#like i can't help being a little impressed

[joelscruff]

forget my charms (dave york x f!reader) 18+

a/n finally watched equalizer 2 and he's been living in my mind rent free! i don't really know what this is tbh, it was kind of a challenge to myself to try and write a drabble because i'm notoriously bad at keeping fics short & sweet. so i'm not sure how i feel about the lack of real story here but we go anyway! enjoy & please be sure to read the warnings! summary: your new boss gives you a memorable first day. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fingering, lap sitting, power imbalance, infidelity, unprotected p in v (doggy), creampie, finger sucking, dirty talk, praise kink, tie used as a gag word count: 1.5k

You only met him this morning. It had been brief, his office just one stop of many on your guided tour the first day of your new job. Your co-worker had tapped lightly on his door, opened it a crack and told him he should come meet the new hire. Your stomach had turned when you'd heard him sigh deeply on the other side - you were already feeling out of place, more than a little like a fish out of water, and the concept of disrupting the boss on the first day wasn't appealing in the slightest.

But he'd been gracious. He'd come to the door and opened it wider, stood beneath the arch with an appraising little smile on his lips as he looked at you. It had been memorable, the way he'd taken your hand in his large palm and squeezed, peering at you with something attentive in his eyes, almost... intrigued. Welcome, he'd told you, it's lovely to meet you.

And now, only hours later, his fingers are in your pussy.

Pumping slow and deep, rhythmic and filthy as you lounge in his lap with your legs wide and your head resting languidly against the heat of his neck. He's got your skirt pulled up, one big hand spread firm over your trembling belly while he fucks you with his middle and index. The flickering blue of his computer monitor is your only source of light, showering his office in a dim glow.

You whimper and his fingers still, lodged deep inside your heat. He hushes you softly, strokes your tummy with his thumb and leans back slightly in his chair.

"Shh, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice low and husky, "Don't want the night crew to know what we're doing in here, now do we?"

No, you certainly don't. Can't even imagine what the reaction would be were anyone from the office to know you're being fingered by the boss on your first day. You bite down on your lip and lean back into his lap, look down with hooded eyes as he slowly resumes the slow plunge of his fingers. They're so thick, coated in a clear gloss of your release that glows blue in the light. He places his thumb on your clit, applies pressure, and you let out another pathetic whimper.

"Ohh, poor thing," he admonishes gently, "You want something in your mouth to help you stay quiet?" his hand comes up to brush against your face, "Hm? You need something to suck on?"

Your brain feels empty but you nod anyway, eyelashes fluttering as he wastes no time in slipping the middle and index of his left hand past the wetness of your lips. You suck immediately, closing your eyes and feeling them roll behind your lids as he fucks two of your holes at once, just taking, using.

Is this why I'm here, you can't help but think to yourself, did I only get this job so he could play with me like some kind of doll?

You can't quite believe you're even in this situation. You'd stayed late in order to make a good impression, still had some things you needed to figure out at your desk anyway. Everyone else had slowly trickled out of the office, until you'd realized all that remained was you and Mr. York. He'd smiled at you through the open blinds of his office, leaning back in his chair with his legs wide and his arms stretched behind his head. He'd brought one down when your eyes had met, crooked his finger as if to say, Come here for a minute.

You'd gotten up from your desk and entered his office, anxiety building in the pit of your stomach. You'd hoped you weren't about to be reprimanded for something you thought would impress him.

But he didn't reprimand you. He didn't mention the fact that you were staying late, didn't ask about how the job was treating you, if there was anything you needed, no. Instead, he'd looked you up and down again with that assessing, calculative stare and murmured, "Can you come sit in my lap for a little while, sweetheart?"

You suppose you could've said no. Probably should have, actually. That would have been the most logical thing to do - slam the door and quit your job, maybe even sue for harassment. Anyone else probably would have. But you'd taken one look at his crotch, seen the noticeably thick shape that bulged against his thigh, and realized he'd been sitting there watching you for who knows how long. He'd gotten that hard just from looking, assessing.

Fuck it.

"There you go," he breathes softly now, peering at you with dark and imploring eyes as he fucks your mouth and pussy, "That's a good girl, honey, I know," his brow furrows when you whine around his fingers, "I know, baby. You're doing so good."

He rocks you in his lap like you belong there, and it's impossible not to feel the way his clothed cock throbs against your ass. You want to see it so badly, want to touch it, taste it - but he doesn't give you the opportunity. Instead, he circles his thumb against your clit until you're shaking in his arms, hands gripping anything you can reach - the chair, your knee, his wrist. Your orgasm rolls through you and his fingers muffle the sound of your whines, your gasps, until your bones feel like jelly and your heart has slowed. He stills his movements again and lazily pulls all four fingers out of you, watches you breathe deeply and fall back against him with goosebumps rising on your skin.

"Get up now, baby. Bend over the desk for me," he tells you in that low voice, "Show me your pussy."

You pull yourself out of his lap on extremely shaky legs but obey his orders, inching forward a little to position yourself against his desk. You can feel his eyes on you as you reach back and pull yourself apart for him, show him where his fingers have invaded and explored, opened you up and made you drool.

"Juicy little thing," you hear him murmur, and then his belt buckle is jangling and you know what comes next. Legs still trembling, you keep holding yourself open and push yourself further down onto the desk, skirt pulled high and panties still hanging off one of your ankles.

He's filling you up in no time at all, cock plunged deep to the hilt and so much bigger than you'd anticipated. His tip kisses a spot inside of you that you're not sure anyone's ever been able to reach, and against your own volition you moan, low and long, full of pleasure and desperation.

You hear him tsk somewhere above you, "You really can't stay quiet can you?" He says it softly but it's full of condescension, like it's starting to genuinely bother him. Before you can apologize he's reaching down for something, still bottomed out completely inside of you as his arms and hands seem to do something out of sight. A few seconds later his blue polka dotted tie appears in front of your face, and then he's carefully settling the soft material between your lips, pulling back and tying it meticulously behind your head. A makeshift gag.

"Gotta learn to be quiet when I fuck you, okay?" he breathes, raspy and dark as he slowly pulls his cock from your pussy, only to feed it back to you again just as slow, "You don't want us to get in trouble, do you?"

No, sir, you want to whisper, but you can't. All you can do is nod slightly and grip the desk when he starts to fuck you in earnest, thrusting deep and hard before pulling out and doing it all over again. Your thighs quiver and shake against the cool wood, and as you lay there and let him take, you spot something out of the corner of your eye.

A framed picture of a family - his family.

You avert your eyes, turning your head slightly to see where his left hand is gripping your shoulder as he fucks you - you spot the wedding ring immediately. Christ.

But you don't stop it. You don't push him away, you don't leave. Even though you probably should. Even though the logical part of your brain is screaming at you that what's happening really shouldn't be, especially now that you know he's a married man.

You just let him use you. You let him fuck and fill you until he's gripping your hair in his fist and his cock is spasming and pulsing inside of you. You let him release his entire load inside your pussy, bare and messy. And then you let him pull you into his chair, tug the tie from your mouth and situate you back in his lap, still impaled on his cock.

Neither of you speak for a solid minute. He catches his breath while you try not to look at the photograph, to forget its existence entirely.

"The last one quit the first day," you hear him mumble, voice edged with tiredness, "But you won't, will you?" He thrusts shallowly inside of you, holds you against his chest as his cum starts to leak out and dribble down the hefty shape of his balls. "You'll let me do this, huh?"

