#it's the way he is always thinking “I'm not good enough for B I need to be like him”

[littlefankingdom]

Jason when Batman is here: I kill people and I don't care! I will kill as much as I want! Do you have a problem, old man?!

Jason when he is with the Outlaws: Can you guys try to not kill people? My father isn't a fan. Thank you.

-

Jason when he is with anyone from the Batfam: Fuck Batman. Fuck Bruce.

Jason when he is with the Outlaws: I want Da- Bruce to love me so bad.

[namjooningera]

I'm unsure if your Request are open, deeply apologizing if I disturbed you.

: Need more yandere captivated stuff, like them constantly clinging to their sweet love, locking the bedroom door at night and only giving their captivated lover permission to leave the room only if they're awake. ♡

mwa, absolutely love your writing.

Their rules - Yandere JJK

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji

AN: the boys’ rules for you, plus them being clingy. A bit of the past and background before they kidnapped u ;3

TW: starving, slight Stockholm syndrome, manipulative

Ahhhh yess requests are open thanks for asking!! (≧∇≦)b

Gojo-

Hes unbearable. His rules are short and simple, but the man himself is insufferable.

He clings onto you, legs around your thighs, head on your chest, while you lay in bed. You try to push him off, but the man is so much bigger than you. He doesn’t move an inch, it was like trying to move a brick wall.

You remember the first time he giddily told you the rules.

“Ok ok listen-“ he said in the middle of giggles, then straightened up his back to look serious but it was obvious he was still giddy.

“Hum.. No touching the stove when I’m around, No watching tv, that’s a reward not a privilege, you can earn watching it. No ignoring me, no sleeping without giving me a kiss or cuddles.”

He hums. “there isn’t much sweet thing…I just want you to be happy.” But his smile is sickly and you know there’s more to what he’s saying.

You know there’s unspoken rules he doesn’t say, like how you need to constantly keep him in a good mood.

When you were first taken by him, you rejected his every advance. Every time he wanted kisses or cuddles or even something simple, like for you to look at him. You said no, turned away, and slumped in bed.

At first he let it go. He was patient. He was just happy that you were there. That you couldn’t talk to others, look at others, and your attention would all be to him in no time.

But you refused this little charade, and you could see him slowly start to become more agitated. It’s when he stopped coming home to make you dinner (the dinner you barely ever touched anyway), and the way you felt like he was forgetting about you.

He’d always refill the things you ran out of. The bottle of water on your-his nightstand. The sanitary items and hygiene products you use. He’d always refill the pantry with all your favorite snacks and sweets.

But he stopped. And that got scary. Your mind was already in shambles, now you were thinking, what if he’s going to leave you for dead? Stop refilling, stop visiting, until you pass away in this locked hell.

Finally, he came home tonight. Around midnight. He never came that late before- it was always around 8 pm or 9 when he was really late, he always made sure to come home early enough to make you dinner.

You were starving, and you peeked from the hallway to see him stumble in, then throw himself on the sofa and then the tv on.

You weren’t really allowed to watch tv. You wonder if you could earn it. You watched him slump over, eyes heavy with a glare. He never really looked like this, honestly he always looked giddy and happy. Happy to come home to you. But now he just looked angry, upset, pissed. But it never seemed like it was to you.

He never showed you he hates you, he just stopped trying- stopped talking to you.

But why did that seem scarier than just straight up punishing you?

You slowly took a few steps out of your peeking spot, to be in his eyesight. Normally he’d be delighted, thinking you came to ask him for something or you wanted to talk, anything really. But this time he didn’t even look up from the tv. As if you weren’t there, as if he didn’t notice you.

That just added to your nervousness.

So you decided to do something incredibly stupid.

You hated his giddy happy side, but for some reason, you missed it know. At least before, the aura of the home stayed light and happy. Even if you weren’t happy. But now, the tension is fucking palpable. It’s heavy, and disgusting. You feel scared to even walk a few steps that’s how heavy the air feels right now.

Slowly you walk over to him. He doesn’t budge. His arms are spread at the top of the sofa as his body slumps back onto the sofa. His legs are up on the coffee table, eyes directed solely to the tv.

You sit next to him carefully. Slowly, you start to scoot over to him, slowly. So that his arm over the sofa would carefully be put over you.

Finally you scooted close enough that your thighs touched, and that your head slightly leaned onto his shoulder.

You were scared he’d hit you, scream at you, hurt you. He’d never done that before but what was stopping him from doing it now? Yes he was gonna hurt you for being stubborn for ignoring him, he’s gonna-

“I missed you.” He said with a sigh, eyes tired that bore into you, his voice was almost shaky, it was obvious he wasn’t feeling well. The arm laying on the top of the couch fell onto your shoulders, pulling you in. Cradling your body.

“You hungry?”

Yes, fuck yes. You’ve barely eaten in the last few days, solely relying on your pantry of snacks and sweets alone to quench your hungry, since he stopped making meals for you.

You nodded quickly and he smiled softly and ruffled your hair.

“Alright- too tired to cook. Let’s just order in ok?”

You nod immediately, digging yourself in more into his body. He smiles at this. You know you shouldn’t be touching him, listening to his dumb rules and letting him control you like this.

But you couldn’t help it. Things were just so much easier when he was happy. You got to eat, watch tv, and sure, you hated touching him, but he was just so warm.

That’s why, fast forward to now, you let him cling onto you in bed. Whining bout his day and how he doesn’t have enough time with you. How if he could just open your rib cage and snuggle inside, stay warm and with you forever he would. You think he’s crazy, weird, gross, but you don’t comment on it. You let him think your okay with all this, you let him nibble on your collarbone and let him whisper how he’s never gonna let you go, how your his for life and how he loves you like none before.

He’s warm. You notice. You notice his heartbeat, his breath on your collarbone, his eyes full of hearts and swelling with love. The way he huffs every time you slightly move away.

“H-hey umm I need to use the toilet can you move-“

“Can I come?”

Oh god.

Geto-

His rules were unknown honestly. He didn’t outright say any, he wanted you to think you had freedom. Like you weren’t being held hostage in his home. As if you were just his lover living with him. Like you had free rein.

As if he didn’t lock the bedroom door every night, thinking you were fast asleep. Like he didn’t keep track of every time you used the restroom, the shower, did your skincare and ate. As if he didn’t have those times and dates and stamps of every time you did so, so he could keep track of every little thing you did.

He wanted you to be happy and free in your home, he called it. After it all, he built it on all your necessities, all the things you use and like, so it is your home. It was made for you.

But there are the unspoken rules.

He hates when you get up from bed in the night, to go use the restroom. He wakes up in a jump, eyes wide and exploring the room, his hands roughly shoving the blankets off the bed to see your not there.

He panics. And he knows he shouldn’t. There are alarms everywhere, he has a tracker on you, he knows when you leave and when you stay and where you are at all times. He gets up quickly however, feet scampering to the bathroom door where he knocks on it slightly, asking you to come out.

He’s always been an okay-amount of clingy. But he panics a lot. He doesn’t show it- but he does. He thinks you’ll leave, you’ll die- or something. Maybe someone else will snatch you- a “monkey” or some curse. He’s seen the real world he knows how dangerous the average person can be so could you imagine blood thirsty curses? Ready to swipe your small body at any second and have you for a second dinner?

He’d never let that happen.

And he wants you to reassure him. He won’t ask for it but he needs it. Desperately. Tell him you won’t leave, you won’t die, that your safe- that he’s safe. That you’ll be together forever.

But you don’t. Because you hate him.

You use to, when you two were actually friends- no, best friends. You’d tell him all the time that he was safe with you, that your his best friend and you’d make sure that the both of you live a long and healthy life- together.

And that’s what stayed in his mind. Why’d you break your promise? Why’d you have to stop telling him these sweet things? Is it not true anymore? Are we not safe? Are you gonna leave- be taken away? Don’t leave.

He wakes from a bitter nightmare that same night. A treacherous feeling crawling his spine, panic in his eyes and his body thrashing. He looks at you. His sweet Angel. You could never do him wrong. But he needs your comfort, your reassurance.

“Angel? Angel wake up, please.”

You refused to, ignoring his please. The truth is, his panicking in his sleep woke you long ago, but you didn’t want to wake him up from his little nightmare. You perhaps wanted him to suffer just a little longer.

“Angel? P-please just..”

You rolled your eyes, body facing away from him on your side, still faking your sleep. He could deal with this on his own. You know one of his huge rules was to comfort him and nurse him like you used to- one of his unspoken rules. You know this because just a day after he kidnapped you, he came home with what he called “monkey blood” all over him.

He wanted you to clean him. Tell him to stop calling humans monkeys. He wanted you to bring him back, to keep him from the evil that plastered his mind. Because you were the only one who kept him a clear head, that kept him sane and on earth. Otherwise, who knows what he’d be now?

That day, when you didn’t comfort him, the day after he kidnapped you, he became desperate. Begging you almost, but then he stopped. Like a cloud of indifference and anger covered his eyes and he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you into a closet and locking you in.

You screamed, yelled, begged him to let you out. You went through all stages of grief basically, angrily screaming, then begging, tearing up, then calming down and crawling into a little ball in the corner of the closet. It was dark, cold, miserable. Dust got in your hair and eyes, you tried to dust it away with your hands but you felt so dirty. You just hoped he’d let you out soon.

He only left you for an hour or two- you don’t really remember. He didn’t wanna be too harsh on your first punishment. He still loved you after all, you were just being a brat. But then he dragged you out and sat you down at the dinner table. He acted like nothing was wrong, smiling at you and picking up a spoon of the food he made. He put it to your mouth, trying to feed you. You shook and trembled. You knew you couldn’t say no, or who knows how long he’d keep you in that damn closet? At least you’re free now right? You ate the food off his spoon, and let him feed you for the rest of dinner.

He was so incredibly happy that you were obeying him so early in the “relationship”, that he didn’t put you back into the closet, but instead let you watch tv. Of course, not without him sitting under the couch, while you sat on the sofa with your legs dangling on his shoulders, brushing his hair and braiding it like you did when you two were best friends. Before things changed.

“Angel please, I need you.” He almost whimpered.

You sighed, and got up, turning your body to him. “What was the dream bout this time?”

He’s always had nightmares, about different things. When you were best friends, he refrained from telling you them. Just wanted you to tell him it was okay, he just wanted to hear your voice and be lulled back to sleep.

Now he won’t shut up about them. Shameless, you think.

“Oh Angel.” He pulls you into his chest, a very much unwanted hug, one hand on your head and the other wrapped around your waist, he pulls the covers back on top of the both of you.

“It was terrible. You were hurt, my dear. Don’t you see why I have to keep you? You hurt- that would destroy me, my love.”

His words disgust you, but what really disgusts you is the way you know he isn’t lying. You can hear the genuine concern in his voice, that he genuinely thinks this is helping you, not just for his own selfish desire.

“Oh Angel, if you left- I wouldn’t know what to do.”

And that scares you. That scares you because he knows damn well you can’t leave. The cameras, the security, the alarms and the tracker. The way he tightly holds you as if your going to disappear into thin air. The way your almost out of oxygen with the tight hold, your chest and ribs being smushed against his. You could feel his heart beat, you could feel it trying to pounce out his rib cage.

“I won’t leave.”

What you meant to say is that you can’t leave, there’s no way for you to anyway, but you glance up at him and see that what you said was the right thing to say, a smile adoring his lips as he kissed your head softly.

“My sweet Angel. You always know what to say.”

Or you just know what he wants to hear.

Nanami-

Nanami had so many rules, regulations, all these things you had to remember.

“You need to ask me permission for certain things. Entertainment is a privilege you’ll be rewarded with. I have books and art supplies you’ll be using before screen time. Healthy snacks only- with the exception of dessert after dinner. You don’t get dessert if you’re being bad.”

He sits on the coffee table in front of you, wearing his work clothes, a nice suit and some goggles in his hands. You sit on the sofa in front of him, arms crossed in your chest out of anger but you listen anyway.

“The better you are the more freedom you have, my dear. I’d never want to take away the things that make you happy, but I can’t stop myself if your being bad. I want you in bed by midnight, or you sleep when I do. If I’m late from work and can’t make dinner I’ll send some- you’re not allowed in the kitchen until you get the privilege of it. You have a pantry full of snacks and healthy foods, and a water dispenser until I can come home and make dinner. I will make breakfast every morning.”

His damn rules and regulations go on forever, but at least you know what will make him upset and what won’t.

“Once you can prove your a good girl/boy, I’ll provide you with more electronics for your own entertainment, but screen time will be limited. I expect you to keep up with your hygiene and get enough sleep, eat well and continue your hobbies. I’d like you to greet me in the morning before I leave and at night when I come home- obviously this rule varies on the circumstances of the day.”

You sigh, further sinking into the sofa as he talks you down further.

“In the future, I expect goodbye kisses and greetings. If you ever need anything you just need to ask me. If you’re thinking on picking up a new hobby, you want new clothes, different snacks- I expect you to tell me. And lastly, you are never allowed to go to sleep angry. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I never want to argue before bed, and sleep angry with each other. We need to hash things out everytime, I don’t think it’s fair to each other, otherwise.”

You just nod, half the things going over your head but you know you should agree.

“Alright I’ll be home early today, okay? Goodbye my dear.” He gets up and stands near the door, waiting.

You look up at him from the sofa, then realize what he’s waiting for.

“Just leave.” You say upset, curling up into the sofa. He frowns, but leaves anyway, waving goodbye.

He had just kidnapped you. What was it the second day? He abducted you last night. Let you in on all the fun rules today.

Great.

Honestly, you’re still freaking out in your head a bit about all this. At first you thought it was some curse disguised as him, but you could sense his cursed energy was all him. No trickery, no fakes, it was him. He fought so hard but you were no match for him.

You definitely could have been, and that makes you laugh. You really could have. But he’s been watching you since high school. Watching your techniques, your moves, the way your body sways in fight and the way you dodge. The way you attack, everything. You’ve fought him plenty of times to train and for fun. You never thought- you never once thought he’d use it against you.

That he memorized your every move, adapted, the way he knew exactly what way you’d fight back, what way you’d dodge what way you’d try and escape.

How could he?

