#like his approval is in the green but not as high as everyone else i guess

[3gremlins]

kinda curious what everyone's core bg3 squad is (if you have one)? mine has turned out to be lae and ast with the fourth spot rotating in the other characters as needed/wanted, tho lately jaheira has been filling it the most for the extra heals (since i no longer have a cleric...) and also gale got abducted for the plot thing and i haven't gone and got him yet (i took him out of my party for one second!). I did more party switching in act 1 &2 but by 3 this is kinda what's been working best

i'm a bit sad karlach isn't quite on par with lae for tankiness tho (she's good as heavy dps but fighters are just like s-tier, they hit so hard and so many times lol), i prob could have multi-classed her earlier but oh well

(my tav is a druid which dictated the party comp a little bit, hopefully i can change it up a bit next pt...probably roll drow paladin again like i did in the EA, see if that changes it. it's hard b/c i do love my core squad now lol, i need to figure out how to get wyll in more, i finally got him a good rapier but idk his skills don't always gel with everyone else's as well)

[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 6

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 6 - Restart

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3.9k

AO3

Chapter 5

You walk into Quantico with a new sense of purpose after having drinks with Prentiss last night. The barrier that the section chief had built up with assumptions and unknowns had been removed and replaced with cautious optimism. That you can work with – a mutual understanding that you’re both on the same side, you meant no harm and were not a threat to the BAU. As it was a workday, you only shared another drink together but the two of you nursed them slowly.

As you still couldn’t say much about your past, you did elaborate on the high-speed pursuit that Tara hinted at.

“Yeah, so it all worked out. Dumb ass fell right into the spike strips. Took care of that quick once I got ‘em there,” you explain before taking another swallow of beer.

“They never learn.” Prentiss smiles and takes a sip as well. “But keeping pace with them was something else. No wonder they panicked.”

You smile. “Yep! Intel was good that they weren’t carrying much. They fired off a few rounds here and there to scare us off. Try and get me to fall back. They just never got the memo that the CIA Surveillance and Pursuit class was renamed cuz of me.” You raise your beer and wink at Prentiss. “Now affectionately known as the Maniac Chase Class.”

“Oh my god! That was you?” She laughs, shaking her head in amazement.

“Yeah. I gotta wee bit carried away on my third try.” You shrug coyly. “Really wanted to beat that record.”

“You demolished it.” She smirks. “And the car.”

“Which slid across the line for a new record,” you explain with pride and then pause for dramatic effect, holding your arms out, beer still in hand, “And … I walked away without a single injury.”

“See, that part I thought was all hype,” Emily admits and looks inquisitive.

“No, sadly. It helped I was young and dumb when I did it.” You say with introspective embarrassment. “I was so fucking stupid.”

She snorts with agreement while doing mental math. “Wait, how old were you when he recruited you?”

“Young,” you vaguely admit.

“But you joined before me,” she says, knowing you were aware of her records and nod that she was correct. “I joined late ’97 and everyone just naturally talked about the course like that.” You heard the implication. She meant that the nickname wasn’t a new idea and was trying to figure out how much longer you have been in the CIA before she joined.

You clear your throat in caution. “Leave it alone, Prentiss. I … I honestly can’t say anything more.” You grimace, knowing you already said too much.

Emily didn’t press for further information, but you knew she gleaned enough to make educated assumptions. You felt like a fool, letting your guard down like that, but the conversation flowed easily between the two of you. It felt … nice, being able to connect with someone new. That hadn’t happened since Rebecca.

You’ll need to keep your guard up since Prentiss reaffirmed that you would be a proper member of the BAU starting today. They would want to get to know you, and you them. You just have to remember to tone it down and not get carried away with enthusiasm. Keep Brian’s wisdom close to your heart that this is new to you and ground yourself. Don’t get swept away with emotions, like last night.

It was a late start at Quantico for you since you had to start at Langley. The stipend funds had been approved and your signature was needed on a lot of paperwork. Finance assured you that the money would be deposited into the BAU budget by the end of day. Prentiss would be able give Bailey the proverbial finger on Monday when she distributed the funds, pushing the unit into the green, leaving the penny pincher helpless with his mission to disband the BAU that way.

Prentiss had texted you that the team would be ready for you in the conference room discussing their current caseloads and leads and would wait for you, providing you that proper do over with them. You appreciated that and said as such in reply.

As you head off the elevator to the sixth floor, you felt a renewed sense of purpose and belonging. You even put a little more effort into your outfit, choosing a charcoal grey pants suit with a black sleeveless semi-spread polo collar, and comfy black work shoes with decent tread. You had your backpack on, holding the straps over your chest as you survey the area.

True to her word, the team was already in the conference room. Garcia happens to see you first and smiles big, giving you a quick, animated wave that caught Prentiss’ attention. She was standing and angles her body to the left to see who was there and visibly relaxes noticing it was you. The team follows her gaze as Prentiss gestures for you to join them.

JJ looks from Prentiss to Rossi, who was suspiciously smirking up at Emily. “And why are you smiley this morning?”

“Hm?” he looks over at her as Prentiss’ attention turns towards the exchange. “Oh, just delighted Whitlock can join us. Orientation’s a pain in the ass.”

He was equally relieved and surprised that Emily spoke to you as quickly as she did. Because of that, he wouldn’t press the orientation fib being told to the team.

“Man, I wish I had the short version like she did when I joined,” Luke grumbles playfully.

“Yeah, but you needed a lot of work honey, and honestly … still do, unlike our CIA cutie,” Garcia chides as you walk in.

“That my new rank?” you say with twinkling eyes and a brow raising to the group. “CIA cutie?”

The members collectively chuckle and laugh at the joke and as you look at Prentiss, she was fighting to keep her lips from curling upwards.

“No. Still a consultant.” Prentiss admits. She gestures to an empty seat between Tara and Garcia. “Please have a seat and we’ll get started.”

You nod and slip past Prentiss, sliding the backpack off your shoulders. You place it on the ground behind your chair and sit down. As you look at the BAU members starting back at you, you feel daunted. But you got this and look eagerly at Prentiss to kick this off.

“I know things have been hectic this week with all the changes and assignments and getting Whitlock up to speed on FBI protocols. She still has a few more items to go over, but I’m pulling her in since we can use all the help we can get,” Prentiss explains. “Garcia, mind getting Whitlock up to speed where we’re at?

Garcia immediately speaks up, almost bouncing on the seat at the chance. “You got it, Ma’am.”

Emily winces and presses her hand down towards Garcia. “What have I said about that?”

She smiles. “Not to call you Ma’am.”

“Please remember that.”

“You got it, Boss Ma’am.” Garcia says cheekily.

Emily sits down in a huff, and you have to cover your mouth to hide the smile on your face. The team did not hide their amusement at the banter.

“Anyway,” Garcia says and laces her fingers together before turning her hands inside out to crack them, “time for catch up!”

Her fingers dance across the keyboard and immediately your eyes go to screen depicting a U.S. map with sixteen dots. Each dot had a line that led to a description of the kill kit number, contents and the city and state of its location. Two of the dots are red, the others blue.

“We have recovered fourteen of the sixteen kill kits, no thanks to our firebug in holding right now. The two missing are from Indio, CA and Rockville, MD and your technological goddess is monitoring anything in the surrounding areas that sounds Sicariusy like.”

“How wide’s the radius?” you ask.

“Fifty,” she answers while you nod. “So far nothing’s pinged that shouts out, ‘I’m a Sicarius henchmen’. However, Mr. Dishonorably Discharged had a test kit that was really oooooold based on soil samples.”

“Five years isn’t that old,” JJ says.

“But the kits being activated by Sicarius, it is,” explains Rossi. “All the lockers we’ve found have new tech, supplies, chemicals …”

“Lab did confirm the soil samples from our kits are newer. So why give Green something older?” Prentiss asks the team.

“Maybe this one fit Green’s M.O. better?” Luke offers.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so,” says Rossi.

“What are you thinking, Dave?” urges Prentiss.

“That Green was set up?” you offer, looking between Prentiss and Rossi.

He half smiles, impressed, and points to you casually. “Kid’s good. That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Maybe he was testing Green to see what he’d do. Confirm if he was truly loyal or not.”

“And either way, Sicarius would get what he wanted. A big explosion or expose Green for who he really is,” JJ says emphatically. “

“All right.” Prentiss takes a moment to digest this and addresses everyone. “Give me some options.”

Luke leans back and gestures to Garcia. “Green was the last to see his sister. So, we’re thinking a cognitive interview might help him remember any details of that night. Anything that could help him ID the guy that took her.”

“Good luck trying to get him to agree to it,” states Tara. “He has big problems with authority figures. He won’t cooperate unless he has good reason.”

“How’s not finding his sister’s killer a good reason?” you ask.

“Oh, he’s really pissed off.” Prentiss says as you raise a brow. “We took away his chance at catching Sicarius and enacting his revenge.”

“And he really doesn’t like that I’m a Fed again.” Garcia pouts with that admission. “He sent me all that info thinking I was still distanced from all of this.” She gestures wildly at the room.

Prentiss looks sympathetic. “But we have to try. Luke, I need you to talk to Green and get him to agree to the cognitive interview. JJ, keep watch on the exchange.” They both nod and she addresses Garcia. “Keep working on any leads that might help us find those missing kill kits. Whitlock, you’ll assist.”

You visibly perk up at the sound of your name and look thankful for a hands-on opportunity. Inwardly, you were doing backflips. Prentiss could feel you buzzing with internal excitement and chuckles. “Not like you can catch up on any paperwork you don’t have yet.”

Rossi and Tara groan while Luke and JJ share a smirk.

“Oh, don’t even,” admonishes Prentiss. “You both get to play catch up in between interviewing Green until a case comes in.”

Luke is silent, lowering his head in defeat as JJ frowns while pouting. “Aww.”

Now that the team had their assignments, Garcia was utterly giddy and squeals towards you. “Come Robin! To the Batcave!”

Garcia catches you up on everything over the next few hours. From the hidden message apps on the unsubs phones, to the discussion forums, and how Sicarius used this to gain followers so he could teach them the ways of being sadistic killers. She had identified the usernames of the unsubs and was able to find that they all chatted with Sicarius - User45125. They also learned about the different murder methods that matched up with the bodies found in the shipping container. Out of the lockers that are missing, the BAU believes that kits would contain methods to kill by acid and strangulation to match the last of the victims.

“I can’t trace any direct messaging, so that’s why all of this is based on the forum info me and JJ combed through,” Garcia says, ending her lengthy summation.

“What a sick fuck.” You shake your head in disgust. “Play with the first round of victims and pass all that fun on to his new friends who do it all over again.”

You were sitting to the left of Garcia, lightly turning the chair back and forth with a foot on the floor. To your delight, it didn’t bother her. It was a habit you developed over time to help you think. You look over the conversations that Sicarius had with the unsubs and Green. He definitely narrowed down the chosen ones based on their psychopathic thrills.

“How many are on this message board again?” you ask, gesturing at the screens.

“Over half a million. Which just…bleh!” Garcia pauses, shivering for dramatic effect, “Makes me feel all squicky that there are that many of them chatting in one spot. But I narrowed down the really, really, bad naughties to seventeen k.”

“Damn. Fucker’s been busy.” You go silent as you calculate options with the information the BAU had.

Garcia glances at you, seeing your eyes darting back and forth in concentration. “What’cha thinking there?”

“I’m not sure. It’s just … “ you pause, words softening, “a half formed thought. A possibility.” You turn towards Garcia. “Can you narrow the users further by who hasn’t been active in a few months? At least since Green last contacted Sicarius? Bonus if longer.”

She blinks rapidly at you and looks put out. “Can I?!” She then closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Since you’re new, I will let that slight pass, but there is nothing I can’t do, missy.”

Except get your file, but you don’t need to know that!

“Apologies, M’Lady!” You smile, making sure to file that away to not offend the bubbly woman in the future. “If you would be so kind and continue working your magic?”

