yen to make them happy. 

"hurry up," megumi tells the man, basically growling at him. 

satoru grins and ruffles his hair, resting a hand on his back as the two of them begin to navigate through the crowd. mostly likely, neither of them knows where they're going. 

you're not even sure where a bathroom is in this district. 

"we'll wait here," you call out, nudging tsumiki. satoru turns briefly to give you a little peace sign, a little grin, and then he murmurs something to megumi you can't hear and they're both gone. 

you're a little worried about them being alone together in this state but you ignore it.

"guess it's just you and me, miki," you say to the little girl at your side. she beams up at you, nodding. "do you want to sit down? how do the shoes feel?" 

"mmm," she looks down, blinking at the sparkly shoes satoru insisted were perfect for her. "they're rubbing at my ankles a little." 

"we can get some new socks, too. that should help. c'mon, i think there's a bench over there." 

she grabs your hand as you begin towards the bench, humming something under her breath. 

you look down to smile at her and don't notice the person walking by, accidentally bumping into them. "oh, i'm sorry, excuse us--" you turn and your entire body lurches away from you. 

for a brief moment, you're not yourself. your conscious moves in an instant, ready to defend itself from everything, anything. you're not yourself, but someone else. someone you used to know very well. 

"i--" you breathe, freezing at the person in front of you. 

tsumiki pulls on your hand a little, confused when you stop suddenly. she looks to the woman standing in front of you, with a bizarre look on her face, and then tsumiki's brown eyes go back to you, her face riddled with curiosity. 

"y/n?"

i don't remember a lot about her but i remember hugging her when she got home from work, and the way she said my name-- 

you want to forget it all. 

it's clear now, several years later, that you would rather forget everything about her--about this woman standing in front of you, basically a reflection of yourself--than have to do this all over again. then have to face the memories of what she did to you. then put that child through any of it. 

"hi--hey," you say because you have to. 

here's the thing about seeing your mom for the first time in a decade: you can't just pretend you didn't. 

you'd like to turn right around and walk away. you'd like to pretend that you've grown sometime in the past nine years, that you've turned into someone who doesn't need to stay and talk to her. you'd like to think that you're someone who can cut her right out of your life and feel all of the better for it. 

but you're not. 

you can't run away from your mother. you can't apologize for bumping into her and turn around with tsumiki's hand in yours and forget about it. actually, you can't even move right now. 

because there's still this girl inside of you.

there's still this child, a teenager who tried so desperately to earn the approval of this woman and never got it. who tried so hard to be everything that this woman wanted, but could never try enough. 

and she's clinging to your chest right now, breathing into your skin like a toxin, digging her nails into your heart and begging you to try again. telling you that you've got another shot, a chance she couldn't have--

so you can't leave now. not when you owe it to her, to yourself to try, to trick yourself into believing that it was just a fault of your own, that your childhood memories are only the result of some flaws you've already fixed. 

you can't walk away when your mind is stuck on her, her, and--tsumiki. 

your broken eyes turn to her.

your little girl who is standing right beside you, waiting for your next move. if you told her to run, she would. if you told her to stay by your side and say nothing, to hide behind you, she would. she wouldn't even ask you what was going on. 

but for no reason at all, you can't tell tsumiki anything. you can't whisper to her that it's fine, that everything is fine. you can't introduce her or drag her away. 

you can't do anything and it's never felt worse. 

"i thought that was you," your mother says, tilting her head at you. she's staring like this is just a casual bump in. like you're colleagues who haven't seen each other since she went on vacation. "you look... grown." 

you feel naive. there's nothing you can say to this woman to prove to her that you're better than you were. that you're far too good for her.

"thanks," you whisper, even though you know it's not a compliment. it's an instinct to appeal to her. to be polite and perfect.

your mom clasps her hands together. if you were looking at her--which you're not, you wouldn't dare--you might be able to tell that she's uncomfortable with you being there. almost surprised. 

maybe she just assumed that you'd die as soon as you left the comfort of your childhood home. maybe she thought that they would've kicked you out of jujutsu high a day after you arrived, leaving you to starve on the street just like she did. 

"well, how are you?" 

you swallow. "i'm good." 

she nods, and then she looks to your side and finally notices tsumiki there. 

tsumiki, with her precious face, her beautiful brown eyes, and carefully organized hair. 

you're not sure what your mother sees when she looks at her.

you wish more than anything that you could hide her. you don't want your mom's--you don't want this woman's eyes on her. you don't want her to say a single word to your daughter. 

"and who's this?" 

but you can't just send her away. you have no idea where satoru went, and tsumiki can't walk around on her own. not right now, not when you're so preoccupied. 

you just can't walk away. 

tsumiki holds her hand out, just like you taught her. "i'm tsumiki fushiguro." 

"it's nice to meet you," your mother answers, shaking her hand warily like she's certain that she might get an infection from tsumiki's skin. and then she looks at you, not daring to ask what she wants to.

you clench your jaw, wanting to slap her hand away from tsumiki. 

you should've put up a barrier a minute ago. the only possible block between you and a woman who doesn't deserve the pleasure of meeting tsumiki. who deserves no explanations from you. 

but your cursed energy is frozen in place, and you know that if you shut yourself in, you'll never get back out. 

"my daughter," you add, a bit louder now. 

your mom's eyebrows raise immediately and she pauses, looking between the two of you, searching for some useless resemblance. like it isn't obvious that you share a bond, just from the way your hands are intertwined. like it's not obvious that you braided tsumiki's hair, or helped her pick out the shoes she's wearing. 

like it might not be true. 

still, she asks tsumiki, "how old are you?" 

"twelve." 

and you know where her mind goes immediately. thinking that it can't be possible. she knew you when you were twelve, and you certainly weren't pregnant with the little girl standing beside you. you certainly weren't developing any maternal skills locked away in your room, with only the curse that liked to hide in the walls to teach you.

it brings that resentment to the surface of your core, threatening to burst through your skin. you feel suddenly so angry you can't bear it. 

and you're not that girl anymore, you realize. you haven't been since you met nanami and haibara and satoru. 

since you learned that you were only a child and not a trophy that needed to live up to its name. 

"well," your mom sighs, shaking her head. "i can't say this is what i expected." 

"excuse me?" 

"really, what do you know about children, y/n? don't you think you're a little young?" 

tsumiki looks up at you with a frown, about to ask what she means when you stop her. 

you squeeze her hand and look away, into the eyes of the woman who created you--who has that string of biology she just judged you and tsumiki for lacking--and still didn't care. 

she is nothing if not the proof that dna means absolutely nothing. 

"what do you know about children, mom?" you repeat, rhetorically. "at least i know that a ten-year-old shouldn't spend every hour of the day locked in their room, waiting for someone to come let them out." 

"i'm shocked that you--" 

"at least i know that a child is a gift and not a toy to hide away when you get bored of it." 

your mom scoffs. "i can't believe this--"

"neither can i," you say and look to your daughter, who's got wide brown eyes and a confused sort of fear on her face. she doesn't need to hear anything else you have to say to this woman. you smile at her, soft as ever. "go look for dad, okay? he shouldn't be far." 

it's been five minutes, and satoru's probably right around the corner, you rationalize. he's going to come pick up tsumiki and rescue you any second now. 

tsumiki nods immediately, letting go of your hand. she turns to go do what you said, but before she can there's a strong hand on your shoulder, a body right beside yours, and you almost gasp in relief. 

"found him," tsumiki tells you, softly. 

you turn to satoru, wanting to beg him to carry you away from her, to get you away from her--but the words won't come. you're too struck by the view of his face, and the knowledge that when you finally escape from this, he's going to be right there. 

satoru was there the first time, and he'll linger for the second. 

his shaded eyes look back at you, observing for a second, reading your mind, and then he turns. 

megumi is trailing at his side, holding a shopping bag. he looks between this stranger and you, a cautious look on his face. 

tsumiki is telling him something without any words. 

"hello," satoru says, smoothly, breaking the silence. "i don't believe we've met. do you know y/n?" 

your mother frowns, scoffing. "i'm her mother." 

you can see it when satoru reels back, looking between the two of you for a moment, an intense realization on his face. 

maybe he can see the resemblance. the face that might be your own in just a few years. 

or maybe, finally, he can feel the horrors of being raised by her. all of the things you've never dared to tell him. 

you're pleading satoru for something with your eyes but you're not even sure what.

"there's another one?" your mom asks, almost disgusted, as satoru processes. "how old are you?" 

megumi frowns. he walks over to tsumiki, who's already picked up your hand, and asks you: "this is your mom?" 

you nod at him, relieved more than anything that he's there, with the rest of you. and that if you can't explain, satoru will handle it. 

megumi considers it for a second. "are you sure?" 

and you want to laugh so abruptly that it shocks you. you want to grab him by the face and kiss all across his cheeks. 

tsumiki is already smiling at you like she knows this. her grip is strong against yours.

satoru smiles at your mom, a vicious ugly thing. "did you need something from her?" 

"i--no, we just ran into each other," she tells him, seemingly confused by his entire presence. she looks at you. "who is he? another child of yours?" 

satoru licks his lips. "not quite." 

you're about to answer when he grabs your empty hand, shaking his head. "i don't think there's anything y/n needs to say to you," he tells her, coldly. then he looks at you. "is there?" 

"no," you whisper, coveting the feeling of his hand in yours. the two children at your side, who know what it's like to be loved. megumi and tsumiki, who will never feel unwanted, as long as you have a say in it. 

satoru nods, guffly, and turns. "it was a pleasure to meet you," he says, and he moves all of you away. you can almost feel it when he shields the three of you from the rest of the world.

with his hand in yours, the other in tsumiki's, and megumi on the other side of her, satoru leads you all away from her. 

and you let him. because the three of them are more of a family--a better, safer one--than that woman ever was. 

you can't thank them all for being there, being yours, in this moment, but you will. 

at least you know that. 

