#sorry for taking so long on answering this!

[yois2aki]

wc. 0.8k

the front door slammed shut.

you flinched slightly at the sound, looking up from where you had been curled on the couch, a book resting in your lap.

caleb stood in the entryway, shoulders tense, his uniform jacket barely hanging onto his frame. he didn’t even bother to take off his gloves, his fingers clenched at his sides like he was barely keeping himself together.

you knew that look.

something had happened.

something bad.

“…caleb?” you called softly.

he didn’t answer.

instead, he exhaled sharply, storming past you and heading straight for the kitchen. you heard the sound of the fridge opening, the clatter of a bottle being pulled out.

you set your book aside, worry twisting in your stomach as you stood up and made your way toward him.

“hey,” you tried again, keeping your voice gentle. “what happened?”

he didn’t look at you.

“nothing.”

you frowned. “it’s obviously not nothing—”

“drop it.”

his tone was sharper than usual, almost a growl.

you hesitated.

caleb never talked to you like that.

you watched as he leaned against the counter, tilting his head back to take a long sip from the bottle in his hands. his jaw was clenched, his violet eyes dark with frustration, his entire body radiating tension.

he was seething.

something must have gone really wrong at work.

but that didn’t mean he could shut you out like this.

“…caleb, please,” you said quietly, stepping closer. “talk to me.”

he slammed the bottle down.

the sound made you jump.

caleb finally turned to you, his gaze sharp, his expression pulled tight with something unreadable.

“what do you want me to say?” he snapped. “that everything went to hell today? that i wasted an entire mission because someone on my team couldn’t follow orders? that i had to stand there and watch people get hurt because of a mistake i couldn’t control?”

you swallowed.

he wasn’t just frustrated. he was furious.

but it wasn’t just at the situation.

it was at himself.

“caleb, it’s not your fault—”

“isn’t it?”

his voice was harsh, biting, like he was daring you to disagree.

you faltered, unsure how to reach him like this.

he had been upset before—frustrated, annoyed, even angry—but never like this.

never so sharp.

never so cold.

“…i know you’re upset,” you said carefully, “but don’t take it out on me.”

caleb stiffened.

his eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe—but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head.

“forget it,” he muttered. “i need to cool off.”

he turned to leave, but something inside you twisted, something heavy and aching that refused to let him walk away like this.

“caleb.”

your voice wavered slightly.

he paused.

“…don’t shut me out.”

he didn’t move.

for a moment, there was only silence, stretching between you like a fragile thread.

then, finally—

his shoulders slumped.

the tension bled out of him all at once, like the fight had drained from his body completely.

“…damn it,” he muttered under his breath.

before you could say anything else, he turned back around and pulled you into his arms.

it wasn’t a soft embrace.

it was desperate. needy. like he had been holding himself together with nothing but sheer force of will, and the moment he touched you, he broke.

his fingers curled against your back, gripping onto you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

“…i’m sorry,” he breathed, voice rough with exhaustion.

your heart ached.

you wrapped your arms around him, holding him just as tightly, resting your cheek against his chest.

“i know,” you murmured. “it’s okay.”

he let out a shaky breath.

neither of you moved for a long time.

the storm inside him hadn’t passed completely—but at least now, he wasn’t facing it alone.

[luveline]

omg post prison Spencer and concussed!shy girl….I would go feral I fear

“I’m gonna be sick again,” you whine, covering your eyes with both of your hands. The nausea roils and the pain in your head reaches a new crescendo. You moan without thinking about it, worse when someone grabs a hold of you from behind. 

“Don’t bend!” he says, not shouting but not happy with you either. “You aren’t going to be sick again if you stay sat up. I know it hurts, but you’re making it worse.” 

Spencer’s strict voice isn’t one you’re used to. An embarrassed flush rushes over you, quick to cry ‘cos you’ve wanted to for hours. 

“Sorry,” you mumble tearily, slouching back into your seat with a wince. 

“Oh, angel, please don’t cry again.” 

“I’m not.”

“I’m not angry with you, I just need you to listen, because being sick like this isn’t good for you, and you’re gonna feel sick again if you bend over. It’s your head, angel. It’s the inertia.” 

You shuffle across the couch to flop against his chest. It’s a desperate move; if he doesn’t hug you, you’re going to start crying for sure, so you’re begging him to hold you without having the courage to say it out loud. “Sorry,” you say. 

“It’s okay.” Hands wrap around you immediately. “Don’t be sorry. Just stay like this for a bit, until the nausea stops. Please.” 

You’d love to stay there. You can smell the black coconut soap he uses on his skin, rubbing your nose into his neck and taking obvious breaths. 

Spencer pats your back, saying, “Good, take a breather.” He sounds surprised, but when you glance up at him he isn’t panicking or moving. He’s closed his eyes. His hand is on the small of your back.  

You hit your head so hard the very first thing that happened was the wave of vomiting. It just… didn’t end. And for a while all you could think about was nothing, just being sick and crying and a hand on your back, eventually traded for colder ones, bright white lights and strangers asking how you were feeling. You couldn’t not defer to Spencer, not really sure if he was Spencer in a permanent sense but aware intrinsically that he was to be trusted to answer for you. 

Your brain is shaken, then stirred. 

“If I give you a pill, do you think you can keep it down? It’s okay if you can’t. Honest answer,” Spencer murmurs. 

“I don’t know.” 

“An anti nausea pill you need to swallow isn’t exactly mankind’s best invention.” He cradles the nape of your neck, then, sounding more on your side than anyone ever has. “I wish I could fix it.” 

“You should’ve put your brain to work for science,” you say agreeably, “you can fix anything. Big pharma are lucky you chose to catch the bad guys instead.” 

“I meant your concussion.” You can barely hear him, and at the same time, it’s like he’s speaking into your marrow. 

“You did fix that,” you say, tipping your head back to see him. “You took me to the doctor.” 

He smiles. “Yeah, I did, but you’re still sick and hurting.” 

It’s not that bad in Spencer’s arms. You had dreams like this, daydreams and sleeping, where he’d wrap you up and comfort you after some hurt, but you’re struggling to remember what made it feel as painful as it did at the time. Spencer felt far away. Now he’s right here. You curl your arm behind his neck to be squished together, tight tight tight. Spencer actually groans. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“No, m’not in pain. I can’t remember the last time I got to hold you like this for so long.” 

“I don’t know why.” 

“I do, and it’s okay. I know why you get freaked out. I’ll never rush you. I don’t mind. But I feel guilty ‘cos I’m enjoying this and you’re in pain.”

It’s a dull throb in the skull. You can barely feel it. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. 

“I’m confused.” 

“That’s a common theme tonight.” 

“You feel guilty ‘cos I’m hugging you?” 

He covers your eyes with his hand. You laugh at first, but it’s oddly nice. Warm, dark. The throbbing pain ebbs a bit. 

Spencer can feel you relaxing against him. He’s all warmth and smell and sound under your ear. Exhaling, humming, the sound imbued with a fondness you don’t understand. His chest is solid under you, his hair begging to be touched where it flirts with his shoulders, the slopes and lines of him a tactile wonderland for your greedy hands: you want to feel everything. You haven’t the faintest clue as to why you weren’t allowing yourself the privilege before. 

“I just need you to get better fast,” he says, breathless. “That’s all.” 

“I am trying my best.” 

Spencer rubs a thumb over one of your eyebrows, start to end. “And you’re so, so good at it,” he says. 

You aren’t concussed enough to miss the lightly mocking coo of it. But you don’t care. Your nose drags up the line of his neck clumsily, in what you hope says tease me more, but more likely says concussive brain injury, second degree. 

[rizzanon]

Babysitter

a damian wayne and batsis! reader oneshot ft. jon kent | m.list

Summary: your brother forces you to take him and his bestfriend along with you to wherever you’re going

You had a plan. A flawless, well-thought-out, foolproof plan.

Step one: Move quietly.

Step two: Avoid creaky floorboards.

Step three: Do not alert Damian Wayne, resident bloodhound.

You had your hand on the doorknob, your shoes were on.

You had one foot out the door. No one in sight. Freedom just within reach—

“Going somewhere?”

Your whole body froze.

Goddamnit it.

You knew that voice.

You closed your eyes, inhaled sharply through your nose, and prayed to whatever higher power was listening that maybe—just maybe—if you ignored him, he’d disappear.

No such luck.

A second voice, softer but just as damning, followed.

“Uh, I told him we should just let you go, but…”

You sighed. Of course.

With a slow turn, you met the unimpressed stare of Damian Wayne, standing in the dim hallway like the world’s smallest, most judgmental security system. His arms were crossed, his expression far too smug for someone who had no business being awake right now. And right beside him, slightly hunched and looking far too apologetic, was Jon Kent.

You stared at them. They stared back.

Finally, you spoke.

“I knew I should’ve left through the window.”

Jon winced. “Sorry. Again, I did say we should just let you go—”

“But he didn’t,” you deadpanned, shooting a look at Damian.

Damian tilted his head, unbothered. “Because you’re sneaking out.”

You scoffed. “I am not sneaking out—”

“You’re leaving without me. That’s the same thing.”

“It is not—”

“Semantics.”

You groaned louder. “Oh my God, I hate you.”

“Likewise,” Damian said flatly.

Jon, still watching this exchange like a confused referee, hesitantly raised a hand. “I feel like I should stop this.

At the exact same time, without missing a beat, you and Damian both turned to him and snapped—

“You stay out of this.”

Jon immediately took a step back, hands up in surrender. “Ah. Alright.”

You dragged a hand down your face, inhaling slowly before fixing your glare on Damian again.

“So,” you said, voice strained, “what do you want, Damian?”

Damian ignored your question. “Where are you going?”

You deadpanned. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Wrong answer.

“Tt. Incorrect. It is my business, because you’re taking us with you.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“No, yeah, I heard you. I just don’t think I should have.”

Jon stepped in, looking a little apologetic. “Sorry, he kinda roped me into this,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

You gave him a flat look before turning back to Damian. “And why, exactly, would I do that?”

“To accompany you.”

“Why?”

“You require supervision.”

You stared.

“…I require— Damian, I’m older than you.”

“By an unfortunate number of years, yes.”

You inhaled sharply, clenching your fists. “I don’t need supervision, you little gremlin.”

Jon cleared his throat. “To be fair, I think he means he needs supervision.”

You stared. “You require— Damian, you’re forcing me to babysit you?”

“Tt. Babysit is a strong word.”

“That’s literally what’s happening.”

“I prefer guardian escort.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Yet here we are.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply before muttering, “Where’s Alfred?”

“Out.”

“Dick?”

“Busy.”

“Tim?”

“Comatose, most likely.”

“Cass?”

“Training.”

“Jason?”

“Wouldn’t care.”

Your eye twitched. “And Dad?”

Damian raised an unimpressed brow.

“…Right,” you muttered.

Jon shot you another apologetic smile. “So, uh… that just leaves you?”

You let your head fall back with a long, suffering groan. “You are not going out with me.”

“And you’re supposed to be grounded.”

“That’s why I’m sneaking out, dipshit.”

There was a brief silence.

Damian let out a long, dramatic sigh, like you were the most exhausting person alive. “You continue to delude yourself if you think you’ll be able to succeed in sneaking out.”

“I hate you.”

Jon cleared his throat. “Um—”

Your expression softened immediately as you turned to him. “Not you, Jon. You’re fine. You’re good. Damian’s the problem.”

Jon blinked. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a tiny, bashful smile, cheeks just a little pink.

“Oh. Uh. Thanks?”

Damian, meanwhile, squinted. “What the hell?”

You ignored him, turning back to Jon. “See? This is how you behave, Damian. Maybe take notes.”

Damian’s scowl deepened. “I am nice.”

You snorted. “To who?”

“To you.” Damian snapped, like it was obvious.

Jon let out a tiny, poorly suppressed laugh.

You shot him a look. “Jon. Don’t encourage him.”

“Sorry,” Jon said, not looking sorry at all.

Damian scoffed. “So where are you even going?”

“Out.”

“Not without us.”

You stared. “No. Absolutely not.”

Damian just blinked.

Jon shuffled a little, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. “I mean… if you don’t want us to come, that’s okay, I guess…”

And there it was.

The puppy-dog eyes.

You winced.

Damn it.

Jon Kent had mastered the art of looking genuinely dejected, and it was so unfair.

You hesitated. Pressed your lips together. “…It’s not that I don’t want you to come, it’s just—”

“Great,” Damian interrupted. “Then let’s go.”

You groaned. “That’s not what I meant—”

“You’re not exactly convincing me otherwise.”

“I will fight you.”

“I will win.”

Jon coughed. “This feels counterproductive.”

You shot him a betrayed look. “Jon. I thought we were friends.”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “I do want to go, though…”

Your eye twitched. You knew he was being genuine. But damn, he was dangerously good at making you feel so mean. You sighed heavily, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers.

“I hate being the responsible one.”

Damian smirked. “Then be irresponsible and take us with you.”

You snapped your head back down to glare at him. “That’s not how this works, moron.”

Jon stifled a laugh.

Damian just tilted his head, completely unfazed. “Yet here we are.”

You clenched your jaw. Closed your eyes. Took a very deep breath.

Then, begrudgingly—

“Fine.”

Jon brightened. “Really?”

You shot him a look. “Not like I have a choice, apparently.”

Damian’s smirk widened, victorious.

“But there are rules.”

You pushed the door open, already regretting everything. “One: No causing trouble. Two: No running off. Three—” You turned sharply to glare at Damian. “No murder.”

Jon blinked. “That has to be a rule?”

You looked at him, dead serious. “You’d be surprised.”

Damian scoffed. “You act as if I lack self-control.”

“You literally tried to stab a man at the grocery store last week.”

“He cut in line.”

“You pulled out a knife, Damian.”

“And?”

Jon looked as if he was used to this.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You are literally going to be the death of me.”

“Unlikely,” Damian deadpanned.

Jon patted your arm sympathetically. “It’s okay. Breathe.”

“I don’t want to breathe.”

“Understandable, but necessary.”

Damian scoffed. “Are you done yet?”

“Oh, I’m done,” you muttered, pushing open the door. “So done.”

And with that, you stepped outside, the two boys following close behind.

This was going to be a long day.

The night air was crisp, Gotham’s usual symphony of distant sirens, honking cars, and murmured conversations blending into the background as you walked down the quiet streets. The dim glow of streetlights cast long shadows across the sidewalk, but your focus was on the two boys trailing beside you.

Jon was practically buzzing with excitement, barely able to keep himself from skipping as he shot off rapid-fire questions.

“So, what were you going to do?”

You hummed. “What do you think I was gonna do?”

Jon tilted his head. “Go fight bad guys?”

You chuckled. “Nope.”

“Scout for intel?”

“Nope.”

“Secret mission?”