“And the lady shall be kind!” Garcia says with vigor and starts narrowing down the possibilities further.

The two of you work diligently over the next few hours. You guide Garcia with different traits to knock down the users into something manageable with the information that can be extracted from text. Emoji use, shorten expressions, length of posts, seeking knowledge and showboating instead of trying to engage in an emotional connection, aggressive language use, and interests.

“Here you go.” Garcia calls up a list of usernames that fit your specifications. “One-hundred and thirty-four.”

“Have any of those spoke to our guy at length? Something substantial?”

“Hm, yes!” She pulls those up.

That got you down to thirty-eight. “And how many of those appear to have contacted him through direct messaging?” You couldn’t know for sure but based on the flow of conversation and quality, there were hints.

She types quickly. “Ah, fourteen.” She shows you the names.

“List them by last known contact with him – earliest to latest.”

“Done.”

“Now pull up last few messages from each.”

“Also done.”

You read through them, ignoring the majority as you skim but there were a few that stood out.

Dark_Muse: Fucking cunt is finally gonna pay!!! Girls night is gonna end on a high!!!

_piouspisces: Woke up from a dream today. Hope it comes true. Just have to set up the right ingredients. Need advice on lacing paper. I have some ideas but need confirmation.

FlamePit23: The world only makes sense at sunrise and sunset. It’s when it looks like the world is set on fire. Beautiful.

You point to that last username. “Show me this one’s profile.”

Garcia clicks on it and reads. “’Nothing burns as bright as the rage inside you. Cultivate and embrace it. Keep it under your control’. Oh, they go on to say to never make any friends. That’s cheerful and lonely.”

“But they admitted to ‘nurturing others so I can take them off guard. Like my mother did to me when I was younger’ makes me think this one’s female,” you say while tapping the screen. “What’s the date and timestamp on the last message?”

“That would be … August 12, 2022 0550.”

You would bet that it was close to sunrise on that day when the user posted.

You pull your hand back to cup your chin in thought as Garcia looks oddly at you. “You know, I’ve been doing this a really, really long time, and I can usually predict where people are going with their data mining. But you? I have zilch of an idea because this makes no sense to me.”

You heard she was talking, but you weren’t listening. You were too focused on formulating a plan.

She puckers her lips in annoyance at being ignored and snaps her fingers twice in front of your face. “Hello?”

“Oh!” you say, jerking back into awareness. “I’m trying to come up with a crazy plan.”

“Please tell me this won’t result in you going AWOL again …” Prentiss had entered and neither of them had heard the door open.

You and Garcia share a look wondering if she even knocked as Prentiss walks in further expectantly. “Well?”

You sit back and reassure her. “Ah, no. Course not.”

“Wait. So, you really went AWOL?” Garcia asks curiously. “Did you serve before the CIA?”

“I didn’t serve.” You bit your lower lip and nod, coming to terms with what you can say. “I did some training with military personnel. All informal.”

You and the other four recruits had gone through training with the Green Berets, Navy Seals, and Delta Force. Something you couldn’t disclose as it technically never happened, hence, the informal part of your cover. You also are glad Garcia was distracted by that and didn’t ask you to elaborate on the AWOL matter.

Garcia whistles. “Wowzer.”

That made you smile. “A very simple, yet precise, way to put it.”

“A talent of hers for sure. But let’s get back to this crazy plan of yours,” insists Prentiss as she leans against the desk on the other side of Garcia.

“Again, it’s just the start of one but it could be a way to infiltrate Sicarius’ chosen ones without the need for vengeance to fuck things up.”

“You really say that word a lot,” notices Garcia.

“What?”

Garcia struggles by opening and closing her mouth like a fish to try and get the word out, but Prentiss beats her to it. “Fuck.”

“Huh?” You look at the section chief with confusion. “No thank you?”

“That’s… that’s not what I meant!” She answers, speaking quickly as you fluster her with the insinuation, and you couldn’t hold in your laughter any longer.

“What’s so funny?” she snaps.

“You!” you answer between cackles. “I knew what you meant.”

Garcia at least has the decency to look away while trying to fight off her own snickers as Prentiss takes a hand to her head to rub at her temples. “I swear to god, Whitlock …”

“Anyway …” you grin. “The idea is to chat him up with a username that is not entirely inactive but hasn’t been used in a bit. Think we found a prospect.”

Prentiss’ irritation with you changes to interest. “That so?”

Garcia nods. “Now that I know what the plan is, yes. I can do a deeper dive into this user and see what I can dig up.”

“Less is more, in this case,” you explain thoughtfully. “If we infiltrate this way, we gotta have enough info to be this user without him really knowing who this is. So, if you can find who they are, then we’re back to finding another. Because that means he would know their identity, too.”

Prentiss nods. “Do it. Green isn’t cooperating at all like Tara figured. He wouldn’t agree to the cognitive interview. Might as well see how this pans out while JJ tries to change Green’s mind.”

“On it, Boss Ma’am!” Garcia jests as she gets to work.

Prentiss looks up at the ceiling as if searching for patience, but as brown eyes come down, they focus on you. “Come with me and bring your stuff.”

“Sure thing.” You rise, grabbing your backpack but before you follow Prentiss, you squeeze Garcia’s shoulder. “This was nice. Working with you, that is.”

She tears her eyes away from the screen to look up at your soulful eyes. You really appreciated how Garcia jumped into working with you with fervor and not giving you the cold shoulder from earlier this week. “Aww, sweetie! Yes, we’ll keep working at it to make this idea blossom into a full blown plan!”

You smile so hard your cheeks hurt and stay that way until Garcia gets back to work. You then meet up with Prentiss to walk out together.

“Good first day.” It was an observation by the section chief.

“Yeah, it really was.” You were smiling again. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Her tone carries a mystique to it, and you become captivated while walking to the bullpen together. “But I owe you a proper thank you. Langley sent me the confirmation of funds.”

“I’ll behave.” Prentiss’ eyes widen when you say that. “I won’t start making it rain money at you in celebration.”

She chuckles. “So, you can control it?”

“Occasionally.”

“Good. Then I’ve no regrets in getting you something.”

That made you perk up. “You got me something?”

“Bit overdue, but …” Prentiss stops without warning at the first desk to the right when you enter the bullpen. “… it’s yours.”

You are befuddled as you shift your gaze from Prentiss to the desk and audibly gasp. Resting on top of it was your name on display as a consultant. “Wow.”

Pleased with your reaction, she nudges you with her elbow. “This is when you’re supposed to thank me.”

“Ah, right!” you laugh, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck before looking to her with a radiant smile. “Thank you, Prentiss.”

Your response without jest disarms her like it did last night over drinks. Your gazes lock for several beats and you just stand there with sincere gratitude that she welcomed you as a member of the team.

She recovers quickly with a stiff nod and motions to your desk. “You’re welcome. When you’re done getting settled, get back to working on that angle with Garcia.”

“You got it.” You immediately round the desk, already slipping off your backpack to place on top of it as Prentiss heads to her office.

That felt really nice to say in your head. Your desk. When was the last time you had a desk with a name plate? Everything you did was covert up until now so flashing your name and credentials was the equivalent to placing a target on your back with a bright flashing sign that says, ‘Shoot me!’. The right people knew your name when on mission, but most of your identity was done under aliases and callsigns.

You take a quick inventory of what’s on the desk – laptop connected to dual monitors, keyboard and mouse, stacked plastic organizers, phone, stapler, black plastic pen holder that was empty.

Guess I’ll have to find supplies…

You pick up the stapler and click it, watching a used staple hit the desk. At least that was ready to go for all the paperwork you’ll be doing now. The team will be excited to hear that! You then pull out the chair to get acquainted with the drawers only to be shocked for the second time today.

Waiting for you on the chair was a six pack of Diet Coke bottles with a blue sticky note attached. You peel it off to read and immediately smile.

Welcome to the BAU, Whitlock.

EP

Chapter 7

@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven

[jjkeremika]

AoT men Vices

description: sex, drugs, cigarettes, and, well, you.

pairing: eren, armin, zeke, levi, reiner, jean (x fem!reader)

disclaimer/warning(s)?: stoner eren; oral(fem receiving); drinker zeke; groping; slutty levi; penetration; smoker reiner; rope play; gambler armin; fingering; jealous jean; choking; nsfwwwww

eren

• always high on weed/dabs/carts/edibles (doesn’t matter)

• his pale skin and green irises only accentuated the faint red tinge in the whites of his eyes, like a light blood splatter on american money

• hes tormented!! cut him a little slack. its not his fault his dad gave him the worst type ii bipolar disorder and narcissistic personality disorder a clinician’s ever seen

• gets horrendously horny when he’s high around you, starts touching and holding and kissing and biting you to get and keep your attention

• chews on his fingernails, jitters his legs, and licks and bites his lips as he stares at you, as he feels himself getting harder and harder at the thought of you getting wetter and wetter

• whines about how his throat is dry and he needs to taste you, to drink the liquid sliding out of you, until his tongue and jaw were cramping and his mouth was sore

• will pull you into his lap, gnaw on your shoulder and the lobe of your ear as his hands creep down your abdomen towards the source of the wet stain forming on his lap

• his voice lowers an octave as he begs to touch and taste you, as he asks if his hands and lips inching closer to your crotch is allowed and okay because he so desperately craves your approval

• “oh, baby, please, baby, only you can fix my dry mouth with your wet, pretty fucking pussy, god, baby, please, i’m so thirsty”

• moans so fucking loud when you finally give in and let him lick your clit, his fingers eagerly digging into your thighs as he pulls you so, so much closer, until there’s no air between his mouth and your skin

• devolves into demanding that you ride his face, hop and slide on his mouth with your shiny thick thighs with absolutely no hesitation, no regard for his lungs

zeke

• sad king who drinks most nights

• a gin and tonic or scotch on the rocks kind of man. likes the burn at the back of his throat on the way down

• confessed a similar reason to why he swims; liking the burning ache in his lungs when he holds his breath under the water. reminds him he’s alive

• has a poor relationship with his parents and half-brother. wants and sometimes tries to reconcile but he’s not really a people-person and he struggles to forgive

• divulges to you about his neglected dreams and pile of regrets, over analyzes situations until it all feels hopeless and meaningless

• holds you closer and tighter, at first because he’s fighting tears but then because he’s overcome with pure devotion because you’re here, with him, comforting him, every time

• and he’s certain you have so many other places you could be and more interesting people you can be with and yet you’re holding him too

• tells you that you mean the world to him, that he’s hopeless without you, that you give him something to smile and dream about, that he’d be nothing without you

• he’ll hold your wrists behind your back with one large hand and hold your neck with the other, prying your lips apart and re-introducing your tongues to each other, like he does every other night

• his hands roam as you kiss, his fingernails lightly tracing the goosebumps on your skin to the tail of your spine, the other hand following the curves of your ribcage to where your breast naturally interrupted

• “oh, i love your body, i live to please you, i live for you,” he’ll murmur for the thousandth time against your tongue as his long fingers clasp around your fleshy boob, squeezing with a fearful hold that you’ll pull away and leave him like everyone else

levi

• sex. with you. a lot.

