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#they're already so hyper
talesofaekalar · 1 year
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"And you probably shouldn't, but I endorse all bad decisions," ~Magpie
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ive-got-it-memorized · 3 months
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I'm back on my bechloe bullshit ✌🏻
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iateyourburrito · 2 months
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Updated Tattoo want list
- Mars Rover (wrist)
- Crom Cruach Ouroborous (other wrist. Secret of kells style)
- The Aten (sleeve style, same arm as rover)
- Laika puppy [+ Sputnik?] (back?)
- Pale Blue Dot (ankle)
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asaliveaslenin · 1 year
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You are challenged by Subway Girlbosses!
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neverendingford · 2 months
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barb-l · 3 months
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Love that Charlie was so protective of Vaggie during the whole battle against the angels. She was literally following her around the whole time. She was so hyper aware of her, being Vaggie's shield, especially since Carmilla pointed out that angels like Vaggie have a bad habit of forgetting to defend themselves. One of the criticisms against Chaggie is that Vaggie dedicates too much of herself to Charlie, but the thing is she's only like that in the first place because Charlie loves her just as much. Vaggie needs to work on looking out for herself ofc(they're already dating in the show. They need something to develop from duh) but it really makes so much sense for Vaggie to be as devoted as she is when it's a woman like Charlie she's in love with.
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celestialprincesse · 1 month
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I love poly 141 x (fem/afab)reader way too much, so what if reader finds out that she’s pregnant? Like me personally I love it when I’m reading a silly lil fic and the fmc hides her pregnancy until it’s a bit noticeable but like obvi they’d have really good trust in each other, reader would tell them after she misses her period and she’s taken a test etc etc :D
Too many thoughts on this so sorry if it doesn’t make sense LOL
-R
YES YES YES YES I especially love when her partner sort of notices something is up, but doesn't push until she's ready to tell, even though he probably found the test in the bin or something🤭🤚
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The main problem with keeping secrets in your relationship? John. Captain John Price.
He's always been hyper vigilant towards your needs - towards every minute aspect of your life. He knows how stressful it can be to not only share your home with four people, but four stressed, grumpy, massive military men with a penchant for eating you out of house and home? In his eyes you're a saint for putting up with all of them.
Because of this, he tries to streamline your day to day life as much as possible. The fridge stays stocked, as does the bathroom cabinet, always supplied with nice shampoos and conditioners, your favourite body lotion, and practically the entire sanitary product aisle of your local store.
The first red flag is the fact that the window during which you usually have your period has been and gone, and none of the new boxes of tampons he restocked have been opened.
He doesn't think much of it though, rationalising that maybe it's just late, or that you'd had some leftover from last month that you'd used up. Later on though, when Kyle comes home to you bent double over the kitchen sink, hurling up your guts, concerns raise substantially. He'd only been coming in to grab the charger for his laptop when he'd heard the ruckus, and promptly called for a day off to look after you.
You soon realise what's up, and promptly shit yourself when you realise that you're carrying a baby with four potential dads. Like Mamma Mia but so much worse - and with far less wonderful Greek architecture and bright sunshine.
The boys all manage to work it out before you do, especially when you cry until Simon takes you to your local drive-thru for burger pickles and a milkshake. Just burger pickles and a milkshake. They're all surprisingly calm about the fact that you're pregnant, albeit slightly concerned that they should maybe nudge you in the right direction, seeing as you try to go about day-to-day life when you can't even smell cheese without barfing.
When you do eventually stalk into the living room with a pregnancy test in hand, and a sheepish look on your face, they try their hardest not to act surprised, even though they've already been going through paint samples for the nursery, wondering which one you'll like best - and they hope, for your sake, that it's a girl. God forbid there's any more testosterone in your house.
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Recently rewatched OFMD with a friend and I looove how Ed's introduction completely turns your expectations on their head.
Blackbeard is popular enough in the cultural zeitgeist that you kinda have a good working assumption of what you're gonna get, right? You expect a hyper-masculine, macho guy, super tough, stab-you-in-the-back, life-is-cheap kinda guy.
And Ed's introduction is so careful. He speaks in that soft, gravelly voice. We don't even get to see his full face. When we do get his full introduction, it's in that beautiful pan-up, with the slow footsteps and the dramatic lighting. It's seductive, almost, and it's mysterious and cool and so carefully-orchestrated. Especially on rewatches, it stands out how much of a performance it is.
And we know what to expect from this guy. The way he's teased throughout s1e3 makes it seem like they're setting him up to be the bad guy, right? It's an easy read on your first watch, and it's what my friend assumed.
And then in episode 4 we actually meet Ed. And, slowly, you start to realize this guy is brilliant, yeah, but he's also funny and goofy and he just wants someone to play with.
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And then you start to get it. The whole Blackbeard thing is an act. He wants to introduce himself as Ed. He wants someone to be friends with. At the end of s1e4 when he tells Izzy he's going to kill Stede, you don't know yet that trying to force himself to kill Stede is going to trigger Ed so badly that he's going to have a panic attack, but you can already guess he's not going to to through with that plan.
It's such a clever character reveal, because it plays on your expectations - look, it says, here's Blackbeard! You know what to expect from Blackbeard! And then you get to meet Ed, and the story says the Blackbeard thing is an act, actually, and he fooled you, too.
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herebutnothere · 1 month
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This scene in S7 E5 is so so important to the bridge between who Rick and Michonne were as people before each other and who Rick and Michonne are as individuals and a unit once they find and learn each other.
At this point in their journey they're at a crossroads. The Saviors have just murdered their friends and have put their community under a constant state of danger and strife. The very life and freedom they walked the extra 100 miles for is at risk.
And yet...
Rick is willing to accept it. He's already lost so much and he can't see a way out that doesn't include more losses that he's not sure he can handle.
But Michonne is willing to fight. While she too has lost so much, she can't see a way forward that includes rolling over.
Rolling over like Mike (who cost her her son).
Or rolling over like Andrea (who cost her the trust and friendship she carefully opened herself up to).
