#BUT he did learn a valuable lesson from that

[strange-aether]

my poor cat Merlin has trauma around paper bags from when he was just a kitten and jumped into a paper bag and he didn’t know yet about things like momentum and inertia and the fact that a paper bag is a very light object.

he made a terrible miscalculation.

he flew right into the paper bag at top speed and the paper bag kept going at top speed, smack into a wall. because my boy has a charmed life, that’s One Of The Worst Things That Ever Happened To Him. now whenever he hears paper bags he gets scared, though.

#the other worst thing was when I accidentally ALMOST ran over his tail with my office chair #it's when he was extremely small and little #I think the office chair juuust got a couple of his tail furs and he SCREAMED bloody murder #he also um. well he *expressed* himself. #as in he expressed his stink glands #the only time he has ever done that #and BOY was that bad #he ran away under the couch and I would have let him be but I had to fish him out to make sure the poor thing wasn't hurt at all #I checked him over and he was all fine but he sure got freaked out #BUT he did learn a valuable lesson from that #now he's careful not to hang out around my office chair when I'm scooching #but I was SOBBING because I felt TERRIBLE #the way he screamed I was sure I'd REALLY hurt him but he was alright #just quite shaken #poor tender little thing #he trusts me now at least #even after all that

[molagboop]

Branching off from the subject of Chozo vocalizations, Raven Beak has a reputation among his tribe for being capable of uttering a particularly diverse array of noises.

At the start of his career, he was the lead vocalist in his regiment's geltha: if his smattering of soldiers were to enter battle, he would be tasked with leading the warriors on his end of the formation in belting out thunderous intonations that would essentially serve as a long-distance threat display. Basically, it tells the enemy "we are here, we are armed, we can see you, and we have not yet chosen to engage you. Listen to our absurdly loud voices and the scary noises we're producing and make the decision to stand down, or else we're going to use these weapons to defend ourselves with impunity/slaughter your armies wholesale" (it's usually the former when these calls are made). This role requires having a powerful, authoritave voice that you can project for quite a ways away.

His vocal repertoire is very broad, and he is capable of being quite loud.

Now I want you to imagine Raven Beak, having freshly stepped into his role as Warlord, standing on the balcony of his coronation suite at the temple in Ferenia a few days into the festivities following his swearing in. The closest star is rising to usher in a new morning, its rays filtering brilliantly through the twisting, pocked geological formations on the sprawling mesa before him. The wind brushes past his form as he basks in the still-yawning glow of early daylight, carrying with it a modest flurry of sand, soil, and other particulates that would pass as irritants to human mucus membranes.

He has sacrificed much to climb where he is today: spilling blood, cheating death, meeting new people and losing others. He spends a moment solemnly reflecting on these losses before accepting that he has newfound duties to attend: what's done is in the past, and all he can do now is assume his role at the forefront of the Mawkin tribe's mighty horde.

He's a leader. A Warlord. The only one of his kind. A big shot. Even as he proclaimed himself worthy of the helm, he could feel their eyes on him: there are plenty among his people who would seek to topple his throne. They covet what he has taken through right of combat, witnessed by the Ancestors and the full breadth of his tribe.

Something within the pit of his throat hums, which carries up into center of his neck in a low drone. He rolls his shoulders, briefly shaking his head as he does. His chin tilts upwards and the plumage at the base of his neck stands erect as he puffs out his breast. The rumbling in his throat has extended to his chest, reverberating in his ribs and igniting an eager flame in the back of his neck. The drip of adrenaline is enough to transform the flame into a mighty blaze. He tosses his head up, beak protruding skyward and wings unfurled as he unleashes a stentorian call: guttural, resounding, and deep enough to rattle the bones.

The bellowing continues for a solid minute, interrupted only briefly by intermittent pauses which allowed air to rush into his lungs. It was almost rhythmic: a long bout of sound followed by two brief glottal stops before the throaty chorus continued, repeated without fail. He feels alive: it was as though all the wild rage within his breast burst forth in divine marriage to his boundless will. A challenge to the witless fools and ambitious opportunists who would dare consider themselves a worthy adversary.

Eventually, the new Commander brings his chin back down, closes his eyes, and takes a long breath. What would any of those leering would-be challengers have to show at this display? Nothing. Was this impulsive? Yes... but it was exhilarating to proclaim his might in such a base manner before the masses at the cusp of their slumber's end. This open challenge, a fierce warning, heralds a new day: the dawn of his reign. A proclamation of his status which many have likely awakened to first-thing.

Content with the morning's meditation, he finishes his preparations for the day ahead and makes way for the door to the suite, which parts at his beckoning...

... and on the other side lay a horde of at least a dozen warriors, all very happy to see him.

Consider my last headcanon post, dear follower: Raven Beak has just stood upon his balcony high above the greater temple complex and bellowed for all to hear. This can be interpreted by listening Chozo in one of two ways:

"I'm bigger and stronger than you: don't mess with me", or "I'm horny: come cavort with me".

#raven rooster canon. rooster beak. #sometimes it's best to think before you act. raven beak learned a very valuable lesson that day. #makes threatening cassowary noises: attracts a gaggle of warriors who agree that he's big and strong and so pretty and has a nice voice #'where did you all come from' #headcanons

[cloakedsparrow]

Clark calls the Batcave.

Jason: Hello?

Clark: Robin? It's Superman.

Jason: Yeah, you were ID'd before I even answered. What's up?

Clark: Uh, I stopped at a store after flying back into town and bumped into someone from work. We walked out together, so I had to pretend my car was stolen, but it's still at my apartment building. I wanted to know if Batman had any ideas for a cover.

Jason: Oh, no worries. I got you.

Clark: What do you mean?

Jason: I'll take care of it.

Clark: Oh...kay. Thank you, Robin.

Jason: No sweat!

Later, Clark discovers his car truly is missing. It's found with the tires, stereo, and catalytic converter removed, the wiring stripped, and the hood ornament knocked off. The police tell him that, sadly, this sort of thing has been happening more and more, even in their fine city.

Clark calls again.

Jason: Hey! Did everything work out with your car story?

Clark: Yes, thank you, Jason.

Jason: Great! Swing by later and I'll give you your cut.

Clark: You mean the missing parts of my car?

Jason: What? No. That shit's serial numbered. The cops would think you were pulling an insurance scam or somethin' if you put it back and anyone noticed. I sold the parts to a chop shop here.

Clark: You sold-?

Jason: Don't worry, my guy ain't a snitch. Your secret's safe!

Clark: ...Thanks.

Jason: No problem. I had to tell him you needed the car disappeared 'cause you were cheating on your old lady so he wouldn't think it was tied to something too bad, though.

Clark: I'll keep that in mind.

Jason: Oh, hey, B's here. You wanna talk to him?

Clark: Yes, please.

Jason: Cool. Talk to you later!

Clark: Bye, Jason.

Bruce: Clark.

Clark: I take it you know what happened?

Bruce: Yes. You learned a valuable lesson, didn't you?

Clark: Next time, I will definitely ask how he intends to take care of it.

Bruce: Good. I don't want my son arrested because he was doing you a favor.

Clark: I had no idea he was going to strip my car and sell the parts to a chop shop!

Bruce: You know how I found him. You knew the risks.

Clark: ...

Bruce: And you're letting him keep your cut.

Clark: Of course.

#ficlet #fanfiction #bat family #jason todd #robin #clark kent #superman #bruce wayne #batman #dc #comics #bruce goes full thug when it comes to his kids #batdat #bruce wayne's adopted children

[ifwebefriends]

My thoughts during “The Sign” [SPOILERS!!!!!]

ID in ALT

More thoughts under the cut

So I think most of us can agree that this is the best episode of Bluey so far. It was so emotional and satisfying in ways that are kinda new for Bluey. It answered so many questions while giving us a few new ones. I’ve been waiting for this episode for months and it did not disappoint in any way.

This is just a Chekov’s firing squad of an episode. As in a lot of stuff that was set up in earlier episodes all pay off in this episode. I kinda understand why people love soap operas now lol. I will say that this episode was a tad overwhelming for me in the best way possible. As in I had to pause and rewind every 30 seconds or so so I could emotionally process what was happening before moving forward (but that’s a me thing). There was just so much going on and I’m happy about that.

Now onto individual thoughts about specific things:

The callback to Baby Race (“you took your first steps in that house!”) really got to me because Baby Race was the first episode of Bluey that I watched and it immediately made me fall in love with it so it just got to me.

When Chilli said “Frisky and I came up here as teenagers to…um…think,” my mind started racing immediately with “what the FUCK happened at the Lookout?” “Who hurt Frisky and/or Chilli?” And I’m just so curious about what made Chilli say that line like that but we’ll probably never know what happened.

So yeah that scene at the end when the music was playing and Bandit ripped the sign out of the ground and Chilli tackled him to the ground ABSOLUTELY CHANGED my brain chemistry y’all. I can’t articulate my feelings any more than that.