You were so upset, so betrayed. It hurt so much. You curled into yourself, upset, thinking bout the way he basically took advantage of you as friends. You thought you were fighting beside him, were you really just fighting him all along?

That day he came home, and saw you laid out on the couch, dried tears on your cute pink cheeks, your body curled to protect yourself, fast asleep.

He smiles at you, but it’s a soft sentimental one, one that has a hint of sadness.

He didn’t want to hurt you. Genuinely. But he couldn’t help it. Every year, being thrown into a friendzone, every year his obsession for you grew, he wanted you as his wife not best friend, every year he saw himself grow older- and was scared. What if he grew too old to get married? To have a family? Each year you showed the same care you should your friends, nothing grew into sweet love for him, and that scared him. In high school, he waited. Hoping that you’d mature and grow to love him. He stayed by your side hoping he wouldn’t have to do anything drastic.

But the time passes anyway.

And you didn’t seem to change.

And he carries you to your bed, their bed. The bed you share. When he places you down he caresses your head and hair, you kick him away in your sleep and that hurts him so deeply. He locks the door, sits on your bed and watches you. He had to do this. Don’t you see?

The way you would smile at him, laugh with him, love his seriousness and fight beside him. He loved that all about you. You two were meant for more then a measly friendship right?

He pulls you to him in your sleep, cuddling your unconscious body, snuggling his face into your nape and softly pecking your collarbone. He smiles at the way you whine in your sleep, trying to push him away and stop being smothered.

But he loves to smother you- he won’t stop. He lays almost on top of you, head in your nape, as he softly caressed your waist and hips, pecking your collarbone, smiling dazedly, almost drunk, off the cute sleeping sounds that leave your mouth, the breaths that leave your nose, the soft heaving of your chest.

He loves how domestic this is. His wife/hubby, his adorable lover and partner. His equal and forever. He believes that you two have always been together, that you’ve always cared for him as much as he cared for you- you just don’t realize it.

He eyes become heavy. Being in your arms (not that you were trying to keep him there), reminds him how relaxed he feels in them, that they make him drowsy and almost high off the feeling. His body almost slumps over, un-tensing. He had a long day of work. It was nice to come home to his loved one, to be in your arms, to be held and to hold.

If he could stay like this forever, the time not continuing, just you and him in a warp of space where time doesn’t exist, where you could be one. Where he could cherish you and spoil you forever and ever- reliving the lovely memories from when you were young.

A smile softly sets on his face as he falls asleep snuggled to you, he thinks, that he doesn’t need to live in the past. You two can make new memories, better ones. Memories, where you actually love him, not just as a friend, but as a lover.

His lover.

Toji-

He didn’t really have rules for you. He didn’t care too much about physical affection, sure he liked the average kiss on the cheek before he left to assassin some idiot. He wanted your attention obviously, but he didn’t mind you being a brat and never giving it to him.

“Alright I’m going to work.” He’s waiting for you. He’s waiting for you to run up to him and kiss his cheeks, tell him you love him, at least wish him goodbye. He felt desperate. Sad. He wanted you to just- why are you being so bratty?

“I’m going to work.”

He’s at the door, hand on the handle. You’re sitting on the couch. He lets you watch tv, sometimes he’s happy when you accidentally come across the news channel and see all the disgusting shit on the news, all those disgusting heinous crimes. Maybe someday you’ll see those and understand. Know that he did this all for you, it’s all for your own good. As cliche as that sounds.

“Im going-“ “Ok I get it!” You basically yelled.

He seemed startled. That’s when he starts to wonder if he was giving you too much freedom. You yelled at him. How could you? You want him gone, you want him to leave.

Alright he’ll give you what you want.

That day he came home, and cleared out the pantries and locked up the fridge. He left the next morning, telling you he had some mission that’ll last a few days. You just shrugged at him like normal, pretty happy you’d get a break from him.

But you didn’t realize his plan. His stupid crazy fucking smart plan. You opened the pantry. Nothing, just a few things you can’t really eat. Like a half full jar of peanut butter, uncooked pasta, some can of tuna. You opened the other drawers and cabinets. Condiments only basically. Salts and spices. But where was the food? Ok, it’s fine. You’ll cook something, grab some things in the fridge- wait what? Why was there.. a lock? Why’s it locked? It was never locked- oh. He did this. This is your punishment.

No, you’ll take it. If he wants to be an ass- you’ll just be even pettier and go with it. Then he’ll know not to test you right? He’ll essentially get worried that your not eating, then go buy more food and unlock the fridge.

Boom. Great plan right? Wrong.

Your stomach growled. It was what, the third day in to not eating? You thought you had more resistance then that- that you could hold back for longer. But no, your stomach was in pain and you felt yourself growing weaker.

You felt yourself getting desperate.

You decided to emergency call Toji. He had one attached to the security, where you could only call him, if ever an emergency while he wasn’t home.

You went up to the little screen on the wall next to the door, an iPad connected to all the security, well only he could access that part. What you could access, is the emergency call. But before you pressed the button to call you stopped yourself. Fuck you were hungry, but you couldn’t give in. Plus you knew he was angry. He wouldn’t just give in.

You needed to sweeten him up. You knew that he won’t just give in if you ask for food.

You slightly press the button, hearing it ring for a second before he picked ul and answered.

“What?”

Normally, he’d be asking if your okay, if you needed him, what’s the emergency. You know, all that. When he was actually worried. You gulped.

“O-oh! Yeah I called because I umm.. I miss you?” Yeah, not so convincing.

“Yeah, doll?”

“..yeah. When you coming home?”

“I don’t know.”

… He’d never answer like that before. He was being so dry? What was his plan? But then, the hunger, the dizziness, the weakness in your bones- you started to overthink. You started to think that perhaps he wasn’t coming home. He was going to leave you forever in this locked cage, alone, to die. And then you thought, what if his mission is going bad? And that’s why he isn’t being clear? What if he really doesn’t know when he’s coming home because where he is, is so dangerous he isn’t sure if he even will come home?

But if he dies, you die. If he dies, you die. If he dies you die if he dies you-

“TOJI please! Please please come home I can’t- I can’t be here alone anymore- I need you. Please Toji don’t die-“

“Die? Doll? What’s wrong?”

You start to sniffle, thinking about your own death. Thinking about different ways you’d die out, and all leads to one- alone. You didn’t wanna starve to death alone. You couldn’t.

“P-please? Come home? Miss you..” the genuine upsetness in your voice seriously surprised him.

“Ok doll. I think I can get home by tonight ok?”

“Toji?” You ask softly, sniffling.

“Yeah doll?”

“I feel so sick.” You whine, clearing your throat.

It’s like you could feel him smile from the other end. “Alright doll, don’t worry, m’ coming home soon. I’ll bring you some things on my way back. Kay?”

You nod, even though you know he can’t see you nod, he chuckled over the line as if he did.

This time, when he comes home, grocery bags in hand, you run up to him to greet him. Never like you used to.

It’s funny, you almost jumped on the man, you almost hugged him, you stopped yourself before you could, your mind reminding you that he’s your captor. That you hate him, that he tricked you and he’s evil and- oh but he’s so warm. You haven’t felt physical affection for so long. And he’s just so big like a cuddly bear. And you just- you can’t have him leave again okay? This isn’t fault. You’re not about to hug him because you want to, okay? It’s just.. you don’t want him to starve you again ok? Really it’s not because you.. you think he’s so cuddly. You think he’s so warm and inviting. And you could smell the food wafting from the bags he held- did he buy takeout? Oh my god- and from your favorite fucking place-

You softly put your hands around his waist, head on his chest, just holding him gently, scared that perhaps that wasn’t him but some figment of your imagination.

“Oh sweeeheart, you missed me that much, hm?”

You just nod, feeling disgusted but oh so satisfied. You don’t wanna look at him, you know you’ll be met with some smug smirk, that smirk showing that he knows he won, that now, you won’t exactly take him for granted.

“I brought take out cmon.”

Tehe I’d let them take me 😋 anyway, thank you sm for the ask! Requests are open yall! Also feel free to give me commentary! I don’t rlly write so 😭

[gentlemanjuniper]

If I could inject just a little positivity to the news...

Season 2 has a lot of filler and stretches out a pretty simple mystery to six episodes. That's the appeal to some, I get it. But tightness and focus was not its strong suit. I remember feeling like it wasted a ton of time on side characters and it's possible shaving the story down to 90 minutes will skim things down to its most essential beats and be stronger for it. Basically, S2 got a lot of time given to it, and this is obviously my personal opinion but I don't think it used all of it well. I think S2 itself could have been half the length simply by employing more efficient storytelling and we'd not mourn too much.

A lot of S2's weaker plotlines feel built around people that Neil wanted to work with again, with so many recurring actors (I'm thinking of the zombies specifically, when that minisode could have easily been tighter without them). A lot of s2 to me feels like Neil just making work for the people he likes and wants to work with and a movie has to be more accountable to things like that.

Lots of entire fandoms exist around single movies. 90 minutes is not nothing. It's enough for many, many films to tell a complete story with cute character interactions and satisfying emotional arcs, especially when A&C are the only real significant connecting threads between both seasons thus far.

I don't think there are as many loose threads that absolutely need resolving as people may be thinking. Would I like to know why Aziraphale did the '40s apology dance? Would I like to see his bookshop gun? Sure. Are either of those necessarily essential to closing out the story? I don't think so. Really, what needs resolving is the second coming and, directly connected to that, Aziraphale and Crowley's rift. To me, not knowing the story obviously, that seems super reasonable to do in 90 minutes?

I don't think anyone involved in the final season can possibly be blind to the appeal of the show being Aziraphale and Crowley over anything else. That's certainly the reason why their roles were expanded to begin with from the book and why the second season was, nominally, all about them. They also now have to pay MS and DT for appearing in a movie rather than an ensemble show, there's no way they won't be front and center. Amazon wants a show that will make money and market itself; there's a reason why all the promo material for S2 was of Crowley and Aziraphale, because people engage with that stuff, reblog it, make art that promotes the show, etc. It makes no artistic or financial sense to make a movie that sidelines them.

GO is at its best when it has Terry's voice most strongly in it. That's why to me, S2 was a weaker, more meandering season overall (that, and I think the minisodes, while fun, just make the season feel comprised of different voices not always working in tandem towards a common goal). If I was a writer hired to condense a season into a film, and one of the authors had been rightfully disgraced, I would go out of my way to ensure the clearly Terry stuff is most significantly emphasized. It's telling to me that the Pratchett estate is producing and it's possible that the end result will result in more Terry, less Neil.

Think of it this way: everything we've gotten after S1 has always been extra. Imagine telling a fan of the book in the 90s that not only will you get a six episode adaptation, you also get a totally new second season, AND a movie?

Basically: I know this is disappointing but I think a lot of the pleasure of the Good Omens fandom was ALWAYS people picking up on and expanding on details, and y'all managed to do that just fine when A&C were only ensemble members in S1. You can and will do that with a movie too. And this solution both a) ensures first and foremost that Neil won't be involved or the allegations swept under the rug, and b) gives an opportunity for the heart of the story to be emphasized with greater focus, clarity and less filler.

Will we lose good stuff? Probably. But it's also possible we will get a tighter, more condensed, focused version of the best bits, the Terry Pratchett-est bits. I can easily see a 90 minute movie that, knowing they HAVE to focus on the important stuff now, is more Crowley and Aziraphale centric than ever.

[chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise]

tangled

JJ Maybank x toddler!sister!reader

(REQUEST): thinking of baby sister maybank maybe being 1-2 and jj is really struggling with her hair, and he wants her hair out of her face but doesn’t know what to do. so sarah and kie step in

warning(s): N/A

a/n: thank you for the request, m'love. if i'm being honest i may rewrite this in the future because i have unfortunately had very little motivation to write this week. :( but even still i hope that you enjoy.

also, to everyone who has written me a request, i promise i'm working on them! they should all hopefully be finished by this week or the next.

“Ow!” Y/N squeaked, her plump digits failing to swat away JJ’s hands.

Her elder brother huffed, struggling to tame the toddler’s head of unruly curls. It was hard enough to pull all of the odds and ends of her hair into a ponytail far too small for his large fingers–let alone when she was intervening in the already troublesome process. 

“I know, I know,” JJ said, instinctively jutting out one of his hands to keep a wriggling Y/N from jumping out of his lap. He just barely managed to foil yet another one of her escape attempts. “You’ve just gotta sit still for a minute, peanut. Almost done.”

Y/N continued to whine, squinting against the harsh sun whilst JJ fiddled around with an elastic band in several failed attempts to create a functioning ponytail. The task only got harder as time trekked on—Y/N was antsy to join Kie and Sarah up at the bow of the HMS Pogue, and the more she tried to squirm her way to freedom, the worse JJ’s makeshift ponytails became.

“Jesus, dude. What the Hell are you doin’ to our mini Pogue, huh?” John B teased from the helm after several minutes of Y/N’s aggravated complaints, tonguing his cheek in amusement.

JJ had managed to get a good chunk of Y/N’s hair held sturdily away from her face, but several of her thick curls still fell like a veil over her large blue eyes. 

“Don’t listen to him, Jay. You’re a pro,” Pope laughed from behind him. JJ glared from behind the lenses of his shades.

“Ha-ha-fucking-ha. You ever tried to do this shit, man? It’s harder than it looks.”

The girls laughed as they caught a glimpse of JJ’s masterpiece. Y/N pouted, blonde curls spilling over her chubby face. “Need some help over there, Jay?” Kiara finally asked, taking pity on JJ who now wore a nearly identical pout to his baby sister. 

The boy sighed, running a hand through his own hair. “Please.” He scooped up his sister and carefully set her down on her unstable feet. “She’s all yours.”

Y/N, content with her newfound freedom, barrelled over to where her favourite Pogues had been sitting all afternoon: lounging around as they tanned and took swigs from their respective beers. Sarah laughed as the young girl fell onto her legs, wasting no time in sitting the little firecracker between herself and Kie.

“Wow,” Sarah said, observing the elder Maybank’s work up close. It was worse than she thought. “JJ really did a number on you, huh?”

“Jay bad at hair!” Y/N accused, brows furrowed in annoyance as she pointed a crude finger at her big brother. JJ rolled his eyes.

“Did better than you could've, peanut.” Y/N stuck out her tongue in response, and the girls chuckled as JJ reciprocated her gesture.

