#because of course he has a bunch of these things
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𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍?
pairing: gojo, geto, choso, and toji x fem!reader (separate)
summary: celeb!au where the boys are interviewed and asked a pretty personal question ! (I took nanami out bc I don't think he would want to share your business with the world)
content: kinda suggestive, established relationships, allusions to sexual themes, mentions of dacryphyilia in toji's, pet names, cursing, celebrity!au (model, singer, actor, etc)
wc: 1.4k
♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
"Yes, yes! Thank you for joining us today, Gojo-san. All of your fans are excited to see you play the new lead role in this upcoming movie!" For the past hour Gojo has been answering questions many of his fans have with an interviewer who has gathered some of the most asked questions.
"Next question!" The women exclaims excitedly, when she reads the card she pauses in shock, "Um.. who put this card in there...?" Now the white haired actor was curious.
"Well, what does it say? I'm sure it can't be that bad." His cocky attitude is showing, but a huge percentage of his fans like when he's like this. It makes fantasizing him all the more creative and exciting; or so you hear.
"Uh...uh. Um-" She remembers the camera is rolling, and this is live TV. "Many fans know you have a girlfriend and a lot of them want to ask,
"What is your favorite position?"
Gojo knew his PR team would probably get on his ass for answering this question instead of moving on to a different one but he doesn't care- at all.
"This is a tough one... hm. I guess if I had to choose I'd say cowgirl. I love the way she rides," he pauses for a second before continuing with excitement, "She's hella good at it too! Every time I watch her bounce on it my eyes about roll to the back of my-"
"OKAY. Thank you, Mr. Gojo!" She interrupts, quickly turning to the camera with a very forced smile.
"There you have it! We'll be back after a brief commercial break!"
♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
Your boyfriend, Suguru, started a podcast about his music life with his band mates two years ago. Since his group already had quite a huge fan base, it was no surprise they took to their podcast with excitement.
Usually the group would talk about funny backstage stories or moments where their performances were almost ruined. Today they're doing a Q&A, the questions that are most asked will be answered first, while less popular questions will be answered later.
"Oh shit, people wanna know Suguru." He quirks an eyebrow, the raven haired male leans his mic towards his lips so the people can hear his voice.
"Know what?" A sly smirk forms on his face because he knows there could be at least a million things 'the people wanna know.'
"They wanna know what's your favorite position to have your girl in." The lead singer snickers whilst asking the question. Suguru clicks his tongue and taps on the desk a few times.
"I really like to have her legs behind her head cuz I can reach really deep that way."
"Sooo, mating press?" Their lead singer is just as nosy as their fans so of course he's gonna press on.
"Hell yeah, man." Some of them clap and others laugh at Suguru's openness.
-----
You were really busy but you decided to tune into your boyfriend's podcast after a bunch of people tagged you on twitter to go listen to today's episode.
When you hear Suguru tell all 2 million of his podcast listeners what position he likes to fuck you in, you scream into your pillow and turn into a giggling mess.
He never knows how to keep his mouth shut, and you love it.
♡ 𝐂. 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
You're laying on your boyfriend's bed listening to him play his game. Choso's a big time streamer at this point. Four years ago when he started his fan base was quite small and he just enjoyed the few who would join his gaming streams. Now, Choso streams as work and he still loves it just as much as he had long ago.
"Thank you for the tip 'prettyem0b0y22'," Usually Choso reads aloud whatever message they leave with their tips but he hesitates this time.
"Uh- you don't really expect me to answer that, right? She's laying on the bed right now."
That statement immediately grabs your attention, you glance at his monitor screens, trying to get a peek at whatever his fan was asking of him.
It seems plenty of others want to know the answer to this question too because the chat starts speeding up, meaning that they're spamming.
"Guys come on, I'll turn chat off if you guys don't stop." Choso is as scary as a cute little kitten, so they just keep at it, and now you're curious too. What could possibly be that bad that he didn't want to answer it and to be fair he has answered some pretty crazy questions before.
"Indulge me Cho, what did 'prettyem0b0y22' wanna know?" His head swings so fast he could have gotten whiplash from it. His cheeks are burning pink and his brows furrow in confusion.
"I promise it wasn't anything crazy, don't worry about it." Oh, you're worrying about it alright. His strange behavior prompts you to spring up off the bed and walk your way over to his desk.
Instead of just taking a quick look at the chat, you make yourself comfortable in your boyfriend's lap. Obviously the chat goes absolutely crazy when they see you make this gesture. Choso is no doubt embarrassed but he slings an arm around your waist anyway.
"So what was the question he couldn't answer in front of me?" Prettyem0b0y22 wastes no time sending another hefty tip.
"I asked him what's his fav postion with you." When you read the whole thing aloud some giggles leave your lips.
"He likes when I ride him while facing him. For what reason? He's a titty man." Choso gasps as you expose both of you. The risks are high, anyone, literally anyone could see this clip and think something about you, but you don't care. It's your body and his, people don't have power over how you two interact with each other.
The chat explodes with all kinds of things, most are shocked emojis, while others are spamming the cherry emoji. Luckily, Choso's moderator team puts slow chat on and does a few other precautions to settle the situation.
"Baby- I- what if your family sees this? Or worse your boss?!" His concern is absolutely adorable.
"Well I guess I'd have to start a streaming channel of my own?" Everyone in his chat is totally on board with that idea. They've seen you play for Choso before and they think your commentary on games is quite funny.
"I don't want you to lose your job though." This time he whines in pure worry.
"I won't, baby. It'll be alright. Don't overthink it."
♡ 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
Toji's got what people want to see in model catalogs and magazines. The slutty waist, the well defined but not too defined muscles, his beautiful eyes and long lashes. Toji is a picture perfect model, which is what landed him his modeling gig and even a whole career a few years later.
A journalist, who's particularly interested in his dating life more than his modeling career asks him a bunch of dating related questions.
Some have speculated that Toji was dating, but he neither confirmed nor denied those allegations. You and Toji agreed to keep your relationship on the down low, because having a bunch of strangers in your personal business was not desirable.
The journalist woman words the questions in a way of inference.
"Assuming you had a girlfriend, Fushiguro-sama. What would your favorite position in bed be?" At first Toji groans but then when he registers the question he decides he'll answer it hypothetically when in reality it is something he likes to do with you.
"Hypothetically speaking, if I had a girlfriend my favorite position with her would be missionary, because I'd want to look at her pretty face when she's cryin' on my cock." The journalist writes that down, Toji knows everything he says will be censored but the people will still be able to figure it out.
"Missionary, really? Many people online have guessed you were a doggy-style kind of guy. Based off of your twitter statement that said and I quote 'Love it when her ass is phat. Love squeezing that thing.' End quote"
Toji lets out a deep laugh before answering the woman, "Doggy-style is for people I don't care about, people I don't want to look at, my girl- if I had a girl, she wouldn't be just any fuck."
More theories start to surface after Toji's slip up of words, and that's okay, because they don't know you and you don't know them.
divider: @/plutism
#𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒#✩ jjk post#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader smut#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo smut#geto x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto smut#choso x reader#choso kamo x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji smut
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I have a Dom/sub AU and I drew a bunch of nonsense sketches for it. Idea is basic, but Laios is a sub who is looking for his first serious Dom (as opposed to is current style, which is occasionally casually playing with his friends) and one friend recommends and introduces him to Chilchuck
Chilchuck has been acting as a Dom in the local community since he split from his wife, and he has a few subs he plays with, but they're mostly half-foot women. He has kind of a Thing against Domming other races though because of the general discrimination, but after meeting Laios he decides to give him a shot because Laios isn't acting like a weirdo about Chilchuck's size and expected authority
Then they agree to terms and contracts (of course Chilchuck has literal contracts about it) and now I can draw or write them doing whatever kinky scenarios I feel like
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What Happens in Cars, Stays in Cars
dbf!jake seresin x fem!reader
9k words
summary: After a month-long deployment, Jake is finally coming back home. Well, not home home. You're too desperate to wait until you've actually got him home. But who needs home when there's a perfectly good car anyway?
a/n: porn with plot. a lot of plot. and a lot of porn. 18+ obviously. reader is twenty-five in this, jake is forty-seven. as always, a list of things to watch out for:
nudes. mentions of masturbation. pet names used in an unholy way. the word 'brat' is dropped twice. safe sex (yess they still have a condom!!! i feel like i deserve a round of applause for not forgetting it). car sex, so a tiny smidge of exhibitionism. dom!jake. a lot of begging, as always. a tad bit dry humping. first finger sucking, then fingering. any more, uh....? i don't think so. there's not much space in a car for anything else.
top gun masterlist | dbf!jake seresin masterlist
(the gif has nothing at all to do with the fic, but tell me that's not dbf!jake working out in his backyard knowing you're watching him istg)
It's a one time thing. That's what they told him. A one time thing.
He isn't supposed to do these anymore. He's supposed to be stationed permanently, sitting in his office and doing what an admiral does. Important work, surely. It's a high honour and he's proud, of course. But office work... Office work has never really been his thing. And if they'd deployed him for this mission four months earlier, he would've been thrilled.
He's the best of the best. The navy knows. He knows. Which is why he's an admiral by now. And also why they want him coaching the new hotshots for a month, halfway across the country.
And, yes, he would've been thrilled - four months ago.
Four months ago, when you'd not yet moved back home. Four months ago, when he hadn't yet met you. Four months ago, when he hadn't known what it was like to hold you, to touch you, to miss you.
His phone chimes and momentarily distracts him. It's not that he didn't mute it - he's standing in front of a bunch of twenty-something year olds who he does try to be a role model for - it's just that you'd tampered with it once and ever since then, you've had a personalised ringtone that still somehow works even when everything else is muted. (He could totally turn that off if he wanted to, though. Definitely. Ab-so-lu-tely. He just... doesn't.)
His jaw clenches and he has to restart his sentence, but other than that, he manages to pretend nothing happened. Nonetheless, he has to glare at the snickering wannabe-pilots in the first row, who remind him very much of a young version of himself.
You're three hours ahead of him and probably just got off work. It's likely nothing but a sweet "having a good day?" message or maybe a photo of you all dressed up, ready for dinner with your friends like you'd planned.