I know some people were upset that Brandy ended up getting pregnant but I thought it was great for her! I’m happy for her! And I think that even though she got what she wanted in the end doesn’t negate the feelings she had about her infertility earlier. But I think we’re all wondering who the father is and I don’t know if the show really needs to answer that.

The whole message of “we’ll see” in terms of if something is good or bad is such a mature message that I never really thought of like that so I will be taking that philosophy forward in life. Congratulations Bluey, you managed to teach a 22-year-old childless person something new and insightful about life that I don’t think I’ve learned from another show.

I want to know more about what Bob was going through and feeling and why he went to India, but again, we’ll probably never know.

I just love how the wedding photos were beautiful but imperfect. Like of course we’re not perfect and nothing will ever be perfect but it’s beautiful and worth remembering anyway.

So many little jokes and moments were so funny in a mature way (I.e. “are we allowed to do that?” And Nana thinking there was about to be a baby announcement) were just so funny and memorable.

I think some people would say it’s a cop-out to end up not selling the house after building it up for 2 episodes but I don’t know, I think it works. I think Bluey and Bingo learned a valuable lesson and Bandit (and Chilli kinda) learned it’s not always about making their kids lives “perfect” in their eyes. Also I’m just personally glad they didn’t end up selling the house and I also kinda like that it wasn’t entirely their choice to keep it.

On a more serious note I think this episode has some interesting commentary on like gender roles and gender relations in straight relationships. In this episode Chilli and Frisky (both women) have to deal with their male significant others pressuring them to move with them far away from what they know and love. In the end they don’t end up moving and the men didn’t seem to have like malicious or selfish intent with it, they were just kinda basing their choices off their jobs instead of what’s best emotionally for their loved ones. But I think it’s interesting to have this conflict where gender is kinda brought up in a way (“because your husband is making you”). It kinda plays into the traditional idea of like men are the breadwinners and the family has to move with them regardless of what they actually want. And this episode kinda like deconstructs that and says “no, it’s not always about the job or money, it’s also sometimes about connections and emotional attachment.” And I’m not saying that you should never move or whatever, but really weigh your options. I just thought that it was interesting that this episode kinda touched on that.

So yeah that’s kinda the main thoughts I had on this episode if you made it this far thank you for reading my rambles and have a good one!

#Bluey #bluey the sign #meme #Bluey heeler #rad heeler #bandit heeler #chilli heeler #baby race #my ramblings #my rambles #frisky heeler #brandy cattle #spoilers #bluey the sign spoilers #bluey spoilers

[princessbrunette]

˚˖𓍢ִ🐰໋✧˚.🎀୨୧ ⋅˚₊

let’s go back to my roots. let’s talk about girly, prissy, spoiled bunny!reader with rafe.

you’re untouchable, kook royalty just for your attachment to the cameron’s but you don’t even care about all of that. all you care about, is rafes time money and attention.

he loves you a lot, but more so — he puts up with your shit. whilst you don’t have much of an attitude, soft in all corners of your life, you can still manage to be a nightmare. you clutter his sink with your makeup and skincare, decidedly a maximalist when it came to your self care and beautification rituals. he plucks a clump of mink eyelashes from the side of the sink, something he nearly mistook for a spider and sets it aside— only calling out a “jesus chr — bun, told you to clear out your shit. my bathroom looks like fuckin’ sephora. in here, now.” before he hears the soft padding of your feet come tottering along, happy to do as your told.

if that’s not making him huff and puff — it’ll surely be the outfits, moreso scraps of fabric you parade around in. expensive, according to his black card, for items of clothing that cover so little — and he can’t say you don’t get your moneys worth, toddling around in strappy powder pink dresses that leave nothing to the imagination or white mini skirts that cling to the fold of the bottom of your ass cheeks, giving not only the chumps at the country club a good look — but his closest friends too. his life had become a sequence of tugging down your hem, manhandling you to be decent. “you—y-you think i need my fuckin’ friends getting an eyeful of your pussy each time you move? are we gonna have to have another talk about what’s appropriate, bunny girl? huh? or maybe the belt will help you learn a valuable lesson. fuck.” he sulks, stomping around after his threat. you’re clung to his bicep with a dazed smile only five minutes later because his mean treatment usually flew through one bedazzled ear and came out the other. soft and dopey as ever.

back to him ‘putting up with you’, there’s a ton of reasons why that is. like aforementioned, he does love you a lot. you’re his little prized possession, his trophy. you were soft in all the ways that mattered and understanding, always listening when no one else would, even if he was admittedly in the wrong. that, and you really did fuck like a bunny rabbit.

you had a libido that was constantly set to high, all hours of the day. you were a chronic pillow humper when rafe wasn’t available to sate you, the man often times walking in to find you teary eyed with a white lacy thong binding your spread knees, pulled down just enough to grind your messy, glossy pussy against the fluffed white pillow from his side of the bed. because really, you were a chronic rafe humper— but you were well behaved enough to know that sometimes he had to handle business and didn’t have the time to feed your greedy cunt.

you’d grown accustom to taking him in any position too, whether it was in doggy style — waving your plush ass in the air, pointing that fluffy pink bunny-tail butt plug straight at him as you mewl into expensive pillows, or you’re crouched on his lap on the couch, feet planted either side of him, a high pitched whimper punched out of you each time you slam your hips back down on his cock, mushroom tip thumping your cervix. you said you liked the pain, liked when it bruised, liked when you could still feel him the next day when you missed him. reminded you of how grateful you are to have a boyfriend who dicks you good.

you had a little obsession that was serving as a problem though— having to give you plenty of ‘sit down talks’ when he talks to you real slow like you’re stupid because you keep begging him to breed you. it seemed no amount of “sweetheart, i’on know how many times i have to say this to get it through that head, but you are too young for a baby. i—i gotta get my shit together first, alright? promised you as many babies as you want after i secure tannyhill did i not? i…i really need your patience… okay?” would stop you from bouncing on his cock with a feverish and determined look in your eye, or locking your legs around his waist when he’s about to nut— babbling tearfully as you beg “please daddy, please gimme a baby. please want — want your babies!”

you’re lucky he was so much stronger than you, often wrestling you down to straddle your face and aim his cock at your mouth before he blew his load, gritting out a spiteful “well you’re gonna have to fuckin’ swallow them ‘til the time comes. fuck.” through gritted teeth as you mewl miserably (but lap it up nonetheless)

you gave him trouble, but nothing he couldn’t handle. he wouldn’t trade his spoiled bunny girl for the world.

˚˖𓍢ִ🐰໋✧˚.🎀୨୧ ⋅˚₊

#rafe cameron prompt #bunny!reader

[sttoru]

ෆ tags. dad!toji x female reader. toji letting baby megumi try all kinds of new food !

it was a typical monday morning: you were making breakfast for your little family, flipping pancakes and eggs as you left toji to handle the task of helping megumi go through his routine. once your husband had finished, he walked into the kitchen with your little child in his arms (this time holding the boy somewhat properly).

once you turn your head towards the two, you noticed how megumi was eagerly suckling on toji’s index finger—a habit of your son to signal you that he yearned for his daily nutrients.

“megumi’s biting my finger off,” toji exaggerates, yawning before moving towards the fridge and opening the door. the sudden breeze of cold air hitting his skin makes him shudder.

you laugh and flip a pancake, revealing its golden brown colour on the back, “i stored ‘gumi’s food on the second shelf. a little in the back.”

megumi’s tiny arms were already reaching out for the familiar bowl, making grabby hands at it as if encouraging his dad to feed him his meal. toji’s eyes, however, were scanning the entire content of the fridge for something new, “y’know, maybe it’s time to learn how to eat somethin’ else, kid. your taste buds need’ta get used to other foods.”

according to his ‘brilliant’ logic, it’s best to get kids used to new foods at a young age so they won’t become picky eaters later on. thus, toji grabs the most random combination of whatever looks edible. the gathered items consisted of pickles, strawberries, mini-carrots, tomatoes and a single lemon.

toji quickly glances over at you, but your attention was totally focused on the breakfast you were preparing. your husband takes his chance, puts megumi in his high-chair and cuts up all the food he grabbed to biteable pieces for the baby, “alright, i’ll give ya the freedom of choosin’ something on y’r own. go on.”

toji places the various items on megumi’s small tray. the boy stares at the food and picks a piece of strawberry first since the red colour was the most appealing. megumi munches on it, hands as well as his lips getting a bit messy. he didn’t seem to dislike it as his little pouty lips continued to move and digest the fruit.