• he doesn’t talk about his feelings or explain his emotions. there are no conversations about his past and his future. they all start one sided, and end in sex

• it’s a cop out. he knows it, you know it, but it’s so fucking good you don’t really care

• every time you try to ask about his family, his friends, his career, or even if he thinks there’s a future between you two, he’s avoiding the question and shoving his tongue down your throat

• he keeps his hand around your neck as he kisses you insistently, as he tries to kiss you until you’re dizzy and you forgot that he was trying to distract you in the first place

• gets needy and wanting, turning you around, stripping you, and bending you over before you could say a word

• impatient and selfish. he drops some lube into his palm and slicks his own cock up, shoving two or three fingers in you for short, to-be-desired thrusts before he’s gasping over you and inching the tip to your exposed muscles

• he chortles airily at the hearty moan you release once he presses inside, the euphoria encompassing his dick and shipping through his bloodstream

• he practically bends you in half, arranging you so he’s pounding into your pussy with your ass presented to his face and your own face shoved into a pillow, mascara and eyeshadow staining into the sheets at the growing desirable ache in your abdomen

• smacks your ass until his handprint is visible as he relentlessly shoves himself inside you, as he gives you every inch of muscle control and strength he has

reiner

• chronic cigarette smoker

• built balcony and patio attachments to your house so he could easily step outside

• you watched him build them shirtless and sweaty, a lighter tucked loosely in his low cut pant pockets and a cigarette lightly held behind his ear

• tries his best to cover the sour tobacco smell with rustic vanilla or mahogany colognes. up for debate when it worked, but the mix of scents really could be oddly pleasant sometimes

• he’s haunted by regrets he won’t even tell you about. doesn’t want to burden you, or rather burden himself with the knowledge that then you’d know too, and there really would be no running away

• you could see them as shadows behind his glassy eyes, always lingering when the lights were on and engulfing him in the dark

• you took it upon yourself to lift his moods, to break him free from the thought patterns that kept him chained to his lot in life

• brought the metaphor to life and bought handcuffs and rope, tied and locked his ankles and wrists to the bedposts, his vulnerability on full display

• his whole body was blushed pink as you gingerly caressed him, crawled up and down his rigid muscular body and ran your sharp fingernails and tongue down his center

• you reminded him he was chained down when he abruptly reached up and out for you, his wrists aggressively slapping back against the mattress or his legs threatening to break the post with fast squirms

• like a wolf chasing after a rabbit, reiner huffed and drooled over you and the sexy shapes you made with your hips as you wiggled all over him, grinded against him and relished in the whines and begs to be released from his holds and touch you

armin

• first got into gambling when eren convinced him to go to a casino for his 21st birthday

• and while the huge crowds and loud noises and overstimulating lights originally raised his anxiety, the adrenaline and excitement of playing and winning won out

• tried to quit a few times but always found his way back to gambling and betting

• card game aficionado. loves the tactile nature of it, always plays with the corners of the cards with his fingertips. sometimes you catch him shuffling and playing cards in his free time at home

• poker is easily his favorite, especially because he can read people like a book. you could never lie to or hide from him

• refuses to say it’s an addiction. it’s more of an intricate hobby, or a challenge he has to bet his way out of

• the worst part is he’s actually pretty good at it and wins more than seventy percent of the time. but when he loses, he loses and he obsesses over it for days

• during good streaks he buys you expensive knickknacks and trinkets and blankets and jewelry, takes you out to dinner more frequently

• feels extra confident when he’s on a hot winning streak, buying you lingerie and telling you to wear it, to turn it into a show for him in the bedroom with him sat on the bed and the lights on

• his hot hands and cold metal rings needily grasp at your sides, his wet tongue caressing the lacy line where the lingerie met your cleavage

• he’ll get impatient, too turned on with your dance to contain himself so he’ll pull you onto his hard erection and bite the nape of your neck to hold you in place

• he’ll stand up and turn you over, hover over you as the mattress shapes to your curves and armin’s hands follow

• loves fingering you with three to four fingers, his eyes doubling in size as he watches your muscles stretch and encompass the appendages. has to clutch the base of his dick like a cock ring to prevent himself from cumming at the site and at the warm, blankety feeling

• sometimes likes to be a bit cheeky and not take his rings off, letting the rings escape inside your opening and feeling it slide toughly against his skin in contrast to your so soft, so sensitive, so inviting body

• the cool metal of his rings was always enticing, and you always gasped heartily and physically thrived at the hard cold material inside

• “oh, shit, baby, i think my ring came off inside you,” he tells you calmly with a wide premeditated smirk, his fingers going limp inside you, “let me just get it out real quick”

• he’ll poke and prod and fold his fingers against your tissue as the ring moves loosely inside you, as you feel yourself building to an inescapable high with armin’s cheeky smirk between your legs as the ring just so happens to keep slipping from his grasp

jean

• jealous jeanyyyyyy

• glares at other men as they talk to you, even if it’s something as innocent as asking for directions or for a petition signature

• usually steps between you and the offending man, escalates the situation beyond necessity by antagonizing the man and firmly demanding an apology for wasting your time

• his blood just boils like hot water in a kettle when he sees you with someone else, someone that’s not him but it should be

• has issues sharing, so there was no way in hell you were slipping out of his attention, and he’s arrogantly insecure, to the excess point that you should only see and talk to him. he’s all you should need right?

• when he saw you calmly talking to eren he flipped his lid, said fuck it to the world and interrupted the conversation

• brings you to the nearest private (i.e., empty and lockable) room and pushes you against the wall or door, his hand firmly locking around your neck

• his hands were so large your whole neck was covered. his fingers were so long the tips touched at the back. his grip was present and firm, and maybe a bit threatening

• “do i speak another language to you? am i on another fucking planet so far you can’t even hear me?”

• he’ll slap the wall next to your ear with his open palm, smirk as you jump from surprise at the sudden outburst

• he leans closer to your ear, the pressure of his hand against your windpipe slightly increasing, his wet hot tongue flicking against your sensitive exposed ear

• “do i need to teach you another lesson?” another light squeeze. “on how to behave?”

[healingwordswriter]

Why “Defying Gravity” from Wicked is a perfect song for Sun Wukong

Hello Lego Monkey fandom, this is really my first post ever as I often don’t post stuff but I really wanted to share this BECAUSE I love both musical theater, Wicked to be exact and Lego Monkey Kid of course. So this is an analysis on why I believe this song is perfect for Sun Wukong’s character.

Beware Spoilers for both Wicked the musical and the movie

Some context is necessary to explain why I find this correlation for those not familiar with Wicked. In the musical, “Defying Gravity” is the end of act one, and is one of the most important parts of the musical, not only for the story, but for the character of Elphaba as well. Elphaba the wicked witch of the west, had been discriminated her whole life for being different, for having a green skin which made her be isolated, so she often tried her best to win people’s approval her personal dream being meeting the wizard of Oz, hoping to get recognition and love by working with him. But after he falsely accuses her for a crime she did not commit, Elphaba realizes she can’t win love that way, that she doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life being walked over, so she openly defies the wizard, saying “he is the one who should be afraid of me” showing her true powers as a witch, saying proudly no wizard will ever bring her down. Of course, Oz from there on starts seeing her as a villain and a monster, but she is true to herself now and unafraid to defy the authority of the Wizard.

But now how this applies to Sun Wukong?

Despite having different contexts, Elphaba and Wukong share a very important trait with one another. That being, how both defied a high authority in their respective stories, defying everything everyone else knew. Being unafraid to act and make a change, having the enough confidence and bravery to say that no one would ever bring them down.

Sun Wukong is know in media as a character that is not afraid to challenge those who stand in his way, no matter how big they are, he doesn’t let anyone walk over him and is firm on his beliefs. Of course, in the past is true that he used to be selfish and impulsive before his journey to the west, but in LMK even before his journey, something he had clear like we have mentioned before, is that no one had the right to walk over him, less the emperor or heaven. No one had the right to tell him who he was or dictate his destiny just because he was a demon. So this rebellious side of him wasn’t only to cause chaos, this side of him also show us how since always, he was confident and genuine to who he was and his people in flower fruit mountain and most importantly, was loyal to his own beliefs and fought for said beliefs even if others considered him a monster or harbinger of destruction. Just like Elphaba. He will defy those who think he should be below them just because he is different, he will fight those who want to bring him down and he will be loyal to what he believes is worth fighting for.

Now with these clear we can see the lyrics, and how I interpret them is they were from Wukong’s POV specifically the last part:

So if you care to find me

Look to the western sky

Literally, he was in the western sky as he did a journey to the west, he was in the western sky traveling with his master and friends to get the scriptures. Literally you can hear west and think about him.

As someone told me lately

"Everyone deserves the chance to fly"

The monk always helped Wukong as a mentor and was the guidance he needed when he was out on control on his life, so I personally viewed this line as something his master told him, and he then used it as a philosophy to think everyone deserves to fly, to be free, to dictate their own destiny and life.

And if I'm flying solo

At least I'm flying free

To those who ground me

Take a message back from me

This, this is how Wukong starts to defy heaven, the emperor. He may be alone, but he is free, heaven more than once tried to have him tamed, to have him controlled, to ground him but he refuses this control. Even when they put the golden circle on him, he never stopped fighting for his independence and freedom.

Tell them how I am defying gravity

I'm flying high, defying gravity

And soon, I'll match them in renown

His legend to this day is still known, he started everything as he wanted the respected of heaven and in the end he showed them he wasn’t inferior to them, the name Sun Wukong is a name they will always remember.

And nobody in all of Oz

No wizard that there is or was

Is ever gonna bring me down

Just imagine it, Wukong in the sky, with his staff in hand, confident, strong showing his power, being imposing. Looking at everyone from his position, thinking about the choices he has done, reflecting on his life. And then he says it’s, how no one in all China, no Emperor that there is or was is ever gonna bring him down. He flies free, while the people in heaven scream in horror and anger, calling him names, seeing him as someone evil and cruel but Wukong is happy, finally free from heaven and those regrets that brought him down. He remembered how it feel like to fly and won’t forget it ever again.

And that’s pretty much the analysis, this song tbh could be applied to when Wukong first defied heaven with the brotherhood or if he is in a similar situation like in Black Myth Wukong in where he already did his journey but he is still fighting heaven for his freedom and independence.

Even so, in the end I believe Wukong and Elphaba share this free and brave spirit that defied the odds when no one else could. In the end I just did this analysis for fun and using Lego Monkey Kid Wukong mostly for this analysis, but hey it has never been a crime to mix to hobbies so.

To conclude all I can say it’s that I love these two pookies and to please go watch Wicked and LMK as the two are gems ✨

[amywritesthings]

gingerbread sweet. / a reiner holiday ficlet

pairing: reiner braun x f!reader ( attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin ) word count: 1.1k summary: It's the Titan frat's annual gingerbread house competition. Your boyfriend, Reiner Braun, is determined to win. You, however, are determined to distract.

tags: modern au - university, holiday fluff, gingerbread houses, all the marleyans are in a frat bc i said so, devoted boyfriend!reiner, light sexual tension credit: dividers by @saradika

welcome to the eleventh day of the twelve days of amymas !!

“Does the door look crooked to you?”

"The what?"

"The door. Look at it."

There’s nothing more amusing than watching your hulk of a boyfriend crouch over a tiny gingerbread house.

Reiner Braun squints as he presses a gumdrop to the front — circular windows make it modern, or so he claims — then pauses.

Distracted by a very minor detail, you can already feel his anxiety running his brain a mile a minute: a lopsided door may deduct a few points from Marcel's arbitrary points system from this very arbitrary holiday competition.

Because he's absolutely fucking determined to win.

Granted, the bragging rights are his, but the grand prize will not be — Reiner, of course, rarely rides this hard for something he wants.

No, he’s too willing to put everyone else's wants and needs above his own.

So the grand prize of the Titan fraternity annual gingerbread house competition is going to go to you, hell or high water.

He’s going to win you that goddamn spa day gift card that Marcel has been dangling as a sweet little incentive no matter how long it takes him to mold this gingerbread house into his image.

"I think it looks straight."

The tip of his pink tongue pokes out a little from his pressed lips as he leans in closer. "...I trust your eye more than mine."

The blonde sits up to fish for the green icing piping bag. He's gentle with the way he eases the icing along the edges of the tiny confectionary door.

(An icing wreath, like this couldn't be anymore adorable.)

“Reiner?” you coo.

“Yeah, babe.”

Flat. He’s in the zone.

“You know you don’t have to slave over this thing, right?”

You scoot your chair closer to his, dropping your temple to his large tricep.

“I can buy my own spa day card.”

“False,” he corrects. “I’ll buy you the spa day card myself, but if I gotta cheat Porco out of winning for the third year in a row. Pieck’s gone at least five times on our dime.”

