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#hey look they’re wonderful
benjaminthecoathanger · 11 months
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i got inspired by seeing other disco elysium jackets so i painted shivers on my battle jacket! this is the first proper thing i’ve painted and i’m v proud of it!
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mcfazbenders · 4 months
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ignore my horrible writing. -Percy
[It’s dark out, most of the employees aside from the Phoneys going home. Well— Dave’s just following Jack, as per usual. Jack’s gotten used to it, inviting Dave over to chat while they walk to his house.
It’s just small talk, though Jack’s clearly not thinking about what either of them are talking about. There’s a thought stuck on his mind.
he decides to speak up.]
“Hey, Dave.. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, why the hell not, Sportsy? Ask away, buddy.”
“…”
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theearnestonion · 6 months
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Idk what synapses just lit up in my brain that sometimes when people say chewing your nails is gross, they just mean what they said. Which I dislike but at least understand. But other times, they mean having really short nails is gross. And I resent that.
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saetoru · 6 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)
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synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case
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length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)
contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll
notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away
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right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.
so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.
it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.
by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.
but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.
and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.
“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.
“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.
bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.
suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.
“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.
you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.
“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”
“i know.”
“you should be at school grounds.”
“i know.”
“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.
bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.
“where did you find these kids?”
“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”
again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.
“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”
“i told them they’d be safe here.”
they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.
maybe not right now.
you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.
your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.
you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”
they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.
right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.
“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.
“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”
great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.
“here.”
“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.
“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”
“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”
“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”
“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.
for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.
you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”
——————
nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.
he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.
you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.
the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?
“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”
“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”
“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”
“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”
“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”
“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”
“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.
being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.
you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.
haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.
suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.
there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.
but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.
but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.
“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”
something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.
something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.
“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”
“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”
“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.
“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”
“what changed?”
“everything.”
“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.
“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.
“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”
“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.
co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.
but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.
“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”
you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.
“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.
“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”
“for us…all?”
“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”
he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”
it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.
“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”
“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”
you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.
so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.
“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”
“but you did.”
“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”
“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”
“they need me,” he defends.
“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.
you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.
he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.
you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.
they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.
suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.
“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”
“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.
“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”
“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.
“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.
“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”
he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.
cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.
“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.
he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”
“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”
————— BONUS —————
“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”
“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.
“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”
“what—”
“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”
“that’s not—”
“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”
“he’s not even married—”
“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”
“gojo—”
“see ya!”
he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.
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satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts
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sillyblues · 10 months
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𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you overhear a couple of spider-people talking about you and miguel
ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by a scene of a drama i saw in tiktok at 11:30 pm whoops here’s a small scenario while i work on that hiding pregnancy with miguel fic
part 2
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You hummed to yourself as you walked towards Miguel’s room. You were so excited to talk to him about how your days went and if you were lucky, maybe you’d get to hear how his day went as well. It wasn’t like he doesn’t talk about himself, of course he does, you two were practically the bestest of friends now. It’s just that nowadays, he seemed more stressed and preferred to listen to you talk. Or at least you hoped so. He never really complained each time you rambled his ears off (which was like 83790134 times a day oops).
But a mention of your name in a hushed conversation stops your tracks.
“... [Name] is pretty close to Miguel, huh?” the conversation was actually a bit far from where you stood but thanks to your extreme superhearing, you were able to hear what they were talking about. You tilted your head. I wonder why they’re talking about me…
“Nah, I don’t think so. Miguel doesn’t even seem to like them.” You grumbled under your breath. That’s just what it looked like to others. They didn’t know that you know Miguel’s favourite empanadas are the ones sold by a Mexican granny on a stand right around the corner outside the building. They didn’t know that Miguel actually remembers what you say to him and even reacts to your stories. If that isn’t what you call friends in their natural behaviour, you don’t know what to call it.
“Yeah, it’s probably because they never stop talking. Their mouth just never know how to close for at least 10 minutes.”
“Miguel is probably annoyed at them. I wonder how he manages to keep his patience from running out with them.”
You bit your lip. Yeah, they were right…You admit that you talk a lot and you do feel a bit bad about it. But your friends haven’t told you to stop talking or that you were bothering them yet so you thought it was fine with them. If your friends said something about it, you would definitely stop and try to talk less for them. You were sure your friends would say something if they were uncomfortable, especially Miguel. You believe in them and you believe in him.
“I know right! If I was him, I would…” so you took a step forward and continued to walk towards your destination. Only this time, you weren’t humming.
.
.
.
“Hi, Miguel! Good afternoon! Such a lovely day, isn’t it?” you quirked up immediately as soon as you stepped foot into his office. As usual, he was on top of his floating station. Most of the time, he worked on planning and storing files with Lyla about which planets had been reported with anomalies. Sometimes, he watched videos of his daughter Gabriella and himself despite having already seen them countless times.
Miguel was lonely. You could see that. Sure, he had Jess and Hobie and Peter, but Jess was pregnant, Hobie was busy fighting against the government and being cool, and Peter had Mayday. You try your best to be with him because maybe he would feel less lonely with you around for him. Maybe he would be distracted by whatever you say from his exhaustion and his pain.
You swung yourself and landed on his platform. He was standing with multiple yellow screens hovered almost around him. His hands were on his waist and there was a glare on his face as he stared at it. He gave you a brief glance before turning his attention back to his work. Well, looks like today is a busy work day for him, huh. 
“Hey booo,” Lyla appeared in front of you and waved. You grinned at her. “Hey, Lyla! What’s up?”
“Ugh nothing much, except for Mr. O’hara on his red flood apparently.” She leaned and covered the side of her lips to whisper but it was no use to the said person with his abilities.
“I heard that.” His exasperated response was instant but he didn’t look away from the screen.
“Really? You did?” She asked with a higher and tightened voice with amusement. She then flashed a quick message to you. 
Miguel has been working even after you left three days ago. He wouldn’t take a rest no matter how many times I told him.
What? You looked at the back of his head in alarm. Worry immediately settled in your head and you furrowed your brows. Before you could convince him to stop, Lyla quickly made the message disappear and announced, “Oops, my power is running low. Gotta charge them now, byeeee.”
“I literally just checked your levels yesterday. Come back here—” he was cut off by her disappearing form.
He groaned and in his frustration, he swapped away the nearby items on the table. Most of them were papers but unfortunately, he didn’t notice he also swept away the teddy bear that you gifted him. It was similar to one Gabriella had and you knew this from the videos you watched with him. You thought how nice it would be to have at least a physical reminder of your love and not just ones you can see and hear. 
“I’ll get it, don’t worry!”
From his strength, the bear was flung high and without even thinking you walked backwards as you focused on its direction. You were being stupid because you forgot that you were on top of a floating platform and the floor wasn’t endless. The bear was almost near within your reach and with just one more step, you would be able to get it.
That one more step didn’t step on any solid floor but instead on air and so, you fell but not without the teddy bear in your hands. 
“[Name]!” Miguel shouted and you looked at him and finally, he was looking at you now. He ran at your falling figure with arms reaching out to you and for a second, you thought there was a tinge of panic and desperation laced in his hoarse voice and wide eyes. 
Sticky web was shot at your chest and you were quickly pulled towards him. You were hit against his figure and he caught you in his arms. You stilled and flushed, your ear was pressed against his chest and you could hear his roaring heart that beat so fast. He immediately shook you by your shoulders and yelled at you. “What were you thinking? Why weren’t you looking?”
“I mean, I was trying to catch it—” you flinched.
“Are you stupid? ¿y si te lastimas?” his nails were digging into your skin and his grip was beginning to hurt. You tried to laugh but came it off weakly.
“I just don’t want to see my gift get dirty. Besides, I’m fine—,” you tried to joke, hoping it would ease the tension and calm him down.
“Just shut up! Shut up!” he pushed you away with a growl, “Stop being so fucking reckless. I could have done it by myself. Stop annoying other people by doing stupid shit like this!”
He was breathing heavily, anger so deep in his eyes. Your eyes were wide and tears threatened to fall as you listened until it finally fell once he said his final word. Maybe the realization had finally settled in Miguel’s mind at what he had just said. His eyes widened in panic and reached out to you but you took a step back.
Your head hung low as you let his words sink in. Annoying? You couldn't even laugh bitterly like you usually do in situations like this. They were right. You were annoying him. You bit your lip. Had you been a bother to him all this time? How come Miguel never said anything?
Suddenly, his cold indifference to you was so clear and obvious now. Memories of him visibly annoyed with a frown flashed through your head. The sudden awareness made your head hurt and it burned your heart. It throbbed with a pang and you felt incapable of breathing, the pain overwhelming.
No, Miguel wasn't responsible for telling you this. You should've known better, you called yourself his “bestest friend”. You shouldn't have talked to him. You shouldn't have approached him in the first place.
You were annoying. You were a nuisance. You were a problem.
Stupid. Stupidstupidstupidstupid—
“[Name], I,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn't mean—”
“No, it's fine,” you wiped your tears and pressed the teddy bear you gifted him and wanted to catch for him. You wonder if this bear was also a bother for him. Maybe it was. Everything related to you is irritating. You were tiresome. “I should be the one to say that. I’m sorry.”
“I need to go now. I’m really sorry, again.” With a brief glance at him, you immediately turned around and swung down. You almost ran as you made your exit from his office. You did the know where exactly to go, only anywhere without him and far away from him. Strength had left you once you were outside his office and you walked and walked and walked. 
Maybe if you left, nobody would find you annoying anymore.
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Protective Simon. For the beautiful and talented @lethalchiralium
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Simon’s phone is ringing. 
Price raises an eyebrow from the end of the table, pausing mid-sentence, confused. Simon’s phone never rings. It’s always on full volume, because he never gets phone calls, except for ones from the 141, and they’re all here. At this briefing.  
His fingers find the ringer, ready to silence what he’s sure is a nuisance call, some telemarketer or robot, when he reads your name across the screen. 
You’ve never called him before. Unease tightens across his chest, and without any explanation, he excuses himself from the room and the bewildered looks being cast his way. 
“Hey, you-“
“Simon?” You sound off. Like you’re trying to be calm, but there’s something lingering on the edge of your voice, something scared. His spine goes stiff. 