“Jon,” you laughed, ruffling his hair. “Hold your horses, kid. We’re doing nothing of that sort. Not when I’m around.”

Jon pouted but grinned anyway, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. “Well, then what are we doing?”

Before you could answer, you caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of your eye.

Damian.

The boy had taken two steps to the side, eyes locked on the nearest alleyway, looking entirely too ready to vanish into the night.

“Oh, hell no.”

You reached out, snagging the back of his hoodie and pulling him to a halt.

“That goes for you too, mister,” you said, voice firm.

Damian let out an audible groan. “Tt.”

Jon blinked, confused. “Uh—what exactly was he about to do?”

“Disappear into the shadows”

Jon turned to Damian, frowning. “Dude.”

Damian merely sniffed, looking vaguely offended at the idea that he of all people needed babysitting. “I was merely about to scout the area for any dangers.”

You gave him a flat look. “We’re on a sidewalk, Damian.”

“And?”

You exhaled sharply. “You are not ditching me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“Tt. You have no proof.”

“I have a brain.”

Jon held up a finger. “Technically, that’s not proof—”

You turned to him, exasperated. “Jon.”

“Right, right, sorry.”

Damian crossed his arms, unimpressed. “So, what are we doing?”

You just smiled.

Luxurious. That was the only word for the place you were in.

Soft, ambient lighting filled the space, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. The gentle sound of water trickling from an ornamental fountain mixed with the low, soothing hum of instrumental music playing from hidden speakers. A faint scent of lavender, eucalyptus, and something faintly citrusy hung in the air, lulling your body into relaxation almost instantly.

You let out a slow sigh, sinking further into the plush lounge chair as the nail technician expertly shaped your nails. Across from you, Jon was already wrapped up in a fluffy white robe, a cooling face mask spread across his skin, and a woman massaging his shoulders. He looked blissful.

Damian, on the other hand, was sitting stiffly in a massage chair, arms crossed, looking like he was being subjected to cruel and unusual punishment. His expression was set into a deep scowl, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders had started to relax under the therapist’s touch—albeit reluctantly.

You smirked, wiggling your fingers as the technician moved on to buffing your nails. “Well?”

“Tt.”

Damian’s eyes were shut as if that alone could block out his misery. “You dragged us to a spa.”

You grinned. “I treated you to a spa.”

Damian let out another Tt.

You turned to him, amused. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

Damian scowled. “I don’t see the point.”

“The point,” you drawled, stretching your legs, “is relaxation.”

“I don’t need relaxation.”

“You literally live with Bruce Wayne. You need it the most.”

Jon let out a snort of laughter.

Damian shot him a glare. “Shut up, Kent.”

Jon just grinned wider, looking far too content. “Nope.”

You chuckled, letting your head fall back against the chair. “Face it, Damian. You like it here.”

“I hate this.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I loathe you.”

You didn’t miss the way his shoulders had slowly started to loosen.

Or the way his scowl wasn’t as deep as before.

“You love me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Jon let out a happy sigh, sinking deeper into his chair. “I knew you had a good plan.”

You shot him finger guns. “Always do.”

Jon chuckled, then suddenly let out a little noise of contentment as the massage therapist pressed into his shoulders just right. He melted into the chair, the sheer bliss evident on his face.

“Aww,” you cooed, reaching over to gently pat his head. “Look at you, kid. Living the life.”

Jon made a happy little noise in response, fully leaning into the massage.

Damian scowled. “Are you coddling him?”

“Yes,” you said immediately.

Damian scoffed. “Ridiculous.”

You smirked. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you like to be coddled?”

Damian’s entire face twisted into disgust. “Absolutely not.”

You laughed, nudging Jon. “See? He’s jealous.”

Jon barely opened one eye, too relaxed to care. “Yep.”

Damian turned his glare to him now. “Shut up, Kent.”

Jon just smiled. “Just saying the truth, Damian.”

“You wish.”

You stifled a laugh, watching Damian attempt to shrink further into his chair, clearly regretting ever coming along. You were definitely going to remind him of this later.

The spa had been a fantastic idea—well, for you and Jon, at least.

Damian? Not so much.

At first, he acted as if he were enduring actual torture. When they tried to give him a robe, he scowled as if they’d offered him poison. When they led him to the massage chair, he sat down stiffly, arms crossed, eyes darting around as though expecting an assassination attempt. The moment the massage therapist placed their hands on his shoulders, his entire body locked up.

“This is unnecessary,” Damian muttered as you and Jon stifled your laughter.

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, leaning back as a technician buffed your nails. “Completely unnecessary. That’s why you’re staying right there and relaxing.”

“I am always relaxed.”

You and Jon shared a look.

Jon, his face already covered in a cooling mask, turned toward Damian. “Dude, your entire body is clenched like a steel beam.”

“Tt. I am merely prepared.”

“Prepared for what? A surprise attack by the scented candles?” you teased.

Damian glared at you, but then the massage therapist hit a particular spot on his back, and you swore you saw his soul briefly leave his body. His lips parted slightly, eyes fluttering for a split second before he forcibly locked himself down again, pretending nothing had happened.

“Oh my god,” you grinned. “You liked that.”

Damian turned his head away, nose upturned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But he did shift ever so slightly to let the massage therapist work deeper into his back. You and Jon exchanged victorious smirks but wisely didn’t comment further.

Well—except for Jon’s quiet, “Told you you’d like it.”

Damian kicked him under the table.

After a tedious amount of time, Damian had finally let himself relax. Not entirely—he was still Damian, after all—but enough that he no longer looked like he wanted to eviscerate someone.

Jon, meanwhile, had been living the dream since the moment you arrived. You’d made sure to book an extensive package for him, complete with a massage, a face mask, a manicure, and even a foot scrub.

The problem?

Jon’s Kryptonian genes.

The poor spa technicians had no idea what they had signed up for.

It started when they tried using a gua sha stone on his face.

The second they dragged the tool across his cheek, there was a horrifying screech—the sound of something hard scraping against something impenetrable.

The esthetician froze, blinking at the gua sha in her hand.

Jon winced. “Uh…”

Then she tried again. More forcefully.

SCCCRRREEEEEEE—

Damian cringed as the sound echoed through the room, making your ears ring. “That is unbearable.”

“I—I don’t think it’s supposed to sound like that,” Jon said weakly.

The esthetician, determined, switched to a jade roller.

The exact same thing happened.

“Okay,” the woman murmured, frowning. “We’ll, uh, circle back to that.”

Then came the body scrub.

Which was supposed to be exfoliating.

Except the scrub was doing nothing.

Jon, ever the polite one, just smiled sheepishly as the technician literally pushed down with all her strength, trying to get some kind of reaction.

“…You don’t feel anything?” she asked, breathless.

“Uh.” Jon paused. “I mean. It’s kinda nice?”

Damian looked deeply entertained. “This is absurd.”

You nudged him. “You’re absurd.”

“Tt.”

Then came the nail buffing.

Oh, the nail buffing.

The technician tasked with filing Jon’s nails was genuinely putting her whole body into it. You could see her arm muscles flexing as she went back and forth, desperately trying to shape his nails with an emery board that had already worn down to nothing.

At one point, she wiped her forehead. “Are you sure you’re not wearing, like… armor?”

Jon laughed nervously. “Nope, this is, uh, all-natural.”

The woman blinked. Then, deciding to just accept that reality was being weird today, simply nodded.

“Alright,” she said. “We’ll… figure something out.”

Jon beamed. “Thanks!”

You patted his head. “Good job, buddy.”

Jon grinned. “I think this is nice.”

And truly, it was. You were finally getting a break, Damian had sort of warmed up to the experience, and Jon was having the time of his life.

It was peaceful.

It was relaxing.

It was exactly what you needed.

So, of course, something had to go wrong.

The peace was shattered by the sound of screaming outside.

Your head snapped toward the spa entrance just in time to see a group of civilians running past in a panic. Then—explosions.

And the unmistakable whir of something mechanical.

You bolted upright.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Jon was already standing, ripping the robe off and revealing his Superboy costume underneath.

Damian, meanwhile, pulled a full Batman move by seemingly materializing his utility belt and weapons out of nowhere.

Before you could even say anything, the two boys were gone—leaping straight out the spa’s open balcony.

You turned to the wide-eyed spa staff, letting out a long sigh.

“Boys being boys, am I right?” You forced a smile, desperately trying to cover up the awkwardness of the situation. “They’re die-hard fans for action. Can’t help themselves.”

For a brief moment, the room was silent as the estheticians exchanged confused glances.

Then, in the most awkward and abrupt way possible, you scrambled to grab your purse, fumbling around as you threw an absolutely ridiculous sum of cash onto the counter—enough to more than cover the treatments, plus a hefty tip for the staff that definitely deserved more than a little credit for surviving this spa chaos.

The technicians just stared at the money, stunned into silence.

You didn’t stick around for questions.

You bolted after the two boys—still wrapped in your robe, your hair tied up in a towel, and your face mask half-finished.

You were praying—praying—that the day would somehow not end up on the news—though you knew full well that was already a lost cause. But hey, at least you were going to have one heck of a story to tell.

You finally made it to the street corner, and saw Amazo-tech robots rampaging through the streets, blasting apart cars and sending civilians running. Jon was in the air, flying between them, lasers shooting from his eyes as he took them down one by one. Damian was on the ground, expertly maneuvering around, slicing through the robots’ weak points.

You were impressed.

But you were also trying not to yell at the two boys.

Because Damian was still wearing his spa robe over his Robin suit.

And Jon still had his facial mask on.

“Just once,” you muttered to yourself, laughing despite the absurdity. “Just once, I want a normal day out.”

But then again, in Gotham, that was never going to happen.

The Batcave had never felt so… tense. The lights flickered above, casting shadows that seemed to mirror the dark expressions of the adults standing before you. You, Damian, and Jon stood side by side, feeling the weight of their scrutiny.

Bruce was standing at the forefront, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes narrow and calculating. Alfred, behind him, looked as if he were about to take away all your privileges for the rest of your lives. Clark had one hand over his face, clearly trying to stifle an impending headache, while Lois had her fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to explode in frustration.

The silence stretched on, suffocating. Then, finally, Bruce spoke, his voice quiet but stern.

“So,” he said, voice level. “Would you care to explain yourselves?”

Before you could even open your mouth—

“It was her idea,” Damian said immediately, pointing at you.

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me—”

He met your glare with a simple, “You were the adult in charge.”

You gaped at him. “Oh, so now I’m the adult?! When I was paying for the spa day, you were more than happy to—”

“Tt.”

“Don’t you ‘Tt’ me, you little shit..!”.”

Bruce let out a long, suffering sigh.

Jon cleared his throat. “It all worked out, though. We saved the day, didn’t we?”

The adults all exchanged a look, their faces unreadable for a moment. Lois then shakes her head and pulled out her phone, tapping something before showing the screen.

It was a photo.

A civilian had snapped a very clear picture of the battle—showing Robin, still in his spa robe, kicking an Amazo-robot in the face while Superboy, face still covered in a facial mask, was mid-air punching another.

It was already trending.

Jon looked at it.

Then, sheepishly, he shrugged.

“…It was nice...?”

Clark just let out a hearty chuckle.

“Well, it’s a memorable way to save Gotham. At least you three enjoyed yourselves.” he said, earning a small chuckle from Lois.

Bruce closed his eyes, clearly questioning his life choices. He rubbed his temples as Lois and Clark just share a look. “….We will discuss this later. Go and get yourselves cleaned up.”

It’s safe to say that your grounding just got a whole lot longer.

i had this as a scene to write for undoing fate but it didn’t quite fit into it as much as i’d like it to so it became a oneshot outside of it instead (completely unrelated to undoing fate but you can imagine it happening between chapter 7-9 when they’re posted lol) but hope you guys enjoyed this 🫶

taglist (open): @k1arar3 @kingshitonly @rainnyydaysworld @ceridwyn3 @darkfaethedestroyer @blueiones @strwberryglass @lithiumval @thephantomdanny @eli-mayhaveatencats @rockyeatrock @dreaming-of-the-reality @shirp-collector-of-fixations @gneepgnorpsneepsnorp @skerbablo @dind1n @gwyneveire @yukixies @kristalag @greantii | ask to be added <3

[shadesofjinx]

Answering all of these because I have truly nothing to hide!

1. What are 4 tabs you have open on your browser right now?

swim team membership page, one of my own fanfics on ao3, my ao3 bookmarks, my dining hall’s daily menu

2. Have you ever thought about seriously harming someone?

Yes, my abusers:) and also because of intrusive thoughts and those being super horrible bc of certain traumas

3. How are you feeling emotionally right now?

Pretty damn good. I feel lucky, where I’m in college rn is pretty quiet and I feel like I’m in a bubble and privileged enough to not be dealing personally with the backlash of trumps administration here but I do my best to spread info around for those who need it

4. What type of place(like building) are you in right now?

My college dorm room / dorm building

5. Does anyone know your deepest, darkest secret?

Well no, not yet at least. There are some things in the past that are so fucked up we’d just rather go to the grave with it but we may get the courage to tell our therapist these things

6. Have you ever tried to feign mental illness for personal gain?

Thank God no, you heard it here first we haven’t ever done that

7. Do you have any enemies?

Donald trump, my abusers, and the American healthcare system that personally failed me <3

8. Do you have people you only pretend to like?

Absolutely not?? The people who pretend to like others are fake as fuck I’m sorry (not including people who are genuinely unlikable re: terrible people). I’ve been the victim of this several times and it hurts very much so don’t be that kind of person, be genuine in your connections or else you won’t wake up tomorrow:))

9. What is one item you never let anyone look at or in?

The one sex toy I have . Prettyyy self explanatory

10. Do you have any talents people say you have but you don’t actually have?

My dad likes my singing and I never believed I had the potential to be a singer or be in a choir (I thought my singing sounded horrible) but now I am and my choir teacher has been very encouraging I love her!! My singing has already gotten a lot better

11. Something you like that apparently other people don’t like?

Cats. A lot of people I used to know, key word used to were avid cat haters and I was not here for that

12. Are you a virgin?

Somewhat unfortunately. I say that cuz sex would be great but we have sexual trauma so go figure

13. Is there anyone your grandma would hate that you’re subscribed to on YouTube?

Yes, Tommyinnit cuz he swears quite a bit, and DanandPhilGames because both are out queer men who live together and she’s homophobic and conservative

14. Introvert or extrovert?

Bruh I mean I’m autistic so introvert I guess but i prefer to be alone unless I’m with my bestie

15. Most used app on my device?

Chrome because use it to read ao3

16. How much fanfiction have you actually read?

Good question! I don’t know! But I’ve been on that site for 4 years and have let’s see 81 pages of ao3 history