Either way, knowing your message is sitting unopened in your chat has him talking quicker. He finishes his lecture half an hour early and fishes his phone from his pocket before the first of his pupils have even got up from their seats - which turns out to be a horrible, horrible idea, because the photo attached to "don't know how long i'll stay out, have a nice night, admiral" with the winky face emoji is not one of you all dressed up for a night out with your friends, but one of you in just a pair of panties in front of the mirror. The mirror in his bedroom.
Fucking god-
He seems to let out some kind of choked up groan or something of the sort, because a few of his pilots turn to look back at him. One even has the audacity to ask if he's alright, which he certainly isn't. But that's absolutely not their problem.
So he grumbles something about how they should all use their free time to go to the gym instead of bothering him before he collects his things and flees to his room. One of the many advantages of being an admiral, of course, is that he doesn't have to bunk anymore, which is always the greatest nuisance for anybody who's ever looking for privacy. The times he's had to listen to guys jack off a foot away from him- fuck, the times they'd had to listen to him.
No, right now he is incredibly thankful for the privacy of his bedroom as he locks the door behind him and opens his phone again. Goddamn, why were you in his house? His fingers hover over the call button for a few seconds, but then he decides against it - you're going out with friends for the first time in months, he doesn't want to bother you.
He's popping the button of his jeans and sitting down on his bed right as you come online.
"Like the pictures, baby? I've got more"
And before he can even respond, you've sent a bunch more selfies, half of them in front of his mirror, the other half on his bed and none of them decently clothed. Fucking hell, in one you've got your fingers down your panties and Jake is really thankful for the privacy of his room then because he groans so loudly that a bunkmate would definitely have heard.
"Are you still at dinner?", he asks, his fingers flying over his keyboard while he tugs at his zipper with his left hand.
"Yeah, won't be home soon", you write back. "Sorry"
"Don't be", Jake responds, as quickly as he can, because he definitely does not want to make you feel bad for spending time with your friends. "Have fun"
"Have fun with the pics", you send. Jake can picture your grin, sitting all dressed up in a restaurant and ignoring your friends to text him. "Thought those could maybe make up for no phone call tonight"
He swallows hard as you log off, leaving him with those pretty pictures of yours that certainly improve his night by a lot. Hell, he's already moving his briefs out of the way and clicking on your photos again. Just seeing you half-naked in his room - fuck, the thought of you sneaking over there only to do a goddamn photoshoot... You're really unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. And he can't wait to get back home to you.
...
"I miss you", you mumble into the phone, blinking at the alarm clock on your nightstand. It's eleven thirty, not nearly late enough for you to feel as exhausted as you do.
"I miss you too, darling", you hear Jake drawl on the other end of the call. "I'll be back soon."
"Not soon enough", you whine - god, you sound pathetic and miserable to your own ears already, you must sound ten times worse to him. You let yourself fall back into your pillows and let out a deep sigh. "Would it be rude to say I hope the mission gets cancelled?"
Jake chuckles. Fucking hell, you miss that chuckle so much. You miss him so much. You miss cuddling up to him under the covers and tucking your head under his chin. You miss running your fingers through his hair and having your hands on him. You miss seeing him, standing in the kitchen or working out or tinkering in the backyard or fresh out of the shower. Shit, you even miss sneaking around with him, because at least then you'd gotten to watch him from a distance, maybe steal a kiss when your parents hadn't been looking or spend an night at his house pretending to be at your friend's.
Now he's halfway across the country and absolutely, completely out of reach. You'd barely gotten to see him at all - twice it had worked out to video-call during a lunch break, once he'd even managed to virtually show you around his office after work. The camera quality is hardly any good, of course, which means video-calls aren't all that great, plus the connection never seems to really be stable, so with a few exceptions, you've only seen Jake in pictures over the past two and a half weeks.
His deployment would take another one and a half and then, finally, he'd be back home. Back home with you.
"I won't answer that", Jake says, and you can almost hear him grin. "But I wouldn't mind either if they moved the mission up."
You have to bite down on your lip to hide a smile.
"So you think you're good to go?", you ask softly, not wanting to bring the mood down further, instead opting for the non-classified work questions. You've already been bringing down the mood enough back here at home - you don't need to fill the few minutes a day you get with Jake with your whining as well. Your parents already hear enough of that. Of course, they don't know why you've been in such a bad mood ever since Jake left. And they can't know, either. You can't tell them. You can't tell anyone.
You can't tell anyone because no one knows that you've been sneaking around with your dad's best friend for the past three months. So you resign yourself to moping around and keeping out of everybody's way as much as you can. For one and a half weeks more, one and a half...
...
Exactly one and a half week later you're standing at the airport in your best heels and a little yellow sundress and are positively buzzing with nervous energy. Jake's plane got in at half, he'd said, when you'd last spoken him six hours earlier. Then the plane had taken off and so had his wifi.
You're playing around with a strand of your hair and doing your hardest not to start chewing off your nails, which proves more difficult than you'd thought (even though you'd put on nail polish).
You're just so excited.
It's been a month since you'd last seen him. A month. And at the early stage of your... relationship, if you could call it that, that's basically half a year. God, how long it's been since you've run your hands through his hair, since you've felt his arms around you.
You miss him so much.
Your phone chimes and you fish it out of your pocket with trembling hands, only to be disappointed when it's not a message from Jake. It's not like you'd told him to text when he'd landed, just... A part of you is kind of scared you're waiting in the wrong place. Maybe he's on the other end of the airport - it's not a particularly small one. It'd take you hours to find each other if you were waiting in the wrong place.
Then again - maybe the plane is late. Maybe he's had to wait for his luggage.
You check the time, just to be safe. It's 11:46. For all you know, Jake is still in the air. Or less than a door away.
You bounce on your feet, nervously shifting back and forth before checking your phone again. The text you'd gotten is from one of your friends, who you text back only to distract you. It barely works anyway. You can't put it away again quickly enough.
It's not even that you don't want to distract yourself. You just physically can't pay attention. You've been a nervous wreck for the past three days, ever since you'd made the plan to pick him up from the airport. Which is probably why you almost don't spot him.
Almost.
He walks through the opened doors with his suitcase rolling behind him, his backpack slung over his shoulder and at least five other people rushing past him.
He sees you before you see him.
But then, then when you see him-
You're already sprinting towards him before your mind even tells your legs to move. You can't control it and you can't be bothered to. Why would you?
You don't care about the people glancing at you with raised eyebrows. You only care about Jake, about Jake who's standing there, pulling his hand from the handle of his suitcase and grinning at you. Grinning at you as you run at him and throw yourself into his arms.
He catches you effortlessly and steadies you as you cross your hands behind his neck and press your lips to his.
God, how you've missed him! How long you haven't kissed him!
His palms flatten against your back and he holds you tight, so tightly to him. You push even closer. He's here. He's back.
You don't realise you're crying until you taste the tears.
That's when Jake pulls back.
"I've missed you", he mutters, raising a hand and brushing the tears off your cheeks. You lean into the touch and tighten your arms around his neck. You're really touching him. He's really here.
"I missed you too", you try to say, but you're choked up and crying and it somehow comes out a blubbering, stuttering mess that you're not quite sure Jake can even understand. "Missed you so much."
He smiles one of those gorgeous smiles that you haven't seen in far too long before he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed as you lean into him, your fingers trailing up the nape of his neck. His breath mingles with yours as he draws you in again and catches you in another kiss, tugging gently at your bottom lip as if he has all the time in the world to do it - slow and languid and real. Finally real again.
He pulls you in by your waist, his hands splayed wide and so, so big against your thin sundress. Your nails scratch against his neck and he lets out a groan and suddenly, he's got his hands on your thighs and you're wrapping your legs around his middle and tightening your arms around him and his lips are working against yours feverishly, heavily, messily. You're crossing your feet behind his back when one of them hits something hard. You've flinched away from him even before you can hear the dull crash of his suitcase kissing the airport floor.
There's blood rushing in your ears and you're sure if someone measured your heart rate right now, you'd be sent to the ER immediately. You probably look like a tomato with all the redness in your cheeks. But Jake stares at his suitcase silently for two seconds too, breathing heavily as his grip on you tightens further.
As much as he likes having you in his arms, his suitcase reminds him that you're still very much in the middle of a well-used airport. So he turns back to you and lowers his voice.
"I think we should get out of here, darling."
Your lips tug up into a grin and you lean in to give him just one last, quick kiss.
"Yeah", you breathe, carefully jumping back down onto your own feet. Jake lets go of you only reluctantly - if this wasn't a public airport, he'd never have let you go again. But it is, so he swallows hard as you brush your palms down your dress and blink up at him with a smile.
You're wearing heels. You're still shorter than him by quite a bit.
His amusement melts into a frown when you grab the handle of his suitcase.
"I've got that", he says, reaching his hand out to take the suitcase from you, but you're already maneuvering it away from him and starting to walk in the direction (you think it's the right direction) you'd parked your car in.
"I want to do it for you", you hum.
"Sweetheart, you're already doing enough for me", he says, and he really does mean it. You've driven all this way to come pick him up, you'd watered his plants while he'd been away, you'd even cleaned. That one mostly because you'd desperately needed something to do and Jake's house had always smelled like him, but still.
"Doing enough to you, you mean." Your grin borders on lewd as you dig your teeth into your lip.
"Yeah, that too", he sighs, but he has to grin as well. You're absolutely unbelievable. Instead of trying to argue (he knows it'd be fruitless anyway), he wraps an arm around your back and pulls you into his side, his hand resting on your waist again.
You glance at him.
"I'm not letting go of this suitcase", you warn, even as you lean into his side and swallow. God, he looks so good. And he smells so good. And he feels so good.
"Got it", he chuckles, brushing a kiss to your temple and pulling you even closer into him. He can't have you close enough. Does this fucking airport not have an end? He just needs a little more privacy, a little more space-
"This way", you say and point right. Jake smiles at you as you guide him down the halls. He can't help but watch, can't help but stare at you, at your dress in that soft shade of yellow and your matching heels. Autumn doesn't seem to have caught up with you yet. Then again - autumn hasn't caught up with this place yet. And he's used to Texas heat, he likes that it doesn't get cold here. Also, those sundresses... Yeah, he certainly isn't complaining about the weather.
You speed up when you finally catch sight of the doors, dragging him along with you, almost falling into a jog. The suitcase rumbles against the airport floor, the wheels click-clacking over uneven ridges and bumps and then, thank god, you feel the sunshine on your skin. His hand tightens around your waist.
"Home sweet home", you grin as you take the first step onto concrete. You swivel around and steady both palms against the handle of his suitcase behind your back, bouncing on your heels and looking up at him. "After about a three hour drive."
