#that i can usually remember if i like or dislike it though

[kerosene-saint]

my bad memory effects me in such weird ways.

[nightingale-prompts]

God's TV- DC x DP prompt

Accidentally summoning a god from another dimension can happen, especially when cults are involved. However, no can could predict that the not only was the god a teenage boy but also a very bored teenage boy who didn't want to leave.

So he stayed and moved into Titans tower.

Danny is helpful (when he wants to be) but rarely goes out on missions. He says they are boring and nothing is dangerous enough to exert the effort. Instead, he minds the medical bay. Having a healer more than made up for the lack of help.

It's not like anyone disliked Danny or thought he didn't do anything it was just that he was unpredictable. Danny could be nice, considerate, and even sweet if he was working in the medbay. He could also be a pain in the ass anywhere else. He loved pranks and scaring people with his powers. He was harmless though.

No one really knew what he did all day. He was usually in his room doing something they guested. Said room was an anomaly. It was larger on the inside having been made into a pocket dimension. The appearance and organization of the room changed every time you went in.

It was after one mission that the team learned what was in the room.

A rogue had used their invention to erase Superboy's memories and they didn't know what to do. They took him to Danny who was currently rearranging the medicine by color. They hoped that his powers covered mind-altering afflictions. Unfortunately, Danny couldn't wave a hand and fix this.

Instead, Danny took the group to his room. The decor was neon Tokyo meets space right now. The furniture was currently floating and almost hitting Wonder Girl in the head with an end table. Of course, there was no gravity here.

"Stay here while I grab it," Danny said flying up the vertical corridor.

While he was gone the room rearranged itself into a contemporary format. The furniture grounded itself and shifted into a normal living room.

Danny returned with a cart and a headset. He placed a card he pulled out of the cart into the headset and put it on the dazed Superboy's head.

"Wait what is that?" Tim asked.

"It's his memories. I kept a backup in case this happened." Danny shrugged.

Immediately everyone began asking what the hell does that mean and why does he have that.

"Oh please, this dimension has this happened all the time. Amnesia is so cliché and cheap. I saw a pattern and decided the easiest way to prevent you from losing the entirety of your lives was to make save states of your memories." Danny said matter of fact.

Robin pinched the bridge of his nose.

Impulse studied the rack of cases and looking for the card with his name on it.

Wondergirl sighed, she was used to this from Robin but even he wouldn't go this far.

"What? It's not like just anyone can find these. Only you can access your own memories anyways. I just decided to repurpose my RE:Viewer." Danny pouted.

"What is a reviewer?" Wally asked flipping through the cases. Each one had titles like moves or shows with an arrangement of stickers.

"The RE:Viewer is something I created to catalog things I've seen looking into other dimensions. I don't have an infinite memory you know. But the longer I have my title the more I'll lose touch with my mortality. These things help me stay close to people by giving me the chance to remember how it feels. I also have been using them to get the stories of others. Keeping their experiences like you'd keep a TV show or movie. So many stories could have been lost to time but now they are saved. I use them to teach myself." Danny smiled.

The concept genuinely sounded interesting. Like experiencing a movie in 4d.

It had been 3 minutes before Kon took off the headset and back to his old self.

Danny pulled the input card out and it disappeared into another realm with a flick of the wrist. Danny was completely honest that the copies were inaccessible to everyone but him.

"You feeling alright Superboy? Your memory should be backed up until a week ago." Danny said shining a light in his eye.

"I'm fine. I think. What happened?" Kon asked batting the light out of his eyes.

"Explanation later. Take a nap first. You aren't concussed at least." Danny informed.

"What are the stickers for?" Wally said pointing at the rainbow of colors the card cases had.

"Just the emotions associated with the experiences. Orange is comedy, red is action, pink is romance, and blue is tragedy." Danny listed. "That one with the pink is one of my favorites. I meddled a bit in that world. Two people who had never met fell in love at two points at different times. One of them was doomed to die but I worked my magic on a mirror that allowed them to meet once. They shared notes left in different places for the other months ahead. Makes you believe in true love. A real tear-jerker."

"What about the black stickers?" Wally asked.

"Don't touch the black ones," Danny said darkly, smacking his hand away. "You don't need to know about those. I don't like thinking about them."

"So you just take the memories of others and put them inside your machine to replay later?" Batgirl asked. "Isn't that kind of wrong?"

"No, I asked permission. I usually pull them aside at some point and ask. If it's my memories (that's the green stickers) I don't need to. The rainbow ones are simulations. Like a video games." Danny responded patting her on the back for not being to hard on him about this admittedly weird situation.

"So what's the black one with the rainbow sticker?" Wally asked picking up the case that was obviously stuffed in the back.

"STOP TOUCHING THOSE!" Danny yelled pulling him away.

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] reacting to their s/o wearing parfum

As usual, if you'd like to read more of my work, I have an ongoing Arcane fanfiction, Everytime It Rains (based on the alternative timeline). Click here! to read it. As for this headcanon, I had run out of my perfume stash and just restocked with Scandal, Black Opium, Honey Aoud, and Bianco Latte (all sweet with vanilla notes). So, this headcanon is my way of channeling the euphoria of my perfume obsession.

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |

Jayce:

He’s not overly sensitive to perfumes. If you spray it while in the same room as him, he doesn’t feel the need to leave because he can’t breathe.

For this very reason, it always takes him a little while—not to notice it, but to figure out where it’s coming from.

The sweeter the scent, the more likely his first assumption is that you’ve bought or baked something sweet while he wasn’t around.

When you laugh and tell him there are no sweets and it’s your new perfume, he’s a little embarrassed but in a sweet, endearing way.

He’ll hug you, press his nose into the crook of your neck, and take in as much of the scent as he can to memorize it.

He doesn’t have issues with any scent. Sweeter ones make him sniff you more often because they make his mouth water, while spicier, “evening” notes are something he enjoys when you’re resting against him.ù

Viktor:

He’s very sensitive to perfumes; freshly sprayed scents give him headaches and make him feel short of breath.

This is probably a lingering effect from Zaun—his body reacts viscerally the moment the air isn’t clean and well-oxygenated.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate it. You just need to let the alcohol component fade a bit before getting close to him, or at least spray it in another room.

He’s a bit more reserved than others; he’ll sniff it from your wrist while holding it lightly.

“Mh… yes, I’ve always dreamed of being in a relationship with a pastry shop.”

“You mean a pastry chef.”

“No, I know what I said.”

Ekko:

This man is a truffle dog; he notices the moment you arrive with a different scent.

His talent is playing it cool, becoming flirtier, and acting like a caricature of a gentleman trying to court you.

He prefers spicier scents to sweeter ones. If you wear something with vanilla notes, he’ll tease you, saying you smell like “the cake served by a Piltie’s servants,” but he doesn’t actually dislike it.

If a mission is particularly bad or he has a bad feeling about the day, he’ll ask you to spray some of your perfume on a handkerchief he keeps in his pocket, so he can hold on to your scent and feel closer to you.

Vander:

You could spray it directly into his nose, and he couldn’t care less. With the bar, he’s used to strong smells from cleaning products, spirits, and late-night disasters.

The alcohol in perfumes doesn’t bother him.

The downside is that he doesn’t notice it right away—he just doesn’t pay attention to it.

He generally tries to give you his full attention, but these little details sometimes slip past him. When you point it out, he’ll immediately try to make up for it if he remembers noticing something different in the air that day.

He’ll sniff it from your neck, slowly moving downward, justifying it as “trying to see how it blends with your natural scent.”

Silco (old man):

He prefers bold perfumes with character, like amber or woody scents, and finds excessively sweet ones rather childish.

He won’t hesitate to share this opinion in front of you.

He’s the kind of man who enjoys tobacco, wears Acqua di Giò, drinks warm whiskey—in short, he favors bitter and spicy notes.

But that won’t stop him from quickly growing accustomed to the scent he initially disliked so much, the one that makes you recognizable even as you ascend the stairs.

He’ll look for something similar or with complementary notes to gift you himself, though he’ll never admit that he’s come to appreciate it.

Silco (young man):

It’s rare for there to be an occasion to wear perfume, which is why the same evening you show up at the bar wearing it, he notices immediately.

He doesn’t have a particular preference for perfumes. But his love language is sarcasm, so regardless, he’ll make an ironic (but not mean) comment before telling you it suits you.

When you’re away, he’ll look for a piece of your clothing with the strongest scent to sleep with so he can feel close to you. When he’s the one far away, he’ll ask you to give him something, anything, with a bit of your scent on it.

He won’t sniff you in public—only when you’re alone, in private.

Jinx:

She loves sweet scents and hates bitter or overly amber ones.

“You smell like a pastry.”

The sweeter the perfume, the more likely you’ll catch her sniffing you or your things, just a moment before she clutches her stomach, whining about craving chocolate, caramel, or something sweet.

She’ll ask for a spritz of your perfume too, so she can smell as if “she just walked out of a bakery.” too

She prefers when you spray it in her hideout or in one of her rooms, so it clings to things and improves the overall smell.

Vi:

She doesn’t notice it right away because it’s not the sort of thing she pays attention to.

On one hand, she doesn’t love perfumes or anything that covers up natural scents. She prefers your smell—your skin’s scent—the one that drives her wild.

On the other hand, perfume is a fancy thing that hasn’t been much of a reality in her life, except for the cologne Vander used to wear.

Which was suffocating because he always overdid it.

She prefers spicier scents over sweet ones but doesn’t dislike anything.

She’ll kiss your hand and offer her arm, mimicking a fancy Piltover couple, babbling nonsense about non-existent upcoming galas and the finest shoe polish brands.

Caitlyn:

“How does she react?” When? When she’s accompanying you to buy it?

If you’re torn between more than one perfume, she’ll buy you the other without letting you know.

She notices immediately when you wear it, smiles at you, lifts your face, and kisses you with the unspoken understanding that this small indulgence is your personal little secret.

Those days tend to heat up quickly, often ending on the bed before you even realize it.

For the most important evenings, she’ll suggest which one you should wear.

Mel:

She hates overly sweet perfumes, finding them suffocating and cloying.

She doesn’t overdo her own perfume either, spraying twice into the air and walking through the mist so it’s not too strong or unnatural.

She prefers it once it’s already faded, so she can still breathe when she kisses you.

Ultimately, she’ll grow accustomed to whatever you wear. Sure, she’d prefer a citrusy or more floral scent, but as long as it’s on you, anything is acceptable.

Sevika:

She prefers none at all. She likes the natural scent of skin, whether it’s faint or strong.

She finds perfumes draw too much attention.

She’d never tell you this outright, though. However, if your perfume is too sweet, she’ll tease you, saying she didn’t realize she was dating a brioche. If it’s too strong and bitter, she’ll joke that you’re giving her PTSD and making her feel like she’s at work.

She doesn’t mind when you wear it on nights out together, because if someone notices the scent and turns around, they’ll see you’re with her.

[harrysfolklore]

how is piastri sis feeling with this being carlos last ferrari race? cuz i’m feeling emotional

AHHH CARLOS' LAST RACE WITH FERRARI 🥺 im so emo but also really really proud of him. and so is our girl piastri sis. enjoy!

READ LITTLE BITCH HERE

The motorhome is quiet, the usual post-race bustle muted by the weight of finality. Carlos sits on the couch, still in his race suit with the Ferrari logo that's no longer his, staring at nothing. You watch him from the doorway, heart aching at the emotion written across his face.

"I can hear you thinking from here," he says softly, not looking up.

You move to sit beside him, taking his hand. His fingers automatically intertwine with yours, a habit now.

"I keep thinking about what I said," your voice is barely a whisper. "At the beginning of the season. About hoping you wouldn't find a seat."

"Mi amor-"

"No, let me finish," you squeeze his hand. "Seeing you now, knowing how much the Ferrari exit hurt... I was so cruel. So insensitive. Just because I was angry about Oscar-"

"You apologized months ago," he turns to face you, eyes soft. "Went we grabbed sushi and said you were sorry for being harsh."

"I know, but..." you touch his face. "Watching you take that last lap today, seeing how emotional you were on team radio... it just hit me again how horrible those words were. How much you were already hurting when I said them."

He catches your hand, kissing your palm. "I wasn't exactly kind to you either back then. Or to Oscar on track."

"Still-"

"No, listen," he pulls you closer. "That comment? It led to our first real conversation. When you apologized, I knew something had shifted. And now look at us."

You lean into him, remembering how that sushi outing led to him kissing you after, and changing everything forever.

"Besides," he continues with a small smile, "I did find a seat. Williams is excited to have me. And more importantly..." he kisses your forehead, "I found you."

"Smooth little bitch," you murmur against his chest.

"It's true though," his voice gets serious. "Leaving Ferrari hurts, yes. But this year? Getting to know you, falling in love with you? It's worth every painful moment."

"Even when I was being a protective sister?"

"Even then," he chuckles. "Though I prefer when you're being a protective girlfriend now."

You look up at him. "I'm so proud of how you handled everything this year. The Ferrari news, the criticism, the uncertainty... you stayed professional through it all."

"Had someone pretty amazing supporting me," he pulls you into his lap. "Someone who went from hating me to loving me."

"I never really hated you," you protest. "I just... strongly disliked your on-track decisions."

He laughs properly then, the sound chasing away some of the melancholy. "And now?"

"Now I strongly like everything about you," you kiss him softly. "Even your questionable racing moves."

"Hey!"

"Kidding," you stroke his cheek. "I'm so excited to see you at Williams. They're lucky to have you."

He holds you tighter. "Will you wear their merch next year?"

"Of course. But I'm keeping one Ferrari shirt."

"Oh?"

"Your race-worn one from today," you smile. "For memories."