So here, when Rick says that he's going to go find things to appease this force weighing on them, that he's using his time and energy and power to essentially surrender, they're at odds.
For Rick, this comes with self-doubt, self-consciousness, and embarrassment. Maybe he can't keep them safe.
For Michonne, this comes with self-doubt, fear, and hesitation. Maybe she'll lose everything again.
But it's important to note that they're at odds with the method, not at odds with each other.
So. Back to this scene.
Rick says that if you change your mind, you can join us. You can join me. (Please don't leave. Please don't doubt me. That's a pain I can't handle.)
For him, Negan's presence is the manifestation of all his internal doubts. And we've seen what happened before when those internal doubts were presented in human form (Shane x Lori).
Lori turned from him. She doubted him. She lost faith in him. She, for all intents and purposes, left him.
So when he sees Michonne's doubt and hesitations, he thinks it's happening again. That she's turning from him. That she's doubting him. That she's lost faith in him. That she'll leave him. That she's disgusted by his "weakness". That she's at odds with him because we know that he internalizes his decisions as a reflection of himself.
That she can't handle, accept, or love this side of him.
But Michonne isn't even focused on that. She's stuck on her way of doing things. Of not being able to trust anyone and needing to be the only person who can step up. She's trying to not lose Rick and Carl and the others the same way she lost her son. She's reverting to hyper-independence.
So when she shifts his peck on the cheek to kiss him fully, when she holds his face and looks into his eyes, it's her saying "I see you. I understand. And I still need to do this for myself." (I'm not at odds with you. I'm trying to prove myself wrong. I need to see it through.)
His "thank you" is for her wordless affirmation. For her grace. For her love. For her acceptance of what he thinks he needs to do and who he thinks he needs to be in this moment to keep them all safe.
And with this, the bridge between them is strengthened. The Rick who still struggles with the weight of leadership that's been thrust upon him and the Michonne who hasn't fully trusted this new world around her begin to settle. And when each comes back at the end of the day having played out their individual methods and seen the proof they need firsthand, they have a new understanding of what they're facing.
Because this time is different.
Rick didn't have her before and Michonne didn't have him.
But now, they have each other. That's why she says that together they can defeat the Saviors. They need each other. His strength and hers. Different forms of strength made more powerful and amplified by the individual experiences they've had.
Le sigh.
This is one of my favorite scenes of theirs and in my mind lays the foundation for how everything in TOWL played out, from his escape attempts to her being able to break through his trauma. Simple perfection.
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thebibliosphere · 9 months
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Just found out something that you might already know, but I thought you should hear about just in case. Apparently many showerheads have biofilms in them, and when they're used they basically aerosolize bacteria/fungi/etc, which I imagine would be very bad for you and is a definite possibility in your nightmare house. There are a couple of studies, but this is the one I was looking at:
https://www.google.com/url?q=https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30377276/&sa=U&ved=2ahUKEwi2z4Pm5vmAAxUTJUQIHXJaA94QFnoECAoQAg&usg=AOvVaw27mmBTVT8fjgzdUsLcg6oG
Oh yeah, that stuff is nasty (link for anyone who wants it). It's one of the reasons I bought all new showerheads when we moved in here. I didn't want to even try cleaning whatever the fuck I'd find 😓
I was always hyper-aware of stuff like this, too, because my mum had a friend who caught Legionnaires’ disease after she moved into a house that'd been dormant for a while, so the shower and water tank became a breeding ground for Legionella bacteria. Her kids got sick too. Freaked my mother the hell out. When we were kids, she used to take the showerheads off and soak them in vinegar every few months as part of her deep cleaning.
No idea if that helped or not, but it always made the fixtures shiny.
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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months
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sir, this is a wendy's
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'modern au' rated t wc: 765 tags: established relationship, proposal, kinda silly
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"They're out of the cookies, sweetheart," Eddie turned to Steve as he came back from the restroom of the Wendy's.
They were still nearly six hours from home and exhausted, a little bit grumpy if Steve's silence for the last hour was anything to go by.
"I'll have a Frosty then."
"Machine's down."
Steve blinked at him before sighing.
"I guess nothing then, right? Just the burger and fries."
Eddie sighed, too.
The visit with Robin hadn't gone...well. She'd told them she was taking a year to study abroad and part of the program meant she could only come home for one week during their summer break. Steve wasn't taking it well that she'd go from being an eight hour drive away to an eight hour flight away.
He was being patient.
He knew Steve hated change like this, and he'd only been sitting with it for about 12 hours.
Eddie turned back to the cashier with a smile.
"Two number two's, one with no onions and one with no tomatoes please."
Steve was standing next to him, staring down at his phone. When Eddie looked over, he had a tab open showing the program details of Robin's study abroad track.
While they waited for their food, Eddie watched Steve biting his lip, then his thumbnail, and then his lip again.
"Stevie, what's goin' on in your head?" Eddie finally asked.
Steve shoved his phone in his pocket and looked at the floor.
"Nothin'."
"It's clearly somethin'. You worried about Robin?"
"Obviously," Steve huffed.
"Love, she's-"
"Steve Munson!"
Both of them whipped their heads back to the counter, where a woman was pushing a tray of food towards them.
Steve's wide eyes looked back at Eddie, cheeks a bright red.
Eddie walked up to grab their food, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of Steve actually being Steve Munson.
It's not that he hadn't thought about it before; He had thought about it most days for the last year.
There was a ring in his drawer at their apartment to prove it.
"Table?" Eddie choked out, avoiding eye contact with Steve.
They were quiet as they sat down, taking their food off the tray and looking at it. Not eating, not even touching it anymore, just looking.
"Um."
"So."
They looked at each other, then back down at their food.
"Steve Munson sounds kinda nice," Eddie said hesitantly.
"Yeah?" Steve was picking at the wrapper around his burger now.
"I mean, I've thought so for a while."
"You have?"
Eddie was really about to propose in this Wendy's.
Without a ring or a real speech.
Just himself and a few old people in the corner eating chili.