Jake chuckles and looks back at you with raised eyebrows.
"You'll drive?", he asks. You hum.
"Maybe", you grin as you turn away again and walk over to your car, parked only three rows away for whatever holy reason. You'd been incredibly lucky. And you'd almost run over a grandma. "Or maybe not."
Jake follows you with another low chuckle that sends a pleasant tingling sensation down your spine. It's been so long since you heard that chuckle behind you.
He's next to you again within a few long strides, reaching out for you and you slow your steps to intertwine your fingers with his.
His hands are so big. He's holding onto you so firmly. Fuck, you've missed him so much.
You squeeze his hand and walk a little quicker. Car, home. Car, home. That's it. Then you've got him all to yourself. You can see the car glinting in the sunlight already - and then it's three hours. Three hours next to him in an enclosed space before you've truly got him back.
You stop and let go of his suitcase to fish the car keys out of your pocket without dropping his hand. You push the unlock button and open up the trunk before you turn to Jake and grin at him.
You want to say something, really. It's on the tip of your tongue, still running through your mind, but you've completely forgotten it when you look up at him.
Because while you'd been dragging him to the car, he'd pulled his sunglasses out and put them on and for whatever reason... That kind of does it for you. Holy shit.
"Are those new?", you ask hoarsely and swallow hard, the car keys digging into your palm as you tighten your fist around them. Maybe it's just that you haven't seen him in a month. Or maybe it's the way the sunlight catches his hair, slightly longer than when he'd left. Maybe it's just that with the sun behind him, you've got no choice but to squint at his broad shoulders.
"The other pair broke", Jake explains, letting go of your hand only to wrap his arms around your waist. Fuck, you're just standing there, doing absolutely nothing and he already can't keep from touching you. He has to touch you. He's got to put his arms around you and pull you close. "Why? Don't like it?"
You steady your palms against his chest and let out a breath as your eyes drop to his lips - he's got that cheeky look on his face that's not really a grin but not really not a grin and that nobody but him can do.
"I do", you counter, because it's the truth, and there's no way you can lie to him. "I very much do."
"Very much?" Jake does grin then, raises his eyebrows and pulls you fully against him. "That's more than just a yes."
Your fingers fist his shirt, the car keys digging into his chest just as firmly as they're digging into your palm now. He doesn't seem to be too bothered. He really isn't too bothered.
"They look good on you", you mutter, pulling him even closer. It's been too long since you'd pulled him close... And he feels so good, smells so good, looks so good. Fuck, he's so big and broad and-
"Thanks", he mutters, his grin all cheeky and self-assured and god, is it really this hot? Do you just feel this hot? Because you feel really, really hot. Your skin is burning. How the hell are you supposed to manage a three hour car ride?
"Jake", you whimper, without even meaning to. It's barely above a breath, barely above a whisper, and still too much of a whine to sound anything close to appropriate. A sort of grunt leaves his lips before his arms tighten around you, before he slots his mouth over yours hard. His thumbs drag circles against the small of your back, catching on the fabric of your dress. Your fingertips dig into his shirt, into his chest.
The sun beams down on you, warming your thighs and your arms and every exposed inch of skin, brightness behind closed eyelids as you push further and further into him. He's so sturdy, all hard abs right in front of you, broad arms around you.
You don't even notice the breathless moan that escapes your tongue. You can only feel the heat boiling inside of you, the desperate heat inside of you crawling up your body, every inch of you burning. Burning with want for him. With need for him. Fuck, he's been gone for way too long.
And then he pulls back.
You need a few seconds to even blink yourself back to reality.
"Home?", he suggests, even though it's less of a suggestion and more just a fact. He's getting you home. Now.
"Please", you whine, already halfway through pulling back and dropping the car keys into his palm. Three hours. Three fucking hours, you... You simply won't manage to sit down behind the steering wheel with your skin crawling and your underwear soaked through.
You'll barely manage sitting in the passenger seat.
Jake presses another kiss against your temple before he grabs his suitcase and leaves you standing there, trying to pull yourself together. He's breathing hard and his muscles are tight, his jaw clenched as he heaves his suitcase into the trunk and drops his backpack into it right after.
You force your legs to work, to carry you to the passenger side, force your arm to raise and your hand to close around the handle. It's heavy and hard work. Your body feels leaden, entranced. You let yourself collapse onto the seat and close your eyes.
Fuck.
You'd forgotten how much... how easily...
"Seatbelt, darling", Jake reminds you as he climbs into the driver's seat and adjusts it. You swallow hard and strap yourself in, trying to even out your breathing and pull yourself back to reality while you fumble for the confirmative click.
"Three hours", you remind yourself breathily.
"Three hours", Jake agrees lowly and turns the key in the ignition.
You settle back in your seat and close your eyes, clenching and unclenching your jaw as the radio starts playing and the car rolls out of the parking lot. You just have to relax. Just relax. Relax.
So you breathe out deeply and open your eyes again. Jake glances over at you as you lean forward, flick through the radio channels and then adjust in your seat - it's touching too much, too little of your skin, and the way you're rubbing against it somehow doesn't help in the slightest.
Before you can tuck one of your legs under the other and press the heel of your foot against your core, Jake puts his hand against your thigh. Against your bare thigh. His big fucking hand against your bare thigh.
You bite down on your lip and look up at him.
God, he looks so good. His features are chiseled, his hair that sunny, beachy kind of blond-
"Stop that", Jake grunts, his eyes trained on the road in front of him. It takes you two seconds to even realise he's talking to you. You'd kind of lost yourself in staring at him there.
"Stop what?", you ask, voice hitching as his fingers tighten on your thigh. Damn it, he needs to stop that. He's hardly been driving five minutes, he can't already be teasing you.
For once, actually, he doesn't even mean to tease you - not that you know. He just can't help but touch you, not when he hasn't touched you in a month, not when you're sitting so deliciously, tauntingly next to him.
"Stop looking at me like that", he says, taking his hand off of you to change gears before grabbing even tighter onto you again. "Or I'll have to pull over."
You brush your fingers along his wrist. Your chest feels tight, so tight. It takes everything in you not to push his hand further up your thigh. And you'd actually thought you'd manage a three hour car ride.
"I'll stop", you breathe, even though pulling over doesn't seem like the worst idea. "If you want me to."
A muscle twitches in his jaw.
"Don't do that", he warns, his voice staggering into that indecent gruff of his that has you clenching your thighs together, trapping his fingertips between your legs.
"Don't do what?", you ask, trying your best to sound somewhat innocent while you continue this little taunting game, not as though you're deliberately riling him up. You aren't, really. It's more just a reflex.
He turns his head to you then. His eyes are narrowed and his jaw is clenched and honestly, the way he's meeting your gaze all serious, as though he's trying to reprimand you just by looking at you - for no more than five seconds, of course, before he drags his eyes back to the road - has your lips tugging up in a teasing grin.
"Jake", you whisper, drawing your nails slowly up his arm, all the way from his wrist to his elbow. "Baby. You've been away for so long. You know how lonely I've been, right?"
Jake glances at you again and grunts his agreement, eyebrows raising as he starts to realise what you're doing.
"You can't blame me for looking at you", you go on, digging your fingertips into a spot right above his elbow and drawing one, two circles there. "Or for touching you."
Then you shift in your seat, spread your legs a little and run your fingers down his arm again. You grab his hand and brush his fingertips against the soaked spot on your panties.
"Or for being this wet", you whisper, your breath hitching from the sting in your stomach. He lets out a low curse. "I've just missed you so much."
He sucks in a breath then and trails his fingertips up your panties once, just once, before he jerks his hand back and clenches it hard around the steering wheel, so hard that his knuckles turn wide. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! You're driving him crazy. You're driving him fucking crazy.
He's supposed to be responsible here. Somewhat responsible. You're young, you've got that risky twinkle in your eyes that he knows so well because he'd seen it in the mirror himself for over twenty years. He knows the thrilling buzz that's running through your veins. He still feels it whenever he's in the air. And he feels it around you.
Which is why he's not responsible, not when it comes to you. Not when you're sitting next to him in that pretty dress, with no shorts on and completely fucking soaked through.
You grin to yourself as he pulls off the highway and bite down on your lip, shifting in your seat once more, fighting the urge to trail your own fingers into your panties.
You haven't even asked how his deployment had been.
But goddamn, you'll have enough time to do that once you've got home. Or got off. Or got him off. At this point, you don't fucking care.
He pulls into one of those parking lots that mainly trucks use, one of those where there's hardly ever a toilet and if, then one that hasn't been usable since the last century. Right now, there's two trucks right at the front that Jake just brushes past. He parks your car at the far end and turns the motor off.
The silence is heavy.
Your breath comes much too quickly. Your eyes are fixed on him. And every inch of your skin is crawling with heat. But you don't move. You can't move.
He rolls his seat all the way back.
"Jake-", you whisper, catching on his name when he looks up and meets your eyes. There's a ghost of a grin on his lips, but... Maybe you're wrong.
"Yes, darling?", he asks, raising his eyebrows and leaning back in his seat. You have to strain your neck to keep looking at him. Instead of an answer, you just softly shake your head. You're suddenly unsure of what to say. His eyes weigh you down. You're painfully aware of every inch of your skin under his watchful gaze.
"Come on", he drawls, the grin that's growing on his lips more obvious now. "You were all eager to talk just then, baby."
Your teeth catch on your lip as you let out a breathless sigh. Your fingers hover over the buckle of your seat belt. Can you? Or...
"I missed you", you whisper, letting your fingertips glide over the hard plastic. "Can I-"
You swallow.
"Can you what, darling?", he repeats, grinning widely now.
You chew on your lip as you push down and unbuckle yourself slowly, your eyes still trained on Jake, who simply watches you with raised eyebrows.
"Can I touch you?", you whisper, your breath disappearing into the thick air of the car, the seatbelt still caught between your fingers. The corners of his mouth only tug up further.
You look angelic with your wide eyes and rosy cheeks, so obviously desperate to feel him - but still you don't move. You sit there and wait for him to tell you what to do. To allow you to do something. Anything. It's almost endearing how well behaved you are in moments like this.
"Go on, darling", he drawls. "Come here."