“Don’t worry, Y/N/N. We’ll take care of it,” Kie said, carefully undoing JJ’s handiwork without so much of a wince from the toddler. Sarah dipped into her bag to find a hairbrush and the few extra elastics she always kept on hand. “Gonna make you look so pretty, bub.”

“Promise?” The little girl beamed up at her, and Kie lightly pinched at her cheek.

“Promise.”

It took an embarrassingly short period of time for Kie and Sarah to get Y/N’s hair in order, brushing it into two braided pigtails on either side of her small head. The smile never left Y/N’s face as they worked, efficient and gentle in their process—the complete opposite to JJ’s hectic routine.

“Alrighty,” Sarah declared as she manoeuvred the final hairband, twisting the elastic a few extra times around the toddler’s braid to keep it in place. “You’re all done, Y/N!”

“I look pretty?” Y/N asked, eyes shining with anticipation. Kiara tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

“The prettiest.”

Y/N wasted no time in toddling back over to where JJ was now busy talking to the other two boys, her cheeks dimpled with pride.  “Jay!” She cheered, bouncing with excitement. The blond looked down at her, a grin breaking out over his face as he caught sight of his baby sister’s new hairdo. “Pretty?”

JJ chuckled, lifting her back into his lap and pressing a sloppy kiss to her nose.

“Beautiful as ever, munchkin.” Y/N wrapped her small arms around his bronzed shoulders, and JJ gave another quick kiss to her temple. “What’d’ya say we get Kie and Sarah to do your hair all the time now, huh?”

He barely had enough time to complete his sentence as an empty beer can came flying at his shoulder, thrown by a now smirking Kiara.

“You wish, Maybank!”

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

Lucien - NSFW alphabet

This is the 3th alphabet of my 1,3k followers celebration. This is one of my favourites that I've written :) 18+!! Warning: smut (gifs too)! Let me know if you like the gifs or if you don't like them... PS: Lucien, my dear husband, I love you so much. There should be more of you on this app.

Previous alphabets: Rhys, Cassian

◦◦⋆⋆✧◦◦⋆⋆✧◦◦⋆⋆✧◦◦⋆⋆

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's the sweetest after you've had sex. He grabs a washing cloth and something to eat and drink. He has the most adorable look on his face when he does this for you (one of his love languages is acts of service).

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

You love his hair, the long locks are so beautiful and soft. You love to play with it or braid it. In terms of your sex life and his hair... You constantly have the locks in your hands. You always grip it when he's fucking you or eating you out. Sometimes he has that pleading look on his face, begging you to pull his hair without needing to use any words.

Lucien is obsessed with your legs, he thinks they're beautiful. He strokes them when he's sitting next to you, but he also does it while he's fucking you. It's his way of showing affection. He also likes to put your legs in all sorts of positions where he can easily grab them. This man watches your legs in the most unsubtle way ever when you walk by.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Lucien comes a lot and likes to play with it afterwards. When he comes in you, he fingers it back in. And when he comes on you he licks it off or he makes you lick it off his fingers. That's enough to turn him on again and restart it all (to then again, push it in you). "We can't let it go to waste isn't that right baby?". "I have to make sure you are as full as possible"

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He just wants to hear he's your good boy, the praise makes him go wild. He begs you to say it again and again. The look in his eyes changes immediately when you say that name, he looks so desperate for you :(

"I'm your good boy" or "I'll be good I promise, just touch me baby, please")

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

In terms of places he's fucked? He is experienced. He didn't have that much lovers, but he has fucked girls from the autumn court, men from the spring court,... He had lovers in all courts of Prythian.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Riding him but you're pressed against his chest. He prefers when you ride him when he's sitting on the side of the bed and you're straddling him. He loves regular cow girl too.

69!!!!

Fucking you from behind, but you are laying on your stomach and his full body is on top of you, his chest against your back. This way he can be as close as possible while fucking you hard and fast and whisper filthy things in your ears. I can't help but put a gif in here for this:

Spooning, his face breathing in your neck and hands not leaving your tits

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He is pretty serious but with the right amount of teasing and sarcasm (just a reminder of the first book, love book 1 Lucien)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Carpet matches the drapes yes. He also shaves, cause sometimes he is embarrassed because of the color :( :( :(

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Lucien is very intimate. He always tries to have you as close as possible to him when he fucks you. Your foreheads pressed to each other, his lips over your whole body or his face pressed into your neck.

This man also says 'I love you' a lot during sex, and when you say it, he comes immediately because of the intimacy <3 HE HOLDS YOUR HANDS!! I have to put in another gif for this man:

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Lucien looooves mutual masturbation. Facing each other while you're touching yourselves, staring into your eyes passionately. He just gets so turned on when he sees you moaning and writhing, pleasuring yourself (and he loves to make a remark about how it's not enough because it aren't his fingers, this makes him so smug ugh). "Yes pretty girl, touch yourself for me", "Pretend those fingers are mine, you like to think about that don't you?" he says while tugging on his own cock.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hair pulling. Both ways. He loves to pull your hair when he's fucking you from behind. He is the kind of person who grabs it so messily and intimately, his fingers sprawled out over your whole head, the strands loosely tucked in between his finger.

But yeah, he also loves when you tug his hair. He doesn't have that beautiful long locks for nothing. Like i've said, he always has a pleading look on his face when he wants you to tug, so you always know when to do it. But sometimes you like to wait and make him beg, those eyes are so pretty when he begs. Lucien moans so loud when you eventually pull.

He also has a big praise kink, he needs it, and you need it

Breeding!!! He wants a family, he wants you full of his cum. The first time you begged him to come in you he came so hard, a fraction of his powers showed (the male lit up the whole bedroom with those blinding lights)

And following that... he likes to play with his powers (the fire and the light)

He also loves to rub his cock against your clit and then cum like that on your pussy

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Lucien is basically the mister worldwide of Prythian , he likes to fuck you in all kinds of different places around Prythian. It's like this big challenge he made up for himself. He's already fucked you in the fields of the spring court, on Helion's throne in the day court, in an abandoned alley in Velaris,.. and in a room next to Beron's in the autumn court.

Now he only needs to fuck you in the winter, summer and dawn court and his mission is completed.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Domestic life with you. When you are cooking he gets turned on and grabs your hips while kissing your neck. "You would be such a good mom, maybe I should fuck a baby into you?"

Oddly enough, he gets turned on when he sees you riding a horse. Obviously it reminds him of the way you ride him, bouncing up and down so graciously. But he doesn't dare to admit it because you would tease him if you found out. He's just staring at your body the whole time. "What are you looking at baby?" you ask. "Nothing nothing" he answers, shaking his head.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Even though he likes hair pulling and some spanking, he wouldn't like it when he hurts you too much. Also, things like knife play are not for him (this male has trauma).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers giving but he loves receiving equally. He gets very turned on when he's eating you out so that's why he loves 69. It feels amazing when he groans into your pussy because of the way you suck him off.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's sensual but more in a fast paced way. He fucks you hard and fast, but it's very passionate.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes, when he is traveling for his emissary business he loves quickies. Against a tree? In a cabin in the woods? In a room in some random High Lord's palace? Yes.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Like I've mentioned, he loves trying out new places. You and him try out new things the whole time, searching for what you both like or dislike.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He goes for many rounds, especially when you're ovulating. He always seems to know when it's that time. Lucien just has to make sure you have as much of his cum in you as possible then.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No, but just because he doesn't know about them. Otherwise he would go crazy and buy all sorts of toys at once, spending tons of money on it. He would come home with a broad smile on his face "You'll never guess what I found, baby" he smirks.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is a sarcastic king and that does make him a tease. More in words than in actions though. When he gets out of the shower: "You like what you see honey?" Or "I'm sure we can get your pretty lips to better use, don't you think bunny?"

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Lucien is loud. And he isn’t shy about it. He just loves to show you how much he enjoys himself, so he moans, groans, grunts,…

Bonus thought: I dreamed about this and it was so wild, I had to share it (there are phones I’m sorry). So you aren’t dating and he’s you’re best friend. You call him up because you need help with some paperwork. YOU KNOW WHAT THE MAN DOES? He picks up, but he talks with heavy breaths and moans. The man is fucking some girl and he still answers you?! I mean, Lu would definitely do this stuff. It’s so hot to hear those heave breaths when he talks to you and he knows very well how much it turns you on. “Omg Lucien what are you doing?” you ask shocked. He just keeps breathing heavily and moans, actikg like nothing’s happening. It makes you so horny and flustered (and jealous cause who’s that other girl?) My lord, this man is so hot and he knows it. Maybe I should just write this out in a separate fic

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You both love reading, so you try to recreate scenes from the books you're currently reading. Sometimes it's just spicy scenes, and he let's you read it while licking your pussy. But you also like to pretend you're characters from the books you always talk about (like role play).

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Lucien's longer than average, but it isn't that notable, just the right size. He genuinely has a pretty dick though. The color is golden brown and it has a big vein on the side. Like, I'm serious, it's really nice. How do I explain this, it's all very symmetrical lol. So yeah, sucking it is addictive ;)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Autumn court men have fire in their blood and fuck like it, right? So he would have a pretty high sex drive. On top of that he's Helion's son… (I don’t need to give more context on that)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He isn’t that sleepy but he loves the cuddle and trace little patterns on your hips. And because of the comfort of it all, he falls asleep easily.

[cannellee]

MIKEY! ALPHA! HEADCANONS! WE NEED THEM! i love all your works, please continue to try your best!! (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾ you’re the only blog that we can count on for amazing cute abo fanfics! ♡ 🍓

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ★

alpha! Mikey x omega! Reader

— tokyo revengers a/b/o headcanons

tw : mikey's a perv, outdoor sex.

my masterlist : ☆

(thank you so much anon!! I'm so happy you like my blog, thank you for keeping me motivated!!🫶🏼 I also included nsfw headcanons here since I had 2 other requests for alpha mikey which included this)

I think alpha mikey's main trait is that he's extremely protective.

he's protective but not in an overwhelming way, he's way more subtle than baji can be for example. glaring at anyone when you got your back turned, but he's giving you an angel face when you face him.

mikey's a walking warning for everyone and alphas know better than to challenge him.

you might think mikey is a passive type of lover, unbothered and going with the flow. people could think that you're the one leading the relationship but you're not.

as long as you're not hurting yourself or others are not bothering you, it's all good.

but a no from mikey is a no, and a firm one at that. no negotiations or compromises : mikey's your alpha and he knows better.

and that's why you trust him! you listen well and he loves that about you.

you're such a docile omega! mikey's melting everytime you obey him so quickly without questioning any of his words.

but he has to admit there's something about you being bratty that amuses him.

he loves to see you act all big and sassy : it makes him want to show just who is in charge!

but mikey's very soft. don't misinterpret his assertiveness as him being controlling. he cares about you and your opinions more than anything.

he takes your thoughts into account so much that a simple word from you could have him doubt himself.

he's anxious and always stressing over his capabilities of fulfilling his duty as your alpha.

this worry alone pushes him to do his very best at looking after you.

when you first met mikey, he knew you were gonna be his. he couldn't have it any other way. you were just so perfect for him : his complete opposite, a breath of fresh air.

if you had a partner when you met, you should have been ready to say bye to him because mikey was not letting you go around with someone that wasn't him.

one might think mikey's not attentive, reliable or understanding and that he's a bit detached, but that's a misconception.

actually, mikey's really soft and cares for you so freaking much :(

he's a huge fan of skinship, hugs, hand holdies and anything of the sort.

he lives for the attention you give him! if you're ignoring him too much for his liking, especially when you're out with people, he will kindly remind you of his presence and casually spread his pheromones.

mikey can act cute all he wants, but once anyone gets a sniff of his scent, they'll be fleeing far from the both of you.

his scent is literally threatening to anyone that's not you.

of course you don't know that, mikey doesn't want to scare you off. but he can't help but get overly jealous sometimes!

and it works everytime : nobody wants to get on his bad side.

also, don't expect mikey to make you food, he's hopeless when it comes to cooking. but he will be buying you toneless of snacks and sweets though.

but make him food and he falls in love all over again. food is literally mikey's weak spot and there's just something about seeing his omega takes care of her alpha the best she can that is so endearing and cute to him.

asks you to spoon feed him and while you do he'll 100% make a mess purposely & ask you to clean his mouth yourself...

he's down bad and always touching you. there's something primitive in him which highlights his possessive instincts whenever you show yourself a bit vulnerable to him

as your alpha, he feels deeply touched that you're feeling safe enough to show this side of yourself and does everything he can to assure you that you can, in fact, trust him fully.

your small frame and doe eyes looking up at him make you look so delicate, it sparks up his protective instincts and a comfortable sense of purpose. knowing he has someone to come back home to, someone who'll always be waiting for him warms his heart.

mikey is all about staying inside : he's a lazy and cuddly alpha, he could bet he's in heaven when you let him lay his head on your lap while playing with his hair.

your nest is his favourite place. he's inside of it even when you're not, even adds his own little plushies and stuff, scents them and rearrange your nest.

you constantly nag him about it because you hate it when someone is moving your nest, even if it's him.

he apologizes and offers to make up for it by eating you out lol.

he has no shame and is dying for your touch. he loves the way you taste! your slick is filled with your fruity scent and makes his head dizzy.

if you were to let him, mikey would be fucking you 24/7 without a rest. he's just addicted like that<3

don't expect him to be slow and gentle, mikey likes it rough and so do you, luckily.

expect to wake up the next morning covered with bruises and bite marks : he likes it so much when your whole body is a reminder of how much you belong to him!

let him scent you and claim you the way he wants and you have the happiest mikey on earth!

but mikey'll take you out! he loves late night dates and watching sunsets with you <3

always gives you his scent covered coat to keep away both the cold and unwanted attention from you.

during your walks, mikey's body and mind are only focused on you. his senses are alert, he's careful and very observing. nope, you're not getting out of his sight tonight and nobody's getting too close to you.

but it doesn't stop him from being a perv.

you've learned not to wear skirts or dresses when you're out : his hands magically grab the hem of your skirt and flick it just to sneak a peek at your undergarments.

the embarrassment you feel is insane, but what's more insane is the pool that's forming between your legs everytime he does so.

your arousal is so strong it drives mikey mad and you're somehow still surprised when he appears to not be able to control himself.