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

#dave york x reader #dave york smut #*

[murdrdocs]

boxer luke and coach ares that's all i'm gonna say. being tossed around by them ENOUGH. in the ring UHHH I CAN'T ITT

they're both mentors for you in a way—ares being the guy you hired to help you out, and luke being the knowledgeable guy who trains at the same gym, always willing to give advice.

the dynamic between you three is weird and messy. you with your obvious crush on ares. luke with his obvious crush on you. luke and ares with their obvious beef, as ares continues to talk down on luke especially whenever you throw his name in a conversation.

"luke told me if i throw my punches from here, then i'll get more power behind it." and ares is quick to scoff, rolling his eyes and planting his hands on his hips.

"yeah, and you'll be more likely to pull a muscle."

luke hates when you do something clearly learned from ares, just as much as he hates to see you following the older coach around with hearts in your eyes. but you still end up in both of their webs, taking advice from either side and entangling them together.

and there has to be a day where it all comes to a head. likely when luke is training with you in the ring, wearing the punching mitts and watching your form. he keeps praising you, little "good"'s and "atta girl"'s thrown out there. and you're both so locked in, luke watching you with a fondness in your eyes and you encouraged by something within you that wants to impress luke, that neither of you notice the small audience standing at the edge of the ring. not until he scoffs and enters the ring.

ares towers over luke, he's almost twice his size, but luke can hold his own. staring up at your trainer, glaring up at him. and ares has a similar look on his face, his cold blue eyes staring down at luke with disgust in them, as if luke simply helping you out is something that sickens ares.

and you're just standing there in the center, looking between the two men, trying hard to ignore the feeling low in your stomach.

bonus: after your session, luke finds you in the locker room.

#man oh man do i need #/chats #lukesworld! #aresworld! #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #ares x reader #ares x you #celeste writes pjo

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

Man, this pisses me off so bad. If you're a woman who relates more to males than other women, it's because you've decided to focus more on how you're different from other women rather than how you're like them. You will literally never have more in common with males, and males do not feel the same way about you. These cute little posts that you write about how you love males more than your fellow women? They do not write the same thing about you. They hate and mock you constantly. Anyone remember "Cis women need to shut up"

"As a cis woman, I agree"

"You need to shut up, specifically"

?

Yea, that's how they feel about you and your solidarity.

The difference between lesbians and trans women in female spaces is the fact that lesbians do not have high rates of violence. There is no group of women that outclass men in terms of violent tendencies. Trans women retain the rates of male violence that regular men do. I'm not saying you have to treat trans women like they're all violent beasts, but if you can't see why female people would be uncomfortable with male people in their spaces, you're either naive or genuinely unsympathetic towards the very real fear that women have of being subjected to male violence. You can't say trans women and lesbians are similar because, unlike males, there is no statistical evidence that lesbians are highly likely to take advantage of a woman. If it turned out that 98% of rapes were committed by lesbians, I would 1000% understand why straight women don't fucking want to be around me. Have some fucking empathy, holy fucking shit. Even if you are completely on board with trans women being in female spaces, at LEAST acknowledge that it makes sense for women to be concerned about who is allowed in their spaces. It's crazy how I could tell someone I have a fear of dogs because one bit me when I was a kid, and they'd put their sweet pooch up, but God forbid a woman be cautious around a demographic who commit 90% of all violent crime. Oh no. That woman is suddenly a terf bitch.

I have nothing in common with trans women. I don't care how much pain they have experienced. We are not the same. When I was twelve, I cried and I cried as I put my palms together to pray to a God I hoped would be able to take away my homosexuality. I didn't even grow up in a particularly homophobic family. Both of my parents were accepting of me, but I still sat in the dark of my room, tears streaming down my face, as I prayed to have my sexuality changed.

Two years later, one of my friends made a joke about me dressing to impress my crush. She said my crushes name---a feminine name. A girl sitting in earshot heard her, turned to me, and asked me with disgust if I was gay. I said no without even thinking about it. It absolutely did not help that we were in a locker room with other girls. I was aware of my sexuality by that point, but I was 14 and unable to hold my own against a girl looking at me like THAT. For a few weeks after that, that girl made comments about how she was "watching me".

I know pain, I know discomfort, I know what it's like to feel predatory. Seeing feminine women, especially if they're white, makes me feel like an alien. I look at them and think "how are we so different? I see none of myself in you."

Sometimes I'm right. Sometimes we're not similar at all. But guess what? That doesn't mean I'm similar to a straight male. Fucking hell, sometimes I'm not similar to other lesbians. That's completely normal. I think OP needs to read better work by cishet women. If you think that there is not a single piece of cishet female writing that can move you more than something written by a male, you're not looking in the right places at all. I don't understand why some LB women seem to think that the very act of someone being a straight woman makes them incapable of relatability. Of course it makes sense for you to be cautious. Lesbians deal with a lot of alienation and predatory feelings, but if the very ACT of a woman being cis and straight makes you feel like she has absolutely nothing in common with you...? The issue lies with you. YOU are the one othering THEM. Not the other way around. You're the one who has decided that a few cis straight women othering you means that they ALL will so you'd better beat them to the punch. You're the one who has decided that your relationship to womanhood is so astronomically different from straight women that nothing they say speaks to you. That's INSANE. Do you realize how much you have to alienate yourself from womanhood to feel more relatability with a male person than a female one? Idk how to tell you this, but it is highly probable that the most cis, most het woman you have ever met has had a period. It's highly likely she's been harassed by a man. It's highly likely she's been made to feel inferior by way of being born female. No, they can't relate to the experience of being a lesbian who is made to feel predatory for no reason, but to say that nothing a cis het woman says/experiences can move you at all? Nothing they say can make you feel like your experience with womanhood and hers are similar? Do you realize how you sound? "Trans women have been harassed by men and made to feel inferior, too!!" Okay! So you should be able to relate to cis women in the way you do trans women, right?

I told my discord server that I was nervous about my future roommates. I showed them photos and someone said "all this tells me is that they're feminine and white" and I literally think about that all of the time. I was projecting. I was so scared that these white, feminine, probably straight women were going to judge me for being a black lesbian that I didn't even realize that I was the one violently judging them based off of nothing but their skin color and their femininity. I knew nothing about them. I STILL know nothing about them. I've barely spoken to them. But already I had labeled them as unrelatable judgemental women because of how they looked. Hold on. Wasn't I the one afraid of them judging ME? How could I be so afraid of them judging me for being a black lesbian when I was the one judging them already? What sense does that make?

You guys are so busy writing off cis straight women as unrelatable bigots that you've failed to see that you're the one who is extremely prejudiced against them. And I absolutely fucking know someone is gonna read this and say "well, you can't say that all trans women have male violence patterns and dahdahdahdah" and it's like. But YOU can say that cis straight women are so unbelievably different from lesbian women that you'd rather say you're more similar to a straight up fucking male???

I'm not saying it's not a little jarring to see women who are so different from me. I'm not saying I haven't been burned before and there's no reason for me (or other lesbians) to be cautious. But I will literally ALWAYS have more in common with cishet women than I ever will a man pretending to be a woman.

One time I had a professor. She was on the older side (I'd say 40's) and white. Not the type of person I'd think I'd click well with. She was straight and married with children. One day we talked after class, and the only thing that ended our conversation was the fact she had an event she had to go to. We would've talked longer if not for that. She emailed me a little while later to tell me that she enjoyed our chat. After that, she actually hugged me on two occasions. You wouldn't think we'd have common ground. An older, straight, married white mother and a young black lesbian. Both of us are "cis" but I can tell you I relate to her much better than I ever could someone born male.