Without hesitation, you reach over the centre console and grab onto his shoulders, steadying yourself against him as you throw one of your legs over his and climb into his lap. His hands find your waist, grab onto your sides, hold you softly against him. Your teeth dig into your lip as you sink down, your fingers trailing along the outline of his collarbones over his shirt, your dress riding up and pooling around your hips. You suck in a breath when your panties drag against his jeans.
Fuck. It's been so long. It's been way too long.
"Jake", you mutter as you lean in, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, brushing your nose against his cheek. "You look good."
He lets out a breathy chuckle, his grip on you tightening.
"I know, darling", he can't help but say with a grin. "Thanks."
You giggle onto his skin as you trail your lips down his jaw. Sometimes he's incredibly unbelievable. I know. How cocky. Not that he shouldn't be - goddamn, he should be! You can't even fault him. And confidence is sexy. Especially on him. Though, then again, anything on him is sexy.
"I've missed you", you mutter, pressing another open-mouthed kiss against his skin, this time against the spot between his neck and his ear. "Missed looking at you. Missed touching you."
"Yeah", Jake breathes, digging his hands into your hips and pulling you harder onto him. "I've missed you too."
He's missed you so fucking much that he's hurting, straining against his jeans so hard that he feels like he might combust. And you're kissing down his throat, pressing your lips against his skin, wanting, needing to touch him, to feel him-
A month away from each other. A month too long.
"I need you, Jake", you whimper into his ear, all breathy and desperate, rocking softly back and forth in his lap and letting your eyes fall shut.
"You need me, baby?", he echoes, grabbing you as tightly as he can and dragging you against him, his head thumping back against the driver's seat.
A filthy moan slips past your lips as your hips roll against his, finally, for the first time in weeks. Fuck, yes, you need him so badly. You need him now. Here and now, in the passenger seat of your car.
"Please, Jake", you breathe, steadying one palm against his chest and grabbing one of his hands with the other. You wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug it off of you, but before you can drag it down to your panties again, drop it between your legs and beg him to fuck you, before you can do any of that, he's turning your grip around and taking your hands in his instead.
"You're getting ahead of yourself, baby", he chuckles, before settling your hands against your thighs. He's painfully hard by now, yes- But that doesn't mean you can just drag him to where you want him. "Seems like you forgot your manners."
You're already shaking your head before he can finish. No, you haven't, you haven't, you just need him so badly... and you can feel him, you can feel that he needs you too, so why doesn't he just take you? Why doesn't he-
"I haven't, Jake, I promise", you whisper, looking at him and forcing yourself to still on his lap. It won't help you if you move. It definitely won't help you if you move.
"You haven't?", he asks with raised eyebrows, looking all but amused at you. You keep shaking your head no, no, no. "So if I'd told you to stay in your seat and wait, you would've?"
You bite down on the inside of your cheek and look away. He's grinning. He knows. He's not even really asking. But if you'd learnt anything, anything at all about him, it's that he doesn't like to be ignored. If he asks a question, he wants it answered. So you'll answer.
"No", you breathe truthfully, because you most definitely wouldn't have managed a three hour car ride next to him. There's no way you would've managed a three hour car ride next to him. No fucking way.
His grin widens.
"No", he repeats lowly. "No, darling? You wouldn't have listened?"
"Couldn't", you correct, fighting the desire to rock against his thighs that's growing with every passing second. He looks so fucking good. He smells so fucking good. He feels so fucking good. And he'd fuck you so good, you know that, if he'd just finally get to it.
"Couldn't", he echoes, his fingertips rubbing circles onto the bare skin of your thighs. "That desperate."
It's just that he's that desperate, too. Desperate to feel you wrapped around him, desperate to hear you whimper and moan. He needs you as much as you need him.
"You want me to fuck you, baby?", he asks, all smooth and casual and your fingers dig into your thighs to feel something, anything. It's unbelievable how easily something so dirty slips off his lips.
"Yes", you gasp. "Want you so bad, Jake. Please. I'll be so good for you. I'll be perfect."
A muscle ticks in his jaw.
"You are perfect", he breathes, even though that hadn't been his plan at all. But he has to say it. He has to tell you. You've got him wrapped around your little finger, even if you don't know. And he's not all that sure you don't know anyway.
Your teeth catch on your lip, your hands dig harder into your skin and-
And Jake's thumbs trail along the inside of your bare thighs, brushing up naked skin, drawing a shallow breath from your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as you clench your legs around his and force yourself to keep still. He's touching you. You have to remind yourself of that. He is touching you. There's no reason at all for the urge to defy him, to pop open his jeans and just sink down on him. He's touching you, he's touching you...
Yeah. Barely.
"Let me feel you", you beg, drawing your hands away from your thighs and trying to put them against his chest - but before you can, he's pulled his hands away from your thighs as well and grabbed your wrists. Again.
"You're not in charge here, darling", he chuckles, pushing your hands back down. He grabs for your waist again. "If you can't behave, I'm gonna put you back in the passenger seat and keep on driving, got that?"
You nod.
You want to be good for him. You will be good for him. God, there's no fucking way you could have managed the car ride already, and if you had to sit through it now, after this- No. You'll be good for him. You'll be so good for him.
He flashes you a grin and goes back to dragging his thumbs along your thighs.
"Ask nicely", he says. "Maybe I'll-"
"Please", you blurt out, your hips involuntarily bucking into his touch. "Can I kiss you?"
His eyes drop down to your mouth then.
"Yeah, baby", he mutters, his thumbs catching on the hem of your dress. "You can kiss me."
He expects you to jump at him, to slot your lips over his and lick into his mouth eagerly - but you only steady your palms carefully against his chest and lean in, your eyes focused on his, your breath meeting his skin. You kiss him softly, lightly, with your lips just so grazing his and your eyes fluttering shut. His fingertips run down the soaked spot on your panties.
That's when your teeth catch on his lip. You sink them into his skin gently and tug, your heart missing a beat as he groans into you. He hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them to the side just like you'd hoped, just like you'd begged for.
Jake's right - you're not in charge. But that doesn't mean you don't know what buttons to push to get what you want.
His fingertips trail through your wetness for the first time in a whole fucking month. It's long overdue. So long.
You moan into him, pressing your chest right up against his and fisting his shirt, and push closer. You need to be this close. You need to be even closer. You need him to fuck you, now, not only to drag his fingers up to your clit.
But he's too focused on you, getting too drunk on the feeling of you. He's finally got you here again, finally on his lap again, finally kissing him again, finally eager for him again. He's finally touching you again. And he has to touch you.
You're so fucking wet. You're soaked. He wants to take his time to notice that. He needs to take his time to notice that. He needs to touch you, to feel you. He doesn't even mean to tease you. He doesn't even realise he is teasing you. Not until you rock into his hand and let a whine slip into his mouth.
You really don't intend to. It's an accident. You don't want to rush him. What you want is to be good for him. But you can't help yourself.
And he knows you can't.
Which is the only reason he doesn't pull back and leave you high and dry. Well, that - and his desperation to have you.
So instead, he pushes two fingers into you and catches the languid moan you let out. Fuck. You sound so sweet. You feel so perfect. It's been so fucking long.
"Jake", you whimper, just because it's also been that fucking long since you've whined his name into his mouth. Into the low-quality mic of your phone, yes. But with his lips on yours? With his fingers thrusting inside you so precisely, hitting the right spot immediately? No, that's been too fucking long.
It's dirty. Not quick, like the other times neither of you had been patient enough to look for a better spot to have each other and had opted for the car instead. No, it's just dirty, with his fingers pumping in and out of you, his tongue running along yours and your knees rubbing against the seat.
Maybe it's because the radio had turned off alongside the car, or maybe it's just the long month you'd spent apart - either way, all sounds are louder than they should be, your ears ringing with your moans, your wetness around his fingers and his lips against yours.
Goddamn.
He's working magic. You don't know how he hits the right spot again and again and again, his fingers curling, his thumb catching on your clit - but he has you clenching around him, warmth pooling in your core, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto his jeans within minutes.
You pull an inch away from him, your eyes still squeezed shut, your palms flattening against his shirt, and the only reason he knows he isn't just dreaming of you again is because you're warm and wet around his fingers. Everything else about you is unreal.
You're gorgeous. You're so damn stunning, rocking your hips back against him and moaning his name, your lips parted and your skin sweaty.
"Fuck", you pant, your chest rising and falling so tantalisingly that his eyes drop right down to your cleavage. "Just like that."
He has to grin to himself, but he lets it slide, if only because you're looking so pretty holding onto him as he pushes his fingers into you and circles your clit - just like that. Again and again, until you're digging your nails into his chest and catching your lip between your teeth and moaning his name, Jake, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck, until you're clenching around him and shuddering in his arms, until you're reaching your high on his fingers, not on your own for the first time in four full weeks.
"Attagirl", he mutters, straining so hard against his pants that it hurts. "I've got you."
You press your lips against his jaw sloppily as you come down, your breath shallow, your skin burning, just needing to get your mouth on him. You can feel your heart beating, every thud, thud, thud against your chest. God. You hadn't come like that in a month. You'd come, sure, to the low rumble of his voice over the phone, calling you all sorts of sweet names and telling you just how to get off for him. But nothing could ever possibly beat the way he works you.
And still - even as you come down from your orgasm, you already crave the next, long and lust and hunger for him inside of you, not his fingers, but his cock.
"Jake", you mewl, slotting your lips over his and desperately dragging your tongue over them before you draw back an inch, your breath meeting his. "Fuck me? Please?"
He pulls his fingers out of you and raises his hand and before you can even really realise what you're doing, you're parting your lips and watching as he grins and presses his fingertips down on your tongue. God, he fucking tastes like you. You suck his fingers into your mouth obediently and lick them clean, looking at him out of lowered, half-lidded eyes and he fucking grabs at your waist with his other hand like his life depends on it.
Goddamn, it's been too long since he's watched this. Since he's had this sight in front of him. And holy mother of hell, what a sight that is.
Your cheeks hollowed out, your gaze caught on his, your lips wrapped around his fingers. His jeans are too tight. Too fucking tight. He needs relief. Now.
So he pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a low grunt and fumbles with the button of his jeans, quick and hurried. He's barely popped it open before your hands slip between his and push them out of the way. You drag down his zipper, reach into his briefs, finally, finally, finally! and he lets you, steadying his palms against your thighs and watching you tug your lip between your teeth.
"Condom", you breathe, then you glance up at him and blink - once, twice, thrice to get yourself back to reality. Condom. Condom, fuck, you're sure you've got one, you know you've got one, somewhere-
Jake takes his hand off your thigh and reaches for his pocket, pulling out a condom before you've even finished thinking.