"my sweet omega, be good for me and spread your legs".

he ends up fucking you in a dark alley, your panty pushed on the side and your skirt all the way up with your bare ass out.

you're bend over with your hands on the wall while he's pounding into you from behind just the way you need it!

he's fucking your brains out and you find yourself crying both from pleasure and the exciting fear of being caught.

once you've both cumed, he carries you back to the safe place of your home where he can please you properly. because you and your pleasure matter more than his >:(

(and also because your aroused smell is enough to attract all the alphas of the neighbourhood and mikey doesn't want to fight when he's too busy burying his cock inside your warm pussy).

your presence gives him so much peace, there's not a day he's not grateful to have you. you're the only one who can make him sleep soundly at night and actually appreciate life.

his nightmares and urges are now under control. you keep him composed. just one look at you and your pheromones (his favourite smell) suffice to put his mind at ease.

the first time he introduced you to toman, he made sure they all acted right in front of you. they were a bit surprised by you and how kind you were compared to the invincible mikey, but everyone knew you were the perfect match <3

randomly calls you during the day and comes pick you up after school. he's your personal bodyguard and takes his job rather seriously tbh. asks you what you want to eat and buys everything you ask.

making sure you ate is his priority n.1! he needs to make sure you're well taken care of.

doesn't show it but he's always worried about you.

mikey doesn't let his emotions show, he only lets himself be vulnerable in the comfort of your embrace.

he's always carrying an item with your scent and expects you to do the same.

he's soo loving and affectionate, alpha mikey is the perfect mix between a guard dog and a big teddy bear. it's all about balance!

[elliewithcellie]

Lean On Me

summary: Steve needs someone to lean on, too

wc: 1.2k

cw: ANGST, Steve yells at you, curse words, you comfort Steve, gn!reader, let me know if I'm missing anything

a/n: first fic in a minute, and it's barely more than a blurb. I was inspired by a tiktok that said "if i don't see steve cry in season 5 i will riot" and i was like dude yes. I thought I would explore that a little but it turned more into just a hugfest. Either way, here it is.

It wasn’t until Steve dropped off the last of the kids that you noticed a slight change in his demeanor. You supposed he was quieter than usual, but the gang was so rowdy that it was hard for any of you to get a word in edge-wise. Otherwise, it was a meetup like any other. But now, with only the two of you left, Steve’s silence was astounding. Cicadas took silence’s place, chirping the last of their summer song. The streetlamp above flickered in rhythm, serving as the only light illuminating Steve’s solemn face. You dared to unstick your legs from the warm leather of the passenger seat, the sound disrupting his thoughts.

His eyes met yours and smiled, a strained effort in the lines of his face. His eyes were wide, searching for something, and you could tell he couldn’t find it in you.

“You all set?” he asked.

“I’m ready if you are.”

He nodded and pulled out into the road.

“I’m really glad we did this,” you said. “It’s always so good to see everyone again. It feels like home.”

He only hummed in response.

The tires treading over the road filled the voided conversation. Shadowed trees and homes remained your view from the window. You were scared that something happened, that something you did might have bothered him. You ventured to look at him again. His posture stayed upright and rigid, both hands on the wheel. His grip was tight, the tendons taking shape in his hold. His left foot bounced sporadically, and his chest rose and fell in deliberate breaths. And his eyes. His eyes raced frantically like he was reading, his eyebrows pinching together. He bit his bottom lip as if fighting something from getting through. There was something he was holding back. Something was wrong.

The car pulled up to your apartment complex. You opened the car door and paused to look back at Steve. His head was down, his eyebrows still furrowed.

“Steve?”

He looked up at you, a haze falling across his features, his eyes glassy, but the pained smile persisting.

“Would you like to come up? It’s still early, and I’ve been dying to make some cookies. I could use some help eating them all in one sitting.”

Steve chuckled to your surprise. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Sure.”

You both made your way up to your place, your heart racing with every bound up the stairs. You headed straight for the kitchen, and Steve followed you, opting for the stool by the counter.

You tried not to let Steve distract you. It was just premade dough, after all. But his energy filled the confines of your home, swallowing up your serenity and spitting out sorrow. It shook you. This wasn’t like him. This wasn’t him. You were desperate to help him, and it seemed cookies weren’t going to be enough.

“Steve?” you tried. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

You bit your lip. “It—it’s just that you’ve been really quiet today, and I’m just wondering if something happened or—”

“I told you. It’s nothing.” Steve’s breaths shortened, refusing to look at you.

“Are you sure? You know you can—”

“ENOUGH!” Steve jolted up from his chair. “If I wanted to talk, don’t you think I would have fucking talked by now? Jesus Christ!”

You flinched at his words. You were privy to his sarcastic, snide one-liners, but this was new.

Steve took a step back. His hands rattled at his sides, and his breaths shook with each exhale. His voice trembled as he spoke. “I’m sorry,” he said, taking another step back. “I shouldn’t—I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just tired. I—I should go.”

A million thoughts scrambled in your head. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to comfort him, but he scared you. He already snapped at you once. Continuing to pry when he may need to cool off could be detrimental. But you needed him to know that he could trust you with whatever was bothering him. You decided to tread carefully.

“If you want to go,” you spoke softly, “you can go. But whatever it is you’re dealing with, whatever it is you’re holding onto, you don’t have to deal with it alone. If you don’t want my help, that’s fine. But tell me. I know you, Steve. I know when something’s wrong. So please don’t lie to me.”

Steve stood still. Every muscle in his body tensed, his eyes frantic, his breathing short and shallow. He bit the inside of his cheek as if in a last-ditch effort to fight his consuming thoughts. Then his posture changed. His shoulders sank, his lip trembled, and he looked away.

“I…I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

And he cried. He wept in the entryway of your home, something you had never seen in your life. You rounded the kitchen counter and pulled Steve into your arms. He held you tight, his whole body shaking you. Tears soaked your shirt, but you didn’t care. Your hand found itself in his hair in an effort to soothe him.

Steve pushed out of your arms and wiped his now rouged face. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your job. I can handle this.”

“What? Not my job? Steve—”

“I gotta go.”

He turned to leave. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Bullshit, it’s not my job.” Your voice remained calm and kind. “You think that since you’re the self-proclaimed ‘babysitter,’ that no one’s supposed to have your back?”

“I’m supposed to be the tough one,” he said. “These kids have been through hell. They’re all counting on me to take care of them!”

“You’ve gone through hell, too! I know you have. Bottling it up is going to kill you.” You held his hands in yours and pulled him closer. “I know you’re tough. You’re the strongest person I know. But bearing the load of anything alone will weigh you down. So, please. Let me help you. What can I do to help?”

A tear fell past his cheek as his lip began to tremble. He pulled you in for a hug this time, shivering against your touch.

“I really don’t want to talk,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“That’s ok. I’m sorry I pushed. I just hate seeing you like this.”

He squeezed you tighter in a wordless reply.

You pulled away, now, and wiped some tears from his face. “How about this. I’ll finish making the cookies while you find what channel is playing Full House.”

Steve’s face shifted from sadness to disdain. “Full House?”

You chuckled. “What? It’s a feel-good show!”

He rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t help but smile at the Steve you knew slowly returning.

The two of you completed your roles, and before you knew it, Steve and you found comfort in your couch, his head in your lap, and your hand on his heart.

Steve’s silence stayed steadfast, the background noise of the Tanner’s taking its place. But this time, you didn’t mind. His breaths were relaxed, rising and falling to a steady beat. His hand found itself resting on your shin, playing mindlessly with the elastic of sweatpants. And his eyes. His eyes were calm for the first time this evening. You knew the war wasn’t over, but you were thankful you at least won this battle.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOODDDD THE NEW TGS PAGE IS MAKING MY BRAIN GO SO FAST I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!

First off, I love how violent it is. Obviously it's tonally appropriate, but it also seems like a logical escalation from the other instances of the transformation we've seen. I'm gonna rant about it for a minute so body horror warning I guess? I don't know what other category a guy vomiting green science goop would fall into.

Exhibit A:

From the very first change, it's always been very intense.

He describes it as deeply unpleasant and painful, because his bones are literally changing, and by the end of it he's fallen to the floor.

Pretty expected for your first time through an extremely physically traumatic event. But he never seems to get used to it.

Exhibit B:

This transformation takes place two years after the first one. I'm sure a lot of this is the way it is because this moment is very dramatic and it needs to land that way, but the in-world logic is far more interesting to me. His dropping the flask and collapsing implies that even after this whole thing has become routine, his body still isn't used to it. Obviously your bones changing on a dime is never gonna be easy to go through, but even after two years there seems to be almost no acclimation. He probably can't even accurately predict when the pain will start, otherwise he would've set the flask down earlier.

But both of these transformations seem somewhat predictable. It starts inside of his mouth and eyes and spills out, working from the inside outward. My guess is that that is the stabilizing effect of the portion. Because once he starts to transform without it as a catalyst...

Exhibits C, D, and E:

The process starts to break down. It starts the same way it always did, but by the third or fourth switch he starts producing a lot more science goop (Goop? Slime? Bile? Some kinda.... Green shit. What the fuck is this shit), but with less physical change. It starts getting onto his clothes, and it seems a lot more all- encompassing than it did before. Early on the goop seems incidental. The goop and the pain are both byproducts of the potion. But at this point he's practically choking on the stuff, it's not just an ambient effect, it's something being violently purged from his system. Until we get to this point- the first self-inflicted shift without the use of the potion.

Exhibit F:

It's completely out of control. Not only is it full-force Exorcist style exploding from his mouth, it looks like it's coming out of his skin. These two panels, to me, imply that the stuff is sweating out of his skin in quantities that are heavy enough to soak through his hair. His expression can be interpreted a few different ways- general agony, screaming, ect. - but when I imagine what this scene would sound like I think there's too much blockage for him to be screaming. The way he folds over, his wide eyes, the amount of goop, I'm willing to bet that his expression is him desperately trying to breathe.

Anyways. I genuinely love this stuff. This is exactly my type of horror. The kind that doesn't seem like straight up horror until you give it a bit of thought. Chef's kiss. Delicious. Finally some good fucking food

[umbrellacam]

I feel like whether Tim is on some level suicidal in RR #12 is very open to interpretation, which is part of what makes it fascinating!

because Tim's homecoming to Gotham is the culmination of an upward/self-actualization arc, after struggling through multiple low points/depression/an extended breakdown.

he finally got proof Bruce is alive. managed to claw Tam and himself out of the Cradle and away from the Council of Spiders/LoA by the skin of their teeth. thumbed his nose at Ra's and reaffirmed his own principles by blowing up all the LoA servers. finally kind of processed that Kon and Bart are both alive again - he just tackle-hugged Kon in RR #9 and told him, "when you found me in Paris, I was in a bad place. Now... Now I'm in a good place." he's full of renewed purpose and the realization that he doesn't, in fact, have to do things alone! (team-up Robin ftw!)

so probably not actively suicidal

but then in all of his frantic calculations to thwart Ra's and save each and every person Bruce loved - he doesn't factor himself in. he doesn't put himself on that list of loved ones and set up a contingency for preserving his own life (wtf Tim).

or does he??? that's where the ambiguity comes in for me, because we don't actually see him discussing the full details of his plan with anyone. and he doesn't mention it in his internal narration, either! because his internal narration is always super reliable..... hmmm.....

we know that Dick isn't aware of any other contingencies, or indeed the full details of the plot they were thwarting - after catching Tim, Dick has to ask him, "You want to tell me what that was all about?" and of course "How did you know I'd be there to save you?"

and as I've mentioned before, I don't think Tim had actually planned for Dick to save him, so his "You're my brother, Dick. You'll always be there for me," response is uh, both loving BS and a "genuinely felt expression of retroactive faith", as Silver put it (and which has been stuck in my mind in glowing cursive letters ever since, lol).

but. we do know that as part of his plan to thwart Ra's ninja-assassinate-Bruce's-loved-ones plot, Tim calls all three of his best friends into Gotham. (among all his other rallied allies.) his best friends who are various combinations of flight and/or superspeed capable. and who had each just smugly patched in via comm to confirm that their protection jobs were all successful, meaning Tim knew they were available if he potentially needed them.

the fact that the rest of the Core Four then twiddle their thumbs and let Tim keep fighting Ra's on his own after confirming Alfred/Selina/Barbara are safe, instead of zipping over to have his back (ie punch the jackass through a wall) almost has to be because of: (a) Tim's plan to deliberately stall so Lucius could file the WE paperwork (on the Watsonian level), (b) Yost allowing Tim to have his Final Showdown with the villain of the arc on his own, and also (c) Yost setting up the emotional climax/reconciliation of Dick catching Tim (both on the Doylist level).

like, Tim stalls Ra's for long enough that Dick is able to glide and grapple his way over from his own ninja-busting detail, we don't think the speedster or the Superboy could have gotten there in time?