“okay, so ya like the strawberries. noted.” toji makes a mental note of the new discovery, already planning on buying boxes of strawberries for his son.

once megumi swallowed the piece, the curious boy goes on and picks another type of food. this time it was a yellow coloured piece—one which megumi had no knowledge about. toji did, however, and was already grinning.

the man crossed his arms while he looked down at his kid who was about to go through an unpleasant experience. that’s what builds character according to toji, so why would he intervene and stop megumi from eating a lemon? finding out on his own will teach him a very valuable lesson.

the second megumi’s tongue picks up on the extreme sour taste, his nose scrunches up, eyebrows furrowing along with a disgusted noise escaping the back of his throat, “blegh!”

toji bursts out laughing and points at megumi whose tiny fingers were trying to wipe the taste off his tongue, spitting and almost crying from the unfamiliar taste that entered his mouth. most parents would help their child out and give them water to rinse their mouth, however the scene was apparently way too hilarious to your husband for him to even think about rushing to aid megumi.

you turn to see what the commotion was about and spot your son almost in tears from whatever he ate. you frown and walk up to the high-chair, inspecting the squished piece of lemon in megumi’s hand.

“mannnn, that was the funniest stuff i’ve seen in a while.” toji snickers once he calms down, finally grabbing a tissue to wipe megumi’s drool and spit off.

“poor baby.” you watch the small child stare at his dad with a pouty expression on his little face like he was awaiting on an apology of some kind.

even toji can’t deny it: he did somewhat feel bad now. those big and watery eyes looking up at him made him soften in a fraction of a second. the dark-haired man dumps the used tissues in the nearby garbage can and then walks back to the high chair;

“aww, okay, ‘m sorry.” toji coos and lifts megumi up in his embrace, smothering the child with kisses all over his exposed shoulders before softly poking the fat of his cheeks, “can you forgive your daddy, kiddo?”

“da-da!” megumi happily giggles without knowing the meaning of toji’s words. all the kid desired at that instant was more of his dad’s attention and affection. especially after what occurred a moment ago.

megumi was guaranteed to get what he needed since toji was already preparing to tickle and kiss his adorable son all over as an apology.

you chuckle and go back to making breakfast—your ears filled with high-pitched squeals from your son as toji’s voice called out for a ‘tickle attack’.

at least all was well in the end.

#ෆ : parenting 101. #jjk x reader #toji x reader #jjk fluff #toji fluff #jjk x you #toji x you #crisis averted ehem #shoutout to the requester 4 saving my ass #ilysm

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

Friendly reminder that the suffering and torment Xie Lian experienced actually made him LESS kind, and the lessons he learned as a result of that pain were that human life is meaningless and compassion is worthless and people don't deserve your help or care or love for them. Xie Lian had to backtrack and reject these new lessons in favor of the old ones he had already known in order to return to being kind.

Xie Lian losing everything he loved and knew, being stripped of his power, autonomy, safety, and community, and being ridiculed and humiliated, did not teach him anything worth knowing. He did not learn any valuable or important lessons from it. In fact, he needed to consciously decide that he wasn't going to let it change him and work to go back to the person he was before all that shit happened in order to avoid turning evil.

#TGCF #Xie Lian #Heaven Official's Blessing #i thought we were past this discourse but it's on my dash again #xie lian did not need to endure all that crap to learn any lessons #xie lian does not have a hero's journey! #TGCF is a flat arc #the protagonist starts off already knowing the thematic truth #it's the rest of the world that believes a lie

[mxtxfanatic]

Tbh, I think if you read an mxtx novel with the expectation that the story’s hero is meant to learn some valuable lesson that fundamentally changes their character and views on life, then you are reading her books wrong. There’s not a single mxtx protag (currently) in existence who changes by the end of the story. It’s the world they live in that is changed because of their actions:

—Shen Yuan’s Shen Qingqiu transforms a toxic masculinity fantasy into a queer romance in which the unhappy stallion protagonist with a harem in the 100s is given his monogamous happy ending with a husband he actually loves and values with reciprocity. They fuck off to their forever honeymoon after exposing the corruptness of the cultivation world that ruined Luo Binghe’s life to begin with, and all of this was only possibly because Shen Yuan was just a genuinely nice fucking person. The world lives to see another day and a fuckton of people who died (or didn’t even get to exist) in the original stallion novel get to live long, more fulfilled lives in Shen Yuan’s revision.

—Wei Wuxian is killed for sticking up for a condemned clan, is resurrected against his will, and still stands by his actions in his first life while protecting those that continued to wrongfully condemn him. As a reward, the corpses of the people he died protecting save him and his loved ones (and the rest of the bystanders who killed them), he bags himself the most perfect and perfectly matched man in the cultivation world, and he continues to help others and do what he wants to the ire of the cultivation world who are now too embarrassed to fight him. The younger generation look to him as a beloved teacher, protector, and role model to aspire towards.

—Xie Lian rebelled against hierarchy as a beloved prince of a prospering kingdom, then as a beloved god against the older gods, then as a reviled scraps god against the then most popular gods of the present day. He was always willing to lend a hand to anyone who needed it and to never hold resentment even if that kindness blew up in his face (and it often did). He gets to marry the man (ghost) who has seen him at his best and absolute worst and chooses him unconditionally, something no one else has ever done before. At the end of the novel, he is the god that all the other gods look to for guidance and strength.

None of these stories humble these characters for being good people. Even when their morally righteous actions net them unimaginably terrible results, even when they falter in the face of their failures, they ultimately remain true to their goodness. And none of the books humble them for that, because being good is not a character flaw. So in short: please stop talking about how mxtx protags “needed” to learn valuable lessons to “be good people” when they were already good people from the very beginning. These stories are not about how the world changes people but how genuinely good people can change the world just by actively being kind even with no benefit to themselves and especially if that kindness leads to detriment.

#human metas mxtx #mdzs #svsss #tgcf

[fandomsimagined]

Don't Go Dark - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Title: Don't Go Dark

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Female!Reader

Summary: Kaz Brekker realizes that he has feelings for his healer.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: What you could expect from Six of Crows

A/N: This is my first time writing for Kaz, so if it's out of character, I apologize. I kind of gave up and phoned it in at the end so if you can tell, I'm sorry. Very loosely inspired by the song Don't Go Dark by Bleachers.

For most of his life, Kaz Brekker called the Barrel home–despite the fact that there was really nothing homey about it–and there was one thing that he knew for certain about the dreadful place: that it always had a tendency to contort even the purest of things into something nasty. No one was good-natured for the sake of it. If someone was kind, it was usually a ploy, as he very well knew. That was one of his first lessons in survival. Love was a weakness that oftentimes had disastrous consequences. The only thing to come from the Barrel was carnage. The currency was blood, and he’d paid his share and then some with his own, and with others. Only the most ruthless and ungodly people prospered, and prosper he did. 

Believe it or not, he did remember the short life he had before the Barrel. He remembered his father and their farm, and he remembered after his father died when Jordie sold the farm with the promise that they would find fortune in Ketterdam. That was when he’d learned the most valuable lesson that there was to learn. That the only person he could truly count on was himself. To love nothing and trust no one. If he loved nothing, then there was nothing to be used against him. Nothing that anyone could take from him. It got lonely, but it had kept him alive for this long, a feat not many accomplished, so that was how he lived. 

She was different. She didn’t live under the same guise of violence as the rest of Ketterdam. She didn’t have the same mentality: that things can always–and most likely will–get worse. She didn’t hold grudges. Not like Kaz did. Kaz was fueled by vengeance and spite. He took whatever was thrown at him in stride with the knowledge that he would find vindication by dealing a much harsher punishment. 

The winter chill bit to the bone, an unfortunate truth for Kaz especially, whose bones were already not in well-working order. His limp was more pronounced as he made his way to his office (formerly Haskell’s). The Dregs were still bustling about, doing Saints knows what, but none would bother him. It was late, the state of his face was less pristine than when he’d left, and his permanent scowl was even more noticeable than usual. No, they would leave him be.

The meeting with the Razorgulls had gone as well as he’d expected, which was not well at all. They weren’t too happy to see him, still holding a grudge over Pekka Rollins’ quite unfortunate downfall. They’d landed a couple of punches, but he always had the upper hand, and they were smart enough when it was over to abandon Fifth Harbor entirely.

His office door was slightly ajar, something that didn’t bode well. He knew that the healer would be waiting for him, but she was never so careless to leave the door open, as there were quite a few documents and collectibles that he preferred to keep away from the other Dregs. 

He pushed the rickety door open and immediately he could feel that something was off. She was sitting in the extra wooden chair that he kept there (mostly for her and Jesper since he rarely gave anyone else the privilege to stay in his office for long periods). He sat in his desk chair, his gloved fingers thumbing through the papers that he’d left. Nothing important, just something to keep him occupied. 

Kaz Brekker noticed everything; meaning that Kaz Brekker noticed her trembling hands, though she tried to disguise it by keeping them folded in her lap. He noticed her red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks that she’d tried to hide, and he noticed that she was jumpier than usual. Something had happened, that much was obvious, but he wouldn’t push. If she wanted to talk, she would, otherwise, it was none of his concern. Though, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anger at the mere idea of anything happening to her.

“Again? Kaz, you really should be more careful.” It was no surprise that she was born a healer. It was quite literally in her nature to be caring. She was born to fix things. 

“Why? If I were to die tomorrow, all of Ketterdam would breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe even cheers to the occasion,” Kaz scoffed. It sounded grim, but it meant that he was good at what he did, so he saw it as an honor of sorts. He was in control.

