#pretty sure it's once in a year kind of miracle

[lauraneedstochill]

Can't help falling in love

summary: 5 times Aemond was in love with you + 1 time he finally confessed his feelings

warnings: friends to lovers (at the age of 9, 10, 15, 17, 19), a pinch of angst (Aemond healing after losing his eye), but overall so fluffy and sweet you may want to skip dessert

words: ~ 5500 (I got reeeally carried away with that love confession)

1.

Aemond is weeks away from his tenth birthday and he feels as miserable as ever. That feeling is an iron weight upon his heart, his mood irritated and face features grim more often than not. He is still without a dragon — and it’s the only thing he can think of, day and night, steadfast and stubborn in his obsession that most of his family finds to be blown out of proportion. It might have stang him less if only it wasn’t for the constant teasing and pitiful jokes that added to his distress and the never-ending heartache. He learns to keep a straight face and act as if he doesn’t really care, but deep down he does, way more than he’ll ever admit.

His training sessions are a way to channel his anger, and he lashes out at a straw man, again and again, clinging to the thought that, at least in these moments, he is not entirely powerless. He keeps his focus on the target, attentive to Ser Criston’s advice — “Soften your knees”, “Keep your feet light, your hands heavy”, and for a couple of hours he forgets about his misery.

It’s when the training comes to an end, the dreaded realization sinks in again, and Aemond is lost in his thoughts, mindlessly twirling the wooden sword in one hand, his gaze wandering around the yard.

And then his eyes fall on a bright green spot — and all of a sudden, he sees you. A girl of his age, the hem of your green dress a bit dusty, boots covered in dirt, a few strands of hair fallen loose, a coy smile on your face. You meet his gaze and wave at him excitedly.

Aemond looks dumbfounded. A girl in the training yard. Waving at him. He blinks once, twice — and in the next moment, you're standing merely a few steps away, glancing curiously at his sword.

"It looks so hefty! Is it heavy? What is it made of?" a string of questions, your voice sweet and joyful.

There’s a brief pause and maybe you mistake his stiffness for arrogance as you are quick to add:

“Oh, my manners!” gasping but showing no actual regret. “Forgive me,” you curtsy, your smile growing even wider. A timid smile appears on his face in return and he finally comes to his senses.

“It’s made out of red oak. It’s not very heavy, you get used to it,” Aemond raises the sword, letting you take a closer look. Within another blink of an eye he finds himself talking to you, your questions endless and maybe a bit naive but he genuinely enjoys it.

That’s until you both hear a loud cry:

“Lady Y/N!” your nanny comes running in, out of breath and scowling. “I told you not to wander around...,” she chokes on her words at the sight of the young prince. She curtsies, too, but it isn’t nearly as cute as when you do it.

She sprints decisively in your direction:

“It wasn’t very polite of you to interrupt the prince’s training, you little menace!”

And then Aemond, to his own surprise, moves to stand in her way.

”Y/N didn’t interrupt a thing,“ he disagrees, lips thinned into a tight line.

The nanny stops and looks at Aemond dubiously, switching her gaze from him to you.

Ser Criston is the one to resolve the conflict — he comes from behind, with a polite smile plastered on his face.

”Young lady can watch from the balcony. The guests are very much welcomed,“ he calls for the maid to escort you and your nanny up there. While you’re away, he looks at Aemond with a grin:

”Already wooing the ladies, my prince? Let’s hope you are as good with your sword as she thinks you are.“

He does make Aemond work for it but the prince fights back, winning one bout after the other. He keeps glancing at you and you wave at him every single time.

Aemond is too young to know what love is, too shy and guarded to even entertain the thought of it. But when you look at him, with your childish grin and your eyes bright with mirth, he doesn't feel lonely anymore.

2.

It's been two weeks since Aemond lost his eye and he hasn't left the bed once. The pain is still blinding, burning and constantly making his only eye water. But what hurts even more is the humiliating disability. The triumph of claiming Vhagar died down, and now the prince was faced with the harsh reality he needed to adjust to and the process wasn't an easy one. The fever has only recently gone down, leaving his body weak and freezing from the lack of movement, but he couldn't bare the thought of stepping out of the room.