It’s enough to propel him into action, his fist thumping against the window of the brief room, jerking his head south. I’m leaving, the motion signifies. Emergency.
“What’s wrong?” 
“N-nothing. Just… there’s this guy that’s been like, half a block behind me since I got off the train.” He closes his eyes. The fucking train. He wants you to stop taking the train. He needs you to stop taking the train. 
“He followed you from the platform?” 
“Well, he could be walking this way too…” 
“Where are you?” His keys are already in his hand, and he’s running down the hallway, past bewildered administrative staff and everyone else, bursting through the back door and into the truck. His phone chimes with multiple text messages, Price, Johnny, Gaz. All wondering where the hell he ran off to. Only Johnny’s text scratches the surface: Is it your neighbor? He waits another second in silence, hoping you’re trying to get your bearings. “Sweetheart?” 
“I’m… I think we’re coming up on seventh and Warsail. ‘m not too sure. I’ve kind been walking in a roundabout way.” We’re coming up on seventh… we. 
The baby is with you. 
His foot slams the accelerator onto the floor, counting his breaths as he maneuvers each turn in the road. Do you have the stroller? Are you carrying her? Did this guy peg you as an easy target because he knows what Simon knows, that women are more likely to go along with instruction if their child is threatened? That you’d never leave Emmaline behind? That you’d do anything to protect her? 
He feels sick. 
“Are there other people around?” He’s calm on the phone, trying to visualize the street, the buildings, the alleys. Easy spots where cars could reach the highway in seconds, and then be gone. Cramped alleys that connect to others like tangled webs, able to swallow a human being easy, disappear them into the darkness. It makes his stomach turn over. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel so hard; it hurts.
“Yeah, it’s close to the end of the day, so-“ 
“Stay where others can see you. Are you sure you’re on seventh and Warsail?” 
“Yeah. We’re in that park. I-I… wanted to take Emma to see the ducks.” Your voice wavers. “Simon he’s still behind us.” He’s turning the corner now, a block from your cross streets, and instead of yielding for oncoming traffic like he should, he floors it through an intersection, abandoning the truck still on, half parked in an empty street spot.  “Stay where you are, sweetheart. Okay? I’m coming.” 
“You… wait, what? You’re what?” He doesn’t hang up, but keeps the phone against his ear, and takes off down the street in a sprint, fully subscribed to the worst-case scenarios that have been building in his mind, images of you and Emmaline bloody and bruised, or worse. He gets them confused for a moment, memories mixing with the present, two things swirling together until they become indistinguishable, noise and panic roaring too loudly in his head. 
It all comes screeching to a stop. 
He spots you in the park. You do have the stroller, and you’re by the little pond, headphones in, Emmaline in your arms, her little beanie pulled down over her ears. You’re glancing around, nervous, saying his name into the mic. He scans the rest of the faces, passing over anyone who doesn’t strike him as a creepy git, until he finds his target: a skinny, younger guy lurking on the edge of the fence line, watching you. He hangs up the phone and moves across the park involuntarily, rolling his shoulders, and he vaguely sees you from the corner of his eye, mouth dropped open in shock, faintly calling his name. 
“Hey, mate. C’mere.” He shouts, half the people in the vicinity startling in his direction. Everyone seems to move away, like a magnetic force, pulsing outwards as he overtakes the guy with an easy grab to his upper arm. “You like stalking women with babies?” He hisses in his ear, voice low with barely contained rage. The guy is younger than him, but rail thin, and coked out. Probably looking for money. Simon jerks him closer, and he actually yells for help, like he’s a victim. It’s enough to ground the situation, making Simon realize he has an audience, and he grits out a final warning before shoving him away. “I ever see you around my girls again… I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Piss off.” 
“What did he say?” You’re frantic, rubbing Emmaline’s back in a circular pattern, over and over like you’re trying to calm her, even though she’s perfectly content. It’s you who needs soothing, he realizes, and he takes your hand without questioning it, letting his instincts guide him in regard to you without overthinking it. 
“He was high, love. Looking for money.” He doesn’t want to scare you but… he doesn’t despise the idea of instilling some hypervigilance. Maybe this will convince you not to take the train. 
“Oh my god.” 
“Think I scared him off for good though.” He looks around, and then slips off his mask, wide thumb stroking a soft touch on Emma’s cheek before giving you a gentle squeeze. “It’s alright now.” You visibly relax, but don’t let go of his hand, tilting your face up to his, all bright and beautiful, still coming down from the adrenaline of your fear with a whisper on your lips, meant for only him to hear. 
“Our hero.”
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azullumi · 10 months
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“his habits during it” ; genshin men
warning — nsfw content ahead but nothing that graphic or explicit (seriously i tried my best to not even mention the word sex and the genitals)
summary — there’s one thing he loves to do whenever the two of you get in bed together.
characters — diluc, kazuha, ayato, kaveh, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno, zhongli, and wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader) ; no specified anatomy nor even mentioned parts
tags — kind of fluff, nsfw, not proof-read (wrote this while i was irritated and needed something to pour my attention to) ; headcanons
words — 1265
note — hey siri, how do you say they’re fucking without saying they’re fucking
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handholding
DILUC — (i have already said this before) diluc likes, no, he loves the intimacy the simple act of holding one’s hand has even when two of you are just walking together side by side or when his skin is pressed against yours, lips colliding against one another, and he’s whispering words of affection to your ears—a mere distraction and a sense of comfort, grounding you and keeping you with him. it’s just that effortless gesture of intertwining his hand with yours, locking fingers, as he indulges in the way you feel around him. he squeezes your hand in the middle of it all and oh, how he melts so much when you also squeeze his own in return. he could never tell you how much you make him so soft and weak with just the slightest hold.
eye contact
KAZUHA — “don’t look away now,” he coos at you, seeing how you shy yourself and avert your gaze away from him which he obviously didn’t like. he likes seeing you coming undone while you try to remain eye contact with him—it pleases him seeing your features contort into into what you are currently feeling—, likes teasing you every time you try to look away from him and hide your expression, likes saying such remarks that gets you embarrassed most times just so he could see and watch the change of your expressions every single time. he just loves looking at you, adoring you with his eyes, especially more so when you also do the same and keep contact, gaze nailed on each other.
praises and talking dirty
AYATO — he’s a talker, both outside the matters in the bedroom and inside the sheets, so it’s no wonder that he always shower you with praises in every chance that he gets even if you’re not in the right mind to respond or even comprehend what he’s saying. he conveys most of his affections through the words that falls out of his lips, finding it so easy to say such things and teasing you with it, he can’t help it, can he? how could he not when you look so pretty—not only outside the bedroom—or beautiful, or handsome, or lovely, or anything that he could think of right at that moment when he sees you naked? Even if he had held and seen you with nothing to cover your skin so many times, he still gets mesmerized by the sight of you like it was his first time.
playing with your hair
KAVEH — he plays with it, he tugs on it, pulls on it, and everything. and though it gives him some sense of control especially when he pulls on it, it also grounds him and helps him realize the affection and love being shared between you two in this intimate moment. sometimes he only dances his fingers on your head, treating you softly and tenderly with the delicate hold of his hand on your hair, which could often provide a huge contrast to what he’s actually doing, the rough treatment he’s giving you which makes you roll your eyes and see spots in your vision. “you look so pretty like this, my love,” he would say before tugging your hair back to take a good look at your face or to tilt your head in a way that gives him more access to your neck.
lots of kisses
TIGHNARI — gently laying you down the bed? kisses you while doing so. sliding your clothes off your body? presses his lips against yours before trailing down, tracing your jaw, his mouth making its way down your neck, and resting on your collarbone. asking you consent? he kisses you before he speaks. he presses gentle kisses of adoration all over you as he pushes himself into you, your bodies becoming one in the process, providing comfort and easing you as he could feel your nails digging deep into his skin and possibly, leaving marks and wounds but he didn’t mind. his fondness and desire murmuring into you, helping you breath and regain yourself. it was clear that his way of affection was simply just kissing you.
giving orders
CYNO — he doesn’t always take the dominant position but perhaps it was the sense of authority, the power whenever he does it. he has the habit of giving orders and commands whenever you two are spending a passionate moment and seeing you willing to follow him ignites something in him—however, if you disobey him, then that’s a different matter altogether (it’s not like he hates it however. deep in him, he likes it as it gives him the pass to do more things but with your consent, of course). you’re so vulnerable, so obedient to him and it fuels his excitement further when you follow what he says. it makes him wonder, a question pondering his head, how could he have someone like you, someone as lovely and sweet as you, so good to him?
restriction / holding your hands together
ZHONGLI — no, it is not the act of locking your fingers with his as he pushes himself into you just like diluc, this one is completely different. he has big hands, we all know that zhongli’s hands are big and one of it just enough to bind both of your wrists together—he is well-aware of that fact and abuses it. he likes seeing you struggle, tugging your hand against his but his hold wouldn’t budge, at all. although zhongli hasn't explicitly told or mentioned it, he absolutely loves the way you look so helpless and weak whenever he holds your hands together, whenever he restricts your movement. oftentimes, he would have a silk ribbon—it has to be a silk ribbon—tying you up just so he could rest his hands on your hips and hold you.
hands always touching and roaming around your body
ALHAITHAM — he just loves to feel you, in general. he loves the softness of your skin underneath the tip of his fingers as he glides his hand all across your body, the warmth of you seething into his touch and being buried in his bones, and he is obsessed on the way he could feel the sweet trembles of your body underneath his hand, could sense the small shiver when he finally touches you, and he adores it and he doesn’t hesitate in conveying his affections to you, often accompanying his caresses with his words of praises and compliments. perhaps it overwhelms you, not knowing where to focus yourself on, and he loves seeing you in such a state, pushing you more and more further to the edge with his hands and mouth alone.
biting and leaving marks
WANDERER — the line between pain and pleasure soon blurs into one as he bites into you while, and one could say it serves as a distraction but it isn’t, it’s not even close to being a distraction, it’s simply something that adds to the stimulation that you are feeling, overwhelming and effectively bringing you into some sort of space. he takes joy in the sounds that you make once he buries his neck on the curve of your neck, hard but not hard enough to draw blood; he takes pride in seeing the bruises and marks that he left on you, looking at you like you were a work of art carved and sculpted into something more than perfection with his own hands.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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slttygeto · 9 months
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SLOWLY LOVING YOU — SUGURU GETO.