*

satoru has been watching you for hours. 

since you all got home and the kids' questions began. 

that was your mom? 

yes. 

why haven't we met her before? 

i haven't seen her in a long time. 

was she upset? 

yes. 

why? 

because i'm happier than she thought i'd be, you said, i have a better family. 

are we going to see her again? 

absolutely not. 

after that, the two of them quieted. satoru could tell that they had more questions, that megumi was curious and tsumiki was worried--but neither of them continued. 

it was almost unspoken that you couldn't take much more. that you needed a break from it, even if you wouldn't say. so they both moved on, resuming their usual antics and talking about the clothes they got, when and where they'd wear them. 

well, mostly tsumiki. but megumi entertained her thoughts for a while at least. 

satoru just watched you. the tiny break within your eyes, the gap between you and the rest of the world. you've remained all the same since you got home. cursed energy small, unchanging. your face in one position like it'll kill you to move it. 

satoru can't stand it, but he doesn't want to intrude. he doesn't want you to push him away too. 

so he only sat there, trying to fill your role (which was impossible) at the dinner table. 

and several hours later, after dinner, after space, satoru still hasn't brought it up. 

but he doesn't get the chance to. because as soon as you've put both of them to bed--insisting on tucking them in and talking to them both separately tonight, like you're making up for something--you're sneaking into satoru's room. 

and he's waiting like he always is. his arms are wide open when you walk into the room, and there's not a moment of hesitation before you fall into them. you don't blink or breathe before you're right against him, keeping yourself up with nothing more than blood and bone. 

satoru hugs you close to him, trying to let everything he feels go, just for you. 

(because he's just angry. 

he's angry that she showed up and ruined your day. he's angry that he wasn't there to keep it from happening. he's angry that when he walked over he could tell there was something wrong because you were frozen--because you were almost barren. no cursed energy, no expression. nothing to draw him to you like usual. 

and he's so angry that he can't do anything to fix it. 

so angry that being the strongest sorcerer of the modern age means nothing when he really needs it to. 

satoru isn't a person who hates. he never hated the people who attempted to tie him down as a kid so he couldn't escape observation. he didn't hate toji when he cut him through the throat. he didn't hate suguru for leaving, or yaga for asking why he didn't stop him. 

he doesn't hate. 

but he hates her.

for taking your face and twisting it around. for stealing your childhood and pretending like she didn't. for holding your precious heart in her hands and acting like it was nothing of value.

he hates her.) 

you both sit there, rocking back and forth, sinking together for a moment. 

and then you sniff, and satoru closes his eyes against your head, not sure what to say to make it all better. 

what he can do to erase this feeling from your body. what he can do to prove to you that you're worth so much more. 

"do you think i'm a good mom?" you whisper to him, as he moves back and forth. 

his heart pauses, needing a moment to consider this. to not feel a fire in his soul at the very suggestion. 

satoru pulls back, frowning. and he makes sure that your eyes are on his when he says, "there's not a person in the world who could take better care of them than you do," he swears, feeling like it's the most honest thing he's ever said. 

he wants to brand the words into your skin just so you never ask such a ridiculous question again. 

"thank you," you say, voice breaking, and satoru wipes the tears falling down your cheeks away. each one a different memory, a terrible moment where someone showed you that you didn't matter. 

and when they continue to fall, satoru continues to wipe them away. 

"do you want to talk about it?" he asks, almost hesitating. he's not sure that he can handle hearing about it--but he would if you needed him to. 

"not tonight," you whisper and fall against him again. 

satoru holds you close. 

and he swears, to whoever is listening, that he'll love you enough to make up for that woman. he'll love you enough to make up for everything.

he loves you enough to be sure of it. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[bunny-jpeg]

my little mechanic

torger "toto" wolff

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), possessive old man toto, pretty young thing reader, missionary, breeding/pregnancy, merchanic!reader, hickies/bruises,

bunny says: i have no words, no apologies. (it is my birthday so you can't get mad!)

well weren't you just the cutest little mechanic for mercedes. in your coveralls and backwards hat as you quickly changed tires in the middle of a race or work on them after the race.

you were always running around, lifting all matter of objects around from point a to point b. it made it quite hard for toto to really get a good look at you.

the first time you formally met you were standing in the paddock, with your hands on your hips and your foot nervously tapping. your forehead was scrunched up.

you weren't even looking at him when he spoke to you. you said, "yes, uh-huh. listen, i need to find some parts." then you looked up at him and your mouth went agape, "oh, mister wolff! i'm so sorry!!"

your expression melted into something much cuter. it made toto smile as he said, "well it's good to know you are dedicated to making this team run efficiently." then held out his hand.

you shook it eagerly and he smiled at you. he was going to have to keep an eye on you, little one.

-

it wasn't hard to get you into his life. he seemed to linger around a little more, his hand often grazed your lower back. he leaned in when he was listening to you. anytime you thought about the crush you were developing for him, it made you cover your face in shame.

you couldn't be with someone in upper management!

but toto didn't care, the thought never crossed his mind. who were they to judge? you'd make a great wife and mother, with the amount of strength you carried with you, you could easily care for his kleine kinder.

but no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from him for the sake of your career, toto saw it as an opportunity to get closer. to corner you before he struck.

the first time he kissed you, he had you backed up against one of the cars. no one else was around and he leaned in to press a sweet kiss against you. later that night you'd end up in bed with him, your pussy getting fucked out by a man two times your age.

he promised that he wore a condom, "don't want to cut your career short there, kleiner."

your life soon turned into a sort of routine. you always started in a new city and country for the race, you did your checks then you went back to the hotel with toto.

you tried to be quickly about shuffling in and out of cars for the sake of what people would say. but not toto, he was almost gleeful that he got to walk around the paddock with his little mechanic.

the size gap between you two was rather large. he almost overshadowed you. he seemed to always take charge in that way, you were kept safe in his shadow. you could hold onto him and he'd never let you go.

"you are so beautiful." he said as kissed from your wrist to your shoulder then took you in his arms. nose dipped into the crook of your neck, "smell good too."

you chuckled, "yeah, i used your things. i knew you wouldn't like the smell of grease and sweat." you combed your fingers through his dark hair.

"mmm, not if it's you. i think you smell good all the time." he swayed you from side to side and your heart raced, "you did so good today, mein kleiner mechaniker."

my little mechanic.

you led him to the bed. he watched you slowly take off your casual clothes, he particularly enjoyed the mismatched pair of bra and panties. that was very cute. pink sports bra with cat printed underwear.

he placed both hands on our ass and brushed his clothed cock against your front, "mmm, looks good." he chuckled before he pulled you in for a soft kiss.

your core throbbed as you kissed him. his face in your hands as he grabbed your ass, the fleshed over spilled in his hands as he massaged the cheeks. you felt so good.

when you pulled away, you started to undo his belt.

"you like that, little one?" he asked as he watched you get the expensive leather belt off from around his waist.

your heart was in your throat as you worked on getting the crisp white button up off his shoulders, exposing his toned body to you. this man really didn't look like he was old enough to be your father. there were lines in his face and a crinkle when he smiled. but he still took care of himself, and had the stamina like a machine.

you stood in front of him, almost naked. he took your bra off and then leaned down to pull your underwear down your thighs. he kissed the top of your pussy and you made a small noise.

"always so sensitive." he remarked as you stepped out of the underwear. he tossed it away to be (hopefully) found later. once you were both naked, toto felt the possessiveness rise up in his gut.

he leaned in and asked, "has anyone else touched you since me?"

you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself up against him. you pouted at him and shook your head. no one else, only him.

he cupped your behind and kissed the shell of your ear, "good girl." then took you by the hand and got you into bed, "i don't want anyone else touching my braves mädchen." his lips against your heated skin made you feel great.

you wrapped your legs around his as you made out with him. your nails dug into his back. he loved when those blunt nails of yours dug into his back.

he also loved that you weren't supermodel thin. sure the ladies were lovely, but there was a strength to you. toto knew that he could be a little rougher with his angel because you had your fair shares of bruises already.

you held onto him tightly and made out with deeply as you felt the stutter in your core from the anticipation of having sex with him. you could feel his leaky cock up against your thigh, it was fully hard and precum dribbled out of it like a leaky tap.

"please, toto." you mumbled with your lips close to him. you felt so hot all over, it combed through you like an excited rush. he still smell like the cologne he wore all day.

his grip was strong as he almost slid his cock into you with ease. you could feel the twist in your gut from the excitement. the kisses got heavier as his large hands massaged your breasts.

his calloused fingers grabbed the flesh, his rough palms were scratchy against your nipples which made you tense up. the noise you made was a dragged out moan that only made your lover excited.

"if your little mechanics saw you right now." he chuckled with lust in his tone, "they saw you under me, i wonder if they'd watch me fuck you. they are in their cheap shared hotel rooms, while you get the top floor and the big bed. i wonder if they'd be jealous of my special attention."

you whined and arched your back a little, "you bastard, stop talking about my co-workers!" you scratched more lines into his back which only made the older man more excited.

"are what's wrong, mein kleiner mechaniker? you don't like to talk about work in the bedroom?" there was a teasing edge to his voice as he kept the tip of his cock right up against your pussy lips.

"i only want to think about you." you whined, "not the stupid cars or the stupider drivers who make my life hell!" you back arched once more with need. you wanted to FUCK, not have him ramble about formula one!

he laughed before he kissed you at the line of your jaw, "that's what i like to hear. maybe you should just stay with me and never think about work again?"

he had more than enough money to fund your little escape from the workforce. you saw the headline in the break room that he was making over sixteen million euros a year.

"what if you get bored of me?" you asked.

he kissed along our jaw once more, "no, no. i could never. i could never abandon the mother of my children, the wife i hold so dear. you were made for me, i would've waited a lifetime for you." he got out of your octopus grasp and grabbed a pillow nearby to put under your hips.

"please, toto." you said softly, the heat was heavy in your cheeks as you watched him get between your legs. he was divine, a perfect man for you. usually it would be a little suspicious for such an older man to go after a mechanic like you, but as your stomach did somersaults you pushed the thoughts into the back of your mind.

"i know, i know." he purred as he guided his cock into your sweet pussy. he watched your facial expressions as he sank himself into you. it felt amazing.

you were tight enough around him that it almost took the wind out of his chest, but he still managed to fit all seven and a half inches inside of you. he held onto you by the middle and started to pull you up and down his cock.

you held onto the pillow behind your head for some leverage as your lover used your body to his satisfaction. but don't worry, his little mechanic doesn't go without.

he continued to move you up and down his cock. sweat on his back and in his hairline as he rocked his cock up inside of you. it was nestled between your legs, where it belonged.

his beautiful little mechanic. there were better things for you to be doing than running around with car parts. instead of greasy coveralls, he pictured you in a cute sundress and instead of hauling your bag of tools, you had a lovely diaper bag. and instead of cars you were chasing, you were trying to make sure you firstborn with toto wasn't walking off too far.

