#sometimes I can just look away and move on. but sometimes when. let's say I stumble on a blog

[nonranghaes]

"wonwoo?" your voice is so soft now it instantly catches his attention, and he's already pausing his game. "sorry. this is stupid, but..."

it's one of those nights. he can see is plain as day on your face and in the way you fidget with your own sleeves. he can hear your sniffles and see the way you try to subtly wipe away tears. loving you is the easiest thing in the world for him to do, but he knows that sometimes it can be hard for you to accept it.

"can i... can you," you swallow hard, taking a breath and calming yourself down further. "can you just... hold me for a minute?"

he's already making space for you, saying a quick "of course," as he moves to welcome you into his embrace. he's not surprised when you move so that your ear is pressed against his clothed chest, the thin fabric of his t-shirt not enough to muffle his heartbeat. he wraps his arms around you, controller loosely held in one hand as he waits for you to settle completely.

"do you want to talk?" he says after a moment. you shake your head, and he lets the topic go: if you change your mind, you'll say it.

so he just presses a kiss onto the top of your head, and holds you while resuming his game for now. through your teary eyes, you just watch the screen, arms wrapped around him as you snuggle in a little closer.

"wonwoo?" your voice is still so soft. he looks down, and you just squeeze him as best as you can in this position. "i love you."

wonwoo just draws you in a little so that he can kiss your forehead, one arm staying secured around you. "i love you, too."

[thesquishyfish]

As someone that’s starting to lose mobility, I have been paying more attention to accessibility for disabilities and how it must be getting around in a chair or on crutches. There’s so much stuff I didn’t pick up on until I started thinking about how it might personally affect me in the future. Broken elevators, no ramps up onto curbs, having to buzz in and wait for an employee to let you into buildings other people just walk straight into, ramps that in my inexperienced opinion look damn near impossible to climb in a chair, and of course sidewalks and the like that are terribly uneven from the ground settling.

But also the social aspect of it! I’ve watched people grab people’s chair handles and move them without asking! That feels like the equivalent of shoving someone out of your way and is horribly disrespectful and rude but nobody throws the same fit about it that they would if someone was going around pushing and shoving standing people in a store. Sometimes people will grab and move peoples’ canes crutches, or walkers without asking or even saying anything and that could be so dangerous and why does nobody care? I can even imagine being in a power chair and trying to exist in the world independently with how I’ve seen some people be treated.

I’d like to believe that I can get better and keep walking, but if I can’t I would also like to believe that I can still be treated with respect and equality. I’d encourage anyone who isn’t physically disabled to imagine for a second being in a wheelchair or needing a cane when you’re out doing something mundane and you’ll notice just how difficult things are, sometimes for no reason.

Kinda went on a rant there but it’s something I think about a lot these days. This isn’t a reason you should care, honestly you should care about everyone, but everyone is one bad accident or cancerous cell or underlying medical condition away from being disabled, and if you can’t care about others you can at least think about the world you might be making for yourself. That’s what it took for me to start really noticing.

If you use wheelchair users as an example of the default "person who gets automatically accommodated and treated with empathy and respect" then I'm going to hunt you for sport.

A lot of wheelchair users end up needing to make a whole new group of friends when they start using wheelchairs because suddenly you're viewed as captain buzzkill when you don't want to be carried up and down the stairs by people you KNOW don't lift.

[blondieeu]

easy lovers. yuji i.

yuji itadori who waits for you. he waits because he knows if he doesn't, he'd ruin everything.

yuji itadori waits for you out of respect for your relationship, because he listens when you tell him you seriously want to be with this guy - even if he knows that douche isn't the one, and he is.

yuji itadori admires you from a distance, just far enough that you don't notice how much you take his breath away. though, he's still close enough to relish in your beauty. you shined like the moon and didn't even realize it.

yuji itadori doesn't only see your beauty on the outside. every single day. even in the small moments when he gets a chance to be around you - he can see the beauty in your kindness and the way you act within the world. you were his universe.

sometimes, he wonders if he's making the right call. if he'd been too patient, or too kind with his heart. but every time he thinks about making a move, he just remembers what you said—how bad you wanted it to be that damned guy. he couldn't bare to be the reason you regret picking someone else, let alone him.

At times, he wonders if he should move on, and find a girlfriend of his own. it wouldn't be hard, he wasn't unattractive or anything - but it'd be even worse to make someone who loves him feel like they're the second choice because he knows he'll always end up picking you instead.

yuji itadori tries not to think of it, or even let it show, but sometimes when you look at him and talk about your boyfriend, it feels like someones squeezing all the air from his lungs, forcing him to breathe manually—in. out. in. out. in. in. in. Over and over. Until the weight feels absolutely unbearable. He wonders if the quiet ache in his chest will ever ease. How long will he have to keep pretending?

every now and again, he even pretends that when you're talking about your boyfriend, you're just talking about him. all the places he took you out, the snacks you shared, the love you made - but reality quickly sets in and his heart sinks when you mention his name.

yuji watches you, and wonders why you decided so quickly that it would be your boyfriend and not him. why couldn't it be yuji? what makes your boyfriend so special, or better than him? he listens to the way you talk about him, as if you're trying to convince yourself that you're 'destined to be.' yuji knows, deep down, that this isn't it. you deserve someone who sees you, and understands you the way he does. but he’s not the one to say it, so he waits for you to notice.

yuji itadori who waits for you with absolutely no expectations because he knows that love—true love—and when its real, doesn't need to be rushed. it just exists, like the quiet glow of the moon in the dead of night. soft, steady, and always there—for you, specifically—no matter what.

blondieeu xx

[gracie-eilish]

soft kissing hour

summary: billie comes home in the middle of the night (softly) interrupting your peaceful snooze☁️✨

an: i think i’m liking writing soft/fluffy fics more than spicy or smut but who knows! this is only the beginning lol!

an: i’m in love with this song. it’s perfect. no one can tell me otherwise.

just the feeling of seeing your home in front of her brought an overwhelming sense of peace to billie. she had been on the road for weeks now and couldn’t wait to spend some time off. seeing friends, family, and most importantly, you.

she carefully grabbed her suitcase out of the trunk, locking the car up before heading inside. naturally, her beloved (not so small) puppies greeted her right at the door with kisses, having missed their mama.

“hi guys!” she whispered, giggling in between puppy kisses, “i missed you too.” she peppered both with kisses of their own before standing back up.

“where’s mama?” she asked as the puppies looked up at her with wide eyes before scampering down the hall towards the stairs.

she grabbed her bag and followed the pups, now wagging their tails and running up the stairs. she chuckled softly as they stopped in front of your shared bedroom door, looking at her with pride as if to say “we did it! we found mama!”

billie softly pushed the door open, finding the most peaceful scene. the balcony doors were open a bit letting the ocean air waft in, the sounds of the waves making everything feel dreamy. the little sunset lamp on the dresser casting a soft pink hue across the room, you’d always hated the bright white light of the overhead lamp. but finally, there was you.

tucked under a mountain of blankets, you were fast asleep cuddled up in one of billie hoodies, naturally. you had always been a pretty sleeper, something billie was jokingly envious of. you could fall asleep anywhere and look perfect.

she set her suitcase down by the door and slid off her black boots, before making her way over to the bed. she perched herself on the edge, not wanting to wake you just yet. some may find it creepy but she loved admiring you while you slept. you were so peaceful that she couldn’t help it. the way your hair cascaded over your shoulder and the pillow, you long lashes fluttering over your cheeks, the teensy hidden freckles on the top of your cheeks- only someone looking close could find them. she even chuckled softly at the teardrop marks on you pillowcase. your eyes watered when you yawned making your pillows look like you cried all night. a trait billie had to get used to, reminding herself you weren’t crying, just sleepy. your nose was twinged pink from the january air wafting through the door.

billie softly pushed some hair behind your ear before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheeks. she pulled away after a second, noticing a familiar smell. you’d always been partial to eilish no. 1, her first fragrance. the vanilla and chocolate blend suiting you perfectly. but billie smelt something different today. there was no hint of vanilla or even one of your floral perfumes you sometimes sprayed on during the day. you smelled like.. well.. billie. maybe it was billie’s hoodie cradling your body under the sheets, maybe not. billie smiled softly at the realization.

she gave you another kiss on your forehead before she retreated to the connected bathroom, needing to wash off the airport feel.

☁️🌌💤✨

you woke softly to the sound of the running shower and the padding of billie moving around in there. a soft smile broke out on your face as the water shut off signaling billie would be done soon. as she dried off she was humming a soft tune, nothing specific, just a soft rhythm strung together bouncing off the tile, sounding echoey and angelic and regardless.

the door opening caught your attention again, the bright light of the bathroom quickly disappearing as billie shut it back off. noticing you were awake now, she softly made her way to your bed.

“hi love bug” she whispered, peppering kisses to your cheeks again, making you giggle a bit.

“you’re home!” you mumbled sleepily but happy.

“yeah baby, i’m home” she sighed happily, holding your cheek.

“c’mere. i missed you” you whined, grabbing at her hands to pull her into your bed.

the second she flopped onto her side of the bed she couldn’t resist, pulling you in by your waist and finally kissing you. so softly but so passionately, as if to say, “i don’t want to disturb your peace, but i just want to say i love you.”

the two of you giggled in between kisses, just happy to be together again after so long.

as billie pulled away she chuckled, “you taste like peppermint.”

you feigned offense shooting back, “just because christmas is over doesn’t mean peppermint is. in fact peppermint everything is 50% at the store babe so get used to it.” billie just laughed and kissed you again, adoring your little antics.

“this really is just your world that i’m living in isn’t it?” she replied, raising her eyebrows and propping herself up on one elbow. you just nodded cheekily knowing you had billie wrapped around your finger.

she glanced over at the little clock on your nightstand, a bright blue 1:58 blinking back at her. she leaned in to kiss your forehead before whispering, “alright, go back to sleep my love. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

you just nuzzled yourself further into her arms before mumbling a fake groan, “okay. i love you.” and pressing a kiss to her collarbone.

she kissed your cheek before whispering, “i love you. i’m not going anywhere. don’t worry. i’m right here.”

with sleepy smiles and overflowing hearts, the two of you tangled yourselves together, falling asleep in each others arms with the ocean waves and puppies snoring as your soundtrack… and billie humming that silly little tune again before drifting off herself:)

💤☁️🫧

an: i feel like this is kinda similar to my “softness” post but what can i say, im a sucker for soft billie. i hope you like it!! (i hope my easter eggs weren’t hidden too far👀 im trained by miss swift herself on easter eggs so keep your eyes peeled for potentially more easter eggs in stories to come:)

also ik her dogs are far from puppies, i just call all dogs puppies because that’s what they are in my eyes!🐶🥹

and thanks for the followers!🥹 that’s like so sweet of you! anyways, love you so much!! sweet dreams babies☁️❤️

[allmylovc]

heartless!chris takes care of you when you´re drunk.