You grab it from him almost reflexively, your fingers closing around it, tearing it open - quick and frenzied now, because you're not sure how much longer you can hold out. How much longer you can manage without having him.
You glance up at him before you roll it onto him, waiting, checking, if you can, if he'll let you- And how could he not? Fuck, he's got to clench his jaw and grab onto your waist just to hold back, to stay still. He hadn't meant for it to be like this. He'd meant to fuck you back at home, slow and steady, preferably in bed where he could really see you, where he could see every inch of you, not in the front seat of your car that he'd probably have to get cleaned tomorrow. But he can't fucking help himself. He can barely fucking wait until you've rolled the condom onto him, already grabbing at your bare thighs, slipping his hands below your dress, grasping at your stomach.
You steady your palms against his chest and breathe out a whine as his fingers slide across your boobs, pushing the fabric of your dress up, up, up, circling your nipples, hardened and sensitive and damn, you've missed him. You've missed him so fucking much. It's been so fucking long. And you're so fucking desperate.
So you slowly sink down on him and let out a moan, rolling off your tongue so filthily he has to groan. Shit, shit- You hold yourself against him, drop your head against his shoulder and an open-mouthed kiss onto his skin.
"Fuck", he grunts, his fingers working frenzied circles onto your boobs, trying, desperately, no, needing to touch you, to feel you. God, you feel so good around him. Finally around him again. You take your time sinking down on him, catching your breath and pressing your lips against his neck, your eyes squeezed shut. Inch by inch, you take him - and the only way he can keep from bucking up into you is by trying not to concentrate on the way you feel around him (so, so fucking perfect), but instead do his best to breathe. Just... breathe. It's been too fucking long. And you're too fucking pretty. And he'll go fucking crazy.
"Jake", you mewl, your lips dragging against his jaw.
Instead of an answer, he turns his head and catches you in a kiss.
You whine into his mouth, your legs clamping around his, stilling as you adjust, your tongue running along his lips, his teeth, your hands fisting his shirt, clenching and cramping and pressing against his chest.
"Go on", he urges, pulling away no more than an inch, his breath shallow, mingling with yours. "Take what you want, darling."
"Fuck", you breathe, arching into his palms and steadying yourself against him, your teeth catching on your lip as you move - up, slowly, steadily, then down, faster, quicker, and again, and again. Holy hell. Moan after moan rolls off your tongue. He feels so fucking good. You're so fucking full of him. You find a rhythm, then that spot inside of you. Your head tilts back, your fingers clench into the collar of his shirt, your nails scratch against his skin.
He watches you, every inch of him tensing. You're gorgeous, so damn gorgeous, bouncing in his lap like this. You're stunning, your dress pooling around your hips as he drags his hands back down to your waist, thumbing at your stomach, circling and drawing against your skin. He's touching you. Now, here. It's not just a dream. It's not just his imagination. It's you, you, wrapped around him, moving up and down him, your palms against his chest, your eyes fluttered shut, your teeth digging into your lip.
"Just like that, keep going", he encourages, all low and deep, smooths his hands down your body and can't help but grin as you let out a soft mewl. It's been so long since he's heard you whine for him - so long since he's heard it without hundreds and hundres of miles between you, without the microphone ruining what have to be the sweetest sounds he's ever known. "Feeling good, baby?"
The air is heavy, heavy and sticky. It presses down on you, pushes against your skin, settles on your body and flattens your breath. Every single one of your nerve ends is on fire.
"Yes", you gasp, your eyes fluttering open to take him in, him in all of his very, very real glory right in front of you. He looks so handsome, so fucking handsome. Your thighs tighten, clench. You can feel yourself growing closer and closer and closer with every stroke, with every time you sink down on him. Fuck, he doesn't just feel good, he feels heavenly. He feels like everything you need. "So good, Jake."
The grin on his lips sends sparks through your body. It's confident, self-assured... Yeah, you're on top of him, you're moving, you're taking what you want - but he's in charge, you can see it in his eyes. He's in control. It's in the way he breathes, in the way his hands grab at your hips, in the way he palms at your skin. If it weren't for the red on his cheeks, for the sweat beading on his forehead, you wouldn't even have guessed he's all that affected. But he's hard, he's hard as a rock, and it's taking everything in him not to just buck up into you and come right on the spot.
He prides himself on his stamina. In all his years, he's always prided himself on his stamina - on how he can keep going long enough to make you come twice, thrice. And he'll hold out now, too.
But you're gorgeous. And you feel perfect. And you're close, you're clenching around him as you lean in to press your lips to his, to slot your mouths together and kiss him with all your might.
So you're not making it easy for him. Not at all.
He brushes his hand down to the inside of your thigh, leaves a trail of tingles on your skin before his finger finds your clit. You breathe out a whine that he easily catches on his tongue, your nails digging into his chest as he draws circles on your clit, on that sensitive bundle of nerves that has you melting, your eyes squeezing, squeezing, squeezing shut.
Fuck, fuck, you're close, you're close-
Just for a fleeting second, Jake debates pulling his hand away again and leaving you there, on this edge you're teetering on. Not forever, only until you'd got home or so. But he's too desperate to come, too wound up already, too close himself, and there's a much bigger part of him that wants to just fill you up in the driver's seat of your car, in this random parking lot, a month after he'd last had you. The part of him that will revel in knowing that you'll be sitting in the passenger seat for the next three hours with soaked panties, probably leaving behind a wet patch when you'll get out, the evidence of two orgasms right there-
"Fuck, Jake", you gasp and your head rolls back, your lips parting as your entire body clenches, every single muscle cramping and tightening at once, your nails digging hard and harder into his skin, your eyes squeezing shut. His finger on your clit doesn't still, just keeps drawing circles, keeps guiding you through your high, through the foggy haze you're swimming in as your body writhes and tingles.
Jake is too entranced, too enamoured, too captivated by you to even realise he's spilling inside the condom, coming as you do. He can't feel, can't see, can't touch anything but you - his hand grabs at your hip, it palms at your thigh. Anything to feel you. Anything to be with you as you unravel.
"Jake, fuck", you breathe, a lot more softly now. Your grip on him loosens. He'd barely noticed how your nails had still been digging into his chest, but now that you're pulling them away, stretching your fingers and steadying your palms flat against him, he can't help but miss them. You blink at him with the sweetest smile, your lips plush and kiss-swollen, and the view of you is so disarming that he can just so resist opening his mouth and letting those final three words roll off his tongue. But it's too early, it's way too early, even as you're sitting in his lap, even as you're squeezing his cock, even as he draws his finger away from your clit. He's never been the type to say it early. He won't now.
No, instead he raises his hand and rests his fingers against your lips. Once more today, you part them obediently and wait until he's pushed them onto your tongue. Then you close your mouth around them - he still tastes of you faintly - and suck, slathering them in saliva in that sloppy, messy, dirty way you know he likes, your head bobbing as you clean them off. You pull back just far enough to dig your teeth into his fingertips and bite down on them playfully.
Your lips tug into a grin as he draws his hand back, eyebrows raising, his gaze settling on you - still so very heavy, so intense, so fucking full of sex.
"You're a brat, darling", he chides, but he's already brushing strands of hair out of your face, tucking them behind your ears and then wrapping his arms around you to pull you even closer, even tighter to him. Your grin only grows as your fingers clench into the collar of his shirt.
"Maybe", you laugh breathily, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips, one that's so addicting he thinks he might need to stay in this car, in this parking lot for the rest of eternity. "But you love it."
Jake chuckles as he chases after your lips.
"Such a brat."
#x reader#dbf!jake seresin#dbf!jake seresin x reader#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#dbf!jake seresin smut#jake seresin smut#jake hangman seresin#top gun#top gun x reader#hangman x reader
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Bau x reader headcanons
Warnings: yandere behavior , mentions of stalking, mentions of obsession, mentions of maybe a death or disappearance
Summary: you were in big trouble , somehow catching the teams attention like that
You joined the team when you had just finished university
When Aaron first saw you , box in hand , fixing your stuff in your new office , he knew
You had a bunch of cute stuff on your office and that's what first caught Penelope's eyes when entering the room
She had of course done an extensive search on you
Instantly and cheerily introduces herself
You greet her obviously matching her tone
The whole team is OBSESSED with protecting you
At like unhealthy levels
Penelope has hacked in all your social media and she is giving the other daily updates on you
Reid has studied all your habits so much that he knows if something is wrong by the way you walk or even turn a page
Aaron is your boss so that gives him easy access in your everyday life and a bit of control over it( that he doesn't overuse too much since he is a professional)
Emily has absolute banger real life stalking skills
Like she'd know all your program by heart and also inform the others of it , so they can check on you
She also let's Morgan know if someone has been annoying you too much or if they were flirting with you
And BOOM , that's how you never see that one attractive neighbor ever again
JJ is just perfect in making you talk
You seem a bit out of it and none of them can figure it out?
They sent her
The whole team is a bit paranoid , since they know how crazy people can get
They don't even realize they are obsessive and even if they did , theyd be ok with it , since it's you
You'd regularly finds things shipped on your door with little notes
Personal life? Never heard of her.
Your media presence is not safe , your diaries are not safe , your real life interactions are not safe
But I mean why would you ever want to hide anything from them right?
They are just acting like that because they want to protect you, you know. So be grateful
#x reader#fanfic#yandere bau x reader#yandere bau#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#derek morgan x you#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss#jj#jj x reader#penelope garcia x reader#penelope garcia#criminal minds#yandere
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zolu and while they don't care about traditions or someone else's "yes" except each other's, they both choose to ask for each other's hand to avoid any conflict in the future (per Nami's and Usopp's insistance)
Luffy asks Nami first, because he thinks it's only fair she gets to give her okay since it has always been them three, in a way, of course she says yes, even tells him half of Zoro's debt is now forgiven, next, it's Chopper (who's already Zoro's best man, mind you) and between cries of "don't think this makes me happy, you bastard!" and a bunch of "yes, yes, yes" he gives them his okay, then Luffy asks Mihawk and Perona, much to Mihawk's amusement and Perona's annoyance (meaning she's actually touched about it), and it's not much asking as it is announcing it. then he asks Johnny and Yosaku, and he has to wait for like half an hour for them to stop crying and give him their "yes", and when they're in Zoro's home island, he asks Koushirou (and if they're not quick with that visit, it's because Koushirou probably would start telling embarrasing stories about Zoro and how he tried to use like twenty swords to fight when he was a kid) and finally, he asks Kuina, when they go to visit her grave, she's the only one Luffy greets properly, and the only one who's actually asked if she's okay with Luffy marrying Zoro.