"i want you." he said, "i want you for the rest of my days. i want you to have my children." call him a possessive old man for wanting to knock up someone young enough to be his daughter. but he believed you were more than capable to make your own choices! you were a mechanic, they don't give out those licenses to anyone.

smart, reliable and perfect to be his little wife. he liked when they were smaller than him, and there was almost a foot difference between you two.

his cock twitched inside of you at the thought of you being perfect at carrying his large babies. he'd make sure you were okay, anything for his beautiful girl.

the thrusts became faster as you felt his cock nudge against the back of your pussy. you felt full of him and it made the room fall into a haze. the heat between you two are palpable.

"toto."

"i got you, my little one. just let me fuck you." his voice was low as he watched you squirm a little under his touch. you kept your legs wrapped around him as he moved against you.

his hands felt comfortable at your middle, the soft skin against his fingers. he felt a swell of pride that he was fucking the most perfect woman in the world. a real world aphrodite.

you moaned and whimpered while he panted heavily against your skin. you both rutted together like animals and you felt the weight of his cock deep in your pussy. you wanted to bite in his strong shoulder, mark him.

but, if you marked him. he'd mark you return.

his cock bullied your insides, you whimpered and whined like a good little slut. who would've known the most stubborn mechanic would make for such a good little fuck toy?

"beautiful." he groaned. he loved the feeling of your wet pussy as he continued to fuck you. you were his perfect little girl, his future wife. god, the thought of you getting married to him felt like a dream come true.

he felt up your breasts once more, played with your nipples a little rougher than normal. he wanted to see if he could leave a few bruises on the beautiful skin.

you whimpered, "toto! ah! that hurts!"

he chuckled before he kissed your warm cheek, "no pain, no gain. plus, i like when i see your bruises from our fucking." his kisses lingered, "i like when you look like mine."

as if the chubby wolff brat you'd be carrying for nine months wasn't enough of a mark on you.

"then can i leave them on you?" you asked, your voice was out of breath from the hard fucking.

he chuckled and kissed you delicately, a far cry from the pace he was using. he replied, "of course, you carry my mark, i carry yours. it's only fair."

then you bit in his shoulder, your sucked on the bruise to leave is dark. the pace between you two started to stagger, the orgasm bliss was flooding your head as you headed towards orgasm.

the thump of your heart in your chest only intensified when he grabbed onto you a little tighter. with a few more heavy strokes of his cock, you climaxed. you gripped onto his shoulders and pressed a searing kiss on his collarbone as you felt the height of your orgasmic bliss!

this only drove toto further as he practically had you bent in half so he could bully his cock in your sweet cunt. time seemed to melt away, but the heightened feeling in his body remained. with a loud groan and a tenseness in his jaw, he finished inside of you.

"lovely girl." he purred as he started to slow down, eventually stopping. it briefly aroused him that his cum was shot into the back of your womb. you'd keep it safe.

he pulled out and pulled you into a hot kiss as he laid beside you. you got nestled under the covers and let your lover roam his large hands around you soft body.

"perfekt, mein kleiner mechaniker."

it wouldn't take much for you to retire before the career even really started. toto simply told you that you couldn't lifting all that heavy equipment when you were pregnant with his child.

the sight of you in your coveralls with you belly poking out was a very sweet idea. the last day you wore them, he had a sneaking suspicion that you were already carrying his brood. because you jumped back when he placed a large hand on your middle.

"you'll fill them out nicely." he joked before he kissed you on the temple. you just had to stay home with his children, be the wife he knew you could be. and at your age there were many chances for there to be a many children in your future.

by the end of the following year, you were with your toto. you were excited to see your old teammates, but this time you had a little surprise for them. you had traded your messy coveralls to a cute sundress with printed daisies on it.

you smiled when you saw them and toto rubbed your lower back. he had to keep you close by, you were almost at the third trimester of your pregnancy. you needed to be careful.

you smiled up at your husband and leaned in for a soft kiss. you'll teach your kids all about engines and car parts when they get older. you were a better fit as mrs. wolff than as any mechanic.

[witherby]

yknow, i bet jj's had to really stay on top of his first-aid skills with how cavalier punchline is about injuring herself. like, joker isn't going to handle any of that, but someone will still need to pick glass out of her feet or set a bone in place. and i don't think jj would trust anyone else to do it

Extremely true! JJ's work with his custom first aid kit he cobbled together would blow professional EMTs out of the water.

Punchline and JJ: Health Screening

Masterlist is Here!

⚠️ This is a violence and injury-heavy series. Graphic descriptions of harm may apply. ⚠️

Getting access to you is near-impossible. Not only is Tim JJ refusing to allow himself to be separated from you for anything other than a bathroom break, nobody is even allowed to touch you without him threatening to throw a fit. It causes everyone tremendous headaches though they do their best not to show it.

JJ knows, though. He didn't come here willingly and that's everybody's problem. You're just happy to hang around your brother regardless of location.

When food is delivered, JJ always eats some first to make sure it isn't poisoned, something everyone has promised him time and time again they would never do, before giving you your portion.

When someone tries to visit and talk with them, JJ stands next to the door with his fists clenched and a thin, threatening smile on his face to dissuade them from entering.

When a health check is requested, JJ rattles off his and your most important conditions, allergies, and insists on the equipment being left behind so he can run the tests himself and report anything else back. That one causes some friction, but your brother is steadfast that you will not be poked and prodded by strangers.

"I can't even feel it, JJ," you huff, sitting on the floor while your brother is behind you on the bed and braiding your hair. The ends are in need of a trim, but getting any sharp object without sneaking out of the cell to steal one is impossible. "So what if they want some blood? I've lost more playing the handstand game with you."

"That's because you decided to do a handstand over a pile of broken glass."

"I had sparkly hands!!" You laugh. "They were so pretty!"

Your brother rolls his eyes but his smile is fond. "It took three hours to pick all the shards out. Just because you can do those things doesn't mean you should."

"Yeah yeah, I know..." You look down at your fingers, slightly crooked in some places and badly scarred in others. You don't tell JJ that sometimes feeling pretty overrides your desire to have a fully-functioning body. You aren't sure you need to; he's so perceptive sometimes you don't need to say anything at all for him to understand what you really want. You think that's part of the reason why he learned to style your hair.

"Alright. Twin braids, done and done!" JJ presses his hands on both sides of your head and gently shakes it. You bob around, laughing, and bat him away. "Me next. I want a fishtail braid alllll the way down to my butt."

"Your hair barely goes past your ears!"

"Drats. We gotta go rob a wig store sometime."

You turn to face him and hum, rocking side to side.

"JJ?"

"Yeah?" He answers.

"You're the best big brother ever," you tell him honestly. "I'd never want anybody else to be my family."

JJ grins and joins you on the floor, legs crossed, and rocks with you. "Me too."

You look away from him and click your feet. "Promise?"

"I promise."

"Pinky promise?"

JJ threads your fingers together and gently shakes them. "Pinky promise."

"No take backsies?"

"No take backsies. Never."

"...not even...for the bats and birds?"

JJ tugs on your hand to make you look at him. His expression is solemn and his tone is no-nonsense.

"I'd sooner kill 'em all than leave you alone, Punchline. They aren't gonna make me replace you, ever."

You feel a knot in your chest come undone and give your brother a tight squeeze, hiding your face in his shoulder. JJ squeezes you just as tight, rubbing comforting circles in your back.

"That's why you were cranked up more than a jack-in-the-box the whole time?" He asks, gently teasing.

"Maybe," you mumble. "They keep calling you by your old name."

"It's an old name, P," he insists. "I'm not that guy anymore. I won't be that guy again. He's dead and gone."

You nod, repeating his words under your breath.

"Dead and gone."

--

"Madam Punchline?"

You lift your head to look at Alfred waiting at the door and stop playing with your brother's shoelaces, having tied them together while he's sleeping. When he wakes and tries to stand, he'll trip. It'll be hilarious!

"Fancy man," you whisper. "Whataya want?"

"I was wondering if you might permit me to check your temperature?" Alfred asks. His hands are clasped in front of him, devoid of any object. He didn't bring what he needs with him, which means you have to leave the cell to do the check. By yourself.

You glance at JJ, hesitant. Your smile thins.

"It's a very simple procedure. I just need you to hold a small, sterile stick under your tongue for some time, and then I'll double-check it with a scanner."

"...bring it here," you say.

"I'm afraid I cannot," Alfred says, and looks genuinely remorseful. "This family has a habit of losing things, so the thermometers are attached to the medical bay's wall with bungee cable. I promise to bring you right back."

You look at your brother again, then Alfred. You click your feet together.

"D'ya need his temperature taken, too?"

"It's easier to do it one at a time."

You cross your arms and turn your back to Alfred as you think. Truth be told, you couldn't care less if these people wanted to scan your head or shove a nail in your kneecap — it's not like you could feel the pain anyway — but the cell is very dull, and you are becoming bored.

Being bored has never been a good feeling. Especially not to Popsy. When he gets bored, bad things happen.

"How long?" You ask.

"I can have you back here in five minutes."

Five minutes should be fine. You've been apart from JJ for five minutes before. No sweat! And he'll bring you back! Fancy Man was the one that reunited you to begin with! It's fine!

You pluck the hair pin JJ gave you from your head and set it on the pillow next to your brother, then walk towards the butler.

"Okay," you nod. "Five minutes."

"Five minutes, madam," Alfred promises. He punches in a code on the keypad facing his side of the door and it slides open silently. When he extends a hand to you, you tug at the pristine, white glove and slip it off, stepping into the corridor with a giggle.

"Soft," you coo, reaching for his other hand. Alfred acquiesces to the theft and starts leading you to the med bay. "Mine now! Ha-ha!"

"I have many, so you're welcome to those," he says, folding his hands behind himself as he strides. "If you'd like, I can see to having a special pair tailored to your hands. Mine are a bit bigger than yours."

You slip your fingers into the gloves. They're soft on the inside, too. He's right though; they're too big and you have to keep your hands clenched to prevent them from sliding off. Lame. Maybe they'd fit JJ though, so you take them back off and slide them into a pocket on your skirt.

"What's your deal, Fancy Man?" You ask, mimicking his posture. Alfred smiles a little, which makes your smile more genuine. "Why're you bein' so nice? Y'know who our Popsy is, right?"