There had been a campus party tonight, and let´s just say you were having the time of your life. Now that you and chris broke up (again) you were able to enjoy it without any stress of him doing some stupid shit or getting mad over you doing some stupid shit.

You made out with like 10 diffrent guys, and took way too many shots, while chris stood there in the corner watching you like a hawk. He was seething. He hated seeing you around other men, it was disgusting watching you throw yourself on all these guys that you´ve never even met.

He walks up to you after he saw you stumble out the bathroom, and plop on the couch. He takes your drink out hand, your head shoots up "Hey!" you protest as you reach to take your drink back. He shakes his head and sighs "What´s wrong with you, huh?" he said as he taps your head with his other hand.

"Nothing." you scoffed, with an adorable pout on your lips. He rolled his eyes "You´re acting like such a dumbass today." your heart ached at his words. He always acted like this when you two broke up, but he wasn´t any better and he would do the same. So why was it a problem when you did it?

He tilted his head and smirked "C´mon, you´re to drunk to be around all these people." he said as he reached his hand out for you to take.

Which you did.

You two stood up and made your way out the party. He took you to his car, buckled your seatbelt for you and drove off. Once you two got to his place he got you carefully out the car and took you inside.

The second you stepped foot inside you felt that uneasy feeling in your stomach “I’m gonna puke.” you said as you put a hand over your mouth. His eyes widen and he immediately takes you over to the bathroom. Your stomach churns, and you bend over the toilet, barely holding yourself upright.

The nausea is overwhelming, and all you can do is gag, your body shaking with each heave. Chris is kneeling beside you, holding your hair into a make shift ponytail.

His face twists up in disgust as he hears your vomit pouring into the toilet “Let it all out.” He said quietly, as his fingers brushed through your hair.

You wipe your mouth and flush the toilet, and sit back on the cold tile, your legs weak and trembling beneath you. Chris sits down as well, leaning his back over the tub with a grunt.

“What were you thinking?” he asked, you looked up meeting his gaze, you shrugged “I don’t know, chris.” You ran a hand through your hair—moving it away from your face “I was sick of your bullshit,” he scoffed and shook his head “So you’re blaming you being drunk and stupid on me?” he laughed bitterly “Of course.” he huffed “Cause you’re always right, and everyone else is wrong.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes “That’s not what i meant.” you protested “Then what did you mean?” he snapped “You acting stupid and being a fucking slut has nothing to do with me.” he retorted harshly.

The silence grew heavy and so did the tension in the room. Maybe he was right, maybe you were being a total fucking slut, but in your defense you just wanted to forget about him.

“You know how pissed i was when i saw you make out with all those guys?” he admitted silently. You felt a glimmer of happiness knowing you were able to successfully make him jealous, but even then you still felt a bit of guilt gnawing at your chest.

He met your gaze “This is.. this is stupid.” he scoffed, you nodded in agreement “I know it is,” you sighed as you sat straight “I just wish you wouldn’t act the way you act all the time.” He bit his lips “Yeah.” he whispered “I’m sorry.”

“You act so heartless all the time, chris.” he said quietly, he bit the inside of his cheek “I just wish you could show me how you feel sometimes.” he continued.

You two just sat there for a moment in the awkward silence, and the heavy tension in the room. You both fucked up bad, but unlike him you were willing to talk and apologize for your actions. Meanwhile he just sat there and said absolutely nothing.

You looked up and sighed “I love you, chris.” your confession hanging in the air, he didn’t even look at you or show a hint of sympathy or affection he just nodded.

“I know.”

©ALLMYLOVC all rights reserved.

⊹ authors note  — woohoo first heartless!chris blurb, and i don’t how to feel about it, idk why i criticize my work so much, but enjoy! i apologize if there are any misspelled words or grammar errors. english is not my first language.

tags: @marrykisskilled @chrislilcumslvt @sosasturns @cyberskulzzz @slut4chris888 @waitforyrlove @zebonos @/sturnioloangell @slctsblogana @anyaa2s @emely9274 @shadowthesim @frankoceanfanpage @mrsarnold @freshloveee @t0riiiis @jetaimevous @sturn777 @sturniologirlzz @venusbabysblog @ch6rm

[strawberryforks]

Can you please write something for Tim Bradford where the reader is his rookie? Kind of like a grumpy /sunshine fic?? I just started watching the rookie and I'm literally in love with him😩

reckless smiles

warnings: probably swearing, mentions of DV & guns, other police stuff, nepotism (oops)

a/n: got you anon! hope this works! 🙈🙈 as always, asks are SO open! i’m working on a part two to the other TR fic i posted (per request) and if anyone likes this one there’s another small fic in this little mini series already written that i could post! it’s the call with barnaby <3 anyways, ENJOY!!

Sergeant Grey stands at the front of the briefing room. You’re sitting in the front row (like all rookies do), just happy to be here, beside fellow trainees Nolan, West, and Chen. “Rookies!” booms the sergeant, “today, we’re going to switch things up. Nolan you’re with Lopez, Chen with Bishop, West with me,” your face falls, smile collapsing completely, morphing into something else as you realize who's left to pair up with. Who you’ll be riding with today.

Tim Bradford.

Nolan leans over from his chair. He rests his hand on your shoulder while standing up and moving past you. But first, “You’ll be okay,” he assures—Chen, Bradford’s usual victim, doesn’t say a thing. Instead she shoots you a squashed smile and mouths “good luck,” you know you’ll need it but… but you’ll make the best out of it. Like always.

You steel your expression, trying to wipe away the upset that slipped onto your face momentarily. Despite Tim Bradford being the biggest asshole in the LAPD he’s your superior and you were raised to respect rank… even if you don’t respect the person.

“L/n, you’re with Bradford. Try not to kill each other. You’re good cops, we need you both.”

“She’s a boot. Hardly a cop,” Tim Bradford, asshole extraordinaire, chimes in.

“This batch of rookies is a good one and you know that. L/n is a legacy, top scores in the academy and a record number of arrests for her first year on the force. That’s not easily dismissable.”

Officers began to trickle out of the room, Lopez and Bishop were the first to leave, and then your friends—their rookies, Nolan and Chen, with.

“Feeding me to the wolves, West?” Jackson grins back at you, shrugs, and the door shuts behind him. Even Grey leaves, not wanting to be a part of this. The entire briefing room is empty save from you, Tim Bradford, and Smitty. Smitty, who has his hand inside a miniature bag of popcorn and his feet crossed at the ankles and stacked on top of the desk in front of him. He smacks loudly and Tim shoots him a withering glare. “Fine, fine,” he says, palms raised, “I’ll go. Just uh… tell me how it–”

“Smitty!”

He leaves the briefing room and then you’re left alone.

“Boot,”

“Sir,” you echo.

“I know you’re used to special treatment but that’s not how I work. I’ll be driving,” sure you (with your history) love to be behind the wheel but that’s not a problem, Tim doesn’t let Lucy drive either, it isn’t bias, just how he does things. “You do what I say when I say–none of that reckless idiotic behaviour I hear about from Harper. Just because she has unorthodox methods does not mean you should be copying them. You’re a rookie. Today, my rookie.”

“I don’t expect special treatment. And yes sir.”

Tim crosses his arms across his chest and tilts his head ever so slightly. He can’t figure you out–it frustrates him that he wants to. You’re always smiling and even now, looking at him with as close to a frown as he’s ever seen on your face, there’s something in your eyes. Not happiness but challenge, maybe? Determination. A sparkle that can’t be dimmed. Not with his shouting, not with his Tim-Tests. He almost takes it as a challenge. He almost tries to break you, to interrupt that inability to back down–the one he knows will get you killed.

The next week is awful but every day you show up to work with a smile (sometimes faux–but fake it until you make it and all that) and the drive to do better, to impress him.

You can’t.

At a DV call, the assaulted woman is terrified. Tim, he would leave that detail out, instead focusing on your shortcomings (how he had threatened to give you a blue page, how you sat there and took it: “I’d understand, is all I’m saying. If you need to put that blue page in my file, go ahead. And I know my lack of regret is not making this better for myself but… I’d do it again,”) that when the victim pulled a gun and pointed it at your head, after you arrested her husband, you decided to take away Tim’s shot. She was frantic and angry, losing her absolute mind, but moreover she was scared and when she pointed the gun at you–safety off, finger pulsing over the trigger because all of her was shaking. Tim had her in his crosshairs. You saw this and moved. You moved, knowing she would follow, and putting yourself at risk while making sure she couldn’t be killed. In your eyes, she was still the victim. She did fire her weapon. Into the ceiling, after you knocked the gun away.

Two similar incidents follow. Ones where you put yourself in needless danger.

You’re reckless. Impulsive. He’s seen you speed off duty, seen you sweet-talk the would-be arresting officer, give him your number and drive away scott free. All because of your smile, because of the twinkle in your eyes. The brightness, the innocent glow. Tim has seen you out at the club, drinking your bodyweight in booze, dancing and singing karaoke, and even a Clip Tok video of you soaking wet after diving into a partially frozen lake to rescue a dog. The public went wild over that one–Aaron Thorsen was in frame too, boosting the videos popularity. Tim could recognize the sentiment. It was great how determined you were, how kind you were, and the soft spot you had for animals and people alike but he was there and had hated every second of that terrifying call.

Tim corrects you, you smile and take it, switching your coffee into your other hand, handing the one you bought him over.

Tim shouts at you, that’s fine, you smile and take it.

That’s what you do, what you’ve always done: smile and endure.

“It’s downpouring, good thing our shift is almost over.”

“I’ve always liked the rain. It’s nice,”

“What part of getting rained on is nice, Boot? It’s basically the sky crying.”

“We need rain. If it’s good for plants it can’t be bad for us.”

“I find that logic flawed.”

“You find a lot of logic flawed, sir.”

“What was that?”

You tell him nothing, that you didn’t mean it, and your shift is over. Heading back to the station to grab your things you make your way into the locker room. Lucy’s there, pulling on her jacket and taking out her umbrella. “How do you do it, Luce?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“Deal with Tim. He hates me. I try so hard and he just hates me,”

“I don’t think…”

“He does. You know he does. He hates me because of my last name, because he doesn’t think I’m a good cop. Because I smile. I don’t know what to do. No one’s ever hated me for smiling before…”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Just hang in there. We’ve only got a few months left before we’re P2s then Grey’ll let you ride with someone else, I’m sure. Maybe with me–how about it?”

You nod, and give Lucy a small smile. She sees through it, how tired you look, how defeated. She rests her hand on your shoulder. “I’ve got to get going. Jackson’s waiting for me–I said I’d cook tonight.”

“See ya, Luce. Have a goodnight and say ‘hi’ to West for me.”

“Of course.”

Lucy slings her bag over her shoulder and leaves the locker room. The door swings open a second time and in walks Tim. He’s silent as he walks over to you. As he mirrors your movements across the small room, grabbing his own things from the cubby space.

Hehearditallhehearditallhehearditall.

You paste a smile on, almost wincing as you slip past him and– “Boo–Y/n.”