"I'm gonna do this for real somewhere that isn't a Wendy's on an exit in some shitty town that has two gas stations and a Wal-Mart, but for now." He cleared his throat and reached across the table to take Steve's hand. "I dunno why they called that name, but maybe it's a sign. I love you. I know right now you're having a lot of thoughts, and you don't have to answer me. I'm not even on one knee, but really this is a Wendy's and my knee's been hurting for the entire ride. I love you. I said that already."
Steve giggled and Eddie couldn't help smiling back at him.
"I love you. I'll say it as much as you want, as long as it makes that smile happen. I'll say it when you're sad and grumpy, when you're happy and silly, when you're tired, when you're hyper. If it's okay with you, I'll scream it right here."
"In the Wendy's?"
"Yes, in the Wendy's."
Steve just nodded.
"Attention everyone! This man right here? I love him!" Eddie was saying loudly, gaining the attention of everyone around them. "And I'm asking him right now, to be my husband!"
"Sir, this is a Wendy's," an old lady sitting in the booth across from them said.
Eddie and Steve immediately started laughing.
"Well, is he sayin' yes so you'll shut up or what?" An old man said from the other end of the lobby.
Eddie looked at Steve with a smirk.
"Yeah, I'll marry you," Steve said loud enough for everyone to hear.
A couple people clapped, but for the most part, everyone went back to ignoring them.
Eddie kissed Steve softly, chastely.
"Was this a distraction from the Robin thing?" Steve asked.
"Not intentionally. Worked though."
Steve rolled his eyes fondly.
"You better make the real proposal a spectacle."
"Anything for you, my love."
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lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 5 months
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Maybe this is too hyper-specific but I just fucking love??? the stance??? of whumpee lying on the ground and whumper standing over top of them???
"But Danny that's so generic--" yes, okay, but listen. Listen...I am talking about whumpee on the ground, injured, unable to get up, had probably just been crawling away before the last of their strength gave out. And then there comes whumper's legs into view. Whumpee doesn't even have the strength to look up, doesn't know if they'd even want to. And here's where the good shit comes in:
Whumper nudging Whumpee's side with their shoe like they're playfully checking if they actually died, or maybe really checking, or maybe just testing to see if there's any fight left
Whumper kicking a weapon that had been mere centimeters from Whumpee's reach, bonus points if they purposely catch Whumpee's hand under their foot and bear their weight down
Whumper using their heel to kick Whumpee's shoulder and force them to roll over on their back, now forcing them to look up and see Whumper (plus the beautiful imagery of Whumper leering down at them while Whumpee is symbolically beneath them...*chef's kiss*)
Whumper straddling their feet on either side of Whumpee's hips, or chest, or head; anything to have them confined between Whumper's legs from where they stand
Whumper suddenly dropping down into a crouch when Whumpee had only been able to look at their shins before, startling them, now hyperaware how close Whumper has made themself to accommodate this new position
Whumper instead continuing to go about their business, completely ignoring Whumpee on the ground, who can now only helplessly watch their retreating form as Whumper carries out whatever they originally had planned before Whumpee got in the way
Whumper stepping on fresh wounds, stepping on Whumpee's neck to choke them, stepping on Whumpee's head and holding their foot in place until they're done speaking whatever it is they want to say
Whumper that asks "are you done?" "that's it?" "so, was it worth it?" because if Whumpee is already at their feet, they might as well grovel a little
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undertheorangetree · 7 months
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Competition
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Summary- Aemond is a big fan of healthy competition.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Modern AU. Mutual edging. Handjob. Fingering. Blowjob. Surprisingly fluffy?? Straight up porn.
Author's Note- I wrote this instead of studying for my midterm lmao. This was a request and therefore a tumblr special so I'm posting the full story here below the cut :)
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Usually, she finds the competitive nature of her relationship funny.
Aemond has always been competitive. Whether it was a board game amongst friends or trivia night at the pub or something as simple as an arm wrestle, he loved to win. Most of the time, she found the trait endearing and knew it was a habit she shared, especially when he was there to egg her on.
But it is at times like this she thinks perhaps his need for competition has gotten out of hand. Laying naked on their shared bed, Aemond on his knees beside her with his hand between her legs, two fingers pumping in and out of her ceaselessly. Her hand is wrapped around his cock, doing her best to match his pace even while the pleasure his hand is wringing from her licks up her spine, leaving her dizzy and half boneless. He had gotten it into his head that even this had to be a competition, that whoever forced the other to beg to come first would be declared the winner. She doesn't even remember what they're playing for, not now, but she does know that losing is not an option.
Already, they’ve denied each other twice, pulling the other away in their attempt to win. Despite the desperation that is sitting heavy in her gut, her cunt already hyper sensitive and the feeling only getting worse, she can’t make herself look away from Aemond’s face. His eyes are half lidded, the pupil in his real eye blown wide and turning the blue near black, chest heaving with every breath. His hips buck into her hand weakly, matching her strokes as if he wants nothing more than to let the bliss of it pull him under, his need to win the only thing holding him back. She’ll never get tired of that look, the way his features have gone soft and pliant as pleasure runs through him. She wants to immortalize it, stamp it in her mind’s eye and look at it forever.
She knows she looks just as desperate as he does, legs shaking as she feels her orgasm racing toward her. He keeps a steady pace, the sound of her cunt all but echoing through the room while his thumb circles her clit. It’s almost insulting, how well he is working her up even while she does the same to him. She had half hoped that the pleasure running through him would be some kind of distraction but he seems laser focused, staring between her legs as if he never wants to look away. And she's so close. She can feel it right there, knows that if he keeps going she'll fall over the edge, but just as her orgasm is about to run over her, she knocks his hand away. A desperate whine leaves her, hips bucking up to chase his hand despite having been the one to push it away, and she hears him let out a low groan, his wet fingers closing around her knee.