"I am very familiar with your father's work, madam," Alfred says, "but children are the product of their parents' behavior, not the other way around. It's easy to be kind to those who deserve it."

"Uh huh. Don't think that applies to us."

"Why ever not?" He asks. You pantomime swinging your mallet down and can still recall the harsh squish of Tilly's flesh and bones caving under the pressure a month ago. His face shifts into recognition. You don't know if you like that he saw the broadcast or not.

"We all have things for which we must atone," Alfred says, after a moment to think. "This cave — this family — is no stranger to violence. It would be very hypocritical to shun you for one bad deed."

Your smile ticks up on one side and your brows furrow. You don't know how to respond, and the butler doesn't press you to. Alfred gestures for you to walk through a door on your left and you do, looking around at all the medical tools. Suddenly, Tilly is the last thing on your mind.

"Oh, JJ has one of those!" You exclaim, pointing at the AED on the wall. "And that." You point to a scope for checking your ears. "And that." You point to a suture kit. "And that. And that. And — well, not that anymore, that one blew up two warehouses ago... Oh! He has that! And that!"

Alfred pulls a step stool out and gently pats the examination table. You climb up and sit down without fuss, head craning all around to look at more things.

"He doesn't have that. What's that?" You pick up a tube and close one eye, peering down it with the other. When you don't see anything, you put your mouth on the end and blow. "Hooooooo."

"It's a tube, meant to go down your throat to help you breathe." Alfred gently pulls on it but you clamp your teeth down and refuse to let go. "While this is quite amusing, my lady, the longer this takes, the longer your brother will be without you."

You immediately open your mouth and spit the breathing tube out. Alfred puts it in the sink across the room and then grabs a thermometer off the wall.

"You weren't lyin'!" You snort, looking at the little bungee cable tied to it. "That's so dumb!"

"I have no reason to lie, miss Punchline," Alfred says. He gestures for you to open your mouth, and gently guides the tip of the thermometer under your tongue. "Though, if you suspected I was, why did you still leave with me?"

"Cause it's too boring in the box!" You exclaim, pulling the thermometer back out. "I can't play Tag in there. I can't play Hide and Seek in there. The handstand game gets boring after a while. I can't climb anything! We're getting bored!!"

"I understand," Alfred says, waiting patiently for you to say your peace before offering the stick again. You stay quiet this time and hold it in your mouth. "My sincerest apologies, lady Punchline. I'll have that corrected as soon as possible."

You hum, kicking your feet as you sit and wait for the thermometer to get a reading. A memory surfaces — you're much smaller, maybe four, and dizzy all the time. You're shifting between hot and cold, and JJ has you bundled up in a coat he pilfered from a thrift shop. He's taking your temperature with one of these sticks and murmuring that you're gonna be okay, that you just need to stay warm and get lots of rest and drink water. You remember that it was during one of Popsy's vacations to Arkham, and that getting food and clean water was harder when you were both younger. Something about Uncle Scarecrow poisoning the water system for a week...you can't recall. That whole stint is a blur, really, but you remember how gentle JJ was about nursing you back to health.

When the thermometer beeps, you hand it over to Alfred. After he cleans and puts it back, he grabs the scanner gun. You hop off the table in surprise and duck behind it.

"The hell? You tryna dome me!?"

"Oh, my!" Alfred looks genuinely upset by your implication. He aims it at his own head and presses the button to demonstrate. "It's not a real gun. I promise I mean you no harm."

"...oh." In hindsight, there's no place to insert any ammo, and it wouldn't make much sense to go through all the effort to do a check-up if you were just gonna die after. You straighten up and brush imaginary lint off your clothes, giving him a sheepish smile. "My bad. Scan away, doc."

Alfred waves the apology away and holds the scanner out to you first, taking the time to explain what he's going to do and how it works before doing it. You don't voice it, but you appreciate the explanation.

"I believe that's our time, my lady," Alfred says, opening the door leading back to the hall. "I shall lead you back to your brother."

"Kay!" You skip past him and towards the cell without fuss. Before you get close enough to the door to see inside, it slides open and JJ stumbles out, eyes wide and barefoot. "You're awake!"

He grabs you close and hugs you tight. You pat his back.

"Don't do that again," he says. "Don't let them take you anywhere without me knowing."

"I just got my temperature checked. It's your turn," you reply, and pull out the pilfered gloves. "I stole these for you!"

JJ tucks them into his own pocket and then hugs you again, glaring at Alfred over your shoulder.

"You promised —"

"That you two would not be kept apart," Alfred interrupts calmly. "I brought her right back after we were done. She is unharmed, master Ti— Junior."

"I wouldda stayed," you admit, "but I was bored, JJ."

His grip tightens briefly, then slackens. He lets out a heavy sigh and gives you a wan smile.

"Me too," he admits quietly. "I'm not mad at ya."

"Come look at all the junk they got in there," you say, taking his hand. He instinctively threads your fingers together. "There's stuff you got! I recognized it."

Alfred takes two steps to the side to allow you both to pass, gesturing back down to the med bay. "We can spend as long as you like in there, if it pleases the lady and gentleman. I really do need to take your temperature, master Junior, if you'll permit it."

JJ looks unconvinced. You tug on his hand.

"I'll go with!" You say. "It's somethin' to do, JJ. C'mon! Please?"

Like a house of cards, he crumbles to your puppy dog eyes immediately, like always.

"Yeah. Okay."

Before you can drag him off, he tugs your hand and gives you a flat look.

"And then you have to untie my shoes."

You grin up at the small, red spot on his forehead that looks like it might need ice.

"Deal."

[nightscythe]

I love the image of Sevatar stepping in on Curze behalf in order to make sure the object of his affections is at least somewhat properly courted, him intercepting love letters in order to do a small bit of editing and making sure they appropriately match his Primarchs freak is especially funny.

I’m sure it’s all fun and games until instead of Curze they begin to fall for his handsome wingman -💜

could you imagine though... sev is just trying to do his job, curze is infatuated, and you're just standing there like... the one who handed me the bunch of flowers is very cute and i would like to know more?

because in your head, curze doesn't really exist. you'd see him, almost like a shadow that wanted to be hidden, but with your own interests in mind, ignoring him seemed right. but what if sev fell for you too?

at first it had been a surprise, the offering of black lillies passed to you without much of a warning or explanation. sevatar had only mentioned that they were from the primarch, then he'd left to attend to business he felt more important during the day.

flowers, little boxes of treats no one else was allowed, a trinket that had no real meaning other than being a material gift that the most loyal son could offer to you by means of indulging his primarch's unspoken yet terrifying interest in you.

and as endearing as sev would try to be with you, it would almost feel like more of a joke. especially as time went on and you find amusement in how he'd form his primarch's narrative and bend reality to try and make you see curze in a better light.

"shall i expect chocolates tomorrow?" you'd joke with him, tucking another unenthusiastically written poem into a draw with everything else.

"i'm not sure that's something he'd consider for you," he would return, "but i suppose he's not the ones making the decisions here."

and as the days passed by you'd look forward to seeing him. he'd linger around you for longer than he needed to, asking you questions posed as requests to help him court you better.

"favourite colour?" he'd ask, walking idly with you. "or, favourite colour for dresses?"

"curze wishes to buy me a dress?" you'd ask.

he'd only hum in agreement.

because soon the gifts from the primarch are nothing short of the memories you had shared with sevatar. not your favourite flower, but one that you stopped to point out when he walked with you. not your favourite colour, but the one he thought made you shine the brightest.

but if you asked?

"it reminded him of you," he'd tell you, straight-faced and never looking you in the eye, "i wrote it down in the list of things about you."

the list he hadn't touched in weeks now because everything he remembered exactly as you said it to him.

and the poems, the notes, they all start to have meaning.

its not poorly worded confession written for someone else, it's a true reflection of sev's feelings as he realises he can't go a day without thinking of your smile and the way you said see you tomorrow without really thinking about it.

you'd thank him on behalf of curze for the gift.

and you'd thank him for keeping each of your thoughts and feelings with him. even the little ones like the reasons for your favourite seasons and how thick you liked the blankets at night.

and you'd wonder whether he asked your preference on touch and gentleness, hypothetically, for him or his primarch more than once.

"you were supposed to have his heart," he'd say one day to you, when it was quiet enough for him to no longer hide his true soul, "but you've ended up with all of mine.

nothing would be comparable to the relief he would feel when you finally admit, "i never wanted his anyway."

you just have to hope that curze was in a forgiving mood when he found out. there's only so much that being the favourite son can protext you from...

no bother though. sev thinks you're worth committing treason for.

completely contradicts how i said he would woo someone himself... but oh well, situations!!

[hwnglx]

hm i tried my best to explain, he has a lot of different facets to him, so reading for him can get a little overwhelming.. hope it's still a nice read 🤍

jake's ideal type

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

shuffled songs: bored by billie eilish young and beautiful by lana del rey “will you still love me, when i got nothing but my aching soul?”

physical traits

natural and classic beauty. harmonious features. deep and intense eyes. color more on the darker side. (like dark eyes you can lose yourself in) fierce gaze. something strong about their features that makes them stand out, it just catches your eye. face that lights up once they smile. (looks colder in a resting position but transform once they break into a smile) keep hearing “부담스러워” meaning burdenful. in this context, used more in an “intimidating” manner. in korean this can be used for people who have intensity to their look, people you can't hold eye contact with for long. he doesn't have an extremely specific type, just needs to feel intrigued.

personality traits

so, jake likes his partners to have a powerful effect on him. what seems to intrigue him in a person, is “reverse charm” where they might look sweet and innocent, but are much more fierce and savage inside. or look intense and cold, but end up being very soft and sweet inside. someone with a captivating aura, who carries themselves with a sense of mystery. a person he looks at and makes him wonder, awakens his interest like.. “oh this person must have such a different side to them deep down.”

jake also likes it when his lovers can boldly challenge him and his beliefs. he wants someone witty who isn't afraid to talk back at him, change his perspectives. someone whose words and actions linger in his mind, make him re-think his own and in hindsight change and transform him for the better. he wants his relationships to turn him into the better version of himself and to provoke him to discover his best self.

another quality he seems to cherish in his romantic partners, is when they're patient, gentle and persevering. he wants someone with emotional intelligence and empathy for people, who looks after the ones they treasure with great care. he needs someone loyal who won't be discouraged quickly, and remains committed to him through every trial. he seems to be quite self aware, so he knows that he isn't exactly the easiest lover to deal with.. whether that's because of his busy schedule, or his more complicated nature. he wants a person with motives and interests selfless enough to be accepting towards his faults, forgiving towards his mistakes. he wants a resilient person who can encourage him to work on himself. honestly, he seems to like his s/o to have motherly energy. he wants someone who will nurture him, coddle him on some levels, but also give him the tough love he needs to grow.

jake wants a person who puts importance into keeping the relationship harmonious. he'd appreciate a person who can balance him out, in a way where they can complete him in the areas he lacks. for instance, someone much more stable and grounded than him. someone who can be more logical or objective and less impulsive when the situation asks for it. i keep hearing “정신 차려”, which means “come to your senses” or “pull yourself together”.