His mother wouldn't leave his side and even Aegon often came to visit, clearly blaming himself for not being there for his little brother. Yet their presence barely brought Aemond any comfort and most of the time he would pretend to be asleep to avoid any conversations. He knew they only meant well and he was being cruel but he couldn't help it as his pride was shattered and he gave in to sadness.

That is until one night he wakes up to a weird sound. He's only half-awake when he hears a vigorous tapping that clearly comes from the outside. Except it's not from the other side of the door — but rather outside his window.

He's startled by this guess and suspiciously walks closer. It takes him a few seconds to focus his gaze and discern a human's silhouette — and then another few to realize that it's you standing on the window sill. He feels like his heart will jump out of his chest as he rushes to open the window.

You climb through and clumsily drop to the floor. But before he can get worried, you are on your feet again, eyeing him with concern.

“Oh, Aemond,” your gaze and voice are both so soft, it makes his lower lip quiver. You carefully approach him and put your hand on his shoulder, gently sliding it on his back in a soothing motion and then cuddling him. He welcomes your company with a sigh of relief. You smell of oranges and you give the best hugs.

"They told me no one was allowed into your chambers," your hushed whisper burns his ear. "The silliest thing I've ever heard!" you pull away from him, still lightly panting, cheeks flushed and hair messy. "I knew I had to find a way to come see you."

You examine his face, frowning at the scar that's still healing.

"Does it hurt?"

He only nods, afraid that if he opens his mouth, he won't be able to hold back a sob. You move closer, resuming the gentle motion of rubbing his back.

Ever since that day in the training yard, you kept in touch, regularly sending each other letters, chatting about everything and nothing, sharing your little secrets and observations. You recently mentioned that your parents allowed you to come see him again, but with the tragic change of events, Aemond completely forgot about the preplanned visit. 

"I will take his eye," you say out of the blue, caressing the unharmed side of his face, your voice laced with anger. Aemond thinks he might've heard it wrong.

"...Whose eye?"

"Luke’s! I shall take his eye, as payment for yours," you tell him with zero hesitation. For a girl of your age, you’re way too eager to plan such a thing, yet he somehow has no doubts that you can actually do it.

Aemond shakes his head:

"You shouldn't," his voice quiet but firm. "The King was very adamant about that, no payment is needed."

"Well, maybe he is too old to think straight," you retort. "You are his son and you lost an eye! Justice must prevail," you tilt your head at him, clearly thinking that you’re in the right.

And he knows that you are but he also knows no justice will be served. It’s the last straw for Aemond — he looks away in shame as tears, hot and angry, start falling down his cheek. You waste no time hugging him again, letting him cry on your shoulder, and the two of you stay like that for what feels like an hour.

And then, in the comfortable silence of your embrace, he hears you asking, very seriously:

"Are you sure I can't take his eye?"

At that moment, he can't stop himself from letting out a laugh — a weak one and barely audible, but still, he laughs, for the first time in two weeks, and you are the sole reason for it. 

Your cheek is pressed to his, your fingers running through his hair, and Aemond realizes he can't lose you.

He begrudgingly persuades you that taking Luke's eye isn't worth the trouble.

3.

By the age of fifteen Aemond becomes quite accustomed to the eyepatch and it gives him a boost of confidence. Losing an eye only made him train harder and his persistence pays off when he’s the one to win, time after time, no matter who his opponent is. His hair grows longer, now silky smooth and with no sign of his boyish curled ends, his face features sharpen. He learns to walk with his head high and hands clasped behind his back, mastering the intimidating look that makes most people want to stay away from the one-eyed prince. 

His tricks could’ve never worked on you, though.

You come to visit him a few times a year, and he eagerly awaits your arrival. All the days in between, you keep talking through letters, them getting longer as you get closer. He keeps those letters locked in a hidden compartment of his table. And sometimes, for no specific reason — or maybe for the reason he can’t yet formulate — he is drawn to reach for them, which always ends with him rereading the letters for hours. Some of them he knows by heart and yet it never stops him from having the pleasure of seeing your handwritten stories and little jokes that were only meant for him.