His eyes get emotional again. "I love you. So much."

"I love you too," you rest your forehead against his. "Ferrari chapter is closing, but we're just getting started."

He kisses you deeply, pouring everything he can't say into it.

Later, Oscar sends a photo to the group chat Of Carlos's last Ferrari lap with you watching from the garage, wearing his team shirt.

"From enemies to this. Still wild."

Carlos saves it immediately because sometimes the best endings lead to better beginnings. And sometimes "I hope you don't find a seat" turns into "I hope you never leave my side"

[lumi077]

X-Men HCs

A/N: my hyperfixations are not very hyperfixating rn. literally they’re changing so fast. But take some nice little relationship headcanons, and the next Chapter of Winters’ Servants is coming soon!!

Characters included: Logan (Wolverine), Scott (Cyclops), Kurt (NightCrawler), Jean

Warnings: potential OOC, nothing else really. kept it nice and light.

Logan (Wolverine):

Logan would absolutely, if you use them, stretch out your new hairbands for you. If you express that you dislike using them unless stretched, he’ll offer to wear them on his wrists for a day or two till they’re stretched to your liking. It could be the most girly hair ties and he’ll proudly wear three on each wrist. When asked, he’ll happily tell them “Just stretchin ‘em for my woman/man/partner”

Scary dog privileges? Scary dog privileges. He adores making you feel safe enough to wear the most skin revealing or feminine clothing. You want to wear something revealing/very feminine but tell him you're scared? He’ll instantly assure you and tell you to wear anything you want. If someone says something, he won’t hesitate to shut them up before you even hear.

There’s going to be a point in your relationship that you’ll realize he absolutely doesn’t care about any of the gross stuff you do. Burp, Fart, don’t shave? He really doesn’t care in the least bit. Definitely the boyfriend that will go, unphased, into the bathroom while you're on the toilet and brush his teeth or shower without a care in the world. If you are comfortable that is, and he secretly preens when he realizes that you're comfy enough to do that stuff around him lol.

I wholeheartedly believe that when he realizes he wants you to be his forever partner, he’ll gift you his dog tags. His past is very personal to him, because he could never remember it for a good part of it. His dog tags are only second to him getting down on one knee. 

Speaking of getting down on one knee, sorry for all the people who want it to be a surprise, but he won’t make a big deal and will tell you about his plans beforehand. No surprise engagement, and no public one. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he wants to make sure you’re ready and want it too. He doesn’t put much on marriage because it doesn’t change much, and doesn't want you to feel pressured to say yes because there are people there. He’ll love you the same married or not, but he does note how pretty you look with the ring he bought you on your finger.

I personally believe he would be more likely to get in a committed relationship with another mutant. I just think a lot of the X-Men would want to be able to relate to their partner and have their partner relate to them, and Logan is going to live a long life so…I can't truly see him with a normal person. 

If you are apart of the X-Men, while he won’t baby you or anything, he finds himself keeping an eye on you the most. There have been a fair amount of times that you find yourself having a Logan shield on the field, and even more often if you are susceptible to projectiles. 

Dates are a norm at this point, Fridays are always the day he takes you out. It’s usually the same place, but he thinks it’s nice. 

Flowers are also a norm, if you mention you like them. 

He doesn’t do much on Valentine’s day because he already does all the normal valentine’s day stuff it weekly or bi-weekly. Does get cheat food so you guys can eat it and watch stupid rom com movies though. 

Scott (Cyclops):

First and Foremost Scott is such a golden retriever. Anything you want, he obtains quickly and with 0 thoughts of you getting him something in return. He just wants to see his partner happy and healthy, with a smile on their face as often as possible.

He is very big on PDA, likes to hold your hand, or slip an arm around your waist, put his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, etc. Overall he just likes touching you, and just because you're in public doesn’t mean anything.

Adding on to his liking of PDA, I feel like he’s possessive. Like in the one X-Men movie, when Logan goes into the past and stops bad shit from happening and goes to touch Jean and he blocks him? Yeah he does that with you but with everyone. He likes people knowing your his and what’s better than you two being attached at the hip in public?

He likes when you wear his things as well, not so much for people knowing you’re his like mentioned above but just because you're adorable in it. Want his sweatshirt? He’s giving it to you even though it's negative 5 out. His cologne? Just take the whole bottle, even though it’s brand new. He’ll get another one!!

When he’s on missions and away, he gives you so many shirts and even a pair of sweats. Sprays the stuffed animals he got you with his cologne, same with your pillows. He will expect the same if it’s you going away for a long time. Or you’ll come back to him sleeping on your side of the bed where it smells the most like you, his face stuffed in one of your pillows that has one of your shirts on it. 

He is very vocal about being your boyfriend, and you being his partner. Everyone in the world knows, yet no one asked. He’ll gush about you to whoever will listen, the rest of the team is so done but they do admit his devotion to you is adorable.

All the ladies and gents and nonbinary pals who want an over the top surprise proposal, this is your man. It’s super romantic, he pays for your nails if you wear them, getting your hair done, and a new outfit. And you can’t even tell it’s because he wants to propose because he does this all the time. Then he takes you to your fav restaurant and pops the question.

Make no mistake though, he has to be 100% sure that you want him to propose to do so. He’s so attuned to you and your likings he gets your dream ring without having to ask everyone close to you first. Which also assures him no one can spoil the surprise.

He is one of the few ones who probably doesn’t care if you're a mutant or not, because his love is 100% blind. He would probably want a mutant partner, but once he falls he falls hard.

He also won’t baby you if you’re in the X-Men, but if he happens to laser them first? Not his fault.

Kurt (NightCrawler):

He is a very shy partner at first. But once he falls for you, and you make it obvious you have fallen for him it all goes out the window. He is a completely different person around you, confident and flirty. He is just so in love. 

Teases you almost constantly, he’s a teaser with everyone but he loves to see you blush and squirm from his words. 

Loves if you run your fingers through his fur, and almost emits a low purr when you do. If you brush it for him, especially if he doesn’t ask you but you WANT to, he swears he is going to marry you one day. 

He takes you places you told him you wanted to go to when you guys were in the talking stage. Paris? Done, let’s get some baguettes for back home! The Bahamas? Pack a bathing suit, and make sure to bring the detangling brush.

He loves non sexual acts of intimacy, like taking baths together!! Your fingers feel like heaven on his scalp when you massage the shampoo and conditioner in his hair. He also loves touching your body, he’s always careful with the fact he has claws but he would never dream of hurting you.

Big on cuddling and all that stuff in private, but I feel like he would want to keep it behind closed doors. Not because he doesn’t love you, but because he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands on you otherwise. 

Long missions with him are never a problem, he’ll just teleport to you wherever you may be and spend time with you before heading back. 

He’s your call bird, and the gossip you two are able to share with one another? It is divine. He seems to know everything, and you know the most obvious stuff but he always makes you feel like Sherlock Holmes when you tell him things he already heard and was going to tell you about. Which is why he always makes you spill the tea first lol.

For marriage and proposing, I can see him accidentally proposing on a mission. Tensions are high, and he’s worried that one of you won’t make it home to the other. The thought alone makes him dread the upcoming battle, but he grabs your hand and looks into your eyes and states with all the conviction in the world “We’ll get married after this.”

You brush it off, after you both survive the battle, that he didn’t mean it. He just wanted you to know how much he loved you. But oh how wrong you are when you walk into a room with all your close friends and family, Kurt in the middle down on one knee and asking you to marry him. Your face was priceless, and lucky for him everyone took pictures. 

He definitely carries around a photo with you wherever he goes, and when he prays he takes it out and not only asks that God protect him, but you as well because there is no life beyond you. Even if you’re not religious he’ll still do it, just for the peace of mind. 

Jean:

She’s the black cat of the relationship for sure. I mean, she has a lot of issues but she always makes you her first priority. 

She keeps tabs on you constantly. What’s your mood, why? She’ll talk to you in your mind when you’re anxious to calm you, and let you know that she’s there with you. She’s probably an anxious persons’ best friend. You don’t even have to talk, she knows what you mean and changes accordingly. 

She is big on communication for sure. If you do something that bothers or hurts her feelings she will sit you down and talk to you about it. And she has this certain way of doing that doesn’t make you feel guilty. She’s just letting you know what she does and doesn’t like and won’t tell anyone else. These things are very private to her. And she expects you to do the same, and her feelings are never hurt by it. 

Jean’s type of love is selfless. She would put herself in danger tenfold just to keep you safe. Mutant or not, she would be the one to baby you if you’re a part of the X-Men as well. There’s always a kind of bubble around you, that not many but you notice. Hence, people think you’re indestructible because you’re the only one who came back uninjured for the fourth time. 

She wants to be independent, but also loves when you do stuff for her. She will never ask, but her heart warms so much when she sees you did something for her because you wanted too and not because she asked. 

She plans your dream proposal. She is almost a roommate in your own mind, she knows what you like and don’t like. 

Small extra blurb: imagine giving telepathic hints that you want a proposal. She thinks “Why are they broadcasting their ring si-ooooh. I see.”

She is so gentle with you, almost afraid that you’ll break and it’ll be all her fault. The way her hands gently caress you or how she holds your hand is so incredibly gentle.

[bunni-v1]

Thoughts on a threesome with Lighter and Harumasa

MDNI!!

Tw: NSFW; VERYYYY OOC lol; double penetration in one hole (only mentioned at the end lol); Rough sex; Fem! Reader; unedited and written with a serious fucking migraine like my god

I’m so fucking sick today but I had an idea so… imagineeeeee with me if you will…

You and Lighter are walking around New Eirdu, picking things up for the girls, running errands, usual shit. It’s a nice little routine thing the two of you have. He gets his job done and gets to spend time with you, win win!

He turns around for one second — literally one second just looking at some flowers (for you, btw) — and when he turns back around your attention is occupied. Not only is it occupied, but it’s taken by Asaba Harumasa. Sweet talking, ever flirty Asaba Harumasa.

He’s not a bad guy, honestly, Lighter doesn’t dislike him. You’d mentioned once or twice how you knew the guy. Some kinda old fuck buddy, it wasn’t anything Lighter cared about too much. You were his partner after all, it would be stupid not to trust you.

Him, though, Lighter didn’t trust him one bit. Not with the subtle touches and the unnecessary flirty comments. He watches you two veryyyy carefully, taking it all in until he can’t take it anymore and he has to pull you into his side.

“Oh! Lighter, fancy seeing you here~” Harumasa purrs in such a sickeningly sweet tone.

He makes it very clear that you and he are and item, but that only seems to egg Haru on further… His little comments getting more and more bold, pointed and intentional in riling him up. You’re stuck in the middle of an ego war that you can’t break up (and have no idea why it’s happening).

Then, somehow, the conversation is steered toward your sex life. No one is really sure how or why, but Harumasa and Lighter are having a literal dick measuring contest in front of you when Harumasa suggests that they should “Find out who you like better.”

Anddd that’s how you ended up with Lighter pounding into your sopping cunt from behind and Harumasa fucking your throat like it was the end of the world. Their little competition forgotten in favor of making you squirm beneath them <3

You’d cum at least four times now and they seemed determined to make a fifth. They alternate what their hands are doing occasionally. Sometimes Harumasa is pulling at your hair, other times Lighter’s squeezing your tits in his hands. Regardless, not an inch of you is left untouched by either of them.

Harumasa pulls out from your throat, and in your fucked out state you try follow him only for Lighter to tug you back by your hair. You don’t even try to fight it when he manhandles you into a sitting position on his lap.

Your pussy is literally drooling down both of your thighs, and Lighter scoops some of it up and tastes it. Harumasa smiles at the sight, seemingly quite satisfied with himself, “Can I have a taste?”

You expect Lighter to maybe let him eat you out, or even just pick up some with his own fingers. Instead he pulls Harumasa forward and kisses him. You can only watch with big empty dazed eyes as they do so. You swear you hear Harumasa moan, but just as you’re getting to enjoy it, they seem to remember you’re there again.

“Feeling left out, baby?” Lighter hums as his fingers find your clit, rubbing fast circles.

Harumasa pushes your legs open, the two of them working to readjust you so your legs are thrown atop Lighters, Haru sliding himself between them. “I think she is, poor thing…”

You most certainly were not, but you weren’t going to say that. Lighter slides out of you, and you literally cry out at the loss of him. “Aww, I told ya she likes it. Look at her cryin’.”

Harumasa laughs dryly, tapping his member against Lighter still moving fingers, “Yeah, yeah, whatever makes you feel more secure.”

You whine at their arguing and they both coo back at you like you’re some kind of pet. They were plotting something sinister, you could feel it in the way Lighter kept pressing the tip of his dick against your ass. Certainly they didn’t expect you to take them both at the same time.

“There’s only one good way to determine who’s the best, right?” Harumasa purrs, nudging Lighter out of the way so he could properly tease your cunt.

“Mhm…” Lighter hums, “You can take both of us at once, right?”

Fuck.

[jolalibrary]

i’d look for you

din djarin x f!reader | masterlist

summary: din offers you something else in a field of wildflowers

warnings: 18+, allusion to smut ONLY. soft!din. idiots who have feelings but don't know what to do with them. jo's writing din so it gets weirdly poetic again. wordcount: 2k notes: pairing is the same as other din fics by me. but don’t need to read to enjoy. written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna Challenge - this fic has made me smile so much, I hope it does the same for you.

“Can you do something for me?”

The question hangs, burns, in the air of his bed. Your eyes blinking awake, having been roused from slumber by his gloved hand on your cheek.

You’re aware he’s waiting, biting the inside of your cheek, as you nod.

Swallowing the longer answer which burns on your tongue, finding it now tastes of acid and wrongness, having been trapped inside for so long, having let it overstay its welcome.