Your back faces him and all of you wants to keep it that way. My shift is over–I don’t have to endure, you think, but then you hear your father’s voice. Hear his lessons on respect, on how things should work in the department, how to interact with coworkers, superiors–even the awful ones. You turn to him, you look up, meet his icy blue eyes and repress a shiver. You forget to smile. Your slips stay pressed into a small line as you look at him, realizing that you are too close. You’re too close and you should back up but you can’t. Your breathing heavily, you realize Tim is too. He’s looking down at you with melting eyes. The frost, the coldness, seem to fade away as his hand flys to the back of your neck.

Your tongue darts out, wets your lips, and then his press to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, your body reacting to his touch while your mind hasn’t caught up. TimBradfordiskissingme. MyTOiskissingme. Those thoughts are the only ones that make it through the fog. The questions are satiated by how he’s making you feel. His lips are warm and soft, like his breath, when he pulls away for a moment, eyes boring into your own. “Is this–”

“Yes,” you say. It’s okay. It’ssookay. Betterthanokay.You nod a few times for clarification and one of his large hands lands on the small of your back, pressing you to him, the other moves beside your head as he pushes you against the wall, caging you in.

You’ve never been more okay with being trapped. By him, by his mouth.

His kisses were talking and when they stopped, he was ready to.

Staring down at you with a fast beating heart (no match for the rate your own was thumping in your chest at) he smiled back, for once. It was infectious. A grin split your face and you felt blissful, for a moment. Like you and Tim were the only two in the world, like nothing else mattered, like you were floating in a bubble, transcending your problems and surroundings.

It was a nice bubble, “I don’t hate you.”

Until he popped it. Until he reminded you of what had just happened, of what led to this and the conversation you had with Lucy–the one he overheard.

“I don’t hate you,” he said.

“I don’t believe you,” you blurt.

He raises a brow. His expression says ‘you don’t believe me? After that?’ and fair enough, because all you believe now is that you’re incredibly confused. Incredibly, very confused.

“You yell at me, you constantly talk about how I’m not ready to be a cop, you regularly threaten to give me blue pages and criticize what I do in my freetime–”

“None of that means I hate you.”

“It doesn’t make it seem like you like me! You get mad at me for smiling!”

“I don’t… okay, I get annoyed sometimes but it’s situational. When I’m reaming you out, you shouldn’t be smiling.”

“It’s that or cry! I don’t like being yelled at.”

“I don’t like when you put yourself at risk constantly. That’s why I yell, that’ why I reprimand you. You’ll make a damn good cop but no one wants you to make yourself a fucking martyr. No one wants you to put everything else–the job, a dog–above your own life! I get mad because I care,” he argues. Then lowly, “too damn much.”

“Bradford…”

“It’s Tim, to you.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to worry anyone. I just…” you trail off, Tim still watching you closely. “I can’t not try to save someone. I became a cop to do good, to help people, not to hurt them, to shoot them, to arrest innocents and victims of circumstance. There’s enough awfulness in the world that I don't want to contribute. I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

“I didn’t want to be a cop but it’s what my family does–I like the job now, but the way I work it, you know?”

“I get it. I do. You just need to be more careful. You weren’t even on the clock on that call,”

You’re not exactly sure which call he’s referencing. You’ve intervened a few too many times when you shouldn’t have been on duty. It’s how you have (as said by Grey) ‘a record number of arrests for your first year on the force’ because you don’t let injustice slide just because you’re not getting paid. That, and because you’re ridiculously nosey.

“What call?”

“With the drug dealer and that stupid dog.”

“Hey,” you scold. “Barnaby is far from stupid.”

“Barnaby?”

“Yeah. He was a stray so I kept and named him. We trauma bonded–no way I was letting him go to a shelter after that.”

“No, no, that makes sense. I’m just wondering how the hell you came up with Barnaby.

You shrug; it’s a good name.

“Bradford!” shouts Grey, “you in there?”

Tim walks towards the door, shouting back and confirming his presence.

“My office! There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Alright!” Tim turns to you, he mouths his goodbyes and slips from the room leaving you incredibly confused.

[graveyardgremlins]

WIP ALERT WIP ALERT

What makes death so special that everyone seems so scared to talk about it? It is not as if, in this universe, it’s the end of the line. Not really. If anything, it felt more like the beginning of something.

Now, routine feels like the end of it all. Even when you’re a vigilante and everyday is a surprise, it still feels like slowly withering away. Like, if you stop moving you’re going to start rotting on the spot. But for some reason, people love routine and hate death.

Dick, for example, constantly looks terrified. It’s not obvious, as no feeling in our faces is ever obvious, but I can tell it’s there. He once said, mournfully, that we would bury Bruce like he is now, with jet black hair. The thought upset him, but I still don’t understand why. It’s not as if Bruce cares. Sometimes it feels like he is trying to speed up the process.

And sure, it would suck not to be able to see someone you care about ever again. But if Dick truly is so scared of missing Bruce, he can go knocking on Constantine’s door — or Zatanna’s, or Madame Xanadu’s, or Doctor Fate’s, or Jason Blood’s, or… you get my point — and ask for a seance. Besides, it’s not as if you can say the guy wasted his life. No one on this Earth has more accomplishments under his belt than Batman himself.

So why the long face?

Like, sure I get why they look weird every time I bring up my past death. I was a kid and all that. But they seriously need to stop looking at me like I’m planning to kill myself everytime I bring up my future death. I’m not planning to die any time soon, but what if I do? Are they going to lose their shit again?

I mean, Tim literally cloned his best friend as a manner to bring him back from the dead because he couldn’t cope with him being gone. Not to say I’m terribly worried about the Imposter missing me so much as to clone me, but still. What if I die? Are they going to try to bring me back? Because I don’t think I want that.

Death was easy, you know? It was awful up until the point where it wasn’t. I don’t remember much, but I remember being warm and embraced. And then someone dragged me back screaming and kicking. Then I woke up boiling alive, with the skin falling off my bones in the middle of the Assassin’s League Headquarters.

I’m not particularly excited about being boiled alive again.

No one in this family knows how to let go and Bruce is the worst one. I used to be so mad that his grief wasn’t enough to make him kill the Joker. I wanted him to prove that he loved me like he said he did. But I was a recently deceased and resurrected teenager. I firmly believe that the only reason Jesus reacted better to being murdered is because he was already thirty three. Now, as an adult, I’m less mad.

Bruce deals with grief like this: he doesn’t. He lets it eat him away. I think he likes it, the feeling of rotting from the inside out. Maybe that’s why he likes routine too. I think he has a lot of love inside of him that, instead of showing it, he reschedules it. Like he thinks “tomorrow I’ll show it” and then never does. And when I died, maybe he didn’t have anywhere to put that love anymore. There wouldn’t be any more “tomorrows.” So he just rotted.

It’s why I try not to be jealous about how endlessly patient and affectionate he is with Damian. Or how careful he is with Tim. Or how much interest he takes in everything Duke does. Or how he always listens when Steph talks. Or how he always comes when Cass calls him. At least, I served to teach him a lesson. 

So, yeah, when I got an invitation to a Ghost Ball, I didn’t tell anyone. Because they don’t understand why I linger in the cemetery. They don’t understand why I kill, when they believe I should be the first one to be against death. They don’t understand why I keep talking about dying over and over and over. They just don’t get it.

Also, they would totally ruin this moment for me. I’m sure of it.

How many times do you get invited to a ball? Not those shitass galas the Waynes always go to. A real authentic 1800’s ball. With the lettering cursive invitation, sprayed with some kind of perfume, sealed with a gold wax coat of arms. Not only that! To what was an official celebration to the Ghost King’s 21th birthday.

I didn’t even know there was a Ghost King!

Sure, it’s probably a trap. This kind of thing is always a trap. But they had addressed the invitation to “The Red Knight of Gotham, Avenger of the Damned, Cursebreaker, Three Times Born, Wielder of the All-Blades, the Darkest Star” and, if I am to be honest, flattery will get you everywhere with me.

I’m not entirely sure what the “Darkest Star” was in reference to, but it’s the least of my concern. The theme of the ball was Black, White and Neon Green, which completely fucks up my aesthetic. The last time I wore green I was a Robin and I’m particularly inclined to never wear it again. I’m also not wearing a tuxedo. Maybe a black suit over the armor instead of the usual jacket and a neon green handkerchief.

Now the problem is getting fitted for a suit like that. Every rich motherfucker knows that just sending your measurements to a tailor that never met you in person before is the recipe for a disaster. And sure as hell there is not a single tailor in the Crime Alley. Not that I know of. And there is no way in hell, or heaven or wherever the flying fuck the Infinity Realms were, I’m showing up to a real ball looking anything short of dreamy.

So, I did the reasonable thing and texted Alfred.

If you could come by the Manor, Master Jason, I will see what can be done. He texted back.

There is a theory going around the midst of superheroes that says that the one thing all of the bats have in common is how stubborn we are. It’s true, but I don’t think we learned that from Bruce. I’m pretty sure that’s just the Pennyworth in all of us. That man clearly only still works as a butler at 65 and calls us all “master”, “miss”, “mister” and “ma’am” out of pure stubbornness. I have no evidence of this, but I’m working on the theory that someone at some point betted that he would crack eventually, which is why he hasn’t. That I know of.

So, I showed up at the Manor like he asked me to.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tim asked.

“I live here,” I answered.

“No, you don’t.”

“Unless someone touched my room, which I doubt, then yes, I do.”

“When was the last time you were here?”

“Last week. I dropped by to move all your furniture 1 inch to the left counterclockwise.”

“I knew it! I knew someone was touching my stuff! Steph said I was crazy!”

“You are, but I touched your stuff. Like all of it. Including your Monster collection. You should really clean that, by the way. It’s disgusting.”

“Fuck you.”

Someone cleaned their throat and we both turned around to see Alfred standing in the hallway, looking less than impressed. I’m pretty sure we learned that from him too.

“Sorry, Alfred,” Tim said.

Alfred sighed and then turned his frown towards me.

“What? I didn’t curse.”

He raised one pointed eyebrow and that’s all it took.

“Sorry for touching your stuff, Timberlake,” I said and turned to Alfred again. “Happy?”

“I suppose that will suffice.”

“Yeah, fine,” Tim agreed and moved out of the way to let me in. “Just never do it again.”

“Oh, I’m definitely doing it again.”

“Why?!”

“Dick told me to stop whining and start getting on that, and I quote, ‘big brother grind’, so you and the Demon brat are going to have to endure it.”

“Why not Duke?”

“He is obviously my favorite.”

Tim just groaned and followed us to one of the upstairs closet.

“What are we doing anyway?”

“We are doing nothing. You weren’t invited.”

“Master Jason is getting fitted for a new suit,” Alfred said, ignoring me.

“Why?” Tim asked.

“What are you? A Toddler? Why do you think?”

“Well, you sure as hell aren’t going to the galas—”

“Damn right, I won’t.”

“And you’re definitely not going on a date—”

“Wait, why?”