17. Worst Fears?

Deep water, touch (in some instances), dying alone, dying unmarried, heights (I say as if I’m not a rock climber and also want to go bungee jumping but it’s ok I’m an adrenaline junkie so the fear and potential adrenaline cancel out)

18. Biggest mistake you’ve ever made?

Trusting certain people in my past 👍🏻

19. Worst lie you’ve ever told?

When my brother was stalking me online for years and found out that my therapist and I thought I had DID at the time (diff therapist, now diagnosed with DID with specialist) and I lied to his face (that I didn’t have DID) for my own safety

20. Do you consider yourself a trustworthy person?

Pretty much yeah I’m not good with like positive secrets (like a surprise party, I’d just get too excited and want to tell the person yk!!) but if anyone ever tells me deep dark stuff and I’m told to keep it a secret (as long as they’re not in danger/a danger to themselves) then yeah I’ll take that shit to my grave nobody’s gonna know

“I have nothing to hide” Asks

(For those daring enough to reblog)

1. What are 4 tabs that you have open on your browser right now?

2. Have you ever thought about seriously harming someone?

3. How are you feeling emotionally right now?   

4. What type of place(Like building) are you in right now?       

5. Does anyone know your deepest, darkest secret?

6. Have you ever tried to feign mental illness for personal gain?

7. Do you have any enemies?

8. Do you have any people you only pretend to like?

9. What is one item that you never let anyone besides yourself look at or in?

10. Do you have any talents that people say you have but you don’t believe you actually have?

11. Something you like that other people generally do not like?

12. Are you a Virgin?  

13. Is there anyone that your grandma would hate that you are subscribed to on youtube?

14. Introvert or extrovert?

15. What is the most used application on your device?

16. How much fan fiction have you actually read?

17. Worst Fears?

18. Biggest mistake you’ve ever made?

19. Worst lie you’ve ever told?

20. Do you consider yourself a trustworthy person?

[moonstruckme]

love of my life, queen of all things smut and marauders..........I have a request if you don't mind 😈 I was thinking of this with Sirius, but it could truly be whoever you think fits. But what do you think of a fic where reader x Sirius have sex for the first time (FWB, relationship, whatever fits the vibe), and Sirius finishes and moves his attention to reader who goes "oh it's alright, I've never been successful at that part of sex before...." & then it becomes this fun challenge for Sirius who spends the rest of the evening finding out what works for her until he finally gets her off 😃 xoxoxoxooxoxoxo

Thanks for the request and for weathering the long wait gorgeous Elle <3

cw: smut mdni, reader is afab and has trouble with orgasming

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Fuck.” Sirius’ forehead crashes into yours, his breath hot on your lips. “Are you close?” 

“You should come.” Your voice is tight, strained, though not nearly so much as his. 

“Not before you.” 

“Please, Sirius.” You both moan as he thrusts deeper inside you, your legs squeezing tight around his middle. “Please, I want you to.” 

“I don’t—shit.” 

His brow tenses along with the rest of him as he spills into you. You feel the condom fill up with a heady satisfaction. You run your hands up his back soothingly, until he relaxes into you. 

“Fuck, gorgeous.” Sirius tilts his face to kiss at the slope of your cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I would…you just feel too good, have you gotten that complaint before?”

You laugh. “It’s not usually a complaint.” 

“No, but in this case…” He tuts, picking his head up to look at you. You expect to be self-conscious—it’s your first time seeing each other like this, and part of you is still fighting the urge to cover up and preserve your modesty—but the heavy drag of his gaze only makes you feel admired. “Well, anyways, sorry. How close are you?” 

“Oh, it’s okay.” You smile at him. Your finger traces the line of a tattoo on his bicep. “Don’t worry about it. I had fun.” 

Sirius blinks, and then his brows come down. “Hold on, that’s not fair. I want to get you off.” 

“Sirius, it’s really fine. I’m not…” You hesitate. You and Sirius have been friends for a while; it’s not as though you haven’t shared secrets before. And given what you’ve just shared with each other, you shouldn’t probably be embarrassed, but… “I haven’t exactly been…successful at that part of sex before.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows furrow as though he doesn’t quite understand what you mean. 

“I haven’t come,” you clarify. 

His eyes widen, lips parting. It’s horrendously attractive, worse with him still inside you. “You haven’t?” 

You shake your head. 

“Not ever?” 

You shake your head again. 

“Not even by yourself?” 

“Let’s just assume the answer to all of these questions is going to be no.” He shifts in you slightly, and you squirm. “Can you…?” 

“Oh. Yeah, sorry.” Sirius pulls out of you, looking somewhat awed. “So, forgive me, but what exactly are you getting out of this if you don’t expect to come?” 

You give him a droll look. “I guess I’m just a giver.” 

It’s more true than you let on. You enjoyed yourself more than you expected just now, watching Sirius come, knowing it was the sight of you and the feel of your flesh under his hands that did it. You hope he lets you do it again.

“I don’t have to come to have good sex,” you say in a more genuine tone. “It’s still fun for me.” 

“Right. Right, yeah, but—” 

“Listen, I’m only telling you so you don’t take it personally. It’s not a you thing, it’s just…” You gesture helplessly. “I’m not sure I can.” 

Sirius looks indignant. “I’m sure you can.” 

“I haven’t found any proof.” 

“Well, it’s—there’s a first time for everybody, doll. Can I try?” 

You sit up, drawing your legs closer and forcing him to sit back. “I told you, it’s not you.” 

“It could be me, though.” He grins roguishly. 

You roll your eyes, fighting a smile. “Don’t make this a pride thing.” 

“I’m not. I’m not, babe.” Sirius scoots towards you. He looks at you, sincere. “But it could be any number of factors, you know? Maybe you just haven’t tried the right thing, or there’s a lubrication issue, or something. It would be fun to try.” 

You rub your lips together. “It’d probably be a waste of time. And I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t work.” 

“I won’t be,” he promises. He crawls toward you on the bed, taking your ankle in hand to tug you closer. Your heart riots at the sight. “Let’s waste some time, gorgeous. I’ve got nothing else to do tonight. And you said you have fun even if you don’t finish, right?” 

“Right,” you admit. 

Sirius grins, flashing canines. “Lay back, then. Let me play with you a while.” 

It doesn’t take long to figure out that lubrication is not the issue. Between Sirius’ hands and his mouth, you’re spilled like warm honey across his sheets in minutes. He bites marks into your thighs, goes from gentle to masochistic to gentle again with his hands on your breasts, curls his fingers inside you so that you make sounds you don’t recognize. All the while, he calls you sweet names rolled up in taunts, making your cheeks burn and your body seem to give up any will of its own. It begins to feel cruel; the combination of who Sirius is and what he can do to you.

But it’s when he uses his tongue that you start to tremble. 

Your hand clamps blindly down on his shoulder, caught between keeping him close and pushing him away. Sirius’ hum, heavy with smugness and intrigue, is a vibration like you’ve never felt before. He takes your clit into his mouth. 

It’s altogether too much and not enough. You shift your hips, gasping, but after a while your breaths even into a steadier pant. You start to adjust to this new pleasure. Just when you think you’ve got it under control, you’re safe, Sirius slips his wicked fingers into your entrance again. 

“There you are.” His voice thrums with satisfaction as he kisses your clit. “You’ve been so good, sweetheart. So patient.” 

“Sirius, I—”

“What?” 

“I feel—” 

“What, pretty girl?” 

“Sirius.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m being mean.” He nibbles ever so gently at your clit, making you jolt away from him. Your walls clench around his fingers. “You’re just so much fun when you’re worked up like this, I can’t help myself.” 

He curls his fingers into that torturous spot along your inner wall, and what you want isn’t more sensation, but you can no longer find the words to tell him so. You dig your nails into Sirius’ shoulders and squeeze your eyes shut, feeling on the precipice of something great and terrible. Some kind of wreckage. 

“You’re okay, doll,” Sirius soothes. “You’re just fine. You like this, don’t you? Don’t you want to come?” 

With his low, sweet question, you do. You wreck like a ship against the shoreline. Splintering, screaming, crashing and drowning. Sirius laughs like the enemy vessel as you do.

It’s some time later when the stars clear from behind your eyes. You let out a shuddering breath. “Fuck.” 

“Mhm. That’s usually how it goes.” Sirius is all tenderness now. He kisses up your sweaty, overworked abdomen until he reaches your collarbone, where he nibbles rewardingly. “Good job, sweetness. And good job me, if I do say so myself.” 

You open your eyes to peek at him through your lashes. “Aren’t I supposed to say so?” 

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your chin. “Fairly sure you just did. I wouldn’t have guessed you had sounds like that in you.” 

“Me neither,” you admit. 

“Well, now I’ve got something new to work towards, I suppose.” 

“Sirius,” you sigh. “That was the first time I’ve ever come, and it took nearly an hour. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do that again.” 

“Oh, such a defeatist.” Sirius cups your face in his hands, thumbs moving sweetly down your cheeks as he presses a firm kiss to your lips. “I meant getting those sounds out of you again. But don’t worry, gorgeous, we’ll manage both.”

[comicaurora]

Hey, firstly I just wanted to say I’ve been consuming your content for years and thank you and Blue for being the only thing that kept my academic brain from turning to mush during online COVID middle school!

But I’m entering a new academic era, notably Junior year of my very rigorous collage prep program at my high school. I’ve always thought I would go to collage after high school but I’ve recently stumbled into some very interesting ways of making a living only perusing my creative passions (some very scary publishing opportunities). So I’ve been wondering if I actually want to go to collage or not, since going to collage just to be a published writer is an objective waste of money and I don’t want to spend the rest of high school breaking my neck earning collage credits I’m not going to use.

So I was wondering, if you had known you could make a living only perusing your creative passions, would you have spent the time, money and academic energy going to collage for something you didn’t end up doing professionally?

(I would ask my advisor but he’s too obviously pro collage and doesn’t have any experience making a living creatively).

(Sorry for the long ask)

No problem about the long ask! This is a very good question!

I'll start with the short answer, which is that nobody can make this decision but you, and if you decide not to go to college right now, that does not mean you are deciding to never go to college. Especially with Covid, plenty of people are taking gap years, and plenty of full-on adults go to college later in life, simply because the mood strikes them, or they now have income to burn, or they're interested in a career change, etc. This is not a coinflip that will decide the trajectory of the rest of your life.

For the longer answer, for me personally? Knowing I'd be able to earn a living doing art would have no bearing on my decision to go to college. Setting aside that a ton of the literary analysis my job is based on is skills I learned in college, I liked college because it gave me the opportunity to learn a wide swath of things, from anthropology courses to dinosaur science. I like learning new things! College was an opportunity to learn a ton of new things, and even if it was very challenging in places, I thrived in it. I didn't go to college with the goal of becoming qualified for a Real Job - because of who I am as a person I think I'd seriously struggle at most Real Jobs, and I knew that even back then. I was in college to learn, and to learn how to learn. I got my degree in mathematics, a thing I do not use in my Job, but the functionality of mathematics - to logically reason through problems, step by step, comparing it to known problems to map the way to solutions using operations that preserve truth - is an invaluable skill that I apply everywhere there are problems to solve, especially literary analysis. I learned a wide swath of tools with surprising applications, and I couldn't have known when I started how I might use them in the end.

However, there's a big caveat there. This was my personal experience of college as a playground where I could work towards a solid major and also branch out to take weird one-off electives and summer courses when anything struck my fancy. But I was in on a scholarship to cover a good chunk of my tuition, and one of my relatives very kindly paid for the rest. I got to do college without accruing any college debt, and that is an enormous factor. I can only share my personal take, but I'm not going to pretend that things would have been the same if I'd had to enter adulthood finding a way to quickly pay off a six-figure sum.

I've been extremely lucky to get to the point where I can navigate life in a way where money is very rarely something I need to worry about. It was certainly not always like that, and I do not miss those times, but it invariably shapes the way I see the world and the steps I took to get here. For me personally, I do not consider college in any way a waste of time; I think the opportunity to learn is one of the most exciting things out there. But my experience cannot be pretended to be universal.

This decision is yours, and it is also not final. Whatever choice you make, you can always choose again later. You have time.

[l-starsz]

billie surprises reader with toys that she wants to try out

a/n: this took me three days to write and is a little over 2000 words.. i am so sorry it’s taken me long to get around to this but i hope that the amount i’ve written makes up for it🥲 i’ve also not proof read this because i am falling asleep so if there’s mistakes please ignore it😞

as the movie ended, i sprawled out further on the sofa, stretching to grab the remote. billie had to go to a meeting, so i was keeping myself busy to pass the time while she was out. i'd started by cleaning our room, and the living room, before flopping on the sofa with shark. i'd turned my favourite movie on, but as it ended i was questioning what to watch next. i'd scrolled through tons of movies, but none sounded interesting, so i ended up watching my favourite series instead (which i'd watched thousands of times).

i was halfway through an episode, it had just got really good, when i heard a knock at the front door. i was obviously confused, i hadn't ordered anything lately, and billie wasn't supposed to be back for another hour. when i opened the door, the delivery guy handed me a parcel, i was puzzled, but thanked him anyway.

when i sat back on the sofa, i looked at the front of it and noticed that it had billies name on it. she'd usually tell me if she ordered something, but i brushed it off, assuming it was something for work. i placed it aside so that i'd remember to tell her that she had a package, then watched tv for another hour.

when i finally heard her walk in the house, i was practically asleep, but jumped up off the sofa to greet her. i saw her standing with her arms out for me to fall into, and immediately ran over.

"i missed you bil!" i giggled.

"i missed you more angel!! what did you get up to while i was gone, huh?" she ran her hands up and down my back before we pulled away from the hug.

"i cleaneddd, then i watched tv and shark was laying on the sofa with me to keep me company." i smiled as we wandered towards the living room, "oh! and a parcel came for you?" i gave her a questioning look.

when those words left my mouth, i noticed a small smirk appear on her face, which just made me so much more confused. we sat down facing eachother as she picked up the small box, then handed it over to me. i furrowed my eyebrows as she encouraged me to open it. i slowly and cautiously opened it, not knowing what i should expect inside. as i opened it up, i realised what she had ordered. my eyes widened as i glanced over to her, seeing her slightly laughing at the look on my face.

"do you like them?" she laughed. my jaw was practially on the floor as i just nodded.

there was a new strap, and vibrator in the box. the strap was bigger than anything we'd tried before. i didn't even know if i'd be able to take it. my mind was flooded with different thoughts as she gently took the box from me.

"wanna try them now, love?" she whispered, placing her hands on my upper thighs.

all i could do was nod, but she wanted a proper answer from me.

"words." she leaned closer as her lips ghosted over mine.

"yes. please, baby."