"When were the other two times?" you ask, not correlating the math.

"Well, our freshman year," Reiner begins, using the green icing to make little bushes at the foundation of the house, "we did a Valentine's day relay race that ended up with Bert in urgent care with a broken nose. Then, the one-and-only pool party chicken fight tournament — Pieck and Porco fought dirty."

"Is that why it was the one and only?"

"Yeah. Bert got another bloody nose, but that time from Annie going a little too hard."

He snorts.

"We had to save him from becoming the next Owen Wilson, so — no more chicken tournaments."

Titan frat is… well, excessively competitive, you've learned in your year or so of dating Reiner.

(Blame Porco and the new pledge, Eren Yeager, for only exasperating in this year with the month-long holiday challenges.)

You shrug a shoulder. “I could help.”

“And mess up your pretty nails?” Reiner shakes his head, glancing briefly through his peripheral vision. He smirks. “Ain’t no way.”

Right.

Reiner’s also very giving, during this season — in more ways than one.

First it was the fully-paid-for manicure yesterday.

Then it was the reservation for a Christmas Eve dinner to your favorite spot in the inner city.

Now he’s trying to win Marcel's approval in this ridiculous decorating contest in your name, and you feel… well, loved.

(There's no disputing that you've won the boyfriend lottery.)

Which, of course, means you have only one thing you can do in this situation.

He’s too wound up.

Distracted.

So you reach down to the pile of icing supplies strewn about, picking the small red accented tube.

You swipe some on the tip of your finger, mindful not to get it under your nails.

Reiner doesn’t even see it happening.

He’s too busy playing fixer-upper on the front side of the house, his too-big hands delicately toying with the too-small decorations he’s pasting on the cookie.

You wait a few seconds, letting him place the door where he wishes, before swiping the icing over the side of his neck.

Reiner tenses, turning to see what the hell just hit his neck, but he’s too late—

You’re already leaning in, sliding the tip of your tongue along his skin.

The man gasps, dropping his own piping bag to the supply assortment below.

“What are you—”

“Decorating,” you murmur nonsensically, grinning from ear to ear as his attention disappears completely from the gingerbread house to you.

“The guys are in the other room,” he rasps, eyes wide.

The pledges, he means — banished to the enclosed patio as they work on their own poorly-designed houses.

Through the last year while dating Reiner,  you’ve learned very quickly how sensitive he is.

Sometimes all it takes is a look to get him hard.

Your ego has never recovered, and it’s not deflating now.

Except his eyes soften and a gentle chuckle exits his throat when his golden eyes search your face.

“Wait, you got—”

“What?”

His hand gently cradles your jaw. 

“Hold still, baby.”

His thumb raises to swipe at your nose, where his smile only grows.

You stay still, obedient to his command, unable to stop looking at him.

God, he’s gorgeous.

He’s so fucking gor—

Something touches your lips, and you belatedly realize Reiner’s taken it upon himself to push the red icing along the seam of your lips, parting them easily.

You can taste the sugary sweetness on the tip of your tongue.

“Shit, sorry." When your brows knit in confusion, Reiner explains himself. "Seems like I missed a spot.”

Oh.

Oh.

His pupils dilate as his gaze drops to your lips, as if he’s ready to devour your whole.

Your entire body turns into flames.

“Just one spot?” you murmur, and a wicked smirk crawls to his mouth.

That same thumb drops to glide the remaining icing over your chin.

“I fear it's a couple of spots, but don't worry. I'll get you cleaned up.” He tilts his chin. “I take care of my girl, remember?”

(As if you could ever forget.)

His words get your blood pumping. Pledges and wandering eyes be damned.

“What about the gingerbread house?” you murmur, entranced by the way he continues absently swiping icing over your jaw, chin, and cheeks.

(Marking a trail his lips will devour.)

“We can bring the icing upstairs,” Reiner suggests with an innocent shrug. You know it’s anything but. “I’ll finish that damn house eventually, but I have something sweeter to tend to.”

Before you can say another word, the blonde stands from his chair and gently takes your hand into his.

You easily stand with him, unable to stop giggling as he tugs you eagerly upstairs.

He’s determined to win, yes, but to him —

He’s already won.

He has you, after all.

.

[goldenspringmornings]

this is something I’ve said about h*td too but I really don’t think that writers and fans understand how fictional monarchies work anymore.

sjm has created a high fantasy absolute monarchy where the title is passed on genetically through magic, but fails to actually like….think about the consequences of that. absolute monarchs don’t answer to anyone, there is no council they have to get approval from or send out a vote on matters of state or anything like that- law is whatever they say it is, the monarch might have advisors but the final decision is always theirs.

which of course brings us back to the night court because unfortunately we spend the most time there. I’m not saying anything no one else has said but the night court is not run like a true (fantasy) monarchy. not with the way illyria and the hewn city are treated, the hewn city especially actually because how can rhysand still call himself high lord when he explicitly lets the hew city govern itself up until he needs something from them?

rhys even mentions at one point he either dismissed all his fathers courtiers or they left (I don’t remember which, it was tamlin’s thing first) and then he installed the ic in their places. but then doesn’t actually….do anything after that. well okay he does do one thing- bitch and moan. and that’s annoying.

western media (american media especially) has shifted imo into this cultural need to force everything they read/watch/consume through a narrow modern lens that just doesn’t fit well with this pretty well defined fantasy trope and you can see it reflected in the absolute vitriol people will spew in regards to h*td specifically. this is an acotar post I swear but to tangent for a second: the team black/team green divide is, again imo, largely based in the fact people aren’t thinking of politics when they’re watching the show- they’re more focused on having a good time and liking the characters. and a large, large percentage of people watching the show aren’t book readers and don’t understand that fire and blood is a piece of propaganda written long after all the events it’s talking about have happened. that doesn’t translate well to tv. and the showrunners hopefully know that and that’s why they’re taking the show in the direction they are (not that I like it, I’m team black and they’re even isolating me with the shit they’re pulling).

bringing this back to acotar though, you can tell this… irreverence ig is the best word for it, for monarchs right from the first chapters of maf and feyre’s complete disinterest and disdain for the role of Lady of Spring. yes it’s also due to her very recent trauma, and I do think it would have been best for everyone if they’d waited longer to marry, but feyre desperately doesn’t want political power and views tamlin’s incredibly mild and indulgent exercise of it through the tithe as morally reprehensible but finds the taxes of the night court as fine and good even though they’re the same thing in the end. one is a direct and obvious example of monarchical power- tamlin and feyre had to physically be there to collect the tithes- while the other is more subtle and not as harsh sounding and more palatable to the modern reader because just like irl it’s (presumably) an automated and invisible process.

feyre and rhys don’t have to engage with politics in the night court if they don’t want to, and overwhelmingly they don’t. they’re perfectly happy hiding away in velaris and leaving illyria and the hewn city to their own devices until it benefits them and even in velaris they have the city governors actually running things. at best feyre and rhys are figureheads and at worst they’re puppets.

for a world designed to need the high lords, they’re surprisingly irrelevant. high lords and their magic could just as easily be replaced with Some Guy and nothing would inherently change except the name were ostensibly supposed to remember as Important (I cannot tell you how many times I’ve have to look up kallias thesan’s names). high lords don’t really do anything and I’m sure that’s just the failings of sjm as a writer but it also makes the world supremely unserious. there’s no weight to the power they have, it’s just some words we as the audience are supposed to find significant because they would like they would be Important People irl with a title like that.

I’m starting to ramble now but hopefully this makes sense; I’ve got a lot of opinions on the politics of acotar obviously and it’s getting really tiring seeing people say that fictional monarchies are bad just because they’re monarchies and that everyone should just switch to democracy when it could be fun to have a monarch instead.

[cozzzynook]

Idea!

Rodimus while with the habit of shirking his captain duties is actually pretty proactive in taking care of his crew

Like he loves his found family obviously (knows everyone’s name even cause he’s THAT good) so like short of paperwork (the horror) he’s willing to do a lot to make them happy

For example, the medics have been complaining about the quality of their supplies and Roddy overhears (or heard through Drift) and strings are pulled and the next time they restock on supplies they’re hooked up with a different and probably better supplier

Or gossip around the bar says there’s this big racing event on Velocitron coming up and people were talking about how they wish they could watch (like they’ve haven’t seen a race since before the war or smt) and suddenly their next pit stop for energon is conveniently Velocitron within the timeframe of the event

Brainstorm needs a super specific mineral but it isn’t high priority so he doesn’t ask for it? Tracked down and included in their next supply list. Crosscut needs a custom set piece for his next play? Set up for him on his stage within a week. Blaster wants to start a radio show on the intership comms (because let’s be honest they don’t use it that much)? Approved and green lit (mayhaps behind Mags’ back but he won’t find out until too late)

At some point people do start noticing but no one really acknowledges it you know?

There is however a secret Rodimus appreciation club (secret because they’re afraid of what it’ll do to his ego if he knew) because if Rodimus is taking care of everyone else, there should be people taking care of him

The founder may or may not be Thunderclash and Drift may or may not be super salty about that fact

Oh my gosh i love this idea!

Roddy really does a lot for his crew he just hates paperwork. It makes him break out in a viral rash, literally. Ratchet has never seen anything like it lol

I say he makes it up to Magnus by getting him books and poetry artifacts because Magnus is into that kinda stuff. He also makes it up to Megatron by doing his shifts often just not the paperwork lol and by sneaking the mech some high quality high grade and home cooked fuel that he made personally. Roddy’s a great cook and mixologist its just the stuff he makes will sneak up on you and its heavy engenx not for the light weights lol

For Ratchet he gives him a full week off every month with Drift of course. He’s fine picking up the shifts because he gets something to do and socialize. He also makes sure he keeps a good stock of Perceptors favorite fuel since the mech is with Brainstorm all day.

He even makes sure Whirl gets to let his rage out on old equipment or things they need to get rid of. The mech is a lot less violent since allowed to have a rage room of sorts. In fact a lot of mechs are leas violent since Roddy put the rage room in. He thanks swerve for his service and the idea by having Blurr on the ship for a solid week.

No one went near Swerves hab but the occasional metal clangs told them he was getting lucky. That and Blurr leaving his personal comm with Swerve covered in blue paint.

Roddy definitely doesn’t need to know about his appreciation club. Definitely not.

They do all wonder why Soundwave of all mechs greets Rodimus at the vacation planet he was mysteriously given tickets to and why the mech has a servo on his lower back leading him somewhere private.

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

My thing with writing König is trying to find the sweet spot balance point of like 3-4 different angles that are integral to the characterization I want to put out there.

I want him absolutely riddled with the kind of dangerous loser vibes that start the first day of kindergarten as almost an leprotic aura of Contaminated: Do Not Touch that everyone he comes into contact with wordlessly picks up on and carries for his entire life.

Just borderline violent othering that he struggles to fight, embrace, and figure out without ever getting a clear answer or mitigation method. He gets older and becomes a problem, a human toxic waste dump, and the avoidance is tinged with alarm. He figured out how to cover it, though, like he’s pulling on a patchwork person suit.

I’m a real boy, I’m like everyone else, nevermind the seams. Yeah, they’ll split the longer you’re around, but maybe this time—this time—I will have become an endeared thing and I will be understood instead of left.

Skin-splitting horniness, which is ha-ha on the surface, but Jesus Christ, it’s starvation, straight-up. Man is a fucking alien, he doesn’t get people, his veneer of normality is quick to shatter, and he just wants-wants-wants to be wanted. To be needed is a pipe dream. He’s like a dog taken away from mom and litter mates too soon—the need for closeness is set at so high a threshold it’ll never be met, never be fixed.

Fucking is a quick fix for this desperation. Bandaid over a bullet hole, finger in a cracked dam. Gets sharper teeth and longer claws the lower the fuel gauge is, and he’s been running on fumes for years. He’ll eat any scraps given to him at any table. Any even mildly kind word, any mote of attention, approval, or acceptance.