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જ⁀➴ synopsis: Before Yaga introduces you to the third years, Suguru is a little unsure of you joining them. And then he meets you, and suddenly his heart doesn’t know how to slow down.
જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, reader gets a few cuts and faints, swearing and a lot of fluff.
જ⁀➴ word count: 4,2k
જ⁀➴ note: thank you to the sweet @duhsies for commissioning me! I had so much fun writing it<3!!
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“Yaga says there’s a newcomer,” Satoru had a habit of speaking with a mouthful, which Suguru really hated. A hand is smacking the back of the white haired’s head who hisses at the contact before glaring at his best friend.
“Hey!” He protests, his sunglasses resting at the tip of his nose.
“Swallow your food.” Suguru presses, taking a sip from his drink. He had heard long ago from Yaga about this newcomer, and wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. It’s not that he wasn’t good with new people (he wasn’t), but he felt like it was a little odd to transfer someone and have them be with him, Shoko and Gojo right away. They had to have a good cursed technique, a great control of their cursed energy, otherwise they’d just get in the way of everything and—ouf, this was too negative.
Who was he to judge? Sure, a part of him was skeptical, but he was trying to awaken the other side that usually reassures him that everything will turn out just fine.
“I wonder if it’s guy or a girl,” Satoru speaks again, and this time (surprisingly) he swallows his food before opening his mouth. Suguru shrugs at his best friend, grabbing a fry from his tray of food.
“It won’t really change much, I just hope they’re good at what they do,”
“Oh Suguruuu,” Gojo whines at his friend’s negativity, pushing him but not too hard. “Don’t be such a kill joy, I’m pretty sure that they’re good. Otherwise, Yaga wouldn’t look so excited.”
“Why are you the one telling me to be nice?” The black haired male raises an eyebrow, carefully picking out a fry that didn’t have ketchup on it.
“You rubbed off on me,” Satoru wiggles his eyebrows to which Suguru rolls his eyes at.
“Don’t.” Suguru presses, but it’s too late to stop his friend’s funny joke.
“That’s a little fruity—“
“Finish your food.”
When they head back to the school grounds after having lunch, they’re pleasantly surprised when they find Yaga, Shoko and an unknown girl standing near one of the school buildings. From the looks of it, you weren’t that nervous. Sure, you were checking out your surroundings as the school was new, but nothing about your demeanor suggested that you were anxious. Not even a little.
Suguru raises his eyebrows at this, and although he tries not to stare too hard at you, Gojo is quick to notice it and nudges him with an elbow.
“Hey, think that’s the new girl?”
“I mean, it looks like it,” Suguru mumbles a response and stops walking when Yaga starts to approach them.
“You finally decided to show up,” Oh, an ass-whooping is on the way.
“The mission took us way too long,” it’s Satoru who tries his luck as his usual, and the grin on his face draws a similar one on Suguru’s lips.
“Yeah, but we managed to get it done with. That’s all what matters,” if it wasn’t for Satoru’s love to piss off their teacher, Suguru is sure that he wouldn’t bother. But it’s fun, and it gives the students something to laugh about.
You watch the scene unfold before you and you raise your eyebrows at how easy going the pair standing in front of you was. Did they not fear Yaga? You had been introduced to the man a couple of weeks ago before you were transferred to the school, and despite the comforting vibe the man had, you still felt like you owed him some sort of respect.
Something the two guys bickering with their teacher seemed to lack. Or maybe it was just an act.
Yaga gives the two guys a comical smack to the back of their heads and you hear Shoko snicker next to you. You fight back a smile of your own, until you feel Shoko pat your back, almost in reassurance.
“You can laugh, they won’t be offended.” You relax at this, and before you could even say anything in response, Yaga is clearing his throat to get your attention.
“You can introduce yourself,” oh, he’s talking to me. You’re suddenly aware of the three pairs of eyes fixated on you, and you fidget nervously.
“Hello, my name is (name) and I’m—“
“That’s boring!” The white haired male cuts you off, and your eye twitches. Well, that’s offensive. Before you could even glare at him, he’s approaching you while taking off his sunglasses and your heart stills at the sight. Those eyes felt like they were staring into your soul.
“Show us your technique, that’s a much more interesting way to introduce yourself,” your body relaxes at this, and you can see Yaga signaling you to go along with what your classmate was saying.
“Oh, okay then,”
Suguru’s eyes are cat-like as they fixate on you. You get in position to show off your technique and suddenly, everything goes quiet. He could feel the energy shift when you stepped away from them, and so he was anticipating a big show. Perhaps, you were a show-off like Gojo.
Suddenly, the air feels a little different—why is it wet? He touches his skin to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, and before he could even process things, fog had engulfed him entirely. This was new.
You were nowhere to be seen, maybe that was your technique—a little weak, Suguru thought. But it felt like you read his mind because right in front of him was standing a carbon copy of himself. A clone.
“What the—“ The clone stands still as Suguru gets into a fighting position, ready to unleash a weak curse at it, but the clone is quick to do the same and releases a different curse—the clone knew about his technique?
Before things could escalate further, he heard a snap of fingers from behind him and his eyes widen when the fog and the clone both disappear at once. You were standing right behind him. Being so focused on the fact that what was standing in front of Suguru was a literal doppelganger, he failed to notice you sneak up behind him. He assumed that you snapping your fingers was to deactivate your technique, but it was also a realization that you made him so unaware of his surroundings—and that was the beauty of your technique.
Everyone looks amused by Suguru’s confused expression. He was staring you right in the eye, and your confidence and the relaxed expression painting your face would normally sned shivers down anyone’s spine. It was awkwardly silent for a few moments before Gojo decides to break the silence.
“That was rather impressive, wasn’t it?” Shoko agrees with her classmate, clapping almost ceremoniously. Yaga steps away from the two to approach you and Suguru who was still staring at you, this time with less resentfulness. Sure, he hated having someone sneak up behind him. And the fact that you had chosen him out of the three felt a little strange, but he tried not to overthink it.
Maybe it’s because I looked like a bitch.
He immediately brushes off the thought when you flash him an unapologetic smile, the confidence you gave off a few moments ago replaced with something he couldn’t quite decipher—were you getting shy?
His lips part almost in shock at the way your cheeks are slightly pink, and you take two steps back and away from him before apologizing out loud.
“Sorry, I just thought you looked a little bored.”
Oh, not anymore.
“That to you, is a Grade 1 sorcerer.” Yaga announces very proudly. Usually, Grade S sorcerers would be the one to be introduced like this—with so much pleasure and honor. But Yaga didn’t care about that. He saw potential in you and embraced it like you were his top student.
Geto couldn’t shake off the giddy feeling in his chest. He watched as Satoru came over to your side and ruffles your hair, promising that you were going to have a good time at school because he was there. And you played along, the playful expression you wore on your face not matching the blush on your cheeks—you were just easily flustered having this much attention on you.
“What do you say, Suguru?” He snaps out of his thoughts at the mention of his name, and he finds his best friend staring at him with those eyes. He caught him looking at you, didn’t he?
“Sorry, I zoned out.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he wasn’t going to say that you seemed so interesting that he found himself so lost in his thoughts. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like how you seemed so unaware of the fact that you were breaking down his walls one by one, and all of this happening in less than an hour of meeting you? Unbelievable.
“I said, we are all gonna get along so well, right?” Glancing at you, he notices how you seem to shift your attention back to him the moment his name is mentioned. You’re almost eager to find out what he has to say next, sparkly eyes and a tight lipped smile making you look so fucking adorable—oh fuck, no.
“Yeah, we will.”
He was officially and totally fucked.
--
It’s been a few months since you officially transferred to Jujutsu high, and things were going great. You felt like you fit in so perfectly, you were a bit nervous that you would be a burden since the trio seemed to have a dynamic of their own, being the one to ruin the dynamic—or worse, feel left out would just be the highlight of your school year. But they were so nice. Each in their own way.
While Gojo felt like a troublesome sibling with his many pranks and jokes, Shoko truly felt like a close friend. You could crack jokes with her, share food and even watch movies during the weekend. The friendship you shared with both seemed very genuine and you were so grateful for that.
And then there was Geto.
Suguru Geto, tall and handsome, with long dark luscious hair and cat-like eyes. A smile that seemed precious since it appeared way less than you would want. A voice that felt like he was purring in your ear and a personality that had your heart stuttering in your chest.
He had caught your eye the moment you saw him walk on the school grounds. You tried not to make your tiny crush on the man obvious right away, but it felt like you blew your cover when you chose him as your target when asked to show off your technique.
Things weren’t exactly bad between you and the tall male, but they weren’t that good either. There an awkwardness that always lingered when you were both left alone, your heart would beat so fast and so incessantly when you felt his eyes on you before he places a piece of his chocolate on your desk.
“Was gonna share it with Satoru, but he pissed me off today.” You’re almost shocked that he’s even addressing you when neither Shoko nor Satoru were in the classroom.
“Are you sure? He does like sweets,” you still grab the sweet treat and place it in your mouth, to which he chuckles at.
“Well, you ate it immediately. Seems like you don’t care.”
“Well, he did piss me off too today,” you’re grinning, playing with the wrap of the chocolate. Suguru raises his eyebrows at your remark and continues to tease you.
“Was it another joke about how bad his clone was? I mean he’s not entirely wrong—“
“Stooop,” you groan out, resting your head on your desk in defeat. You were too embarrassed about the recent incident, and no one seemed to want to let go of it.
Rather than being embarrassed that his clone was that ugly, Gojo’s sudden and quick realization that your clones had an immediate link to your photographic memory lit up a bulb at the top of his head. And so the teasing began.
How come Suguru’s was so accurate on day one!
Do you have something to share with the class?
It was horrible, and you remember how Yaga had to smack the white haired male in the back of his head to get him to stop. He caught onto your little crush on Suguru faster than you had anticipated, but you were glad that when asked what he was teasing you about, Satoru chose to save you the embarrassment and just say that his clone was so ugly, you needed more practice.