"good girl." she answered, hungrily pressing her lips against mine.

i moaned into the kiss as her hands explored my body the best they could over my clothes. soon enough, though, we pulled away from eachother and rushed upstairs.

it wasn't long before i was completely naked, pushed against the bed. my back was against the cool sheets and billies hands were placed on my hips. she was biting and sucking my neck and chest while my hands reached out for her clothes. i tugged at her shirt, trying to signal to her that i wanted it off. she took the hint and pulled it off, along with her jeans. she was left in her bra and underwear, her tits were threatening to spill over the edge of her lacy black bra, and she just looked so perfect sitting in front of me.

we were soon both completely naked, my hips were grinding up against her as she continued marking me. i knew she was trying to get me worked up, but i was just getting impatient at that point.i groaned and whined in an attempt to get her to touch me, but she didn't listen. she didn't listen until i begged her.

"you really need this, don't you angel?" she smirked.

i nodded desperately, bucking my hips up once again before she moved to grab the box. she first pulled the vibrator out, almost immediately turning it on. she started on the lowest setting, pressing it against my clit lightly, but soon pressing down harder. i didn't hesitate to moan loud as she gradually turned it up to the highest setting. she was moving it around against my clit, adding to my pleasure and making me squirm around. i was getting closer already. it never took her long to make me cum, but i was lasting even less time, given the fact that the toys were brand new.

my stomach tightened, and i was clenching around nothing. my wetness was flowing onto my thighs. my moans were high pitched, and frequent. i was ready to cum, but she pulled the vibrator away and turned it off. my moans turned to desperate whines and whimpers. i'd been so close to finishing, just for her to take that away from me. i saw a smirk playing on her lips, and it clicked in my head what she was doing.

billie pulled the strap from the box, carefully lifting it before adjusting the harness so that she could tighten it around herself. once she'd got it on, she noticed i'd been watching with wide eyes, and gently pushed me back against the bed again. her fingers first made their way to my folds, carefully moving my wetness before pushing one of her fingers inside me. i was tight around her, soaked. she teased me slightly with one finger for a bit, and then proceeded to push a second finger inside me.

she was gently stretching me out, preparing me for what was next. obviously, i was still moaning from the feeling, but i knew i wasn't finishing until she'd used the strap on me. breathy moans were leaving my mouth, whilst billie was admiring me and working on getting me ready.

my eyes were closed, and my head was resting on the pillows when i felt her pull her fingers from my entrance. it was only a matter of seconds before the strap was pressing against my hole, and the tip of it was inside me. i shifted around and felt billies hands land on my waist, running up and down to make sure i didn't get too overwhelmed.

"is this okay? can i push in a bit further angel?" her voice was soft, and caring.

"please." i whined and nodded.

she soon enough bottomed out, and kept still, careful not to hurt me. i moaned way too loud as the strap was completely inside me. as she was staying still and waiting for me to tell her to move, her hands were holding onto mine, running her thumbs across the back of them. once i was used to how much bigger this strap was compared to our other ones, i whined and nodded, looking into her eyes.

"are you sure? i don't want to push you too far. you're doing really well for me so far."

"i'm sure." i whispered, gently squeezing her hands to reassure her that i was okay, "i promise."

she started slow at first, pulling herself almost all the way out, then carefully pushing back in once again. she kept this up for a bit, but as i started getting wetter, her thrusts sped up. i was fisting the sheets, my eyes were shut tight and my hair was starting to get knotty from moving around so much.

i was tight around her, making it slightly difficult for her to move, but she didn't let that stop her. she just continued to speed up, determined to make me feel as good as possible. when i was starting to get close, she paused for a minute or so. i was too blissed out to look at what she was doing, letting out whines of protest instead.

"shh, angel. being so good for me. my good girl."

i took deep breaths, trying not to make noises at her. it wasn't long at all before i felt the vibrator on my clit once again, and that's when she started pushing the strap in and out of me again. i couldn't control my moans, and it felt like i couldn't control how my body was reacting as my high approached. my stomach felt tight. everything felt tight. i reached out to try to grab her free hand, brushing my fingers over hers until she took my hand in hers.

"pl- please! please baby! so close! i need to cum pleaseee!!" my moans were broked, along with my sentences.

"my pretty girl. can you hear how wet your pussy is for me?"

i nodded desperately, my eyes screwed shut as breathy moans echoed around the room.

"yeah, baby? oh love, you look so needy and perfect for me. you really need to cum for me, hm?" she spoke, lightly squeezing my hand.

"yes!! want to cum for you right nowww." i whined and squeezed her hand tighter.

"oh baby," she pouted and moved her hand to brush the baby hairs from my face, "cum for me then."

i was practically sobbing as i finished, my hands were covering my face, and i squirmed around in my spot. my moans and whines filled the entire room, and i was barely able to hear billie speak as i started to come down from my high.

"that's it my love. you've been such a good girl, i'm here. just relax for me. i've got you." she whispered as her movements came to a stop, and she took the vibrator off my clit.

once she'd turned it off and thrown it on the bed, she slowly maneuvered up my body, careful not to move the strap too much inside me. her soft lips peppered gentle kisses all over my face, before finally landing on my lips.

"can i pull out?" she whispered between kisses.

"mhm. cuddles. please hold me." i mumbled, absolutely worn out.

i heard her giggle at my words, and my drowsy state before slowly pulling out as carefully as she could. i winced when it was completely out, all of a sudden feeling too empty.

"my pretty angel. so fucked out, huh?"

i nodded and tried to pull her on top of me, but she didn't let me.

"can you go once more for me, baby? i just wanna taste you." she whispered, being so gentle with me.

i nodded tiredly. i was so exhausted, but i wanted her touch so bad.

"you're sure? we don't have to if you don't want to. use your words for me."

"one more, bil. still need you. one more quickly." i mumbled out.

i saw her smile sympathetically at my tiredness, before she worked her way down my body again. her tongue was careful between my folds. she'd soon enough reacted my clit, but she made sure not to overstimulate me. she made sure that she was gentle, but also just enough to make me cum again.

it wasn't long at all before i was moving in my spot, and letting out broken whines and moans. my back arched up, grinding against her mouth as i came again. my wetness soaked her chin, and the sheets under me. billies hands were holding my thighs, helping me calm down and relax as she moved away from my core. i could see my juices over her chin, and my heart raced at how beautiful she looked even after everything that had just happened.

my hands reached out for her, finally pulling her on top of me and getting the cuddles i'd so desperately wanted.

"you've done so good for me today, love. i know you're sooo tired, but i need to get you cleaned up, okay? i'll run you a bath and we can be really quick, then i'm going to get you a snack and drink, then we can sleep. i know it sounds like a lot, but i just want to take care of you properly. is that okay?" she whispered against my lips, placing a gentle kiss on them once she was done speaking.

"can we be quick bil?"

i was way too exhausted, but i knew she just wanted to make sure i was clean and looked after. she had the kindest heart. i felt so grateful for her.

"of course we can, my love. we'll be super quick."

i nodded and allowed her to get off me, then let her help me sit up. it wasn't long before we were in the bath, and billie was helping me wash my hair and body. we spent about 20 minutes in the bath, helping eachother out and just laying in eachothers arms. after what felt like hours, we got out, both wrapped in towels and heading back to our room to change. once we were in pyjamas (which for me, consisted of some shorts, and one of billies shirts), she helped me to sit on the chair at the vanity whilst she changed the sheets.

i felt so bad for sitting there letting her do almost everything, but i wasn't in the right headspace to do anything but sleep. if i stepped foot anywhere near the bed, i would've flopped onto it and been asleep straight away. we both knew this, so it was a better idea for me to sit and wait. obviously, she was constantly checking on me, making sure i felt okay and that i wasn't too sore.

the bed was soon made, and i immediately hopped into it, trying to convince bil to join me.

"ah ah. need to get you a snack. not long until you can sleep." she smiled, stroking my hair and kissing my cheek before she rushed downstairs.

i almost fell asleep when i was waiting for her, but she was soon back with something to eat, and a glass of water. however, when she got into bed next to me and wrapped an arm around my waist, i didn't want my food, or my water.i only wanted billie. i wanted her touch, her kisses, her love, everything. obviously i had that, but i had to wait until i'd eaten.

i tried shaking my head and resting it on her shoulder, shuffling further into her when i heard her let out a small sigh.

"i know you're tired, baby, but please just try to have something for me. the sooner you eat, the sooner you can sleep. i'll eat with you, then i'll hold you the whole time you nap. how does that sound?"

"okayyy." i whispered, practically asleep.

even though i'd agreed to eat, i was so exhausted that billie had to feed me. she knew that i would've gone to sleep if she didn't. i felt so lucky. when we'd finally finished, we both settled down in eachothers arms. before i fell asleep, i leaned over and peppered her face with light kisses, making her giggle.

"thank you, baby. you made me feel so good, and i feel so loved. thank you for taking care of me and loving me. i'm really grateful for you my pretty girl." i whispered, before falling asleep immediately with my head on her chest.

"i love you so much, my angel. i'm so proud of you." was the last thing i heard from billie before i was flat out.

[ilonii]

Prisoner Toji Headcanons - T.F

Prisoner Toji who you met on complete accident. You and a friend thought it’d be a good idea to try out “write-a-inmate”. The pair of you cooked up some letters and prepared to ship them out right up until you unfortunately got cold feet. Your friend, however, was determined to complete the process, sending off both your letters to your respective inmates.

Prisoner Toji, who was absolutely shocked to receive a pink, strawberry scented letter in the mail. The only person who’s ever sent him as much as high five is his son, and even that’s only once in a blue moon.

Prisoner Toji who isn’t really interested in replying until he saw the small polaroid attached to the bottom of the letter. This couldn’t possibly be the person writing to him. You were too young, and far too pretty be interested in writing some 40-year-old man rotting away in a cell.

Prisoner Toji who ends up taking a few extra weeks to write you back. He wants to make sure that he didn’t talk about the wrong things or say something that’d stop you from replying to his message.

Prisoner Toji who doesn’t know how shocked you are to see a letter from the state penitentiary mixed in with your bills and magazine subscriptions.

Prisoner Toji who is delighted to see you’re long-awaited waiting on his bed after an early morning workout.

Prisoner Toji who realizes how much you two have in common. You answered all his questions and even asked him a few of your own. It turns out that you guys like the same shows, enjoyed the same foods, even had a few of the same hobbies (toji had a hidden talent for crochet but shhh, only you need to know that)

Prisoner Toji who after five consistent months of writing each other, finally works up the nerve to ask you to come and see him. He even asked for your number to give you a call and arrange for a date.

Prisoner Toji who almost creams his pants the first time he hears your voice. It’s more perfect than he imagined. Absolute music to his ears. You ended up talking so long he had to threaten a few of the guys behind him just to get a few extra minutes.

Prisoner Toji who absolutely cannot wait to see you. On the day he’s supposed to see you he wakes up extra early, showers longer than he’s supposed to and attempts to actually style his hair for the first time in the five years he’s been incarcerated.

Prisoner Toji who didn’t think you could get any beautiful but stands corrected when he see’s you walk through the doors.

“Hi Toji”

“Hello pretty”

“Sorry If I’m a little nervous, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon”

“Don’t worry, I’m a little nervous myself”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve been locked up five years this is the firs time I’ve seen any outside of sweaty old men; I don’t even think I still know how to talk to a woman”

“Toji you’re so silly, but for what it’s worth I think you’re doing a pretty good job”

“Well thank you, how have you been”

“I’ve been good, I spent a lot of time tryna figure out what to wear today, I wanted to look nice for you.”

“Yeah? Stand up let me see what you landed on”

Did toji really care what you were wearing? A little. Did he really just want to see you get up and spin for him? Absolutely.

“Wow, I think you look amazing. Wonderful choice sweetheart”

Prisoner Toji who makes the best of the next 30 minutes he has with you. Flirting, laughing, cracking jokes. He does it all in the little time he has left.

Prisoner Toji who after you, for the first time in half a decade, really wishes he was out of this hell hole.

border by @bernardsbendystraws

[mrs-kmikaelson]

helios

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x sunshine!reader Summary: Aaron thinks you're just about the most radiant person he's ever met. But then you fly too close to the sun, and all your light disappears. Warnings: grumpy x sunshine turned not sunshine, references to the greek myth of icarus and the sun god helios, graphic descriptions of violence, murder, mentions of abduction, heartbreak, complicated relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unresolved trauma, aaron is a bit of a jerk (with reason) Words: 3.1K

Masterlist | icarus (part 1) | part 3

a/n: part 3 otw (don't kill me; we can talk about the next part of the grey area later)

When you first met Hotch, you knew he was wondering why you'd apply for the BAU. Most people wondered why you'd work for the Bureau in the first place. To make the world brighter, you'd thought.

But now your world was so dark that it made you wonder what the point of any of it was.

Did it matter if you helped some people? Did you really help anyone? You used to think so.

Now you were on the other side of the equation, and it didn't seem that way anymore. You weren't the agent, just the victim. And now you wondered—could you ever truly help anyone? Or were they all just dead the moment they were taken?

You never stayed long enough to see the aftermath, what happened to the victims after the unsub was apprehended. You now wished you did. Did this feeling ever go away?

It didn't feel like that right now.

Nonetheless, you still found yourself sitting at the BAU round table, coffee in hand in attempts to remedy your lack of sleep. It didn't help much, but it made you feel like you were doing something. Lately, everything in your life felt that way.

You sat across from Spencer, between Emily and Derek. They were talking about this movie they saw; Reid was arguing about innaccuracy and statistical probability. They invited you to go, too.

No thanks, guys. I'm busy this weekend. You didn't elaborate further.

You remembered the look of disappointment that washed over Spencer's face, but he covered it with a smile. You reciprocated it the best you could.

Smiling felt harder.

"Hey, Y/L/N, you listening?"

You blinked, turning to see Morgan looking at you expectantly. "Sorry. What?"

"I said, drinks. After this case. It's all on the old man's tab." Rossi made a sound of protest in the background, but Morgan barely glanced his way, keeping his eyes on you. "You in?"

Your mouth opened, but you didn't know what to say. You were running out of excuses. This felt like a test—

"Let's start the briefing."

At Hotch's entrance to the room, you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders despite the air somehow getting heavier. You trained your eyes on the screen, relieved that you wouldn't have to answer.

JJ started, "Baltimore's seen a series of child abductions over the past few months. Jimmy Porter was abducted from the mall a week ago." She clicked to the next slide. "His body was found dumped by the harbor 2 days ago."

Diving into profiler mode, you tilted your head at the picture. "Dumped is a nice way of putting it," you commented. "The positioning shows an ample amount of remorse."

"And he dumped the body where it could easily be found," Hotch built off your point. He usually did that. It almost felt like things were normal between you.

Please, Y/N.

You cleared your throat. "Have the other bodies ever been found?"