Even in his worst mind, he knows he’s not owed, he is not dying because he is not getting fucked or loved or befriended, but god fucking dammit, what he wouldn’t give for company to cut the bleakness, to not be fucking flinched at or eye-rolled. He wants to eat someone piecemeal as they eat him piecemeal, and the brutal symbolism of cannibalism is the best way he can understand the depth of this fragile-skinned desire.

A level of jaundiced, yellow-eyed sweatiness that pervades every aspect of his life. This is more difficult to describe. It’s literal sweat—from flop or exertion, it doesn’t matter—it’s also a state of being. It’s having not a flicker of volume control—indoor yelling or outdoor muttering. It’s being exhausted and anxious to the point of hysterical cry-laughing at hallucinations after 3-4 days sleepless. It’s saying the wrong fucking thing at the wrong fucking time and chasing yet another person off and wanting to kill himself for it.

It’s surviving on 4 hours of sleep and cigarettes and any kind of caffeine and below-board military amphetamines he can get his hands on for the last ten years because he feels like he’s wasting time. It’s getting smacked because his monstrosity of a body fucking hurts and being borderline greened-out makes it easier to go grocery shopping or to the gym or outside. It’s showering and then cutting his hair over the sink and not giving a fuck what it looks like as long as it’s not getting caught in his collars.

He doesn’t blink, he doesn’t sleep, he’s constantly spilling hyena-pitched stupid nervous laughter, and he bites when he’s overdone, and his teeth aren’t dull. He’s never threatened violence that he can’t overpay out on. He pulls on his face and his scars and that might as well be the same thing, gets sick to his stomach that they’re still numb and he can’t push into the pain he remembers from them. Sometimes he just moans and groans, shoves a hand up under his mask to cover his mouth like he’s going to hold back the tide of bile. He does this shit in front of people, and wants to die when he figures it out.

He likes killing people, he likes feeling powerful, he likes being seen when he’s the executioner, he likes being a scary nightmare. He doesn’t even know if he’d rather fight than fuck, but at least he’s good at it, and there’s undeniable imagery in driving a knife in between ribs over and over and over. He’s never not throbbing hard at exfil, and he’s never not sick to death with himself and his fantasies after he beats off the second he gets privacy.

Anyway I love him, he’s a sad sack.

[daddysfangirls-dc]

The Arrangement

Ch 3 Meet the Butler (Grandfather)

Damian Wayne x OC!Female

Prev | Next

After breakfast, everyone disburst to their respective duties for the day, leaving only Damian and Alfred home. And with the events of the previous night Damian was relieved to be left alone. On one hand he didn't want to deal with the many questions and assumptions and on the other hand he wished to speak with Alfred alone. 

"Alferd"

"Damian"

"Do you wish to meet her?"

"... I'd very much like to meet your fiance," with emphasis on the word Fiance.

"She's free this afternoon."

"I'm sure your father-"

"The invitation was only extended to you."

Alfred stood silent for a moment. Only a moment. " Very well."

-

Learning she was compromised, she quickly left, taking any evidence of her presence. At Damian's insistence, she made plans to leave the city before nightfall but after she met with Alfred.

She was very excited to meet Alfred. Damian held him in high regard, higher than anyone else, and thought of him as a grandfather. His approval and acceptance were more important than anyone else's. (She believed it all stemmed from how he used to idolize Ra. Alfred was a much better role model.) He had all of Damian's respect, and with everything he had shared with her, she knew he deserved it. She was very excited to meet Damian's Grandfather. 

She was also very nervous as if he thought little of her or thought she was unfit for him. She had no doubt the relationship would cease or continue, but she struggled a great deal. She didn't want either of those, so she had to make a good first impression. He needed to like her. 

That is why she is currently sitting in a small tea house in the city. She is aware of Alfred's taste for tea and figures he likes it. And if he doesn't, well, this isn't his regular tea house, and they would never come back. She sat up straight as the bell rang, and she stood up as Damian stepped inside, with Alfred following. 

"Hello, Mr. Pennyworth. It is nice to finally meet you," she said as she bowed before him. 

"It's nice to meet you as well finally, Miss?" 

"Syn, Syn Minamoto Sir. Damian has told me so much about you." 

"All good things, I hope," he said, glancing at Damian as he pulled out their chairs.

"I wasn't aware there were any bad."

"There aren't," Damian said as he sat beside her. 

"He's too kind".

The waitress came, taking their orders before leaving them alone once again. 

"Ms. Minamoto, tell me about yourself?" the integration begins.

"As Damian has told you, we were arranged. My family is similar to the Al Ghul clan in some skills and values, but my family isn't trying to dominate or take over the world. They quite like their position." she quickly corrected herself at the end when she saw the skepticism on his face.

"And do you have the same values as your family?" she looks at Damian for a moment, and nervously wipes her hands on her dress. A green dress that he had picked out for her.

"In my Clan, family, and blood is very important, and I believe the same. My clan is okay with... killing. Blood will spill if it makes things easier or gets the job done. While I am more than able, I consider it the last option. When all else fails, when it is necessary. I know your family doesn't-" 

"I have values different from those of my son. I do not believe that everyone deserves life. Nor am I against taking one."

"Alferd was in the serves before he came to work for the family."

"And I served my queen well," he said with a smile. The waitress came with their order, and they waited until she was gone before continuing their conversation. " What brings you to our city?"

"Damian," she spoke without thinking and then blushed when she realized. Damian blushed as well. "I just wanted to see him, be with him even for a little while. Letters and phone calls aren't always enough. Not that your efforts weren't appreciated, but they very much were." Damian took her hand, squeezed it, and gave her a small smile. Letters were nothing compared to actually hearing each other, and calling was nothing compared to feeling each other. It was rare that they were never in each other's presence. They always treated it as something precious, as it was.

"Don't you two make a handsome couple"

-

Their meeting lasted about two hours before Syn had to depart. She left quickly, promising to stay in communication with both of them.

"Your father isn't going to be happy about this," Alfred said, glancing at Damian from the side. He chose to sit up with him on the way home this time. 

"Did you like her?" he ignores his previous statement. 

"She's lovely-"

"Alfred," he sighs 

"She cares about you. She is kind and has a soft heart but is not weak. She's strong."

"Strong enough to survive our family?" 

"I don't know"

Damian closes his eyes and leans his head back. "I don't care what he thinks or feels. Any of them. I'm not going to let her be ambushed and villainized for a profession I myself took part in at a time, and Red Hood still takes part in. Or affiliations which Red Hood, Red Robin, Cain, and myself have. It's uncalled for and unfair." he says 

"Your father isn't going to like this," Alfred warns 

"Unfortunate for him," Alfred takes a deep breath, " I don't actually care."

"Today's action will have consequences."

"Let them come."

-

[witchqueenvisenya]

this fandom is truly something. on one hand they're hooting and hollering at hotd's "without our dragons, we're just like everyone else" despite that being not true because they have this tiny little thing called dragon dreams and the ability to command dragons (debate about nettles and sheepstealer aside — she was very much a dragonseed IMO). nobody contests that it is only the first men who can have green dreams and really only starks and immediate direwolf approved family that are safe around said direwolves so it is blatant envy and disdain that makes most of this fandom deny the targaryens their own special markers because of course if non targaryens like sansa command dragons it is much safer for the smallfolk amirite? but it is an undeniable hundred percent high septon approved fact that f!aegon will safely sit the iron throne and be accepted by everyone from the riverlands to dorne, despite really being... just like everyone else and actually worse than other leaders around his age bracket in the story. an untested young man who may be descended from the blackfyres who has little patience when he loses a simple game of cyvasse and has soundly rejected any notion of humility in saying that it is daenerys, an already tried and tested conqueror who must bow to him, supposed rhaegar's son aside... yes. this is the man who will bring stability. i know very well that daenerys saw a vision of people cheering on a cloth dragon, but where exactly? her visions in the hotu are sometimes straightforward, but not exact indicators. and while it is possible he manages to take king's landing (not without bloodshed and more tragedy for the smallfolk, a point never really addressed), i don't see anyone doing obeisance to him in the true sense. many nobles, who have seen considerable upheaval in the previous many years would apply a wait and watch strategy, since he doesn't really have a dragon to go and enforce his rule, and cannot exactly take his golden company (who originally meant to declare for daenerys) and go on tour while leaving the city as is. so... targaryens are just like everyone else but young griff is specialer than non targaryen rulers before him. the stablest perfectest boy king to ever grace westeros... hmm.

[mysticmellowlove]

The Cruel Prince - Revelry

a/n; im not gonna lie and say this isn’t based on cardan greenbrair. swear to god you read one book and shit like this happens.

no I'm going back on it now, this is 100% about cardan. please someone give us more cardan content, I'm frothing at the mouth i tell you.

word count; 1594

warnings; asshole men, dom-ish reader, little slight bit of Jude/Reader, gaslight gatekeep girlboss, suggestive content, asshole reader, gn reader, pining obviously

It started with a revel, as nearly all things in Faerie start. The mood was high, there was wine being passed around like candy and small delicacies graced everyone's mouth. For people looking in it was the most magical sight to behold. The cries of blissed-out folk echoed around the hall, gems of all different colours glimmered like stars in the sky.

It was almost like a dream come true...

until I spotted the two non-folk's making their way to the dining table draped in rosemary and basil. An unsettled feeling rested in my stomach, wherever the two of them went trouble followed. I shook my head and tried to let my mind leave their presence but it wasn't quite working.

I was just like the rest of them, or at least I had been to those two. I was a folk, I was an asshole and I definitely didn't particularly care about them. That was until they reminded me of the birds at my parent's estate that would always get fed last as their legs were crippled.

Taryn and Jude were like those birds to me, weak and helpless and always last no matter what. So I decided one day to not glare at them so much, to not whisper under my breath or to entertain the Prince's circle when they tormented the girls.

"Y/n, it feels like it's been ages since we saw you." My head turned from my pondering towards the voice. In front of me, dressed in clothes as grand as the rest of us folk, were the two twins I was just thinking about.

If there was one thing about the two of them that was so suffocatingly unique it was the fact that they were twins, two nearly identical people.

"Having a good time?" I asked them, looking down at my chalice of wine, the green liquid stared right back as if asking me 'why are you still standoffish to them if you technically like them?'

"As good of a time as any." Jude, in her usual scowl, answered me as she took a bite of the green apple in her hands. I watched as the two of them passed the treat to the other, back and forth. At that moment it felt as if nothing could ever tear them apart. I hadn't had the chance to discover someone who made me feel the same way.

It made me a little jealous. Folk relationships were hardly ever like the love mortals had to give. A transaction was all that it was, hardly did anyone find someone who truly loved them. I would be no exception, especially as my family had their eyes set on the varying circles of the royal siblings. Doomed to be with someone viler, older or more dismissive. Such was life.

I heard the bird chatter coming from beside me, gossip that I likely had no interest in. Though I managed to shush them as the Prince and his friends drew closer.

The royal family was beloved, idolised and feared. Even so I knelt like everyone else and bowed my head in respect. In the background, I could hear the revelry continue onwards as they passed by.

Shined boots, encrusted gems, taut buckles.

"Hah, did you think you could blend in? So plain, baseless, a horrific sight really." I could also see what had to be Valerian's boots stopped in front of Jude. I just knew he was doing something unnecessary. Before much else could happen Jude's head was thrown and twisted to the side as my shoulder was roughly grabbed.

I jerked a little but came up without much hassle. Valerian's eyes bore into me as his face was spread with a grimace.

"And you, spending your time around such filth. Your parents wouldn't approve would they?" His words were harsh, his tone perhaps harsher but his tirade didn't last for much longer as Prince Cardan's voice cut through the tension between the two of us.

"Valarian, give in." We both looked over to him, myself taking in the glower that Prince Cardan had. His eyes seemed to put me under some sort of trance, one I pulled myself from quickly. Valarian dropped his hand from my shoulder and went to crowd behind him as the group continued to make their way through the other folk.