I once had a personal trainer who was a feminine woman. She had acrylic nails and everything. One time she said that she couldn't hug her male friends anymore because she had a boyfriend (he wasn't the one enforcing that rule. That was something she personally felt). Also not someone I thought I'd click well with. But we did. One time we had a really productive discussion that was actually derived from the conversation with my professor. I felt very close to her in that moment. Our conversation came to a close because she had another client, but I still think about that convo.

There have been so many fucking times where I thought "this woman is not like me. Look at her." But what I realized was that I was the judgmental one. I was the one deciding we were different, not her. I was the one writing her off. I was the one convinced we had nothing in common.

I am BEGGING you not to alienate your fellow women. There are no inherent traits that make you unable to relate to other women. No amount of whiteness or cisness or straightness can make a woman completely unreachable. I am NOT talking about political parties or views so don't fucking try me with that shit. Obviously that puts a wedge between people, but someone simply being born cis and het does not make them alien from you. For God's sake, look at the fucking MeToo movement. Women from all fucking backgrounds who share an experience that an unfortunate amount of women go through. Women from all different races, sexualities, etc. who came together to talk about how they've been subjected to sexual violence. Ellen degeneres was one of them. How does that fit into your "lesbians and cishet women cannot relate to each other" spiel?

OP's post has 130k notes and it makes me fucking sick. Holy crap y'all, we need more solidarity than this. Other women are not your enemy. I'm begging you to reconsider your approach to women who are different than you. You are missing out on people who can love and support you in a way that literally no male can. You are depriving yourself. Just because a few cishet women in the past alienated you, does not mean that you have to continue their legacy. Let it go. Everyone on earth can see you embracing your hatred of women, and you wonder why your fellow women never hug you? They fucking can't! Put your hatred down and make space for the love that comes with realizing that you absolutely are like other girls!

#You guys think you're so progressive but you're just in a woke version of not like other girls #Stop comparing lesbians to literal males #Jesus fucking Christ #I actually hate you guys so fucking much #I'm never telling anyone I'm gay every again bro #I hate all of you #I should've prayed to be asexual man #Maybe god would've taken me more seriously

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Baji hc's pls?

Here they are!!!

He's very good at predicting when people will try to steal his food (years of being around Mikey will do this to you)

Thinks of Emma as being his little sister too

As a kid he used to pick up random bugs to show them to his mum (she was not impressed)

Growls whenever his hairband snaps

Gets extremely excited for zoo visits, as a kid he actually used to frequently get lost at zoo trips since he'd run off to look at all the animals faster then his mum/ class. 

Likes splashing in puddles (especially if it means he can splash Chifuyu or Ryusei).

Whenever he sees Luna and Mana they beg to braid his hair (he secretly likes it being played with)

Actually likes talking while watching movies, he likes having someone to theorise with and discuss the plot with.

He can't take any credit for his hair care cause his mother taught him everything he knows.

As a kid he would constantly invite Kazutora round for dinner because he didn't like the idea of him being home alone/ with his parents.

Actually doesn't understand the fuss over dating at all (not until he meets a certain someone and falls in love at first sight).

Can make a really great paper airplane (used to aim them at Mikey's hair) 

Will show affection through biting 

Is super handy with tools, always fixing things his mother tells him to (she taught him everything he knows).

Shinichiro used to ruffle his hair a lot as a kid, he always loved that feeling (Shinichiro's the only one allowed to do this though)

His school sports coaches are constantly trying to recruit him for baseball club (i mean tbf he does have great aim).

Used to have his own piercings but his mum made him take them out (that's why he knows what he's doing with Kazutora's).

Is really great at climbing trees (he wanted to beat Mikey so badly at climbing that he started practising non stop.)

Has accidentally broken his phone at least 6 times

Has named every single stray cat that comes into his room. 

Got so angry when Senju attacked him while training Emma (he immediately pushed Emma behind him to try and protect her) but that anger immediately vanished when he realised who attacked him and why. 

Has teased Mikey before by saying Emma likes him as a martial arts partner more.

Has a lucky hair tie for fights 

Is very protective as a partner, will constantly check your wellbeing and safety.

Is also on bug duty, there's a big spider in the house? It's his job to take it outside. 

Is a bit of a baby when it comes to taking medicines, doesn't like the way they taste and refuses to take them. 

Went to visit Sanzu in the hospital after the incident, he brought him magazines to try and cheer him up. 

Feeds the local wildlife as well as cats, he has a few trees where he hangs birdfeeders etc

His mother always makes a big effort for his birthdays so he's learnt to make a big effort for everyone elses. Though he always puts in the most effort for her.

Has been late to meetings because he was distracted by a cat before

Baji kept every letter Kazutora sent him

As a partner he's very good at reading your moods and adapting to them. Your sad? Then he'll cheer you up. Stressed? He'll help you relax. Angry? Then he'll take you out somewhere to let that frustration out.

Watered a fake plant for two years without realising it wasn't real once.

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev #baji keisuke #keisuke baji #tokyo revengers spoilers

[deafsignifcantother]

the baby

♥ summary: almost loosely based off of this by @ukor02. I made Alastor a main character and her main bestie because of course I did. This is really just a small little writing thing I did at 4am. ♥ relationship: no direct romance really, just some cute stuff between Lucifer and reader. ♥ word count: 1.6 ♥ notes: no childbirth mentioning and this is written like just as summaries of the situation tbh. almost like a bullet point format without the bullet points

You wanted to give your baby a chance to get into Heaven, even if it meant they'd leave without you. Hell is no place for a child. Both you and Charlie knew that.

.

"What a pleasant surprise," you sign to Alastor when you see that damn smiling demon right outside your hotel room.

He laughs; aw, you're describing his arrival as pleasant. Did he make a good impression on you when you saw him last when he introduced himself in person in Pride Sign Language? You never seemed to have paid any mind to him, giving one motion signs as responses whenever he tried starting a conversation. But even when you interacted with him like that, he couldn't help but wonder why you always looked at him with your sweet, shy gaze. It's not on purpose, which is the worst part.

Pleasant, you called it a pleasant surprise.

"It's good to see you too, my dear!" He signs, bowing a bit and pushing past you into your room. "What have you been up to?"

What an obnoxious question.

You close the door, squeezing the doorknob tightly. This is going to be a long evening. When you turn back to Alastor, he's in your living room examining the decor, your random art pieces taped to the walls and organized together, though not concisely.

He waves his hands. "I love what you've done with the place."

"I've been bored." You sign with a slight nod to yourself. It's awfully isolating, which is obvious. Still, it has never hit you as hard as it does now as you watch another person walk through your chambers.

"I'm glad I can be in your company then." His smile widens, and the static he emits gets heavier. His ear twitched a bit, which you noticed but tried not to directly look at. Was it a good or bad thing?

"But it's often relieving to be alone," you start and look him up and down.

"You're quite used to being alone, aren't you?"

Your lips tighten, your hands stiff, and you are unable to finish your sentence. Absentmindedly, you rest them on your plump, pregnant belly. Alastor does his best not to let his eyes draw down to analyze it. Still, his head tilts, even just a little. He hates looking at your hands when you touch your stomach. Did his mother hold her belly like that when he was inside of hers?

"Don't you have others to talk to?"

"They're out on their little journeys, you know them."

"Of course."

Alas, he lets his eyes trail down to your stomach. It's not quite full, but it's obvious enough to gain attention from others. Charlie will put her hands on it every day, waiting for the baby to show its presence. She can feel the heartbeat, and so can you and Vaggie, though everybody else can't feel a thing. Alastor refuses to put a hand on your stomach. Life is precious and loud, and the few who were never human understand that differently than the others.

"I wanted to check in on the baby."

A twitch of your eyebrow makes his smile widen.

"Why?"

.

The day before, Lucifer arrived.