"Fuck, look at you." His other hand comes up to brush across her tits as if he can't stand the thought of not touching her, catching her nipple between his fingers. She jerks, knowing that was more calculated than it was loving, and slaps his hand away irritably. It doesn’t deter him. "You can give up any time you want, baby, just say the word."
Though she's breathless, frustration and disappointment churning in her gut, she knows he hears the petulance in her voice when she says, "Same goes for you, baby."
He grins, hand falling back between her legs again to play with her clit. There's a smugness there she doesn't like, as if he's sure that she will be the one to beg first, and she decides to wipe the arrogance from his face. Turning slightly, she shuffles a little closer, licking the weeping tip of his cock and before sucking the head into her mouth, fist still pumping at the base. She looks up at him with big doe eyes, trying to look as innocent as she can with his cock in her mouth, and very nearly grins at what she sees.
The effect it has on him is almost immediate. His stomach tenses, mouth dropping open and hand going momentarily still as he watches her, black swallowing the blue of his eye whole. She takes full advantage of his distraction, taking him into her mouth a little deeper and hollowing her cheeks. She knows him, knows every mannerism he has just before he falls apart, and she knows from the look on his face and the way he starts thrusting helplessly into her mouth that he's half a second away from finishing.
Unfortunately, he notices it too and she feels his hand in her hair, tugging her gently off his cock with a frustrated groan. A thin cord of spit connects her to him and he lets out an almost pitiful moan at the sight of it, bringing a grin to her face.
He almost sounds as though he's whining as he says, "You're cheating. Don't cheat."
She tilts her head as she takes him back in hand, reveling in the whimper he lets out. "Why? 'Cause you're gonna come?"
"Because I can't put my mouth on you. S'not fair."
She feels her grin broaden. "And we both know how much you like putting your mouth on me."
He very nearly growls at that before all but tackling her to the bed, forcing her onto her back once more. He kisses her hard, almost punishingly, and she moans into his mouth, both hands coming up to capture his face in her hands. She’s happy for the reprieve, the want burning between her legs too distracting, and takes her time kissing him, in feeling his lips pressing against her own.
"You're such a brat," he mutters against her mouth and she laughs, nipping at his bottom lip to further prove his point. His hand falls to spank her lightly in retaliation, making her jolt again before her own hand drops to find revenge in another way.
It takes him less than a second to follow suit, his fingers running through her to collect the arousal that’s gathered there before pushing a finger back inside her, crooking it up immediately to rub against the spot he knows makes her squirm. They’re both on their sides now and she slings her leg over his hip in an attempt to get more comfortable, still kissing him in the hopes that it will be enough to distract her from falling apart. It does little to help, the pleasure rolling to a boiling point in her belly. In any other circumstance, she would be grateful knowing that her boyfriend knew exactly how to touch her, how to work her up so perfectly, but now she knows that it will be her downfall unless she takes matters into her own hands.
Her mouth drops open, a moan escaping her when he begins circling her clit again, fast enough that her whole body shudders. Knowing now that she is sure to lose should he keep that up, she speeds up her hand in an attempt to bring him over the edge before her. She runs her thumb along the head of his cock, stroking at him faster, and fights the urge to giggle when he pulls away to moan, his head dropping to rest against her shoulder. His lips drag along the skin there, leaving lightning bolts of want in his wake, and her free hand comes up to twist in his hair, lifting herself up slightly.
“Please let me make you come,” she breathes near his ear, biting her lip when he moans faintly in response to it. “You look so pretty when you do. Just want to make you feel good, baby, please.”
She grinds down into his hand subconsciously, rolling her hips in her desperate need for more, and revels in the groan he lets out. She can feel herself clenching around nothing, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside her, but she refuses to succumb to her want now. Once she wins, she will gladly keep him in this bed all night and let him do whatever he wants to her. But before then, she wants to watch him fall apart.
“C’mon. Be a good boy for me.”
That does it. He lets out another whiney sound, this one half a moan, as his brows knit together, bucking his hips up into her hand. She strokes at him quickly, once, twice, until he spills himself over her fist with another moan, thrusts stuttering as he finishes.
Though his hand stalled while he came, he picks up where he left off the moment he has recovered, not giving her any time to mourn the loss of her fading orgasm. His fingers comes back up to her clit, circling it as hard and fast as she can handle and pulling a yelp from her. His free hand falls to the leg that still rests across his hip, holding her in place as he rubs at her faster and faster, that familiar coil in the pit of her stomach snapping almost as quickly as it begins to form. She writhes beside him as her orgasm washes over her, a whine leaving her as her head tips back, giving him enough room to press a litany of open mouthed kisses across her throat.
All at once, the room falls silent, the faint droning of the TV in the next room still humming on where they left it. They’re both panting and Aemond turns onto his back, his hand keeping her leg splayed across his lap while he does it, a faint stretch burning in her thigh.
"I win," she announces breathlessly, wiping her hand clean of him before flopping onto her side, cheek pressing tight against his chest.
He vibrates under her face with a huffed laugh, his hand comes up to stroke at her hair mindlessly. "I think you already got your prize."
She turns her head up to meet his eye. "And if I want another one?"
He turns down to kiss her again. This time, it’s much gentler, all the desperation that had filled the air between them simmering down to nearly nothing. A part of her thinks that he may be content to simply lay here with her in their disheveled bed but then he reaches for her ass again, using his grip there to tug her to lay flat on top of him. His cock is already half hard between them and she feels the side of her mouth quirk up at the realization that he is, in fact, not quite done yet.
“That can be arranged.”
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luveline · 2 years
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could you maybe write struggling single dad!eddie? ily!!! 😘
love you! hope this is okay :D I did girl dad!eddie because ♡ fem!reader
Juggling car keys, a brown paper bag of groceries and a toddler that refuses to be put down today is not easy. And she's not always like this, Roan's usually a sweet (if quiet) girl who makes Eddie's life as easy as she can. A blessing, he thanks God or whoever for her everyday, but lately she's been clingy as climbing ivy.
"Babe," he says, stress seeping into the pet name and making it more chiding than he means, "could you relax?"
She glares at him. She's a mirror.