JJ sighed, automatically indicating you wouldn't like her answer. "Baltimore PD is sweeping the water as we speak." She clicked to the next slide. "Last night, Max Campbell was taken from his home while his parents were asleep."

Derek sat up straighter. "That's a hell of a risk to take."

"To go from abducting from common hunting grounds like a mall to one's own home is extremely unlikely. It shows an immense jump in confidence and victimology, going from victims of opportunity to a specific victim in a specific location," Reid said, making gestures with his hands. 

You tipped your head in his direction. "There must be something specific about Max Campbell that made the unsub take him without even cooling off."

Hotch nodded, agreeing. "We'll discuss this further on the jet. Wheels up in 30." 

You all stood up, grabbing your things. You were about to leave the room when Hotch called your name. 

"Y/N." You turned back, seeing his soft expression that was simultaneously devoid of emotion. "Could I speak to you for a moment, please?"

No. Whatever he wanted to talk about could wait. He already got his fill the night before. You had nothing more to talk about.

But you couldn't say that. You'd already said too much. So, you reluctantly nodded, waiting for everyone to file out of the room and ignoring the glances they shared.

Rossi closed the door on his way out, like he could anticipate that you wouldn't want anyone to hear this conversation. You didn't know if you wanted to thank him for it or be angry at the assumption.

Most of your feelings were torn between extremes.

Sadness and anger.

Relief and intensity.

And as you stared at Aaron, standing there with stiff arms, hate and love.

He started slowly as if he was pacifying an unpredictable animal. "Y/N... I would like you to stay with Garcia for this case."

You involuntarily recoiled, shocked at the notion. If he was ashamed, he didn't show it. You scoffed. "What?" He opened his mouth, but you didn't let him get a word in, taking a step forward. "Hotch, that's ridiculous. Child offenders are my specialty. Are you seriously taking me off this case?"

"I'm not taking you off the case," he reasoned. "You'll be more help here—"

"How?" A look of offense crossed his face, but you couldn't care less. Maybe you would've been more scared to go against Hotch before, but this was now. He'd never suggested something so ludicrous.

Emily called you yin and yang, two sides of the same coin. He trusted you on all fronts. This didn't feel like trust.

It felt like punishment.

Hotch's eyes hardened, giving you a look you'd never seen directed at you before. "Agent Y/L/N, as your unit chief, I am ordering you to stay here. Your input is valued; you will still contribute. But effective immediately, you will not be joining us in the field until a psychological evaluation deems you fit."

Another scoff left you. "Psychological evaluation? That's what this is about? All because I wouldn't fucking talk to you—"

"Watch your tone—"

"You have my doctor's note. I am physically and mentally capable for this job. You are not a licensed psychologist—"

His voice raised as he cut you off. "I reserve the right to make decisions about the agents on my team." He gave you one final once-over, like he was daring you to say another word, give him a reason to do something more drastic. You clenched your jaw, holding back all the words you wanted to let flow. That seemed to satisfy him enough. "You will stay here. End of discussion."

Hotch grabbed his briefcase and promptly left the room, not sparing you another glance as you just stood there, left once again by Aaron Hotchner.

Yin and yang, Emily had said. It almost made you laugh. The coin was flipped.

He was leaving you in the shadows.

— 

Derek passed by your desk as you were grabbing your things, getting ready to go to Penelope's bat cave. He raised a brow at you. "Hey, where's your go bag?"

Without meaning to, you sighed, immediately regretting it when you saw the smile on his face falter. "Sorry, I'm—" not mad at you, "I'm not coming. Bossman's orders." You threw in a smile, trying to smooth things over, but it came out more sarcastic than anything.

He stared at you in silence for a few seconds with that same look that everyone had been giving you since you came back. The same way you'd look at a pressure-activated bomb. Careful not to move too fast, press too hard, press in the wrong areas.

Derek seemed to decide that whatever he was thinking was worth saying. "Kid, you know he just wants what's best for you." Kid.

Were you not grown up now?

You pursed your lips before responding, "Yeah." It was sure as hell hard to see it that way when you were being benched, punished for something that wasn't your fault.

You couldn't help but think that Hotch would never do this to Derek. Or anyone, for that matter. It was just you.

Morgan sighed, but he left it at that, sensing the cut was too fresh. His eyes travelled lower. Silence again.

You knew what he was looking at. You resisted the urge to cover your stomach.

"Does—" he hesitated. Derek Morgan never hesitated. "Does it still hurt?"

You sharply inhaled. The scars had two months to heal. Sometimes, you could still feel the knife ripping into your body. Once. Twice. Three times.

You could feel it most times, actually.

The medications could get rid of the pain, but they couldn't get rid of the sensation of that knife in your body. Sometimes, you thought nothing ever would.

"I'm told it doesn't hurt anymore than it should," you said. Whatever that meant. Apparently, you were in pain paradise. This is the spot you want to be at, you doctor told you.

You didn't call bullshit when he said that, but Morgan looked like he might do it for you in real time.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but he was cut off by Emily. 

"Are you guys coming?" Right after she spoke, her eyes darted between you both, asking you a different question with her eyes. Am I interrupting something?

You shook your head, giving her a smile that looked more practiced. No, you're not. "No, I'm not coming. I'll see you guys when you get back." You dodged any more questions by quickly turning around. Morgan could explain it to her if she asked. You didn't feel like answering any more questions, being treated like a ticking time bomb.

You just wanted things to go back to normal. Once they started treating you like they did before, then you could be the same as you were before.

You're not the same, Y/N.

Nothing was.

—

Penelope couldn't get through to you. You were quiet all day except to share your theories. The next day was the same. And the next. And the next. Until the bastard was caught.

Max Campbell was rescued. You weren't there to see it, but you wondered if it really made a difference. He was just a boy, so full of light.

Would that light ever come back to him?

You exhaled, running your hand over your face. Even though you stayed home, you were exhausted. You didn't sleep more than an hour at a time, but that wasn't much different from your new routine.

You were starting to see more of the moon than the sun.

When the team returned, you greeted them all with smiles. There, just like before. The only difference was that you didn't talk to Hotch.

He glanced at you, wordlessly telling you to talk to him, but you weren't gonna do that.

Rossi noticed the lack of communication between you. Everyone did, but he was the only one who'd say something about it.

Stirring his coffee in the break room, he started, "Aaron is... stubborn. But he's extra hardheaded for the people that he loves." Loves.

Your hand stilled halfway to grabbing the coffee pot, but you recovered quickly, grabbing it and pouring yourself a cup. You glanced side to side, checking to see if anyone was around to hear him and whatever he was implying. 

When you found no one else, you replied, "Okay." You weren't going to dignify that claim with any other response.

You knew Aaron cared about you; you'd be a shitty profiler not to know that. But love was a strong word.

Love didn't leave you all alone when you begged it to stay. Love didn't stay away from you while you were lying in a hospital bed. Love didn't interrogate you and make you sit on the sidelines when you didn't answer its questions. Love didn't make you feel so cold when all you wanted was to feel warm.

Rossi stopped pretending to pay attention to his coffee. You didn't meet his eyes. "Bellissima, you're going to have to talk to him eventually."

"Can you pass the creamer, please?"

"No." Finally, you looked up, meeting Rossi's passionate gaze. "It gets worse before it gets better. You have to let that happen."

You clenched your fists, digging your nails into your palms. You didn't see how it could possibly get worse than this.

"You know, I don't really think I want this coffee anymore." You left the mug on the counter, exiting the break room and leaving the conversation altogether.

— 

"Hotch, please. The case is right here—"

"No."

"Come on, I'll be right by your side the whole time," you argued. A new case came in, just over in Montclair, and you were trying to negotiate your way into it. Two cases had passed where he made you stay in Quantico. It was becoming nonsensical.

You thought he'd crack by now, but he remained firm in his resolve, refusing to let you in the field until you talked about what happened. And "talking about it" was something you didn't want to do, much less with him.

His gaze had more heat than the sun outside. You could tell he was contemplating it. Even he must've been able to see how absurd this was, holding you back from your work when he wouldn't do the same to anyone else.

When it was him on the other side of this, he came back to work. He went into the field 30 days after being stabbed nine times. You only endured a third of that.

You thought back to that day. You'd rushed to the hospital and didn't leave his side. You visited him every day, keeping him company and updating him on your cases. You never iced him out the way he was isolating you right now. You never avoided him when you knew he was hurting.

If you talked to him—if you had that conversation—then that's what you'd say. You'd end up saying something foolish about the things you felt, feelings he wouldn't reciprocate. You'd reopen wounds you were desperately trying to close.

So you wouldn't.

You didn't say a word of what you were really thinking, sticking to the script. Please let me go. I'll be fine. I'll stay by you.

Eventually, he made up his mind. "Fine."

You could've nearly smiled.

— 

The case finished speedily. You captured the unsub and found the girl just in time. Happily ever after.

Hotch didn't seem to think so.

As soon as the elevator doors opened to the sixth floor, he was storming past you all, his footsteps thunderous against the floor. Garcia's smile fell from her face when she saw.

Without turning back, he called, "Y/L/N. My office, now."

You rolled your eyes, following him and ignoring the looks your colleagues exchanged. They did that a lot, lately. But everyone stayed silent, electing not to make commentary. It was smart, not wanting to add fuel to the fire.

But you... you were the most fire you'd been in months. For the first time since what happened, you didn't feel cold. White hot anger coursed through your veins, lighting a fuse that no one could get rid of.

You slammed Hotch's door on your way in. He immediately turned to you, seething, "That was reckless and stupid—"

"It got the job done—"

He raised his voice. "You walked into the house alone, without backup—"

"I talked him down—"

"You could've died!"

"It wouldn't be the first time!" you snapped. Your chest heaved as if you'd just run a marathon, phantom pains in your abdomen supporting your words. 

He glanced downward before meeting your eyes again. For a second, it was almost like you were looking at Aaron. It was almost like he was understanding. 

You got quieter, but your voice was no less firm. "It certainly won't be the last."

And just like that, Aaron disappeared. No longer your friend. Back to the prosecutor, the unit chief who took your words as a challenge. His eyes narrowed. "Yes, it will be." It took you a moment to understand what he meant, but he soon made it very clear. "Your gun and your badge, now. You're suspended for the next two weeks."

You took a step backward as if his words were a slap in the face. "What?"

Hotch didn't lighten up, his face completely impassive. "You are a danger to yourself, and I cannot allow you into the field in good conscience." He held his hand out. "Gun. Badge. Now."

You echoed, "You're suspending me?"

"Yes."

An incredulous scoff left you. He was suspending you after everything? When he had done the same and worse?

He was allowed to use his judgement and keep things to himself, but the second you stepped out of line, he wanted to suspend you? You couldn't believe it. You wouldn't believe it.

In a split second, you made a snap decision. If he didn't want you here, then it wouldn't be on his terms.

You unholstered your gun and unpocketed your badge, shoving them in his chest as opposed to handing them to him. You didn't take your eyes off him once, maintaining your glare.

You hoped it burned.

"You're not suspending me," you rebutted, taking a step closer to him. Realization dawned on his face. "I quit."

Hotch's face morphed into something that almost looked like regret. You wouldn't stay long to savour it.

You spun on your heel, marching out of his office with him right behind you. The team, who no doubt heard small bits of your conversation, looked confused. You didn't stop for any of them.

"Y/N, this conversation isn't finished." He must've thought that'd get to you. His unit chief voice, big and loud. But your feet didn't stop moving.

With your back still turned to him, you retorted, "No, but I am."

You reached the elevator, pressing the ground floor and close button within seconds of each other. When the doors closed, Hotch's approaching figure was gone, replaced by your own reflection.

A shaky breath left you. The fluorescent lights in the elevator were blinding. It was brighter in there than it was anywhere else in the building. But when you got out to the parking lot, it was just dark.

Artificial lights. Not the sun.

They didn't last. They had switches; you could turn them off.

Your switch was flipped, too. For a second, you were hot and blazing, burning brighter than you'd ever burned before. But as soon as you left the building, that changed completely.

You were immersed in darkness.

And you were alone.

[contentloadingandstuff]

What is a Husband's Role? - Liyue Girls x Male!Reader

A/N: Exams might be over for me, but now, of course, I got a notice that I have to submit myself to a military assessment, compulsory for all men in their 19th year of life. Wonderful. Anyway, enjoy! CW: None.

Question: Who is a husband to you? What is his role?

Beidou: Well, it's quite simple. Y/N is a tough guy, one that's not afraid of taking the world on his shoulders if need be. He handles things in my absence, keeping the Crux’s land-based businesses afloat. While I don't take him out to sea that much, I'd rather have him well and good just in case, he's more than adequate at running the fleet. Me? Heh, he always has my back. Whenever I drink, he stays sober and makes sure I'm taken care of and back home safely and he keeps my bunk warm at night. He's one hell of a man in the sheets too- Why are you blushing, eh? Not the kind of answer you expected? A gal has her needs, I'll have you know. 

Ganyu: My husband is the light of my life. Y/N treats me like a precious flower, tending to my needs and admiring me like the most beautiful thing in this world. When he holds me, he does so with utmost care and attention. His affection makes me feel safe and loved. Thanks to him, I learned to balance work and life again. But even when I'm on the clock, he visits me everyday for my midday nap. All of his support has been crucial for my self-esteem and my efficiency at work. Without him, I don't know where I would be today. Hm? T-too scientific…? I'm s-sorry, I've just been thinking about it a lot…

Hu Tao: Ah, yes! My partner in crime, my muse, and the man ensuring the continuation of the Hu bloodline! Aiya, whatever would my world be without him? It would be as bleak as the space between life and death, with me - a sad, wailing soul, eager to find the comforting warmth of another… I'm lucky enough to have it already. His role in this marriage is not just being my lover, but being my best friend too! He's always open to my shenanigans and eagerly listens to all of my poetic scribbles, praising me and giving constructive criticism in equal measure. Y/N is not deterred by my work, and never ever turns a cold shoulder towards me. He's there when I want to mess around, when I need help or when I just want to lay in his arms and twirl his hair. Mm, I can already picture our lovely heirs! I hope they'll have his eyes~. 

Keqing: I would like to confess something, if that is alright with you. Before I became a wife and a mother, I didn't truly understand what I was fighting for. I have been taught to work towards the preservation of an abstract idea of Liyue, a homogeneous mass of people and the land along with it. I fought for it, yes, but now I know that I didn't truly comprehend what Liyue is. When I first woke up alongside my husband and when I first held my daughter in my arms, I finally understood. I understood that I'm fighting for the people, not as some vague collective, but as individuals. I'm working and fighting for husbands such as Y/N, wives such as myself, and children like my own. I would give my life for my loved ones a hundred times over, and I can work twice as hard, knowing that I do so for the future of my family and every other family in Liyue. My husband opened my eyes, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

 

Lan Yan: Hey - that's no way to think about your beloved! Love is not inherently about being useful to each other, it's more about feelings and companionship. For example, I can't say that taking Y/N with me when picking rattan is making the process easier or faster; I could easily do it myself. But I invite him just to have him near. Hearing his voice comforts me, and to be honest, I've been by his side so long that I just feel… off without him. What if it stormed, or what if night caught me by surprise? He would be worried sick, I'm sure… Or what if I met a ghoul or a jiangshi while out? I m-mean, I have a Vision and everything, but is it wrong to feel safer around my big, strong husband?