“Because.”

I turned around to fully face him. “What do you mean ‘because’?”

“Just because,” Tim made a vague gesture with his hand. “You know.”

“No. As a matter of fact, I don’t know.”

“You know,” He gestured again. “Because.”

“Because what?”

“You’re chronically single.”

“What?!”

Tim threw himself on one of the sofas that was turned towards the closet and sank into it. “Chronically single. Chronically, meaning in a persistent and recurring—”

“I know what chronically single means!”

“Then you know.”

“I’m not chronically single!”

“How long ago was your last relationship and how long did it last?”

“That does not mean I’m chronically single! I get bitches all the time!”

“Perhaps, Master Jason, refraining from referring to your partners in a demeaning manner might be the first step to improving your romantic aptitudes.”

“I don’t– I’m not– Ugh!”

“Try this suit on. I think it will be the closest to your current measurements.”

I took the suit from his hand and closed the closet door behind me.

“So,” Tim said, “If you’re not going to a gala, you’re not going to a date, then where are you going?”

“None of your business.”

“It’s not a birthday, because I’m pretty sure none of your friends is an Aquarius–”

He kept talking and I tuned him out. The pants were a bit too tight around the knees, so they would have to fix that, and the jacket sleeves were a little too short. Besides that, I liked the red lining inside, as well as the flower pattern that almost disappeared into the black. It wasn’t very on the theme, and I would risk looking a bit christmassy, but it would be worth it. I did need a neon green handkerchief, though.

“It can’t be Two-Face, because he is still in Arkham and also not your usual target. Black Mask has been quiet, so maybe him,” Tim was, somehow, still talking.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, opening the closet door to let Alfred take a look.

“People you might be planning to make a move against in a place where a suit might be necessary.”

“Maybe I just want a suit, ever thought of that?”

“You’re fitting it over armor,” Tim pointed out.

“Touché.”

“Tt, it’s too tight around your knees,” Alfred commented.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Oh, Alfred? Do you by any chance have a neon green handkerchief?”

Alfred made a face. “I do not own any monstrosity of that sort, Master Jason. Why do you ask?”

“Because the theme is Black, White and Neon Green.”

“Wait, you’re actually crashing a party?”

Alfred sighed and made another disgusted face. “In that case… This suit won’t do.”

“Sorry, Alfred. I didn’t write the dress code.”

“Of course not, Master Jason. I would expect that you would have a better sense for fashion than that.”

“And for your information, I’m not crashing a party. I was invited. Not that you know what that’s like, Stalker.”

“Who would invite you to anything?!”

“Not telling.”

“C’mon!”

“Perhaps the Zegna will look less… clown-like with a neon green handkerchief than the Armani,” Alfred said, mostly to himself.

“Did I hear, Armani?” Selina’s honey-dripping voice came from the corridor, and she poked her head inside the room. “What are you boys doing hiding here?”

“I’m getting fitted for a suit.”

“He is going to a party and I’m trying to figure out which one,” Tim answered at the same time as me.

“Oh! That sounds fun! Do you need help, Alfred?” She asked and slid into the sofa next to Tim.

“I’m afraid I am at a loss, Miss Kyle. The theme of the evening is Black, White and, ugh, Neon Green.”

She made a face very much like Alfred’s own. “Where are you going, Kit Kat? The Riddler’s birthday isn’t until July.”

“Not telling you, either.”

She pouted and pulled Tim’s face near her own, he understood what she was doing a minute later and pouted too. “Please?” They said, like children.

“Nope. Not happening.”

Selina shrugged it off, not particularly bothered, but Tim seemed to still be fixated on the issue. 

“Have you tried that Slim-fit Hugo Boss brown suit, Alfred? I think it will make him look distinguished amongst the neon green aberration,” she said.

“Is it a winter party of some kind?” Tim asked.

“Not giving you any tips, Timmy.”

“Actually, Master Jason, that could help us find a better suit.”

I sighed. “I don’t think it is specifically a winter party. I think it's just a coincidence.”

“So it is a celebration of some kind!”

“I’m. Not. Telling. You.”

“No need. I will find out eventually.”

Alfred brought out the Hugo Boss brown suit and held it up for Selina to see. 

“I think it will clash, Miss Kyle,” he said.

“I think you’re right, Alfred,” She tapped one manicured finger to her lips. “This party is not of someone we know. Is it, Kit Kat?”

I shrugged.

“Why do you say that, Selina?” Tim asked.

“Motherly instincts.”

The door behind them opened again, this time to reveal a mildly disgruntled looking Bruce. His hair was a mess and he was wearing a sweater and sweatpants. He was definitely sick.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Are you sick, old man?”

He sniffed. “Seasonal allergies.”

“Jason is getting fitted for a suit,” Selina answered.

“Oh?”

“And I’m trying to find out why.”

“Oh.”

“You guys are nosy,” I said.

Alfred brought out another slim-fit suit and both Selina and Bruce made a face. “Yes, I imagined so,” Alfred said, disappointed.

“What kind of party is it, chum?”

“Not telling.”

“The theme is Black, White and Neon Green,” Selina said, and both her, Alfred and Bruce grimaced.

“Jason, please tell me you’re not going to the Riddler’s birthday party.”

“Of course, he isn’t, silly. The Riddler’s birthday is July 21st.”

“Oh! Should I send a present?”

“It would be very polite,” Alfred said and Selina agreed.

“If this party is of someone we don’t know then it must be someone you met recently or a very long time ago. But if it was from someone you used to know, you probably wouldn’t be using an expensive suit, and if it was someone new we would have heard of it already,” Tim said.

“What makes you think it is someone we don’t know?” Bruce asked.

Selina raised her hand with a cheeky smile. “If we knew them already, little Kit Kat wouldn’t be so worried about imprrrressing them. We would have embarrassed him already.”

“I’m not worried about impressing anyone.”

“You’re getting fitted for a suit,” she pointed out.

“Yes, because I outgrew all my other suits and I can’t wear them with the armor. It’s not as if I’m buying a new one,” I rolled my eyes.

“If you’re wearing your armor are you worried about being attacked?” Bruce asked.

“Is it a mission then?” Tim asked. “Otherwise, why would you be going to a place where you might be attacked?”

“Good point, champ.”

“I’m not answering any of those questions.”

Bruce pondered for a second. “Have you tried the gray Kiton wool suit? It might null a bit of the neon green.”

“Ooh. Good idea, love.”

“Let’s see if you’re correct, Master Bruce.”

“I’m texting Dick to see if he knows anything.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Father, have you seen Alfred Jr?” Damian’s voice rang from the corridor.

“Not really, Dami.”

“He is probably in that warm spot in the library where the sun hits just right,” Selina said and stretched as if she could feel the warmth from here.

“Thank you, miss Kyle,” Damian poked his head inside. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re welcome, Damian.”

“I live here.”

“Do you?” Bruce asked.

“Do you?” Damian asked, fully walking into the room.

You see? This is why I can’t tell them anything about this ball. Or else they will want to come with, they are nosy like that, I’d have to explain to every cute person I meet why I brought my entire family with me when the invitation didn’t even have ‘plus one’ on it.

Jesus, maybe Selina was right.

“Master Jason is getting fitted for a new suit, Master Damian,” Alfred said and held the gray wool suit.

“Yeah, that doesn’t do it either,” Selina said.

“What is wrong with the suit?”

“The theme is Black, White and Neon Green.” Everyone grimaced at that. They really needed to stop repeating the same thing over and over.

“What is the occasion?”

“Kit Kat won’t tell us.”

“Nope.”

“I’ve talked to Dick!” Tim announced. “He has no idea who could be, but his best guest is someone Jason met with the Outlaws! So I’m going to text Cass, so she can text Artemis and see if she was invited to anything.”

Damian sat on the opposite arm of the sofa and pondered.

“How much have you narrowed it down?”

“Someone we don’t know, someone dangerous, possibly on a mission, not a winter party,” Bruce said.

“Birthday?”

“No gift.”

“Maybe it’s someone I don’t know enough to buy a gift to,” I said, just to throw them off.

The three of them narrowed their eyes at me.

“Yup, talked to Artemis. She doesn’t know anything,” Tim said. “Also Dick is calling.”

He put it on speaker so everyone could suffer together.

“Hey, guys!”

“Hey, chum.”

“Hello.”

“Hey, birdie.”

“Sup?”

“Jesus Christ,” I rubbed my temples. I could feel a migraine coming up.

“Jason! The man, the myth, the legend! Will you tell your big bro where exactly you’re going? I promise to keep it a secret.”

“Not even on your deathbed.”

Alfred brought out another suit. It was also gray and it still did not match neon green.

“C’mon, Little Wing! Don’t be like that! It can be that bad for us to know.”

“It’s out of principle.”

“That reminds me,” Tim said. “Dick, go screw yourself.”

Alfred made a face at that, but didn’t comment anything.

“Wait, why? What did I do?”

“Why did you tell Jason to ‘act like a big brother’? He touched all of my stuff!”

“I’m sure he didn’t touch all of it.”

“Oh, I didn’t look under the bed, but besides that? It will be very funny when you start finding the glitter.”

“What?!”

“Ah, is that why Jon found a lot of superboy merch I did not buy in my closet?” Damian asked. “Well, I must say that is not a good prank. I’m not embarrassed to say I’m my best friend’s biggest fan. Though, he did cry.”

“You say that now, because you haven’t found the bees.”

“What bees?”

I simply smiled. This wouldn’t work on most of my siblings, but Damian was small enough to be fooled and once he believed it, the others would follow.

“I swear to God, Jason. If I find glitter on my clothes I’m putting a skunk inside your house,” Tim said.

There was also no glitter, but now he would check everything first. Forever.

“Why would you do that to a poor innocent animal?” I said, to be contrary.

“Yeah, Tim. Leave the animals alone! It’s not their fault Little Wing started a prank war.”

“Yes, Drake. I’m disappointed you’d even think about this.”

Alfred brought out a deep blue suit. Selina sighed and slumped down the sofa and Bruce shook his head.

“Hey, Dick,” I asked. “Do you have any suits that might fit me and that will look good with neon green?”

“Why do you ask? Don’t tell me Poison Ivy is your plus one.”

“Alright, I won’t.”

“Poison Ivy is light green, not neon,” Tim said.

“And Ivy is too old for you,” Bruce said, pointedly. I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t think I’d have anything either way.”

There was a moment of silence while everyone considered, perhaps the color neon green or perhaps Poison Ivy.

“I figured it out!” Damian shouted suddenly. Selina flinched from the noise, and he apologized quickly. “Sorry. But I have figured it out.”

“What?” Everyone asked. I wasn’t particularly worried, it’s very hard for the little brat to have known about a King I wasn’t even aware of. Though, maybe Ra’s did know it before me.

“Regular-fit Dark Grey Virgin Wool Serge from Hugo Boss,” Damian said profoundly.

“What?” Tim asked.

“The suit that will go with neon green.”