Today is no exception and Aemond is so enthralled by reading, he almost misses the knock on the door. The sound brings him to reality but he is in no hurry to react. The knocking comes again, and the prince groans, annoyed at the maid's persistence. He carefully puts the letters back and goes to the door, armed with his cold gaze.

And then he opens it — and it's you standing in front of him. 

Aemond barely has time to register what's going on when you launch yourself at him, your arms immediately enveloping him in a tight hug, your laugh ringing in the air. He hugs you back and, while you can't see it, he's grinning from ear to ear.

“I swear you’re getting taller every time we meet!” you look up at him, beaming, and he lets you in. “I soon will need a ladder just to hug you properly".

"I’ll be sure to let my body know of your disapproval," he sneers and you stick out your tongue.

"While you are at it, shall you also work on your friendly face? I overheard the maids being frightened to go into your chambers," you try giving him a scolding look but end up giggling at his reddened cheeks.

"I am friendly enough!"

“Yes, nobody glowers quite like you,” you snicker and flop right on the floor, the move always making him smile. Aemond tried persuading you to sit on any other surface that’s actually meant for sitting but you insisted that his fluffy rug works just as well, so he eventually gave up, deciding to join you. He never complained since.

Before he knows it, he’s immersed in the conversation while you enthusiastically share the recent news and everything that’s happened to you on the road. Only about half an hour in, he notes a small bag you're clasping in your hands.

“You come bearing gifts?”

“Oh, I almost forgot I had it,” you laugh, abashed. “I decided I should bring you something to replace this crumpled-looking thing".

It takes Aemond a minute to realize that you're talking about his eyepatch. But he has no time to protest as you silence him with a gesture of your hand:

“I took it upon myself to count for how long you’ve been wearing this one already,” your tone gets serious. “I must say, that number is disturbing.”

There's a moment of silence and then he clears his throat, his voice unsure:

“Very kind of you to think of that, I shall replace it later on.”

He reaches his hand to take the bag but you quickly cover it with yours, fingers brushing over his, and he freezes.

“Are you still not convinced that I can take a look at it?” you try to make eye contact but he averts your gaze.

“Aemond, I was with you and I think I’ve seen enough back then — none of it scared me.”

“It is not a sight for the faint of heart,'” the prince mumbles, his bravado faltering.

“Well, I don’t remember fainting the first time. You should have more faith in me,” you try to reason, holding his hand.

Aemond ponders for another minute — or maybe ten, he isn't sure, and you patiently wait, not wanting to press him any further. Then he finally makes a decision and, after taking a long, sad sigh, he removes the eyepatch and looks at you, the sight of him is the very definition of insecurity.

You stay silent for about five seconds before concluding:

“Oh, it healed so nicely!” with no hint of uncertainty in your voice. Your smile reassures him a little as you peer at the sapphire, looking very pleased.

"The gem compliments your eye very well," you give him your verdict, taking the new eyepatch out.

"We might have a different understanding of what a compliment is."

"This is me trying to say that I really like the way it looks," you chide him lightly. "And I consider myself to be quite understanding, thank you very much. Will you stop pouting and let me put it on?"

At this point he surrenders, giving you permission, and you move closer, giggling with excitement. You gently fix his hair, making sure it’s all combed back, and then lean to put the eyepatch on. You have a habit of biting your lower lip when you're too concentrated on something, and Aemond can't help but gaze at that part of your face while your teeth graze over the pillowy surface. 

He’s never let anyone this close — and not just in the sense of physical proximity. The moment is very intimate, and the softness of your movements tugs at his heart. He is suddenly very aware of the very short distance separating you two, and he holds his breath. You are oblivious to his stare and soon lean back, satisfied with the result and glaring at him with something akin to fondness.

He wishes he could paint a picture of you right at this moment, so tender and caring and sitting by his side.

He also wishes he could kiss you — and that thought scares him to death. And yet, once it appears, it never goes away.

4.

Aemond is seventeen and his life has been pure torture since you stopped visiting him. He hasn't seen you in over half a year (seven months and eleven days, not that anyone's counting). It's not your fault as your father has unexpectedly fallen ill and you couldn't leave his side. The prince exhausted the maester with questions, asking for advice to write back to you, worried sick that your separation would be stretched for way longer than he could handle.