“I wouldn’t.” She frowned. She moved to stand above him, getting leverage so she could properly heal his face. Her lips were pursed in concentration as her fingers hovered over a gash on his cheek. It was a strange feeling. It was like he could feel the skin stitching back together as she worked. It was like an itch. “I quite like having you around.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” Kaz raised his eyebrows, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “What are you getting at? A raise?” 

“Oh please, why would I even bother trying to flatter you?” She rolled her eyes. “Not when I know all I have to do is compliment Jesper’s hat, give him a few kruge to gamble away, and he’ll talk you into whatever I want.”

“And here I thought that you were too soft for the Barrel.” Kaz smirked. 

“I’m serious, what are you going to do if I’m not around to fix you up?” 

He thought about the statement carefully. The implication of the words. That was the confirmation he needed to push for further information. She’d opened the door. “Are you planning on going somewhere?” Maybe that’s why she was acting so strange. She seemed like the type to get all weepy about leaving. He wasn’t particularly fond of the idea himself. It would be harrowing work trying to find a new healer. Especially a trustworthy one, but he wouldn’t stop her if that’s what she wanted. He just wouldn’t pretend to be happy about either.

“No!” She exclaimed quickly. “No, of course not.” Her quick response and furrowed brow were a relief. She wasn’t planning on leaving him. Not yet, anyway. 

“Well, if you’re not planning on leaving, then I suppose I don’t have to worry about it then, do I?” Kaz spoke bluntly, though he supposed if she listened close enough, she would hear the twinge of satisfaction hidden beneath. It was selfish. Ketterdam was a grim place, but he didn’t want her to leave. She made it a little less grim. 

Her fingers moved eloquently, drifting over his broken nose, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her palm. It did him well not to think about how close she was to him. It would probably send him into fight-or-flight mode if he did. 

He winced as he felt the bone setting back into place. It was nothing that hadn’t happened before, though he wasn’t sure that he would ever get used to the damn itch that plagued the area as she was working her magic. That wasn’t what bothered him, though. What bothered him was that she hadn’t spoken again, something that was quite unlike her. Normally she would be scolding him or telling him all about whatever had happened at the Crow Club that afternoon. No, she hadn’t spoken and she hadn’t provided any elaboration to her previous statement. 

“Is everything alright?” He pressed further. If it was anyone else, he would’ve left it be. A problem for another day, but this wasn’t anyone else. 

“No… I mean…” She started and paused, turning to face the wall to her side as if avoiding looking at him. He was relieved that she wasn’t planning on leaving the Dregs just yet, but there was something bothering her and he couldn’t deny being slightly concerned about what it was. Had something happened at the club while he was gone? Surely one of the others downstairs would have mentioned something to him when he walked in if it had. But, there was no way to be sure. 

She turned back to face him, taking a shaky breath as if trying to figure out what to say. “This afternoon while I was on my way to the club, a man grabbed me. Put a knife to my throat and said that if I didn’t give him all of my kruge, then he would slit my throat, watch me bleed out, and then take it all anyways. It wasn’t even much, just seventeen, but he was willing to kill me for it.” He clenched his jaw as she recounted the story. He wouldn’t interrupt, but he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t already plotting on what he would do when he found the bastard. She reached up to fiddle with the necklace chain that she always wore, but it was missing. He’d taken her locket too.

“I was sure he would kill me even if I gave it to him, I saw his face for Saints’ sake, but I just… It made me think about if something had happened to me, then who would be here to make sure that you didn’t get yourself killed? I mean, you’ve almost done it several times with me here and I’m one of the best healers in Kerch, not to pat myself on the back or anything…” She was one of the best healers in Kerch. That was why he’d recruited her in the first place, and that was why she was under his protection. Though, he thought that she might’ve been exaggerating. He was pretty sure, he only almost died twice, and only once was his fault. 

“Who was it?” Kaz said through gritted teeth. It was unlikely that it was anyone from a rival gang. It wasn’t a secret that she was associated with the Dregs and they weren’t stupid. Pulling a stunt like that would start a war, especially since it was in Fifth Harbor. That was his territory. No, the only one that bold would be the Dime Lions, but they would’ve killed her to send a message. This was probably some random person off of the street if he had to guess. Looking for a quick buck, so they thought why not steal it? What they didn’t know was that they’d stolen it from the wrong woman. 

“Kaz-”

“Who was it?” He repeated. 

“It doesn’t matter. The point is, that I might not be here next time you decide to go and get yourself all bloodied up, and what if it’s more serious next time?” He didn’t like the way that she was talking so casually about the prospect of dying. Like it was inevitable, and she was making her final arrangements before she went. 

“Listen to me carefully. Nothing’s going to happen to you because I won’t let it.” It was a statement not a question. He would make sure to get the message across that not only was she associated with the Dregs, but she was under the protection of Dirtyhands himself, and he would make sure to send a very clear warning as to what would happen should anyone get the bright idea to lay a finger on his crew again. 

“You’re not always going to be there to protect me, Kaz. We all know it’s only a matter of time. People like me don’t make it very long  here. I’m not strong, or smart, or resourceful enough…” Her eyes were glassy, trying to hold back the tears that were forming in her eyes. He was confused. None of those things could have been farther from the truth. She may have been soft, sure, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t smart or strong. She had to be strong to have put up with him for so long. He wasn’t known to be the most facile person in the world. 

“Nothing is going to happen to you.” Kaz’s voice was gravelly. It was rough. In fact, he’d often heard it described as the voice of a demon, or the devil himself. There was nothing soothing about it, yet he saw her shoulders slump in what seemed to be relief. That even though the Saints had never looked out for her, he would. 

She didn’t say anything else. Neither did he. That was that. There was nothing left to be said. He didn’t make promises that he didn’t intend to keep. He lied, he stole, he killed, but he didn’t break his promises. And there wasn’t a promise that he ever intended to keep more than that one. 

She silently worked on mending the split on his cheek. The Razorgulls had gotten a couple of good shots in. More than he thought, and he was starting to feel it, though he wouldn’t for long. 

“Stay at the Slat tonight.” He finally broke the silence. She didn’t live far, but clearly she wasn’t safe and he couldn’t have that.

“What?” She shot him a puzzled look. It was seemingly out of the blue, and he didn’t exactly give much room for any discussion. 

“I want you to stay at the Slat tonight. It’s late, you shouldn’t walk home in the dark.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kaz perused the selection at Alwynn’s pawn shop. When he’d noticed that her necklace had been stolen, he knew that it had probably ended up in a pawn shop somewhere. No one stole jewelry off of ladies on the street to wear. No, clearly he needed money. 

He’d expected to have to go to more than one shop to find any relevant information, but no. It was almost too easy. He’d spotted the necklace on a display in  the front of the store. He recognized it immediately. The dainty gold chain could’ve easily been confused, but the locket that dangled from it, couldn’t be. 

“Mr. Brekker, I didn’t think of you as the jewelry type,” Alwynn gave a short laugh. 

“Well, Alwynn, there are quite a few things you don’t know about me.” 

“That, I’m sure of.”

“How much did you buy it for?” Kaz inquired.

“Bought it for twenty-five. Selling it for forty-two.” Kaz wasn’t surprised. Alwynn had always been a crook. 

“Who brought it in?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t say. Merchant-client privilege, I’m sure you understand.” Alwynn appeared nervous now. Good.

“I’ll pay double the price.”

Alwynn thought for a moment. “His name’s Griffin. He came in yesterday afternoon. He’s been staying in the alley beside Burke’s.” 

“Thank you, Alwynn. It’s been a pleasure as always.” He was well aware that he probably could’ve stolen the necklace or threatened him without spending the kruge, but he decided to, for once, pick his battles. He slid over the proper amount of kruge before making his way to the door.

Kaz found Griffin exactly where Alwynn said he would be.He’d clearly been staying there, the pile of rags on the ground and empty bottles were scattered beside them. He almost felt sorry for him. He almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Kaz approached Griffin, making his presence known. The man, probably around twenty or so, must have been at least a little intelligent, because his expression was a mixture of fear and confusion. 

“Good evening Griffin,” Kaz crooned. “You know, I heard from a close source of mine that you met a lady around this area yesterday afternoon.” 

“I meet a lot of ladies around here.” Griffin scoffed.

“Well, this particular lady said that you threatened her. Stole her money and a necklace. Surely you would remember that. Unless, you make a habit out of stealing from women. Do you?”

“What?” 

“Do you only target women to  pay for your alcohol addiction, or was this particular lady just a special case?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sputtered. 

“How much did you take?” Kaz growled, ignoring the obvious lie that had escaped from his mouth. He didn’t need an answer. He already knew. 17 kruge and her necklace (which he’d gotten thirty-five for at the shop), but he wanted to hear him admit it. 

“I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even if Kaz didn’t already know he was lying, it wouldn’t have been hard to tell. The sweat beading at his forehead, the way his eyes darted, the fact that he had around fifty-two kruge worth of bottles at his feet. It was too easy. 