Ningguang: I find it fairly obvious - he is to support me, to comfort me and to keep me company. If you would like a more personal take on the matter, I'd say that Y/N, for me, is a precious antique - surely the most valuable of all. His role is to be a feast for my eyes and my heart, nothing less, nothing more. I wouldn't want to drag him into my business, as that would be foolishly risking his life. His role is to satisfy my emotional and physical desires - after all, true fulfillment in these areas cannot be bought by Mora. 

Shenhe: Well, I learned that a husband's role is… Hm? You want me to answer in my own words? Oh, I see. Then… I used to think that a husband is meant to give his wife children. It is what I thought for most of my life, until I met Y/N. Y/N’s presence, his words and touch, cause a comforting warmth to spread through my chest. I learned that this is what love truly means. It's a sense of safety, but it is exciting all the same. I want him closer, but my usual dark visions do not appear in my mind. I do not feel the pressure of my soul straining against the red ropes. He calms me, he makes me feel safe. Now I understand the importance of having a soul to share one's life with. I understand now what the word ‘husband’ means. And I am… happy with Y/N by my side. 

Xinyan: I love Y/N because he honestly loves me for who I am. No matter if I rock and roll or feel in the mood for something softer, he'll jam out to it with me. And he's one hell of a guy, let me tell you! He's not afraid to go all in with me, no matter what. I thought about going on tour? He's there with me. I wanna save some Mora to upgrade my guitar? You guessed it, he pitches in as much as he can! I feel like stealing him and partying the night away? He never says no. That's the best man a gal can ask for!

Xianyun: Hmph. Are you implying One's choice of husband is poor? One will have you know that Y/N is of the finest sort - a body that would make the gods of old jealous and a mind that rivals One's own. It is the latter that’s of utmost importance - One doesn't see a husband as a mere nod-along, but as a man that is capable of challenging his wife's character and inciting her to grow. As such, don't be concerned by Y/N arguing my points at any point in time. It is what One desires, and loves about him the most. 

Xiangling: Ooh, where do I start! My hubby is the best sous chef in the world - he makes sure that the kitchen is stocked up, clean and well organised, letting me focus on my favourite part - cooking! Whenever I need to get ingredients, he takes my place in the restaurant. Sometimes we go out together to get some new ingredients and experiment a little. He's good at cutting up meat, hunting down that meat and defending me if any of my ingredients decides it wants to snack on me. And, when we camp for the night, his cuddles are just the best! Both my dad and Guoba approve of Y/N, so I suppose my taste in boys isn't that bad after all. 

Yelan: A woman my age, and in my line of work, can't be blamed for giving up and thinking she'll be alone until the end, right? That was the Yelan my husband met a few years back. And yet here I am today, a married woman. I knew I was missing out, but I just couldn't imagine how delightful it feels to have someone propping up my back - not for a mission, or a profession, but for life. My husband is my safety net. His arms are my hideout where I can rest from the stress of my daily work. I never want to lose him, which is why I have him stay low and always keep the eyes of my most trusted agent on him. Nobody is going to sneak up on my man - not while my heart still beats. 

Yun Jin: His use? Ah, I think I can answer that with a single word - adventure. I always dreamt of journeying across the outside world, and love is such a journey. Y/N is my companion on it, holding my hand whenever I feel scared or unsure, standing steadfast by my side. He lets me experience so many feelings and emotions I could only imagine before he took my heart… Hehe, stories of love I sing in opera don’t come close to experiencing a husband’s warmth yourself.  

Yanfei: Well, who else would listen to me ramble on about my passion other than my lovely Y/N? I swear, no matter how many versions or iterations of Liyue’s legal history I read out to him, he never gets sleepy! He even asks questions and actually remembers what each chapter was about, can you believe that?! Hehe, seriously now; he’s a great partner, both in life and in a discussion. Y/N makes some room in his schedule for visiting me at work every day of the week, and always brings some mean snacks with him. Oh - you have to try his crab cakes, they’ll blow your socks off! And who ever said that guys can’t cook, right? 

Thanks for reading!

[yois2aki]

wc. 1.3k

caleb gives me tiktok bf energy.

btw reader has freckles in this... sorry i hate giving reader physical aspects but i think he'd be a sucker for freckles 😔😔😔

“this is a trap.”

caleb eyed you warily as you set up your phone, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. he had been through enough of your little social media games to know when something was dangerous territory, and this? this was a minefield.

“you realize there’s no way for me to win this, right?” he muttered, arms crossed.

you grinned. “oh, come on, it’s just for fun.”

“that’s what you said last time,” he grumbled. “then you pouted for an hour because i ranked going shopping together last.”

“okay, but that was an injustice.”

caleb groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose before sighing in defeat. “fine. let’s just get this over with.”

you clapped excitedly, hitting ‘start’ on the ranking filter as the first body part popped up.

1. hands

he barely hesitated. “fifth.”

you gasped. “fifth?!”

he side-eyed you. “do you want me to be honest or not?”

you huffed. “fine. but you better put my legs below that or we’re fighting.”

he smirked. “we’ll see.”

2. legs

he pressed fourth without a second thought.

“caleb.”

“what?” he said, completely unfazed.

you glared at him. “so my hands are below my legs?”

he shrugged. “it’s the truth.”

you groaned dramatically, flopping against the couch. “i don't want to play this with you anymore.”

he chuckled. “too late now.”

3. eyes

his expression softened slightly.

“first,” he said immediately.

your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by how fast he answered. “…really?”

he turned his head slightly, glancing at you, and for a second, his violet eyes held something softer, something quieter.

“yeah,” he murmured. “really.”

your heart did a little flip, but before you could dwell on it, the next body part popped up.

4. lips

caleb exhaled, staring at the screen like it had personally betrayed him.

you smirked. “what, struggling?”

“not struggling,” he muttered, pressing second after a long pause.

you raised an eyebrow. “so my lips are second to my eyes?”

he shot you a look. “you know how i feel about your lips. but i look into your eyes every day. that has to count for something.”

your cheeks warmed slightly, but before you could let it get to your head, the next one appeared.

5. collarbone

without hesitation, he pressed ninth.

you gasped.

“ninth?!”

“what?” he said, completely unbothered.

“my collarbone is at the bottom?!”

“there are ten slots,” he reminded you. “it could be worse.”

“oh, you're so sleeping on the—”

before you could finish, the next one appeared.

6. voice

his eyebrows twitched.

he pressed third.

you blinked. “…my voice?”

he shrugged. “it’s nice. i like hearing you talk.”

your heart did another weird little flip. you quickly masked it with a smirk. “so what you’re saying is, my voice is sexier than my hands?”

he groaned. “i regret this already.”

7. stomach

he looked at the screen for a second before pressing sixth.

you narrowed your eyes. “explain.”

he took a sip from his drink. “it's nice to nap on.”

you flushed slightly. “caleb.”

he smirked but didn’t say anything else.

8. back

he hummed in thought before pressing eighth.

you relaxed slightly. “okay, that’s fair.”

he arched a brow. “oh, so you accept this ranking, but not the collarbone?”

“obviously.”

he shook his head. “ridiculous.”

9. neck

he pressed seventh.

you side-eyed him. “you’re thinking of something, aren’t you?”

“not at all.”

“liar.”

he just smirked.

10. freckles

he pressed first.

your breath hitched.

“…wait.” you furrowed your brows. “but you already put my eyes first.”

he exhaled, shaking his head. “no. i take it back. freckles should be first.”

he tried to tap the screen to change it, but the filter locked in the ranking.

caleb stared at the screen. then at you. then back at the screen.

“…you planned this.”

you burst out laughing. “i didn’t! but i knew you’d try to change it!”

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “this is exactly why i said this was a trap.”

you grinned. “so, my freckles win?”

caleb sighed, rubbing his temples.

“…yeah,” he muttered. “they win.”

you leaned in, smirking. “told you this would be fun.”

“for you, maybe,” he grumbled, but the way he was watching you—like the freckles scattered across your cheeks had just ruined him completely—told a different story.

[luveline]

coworker!james and his love hate gf meeting his parents by accident? she thinks he won’t own up to her but he’s super proud and calls her his girlfriend (for the first time 0.o) 

coworker frenemies <3 fem, 1.2k

You get the foolish idea to check in on James. Dying, he’d texted, won’t be in. Don’t miss me too much <3

And then, throughout the day, can you ask Remus to answer his phone please lovely, sorry 

Can you make sure my smiskis are all okay

I miss you too much 

Did you see that thing on the news about the goats in Spain ? 

Sometime around three, as you’re preparing to leave, his sporadic texting ends. You and Remus get on alright without James, and a quiet day comes to a close at four. 

“See you tomorrow,” you say. 

“Yeah, see you, have a good night,” he says back. 

You might. It depends on how James is feeling. You go to the shops on the way and wrack your brain for the things he likes. You know he likes cream of chicken soup: he brings it in his thermos sometimes for lunch. He likes freddos, tangerines, melon slices, and everybody likes balsam tissues and painkillers. 

James doesn’t necessarily have to let you take care of him, but it’s a care package. He can take what he wants and bin the rest. You get him some cool patches for his eyes and a box of teabags and consider yourself finished, paying, packing it into a tote, and carrying it back to the car. You get nervous on the road leading into James’ flat building, but Sirius’ car isn’t outside, just an old BMW that looks well loved. 

You pop the button to be let into the building and seconds later you’re opening the door. You make your way up the tight steps to the second floor and then the third, pausing to catch your breath lest you seem unfit just outside the door. 

You raise your hand to knock. James laughs from somewhere inside, loudly, and that laugh travels toward you until he’s yanking the door half off of its hinges.

When he sees it’s you, he grins. “Hello, beautiful.” 

“Hi. You okay?” 

He sniffles, but he doesn’t seem too poorly. His eyes are sore and he has a tissue in hand, but James is nothing if not spritely. “I’m okay, lovely, are you okay? To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“I brought you sickness survival essentials,” you say, dangling the bag on two fingers between you. “Just in case.”

He gets that look on his face you’re finding yourself on the receiving end of more and more. That You can be so lovely face. Like you’ve done something selfless, and he’s not deserving of it. “Thank you,” he says genuinely, quietly, slipping the bag from your hand and leaning in. You’re expecting the kiss on the cheek, just not the hand under your jaw turning you for a chaste one on the lips.

“Listen,” he says softly, “my mum is here.” 

You pause. “Oh.” 

“My dad, too, actually. She caught wind that I was feeling rough from Sirius and she’s brought it upon herself to come and make sure I’m alright.” 

“Oh. Well, well I’ll just go–”

He shakes his head. “Don’t go. I mean, you don’t have to stay, ‘course you don’t, but you can come in and meet them.” 

“As…” 

“What do you want to be?” he asks. 

It’s probably written all over your face exactly what you want to be to James. It’s the bag swinging from his elbow. It’s what he asked you not so long ago, sitting on the end of his bed with a puddle of nerves in your stomach. Do you want to be… this is the real thing, right? 

You didn’t know what to say, so you’d kissed him, and he’d known it wasn’t a yes or no. 

“Are you sure you want them to meet me?” you ask. 

“Yes.” He strokes your cheek with his forefinger, all gentleness, but then he gives it a squeeze. “Be warned, mum’s heard everything about you, even when I was sure I hated you.” 

“What if she doesn’t like me?” you ask, sickly. 

“She took your side every time,” he assures you. “I just mean she’ll give me a smug look every other minute. And my dad’s just happy to be wherever he is. But if you don’t want to… you know, if you’re not ready, that’s fine. I wasn’t gonna ask ‘cos I was worried you’d say no.” He winces. 

“I’m really worried they won’t like me.” 

“Why wouldn’t they?” he asks, as though the possibility is a pipe dream. 

“James, you didn’t like me.” 

“That had less to do with you and more to do with email politics,” he jokes, “lovely, you don’t have to come in. It’s fine, there’ll be other times.”

It’s his confidence in that that makes you take a step forward. “Do I look a mess?” 

“You’re beautiful.” 

“James, I just went to work, I’ve been up since six–” You give him you’re most pleading look, eyebrows soft and lips a little pouted, “please, just check.” 

James holds you by the shoulders, his gaze moving over you one feature at a time. “Still beautiful,” he says quietly, “you have something in the corner of your eye.” 

“Get it.” 

“I will,” he laughs, “just gimme a second.” 

You gasp as he almost pokes your eye out. 

“James, babe, who’s at the door?”

You’re surprised to hear a male voice and instantly endeared. James, babe, turns away from you, slipping a hand behind your shoulder to force you into the hallway next to him. A dark-haired older man is standing in the door to the kitchen, his smile curious and friendly. “James?” 

“Yeah, this is Y/N,” James says, “she was just making sure I’m okay.” 

“You've invited her in for a cup of tea?” Monty asks, a picture of his son as he gestures for the kitchen. 

“Tea?” James asks, watching you carefully. 

You attempt to hide your nerves with a nod and a smile of your own. “Yes, please.” 

Monty heads back into the kitchen. James runs his hand down your back and lets you step in front of him, bearing the brunt of his mother’s gaze all by yourself. “Hello,” she says, clearly excited.

“Hi.”

James holds you by the back. “Mum, dad,” —you suck in a breath— “this is Y/N. She’s my girlfriend but–” He raises his voice before Euphemia can talk. “It’s not been long, okay?” 

“James, why didn’t you say?” 

“Mum, I just–” James sighs. You go numb with the pleasure of the thing —you weren’t expecting him to say girlfriend. To own up to you completely. “You dropped in unannounced, and we aren’t telling very many people.” 

“It’s my fault, I didn’t say–” You start, tamping down a brilliant smile. 

Monty cuts you off swiftly. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. We’re all here now, aren’t we? So, you work with Jamie?” 

“Yeah, yes, I’m on the accounting team.” You relax into James’ touch, letting your shoulder be guided against him just a bit. “I started a couple of months ago.” 

“Almost a year ago,” James corrects. “Should we have that cup of tea?” 

You frown at the scratch of his voice. “I can make it,” you offer. 

Euphemia laughs, James groans, and Monty has a twinkle in his eye you aren’t familiar with. “I can make the tea,” Monty says, “why don’t you lovely ladies sit down?” 

“Does that include me, dad?” 