However, they stopped a few paces from us, right in front of a small moth boy who had not bowed to Cardan as he passed. I could see in frightening clarity as Cardan's jaw clenched, his hands as well. In a matter of moments, his fist was planted right in the middle of the boy's face. The much smaller boy went flying as Cardan's hand reached out once more.

My mouth pulled into a pained grimace as I watched Cardan tear the boy's wing in half, as if it were nothing but stray paper in the air. The boy ended up on the ground as Cardan's tense face briefly scanned the area around him. Our eyes met for a moment, his onyx ones to mine. They looked as if they were alight, the almost unnoticeable ring of gold around his pupil made it look as if they were.

Then he was gone, lost in the crowd of resuming partiers. I let out a breath of air, imagining that the boy's wings could've easily been mine if I had made a misstep. It was in the past though and if no one was going to comment on it more, which they wouldn't, then neither would I.

Jude's hand rested on the crook of my elbow, hesitantly but somehow strictly as if she was prepared for me to throw her off. I looked at her and noticed for the first time how soft her eyes looked under the light, was she worried or just unnerved?

"I think I'll get some air. You might not have to party too much but it's expected of me." And just like that a certain bitterness came over her. If this were any other situation maybe we might've gotten along better.

I left the two of them to their machinations as I waltzed and swung around the cluttered room. A few of my movements were shared with strangers as I gave in and let them wisp me into their dance ring but eventually I made it out into the clearer air.

The beginning chills of the night washed over me like a well-intentioned blanket, letting me breathe in something that wouldn't make me feel as if I were drifting in the skies. I let my eyes close as I tipped the last of my wine into my mouth, letting the tart taste sit on my tongue before I swallowed.

"Too much for you? I should've expected as much." My eyes opened belatedly as I realised who was in front of me. Cardan looked down, his face all sharp edges and darkened angles. I cocked my head in a small resemblance of a bow as I looked for somewhere to sit my chalice down.

"Not particularly my prince, I'm just making sure I can dance all night. As should be." I murmured, he hadn't particularly approached me often. He had no reason to. If he hated Jude and Taryn he only vaguely disliked me.

"Aren't you ever the boring one. Are you not ashamed that you're the weakest in our class besides those bumbling fools." There was a sneer on his face, though it did nothing to make me hate him any more. Cardan was... like poison. Bad for you but also somehow magnetic, just one sip would be enough to quell someone's thirst and yet they may as well be dead.

"It's not my intention." The conversation was going nowhere, in fact, I had no idea why he had even approached me at all. He was likely looking for a fight, to sink his fingers into someone weaker than him.

I tried to move past him, as long as I got back into the revelry I might be hidden from his nitpicking sight. However, he stopped me, grabbing my arms and drawing me right back to being in front of him. My hand feigned to drop the chalice but I managed to catch it just in time.

I was sure that confusion was spilled across my face now but it seemed to deter him no less. For a few moments we simply stood in the company of each other, his hands present and tight on my arms. I drew in a breath, my chest just barely brushing against his. As his eyes dipped down to rationalise the fleeting touch he had felt I brought my hand up to his cheek.

While he looked steely there was a softness to him. My fingers sunk into his skin deliciously, as if they were made to be there.

"I must excuse myself my prince. The night calls." I gave him a placating smile and tore myself from his grasp, finding my way into the fray of folk moving back and forth like a wave. For the rest of the night I was under the impression that I had left him behind.

Though as I left I could've sworn I had seen his feathered suit coat out of the corner of my eye.

[ajaxslibrary]

Foolish One - Gojo Satoru x Reader

a/n: this little piece popped into my head listening to Taylor Swift, and each bit is themed after the lyric that prefaces it

-

My cards are on the table, yours are in your hand

I've long given up hiding my affections for Satoru. Most people don't recognise my reactions and the ones that do won't be fooled by my faking. So, I give up.

I cut my eyes from my book to him when he walks in the room. I tilt my head when he speaks. I set aside what I'm working on when he tries for my attention.

Satoru though treats me the same as everyone else. Carefully guarded, a jokester, a tease.

Chances are tonight you've already got plans, and chances are I will talk myself to sleep again

Of course, Satoru is going out drinking with some of our co-workers. I should've known.

It's okay. At least I have my own company. That's all I'll ever truly need. Bound to always have only my own words, thoughts, and company. I've gotten used to it.

I'm okay on my own.

That's what I tell myself at least.

You give me just enough attention to keep my hopes too high

"(y/n)-san! Oi~! Wanna try this mochi? I got it from the new place in Shibuya!" Satoru jogs to catch up with me on my walk to the train station. "It's matcha with red bean filling."

"I- yeah, sure. I like mochi."

An understatement. Mochi is my favourite sweet. Satoru knows that. He never offers me anything else. Unless he takes me to ramen for a meeting.

He holds out a piece of mochi for me and I take it tentatively. I love mochi, I love red bean paste, but... I don't like matcha. I take a small bite.

"This isn't matcha."

"Is it not?"

I can tell from the small smirk that Satoru already knew. It was just sweet red bean mochi, my favourite, dyed a matcha green.

I can't help the way my heart starts to beat a little faster in my chest.

"Is it good? Is it good? I haven't tried it yet, does it have the mochi master seal of approval?"

I feel heat rise to my cheeks at the thought he wanted to know what I thought of the mochi before trying it himself.

"It's good. The last place was better, but this is really good."

"Score! Thanks, (y/n)-san!"

And the voices say "You are not the exception, you will never learn your lesson"

A little box is waiting on my desk. Tied up with a pretty bow, the tag of my favourite sweet shop on one of the tails. My heart starts pounding when I hear my phone go off with Satoru's text tone.

'You like your present?'

A giddy smile crosses my lips and I race to open the box. Three red bean mochi and three sesame mochi. He knows me too well.

I whip out my phone and type up a quick response, thanking God that the racing of my heart and the happiness overflowing from it can't carry over text.

'Yeah, thanks'

I know he doesn't love me the way I want him to. He's the strongest, surely he's above love.

But oh, I can hope.

Foolish one stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love that ain't never gonna come

It's a dance we do every day. I check my email, half-hoping to see a beautiful, melodramatic, wonderful love confession from Satoru, he swings by my office to say hi, I try to keep my caged heart from escaping through my throat as he smiles at me.

And oh what a smile.

It's a dance we do every day. I've long memorised its steps.

Because every day my half-hopes are disappointed. Every day he says hi and gives me a beautiful smile that makes my heart beat faster. And every day it takes everything in me to not profess my undying love to Gojo Satoru.

Don't know what to call this situation but I know I can't call you mine

I take a deep breath as the weight of Satoru almost presses into me. Contact undoubtedly prevented by infinity. I glance over to look at him and he grins.

"What are you working on?"

Satoru is draped over me, his lips right next to my ear. I'm hyper-aware of him now.

"Um, I'm working on, ah, working on a lesson plan for one of my students."

Satoru shifts as I talk so one arm is dropped down the front of my torso.

"(y/n)-san," I can hear the frown in Satoru's voice when he says my name. "Do you not trust me?"

I do. I trust you with my life. That frightens me.

"I trust you." Completely. Utterly. Wholly. Entirely. I trust you.

"Why did you get so tense the moment you knew I was here?"

I hadn't noticed. But I know why.

"Because if I let go then I will break. I will not be a burden."

He does not need to know how I love him. I know. And that is enough. That must be enough.

'Cause when my head is on your shoulder it starts thinkin' you'll come around

I lean my head onto Satoru's shoulder on the train. Well, almost. He laughs at me.

"Tired?"

I don't give a proper answer, just a quiet mumble. Then I feel a tingly warmth cover my body, and my face makes contact with soft, warm fabric.

"Sleep well."

I think I say thank you. It must have sounded strange, because Satoru chuckles before responding softly.

"You're welcome. Now rest, I can protect us both."

You will learn the hard way instead of just walking out

The dance stops abruptly. Satoru doesn't swing by my office to say hi. And he doesn't smile at me when we pass in the hall.

There's mochi on my desk though. From the new place in Shibuya. I take a tentative bite of one, and it's matcha with red bean filling. Maybe last time was an accident.

I can't stand matcha.

Satoru knows that.

When my phone goes off with his text tone, I glance down, ignoring the warning beats of my heart like an ominous drum.

'I'm sorry'

Oh you haven't written me or called but goodbye's screamin' in the silence

I break as soon as I'm home. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to vomit. I want to cut my hair off. But more than anything else.

I want to die.

There aren't many things I hate in this world.

I hate matcha. I hate failing. I hate watching a student ignore my teachings. I hate feeling disregarded. I hate when people go back on their word.

But more than anything else, I hate goodbyes without words.

And there are many things I love in this world that cannot love me in return.

I love sweet red bean paste. I love mochi. I love ramen. I love pocky. I love coffee. I love seeing someone progress. I love being protected. I love protecting others.

And more than I love anything else, unfailingly, unswervingly, unconditionally.

I love Gojo Satoru.

[iamaburnedgiftedartkid]

Not Even a Little Bit

Chapter 1

Hello! This is my second fic and I'm not too sure about the directions or tags yet. I hope you enjoy none the less.

Warnings - Mentions of Mild Physical Violence and Sexual Harassment

Warnings - Mentions of Mild Physical Violence and Sexual Harassment 

Another day at Stark Adult Entertainment Industry where you are a social media manager. Doing anything from posting goofy outtakes from shoots to redesigning the main website to be less ‘70’s porn site’. 

You are in one of your favorite skirts, a black high waisted, mini, skater style skirt with built in shorts. Along with a black and dark green button down with a sheer panel in the back with black stockings and black ankle strap platform heels. 

Going door to door dropping off promotional rough drafts and possible dates that are available for promotional shoots. You also require that all social media content that you create be approved by the people who are in them. So you email them the video and require written approval. Even if everyone says it's fine because it’s normally just something breaking on set or a laughing fit during a scene. You still do just to make sure everyone is comfortable. 

About halfway through dropping off paperwork you hear someone approach you, “Hey sexy”. You are absolutely. Undoubtedly. Uninterested., “No” is all you say, not even bothering to look at the egotistical douche that is John Walker. He takes a step closer to you, creep, “Oh come on. You know you wanna do a private shoot with me.” He runs his fingers up your back where the sheer panel is, gross. You turn to face him and take a step back, so he stops touching you. “Not even a little bit dude.” The look on his face is priceless, he looks like he’s never had a girl call him dude when he’s  trying to hit on them. It takes all your willpower not to break out laughing. 

You make your way to the next door and begin pulling papers and putting them into the mail slot when John finally recovers. He approaches you again, getting even closer. “You’ve seen my videos, you know what I can do for you.” He says sliding his hand down to the top of your skirt, causing an uncomfortable shiver. You steady yourself, turn to him still trying to be mildly polite, “Nope I’ve never seen any of your work or anyone else’s here.” You sound as bored as this whole conversation is making you. 

He looks genuinely confused, “But you do all the media work?” He says while tilting his head at you, “Yes I do but I only look at the outtakes. I don’t watch the whole film.” You couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at your lips at the thought of some of those outtakes, Steve accidentally missing the bed when tossing Bucky resulting in him just dropping to the ground, or the time Nat’s heel broke and she went from badass dominatix to a newborn giraffe.

When you come back from memory lane you see John’s face completely blank so you turn to go back to work when he grabs your arm. “Stop playing hard to get, your tell me you’re walking around in this,” he reaches for the edge of your skirt with his other hand, “and don’t wanna get fucked across a desk?” You held your rage back even if it was warranted. Honestly who the hell does this asshole think he is. You leaned in venom dripping from your words, “I said ‘No’ and seeing as we work in an industry where consent is a founding principal maybe you should go educate yourself on the fact that someone not saying yes means no, someone saying no means no, and someone giving you every chance to fuck off as politely as possible is also a N.O.” 