“This wouldn’t happen to jog your memory would it?” Kaz held the chain out. Griffin’s face went pale. It was as if all of the color had simply vanished. “So, I’ll ask again: how much did you take?” 

“Not a lot, just seventeen kruge, and I’ll-”

“You’ll pay it back. In fact, you’re going to pay back the seventeen that you stole, the eighty-four I had to pay to buy the necklace back from the crook you sold it to, and an extra thirty kruge for making me get out in this dreadful cold to track down you and this necklace.” Kaz felt it to be a fair trade. For him at least. 

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Well, I suggest that you find it before the week is out. Paid in full, and after that, I don’t want to see you back in Fifth Harbor again, and if I do, I’ll make sure that you end up at the bottom of the Harbor.” He turned to walk back towards the street, but he turned back before he got there. He swung his cane, hard, at Griffin’s right hand–his dominant one–earning a howl of pain. “Next time you decide to steal jewelry from a woman on the street, I would suggest selling it to a shop that’s not only a few feet away from where you’re staying.” 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s this?” She looked puzzled at the pouch of kruge that he’d dropped on the table in front of her. Kaz didn’t answer, and realization flooded over her face. “Kaz…” she gave him a stern look. “You didn’t kill him, did you? I would feel really guilty if you killed him.”

“Relax, I didn’t kill him.” Kaz scowled. “But, he won’t be bothering you or anyone else around Fifth Harbor anymore.”

“That really makes it sound like you killed him…”

“I did not kill him. I simply reminded him that it’s not very polite to threaten women.” Kaz rolled his eyes. “Besides, if I’d killed him, I wouldn’t have gotten this back, would I?” He draped the gold chain over his gloved fingers. It was beside the point that he’d found the necklace before he’d found Griffin, and that he could’ve easily gotten it back had he killed him. She didn’t need to know that. 

“You got my locket back?” She gasped in disbelief. She took the chain, eyes wide. “How? Wait…” she paused. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“I’ll have you know that you’re missing out on quite the lovely story, then,” Kaz teased. 

“I’m sure. I think it’ll be far lovelier if I never find out, though.” She chuckled. “Because something tells me it involved some of your more extreme measures.”

“Not extreme enough if you ask me. He got to keep all of his fingers. You know if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’re making me soft.”

“Thank you.” She offered him a gracious smile. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kaz had never been one to fear others. He was fairly confident in his ability to fight his way out of a skirmish, should one come up, so why would he? He’d fought off far more men than the three in front of him on his own. What could he have to fear?

He had never been afraid, but all it took was a few goddamn words and his blood turned to ice. “It would be a shame if something were to happen to that healer of yours, wouldn’t it?” A threat. A barely subtle attempt at one. In any other case, he probably would’ve laughed it off. Come up with some witty response. He didn’t have it in him. What if it wasn’t a bluff?

“If you touch her, I swear to you, I’ll gut you,” Kaz snarled. It wasn’t the smartest move. Now, there was no doubt that he cared. That they could use her against him. 

“The Bastard of the Barrel does have a heart, eh?” Rowell sneered. His last encounter with the Razorgulls hadn’t ended as smoothly as he’d hoped. They’d gone searching on him. Trying to find–well he supposed they did–find leverage. They’d finally found Kaz Brekker’s weakness. 

The words echoed through Kaz’s head. “Rowell, if you touch her, I can always pay a visit to Broad Street. I seem to recall that’s where your wife and daughter are? If I find out any of your men touched my healer, I’ll put a bullet in their heads myself.” He was good for it. Rowell knew it. He had never been above killing, and that was when he didn’t have something to lose. 

Rowell’s face contorted in alarm. Kaz knew where his family was. Kaz had just as much leverage as he did. The only difference was Kaz was far more ruthless than Rowell ever imagined. 

“You may think you’ve found my weakness, Rowell, and maybe you have, but you should know by now that I don’t respond well to threats. If you’re going to do something, do it. Otherwise don’t waste my time and your breath just telling me about it.” With that, Kaz began his trek back to the Slat. For the first time in quite a long time, he was scared. They could very well call his bluff. By this point, Rowell could have already gotten to her by now. He’d spent so much of his time focusing on protecting her from the Barrel, that he’d forgotten that association with Kaz Brekker was the biggest threat of all. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been weeks since Rowell’s threat. He hadn’t taken it lightly. He didn’t think Rowell was brave enough to do anything, but if he’d noticed, it was only a matter of time before others would too, if they hadn’t already. 

He’d decided to keep his distance. That was the only way he knew how to keep her safe. Kaz Brekker was the most feared man in the Barrel because he had nothing to lose. If it came out that he did in fact care for anything… well he had a lot of enemies that would waste no time doing everything in their power to take it from him. 

He’d been avoiding her altogether. She was hurt. He knew that. It was better for her to be hurt than dead. 

He was making his way up the stairs to his study, ready to shut himself for the night to plan for the upcoming job he’d secured. It was nothing big, probably him, Jesper, and a couple of the newer recruits for the Dregs. Test their loyalty before anything major. 

He saw her near the bar talking to Jesper, laughing at something he’d said. He swiftly turned away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Xavier (ironically one of the new recruits he was planning to take) grab at her waist. He was quite intoxicated, slurring a remark that he couldn’t hear, but was almost certainly derogatory. She politely pushed him aside, muttering a soft ‘no thank you’, but Xavier wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

Kaz didn’t even have time to think, really. He didn’t have to think. It was instinct. He ignored the pain in his leg and crossed the room. He’d never been the biggest fan of Xavier, so he didn’t feel too guilty about the punch that landed on the boy’s jaw. His knuckles throbbed from the contact, but he ignored it. When Xavier offered to try and return the blow, Kaz dodged the jab and cracked his cane over his back. 

“This is a respectable establishment, and that means when a woman says ‘no’ that’s the end of the discussion.” 

Kaz avoided her gaze, and made his way up to his study, but he was followed. 

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Kaz muttered, sitting in his chair, finally resting his leg. 

“You’ve spent weeks acting like I don’t exist, and now you’re getting in bar fights to defend me? And what? You’re just going to go back to ignoring me?” She was hardly a confrontational person, so Kaz knew that she was angry by the sudden outburst. “I don’t get it. What did I do to make you decide that you hate me?” 

Surely she didn’t really believe that he hated her. “I don’t hate you.” He still didn’t look up. 

“So, what is it then?” She was blinking back tears. He felt guilty, a feeling that he didn’t even know he was capable of. 

“You seriously don’t get it?”

“No, I don’t get it!” She shouted. 

“I care about you!” He blurted. “Far more than I should.” His confession earned a scoff. “You don’t believe me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “No, I don’t believe you. Why would I?”

“Why? What would I possibly have to gain from lying to you about that?”

“I don’t know, but I never know anything with you!” 

“Fine, if you don’t believe me, then go. If you think I’m lying then why are you still here?” He didn’t believe that she didn’t believe him. She wasn’t stupid. He knew she wasn’t. 

“I just want to know why! Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I already told you the truth, so what do you want from me?” Kaz suddenly felt defensive. “I care about you, and people noticed. Rowell threatened you straight to my face, and I realized that if people thought that you meant anything to me, then they’d come after you. They’d kill you to get to me, and that can’t happen.” 

“So, it was that easy then? You got scared that someone was going to come after me so you decided to just stop caring? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“That is not what I said. What I said was that if they thought that you were important to me, they would come for you. I never said that meant I stopped caring.” Kaz huffed. “This is the only way that I can be sure you’re safe.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I have a stake in this too?” She was letting the tears fall freely now. “I don’t care who comes after me.”

“I can’t lose you.” Kaz shook his head. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I can’t guarantee that people won’t come for you. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I haven’t exactly made a good reputation my priority.” Kaz attempted a joke, but really it served more as a warning. A glimpse into what being close to him would entail, which would mean always looking over your shoulder. 

“Believe it or not, I have actually caught on to that part…” She let out a soft chuckle. 

He reached up, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face. He took the opportunity to rest his gloved hand on her cheek. He felt his body tense. His hand fell. Flashes of the nightmare that he’d endured. Jordie’s cold grey skin. The smell of waterlogged rotten flesh. It was as if he was back in the harbor. Surrounded by nothing but death and decay. 

She seemed to notice his ordeal. Concern flashed through her eyes. “Are you feeling alright, Kaz?” He’d never told her about his brother. He’d never told anyone, really. As far as he was concerned, Kaz Rietveld had died in that harbor, but that wasn’t all true. If it had, he wouldn’t be damn near hyperventilating because he’d touched her. It was stupid. He was stupid. He couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. She probably thought he’d lost his mind.

“I think you need to rest,” she suggested. “I’ll run downstairs and grab you some water, I’ll be right-” 

“No.” His voice came out hoarse. 

“Kaz, you look like you’re about to pass out, I think you should drink something.” 