Dick is the one who caught Tim because it was thematic, it's a motif in their relationship and the resolution of their 12-issue arc, and don't get me wrong I wouldn't change that moment for anything - but! he wasn't the only one around who could have done so.

and Iiiiii have to suspect Tim would know that? there's ambiguity and room for interpretation, of course, especially since Tim doesn't say anything at all or call out to anyone as he's actually falling.

but also. Kryptonian superhearing? Tim's comm which could very well still be connected? could he have been relying on allies listening/clue-ing in, whether or not he actually explicitly sketched out a back-up plan with anyone to come back him up, after Lucius was done transferring WE? all according to (dumbass improvised) keikaku??

idk! seems plausible to me, but it's all so open to interpretation, it makes my brain go BRRRRRR 😊 like you can make a compelling case/headcanon/fic any way you look at it!

anyway. Dick catching Tim is very much The Moment Ever Of All Time <3 but also the thought of Kon just hovering at the ready to grab Rob but spotting Dick!Bats swooping in and being like ":))) oh ok. they both need this." is v. hilarious to me

[l4long-winded]

carmy’s gf being a very good dirty talker and carm getting flustered and turned on ❤️‍🔥

okay, first off, i am terribly sorry this took so long for me to answer. i was staring at it for ages just trying to think of a scenario where i could implement it. i'm a perfectionist. i procrastinate and i whine about procrastinating and then i panic if i don't have the right setting. and then i remembered... this is for fan consumption, who gives a fuck?

this concept is special to me because, to me, carmen doesn't have a whole lot of experience. it's why i LOVE the sub!carmen agenda. he gets tongue-tied pretty easily when it comes to voicing his emotions and then considering his stutter growing up, it makes sense to me that he would become bashful in the bedroom setting. especially with someone who knows what they're doing.

walk with me, anon. we have much to discuss... (sorry in advance for the title; i got carried away)

o.s. holland cream filled

summary: carmen is trying to keep it together. your talented tongue does not have the same goal (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

warnings: the title, described anxiety, dirty talk (duh), inexperienced!carmy, pussydrunk!carmy, established relationship, no use of pronouns for reader, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, mentioned handjobs, gold chain mention, praise kink, carmy whimpers, subby!carmy, sort of switch!carmy at the end, implied edging, longwinded descriptions, carmy begs a little, kissing, cursing, carmen's pov, use of "babe" and "baby" (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 2,018

( this work has been cross-posted to ao3 )

Every sinewy muscle twitches across his back whenever you get to this part, rippling underneath his skin as he pushes forward. He could easily lift his head up and away from where he’s currently got it nestled against your neck, but perhaps this is the masochistic side of him, the same one keeping him in the anxiety hellhole that is the kitchen. His sweaty curls graze your neck, near your jawline, his teeth and lips dragging over your throat. Every sound you make rumbles on him, vocal chords he tries to map out within. He likes to think he’s tasting your moans when he drags the flat of his tongue over your sensitive flesh. Your mouth is so fucking close to his ear right now, and it’s his own damn fault, the consequences of having you like this not unfamiliar. But this is the torture he anticipated and still dove headfirst into.

“You’re stretching me perfectly, Carmy.”

You always say shit like that. It throws off his rhythm, much like it always does, his equilibrium, clumsily attempting to fall back into it after collapsing all of his weight into you for a brief moment. It’s like you’re trying to make him falter on purpose with how you ramble. He doesn’t miss the hiss he ignites from you after accidentally sinking his cock all the way to the hilt from the misfire. His palms create divots in the mattress as he raises himself off you, his gold chain dangling near his chin. He hopes it tempts you enough to bite at it like you did a few nights ago. It would stop you from uttering anything else that’s going to shade his ears rosy and it’d snugly pull him back down chest to chest with you.

“That’s alright, look at me, watch my face,” you reassure him, taunting him without meaning to, directing his focus where he knows is going to both exacerbate and enhance this experience. As his hips continue to hump against you, somehow yanking the blankets and the mattress into handfuls resuming his pace from before, your lips part in ecstasy, desire swimming in your dilated pupils as you stare up at him. “ Good, fucking good, y-your c-cock is so thick,” you blurt, and Carmen’s breathing picks up. The oxygen is depleting quickly from his lungs, speed beginning to build and build.

“There, there, god, fuck me, Carmy, fuck,” you moan, and he maintains where he is. He’s so close, but he wants to ensure you’re feeling good right now, too.

Carmen’s intense blue eyes are latched on yours, his mind racing when you tell him to fuck you. He wants to respond, reply how he is fucking you, but he can’t find his voice. All he can do is grunt and nod his head obediently when you’re like this. As badly as he wants to match your dirty talk, he’s afraid of stuttering, of the vulnerability, of popping his load because every filthy sentence, every pant of his name, threatens to end it all too soon. If he even tries, says anything about your pussy, or your mouth, or your tits, how much he adores your pleasured sounds, that thing you do with your tongue, how you tighten around him and it’s impossible to not to drill his cock harder—

“You wanna cum?” You ask.

Yes, yes, yes, I wanna cum so fucking bad, please, please beg me for it, he thinks, but it doesn’t actually leave from between his lips. He swallows his own spit, instead, nodding his head violently as he breathes short and rapid exhales.

He’s confused when you don’t immediately respond to this thought. Of course, you’re not a mind reader. You’re observant, much like he is. He relies on this skill of yours sometimes because he’s never been good at talking. He seeks comfort in you. While your way with linguistics in this setting sends him reeling, he also needs it, he craves it. He only hates it because he can never last long with it implemented.

Yet, it is nice when you’re whispering your praises into his ear, sliding your spit slick hand up and down his cock, thighs spread over his open legs. You’ve helped him plenty of times during those heavy rushes or while you’re making out on his couch and he’s too tired to give you what you deserve. He likes it close and you know that. That ability of yours is tremendous for instantaneous relief.

You should know to deliver what he needs right at this moment. He’s hanging on by a thread, a thread, where is that stunning talent of yours when he needs it?

“Wanna cum? Wanna f-fill me up ‘til I’m leaking?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck you, what are you doing to him? He’s straining right now, forgetting to breathe as he glances at your features in disbelief, his arms shaking whenever you cup his face into your hands, thumbs occupying the dimples of his cheeks. His hips grind into you in an offbeat fashion, his voice close to whimpering at this point from how he’s holding himself off. Carmen weakly nods again this time, willing his orgasm away by closing his eyes. He can’t lose himself too much in the feeling. In the tantalizing image of his cum spilling out of you when he inevitably pulls out.

“Look at me,” you say, and Carmen’s eyes shut tighter before he pries them open. He really can’t look, but he also can’t stop himself from listening. You’ve got him wrapped up in a trance. He’s doing his best right now to continue, to hear you, to not give into the edge he wants to hurdle over. “You w-wanna cum for me, Carmy?”

It’s the third time now that you’ve asked. Normally, you’re forgiving. You see how frantic he is and you croak about how much you want him to shatter for you, how he deserves it, how he’s earned it. He doesn’t feel like he’s earned it right now, somehow keeping himself at bay, no matter how desperately he needs to release into your cunt. The more he looks at your expectant features, he realizes what it is that you’re waiting for.

He can’t do that. He doesn’t have the sheer willpower for it that you do. He shakes his head slightly, crimson painting his face and neck, a bit of embarrassment coating his perspired skin, recrimination of the damned knitting his eyebrows together. He doesn’t trust himself. The moment the syllables leave his mouth, he’s bound to be floundering around like an idiot, and the only thing in his head right now is how badly he needs to cum. He can’t ruin this moment, and he has a strong feeling that he will.

But those hands of yours stop him from denying it. Your pressure heightens just a touch, just enough to gain his attention back on your face. You level him with an earnest gaze, lashes batting, nose nuzzling up against his in unspoken affection. There’s no doubt in his head that you could continue to talk and help him out here, but you’re waiting on him patiently. He’s got you both of the brink of madness, and you’re withholding on purpose, softly kissing him while his hips fuck into you in a contrasting slick and clapping noise. He knows what you want. He sighs in frustration, resigning himself, because although he could give into the fire, it wouldn’t burn as good without your permission. He lives for how it tempers inside of him.

“Y-yes,” he manages. You’re too cute, the way your face lights up. You swaddle your plush bottom lip between your teeth, eyes flickering with hope and encouragement for him to continue on. Carmen has to inhale first, a gauche tickling traveling up his throat like a spider climbing up a tree, crawling along the lining of his esophagus.

“Yes,” he repeats, “I-... I w-wanna cum.”

Saying it out loud further solidifies it, eroding his self control bit by bit. It’s salient in how the vein in his neck protrudes, and he’s there, he’s about to lose it. He’s going to, feeling his pressure wean the deeper he digs. You’re taking a lot of time looking him over. He wonders if you’re getting off on how needy he is right now, extending this out, when he was good, did exactly what he knows you wanted without having to ask. He’s about to babble and stutter, he’s got it at the tip of his tongue. Your walls tighten suddenly and this time he does fucking whimper.

“... and?”

And? And what? Where are those gratifying admirations of yours for him? He’s done what you want, he’s certain of it, and his balls are heavy right now, thudding into the meat of your ass.

“Baby, please,” he gushes, but you don’t relent. Your walls tighten around him again. His cock twitches in apprehension, almost there, almost letting it go.

It hits him, then. He remembers what you said a while ago. He’s far too gone to think about what this is going to make him look like, his eyes widening with his epiphany. He starts to move faster again, a new flame lit under him.

“And f-fill you up,” he rasps, “f-fill you up, I… I need to f-fill y-you up with my c-cum. Fuck, fuck, fuck, uh, uh, uh.”

Carmen’s fears were correct. He’s a stuttering, whimpering mess, becoming more vocal as he recites your words and then some. He navigates his way back to earth when you kiss him, shutting him up from cursing. He smothers a few more fucks against your mouth, expecting you to let him have it. Only, you don’t. Your half-lidded gaze greets him when you depart, your voice holding tremors on it. You’re close yourself. He has no idea how you can do this to the two of you. Aren’t you as strung out right now as he is?

“Until?”

Carmen almost swallows his tongue with how quickly he inhales, that one word a knife into his abdomen. The muscles there contract and flex, cock throbbing, his fingers close to piercing the mattress. He holds out a little longer, his next exhale opening his mouth, tongue lolling out.

“‘Til… ‘til y’leaking.”

Triumph cascades over him seeing your pleasured grin. He’s unable to hold the dam back any longer when you nod your head. His body molds against yours, a cry leaving his lips whenever he buries himself. He pants against your neck, his arms engulfing you into them. He greedily plucks your body off the mattress, surrounded by him in every aspect. While in his embrace, the stream of his seed goes on and on, expansive pulses before each spurt. You’ve drenched him, arched into a pretty curve, thanked him while you found your own solace, and he thinks he might disappear into thin air from how light he feels.

He doesn’t. He remains sprawled on top of you, the weight of him crushing you from how he refuses to let you go. If you complained, he would roll off, but you don’t. You peck gentle kisses over his shoulder, featherlike.

“Did so good,” you mutter. “You’re perfect. All mine. Please me like no one could. So, so good for me. Such a good b—”

Carmen’s hand covers your mouth, shielding himself from further onslaught. He removes his head from your neck, still out of breath as he looks down at you. The knife through the hand of his tattoo sits sideways, your bright eyes blinking at him. He sees a mix of amusement, desire, mischief, and confusion all rolled up there.

Carmen leans down, kissing his own tattoo. The action might seem insignificant to anyone else, but when he feels your lips purse into his palm as if kissing him back, he knows it’s not insignificant at all.

“Sorry, babe,” he murmurs. He starts to move again. The sinful sound that vibrates against his palm is a muted symphony to him, but he doesn’t take his hand away.

“I wanna last longer this time.”

[xothatnerdykid]

say yes to heaven (say yes to me)

Aizawa finds out you have a crush on him. Fluffy, slightly suggestive Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead x reader drabble. Slight age gap, teaching assistant!reader. 1,937 words.

"You know Y/N has a crush on you, right?"

You nearly choke at that, freezing up against the wall. You had been taking a phone call outside the faculty lounge when you overheard Yamada and Aizawa make their way inside, oblivious to your presence. 

"I thought I told you to drop it already, Hizashi," Aizawa grunts.

"Wait, you know?" A third voice, Nemuri, asks incredulously, followed by a noise that sounds suspiciously like Aizawa elbowing Yamada mid-laugh.

You feel your face heat up, mortified at their discussion. Of course Aizawa knew you had feelings for him, you all but slap yourself. How could he not when you clam up and turn into a stuttering mess whenever he’s around? 

You're well aware that plenty of the girls of Class 1-A (and even 1-B) harbor a not-so-secret crush on their sensei, and you're embarrassed to admit that you're not much better. You're always suddenly breathless and flustered to be near him.

Always a little too eager to help during training or classes. Always tripping over your words whenever he spoke to you. He must have tried to brush it off at first, but it just kept happening too many times for him to ignore.

"The only thing I know," Aizawa answers gruffly, "Is that this conversation is bordering on entirely inappropriate."

"What? Why? It's not like she's a student here or anything," Yamada retorts.

"She was, just a few years ago."

"Yeah, and now she's my teaching assistant," Nemuri counters.

But you can practically see Aizawa shake his head. "See? Same difference."

"Oh, lighten up! So you have a bit of an age gap—"

"I wouldn't call 8 years a bit of an age gap, Hizashi."

"Who cares about that? I think she could make you happy, Shouta, and you deserve to be happy."

“Now that I think about it," Nemuri adds. "You two would be good together. You need someone who can make you smile and stop being so serious all the time, and she..." She chuckles playfully. "For some unexpected reason, really likes that about you."

"Don't tell me you haven't at least thought about it?" Yamada teases. “I see the way you look at her, too, you know."

Nemuri squeals, "Just imagine, the two of you being all lovey-dovey. It'd be so cute!"

Your heart catches in your throat, but Aizawa is quick to interject.

"It doesn't matter. None of those things you said matter. To do anything about Y/N's feelings for me would be taking advantage of her."

"Fine," Nemuri huffs. "But the least you can do is talk to the poor girl about it. You can't keep giving her the cold shoulder forever."

There's a beat of silence before Aizawa dejectedly responds, "You’re right.” And you hear the door knob lock behind them.

______________________________________________________________

You pretend not to notice that Aizawa's awkwardly been standing behind you for almost five minutes now, hoping he'd eventually leave if you looked busy enough typing away on your laptop.

And he almost does, if it wasn't for Midnight and Mic, who you can see out of the corner of your eye, gesturing at him quietly but frantically to go on. 

Your heart races when he clears his throat. "Uh, Y/N, do you have a minute?"

"Um..." You want to say no but can't think of a reason fast enough, so you take your time closing your laptop instead, bracing yourself. "Sure."

You get up from your seat and turn to face him, but neither of you can meet the other's gaze, which just makes everything feel all the more mortifying. 

"I'm aware of...Er, I mean...I apologize if I've seemed a little standoffish lately."

"You mean more than usual?" You smile weakly, trying for a bit of humor.

When you look up, you're surprised to see that his expression is serious but gentle. He almost smiles for a second before he seems to think better of it.

"It's been brought to my attention that you might…” He sighs, then starts over. “If I’ve ever given you the wrong impression, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention. I want you to know that I respect your feelings, but I think it’s best that we maintain a professional relationship."

“Of course! I-I never–You never–Um–" You swallow thickly, feeling your face burn up. “I agree.”

“Good. I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”

Like it could get any worse? You bite back the retort.