Luckily, the Gods took pity on him, and he was glad to learn that your father got better, and you will come to the King's Landing soon. Your visit coincided with Aegon's birthday, but Aemond didn't care about the feast, his mind only occupied with the thought of seeing you. He was both nervous and excited to the point of not even hiding it, which led to Aegon teasing him relentlessly. Helaena, on the other hand, wholeheartedly supported Aemond's sympathy for you.

“She will be delighted to see you, too, I am sure of it,” his sister tells him the day before the event.

“But the reason for it might be of a different nature,” Aemond remarks, and Helaena gives him a compassionate look.

“You will never know her true feelings unless you ask,” she encourages. “The two of you are so close, I consider Y/N part of the family.”

Aemond knows that he’s of age and his mother hinted that, despite him showing no interest in courting, some ladies still found him attractive. He dismisses the idea but then finds himself thinking of it from time to time. When the realization forms in his head, it’s nerve-wracking but oh so compelling — he thinks he would’ve really wanted to marry you. He just doesn’t know how to tell you about it.

The day of your arrival comes, and Aemond wakes up at dawn in anticipation, determined to confess his feelings. He tries to come up with a speech, but it feels wrong and sounds weird, and he decides it will be better to improvise. He all but runs to the courtyard to be the first one to greet you. However, when you step out of the carriage, smoothing your dress, and your eyes meet, Aemond stops dead in his tracks and the world around him stands still.

His confidence might’ve blossomed — but not nearly as much as your beauty did. Somehow in those recent months, you’ve matured into a woman that takes his breath away.

It’s not a drastic change, it's all in the details: the contours of your face are more defined, the cheekbones prominent, your hair knotted up high in a perfect style and even your pace is much slower and gracious. You walk towards one another, both suddenly cautious. But when you are a couple of meters apart, a well-known smile appears on your face and you hold your arms out to him and he finally hugs you again, after all this time. Aemond relaxes, inhaling the familiar scent of fruits that you undoubtedly munched on your way here.

“You look exactly as I remembered you,” you say as you slip from his embrace.

“And you are a sight to behold,” he breathes out, taking you in, and your cheeks heat up at the compliment. You’ve never been shy with him before, so this is also new. He wonders what might’ve caused this change.

As the two of you walk around the castle, it feels a bit awkward at first, and you keep glancing at him with emotion he can’t read. But Aemond is too happy to see you to give it much thought, and within an hour you ease into the conversation, too. By the time the evening comes, the tension disappears, and you are laughing at his sarcastic remarks again, and he savors every second of it.

The feast in honor of Aegon is lush and crowded, but you stay by Aemond’s side, enjoying each other’s company, and he only has eye for you. When the music gets too loud, you sneak out and soon find yourselves in his chambers, just like in the good old days. Aemond is in the middle of telling you about Aegon’s recent foray to the Flea Bottom, when you say:

“It’s just the two of us,” your fingers sink into the fluffy rug. “You don’t have to wear it with me. You know it, right?”

He wears the eyepatch with everyone, only taking it off before going to sleep. Moreover, he actually cherishes it because it’s a gift from you. Aemond hesitates:

“I thought you quite liked it.”

“I only gave it to you because yours started to look like it was pulled off a dead man’s body!” you laugh.

Before he can think of an answer, you lean closer — your shoulder brushing his, your hand touching his face, the same gentle warmth he remembers so well, — and remove the eyepatch yourself. The sight doesn’t bother you in the slightest as you confess:

“I accept you the way you are, Aemond,” and then, a moment away from him opening his mouth and saying the thing that’s been on the tip of his tongue for the duration of the day, you add: “That’s what friends are for — and you are my best friend.”

And just like that, with this word alone, his plan goes out the window.

A friend. Aemond can’t even be upset at the reveal, because, honestly, being your friend feels like a blessing in itself and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. How could he be so selfish and foolish to even think about risking it all, risk losing you?

So he keeps his feelings to himself, locking them away deep in his heart, and doesn't argue with you.