You try on your best clothes, laying them flat against your front, looking at your belly in the mirror. For the king, should you try to hide it or show it proudly? He has a daughter, but does that affect his thoughts about Hellborn pregnancies? Gosh, what do you have to worry about? So stupid.

With the other people, your new friends, you stood with your head proud.

He swirled with the dragons and hugged his daughter as if he hadn't seen her for years. What a kind man, unusually kind. His eyes... Those soft, precious eyes. And when they landed on you, your heart almost stopped. He looked at you as if you were an angel. When his lips started to move, the smile you didn't even know you wore faded.

Charlie put her hand on his shoulder and whispered something to him. And there came Alastor, saving the day.

"The idiotic king was just telling you how happy he is for you." With the signs came the grinding of his teeth.

Lucifer approached, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. He addressed Alastor with aggressive hesitance. 'Tell her...' he said.

Charlie smiled excitedly, Nifty kept nodding, and Sir Pentious's eyes started tearing up.

Alastor grimaced. "He's asking if he could feel your stomach."

As always, you've put a thorn in the flow of interactions.

Still, you put on a smile. "Of course."

And there you stood, the King of Hell's hands gently holding you. You could feel the cold of his touch even through the fabric of your shirt. The heartbeat vibrated through both your body and his. The baby was alive and well; you could tell through the pure glee that spread across his face. Beyond your tiny ounce of worry, you knew he'd find hope within your baby.

Alastor watched with a terribly strained smile.

.

"Why?" You ask again when he doesn't answer. "What's with the sudden worry?"

"Worry? No, no." Alastor waves you off. "More like..."

You watch with interest as he trails off, a vulnerability you love.

He squints his eyes and clenches his fists, but only for a moment. His lack of vocabulary kills him. "...Intrigue."

You crack a smirk. "Are you finally gonna feel my stomach?"

Another pause. Alastor considers it, but all he can imagine is his claws accidentally drawing blood.

"No."

"That's okay." Again, your hands rest on your stomach.

.

Alastor has been watching it grow, but so has Lucifer. Charlie's father scarcely visits, and you've convinced yourself it's to see you. Every time he enters the hotel, he asks how you are. He tries to lift his hands to sign but finds no words forming. A language was created in his world, and he has yet to learn how to learn it.

Whenever he presses his hands against your belly, he can feel the liveliness of the soul forming inside you, and he can feel your appreciation at his care.

Begrudgingly, he always has to ask Alastor for advice on communicating with you. Alastor always has a cocky smirk when he teaches.

Charlie has to ask Alastor for help, too, but more willingly. Alastor raises his chin and squares shoulders when people ask him for help. Charlie went to him for help on a conversation you knew she was going to start with you:

"You're not going to stay here for the battle."

"I know." There was no argument on your behalf. Charlie's cheeks still went pink.

"But I have to figure out where it's safest for you. Alastor told me Cannibal Town, but uhh... Maybe not."

"They'll all be here anyway. Maybe they'll distract the angels from going over there."

Her bright eyes widen a bit. "Do you think so?"

"I can stay over there, even if they try to eat me." They won't, and even if they try, they know Alastor would end their lives, don't they?

She fiddles with her fingers before lifting them up again. "I suppose..."

She's so quickly convinced it's cute. You're right, though, of course. Cannibal Town might be the safest place, specifically under the hands of Rosie, who Alastor had previously told you would be more than willing to help you. You can imagine her smile at seeing your belly, twice the size as when Alastor first told you about her. Unbeknownst to Charlie, he's been planning this for a while.

Your stress for their safety irks you more than you expected.

You place a hand on Charlie's, lifting your other one. "I'll be okay."

Before you left for Cannibal Town, you met Lucifer once again, a more loving side of him. He cradled your head and held the back of your neck as he did. His cold body felt like warmth to you. He whispered things to you; you could only tell from how his breath constantly brushed against your ear in sing-songy waves. Was he singing to you? A lullaby? He pulled away and finally signed to you. "You're going to be a great mom."

A moment before, Alastor finally put his hands on your belly. His hands were warm. Like Lucifer, he was whispering to himself, holding silent words from you. In another life, you'd imagine they were prayers. At that moment, only an instinct, you put your hands on his, and he allowed it.

The stress of their safety worsened when they were left alone in Cannibal Town without a word of winning or losing.

The winning of Hell was all you wanted to focus on when you noticed the contractions getting worse, spaced out in purposeful ways. Oh goodness, you found yourself thinking, oh my God.

What if Lucifer dies on the same day your child is born?

But after the battle, he was right there to cradle the baby in his arms, his heavenly grasp relaxing the tiny baby. The rest of the group sat in your room, Sir Pentious absent, tears in their eyes at both the birth and the death.

Beyond Lucifer's cradling, Husk was the only one who touched your child that day. He placed his furry paw against the baby, feeling the body heat that they admitted. Life could be beautiful, he decided.

Vaggie's sense of revenge deepened. She sacrificed Heaven to save a child, and now she's even more than willing to kill her sisters to save yours.

While Charlie stares at your baby with tears, Alastor smiles warmly at you. He knew you could do it: birth something beautiful and worth protecting.

Your eyes are locked on Lucifer. He's an amazing, supportive dad to Charlie, and your heart begins to swell. Your heartbeat increases, and a blush weakly forms on your already flushed face. His rough hands hold a forgiving softness. He's beautiful.

#x deaf reader #hazbin hotel #x reader #lucifer #alastor #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader

[sunfortune]

i am still contemplating to check bridgerton for kanthony or not but from what i've seen i got an impression that a lot of kate's brainworms came from her step mother NOT treating her as real daughter. kate can't see it but as viewer it's obvious. we can joke about how annoying mrs bennet was but let's be real at that period among nobility lady mother not bothering to help her daughter to find a husband and being okay for her to be a spinster is a form of parental neglect. it was rather convenient for step mother to take kate's devotion for granted and ignore how kate neglected her own needs in process for her bio daughter. wish show actually was aware of this.

not even getting into any of the implications of the regency setting. it’s the fact that mary was gonna stay with edwina after she got married instead of kate LIKE ?! even working under the good faith interpretation that kate didn’t wanna get married and mary didn’t wanna force her. and it wasn’t straight up neglect. mary was gonna go stay with the daughter who would be MARRIED and TAKEN CARE OF with her OWN FAMILY and OWN HOME and not the daughter who would literally have NOTHING ? ? and has nothing BECAUSE of how she always prioritized you over herself?

litchrally the scene when anthonys like “so you’ll abandon her (about edwina)” and kate explicitly say “she’ll be married she won’t need me anymore” but the plot never delves into the flip side despite her being the MAIN character. how kate WOULDNT be married according to that plan and mary would ACTUALLY be abandoning her ?!

it was so lazy the way they just didn’t go into the dysfunction of the sharma family dynamic like they did for anthony and violet. even JUST an acknowledgment from mary that she didn’t always treat kate fairly instead of the gaslighting they were doing to kate AND the audience like. gorgeous scene, beautiful scene! when mary tells kate she always loved her. but IN CONTEXT? it was like…i just watched 8 straight eps of kate getting neglected in 4k. and 5 minutes ago your plan was to abandon her at the first opportunity that presented itself. im gonna actually need you to do a little better than this

#ask #bridgerton* #bridgerton

[kokomyass]

OKK i thought of one

I was thinking a gojo fic for a change and reader is a new teacher at the school so he kinda shows her everything but the whole time he's being super flirty and stuff. YKWIM😭😭

Also second person (you/your)🧍🏾‍♀️I physically cannot read it any other way.