“I just need more practice,” you say, a little muffled from having your face in your arm. Suguru stares at you for a few moments from his seat, then he suddenly gets up and walks towards you. He crouches down in front of your desk and you quickly raise your head in question.
“Hm?”
“You don’t hate me, right?” He could’ve asked that question from his desk, he knows that. But it would’ve seemed a little cowardly cause he knows he would avoid looking you in the eyes. But eye contact was important when communicating things, and right now was one of the few moments where Suguru felt like he was going to pee his pants waiting for an answer.
“Hate you?”
“I’m aware that hate is a big word—it’s a strong feeling too, but I just need to know if you feel that way about me.” Suguru was supposed to feel stupid, maybe a little insane for asking you something like this. But he noticed how things always got quiet when it was just you two alone. It didn’t necessarily mean you hated him, but a part of him wanted to make sure you didn’t resent him for mysterious reasons.
“I don’t hate you,” you pause your words, and Suguru watches as your face slightly reddens as you avoid his eyes. “Uh, just nervous.”
Now, why did I say that? It’s one thing to know that he makes you feel this way, but it’s another when you fully admit it to him and watch as he raises both of his eyebrows, almost in shock.
“Nervous?” At first, he’s scared that the word has a bitter taste to it—but it slowly dissipates when he sees the blush on your face darken because why did he have to say it like that.
It sounded like he was saying it for the first time, carefully tasting each letter and syllable. You felt nervous around Suguru.
“You are kind of intimidating,” the small smile painting your lips eases Suguru’s nerves despite having another word describe him. But he’s heard this one before. In fact, he likes it. He likes the way it makes him feel, the ego boost it gives him when he sees people quiver in his presence.
But he didn’t want to have this kind of effect on you. You didn’t need to fear him or avoid his eyes for him to know that he was a powerful sorcerer—he wanted you to feel safe with him. He wanted to rid you of any problem weighing you down, have that smile on your lips for a long time. Whatever Suguru felt for you, he was coming to terms with it and accepting it.
Slowly that is.
“If I’m intimidating, then is Yaga like a monster to you?” Suguru teases you back, and he stands up from his crouching position. He stares down at you with a grin, his sharp eyes making eye contact with your own bright ones. A contrast like this looked so endearing.
“Yes.” You don’t hesitate as you reply, and Geto immediately bursts into laughter at this.
“Wow, you didn’t even hesitate.” Wow, I made him laugh.
“But he is scary! I mean, he’s very nice… but I don’t think I’d wanna piss him off like Gojo does,” you mumble the last part, but Suguru hears you loud and clear.
“Satoru pisses off everyone, so you’re safe.”
Having a conversation like this with Geto felt nice. It wasn’t that often that you two chatted or even had the time to sit down and give each other normal classmate updates. So to be able to talk to him like this, make him laugh until his stomach hurts before walking to your dorms felt new. But you weren’t complaining.  
--
Over the last few months, you’ve gone on a couple of missions with both Suguru and Satoru. They were all successful, and you always got done with them in half of the time.
But today was different. You were going on a mission with Suguru.
Yaga mentioned how you both seemed to work really well together, and while Suguru might’ve been stronger than you, you had so much potential that couldn’t get wasted. Suguru seemed like the perfect fit for a partner and a sort of mentor.
The mission was going to take place in another city, which is why you find yourself on the train with the tall male who was trying to get some sleep.
Sitting across from each other, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the guy. He looked too good from this angle, you could feel your body tingling in embarrassment.
The guy’s just trying to sleep
Over the last few months, no matter how hard you tried to brush your feelings for Suguru, they resurfaced not only a day later when he did something that would make your heart stutter in your chest. You remember him making you food when you were sick, giving you his scarf when you got too cold, suggesting to style your hair for you—how could you not fall for him?
But you were terrified of rejection. You were scared that those feelings could potentially ruin the friendship between you two, and God knows how horrible that would make you feel.
“We’re there,” you were so lost in your thought, that you didn’t feel the train stop. Only Suguru’s hand on your shoulder was able to snap you out of it.
“Oh sorry,” you stand up and make your way out of the train with Suguru following close behind.
“Did you manage to get some sleep?” He asks from behind you, and you slow down your pace to match his footsteps before shaking your head.
“Not really, I wasn’t that tired.”
“Oh but you will be after the mission, that’s always how it is.” He was referring to the many times you and Gojo would end up falling asleep on each other on the way back home, and he would secretly take pictures of the white haired male drooling on your hair to show it to you when you both wake up.
“Thank god he’s not here to drool on my hair,” you say with a hint of annoyance, but it’s harmless.
“Oh, you never know,” the playfulness to his voice makes you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face gives away that you were anything but annoyed.
You arrive to said location after ten minutes of walking. And at first sight, it seemed like any normal abandoned building; a little creepy, no color painting its exterior and most importantly lifeless. But the smell—god, the gut wrenching smell that came from it made you cringe.
“God, it smells horrible.”
“Then we’re at the right place.” Suguru is the first one to walk in, and you follow close after. You take careful steps, eyes darting around the area to scan it for any clues.
“I have a horrible feeling about this,” you mumble to yourself. You knew you were sent to this place to find the source of its gloominess, but the farther you walked down the hallway, the tighter your stomach got.
“It was an orphanage.” Your heart sinks at the revelation, watching the old toys scattered on the floor, filled with dirt and dust. You could only imagine what happened to the kids.
The room is silent for a few moments before both of you and Suguru stand still. Almost on guard.
“Do you feel it?”
“Yeah, I do.” Whatever took over this place was huge. It didn’t necessarily feel like a strong or dangerous curse, but the way it was staring at you from down the hall had you standing in a fighting position.
Before you could even process the fact that you were dealing with that big curse, it charges at you—and fast.
It’s too fast for its size!
Mist engulfs the creature almost immediately, it would only serve as a distraction for a little bit before it would rage even more and decide to charge at you.
“Go hide, I’ll take care of it.” You watch as Suguru calls in two of his powerful curses, both enough to do the job. But you don’t want that.
You don’t want him to do the job on his own, or worse hide while he does everything. It wasn’t why you became a sorcerer, why you chose to even join the school. And so you stood still, grabbing one of the daggers attached to your thigh. You ignore Suguru’s cries telling you to step away from the huge curse.
“You’re gonna get killed if you don’t move!”
“Shut up!” The mist slowly morphs into something else—something Suguru has never seen you done before. It shapes itself into a beautiful scenery, one where flowers are blooming and the sun is shining and—he was hallucinating.
And so was the curse. The technique might’ve not been the most powerful, but it still managed to blind the curse for a few moments. You fill your sharp dagger with cursed energy before slicing it open in one swift motion. It’s messy and sloppy, and blood covers your clothes and the floor like a paint. You stand still and stare in awe at what you’ve just done.
I killed a huge curse on my own!
What you fail to see is the multiple cuts on your body, and how all color leaves your face as exhaustion washes over you. Shit, you were passing out.
The last thing you remember hearing is Suguru calling your name before everything goes silent.
--
Suguru is a mess. That was the only word that could accurately describe the state of the poor guy as he paced back and forth in front of your dorm room. No matter how much Gojo tried to convince him that you were okay, he refused to budge.
He was mad at you. You were so reckless back there, refused to listen to him when he asked you to move—he was filled with all kinds of emotions.
And so when Yaga finally gives him the green light to visit you, the first thing he does is scold you.
You’re sitting up in your bed with bandages wrapped around your body, and you look so tired. But despite all of that, you still manage to flash him a warm smile when he walks inside your room and closes the door behind him.
“Yaga told me I was passed out for two days, I hope I didn’t worry you—“
“What you did was reckless.” Suguru cuts you off, voice sharp and cold that you flinch. Your eyes stare at your lap, avoiding his because he was right. You were reckless, refused to listen to him and powered up your technique faster than your body could handle.
“I know,” you don’t apologize. A part of you wants to, but you were still going to stand your ground if he tried to guilt trip you about the situation.
“And I was very mad,”
“I know.”
It’s silent for a few moments, and Suguru takes in how despite the tears blurring your vision, you refuse to give in and apologize about anything.
“But that’s only because you scared me to death,” he hears you sniffle, and he sees you blink away the tears before staring at him in shock. Suguru takes a few steps towards you, and for a moment you see the hesitation in his action. He quickly brushes it off as he gently rests his hand on your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek.
“You have no idea how terrifying that was.” Your heart starts racing at his words, and his touch left a tingling feeling behind when he pulled away to pat your head.
“I don’t want you to do that again, but I gotta admit,” he ruffles your hair, the scowl on his face morphing into a soft expression.
“That was really cool,” your smile is on your lips almost immediately at his words, and you take your hand and wrap it around his wrist. You pull his hand down and place it again on your face, a bold move that has the both of you slightly blushing.
“You think I’m cool?” your voice sounds sweet when you ask the question, and Suguru thinks he’s never heard you sound like this before but he nods anyway.
“The coolest.”
Neither of you move or say a thing after this, but the prolonged eye contact had the tall male leaning down a bit hesitantly at first, making sure you were okay with it. So when you pull him closer and place your lips on top of his, Suguru is convinced that it was the right thing to do.
The kiss is short and sweet. You pull away after a few seconds and the blush on your cheeks spreads across your entire face when he leans in to give you another kiss. Then another and another.
“Sugu—“
“Shhh, you look cute when you’re flustered.”
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2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.
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Text
realising i have no sense of urgency
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forlix · 7 months
Text
𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.
— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.
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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit
𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡
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y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx
if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom
11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views
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bokkie 🐣 liked your post.
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“My tweet?”
You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.
“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"
A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:
je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀
You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"
je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch
You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."
je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(
An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”
At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.
“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”
Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.
You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.
je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again
“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."
Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”
You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.
“Yeah, you alright?”
“The mouse,” you say helplessly.
“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”
A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”
“I know.”
This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.
Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.
Do you agree? Absolutely.
Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.
Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.
A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.
But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.
There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.
The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.
A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.
“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”
Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.