You suspect he knows it all anyway. Likely as easily able to read you, as you are him. Able to hear the words you don’t say, just from the way you stare at him, like a written passage all on its own.

He helps you up, but doesn’t hurry you. You almost smirk at the purposeful, cautious touches on your side, trailing his gloved hand along the curve of your back as he leads you to the refresher, awakening thoughts more sinful than you suspect is his intention.

It’s then he tells you the time, but shares nothing else about why the ship is quiet.

“What about—”

“He’s asleep.”

Your mouth clamps shut, taking the clothes he hands you as you bury the rest of the questions. Each piece you slide on, you don’t shy away as he stands waiting. Letting him stare, letting him take in the sight of you in more light than he can when your bodies usually writhe.

Are you admiring me, Din? you want to ask. Do you feel the invisible string between us too?

Sometimes, you dislike that he told you the shade of his eyes, because you look for them. Peer through the visor with more hope than you’d allowed yourself to have before.

“Can you turn around?”

It should sound like a command, but his tone is softer, more brittle. Something unspoken within it, tightening around each letter, bending and forging with it—likely things he’ll never admit.

Still, you obey. Closing your eyes as you feel him behind you, his presence crowding and looming—recollecting when he’d been barer than he is now, draped over you.

If you will it enough, you swear you can feel his breath fluttering over your shoulder—remembering how he makes you feel full and sated, content and happy. The last time, you’d been in a haze, fucked out, blissfully aware of the naked fingers resting at the base of your neck as you came down and the way he had tilted your head back and swallowed your whine like he knew it belonged to him.

You do, you think, belong to him.

Not because he has taken, but because he has earned—he has proven. A thing which rises to the tip of your tongue and sears alongside the other words which linger and ferment.

“Trust me,” he says.

Not a question, but an ask. And you don’t mean to, but an unintentional gasp escapes at the feel of the soft, smooth fabric when it slides over your eyes. Light fades as though he clicks his fingers, blanketing you in night in the middle of the day as it tightens around your head—rendering you quiet, shyer, almost smaller, as your sense is removed, willingly given but taken all the same.

Then you stand, breath hitching, anticipation threading through your veins as you wait. For him to move, to speak, to do. Each second stretches into eternity, making a protest wish to appear. A change of mind, a declaration of wishing to do something else, than this.

But, you don’t speak it. Instead, dancing your fingers against the tops of your thighs, waiting, not patiently, but not rushing.

“Relax.”

You snort to smother the shiver that darts down your spine at his voice.

Unsure how one does such a thing when you hear the ramp going down, subtly listening to the sound of water running. You feel lost, adrift in a sea of darkness—of nothingness—with every fibre of your being yearning for a familiar anchor, teeth rolling over your bottom lip as you fight the urge to whisper his name into the void, a silent plea for reassurance amidst the engulfing uncertainty.

Din, you think.

Wondering if he can hear his name in your mind. If he’ll come to your calling, hold your hand; allow you to ask if this is necessary, if this—

“Breathe.”

And you do.

Chest filling, lungs flooding—his gloved fingers sliding between your bare ones, rooting you as he repeats it. Calmness spreads through you inch by inch, in the same way he makes pleasure surge through your muscles.

He gives you a minute, a moment. Likely waiting until your head turns in the direction you think he’s in, before he leads, offering stony orders to be careful—one that almost makes you grin until your steps take your soles to meet something softer than his ship.

The smell greets you first. It’s crisp and sweet—unlike anything you’ve encountered. Then the drizzle, how it forces your clothing to bind to your skin in a way that should feel suffocating, but instead feels freeing. Lips beginning to stretch, teeth showing as your cheeks ache with the intensity of your grin.

It’s then you feel him move behind you, the squelch of his boots signifying it. His chest meets your spine, the ghost of his touch along the side of his neck, before you feel the fabric over your eyes, loosen and light begins to seep in.

Then, it goes from nothing to everything. It being almost too much to take in all at once—the unveiled surprise, the thing he’d wanted you to see in its wonder and not in pieces as you descended.

And—

“It’s beautiful.”

It being the delicate blooms that stretch out before you. Each one a mysterious burst of colour against a backdrop of greenery. Vibrant splashes of colour, all wild and free, rising from the ground like the scenes from books you used to read. With each sway and ripple in the breeze, you spot more flowers. All of them stirred by the falling rain, watching each motion, all in awe; lost for words.

Distantly, you become aware that he’s moved to the side of you, but you’re unable to tear your eyes from the world. Not able to take your sight from the striking array of hues, every colour flower you think you could ever imagine swaying. Because there are iridescent blues and purples; there are some that glow with luminous gold and reds that look stained with blood. Shares you can’t even name, but are drawn to, reluctant to steal your gaze until you spot another.

Fingers reaching out, knee bending, you touch one, find it softer, more delicate than you ever thought. Tears springing to your eyes, chest swarmed with warmth as you admire the way the stems twist and spiral in graceful arcs, all beaded with the sparkling mist that continues to fall.

“What do you think?”

“It’s…”

Words fail you, a thing you’re not sure he could ever believe.

The only conscious thought is that you wish to live amongst them. No words exist that can describe how serene you feel; how as wild or as drenched as the petals you admire.

Because it’s then you really notice the rain, coming to sit amongst the living and the flowers. Ground soaked with it, it falling in torrents. Each droplet is a percussion against your skin, seeping through the layers and soaking you to the bone.

It's a different kind of loveliness. It’s all free, raw and unyielding, a mosaic of shades that aren't bowing or converting into a glistening canvas of liquid silver—even if the skies try to.

In truth, you thought you’d seen rain. But this is something different.

It is more akin to the sky having been ripped open, split in two, cracked, all but pouring its tears upon the land in a symphony of water and wind. Your fingers dig into the dirt, feeling his equally soaked thigh press against yours as he joins you, feeling him watching, studying, even if you can't see his eyes.

“My mom used to say that a flower sprouts when a person leaves us,” you say, soft, barely your normal volume. “I always wondered where they did—I guess I know now.”

Shifting, you peel your sight from the flowers to see his legs extended, his body so close to yours. So much so, it would be easy to lean into it. Into him. To press your drenched clothing against his equally drowned frame, seek warmth, and take what he will offer you in the brightness of the day.

“Din,” you continue, tuning in to the gruff noise he makes for you to continue, as you move your shoulder closer.

His head turns, the front of his helmet facing you.

Allowing you to see a bead slide gracefully down the silver, moving like a serene symphony—as others fall, and then another. All being left by the sky above, weaving paths you wish to trace with your fingers.

You shouldn’t, but you want to wipe each away with your touch, rest your palms against the places his cheeks should be and will your hands to remember the warmth you know they can be.

“Can you remember the last time you felt the rain on your bare skin?”

Silence. Rain slides against leaves before rolling down to the soil below. The sound increases and decreases in odd waves as the storm tries to square itself against the sun, against the blossoms which rise like an army unwilling to cower.

“No.”

His reply is rough, croaked out through the modulator—caked in openness you’re not sure he wishes to show.

And, it makes a memory resurface. Sharp and clear. The first time you’d felt him unmasked, the vulnerability etched into his features—frame tense, rigid. Nervousness flowed through him as easily as the blood that races. How you’d kissed him, felt his cracked lips gain confidence against yours as his muscles rippled under your palms.

In a different way than then, you reached out, offered comfort—providing something you’re not sure he easily is given.

“A person could get lost here,�� you sigh, the words practically tumbling out.

A stillness follows, one only punctuated by the rain. That is, until he shifts, until you hear him exhale, before adding, “Not you.”

Dragging your eyes from the landscape, you watch as more droplets slide and skate down his helmet, against his armour. Desperate to cling. It’s nothing but mesmerising, making him appear like he’s made of the sky. Reflections of the flowers there, muted shades mirroring.

“No?”

He’s silent for a moment. Just one. “Wouldn’t let you. I’d find you.”

Smirking, you turn back to the view. “You’re good at that—practically a professional.”

He allows a beat, lets your shoulder settle against him—the heels of your boots digging into the ground of this place, hoping a little bit clings on and comes with you.

“I’d look for you.”

Breaking your gaze from the flowers and the falling rain, you rest them on his helmet. On him. On the space you think the brown eyes he’s told you about are currently watching you.

It’s slow to appear, taking its time to spread up into your cheek as the implication of his words ring out. Look, not find; search but not hunt.

“I wouldn’t run to begin with.”

You feel it, the shift, slight tilt of his head at your words.

And you swear you hear him breathe good, light almost airy—before gloved fingers find their way between yours again. Soaked, sodden. But neither moving as seconds become minutes.

“Cyar'ika?”

You hum, preening, almost blooming under the name he’s just begun using. Nestling further against him, watching the flowers sway and turn in the rain before his gloved hands come in front of you—a bunch of flowers held out to you, offered, given.

“My hair is brown too.”

You smile, taking the bunch, bringing them to your nose. “That’s nice to know.”

[bestanimal]

Round 2 - Chordata - Chondrichthyes

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Chondrichthyes is a class of jawed fish, commonly called “cartilaginous fish” due to their skeletons composed mainly of cartilage, making them distinct from all other vertebrates. They are comprised of the superorders Selachimorpha (“Sharks”), Batoidea (“Rays”), and Holocephalimorpha (“Chimaeras”).

Chondrichthyans breath through gills but lack opercula (gill coverings) and swim bladders. They have paired fins, paired nares (nostrils), and placoid (tooth-shaped) scales (except for electric rays, which have loose, soft skin). These placoid scales, also called dermal denticles, provide protection and streamlining, giving the animal’s skin a sandpaper-y feel. All chondrichthyans breathe through five to seven pairs of gills, depending on the species. As a general rule, pelagic species usually must keep swimming to keep oxygenated water moving through their gills, while demersal species can actively pump water in through their spiracles (a small hole or slit behind each eye) and out through their gills. Most larger, pelagic species no longer have spiracles. Chondrichthyans have many sensory organs to perceive the world around them. Their nostrils are attached to powerful olfactory organs. Around their face are a network of electroreceptors called Ampullae of Lorenzini, which allow them to sense electrical fields. Their lateral line has modified epithelial cells which sense motion, vibration, and pressure in the water around them. However, their sound-detecting apparatus has limited range and is typically more powerful at lower frequencies. Some species have electricity-producing organs which can be used for defense and predation. Chondrichthyans have a diverse array of shapes and sizes, ranging from the 10 cm (3.9 in) long, electric Finless Sleeper Ray (Temera hardwickii) to the over 10 m (33 ft) long Whale Shark (Rhincodon typus). All species are carnivores: some predatory, some ambush-hunters, and some filter-feeders. At least one species is omnivorous. Chondrichthyans have internal fertilization and most species give live birth, while some lay eggs. There is no parental care after birth, though some chondrichthyans do guard their eggs.

Chondrichthyans are considered to have evolved from Acanthodians, which appear from the Early Silurian. The first sharks began to evolve in the Devonian Period, though, while often claimed to be relatively unchanged, modern forms did not start appearing until the Early Jurassic.

Propaganda under the cut:

Mentioned briefly above, the Bonnethead Shark (Sphyrna tiburo), a small species of hammerhead, is the only shark known to be omnivorous. While it feeds on crustaceans, molluscs, and small fish, it also ingests large amounts of seagrass, which has been found to make up around 62% of gut content mass.

Also mentioned briefly above, Electric Rays (order Torpediniformes) are known for being capable of producing an electric discharge, ranging from 8 to 220 volts, depending on species, used to stun prey and for defense.

There are over 500 different species of sharks, and only a dozen could be considered dangerous to humans. That being said, of those 12, most do not seem to like the taste of human flesh, and bites are usually accidental or exploratory.

Many pelagic chondrichthyans occasionally breach, leaping out of the water. This can be done for hunting purposes, as a mating ritual, to shake off parasites, or even just for fun!

Today, all species of Sawfish (family Pristidae) are critically endangered. However, they were relatively common in the Cretaceous, where they were likely a common food source for Spinosaurus.

(Confusingly, Sawfish are a type of ray while Sawsharks (order Pristiophoriformes) are a type of shark. Sawsharks live in the deep sea and are rarely seen, while sawfish live in coastal and brackish waters.)

Kitefin Sharks (family Dalatiidae) have bioluminescent organs which glow blue in the dark

Chimaeras have a strange pair of teeth in their lower jaw which look like rodent incisors, giving them the common names “ratfish” or “rabbitfish.”

Great White Sharks (Carcharodon carcharias) are regularly hunted by orcas, and when one is confronted by an orca it will generally flee and not return to that area for up to a year.

Manta Rays (genus Mobula) are incredibly smart. They were the first “fish” in the world to pass the “mirror test” (ie show self-awareness by recognizing themselves in a mirror rather than seeing the reflected image as another manta ray). They also have highly-developed long-term memory, form friendships, and play with each other by blowing bubbles and breaching out of the water.

[revelboo]

Ooooooooh... I usually don't have many thoughts about prowl, just never paid much attention to him, but your posts make it so hard to feel normal about him I think you've awaken something in me, help!!!

He’s pretty fun to write as a jerk

Stand Too Close Pt 3

Prowl x Reader

• Like a sparkling sulking, you’re avoiding him and that’s fine. There’s always reports to work up, his task list a living thing that’s always growing. Except he can’t focus, rereading the same paragraph over and over. It’s the silence, he realizes in frustration. Somehow he’s gotten used to the soft sounds of you wandering about on his desk being a nuisance. Touching things just to annoy him. How did you become white noise that he needs to focus? Shoving up from his desk, he vents. How far could you have gotten?