THANK UU BBY LOVE U LOADS😋

GURLLLLLL I LOVEEE THAT REQUEST AND SORRY IT TOOK AGES IVE BEEN SO BUSY....

LOVE YOU MORE BB 🥰🥰🥰

i hope you enjoy!!! (icl I'm half asleep)

Gojo Satoru ☆ The Ropes

Gojo x Fem!Reader Genre: ☁️ Word Count: 1014 Trigger Warnings ⚠️

Second Person POV

The morning sun spilled through the windows of what would be your new classroom, casting a warm glow on the empty desks arranged neatly in rows. Today marked the beginning of your journey as a teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, and you couldn't wait to dive into the world of sorcery and education.

You has been born into a family of sorcerers and it had been your lifelong dream to teach and help influence younger students to pursue a life of sorcery. When you saw job positions released for Tokyo Jujutsu High, you couldn't help but immediately apply...especially when the famous Satoru Gojo was known to be a teacher there.

You saw Gojo as a role model, someone you wanted to impress....to live up to....

Just as you were organizing your lesson plans and looking at student profiles, the door swung open with a flourish, visibly shocking you as you let out a yelp, and in strolled Satoru Gojo, the infamous and irresistibly charismatic jujutsu sorcerer.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Gojo's voice rang out, his signature smirk evident even though his eyes were hidden behind his ever-present blindfold.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness at his sudden appearance. "Oh! Uhhh...Good morning, Gojo-sensei," you greeted, trying to maintain your composure, being slightly astounded as to how handsome and undeniably attractive he was.

"Ah, you must be the new teacher, Y/N!! You certainly are a sight for sore eyes....I've been waiting to meet you," Gojo exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious as he sauntered over to you. "I'm here to show you the ropes, teach you the tricks, and maybe sprinkle in a little bit of charm along the way."

Your face flushed red as he placed a hand on your shoulder, putting you in close proximity considering you just met along with the extremely obvious flirting.

And so, your day began with THE Satoru Gojo as your guide, leading you through the labyrinth halls of the school and introducing you to the eccentric staff members.

It was rather shocking to you that not a single teacher had one good word to put in for Gojo no matter how much he begged.

Nanami encounter

"Gojo is indeed powerful....but I have no respect for him." Nanami stated folding his arms ignoring Gojo's presence.

"Oh...um-" you weren't sure what to say at all and whilst you were thinking about what to say, you have been dragged away by Gojo.

As you navigated the bustling corridors, Gojo regaled you with stories of his own misadventures during his time as a student, each tale more outrageous than the last. You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, feeling yourself relax in his presence despite the weight of your new responsibilities.

"Well Y/N, I've said enough about myself and my duties...what made a beautiful lady like you want to become a jujutsu sorcerer?" Gojo turned to look down at you as your eyes widened at his unexpected question.

You blushed at his compliment as you answered looking at him, "Well, I've always believed that being a sorcerer is so fun, and that we need to protect all of those who can't protect themselves...and being able to do that gived me a feeling that I can't describe."

You looked up to the sunset thinking about what you said as Gojo stayed silent looking into the distance. It was the first time foe the whole of the day that you had seen him so...quiet...

After a few more seconds of silence you heard his voice.

"I like that Y/N." he turned to you smiling as you turned back smiling at him too.

"Teaching at Tokyo Jujutsu High isn't just about imparting knowledge," Gojo explained as he demonstrated a particularly intricate spell. "It's about embracing the chaos, rolling with the punches, and maybe even pulling off a few flashy moves to keep the students on their toes."

You chuckled as the Gojo you had grown accustomed to had come back.

Throughout the day, Gojo's flirtatious remarks and playful teasing kept you on your toes, each interaction leaving you both flustered and entertained. But beneath his charming facade, you could sense a genuine desire to see you succeed in your new role, which made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

As the sun began to set and the day drew to a close, Gojo walked you to the school gates, his presence as electrifying as ever.

"Well, Y/N, it looks like our adventure together has come to an end," Gojo said with a dramatic flourish, his hand brushing against yours as he leaned in close. "But remember, if you ever need guidance, advice, or just someone to banter with, I'll be here, ready to lend a helping hand. Here is my number if you need anything."

With a wink and a smile, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving you with a renewed sense of confidence and a newfound appreciation for the magic of teaching at Tokyo Jujutsu High. And as you watched him go, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected mentorship of Satoru Gojo, the enigmatic jujutsu sorcerer with a heart of gold.

You look at the pice of paper he gave with his 'number' on it only to see not only his number but a little message saying.

'....and to go on a little date too... ;)'

lil extra!!

It had been a month or so since you started working at the school and it had also been a month since you were dating Gojo....and life never did have a dull moment....

"What do you see in that man. I thought I warned you."

You and Nanami were in the staffroom alone as you waited for Gojo to take you out on a date.

"Nanami....he isn't that bad you see he always buys me-"

Just as you were about to finish your sentence, Gojo burst in shouting.

"SWEETS!!" you smiled as he finished you sentence without knowing handing you your favourite sweets happily.

"See Nanami, that's why I love him "

dayum um tired as hell, will edit letter....I hope you enjoyed especially my favour gorgeous gal 💜💜😍💜💜😍💜💜

#anime #anime fluff #anime x reader #fyp #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustu kaisen

[coraniaid]

I read this post the other day and now I can't help but try to plot out a S3 AU in which Gwendolyn Post is just a little more patient (and maybe, as a result, she's not yet managed to get herself expelled from the Watcher's Council, so she doesn't have to worry about being exposed as a fraud the minute Rupert Giles thinks to make a single phone call).

A world where Gwen realizes that having unlimited access to a emotionally unstable teenage Slayer with no friends or family in town -- a Slayer who will do almost anything for the smallest scraps of positive attention from an even vaguely maternal authority figure -- might, on balance, be more beneficial to her personal quest for power and magical treasure than immediately burning all her bridges to steal a metal glove that can't ever be taken off and continually casts a spell that summons lightning directly down on to the person wearing it.  

Put yourself in Mrs Gwendolyn Post's shoes. 

Isn't it much smarter to keep playing the part of the stern but genuine Watcher, a part you did after all train for for years of your life -- and maybe quietly help yourself to a few of the more valuable magical items your Slayer happens to bring you on the side -- than to risk it all for one single prize, however rare?  If, with just a little molding and prodding and some barbed compliments now and then, you can get that teenage girl to go out and kill demons and steal all their stuff and bring it all back to you, no questions asked, where's the harm?  All you have to do is keep making sure she remembers that she's fundamentally unlovable and unwanted and that nobody else but you will ever accept her and the best she can ever hope for is your occasional fleeting and conditional praise, as long as she does what she's told and keeps it all a secret.  Half of that is taken verbatim from the Council's own script for enlisting new Slayers anyway. It'll be easy.

Maybe you tell her how impressed you are that she's training throughout the winter, rather than letting herself get distracted by things like holidays or parties or presents. Tell her some half-true story about the focus and determination of long-dead Slayers before her.  (You can go to all the parties you want, of course.  These rules don’t apply to you.)  Maybe you show up at her motel room briefly later, just to make sure she didn't take up that irritating other girl's unexpected offer to go to her house for dinner.  Maybe you reward her dedication to the cause with some little unimportant bauble; something cheap and meaningless you notice she keeps wearing for weeks afterwards, even if she pretended not to be impressed with your gift at the time.  Maybe you stick the crappy little (obviously shoplifted) presents that she nervously watches you unwrap later in a drawer somewhere and never think about them again.