(note; this insight was interesting because i think he's this case of opposites attracting and benefitting from each other. he could grow a lot from being with someone like jay, who has a stellium in taurus, which is opposite jake's scorpio stellium. idk if they're close but despite unavoidable clashes due to being so so different, they have potential to balance each other out pretty well)

jake puts a lot of value into understanding each other on a level deeper than everyone else. he wants there to be effortless communication between the two, almost telepathic, where they know what the other means even without necessarily being vocal about it. the person who seems to know you so well; they complete your sentences, or know what you're thinking or feeling just by one glance at your expression.

he also seems to like his lovers having this duality in personality, where they can be both; cute, playful and kittenish (someone who flirts in this giggly and coy way), but capable of having meaningful and long conversations about deep and serious matters in life. he does seem to love duality a lot, whether that's appearance-wise or character-wise.

him as a boyfriend

+ jake is a boyfriend who loooves making you feel like it's only you and him in this world. he really values alone-time and deep intimacy, whether that's physical intimacy in the form of quality time, or emotional intimacy in the form of deep conversations. he enjoys zoning in on his partners and focusing the entirety of his attention on them.

sweet aspect; he himself can be very moody, but if you need him to be your source of comfort and shoulder to cry on, he can become that for you. he'll put effort into making sure he wins over your trust and you feel comfortable around him. he wants you to feel safe enough to not be afraid of showcasing your emotions, whether that's sadness, frustration, anger.. he likes to see it all. he does enjoy seeing his lover riled up about him lmao, since to him it shows they're passionate about the relationship. but there is this comforting and warm energy to him, where he's good at making you feel seen, and listened to.

he is the type of boyfriend who will want to stick by your side through all storms. he really values what his lovers have to say. let's say you got into an argument with him; once you've both calmed down, he might sit you down, softly take your hand and deeply gaze into your eyes while quietly listening to your side of the story. he'll want to understand your perspective and your heart.

he can be responsible as a lover. it almost feels like a task to him to fulfill his role as a boyfriend, to make you feel like you can rely on him. he wants to lead the relationship, and make you feel secure. it's very much an equal give and take, since he does seem to enjoy leaning on his partner for security at times as well. evidently, he seems to actually like a balanced relationship with no crazy power dynamics.

- hm, some heavy energy here i don't feel comfortable diving into deeply. but i can sense him realizing he has a habit of so strongly clinging to his lovers, due to abandonment issues. which can be quite common for scorpio placements.. he's scared of being left behind and replaced with someone “better”, due to him potentially not being good enough to stay with. there's some lingering fatigue and emotional baggage from the past he seems to struggle letting go of.

jake can put so much pressure on himself to satisfy his partner. he wants them to feel fulfilled and confident in the relationship and makes it his responsibility. it can weigh on him if he feels like his partner is starting to lose the spark, fall out of love with him, and especially lose their trust in him. he wants his lover to recognize how much he cares about the connection, but is self-aware enough to understand it's his own bad habits and impulsiveness that can stand in the way.

i can see him having bad habits like, having wandering eyes or being too charming and.. complementary towards women, where it can border on flirting. blurring the lines (like in his eyes it wasn't flirting but his partner sees it differently). though i can't see him straight up cheating, “superficial” things like that can still understandably rub partners the wrong way. it can easily cause discomfort, conflicts, miscommunication. this can lead to trust issues on both sides. he can just be a boyfriend who requires a lot of patience.

[spidrzfall]

> Section cut 01.

[AUTHORS NOTE: ik i haven't been posting for a while :( sorry everyone I've been going through a rough patch and uh due to very unfortunate circumstances dropped out of college 💔 - But you can only make positives out of negatives so I can maybe write more during free time. For now, have this tiny drabble I came up with xd — so short and maybe one day I'll go back to this idea and write more or not but enjoy! - sincerely, Alex]

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Drabble. 01 - his muse.

Now playing > until you came along - the visitors •

°• mlm

°• male reader

°• fem dni !

It wasn't a surprise Peter loved photography. Aside from being what his friends appointed him a "Science Wizz", he loved photography, and to be frank, he fell in love with it much earlier than when developing a fond relationship with science. Photography was one of those things Peter found that made life a bit easier, a bit more colorful. Photography was his way of showing strangers how he views the world and how he perceived every tiny detail in his life.

Now the only flaw— well, okay, not flaw - but the only consistency in all of this was that Peter's photography was always centered around landscapes. If you were to ask him, his response would be that he was never fond of photographing people which was partially true, Peter wasn't a huge fan of taking photos of people, he tried it in highschool and he wasn't a big fan of it. Now, on a serious note, if you asked Peter why he didn't photograph people, he'd say he just didn't like bossing people around.

Landscapes and objects were easy! It was his safe zone, his comfort. He didn't need to interact with anyone. He didn't have to tell someone to stop loving or stand still only for them to move. He also didn't have to deal with the very awkward small talk or hear others' opinions. Contrary to popular belief, Peter Benjamin Parker wasn't one to take commentary lightly. Well, okay, he did! He liked the constructive criticism but he knows damn well in his mind he likes working alone because if he finds a mistake he's calling himself out instead of facing the anxiety and humiliation of someone else telling him "that photo looks wonky". He'd practically shrivel up and die if someone randomly points out he fucked up the rule of thirds or the photos too bright or there's slight motion blur because New York wind!

Occasionally, though, he'd have to face the fire. Being surrounded by friends who needed portfolios and had to get a professional photo and between having a friend who was great at photography (their words not Peters) and not paying seemed like a great choice to basically get on their knees and beg Peter to take photos of the than pay some person off Fiverr or Craigslist (if they were feeling cheap). And of course Peter being the amazing friend agrees to it because who is he to deny his friends his service.

Given he'd step out his comfort zone and into wavering dangerous territory but hey these were his friends, he couldn't say no — and they gave him $60 and free pizza so he most certainly wasn't going to make a fuss for nothing!

Life has weird ways of throwing Peter curve balls, as if it loves the idea of catching Peter of guard. It didn't take long for word of his amazing(ly cheap) photography to get word to his friends' friends. It was a matter of time. Weeks. That's all it took, Weeks for word to get out, how can't it when his friends openly bragged about Peter being a life saver for taking their photos for things like work portfolios, headshots, etc. etc.

Word got out so much that Peter loosely agreed when his friend asked him if he could photograph (M/N) since the other needed some headshots or something to be fair he wasnt exactly paying attention until it hit him he'd have to photograph a guy he's only met twice in his entire life and in both occasions they only said hi to one another and met at a mutual friends party. Peter went into this mini photoshoot, thinking he'd come home with 60 bucks in his wallet, 70 if he played his cards right, what Peter didn't expect going home with $80 and finding what he deemed to be his god damn muse.

He stayed awake all night after that photoshoot, between tossing and turning in bed, stuffing his face in his pillow, and repeatedly checking his digital clock next to his bed, Peter's mind only wandered to the photoshoot. It's almost as if something shot through Peter's very soul. Getting up from bed and reaching for his camera and looking over photo after photo, not one was imperfect in his eyes, like (M/N) was the perfect model, he just tied the photos! Replaying the small talk between their little photoshoot and how they were simply just stunning in every photo Peter seemed to snap, even when they moved causing the photo to be way too affected by motion blur, somehow Peter was fascinated by how much he liked them. Each one so flawed that it made it perfect.

Peter was selfish. Selfish and greedy. Those were the two words Peter whispered to himself anytime he volunteered to photograph (M/N). Going as far as to tell white lies that he had class assignments that required him to photograph someone one (that someone coincidentally being (M/N)). Hell, even when he didn't say anything, when he had no excuse, he just liked photographing the other, and (M/N) knew that, he'd always see Peter snap a photo or two in-between their one on one hang outs but he never once was bothered by the idea of being Peter's model in any sense, in fact he encountered it. Always asking Peter if he preferred if he posed for him in a certain way, all teases to let the brunette know he was catching on to his not so sneaky hidden snapped photos.

To anyone, they'd tell you Peter was entering a process, a process where he was being experimental and testing his boundaries with a model, except (M/N) wasn't just his model. No. He was Peter's Muse.

It had gotten so bad that, really, now that Peter shifts back into sticking with landscapes like before, all he can think about is how beautiful the world was, but how more beautiful it would be if (M/N) was there, how much more beautiful the photos would be if (M/N) was in the shot. How the photos would contrast the man's skin color perfectly. Every photo surged inspiration to Peter when he'd imagine (M/N) there, when he'd think about his muse.

Peter never had a muse until (M/N) came along and Peter wouldn't have it any other way.

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[starconchs]

☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆[𝟒:𝟑𝟐 𝐩.𝐦.] 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

notes: fluff, ~700 words, valentine's day, gn reader

megumi blinks slowly as he stares at the object being held out in front of him.

it's cute, he thinks as he studies the small bag quietly. it's decorated with pink and red hearts, containing what seems to be chocolates that vaguely resemble his shikigami.

"don't read into it too much," nobara snaps, placing a hand on her hip and tapping her foot impatiently when she notices that megumi makes no move to grab them. she sighs loudly as she shoves them towards him, forcing him to take them before she lets them drop to the ground. "they're gratitude chocolates."

"clearly," he responds, opening the bag and grabbing one of the treats. he hums his thanks as he savors the candy, pausing only to tilt his head as a curious look makes it's way onto his face. "what are they for?"

"seriously?" nobara hisses, her eye twitching slightly at his cluelessness. "they're for valentine's day, fushiguro! we made bags of chocolate for everyone."

"we?" megumi asks, his eyes widening briefly at nobara's words. he stealthily slips his phone out of his pocket to check the date, silently wondering when the hell it became february. he nods his head as he puts his phone away, silently thanking nobara for the chocolates and receiving a sigh in return.