"You're being so mean to daddy today, you know that?"
She ignores him, small hands in the collar of his last nice work shirt and pulling. He can't stop her from stretching it out, doesn't have a hand free to pull her away and the shitty cruiser he swapped his beloved van for is still locked up tight.
"Baby, stop!" he scolds.
She looks like she might have a tantrum if she could. Roan pulls her hands away but starts to grizzle, a sniffle that turns loud that turns to full blown tears. He can't tell if they're crocodile tears or not. He feels awful anyhow.
Roan brings a hand up to slap his shoulder. Her fingers get caught in the fabric of his collar and she tugs to get free, jabbing herself in the eye with the back of her hand.
Her resulting cry is awful. Real, heart-hurting, Eddie forgets to be mad and starts shushing her gently. He presses his back sweaty with exertion against the cold window of the back seat door and pulls her in as close as he can.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he says softly.
She shrieks and hits the grocery bag. It topples. The groceries go everywhere. An orange rolls into the parking lot.
"Roan," he complains, defeated.
Patience, he thinks to himself desperately. Patience. She doesn't mean to.
He can't afford stuff like this. The time it takes to do simple things like get groceries feels expensive enough — he could be pressing Roan's clothes right now, or swapping out that cracked neck on the black Gibson so he can finally get paid for it, or fuck, he could be smoking a goddamn cigarette.
He sets her down. She screams bloody murder but he doesn't have a choice. He has to chase down the dispersed groceries desperately, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
Being a parent has made him hyper aware of other people's judgmental looks. He can feel eyes now on the top of his head and Eddie knows it's that cruel looking blonde woman from the cold cuts aisle who'd tried to lecture him on processed ham.
He picks his head up, words already rehearsed in his head. Lady, if you don't leave me alone I swear to fuck I'm gonna feed her nothing but TV dinners for the rest of her life. She's gonna be a junk food baby and you'll have no one to blame but yourself.
Only It's not the lady. It's a girl.
You wither under his fierce scowl and offer the two oranges in your hand to him unsurely.
"Sorry," you say, shifting forward a half step. "They rolled my way."
He accepts the oranges without talking, which is rude, so rude, but his heads already decided the order of things before his mouth can catch up. Shove the groceries in the bag. Put the bag on the floor. Pick up his kid. Help her calm down.
He hikes Roan onto his hip, rubs her back, and says, "God, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."
You visibly relax. Eddie's surprised you didn't turn tail and run.
"Yeah? Do I have a doppelganger?" you ask. You smile in this way that's totally your own, Eddie's never seen someone grin like that before. Maybe a little shy and the shyness is making you awkward, teeth peeking out, you're pretty.
He's shocked at the thought. She's pretty.
Years of womanising (with varying success) kicks in.
"No, God no. She wasn't nearly as pretty as you are, sweetheart."
Roan seems to realise that she's not the object of his whole affection and pulls on his hair. Eddie let's his head yank to the side with a hiss and then a rueful smile. The world skews. You follow his head movement with your own.
"Is that so? I guess you'd know all about pretty," you say, head dipped to your shoulder.
Eddie gets super excited thinking he's actually managed to pull this one off (a fucking impossibility).
You hold your hand out hesitantly and wave. He realises you had not been talking about him.
"You- Oh, yeah. She's lovely, isn't she?"
You beam. "'Lovely,'" you quote. "That's a nice word." Your attention slides to Roan. She basks in it. "Hey, baby. You're just something else, aren't you? You know! You know how pretty you are, don't go shy on me."
Roan goes smiley. Chubby cheeks full of colour, she grins and pulls her dark curls in front of her face. Like father, like daughter.
"What's her name?" you ask.
"Roan. I'm Eddie."
You introduce yourself, bent just slightly to talk directly to Roan. You offer your hand.
When Roan takes it, you shake her tiny hand gently and then rub your thumb over her fingers. "Nice to meet you, princess."
"Hi," she says slowly.
You give her hand a small squeeze and then take a step back, arms moving behind you. "God, she's a pretty baby. And she looks so much like you."
"Yeah?" he asks warmly.
You realise what you've said with a look like you've been struck. After a second, you blink and laugh self-consciously. "Well. It's true."
He's out of the game. He's miles away from the game. But if he doesn't ask you for coffee that's gotta be self sabotage, right? Eddie's trying to find the words when you take a strange breath.
"Listen, I've seen you around and- I know this is weird. Sorry, but you really are- God. Sorry, but do you wanna get coffee? Sometime?" you ask, clunky and awkward.
Eddie's enamoured. He forgets to answer because he can't believe his luck and you take it for something different, adding, "Or not coffee? What does the little lady like?"
He must smile wide enough to split his lip. "Chocolate, mostly."
"Like cake and stuff?"
"Loves it."
You nibble at the inside of your lip as you pull your bag around to your thigh and search inside for a pen. You pull out a leaflet, a Save The Children Pamphlet they pass around outside of the mall and wince as you tear a corner.
He watches you write down your number on the hood of his car. You do it quick, pass it to him quicker.
"You can just call me, let me know when you're free."
"I'm free when you are," he says like a loser. It's not even remotely true. Eddie's never free, but for you he's gonna make it happen.
"How about Thursday?"
Eddie nods. Roan slips down his side and looks between you both like she's watching a tennis match.
"Yeah, Thursday is perfect."
You smile. Eddie takes it all in, everything, your smile and your hair and your clothes and the way your fingers pull at one another. He can't believe you're the nervous one right now. His heart spins like a top in his chest.
"I'm sorry to ask you out and jet, but there's somewhere I gotta be," you say. You sound genuinely apologetic.
"No, of course-"
"But I'll see you on Thrusday. Outside of, um, Morgan's Desserts?"
"Sure, but-"
"Yeah?" you ask.
"I can bring Roan?" he asks.
Your expression softens. "Please. If you don't I'm gonna stand you up."
He laughs abruptly, a shock of it like a firecracker in his chest.