“Of course it does.” 

[aninipanin1]

CUPID'S ARROW HIT

100 Followers Special!

Part 1, Part 2 Coming Soon

Cupid's arrow hit ISAGI YOICHI in a normal and supposed miscellaneous interaction. It was supposed to be another day in Blue Lock, one filled with training and the usual schedule, but unbeknownst to his past self, it will become an unforgettable day. A day where he saw you struggling, the schedule and pressure of being the manager of more than 200 players, all with differing personalities, playstyles, and characteristics, meaning, different approaches, perspective, and techniques. Yet, you were not phased. In fact, you seemed to enjoy it, as evident by the sparkle in your eyes that was vacant of any regrets or tiredness, especially when you interacted with the players, did chores and gave tips to them. It was like you loved the challenge and the fact that you can help him and the others. He confirmed this every time he sees the beautiful and genuine smile on your face when he and anyone else succeeds, a showing of happiness that others are succeeding because of you with no trace of even taking any credit even if you deserved it.

"You seem to enjoy the tons of work given to you, Y/n-chan."

"It isn't that I enjoy work. I enjoy it because I get to help the people whom I love."

"...Thanks. I- No, I meant...we love you too. As long as it continues, making you happy and not stressed.

Timeline: First Selection

Cupid's arrow hit BACHIRA MEGURU the moment you looked at him. It was not love at first sight, far from it. What he meant is when you first looked at him with your real eyes, with the real emotions and experience all embedded in your irises, the eyes without faux overpolitedness and professionalism. Instead, you allowed the eyes of an egoist, a dreamer, and a worker to finally take its place as you stood in front of him in that field as he did a solo practice. Your eyes, your expression, the way you quipped your mouth in thought, it all was like a beautiful story to him, a spectacle that should only be seen by those who would appreciate your hidden and true self. He always believed in the saying: "The eyes are the windows to the soul," and when he saw yours, never did he believe he will ever see a soul as beautiful and exhilirating as yours. It glowed, almost like it reflected the sun itself, full of hidden fire that you sadly cannot see yourself, which never fails to disappoint the blonde. If only you can see your own beauty, there would be many maybes that would be answered and fulfilled.

"So, you believe your ego can be achieved by helping us succeed?"

"Uhuh. I believe that someone like me is more fitting of being the mechanic than the engine."

"I like that! Did anyone ever tell you that you have the prettiest eyes ever, Y/n-chan?"

Timeline: First Selection

Cupid's arrow hit CHIGIRI HYOMA when he got a whole box to himself just for his knee care. It was not that you gave it to him because he did ask for it. However, he did remember the tone and words he used to ask you for one was not the most ideal or polite way to ask for a favour. He knew deep down that he had a not so desirable personality. He was sassy, sarcastic, and blunt to a fault, characteristics that led to a lot of people not really liking him in the past years. But, he was not a monster! He did feel really bad for how he said what he said, probably because he just woke up and did not have his breakfast at that time yet, but he knew it was no excuse. But, to his surprise, you did not seem to be offended. Quite the opposite, you were beaming the moment you gave him the box and excitedly showed him everything that was in the said box. Your patience and kindness made his heart beat up a little faster than usual.

"And then I added a few more cooling packs just in case...and um that's all!"

"You really outdid yourself, huh? Sorry, I was being a little rude when I asked you for this."

"Rude? You were..?"

"Pfft- hahahaha, you're the most clueless person I know when it comes to tones and emotions, Y/n-chan. That's why I think being with you is really calming and pleasant, you know? You rarely stress yourself over something, it's amazing."

Timeline: Second Selection (Still with Kunigami and Reo)

Cupid's arrow hit KUNIGAMI RENSUKE the moment he saw you happily and cutely eating and enjoying your lunch time. It was a rather tame and boring display if you asked any other person. But, in his eyes, it was quite adorably how your cheeks inflated to accommodate the food you kept inserting in your mouth. It showed him a much more vulnerable side to your usual professional and intellectual approach to your work around them and the facility. It also eases his chest up when he sees you rest and have time for yourself, he loves your help and is always thankful for it, but he also knew how important it is to have time for oneself to rest and rethink about everything. Besides, cozy and comfortable you is quite adorable in his eyes, especially when you are all small and swallowed up in your seat, mindlessly eating in a ball, hugging your legs.

"Never change, Y/n-chan."

"Huh? What are you talking about, Kunigami-san?"

"Heh, I meant, to not change your habits. Youre really cute this way, Y/n-chan."

"Hmm...I'll take that as a compliment I guess."

Timeline: First Selection

Cupid's arrow hit BAROU SHOEI the moment you offered to help him clean up the room, his teammates left behind (ahem Nagi and Chigiri ahem). It was not just because he deemed your cleaning skills worthy or impressive (it was one of the reasons, yes), but the main reason was definitely the calm look on your face as you picked up the dirty socks and scattered shoes around the room. Your face screamed the opposite of annoyance, an expression he expected but was proven wrong. Most don't really like the notion of cleaning up others' mess, but your patience and thoughtfulness definitely made him raise an eyebrow. After all, if he was in your position, having to take care of guys your age who could not even care for their own space, he would be ready to throw all their things at their faces. But, he was not you, and he was a little curious about what goes inside your mind for you to act the way you do.

"You're too patient. Let them clean the mess they made."

"It's nothing, Barou-san. Besides, I know you all are tired from training, this is the least I can do."

"Tsk, you're too kind. People are going to use that, you know?"

"Hmm, I'd let them be. Its their loss and conscience when they decide to use my goodwill. I'm the one who'll get the points for staying kind anyway."

"...Whatever." (He was secretly blown away by your answer, though)

Second Selection (4 man team with Isagi, Chigiri and Nagi)

Cupid's arrow hit NIKO IKKI when the barriers of the awkward stage finally let itself down between the two of you, creating moments where you two would talk for hours on end when it came to similar likes and dislikes. The moment you started to talk about his favourite mangas or praise all his favourite ice cream flavours, Niko was convinced you were his soulmate of sort. Cringy, most would say, but to him, it was more than natural, like it was meant to be. And just as he thought that you could not win his heart even more, you had the audacity to comment that you found his messy bangs and eyes adorable when you managed to get a peek of them? The eyes he was insecure about and thought too intense due to him listening and taking in the words from his bully from the past? Those eyes...?

"I have pretty eyes? Me...?"

"Yeah! Why do you sound unsure?"

"Well, because it's really ugl- nevermind...its nothing."

2 week break after the U-20 match

Cupid's arrow hit NAGI SEISHIRO in such a mundane yet intimate moment, a window in time where domesticity felt something akin that of a melancholic nostalgia as he looked at you, watching your cute and miniscule frustration at a simple game that you were currently playing on his switch. The current look of concentration mixed with frustration, a look that he had not seen on your face before, made the organ in his chest agitated. Why? Was it because of the beautiful contrast the lighting of the gadget gave to your face, making you look like a celestial being? Or maybe even the way you trusted him enough to lay your weight on his arm and shoulder as your full attention was on the game? He did not care. He thought it was too much of a hassle to even find the reason. After all, he liked the feeling, so the meaning was pretty much irrelevant, right?

"Nagi-san, how do you do this level?"

"..."

"Nagi-san?"

"...Huh? What did you say?"

2 week break after the U-20 Match

Cupid's arrow hit MIKAGE REO more and more every time he hears or sees your responsible and patient personality shine. Yes, you were indeed beautiful, but so were other girls, but with your mix of kindness, beauty, intelligence, and the ay you carried your responsibilities both professionally and emotionally was the reason why his head will turn your way again and again with no fail. Specifically, your kindness. It was a different type of kindness, one that he had never felt before due to how its roots are just your innocent desire to help everyone around you, with nothing in return. In this dog-eat-dog world, nothing is for free anymore. It is either you pay or return the favour, which was fair, but you, your presence, and gentleness were unconditional which was a breath of fresh air, especially towards someone like him who was used to conditionings.

"Y/n-chan! Let me help you with that!"

"Eh? It's fine Mikage-san-"

"I insist, for once, let me repay your kindness, even if it's unconditional."

Neo Egoist League

Cupid's arrow hit ITOSHI RIN the moment you approached him after the long break of the players from the facility, expressing to him that you found his play in the end of the U-20 match his most mesmerising play compared to his usual elegant ones. That you loved his original playstyle, his original ego, much more beautiful, much more him, like he was free from the clutches of anything in the world. He did not understand it. His brother looked at him in that certain moment like he was a disgusting monster, to which he did not care, but he did believe that. He was ready to play the villain as long as he got to beat his rivals. However, you embraced that monstrosity, that horrific, mangled ego of his just because it was him, compared to his once elegant playstyle that tried to copy his elder brother's ways. And for once, the princess embraced the big, bad, and ugly monster instead of the powerful hero, finding its fangs and horns beautiful.

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"I know its disgusting. You don't have to hide it, I don't care if you find it that. Victory is all that matters to me anyways."

"No. It's not disgusting. To me, it's your statement to the world that you're not Itoshi Sae's little brother, but Itoshi Rin. It's who you are, Rin-san, and whoever finds it hideous or disgusting is boring for wanting someone to just fit in their box of expectations."

Neo-Egoist League.

Cupid's arrow hit ITOSHI SAE in one normal, albeit chilly Thursday evening in Spain. He just got home from his practice as he cosied up on his bed, typing away on his phone, eyes waiting patiently for you to send a reply on each question and input he asked. He had friends before, even as a young kid, although scarce, he was not exactly a loner. However, due to his cold responses and dry knowledge about anything other than football made him a victim of being the odd one out in his friend group most of the time, with all of his so-called 'friends' not putting any effort to include or even try to understand what he says or does, just continuing on with whatever they were saying or doing, making it feel like a secret code where he was the only not included in. To which the redhead did not have any problem with, used to being alone and independent, but to see you actively try to understand his points of view and to even teach him the silliest things you knew just so he would not be lost in whatever conversations you both may have made his cold heart feel somewhat warmer, especially in the middle of the cold night he was currently feeling.

"Are you done explaining what that guy's power is now? You didn't have to type out a whole 500 word essay for me to understand who he is."

"Sorry, Sae-san T_T, but now that you know, I can continue my story!"

"Whatever. Go on."

Neo-Egoist League

Had to cut it in half since there are like 20 plus of them I will write but then my phone started lagging lmao, next part wil be up soon! Thank you again for more than 100 followers!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[quarterlifekitty]

König meets eldritch monster disguised as a cute girl, what will happen next?

Turned out it wasn’t to lure in prey or anything the monster’s preferred form is just girl and found pulling König into the crossfire funny

- @murderkittyz

You know, this reminded me, even tho no one asked—

cw: spiders

Maybe it’s because of his arachnid skin, but I think König would like spiders. He respects them as hunters and empathizes with them— they are often feared rather than loved just for being themselves.

König doesn’t destroy the spider webs in corners of room, despite his preference for tidiness and relative order. He doesn’t see the sense in destroying its home when it kills pests for him. Ironically considering his job— he prefers not to kill little things like that.

König is just the sort of man whose luck would have that the one time he meets a girl that likes him— it’s in his dream. A beautiful girl, sitting with him on a summer evening on the porch of a house he doesn’t recognize. There’s a delicate glass wind chime tinkling with the cool breeze.

You tell him that you’ve admired him from afar for a long time. That you have quite the crush, and that it’s making you a little giddy to meet with him like this for the first time. An infectious smile. Laughter that matches the wind chime.

He wakes up, disappointed to find himself alone again, but more or less content to remember the dream for the peace it gave him, however temporary.

But he sees you again the night after. It’s odd— he’s never had a dream that continued. Dreams that repeated, usually nightmares, sure, but never continued. So you continued to chat with him, growing bold and playful as the nights go on. Brushing his hand, leaning against him, putting your hand on his thigh. He begins to ask questions. He doesn’t expect answers from you.

“How can this really be a dream? It feels so… real.”

“Dreams are always at least a little real, aren’t they?”

Your lips certainly feel real.

“Won’t I ever meet you when I’m awake, schatz? I want to… I want to take you home with me.”

Your face falls a little and you withdraw, König preparing himself for the sting of rejection. It would be just his luck to be rejected by a projection of his own subconscious.

“You w-wouldn’t like me out there. I don’t look like this— I’m gross, you’ll think so too.” You start to sniffle and he’s able to overcome his frayed nerves to pull you against him.

“I could never think that about you, liebe. I know what it’s like… to not be accepted based on looks. Please, believe me.” You cling to the warmth of his chest. As if he would leave. As if either of you had any choice.

When the morning light wakes him, it cuts a path across the ceiling, glittering against the spiderweb spun into the corner above his bed.

(Lmao sorry I know this ain’t exactly what you wanted but you got me on those jorogumo thoughts yk lol)

[vqnrouged]

⠀⠀HAII uhhmm... moot 😋🥳 eemrmtm... if im NIT mistaken, i saw ur request status open so emrntm.. :sweats: (sorru im kinda awkward w interacting w new ppl 😓)

⠀⠀may i request⠀⠀ second years X gn!reader⠀⠀ who's frequently (sl)eepy but is really, REALLu good at combat???!! like they'd often see [n] tiref in general; though when classes were dismissed, they "unintentionally" saw the reader quarreling some npc who's mildly injured (and possibly a lopsided ankle for the fun of it🤑) and just one tapped the npc's pressure point causing them to faint and BOOM!! reader caught the [insert character] staring at the scene whilst the reader acts like nothing happened 😼😼

⠀⠀SORRY IF IT'S REALLT SPECIFIC i tried to get a hold of myself when i saw ur guidelines when requesting and i hope this isn't too much 😓 my brain is currently filled w tons of chaos and i feel like expressing them at some point /e cry..... BUT TAKE YOUR TIME!! it's no pressure to be doing this in a hurry cuz im often busy w tumblr too and i might not notice it's already been minutes, hours, days or weeks after this request hdhsjsshbs

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐖/ 𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏

𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 : mystery girl by housecall

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 : floyd leech, kalim al-asim, jamil viper, silver

𝐚/𝐧 : i’m sorry i took so long to answer this request, zen. i got caught up with school. :( forgive me for being a lil’ rusty with my writing, i’m trying to get used to it again. hence why i split this into two parts. please enjoy!

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇

Absolute boredom was the only way to describe the end of the school day. The last class always seemed to drone on and on until Floyd found some form of entertainment in a random object, preferably one he could use to bother someone else. However, his joy would always be cut short due to Trein’s exceptionally keen vision and intolerance for disruptions. To put it kindly, he was a total buzz kill.

Hence the pure excitement Floyd felt when he exited the classroom, only to see you, the oh so famous prefect, taking down a larger student in mere seconds. It fascinated him, you were so tiny yet you took the big fishy down so quickly? Consider this eel impressed.