“I want you to stay.” He sounded needy like a child and he hated it, but he also meant every word. “Please stay.” He grabbed her hand. Only this time, it was easier. He wasn’t thinking about death and despair. He wasn’t thinking about Jordie. He was thinking about her. 

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #grishaverse #six of crows #imagine #fanfiction #Spotify

[lotusmi]

A miracle is the easiest thing

From ''Lester and Me, My Unforgettable Conversations With American Master, Lester Levenson (Seretan, Stephen)'' "The irony is that as we release this want, or any desire totally, we obtain what we were wanting"

"Could I let go of Resisting _ (whatever it is)? Would I? When?" this too "What do I resist about doing ? Or getting __ done? Could I let go of resisting it? Would I? When? Repeat on the same item until you feel great!" Many people think that taking a lot of action on a goal will result in success… how many of you have discovered that this is not always true? Ramana Maharshi said, “Action is prescribed for purification of the mind only.” In other words, (...) if you don’t release it, you get bogged down. Lester said, “I only know what I can DO!” and he set about proving to himself his powers and testing out how free he had become. Lester told me to let go of resisting what IS, and release to make it the way I choose. He did not advise anyone to control people into doing it OUR way. Expressing our misery is not releasing. Trying to control things puts us out of control. Releasing our need to control (with the Sedona Method) puts us in control. So what can we learn from this to apply to our lives? Allow what IS to BE. Don't resist it. Karl Jung said, "What you resist, persists." Let go of the need to change everything you see and experience. It might be there to teach you a valuable lesson. Let go of wanting to be right and make others wrong.

Lester told me that a miracle is the easiest thing in the world to do. Why? Because it is the working of natural law. All Masters are able to totally control the physical world and produce at will whatever they choose.

#law of assumption #neville goddard #living in the end #manifesting #loa blog #non dualism #nonduality #lester levenson

[avocado-writing]

hihi! can i please request the bg3 male companions + rolan and a tav who can’t read? my tav grew up in the woods so although they’re a strong folk hero, they can’t read and they’re very insecure about it!!! thank you so much! i love ur work avo

what a sweet idea for a Tav! Writing as if you want to learn to read when the truth comes out.

Astarion

Wants to be catty but can see how genuinely upset you are by the idea he’s mock you, so holds off.

He’s so used to being dramatic he can’t work out how to be genuine with you about this.

Gets some advice from around the camp - mainly Wyll - about good starting off books, and makes a shopping trip.

If you want him to he sits with you and helps you sound out the words, even when you’re frustrated, and is so pleased whenever you’re proud of finishing a sentence.

Gale

If you want to learn, he’ll teach you - but it will be hard going.

You have a lesson every night. It’s infuriating. He’s very calm and patient though, never mocking you for not understanding something or taking a while to get it.

Is overly reassuring, letting you know it’s fine you didn’t know until now and he’s proud he can help you take that step.

The first thing you wrote him - a thank-you note with a shaky hand - is pressed in the jacket of his favourite book, a precious keepsake.

Wyll

Will offer to help teach you, or if you’d prefer, will get you a tutor when times are more settled.

If the latter, when he is duke, he gets you the finest teacher to help you learn how to read.

If the former he gets a set of his childhood favourites and helps you sound out the words, enthusiastically encouraging you each and every time.

Eventually he writes you love letters to read, and then you write them back - and he has a treasured timeline of your courtship to keep.

Halsin

He did not grow up learning to read, either. There were far more important things in the forest. Letters have their place, of course, but nature is far more valuable.

If you want to learn, you join in the lessons with the cartloads of children he adopts under the guise of observation - and afterwards he’s always happy to see how you’re getting along.

At the same time there is no pressure. He loves you as you are and sees no reason for you to change, unless it’s something you want for yourself.

Rolan

You’re so used to bickering with him, he’s floored when this truth is revealed - he wants to say something petty but knows the look of hurt in your eyes, waiting for him to sling barbs.

In fact he leaves mid-squabble because he’s so surprised.

The next day you come to find he’s been doing research for you - spells which make reading easier to parse, text-to-speech enchantments, any discreet tutors around the city…

He’s too proud to accept your thanks, still the same silly stubborn tiefling you fell for. But you do see his cheeks grow flushed when you kiss him…

#rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolan bg3 x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #Gale of waterdeep x tav #Astarion x reader #astarion x tav #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #wyll ravengard x reader #my writing #bg3 imagine #Gale x reader #Gale x tav

[hangmansgbaby]

Congratulations!!! 🥳

Can I get our good man Bob Floyd and "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."

~@roosters-girl

This one is so self indulgent cause I’m this way!

Blanket Stealer

Summary: Bob sleeps over for the first time and learns a valuable lesson about stealing the blankets

Prompt: "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."

Pairings: Bob Floyd x reader

Word count:<300

Masterlist | 300 Cele Masterlist

He warned you before you ever laid down for the night.

“I tend to pull on the blankets in my sleep so I am apologizing in advance.”

Bob Floyd is a blanket hog and you are getting the full effect of it right now.

You lay staring at the ceiling, cold with no blankets laying over you. You glance over at your boyfriend who lays comfortably under the sheets, warm. You groan as you once again tug the blankets back over, curling your arm around the corner to keep it tight.

Its minutes later that you feel the tug of Bob pulling the blanket back.

“If you steal the blankets again, I am going to put my cold feet on you.” You say allowed, knowing he was too asleep to hear it, and sure enough Bob tugs the blanks back over to his side. “Have it your way, Bobby.”

You turn to angle your feet towards him, slipping them under the blankets and placing them flat against his calves. You start counting.

“1… 2… 3…”

“Holy shit why are they so cold?!” Bob jolts up, pushing your feet away.

“You stole the blankets, I put my cold feet on you.” You glare at him as he sits up, pushing the blankets towards you.

“I’m sorry, Sweet Pea. I did tell you.”

“You’re buying me longer blankets, Robert Floyd, or your gonna learn to sleep closer to me at night.” You state, tugging half the blankets over yourself.

“I’ll cuddle you all night if that makes you feel better.” Bob laughs softly, scooting closer to her.

“It will actually.” You say, laying on your side away from him.

Bob scoots over, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Good night, Sweet Pea.” He whispers, kissing you cheek before falling asleep next to you.

#gbaby 300 celebration #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x reader #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagines #bob floyd fluff #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd imagines #robert floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd #top gun fic #top gun fluff #bob top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun bob #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fan fic

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ Tough Fall

Gender neutral

- order 74 | shorts | Housewardens

Just slipping on a banana peel in front of them

Riddle was about to greet you and then suddenly you’re on the floor. Who left a banana peel on the floor?!? He was going to warn you to not step on it up there you go. Leaving banana peels on the floor is a serious offense! He helps you up and he will get justice for you. He asks around and interrogates everyone that happened to walk in that hall. And somehow he actually finds the culprit. Honestly his lecture was funnier than your fall. “Do you think it’s funny to leave banana peels on the floor?! Because of your laziness, someone got hurt!”

Leona was doing his usual. Just napping in the Botanical Garden. He wakes up from your loud footsteps and then you just— hit the floor. That’s your fault. How did you not see the bright yellow thing on the floor? You’ve never seen him laugh hard before. He needs to thank whoever left that banana there. You fell real hard because you’re just laying there. He helps you off the floor but he’s never letting you live that down.

Azul was waving at you as you pass by and then you scream and slip. He’s fighting back his laughter. He has to cover his mouth and turn the other way for a moment to gain his composure. Then he helps you up with his business man persona. “Oh, that was a.. hard fall.” It’s just humiliating the way he’s giggling at you. At least he helps you up and makes sure you aren’t hurt.

Kalim was skipping down the hallway. He saw that banana peel and didn’t step on it thanks to Jamil warning him about it. Then you see him and come running his way. “Wait! There’s a banana peel—“ You wave your hands all over the place before hitting the ground. While Jamil is losing his shit over this, Kalim is freaking out. He helps you out and probably starts scolding at the banana. How dare it make you fall?

Vil is always aware of his surroundings. He saw that banana peel already but didn’t want to dirty his hands picking it up. He was gonna notify one of the janitors but you come running out of no where. You land face forward, right at his feet. Frankly, he’s embarrassed for you. Why were you running in the halls anyway? If you’re injured anyway he treats it right away. Hopefully you learned a valuable lesson.

Idia was out of his room for once. He almost stepped on it himself but moved away from it before he actually did. He turned around to just stare at it. “People here are so sloppy. The garbage can was right there…” Then you come up running down the hall like it’s track. Luckily that banana peel stopped you. He could’ve sworn he heard that goofy slipping sound effect in the distance. He takes the opportunity to run away but when he’s alone he’s laughing uncontrollably. He really wished he caught that on video. And then he realizes he has access to the security cameras. He’s devious.