You move like you might leave but then pick up his grocery bag and pass it back it to him. "Bye, princess," you pause to say, looking melted by his daughter's puppy dog eyes, if he does say so himself.
"Bye," she says sweetly.
You nod at him. He nods back.
"Thursday," he calls at your retreating figure. You know, to make sure.
You shoot him a smile over your shoulder.
Roan turns in his hold to stare at his face.
"What?" he asks her.
"Chocolate?" she questions.
"Heard that, did you?" he mutters.
-
more eddie and roan
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celaenaeiln · 7 days
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On note of the Blockbuster thing and Dick’s over working himself, I can recall a time when after the first time Blockbuster got taken out, Dick was so lost emotionally and mentally, he went for months on end getting the absolute hardest cases and capers imaginable, getting more illnesses and injuries so much and frequently. It got so bad Bruce and Alfred had to drag him to the Batcave and Bruce had to get some tough love across.
He let Dick know that he was upset at him for failing to take care of himself and self forgive for what happened to Blockbuster. He forgives Dick for the latter case but will not tolerate Dick losing the value of his own life in self pity and guilt
Thoughts on this?
YES!!!
Dick overworks himself so hard that he kinda passes out and dreams so vivid that they're almost hallucinogenic but when he wakes up-
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #117
Bruce is PISSED. Ofcourse it's gotta be because Dick let Blockbuster die right? He just stepped aside and let Catalina take the shot despite the no kill. He broke the OATH the two of them had forged. That's why Bruce is mad right?!
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #117
WRONG WRONG WRONG!!
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #117
"You have no right to expect me to excuse you - for losing sight of the value of yours."
CMON BRUCE!!
He basically said "I don't care if you killed someone. If you want me to forgive you fine. But don't you dare fucking think for one second that I'll forgive you for almost dying."
Bruce is crazy about Dick. I've already talked before how he has control issues regarding Dick life but I want to reiterate that Bruce wants control of Dick's everything. His life, his relationships, his death.
You can see the visible rage in Bruce's body. You can see how hard he grips Dick's chin. He's furious that Dick would put his life below anyone's.
This isn't the only time Bruce gets furious at Dick almost dying either. Remember Forever Evil?
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Nightwing (2011) Issue #30
His sole reason for beating Dick is LITERALLY beat his frustrations and fear that Dick almost died!! He's the one that died Bruce!! Why are YOU mad?!
The thing about Dick and Bruce's relationship or rather Bruce's relationship with Dick is that Dick could literally be standing in a room of blood and corpses and the first thing Bruce would do is rush over to him and check if he's okay. And then scold him because "what if they're blood accidentally got into you, Dick? Haven't I told you the dangers of bloodborne pathogens and other transmittable viruses? How dare you let them hurt you!"
Bruce has a no kill rule but sometimes when Dick's life is in danger he definitely looks the other way. No punishment if Dick does something to someone else but he travels at the speed of light when Dick lets something bad happen to him.
Not only that, he doesn't mind other people dying if it means saving Dick's life. Between the world surviving and Dick, he will always choose Dick. And how do I know that? Because he's done it before.
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Forever Evil Issue #5
"No, this is a search and rescue mission first--"
"Richard Grayson?"
"Yes, Luthor. Once Nightwing's safe, we can take down the syndicate."
The world is in SHAMBLES.
Central City
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Forever Evil Issue #3
Metropolis
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Forever Evil Issue #3
The justice league is gone.
The villains who actually wanted the end of the world are so shocked by the state it's in now that they've decided to become heroes. But none of that matters. It doesn't matter to Bruce that half the population is gone, people are killing, stealing, and dying. As long as Dick is alive - it's okay.
In fact an entire world could be corrupted beyond saying but as long as Dick isn't then it's a world worth saving.
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Forever Evil Issue #3
Do you realize what this means? It means that Bruce's scale of measurement for evaluating the quality of a whole fucking planet IS Dick Grayson.
Even an hyper-intelligent construction questions what happens if his favorite, Dick, dies.
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Infinite Crisis Issue #3
What happened after Blockbuster, where Bruce completely ignored the death of him. Ah-I said ignored but the reality is created an excuse for - is completely in line with his relationship with Dick and more importantly highlights two things.
Breaking the no-kill rule is acceptable if it's Dick Grayson or relates to Dick Grayson.
Bruce is crazy about Dick and he will go crazy for him.
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callofdudes · 1 year
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Hello how are you are you good? May I ask for some headcanons? Please make it longer if possible. A wonderful cook with a female reader. For Ghost Simon and (separately)Konig, please? if you do this can you tag me in the post too please? have a nice day
No I totally didn't lose this in my drafts while trying to come up with stuff. I do hope the length is ok, sorry that it took so long 😓
Y'all are wholesale today! I like it! Thank you for the request @simligul I tried to make it as long as I could so I hope you enjoy.
Female! Cook x The Tall Boys.
(Each tall boy sold separately)
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Ghost:
He cannot cook to save his life. He knows how to put honey on bread and that is the extent of his knowledge.
He's gotten used to the MRE's that they're mandated to eat, but the first time you cook him a meal from scratch he falls more than he thought he ever could.
This man straight up either eats MRE's when he's at home or orders skip the dishes constantly to the point where it's kind of unhealthy.
Before you were living together he didn't know you could cook. He'd taken you out to restaurants but hadn't ever witnessed you active in a kitchen before.
So when he does...
You smile when he approached the kitchen, curious of the wonderful smells that are being produced. His nose leads him right to you in your apron with stains all over the cloth.
"What is this?" He asks, admiring the scene from the doorway and the apron you wore.
"What do you think? I'm making food."
He poked his head around and eyed the different ingredients simmering and popping in pans on the stove and his stomach cries out loudly. He looks back at you and you laugh at how he's practically begging you with his eyes. "Get out of my kitchen, I'll call you when it's done!"
He will come back every now and then to check on you (and the food).
When you finally set up the table and call him to eat he is borderline hyper. He sees all the steaming beautiful food and he will devour it all.