Maybe he should have.

5.

By the age of nineteen Aemond reaches the conclusion that he wants to take the risk. Otherwise, he thinks he might actually die as his heart can not hold all his feelings anymore. In two years' time, there isn’t a single thing about you that he hasn’t come to love, and keeping it a secret becomes harder with each day.

Aemond is ridden with doubts to the point where he can't hide it any longer and he decides to seek advice — and the prince can't think of a better person to talk to than his mother. Unbeknownst to him, Alicent was the first one to notice. Years ago, when you were kids, she quickly sensed the effect you had on her son, and it brought her joy as she watched the two of you get closer with time.

So when Aemond bursts into her room, anxiety radiating off of him as he starts jabbering away, his pacing erratic and voice trembling, it takes her about a minute to realize what's going on.

“My dear, I think you must talk to Y/N,” she approaches him, an understanding look on her face.

Aemond cuts his speech short, eyeing her with wonder:

“You don't seem surprised.”

“Your affection for her is as bright as a fire blazing,” Alicent chuckles. “I believe Y/N is the only one who doesn’t see it.”

“Should I tell her...?” he doesn’t dare say it out loud, not yet.

Alicent briefly takes his hands in hers, squeezing them.

“You should tell her the truth.”

Her encouragement gives him a dash of hope, lifting a weight off his chest. Aemond knows in an instant that the letter won’t cut it, and you must have the conversation face-to-face. Fortunately, your next visit is in a month, so his suffering won’t last for much longer.

Aemond almost reaches the door but then sharply turns to his mother again, his cheeks flushed:

“Will you give me your approval?” and this time, he looks straight at her as he wants to see her genuine reaction.

Alicent smiles, quick to reassure him:

“Yes, Aemond. Your betrothal would only make me happy.”

The prince feels elated, almost euphoric, as he finally goes to meet you and runs the remaining distance from his chambers to the yard. But when he sees you, the smile disappears from his face because he notices that something is wrong.

You look visibly upset, your eyes watering and fingers fumbling with the dress, even though you try to force a smile in return. The hug you give him is weak and you keep looking at your feet.

“What is the matter?” he’s never seen you this sad, but you brush him off.

“It’s just a headache, no need to worry.”

Yet that’s exactly what he does, offering to call for the maester, or to prepare you a warm bath, or bring you some tea...

“A cup of water would be nice, thank you,” he leaves you in the hallway to go and get it himself, the task only takes a couple of minutes. When he returns, you stand with your back to him, your shoulders are shaking — and he hears quiet, muffled sobs. If it wasn’t for the nearby table, he would’ve thrown the cup away, his focus on you alone. As he rushes to envelop you in a hug, you don’t fight it, instead nestling your face against his chest, not hiding your tears anymore.

Aemond gives you some time before asking again:

“This doesn’t look like just a headache. What is the cause of your anguish?” now he’s the one running his fingers up and down your back.

You let out a sound that’s a mix between a groan and a whine.

“My father says I am to be betrothed soon. He says I am of age already and... and he wants me to meet some of my cousins,” you sniffle. “I told him I have no wish to get married but he refuses to listen,” you bite your lip, not wanting to cry again.

Surely, that’s not how Aemond wanted to ask you. But he decides to take his chance.

“Mayhaps there is another way out that could make you feel better.”

“Please don’t tell me Vhagar will burn them down,” you jest but the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. Aemond thinks your idea isn’t that bad — but he has to try his first.

“If he insists you should marry but doesn’t have a particular candidate, maybe you can pick one yourself?”

“I’ve met all my cousins — and half of them are imbeciles, the others are too old to survive a wedding,” you scoff.

“Then pick someone you are not related to,” Aemond suggests.

“Do you have a particular candidate in mind?” when you ask with a tinge of annoyance, you don’t think he will answer. And then you look at him — and see him grinning before he says:

“Me”.

You glare at Aemond with eyes wide and mouth agape, the expression frozen on your face for a good minute. 

“Are you laughing at me?” you manage to say.

“I wouldn’t dare,” his nerves are as tight as a wound-up string.