Alfred, Selina and Bruce thought it out. “Yes, I believe that might work, Master Damian.”

“Good job, son,” Bruce said, making my insides twist painfully.

Selina simply raised her hand over Tim’s head so Damian could high five her.

“That still doesn’t answer where he is going!”

“Who would do a Neon Green party? Besides the Riddler, his birthday isn’t until July.”

“How do you even– No, actually, I don’t want to know. Thanks for the help, Demon Brat.”

“You’re welcome. Now tell us where you’re going.”

Fair enough. “To a birthday party,”

“Goddammit! It was the first thing I crossed off!”

“Of whom?”

“None of your business, old man.”

“C’mon, tell us Little Wing.”

“What are we trying to find out?” Duke asked, walking into the room. “And why is everyone here?”

“Jason is going to a birthday party and he won’t tell us who's is jt,” Tim said.

“Oh?”

“And I’m getting a suit fitted.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, though. I’ll tell you whose birthday it is later.”

“Hey!”

“Wait, why?”

“Yes, why him?”

“Oh, Duke is my favorite.”

Duke smiled innocently at all the people in the room and did a little twirl.

“That’s not fair!”

“Hey, this is your fault. You told me to be an older sibling.”

“Older siblings don’t pick favorites!”

“Of course they do. Damian is your favorite, I’m Cass’ favorite, Duke is my favorite, and Tim is no one’s favorite.”

“Screw you!”

“Don’t worry. When Bruce adopts another one you can be their favorite.”

“I’m not adopting anyone.”

Everyone in the room raised an eyebrow at that — yet another thing they got from Alfred — and Selina patted his hand. “Whatever you say, love.”

Alfred fitted the suit perfectly, to the point where that one guy on twitter that talks about male clothing would applaud. And he did find a neon green handkerchief, though he would only buy it if I promised to burn it afterwards, which I swiftly agreed to. I considered bringing a present, but something I learned from the filthy rich is that it’s always better to look like an asshole rather than a fool.

And so the suit saga ends and the ball saga begins.

One would think that an interdimensional being called the Ghost King would think of better ways to direct his guests towards his party than a set of coordinates and another number, which I quickly realized to be the hour in military time. Of course, one would be wrong. So me, my bike, my beautiful suit and my weapons directed ourselves to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, literally in the middle of Nevada's desert.

God, I am going to arrive at this party covered in sand.

[sadmiserablechv]

Richard as Talon prefer to communicate with chirps and other bird noises.

It's not that he can't speak, he still remembers how to do it from when he was human. He just doesn't want to do it.

When the Court is down and survived Talons run god knows where without any master to hold them in place, Dick found some abandoned house that he slowly starting to equip as his nest. I think that first Bat that he started to look from a side was Red Hood.

Talon saw power and raw anger, maybe feel something that Lazarus Pit left inside of Jason, so he decided to look. Just from curiosity.

Slowly it's became his entertainment. Look and learn some new things, new move that was not so lethal. Sometimes Talon wonders why Red Hood so soft when he clearly want to shoot someone brains out.

And they both know that Grayson follows him. Sometimes Red Hood can catch the glimpse of gold in corner of his eye, sometimes he can almost hear disapproved chirp when rubber bullets doesn't kill anyone.

One time he almost catches that annoying little bastard, except he doesn't. Just because he can almost feel admiration from that dead child when he finally pins him down to the ground. It's wrong on so many levels that Todd just can't.

So he let him go and think reprove himself for about a week. That it's just became a routine as Talon gets just more and more comfortable with him.

Now it's sits just a roof away or by his side at most of his patrols.

Red Hood perfectly knows that that thing is deadly weapon raised from the dead - haha - to become nightmare to anyone who decided to cross path of the Court.

And yet he can't do anything with it. Because it is just a child. Deadly? Absolutely. But did you see Damian? Cass? It's not a big deal for bats.

So now, when he sits on another stakeout with abnormal still and quiet Talon by his side, Red Hood thinks that it's okay. As long as this kid by his side, Grayson at least can't kill anyone.

It took them for about two and a half month to become as comfortable as they can be without always thinking: "He is going to kill me".

And it's when Jason decide to start communicate with Birdie.

It's not like he gets an answer first try, but as time flew by they start to talk. Short, quiet, but it was something.

And one day bats definitely found out about Talon. Maybe they catch a glimpse of him with Jason when the fly by, maybe when one of them decided to barge into one of Todds safehouses and saw...it.

Damian, in cold tone, already ready to fight: Todd, I hope you have an explanation why one of them are here?

Jason, calmly sits and just shrugs his shoulders: What can I say. I'm a good father.

Dick by his side, baring his teeth: *angry chirping*

Jason: Language.

Dick: *more angry swirls and chirps*

Damian: What did you just say?!

Jason, a little smug: He says that you are stupid. Don't worry, it's what I teach him.

[marinettesaltprompts]

Miraculous x DC Saltfic Prompt part 2 (:

Prompt by @kawaiichibiart

A quick just so you know, I did look up the legality of removing a child from their parents care in France, not sure if I covered it correctly, but yeah (:

As a reminder, this takes place at the exact same time as my last MLBxDC prompt.

Let's get into it!! >:D

To give some context for anyone reading this first: the Akuma class wins a trip to Gotham instead of New York. What the class isn't aware of is that Adrien is moving to Gotham in order to live with his new mother, Selina Kyle.

Back to the story, as I said, this takes place at the same time as the other MLBxDC prompt.

And it starts with Amelie meeting with an old friend, Selina Kyle.

Now, both these women have their strenghts. They know what they want and how to get it. Most wouldn't think of them as friends, but they are, it's true. And because they're friends, they will sometimes ask each other for favors, big or small.

When Selina visited, Amelie asked for her help regarding Adrien. She couldn't tell why, but she just had a feeling Gabriel was up to something. When her husband passed, Gabriel didn't let Adrien attend the funeral. When she and Felix visited, the Agreste Mansion felt cold.

Cold in a way that denied a child the care he needed. Cold in the sense that, despite the beautiful weather outside, being inside felt like the dead of winter.

And she didn't like it.

She didn't like how it felt. What her mind drew up. The image of her sister's child, alone, in a large, cold, building. The boy who had her son's reflection, starved for affection.

She needed to find a way to get him out. To get something on Gabriel. There had to be something. But he keeps pushing her away. Try as she might, she can only do so much.

This is where Selina comes in. As a favor, she agrees to help Amelie, starting, not with Gabriel, but with his employees.

Employees who knew Adrien more than Gabriel did.

Employees who also wanted Adrien out of Gabriel's grasp.

Employees who paid attention to things. To the days Adrien was pulled out of school, to the way he dreaded having to model with Lila Rossi from the start, to the way he just looked so, so tired.

It's easy to convince some of them to spill things. To say what they saw.

Were they worried about their jobs? Well, sure, but some of them were planning on leaving themselves, either to work for someone else or to work by themselves. So, why not admit things to this woman?? She's here to help Adrien.

After that, she decides to see if the local heroes will say anything, meaning Cat Woman was about to make an appearance.

---------

Now, remember when I said Selina and Amelie know how to get what they want? Well, apparently being an utter annoyance works. Because Gabriel, begrudgingly and relunctantly, let Adrien stay with Amelie for a while (a while being like, 1-2 weeks). While she'd rather it be longer, she accepted the time she got. And rather than have Adrien come to her, she went to Adrien. She still needs answers, and she hopes Adrien will give them to her.

Amelie and Adrien end up staying at Le Grand Paris, where Amelie will later end up introducing Adrien to Selina, and it's where she admits the real reason to her visit.

Legally, as his other guardian, she can petition the court to have Adrien removed from Gabriel's care. But she can't do that without evidence. As much as she'd love to just take Adrien away, this was as close as she could get. And in order to do this, in order to give Adrien the proper home and care he deserves, she needs him to be honest with her. To tell her the truth. To give her the word that she was right to do this, that her intuition was correct.

And it takes a while, but eventually Adrien opens up as well. Admitting his own fears and the trapped feeling he had. The way that sometimes, sometimes it felt like he couldn't disobey. Literally couldn't. Like his mind and body would freeze before he did as he was told, even if he didn't want to. He told her about Gabriel's inspiration book, being pulled out of school for simply losing it. He told her about way Lila Rossi barged into his room, into his life, and how it was hard to breathe at times whenever she was around. He tells her about a "friend" who wouldn't listen to him, who's grown distant, and he can't help but feel like he did something wrong. He's backed off, respected what they wanted, apologizes if he flirts a bit too much or does something that might make them uncomfortable, but why is he the one doing all the work? Just to be met by the same response just about every single time??

He just wants to be a normal boy. Or, well, as normal as he can be. But everywhere he went, if his face wasn't plastered next to him on a bigger scale, then someone would recognize him and point him out, leading to more people coming over. And more people meant more photos and autographs, and less time for what he wanted.

He's tired.

He just wants it to stop, but it won't, and just about everyone he's met thinks his life is so... perfect. That he actually enjoys it. That the attention, and fame, and not going to school or being pulled out for a shoot was all amazing, but it isn't!!!

It's not amazing, it's not fun, it's not...what it used to be.

It was fun. It was amazing. He did enjoy it. But...

It doesn't matter. Not anymore.

And while Adrien has his doubts about the petition, Amelie sees this as a reason to double down. To not only continue but to win. Time limit be damned.

She had about 2 weeks at best, 1 at worst, but she'll manage.

---------

With Adrien in their corner, it was time for Selina to talk to the local heroes.

Or, hero, rather.

And wow, does she wish her fellow feline had been the one to show up.

Ladybug...

Ladybug was a bag of mixed messages.

Cat Woman didn't know where she stood.

She admits Gabriel is a bad father, but Adrien shouldn't go into his aunt's custody because he has a life in Paris??

She admits Adrien would be better off in someone else's care, but not the Graham de Vanily's because they'd be just as bad as Gabriel??

It's like she just wants him to stay. She gets defensive over her reasonings, her face going red when she does.

It feels so obvious to Cat Woman that Ladybug has a crush on Adrien, so her wanting him to stay seems more likely to do with her own wants and desires, rather than Adrien's.

Seeing this as getting them nowhere, the Gothamite leaves. Hopefully she'll run into Chat Noir later.

---------

As the days go by and more and more evidence is collected, the two women decide it's to hit Gabriel (metaphorically, although literally is also okay, maybe later tho). They gather everything they can, hire the best lawyers money can buy, and take Gabriel to court.

Now, he has a decision here.

Either he agrees with their terms once they win, quiet Gabriel, they're going to win, and everything will remain relatively hush hush. Out of the publics eye for as long as they can keep it.

Or!!

He fights them on this and they make everything public from the getgo. News reporters numbers are ready to be dialed, to both publish the stories they've been hired to write concerning what his own employees, including Adrien, had to say, and to come to the trial to cover it live.

Amelie is here to win.

She has a lot of people in her corner. People who are against Gabriel Agreste. People who aren't blind to a man's neglect.