It’s either your mom, or…
“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.
“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"
“Yes, please.”
He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.
You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.
There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.
That is all he needs to know.
Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.
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je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??
y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.
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𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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greenglowinspooks · 3 months
Text
Thinkin about a DCxDP where Danny’s helping ghosts find peace while he’s laying low in Gotham.
Like, he moved away from Amity for whatever reason. Maybe the reveal went badly, maybe he just couldn’t stand staying any longer. For whatever reason, he’s in Gotham, because the rent is cheap and he’s nowhere near the strangest thing there so no one looks at him twice.
However, this city is cursed. Like, cursed beyond cursed. It’s actively alive with how many curses there are, and the ghosts there are extremely unhappy about it.
(Of course, that’s not a problem for Danny. His ghost side filters out the toxic smog and the chemicals in the water, and his human side gives a resistance to the rank ecto and the hexes that are actively trying to devour him.)
He doesn’t really want to do anything about it, to be honest.
He’s sick of playing hero, considering how it went last time, and he’s busy working at Waffle House or Walmart or whatever other store doesn’t bother doing a background check (in Gotham, that’s probably all of them), and maybe trying to find a way to get highschool credits that don’t immediately disqualify him from every college in existence.
Still, the ghosts know he can hear them. They know, and they keep coming for help.
So, hey, why not? He definitely can’t put this as experience in any sort of job application, but he really doesn’t have much else to do.
So, he becomes errand boy for a bunch of ghosts.
Sometimes he’s finding objects that are important to them, sometimes he’s giving evidence they collected together of their murders to the police, sometimes he’s getting them the last meal they never had, sometimes he’s just spending time with them like they’re not dead.
The ghosts don’t always move on, but they’re always more at peace. Occasionally they pay him back in charms and blessings and the locations of valuables that he can keep or pawn for cash.
Eventually, a new ghost shows up.
She looks like a shadow, like all the ghosts of Gotham, but she seems stronger than usual. She asks him for a favor that those who came before him were never able to fulfill.
She asks him to find her engagement ring, and give it to her son.
Easy enough, he thinks. It’s a bit of a pain to buy the ring from the seedy pawn shop it’s in (he would usually just steal it, but he doesn’t want to implicate her kid in anything, which she seems grateful for), but everything’s going mostly alright.
Then, she tells him who her son is, and wow, no wonder no one’s helped her yet.
He’s Red Hood. The guy who is(/was) the crime lord in charge of crime alley. The title sounds a bit stupid to Danny, but he’s still a genuine threat to a living person.
Good thing he’s not one of those.
And so, the next time he sees Red Hood out and about, he goes right up to him. The man seems mostly unbothered, but Danny does notice how his hand slightly drifts towards one of his many weapons.
He tells Red Hood outright that he’s there on behalf of the man’s mother, then just holds out his hand with the ring inside, dropping it into Red Hood’s open palm.
Then he leaves, not waiting for a response.
Jason has a mystery on his hands, and he might just cash in some favors from Babs and Tim to figure it out.
He’s got to find the guy who gave him his mother’s ring, and find out everything he knows.
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deadsetobsessions · 1 month
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“DIDJA SEE THAT, DANNY?!” Tim, a scrawny eleven year old now, excitedly smacked Danny’s arm.
“Ow. Yes, yes I did.”
“Oh, gosh, I have to tell Jazz about this!!” The kid waved his arms about wildly, grinning from ear to ear.
“Jaso- I mean, Robin, smiled at me! And said he liked my t-shirt!! Oh my god, he likes literature puns, he even laughed! And then he punched the bad guy in the face! Look! I even saved the tooth!”
“Okayyy, nope!” Danny plucked the tooth and tossed it, ignoring Tim’s betrayed face. “I’ll trade you that for this.”
Danny Held out a piece of paper with Robin’s and Batman’s sigil on it, from when he asked them to sign it after they “saved” the two brothers from the two-bit thugs trying to mug them.
“Oh. My. God. This is like the best day of my life!! I love you, Danny! You’re the best brother ever!! Oh my god! I have to get Nightwing’s signature!!!”
Danny felt a rush of warmth at Tim’s proclamation of affection. Ah, he should probably step in.
“Hey, wait, no, we’re not going to Blüdhaven for you to stalk another vigilante.”
“It’s not just any old vigilante-!” Tim ignored Danny’s dramatic clutching-pearls gesture of mock hurt. “It’s Nightwing. The original Robin! He gave me my first ever hug!”
Danny paused. God dammit.
“…Fine.”
“YESSSSSS!!!!”
——
Danny-
“I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”
-is so damn tired.
“Tim. I’m literally a vigilante ghost. What makes you think I’d be stupid enough to argue with a kid who runs around Gotham at night to take pictures of other vigilantes?”
Tim deflated. “Oh. Honestly, I thought you’d put up more of a fight…”
Jazz laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “I definitely couldn’t stop Danny when he went out. He trusted me to support him and I trusted him to come to me if he was injured, though. Can you promise me that, Tim?”
“Yeah… okay, Jazz, I promise.” Tim promised, even if he was still pouty.
Danny chimed in.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally worried and I’m gonna hover like a mother hen when you go out, but again, I know how stubborn and crazy we vigilante types have to be.” Danny paused. “Do you want me to put up a token protest?”
Tim nodded, sulking. “Yes, please. I had a speech planned out.”
Jazz and Danny exchanged amused glances.
“Oh, okay, my bad, kiddo. Here, let’s start from the top.”
“Okay. Ahem,” Tim straightened his back, settling into his previous mulish expression once more. “I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”
Danny placed an appropriately disapproving frown on his face. “No, you can’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt! You’re just a child!”
Tim launched into his speech. “But I can’t stay still and do nothing when people are getting hurt! Even…!”
They were gonna be here for a while. There was definitely something about Batman going on a spiral because Jason wouldn’t be able to walk again after the Joker got to him. Danny wondered if ectoplasm could help. He might offer, if it actually had a change of getting Tim out of the vigilante business.
But that’s for later, because they had time. Jazz was on Spring Break… and they’re still staying here for free, after all of these years.
“So, how are you going to convince Robin to let you be Robin?” Jazz asked Tim.
Tim froze. “I… hadn’t thought of that yet.”
“Well, you could always remind him of the fact that we saved him from the Joker. He seemed pretty ready to leave the Robin mantle, the last time I saw him as Phantom.”
“I don’t want to blackmail him into it!” Tim whined.
“It’ll just be a suggestion, Tim.” Jazz smiled patiently.
“Besides,” Danny continued, smirking mischievously at his adopted little brother. “If you were actually blackmailing him, you’d pull out the photos where he ate dirt.”
“I guess that’s true…” Tim mumbled. “I know! I’ll have to follow them to see how I can best approach him!”
"I think that's called stalking," Jazz deadpanned.
"Well, it's not any worse than what he's already done." Danny shrugged at his older sister. "Sure, kid. Why not? Do whatever you want."
"I was planning to!" Tim bounced off to grab his photography gear. Jazz stared off after him.
"Should we be encouraging that?"
"More like can we actually stop him?" Danny leaned back, lazily completing his GED assignments. Jazz sighed.
"Guess not. Make sure he doesn't get in trouble."
"Do you even know how hard that is, Jazz?" Danny complained, dodging the whack Jazz sent at the back of his head. She smirked at him.
"Womp, womp, Danny. How does karma taste today?"
Danny flipped her off as he put the last punctuation on the paper. He heard a clatter and groaned.
“I’m gonna go watch Tim stalk Batman for the night. Want anything from the store?”
Jazz hummed. “Get me the specialty strawberry ice cream, from that one place?”
“The one that’s definitely a front for Falcone’s money laundering??”
“Yeah. They make good strawberry ice cream.”
“Sure.”
Danny went ghost and flew straight through the walls to catch Tim sneaking out by the scruff of his collar.
“No. Bad Tim.”
“Awww, come on Danny!”
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It's a Match! || 141 x Reader
[Chapter 16] || [Chapter 18]
Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost x Soap || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.7K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we're getting there.
Gaz's outfit is 100% a rip off of this fanart by the lovely @temeyes.
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Chapter 17: Guard Dogs
You don’t exactly know what you did to deserve this.
You really don’t.
You went on Tinder one time. One night after work.
So why the fuck do you have three men lurking around you like guard dogs?
Ever since the Ethan incident last Friday, they’ve been taking turns going to pick you up at work and walking you home.
Monday - Kyle
Tuesday - Simon
Wednesday - Kyle
Thursday - Simon
It wouldn’t be so bizarre if it weren’t for the fact that people (especially your coworkers) stare when there’s suddenly men waiting for you after work… 
Especially when one of them is a 6ft4 man that’s built like a fridge, giving everyone copious amounts of side-eye as they walk out.
And then you wonder why they ask you get asked questions the next morning.
Today, Friday, you exit work to see not one, not two, but all three of them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. They look frankly adorable, all beaming at you as you come out of work and preening themselves a bit.
Kyle’s on the far left, wearing a cream-colored hoodie with a blue flannel shirt atop, black cargo pants and white and black Air Jordans. The hoodie is pulled up over his hair and his hands are tucked into the pocket of his hoodie.
Simon’s next to him, in the center, wearing black boots, jeans and a black parka with an inner pollar layer that’s zipped up all the way, so as to cover his mouth, in lieu of his usual mask. His hair is sticking up all over and you just know he put hairgel on it. 
Johnny’s on Simon’s other side, the far right, and wearing a pair of distressed blue jeans, a shaggy burgundy Ramones t-shirt and an unzipped grey hoodie jacket. Just like Kyle, he’s also wearing some Nikes and they’re so pristine and clean you’d swear he’s gotten them from the box a minute ago.
“Hi…?” You said in surprise as you adjusted the sling of your laptop bag on your shoulder.
“Hey!” Johnny greeted you.
“Hi, lovie.” Kyle said with a beaming smile.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Simon said simply and nodded upwards at you.
“What are you… doing?” You trailed off as you came to stand in front of them, your eyes going back and forth between them.
“Couldn’t decide who should come get you. So we decided to both come” Simon told you sincerely. “And since the two of us were coming, Johnny wanted to tag along.” He added.