In the blink of a moment, your face lights up. You're looking at him indecisively, searching for words, agitated. But Aemond mistakes your confusion for rejection.

“At the very least you will marry someone you know,” he tries to reason — but it backfires, wiping the joyfulness off your face. Taken aback, you inquire:

“You pity me?”

He doesn’t grasp the poor choice of his words yet.

 “You pity me and that’s why you want to marry me?” you give him a look of disbelief, your eyes glossy, and he can't get his head around what just happened.

“Oh, it was so silly of me to think that...,” you choke back a sob, putting your hand over your mouth.

Never in his life he thought he would be the reason for you looking so heartbroken. Aemond covers your hand with his palm — and you let him, as he tries to gather his courage.

“Y/N, I only meant to say that I —”

And then you recoil, snapping your hand back.

“Aemond, don’t,” you take a step back from him, then another one. “You have said enough. Please, let me be,” you turn away and leave the hall in a hurry before he can utter another word.

... 1.

He finds you at your usual spot, under the blossoming cherry tree. You’ve always said you liked the color of it, little white flowers reminding you of early spring, your favorite time of the year. You don’t know that Aemond insisted on planting that tree specifically for you. Just so he can sit nearby and, as you were basking in the sunlight with your eyes closed, he would get a chance to look at you with all his unconditional love and have those moments engraved in his memory.

Come to think of it, he had so many memories of you — and every single one of them was bliss, and he can recall them so easily like it was yesterday.

And so he does.

“When we first met, you wore a green dress,” his voice startles you, but you don’t turn to face him, sniffling with your arms folded. “It was the color of forest trees. Black lace around the hem of it, the matching hair ribbon that you kept losing,“ he keeps his distance, his hands shaking.

"Yes, I remember it pretty well," you sigh, avoiding his gaze, baffled by his sudden outburst.

"The second time was when you climbed through my window, almost gave me a heart attack," there’s a hint of a smile in his voice that you catch even without looking. "Blue dress, you tore a huge piece of it and couldn’t care less. You were the first person to make me laugh in two weeks even though it seemed impossible. But not with you."

He sees your eyebrows furrowing, hands sliding down to rest on your knees.

"Helaena’s name day came next, your dress was bright pink. Luke tried to make fun of it and you threw a cup full of water in his face. To this day, it’s one of my fondest memories."

You dare to look up at him, perplexed, your eyes wet from crying. 

"Three months after was the light-blue dress, then the peach one and the brown one. Then the white one which didn’t survive the horse riding lesson, and Helaena gave you one of hers. Light green, too long for your liking, even though you pretended otherwise to please her," the corners of your lips tremble, your face softening.

"Then for a year you only wore violet, much to your nanny’s dismay as she thought it made you look ill. And I thought you were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, no matter what dress you were in," he can’t take his eye off you.

Your face expression melts into a stunned one.

"I didn’t realize it back then. Or maybe I didn’t know how to call it. I just knew that your visits only brought me happiness," he takes a step toward you, uncertain, but you don’t move from your spot.

"When you were fourteen, you picked the autumn colors — orange, dark yellow, deep red. Your started braiding your hair, tried to braid mine," you can’t hold back a smile. He was fussy when you first voiced the idea but he ended up loving the process so much, he would allow it just to feel your fingers flowing through his hair.

"I think you actually enjoyed it", you mumble, and Aemond smiles, too.

"I did. I enjoyed every minute that I got to spend with you."

You stand up then, feeling your pulse quickening.

"The day you brought me the eyepatch, you wore emerald green. I was terrified to show you the scar," he pauses, catching his breath. "You assuaged my fears with your kindness. But then I was terrified to learn that I wanted to kiss you". 

You think you are dreaming. Is it possible that you fell asleep under the tree? You don’t want to get your hopes too high, but when he looks at you like this, your own fears start melting away.

“Then was the black dress, the grey one, another white one. The golden one you wore to meet Vhagar,” when he saw you that day, he almost forgot how to breathe. You showed no sigh of apprehension as you fearlessly approached the dragon. He was absolutely besotted.

“And then came the agony of not seeing you for over seven months,” he closes his eye for a second, overwhelmed. He almost misses it when you speak:

“Seven months and twenty-five days. Not that I was counting,” his eye snaps open, instantly on you again.