She knows that as much as he'd rather keep this private, Adrien will let this go public. If it gets him out of that mansion, away from Gabriel and out of his job, he will let it go public.

And while a small part of her wished Gabriel decided to go public with it, a larger part of her felt relieved they were going private.

If for no other reason than Adrien's sake.

---------

It wasn't easy. Far from it.

Gabriel fought against every bit of evidence. Every testimonial. Claiming his employees who spoke against him were just bitter and resentful. That they simply didn't like him.

Day after day went by.

Every day felt repetitive but worth it in the end.

It was worth the sleepless nights where she had to reassure Adrien that this would work out. That even if it didn't this time, it won't stop her from trying again.

It was worth facing the man her sister "loved" and watch as his defenses crumbled. As his excuses became just that, excuses. How it became clear that he was negligent, absent, and unfit to be a father. How he was emotionally manipulative, holding things his son held dear above him, ready to punish him by taking them away, threatening him by taking away the small amount of normalcy he had and limiting the little contact he had with his friends. How little he cared, pushing and pushing his son into this mold of perfection that wasn't achievable.

It was worth the look on Gabriel's face when he lost. When the jury and the judge ruled in her favor. The look of resent and badly hidden hatred. One that said he hadn't lost the war, just this battle.

But whatever, he didn't matter.

Not anymore.

Amelie had a new son to take home.

---------

Introducing Selina and Adrien to each other went better than expected.

Amelie was glad her friend was able to talk with Adrien without either of them needing her to be there. And she was glad Adrien seemed willing to actually talk considering what had just happened. He'd spent most of the past few days talking with Felix over the phone and thinking about how to tell his friends about things without risking things. He still wanted some privacy and talking about going into his aunt's custody wasn't exactly something he wanted just anyone to know yet. Eventually, sure. But not right now.

Selina was so good to Adrien. Answering his questions and telling him about Gotham.

It was nice to see the two get along. She never knew Adrien's more mischievous side hadn't truly died out. There was this bond between the two that started soon after she introduced the two. Looks that were shared, Selina somehow knowing when Adrien needed a break.

It almost felt like...seeing Emilie and Adrien again.

Maybe...maybe Selina would be willing to do one last thing for her before she leaves. Something Adrien would have to be around for because it was just as much his decision as it was hers. It might not be something they immediately agree to, but she's sure that at the very least they'll consider it.

She loves Adrien and wants him to have a good life.

And maybe, maybe that means staying with the woman he's grown close to so quickly.

But that can wait for a bit. For now, she has a train to catch and a son waiting for her and his cousin turned brother at home.

---------

And that's a wrap for this prompt.

Some bonus info I wanted to add but couldn't (it just didn't really flow in the prompt as well, but can be added to the full story):

• I wanted to have more go on in terms of Selina gathering evidence, like actually having some dialogue bits where she's talking with someone. Bonus if that person was either the Gorilla or Natilie, who both definitely went against Gabriel.

• Adrien and Selina's bond is referring to them meeting for the second time as Chat Noir and Cat Woman. It's easy for Adrien to open up to her and decide to reveal who he is when she tells him she helped with the case. It was a spur of the moment decision, but he doesn't care. And since he revealed himself, Selina saw no reason to keep her own identity a secret.

• While they were short on time for the case, Adrien does end up in Amelie's care for almost a month (2 weeks in Paris and almost 2 weeks in London). She's technically still his guardian, Selina being his mom is something they finalize roughly by the time his class trip to Gotham is announced.

• Not gonna lie, if you can fit in Amelie and/or Selina hitting Gabriel somewhere, be my guest.

• Ladybug definitely wanted Adrien to stay purely because she has a crush on him. While she does admit to Gabriel's faults, she also wants Adrien to stay in Paris. This ultimately makes her kinda untrustworthy in Cat Woman's eyes.

• Some of the evidence held against Gabriel was absolutely blackmail. While nothing about him having a miraculous is revealed, the fact he was spying on his son was.

• The battle being won but not the war is referring to Gabriel being certain that Adrien will be back in his care once he makes his wish. It's why he agreed to being taken to court. Yes, he's upset he lost, but ultimately he's sure Amelie's small victory won't matter because his wish will change things in his favor.

• Some of the money used to hire lawyers was from Bruce Wayne, who had vague knowledge of what was going on since Selina told him. He trusted that she was doing the right thing but still kept an eye and ear open. He wasn't going to be mad that Selina tricked him if she did, just annoyed because it would the second time this week this happened and he had no desire for the "I told you so" he'd get from his kids and Alfred.

• This has nothing to do with this prompt but my last one: Adrien keeps his miraculous, as decided by two (2) people. I am, however, open to him changing his costume and name later on. I, personally, tend to go with Matagot, but I want to keep this open.

[arcastiel]

bloodlust ཐིཋྀ (vamp!sam x reader)

↳ synopsis: sam had been turned by a vamp during a hunt, and still was seeking a cure to become human again. in the meantime, you helped him out a little.

↳word count: 2,128

↳ cw: nsfw (MINORS DNI!!), smut, fem/afab!reader, mentions of blood/biting (but he doesn't actually bc he's very responsible <3), p in v (wrap it up!!), just un-proof read hot vamp sex

You pushed the key unceremoniously into the lock and twisted it, unlocking the door and allowing it to gently peel open. The hinges creaked as they churned, and you walked into a dark foyer. You kicked off your shoes and flicked the warm lights on, squinting slightly to adjust to the sudden brightness. You had a plastic bag slung around your forearm, filled with small tubs of animal blood from the butchers. You knew your order was less than orthodox, but the subtle glances of judgment from the butcher didn’t really bother you anymore- not when it was for Sam. You made your way to the kitchen, opening the fridge and placing the bag on the top shelf, noticing the last tub from a previous outing was now gone. Sam must have drank it while you were gone. 

He had been turned into a vamp during a hunt from a few weeks ago, and was still looking for a cure. Dean had taken hunts on solo since then, since he knew Sam wouldn’t be able to help much (and really, the whole baby-brother-turning-into-a-monster-thing had peeved him a bit). You had offered to stay behind and help, and at his request you made frequent visits to the butchers to gather pig and cow blood to avoid sourcing it from humans. You knew he was frustrated and that he felt disgusted with himself by his transformation. It didn’t bother you so much- you were a Twilight girlie growing up, after all- but you knew he was hurting and it made you upset to see.

As you pushed the door to the fridge shut, Sam appeared behind you, towering over you in jeans and black Carhart hoodie. You almost jumped at his sudden appearance, looking up into his light green eyes that were dim and accompanied by heavy dark circles, likely from his lack of sleep and limited diet.

“Hey. How you feelin’?” You asked, leaning against the fridge as he let out a sigh, leaning against the counter of the kitchen island behind him. 

“Fine. Thank you for getting… that.” He nudged his head to the fridge and you smiled, nodding your head.

“No worries. Find anything yet?”

“I found a possible lead. I’ll need to head out tomorrow to talk to some guy in Tuscan.”

“Tuscan huh?” You laughed. “Exciting stuff.”

“Yuh-huh…” Sam shook his head, and your smile dropped at his demeanor. He just looked so tired. You gently brought a hand to his shoulder, reaching up to give it a light squeeze and resting your palm there. 

“I’m sorry Sam. I know I keep saying that, but…” You trailed off, watching his hazy eyes flick to yours, and he put on his best smile.

“It’s okay, really. I’ll figure it out.” He assured you. You just sucked your teeth, knowing he wasn’t as ‘okay’ as he was putting on. You gave his shoulder another rub before your hand trailed closer into the crook of his neck, feather-light fingers delicately brushing the skin. He winced and looked away, straining his neck in the opposite direction. You could see two faint holes, scarred over with dead skin and still slightly red from when he was turned. You could feel his pulse slightly under your touch, heart palpitating in rapid succession.

“Y/N…” He whispered, almost a hiss. Something in his tone said you were playing with fire, and you knew he sometimes had trouble restraining himself when people got really close. You didn’t move, though, observing him cautiously under the dim glow of the overhead kitchen lights. You felt your own heart race, letting your natural curiosity fog your common sense that said stop, now. 

You got up on your tip-toes and craned your neck up towards him, eyes darting from his lips, to his eyes, to his lips again. “Can I-”

You were interrupted by the sudden feeling of his lips on yours, his hands grabbing on to your waist for dear life. You were taken aback, but melted into this kiss as it got hungrier and deeper. His hands were basically digging into your hips, and you moaned into his mouth. When he pulled away, both of you basically panting from lack of breath, his lust-blown pupils flicked down to your exposed neck. Your skin looked so pale and translucent in the light, veins slightly visible as your neck stretched upwards to match his height. A burning hot feeling traveled through his senses, and his grip on you somehow got even tighter in a way that would definitely leave bruises the next day. Every part of him itched, and he physically had to pull himself against the tides of temptation, biting his lower lip so hard it could’ve bled.

Instead of giving in, he grabbed you from under your legs and slung you over his shoulder in such a swift motion that you audibly yelped. You saw rooms go by in a flash, and before you knew it you were being tossed on Sam’s bed. You barely had time to sink into the mattress before he was all over you, lips traveling from yours to your cheeks, and then hovering right above your throat. You watched him squeeze his eyes shut and shudder a breath before skipping your neck and going straight for your chest, making quick work of yanking your top over your head and leaving you in a bra and jeans. You felt your heart racing in your chest, taken off guard (but not exactly hating) how unrestrained he was becoming as he fought his own urges to dig into you. Even with his roughness, he still occasionally looked up to you before making a move to make sure you were okay. His lips hungirly kissed and sucked over your exposed chest, making you instinctively buck your hips towards his. His hands flew to the strap of your bra before unhooking it in seconds flat, allowing the garment to fall loosely off in one quick pull. 

Your bra was tossed to the side, your breasts now bare and heaving to the pattern of your rapid breathing. He looked up at you with blown pupils, breathing just as heavy as you with his mouth slightly agape, allowing you to see his pointed canines- white and sharp, just inches above your skin. You knew that this was a terrible idea and one wrong move could turn you, too, but you were too needy to care. Feeling his weighted body above yours, his thick denim jeans creating friction between your own, your exposed chest nearly pressed against his muscular forearms… who cares if he bit you, you needed something. Now. 

Maybe mind reading was another vamp power you weren’t aware of, because his mouth moved back down to your chest and continued to kiss and suck. You felt your skin raise with goosebumps as the blend of cold from the exposure mixed with the anticipation building in your body, soft moans escaping your plush lips. As he kissed, he dug one hand under the waistband of your jeans, long fingers ghosting the outside of your thin panties. You gasped at his touch, his fingers slowly circling the fabric just outside of your core, causing a pool of wetness to gather and dampen the cotton. His lips never left your chest, mapping out your entire torso and leaving you with faint purple marks littered throughout your body. The finger circling your pussy was now solely focused on your clothed clit, eliciting louder moans from you as you squirmed and writhed underneath him.