“Why are ye talking like I’m a puppy that couldn’t be left at home by myself?” Johnny said with raised brows.
“Because you were begging for us to take you with.” Kyle retorted from Simon’s other side.
“Go fuck yourselves.” Johnny added. “You look nice.” He complimented you with a boyish grin.
“In my work uniform?” You retorted as you looked at him with a playful look of disbelief.
“Aye.” He replied. “Always love seein’ someone all knackered and sweaty after work.” He admitted.
“Johnny are you flirting?” Simon asked and he gave Johnny a look that could kill someone.
“Aye.” Johnny replied with a mischievous look in his eyes and pursed his lips together. “Is that forbidden now?”
“Mate…” Kyle quipped, his tone a soft warning.
“What? They already got two blokes after them, can have another one.” Johnny remarked with the same casualty of someone saying they ‘might as well have another biscuit from the box’.
You blinked away the surprise at the flirting. It was still bizarre to have one man like Simon interested… And you felt overwhelmed to have Kyle on top of it… And now Johnny too?
“Okay, erm… So… let’s go?” You announced and turned to start marching up the street to work before anyone could say anything else.
The guys followed behind you wordlessly, in a formation lead by Simon… like you were a mother duck and they were your ducklings… Or, rather, like they were your pack of guar dogs.
-
You’re standing by the door of your kitchen feeling like a guest in your own flat. 
Kyle and Simon are cooking… without even being asked. You stopped by the shop and they immediately announced they’d cook for you and… now they are.
Johnny’s sitting at the dining table behind you, sprawled open and sipping a can of Monster he got himself at the shop when you were all there.
“Okay, what’s up with you?” You announced as you watched the two men move about your kitchen as they made your meal. Simon’s was first in charge of chopping and dicing things… and now he’s in charge of frying… something, while Kyle takes care of basically everything else.
“What do you mean, lovie?” Kyle asks as he turns to glance at you while stirring something.
“You all came to pick me up together… And now you’re cooking for me…” You trail off as your nails clink a bit against the glass of wine they poured you. “What’s going on?”
“You’re adorably annoying with how perceptive you are, you know that?” Simon asks as he glances back at you as well before plucking something out of the frying pan and to a dish on the side. The oil sizzles loudly when he puts something else down to fry.
“Thank you.” You say with a playfully smug tone as you shift around. “But you didn’t answer the question.” You remark.
“After dinner, alright?” He answers and Kyle makes some sounds of agreement.
“They want to be yer boyfriends, officially.” Johnny says behind you and it causes you to whip around to look at him… Which also made Kyle drop whatever he was holding, in shock.
“SOAP!” Both Simon and Kyle shout, scolding the Scot who’s sitting at the table with a broad grin on his lips.
“You… You do?” You ask as you turn to look at them, mouth parted in surprise.
“Yeah...” Kyle replies as he looks at you. 
Simon simply nods and turns away to focus on the food he’s frying.
“I… I’m honored…” You admit and feel your cheeks warming up so bright you fear you’ll start sweating. “I…”
“I’d like a shot at it too, if ye don’t mind.” Johnny adds. Once again, all eyes turn to Johnny with another ‘JOHNNY?!’ which causes him to laugh.
“I’m serious.” He replies. “I’ll gladly date ye too.” He adds.
Your eyes widen. “You-”
“Mhm.” He adds.
“No.” Simon replies as he turns around once more.
“What do you mean ‘no’, L.T.?” Johnny asks in exaggerated offense.
“I mean, I don’t wanna date you.” Simon adds.
“I- Wait.” Now it’s Johnny’s time to get flustered. “Date me?” Poor lad, his whole face warms up bright red.
“Y-Yeah… Kyle and Simon kiss each other sometimes.” You announce and out of the corner of your eye you catch both of the other men stiffening up.
“I KNEW IT. I FOOKIN’ KNEW IT!” Johnny jumps up to his feet, spilling his Monster can on the table. “Ah, shite!” He says as he scrambles to pick it up again before it spills too much.
“What do you mean you knew it?!” Simon asks in shock.
“I KEN YE LIKE EACH OTHER! SAW THE WAY YOU SHARE THOSE COY LOOKS BETWEEN YE!!” Johnny shouts as he points a finger at the two men.
You’re pretty sure they’re all blushing now, you included.
“We didn’t share any looks!” Simon says defensively.
“DID TOO!” Johnny insists. “AND I TAKE OFFENSE TO YE NOT WANTING TO DATE ME, L.T.!” He adds. “I THOUGHT YE LIKED ME!”
Your eyes widen and you move your head side to side trying to keep up with the banter between them as Johnny marches his way into the kitchen so him and Simon can keep bickering.
“Are they always like this?” You find yourself asking Kyle, your eyes widened as they shout your house down.
“Yeah… This is a tame day for them actually. Should hear how they are on comms during missions.” He leans over to whisper in your ear.
“Ah…” You say softly. “I don’t know if I can handle dating this all the time.” You quip playfully, making Kyle laugh.
“You’ll get used to it.” He adds.
As you two continue watching the two men arguing, during which Simon is still, somehow, still tending to the food… You find yourself sneaking little pieces of carrot from the salad Kyle’s making.
Only to stop chewing halfway and let your piece of carrot fall right out of your hands when Johnny suddenly grabs Simon by his face and plants a big kiss right on the taller man’s lips. No warning.
At that moment, Simon looks every bit like Kyle did when they kissed for the first time. Perfectly statue-like still, eyes widened, both hands hanging in the air as if he was frozen…
Johnny’s hands are wrapped around Simon’s face, his palms over his ears, and fingers in his blonde hair, their mouths pressed together…
And then Simon comes back from the trance he’s in and his hands wrap around Johnny’s head too, his fingers digging into the back of his mohawk as their tongues battle together.
“Jesus Christ…” Kyle replies next to you, voicing your exact thoughts.
Once they pull apart, both the men are blushing red and out of breath, eyes widened.
“Ye’ll date me now?” Johnny replies.
Simon doesn’t reply, he simply turns around to finish cooking.
“I think that’s a yes.” You finally announce, finding your voice softly.
Johnny turns to look at you and smirks. “From him or from you?” He asks with a cocked brow.
“Both.” Simon quips with his back turned.
“I think that was the hottest kiss I ever witnessed.” Kyle says softly.
“I’ll give ye a smooch too, don’t get jealous, Gary.” Johnny quips and winks at Kyle.
Then, the Scot grabs a paper towel from the roll and walks toward the door to go mop up the spilled Monster from the table.
But not before he cups Kyle’s face and stealing a peck off his lips…
Then, he does the same to you… before licking his lips at the end. 
“Your wine’s tasty.” He adds, before slinking back out of the room.
You’re left blinking away the shock with an equally stunned Kyle next to you… And you’re pretty sure Simon’s stunned too…
Meanwhile, Johnny’s giggling to himself in the living room.
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
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mockerycrow · 11 months
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Hey Crow! I got a stupid, silly lil idea for a request. Fem!Reader X 141+Los Vaqueros please. Basically the reader is just out of the shower, with a fresh shave and lotion and goes up to her cod man and does the “feel how smooth my legs are” thing
Freshly Shaved Legs (Task Force 141 + Los Vaqueros x Fem!Reader)
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masterlist
I’m having a 400 follower celebration!!
-> You never got the proper opportunity to shave your legs on base, really. It’s not a necessity and you rarely have down-time, so you’ve forgotten about shaving. You manage to get your hands on one of the disposable razors your superiors supply for those who grow facial hair. You couldn’t find any shaving cream, so you opted for your cheap, military-issued conditioner instead. After getting back from a grueling, 3 month long mission, the first thing you did was take that shaving razor and lock yourself in a private washroom, taking your sweet time to rid yourself of all of that leg hair. You apply a motion to sooth any irritated skin, too. The first you do after getting dressed into a pair of shorts a tan t-shirt is run up to them and prop your leg up with a grin and saying, “Feel my leg.”
Alejandro Vargas
Honestly, Alejandro is the type to shave your legs for you after such hard work, so he admires his work by rubbing your legs.
He hums in satisfaction as his fingers trace your skin, looking for any nicks. He’s perfected shaving because of his beard and he grins when he finds no marks on you.
“I did well, yes?” Alejandro murmurs, looking to you for joking approval.
Alejandro laughs when you tell him the story of how you got a shaving razor, and while you do, he’s applying the after shave lotion to your legs.
Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra
He’s definitely confused at first, looking at your leg and then back at your face multiple times.
“Why?”
You simply say, “I shaved.” You grab his hand and put it on your leg. Rudy’s hesitant, but he rubs your skin and he makes a noise of surprise. “No kidding..”
Rudy smiles softly when you seem so proud of yourself. “Good job, Hermosa.”
Rudy is too occupied with how smooth your skin is to question where you got the razor, since they’re only really handed out to the people who grow beards.
John Price
He immediately raises an eyebrow and silently questions you, no doubt. His arms are crossed, a gruff “what?” leaving him.
You reiterate what you said a few seconds earlier and move your bare leg closer. Price sighs to himself as he realizes you will only leave him alone if he does as you say; so he does.
Price uncrosses his arms and his hand gently touches your soft skin at your shin and he slowly moves up, his eyebrows raising, making a sound as if he’s impressed but you can tell he’s joking. “Smooth.” He comments.
You laugh and swat at him as he states the obvious. He looks at you, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes crinkling from the amusement he’s feeling. “Love to know your first thought when coming home was to shave your legs, love. Not to sleep, or eat..”
You can tell he’s joking and he finds it very funny.
John “Soap” MacTavish
He grins from your joy of this situation and immediately complies, feeling how soft your skin is. “Soft as a baby’s arse!” He chuckles, his thumb brushing against your shin.
“And you didn’t nick yerself, not at’all!” Soap notices, glancing at you. He laughs as you take that in stride, crossing his arms.
Soap silently wonders if he could do the same—shave his body hair, but then he gets rid of the idea because he enjoys his hair.
He’s certainly surprised you managed to get your hands on a shaving razor, but at the same time he isn’t because you’re you.