And he was not about to pass up this opportunity for entertainment, so he slowly approached you and the student that laid unconscious on the cold tile. It wasn’t until he stood directly behind you that he uttered even a single word.

Floyd quietly put his head on your shoulder. “Whatcha doin’, shrimpy?” He whispered.

You jumped back from the new presence, and of course it had to be Floyd of all people who found you. Talk about bad luck, he was not going to be letting this go.

A nervous chuckle left you as you turned to face him, your hands clasped together behind your back. “Oh hey, Floyd. What’s up?”

He waved his hand in a relaxed manner. “Oh, nothin’ much. I just so happened ta’ be heading towards the lounge when I happened to see my Shrimpy making a ruckus.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Then a thought occurred to you, could you trick Floyd? So, you quickly came up with an excuse. “What-!? No, I was just heading back to the dorm.”

The eel suddenly got serious, his mismatched eyes stared down at you, unblinking. “Shrimpy, you’re a really bad liar.”

Okay, so that was a terrible excuse. You definitely should have seen this coming.

He relaxed his expression, an eagerness now playing behind his eyes. “Let’s cut to the chase. How’d ya take that big fishy down so easily?” He asked.

You didn’t reply for a moment, too shocked to come up with an answer.

Floyd then grabbed onto your shoulders, aggressively shaking your body as if money would start falling out of your pockets. “Shrimpyyyy, c’mon tell Floydie how you did it!” He whined

You released a loud sigh, putting your hands over Floyd’s to hopefully cease his actions. “Fine, I used martial arts.”

Floyd still had an iron grip on your shoulders, but upon hearing the boring explanation for your royal take down of a Diasomnia student, he slumped down with a pout. “That simple of an explanation? You should’ve just spit it out.”

His disappointed frown then turned into a large, sharp-toothy grin as he eagerly brushed passed you towards the poor student you knocked out. “Let me help ya dispose of the body!”

“FLOYD.”

𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐋-𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐌

After finally being let out from his afternoon classes, Kalim was ready to get back to the dorm and set up for the banquet later that evening. But much to his surprise, he was soon met with a tantalizing sight upon turning the corner.

You, the esteemed prefect, famously known for rivaling even Silver in the sleepyhead department, towered over a student adorning a Savanaclaw uniform. The boy didn’t seem injured, at least not from where Kalim was standing. Whatever trick you had pulled, it must’ve been a smooth take down.

This had the housewarden immediately intrigued.

Without missing a beat, the boy happily skipped over to where you stood. The books held in his hands were in a vice grip, his excitement could barely be contained. Attending Night Raven sure did have it’s surprises, but he was abnormally eager to approach you himself.

The white haired boy excitedly exclaimed.“Whoa, how’d you do that?”

You spun around to face the stranger before you, then it hit you. Didn’t this guy look familiar? The garnet-red eyes, the white hair, and even the blindingly bright smile seemed recognizable. Oh, it was Kalim! Well, shit. This guy was notorious for having the determination of a lion working it’s damndest to catch it’s prey, there was no way you were getting out of this. The universe must hate you.

In a desperate attempt to escape the situation, you tried to brush him off. “Please excuse me.”

You began walking in the opposite direction, but this housewarden was not going to give up.

Kalim continued to wear his bright smile, running up next to you to match paces. “But, you were the only one around who could’ve done something like this.”

Incredulously, your eyes widened and you began to pick up the pace. “No, he was like that when I found him.”

Kalim put his hands together like a puppy asking for treats. “Please, tell me your secrets.”

His eyebrows then raised and a light bulb lit up above him. “I know, you can come to the banquet tonight and we’ll be able to talk all about it!”

Your feet stopped and you were sure your face held the most confused look one could hold. You couldn’t help but turn to face him. “What?”

Kalim bounced on the balls of his feet, eagerness radiating off of him. “You’re officially invited to the banquet tonight!”

You didn’t even know what to say to this.

And Kalim did not give you the time to answer. The boy gave you a grin and a quick wave. “I’ll see you later, banquet duty calls!”

“Wait-!”

Kalim didn’t give you time to speak before he was already running off towards the Hall of Mirrors, clearly in high spirits because of his new friend. Friend? You weren’t sure that the two of you had immediately reached that status, you mean, you had just met minutes ago. Though, an inkling feeling that he already thought of you as friends kept seeping into your mind.

It was pleasant. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go to the banquet.

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑

Jamil Viper, a calm and collected individual, never one to stand out too much, or cause trouble for others. Or at least, that’s how you knew him before this incident.

It had been a normal day, as normal as a day could be at Night Raven College, and you had your sights set on someone. Typically, you were a student that wouldn’t dare meddle or get in fights with anyone. But a certain second year Scarabia student just had to be a jerk to Ortho, the only person in NRC who’s kindness rivaled Kalim’s, and you were not about to let this guy get away with his crimes against your good friend.

So, you set up a time and a place. Of course, you were not going to use your fists against this guy. You simply wanted a productive conversation to be held, like mature teenagers should have. But, no. The man came at you full throttle, he clearly did not read the letter you gave him at all. Whatever now became of him was in self-defense, and before you knew it he was on the ground.

And Jamil Viper had witnessed it. Not just a sliver of the altercation, all of it.

There was a silent staring contest between the two of you, no one dared to utter a word. It was thick and quite frankly, an odd situation to find yourself in. Jamil has had his fair share of weird encounters, but at this point he did not care about that. This was the icing on the cake to his already long, arduous list of tasks he needed to complete for the day.

To put it simply, his patience was thin.

“He came at me first.” You quickly mumbled, already sensing the displeasure emanating from the vice housewarden.

Jamil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself down. “I saw, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

Although you felt tired after having used your energy, you didn’t want to make him do it alone. It was not going to be an easy task to carry a boy over half his weight to the nurses office by himself. “You sure? I can at least come to the nurses office with you.”

Despite your willingness to help, Jamil declined. “That won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

He knelt down to the students place on the floor, grabbed his arm and wrapped it around his shoulder to take him to the nurses office. He didn’t say another word either, simply walked off.

You stood still for a moment, soaking in whatever the hell just happened. “See you around?” You muttered.

It was not until a few months later during your time training for the SDC that Jamil mentioned the incident regarding the Scarabia student again during a conversation over some snacks.

“I was trying to be discreet about the situation, it wasn’t like I asked to start a fight!” You argued.

Jamil frowned, crossing his arms. “You were not at all discreet about what you were doing, [Name]. Keep your voice lower if you’re going to go against school rules.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, already reaching your hand into the bag to grab another chip. “I’ll definitely keep that mind next time I get into a fight.” You retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

That shit-eating grin Jamil loved to wear made it’s way to his face as he questioned you. “Oh, so there will be a next time?”

Your eyes immediately hardened into a glare. “I hate you.”

He scoffed, leaning back in his chair all while continuing to wear that smile of his. “Lovely to know that I’m now an accomplice in your ‘Journey for Justice.’”

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑

It was a beautiful sunny day when the incident occurred. Silver was enjoying a well deserved nap under a green, flourishing tree where the shade was just the perfect amount, not too hot and not too cold. There wasn’t a single person around to make a lot of noise either, just the sounds of the leaves rustling back and forth. The conditions were absolutely perfect.

That was until the peacefulness ended.

The Diasomnia student slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light. He then let out a yawn, using his hands to push himself up into a sitting position. Then, he saw it.

You, the prefect, regarded for your sleepiness and kindness, being aggressively screamed at by a student in a Heartslabyul uniform. It seemed that you weren’t in immediate danger, but the boy was getting more hostile by the minute. That much Silver could tell and he wasn’t going to allow someone to get hurt.

He began getting to his feet when something interesting occurred, and it happened in only a matter of seconds. Silver’s theory proved to be true, the Heartslabyul student became more hostile and attempted to throw a punch at your face. Instead, you expertly dodged it and quickly used your hands to hit specific points on his body, causing him to clatter to the ground, completely unconscious.

It was something Silver had never seen before and he was intrigued.

With a grunt, you lifted the unconscious boys arm over your shoulder, though it proved to be quite difficult. The whole situation made you angrily curse under your breath. ���I hope you learned your lesson. Picking on underclass men is a low thing to do and you know it, especially when you’ve taken it too far. Riddle is not going to like this.”

Ah, so it was a noble act.

Regardless, Silver hastily made his way over to where you stood. He didn’t hesitate with his words either. “If you don‘t mind me asking, what tactic did you use to take down that student?”

Silver’s voice surprised you, he was always quiet in class and you had never really taken the time to pay attention to anything but your instructor. You truly didn’t know what to think, so you didn’t. You spoke without thinking. “Oh, that.”

Well, shit. No pretending like you weren’t involved anymore.

Upon seeing the look on your face, Silver awkwardly coughed. “Please excuse me for asking.”

You shook your head, the cat was already out of the bag. “It’s alright, there’s no hiding it now. You saw everything, didn’t you? What I used to take down this man was a form of martial arts called kyusho jitsu, it uses pressure points to take down an opponent.”

Silver’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “That’s very interesting. Would you mind telling me more?”

You grimaced, taking a glance down at the unconscious boy resting on your shoulder. “Sorry, maybe another time? I need to get this guy to the nurses office.”

Silver didn’t hesitate to move to the other side of the student, repeating the same action of lifting the boys arm around his shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind if I assist you.”

Giving him a thankful smile, you turned to face towards the hall leading east. “Thank you. I never got your name by the way, mine is [Name]. And yours?”

He returned the gesture with a small grin. “I’m Silver.”

“Pleased to officially meet you then, Silver.”

“Likewise.”

@𝐯𝐪𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐝 — ˚ ✦ . ˚. - please do not translate or plagiarize my works.

[sapphiresaphics]

Okay. Here we go then.

What you’re looking for is direct confirmation. You don’t like that things are implied because that isn’t enough of a confirmation for you. You need it to be EXPLICITLY stated, and not hinted at. You need the Piltover atrocities to be EXPLICITLY shown to have consequences. You deliberately point out that you wanted the writers to focus

Case in point, the gassing of Zaun. You’re under the impression that Caitlyn gassed ALL of Zaun. Not only is this a just wildly inaccurate to what actually happened in the show, but it’s showing that you need to exaggerate things to the extreem to be angry. Caitlyn couldn’t just use the grey to take out the chembaronss, she must have ALSO gassed all of Zaun and hurt women and children. Because then you can be fully outraged and nearly file Caitlyn’s actions away in the “bad” box.

This is also why you need to SEE the consequences so you KNOW that the actions were bad. It doesn’t matter that the show gives you this information indirectly, no… it needs to be DIRECTLY. Because that’s what nuance means to you. DIRECT ANSWERS.

The gas does not spread. The gas does not remain. The gas is not affecting the children. That is NEVER SHOWN. You have FABRICATED this idea because you NEED a reason to hate Piltover and satisfy your moral outrage.

Does not matter that Jinx tied a man upside down over a grey vent for god knows how long… nah, that’s not a bad act. Because Jinx is part of the undercity. And the undercity = good. And Piltover = bad. So whatever Jinx does must be good. And if the show has ANY sympathy for the people in Piltover, that’s the show SIDING with Piltover!

Because depiction is endorsement in your eyes. You need to SEE consequences to grasp that they were good or bad. And the fact that the show does not give you clear answers makes you INFURIATED because your tiny brain can’t connect the dots properly. Therefor the writers suck. The writers are cowards. The writers didn’t go “far enough” depicting the atrocities (in a PG show) because they were “scared of commitment.”

That is black and white thinking. This obsessive NEED to categorize everything into specific boxes so you can respond accurately to each scenario. Sorry, but life doesn’t work that way. Sometimes you’re gonna be left without answers and you’re going to have to figure things out on your own. And if you’re wrong, that’s just a failure on your part to figure stuff out.

Need more help?

has anyone else noticed that the writers were absolutely reluctant to fully commit to the darker implications of piltover's actions? like the gas attack on zaun? but tbh the writers' self-sabotaging of arcane's potential as social commentary is not what's really frustrating, it's that it's not just a missed opportunity, it’s a deliberate avoidance. the writers couldn't make piltover that bad, at least not through the characters we have to follow.

with the gas attack, what we get are scattered hints: a single man coughing, kids praying to janna in a song (in a way that’s super easy to miss), and worship of a painting of janna. but the show never fully depicts the suffering caused by the gas. it never commits to the atrocity and by refusing to depict the actual impact, the show softens piltover’s culpability and allows a big part of the audience to either overlook or justify it.

but the gas attack aside, the writers had two opportunities to make an explicit statement about systemic oppression, environmental racism, and the true cost of unchecked industrial power but they avoided doing so. and those two clearest instances of this avoidance are in how the show handles viktor and orianna:

in season 2, viktor’s story is literally warped to avoid blaming piltover. viktor, a character who should represent the suffering zaunites endure because of piltover’s neglect, is instead pushed into the role of an irredeemable villain for a marvelesque shit show. his transformation discards his humanity so blatantly that the audience is distracted from the actual injustice: he was dying because of piltover.

his ending is framed around jayce’s “beauty in imperfection” speech as if he should have just accepted his disability rather than seeking a cure, when the reality is, he wasn’t just disabled, he was dying because of the system piltover built. that was his entire struggle in season 1, but by season 2’s end, the narrative no longer engages with it to protect piltover.

as for orianna, she is reduced to an easter egg as a gift to league of legends fans (which is funny because the show ruined her lore for them), but more importantly, to avoid critiquing piltover.

her lore was an explicit condemnation of piltover’s disregard for zaunite lives. she was a little girl who helped zaunites, got sick due to piltover’s pollution, and had to slowly replace her own body with machinery until she lost all humanity. but arcane erases this. she’s barely a cameo, and the audience isn’t even told how she died. the show doesn’t just sideline her suffering, it removes it entirely, sanitizing piltover’s guilt in the process.

more importantly, all of this lets a big part of the audience defend piltover. for instance, by never showing the gas’s impact, the show gives certain viewers the option to ignore it: no bodies, no long-term sickness, no undeniable, inescapable horror. and i'm sure we've all seen how this allows for interpretations that justify piltover’s actions in the fandom, whether that means erasing the gas attack’s consequences or framing it as acceptable because the victims are zaunites (who are often conveniently portrayed as violent criminals).

also, ekko’s line about rescuing more people because of gang fighting is a perfect example of how the show subtly misdirects the audience. yes, gang violence is an issue, but it’s not the only crisis. the gas remains, it spreads, it poisons the people, especially the children working in factories. those are also people the firelights must have rescued. but the show chooses to highlight one crisis over another, and we know why ...

anyway, it's sad that the writers had no balls. they let so many people feel comfortable not thinking too hard about piltover’s crimes, and comfortable enough to insult anyone who criticizes characters participating in those crimes, especially caitlyn and her squad.