"stay here, okay?" she says, tilting her head to the side as she walks away from him. "someone else has been looking for you all day."

a slight blush paints megumi's cheeks when he looks in the direction she motioned to, only for it to fade when he notices you and yuuji standing a few meters away. you're smiling softly as you hand the pink-haired boy a white box, causing him to smile widely before picking you up and spinning you around. megumi can't help the way his heart drops at the sight, and he finds himself wondering if nobara had mentioned anything about you giving out boxes of chocolate.

he forces a tiny smile onto his face when you suddenly look over to meet his gaze, waving excitedly before motioning for him to stay put. you turn back to say something to yuuji, looking down bashfully as he says something back and glances towards megumi.

it's only a matter of seconds before you're standing in front of him, your breath catching in your throat as you study him quietly. he's so unfairly pretty, and you force yourself to hold out the item in your hands before you can chicken out.

"happy valentine's day, megumi!" you say, a large smile on your face as you wait for him to react. he's silent as he observes you, your finger shaking slightly as you do your best to look anywhere but his eyes. his heart nearly skips a beat when he realizes that you're holding out a box similar to the one you had given yuuji, the difference being that the one in front of him is covered with doodles drawn in the sparkly, pink ink of the pen he knows you're fond of.

a smile spreads across his face as he studies the doodles, taking note of the fact that they seem to depict scenes from your adventures together. it's just you and him visible in the glittery drawings, no sign of yuuji or nobara present on the box currently being held up to his chest. you sigh shakily as his hands cover yours, and you stumble forward slightly as he pulls the box towards him. there's a slight shake of your head as you frown at your own nervousness, but you freeze when you notice the soft look in megumi's eyes as he looks at you.

"i hope you can accept my gift," you finally whisper, your heart pounding as you wait for his response. the real meaning of your words is left unsaid, but both of you know that you're not just simply talking about the chocolates.

megumi can't help the soft chuckle that leaves his lips at your sudden bashfulness, his mind racing a mile a minute as he begins to think abut what he can give you in return on white day. you feel your cheeks heat up when one of his hands takes the box from you, his other hand grabbing onto one of yours and intertwining your fingers together.

"of course i will."

rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Random quirks/habits some creeps have

I might make a part two of this in the future

Toby squeezes things in his sleep. If he's sleeping with you, he likes to gently wrap himself around you or lay a hand on you and gently squeeze you. If he's sleeping alone, he wraps himself up in his blankets and constantly squeezes them overnight. He doesn't know he does this, it's just something that relaxes him and comforts him while he's sleeping. 

Jeff bounces his leg obsessively. It does not matter where he is sitting or what he is doing, he is going to be bouncing his leg. If enough people voice complaints he will stop for that session, but the next time he sits down somewhere else, he will start again. If you want him to discreetly stop you, or someone like Liu or BEN have to sit next to him and put your hand firmly on his leg to get him to realize he's doing it. Also taps his foot if he's standing.

Slender reorganizes things on a very regular basis. When he can't think and he's feeling stressed, he destresses himself by reorganizing all of his stuff. It could be his office, it could be his bedroom, his closet, or the entire downstairs of the mansion, but he will be moving things around until his mind is settled and he can finally breathe and think again. Literally, NOTHING can stop him when he gets like this. Unless Toby breaks his legs falling out of a tree again, that stops him, but nothing else.

 I think I might have mentioned this in response to a question once before, but I am bringing it back. EJ needs a type of scratching post. Since my EJ is a feline demon he has sharp claws and instinctually likes to scratch things, and so he essentially has what equates to demonic scratch boards that he can dig his claws into whenever he gets angry and wants to scratch something. Sometimes he growls when he uses them, sometimes he purrs, but regardless, it relaxes and soothes him to use them. Some he keeps around the mansion, some are high up on his bedroom walls, and some are hanging high up around the mansion. He likes standing and stretching high up the most to use them. You are the only person allowed to watch him use them.

LJ juggles when he gets nervous. He doesn't know why or how it started, but when he gets extremely anxious for long periods of time, he juggles to destress himself. Sometimes it's standard juggling props like bowling pins, but sometimes he will just juggle random objects so long as he can have at least three of them. The more objects he's juggling at a time, the more anxious he is. His current record for anxiety juggling is 14 balls. 

BEN, when feeling anxious or dissociative or selectively mute, communicates through electronics. He will speak through his phone, or the microwave, or the TV, or a computer, or the old rotary phone Slender has hanging from the downstairs kitchen wall. Any electronic near him, he'll produce a voice through to communicate. The voice sounds mostly like him, but it's much more robotic and detached, much like how he's feeling. If he's feeling too anxious or mute to do that, he'll produce text bubbles above him displaying what he would want to say, just like how I've headcanoned he can make emojis appear around him.

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn into BG3: Chapter 12

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 12: You take a walk through the cellar in the blighted village. When the others catch up you say something that freaks out Astarion.

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: I was undecided if I wanted to post this >.> But what the hells.

You’re on your own, now.  Just for a bit, thanks to Wyll convincing Tav you don’t need to be watched at all times.  And with no more goblins between you and camp you’re able to be left alone to sort out…yourself, you guess. 

You didn’t throw up again after leaving Ethel’s, but you may have done some crying as you walked in circles around the forest by the village.  If it wasn’t for having to face the others you’d have run back to camp, pulled scratch into your tent and bawled your eyes out.

Though you promised to go back to camp you find yourself in the blighted village.  You can't read the sign at the entrance but you know it says Moonhaven, and you try to memorise what you think the letters might be.  

A little stop can’t hurt, you think.  Anything to avoid a conversation about what happened.  And you can collect the herbs that are in the cellar, along with anything else that might be useful.  You take a small swig of the health potion to get the taste of bile out of your mouth and then stash it into your bag, since it’s now nearly empty after leaving your personal hoard at camp, and head down into the cellar.  Whatever objects had been clinking in there remain a mystery–you still haven’t looked inside and won’t even as you add more to the pack.

As much as you had wanted to abandon your staff you took it with you.  Necromancy or not, it could bludgeon someone should the need arise.   And apparently it can cast light in a small radius around you because it does just that when you make it to the bottom of the ladder.  

With a slight purple tint, the staff lets out an eerie glow giving you just enough light to see by.  There’s a small buzz of energy through your body that you assume is the Weave.  Not wanting to question things anymore, you get to work prying open the barrels and crates and find the herbs you’re there for.  You circle around and pick up a couple health potions, a couple mystery potions to be identified later, and find the hidden lever.  You hesitate before pushing it down, but curiosity gets the better of you in the end.  You watch the shelves move and step into the secret cave.

Now that you’re aware of the phantom limb and what it has been reaching for, you can feel the dead weigh on your mind.  You know where they are, kind of in the same way you could navigate your room in the dark.  They’re permanent objects stuck in place, and should you so desire, you can reach out and move them. 

“I guess I’m a necromancer,” you mutter as you pluck a bone cap out of the ground.  “Awesome.  Couldn’t be a wizard or a sorcerer or…wait, am I one of those?”

Wyll seemed to make it sound like a necromancer was separate, but it kind of was a subcategory of wizard.

You straighten and keep moving, turning the corner and finding the cavern.  You ignore everything there and head for the mirror that waits beyond the wooden planks.  

When you step up to it the staff's eyes glow violet again, and the mirror slides open.  You sigh.  “Necromancer it is, then.”

But…maybe there’s a clue to your identity in this place if you’re powerful or rich enough?  You move inside and find the lab on the right, the paperwork scattered about, and logbooks.  Or you assume they’re the logbooks—you can’t read, after all.  Instead of flipping through them you head to the exit and find the rusty key on the shelves.  Soon enough you’re standing before the first trap that lights the braziers, and risk the step.  The room is filled with light as the fires blaze to life.  

The Necromancy of Thay is just beyond the barred door, and this time you can hear it.  It whispers to you, quiet little voices that speak in a language you don’t know.  They’re distant, but like with the bodies of the dead you know where the book is.  

It takes some strength to push the rusty key into the padlock on the door, and with some force you manage to turn it.  The whispers quiet.

“A well hidden laboratory, wonder what it’s doing down here?”

You turn to find Tav, Wyll and Astarion walking into the lab.  He still has both eyes, at least.  After he outed Astarion you thought he might take the hag’s deal. 

“How did you find this place?” you ask.  

He only offers you a shrug, eyes darting around the lab in search of loot.

You relent,  “I found the hatch and started looking around.”

Tav smiles and rests his hands on the back of his head.  Maybe he’s just happy you aren’t ignoring him again, or running away.  By the way his tail flicks at the air you think that might be it, and the reason he’s being quieter than usual.

“I followed your tracks,” Wyll reveals.  Well, he did hunt down all sorts of beings as the Blade of Frontiers.  “What have you found?”

“Creepy book,” you reply.  They approach you, surveying the book and everything else in the small cage.  

“Trapped, most likely,” Astarion says.  He steps forward carefully and does something to the stand the book is on.  It’s so quick you don’t have time to peer around him and get a good look at what “disarm trap” really looks like.

Astarion picks up the book, turning it in his hands.  They begin to discuss what it could be when you remember the bracers that are down here.  You slip away without a thought and find the nearby gilded chest, poking it before opening it.  There are traps here, who knows what else could be rigged to explode?

When you open the chest you feel a wave of magic—Weave—come from it.  It’s different from the warmth of the healing magic, somehow sharper, more demanding.  You pull the bracers out and put them in your bag, nearly overflowing with loot now.  

You turn to rejoin the group only to nearly run into Astarion on the level below you.  You stumble back and catch yourself.  “I think Shadowheart was right about putting a bell on you.”

He gives you a smirk, genuine, your surprise.  A thought occurs but rather than ask it you bite the inside of your right cheek.  

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks.  You don’t know what he’s referring to, considering the amount of surprises you’ve had lately.  He goes on, waving one hand in the air.  “Filthy rich, can’t read, enchanted clothing, and now, a necromancer.”

“To be fair, I don’t know anything about all of that.”  You try not to sigh too hard thinking of what Auntie Ethel had said.

“I wonder what other secrets that little head holds…” he muses.  It’s more to himself than you.  “And you killed on my behalf, I’m flattered.”

“I didn’t mean to, though.”