Malleus was minding his own business. The hallway was completely empty and there was one thing that stood out to him. The random banana peel on the floor. What a peculiar thing… He saw you running up to him. He really could’ve warned you but that wasn’t the first thing on his mind. He was just happy to see you. Quickly the banana peel wiped that smile off of your face when you hit the floor. Needless to say he obliterated that banana for hurting you.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #malleus draconia #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #leona kingscholar #vil schoenheit #kalim al asim #idia shroud #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #kalim al asim x reader #idia shroud x reader #twst housewardens

[comradekatara]

apparently suki got sexy lamped (i didn’t watch the show but that’s what i heard) and that is one of the worst things that could ever happen to me. suki is snarky and passionate and excitable and bad at making jokes and she is way too cool for sokka but that’s why they work.

yeah what they did to every single girl in that thing is unconscionable but what they did to suki and yue especially is crazy because we’re meant to believe that they’re both #StrongWomen but also going crazy stupid for white devil sokka even though he has nothing to offer either of them, and is not attractive, charismatic, or intelligent. suki doesn’t like sokka because he’s a hot guy with a six pack (couldn’t even type that without snorting. sorry) she likes him because he displays humility, open-mindedness, intelligence, humor, and bravery. none of which he actually displays in natla, for the record (although i guess you could call him telling suki that “they should put a bell on her” humor???? if you’re stupid??????), certainly not humility or a willingness to expand his worldview. he doesn’t apologize for doubting her skill, he doesn’t admit he was wrong, he doesn’t let her feminize him (WHO is this cis white boy!!!), and he doesn’t change his mind on anything.

in fact, SHE is the one who thanks HIM for “showing her the world,” which is obviously crazy if you spend even a second thinking about it. SUKI is the one who firsts presents sokka with a reason to expand his worldview. SUKI is the one who disrupts SOKKA’s entrenched paradigms. the whole point is that sokka knows NOTHING of the world and SUKI is the first person who teaches him something. suki is the first person to show him that being a warrior is not a biologically determined fact, but rather a state of mind. suki is the first person to actually train him formally. suki is the first person who helps sokka to realize that people beyond his immediate family can value him outside of his role as protector/martyr. that she can like him because he’s open-minded and makes her laugh (and certainly not because she’s entranced by his shiny muscles). suki is, in fact, the one who shows sokka the world. yes, they’re both isolated and sheltered when the show begins, and suki’s decision to leave kyoshi island is in large part influenced by meeting sokka, and she does kind of go crazy stupid over him and is the first one to initiate their romance, but she’s still the one imparting a valuable lesson onto sokka, not the other way around.

suki works so well with sokka, like natla very unsubtly points out, because they do have a lot in common as kids who are also the designated leaders and warriors of their respective villages. they understand each other on this implicit level, and they’re both very smart and share a (quite dark) sense of humor, so they’re able to banter and spar and hang out as equals. but they’re also different enough to balance each other out. sokka plans while suki reacts. sokka is cerebral whereas suki is kinetic. sokka is tightly wound whereas suki helps him relax. suki is confident in her own skin whereas sokka is deeply insecure and neurotic. she helps him loosen up and get out of his own head, and in turn he supports her and admires her unconditionally. sokka demonstrates to suki that he would do anything to help her, and suki demonstrates to sokka that he can accept her help and doesn’t need to shoulder every single burden alone out of some perverse guilt/martyr complex. they protect each other, have each others backs, make jokes together, hype each other up. they’re each other’s right hand arm man silly rabbit.

the reason suki is able to forgive sokka for his sexist comments is because he immediately apologizes when she proves him wrong. he humbles himself and demonstrates that he knows he has a lot to learn from her. he then also, after like, a couple hours at most of receiving any kind of formal hand to hand training for the first time in his life, manages to beat her. the thing about suki is that she’s also very proud. even prouder than sokka, if you consider that her confidence is 100% real and not a feigned defense mechanism like his is. and so the fact that she loses to him, even just in this one moment, does force her to reevaluate him. like, he’s obviously full of shit when he boasts of his skills (he has no formal training to speak of), we all know that, but he is nonetheless incredibly skilled. and suki has to acknowledge that, because i don’t think anyone who has been learning the form she’s spent her entire life mastering for less than a day has ever gotten the better of her like that before. and it’s certainly not because he’s a boy, or biologically superior; it’s because he’s smart enough to know how to adapt. and that intelligence is demonstrated not only in his skill, but also his willingness to completely upend everything he’s been taught within the span of a few hours.

this episode is in fact crucial for sokka, not because he learns how to fight or because he “stops being sexist” (imo, he’s still sexist, but that’s for another post), but because it demonstrates to the audience how sokka’s mind works, and how fucking impressive he is. i know that it may seem like this episode is just an after school special teaching young boys to be nicer to their sisters (and it is very much that), but it’s also illustrative of how sokka is able to process and synthesize new information and immediately change his mind. i’ve called sokka the personification of the scientific method before, and what i mean by that is that he is constantly absorbing new empirical data into his worldview and updating it accordingly. contrast this mindset with zuko’s, or even katara’s. how many times do they have to have the same lesson drilled into their heads over and over and over again before they actually properly internalize it? i’m not saying that zuko and katara are bad or stupid, to be clear, they’re actually incredibly realistic. sokka is the one who is unrealistically open-minded and intelligent. toph is really the only other character in the gaang who matches his sheer level of brilliance, creativity, and ingenuity.

so the reason this episode is valuable for establishing who sokka is, is just. completely negated by the way he’s portrayed in natla, as just some “hot” guy to ogle over. he doesn’t display his scientific mind, he doesn’t expand his worldview, he doesn’t complicate his own gender identity by wearing traditionally feminine garb, he doesn’t give suki or us, the audience, any reason to actually like him. and when he gets to omashu and starts expressing to the mechanist his aptitude for engineering, it feels completely hollow and unearned because at no point prior has he demonstrated that this mind works in a scientific way. we’re just expected to believe that he’s an engineering prodigy despite being given no prior evidence that even thinks logically.

in fact, everything that is unique and subtle about sokka is completely stripped away by this white devil. he isn’t “the only man” left in the village so he seems absolutely stupid insisting that he shoulders a unique burden. he constantly communicates his deepest emotions so he ends up sounding more like zuko or katara than sokka. he isnt funny, although i think he tries to be but simply lacks any charm. he isnt humble, he isnt depressed, he isnt intelligent, he isnt stupidly loyal and self-sacrificing. he acts more like a jock who magically knows engineering than a nerd who kills people. and suki seems like an absolute fool for being so obsessed with this absolutely worthless white boy, instead of the wonderful, confident girl who knows exactly what she wants and gets it.

meanwhile, yue, on the other hand, IS a girlboss who knows exactly what she wants, and it’s CRAZY. they completely reduce everything that makes her character important by turning her into a liberated woman (despite the nwt still being sexist???) who breaks off her own arranged marriage because she just wasn’t feeling it (even though THIS version of hahn is gorgeous and kind and respectful, so like…… huh??) and is a badass waterbender who talks back to her father. she wears euphoria makeup and a party city wig as she tells us (like she may as well be talking into the camera) that sokka is the hottest guy she’s ever seen (which would make more sense if the guy who played sokka played hahn and VICE VERSA, but i digress) and she loves him for…. reasons??? certainly not because he represents a figure beyond her limited paradigm, and certainly not because he’s charming or kind or makes her laugh or treats her like a person. and certainly not because they both feel restricted by their respective patriarchal duties to their fathers and to their people, because yue doesn’t feel restricted at all, and the extent of sokka’s daddy issues are simply “hakoda was mean to him because he sucks at ice dodging” (which is also crazy, for many reasons). they just feel like two people who were forced together because the narrative demanded it, and not because they have any sort of meaningful thematic connection that deepens both their stories. it’s horrendous.

ultimately, the ways in which these characters (and every character) are reduced are reflective of some incredibly dire patterns in these soulless, corporately produced objects of commerce that barely pass as art. “sokka’s sexism is too problematic so instead we’re going to change every single element of the story so that no one has any sort of objectionable flaws — or depth.” i know i talk a lot about sokka here, but they also massacre aang, and (especially!) katara, and even zuko (even though the guy playing zuko was definitely giving it his all). and azula and iroh and everyone else (except for ken leung and danny pudi who are innocent). they don’t want to create anything nuanced or intricate, but they want to make it marketable, so they advertise it as “appealing to a game of thrones audience.” i’ve always hated game of thrones, but it’s still leagues better than this. in fact, i think it might even be better for women than this. i don’t think it’s that hard to understand a Y-7 nickelodeon cartoon (although the takes ive seen on here do make me wonder…) and yet somehow the writers of this monstrosity managed to get every single facet wrong. distressingly wrong. every time i think about it i get mad all over again. smh

#god. i hate it here #asks #sapphikatara #natla #sokka #suki #yue #analysis #sokkaxsuki #sokkaxyue #also they made suki a nepobaby when like the whole point is that she EARNED her leadership as opposed to sokka #UGH. WHATEVER. #this is already uhhhh. nine paragraphs long #ok bye