• Only halfway listening as Bumblebee talks about a potential energon mine to two other Autobots, you lean into Bee’s hand to savor how warm he is. And there’s no angry tension here. Unlike the jerk you’d been stuck with, these guys seem to be friends. Joking and laughing. Occasionally remembering you and asking a question so you’re involved in the conversation. Listening to them, your thoughts turn unwillingly to Prowl. There’s never any other Cybertronians coming to visit him. No one joking with him, because apparently it’s not just xenophobia. He’s just a jerk to everyone and they all avoid him. It should be funny, but it doesn’t quite sit right somehow. Always alone. Always angry. Realizing you feel kind of bad for him only annoys you.

• It’s not like he hadn’t known that temperatures optimal for Cybertronians are too cold for humans. He’d heard Wheeljack mention it to Sideswipe once in passing, the young bot pestering for information on humans. Seeming fascinated when Wheeljack mentions that his will curl against him because he’s always warmer than they are, seeking his body heat constantly. You’ve never willingly came to him, though, and he’d not really thought much of it. Maybe the cold hadn’t bothered you. But thinking about it, he has seen you shivering before. Never complaining about it, just glaring at him whenever you notice him watching you. Cold and unwilling to approach him.

• Apparently, you just hate him more than you want to be warm, because there you are. Bumblebee’s laid his arm on the table, palm cupped slightly as he talks to Hound and Trailbreaker. And you’re sitting in the younger scout’s palm, leaning into his servos and his warmth. It shouldn’t bother him, the dislike is mutual and has been since he accidentally clipped you. He didn’t want to be stuck with you and, as you’re so fond of pointing out, he ruined your life. It shouldn’t bother him. Definitely shouldn’t light through him in a furious wash of what can’t possibly be jealousy. Almost absently, Bumblebee curls a servo to stroke down your arm and you relax further in the grip. Expression relaxed, not angry for once. He’s never seen you like that.

• “Bumblebee.” No, not yet. Groaning at that too familiar voice, you look over at the same time Bumblebee does and there’s Prowl, those optics pure ice as he just stares at you in Bee’s palm. “Thank you for watching over the human,” Prowl growls the words, sounding almost like they’re catching in his throat and he’s definitely mad. Fantastic. Fidgeting, Bumblebee looks almost unsure as Prowl holds out a hand in demand. Like he isn’t sure he should hand you over. Sighing, you grab one of his servos to pull yourself up and walk to the edge of the table waiting to be snatched up too roughly, because you made him come look for you. It’s a surprise when he lays his hand down instead, asking you wordlessly to come to him willingly. His expression is still tight with anger when you glance up before relenting. Maybe he just doesn’t want to yell at you here in front of witnesses.

• He flexes his servos as you climb into his palm and sit down so he can lift you. Eyes on his palm, your little shoulders hunch as he begins to walk. “Well?” You ask, sounding tired. Shifting his palm slowly once he’s out of sight of the others, he cups it and your little frame against his chassis the way he’s seen Wheeljack do. You don’t relax against him, though, slapping a palm against him and pushing at him like you think he’s trying to crush you. You really do hate him. It doesn’t bother him. It doesn’t.

Previous

Next

[crazilust]

My thoughts on these placements

based on my last lover. PSA: this might be biased. don’t take it TOO seriously, it’s mostly for me to purge this relationship. LETS GOOOOOOO !!

1. Gemini rising

Have you ever felt hella special to someone and then you see them interact with someone else and you’re like “oh. i’m… i’m just another one of their friends.” this is what it feels to be around a gemini rising sometimes. most of the ones I know, are either extremely popular, know alot of people or at the very least just hang out regularly with a bunch of people (might just be colleagues and not necessarily friends but they’re often surrounded). And they have this way of making you feel special, and funny and entertaining but most of the times, they’re the ones controlling the discussion and the flow of it.

when it came to my ex, he knew so many people and every person he was interacting with, he knew a little detail about them, and it made the person care so much about him. Even though he didn’t as much. Somewhat flimsy, it’s hard to know a Gemini rising’ true intentions with you.

2. Sagittarius sun

Sags don’t have the best reputation in my book, and he certainly didn’t help the stereotypes. The thing with Sags sun that I find hard to understand is the constant lie they have between who they truly are and who they want to be. It’s a constant battle of “don’t look too hard into my flaws bc soon enough I’ll be this grandiose super star and therefore you can forget about the awkward nerd you have in front of you.” Most of them are nerds, truly. But they hate it. As opposed to Aquarius sun’s desire to be different and their ability to stand on their two feet even tho they’re being outcast, a Sag sun’s deepest fear is to be seen as the weirdo they are. (that unfortunately they associated with being a loser)

If you’ve never been close with a Sag, you’ll be the first to deny this claim. “What?? The Sag I met was THE life of the party! No weirdo here.” or “The Sag I met was a boss ass btch, she had everything under control and very educated!!”

And that, my friends, is what we call a front. Sure, they can be the life of the party, usually very keen on getting their diplomas, but if you don’t know them, that’s the only part of them you’ll get to see cause it’s the part they deem acceptable.

I’m not even gonna comment on the commitment issues, cause yall… you know it already lmao.

3. Virgo moon

Nobody hates an underdeveloped virgo moon more than they hate themselves. So critical, judgemental and harsh. They notice absolutely everything that you do and instead of going to you and confront you about the issue, they’ll keep it in, and throw it back to your face the minute it’s convenient for them (when they effed up). Very hard to love because they simply can’t accept that you love and accept their own flaws. I remember my ex asking me litteraly all the time “How can you love me if I’m not as pretty as before” (it was in his head, he was just as cute) “How can you love me if I don’t have a job?” (He had lost his job for only 2 months at that point) No matter what I’d say, he couldn’t believe that I loved him wholeheartedly, no matter what.

Sometimes, when I look at a virgo moon, unevolved ofc, all I can see is pain. Virgo is an already hard sign to have imo (sorry!) but in the moon placement, it’s just sad. These natives are so harsh on themselves and accept no help whatsoever. And if you do try, they’ll do everything to push you away and trust me, one thing Virgos do is succeed.

4. Libra Mars

As a scorpio mars, libra mars is not my favorite placement. But as I checked my vedic chart and I do, in fact, have a libra mars, I hate that I understand why they act the way they do.

They care so much about everything being perfect, everyone getting along and most importantly being at peace with the ones they love. The cliches are true for a reason, they dislike conflict and yes, are passive agressive but it’s because they don’t want to lose the people they love with petty drama.

So they don’t say anything, and they accomodate even tho that one thing irritated them and then when you confront them about something, they bring you everything you’ve done wrong for the past six months. That’s the part I hate, ofc, but I also hate that I get it.

I get it. They’re the biggest people pleasers and when they don’t say anything about something that upsets them, they actually think they’re doing it for the greater good. They obviously analyse everything you’re doing wrong, but they don’t mind not saying it cause they’d rather be at peace with you. So how dare you don’t do the same for them?

That’s the mentality. Unfortunately for them, it brings bigger conflict because then you feel betrayed they never said anything to begin with. UGH.

SPEAK YOUR MIND, Libras of any placements actually <3

5. Sagittarius Mercury

If you consider yourself soft, delicate, sensitive, do not date a Sag mercury. These people are ruthless. As friends, I find them hilarious and fun to be around, but as lovers I would never do that to myself again. Just never <3. They are very blunt (which doesn’t mean they won’t lie! We’re talking about a Jupiter ruled sign here yall), but in a way that won’t make you feel good about yourself. They’ll often use humour to attack you and then use it as a shield the moment you call them out on it (i.e : It was just a jokeeeeee!)

Gives very good advice, I’ll give them that. I think sometimes I can have a little bit of tunnel vision and with Sag mercuries, they’re able to tap you on the shoulder and be like “Have you consider this tho?” in the most casual way and you’re like “oh.. no. yes. you’re right”

6. Aquarius Venus

If you love the friends to lovers trope, you’ll just love dating an Aquarius venus because that friendship-like relationship will be the foundation of your dynamic. Everything feels fun, the complicity is at an all time high.

But the commitment.

Now, I’ve read multiple times here that Aquarius venus is actually very committed to the person they love when they like you. Well, I guess I wasn’t his person cause I only felt the commitment phobia.

Anyways, I still loved the dynamic of the relationship, but I can’t lie, it didn’t feel serious at all.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~••~•~•~•~•~•

Well that’s all for me, today. Love yall!!

Remember, these are the big 6 of my ex so it is biased nothing to take too personal but if it applies and resonates, great💛

B.

[riverbutghost]

Why?

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Simon made it clear that he disliked you. But after you were captured by the enemy, he decided that was far from the truth.

Warnings: Military stuff (wounds, blood etc.), Slight sexual themes, violence, detailed descriptions of torture but not too much. (I don’t know if I’ve missed anything else. The italics are flashbacks btw.

Masterlist

“Ты говоришь на русском языке?” do you speak Russian?

You tried to catch your breath while the two men were talking in Russian. A cold water was thrown at you.

“посмотри на нее, она такая американка. я чувствую его запах.” He scrunched up his face and looked at you with disgust. look at her, she’s so American I can smell it.

“Aren’t you going to beg, my dear?” He patted your head a little while smiling like a maniac. The Russian accent was so strong that you asked yourself if you knew Russian.

“Aww, she’s such a cutie with a crying face. I love making little girls cry.”

Your face scrunched up and you looked down, not letting them see your tears anymore. It was embarrassing for you, a soldier who was known for her strong facade on the field. But only on the field, they used to say. You smile a lot, lass, Soap used to say. Now you wondered if you were going to see him again.

“Well, either way we will keep you until you die, sweetheart. Take care, Милая.” darling.

The other man smirked and they both got out of the room.

You couldn’t remember what had happened, but you were taken by the Russians.

Your head was pounding and the punch you received from the guy who had called you disgusting pet names was dreadful.

You wiggled your arms, wiggled your neck but no. They weren’t even ropes. They were metal bars. They had pinned your arms, legs and neck to a metal bar.

You were sure you were going to die here.

Suddenly, you remembered your lieutenant’s words from earlier.

He had said, “don’t leave my side. I didn’t want you in the first place but they gave you to me so do as I say. Also, I don’t want to hear you chitchat.”

It hurt you a little, pinched your already broken heart. But you knew better than getting sad. He was Ghost, always mean, always bored. He only joked around with Soap, which was a rare sight. You promised to yourself that whatever he would say, you were going to befriend him. But that didn’t end up like that.

It was rare for you. Usually you would get along with anyone, but Ghost was different. From the beginning, he would always make you feel small, making little comments about how you had a big mouth and he knew how to shut it and blah blah blah which made your face flush.

You were starting to get him though. Or so you thought.

-

“You know I don’t care what you say, right?”

Your shoulders slumped a little. But your smile came back.

“Well, I don’t care either. That makes us a good team.”

You smiled at him sweetly. Like a child who got what they wanted. He gripped the folders harder.

“Stop smiling and get these papers to Price.”

You kept smiling and took the papers from him.

“We will be friends eventually, sir.”

“I hope not.” He mumbled, making you chuckle a little.

-

You were always hurt after talking to him, but sucked it up eventually.

He had his issues. He knew better to trust a new soldier. But you were insistent. He was insistent either.

“Are you okay?”

He tensed at you sudden voice, eyes dropping at your soft tone.

“Yes, is there a problem?”

You bit your cheek.

“Why are you so persistent about this?”

He was taken aback by your question. He turned towards you, his skull mask was on.

“What?”

You gripped your blade harder. It was one of those ‘nightmare’ nights. You couldn’t sleep and thought it would be easier to clean your blades. You should’ve known better.

“You try so hard to ignore me or shut me up.”

His eyes were staring right at yours and you felt the need to remove your eyes from his.

“I don’t like bubbly people. And you talk too much, my ears can’t take it anymore.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“You’ll like me eventually-“

His sharp breath shut you up instantly.

“Why do you act like everyone likes you? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

You were taken aback by his sudden harsh words. You opened your mouth to speak, again thinking you were going to make him like you. So you said the thing that came to your mind to stop him from breaking your heart more.

“Chill dude-“

You were flushing. What the fuck was ‘chill dude’ ?

“Don’t” He stopped for a second. “don’t ‘chill dude’ me. I’m your superior and you will respect me. Understood?”

You felt your body freeze. He was making it so hard, so hard to befriend him.

“Ghost-“

“Sir, you’ll call me sir from now on.”

You looked down at you hands, trying to find something to look at.

“Yes sir.” You mumbled eventually and got up, scoffing at the tears which were threatening to fall down.

-

You still remembered the stinging feeling his words had caused you.

You stopped trying to be one of his mates. You stopped talking near him. This made everyone question why, but never asked because Ghost was never in the mood to talk.

.

Simon thought about the last time he had cared about anything. He couldn’t remember.

But you, you…

You were like a rainbow after a terrible storm. Your smile could lit up the whole world. And after just one look at your face, he knew he should distance himself and not get close to you.

But you had other plans.

After your first mission, he was sure he would get lost looking at you smile.

-

“How is your leg, sir?”

You asked him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

“Fine.” He grumbled, voice vibrating through his chest. Your cheeks started getting pinker and he cursed himself.

“Can you get out and call the nurse?”

Your smile wavered a little and you finally turned around. You mumbled under your breath, he figured you were hurt by his words.

“No need to be rude, Lieutenant.”

He couldn’t help it though. You were a ball of happiness and he was overwhelmed. He couldn’t help himself.

He regretted it, but still said nothing.

-

You didn’t shut up. Ever.

Even if he said the most hurtful comment, you would still forget about it and smile at him. He sometimes questioned your ability to be happy all the time. It was a gift, he was sure.

You were a gift. He wasn’t religious at all, but after seeing you for the first time, he was sure you were a gift from above.

He fucked it up.