You take a deep breath, attempting to regain your composure, and plaster on another half-hearted smile. “It’s fine. We can move past it.”

He nods, his expression neutral. “Glad to hear that.”

_________________________________________________________________________

But you do not, in fact, move past it. At least not for a couple of weeks. 

In the days that follow, you find that you can't shake off the conversation, the way he looked and the vulnerability in his voice lingering in your mind. The hours at work feel longer now that they're filled with lingering silence, heavy with unspoken words and punctuated with stilted conversations.

Even more embarrassing is the fact that everyone seems to know about your unrequited and inappropriate crush now, if they didn’t already. You notice Mic and Midnight's sympathetic glances, and All-Might's whispered concerns.

Their attempts to act normal around you are agonizingly obvious, so you make it a habit to be the first one to leave every afternoon and spend most of your days alone at your table, with your eyes glued to your laptop screen or your nose buried in a mountain of paperwork. 

So how, exactly, did you find yourself in this position? Alone with Shouta in his apartment and sitting in his lap with your fingers tangled in his hair and his tongue practically down your throat?

_________________________________________________________________________

Last thing you remembered, you were walking home when he suddenly fell into step beside you.

"Hi," you managed, giving him a weak smile. It must've been the first time you've ever been alone together since the talk. 

"Mind if I join you?" He tilted his head to ask, his hands in his pockets and looking as tired as ever. 

"Not at all," You tried to reply coolly, even though your heart just about dropped to the floor.

A familiar awkward silence fell upon both of you.

You bunched up your skirt in your fists, acutely aware of the way he’s looking at you. His usually stern face seemed almost…unsure. Finally, he broke the silence. "How have you been?”

“Oh, you know…” You waved your hand dismissively. “Just trying to get through each day.”

He nodded solemnly. “Listen, y/n, I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings last time we talked, because that’s the last thing I’d want.”

You shook your head. "No, not at all. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for the position I put you in."

"I just want you to know that...It's not that I don't..." He trailed off meaningfully, his eyes downcast. "I just don't think it would be appropriate or fair to you to pursue anything because...Your feelings for me…they’re not real.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “What?” 

"I understand that you might be confused by...that the dynamics of our relationship might have clouded your judgement and made me seem…”

“Stop.” You level him with a fierce gaze and he does. You do your best to sound firm despite the sting of his words. “It’s one thing for you not to return my feelings. That I can understand. But don’t patronize me by telling me what I do or don’t feel. It’s clear that you think otherwise, but I’m not a child, Shouta.”

Aizawa, surprised by the intensity in your voice, leaned back slightly. He doesn't say anything, which gives you the courage to speak your mind, telling him off before you can think better of it.

“I don’t like you just because you’re older than me or I see you as some sort of authority figure. I like you because you care a lot but pretend you don’t. And it makes me want to get to know you more. I admire your dedication and hard work at being a hero and a teacher here.”

He looked at you thoughtfully for a few moments, then nodded, a flicker of realization crossing his features as he absorbed your words. “You're right. I shouldn't have assumed or tried to define your feelings for you. I apologize."

"Thank you."

"And as long as we’re sharing…” He rolled his sleeves up, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think you’re a child, you know. I think you’re intelligent and perfectly competent. In fact, I think you're amazing."

The irritation and hurt you felt just moments ago was quickly chased away by the warmth that spread within you at his surprising admission.

He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I was hesitant because I didn't want to take advantage of you, given our age gap—"

"It doesn't bother me," you said with newfound confidence, and he couldn't help but chuckle at your boldness.

"But maybe... I've been too cautious."

You tilted your head, smiling up at him softly, sweetly, like you used to. "What do you mean?" You asked even though you already knew, you just wanted to hear him say it.

He ran a hand through his hair again, rubbing the back of his neck. A nervous habit, you’ve noticed. "I mean, perhaps I've been so focused on maintaining professional boundaries that it's made me overlook the possibility of a genuine connection between us."

You bit the inside of your cheeks to keep from smiling any wider. "Are you saying...?"

He nodded, a hint of a blush tinting his face. "Would you consider having dinner with me tomorrow?"

_________________________________________________________________________

Fast forward to now, hours after dinner and one glass of wine too many, and you’ve somehow managed to muster up the courage to kiss him good night.

It catches him by surprise, but once he leans into it, he doesn’t let you pull away. He responds with an almost bruising eagerness, kissing you again, and again, and again, until you find yourself pressed up against the door of his apartment.

He jams his keys into the doorknob, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

But instead of swinging the door open like you expected, he puts his hand up against it instead, next to your face, and presses his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” he says breathlessly, his eyes screwed shut.

You draw a steadying breath of your own. “Why not?”

“Because,” he drawls in that frustratingly raspy voice of his. The one so low and deep you could practically feel it vibrating against your own chest, echoing off the walls inside of you. “You do something to me…to my self-control…”

You swallow thickly. “Do I?”

He nods.

“Good.” You link your hands around his nape, pulling at some of the hair there, and smile against the crook of his neck. “Then the feeling’s mutual.”

He puts his hands on your waist, gingerly, cautiously. “Doesn’t make it rational.”

You kiss his jaw. ”Why does it need to be rational?” And then his cheek. ”We’re both adults.” And then gently bite his ear, whispering, “Why can’t we let ourselves want what we want?” 

“And are you sure…” He pulls away a little, his eyes still closed and his eyebrows furrowed. “This is what you want?” He finally opens his eyes to search yours, and his are so smoky and dark you feel as though you're falling through the night sky.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, captivated by the intensity in his gaze.

"Yeah," you answer, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. "I'm sure."

His smirk is the last thing you see before your eyelids flutter close and his lips are on yours again. 

He doesn’t waste another moment.

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about (lovesick) Hiori Yo keeping a diary.

His parents have always been emotionally unavaible. For them, Hiori was nothing more nothing less than an experiment, the one destined to be what they've always wanted to be and yet never managed to acomplish: someone who wears the title of being "the best in the world".

He also didn't have much (if any) friends. All his time was dedicated to football practice, so the only people he talked to (aside from his parents) were his teammates. And they were nice, sure, but they were not his friends. They were more like acquaintances. The only one he could really call a friend was one of his teammates, Karasu Tabito, and even so he still didn't feel comfortable enough talking to him about the complex thoughts he had.

Because of that, he's never had anyone to talk with. No one to confide about his feelings and emotions. No one to talk about how he wanted to leave his home house (that place didn't feel like a home). How his parents fucked up his sanity. How he didn't really like football that much.

He couldn't keep all these things inside his head anymore. He needed to pour these feelings out. That's why he decided to start a diary.

Grabbing an old notebook and one of those common blue pens, he started writing. The diary was his most treasured possession. It stayed locked inside his bedside table, being away from all of the prying eyes.

Writing felt good. He wrote about his strained relationship with his parents. About soccer practices. About gaming tips. About pretty much everything.

His thoughts about many different themes were written there. That's why his journal didn't really have a specific theme.

Well, at least in the beggining it didn't have.

Because ever since a month or so, all the pages on his diary began to revolve around a girl. You.

He met you during a rather boring math class. The teacher was rambling on and on about algebrics or whatever, and time seemed to freeze because of how utterly shitty the endless class seemed.

"His explanation sucks, doesn't it?"

He heard a female voice coming from beside him. When he turned to the direction of the sound, he saw the prettiest girl he had ever met.

Her hair framed her face perfectly, it's color matching her eyes in the most beautiful way Yo had ever seen. The smile she had on her face seemed to shine, and Hiori found himself smiling back, too.

"Yeah" he sighed, then looked back at the teacher

"I just wish the old hag would shut up"

"I wish he would just shut up"

They spoke at the same time.

Looking at eachother, they both began to laugh. Hard. Clutching your stomach and tearing up kind of laugh. Snorting like a pig laugh. Wheezing. Hitting the table with your fist to try and stop with the loud laughing, but being phisically incapable of stopping.

"Hiori Yo and (Name) (Lastname). Do you want to share with the class what made you laugh so hard? I'm sure they want to laugh to."

"N-No, mister. We're sorry. We-We'll stop" you answered, still trying to stiffle your laugh

"Do not interrupt my class again, or else I'll send you both to the principal's office"

"Okay sir." Hiori answered, not believing a word the teacher said but still a little scared to have his parents find out he went to the principal's office

"Hiori Yo, huh?" You said "It suits you"

"Thank you, miss (Name) (Lastname)." Hiori smirked "Your name is very pretty. It also suits you"

"Oh, so you think I'm pretty?" You smirked, a mischevious and playful glint on your eyes.

"N-no!" Hiori blushed hard, averting your gaze. His accent got stronger like it always did when he became nervous, and he was quick to correct himself "I-I mean, yes! You're very pretty! B-but I didn't mean to say t-that. Not that you're not pretty! Is just that..."

He was interrupted by the sound of your laugh mixed with the bell signalizing the end of the school day. It's obnoxious sound was such a contrast from your sweet, honey-like melodic laugh.

"Don't worry, I was just teasing you!" You smiled at him, grabbing your backpack and getting up "Well, see you on the next advanced math period, mister Hiori Yo"

You then quickly left, leaving behind a red and speechless Hiori.

He has been obsessed in love with you ever since. He wanted to be with you all of the time, no exceptions. You were just so nice! It seemed like his problems disappeared when you were near. Life seemed brighter, and even his parents noticed the change in his behavior. He was more carefree, happier, lighter.

And never once did he forget to write in his diary. In fact, he wrote about you so much he decided to rip the pages about his parents and other things and make the journal solely based on you.

He wrote about the dates he wanted to go to with you. Wrote about how he wanted to hold hands with you, kiss you till you're both breathless, stargaze with you, game with you. Do basically everything with you.

He detailed how he wanted to confess to you: you would both be in a park, having a picnic, when he would suddenly pull a bouquet from his backpack and put his feelings on the table, making it clear he viewed you as more than a friend. And then you'd laugh and say you like him too, making fun of his strong accent and how much effect you had over him.

Not that he'd mind. As long as your attention was on him, you could humilliate him all you want. He was pathetic.

He even wrote about your wedding, the petunias he wanted to give you and how Hiori (Name) had such a nice ring to it.

He wrote everything in his diary. And that was his fatal flaw.

Because he also wrote about how he wanted to spend his practice time with you. How he wanted to give up on soccer and move in with you to a house on the countryside, just you and him. How he sometimes skipped practices just to go out with you.

"Mom? Dad?"

He would never have thought that, one day, he would forget to lock the diary up. And who would've guessed it would fall in the hands of his parents, who have no idea of privacy.

"Yo, we need to talk about this"

When Hiori saw the notebook in his dad's hand, he swallowed dry. He felt like crying just by imagining what they wanted to discuss about.

Maybe they didn't read it. Yeah, maybe they still respected their son, at least a little bit.

"W-what? How did you..."

"It was on your bed." His mom answered, a stern expression on her face "me and your father came to an agreement after reading it, and..."

"You read it?!" Hiori was furious and sad at the same time. Not surprised, no. He knew they would've done this. "You can't do this! My personal thoughts are in there! It's my diary! You're invading my privacy!"

"Bullshit. Teenagers do not have nor need privacy" his father cut him off "Whatever. What matters is that we read about that (Name) girl. And we've decided..."

No. He can say anything but what he thinks they're bout to say. He can't handle that.

"We don't want you around that girl anymore. She's getting in the way of your football practices. That's why...

We're moving you to a different school."

No...

No.

NO!

"No she's not!" Hiori screamed, pleaded. He wished that for once his parents would listen to him, think about his feelings at least one time. "I love her! I swear I'll do double the practice! Just, please. Please don't do this" his voice was wavering. He was weak. "Please don't keep her away from me. Please."

"We do this cause we know what's best for you. We're your parents. We know you better than yourself." His mom tried to reason.

"No you don't!" Hiori screamed "She's the best thing that has ever happened to me! You can't do this to me! You can't decide these things in my behalf!"

"We're your parents. We can and we did. End of discussion." His dad gritted out, not an ounce of empathy in his face. "And we also decided you're not keeping a diary anymore. We don't want you hiding things from us."

With a swift move, he threw the notebook inside the fireplace.

"NO!" Hiori screamed, running to collect the ashes and try to save the diary, but it was already too late.

In his knees in front of the fire, Hiori cried. The flames were dancing around as if mocking his sadness, laughing at his disgrace.

He stayed there for so long he lost track of time. His parents were no longer in the room, deciding to finally give their son space. But he didn't want space.

He wanted you.

He stayed motionless until the last flame was unstinguished. And when it finally was, so was his hope for a better future. A future without his parents playing with the strings of his life all the time, treating him like a puppet. A future with no pain.

A future with you.

And so, a single page that survived flew and fell in front of him.

He picked it up.

Dear diary,

I think I can make up with my parents. I didn't told her about the whole situation since I don't want to burden her, but from what she heard, (Name) said we just need to talk. And maybe she's right. Maybe they'll like her just as much as I do, and we can be a big happy family. She makes me feel like everything is possible. I'm sure I love her, and I want to spend all my time by her side...

He couldn't read it anymore.

With a scream, Hiori tore the page apart.

~A/N: Sorry anon, idk how to write angst ☹️

Masterlist

[rosemarydisaster]

I made some sort of alignment classification based on whether they're impulsive or if they plan ahead for the Batfam. Feel free to correct me (politely please, I'll cry) or to add your opinion. I'm not trying to be super canon, just based on their characters' vibes.

Bruce Wayne: 100% planner. This man could be a Bene Gesserit, plans within plans, and they always work even if they shouldn't (because DC can't have him be wrong). It's like a choose your own adventure, you follow the plan and each time something new happens that is sure to chase things up he pulls a subsection specifically for it. Senior Justice League Members just don't question him anymore no matter what. "You had a contingency for getting invaded by mind controlling ballerina spiders? Yeah, sure, tell us all about it".

Barbara Gordon: she plans around her impulses. She is self aware enough at this point to know she's a bit of a hot head. It is what it is, she's called Batman an Emo Boy's idea of Therapy enough times to his face to know she just can't help herself with some stuff. So instead of working against it she plans around it. In the end, it was her plan all along. Canary thinks she could just hold her tongue, but considering the vigilantes Oracle manages, her experience in planning for these situations is invaluable.