[princessbrunette]

how do you think would rafe react when crybaby!reader gets upset when he unintentionally hurts her feelings and she’s serious upset and not adorable upset? yk what i mean? like suddenly he’s realizing she’s not being dramatic but really hurt🎀

୧ ‧₊˚🧸ྀི ৎ୭

i feel as though season one rafe would do this the most often. season 2 rafe is very intentional with his words because he’s learnt to be more careful not to get himself in trouble, esp towards the end of season 2 when he’s spending a lot of time with limbrey and her brother and you can see him acting a lot more grownup. season 3 rafe is actually fairly gentle, especially around women — he’s figured out how to conduct himself and is very set on changing his ways which is why he’s very respectful towards sofia and also very mindful of kiaras space when they were trapped at singhs together — if she flinched when he’d come too close he’d immediately stop approaching or he’d slow his movements and put his hands up to show it was okay. season one rafe however, doesn’t give a fuck how anyone feels really.

most importantly, he doesn’t know how to have a girlfriend yet. i was speaking about this last night in dms with indy — and it seems very clear that he doesn’t get how to handle you yet. he doesn’t seem like he’d understand that he needs to take you on dates still once you’re in a relationship or ask you to be his valentine etc, not seeing the point of it. so i can definitely see him messing up and hurting your feelings really bad.

he’s very much a boy, and likes to do boy shit with his friends. stand around and drink beer and talk and watch the game. he doesn’t mind you being there, but if he’s wrapped up in conversation with his friends he kinda doesn’t care so much if you’re there because he’s happy doing his thing. say you’re at the country club and this is happening, your boyfriend laughing and being obnoxious with his pals. you’d approach and he’d give you a little side hug, pulling you to his side but he’d continue talking to his friends and not so much you.

“what are you guys doing?” you ask quietly to just him and he glances your way.

“uh, just hanging out? you didn’t find any of your little friends to talk to?” his hand drops to your lower back and you blink up at him obviously.

“yeah they’re here just… wanted to be with you?” you furrow your eyebrows and he briefly laughs at something kelce said, only offering you half of his attention before looking at you again.

“well we’re just doing guy stuff, a’ight? go hang with them. don’t need to hover around me, i’ll just come get you when we’re leavin’.” its an offhand comment, but your face immediately falls. ‘hovering around him’? when the two of you were alone he often demanded all of your attention, but now with his friends here it was like he didn’t care at all. to add salt to the burn, he gives your ass a little pat and let’s go of you. “go on.” he hurries you along.

you feel that hot feeling in your chest and you can feel yourself getting upset. “i think im going to go home.” you’re polite as you can be but your voice shakes and it catches his attention, following you when you take a few steps, still half smiling.

“wh— are you serious? why?”

you avoid his eye like you don’t even know him, lifting a shoulder and brushing him off. “just— just want to.” he watches you wipe your tears away as you leave the club, and he sighs in confusion, taking a sip of his beer.

topper was actually the one to teach him about how to handle an emotional girlfriend. he sighed out a “i don’t understand this girl, man.” when you were out of sight and after some convincing— rafe learned the valuable lesson of grovelling. he shows up at your door an hour later, pink in the face from being in the sun and a little warm and sweaty.

“uh, can i come in?”

he lets you cry into his chest as he squints at the wall in confusion trying to understand you. he did love you, believe it or not — he just didn’t have a way with words.

“look okay, you know when i say shit i don’t mean it, alright? i’m a guy it’s — it’s just what we do. i didn’t mean for you to take it that way.” he cups your face, a strand of his pushed back hair fallen onto his forehead.

“you hurt my feelings.” you mewl, and his heart does infact melt a little, blinking rapidly as he sighs in frustration with himself.

“whats gonna make this better? huh? you— you wanna punch me or something?” he asks desperately which actually gets a giggle from you. “well what then?”

“just want you to like me.” you sigh sadly and he stares at you dumbly.

“i do. so now what?”

“prove it.” you huff and he shakes his head a little, dumbfounded.

“prove i— okay.” he grabs your face, pulling you in for a kiss.

୧ ‧₊˚🧸ྀི ৎ୭

#tracymbcm #rafe cameron prompt

[beansmack2021]

She's Yours Now

Teen!Reader x Platonic!Hazbin Hotel Characaters

Summary: Someone decides who gets to go to Heaven and who is sent to Hell. But, who would send a sixteen year old to Hell? Especially one who seems so... quiet.

TW: Mentions of abuse, mentions of death in childbirth, justified murder, blood, violence

“You little bitch! You ruined my fucking life, and now you want my money? My food? Get a fucking job, you ungrateful piece of shit, and buy it yourself!”

“Please, I'm hungry. I just wanted a sandwich. I won't even use the mayonnaise.” Y/N begged and pleaded, but she knew she wouldn't get anywhere with her father.

He was drunk more often than not, and he was totally unreasonable when he'd gotten a few beers in his system.

Y/N decided she'd just go to the kitchen later, when he was asleep, and sneak a sandwich or some crackers. She'd also toss his cigarettes in the toilet bowl. He'd probably know it was her, but it'd be funny to watch him fish around in the toilet water for the pack. It'd be worth the yelling.

She'd started to smirk a bit, still enjoying the idea of making him look like an idiot, when she was suddenly struck with intense, sharp pain. She raised her hand to her temple, gasping as she took in the crimson that stained her fingers. Her ear was ringing, and she saw the amber colored glass that littered the carpet.

He'd hit her before, sure, but he'd never smashed a bottle over her head before. She didn't have much time to try and make an escape to her room before he grabbed her by the collar and yanked her up. He wasn't much taller than her, so her feet barely left the floor, but that didn't stop her panicked frenzy.

She punched him, clawed at his arms, and tried to bite him. He spit in her face and dropped her on the floor like a sack of potatoes. She gasped as she landed. She'd tried to catch herself and instead felt a bone in her wrist crack. The broken glass in the carpet dug into her palms and legs. Blood started to seep through her jeans and into the rug. She knew better than to scream. It'd only get her into worse trouble.

Her father reached across the table, grabbed another empty bottle from the table, and launched it at Y/N. She closed her eyes, trying to use her arms to shield herself. The glass smashed painfully against her bare skin. She cried out and immediately regretted it. Her cries prompted him to start getting more physical. He pulled her hair so that she was forced to look up at him as he kicked her ribs. Bam, bam, bam! The room was spinning. She heard one sickening crack and then another. She didn't know what to do. She was scared. Every part of her wanted to scream. She was sure her neighbors would hear her. She couldn't force it out of her throat, though. He knelt down next to her, yanking her chin up toward him, and grumbled in her face. “What did we learn?” He growled. He'd say that any time he thought she'd learned a “valuable lesson”. She felt around the carpet, wincing whenever another microshard of glass dug its way into her palm. She finally felt the neck of the bottle and grabbed it. “That you're a fucking asshole.” She stabbed him in his thick neck, and he clutched his throat as he bled out. He fell over, nearly collapsing on top of her, and gasped his final breath a few minutes later. Y/N was dying. She could feel it. She'd call for someone, but there'd be no point. She'd lost a lot of blood from the gash across her head, and her broken ribs had probably punctured her lungs. At least she'd gone out with a fight. She prayed that she wouldn't end up in the same place that he did. She closed her eyes, whispered an apology to her mother, who'd died giving birth to her, and asked whoever would listen that she'd see her mom on the other side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was really, really quiet. Normally, this would be absolutely wonderful. Normal doesn't exist in Hell. Quiet meant something was going to happen. Charlie didn't like to admit it, but sometimes, even she knew it wasn't going to be a “happy day in Hell”. She tried to relax as Vaggie massaged her scalp, but as soon as she'd finally calmed down enough to actually enjoy her girlfriend's hands in her hair, her phone started ringing. She picked it up, took a glance at the caller ID, and smiled to herself. She and her father had finally started to reconnect, so check-ins over the phone had become more and more frequent. Maybe that's what she'd been in anticipation of. She'd finally be able to relax. She heaved a sigh of relief and answered Lucifer's call. “Hey, Da-” “Charlie. We've got an emergency.” He cut her off, and she was instantly thrown off by how serious he sounded. “What's wrong? Is it Heaven? Did they make the extermination date even sooner?” Charlie started to panic, her blood running cold at the idea that she had even less time than she believed to rally the troops to defend her kingdom.

“No, Char. It's nothing like that. It's serious, though. There's a new arrival.” She was confused, now. New people arrive in Hell every day. If her father felt he needed to call her and let her know personally, there was a chance that the sinner could pose a serious threat. “She's young, Charlie. Really young. She…” He faltered. He sounded emotional. “She needs you. She needs the hotel. She doesn't belong here. Please, take care of her.”

Charlie was quiet. Her father wanted her to take in a sinner, but it sounded like he didn't feel she was a sinner at all. He was concerned, that much she could tell. She just didn't know what the girl could've done to end up in Hell of all places if she was so young and innocent. She decided, with finality, that everyone needed a safe space. “Alright, Dad. Where can we find her?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin charlie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin x reader #hazbin fanfic