He should be relieved, but no. He was angry at himself for attacking you in a sort of fucked up way.

He was using his fucked up mentality to push you away, but he knew better.

Deep down, he knew why he was treating you that way. But he wouldn’t let anyone know this. Not even himself.

“We have to do something, y’know?”

Simon pushed his thoughts away and looked at his superior.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Price pressed his lips harder than usual.

“I interrogated them, they say different things.”

Simon pulled his mask down and got up. He turned towards Price.

“Then maybe you should let me interrogate them.”

Price gave a long and sharp breath.

“What will we have if you kill them?”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows. You don’t understand, he wanted to say.

“What do we have, then?” He gave up for the sake of finding you.

“4 locations, Soap searched them. They are all Russians’ and we have to be quick.”

They were more then ready to find their little sunshine. But Simon was stressed, he was freaking out.

They got ready, hopped on their truck and the mission was started.

-

You weren’t okay.

You were far from being okay.

“Oh, look at her. So sad no one is coming for you?”

You clenched your jaw, immediately regretting it because of the massive headache.

“Speak when I ask you a question, got it ?”

A noise came from your neck at the sudden blow to your cheek.

“Let’s get rid of these bars,”

Your neck suddenly fell down after the metal bar opened. You couldn’t find the strength to look at them.

He gripped your hair and jerked your head to him.

Another guy kicked your abdomen, making you whimper in pain.

“Bastards!”

The guy gripped your hair harder and smacked the back of the gun to your head.

You unintentionally whimpered again.

“What was that? You little pig.”

You were sure there was an internal bleeding in your abdomen.

“That’s enough brother, let’s eat.”

The guy kicked you again in the abdomen and the metal bars opened.

You fell down from your chair.

Your vision was blurry, you were sure you wouldn’t survive in two days. It has been so long, so long.

They were coming, you knew it. Deep down, you were wondering if Ghost was finally relieved. No one was talking his head off or cracking dirty jokes now. Was he keeping them away so you would die alone here?

You closed your eyes, shaking the ridiculous thoughts.

You were tired, so you let yourself go.

-

“Hey, be fuckin’ quiet!”

Soap gulped and apologized at his Lieutenant. He was extra angry today.

“Sir, what if she’s already dead? This would be a suicide mission then.”

Simon turned towards the recruit.

“Shut your mouth and do what you’re told, kid.”

The soldier fell silent after that. They knew better to piss Ghost off.

“Okay, get ready. In three, two… one!”

Shots were suddenly fired. The Russians were not expecting this, at this hour especially. They were on edge, but their superiors were busy having dinner.

“I’ll look inside!”

Ghost shouted, immediately followed by Soap.

The two got in, killed the guards.

It had been a fucking week, and Ghost felt pathetic to hear your voice. It effected him more than he thought it would.

“Fuck, Soap, I’m going downstairs .”

Soap nodded and returned his killing.

Ghost kept his steps low, head raised high in confidence. He pushed through everything in front of him, trying to save his pain in the ass.

He pushed every door, even broke the locked ones down.

There you were, laying on the ground. Looking dead, but your back was slightly moving up and down.

He immediately scanned the room, with nothing he rushed to get you out of there.

He kneeled on his knees and turned you around carefully.

“Sir?”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re strong, sergeant.”

You smiled a little. He checked your injuries’ severity and got you on his back.

“I didn’t think I would- uh- be alive to be honest.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows.

“Bite your tongue, Sergeant. You’re one of the strongest soldiers i’ve ever met.”

You smiled a little again. Proudly you closed your eyes.

“Stay, yeah? Don’t want you to die on me, gonna get in trouble because of you.”

Your smile faltered. Here you were, naive little girl.

“Right.”

He knew he fucked up again. But his first mission was get you out of there safely.

You whimpered at the sudden pain in your abdomen.

“What’s wrong?”

Your arms tightened around his neck, not enough to hurt him.

“Hurts-“

A sudden explosion made you two flew into a wall. Ghost groaned and quickly grabbed his gun. He looked around for you.

Everything was happening too quick for his liking. He reloaded his gun and jumped up to his feet.

“No…”

He fired his gun nonstop at the men, who were trying to shoot both of you. He was actually scared for the first time.

He reached to his comm.

“Soap, fuck- come downstairs!”

He swung his gun to the man beside him and rushed to your side. He lifted you bridal style and turned his back on the men.

“Fuck,”

A bullet pierced his shoulder. He eventually put you down behind a desk, flipping the desk over to cover you.

Soap, Gaz and Price came into his view and he relaxed all of a sudden.

“Ghost?!”

Ghost put his arm up behind the desk to show them where you were.

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding.” Gaz looked at him in concern.

“Oh, so I’m not hurt then.”

Ghost scoffed at Gaz and picked you up. Gaz rolled his eyes.

“Let’s get you two to the heli.” Price tried to pick you up, but Ghost mumbled something and pulled you to him.

“Ghost-“

Ghost brushed him off.

“Let’s go.”

It had been a week.

After multiple surgeries, you were in intensive care for give days.

The internal bleeding had caused you to lose consciousness and when you woke up in the heli, you vomited blood. On Ghost.

Ghost felt his heart beat faster at that because for a second, he thought you were dying.

You didn’t.

You were awake but still in bed. Soap came to your visit, Gaz did, Price did, even Alejandro did but Ghost didn’t.

You received a lot of gifts from recruits which made you smile. But something else was occupying your mind.

You wondered if Ghost was okay. Soap told you he was shot, said it was nothing for him.

You got up to a sitting position. Immediately holding your abdomen, you cursed. It still hurt like a bitch.

You stood up from the bed and checked the nurse. She wasn’t there so you took the chance to escape from your prison.

You were in a white oversized sweatshirt and nothing else. You weren’t wearing a bra and you thanked the nurse.

You pushed the doors open. You had forgotten the sweaty smell of the hallways. You missed it.

“What are you doing? Go back to bed.”

You flinched at your nurse’ tone and turned around to her.

“I feel good, Amanda. Please,”

Amanda sighed then nodded, allowing you to leave.

“I didn’t see you, then.”

You chuckled a bit and left.

Your mission was now to find your Lieutenant. Ghost. Simon. You never tried to call him by his actual name, knowing his temper and dislike towards you.

You felt nauseous all of a sudden. You didn’t want to find him, you didn’t want to feel unwanted and alone again. Even though your other teammates were always there for you, you wanted him. Why? You didn’t know. Or didn’t want to admit.

You took a deep breath, forgetting about your abdomen.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You held your abdomen and mumbled curses.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You froze and licked your lips. That wasn’t the scenario you thought it would be. You turned to your side.

“Hi, sir.”

You smiled at him through your pain.

He was wearing his balaclava, his eyes red. You wondered why, then remembered he was shot.

“Are you okay Ghost? I heard that you were shot.”

You took a step forward. He took a step back. You pressed your lips together.

“I’m fine. Go back to bed.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“No.”

Ghost looked straight at your eyes, his bloodshot eyes looked concerning.

“Do as I say, sergeant.”

You shook your head. Not today.

“I’m okay. I wanted to see if you were okay too.”

Ghost’s eyes left yours for a second. He looked down at your abdomen.

“You’re going to open your stitches.”

Your head fell to your side slightly. He looked at you again.

“Are you, okay?” You punctuated for him to understand what you were trying to say.

He sighed.

You took four more steps towards him until you were chest to chest.

He looked defeated.

“I am.” He answered your question, eyes flickering between your mouth and your eyes.

“Can I look at your shoulder? It’s bleeding.”

Ghost furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his shoulder. He knew he shouldn’t be working out in this condition.

“Please let me help, Simon.”

His breath hitched a little, but you heard.

With a newfound courage, you took his hand and lifted it slightly with a cloud-like touch.

“I’m sweaty .” He looked at your eyes.

“It’s okay.” You smiled at him. His eyes traveled all over you and suddenly, he took your hand and started dragging you.

You gasped in shock, but didn’t say a thing. He was acting strange, you didn’t mind it.

Ghost opened the door to his room and after pulling you in, he closed the door.

“What now?” He asked out of breath. You flushed a little.

“Uhm, well. I’ll get your med kit.”

He nodded and showed you the place. He sat down onto his bed.

You came with the medkid, a little shyly.

“Take off your shirt.”

He gulped. You didn’t mean to sound so authoritatively. You helped him by lifting his arm slightly then took off the shirt.

Holy shit, you thought. He was ripped. You cleared your throat and opened the medkit.

“Just try not to move your arm.” He nodded.

You were working on his arm, but his eyes were on you. You shuddered a little feeling goosebumps all over your body. He smirked under his mask.

“I’ve never seen your face.”

“I know?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah no shit. Are you going to show me?”

He shook his head. You pursed your lips in a mock sadness.

But you felt your body freeze as he pulled your bottom lip.

You swallowed hard, forgetting about his wound. He groaned, sound vibrating through his chest. You were melting.

“Oh God, sorry.”

He pulled you on his lap, pulling your legs apart with his hand. You gasped again, feeling a sensation in your lower parts.

“Ghost-“

“Hm?”

You took a deep breath and averted your eyes from him to focus on his wound.

Quickly cleaning it up then bandaging it, you looked at him.

“I’m going to wash my hands.”

He got up with you on his lap. His hands were on you thighs and your legs were hugging his waist.

“What are you doing?”

“Never letting you go.”

You licked your lips, they suddenly felt dry.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for the way I treated you. But fuck, you are something else. Fucking pain in the ass.”

You chuckled a little and he dropped you near the sink.

“Stay with me?”

You dried your hands then turned around. He was hovering over you, and you liked it.

“Let’s sleep.”

He gulped then grabbed you up in a rush.

“Ow, be careful you ass.”

He put you on to the mattress.

“Let me make it feel good, yeah?”

All of the playfulness left your face after he had said that.

“Oh fuck.”

[ddodol]

drinking with riize ! headcanons

content warning ⭑.ᐟ alcohol mentions for sure, this is so pg-13 aside from the alcohol don't even worry, established relationship. word count⭑.ᐟ 1.2k+

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can handle their alcohol

shotaro: if you were drinking with him, whether it’s outside or in the comforts of your own place, he’d always make sure not to drink too much. shotaro knows his limits and he can reel himself in when he knows that he’s starting to get tipsy. if it were any other occasion where you’re celebrating something, then he’d most likely let himself go for a little bit. he would still keep his eyes on you while making sure that he’s matching your excitement and energy.

i like to think that shotaro would be in the mood once he’s gotten a bit tipsy, especially since you're in his company. it’s something he tries to hold back on when he’s sober so when he’s drunk, he’d be more free and bold only if you let him. if he wasn’t being touchy, you’d know by the way he looks at you, eyelids heavy and eyes flickering up and down. he’d be eating you up with his gaze, making you giggle at how obvious he was being.

seunghan: honestly, he’s probably one of the few that could hold actually their alcohol in this group. seunghan would have no problem matching you, clinking glasses or beer cans with you as you drink. you might even get tipsy before him and once you do, he’d tease you affectionately. seunghan would know your tolerance better than you do, subtly taking away your glass once he hears the slightest bit of slurring in your words. he’d be poking fun at you while also checking how drunk you actually are, laughing when you confirm his suspicions.

on the very rare occasion that you catch seunghan drunk, he’d probably be quiet for the first time ever. he’d be touchy and sleepy, resting his face against your neck and breathing in your scent until he falls asleep. he’d whine and complain if you move or leave him, having a sixth sense only for that.

anton: he’s most likely to be one of the few members that can handle their alcohol and be excited when you first ask. anton would be feeling playful, excited with the thought of drinking with you. he would make sure he pays attention to you, wanting to know what kind of face you’d make while drinking or what flavors you like and dislike. these are things he’d keep in mind and would think about when he’s out shopping for alcoholic drinks, picking a bottle up impulsively because he remembered how adorable you looked when you had a sip of it.

while anton has average tolerance, the chances of him tearing up are never zero. he’d be listening to you talk and his thoughts would wander, thinking about how lucky he was to have you. he wouldn’t cry even though he gets emotional easily but if you were the type to cry when drunk, then you’d both be crying in the middle of drinking. anton would try his best to be there for you, though, comforting you before taking care of himself.

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they're cute so it's okay

eunseok: two words: pink cheeks. he’d be flushed all over with just one shot and he doesn’t even need to be drunk or tipsy. eunseok would be cuter than usual, voice would probably be brighter because of how happy he just is. you’d catch him staring at you way longer than he should, a cute smile on his lips as he traces his eyes over your drunken features as if he was trying to memorize them. he’d be thinking about how adorable you were even if you were rambling about some nonsense. he’s the type to let you embarrass yourself, so you can count on horrifying recollections the day after as he helps you jog your memories, laughing at you.

drunk eunseok would probably be the type to get sentimental, like if you were dating for a long time he’d randomly bring up a very specific memory only he remembers, or maybe even declare his love to you in a very serious manner. he would still remember everything the day after, but if he did or said something embarrassing then he’d act like he doesn’t and he’d keep the act up until you’re convinced in a poor attempt to erase whatever it was that he did.

sohee: drinking with sohee would be so much fun even if it’s just the two of you. he’d suggest these silly games you two could play, you would be laughing and fooling around until the alcohol wears you down. he would always triple check if you could handle another punishment shot, otherwise he’d lose on purpose just so you wouldn’t drink too much. he’d make sure to take care of you once you’re all spent, letting you rest on his shoulder as he hums or whistles a song.

drunk sohee would be more sincere and affectionate than usual, showering you with words of affection while thanking you for everything you’ve done for him. he wouldn’t exactly cry; if anyone were to cry, it’d be you because of how sweet his words were. these are things he’d never admit to your face while sober and he’d be pouring his heart out as he stares into your eyes.