"Sam..." You whined, overly sensitive to all of his touch. He looked up from your chest, and the look on your face... pink, puffy cheeks, lust-blown eyes, painted lips divided as you panted...

He basically growled, yanking his hand back out of your pants. You would have protested, if that hand wasn't joining the other two seconds later in hooking around the loops of your jeans and yanking them down your legs, discarding them at the same speed he had discarded your bra. He took his own hoodie and, in yet another swift motion, yanked it off effortlessly over his head. He unbuckled his belt and shucked his own jeans off in a way that made you wonder just how many secret powers vamps had- seriously, the speed was inhuman- leaving you both in underwear. He looked like he was about to devour you whole, biting his lip and staring down at your body like he was hunting, and was milliseconds away from going in for the kill. You had never really seen him so... hungry.

"Fuck, baby..." He mumbled lowly, reminding you that he could, in fact, speak. He ducked down and connected your lips again, this time pushing his tongue past your lips and exploring the rest of your mouth and his hands ran through your body, squeezing every curve and edge. Your tongue danced with his, and you could taste the irony flavor of blood that lingered from his previous meal. His hands were unrelenting, feeling you up and down, calloused fingers feeling up your plush breasts causing you to moan into his mouth. When you pulled away, his hand had wandered down to his waist, and had pulled his thick cock out of his boxers. His eyes never left yours, dark and lidded as he pumped himself a few times and coated his member with pre cum. As he prepped himself, his free hand connected back to your core and pushed your soaked panties to the side, causing you to hiss as the cold air hit your bare core.

You watched in anticipation as he lined himself up to your entrance before he gently pushed in, causing you both the moan as you became impossibly full. His forearms planted firmly by your sides as your back arched, hips bucking forward as your body reacted to his length. His pace started slow for all of ten seconds before he was slamming in and out of you, pornographic sounds filling the room as his patience thinned and ran out. You moaned and whined underneath him, his pace causing the bed to slam into the wall behind you and your tits to bounce with each thrust. His eyes were fixed on your neck again as it was completely exposed and straining while your head was thrown back in pleasure. Maybe you could've been mindful of his 'situation', but when he was railing you at superhuman force you weren't exactly thinking about anything else but the firework building in your belly.

While his cock was still buried in you, he leaned down and started kissing your neck, marking you with hickeys that became more and more deep as his hips snapped at a unrelenting pace. His teeth ghosted your throat, pointed canines pushing lightly into the soft, thin skin. He wanted to bite so, so bad that the mere thought of sinking his teeth into you was consuming him.

"So fucking pretty, I just wanna..." He growled, turning his neck to the side and painfully pulling himself away from your vulnerable neck. Your heart was racing from all the stimulation from his lips and dick, and you were nearing the edge fast.

"Fuck, I-" You couldn't finish the sentence, instead opting to bring your hands to his back above you and dig your nails into his flesh as he rammed into you. He groaned at the feeling, once again fighting his urges and pushing his forehead into the crook between your neck and shoulder.

"Cum for me." He hissed out, drawing you closer and closer until the firework building in your lower tummy exploded, causing your walls to tighten around him and cause him to finish, too. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your nails digging even more into his back as your body shook from the high. He whimpered into your shoulder, allowing himself to catch his breath and soften inside you, trying to calm himself down from all the physical restraint. You both laid there for what could've been minutes, just regaining your breath and recovering. When he finally pulled out of you, he rolled onto his side and stared at the roof, reaching over blindly to brush hair out of your face.

You leaned into his gentle touch- different from his desperation from moments ago- and smiled, almost laughing before breathily stating, "Your stamina right now is... Do we have to change you back?"

He rolled his eyes before looking back to your lidded eyes, watery from all the stimulation, a blissed-out smile dumbly lighting up your sweaty face. His annoyance instantly melted into admiration as he slowly peeled himself out of bed to get you both cleaned up.

"Uh, yeah, we do."

↳ a/n: my first post on this account- yay! did i see nosferatu and instantly get re-obsessed with vampires? ... yeah ... maybe... but anyways hope you all enjoy <3 to everyone who came from my other account @mizutsugi, thank you lovelies! i am so excited to keep posting here :) gonna go to bed and manifest vamp!sam now, night night

[dizzybevvie]

boy how do you reblog such great things

been cultivating my dash for years. i also found most of them in my drafts

[lovinglin]

I honestly need to discipline myself more to just, look away whenever I stumble on something I don't like.

[neo-nomatrix]

EAT IT UP !

HOW THE JJK MEN EAT P*$$Y

Multiple x reader

-> GOJO, NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, SUKUNA, CHOSO

warnings ⚠️ smut… duh. pussy eating… duh. 69 in getos. talks of bondage. talks of choking (on dick) overalll smut idk

GOJO SATORU AKA “kid in a candy store”

On his tummy, feet in the air, humming. His legs are swaying back and forth but you’re way too busy to notice. He’s looking up at you with those unmistakable eyes watching you fall apart on his skilled tongue. His hand use your thighs as handles and makes out with your sloppy, cute cunt. He’s trying to tease you but the words come out as gurgled mumbles since his mouth is basically superglued to you.

You’re throbbing on his lips and he slurps it up like honey. Sometimes he dips his fingers in but usually sticks with his mouth. Fucks his tongue inside of you and he’ll probably start gagging because of how far he gets. He has to hug your thighs when you cum because of how squirmy you get. Nips at your clit when it’s all sensitive and giggles.

“You’re so fucking cute squirming”

“Oh wow… feels that good huh?”

“Is this how it feels when you gag on my cock?”

NANAMI KENTO AKA “use me like a chair”

Wants all your weight on his face or else he’s not happy. And no- it’s not an option. Maybe you’ll suffocate him, but who’s to say that’s not the goal? He cups his hands around your thighs and pulls you down on him, immediately getting to work. He’s so sensual and romantic about it. Slowly licking from your entrance to your clit. Definitely kisses your clit before starting anything.

Gathers a whole bunch of spit before and globs it onto you. There should literally be bubbles when you get off of him. Tries his best not to snake his hand down his pants so he can focus on you. As much as he loves you grinding down on his face he always stops you. This is for him to do all he work, he should be making you feel so good you don’t need to think about grinding down.

“Let me do all the work, just sit there.”

“I know i’m hard, sweetheart. I’ll get to that later.”

“Stop hovering, do i need to tie you up?”

TOJI FUSHIGURO AKA “this is for him”

Even though it’s an activity meant to pleasure you, it’s for him. For him to melt away his worries into your sweet cunt. He uses it as a stress reliever, massaging your ass like a stress ball. will literally ask you why you were squirming so much, it disturbed his peace.

Never stops after you come. More flavor for him. Has you on your tummy, he’s spreading you apart and eating it. His hands are never still. Always running up and down your back or playing with the skin of your ass. Moves up to grope your tits and play with your sweet nipples.

“Put your face into the pillow and bite if it’s to much”

“You take my cock every day but my mouth is too much?” oh wait, that’s also too much

“Maybe i should leave some marks on this ass too.”

GETO SUGURU AKA “34 + 35”

SixtyNine KING. Can’t decide between being on bottom or top. On bottom he can get the pleasure of you sitting on his face. The only downside is your squirming with so much pleasure that you forget to suck his cock. He doesn’t care that much, eating you out is plenty of pleasure, but it would be nice. But he does hate it when your strokes get sloppy and they become borderline teasing.

On top he gets the added bonus of fucking your face. Thrusting in and out of your moaning mouth as much as he pleases. He loves hearing you choke while slurping you up. He just doesn’t like the blood going to his head while eating you out. He’s pretty simple when it comes to pussy eating. Loves to suck on your clit and use his fingers. Definitely makes you lick your own cum from his fingers. Finger fucks you until his hands are pruned.

“C’mon baby, at least stroke me baby. Look how hard he is for you.”

“I know it’s so much, huh?

“That’s fine, i’ll just throat fuck you with my cum soaked fingers,”

RYOMEN SUKUNA AKA “stop running”

Eats you out until you’re rolling around on the floor. And still keeps going. He hates it when you squirm, but also doesn’t do anything to stop it. Locks his arms around your thighs and presses a hand against your tummy. Sloppily eats your cunt with no technique. Spits soo much on it. The noises that come from your cunt and his mouth are insane. Dips his tongue real deep into your mess to get every drop.

Has you on the verge of passing out when you cum. And you guessed it, still won’t stop. He definitely pushes your thighs to your chest and wraps his arms around your whole body to keep you still. Loves it when you push on his head in desperation. It makes him so much harder.

“You keep fucking running and I’ll go for longer.”

“You’re only making it worse for yourself by squirming.”

“Fucking take it or I’ll make you.” yeah he definitely makes you

CHOSO KAMO AKA “kitten licks”

He eats you out like he’s scared. He’s so fascinated by your slippery pussy that he unintentionally goes super slow. Giving soft kisses to your clit and licking at your entrance like a popsicle. You have to tell him to go a little harder so it feels better. and once he does, no going back.

Starts to eat it like a starved man. He gets so mad he’s never done this before because he’s in heaven. Ruts his cock into the sheets because it feels so amazing. Moaning like a slut into your pussy. So much spit and his tongue is going wild on your pussy. He’s definitely making this apart of your routine.

“Oh my god it’s so wet baby.”

“Faster? but when i go faster with my cock you cry…”

“It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?”

[euthymiya]

The heater’s out. December’s cold is unforgiving as it seeps between the cracks of your doors and through the windows, forcing you to huddle closer.

Sukuna grunts as your freezing, icy feet press against his calves. “Your feet are fuckin’ cold. Get’em off.”

“No,” you whine, “You’re warm.”

Just to prove your point, you press them harder against his skin, making him hiss in irritation. “Quit it! It’s fucking freezing.”

“Yeah? Why are you wearing nothing but boxers in this cold, then?” You challenge, raising a brow as if you’ve sufficiently turned the tables on him. He glares at you—a bit cutely at that, given that his tussled hair and the blanket tucked beneath his chin both make him look far less intimidating than he hopes.

He pulls his legs away as he mutters, “Because I’m too used to sleeping like this.”

Your feet follow them as they move away from you, pressing them against his heated skin once more stubbornly. “To used to what, sleeping half naked? I wonder what that says about you.”

Money has been tighter. Enough that when you and Sukuna shower together, it really is to save water and not as an excuse for…well, other things. You don’t buy your little goods from the bakery on your way home sometimes anymore. He doesn’t go through his cigarette packs as quickly when stocking up on more isn’t as simple as it used to be. Things aren’t as easy as they used to be, but never hard.

It’s never hard with Sukuna.

Sure, the heater’s out. And December feels like a harsh, unrelenting reminder of that. The apartment is cold, but Sukuna is warmer, so maybe, when you count your blessings, you’re not doing all too bad.

“We should get the damn heating system fixed,” you say softly, smiling as he curls under the blanket further. He glowers over the edge of the comforter, just the tip of his nose peeking out as his muffled reply comes.