Dick Grayson: Impulsive, not because he can't make plans or because he isn't smart. Quite the opposite. He just has that ADHD dog in him. He would be guiding the Titans through a mission and they'd be thinking "Woah, everything is going according to his plan", meanwhile inside his head is Bear Grylls saying "Improvise, Adapt, Overcome". It's not so much that he comes up with plans on the spot but he ends up changing it along the way because he thought of something better for that specific situation. He may use B's protocols for a general structure but then trusts his instinct to come up with something better on the spot.

Cassandra Cain: Neither. She's not one to be coming up with elaborate schemes but, as much as she relies on her instinct, she's able to stop before jumping. She doesn't need to plan, she knows what works. She observes and then takes the best course of action. When Bruce goes on and on about the importance of planning she just answers "Skill issue" and leaves.

Jason Todd: impulsive planner. This is a man that makes plans, okay? He's theatre kid coded, he needs to know his little monologues by heart. The thing is, he's also very emotional and has the impulse control of a toddler in front of the cookie jar. He can't help himself, he has to punch the asshole and make the witty comeback or he will explode. The outlaws have been grilled to death on the importance of following the plan but then watch him like ten minutes later throw it out the window. They find it both endearing and annoying.

Stephanie Brown: Queen of Chaos. She can plan. She's good at it too btw, she just doesn't want to if she can avoid it. She works best when she's improvising and it drives Bruce and Tim up the walls. They just hate to see women winning. She's the best one out of all of them at turning a mistake to her advantage in a matter of seconds. It's quite impressive.

Tim Drake: Chaotic planner. Everyone is so sure Tim is a mini Bruce and to a certain extent, if you squint your eyes, then yes. But Young Just Us know the truth: his plans are extremely effective but only in the most chaotic way possible. There's the Batman plan, and there's the Red Robin plan, which is like the first one but faster and with more fire. He also has to be periodically reminded to take into account his own wellbeing when making his little schemes.

Duke Thomas: plans on the go. I don't know how else to explain it but it's like those sequences in the Sherlock movies (the ones with RDJ) where he's watching his surroundings and opponents almost in slow-mo till he puts together a plan. It's similar to Dick from the outside, but if you pay attention you can see the wheels turning in his head as he goes along. He actually stops and thinks (metaphorically, most of the time his thinking is done while he distracts enemies).

Damian Al Gul Wayne: he's a strategist, not a planner. This is an important distinction because whenever Batman or Red Robin are explaining one of their convoluted plans he feels like he's actively losing braincells. He's closer to Cassandra in the way he prefers a more direct solution. He also gets palpitations anytime Jason or Stephanie just start doing things without thinking. If he knew what Dick's thought process was he would have probably developed an anxiety disorder in his time as Dick's robin. He doesn't understand the need for such high detail planning and hates the idea of making it along the way. No, he just needs to come up with the most efficient strategy and that's all.

[luna0713hunter]

I'd die for you

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Summary : when Zoro is injured by Hawk Eyes,you cant help but to worry about him.

Warnings : none really, basically hurt/comfort,mentions of injuries and fear of losing the person you love aka Zoro, bickering couple

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

"Wow," Sanji breaths, "Just,wow..."

You let out a whine and hide your face in your hands.

"Sanjiiii," you take hold of the cook's sleeve and shake him as hard as you can (which isnt much), "what should i do?! there's no way Zoro would actually like this!!!"

"I dont know," the blonde takes a spoonful of the soup you've made,which was oddly....black, "that blockhead should be thrilled that you put so much effort in making this for him!!"

You sniff,watching as Sanji swallows and school his expression,but not before his face paling slightly, "it just...has a little too much salt. And pepper...and.." when his eyes land on your defeated expression,Sanji smiles brightly again but it seems a little forced "and its absolutely delicious!!!i cant see how he cant possibly love this!"

"you're just saying that to make me feel better. You dont have to pretend,Sanji."

The cook gives you a charming smile and starts cleaning the kitchen, "if a man can't appreciate his woman cooking for him,then he doesn't deserve to taste it. So,y/n," he turns around from washing the dishes and smiles warmly at you, "don't be nervous. And remember you can always learn from your mistakes."

You smile back,and take hold of the bowl and walk our of the kitchen;a small skip to your steps.

"I'm going!!"

"Good luck with him!"

You giggle as you try to rush to where Zoro is; resting in his bedroom after you specifically asked him to rest.

It hasn't been long since he got injured by Hawk Eyes, and as much as he didnt want to admit those scars needed time to fully heal. And with him running around and fighting everyone in sight,it wasnt easy to actually make him rest. So after a small argument with him and some help from Sanji,you managed to cook something for him. The cook had mentioned that the herbs in the soup would heal him faster,but judging from how dark the food looked like,you may or may have not overcooked it. Only a little.

As you reach his room, you take a steady breath to calm yourself before knocking gently on the door.

"If its about your damn cooking or personal space again,i couldn't care less Sanji."

"Zoro,its me."

When the other side goes silent,you cant help but to roll your eyes playfully and grin. Sanji and Zoro couldn't get along for the life them and it never ceases to amuse you.

"...come in."

You take another breath as you finally open the door.

Zoro is,to your delight, actually resting on his hammock. His arms are folded behind his head as he stares at you when you walk through the door. The room is mostly dark,since he has a habit of drawing the curtains whenever Sanji is not around to nag at him. Your eyes momentarily traces the shape of the bandages under his shirt,before clearing your throat and moving to his side.

"i hope you're hungry. Sanji helped me cook this for you."

Zoro eyes the bowl in your hands,but doesn't move from where he's laying

"its not poisoned,is it?"

"i was cooking,what do you think?"

Zoro purse his lips and doesn't reply. You visibly gape at him and stump your foot angrily

"I'm not that bad at cooking!!"

"i didnt even say anything."

"your face says all i need to know!!" You huff and turn around, "maybe i should just give this to Luffy! I'm sure he would appreciate it,unlike someone."

You dont even have time to take another step before there are arms around your waist,not hard that you spill the soup,but enough to stop you from leaving.

"...give it here."

You dont turn around,but your lips twitch; Zoro could never say no to you.

"And why would i?"

"...cause I'm hungry and it smells...really good."

And when you finally turn around,you lift an eyebrow unamused.

"was that pause really necessary?"

"just give me the damn bowl."

You try really hard to hide your teasing grin,but judging from the scowl Zoro's wearing, you're not very successful at it.

You wait impatiently as Zoro blows the soup (which is totally unnecessary since its already lukewarm) and swallows a spoonful. You fidget with your fingers, tilting your head to side and looking at the man in front of you nervously.

"so?how is it?"

Zoro takes a moment before looking up at you.

"it's the best soup I've ever had."

There's a moment of silence where you just stare at the man in front you. He looks serious;no sign of his teasing grin or eye rolls. And when he sees you not responding,he just goes back to eating your black, burned soup.

Your eyes water and you try to muffle your sob.

At the sound, Zoro's head immediately snaps up,his eyes widening when they land on your crumbled form. He jumps to his feet and takes hold of your shoulders,caresses your cheek and wipes the tears away so gently that it has you crying harder.

"hey,hey. why are you crying?"

You shake your head and hide your face in his chest.

"i almost lost you Zoro..."

"but I'm-"

"you're not fine!!" You sob,and raise your face so you can watch his own twist into a frown as he watches your tears increase, "you almost died!! If it weren't for Zeff's help,you would've bled to death!i cant get the image of that sword slashing your chest out of my head!heck,i cant sleep without thinking of you dying in front of me Zoro!"

When you finally finish your little rant,your face is flushed and your breathing is uneven. Your mind wonders off to that cursed moment again,when a hand on your cheek pulls you back to your senses.

"breath," Zoro murmurs, "breath,babe. Its alright. Im fine;more than fine."

He rests his forehead against yours and puts your hand on his chest. Where you could feel his heart beating.

Alive and safe

"see?" He presses his lips to your heated skin and his hold on you tightens, "and, I'm getting so much better already with your magical soup."

At that,you let out a wet giggle and look up at him, sniffing, "really?"

"really."

And when he slowly steps back until he's laying on his hammock again,with your ear pressed against his beating heart,and the empty bowl of the soup on the floor;you feel your eyes slowly flutter shut.

"Sleep,love. I'll be right here when you wake up."

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jack Howl - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Sports Field]

[tup, tup, tup]

Jack: Pant, pant… I could really feel the burn on those last 20 meters.

Jack: What's my time…? Oh, not bad. I'll have to remember this feeling for next time. Alright, guess it's time to stretch and head back to the dorm.

Riddle: Are you doing solo practice after your club activities once again? You sure are diligent, Jack.

Jack: Oh, Riddle-senpai. When you say "again" like that… did you already know that I always stay behind longer?

Riddle: Well, when the Equestrian Club ends our activities for the day and leave the stable for our respective dormitories, we do pass by the field.

Riddle: I've spotted you running by yourself many times before. Are you training for a meet of some kind?

Jack: Ah, actually, recently my times have been fairly stagnant, so I've been trying to adjust my running form.

Jack: Nothing I was doing was really working… But I think I've really started to figure out what I need.

Jack: For now, I plan on heading back to my dorm and, starting tomorrow, I'll focus on working on my newest running posture.

Riddle: A good decision. It would not do for you to injure yourself by overworking.

Riddle: Besides, a student's priority should be their studies. Passion is well and good, however you would do well to not neglect your studies.

Jack: No need to tell me twice. I don't plan on neglecting my practice nor my studies whatsoever.

Jack: I made it here to Night Raven College, after all. I'll put forth even more effort so I can achieve even more.

Jack: Even if it's the day before my birthday, I'll have to continue doing my best… No, I'll have to do even better than my best.

Riddle: Oh, is your birthday tomorrow?

Riddle: Then I'm sure there's much for you to prepare. It would be rude of me to continue to keep you, so I'll leave you now.

[Riddle walks off]

Jack: Eh…? Oh, sure. Thank you, Riddle-senpai.

Jack: …Did I just say out loud that it's my birthday tomorrow? I hope he doesn't think I'm excited about it, or anything…

Jack: Ughhhh. Nah, it's no good worrying about something that's already done! Time to stretch!

[Savanaclaw Dorm – Jack's Room]

Jack: Whew… I feel much better after a shower. Guess it's time to finally get to my homework.

[Savanaclaw Dorm – Jack's Room]

Jack: Guess that's enough of reviewing today's lessons. I gotta put my homework in my bag before I forget, too…

[Roommate A speaks up]

Jack: … Huh? You wanna copy my homework before I put it away? I didn't work on it to help you guys out, why would I show it to you, anyway?

[Roommate B talks back]

Jack: You don't know the answers? Well, that's your fault for not listening during class. Don't come begging me for scraps.

Jack: Ugh, look at 'em, all grumbling over something stupid. Anyway… I guess I just have "that" left to deal with before going to bed.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Jack: So they're looking for campus life improvements, huh. Well, there's the fact that some can be irritating just because they're a year or two older…

Jack: But it's not like the academy can really do anything to help improve personal problems. So, I guess…

Jack: I know I'd like it if they could do something about the rule that freshmen must live 4 to a room.

Jack: It's stressful enough having to share a small room with someone else, let alone 3 other people.

Jack: I can't wait for next year. Sophomores live 2 to a room, so it should be way better than right now.

Jack: There'll be more space in the room then… And I'll be able to find more sunlight for my cacti as well.

Jack: Even though I was able to beat the others to the spot that would provide the most light back when I first got here…

Jack: It's still not enough. Compared to the rooms reserved for the upperclassmen, it's still not as bright here, so I have to take extra care of the little guys.

Jack: Cacti are just like humans in that they don't do well if they don't get enough sunlight.

Jack: …That reminds me of back home for some reason. When winter comes, I always see people here and there sunbathing.

Jack: As a kid, I thought they were just lazy, and couldn't figure out why they'd want to just lounge out under the sun…

Jack: When I learned that there were health-related reasons behind it, I was both surprised and impressed.

Jack: It's not like I've been lacking any chances to be out under the sun ever since I've come to Sage's Island…

Jack: But if I could have a room big enough to roll out a rug, it might not be so bad to lay out and sunbathe on it a bit.

Jack: Alright… I've finished filling out the survey, so I guess it's time to sleep.

[roommates chattering]

Jack: Hey! You guys are being way too loud. How long're you gonna be at it?

Jack: You all better go to sleep right at lights out tonight… 10PM is bedtime! Don't keep me awake!

Jack: …Yeah, like those guys'll listen to what I say.

Jack: I should go back to the survey and ask for a canopy bed… Or maybe a partition.

Jack: Sleep is important for me to build my muscles… So I can't have them keeping me up… Yaaawn…

[Savanaclaw Dorm – Jack's Room]

[alarm blaring]

Jack: …Mm, is it morning already? Welp, then. First things first after waking up…

Jack: There's no question about it. TIME TO REPLENISH QUICKLY WITH SOME PROTEIN!!

Jack: I need to gain back all the nutrients I lost while sleeping. I'll swing by the kitchen for a protein drink and then head towards the washroom.

[Savanaclaw Dorm – Washroom]

[splash, splash]

Jack: Whew… No one's awake at this time, so it's nice and quiet here.

Jack: …Man, no matter how I look at it, my hair is tousled into a real mess. This happens every morning, sure, but…

Jack: Since I have thicker hair, it's so hard to tame the bedhead. Ah, tsk, there's even some pillow marks on my ears.

Jack: Well, I guess I'll just start with wetting the roots of my hair and then use the dryer while pulling the strands back…

[blow-dries hair]

Jack: Once the unruly strands are tamed, I'll comb it… Good, it's more or less better now. If I don't do this first, it ends up taking longer in the end.

Jack: I've tried a bunch of different hair products, but I ended up liking this wax the best.

Jack: Hair gel might be better to keep the shape, but it gets too stiff and takes too long to wash out.

Jack: Only using wax means that my hairstyle starts to lose its hold around evening time, but all I need to do for that is to just fix it up in the afternoon.

Jack: Nice, that looks good. All that's left is to spray it a bit…

[sprays hair]

Jack: Normally I won't use it 'cause I don't like it to get on my ears, but I want to make sure I look spot on today of all days.

Jack: As for makeup… Nah, I'll go without, like usual. I'd like to look good, but I don't want to get all dolled up or anything.