You are too good for him. Before he even sits down he will assure you that it looks absolutely delicious.
When he does manage to sit down and starts eating his stomach is beyond grateful. He had gotten so used to eating MRE's that he had genuine forgotten what it was like to eat a real meal. When he gets through the first three thrill bites his stomach grows three times the size. You yourself are a bit surprised by how much he ate. You barely had any leftovers to pack up.
Full of food and warm he'll hug you from behind while your washing the dishes and mutter thanks into your neck.
He'll hang around you for the rest of the evening and gratefully crash next to you in pure bliss.
From the day you first cooked for him forth Ghost longs for the days when he can return from war to your loving arms and a home cooked meal.
After going back to camp he'll occasionally mention that the food there tastes like shit compared to what you can make. This causes Soap to want to come with him on leave just to taste your food.
"I've missed you." He'll hug you close and rest against you for a while before taking off his head and stepping into the living room. Before he can even take his boots off he can smell the thick aroma of food. His stomach praises you loudly, making you giggle.
He takes off all his things and kisses you before going over to the kitchen. Again he will praise you for every bit of food on the table.
If he comes home after you've already packed up for bed, he'll check the fridge for food and there will be a little sticky note on the containers of leftovers. "Hey love. Sorry I couldn't be there to greet you. Tonight's dinner is xyz, have as much as you'd like."
He misses you when he isn't able to come back for the holidays. He loves hanging out with you around Christmas and Thanksgiving. But the food you make is so good around the holidays. He's always surprised by just how much effort you put into meals.
He tries to keep mention of you around base low. While he enjoys talking about you, he doesn't like the constant teasing from the others. But when Johnny starts to hear more about how good a cook you supposedly are, he is on his knees begging to come back to Simon's home with him for the holidays. And Simon was going to refuse, until somehow he didn't.
He thought you were going to be abrasive about all the guests when he showed up at his home with Price, Johnny, and Kyle right behind him, but you welcomed them with open arms.
Ghost smiled when you opened your arms and welcomed Price into your home. How you smiled so kindly and you were genuinely happy they were there.
There was no anger for being intruded on or barging to reach your husband, it was heartwarming to watch how you treated them.
When you'd met everyone and shaken their hands, you greeted Simon who was still taking his coat off. But that didn't matter. You pulled him into a short kiss before urging him toward the couch.
Simon and Price tried to help you with setting up the guest bedroom but you weren't having it.
"You lot must be exhausted. Sit, I'll have supper prepared in an hour." Simon smiled. "You're wonderful." You shoved him down onto the couch. "Rest, hang out with your friends." And you walked off to start preparing the guest room for the three.
You were right to assume they were exhausted. They tore their gear off and settled down on the couches. Finally getting to watch some good TV.
They didn't bother to move for the rest of the evening until you called them to dinner.
"Dinner is served boys!"
Kyle and Johnny were the first ones up and sprinting for the kitchen. Their stomachs empty of anything but the McDonald's they'd had early before their flight out.
Johnny was in heaven when he came in and saw the food. It was enough to feed a small army. He grabbed your hands and shook them roughly. "Oh Mrs. Riley you're an angel." You chuckled and handed him a plate as Simon and Price came in to inspect the food. "Take as much as you'd like, don't worry about leftovers and if I need to make more I can."
"Thank you ma'am." Price served himself.
Once they'd vacated the kitchen Simon gave you another kiss and took what the boys had left. "Do you want any?" He asked.
"Have it darling. You deserve it."
The boys were impressed with your cooking the first time. But when the 25 of December rolled around three days later it was a feast. You were happy to have Simon's friends along with your family for Christmas.
"Any friend of Simon's is a friend of mine. You are always welcome in our home."
Jokingly you get Simon a cookbook for Christmas so he can take it to the base with him. Whenever he gets the chance to go shopping (which is rarely) at least he'll be able to make something comprehendable with the foods.
Simon does eventually ask you to teach him to cook. And you'd thought he'd never ask. You started with basic recipes, something he could remember easily and come back to. A starter. And then you got out of hand. Sauce all over your apron and Simon getting his oil covered fingers all over you.
You taught him to bake as well. Because who else is going to make the 141 cookies? You couldn't keep sending them in boxes every month when mail slots opened up.
Simon enjoys baking more than cooking. He will lick all the utensils. If you're making chocolate cookies he'll lick the spoon/spatula/whisk, whatever you used he'll lick it clean. And you need to constantly supervise him when baking because will 100% eat raw cookie dough without fear of consequences.
"Simon! Don't eat that! You'll get sick!"
"fuck off!" He'll say as he playfully pushes you away and grabs another handful of dough.
If he ever comes across a dish he likes or thinks he'd like, he'll send a picture of it to you. When he goes to Mexico Rodolfo takes care of meals for the group and If Ghost likes something he'll hint you off like, "Hey Y/N, look at this really delicious looking dish... A shame I'll only be able to eat it once. Unless..."
Another thing he enjoys about it, is not just the food. But watching you cook. You have a smile on your face the whole time and you seem in utter bliss to cook for you, him, or anyone else.
And the apron.
Teasingly pulling on the strings from behind you or helping you take it off. It's small but it manages to mesmerize him every time.
If you are part of the military most of this still stands, when you first cool for him and the boys he's stunned and amazed. Maybe he's a little annoyed that you didn't start making food sooner when everyone was bitching and moaning about MRE's.
In the very, very, very rare instances where Simon is sick you're the type to not let him out of bed. Simon is either so sick he's unable to move or he can power through it, there is no difference to you. You'll lay him in bed and bring in a warm bowl of soup. And while Simon protests you'll cup his jaw and help him eat.
"I don't need help-"
"Shh, lay down Simon, let me take care of you."
"I hate how sweet you are."
"I love you too."
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König:
König knows a little about cooking, but not a lot. His mother taught him him how to make basic cultural dishes including some sweets.
He enjoys cooking on the occasion but the military doesn't offer him much for culinary adventure. So he's become less fluent. Put him in a kitchen however and he could make you a warm meal from his heart.