Maybe you give her a little bit of advance warning about the Cruciamentum. Not early enough she can tell anyone else, of course, but early enough that she's ready for it. Not because you care (and you really don’t; she's an easily manipulated idiot and you don't respect her in the slightest), but because you want her to realize that the rest of the Council can't be trusted. That Mr Giles can't be trusted.  That there's only one person in all the world who she can trust.  

And if one night she shows up at your door uninvited to tell you that she killed an innocent man by mistake (you really don't care about this either), and she doesn't have anyone else to turn to (you try not to make it too obvious how pleased you are about that), then ... well, what an opportunity for you.  Obviously you're not going to let anyone else on the Council know about this: maybe they'd take her back to England, wasting all your hard work. Maybe they'd send a new Watcher to interrogate her.  But the Sunnydale police department aren't exactly competent.  You can make it all go away, you tell her.  And you do. 

But you let her know, subtly -- just not too subtly -- how disappointed you are by her carelessness.  How she'll have to work a lot harder from now on to get back into your good graces.  How you've really risked a lot for her tonight (you haven't) and how much she owes you now.  How you'll expect her to do better from now on (or at least to do more, more often, without ever asking inconvenient questions).

The disgrace was almost getting caught, you'll tell her later. That's what you found so deplorable. The mistake was needing to be bailed out.  There’s no excuse for sloppiness.  Killing some idiot who got in the way while the Slayer was doing her job though … well, Faith’s right to think that he wasn’t important.  He didn’t matter.  Oh, and the Sunnydale natural history museum is hosting an exhibit of a few rare magical objects next week that it would probably be best to keep in safe hands.  (Which is to say, of course, your hands.)  You don’t think Buffy or Giles need to know about it, do you, Faith? It would be best to be discreet about securing the necessary items, but if some idiot happens to get in the way, well...

There's no real risk of Faith being tricked into outing herself, the way she was tricked into revealing she was working for the Mayor in canon, because it's not a secret that Gwendolyn Post is Faith's Watcher.  Faith is supposed to listen to her Watcher, isn’t she?  And if her Watcher tells Faith to kill some demon and bring her the valuable books he was trying to sell, why shouldn't Faith do it?  Killing demons is her job, isn't it?  She’s good at killing things.  Good at stealing things, too, it turns out. Sometimes you don't even have to pretend to be impressed.

If Faith seems increasingly sad and withdrawn all the time, why do you care? It doesn't make her any less useful. And if Faith doesn't talk to anyone much anymore, and keeps some of her missions secret from her fellow Slayer and all of that other Slayer's little friends and hangers-on, what's so strange about that?  They're not Faith's friends, after all. None of them are.  Faith doesn't have friends.  Never needed them.  She's got somebody though.  She's got Mrs Post.

#btvs

[cosmic-kaden]

A H E M

Guess who is finally out of the crush zone? >/////> He's only been in there for 2 months. I have LORE, I have a PLAYLIST. Lord so help me I LOVE this goofball-

Hey if you aren't a self-shipper dni. I have anxiety lol // self shippers this is okay to rb! I'd love to know your thoughts on the new ship! :D its been a long time coming! (so long as you're not a dick. I dont do critic stuff here cause its self ship lol)

Lore? Lore. (I use his first and last name interchangeably for obv reasons lol)

Kaden met Adam on their birthday. Kaden was out with a group of friends but things went sour when Kaden's ex showed up. There was a huge fight that broke out and basically it ended with Kaden ditching their own birthday party to go cry on the curb because their friends ended up hanging out with their dumbass ex.

That's when they met Sackler. He didn't acknowledge them at first. He sat right next to them at the curb but when he did speak he said something that made Kaden scoff and give him a look of disbelief.

"You look ugly when you cry."

Kaden thought they were already having a horrid night who the fuck was this guy!? Kaden called him a douche bag and smiled a little because they honestly weren't expecting him to say it. He followed up his last statement.

"See now you have a very beautiful smile." smooth bastard.

Eventually Kaden and Adam started talking at that curb side and ever since then they hadn't stopped talking but it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows for them. Kaden learned about his past and the type of person he used to be.

Adam was a player- a big time one, they found that out when they ran into his previous ex's Hannah and Jessa. Kaden made a snap judgement. 'don't fall in love with this guy.' Which of course ultimately failed but they never revealed it to him out of the sheer fear that he would turn them into a one and done.

Eventually Sackler admitted that he liked Kaden way more than a friend and Kaden tried their best to reject him but he knew that they liked him just as much if not more than he liked them.

Thus a relationship formed with the two. It didn't end well.

Kaden had trust issues from the get go and Sackler of course was pissed off whenever Kaden started to feel paranoid and that caused tension between them and Kaden made the decision that they shouldn't be together anymore.

During their break they remained friends, very close friends but there were moments of awkwardness. Adam hadn't moved on and secretly, neither did Kaden but they didn't want to get back with him, not when there was distrust.

Over the time of their new friendship(about a year and a half) Sackler stayed consistent, he really did reinvent himself. Kaden was worried that when they split up he would just go find someone else but he didn't. He did a lot of self reflecting and acknowledgement to all the shitty things he's done in the past and how much he had hurt others because he wasn't emotionally ready to take serious steps. Kaden was impressed.

Kaden didn't leap at the chance to get back with him though. They wanted to make sure he was being serious. Which to Kaden's surprise, he was.

One night they were walking down a familiar spot and Adam grinned running over to the side of street, sitting at the curb and patted the spot next to him to which Kaden followed and sat down. he remanences on the past.

"Remember you sat there, I sat here?"

"You said I looked ugly when I cried."

"Made you smile though."

They shared laughter and smiles about their past when Adam moved closer to them, he wrapped his arm around them, he kissed their cheek and spoke.

"I don't know if you'll ever trust me but I can't life without you, you know? You're allowed to feel what you feel and I'll always be here to remind you that I'm not the person I used to be. I'm not going anywhere. Friend or lover. You're stuck with me.. weither you feel the same or not... I love you"

Kaden lowering their head as Sackler embraced them, his head resting on their shoulder, they seen so much growth and change in him, they knew he wasn't that person who he used to be. They couldn't deny that he wasn't that person anymore.

"I love you too.. " Kaden ended up whispering, they refused to look at him and confessed that they never stopped loving him. They broke down and Adam made them look at him.

"You're pretty when you cry." he smiled "You're pretty when you smile.. and laugh.. you're pretty when you're sitting around doing nothing...you're just so pretty. Beautiful...."

Kaden's lips tugged into a smile and he closed the distance, sharing a kiss that felt brand new as they sat at the place where they first met.

"Happy birthday~" he hummed against their lips

From that day forward, they learned to communicate better, they had trust, friendship, love, he was their best friend and they were his rock, keeping him grounded when he needed it.