Zoro starts with Jinbe, who right away tells him what an honor he thinks it is to be considered someone so important that he's asking him of all people for Luffy's hand, then tells him that shouldn't even be a question, because if it's not Zoro who he marries, then who else? then, he probably asks every single strawhat, more or less, because at the end of the day, it's their captain too, and even if he rather die than ask the shit cook for his opinion on the matter, he knows this is important for them too. everyone says yes (except of course Sanji, who says something along the lines of, "Luffy deserves someone better than a good for nothing mosshead, but if that's what he wants, then sure") next is Sabo, who does an excellent job of scaring Zoro half to death when he straight tells him "no", thank the devil he's only joking, laughs in his face about it amd everything, and even if he tells him there's no one better for Luffy than him, he makes it extremely clear that if he were to do anything to make Luffy even frown, he'd make sure to hunt him down to the ends of the ocean to erase him from existence,
after he's made sure to ask the strawhats and Sabo, he dreads (slightly, anyway) the fact he now only needs to talk with like half of the Grand Line and then with the infamous "Makino" back in Luffy's home island to be finished with the whole thing
#one piece#zolu#i've been thinking about this for days#like#he still has to ask Shanks#Shanks crew#and Dragon and Crocodile and Garo and Rayleigh#deadass he has a lot of people he should talk with#he has to ask for Ace's permission!!!#and Dadan's!!!!#hc that i want to develop into a bigger fic maybe#monkey d. luffy#roronoa zoro#straw hat pirates
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Oh he absolutely would feed into the rumor that Tim and Red Robin are dating. He mentions in an interview that he's in a Poly relationship with at least two men but he can't say their names because he's worried about their saftey, after all they're in a relationship with a successful business man who lives in *Gothem*. He actually means Kon and Brenard (or whoever you ship him with) but everyone is like "oh he's 100% dating Red Robin." And at the family dinner he was forced to attend he is very smug about having the most air tight secret identity while also tying hos two lives together very tightly. No one will ever question why Tim walked into a closet and Red Robin walked out a few minutes later. Clearly they were trying to sneak in a make out session in the closet.
Also there are of course some who still won't take Tim up on the offer of their civilian persona being hired by DI so instead Tim just says, "... what if they hire your hero persona?" And it works shockingly well. Tim does not care, he just doesn't want them to suffer because heroing doesn't pay any bills.
As for how he keeps it all legal, he simply argues that they are supporting themselves! He's not just *handing* them money they're helping him with coding and other things! Money is being exchanged for services, nothing more and nothing less. Why is he paying them so much for doing Not A Lot? Well, he's Timothy Drake and Timothy Drake pays all his workers very well, no matter who they are or what their job is! That hero is making exactly the same and everyone else working in that field at his company! If they moved to the lab he would give them exactly what his scientists get and if they moved behind a desk, they would get exactly the same as a receptionist.
You're so valid for Tim not acknowledging who he's dating, but very much so implying that it's Red Robin. I bet he gets a kick out of all the fanart and fanfics that spring up after he doesn't outright deny their relationship.
I'm sure Tim is working within the legal loopholes, and I love your idea too. To add on, "Timothy Drake" has no clue who under his employ is a hero or not. Red Robin suggests a bunch of people all the time. How is Tim supposed to know who's a vigilante and who isn't? He runs a company, not solve cases.
If anyone questions him even more about it (like how the hell such a successful business owner is so dumb they can't figure out who's under the masks from the pool of people Red Robin suggests), Tim can play up a persona of being a love-stricken fool for Red Robin.
Cops: "Which of your employees are working outside of the law?"
Tim: *knows that's probably 70% of his employees* "Not sure. As long as they don't break any laws while on the clock, I wouldn't know."
Cops: "We know Red Robin suggests vigilantes' civilian identities for you to hire."
Tim: "Does he? That seems like a lot of vigilantes. He's connected me to hundreds of great people to hire."
Cops: "Fine. Only some of them are vigilantes."
Tim: "Okay?"
Cops: "Tell us who under your employ are vigilantes."
Tim: "I don't know. Why are you asking me?"
Cops: "So, you just hire whoever Red Robin tells you to?"
Tim: "Not whoever, but when he tells me to do something..." *proceeds to stare into space with a smile*
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Metroid, as a series, as a story, is like a potluck picnic. You have all these really tasty individual dishes, that on their own wouldn't necessarily be enough to sustain a full meal unless you're looking for a small snack. But for an event like this, the appeal is getting a full-course meal out of these smaller food items.
You got peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, (Metroid) you got crunchy corn chips, (Return Of Samus) you got the slightly more substantial ham sandwiches. (Super). Next year, someone brings peanut butter celery snacks, (Zero Mission) X-treem Flavorblast potato chips (Samus Returns) and cool ranch corn chips (AM2R). Sometime, someone brings a super basic salad of lettuce and ranch dressing (Federation Force) that the kids all raise a disproportionate fuss about for something so harmless. There's hotdogs (Prime) and an initially unappetizing-looking but in fact astonishingly delicious quiche (Fusion) that arrive at the same time. Someone orders a pineapple pizza (Echoes) that also gets some complaints, but those that like it, really like it. Someone even has little mini-sausages on toothpicks (Pinball) that you can wash down with seven different flavors of soda. (Hunters) and of course for dessert, those packaged ice cream cones (Corruption) with a chocolate shell and a bunch of nuts that you always almost choke on at least once. Someone mentions they were gonna bring spicy chicken, but then goes radio silent and you assume they're stuck in traffic or went home.
And then he does show up after all, but bringing a giant pot of soup, and it just tastes. Bad. And the guy who brought it, you think his heart seems to have been in the right place, but he's eagerly explaining why he did this and it feels like he missed the point of the potluck. He says he felt like these picnic foods are all so simple and he wanted to make sure everyone's properly well-fed, so he decided to brew up this big thing of soup with a custom recipe, that has everything anyone could want all in one package.
And you look in the soup, and you see this hodgepodge of really really delicious, high-quality ingredients, that have absolutely no business being put together they way they were. Beef and veggies belong in soup, sure, but strawberry ice cream? Spaghetti? Mustard sauce? Did he dilute his broth base with gatorade? And you feel your heart sink because this feels like a waste of some perfectly good ingredients, and now nobody's going to be able to look at half this stuff without feeling nauseous. It doesn't go over well, a few kids and even some of the adults start crying, everyone goes home feeling like crap, and it's up in the air whether the hosts are even going to want to have another picnic after this.
But after a long wait, there is a next time, and this time the guy just brings the spicy chicken (Dread) he originally mentioned, and even though the jalapeno flavor is pretty dang strong (courtesy of the same source as the Xtreem-Flavorblast potato chips, who helped him out) it's a hit with everyone, and now we're all just waiting on the hotdog/pizza/ice cream cone guys to arrive with their surprise mystery cake.
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One thing that really rots my brain is the idea of the guild during the og baby fairytail members time and the domesticity of it. Cause like no way was gramps letting a bunch of super powered ( and incredibly destructive) 7-14year olds out of his sight.
Just imagine:
Little Natsu and emo teen Laxus having breakfast while very quietly whispering about their respective hoards collections of cat theme things ( I KNOW LAXUS IS A SECRET CAT LOVER I JUST KNOW IT)
Tiny Gray having an emo phase. Mira (a punk 14 year old) helping him out (after teasing him of course). The two spending many hours and lots of jewel to find and look through dozens of fashion magazines. Eventually falling asleep sprawled on the floor in a nest of semi-laminated paper.
Tween Lissana and levy giggling over the kissy scenes in books and Erza overhearing them. Spitting out her cake into Laxus’s face which makes them burst out into full on cackling.
Little Cana teaching natsu to make card pyramids for 3 hours and when he finally gets it, Elfman knocks it over. Every one thinks Natsu is going to punch someone, but he doesn’t, instead he starts full on bawling. Nobody knows what to do. Little Natsu cannot be comforted. Levy shuts him up by shoving candy into his mouth while cana really quickly rebuilds the pyramid.
Erza and Mira having a dance off on some of the tables ( mira breaks 3 of them in half with her stomping, Erza somehow stabs one). This is how everyone finds out to never take either of them to parties cause they dance like the deaf baby of giraffes and a buffalo.
Gray and climbing a tree to the very top and forgetting that he doesn’t know how to get down? He stays there till the next morning and seethes for the next week cause LISSANA had to carry him down.
Natsu following Gray around like a lost puppy his first week cause “he’s friend sized” and what else was he supposed to do? He knows nothing! Dudes not even from this time period. At least if he follows loud stripper he knows he wont get run over by a car. Gray not noticing or caring that he is being followed cause little guy has his own problems to deal with and “as long as he doesn’t take my food or breath on me.”
Cana having a plague doctor mask that elfman bought for her 13th birthday. She wears it to scare the shit out of everyone at the sleepovers.
Weekly “sleepovers” in the guildhall because it’s easier to do gramps weekly count of them when they are all lined up in their my little pony sleeping bags (yes this includes laxus and mira)
When Romeo is born they have a guild wide contest on whose name he says first (the answer is his own cause the little dude is a true fairytail wizard)
Levy managing to give everyone a heart attack after casually admitting that she hasn’t slept or ate anything but crackers and coffee cause she was trying to teach herself the equivalent of ancient greek.
Laxus and gray not knowing how to hold a baby (romeo)
Natsu “teething” on Erza. Everyone stares in shock cause there’s just Erza sitting there stone faced in full armor while Natsu chops down on her arm like he has rabies. ( he still bites her even when they’re older if he’s really stressed)
Everyone having a default crush on laxus or Mira
The guild kids try to make homemade shaved ice with grays ice and end up covering the entire town with really weird ice sculptures
Mira scaring the shit out of kids with her demon souls during Halloween
Someone stealing Mira or Natsu’s food and ending up with a burn on their tounge followed by natsu trying to “kiss it better”
Levy dozing off on the rafters and falling down onto poor elfman
Spin the bottle but instead of kissing you fight (grays idea)
Laxus has a spray bottle filled with water mixed with really bad smelling cologne that he uses to spray people when they’re bad, like cats.