When you first cook for him, his mouth is watering. He's absolutely starving when he gets home from base and his surprise when he came to see you and your house was swimming with the smells of culinary love.
He'll slip into the kitchen and eyeball all the stuff that's going on. In a heartbeat he's on his knees for whatever your making.
"Darling- please! I haven't eaten a proper meal in so long!"
"Get out of my Kitchen König, I will call you when it's ready. Just rest."
This man will sit by the corner of your kitchen. He will make sure he's pressed up against the wall but not entering the space. He'll crawl into a ball and whimper to make sure you remember he's sitting there.
"König, it'll only take a couple of minutes." You chuckled when he starts to slowly drag himself back into the kitchen hoping you wouldn't notice.
When you finish up he is giving you the biggest puppy eyes he can. It's as if his irises grew in size, they're practically sparkling when you motion with your finger and he jumps up. "YES! Thank you!"
He grabs a plate and doesn't hold back to shovel food onto his plate and rush to the table to consume it all. There is barely enough for you this big boy took so much.
He's scarfing it down when you take your seat and all you can do is just lovingly stare at him. His eyes are practically glazed over when he tastes it on his tongue.
"Darling, this is absolutely amazing, thank you."
"You're welcome König, you deserve it."
This man goes into a full food comma. When he's out his plate in the dishwasher he goes and passes out on the couch. You find it absolutely adorable.
He's just passed out. Usually when König comes back home it takes him at least a day or two to take the hood off and another couple to full relax. But tired and full it's the first time you've seen him throw his hood on the coffee table and just pass out without a worry.
You're not even complaining.
König and you exchange recipes. While you teach him some of the dishes he doesn't know how to make, he'll show you how to make dishes from his home.
When he gets back he will not shut up about you. He won't tell new recruits or other members unless their already friends, subject of his anxiety. But he loves to talk about you with his small group of friends and his operatives team. You're his shining light.
When he starts digging into military food again his head is just filling with all the ways you could cook this so much better and slop in a tube was just as bad as it was when he first signed up.
He finds himself getting particularly homesick now whenever he eats food that is not cooked by you. He always thinks about the dish and it will relate back to you in some way.
After König teaches you to make his favorite sweets, you make sure to send him a tightly sealed box of them every month for him. (If they can survive over time ofc)
He shares with his team because he wants them to also taste your baking and cooking. He will proudly tell them how wonderful you are and after tasting the sweets they all agree.
König is a little more lenient with his leave time, so he gets to see you somewhat more often then others. When he returns again around Thanksgiving he isn't expecting utterly extravagant meal he finds.
He slouched against the door, tired and gross. He looks up when you come over. Your apron on and your hair up. You gasp when you see him. "I thought you were coming back tomorrow?"
König tiredly shakes his hand and opens his arms for you to rush into. He's sore but he hugs you tightly. You smell of freshly baked goods and spices. He breathes you in deeply and he knows he's home. He sighs and nuzzles his forehead against yours.
"I've got food on the table love, come join whenever you're ready."
"Thank you meine liebe."
When he does join you he takes in all the smells of home. His mind and his body starting to relax just at the hand of the fruits of your labor.
You guide him to the table and get him a plate. The area is well lit when he returns to make him feel comfortable.
The two of you will talk as he eats. And it's not unusual for him to go back for seconds or thirds. Sometimes if he's extra hungry he'll raid the pantry for food.
Crashing in bed after a warm meal is the best feeling. His stomach sated, he wraps his arms around you and feels his worries slip away.
You crawl in bed next to him and snuggle up against him. "Goodnight" and despite his food coma, König pulls you to his chest, content to stay here forever.
When he's on leave he offers to bring Horangi back to stay with you both, just so you can taste the food. He has no plans for his leave except sitting in the kitchen and enjoying whatever warm meal you've set up for him.
Bringing Horangi back then were both incredibly excited about your cooking. König could almost taste it and Horangi had heard many good things.
You were overjoyed to have Horangi over and cooked a feast for the two. Horangi's mouth was watering and all König could say was "Seeeee!"
Both König and Horangi sit by the kitchen entrance, watching you like cats going back and forth, back and forth.
The smell of the food is not lost on them when you bring them into the kitchen finally. Seeing everything you've prepared.
"This looks stunning ma'am, thank you a thousand times for having me." Horangi took your hands and squeezed them, unable to contain his excitement. Or his hunger. His stomach started to snarl before he could finish his expression of gratitude.
You once again stand back and let the men eat what the want. You weren't at all surprised when Horangi had just the appetite that König did.
It was funny watching them talk while they feasted, occasionally melting and having a brain aneurysm over how good it was.
Compared to the food on base, Horangi will now get on his knees and kiss the ground you walk on. You are a fucking angel for taking care of him when he comes over.
He will not stop talking about "König's wife can cook!! And you don't get any of it, because you're not invited! 😏"
König is just glad you're there for his friends, willing to provide hospitality and food. You can't turn down anyone it seems.
But he wouldn't change that about you.
He loves to dance in the kitchen with you. If you're cooking something and you have music in the background, König will come over, hands cupping your waist and drawing you toward him.
"And what are you doing??" You hold a spatula covered in sauce up to him and he licks it happily. "What does it look like??" You pulls you in and twirls you around the kitchen.
"König, watch out for the stove." You giggle.
He keeps turning and spinning you, pressing kisses to your throat and cheeks.
"I love you so much."
"I love you too you big goof."
He smiles, nuzzling against your neck, the smell of the spices imprinting on your skin. They must have. After you've cooked an apple pie you still smell of cinnamon. And it drives him crazy.
König loves you so much, he wouldn't dream his life any other way. And certainly not without you in it. He gives you another kiss and you shove him out of your kitchen.
"Food isn't really yet."
"But looooove-!" He whines.
"No, you'll have to wait. Like a good boy." You smirk.
He huffs, but he can't say no to that. So he plops down and sits longingly at the entrance of the kitchen, watching you as you cook.
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