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messy drunk

sungchan: since he’s a certified lightweight, sungchan would most likely take his time drinking. if you insisted on it, he’d cave in and just join your company. once he’s sure that you were enjoying yourself, he’d start drinking with you in small sips because he still wants to enjoy the moment but would also make sure that he’d be able to take care of you afterwards.

now, if he were to come home from a company dinner completely drunk, he’d be more affectionate and touchy than he already is. sungchan would be all over you, mumbling about how much he loves you or how you smell good or how your hair was still a little wet or apologizing for being so heavy while you’re dragging him back home. he could yap on and on about whatever comes across his mind and eighty percent of that is just about you and how he thought you looked cute in that one outfit you wore during your first date as if he hasn’t complimented you enough on it.

wonbin: now hear me out— i don’t think wonbin can handle his alcohol well. i don’t even think he’s drank a lot considering how he’s a homebody. he would be cautious when drinking with you, wanting to hide the fact that he’s a bit intimidated by alcohol, snacking on some food while you were drinking. once he manages to relax, he’d be more talkative and giggly. he would forget about how intimidating the alcohol is and just enjoy your company, accidentally drinking too fast.

drunk wonbin would still want to prioritize you even if he was more shitfaced than you are. he would not be able to keep his hands to himself, pressing his limp body against yours while he whines about how you have to stop drinking before you get drunk. wonbin would be the type to just stare at you blankly, lips slowly curling into a smile when you look back at him in confusion. he’d be very vulnerable, asking you about stuff he’s been thinking about for a while now. you would have to shower him with affection, patting his head or playing with his hair while reassuring him that he’s doing great.

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[oldwritingm]

FNAF Security Breach - Catching Their Eye

Freddy

He spotted you within the first few minutes of your working there

He keeps close tabs on the staff, so naturally he noticed a new face in the employee uniform

He introduced himself right away, but that wasn’t anything special; he does that for every new employee

What really makes him notice you is your brightness

Whether you’re interacting with guests or mopping the floor with your earbuds in, he’ll find the tiniest traces of happiness in you, and that’s what makes him interested

Even if you're not a typically "happy" person, he'll still find it

He’s so used to tired workers just trying to make it to the next paycheck, so seeing you with that light inside (even if it’s buried deep) enchants him

He finds himself staring, completely captivated

Your smile is the most precious thing in the world to him

He sees tens—even hundreds—of smiles every day, but yours is special somehow

He admires from afar, usually too busy to talk to you

But whenever he gets a free moment, you best believe he’s going to talk to you

Unfortunately he doesn’t know what to say though

So he just goes with the only thing that’s been on his mind:

“Hello, Y/n! Has anyone ever told you that you have the loveliest smile?”

“O-oh..! Uh… no?”

He scrambles to apologize for making you uncomfortable, but your laughter cuts him off

Your laugh. Mercy—if he wasn’t hooked before, he certainly was now

It’s then that he makes a personal goal to make you laugh every day

Gives him an excuse to be around you, at least

Roxanne

She did not know who you were

Like, at all

To her, everyone in the employee garb looks the same

It doesn't matter how long you've been working there; you could've been working for months, and your face would still be completely unfamiliar to her

So, when she sees you after hours in Roxy Raceway, she doesn't take much note of your presence

But you certainly take notice of hers

She catches you stealing glances, which makes her nervous

Naturally she jumps into defensive mode

"You got a staring problem?"

"No! I'm sorry. It's just... well, you're so much cooler up close."

That catches her off guard

She usually inwardly doubts people when they compliment her, but your tone is so genuine that there's no room for her insecurities

From then on, she's able to discern you from the other employees

If she can, she tries to get your help when she needs it

She trusts you more than the other employees, all because you were so genuine in your first interaction

Out of all the eyes that gaze adoringly at her all day, only yours matter to her

When she spots you looking at her, she gets a boost of confidence—real confidence

You're her little magic charm, and she makes sure to return the favor

She'll never give any hints that you make her feel like this, but she'll treat you better than every other employee

Which basically only means that she knows your name and she doesn't snap at you, but with her, that's pretty big

Chica

Much like Freddy, Chica likes to keep tabs on employees

She's not quite as good at it, though

She'll frequently mix up names and introduce herself to people she's already introduced herself to, but hey, she's trying her best

What makes her remember you though is your name (at first, anyway)

"Hello!! Welcome to the team!! My name is Chica, if you didn't already know."

"Hi, I'm Y/n."

"Y/n? Y/n... I love that name!! Y/n!"

From that moment on, she always greets you by name

She loves saying your name—it's a very melodic sound to her

She even starts saying it to herself when she's bored

That's the first sign of you infesting her mind

She realizes that she doesn't just love your name; your personality is also very likable

She finds herself craving more of you, wanting to find more things to like

And even to dislike; she just wants more of you in general honestly

Okay so maybe she's a little obsessed

Whenever you're working near her, she makes an effort to interact with you

She won't go out of her way to ensure that you interact often though; she'll just treasure the moments she's been given

And she isn't really the type to watch from afar, either

If she can't interact with you, she doesn't want to look at you; the longing will get to her

That doesn't mean she doesn't think about you all the time, though

Because she totally does

Monty

He doesn't really make an effort to remember many faces

Just the ones he knows he doesn't like

This is especially true with employees; he never forgets a face he hates, and he always makes sure to let them know how he feels

This has led to many employees being banned from working around Monty, either by their request or for their own safety

It's a strange feeling for him to take note of someone positively

Or at least not negatively

He's struck at first by your appearance, but he reminds himself that you might be a total nuisance

He watches you from afar, trying to confirm his pessimism

He's very surprised to find your personality tolerable

When he ventures to actually interact with you for the first time, he's even more surprised to find that you don't change your personality around him

"Hi there. You're Monty, right? I'm Y/n. I'm new here."

"Yeah, I know. So when're you comin' down to work Gator Golf?"

Needless to say, he got a little ahead of himself

He's just excited to find an employee that he actually likes

Management is also excited to discover this; and in no time at all you're almost always stationed in Gator Golf

Monty takes advantage of this in full

Whenever he gets a free moment he's by your side, telling you a joke or a funny story

You guys are fast friends

This only amplifies his positive bias regarding you

And his negative bias towards other employees; he gets even more agitated than before when an employee he doesn't like works in his domain

I watched the fnaf movie and I've fallen back into a fnaf stupor,,, I hope you enjoy my babbling <33 Thanks for reading lovelies :)

(divider by saradika)

[zesty4zenin]

I’m pretty sure I sent one- but nonetheless! I remember exactly. Can you do a Yandere! Yuji oneshot? It’s much like your teen Gojo one, but instead reader was originally a transfer student from the USA and came to Jujutsu tech to learn more but then had to go back home? If that makes any sense whatsoever, I’ve had this idea for a while now!

“𝐌𝐲 𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.” YANDERE!YUJI ITADORI X GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

SYPNOSIS: Yuji meets the American transfer student and can’t help but come to love them! But what happens when he finds out they have to go back home?

WARNINGS: emotional manipulation, and that’s it!

A/N: it made sense, dw!! Thanks for the request ^^ also I felt like I made Yuji like softish yandere, not too crazy lol

IT WAS another day at Jujutsu Tech for Yuji. Same routine as usual—learn how to control his cursed energy, fool around a little bit, then continue training. Afterward, he’d finish school, hang out with Nobara and Megumi, and go back to his dorm to sleep.

It was a routine he followed every day, yet Yuji didn’t dislike it. In fact, he found it enjoyable, even comforting. There was always something fun about their banter and training sessions.

But sometimes, a small part of him wished for something different. A new face among the first years, someone to add a spark to their already dynamic group. Don’t get him wrong, he liked Nobara and Megumi. They were his friends. He just… wanted to meet someone new.

And that’s exactly what happened.

One day, as Yuji was walking into class, he spotted Nobara and Megumi talking quietly in the corner. Their heads were close together, and they seemed deep in conversation. Curiosity piqued, Yuji strolled over, plopping down between the two of them with a bright grin.

“What’re you guys talking about?” Yuji asked, eyes darting between them.

Nobara huffed, leaning back in her seat. "We’re getting a new student," she said, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. "Gojo-sensei wouldn’t shut up about it before he left to go get them."

Yuji’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A new student? Seriously? I didn’t hear anything about that!" His voice was laced with excitement as he leaned forward. "Did Gojo-sensei say anything else? Like, who they are or what they can do?"

Megumi shrugged, his usual stoic expression in place. "No details yet. Just that they’d be joining our class."

Nobara rolled her eyes. "Knowing Gojo, he’s probably making it more dramatic than it needs to be. But still… it’ll be interesting to see what they’re like."

Yuji’s mind buzzed with possibilities. Who could this new student be? Would they be strong? Fun to hang out with? His excitement grew, though he couldn’t shake a strange, underlying feeling that this new arrival would change things.

Yuji barely had time to ask another question before the door slid open, revealing Gojo with his usual carefree smile plastered on his face. But this time, he wasn’t alone. Standing beside him was someone new—someone Yuji had never seen before.

“Alright, everyone!” Gojo announced, his voice carrying through the room. “I’d like to introduce you to your new classmate! They’re from the USA, so play nice.”

Yuji’s eyes immediately locked onto you, and the world seemed to slow down for a moment. You stood there, quietly beside Gojo, your expression a little nervous but determined. There was something about you that Yuji couldn’t quite place—maybe it was the way you carried yourself, or maybe it was just the fact that you were new, different.

“This is [Your Name]. They’ve come a long way, so let’s make them feel welcome!” Gojo said, giving you a gentle nudge forward.

“Hi,” you greeted softly, your voice drawing Yuji’s attention even more. The way you spoke was different, a little unfamiliar, but it intrigued him.

Nobara waved lazily, “Cool, nice to meet you. Don’t mess up on the first day, okay?” she teased.

Megumi gave a small nod, but Yuji was still staring at you, his mind whirling. USA? That was cool! But more than that, something strange was happening—his heart was pounding in his chest, a little faster than normal. A warm, almost uncomfortable feeling spread through him, and for the first time in a long time, Yuji felt… off-balance.

What is this? Yuji thought, blinking as he tried to calm the weird sensation creeping up on him. He’d never felt this way before, not even with all the excitement in his life. He swallowed, his throat dry, as he wondered if this was what people meant by "love at first sight." Could it really be happening to him? Right now?

Gojo clapped his hands, snapping Yuji out of his thoughts. “Alright, take a seat, and we’ll get started. Yuji, maybe you can show them around later?”

Yuji felt his face flush. "Uh, yeah! I’d—uh—I’d love to!" he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. Nobara shot him a strange look, but Yuji couldn’t focus on anything other than you and the rapid thudding of his heart.

As you made your way to sit down, Yuji couldn't stop stealing glances in your direction. There was something about your presence that pulled him in, something magnetic. He couldn’t explain it, but he was determined to get to know you.

Could this really be love?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few days had passed since you arrived at Jujutsu Tech, and Yuji had quickly become your unofficial guide. Wherever you went, he wasn’t far behind, always smiling and eager to help. It was as if he had taken it upon himself to make sure you felt comfortable—and he did so with relentless enthusiasm.

"Hey! Do you wanna check out the training grounds after class?" Yuji asked one afternoon, his voice full of energy as usual. "I could show you some of my moves, and maybe you could show me what you’ve got!"

You smiled politely, nodding. "Sure, sounds good," you said, though your mind drifted to the fact that you hadn’t had a moment alone in days. Not that Yuji was unpleasant, but his constant presence had started to feel a bit… overwhelming.

During those few days, Yuji had been like a shadow, always around, always talking. He showed you everything—where Gojo liked to disappear to, the best spots to train, even introducing you to his favorite movie, Human Earthworm.

That one had been… interesting, to say the least. You’d sat through the whole thing with a tight-lipped smile, nodding along as Yuji excitedly explained each ridiculous plot point. But truth be told, you found the movie more than a little icky. The thought of saying that out loud, however, seemed like it would crush Yuji’s spirits, so you kept it to yourself.

Now, as the days passed, it had become clear that Yuji was spending more time with you than with Nobara and Megumi. The two of them had even made jokes about it.

"Looks like you’ve been replaced," Nobara had teased Megumi earlier that morning, crossing her arms and giving a knowing smirk. "Yuji’s got a new best friend."

Megumi had just shrugged, as stoic as ever. "It’s not like he was ever that quiet around us, but now… it’s a bit much, don’t you think?"

But to Yuji, spending all his time with you just felt right. He wasn’t even fully aware of how much he had gravitated toward you; it just happened. Whether it was showing you around the school, helping you with assignments, or introducing you to his favorite snacks, Yuji had become your constant companion.

One day, while walking through the courtyard, Yuji beamed at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I don’t know if I’ve said it yet, but I’m really glad you came to Jujutsu Tech. It’s been… different, in a good way, y’know?"

You chuckled softly, trying to match his enthusiasm. "Yeah, it’s been nice. I’m starting to feel more comfortable here."

That made Yuji’s grin widen. "Good! ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere! If you ever need anything, I’m here, okay?" His voice had a hint of something deeper, something that almost bordered on possessive, but his tone remained cheerful enough for you to brush it off.

"Thanks, Yuji. I appreciate it." You smiled back, though a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if his constant hovering would ever let up. Still, his heart was in the right place, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for space—not when he looked so genuinely happy to be around you.

Yuji’s grin stayed plastered on his face as the two of you continued walking through the courtyard. He shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing over at you every few seconds like he was making sure you were still there. “You know,” he started, his voice more casual now, “I’ve been thinking. Maybe after class, we could catch another movie. I’ve got a list of my favorites—ones I think you’ll really like.”