No one in the guild knew how to swim until they turned 16 Lissana still can’t swim.
Its really really common to see elfman or gray duck-taped to the wall (its levy who does it)
Dont fall asleep around teen Mira she will draw titties on your face. (Where do you think natsu got it from?)
They all took a living 101 class when lissana was 13. It failed miserably. Laxus ended up being the grandfather to 6 rats and 3 hamsters
Laxus takes Lissana and Elfman out for brunch once a month because it pisses mira off to no end.
Levy, Lissana, and Laxus accidentally forming an L name club and plan their “meetings” within earshot of Mira and Erza to make them jealous.
“We should get cookies!”-levy
“And ice cream!”- lissana
“(Super smug face) im craving strawberry cake.”-laxus
*sounds of Erza bursting into flames of jealousy*
#fairy tail#natsu dragneel#ft natsu#gray fullbuster#brotp#mirajane strauss#fairy tail mirajane#fairy tail laxus#gray fairy tail#fairytail#crack#they were babies once!!!!#erza scarlet#fairy tail erza#Lissana strauss#elfman strauss#levy mcgarden#found family fluff#cana alberona#ft gray#let laxus be the lamo that everyone looks up to#punk!mira#teen! fairy tail#found family troupe my love#they all got daddy issues and they all have fun#love a good heart attack#mlp is cannon in ft cause i said so#just friendship is magic though#its fitting#siblings
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Landau family headcanons!! Just the parents and other family members
Leonard “Leo” Landau, their father. Name means Lion. Very stern father, kinda got worse and worse as the years went on?? His high standards are mainly on his family rather than his workers
Cara Landau, their mother. Name comes from a caracal. She’s actually a pretty sweet woman, but after all her kids left the nest she decided it was time to relax more and play up to the rich wife role. Was technically a stay-at-home mom, but she helped her husband with business strategies more often than not, very smart woman, it’s where Serval gets it from.
Robert “Bob” Landau, or Uncle Bob, their uncle. Leo’s younger brother and a retired Silvermane Guards Captain himself. A lot more laidback and upbeat than his brother. He actually helped train Gepard a bit when he was younger.
Pantera Landau, their aunt. She was also a high ranked Silvermane Guards member, it’s how she met her husband. She retired early due to an injury, so she couldn’t help training their nieces and nephew, along with her daughter, but she’s still quick to throw out tips and chastise form and stuff.
Pallas Landau, their cousin. Names after a pallas cat. She’s maybe only a year or so older than Lynx. Despite both her parents being veterans, she wasn’t too interested in joining the Guards herself. Of course, she knows basic self-defense, but she has no interest in actually joining the frontline. Instead, she likes figure skating. She knows that even after the Stellaron was sealed the planet would still be covered in snow for years to come, so she decided to make beauty of it herself. Why not use the destruction for a better purpose, basically??
Some more general headcanons:
- The Landau family’s bright blue eyes are a domineering gene, it’s incredibly rare for blood related family members not to have it.
- Gepard was never able to beat his uncle before he properly joined the guards, and after he joined his uncle was getting older and having joint issues due to past injuries, so Uncle Bob jokes that the Shield of Belobog was never able to defeat him.
- Cara has a bunch of sisters, but none of them decided to have kids. Instead they splurge on gifts for their sister’s kids.
- Despite his entire family and himself being named after cats, Leonard isn’t an animal person (because he’s a prick). That didn’t stop his kids from sneaking strays into the house, or just random wild animals.
- Leonard is the only one who doesn’t view Serval as family anymore. She’s still her mother’s daughter, her sibling’s sister, etcetera.
- I think Uncle Bob and Aunt Pantera were the only things stopping the Landau kids from becoming shells of human beings due to their father. Bob was the second son so he didn’t have as many expectations, leading to him having more freedom and not falling into the generation trap of strictness.
#hsr ocs#honkai star rail ocs#hsr#honkai star rail#art#my art#ocs#original characters#landau family#hsr landau
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Imagine something like- Hobie, the coolest guy that you know, punk and anti fascist, bunch of piercings, a couple of self tattoos (hehe headcanon) and overall a really not-afraid-to-live guy,
except for motorbikes.
Then he becomes best friends with biker!Reader of COURSE!! And it takes a while to notice that he’s scared of hopping on one. You're is always talking about getting new things for MJ (the bike- hehe) and how yoy changed the plate to a flipping one so you can stop getting speed limit tickets lol.
But then one day you just turn to him and shouts "OH MY GOD! I NEVER GAVE YOU A RIDE!?!?" and he's completely frozen until a cracked laugh comes through and he just dismisses saying you guys don't have anywhere to go, it's gonna rain (it's not), you can do that another time and every excuse you can think of.
You accept his excuses with squinted eyes but you decide to not pry on it, until one day he needs a ride back home from one of the protests he was on because the pigs were getting aggressive. You literally fly to where he is, scared of something happening but he's in one piece once you get there.
But again, he's frozen holding the helmet. So he finally says the truth to you.
"I-I can't do this, love."
You stare at him confused, thinking N possibilities as to why he said that until you see his trembling hands on the helmet and you hold them tight.
"Just hop on and hold tight to me, I'm not gonna speed up, I promise."
He's skeptical, but it's not like he has much choice, the pigs are getting closer to where they are and the few rubber bullets he got gave him a limping leg. So he hops on and tightly hold onto you.
The ride is better than he expected, you did as you promised, holding his arms when you stopped and reassuring him nothing bad was gonna happen and that you're on the speed limit.
Once home, you take care of his limping leg and by the end of it, he's asking for another ride after a week so he can process the first one.
Oh yes he def has some self done tattoos that he may or may not regret bc he was much younger when he did it! (Ofc when you see them you'll be begging him to give you one!)
Lmaooo we all think he'd be into bikes and be an expert at riding them and being a speed demon but we've never considered that he may be afraid to ride one!! That's brilliant, bleaky! Oh the poor baby (he's 6'3" 😂) would be all "nah I'd rather walk" but when push comes to show, he'd be getting on lightning quick 😂 I bet he'd be apprehensive at first but he's not gonna show it to you. It's not like he doesn't trust you behind the wheel it's just he doesn't trust the other ppl driving on the road with you! What if some idiot hits you at full speed? So every time you ride your bike he's all "🥺 be careful okay?" But he won't say it bluntly it's more like "I'm your emergency contact right? Just makin' sure, love" he says with a cheeky smile.
And yess after he gets a taste of the rush while riding on the bike with you, he'd be asking if you can pick him up after gigs (even though he can web swing!)
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i would get murdered if i said this publicly anyway these are a bunch of things i would love to say but i also love living life
i find it weird that max is the only one called the teammate killer when charles has done the same and so has lando
i like carlos more now that i know his not going to driver for ferrari next year
as a lewis fan i’m actually so scared for him for 25 because of the curse and ferrari being a retirement home for ex wdc
Okay I’ll do this by points.
1. I think what’s going to happen with most teams is one driver really understands the car and one driver doesn’t as much. And when one driver is doing significantly better they start tweaking the car to that driving style. Max likes a very pointy car that can become very hard to drive. Max also used to be quite aggressive and never really endeared himself to many people which makes them more likely to attack him for the same things other drivers do.
2. I don’t really have an opinion on this one. He is driving better I think to prove himself. I do adore the beef with him and Oscar it just cracks me up.
3. Ferarri does have that curse and I do love Lewis so I hope he does well. I think Lewis is in a unique situation with Ferrari in that it’s a win win for him. If he goes and can win a WDC then he’s returned the honour to Ferrari and if he can’t then it’s Ferrari of course he couldn’t. But either way he gets to drive for Ferrari.
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Do you have anymore insight into more of Makoto and Kamamkurized Taka? I'm not saying Taka's love for Makoto could get obsessive but... 👀
Oh, absolutely!
Taka sees this normal human who was dumped amongst the experimental abominations, this innocent sacrifice laid before false gods, and he has to protect him. At first, it's not a personal thing; it's a rejection of what the scientists are saying by placing him here. That he's expendable, that he's inferior. Taka believes that what Makoto stands for is worthy of defending, but at first he doesn't feel capable of experiencing any emotional partiality towards him in particular.
He makes sure Makoto is safe from the others.
For his part, Makoto is both amazed and horrified by what was done to his friends. Horrified, most obviously, but he's still amazed when they do incredible things so casually. They find his reactions stimulating (just picture a bunch of bright crimson eyes staring at him from every direction; a bunch of uncannily slouching bodies gracefully maneuvering around him), and Taka is entranced by the pure human emotion.
In particular, Makoto's sadness for who they used to be and what they lost.
First of all, Taka loves that this grief proves that he cared about his friends for who they were and not what they could do. If he cared only for their talent, he would celebrate the change. Who doesn't want a pop sensation who can hit higher notes and never tire of concerts? Yet Makoto misses things about them that kept them from perfection.
And second of all, the persisting faith that exists within the sadness! A lot of them tell him point blank that his friends are gone, that only the Izuru Kamukura Project remains in their bodies. He doesn't agree. He insists that his friends still exist in some form, within them.
Taka of course tells him that he can't accept the name of the one who came before him, and asks Makoto to call him by his number, but in those moments that Makoto initially forgets and then corrects himself, he feels the temptation to just take the name, the identity, the friendship. Kiyotaka Ishimaru is gone, but something lives in his body, something which would devote itself fully to being a person if he was just allowed to be. When Makoto tells him about Kiyotaka Ishimaru, and the elements of him that he believes are still alive, he is so tempted.
"You would study together?" the experiment says. He maintains perfect posture, sitting and standing, but his head he angles down, as if to hide his face. He speaks inflectionlessly, but forcefully. Makoto says Ishimaru spoke loudly, too. "For class?"
"Yeah, pretty often. Sometimes in my room, sometimes his, sometimes in the library."
He likes imagining it. Did they struggle together? Help each other? Was Kiyotaka Ishimaru better or worse at math than Makoto? Did he read faster or slower? Did his hand cramp when writing? Did he notice every color in Makoto's eyes and skin like this abomination does?
The group (especially Aoi and Leon) find it entertaining to ask Makoto to do things like peel a fruit or solve a math problem. Just small tasks that they would be able to do effortlessly. For most of them, it's like watching a cat manage to turn a doorknob. Even those of them who don't personally urge him to do things that demonstrate his flaws will stop what they're doing to watch.