#[ugly sobbing] IDGAF if people aren't interested in this ship. It's been a long time coming and I adore this ship! that's all that matters!! #LORE LORE LORE LORE LORE ITS HAPPPEENNNINNNGGGGGGGGG <333 #I LOVE THIS SHIP ITS MESSY AND ROCKY AND THEY HAD TO LEARN AND GROW AND AHHHHHHHHHH #Sackler 💞 #I'M GOING TO WORK ON THE MOODBOARD FOR THE PLAYLIST NOW!!! AHHHHHH LDJFDSLFKJD #My favourite bad habit;

[july-19th-club]

me age seven being sat down in front of the school’s district child psych lady and being given strange, simple spatial puzzles to solve and then long, complicated worksheets and hammering my way through them at the speed of light while having zero comprehension what their purpose was or why i was here: this is urgent! i have to get a good grade in Weird Puzzles, Or Else, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve,

#kjalkjsdalkjasdl mrs button was a nice lady but not one adult in my childhood ever seemed to notice what to me now seems like #a pretty obvious case of the autisms #then again maybe they just didn't look as hard unless it was *really* obvious back then . it was like. what. 2000? a couple years later #everybody was talking about autism but not when i was six or seven then it was usually just when it was Very Visible #a couple years later my cousin who's more visibly on the spectrum than me got her diagnosis so young that she's pretty much always had it #which is...well i think it's just made her life difficult in a different way. people underestimate her or don't treat her like she's her age #but then she's always had the opportunity to get accommodations and people are sometimes more forgiving when she can't do something #whereas i got labeled 'kid that should be ahead of the game' from a pretty young age and then when i struggled adults either ignored it #or it was just a huge hassle to them and even i could see it exasperated them to have to work around me #but because mrs button (nice lady but what were you thinking) hadn't told them to treat me like a kid with a developmental disorder #they didn't do that in good OR bad ways . so i never got any accommodations with school stuff i struggled with which was a fair bit #i wasn't supposed to need extra testing time in a quiet room or tutoring with math or help organizing my abysmally scattered things #the only time i DID get that was in sixth grade when i was sort-of friends with this kid jonathan who was Very On The Spectrum #he wasn't really a talker unless it was about whatever he was reading which suited me fine so we just kind of existed in each other's space #and his TSS was this very smart and nice lady who had clearly clocked that Something Was Going On With Me and even though it wasn't like #her JOB she made a little bit of time for me. mostly with emotional stuff (i think i was under the impression she was a therapist?) #but if i had some problem with being unable to keep friends or being frozen out by the kids i wanted to be liked by (happened often) #she'd be able to just like. be there she'd make the time . wish i could remember her name

[fangisms]

hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific

darling socialite

A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words

Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)

Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.

Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.

"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"

Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"

"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."

"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"

"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"

"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.

"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"

Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.

If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.

You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.

It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."

"What are you talking about, P?" you say.

"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"

"Thanks, Pansy," you say.

"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"

You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.

…

There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.

"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.

"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"

"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"

"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."

Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.

And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.

"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.

"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.

"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"

Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.

"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."

You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.

"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."

It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.

"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"

He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.

“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.

“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.

“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”

He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.

“Like that?” he says.

“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”

He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”

“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”

masterlist

#theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott fluff #theodore nott fluff #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #fluff #fanfic #hp universe #x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #x fem!reader #theo nott x fem!reader #friends to lovers

[mirohlayo]

LITTLE SPOON

( Lando is always the big spoon, so you decided to reverse the roles. )

warning : fluff and fluff and fluff

note : lando who says he never tried to be the little spoon in the chicken shop date video gave me this absolutely cute idea 🥹

word count : 1.3k

It was a pretty busy and stressful day for Lando. Free practice on the Australian circuit was very intense. Despite the fact that these tests went rather well, the fact remains that the curly-haired driver had only been waiting for one thing since this morning: to rest with his girlfriend in his arms.

This day exhausted Lando to the point where he couldn't think of anything other than throwing himself on you and cuddling you until you fell asleep, in each other's arms. The only thing he needs now is to see your pretty face and snuggle up to you.

So, while you were lying on the large double bed that reigned in your hotel room, you absentmindedly watched the television hanging on the wall opposite. You stayed almost all day in the paddock, and more particularly in the garage to support your boyfriend. But the fatigue was much more present and Lando encouraged you to rest at the hotel.

You waited patiently for your lover, because you too knew that he desired your presence just as much as you desired his. And in a fairly short space of time, you see your favorite driver suddenly appear in front of you, leaning against the door frame.

He can't help but smile at the sight of you. He missed seeing your pretty face, and your magnificent smile that you currently wear on your lips. You're just adorable and Lando only wants to cover your face with thousands of kisses.

“Hey baby” He approaches the bed, to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “How did the free practice sessions go?” You ask him curiously, but instead of receiving an answer he places another kiss on your cheek. "I don't want to talk about that. My beautiful girl is here just for me so I want to focus all my attention on her".

He smiles at you like a child, before changing into more comfortable clothes. He then comes back to you again, and without further delay he jumps into bed to take you in his arms. However, you intercept his gesture and step back, leaving him with his arms wide open, empty without the presence of your body.

He frowns, somewhat hurt by your gesture. You give him a comforting smile, before opening your arms too. “Now it’s your turn to be the little spoon.” You nod for him to come and snuggle against your body, but he continues to display a perplexed expression.

"No, I've always been the big spoon. I've never been the little spoon so why should I be now?" He tries to convince you to keep your usual roles, namely you in his arms while he comes to hold you tightly against his chest.

You widen your eyes, surprised. "What? You've never tried to be the little spoon before?" You ask quite surprised. He shakes his head no. "I've always played the role of the big spoon. I prefer it." It's your turn to frown now. "Well it's the perfect time to switch roles. I'm going to be the big spoon and you the little one, okay?"

Lando remains skeptical for a moment, preoccupied with the idea of being the little spoon. He loves having you safe and warm in his arms, being able to hold you a little tighter every minute against him, being able to admire your face as you relax in his embrace. If he becomes the little spoon, he won't be able to do that.

Finally, he shakes his head and leans back, crossing his arms. "No. If I was the little spoon I wouldn't be able to have you in my arms, and I don't like that." You have the impression of seeing him pout and this vision makes you smile stupidly. However, you roll your eyes, exhausted by his perhaps a little too dramatic reactions.

"Baby, if you don't try to be the little spoon you'll never know what it's like to be one. I assure you the feeling is so good, you should really try." You try to make your softest eyes at him to convince him to change his mind. “You could at least do that for your girlfriend right?” You look at him begging.

He stares at you with narrowed eyes, still somewhat skeptical. But your puppy dog face and your desire to hold him are too much for him. He can't resist his girl's desires, because after all, you're the priority and he can never say no to the person he loves most in the world.

He sighs before letting go. “Okay, I can try being the little spoon.” You jump with joy and excitement as he rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. You lay back down on the mattress and open your arms again, now forcing him to come into your embrace.

He smiles mischievously at you before finally collapsing into your arms, trying to snuggle as close to your body as he can. Your arms come around and hug him tightly against your body, while he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. His curls tickle the skin of your neck, while you let out some giggle.

After finally finding the most comfortable position, you feel your boyfriend relax in your arms, randomly placing a few kisses in the crook of your neck or on your shoulders. You play with his hair, wrapping a few curls around your finger or lightly pulling on it to make it bounce.

He lets out a small groan of pleasure, nestling a little closer against you, as you gently caress his back. You lower your head to admire him. He really seems like a helpless child, who just needs love and comfort. It's just adorable.

You giggle, which makes him raise his head to look into yours with his beautiful gaze. "What ?" He asks, completely lost. You hold back another laugh. "Nothing. You're just really adorable and cute, baby" He blushes violently at your words, as he nuzzles his head against your neck again to hide his pink cheeks. "C'mon, you don't need to hide. You know I like it when you blush"

He groans again before lifting his head to return his gaze to your face. You place a kiss on his cheek, while his eyes narrow, a sign that he is smiling. “So, do you prefer to be the little spoon or the big spoon ?” You finally ask. He pauses, taking time to think.

"Hmm... The big one. I like feeling you safe and warm in my arms. And what's more, I can admire the beauty of my baby" You raised your eyebrows slightly. “So you don’t like being the little spoon?” "That's not what I said" He said in defense, before diving his head back against your neck.

You end up falling asleep in each other's arms, Lando comfortably ensconced in your embrace as he smiles at the touch of your hand stroking his back and the other coming to play with his hair.