John grabs your arm tighter and you wince, fucking prick, “That’s fine you don’t wanna fuck I’ll just get you fired.” He finishes with a smile a fucking smile. You look him right in his face and smile, “Then do it.” The shock at your words ripples across his face, “Your mistake was assuming I need this job. Unfortunately for you I don't. So do it.” You finished laughing in his face. 

He yanks you toward him, “Listen here you little bit-“, “Walker! What the hell are you doing!?” John looked like he had just seen a ghost at the sound of Steve’s voice. Steve approaches quickly and you pull your arm out of John’s grasp. Steve immediately gets in between the two of you forcing John to move back. “What the hell just happened?” Steve growls at John, who’s still pale. “Nothing” you interject. Steve’s head whips around so fast you're surprised it didn’t snap, “I left some consent for content in your mail slot as well as some promotional rough drafts for you to look over, just bring them to me when you’ve had a chance to look at them.” You give him a smile. “Ye-yeah I’ll do that is that all?” He looks at you with confusion. You could handle this, you're sure John learned his lesson, hopefully this will put an end to anymore harassment. “Yes that’s all. On that note I’ll be off. See you later Mr.Rogers,” you roll your eyes to John, “Walker.” Turning on your heels and going back to work. 

Steve watches you walk away like nothing happened. He saw that John was holding you and he heard the end of that conversation. Steve turns back to John who has gained some of his composure back, “What the hell was that?” Steve asks John, blocking you from view. “You heard her, nothing.” John says with this cocky look on his face, Steve took a step toward John glaring at him causing John’s exterior to crack, “I don’t give a damn what she said I saw and heard you, I’m giving you a warning. Leave her alone.” John just rolls his eyes causing Steve to step right up too John leaning down to be directly in his face, “I know for a fact you have fucked around with other girls that work here. This is the only warning you're getting. Understood?” Steve didn’t let up his glare. John couldn’t meet his gaze, just white knuckle clenched his fists and nodded. “Good” Steve said, turning around walking back the way you headed and turned the hall. John stayed standing there until Steve was out of sight then swung and hit the wall, walking off muttering under his breath.

[lenreli]

Day 3 - 50 Shades But Good [Human AU]

[AO3]

Hob breathes ― or tries to, with Dream’s mouth on him, tasting mint as they kiss ― in Dream’s office, and Hob’s head spins, the release of tension good, but Dream’s still his boss and this is entirely new territory. “Hob,” Dream breathes, delicate hands fiddling with his tie as Dream stares at him through long lashes, “there’s something you should know.” 

And Hob’s stomach is suddenly many miles down, “if this is going into that direction of that movie which all straight people are obsessed with and say it’s just kinky love but it’s fucking abuse because they don’t know how BDSM works I―“

“No!” Dream scowls, tugging on his tie, and Dream sighs, relaxing against the table for a moment, and then there’s a hand pulling him to a nearby black sofa, and Dream’s hands are cold. “To begin with, I’m a sub,” Dream says dryly, and Hob gapes. 

“Oh. That―oh,” Hob can feel his face heat, staring down at their joined hands, his thumbs rubbing circles into Dream’s hands, feeling them warm up under his own. 

“And you, my PA,” Dream purrs, a hand coming up to his jaw, nails scratching through his stubble, “don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you enjoy bossing me around, scolding me whenever I do something you don’t approve of, unwilling to treat me like everyone else, who are either scared of me or my power,” Dream raises an eyebrow and Hob’s stomach squirms, erection coming back with Dream’s smooth words. 

“I, well,” he flounders, hands twitching slowly to Dream’s hips, unsure if Dream would allow it, even though Dream hums, pressing closer onto him.

“Why even think of that when I’m right here, willing to do anything you ask?” Dream purrs into his ear, and Hob squeaks as Dream sits on his lap.

“You―“ he stops, voice high and he swallows, “that, um. Definitely not thinking of that,” he rasps, and Dream’s answering sound is skeptical, and Hob moans as Dream grinds down, hard cock pressing up to Dream’s arse and his mind swims, pleasure sparking throughout.

“Well?” Dream whispers, biting his earlobe. 

“Traffic lights?” He squeaks out, and Dream hums in approval this time, a nod against his head and Hob swallows, tugging Dream in by his lapels for a kiss, chaste and then deep as he takes Dream by the waist, pushing him onto the sofa, and Dream moans, arching into him. “Hands,” he scratches out, and Dream’s eyes are dilated as they stare up at him, hands placed together in front of him quickly, and Hob puts them on the sofa arm, “there. Colour?” 

Dream relaxes under him, stretching out and getting comfortable, “green,” Dream says with a smirk. 

“We should ― talk about this,” he says, his own hands trailing up Dream’s sides, going in to undo the buttons of Dream’s suit and shirt.

“Consider this a test run,” Dream breathes, lips puffy and so pink that Hob has to lean down to bite them.

[ninapi]

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●

Save me (Ushijima Version)

Premise: Ushijima struggles to understand the concept of love and what is expected of him in said equation, but he finds himself in the predicament of wanting nothing more than to be with the woman he loves even if it gets in the way of his established lifestyle.

Word Count: 3297

Chapter 2: Summer heat

Summer was approaching fast, the weather was warmer than it had been for the longest time, the grass in it’s prime as green as it can be, the birds danced happily in the air at the promise of the rainy season now in proximity.

The spring tournament was about to end, and the volleyball team was high in spirits as they managed to reach the finals.

Their club was the one to receive a bigger budget out of the entire school, they were one of the reasons the school was so popular to begin with, so in preparation for the finals and as a reward of some sort, they scored some extra budget for a weekend training camp.

The teacher in charge suggested some beach volleyball, it is harder on your body, and it should help them with muscle building, it was a great time to go to the beach, it wasn’t as hot outside just yet, so they should be able to train on the sand all day.

Washijou was against it, one of his family members was marrying that same weekend and he would prefer to stay closer to the city so he could attend both, but the teacher had already booked an inn for the entire team and the budget was no more.

They were in troubles, the teacher could go with them and surely the team knows what they need to work in individually, they could always ask Ushijima if they needed advice, but what about the rest of things that needed to be done? Their coach is so strict that he only allows one male manager and he doesn’t even allow him in the gym every day, he’s only called when needed, but because of this, he belongs to the astronomy club as well and they were participating in an event of their own the same day, unlike the volleyball team, there he is absolutely necessary and they can’t allow him not being there for the event.

That’s when Shirabu out of all of them, surprised the team with an idea. “How about my class president? She knows what she’s doing, she’s the one in charge of everything related to the events in our class, and all of you seem to like her. Maybe she can go with us?”

Ushijima, who was tying up his shoelaces, got up immediately, giving a deep nod of approval.

“I’ll talk to her, I guess.” Semi got up, heaving a deep sigh. Is not like he didn’t want you to tag along but he was pretty sure you’d be more of a distraction than anything else.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You were on your way to the library; you didn’t want to leave your summer break homework till the very end and thought of getting the books you needed out before someone else borrowed them first. That’s when you heard Semi calling out for you.

“Oh hey, Eita. What’s up?” he was panting heavily, trying to catch his breath. He’s been looking for you all over the school, exhausting all possible locations and found you just before he was about to give up, like if phones weren’t a thing.

“Do you have anything to do next weekend?” it sounded off to you, like if he was asking you out on a date and it made you cover your reddish face in panic, “W-w-why??” realizing what he just did, he tried his best to correct himself, trying to subside his embarrassment, “The team, we got a weekend training camp on the beach area, the teacher needed us to find someone who could help us. Shirabu said you’d be the best option and everyone agreed you’d be a good idea. If you have time of course.”

You were still unsure of going out of the school in general, but you’ve been practicing with Eita, and this sounded like a fun way of spending the weekend. You would also have some extra time to spend with Ushijima who had been really busy the past few weeks and you haven’t gotten the chance to see him as much as you would have liked.

“I mean, yeah why not. Is it like both days or?”

“Yeah, the teacher already booked an entire inn for the team, I’m sure you’ll have your own room. Nothing to worry about.” that was honestly the last of your worries. Your parents were now in a European tour and all your clothing was left behind in your house. Thankfully, you don’t spend much money living in the school grounds, so you could just order something online and it should arrive on time.

“Sure, then just text me the details when you get them, and I’ll go with you guys.”

The guys were overly excited with the news, specially certain captain who for some reason found a splinter on the bench very interesting. Was he excited? He couldn’t describe what he was feeling, it hasn’t happened before. He’s been a bit grumpy the last few days, or that’s what his teammates said, he didn’t really understand what they were basing on to get to that conclusion, but it was a fact that he kept on wishing he could see you. He wondered if you had eaten something for dinner or if you had a good sleep last night, he wondered if you also felt this strange need of seeing him or if it was just him and his recent incapability to control his own body.

But knowing you would be there during the weekend was comforting, he felt like he could train the entire week without any sort of discomfort, knowing he would get to see you in a few days.

Goshiki let out a loud shriek, getting everyone’s attention. Ushijima’s face was twitching in the strangest of ways while plucking the damn splinter out of the bench, the scene itself could be used as source material for a horror film.

Little did they know, his heart was actually smiling.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Going to the beach required many preparations, making you regret your decision of not bringing cute clothing to school with you.

Did you need a swimsuit? You probably did, even if you were there just to support the team, it would be weird having a bunch of shirtless guys playing volleyball around you and be wearing fluffy lounge clothing on the sand.

So you ended up ordering a couple of summery outfits and a two piece swimsuit, the bottom being a cute ruffled skirt.

You also decided to bake some cookies for the ride, this time you made sure to make enough for the entire team and the teacher, he was driving you there and was very nice of him to make sure you would have all you needed as the only girl of the group.

The school bus was unnecessarily big, everyone could have their own seat to themselves if they wanted to, but Ushijima wanted to sit beside you. Even Tendo was surprised by this.

“Toshi-san! Why does it feel like I haven’t seen your face in forever? Come here, let me see you.” you chuckled, and he complied, letting you check every inch of his face, his hands and even his jacket pockets.

There was such a peaceful aura around Ushijima whenever you were around. It’s like if he was a different person, even if he still didn’t talk much.

“(Y/N), you smell like cookies." he’s becoming spoiled and you’re 100% responsible for this. “Yes, I baked some! Here’s your share.” you set his bag on one of his big hands, calling the rest of the guys to come and retrieve their own bag full of treats.

“I know you don’t like me, but isn’t Ushijima-san’s bag way bigger than mine? I’m your classmate!”

Everyone’s bag was smaller, not just Shirabu’s. Even Semi got a smaller share. “He’s bigger than all of you combined. Don’t be a pain, or I’ll give him your share too.” Ushijima was quietly chewing on one of your delicious goodness, he didn’t have anything to say really, he was bigger, that was a fact, but he somehow wished that wasn’t the only reason why his bag was fuller than the rest.

The ride wasn’t long, but you woke up before sunrise to have the cookies ready for the team and before anyone could notice you were dozing off on Ushijima’s shoulder. He could feel the soft puffs of air you were releasing on his arm, your neck straining in an odd position. He shimmied himself down a bit as gently as he could not to wake you up, so you could rest comfortably on him.

If he closed his eyes hard enough, he could feel your heartbeat pressed against his arm, and it was magical, everything in life was so much better when you were there by his side, even the littlest of things like a bus ride could create a core memory for him.

“Toshi-san…those aren’t cookies…don’t eat them…” even in your sleep, you’re the sweetest creature he’s ever seen. “I won’t eat them, don’t worry.” he whispered close to your ear, making you grin in your sleep and nuzzled his arm.

If he could live repeating one moment over and over again in a loop for the rest of eternity, it would be this very moment.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The guys had been practicing all morning and lunch time was approaching. The teacher gave you some money so you could go buy ingredients and prepare sandwiches for everyone.

They haven’t seen you since then, you went to the store then spent over an hour making sandwiches for the army of hungry teenagers baking in the early summer sun. So when you arrived with the basket full of food and drinks, a wave of silence fell on the beach.

Ushijima’s eyes were so widely opened, bugs could nest there if they wanted.