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, remembering the last time. “Another one? I’m still recovering from Human Earthworm.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay, maybe that one was a bit much for a first pick. But I swear, the others are better! Way less icky, promise.”

"Sure, I’m game," you agreed, though you mentally prepared yourself for whatever bizarre film he had in store next. Yuji’s excitement was contagious, and despite your reservations, you couldn’t say no to him. His energy was something you’d come to expect, and part of you didn’t mind indulging him.

Yuji’s face lit up. "Great! I’ll pick a good one this time, I swear! It’ll be something you actually like." His gaze softened for a moment as he added, "I want you to have fun, y’know? Since you’ve been spending all your time with me… I don’t want to, like, bore you or anything."

You looked at him, a little surprised by his sudden concern. "You’re not boring, Yuji," you reassured him, offering a warm smile. "I appreciate you showing me around and everything. It’s been… nice having someone like you around."

His eyes seemed to brighten at that, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Really? That’s… that’s great!” He practically beamed at you, looking like a puppy who’d just been given the best compliment of his life. “I was kinda worried, y’know? That maybe I was… uh… hanging around too much. But if you don’t mind, then I guess it’s all good!”

You hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Yeah, it’s fine. You’re just being helpful."

“Exactly!” he said, his voice picking up again with enthusiasm. “I just wanna help! I mean, I know being new here can be tough, so if I can make it easier for you, then I’m all in.”

As he talked, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you a bit longer than usual, like he was soaking up every word you said. There was something more in his gaze, something intense, but it was masked by his usual cheerfulness.

Before you could dwell on it, Yuji clapped his hands together. “Alright, so it’s a movie night then! I’ll grab some snacks, and we’ll meet up after class. You’re gonna love it, trust me!”

"Sounds like a plan," you said, trying to match his excitement, though a small part of you wondered just how long this constant attention would last. But as Yuji bounced beside you, clearly thrilled at the idea of spending more time together, you decided to push the thought aside.

At least for now.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few months later, Yuji entered the classroom, a bright grin on his face as usual. He was in a good mood—he always was when he knew he’d get to spend the day with you. These past months had been incredible for him. You two had grown closer, and he’d spent nearly every waking moment with you.

But as he walked in, something stopped him in his tracks. Across the room, you were standing with Nobara, her arms wrapped around you in a tight hug. A little further away, Megumi was shaking your hand, his expression calm but respectful.

Yuji’s brow furrowed. What was going on? His heart gave an uncomfortable lurch, and he felt the familiar knot of jealousy coil in his chest. Why are they so close to you? Nobara's arms around you, Megumi's hand in yours—he didn't like it. But he forced himself to keep a smile on his face as he made his way over.

“Hey!” Yuji called out, his voice slightly too cheerful as he approached the group. “What’s going on here?” He tried to keep his tone light, but the jealousy simmering beneath the surface was hard to hide. He clenched his fists at his sides, making sure to smile as if everything was fine. But inside, a storm was brewing.

You turned to face him, and Yuji’s stomach dropped when he saw the look on your face. There was a hint of sadness in your eyes, something he didn’t quite understand. He could feel his heart racing, a nervous energy starting to fill him as he waited for your answer.

“Yuji, I…” you started, your voice softer than usual. “I’m going back to the USA. I’ve decided that I’ve learned enough here, and it’s time for me to head home.”

Yuji felt like the ground had just been ripped out from beneath him. His heart clenched painfully, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He tried to keep the smile on his face, but it faltered as your words sunk in.

“You’re… leaving?” he asked, his voice cracking despite his efforts to keep it steady. “But… why? You were doing great here. You don’t have to go…”

You smiled gently, your expression filled with understanding but also finality. “Yeah, but I think it’s time. I’ve learned a lot, and I’ve enjoyed my time here, but… it’s time to go back.”

Yuji felt something inside him break, like a small piece of himself had been shattered. He tried to speak, to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he stood there, staring at you, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of it all.

"But… what about… us?" he finally asked, his voice barely a whisper. His mind flashed through the memories of the time you'd spent together—every laugh, every smile, every moment he’d spent at your side. He couldn’t imagine Jujutsu Tech without you. He didn’t want to. You can't just leave. Not now. Not when I…

You sighed, your expression soft. “I’ll still keep in touch. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again. This isn’t goodbye forever.”

But to Yuji, it felt like it. He could feel his heart sinking, a hollow ache spreading through his chest. He forced a smile, nodding as if he understood. “Yeah… yeah, of course. I mean, I’m happy for you,” he said, though his voice sounded distant to his own ears.

Nobara, still beside you, gave Yuji a sympathetic glance. “Hey, don’t be so down. They’ll visit, right? It’s not like we’re losing them completely.”

But to Yuji, it felt like losing everything.

“I’ll… I’ll catch up with you later,” Yuji mumbled, backing away before anyone could see the cracks forming in his usually bright demeanor. He turned and quickly left the room, the weight of your departure pressing down on him harder with each step.

As he walked down the hall, the reality hit him all at once. You were leaving. And no matter how much time you’d spent together, no matter how close you’d become, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Yuji walked aimlessly through the hallways, his mind a chaotic swirl of emotions. Every step felt heavier than the last, each breath more labored. He couldn’t believe it. You were leaving. The reality of it crushed him with an intensity he hadn’t anticipated. He replayed every moment of your time together, each smile and laugh, trying to convince himself that it had all meant something.

As he stood at a crossroads in his thoughts, one realization cut through the fog of his anguish—he couldn’t imagine his life without you. The time you had spent together wasn’t just a fleeting connection; it had grown into something deeper, something he couldn’t simply let go.

In his mind, you were his. All the moments, all the time you’d spent together, it couldn’t have meant nothing. You have to be his, Yuji thought desperately. You have to stay.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After school, he walked with purpose, his resolve firm. He knew where you were—your dorm room. He was going to see you, to make sure you knew how much you meant to him, how he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

As he approached your dorm, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. He needed to talk to you, to make you understand how important you were to him, to convince you that leaving wasn’t an option.

The door was slightly ajar, and he pushed it open, stepping inside. The room was quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of your belongings. You were sitting by your desk, going through some papers, seemingly lost in thought.

Yuji took a moment to collect himself, standing in the doorway as he looked at you. The sight of you in your dorm room, surrounded by your things, made his heart ache even more. He took another step forward, his voice trembling but filled with determination.

“Hey,” he started, his tone softer than he intended. “Can we talk?”

You looked up from your desk, surprised to see Yuji standing in your doorway. His face was a mix of determination and vulnerability that immediately caught your attention. You nodded, setting aside the papers and gesturing for him to come in.

“Sure, Yuji. What’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the apprehension you felt.

Yuji stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His eyes were intense, and there was a desperation in his expression that you hadn’t seen before. “I… I just wanted to talk about what you said earlier,” he began, his voice wavering slightly. “About you leaving.”

You sighed, feeling a pang of guilt as you met his gaze. “Yuji, I’ve made up my mind. It’s time for me to go back home. I’ve learned a lot here, and I think it’s best for me.”

Yuji shook his head, his eyes pleading. “No, you don’t understand. You can’t just leave. Not like this.”

“Why not?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation grounded. “It’s my decision, Yuji. It’s what I think is best for me.”

“But… what about us?” Yuji said, stepping closer. “All the time we’ve spent together—doesn’t that mean anything to you? Doesn’t it matter that we’ve grown so close?”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his words. “Of course it matters. But sometimes, we have to make tough choices. This is mine.”

Yuji’s eyes filled with tears, and he took another step closer, his voice trembling. “I can’t… I can’t imagine my life without you. You mean so much to me. Every day with you has been… incredible. I don’t want to lose that.”

You looked away, feeling your resolve beginning to waver. “Yuji, I… I don’t know what to say.”

Yuji reached out and gently took your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Please, don’t go. I need you here. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His confession hit you like a tidal wave, and you tried to process the intensity of his words. Yuji’s grip tightened on your hand, and he pulled you closer. His eyes searched yours, filled with an earnest, almost desperate longing.

“Yuji,” you whispered, feeling the heat of his emotions. “This isn’t fair…”

“I know,” Yuji said, his voice breaking. “But I can’t help how I feel. I need you. I need you to stay.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a gentle, almost pleading touch. The kiss was soft, but there was an undeniable intensity in it—a mixture of his desperation and his deep affection. Your mind raced as you felt the warmth of his lips, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear.

When he pulled back, his eyes were still locked on yours, filled with a hope that made your heart ache. “Please,” he repeated softly. “Stay with me.”

You felt your defenses crumble under the weight of his emotions. The kiss had stirred something inside you, a mix of affection and confusion. You were torn between your decision and the impact Yuji’s words—and actions—had on you.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay, Yuji. I’ll stay.”

Yuji’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy, his tears giving way to a bright, hopeful smile. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as if afraid you might slip away. The intensity of his embrace and the depth of his emotions were overwhelming, and you found yourself caught up in the storm of his love and need.

As he held you, Yuji felt a fragile sense of victory, his heart still racing from the raw vulnerability he had shown. He had managed to sway you, to keep you by his side, even if it meant pushing the boundaries of what was fair.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. “Okay, I’ll tell Gojo-sensei that I’m staying,” you said softly, trying to offer a sense of finality to your decision.

Yuji’s face lit up with unrestrained happiness. He practically glowed with relief, his eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and triumph. “Really? That’s… that’s amazing!” he exclaimed, his voice full of gratitude and relief. He wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned in, his face pressing against your neck in a gesture of affection and possessiveness.

You felt the warmth of his body against yours, his embrace both comforting and confining. It was clear how much this meant to him, how desperate he had been to keep you here. You reached for your phone, trying to maintain your composure as you dialed Gojo’s number.

As you waited for Gojo to pick up, Yuji’s nuzzling became more insistent. His breath tickled your neck, and his grip tightened, almost as if he were afraid you might slip away at any moment. The closeness of his body made it hard to focus on anything but him.

Gojo’s voice came through the phone, interrupting the moment. “Hey, [Your Name], what’s up?”

“Gojo-sensei,” you began, your voice wavering slightly as you tried to sound composed. “I’ve decided to stay here. I want to continue my training at Jujutsu Tech.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Gojo responded with a note of surprise. “Oh? That’s… unexpected. Are you sure? I thought you were set on leaving.”

“Yes,” you said, more firmly now. “I’ve thought it over and decided it’s best for me to stay.”

“Alright,” Gojo said, his tone accepting though still a bit puzzled. “If that’s what you want, then I’m glad to hear it. I’ll let everyone know.”

You ended the call and set your phone down, feeling Yuji’s embrace tightening even more. He seemed to be in a state of bliss, his head resting against your shoulder as he let out a contented sigh.

“You have no idea how happy I am,” Yuji murmured, his voice muffled by your neck. “I was so scared you’d leave. I couldn’t… I couldn’t bear it.”

As you stood there, feeling Yuji’s warmth enveloping you, a shiver ran down your spine. A small part of you was uneasy, a nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. But the intense emotion Yuji was showing you, combined with the sudden shift in your plans, made it hard to focus on anything but the present moment.

What you didn’t realize, however, was that Yuji had taken steps to ensure that you couldn’t leave if you wanted to. While you were making your decision, he had discreetly taken your passport and any other important documents you might need to travel. His love for you had driven him to secure you in ways that you hadn’t yet discovered.

For Yuji, this wasn’t just about convincing you to stay. In his mind, you were his, and he had done what he felt was necessary to make sure you would never leave. His embrace, his contentment, and his possessiveness were all part of a plan to keep you close, ensuring that no matter what, you would remain by his side forever.

[inoreuct]

punkflower where hobie loves the morales family, loves how they’re becoming HIS family.

still, the first time jeff calls him “son”, he has such a visceral reaction.

he knows it’s coming from a good place and he knows he should be touched, but he’s only ever been called son in a condescending way. in a “know your place beneath me and stay in it” way. he feels so sick all of a sudden, nausea roiling in his gut, and his knee bangs against the underside of the table as he screeches his chair back and mutters a shaky “’scuse me”.

he hears rio’s concerned call of his name, sees the confusion and dread on jeff’s face right before he turns and leaves. he doesn’t stop until he’s up on the roof, ducking into the bottom of the water tower and collapsing into a corner.

stupid. it’s so stupid, and it pisses him off how tears are burning down his cheeks.

hobie scrubs them away with the back of his wrist even as he hears the door to the roof creak open, hears the familiar gait that he knows belongs to miles. he keeps his face turned away as his boyfriend appears in his line of sight, stepping gingerly like if he moved too fast hobie would break.

the punk sniffs angrily, the spikes on his cuff poking his cheek as he wipes his tears again. a hand brushes his against the ground as miles sits down beside him, close enough to touch but not quite.

he waits. for miles to say something, anything; to ask for an explanation, or offer words of comfort that will ultimately only make him feel worse.

in the end, it’s him that breaks the silence.

“i’m sorry,” he offers, and cringes. his voice is thick like rusted metal, scratchy in his throat. it’s scraping up against old wounds that never really healed, pulling at scabs to draw fresh blood, and it stings. “m’sorry, i just— he’s—” it feels damning to even say these words, but it’s the truth, and hobie’s never been a good liar.

doesn’t mean it’s not eating him alive, though.

“he’s still a cop, miles,” he chokes out, guilt winching around his lungs like a parasite, “and the last time a cop called me son—” hobie’s breath shudders out of his lungs as miles crawls into his space, ducking his head beneath hobie’s arm to press the punk’s face to his chest.

“i know,” miles murmurs, wrapping his fingers around hobie’s nape as hobie scrunches a desperate fist into the back of his shirt. “i know. i understand.”

hobie doesn’t think he really does, but that’s okay. if hobie has any say in it, miles will never have to go through what he did and understand what it’s like.

his voice is meek as he asks, “are they mad?”