“I know, that’s what makes it all the more entertaining.  You, the picture of innocence, murdered a man for a vampire spawn.  Ha!”

You furrow your brow, unsure how you could be considered the picture of innocence.   But maybe that was only compared to those Astarion knew.  It was your first murder…and only murder!  Not first.  Just the one, and only, murder.

Yes, you are rather innocent in the terms of this world.

Astarion pinches your cheek between two fingers, bringing you back to the conversation.  “Don’t think this makes us even.”

“Okay,” you say when he lets go.  You rub at where he’d pinched, shocked he touched you so casually.  And not just that…his fingers are warm.  “Uhm…”

Astarion quirks a brow.  “Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question?  About being a vampire.”

He leans his weight into one foot, crossing his arms as he eyes you warily.  “I suppose.”

“Why are you warm?  Shouldn’t you be, like, cold?  Or room temperature?”

Astarion, for all his acting, is easy to read.  His eyes widen as he steps back, arms uncrossing and held out before him like he’s trying to catch his balance.  “What did you say?”

“Sorry, is that rude?”  You shift on your heels.  “I just thought vampires would be cold, with the…being dead, and all.”

“We are,” Astarion confirms, voice grim. 

“But your skin is warm.”

“I assure you, it is not.”

“I literally just had your hand on my cheek.  You’re warm.”

“I think I know what temperature my own body is!”  Astarion huffs and walks away.  You notice the bag that rests on his back has the weight of the book within.  

You move down the steps as he paces, annoyed.  

“What’s wrong, Astarion?” Tav asks.

You answer, “I asked him why—”

But you don’t get to finish it because Astarion wraps one hand over your mouth and the other on the back of your head, successfully silencing you.  He says, “Nothing!  Nothing at all.  Just discussing what reward I might offer for valiantly saving me from a monster hunter.”

You roll your eyes.  But having his skin on yours again confirms his heat.  He feels like a living, breathing human.  Why did that freak him out?  When he releases you he gives you a hard stare that’s easy to understand.  Shut.  Up.

Wyll and Tav watch you, waiting to see what you say but you just shrug.  “It’s not that important.”

Wyll frowns, but lets it go.  For now.  Tav bites into his bottom lip but keeps silent.

Astarion’s words remind you of something you’d like to forget.  The Gur.  You can’t even recall his name right now.  Maybe you should have tried harder to keep Astarion away, or convinced them to not go there at all.  But you didn’t, and there was no reset now.

You watch Tav flit about the basement collecting loot.  It does little to help your mood, but at the very least you take comfort in the fact that they didn’t call you a monster for what you did.   You promise to keep better watch of those chords in your head, the little phantom strings that connect to the dead around you.  Because avoiding the dead is an impossible task, at least as long as you travel with Tav and everyone.

When you return to the surface the others are waiting by the well.  You spot your bag of gold on Gale’s shoulder and hurry to take it from him, but he holds up his hands to stop you.  “What kind of man would I be if I let an injured person carry so much weight?”

You’re about to argue but think better of it when the world sways a little.  You manage to stay still, probably, and thank him instead.  

“Oh, right,” you say, pulling the magic bracers from your other pack.  “I thought you might want these.”

Gale takes the bracers.  It’s then that you notice the bags under his eyes are especially dark—and you realize he hasn’t told anyone about his condition.  As far as you know.   The little lines that travel up the side of his neck and towards his left eye are darker, too.

Your thumbnail scratches at your staff as you wait for him to say something.  Anything.  Literally anything would be good right now because it’s been ten whole seconds of him staring at the bracers and that’s long enough of him being silent that the others are now looking.

“Gale?” Tav asks.

It jolts him out of his stupor.  “Yes?  Oh, yes.”  He looks at you.  “Thank you.  Perhaps there’s something I must admit…”

Gale goes through his first speech about the orb, and then his second.  It’s a lot to take in in one go, if you haven’t heard it all before.  At the end he says, “I understand if you want to part ways—this orb, for lack of a better word, is immensely dangerous.”

Tav asks, “Why?”

All eyes turn to him, his head tilted with a smile on his face.  

“Because I could explode,” Gale says slowly.  

“So?”  Tav points to each companion as he adds, “Shar worshipper, warlock turned devil, angry githyanki, infernal engine that could explode, vampire, necromancer with memory loss, and I’m sorry Halsin we’ve barely just met, but…uh, old?”

There are worse things to be said, about all of you.  

“Plus we’ve all got worms in our heads,” Karlach says.  “Oh, well except for…”

Gale lets out a small laugh.  “Thank you.  All of you.  Now, even I’m getting tired of my own voice so shall we get going?”

The group begins their journey back to the goblin camp. 

“I am not angry,” Lae’zel says, her voice almost a hiss.  “At least not at any of you.  The mindflayers, however…”

Halsin walks next to her, asking questions about the tadpoles and their magic, while Astarion and Wyll follow, then Shadowheart, Karlach, and Tav.  You and Gale are last to leave the village.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Gale asks. 

You hesitate too long before answering.  “No.”

“You are a terrible liar.”  He keeps his voice low as you walk, putting the bracers on his wrists.  “But I consider that a good thing.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say.  They seem to consider your knowledge to be some kind of deadly premonition, so maybe you should lean into that.  “I can’t really explain it.”

Gale smiles but it’s weak.  

“We’ll find lots of stuff for you to eat,” you assure him.  “Or absorb, I mean.  Like those!”

You point at the bracers.  He holds them closer to where you know the orb is tattooed on his chest, breathing deeply. 

“And if we can’t find anything there’s always my boots, or coat.”

“You would offer me those?”  Gale looks you up and down like he had when you’d first met.

You shrug.  “Of course.  Oh, do you need them now?  Because I just need to sit down to get them—”

You lift a foot as you walk, nearly stumbling to the ground when Gale stops you.  “No, no, I’m fine for now.   I am just—very grateful to have such a generous companion.”

“It’s not really generosity if it’s something you need though,” you argue.  

Gale smiles gently but moves on.  “So what’s this I hear about you being a necromancer?”

Whatever emotion crosses your face makes him pull back and try to change the subject.  Regret, maybe, or pain.  You can’t focus on controlling your features with so much going on.   “I don’t want to be…that.  I can feel…I can feel where they are—like something is dragging behind me.  It’s heavy, but easy.  I don’t want it to be easy.”

“Just because something comes easily to you doesn’t mean you need to do it.”

You look up at him, unaware your gaze has been on the ground this whole time.  “But I did it by accident.  I can’t—I can’t exactly control it.”

“That’s no problem to learn,” Gale says, as if moving the dead was no harder than riding a bike.  “Learn to control it, and don’t use it.  Though if you can move a boar in your sleep you must have some considerably…powerful benefactors in Baldur’s Gate to deal with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to frighten you,” he says, “but if you can use magic without the intent, without the movements or incantations, then you hold a great power.  And that is something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the wealthy elite.”

Chosen.  Like Gale had once been of Mystra you too could be the preferred mortal of a god.

“Meaning there may be some unhappy people if I don’t use magic.”

“It’s only one possibility of many,” Gale assures you.  “And until we know more I am happy to help you control your magic.  I’m told I’m an excellent teacher.”

You twirl the staff between your fingers and laugh.  “It would be an honour to learn from you.”

Taglist:

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[adoregojo]

my place!

a/o: reader and megumi have mother-son time until someone stepped in.

he couldn't sleep.

as his sister sleeps peacefully besides him he kept staring at the ceiling hoping at some point sleep will catch him. well that went on for an almost an hour nothing successful. 

that when he decided to get up as quite as possible, avoiding to wake up tsumiki on the other side, closing the door behind him. as he walked a figure of a woman ahead of him cleaning the table of the kitchen and humming a random song, she didn't seem to notice megumi for a while.

he would never admit it but he liked her a lot, ever since she stepped in both his live and tsumiki has been a lot better. he finally got someone else to help with the homework, someone carry the house of little tsumiki shoulders so that she can focus more on her studies. he got more better at school and with the delicious meals welcoming them every day. their live had never been better.

but there's only problem. her lover was the most annoying unreasonable creature to be made. satoru gojo, that man can't cook to save his live, and he mix the white laundry with the color one, and doesn't bother to get any cleaning done. and he only walks them out of school just because his dear girlfriend asked him to.

he sometimes wonders what the hell did she see in him.

as she noticed his small form she straight up walked to him, "megumi, are you okay? did you have a nightmare or something?" asking as she kneeled down to meet his eyes, did he also mention she was so kind that he sometimes gets so overwhelmed with it. 

"no, just couldn't sleep." he say and she sighs with relief.

"i was wondering if i could stay up with you." she seemed hesitant for a moment but thinking about it, it wasn't a school night and she wasn't sleeping until satrou get back. maybe it's better than staying up alone all night, a little time with him wouldn't hurt.

she's the first to sat with patting the space beside her for him to sit, but instead he jumped on her lap making himself comfortable, she was surprised for a second then warped her arms around him gently.

he didn't know why he sat on her lap he just did it, and he felt an off warm thing in his chest not the feeling that make him want to throw up but the other one that brought him a small unnoticeable smile. they sat there watching a tv cartoon that little megumi enjoyed.

until the door slammed so hard that caused him to jump a little and hold tight on the arms around him, the tall white haired man stands there for a while he looked exhausted, his usual annoying smile was nowhere to be found rather a dead expression on his face, staring at nothing he closed the door and walked up to them.

"can't you knock? you could've waked up tsumiki." megumi asked annoyed with gojo's sudden behavior more annoyed that he didn't knowledge megumi's comment, but a hand gently held his shoulder and he turned to face her.

"megumi, do you mind getting a cup of water?" he hesitated for a moment, but eventually listened and got down from her warmth, mumbling how he only did it because she asked on his way.

she turned to satoru's face whose eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, she moved aside for him to sit but instead he thrown himself on the whole couch taking all space and his head resting on her lap, his breathing normal now and muscles are resting. 

she took off his sunglasses putting on the table. her hand gently brushed his hair then moved touching his face, his palm resting on her hand and his eyes are half closed like he was ready to fall asleep any moment.

"hard day?"

"you have no idea." his voice was rusty, must been a hard on.

"hey!, that's my place." the little boy stepped angrily threatening to spell the water.

"get lost brat."

"i was here first." megumi objected, trying te grab gojo, but damn was he heavy.