“Yeah, as if I hadn’t already thought of that. We ain’t got the funds, idiot.”

“Maybe I can pick up a few more shifts,” you murmur. He frowns at that—because really, that means more late nights where you’re not home where you should be. Safe and sound and not out there.

“Nah,” he mutters, clicking his teeth. You fight back a grin as he pulls you closer and tangles his legs with yours, grimacing when your painfully icy toes torment his poor legs again. This time he lets you, though. “I’ll figure something out.”

“That’s okay. You should use your money to get some clothes, or something. Sleeping naked in winter is not doing you any favors,” you giggle cheekily.

He raises a brow—that familiar, smug, almost nauseatingly handsome smile erupts across his lips as he chuckles lowly. “Yeah? You’re sayin’ you don’t appreciate the view?”

“Well, I guess that would be a pretty harsh loss,” you sigh deeply, pretending to wipe a tear. He rolls his eyes. You wink slyly. Heat trickles along your body from under your ribcage where the heating system could never reach.

“Cheeky, aren’t you?” He says gruffly, and a large hand comes to grab your face gently and press your cheeks together. Your puffed up lips make him crack a small smile.

“Mhm,” you nod, grinning (as much as you can through squeezed cheeks) before offering a muffled reply of, “I keep you on your toes, don’t I?”

“More like on my deathbed,” he snorts.

You don’t answer—it’s too cold to think of a reply right away.

You let out an involuntary shiver as a small wave of frigid, chilly air breezes through the room. You shuffle closer, and his arms are wide and open and waiting. He smells like cologne and coming home. Feels like warm flesh and your favorite place. You lean in and kiss him to share your body heat, pressing your lips against his and letting his tongue invade your mouth briefly. He tastes like mint mingled with cigarette smoke and oddly enough, that’s all you need.

“We kind of suck at this adulting thing,” you whisper as you pull away.

“What gives you that idea?” He hums as rough, callused fingers stroke the skin of your back under your shirt. You shiver again—this time from heat igniting your skin instead of the cold, though.

“We can hardly afford to stay warm,” you shake your head, “What does that say about us?”

“That we’re victims of this stupid fuckin’ economy. They should compensate us for our suffering.”

You roll your eyes and grin. You’re cold, but not devoid of heat. Sukuna is warm, and so are your toes against his calves, and so is that place in your chest that happens to do a squeeze here and there. You think it might be your heart—think he may have found his way to that weird, necessary organ in your body that keeps you going. But the difference is now that he’s here, you’re alive and not just living.

And yeah, the heater’s out. December is as cold as it is every year, and nothing’s going to change that. You can’t make yourself warmer, but you can be cold with Sukuna. That’s more than enough to make things bearable.

“I’ll keep you warm,” you offer, batting your lashes sweetly. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his cheeks in a flurry of kisses.

His face does a small, red flush.

“Quit it,” he snaps. He doesn’t mean it because his arms grip your hips tighter as if to keep you firmly in place. Right there where you are and where you belong and where he needs you to be.

You shouldn’t be anywhere else but here, keeping his body warm in this sorely harsh weather.

“Why? It’s already working—you’re overheating,” you tease.

He pulls the blanket up and between your faces to create a barrier as you come in for the next kiss, and when you laugh, bright and warm, he forgets he was ever cold.

————————————

Wrote this bc my place is freezing. Not because the heater is broken though it’s just because I’m too lazy to get out of bed and turn the heat up so I am suffering the same problem yes, but I do have a solution. That doesn’t mean the solution will be used though. I fear I am but just a girl

[nezuscribe]

you try not to get jealous. it does you no good. but sometimes you get a little miffed when it comes to how women treat your husband, arranged!gojo.

you see how the women giggle at him, how they bite their lips whenever he walks by. you see them giggle to each other, the way they try to catch his attention.

and though most ladies of the high society act this way, some of the servants around the estate, the women of the town, and others behave like this too.

they act as if he’s not married, as if that ring on his hand is purely for decoration. and sure, maybe a couple months ago it was for show but now things have changed and you don’t appreciate those ladies all that much.

and gojo notices.

he knows you’re getting better at talking to him about what ails you, but he also knows that it’s a a lot to get used to at once. he sees the way you tense up at their whispers, the glares you throw their way when you hear his name in their conversation. he understands because he’s the same as you, his feelings mirroring yours.

so he decides to comfort your worries a bit indirectly.

“what…” you whip your head around as gojo stops at a random spot in one of the hallways, taking you away from your tea time with shoko as he fails to give any explanation for his hurried responses, “what are you doing? you have that meeting with your counsel and-”

“missed you,” is all he’s able to say as he slams his lips onto yours, earning a surprised yelp in response.

your back hits against the stone wall, one of his hands against your head to protect it from bumping back as your gasp in surprise, letting him slide his tongue in your mouth as he sloppily kisses your lips.

“satoru, w-wait,” you try to stop yourself from whining out loud, your fingers cuing into his artic strands as his hands move down to hold your waist, “it’s daytime, p-people, people can come…” you can’t speak anymore because he doesn’t let you, lips slotting against each others as your eyes screw shut, heartbeat in your throat as he hands squeeze as your skin.

“i missed you,” he just repeats, nipping slightly at your bottom lip as you mewl, feeling his lips trail down your chin to your throat as you tilt you head upwards to give him a better angle.

you almost want to laugh because it’s only been hours since you’ve seen each other, but for gojo it feels like days since he’s seen you.

you peek slightly too look at him, see the way his lips attack your skin, sucking and biting, surely leaving marks as he makes his way down. you love the way his hair is slightly wavy, most likely from his bath after sparring.

you’re almost too intoxicated from his feverish kisses to notice the sounds of incoming footsteps, but the loud overbearing giggles is what pulls you back to reality.

you tense up, scrambling to push him away from you but he won’t budge. if anything, he seems to be motivated, moving back up to your lips to steal your words away.

“t-there’s people coming!” you try to warn him but he doesn’t seem to care, his blue eyes gleaming with a different look as your whine from one of his hands moving upwards to your chest, giving one of your breasts a light squeeze.

“so?” he murmurs, lips hovering against the corners of yours as his brow cocks upwards.

you go to say something else but he tilts your chin upwards to meet him, one hand balancing on the wall behind you, one on your hip, his hair messy from your fingers gripping at him.

you don’t feel like moving, too drunk off of him to even notice the ladies as they round the corner, not looking their way as you hear their squeals of shock, the way they try to hurriedly leave.

you glance slightly to the right as gojo moves back down to your neck to get a look at them, your fingers still tangled in his hair, one hand draped over his neck, squinting slightly as you remember their faces from last week, when you overheard them talking about your husband.

there’s a slight tilt in your lips as you hear their scrambled apologies, the way they try to leave as fast as they can. you try not to gloat too much in their looks of envy and jealousy.

and if you focused just enough, you could feel the smile on his lips.

“you missed me?” you ask a little breathless, a coy tilt to your voice.

“so much,” he mumbles as he glances up at you from his white lashes, his pupils blown wide, lips messy with spit, red and swollen as he presses a slopping kiss to the slight skin showing of your chest.

“you’re so immature,” you chide, trying to look away, the hide the bashfulness in your face but his hand cups your jaw, pulling your face back down to see his.

“they had to see for themselves,” he tells you, his voice wavering on something darker, “had to see who the only lady gojo is.”

and you smile, eyes a little hazy as your fingers slightly tug on his soft strands, reveling in the way his eyes roll back and his lips find their way back up to yours.

yeah jealousy wasn’t the best. but thank the gods your husband was just as petty as you.

[mywritersmind]

THEY DONT KNOW IT - LN4

summary : She’s a popstar who’s being oggled by the same grid who doesn’t believe Lando has a chance with her. In a simple quiet conversation, Lando fixes that.

listen up : lando norris x popstar!reader. mentions of sex. reader wrote bed chem!!

word count : 629

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“You hear who’s in the paddock today?” Oscar eyes Lando as he joins the group of drivers. They all look suspiciously giddy.

“No…?” Lando eyes them, It’s Carlos who’s grinning and speaks up first.

“Y/n L/n.” the spaniard whispers.

Lando raises a brow as Alex nods to his girlfriend talking to you, “She’s a super famous singer right? Lily loves her.”

“Very pop.” Charles adds in.

“Very hot.” Franco says as they all turn to him, “What? You were all thinking it.” a surge of jealousy goes through Lando. Obviously he knows people think you’re hot, he’s the fan club president. But Franco saying it makes him want to go over there and kiss you in front of the young driver.

Lando watches you move your hair behind your ear, assessing the little black dress you’ve got on. “Fuck.” is the only think Yuki can say.

“Hasn't she been to a couple races?” George adds, “For any reason or…” Lando wants to yell at them that you’re there for him.

“She’s a fan.” Charles says, “Hangs with Alex in the garage sometimes.”

You wonder if they know how obviously the group is looking at you. You turn and give them a little smile. Most of the guys look away except Lando, who waves.

“What the fuck?” Carlos makes a face.

“Dude-” Max laughs as Lando looks around at the group.

“What?”

“Give up now.” Alex shrugs.

“Excuse you?” Lando crosses his arms over his racing suit, “You think I don’t have a chance?” They all start laughing, “Fuck you, lot!”

Alex grins, “Don’t let netflix hear.”

Carlos slaps his hand onto his friends shoulder, “Mate… she’s just so- and you’re so… it’s not made to be.”

Lando just scoffs, “Don’t pout!” Max laughs, “I’m pretty sure she’s the only girl out of your reach.”

“You don’t know about Nadia?” Alex grins.

Max gives him a confused look but turns back to Lando, except when he does, he realizes he’s already gone and walking towards you.

You smile when you see Lando, he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in for a quick hug, “Hi.” His eyes linger on you before smiling kindly at Lily.

“I’ll be back, Y/n. Lando keep your distance.” She points to the driver before walking away.

“The guys don’t think I have a chance with you.” He whispers into your ear, his hand still on your waist.

You laugh a bit, glancing at the men who are all staring at you two. “So naive.” he laughs a bit, tilting his head down.

A curl goes into his face and you resist the urge to push it back. “I’m happy you’re here.” this makes your cheeks go a bit pink. Funny, you’ve been sleeping together for months and he can say the tinest thing to get you to blush.

“I’m happy I'm here too. Win for me?”

“What do I get if I do?” His hand backs off your waist a bit, clearly aware of the eyes on you.

You look up at him, his eyes greener than ever, “Whatever you want?”

His brows go up, “Whatever?”

The corner of your mouth quirks, “Within reason.”

“Not much reason between the two of us.” You roll your eyes and back away from him so you’re no longer touching.

“Go run back to your friends and giggle about how a pretty girl kissed you.”

“But you didn’t-” He gets cut off by your lips on his cheek. He’s grinning ear to ear as you walk away, waving a bit.

When Lando walks back to the guys they’re gobsmacked, “Tell me you didn't just meet her today.” Charles practically pleads.

He laughs at their faces, “Have you ever heard the song, bed chem?”