You braided your hair and got a lightweight cardigan over your swimsuit, but it was pretty much all out on display for the raging hormones of more than one to perv around.

It wasn’t revealing, just a regular swimsuit, you were actually the only girl in the beach right now that wasn’t showing her assets in abundance, but they’ve never seen you in anything other than your school uniform, except for Semi, but even him was having troubles concentrating now.

“Hey guys! Lunch is here!” you called out for them, and they all walked over to you, to anyone else looking, it was a scene out of a zombie movie, the way they walked mumbling incoherent stuff, their bulging eyes, unconsciously drooling over you. But in your eyes, it was a beautiful summer day to hang out with the boys.

“Here’s your sandwich, Toshi-san. Don’t tell anybody but yours has an extra slide of chicken breast.” you whispered closely, winking at him and you were expecting him to take the sandwich you were holding out for him, but his hands had a very different plan. He grabbed you by your cardigan, bringing you closer to him so he could close it up entirely, button by button, this making you blink in confusion. “What’s wrong? Do I…look that bad?”

He shook his head, not being able to find the right words, he didn’t even know why he did what he did. Is not like he didn’t want to see you in your swimsuit, it was more like he didn’t want the rest of the guys to see it. But why? You’re your own person, you can do whatever you want. He had no right to do this, what if you get mad at him? That was a stupid move. He was beating himself over his own actions when he heard you laugh, one of your hands came over to cup his cheek, caressing it gently, “You’re being extra cute today, huh? My heart was not ready for that!” you handed him his sandwich and continued handing out the remaining contents of your basket, never unbuttoning back open your sweater.

He didn’t know what just happened, but it felt similar to when he wins a match.

“Cute? She said you were cute? Wow, I always knew she was a little weird but maybe it’s just that she sees things differently.” his friend was nibbling on his own sandwich, sneaking glances to watch over your interactions with the rest of the team.

“So how does it feel not wanting other men to stare at your woman’s boobies?” using his sandwich as a fake mic, he went straight into business. “I did no such thing.” “Oh my dear Wakatoshi-kun. Then why do you think you closed her sweater shut on this awfully hot day? You weren’t concerned for her catching a cold, were you?”

Why did he do it? It was still a mystery to him. What was even more confusing was why did you laugh it off? Shouldn’t you be upset? He wouldn’t want someone touching him so carelessly, he was expecting you to slap him on the face, not gaze at him lovingly.

“I’m not sure, my hands moved on their own.” life had funny ways of trying to teach him a lesson, he had it all there for him to act, his body was a faster learner, but he still needed to catch up to it mentally and emotionally.  “She looks way too pretty today; you didn’t want them to eat out of your eye candy. Instead of sulking you should tell her how pretty she looks, before someone else does.” Tendo caught a stray look from a group of unknown girls hanging out under a parasol and so he left his troubled friend to confront life on his own while he tried to score a phone number or two.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Time goes by fast when you are having fun.

The first day of the training camp was almost over, the stars gifting you the most beautiful night for all of you to enjoy.

The teacher made arrangements for the workers from the inn you were staying at to take care of your dinner arrangements, offering you a lovely and most importantly, very much nutritional meal.

The boys were turning in for the night early, they still had to get up at four in the morning for their team run and had to train all morning, the bus wouldn’t leave until noon.

But since you didn’t have to, you wanted to enjoy the trip a bit more, you haven’t been to the beach in years and just breathing in the salty heavily humid air was filling your heart with excitement.

Grabbing a small pouch from your bag you were ready to sneak from the back of your room back into the beach. It was the perfect timing to hunt for seashells, sunburns aren’t fun to deal with after all.

Ushijima had been pacing in front of your room for the past 45 minutes, trying to come up with an excuse to talk to you and somehow convey the message his friend recommended. So, it isn’t surprising that he heard you sneaking through the balcony. He thought someone was breaking into your room, so without thinking, or knocking, he opened the door to your room and headed in like it was his own house. Your leg was still hanging from the rail and his outburst made you fall to the ground startled.

The confused face he was making made you burst out laughing, this man has the worse timing ever, it’s hilarious.

“Yes, Toshi-san? Did you need me for something?” he was trying to analyze the situation, you looked fine, definitely there was no robbery going on in the premise, were you running away at night?

“I wanted to talk to you about this afternoon. If this isn’t a good time I can come back later-“he was about to leave when you stopped him, calling after him, “It’s ok, I was just going seashell hunting. Would you like to come with me?” Seashell hunting? How do you hunt seashells? Aren’t they like dead already? His confused self just nodded and instead of going out through the door, like a normal human being, he decided to follow your steps, climbing over the railing, causing you to giggle.

There was not even a single cloud in the sky, the full moon so high and bright, there was no need for lanterns.

You walked side by side in a comfortable silence, breathing in the peaceful night until you found a promising patch of sand. You sat close to it and Ushijima followed your lead, both of you digging into the sand with tiny sticks, fully equipped for tonight’s quest.

“So, what was it you needed to talk to me about, Toshi-san?” he took a deep breath, looking up at the moon, “I’m sorry I grabbed you like that this afternoon. You looked too pretty, I was afraid the other guys would also see it.”

You’ve never blushed with this intensity before, and you were suddenly glad you decided to come at night. The summer heat would be the one to blame if someone asked.

“Y-you don’t need to apologize for that. I thought it was cute.” you mumbled quietly, poking the sand some more. “You always say I’m cute.” he questioned you genuinely, the definition of cute he has in his head was very different to what he sees in a mirror when he looks at himself. “That’s because you are, cute.” your eyes twinkled in the dark, the stars wouldn’t rival the beauty of your eyes, not even tonight when the stars shine so bright. “Does it bother you? That other guys see me in a swimsuit?” he was hesitant to answer that question, he was now sure that it did bother him, but he still didn’t know why. “It was not my place to do what I did, for that I apologize. I’m sure your afternoon wasn’t as enjoyable due to the heat.”

“It was enjoyable. I didn’t mind it. Did I make you uncomfortable? Maybe I should have chosen a less revealing outfit.” he made you feel bad, that’s the one thing he was supposed not to do tonight, it’s so hard to get your thoughts across to other people, “You never make me uncomfortable. I just didn’t like the look in their eyes.”

“Were you…jealous, Toshi?” you held onto his elbow, the lack of honorifics causing him to forget he needed to breathe. “According to Tendo, yes. I still don’t understand the feeling very well, never happened before.”

You need some level of patience with a man like him, even if all you wanted was to tackle him on the sand and kiss his very essence, you would wait for him as long as it took. Instead, you laid your head on his muscly arm, taking a deep breath as you searched for his hand. It was so large, pretty much doubled the size of yours. “Is it…ok if I hold your hand?” looking at both of your hands, he just hummed in acknowledgement, wrapping his hand around yours.

You stayed there in silence, holding hands, until it was time for you to return to the inn.

Summer was only about to begin, and it already held a special place in both of your hearts.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The day before the big game, right when classes were over, the door from your class burst open, showing a very exalted Ushijima looking for you.

“(Y/N), I found him. The setter you were looking for, Kageyama. He’s playing against us tomorrow.”

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Tagged babes: @dazaisfavgf @lauraagrace

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[oscurascout]

Y/N As A Doorman

From That's Not My Neighbor game

Note - The D.D.D agent will be a sort of OC like he will just be there for the fun of the story but won't be that important (unless people want, ... I finally discover the read more thing, 😅).

Part 5 (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10)

A whole week has passed since the Hoon incident, and the D.D.D still hasn't returned him, which has been making me, not only angry but to also overthink. I also tried to find the doppelgänger who hurt him, yet it's easier said than done. After all, I can't just go ahead and ask them. Instead, I just said 'Hoon', and I got a lot of reactions from every doppelgänger; everyone reacted in anger. I also acquired a weapon, a taser, which my father had bought for me while I was still working.

Today, I was at work, the same old routine. At this point, I didn't even need to check the ID or folders because now I knew everything like the back of my hand, though I still checked if I had my suspicions.

I let Mr. Gauss in before he tried to flirt with me. After my first week, he started to flirt with me, but as a joke, or at least I hope it's a joke. I was about to look at my phone when I saw someone else come in; it was a D.D.D agent. “What can I do for you?” I asked a bit annoyed.

D.D.D Agent - “I see you are still angry at us *chuckles*. Don't worry, your friend will be released tomorrow.”

“Really!?” I asked, surprised that they had actually listened to my requests and pleas. “He must be a high-ranking person for the D.D.D to want to release Hoon,” I thought as I tried to figure out what they were truly aiming for.

D.D.D Agent - “We are going to leave him at your home, but there is a catch.”

I looked at him angrily, “Ugh, what is it now?” I asked, very angry.

D.D.D Agent - “First, let me in, please.”

I groaned and pressed the green button; they entered and got into the office.

D.D.D Agent - *chuckles* “Okay, the second thing to say is that he is going to have to stay with you. After all, there is a very high probability that he was exiled from the group. Every time you called us to get rid of the doppelgängers, they would all scream for your friend and scream at us to 'kill the traitor.' Obviously, they all got wiped out, but it did lead us to believe that he was exiled from the doppelgängers. Therefore, he cannot return to them, or something worse will happen to him, which led us to decide that you'll become his guardian.”

“What do you think was the cause?” I asked, looking at the floor.

D.D.D Agent - “That is a possibility, but we think, it was a problem caused between him and his kind, since we did find more injuries from some time ago, showing that he probably fought against them. These are all theories, so don't overthink it.”

“Well, anything else?” I asked, somehow knowing that he was leaving something out.

D.D.D Agent - “We would like to get both yours and his approval to observe him. We already have his approval; we only need yours.”

“Observe him?” I asked, confused and annoyed at them.

D.D.D Agent - “Yes, even though he has been exiled, he is still a doppelgänger, which could help us in our research. As you know, ever since these creatures appeared, we haven't truly gathered useful information or any important information for that matter. Therefore, with your friend's help, we may come to know these creatures more and maybe, someday, truly make the world safe again. And don't worry, we'll make sure to keep him safe.”

I thought about it; it was actually a very good thing. Hoon would be safe, and they would get their research. “What type of observation will you be making?” I asked, just to be sure.

D.D.D Agent - “Well, we were thinking about normal stuff—what they eat besides humans, what they like, or just anything that he shows us, even if it is his personal opinion on things. It could still help us.”

“Alright, then when are you going to bring him home?” I asked in case I'll have to leave work early.

D.D.D Agent - “Don't worry, I'll bring him to your home and stay with him while you work.”

“Huh? Wait, what?” I asked, perplexed.

D.D.D Agent - “Yes, this is a protocol measure in which any D.D.D agent has to be there with you to protect you, in case your friend turns aggressive, and also because of the observation matter.”

“So, you'll live with me?” I asked, even more perplexed.

D.D.D Agent - *with happiness in his voice* “Yes!”

“No,” I said quickly.

D.D.D Agent - “What!? But you need someone to protect you.”

“I can do that myself,” I said without hesitation.

D.D.D Agent - “Then what about the observation?”

“I can also do that. Actually, I think Hoon would prefer me over you watching him,” I said. They seemed unable to argue with me any further. I sighed, “Why do you insist so much on living with us?” I asked, confused.

D.D.D Agent - “Well, because I've always found doppelgängers interesting. That was the whole reason why I joined the D.D.D—to be able to see them up close and see how they truly are. Yet, the sad reality is that I'm never sent to deal with them. I only get to briefly see them while I have to do a ton of paperwork.”

I thought about it. I didn't think Hoon would ever attack me, but that wouldn't be the same for all the others who were after Hoon. “Okay, you can stay with me, but you will have to pay me in some way,” I said with a smirk.

D.D.D Agent - *surprised* “Huh?”

“What did you think? That you could live with me and not do anything? Well, nope. If you want to stay, then you will either pay rent or do house chores,” I said, smiling. Even with the mask, I could feel them overthinking their life decisions. “So this is the power that parents feel,” I thought as they began to mutter to themselves.