"my girl, my place. go sit on the other couch."

the little boy huffed angrily then looked at satour's beloved for help but she only gave him a 'sorry' smile.

he stormed off angrily to sit on the other couch, he's lucky that he was on her save arms because megumi would have smashed his head with the glass of water.

"hold up, isn't that past your bedtime?"

"shut up."

[coraniaid]

I think there's a problem with my Buffy DVDs. Is anyone else having this issue?

Whenever I go back to watch episodes from the high school seasons I keep seeing these really jarring scenes where a character played by Kristine Sutherland tells a character played by Sarah Michelle Gellar how much she loves her and where she keeps trying to reconnect with her and to find common interests and to understand what she's going through (even though ultimately she can't because other adults in the SMG character's life have sworn her to secrecy and the SMG character's problems are not something anybody could possibly reasonably guess). And in some episodes there are these weird moments where we cut to shots of the Kristine Sutherland character and the SMG character spending time together alone and smiling and hugging, almost as if they enjoy each other's company. Sometimes the Kristine Sutherland character will interact with the SMG character's friends, and they'll all make a point of saying how much they like her and how they wish their own parents were more like she is. And sometimes the Kristine Sutherland character will risk her life to protect the SMG character, or stand up for her against authority figures like her high school principal or the police, or tell her how proud of her she is, or try to comfort her when she's sick or unhappy, or surprise her with presents, or encourage her to imagine a positive future, or offer to fill in for her absentee father when he lets her down [you know, in exactly the way Giles doesn't] all while reassuring her that her parents' divorce wasn't her fault.

It's very confusing. It almost gives me the impression that Kristine Sutherland might deliberately and knowingly be playing Joyce Summers as some sort of complicated, fully rounded character who can't simply be reduced to the role of "good parent" or "bad parent", and that -- like many other supporting characters on the show -- the exact way she behaves varies significantly from episode to episode and from writer to writer. It's almost as if one of the few throughlines throughout the show's run is that, no matter what, Joyce's complicated and imperfect and changing relationship with Buffy is somehow a significant element that should inform the audience's understanding of who Buffy Summers is as a person.

In fact -- and please bear with me, because I know this sounds utterly absurd -- it's almost as if there might be as many as one adult woman on the show who deserves to be granted some of the nuance and sympathy we'd ordinarily only reserve for the sort of people who really deserve it. The Watcher who drugged his Slayer and gaslit her about it even when she came to him in tears (but he was only following orders, so that's okay!), for example, or the unrepentant mass murderers and demons and attempted rapists and all of Buffy's various terrible boyfriends. (Real people, in other words. People with inner lives and agency. You know: men.)

It's almost as if the show expects us to care about Joyce Summers as a person, even though she's committed the unpardonable sin of being a woman over the age of thirty.

But I know this can't be true -- I know these confusing scenes can't be part of the show I'm trying to watch -- because the experts on Tumblr.com have assured me that Joyce is simply a Bad Mother. That she means about as little to Buffy as her deadbeat dad Hank Summers [a character who only appears as himself twice across the whole show and who Buffy never actually says nice things about]. That Joyce is someone who Buffy only ever deludes herself into thinking that she misses after she's dead because she's in some sort of shock and unable to be properly "objective". So I know these characters on my screen can't be Joyce and Buffy -- Buffy can't be telling her mother she loves her as early as the third episode of the show; she's not even close to dead yet! -- they have to be from some other TV series that somehow got mixed up with my copy of Buffy when the DVDs were being produced.

Hence my dilemma. Does anybody know if there's a way I can get the defective discs replaced? My Buffy DVD collection is getting pretty old; is it too late to write in to the manufacturers and ask for a refund? Is this a region-specific problem, and is it likely to happen again if I buy a replacement set? Or should I just give up at this point and settle for the HD remaster?

I'd really love to be able to watch the version of the show where Joyce is simply a Bad Mother [because sometimes she treats Buffy poorly] and Giles is an uncomplicated Good Dad [because sometimes he treats Buffy with kindness] that you're all always talking about, it sounds really ...

... oh, no, sorry, I can't keep up the bit. That version of the show sounds like utter dogshit. Thank fuck it isn't real.

[heeology]

i can't runaway | l.hs

~~booting up~~ ~~now playing -- track 04:

<<<prev. track (03)

title credit/song inspo → "i can't runaway" - SEVENTEEN “If the remains of us dissolve, will my heart feel at ease? It doesn't stop any day”; “Because we were too beautiful to be left behind”; “Until all of your memories are erased, I can't run away”

synopsis → you’ve moved on, but he hasn’t. well, you at least thought you had, but once you’re about to make the biggest commitment of your life, you can’t help but feel a sense of uneasiness. especially when the man of your dreams is only a few feet away.

genre → angst, heartbreak, ex lovers, drabble

pairing → nonidol!heeseung x fem!reader

warnings → none !!

w.c. → 516

!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!

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This isn’t quite how you imagined for things to turn out. You always envisioned someone else standing in front of you, reciting their vows to you, holding your hand as they look lovingly into your eyes while you stand at the altar. There was always another name you thought you would be hearing the officiant say as they ask if they take you as their lawfully wedded wife, and yet, you find yourself in a completely opposite situation. You didn’t think much about just how much you would have longed to have him in this position until this very day, until you saw him on this very day. Planning your wedding was always something he and you had wanted to do together, and he knew this.

All of those late night talks, his fingers softly playing with your hair as he looked at you like his whole world revolved around you, tangled in sheets draped over your naked bodies, softly speaking to you about a future that is no longer going to happen, broken promises that seemed so seemed so set in stone at the time. Neither of you expected to be where you are today. You, in the dress you dreamed of marrying him in, with another man standing in front of you, and him on the groom's side of the altar. He almost wants to laugh at the irony of how things turned out, and yet, neither you or Heeseung take the chance to say anything when the officiant asks if anyone has any objections. 

When he does, you find yourself flicking your gaze over to Heeseung, who already has his eyes on you. You look away and back at the man you are currently promising your love and devotion to. Heeseung never looks away from you for the entirety of the ceremony, watching how you smile, how you speak, how you say the vows he always expected to hear from you said to someone else. He almost didn’t come, but decided to anyway, just so he could at least see how you would have looked if things ended up differently. It felt strange, at first, almost as though he was invited to the wedding he and you had planned so many times, talked about so many times, dreamt about. But he didn’t stop you, and you didn’t object.

The ceremony carrying on just confirms you were making the right decision, to yourself, at least. This is how things turned out. You had always believed that things happen for a reason. There is a reason why you said yes to someone else, why you were with someone else, why someone else wanted to marry you, and you sought comfort in these thoughts. Things happen for a reason. And yet, you can’t help but find the cruel irony of Heeseung being in your line of sight throughout the whole ceremony. Things happen for a reason, you tell yourself once again. But, possibly, Heeseung being here, your gaze always searching for him when it should be focused on someone else, is for a reason as well.

[the-ellia-west]

CHRISTIANS AND ANYONE ELSE WILLING TO LISTEN: A MESSAGE

@theweirdbox123 @homelessnerd @geminiagentgreen @carb0n-m0n0xide @glowsticks-and-jesus @thewritingautisticat

*Saying this mostly to myself, but it's also directed at you if you choose to listen*

The problem with thinking you're helpful gets your spirits up temporarily, it doesn't last forever. Because if you start seeing it as 'helpful' you'll start seeing yourself as 'useful' and that's not a good mindset to be in. Because God is the only one who can really HELP. God is the only one who can CHANGE. Who can make something that really MATTERS. Because being helpful in this world and not the spiritual one means nothing.

You can't think of yourself like an object. You are a God-given creation, and he and people love you. You are amazing for WHO you are, not what you can do.

Because if we're honest, No person really makes that much of a difference in history. But that doesn't matter to God, and neither should it matter to you. Because he created you as more than a speck of dust on a timeline, a few words in a history book

He created you with a mind, with feelings, with love and worth. The truth is, perspective is what matters. Things may be awful, but if we're honest, things have always been this bad, we've just never been old enough to understand it yet.

The world is sinful, the world is awful, the world is evil, and you should not trust it to have mercy on you. Because you are not of this world. You are worth so much more than all this suffering, all this pain, because you do not belong to it. You were made for so much more than this. You were made for a God who loves you, and he wants you to see that he loves you.

Even if it's hard and you have questions, and you hate him, and the world seems awful. You are a child of the one who reigns over sin and death, the one who triumphs over the devil who drags you down. And he loves you even when you hurt him and push him away, and he's WAITING for you to just see him and let him hold you in his arms.

Politics and despair and pain and suffering are all the things that Satan uses to take you, he offers you a lie disguised as love and you take it because you've never known the real love of a father who wants you to hold you in his arms and sing you to sleep, the love of a real father who protects you from death and asks you to follow him, while giving you the free will to refuse even it he knows it will hurt when you refuse. Because what is love if not letting someone go and waiting to see if they run to you, always ready to embrace them when they reach you, and tell them you've always been waiting.

And all of you who don't believe, I pray over you, I pray that you see the truth and see the one who loves you because I want better for you than this, I pray over you because he wants better for you than this, and Satan wants you, But he should not have you, because you are SO SO loved, and there is a whole world waiting for you if you'd just take the time to open your eyes and see it. Please. I wish for you to be saved.

And for those of you who do believe, Pray, pray like you're talking to a friend, pray like you're screaming to the sky that he hates you, pray in silence and let him surround you, pray against the devil, pray for opportunity and courage and love. Pray for friends and family. Be patient, because it will come to you, Endure the pain but do NOT Let it take you down. SATAN CAN'T HAVE YOU? DO YOU KNOW WHY? BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! BECAUSE GOD LOVES YOU! HE IS KING AND WE WILL NOT BACK DOWN. STAND UP! RISE! AND LOVE, EVEN IN THE DARK WHEN YOU CANNOT SEE. STAND, AND FACE THE SUN.

I do not know how to defend my beliefs, but I am not afraid. I've done enough standing aside. I'm ready to take my place in this world, I'm ready to let his love fill me and change me and to show it to all of you. Hate me, leave me, ridicule me, pull me down and beat me because you disagree, but I will be right here, and I will love you until the day the world ends. Because you are all my brothers and sisters, you are all children of the one and only true God, and he LOVES you so much.

I love you too. And I want you to be okay, I want to talk to you and help you and teach you if I can. If you'd like to talk about this or to me in any way, I welcome any form of communication, Bring it on.