Jack: I'll just use my normal sunscreen. Can't say I really like how it feels on my skin, though…

Jack: But I remember the first time I ever went skiing by myself and the pain I went through when I forgot to apply sunscreen.

Jack: The way I got burned by the sun reflecting on the snow and I had to live with the embarrassment of the goggles leaving that imprint on my face… Augh, I don't even want to think about it again.

Jack: But thanks to that, I finally understand why my parents wouldn't shut up about not forgetting to put on sunscreen.

Jack: Looks like there's a bunch I'm able to understand more as I grow up, like that whole sunbathing thing. Guess that's another reason why it's fun to grow older.

[Savanaclaw Dorm – Jack's Room]

Jack: Alright. Now that I look presentable, I think I'll stretch out my muscles to prep for morning practice.

Jack: Phew… This old chair they supplied the room with really comes in handy for stretching.

Jack: Right after we got grouped together, none of us wanted it so we kept trying to shove it onto each other, but that was just a pain to deal with, so I kept it…

Jack: It's hard, sturdy, and it doesn't wobble so easily. Plus, the size is just perfect for someone of my height.

Jack: Next, I'll step onto the seat and… I guess I'll look over my class notes while I stretch, as usual.

Jack: I think we were on this page of the textbook for Magical History…

Jack: "The following year, the ancient incantations that were inscribed on the cave walls were successfully deciphered. The gathered mages then attempted to speak the ancient incantations…"

[Roommate B complains]

Jack: …Huh, what, I'm too loud? My voice woke you up? Well, good timing, the sun's almost up. Get up, already!

[Main Street]

Jack: Urk, is that who I think it is over there…? …Good morning, Riddle-senpai.

Riddle: Good morning, Jack. Have you finished with morning practice already?

Riddle: Happy Birthday. That's all I came here to say.

Jack: …Of course it was about that. Sorry to be a bother about it. I didn't mean to let it slip yesterday…

Riddle: Heh, you're no bother. We may be of different dormitories, however it is the duty of us upperclassmen to support our underclassmen.

Riddle: You should continue to do your utmost. …Of course, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that.

Jack: Yes, sir! I'll keep on improving!

Requested by @farfalla049.

[teamatsumu]

primal. (miya osamu x reader)

word count: 2586

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, fem!omega reader, porn with minimal plot, swearing, typical omegaverse jargon (scent, heat, rut, slick, knot)

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose

This was getting ridiculous.

Three whole days Osamu had not spoken to you. And for what? Because of a stupid argument you had about his new menu? In your mind, if he didn't want constructive criticism, he really should not have asked you for your opinion.

(You tried to ignore the gnawing guilt you felt that maybe you had been too harsh.)

But still, was it worth being this upset about? He hadn't replied to any of your messages. His phone was going straight to voicemail, and to top it off, even Atsumu hadn't heard from him. The blond twin had told you to just give him some space, and that he was ‘going through it’. But you scoffed. What exactly was he going through? All this over a controversial menu item? You didn't know Osamu could be so unreasonable over something so stupid.

Which is why you were standing at his door now, knocking for the last ten fucking minutes, while he didn't even bother to respond or open up. Your knocking had now progressed to vicious pounding, and you didn't give a shit if the neighbours heard. You were pissed. Osamu was being a baby and not communicating with you and you would make him talk if it was the last thing you did.

“Open this fucking door, Osamu!” You shouted for the tenth time.

“Go away!” Finally. Now that Osamu had gotten tired of your incessant pounding, he had finally responded. Triumph coarsed through you.

“I knew you were in there!” One more smack on the wood. “Open up. Now!”

“I'm tellin’ ya to go away.” His voice sounded strained. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit.

“What's up with you?”

There was some shuffling, and then a pained groan. Your muscles stiffened in alarm.

“Samu?” You could feel your anger drain away, replaced by worry. “Are you okay? Open the door!”

“Just go away. Everythin’ is fine. I'm not mad at ya. I just need ya to…. get away.”

You couldn't ignore the pain in his voice anymore. You tried the doorknob again to no avail. “Please let me in. I'm getting worried.”

Silence again. You leaned against the door, your panic only building. “Samu, please.”

Your anger was non-existent now. It didn't matter to you whatever stupid fight you two had gotten into. Your paranoid mind was racing and all you could think about was a million different ways that Osamu might be hurt. If anything happened to him…

Your heart imperceptibly broke.

You had known Osamu since high school, when him and his brother would melt your brain with their unnecessary fighting and competition. He was young and naive then, with that godawful gray hair that he thankfully abandoned after high school, and an attitude so fiery it left most other people in the dust. You couldn't understand why you were so attracted to him at first glance, but then he presented as an Alpha mere months after you first met, and your attraction to him became quite clear.

More than anything else, Osamu was your close friend. He understood you in a way his twin didn't, and you liked to think you were a good friend to him too. You kept your feelings for him pretty tightly wrapped up in your heart, afraid that an Alpha like him wouldn't want you. He was desired widely by many, many omegas. And he had always turned them down. If all those prime omegas weren't good enough for him, you didn't stand a chance.

So you lived with him as your friend, because you would rather have that than nothing at all.

You knocked on the door again, more softly this time, knowing he was right on the other side. “Samu, please let me in. Let me see.”

There was a thunk. You assumed Osamu had leaned his forehead against the door. “Omega…”

It clicked in you, like gears fitting into place. Your heart raced. You shuffled closer to the door until there was no more space left. You sniffed carefully.

There was his scent, heady and musky, sandalwood and something you had come to associate only with Osamu. A scent you had loved for so long it made you want to buckle to your knees. It was strong, heavier than any time you had smelled it before. It made your eyes cross, your breath pause. Something in your core stirred.

“Your rut?” You mumbled. You knew he heard you.

Osamu groaned low in response. Your thighs clenched.

Over the years, you observed that Osamu's ruts were rare. Maybe once every three months. He would always disappear a few days beforehand, and didn't reappear until it was well over and done. Atsumu said that since his ruts were so spaced out, they would always hit really hard. So you tended to leave him alone until he reached out first, talking normally and as if nothing had happened, picking up where he left off.

In your anger and with your fight fresh in your mind, you didn't realize that Osamu had likely gone off the grid because of his rut, and not because he was ignoring you. Now you were standing here, mere inches from an Alpha in full rut, with your own core tightening and something wet slowly dripping down the crease of your thigh. Your inhibition was slowly dissipating the more you frantically tried to breathe his faint scent. Your omega purred and whined.

“I could help.” You dared say. “I could help you, Alpha.”

Another groan, low and desperate, and you felt like it was rattling through your very soul. You bit your lip hard, hand twitching to move between your thighs, but you remained frozen. Osamu didn't move away from the door. His pants grew louder, and then he whined.

“Are you sure?” His muffled voice came, almost broken with desire. He wanted- needed- you to say yes. You nodded vigorously even if he couldn't see you.

“Yes!”

Some thudding, clicking, and then he pulled open the door. Your breath caught at the sight of him.

He was gloriously shirtless, and his loose sweatpants were doing nothing to hide his problem either. His erection was obvious, straining and standing against the struggling material of his pants. It would look almost comical if you weren't horny out of your fucking mind right now. His bare torso shone with a thin layer of sweat. You bit your lip so hard you were sure you drew blood.

“Holy fuck, you smell good.” Osamu's nose, more sensitive with his rut, twitched. His eyelids fluttered, and he took in a deep breath. You stared at him some more, wondering if you were dreaming.

“What are ya standin’ there for? C’mere, Omega.”

He tugged on your arm, until your body was making contact with his. Your hands rested on his chest, and you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating. He leaned down until his face was mere inches from yours. His breath hit your lips, made them tingle. Your core clenched painfully. His scent got stronger.

“Ya sure ya want this?”

You didn’t even have the strength to nod, feeling lightheaded. You only tilted your face up until your lips brushed his. “Please.”

A breathy curse, and then he was kissing you. His arms wrapped tight around your back, like he was scared you would disappear, one hand gripping possessively over your hip. You suspected it would leave a bruise.

You wanted it to leave a bruise.

He left you breathless when your lips parted. He tugged you in further and shut the door with a loud bang, before pushing you back against it. The manhandling turned you on to no end, the thought that you were someone Osamu was about to use to satisfy himself. Your already aroused mind went wild at the notion and you arched into him when he crowded you against the door, lips meeting in a frenzy. He bit and licked your mouth raw, invading your mouth like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you. You dug your nails into his biceps, reveling in the feeling of him, of finally having him the way you wanted. Your panties were soaked through by now. Your inner thighs held the signs of your desire.

His lips traveled down your neck next, licking and biting, inhaling and exhaling as he scented you. His cock pressed into your hip and you let him satisfy his need to leave his mark on you, basking in his scent that mixed with yours and how he laid his claim on you, albeit temporarily. His hands gripped hard at your sides, pushing your shirt up to run over bare skin.

“Wanted this so bad.” He rasped, biting dangerously close to your scent gland, you leaned into the sting. “Every rut. Ya know how many times I’ve jerked off to ya?”

His accent was thick, his words slurred. You were sure he was completely gone by this point. You gripped his hair hard.

“Wanted you too, Alpha.” You whimpered back. “Touch me, god, please.”

Osamu lifted you up then, two strong hands grabbing your asscheeks and carrying you across the room to where his couch was located. You wrapped your arms around his neck, taking the opportunity to lap and nip at his neck, scenting him back. Your drenched walls fluttered around nothing, crying and weeping for a nice, thick knot to fill you up.

You had a suspicion you wouldn’t have to wait long.

When Osamu dropped you on the couch, his hands immediately tugged on your clothes, pulling off your jeans and panties in one go. The fabric clung to you with how wet it was, and the air was cool on your burning skin. You used the moment to pull off your top until you were bare before him. Osamu kissed your calf, traveling up quickly with a few kisses laid on your skin. Your thigh, your stomach, the valley of your breasts, your jaw. He had tugged his sweats down already, and you felt something hard poke at your dripping entrance.

“Can’t wait, baby.” His voice trembled. “Need ya now. Need to knot ya so bad I’m gonna explode.”

And then he was sliding into your slicked up but unprepped pussy, carving his way through your spasming walls until a sharp pain went through you. You gasped at the glorious stretch, at your walls recognising an Alpha cock and opening up to accommodate him. Your wetness ran down your ass, likely soiling Osamu’s couch but you doubted he cared. He was cursing and whining in your ear, spine bending forward at the relief of finally sinking into a wet, ready cunt. His face was flushed a deep red, sweat building on his forehead. He sank into you to the base, your toes tingling with the sensation of being so full.

“Hold on, omega.” His last words. They almost sounded like a threat. Your breath caught.

Then he was gripping your hips and holding you down, before fucking into you hard and fast. You gasped at the sudden pace, legs pushed even further open as his cock repeatedly bullied itself into you. Your jaw went slack at the sensation, how he hit you so deep, sloppy noises filling the air along with your cries and his moans. His skin slapped hard against yours, leaving the inside of your thighs red and tender. His cock hit every spot just right. You felt your toes curl.

Osamu watched your reactions, nearly delirious himself, barely holding on by a thread.

“Feel good?”

You nodded frantically, fingernails scratching over his shoulders and arms. Osamu leaned down on his elbows, tongue poking out to lick at your lips every now and then.

“Tell me how good it feels. Tell me.”

“I-” You gasped and jolted with the force of his thrusts. Tears built up in your eyes and spilled down the sides of your face. “Can’t- can’t talk.”

“Yes you can.” His hand wound into the hair at the back of your head, tugging hard until you arched into him. “Say it. Say ya love my cock.”

“Love your cock.” You managed to wail, clamping down hard on him. He cursed and leaned down further, pace not even faltering in the slightest. His lips sealed themselves against the skin of your neck and he sucked hard.

“Tell me how bad ya want my knot.”

“Want it so bad.” You parroted, losing every coherent thought and just going along with what he was saying. Osamu continued to pound into you like he wasn’t even talking, like he wasn’t rearranging your guts or turning your legs to jelly. Like the base of his cock wasn’t rapidly swelling and catching on the rim of your hole.

Osamu pushed himself deep into you before stilling completely, and you nearly weeped in frustration.

“Tell me why ya deserve my knot.” He gritted, eyes meeting yours. Little golden flecks shown in his irises, and his incisors elongated below his bottom lip. He was deep, deep in the clutches of his rut. Combined with his messed up hair and flushed cheeks, he looked wild. Uninhibited. Dangerous. Your pleasure hit its very peak, teetering just over the edge, begging for that last push. You sobbed.

“Wanted you for so long.” You gasped and cried, tears pouring from your cheeks. “Wanted you to fuck me and knot me and give me your cum. Please, Alpha, please. I’ll be so good for you.”

Osamu groaned. Something in his eyes softened. He hooked a hand under your left knee and tugged it up, folding it against your torso. His cock pulled out before pushing back in, slowly picking up his pace again. You moaned loud, feeling your pit tighten up again.

“Why don’t ya cum fer me nice and hard, baby? Get me wet with your juice and then I’ll fill you up. Promise. I’ll shove this fat knot into your tiny little cunt. Just cum fer me, little omega.”

And you did. You arched into him, eyes rolling and arms seizing as you came harder than you ever had in your life. Electricity zipped through you and all air was punched out of your lungs until you felt that your very soul was leaving your body. You didn’t even register when Osamu groaned and stuttered in his pace, or when his knot swelled until it was bullied into your thoroughly fucked out and sore pussy. White hot cum filled your insides as he locked into you, hips flush against your own.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist as Osamu’s comforting weight settled on you. He licked and lapped at your neck softly, breathing into you until you were nothing but his scent, his touches, his marks. You panted and tried to catch your breath, legs trembling with aftershocks of the event. You could barely lift your arms to run over his bare back, but you managed. Osamu hummed at your soft touch.

All was silent beneath you two as the fog of his rut lifted. You could feel him slowly cool down, get pliant against you. You could almost sense his apprehension.

“Do ya regret it?”

You smiled slightly, staring up at the ceiling. “I meant it, Samu. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You could feel his own smile against your neck, his embrace around you tightening. “Me too.”

Your skin buzzed with warmth. While Osamu breathed softly against your neck, you let yourself drift into a quiet sleep.