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
He laughs at first, especially with your presentation. He’s sitting on a couch in Price’s office, waiting for the Captain to come back with paperwork. You got your leg propped up on an armrest right next to where he’s sitting.
“Feel your leg?” He questions, glancing up at you while leaning his head on his fist. This isn’t the weirdest thing you’ve asked of him, so he shrugs.
Gaz feels your leg, feeling how soft and smooth your skin has gotten. “I see you’re putting that razor I got you to good use, huh?”
You snort and swat his shoulder, murmuring a thank you. He hums, removing his hand from your leg.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
“What?”
Several seconds of silence before he questions you. You repeat yourself and Ghost stares at you blankly. You bite your lip and you’re about to apologize and walk away when he removes his glove, and you’ve never felt more glory in your life. He grumbles, “Why not?”
Not defending your teammates, not defending whole ass countries, but the moment when Ghost removes his glove and touches your leg reluctantly to feel how smooth your skin is, is when you feel most prideful.
He doesn’t say anything at first as you basically stand incredibly still like a deer in headlights. He removes his hand slides the glove back on, gruffing out, “Good job.”
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girlboypersonthingy · 1 month
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Hi yes i saw hazbin requests were open??? Anything involving pining Lucifer. Or lucifer seeing reader dressed super nice for like a fancy party or something (full makeup, fancy revealing dress, that sorta thing) for the first time. Maybe feelings are revealed? I’m a sucker for pining
I love that we are all so disgustingly thirsty for this man. He deserves it ❤️‍🔥 but seriously tho…all my Lucifer posts have gotten at least 100 likes in the first day that they’re posted. Like damn yall, we need to talk about our husband more! We all have such good taste 😌 I love our little short king. Thanks for the request. Enjoyyyyyyy~
Notes: fem!reader, reader wears a dress in this one
TW: suggestive themes, hardcore pining, heavy making out
🪽The King of Pining🪽
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This morning, Charlie invited everyone to the lobby of the hotel, shouting out that she had great news and a wonderful idea. Husk and Angel grumble about their annoyance with it being too early in the morning and them being way too sober for group activities right now as they plop down on one of the couches. The rest of the group files in, finding spots to relax as Charlie bounces up and down in her spot, bitting her lip and clenching her fists out of pure excitement. You follow along, deciding to stay standing and a bit behind the group, glancing back to see Lucifer coming to join the pack, standing just behind the couch that sat Vaggie and Nifty. You stare at him for a moment and when he finally glances your way, you offer him a sleepy smile and a quick wave of your hand. A small smirk finds its way to his lips as he nods his head at you, quickly looking away after.
“So…what’s the news?” Vaggie finally speaks up once everyone is settled and all eyes are on Charlie standing front and center. “Sooooooo, I had a brilliant idea that will be equally fun and beneficial to the hotel. Ready? Ready for it?” Charlie looks around the group, looking as if she might burst into flames of enthusiasm any moment now. “WE ARE GONNA HOST A BALL!!!”
Angel smirks as he nudges Husk beside him. “Heh, balls.” “She said ‘ball’, jackass. Singular.” Husk spits back, rolling his eyes as he scoots away from Angel a bit.
“It’ll attract new recruits for the hotel! We can mingle, talk about all we have to offer. AH! It’s gonna be soooooo funnnnnn.” Charlie is yelling now, she can’t control herself in the slightest.
Charlie goes into explaining the details- it is to be a huge party with a formal dress code that everyone and anyone is invited to. It’ll be here at the hotel, with an open bar (Husk wants to die) and music! The group lets out noises of mixed emotions, Nifty and Angel shouting out of excitement and anticipation while Husk and Alastor both let out noises of dread. You, on the other hand are nervous but looking forward to having a fun night and getting to know the hotel staff and residents better. As Charlie’s speech ends, the group begins to disperse and talk amongst themselves.
You watch as Charlie approaches Vaggie, shyly dropping to her knees in front of her on the couch so that they are eye level with each other. “Will you…be my date to the ball, Vags?” You can’t help but smile as you watch Vaggie laugh, her cheeks and nose slowly changing color. “Of course, you goofball. You’re my partner. There’s no one else I’d rather go with.” They share a long hug, a beautiful positive energy radiating off of them.
“They’re just adorable, aren’t they?” The low, charming voice that sounds right next to you causes you to flinch a bit, now turning to see the king of hell himself standing beside you. “Oh! Hey. Yeah. They are pretty cute. They make a great couple.” You look back to the two girls holding hands and giggling but Lucifer keeps his eyes on you, taking this opportunity while you’re distracted to examine all the little details of your face up close. Hopefully no one else catches sight of him in this moment of utter hopeless romanticism.
When he finally snaps out of it, he lets out a sigh before putting on his best smile, clearing his throat just to get your attention again. “Speaking of great couples~” And as soon as your eyes land on him again, your lips curved up ever so slightly, his courage quickly leaves him. Lucifer freezes for a moment, mouth going dry as he tried to find a way out of this. Say something you idiot.
“I-I ha! I uh…I wonder what other great couples we’ll see at this party. Maybe some of hell’s highest royalty?” Nervous chuckles just keep rolling from his lips and he’s really hoping you don’t notice the way his hands are shaking as they rest on his cane. One of his trembling hands comes to the collar of his shirt, lightly yanking it down as if that would help bring air back to his lungs, the air you’ve sucked out of him with one simple glance.
“Hm. Yeah. Maybe.” You reply plainly, looking back to Vaggie and Charlie and before you can converse with Lucifer any further, he’s walking off with his tail between his legs, eyes wild and full of doubt. “You’ll be there. You are the king of hell after all, I’m sure everyone will be too focused on you and Charlie to notice any other royals. Are you uhm…planning on going with anyone?” You ask, still watching the two girls near the couch. Your voice stops Lucifer in his tracks, making him pause for a moment as he listens. He turns slowly back to you, wearing a bashful smile as he tucks both his arms behind his back.
“No, actually. I hadn’t even thought of it.” He lies, watching as you finally pull your gaze from his daughter and relax it on him. He slowly saunters back your way, unable to control his wandering eyes. “And what about you? Do you have anyone in mind that you’d want to go with?” And now his nervousness is rubbing off on you, making your voice shake as you respond. “Me? No, no…I’ll probably just tag along with uh…”
As you look around the room, it seems all couples have already paired up. Vaggie and Charlie sat on the couch still, Charlie’s legs strewn over her girlfriend’s lap. Angel and Husk seemed to be having a bit of an argument over what they will wear together. Angel wants to wear all pink but Husk is like FUCK NO. Even Sir Pentious was trembling in front of Cherri, as he looked to he asking her out. Obviously, Alastor is bringing his shadow along. That’s kind of a date…right?
“Uhm I mean, who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone there.” The pride that inflated Lucifer’s chest just seconds ago seems to suddenly be punctured and drained by your lack of acknowledgment to his flirty hints. He wants to ask you to be his so badly it’s making his chest hurt now. Not his for the night, not his during the party, his all the time, any time he needs you. As he opens his mouth to speak, he hesitates and then decides to let out a heavy sigh instead. “Well..I will see you there.” And with the tip of his head, he finally turned and left you standing alone in a herd of conversing couples.
~night of the party~
You figured there’s no harm in showing up fashionably late tonight. At least, that was your excuse for showing up late. In reality, you were fully ready before the ball even started but your legs were so weak and shaky, you couldn’t find the strength to get yourself out there. So instead, you’re sitting in your room, fully clad in your nicest dress along with some accessories, sunken into your plush bed as you try to steady your breathing. Maybe if I stay here long enough in this dress, I can just say I was there but not actually go…
A knock on your door has you straightening up in your spot, a warm surprised feeling lighting up your chest. “Come in.” You respond, wondering just who was coming to see you right now. You assumed it was Angel trying to get you to come out and start partying with him. To your surprise, the princess of hell pops her cheerful little face inside your room.
“(Y/N)! I was wondering when you’d be coming…out…there. Oh my gosh! You look so gorgeous EEEEE!” Charlie steps into your room now, her big yellow eyes shining with enthusiasm and hope as she fangirls over your getup. “Oh, thank you. You look stunning yourself.” Charlie watches your eyes fluttering all around the room, unable to focus. “Yeah…I’m coming. Just…feeling anxious I guess.” Taking a deep breath, you finally stand, straightening out your dress and checking your hair in a mirror quickly. “Oh stop it! You look flawless, (Y/N). Let’s go have some fun.” Charlie quickly links arms with you and drags you out to the lobby full of people, lights and music.
Within just a few minutes of joining the party, you find yourself looking around a sea of strangers all on your own. Seems the princess of hell has a line of guests wanting to meet and greet with her. Understandable, but you’re starting to get overwhelmed. You’re desperately looking for a familiar face, needing a buddy to help you feel included and secure. As you swim through sinners and other residents of hell, head turning side to side, you finally spot Lucifer after nearly an hour of wandering around alone.
Sure, His typical white suit is nice, very flattering on him. But, oh boy, did he look fantastic tonight, heavenly even. For this special occasion, Lucifer was dressed in a deep red suit with accents of white and no hat, instead sporting his pretty, slicked back blonde hair. You’re not quick to rush to him, I mean are you trying to look desperate and pathetic? No, just stay calm. But once again, you two share a glance from afar and give each other a small wave of the hand. Lucifer looks…pained. He looks like he might just collapse to his knees and start vomiting. His shift in body language causes your smile to drop, your expression shifting to one of concern as you mouth to him ‘you okay?’.
From Lucifer’s point of view, the room became silent, empty, dimly lit with you there at the center of it all under this glowing golden ray of light. You looked angelic, innocent and sweet, elegant but also nervous and out of place and adorable and fuck it, he can’t wait. He nearly pushes the sinner trying to talk to him aside, rushing to you as his brain became overloaded with ideas of what to say to you.
With each and every stride he takes, your cheeks flush deeper shades of red. With every step, his knees begin to feel more and more like jelly. Finally, he’s joined you in the spotlight, the rest of the party fading away before both of your eyes as you stand just inches apart. Now, it’s all wandering eyes and heavy breathing from both of you. Licking your lips first, you force words out to break this awful silence.