However, what you won't know is that he secretly admits that he loves being the little spoon. To feel your arms around him, to smell your sweet perfume, to feel your gentle caresses and your hands in his hair, to simply feel loved and safe in your arms. He'll never admit it but he loves this feeling more than anything in the world.

So after this day, this change of role, you will find him becoming the little spoon much more often than you thought. He will no longer be able to stop himself from coming to snuggle up against you, from nestling his head in the crook of your neck and leaving hundreds of kisses there, because after all there is no doubt about it : he secretly prefers be the little spoon.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 imagine #lando norris fluff

[krakensdottir]

The idea of Crowley previously being a very powerful angel and still carrying around shards of that power is just so delicious to me. I'm a sucker for characters who aren't at all what they used to be. Underdogs who were obviously once a Big Deal, and you can't see it most of the time, until some improbable bit of classified knowledge or mention of higher connections leaks out. Especially if they really don't like to talk about it or dwell on who they were, if for one reason or another, they want to leave it all in the past.

I have had a feeling about Crowley since season 1. His position on Hell's hierarchy is relatively low, so it's not immediately apparent at first. But things stood out. How he bends reality to his will without seeming to even think about it, sometimes even without realizing. He decides it would be funnier if the paint guns were real guns, but also makes sure no one actually gets shot. This seems to take no effort or concentration on his part; it's done almost offhandedly. Or how he drives the Bentley through a wall of fire, keeping it from falling apart by sheer determination, while the much higher-ranking demon in the seat next to him is discorporated in seconds. Almost as impressive is how he negotiates London traffic, which from what I've heard is a borderline miraculous feat normally, let alone at 90 miles per hour.

And of course, the time stopping. Something even Aziraphale apparently isn't capable of. Something that, with a particularly fierce effort, literally stops Satan in his tracks. The sort of power wielded by a cosmic engineer who once needed it to do his job - 'I helped build that one,' he says, eyes a little distant as stares at a picture of a nebula - and he still carries it with him, skulking around on Earth, far from the cosmos he helped to create. Having let go of most of the rest, even the memories of it, burying them with the person he used to be. He's changed who he is but he can't change what he is, and if you cracked open that lowly serpent, you'd be blinded by the starlight within.

#good omens #crowley

[ddejavvu]

spencer x bau!reader my beloved <333

they're out on some case and they're all just throwing out ideas (yk how they do before they have a breakthrough and solve the case?) and reader says some weird fact and spencer cant help but just break professionalism and kiss her bc it is SO HOT that she knew that and he is so impressed that she knew that 🤭🤭

Spencer's drawn out of his contemplative stupor at the sound of your voice, rough and heated and tight, "No, Derek, that's not true! It's a common misconception, but a dangerous one!"

He glances over at Derek's face, jaw tense at the frustration of being wrong, then back to you, your passion tangible as you explain the proper facts of Derek's incorrect assumption. It's a statistic that shouldn't be appealing to Spencer, even out of your mouth, because it includes terms like enucleator, and cannibalism, but when you turn to him, breath slightly heaving after your mouthful of words, and raise a brow, "Spencer?" at him for confirmation, he can't help himself.

He's fairly certain that you'd asked him for backup, for a fact-check to prove Derek wrong, but in the moment all he can do is grab your face, and yank you forwards in your rolling chair to kiss you.

You let out a muffled yelp as his lips meet yours and he feels your tense muscles stay that way as he holds your jaw, but it's over as soon as he clears his head. All he does is smash his lips to yours, then withdraw, face lax as he watches you fluster.

He belatedly registers Hotch's stern, "Reid," as well as a scoff from Rossi and various other whoops and titters from the team, but the sound he cares about the most comes from your throat, a soft, barely-audible whine.

"Sorry," He excuses himself calmly, letting go of your face and tucking his hands beneath his thighs on the chair, "Yes, Y/N, that's correct."

"Okay." You breathe, head still spinning from the unexpected strength he'd displayed, "Uh- okay, thanks... for- thanks."

Penelope is, perhaps, the least collected person in the room, pink-painted mouth still agape as she stares between the two of you.

Before Hotch can move the conversation along she stammers, "But I- I say smart stuff all the time." She turns a narrowed glare upon Derek, "You never do that to me."

Derek throws his hands up to placate her but your attention is stolen by Rossi this time, who regards Spencer with an expression that looks to be part amusement and part disgust.

"Everything I say is smart, too," He pays little mind to the way that JJ scoffs at his declaration, "But Reid, if you ever do that to me, I'm bribing Strauss to fire you."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

[erwinsvow]

drunk rafe nd shy!reader talking when he starts telling her all about his dark twisted plans of marrying her and getting her pregnant, that she’s going to be his forever. <3

"you need to sleep, rafey," you hum, trying to keep your boyfriend upright while you get him inside tannyhill.

topper had been sweet enough to drop the two of you off before heading home, knowing that you would have trouble driving rafe's truck. you had to remember to thank him tomorrow, maybe bake him some brownies, since you remembered those were his favorite last time you made them.

"wha' i need is you-" he slurs back, and you giggle. rafe never gets drunk like this, and he's usually always composed. the extra shots at the end did him in—the boys were celebrating something that didn't make much sense to you.

"what you need is an advil and some water. and greasy food tomorrow morning, don't worry, i'll make some for you."

"i know y'will." you try to sneak in, remaining as quiet as you can while you guide rafe up the stairs. you're sure everyone's asleep and though rafe's family seemed to really like you, you don't want to make a bad impression. rafe's being loud, and you pray no one wakes up while you get him into his bedroom.

finally finishing the journey up the staircase, rafe gets on his bed, struggling to untie his laces. you can't help your smile, the laugh spilling out. you never get to see him like this.

you hurry over, dropping down and taking the laces into your hands, untying them quickly. rafe kicks off his shoes and sits up on the bed, opening his arms to you. you know you should go and find the bottle of advil, but you can't resist, crawling into his lap and steadying yourself by holding onto his arms. he looks right into your eyes, something that always makes your face burn.

"you're a real good girl, y'know that?" rafe says, words a little less slurred. you smile and nod gently, at a loss for words. rafe's hand comes up to touch your jawline, holding you there a little tightly, but not painful at all. "really. mean it. you're so perfect."

"rafe-" you protest quietly, entire body flushing with a wave of heat. you're used to all kinds of praise for him, it's really commonplace for the two of you, but this feels different—feels more intimate, maybe because you know he's in the state of mind that makes you say everything you're thinking.

"no, i mean it. you're perfect for me. you always listen, always do what i say. how'd you get like that, hm?"

"i don't know," you mumble. he's drunk, so you think he won't remember. "you bring it out in me."

"good. you're so good." you smile, resting your head against his shoulder, eyes shutting while you inhale his scent. "m'gonna marry you as soon as i fuckin' can." your eyes shoot open, a laugh bubbling to the surface.

"rafe-"

"no, really. maybe i should knock you up now, make sure no one gives us any problems."

you pick your head up, looking back at your boyfriend. he seems to be in his own world, lost in his thoughts.

"that sounds good. knock you up and then marry you, and then it'll jus' be me you and the kids forever. that's right. perfect. gotta get on that." you listen with wide eyes and parted lips. even in his drunken state, he wonders if he scared you this time.

"promise?"

#is this the best prompt ive ever received?? yes #i love you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader

[earthtooz]

cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain

my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...

he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.

you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.

aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.

you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.

a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.

during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.

ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.

your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.

the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.

"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.

"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.

"make haste, then," he urges.

during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.

despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.

(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)

he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.

but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.

it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.

ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.

perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.

and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.

he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.

when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.

you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ earf's ideas that i'll never write #earthtooz: honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr. ratio x reader