Taka watches, but not because he finds it amusing. He finds it beautiful. Human effort, as it should be. He loves Makoto's difficulty peeling an orange, his sluggish long division, his serviceably legible handwriting. His imperfections are worth more than the millions of dollars spent to create these monstrosities. He would– and in fact, earnestly believes they all should –die to protect the way Makoto stumbles over his feet, and the face he makes when he tries to put his thoughts to words.
"You're not abominations," Makoto says firmly. "You're my friends. Old friends or new friends, I don't consider you abominations. Something happened to you that you didn't choose, but you're here now. You're alive, you're real, and you matter as much as anyone else. You're a person."
Taka knows (believes) that Makoto is wrong, but that's alright. Being wrong about things is part of his humanity. Humans can form bonds with all kinds of things– even soulless experiments. It doesn't matter that Makoto is wrong, because his misplaced faith is so human.
Makoto is so human.
As much as Taka knows that Makoto should be among humans, under the sun instead of the laboratory lights, he finds himself becoming just as protective of Makoto's place among them as of Makoto himself.
The thought of Makoto leaving agitates him in ways he cannot justify.
Even if the scientists told him that they were letting Makoto go, sending him back to his family, how could he possibly trust them? How could he believe that they won't either turn him into another Kamukura or kill him to keep the story contained?
One day, one of the scientists asks him to forfeit his time with Makoto, in favor of a few hours in reflex testing, and he refuses. He gives no justification and cannot be convinced.
One day, Junko wraps her arms around Makoto, and Taka dislocates her shoulder, getting her off him. He reacts similarly with Byakuya and pretty much anyone who hasn't demonstrated themself to be consistently safe. Chihiro, Kyoko, Mukuro, and Hiro are pretty much the only ones he trusts to touch Makoto, and even then he's very watchful.
"Your loyalty dooms you," he says to him one night. He sits at the foot of Makoto's cot while he sleeps, like a guard dog, and for once, he speaks quietly. Too quietly for Makoto to hear. "It seems as if you wouldn't leave us, even if we could let you."
Kyoko, in her cot, asks, "Does that make you feel better about the fact that you can't?"
"I'm sure he could," Sayaka interjects. "He was the Ultimate Moral Compass in a past life. Temperance comes naturally to him."
"Hagakure?" Chihiro says. "Can Ishimaru let him go?"
"That depends. Did Owada lead with his left foot or his right foot, leaving the bathroom this morning?" (He's joking; he's just not going to answer the question.)
"Hifumi? Have you seen us letting him go?"
"I'm afraid I'm not in this scene."
"Are you all talking to each other?" Makoto whispers, having not heard pretty much any of that.
"Yes," Taka replies. "Don't let it rob you of sleep. Your body needs rest."
"And your body takes pleasure in knowing it," Junko teases. "Isn't he so human? So pure?"
"Not an abomination at all," Aoi joins in the ribbing.
"Well, there's still time."
"We won't allow that," Mukuro says. "There are more than enough people for them to tamper with; they know better than to touch what has been made ours."
"What are you guys talking about?" Makoto asks. Again, not having heard anything since Taka spoke.
"You," Taka replies.
"Wait, really?"
"What else would we discuss? Again, you mustn't let it keep you from your rest."
"Oh, um, okay...Well, good night, guys."
Some of them respond in kind.
"I wonder if they gave him to us to prevent Ishimaru from eventually blowing up the building with all of us inside," Celeste muses.
"I've had the same thought," Aoi says, and a few of their classmates voice their agreement.
Taka ignores them, just watching Makoto drift toward sleep. He drools in his sleep. So flawed. So human. The drool on that pillow is worth more than everyone else in this room.
He knows that love is a human emotion. A thing Makoto experiences for his friends and family. A thing Makoto should one day experience for another normal human, if he ever wants to get married or...
He knows that what he feels is a perversion of the human concept of love, as much as he is a perversion of a human. He knows it, because imagining a normal human for Makoto to love makes him wish death on this imaginary person, and that's a feeling an Ultimate Moral Compass would never have. He wishes Makoto could have had a life with Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the one he studied with, the one who made human mistakes and followed the rules and tried his best always.
But he doesn't need Hagakure's answer as to whether he'll ever let Makoto go. He already knows.
#danganronpa#kamukura wrangler au#kiyotaka ishimaru#makoto naegi#naeishi#kyoko kirigiri#sayaka maizono#chihiro fujisaki#yasuhiro hagakure#hifumi yamada#junko enoshima#aoi asahina#mukuro ikusaba#celestia ludenberg
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I’ve just noticed Cassian has a bunch of pens stolen imperial code cylinders on his belt here.
This show’s attention to detail just… 😗👌❤️
#star wars#andor#Cassian Andor#Diego Luna#because of course he has a bunch of these things#they get you into places#you can impersonate an officer with them#he really can just walk in like he belongs I love it#and people say this show isn’t star wars-y enough
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#I've played with irl atheists and catholics and everything in between#but it rarely feels like faith is a real factor for anyone-- DM or player#outside of‚ again‚ divine spellcasters and Big Epic Plot Things#I mean there are a couple of 'RAAAHGH FUCK THE GODS >:C' edgy backstory types but#no one is just Normally Culturally Religious and it's WEIRD#like it's not even a matter of faith in dnd! the gods are LITERALLY OBJECTIVELY PROVABLY REAL#so what does that MEAN for the average person! how does it shape language? business? culture?#where are the people wearing holy symbols like amulets-- or the way modern christians very casually wear crosses?#blessings over meals? prayers before bed? burnt offerings?#and like I enjoy thinking about world and culture building but I know that's A Whole Thing but even just like...#it doesn't feel like anyone believes in gods at all except clerics and paladins#like they DO because they factually exist but in the same way I 'believe in' like. the president of france.#like yeah he exists and is important to some people but has no bearing on my life whatsoever#that's such a fucking weird approach to the DIVINE in a polytheist world where those gods are YOUR CULTURE'S GODS??#I am bad at this myself but I'm not religious so it's harder for me to remember what Being Religious All The Time Casually is like lol#funny enough my character with the most intentionally religious background in this sense#is one of my ones who's ended up wrapped up in Big Plot God Things lmao#'aubree starts the campaign with a holy symbol of yondalla because of course she does why wouldn't she'#'oh okay well she's gonna get deeply and personally entangled with a bunch of death gods immediately' fdkjghkdf oh!! welp#you don't really pray to urogalan unless you're breaking ground for a new building or someone just died so it's STILL weird for her lol#but at least I had the framework there of 'oh yeah the gods exist and matter to me and my everyday life and culture' in general#about me#posts from twitter
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I just finished padawan by kiersten white and had a blast with it -- it was exactly the kind of thing my brain craved this week, just some nice character study and adventure story stuff for my brain to chill in. thoughts:
a) I love obi-wan and his poor anxiety-ridden teenage self so so much. peak a delight to have in class to the point of nervous break representation, someone help him. local boy manages to become parentified child to an absent father somehow. that part where he's so afraid he's so bad and useless that the force itself might just decide it doesn't want him after all........ heartbreaking. that's exactly what I would have thought at sixteen too probably. (also my personal headcanon has always been that obi-wan is on the ace spectrum, so that was a very nice thing to find supported in this book! canon is vast and can support any number of stances that way honestly everyone should go hog wild with it in whatever manner they please, but that's always been my vibe)
b) qui-gon fucking jinn if you don't step up and do something to help the child in your charge with his ACTUAL DEBILITATING ANXIETY DISORDER RUNNING HIM RAGGED other than ask him to meditate so help me I will come over there and do maul's work for him ahead of time I swear to fucking god
c) no, really, it says some not very good things about qui-gon's mentorship abilities that obi-wan really only manages to grow and be calmer when he's outside of his influence. I know this book means you to come away with the feeling that obi-wan takes a big step towards enlightenment and adulthood on this trip (and I do think that's also true to be clear!), but there is a part of me that also thinks that just as much as personal and spiritual development what we're seeing here is an avoidant attachment style definitively entrenching itself as a result of having no adult that can be consistently trusted to meet him emotionally. (which also makes a horrible kind of sense, thinking about what obi-wan and anakin's relationship is going to be like in the future -- obi-wan is avoidant and self-contained when it comes to trying to deal with his emotions, and anakin skews far more anxious and towards lashing out, and they never quite understand each other for all the love that is there. you can trace that all the way back here. sins of the master, huh.) obi-wan finds some agency and catharsis in being able to help a group of abandoned children, you say. hm. I'm sure this means nothing and has no parallels in his own inner world. you let the kid think you'd completely abandoned him instead of communicating with him openly for like five minutes. For His Own Good of course. Wow I didn't realize I was this angry about this but here I am once again livid on obi-wan's behalf, actually. 'I'm an incredible teacher and this lack of honest emotional communication I'm fostering in favour of (benign!) manipulation is never going to come back and bite the jedi order in the ass, surely'; the qui-gon jinn story
#as someone who has been asked to meditate to cure mental illness since I was like twelve: obi-wan should be allowed to kill. murder even#star wars#padawan 2022#obi wan kenobi#I may of course be doing some projecting here but knowing how it turns out..... I don't think I'm entirely off base either#I uh. I wonder a little bit at how the jedi actually approach mental health in general because obi wan is A Mess in this#and no one fuckign seems to notice or care b/c he's obsessive about not making it anyone else's problem lmao#he's been allowed to develop crippling eldest daughter syndrome among a bunch of enlightened force sensitives#there is so clearly a lot of warmth and wonderful things in the jedi temple don't get me wrong at all! but uh.#they've clearly got some weak spots that will also be there by the time it's anakin's turn with the generational trauma lol#star wars meta
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Cola and Pretzel Play: Stardew Valley ✨✨
I just think they're silly
#this is several headcannons bunched up into one thing so im not even gonna try to explain#cola and pretzel are freinds i think. i think pretzel is friendly with all of steaks freinds but cola in particular likes him#stardew pretzel is a glam cowboy who loves flowers a lot#he n elliot are also close but he mostly talks to willy and fishes#cola dating sam because. of course he is honestly i don't think theres another person hed be remotely interested in dhdhdhd#also his character is covered in scars bc he keeps dying in the mines. pretzel has not died or passed out once#they have many cows and no chickens. pretzel is scared of the chickens#ANYWAYS#ff cola#ff pretzel#stardew valley#sdv#food fantasy#willy stardew valley#(mentioned)#note the first thingy is not ship. cola is just a lil silly
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