“Wow! Y-you clean up well. You look nice, Luci.” As your voice reaches his ears, his dream-like state abruptly ended. The room floods with loud music, chatty people and bright lights again. He seems to perk up at your compliments, feeling like a dog in heat as his eyes travel up and down your lovely outfit. You watch as his eyes finally leave your waist and come up to meet your own gaze.
“Holy hell. You look absolutely divine.” He scoffs quietly, wondering how an angel like you ended up down here. “Oh, Lucifer.” You swat a hand at him and you can feel your face burning up, sweat starting to form on your upper lip and forehead. “Stop it. You flatter me.”
Lucifer looked as if he might pass out, becoming more and more flustered the more you blush. Although, a pleased smirk graces his face because oh~ you like when he flirts with you, huh? It’s okay, he’s hella into you too.Together, you’re just a ticking time bomb of gushy feelings and sexual tension. He figures if he wants to have any chance of confessing his feelings to you tonight, his best option is to lead you out of the way and put a little distance between you two and the crowd. So, he reaches out and gently takes your hand, pulling you along to the now vacant bar with an extremely forced and up tight grin.
Husk is standing behind the counter, looking not as irritated as you’d thought he would tonight. Luci pulls out a stool for you, gesturing for you to sit before he does because he’s a gentleman and ladies always go first. “Hey. Whatcha want, doll?” Husk ask you first, giving you a wink after you answer. “And for you, sir?” He eyes Lucifer who shakes his head, politely refusing his offer. As Husk begins whipping up your drink, yet another tense silence falls between you two.
“Are you having a good time?” The blonde finally speaks up, side eyeing you. “Eh. I’m not a big party person. I’m not a fan of big crowds either so…not really.” At long last, your unhappy and disappointed attitude brings all of Lucifer’s courage and gall to his mouth. Now’s his chance. “Let’s get out of here then.” He blurts out as Husk slides your drink to you, the bartender giving you an awkward look. “What? But all these folks wanna meet you.” Once you look over to him, a devious smile makes its way to Lucifer’s thin lips as you take your first drink. “And? I’m the king of hell! I do as I please.” He teases and now you’re both smiling brightly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you push his arm playfully. “I love Charlie but I hate this party. Let me finish my drink first, yeah?”
Lucifer continues to side eye you and also scan over the entire room, checking out the scene as you sip on your drink. You can see his casual glances and the way he quickly diverts his attention as soon as you catch him staring. Now you’re the one feeling some bravery. You quickly and smoothly slip your hand into his, letting your thumb rub back and forth across his knuckles as you try to quickly suck down the rest of your drink.
The grip you have on each other grows stronger, tighter with each second that passes. You notice Lucifer bouncing his leg now, growing impatient and needy. As soon as a slurping noise comes from the straw at the bottom of your glass, Lucifer is trying to pull you up off your seat. He’s not worried about hiding his eagerness from you at this point, not when you’re looking like you do now and getting so blushy and shy at his flirtatious comments. He has to shoot his shot, he has to try. You’re the only person who’s made him feel young and love sick again after Lilith, he can’t afford to let you slip away too. That would crush him more than the weight of the embarrassment and discomfort he is feeling right now.
Lucifer leads you to the library, doubting anyone would be occupying it at the moment and he is correct. Finally, alone together, his hand in yours still, fingers interlocked. His big eyes, full of worry and second thoughts stare deep into yours as he gives himself a moment.
“Oh, my. Where do I even begin?” His other hand comes to yours, holding them both oh so delicately. “You…I’m so….” You nod, smiling to give him some encouragement to continue. “I want you so bad. I want to hold you, I just want to touch you already. I need to kiss you. (Y/N), I love you-“
You’re not sure what came over you but now your hands are exploring his blonde locks, your lips moving feverishly against his. Besides the faint, far away music playing, all you two could hear was each other’s soft gasps and the smacking of wet lips. At first, Lucifer was very engaged in the kiss but he was hesitant to touch you, unsure of where to put his hands. Like hell he wants to rest his claws on your hips or your butt, but he waits for you to give him the okay, his hands balled into fists and held up near his shoulders.
Finally letting him have his way, you guide his hands to your torso before breaking the kiss to whisper, “It’s okay, Luci. You can touch me.” It’s more of a whimper than a whisper but Lucifer isn’t complaining in the slightest. The tone of your voice and the feeling of finally touching your perfectly soft body had his eyes glowing bright red now.
Quickly and without warning, he crashes his lips back into yours sloppily, his long forked tongue gently gliding across your lip, giving the slightest bit of attention to your teeth. He would devour every bit of you right now if you only asked. He wished you would ask right now. He’d even beg for it…You happily let your mouth open more, inviting him in as his arms slowly stretch their way around you until he’s holding you tightly against him. Lucifer squeezes you tightly as he savors your taste for a moment, pulling a soft whine from you before loosening up.
With your eyes closed, you tried to just follow his lead and do your best at impressing and arousing him but he’s sort of doing the same. He hasn’t been with anyone like this in so long, he’s rusty as hell. So, yall are an absolute mess. After about a minute of wild making out and rapidly moving hands, you’ve found yourselves on the floor. The two of you sit up on your knees, holding onto each other as if your lives depend on it. Your hands held his cheeks so tenderly, pulling his face as close to your own as you possibly could.
Lucifer couldn’t help but smile against your mouth, a soft laugh leaving him as he remembers all those nights he dreamt of this exact situation- you looking beautiful and magnificent as always and him having the freedom to let his hands roam your darling figure. He’s been craving you, dreaming of you, wishing for you, praying for you. The laugh that escapes him results in you pulling back to get a look at him. And fuck was he gorgeous- hair a disheveled mess, the purple shadow on his eyelids smudged ever so slightly, his once impressive suit now wrinkled and shifted awkwardly on him, his lips still shiny from your saliva, his breathing loud and heavy and his smile just kept getting bigger, toothier.
“What are you laughing at?” Lucifer rests his forehead against yours, his eyes moving across your breathless, flushed face, just dying to know what’s on your mind now. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages, darling. More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire existence, I’ve wanted to be alone with you like this.” A breathy giggle leaves you, your hands shaking as they travel down from his face to his biceps.
“Oh really? Why don’t you stop telling me and…keep showing me?” You tease, your hands coming to rest on his puffed out chest. Your touch combined with your sweet flirting and breathy voice has all of his wings popping out momentarily. You can’t help but laugh at this, but Lucifer is all business right now. You told him to show you, and oh darling, he’s gonna teach you a whole lesson on how beautiful and ethereal you are to him…and he’s gonna teach you with only his hands and his mouth.
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
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Danny Punches a Clown part 2 I guess
shoutout to @that-random-fangirl
Masterpost
The batmobile pulls into the batcave as usual once they’re done dealing with the Joker’s hostage situation, but no one is celebrating at a job well done tonight. Because while the Joker is back in Arkham, for now, it wasn’t one of them that stopped him. While the rest of them dealt with the goons downstairs, Batman went up to where the Joker was supposed to be hiding out with the kids, only to find him on the floor with a growing bruise on his face. The kids were nowhere to be seen. 
So, Batman sweeped the room, making note of a video that was still recording on the computer. Probably a taunt for him that the Joker never got to release. He pulled all the files from the computer and brought them with him when he left. 
The police arrived, the civilians were taken care of, but none of them had any idea what happened in the room the Joker was in. Apparently none of them heard anything, despite the fact the Joker had a gun with him no shots were fired. And none of them knew what happened to the kids. 
So the family gathered around the batcomputer to try and find out what had happened. They rewound the video back to the beginning, hoping to at least find out if the kids were okay.
The video opened to the Joker being his usual self, holding his gun, looking like he hadn’t yet gotten punched in the face.
“ Bats! Wonderful to see me isn’t it? I know it's been too long, and I’ve got some presents for you!” Joker turns the camera to show three kids, two no older than six, both blonde and terrified, and one that could be a teenager, probably around twelve to thirteen with black hair and looking bored. The camera swings back to the Joker after a moment. “ Of course, I have a bunch of adults too, but these little kiddos are just for you! I have such plans for them bats!” 
“Hey, crazy clown?” They hear, coming from one of the children. Joker stops ranting to look past the computer, probably at the kid who’s speaking and the bats all look at each other in disbelief.“ Look, I’m sure you have some sort of reason for all this hostage-taking and gun-waving, probably even for dressing like that.” 
“ Oh, this kid is insane.” Tim mutters.
“ However, I already have one fruitloop in my life and that is more than enough for me, so I’m going to have to leave now.”
The Joker starts laughing, he bends over and wraps his arms around his stomach laughing his normal cackle that has most of the room cringing. They watch as the child, the older one, walks right up to the Joker, who is still laughing, and punches him in the face.
They watch in silence as the Joker falls limp to the floor. Jason whistles. Then the boy turns more toward the camera, but really towards the children as he starts talking to them and they see him fully for the first time. Black hair, blue eyes, looks exhausted and he just punched the Joker in the face. The kids look amongst each other for a moment, all thinking the same thing, before turning back to the screen to see the boy, this tiny boy who called the Joker ‘crazy clown’ and punched him in the face helping the other kids escape out the window. 
“ Bruce, no.” Dick mutters. “ We don’t even know who this kid is.”
“ This kid just knocked out the Joker in one punch, if Bruce doesn’t nab him, I will.” Jason states.
Everything devolves into arguing from there, all the kids shouting amongst themselves arguing either for or against the adoption of the kid. It goes on for a while before Bruce speaks up.
“ Let’s just find the kid first.” Bruce says, He’s already pulled up facial recognition and is chatting with Oracle about the CCTV footage by the warehouse. “ All of you go get some rest, I’m going to go see if I can track him.”
“ Hey! If you’re going back out, we’re going back out!” Dick complains. “ We’re concerned about the kid too.” 
Bruce starts to argue with him, but is cut off by the sound of motorcycles as Jason and Tim start to head back out, already talking to Oracle about where to start. Dick heads out after them and Damian goes to sit in the batmobile, waiting. Bruce heaves a sigh before climbing in after him.
“ Okay, Oracle what do we have?” Batman asks.
“ I was able to track him into an alley, but nothing after that.”
Now with part 3!
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