“‘course not.” miles clicks his tongue, gently admonishing, like it’s a fact hobie should know by now; his fingers trace gentle circles into hobie’s skin. “just worried. hope you know my mama’s gonna feed you thrice the usual serving of tres leches when we get back.”

that gets a chuckle out of him at least, but the look on jeff’s face still haunts him, burned front and centre into his mind’s eye like an afterimage. “and your dad?” he feels miles go still, doesn’t resist as his boyfriend pulls back to look hobie in the eye. his voice is terribly gentle.

“he understands. it’s okay.”

hobie doesn’t think it’s okay. it doesn’t feel very okay. jeff had disliked him at first and reasonably so; he’s nothing like a person anyone would want their kid to be with.

and yet the captain had let him into their home, accepted him as miles’s person, given him a place at the table. of course rio would have sat him down and shoved food into his hands regardless, but still—

“hobie.”

miles calls his attention back, and he looks up into wide, dark eyes. his heart burns.

“he knows what you’ve been through. he knows how much you’ve grown.” miles huffs a soft laugh, rubbing his thumb against hobie’s hairline. “do you remember that time we went to your concert?”

hobie nods; he doesn’t think he can speak just yet.

“you were so nervous about what he would think, but he was stressing about looking like an old man in front of your friends. he literally said that as your boyfriend’s dad he had to out-hip all the other guys his age.”

something twists in hobie’s chest. “he’s the coolest old man i know.” he pauses, frowning. “maybe after peter b.”

miles laughs again, quietly. “he cares about you.”

hobie doesn’t doubt that. he’d let jeff and rio learn about him piece by piece, and with every sliver of information jeff had softened more; he might be the captain of the PDNY, but he was also a father.

hobie’s never really had a father.

not until he was asked about whether he preferred waffles or pancakes. until he was consulted for advice on what to wear to a pride parade. until jeff only looked at his blue laces with a tentative expression and he was hesitantly slipped a phone number to call if he ever got into trouble in this dimension that he couldn’t get himself out of, a helpline should he ever need it.

so he gets up, takes a deep breath and hauls miles to his feet. his boots clomp down the stairs; he takes care not to fling open the door and when he sees jeff and rio hovering in the living room, he holds out his arms.

rio reaches him first. she’s shorter but fierce, pulling hobie down to hug him tight, and he feels like crying again.

miles slips close to cling to his back, arms sliding around his waist, and hobie watches jeff meet his eyes with something almost anxious.

hobie’s lips twist in a smile. an i’m sorry and an it’s okay wrapped in one.

and maybe it really is okay, because when jeff comes around to squeeze them all together, hobie can’t help his relieved sigh as he thinks, this is what family’s supposed to feel like, certain as the next deep breath he takes and comforting like the broad hand that squeezes his shoulder.

fin.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... J'onn broke the news that Danny thinks he's going to be forced into combat in exchange for his medical care. Everyone disliked that™.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

COME GET YOUR NEW ART HERE 💥🍳!!💥 IT'S FIBERCRAFT!!Shoutout to @rainbowbeansprout for crocheting a fic accurate injured ghost Danny!! That's outstanding!!

💚👻👽👻💚

So, Wally broke all of the bones in his legs yesterday.

Which is…not ideal. Still. He’s pretty used to it at this point, though, and he’s already mostly healed.

It’s just that. Well.

…The rest of healing is kind of…time-consuming.

So Wally’s in basketball shorts and a mask and a t-shirt he’d started using as pajamas when he was in college and he’s on the med floor of the Watchtower, and yet another physical therapist is helping him bend his leg back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, because he’d tripped in the middle of the Speedforce and busted everything hip-down.

So. (Back, and forth. Back, and forth. Back…) This sucks.

“Do we have to do this every time?” Wally asks, as if there isn’t a team of medical professionals kept on hand to deal with Superpower-wrought Super Medical Problems.

“Do you have to shatter your legs every time?” the PT asks back wryly, which, hey! The pressure pressing up against his bare foot is an additional stressor to the sass. “Bend this more for me, Flash. You can do it.”

Wally grumbles, and pretends the angle his leg is bending at doesn’t make him wince. Wow is he going to have to build his flexibility back up again.

The physical therapy room looks just like any other gym, basically; a lot of squishy mats in playful colors, a lot of grippy tape; a LOT of wipeable vinyl surfaces that can be sanitized at a moment’s notice. It smells kind of weird and plasticky and kind of like alcohol cleaner.

It’s not his favorite room in the Watchtower, but, eh. It could be way worse. What’s unusual is the whirrr of the door opening and closing in one of the private care rooms for another patient, since, you know...HIPAA and all that. Wally assumes. Or is it costume confidentiality once you leave Earth's atmosphere...?

Usually everyone knows who’s stopping in for PE through the sheer power of the Justice League gossip groupchats. (There’s at least nine. Wally’s in four of them. He aspires to be in two more by April.) There hasn’t been a big fight that requires long-term medical care in a while, and there’s no one Wally can think of who’d need this kind of recovery.

Something’s buzzing at the outside of his awareness, though. It sounds kind of…

Wally perks up. “Hey, the alien kid’s here!”

The PT holding Wally up at the waist hums. Her name is Cindy, and judging from their previous conversations, she thinks that Wally is the dumbest man alive. “There’s a million of those, Flash. Which one?”

“The one who bit Superman,” Wally adds.

Judging by the face Cindy makes, this clarifies nothing.

“Most recently,” Wally stresses, carefully not wincing as his leg gets stretched out again, only to be pulled back into position as tightly as before. “OW. Cindy, you’re killing me.”

Cindy makes a strangled noise. She asks: “What, again?” which is how Wally remembers that he got torn back out of the time stream not all that long ago, and it may be a big gauche to joke about your own death with the people who care about it.

Whoops. Wally winces. “…Nevermind?”

The other PTs make various fussy and annoyed noises, but the alien kid is wheeled onto the other side of the medical floor’s only gym. (The actual training floors are on another level. Wally wishes he was there. Alone.)

(Without four PTs clinging to his legs at all times.)

Wally waves. It’s a nice enough gesture, and now that the alien-phantasm-turned-flesh-and-blood-boy is more physically embodied than he used to be, the boy even deigns to carefully wave back.

The kid’s PTs—Wally thinks at least one of them is from the team that supervises Bart and his super-powered-leg-problems—end up encouraging the alien kid’s chair round to the soft mats where the kid can lay down. He ends up in the exact same position Wally is—horizontal on the floor, legs forcibly pinwheeled by enthusiastic but firm PTs.

Wally can physically feel the kid’s astonishment and discontentment buzzing in the air as he figures out what’s being done to him. Wally can’t help but laugh.

The kid angles his head towards the speedster. His face still looks—well, it looks…bad. It looks bad, unhealed and still threatening to weep neon green body fluids; there’s a wet, living crack running up and down his face that makes eye contact kind of hard. His hands are all spidery—this kid can probably hold and grip things, but the previous breakage have left his hands a little too easy to splay, a little too oddly-angled. He’s too thin to keep himself fully upright for long. When he looks at you, his eyes shake like a poorly lined-up television signal.

Martian Manhunter had said that he’d once looked like a healthy, happy human child. His current form is a reflection of the injuries he’d experienced since.

...What a thing for a kid to go through. Wally wouldn’t wish this sort of injury on anyone.

“­Alright, up you go,” the PT above him—Rhys, Wally remembers at the very last second—orders, and Wally is prompted to let the man help him back upright. “Over to the bars for you. You think your legs are up to bearing that kind of weight as you try out walking?”

“…Sure,” Wally lies to Rhys. It’ll be fine. Probably. By the time he gets over there, his legs might have already speed-healed by then. “Hand me the—?”

“Yeah, yeah, here’s the crutches. Don’t destroy yourself trying to make this happen, okay?”

So Wally gets set up at the glorified playground equipment in his least restrictive gym clothes, one long iron bar under one arm, and one long iron bar under the other. Two full-size physical therapists spot him as the speedster completes the most strenuous task available to him at the moment: walking across a very short distance without putting his full weight on his legs.

Wally puts one shaking leg in front of the other. The steps are slow. The urge to zoom to the end of the little bowling lane he’s stuck in—and therefore shatter his legs under the speedforce, again—is irresistibly temping.

Healing sucks. And Wally’s even got the longer end of the stick.

In the end, Wally sticks the landing. He is unreasonably sweaty. He is miserable. But he makes it to the end. Every one of the witnessing PTs applauds as if this is a great success. It’s literally not. It’s the inevitable result of pushing himself too far for the third time this year.

A question buzzes through the air, fluffing through Wally’s hair and the little fine hairs up and down his body. It’s nothing but inquisitive—whatareyoudoing whatareyoudoing?

Wally lets the PT maneuver a chair underneath him. It gives him enough breathing room to turn his upper torso, and he ends up catching the eye of the little alien kid in the corner. He’s sat on a yoga ball, two members of his medical team and one of the kids’ PTs trying to get his attention back to his exercises.

“Hey,” Wally realizes suddenly. “Your casts are gone!”

The kids’ legs are actually bare, which Wally’s never seen before. They’re twiggy, sure, stretched taut over a bone frame, and discolored and pale, but they’re legs. Wally hadn’t even known the alien had possessed legs until he’d formed a physical body months and months ago.

“Dude, that’s great!”

Happy/smug/proud vibrates through the room, making Wally’s teeth buzz. The kid smiles through a half-split lip, and bounces on the yoga ball ever so slightly.

“Good,” the kid says, surprising Wally, his PTs, and the kid’s usual medical team. He was talking already?! He thought J’onn had said—

“Hurt?” the boy asks, concern/concern flooding through the air. Oh. Right. He’s probably here for his busted legs; it would make sense that by virtue of the setting, Wally would be injured too.

And, sure, Wally busted his legs, but he at least heals with all the swiftness of the speedforce. “Meh.” Wally waves off the question. “I’m fine. It’ll be quick for me; some rehab and some lunch and a few days off, and I’ll be in shipshape.”

Wait. Wally’s eyes scrunches up. Is using wordplay appropriate with this kid…?

“Pain?” the kid asks, and turned his attention to the closest member of his medical team. “He pain?”

The medical professional sighs, which finally clues Wally in that the man is no longer masked. Hey, the kid is out of medical isolation! “The Flash has his own medication, thankfully. His doctors know what to do.”

The kid frowns. He doesn’t get it. He looks at Wally, and he looks at the staffer, who shrugs. “It’s the usual indicator word he uses for pain medication. He’s wondering if you’re hurt enough to need some.”

Wally hums. On one hand, it’s sweet that the alien kid is worried about him. It’s a huge step upwards from the alien who spent all his time hiding in abandoned meeting rooms and occasionally biting Superheroes.

On the other hand, the kid doesn’t just look worried that Wally might not be getting care; he looks scared.

Something happened to this kid. Something he can't shake off.

Wally breathes in, and breathes out.

—And breathes in sharply when Cindy starts wiggling his feet. She doesn’t respond at all to his glare, because she is a professional, and he is not a big baby of a superhero.

Mean.

“I’m fine,” Wally finally responds, trying to alleviate the kid’s concerns through sheer vibes-telepathy alone. Who knows if it’s working, but it makes Wally feel better about trying at the very least. “I’ve got my own team to fix me up, and they do a good job of taking care of me. Even if they’re bullying me at my most vulnerable.”

“Anything for you, boss,” Cindy volleys back cheerfully. “Gimme your other leg.”

The tension in the air slowly dissipates. The kid doesn’t stop shooting occasional looks at the unadorned, half-out-of-uniform Flash, but he does let Bart’s little PT team get to working on stretching out his previously-bound now-physical legs and getting him upright—if only for a few seconds at a time, balanced precariously by humans who actually touch his back and arms and hips and legs.

Wally’s session wraps up before the kid’s does. He’s not in any rush. He gets onto the walking crutches Rhys leaves out for his temporary use and lopes over to watch, occasionally hooting and applauding when the kid pulls off something no one’d been sure he could do.

The double handed high-five Wally offers him at the end is punctuated with shaky eye contact, two working hands, and a green-threaded beaming grin.

*

Diana cheerfully digs into her kebab lunch, plastic cutlery pushed to their maximum limit before threatening to break under her prodigious strength. “You know, Batman,” she starts, beaming, “My charge gave me his name the other day.”

Bruce sets down his muenster-ham-and-whole-wheat sandwich mid-bite. “I’ll need to hear everything,” he says immediately, to which Diana tuts.

“Oh, Batman, I could never break his trust like that,” she says, sweet as anything. She finesses a bite of lamb from the skewer and takes a neat bite.

“…Wonder Woman,” Batman says.

“Hm?”

“Diana.”

“Is there something you needed, Bruce?” Diana asks, pleased with herself. There genuinely is very little that could be done with a vague description of a now-altered human form and a first name alone; besides, she genuinely does feel that hearing the boy’s name come from others’ lips would be upsetting for him. Danny offered his name to Diana alone, and so it shall remain until hers alone he offers it to others.

Still, she is not above bragging.

“I need information.” Bruce’s face underneath his mask is stone.

Diana dips a second chunk of lamb into a little container of tzatziki sauce. “Well, then,” she points out, “Shouldn’t you spend some time building rapport with my charge, then?”

The feared Batman of Gotham, father of a half-dozen highly trained heroes, bristles like a wet cat. The demeanor is almost comical. He knows what he looks like to non-Gothamite children. He knows his suit will make this fight for common familiarity an uphill battle.

Diana smugly works through her lunch and ignores Bruce’s silent brooding as he does the same.