You gravitate toward each other without even noticing. Aemond’s heart skips a beat when you’re at arm's length, your eyes shining and lips slightly parted. Even in the state you're in, you look so beautiful, it's mesmerizing, and the words are stuck in his throat. You are the one to break the silence:

"Aemond, please don't give me false hope," your heartbeat is too loud, you don't hear your own voice. He does.

"I do not wish to marry you out of pity," Aemond takes the last step. "I want you to be my wife because I'm in love with you," he wipes away the remaining tears off your face, his fingers linger, making you shiver. "I've been in love with you for quite some time. For a few years, actually," his voice gets low. "For what feels like an eternity," Aemond murmurs.

"Why haven't you told me?" you pout, nervously toying with the collar of his shirt.

"I was afraid you didn't feel the same. I still am but maybe... Maybe I am wrong?" his gaze is fixed on you, one of his hands following the contour of your waist, your body warming at the touch.

"Tell me that I am wrong," he whispers, begging.

You look at his lips, the soft curve of them that you’ve dreamt of for so long.

Aemond always thought yours were the most kissable he’s ever seen.

You don’t know who closes the distance first — but his mouth is suddenly on yours and the sensation leaves you disarmed. Kissing him is like being swept with a wave of tenderness, and you’re floating in it, his lips so fervid and supple — truly perfect — your head is spinning. The kiss is not awkward nor modest as you hastily cling to each other, his hands gripping your waist, your chest pressed into his.

Aemond feels like he’s drowning, and he wants more of you — all of you, and then your fingers tug at his locks, eliciting a groan from him, and it is simply a miracle that his heart doesn’t explode. You move in impeccable sync, in the passionate harmony that erupts from years worth of mutual pining. His lungs burn but he resists the urge to break the kiss and stretches it out the best he can until you are breathless, too.

"Never knew that you were so fascinated by my wardrobe choices," you tease, and his hum turns into a chuckle.

“You know what my favorite memory is?” you ask, your forehead resting against his.

“When we were thirteen, and you were teaching me how to hold a sword. I tackled you to the ground and scraped my knee,” you both smile at your then enthusiasm. “And you set everything aside to spend the rest of the day with me even though it was hardly a wound. And I remember thinking,” you hook your finger under his chin, “that there’s nowhere else I would rather be than with you, with this favorite boy of mine.”

The air around you tense, and you are enchanted by each other.

“Did that help to prove you wrong?”

“I may need some convincing,” his breath fanning over your lips.

“You can take your time,” you laugh — and then the sound of it is muffled by his athirst mouth.

His favorite memory will be this.

And every other moment with you that's to come.

author's note: I'm sorry if this came out messy and rushed. I tried my best to write a shorter fic (this is short for me lmao) and idk how I feel about it. I much rather prefer them longer because I'm a sucker for stories about two people getting to know each other and falling in love BUT I get it that others don't want to read long ass fics (which kinda breaks my heart but I'm being so very brave about it) anyways, I hope this was bearable, thank you for reading!

💙 the longer version of this fic might have looked like this (yes, this is a shameless plug! because I adore this one to pieces!! bite me) 💞 my masterlist 🎵 the title is a quote from Elvis Presley's song (duh). there are quite a few covers of it but one of my favorites is by Twenty One Pilots. there's also a female version — by Ingrid Michaelson — and I think both of them fit the story really well. P.S. I'm also on AO3 (lol, who isn't), in case you prefer to read fics there.

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

#aemond targaryen #got the idea out of the blue (oh the things I do instead of sleeping...) #wrote it in two days #pretty sure it's once in a year kind of miracle #my expectations are low though and I will probably never write anything like this again lmao #anyways I think I should get back to actually adding the tags and shut tf up #here’s a SPECIAL tag that I call 'the woman Aemond is in love with stands up for him' #I already used this trope twice and WILL use it again watch me #my stuff #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond one eye x y/n #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfics #aemond targaryen fics #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfiction

[theemporium]

technically the first proper introduction into the charles and blitz world despite how much we talk about them!!

series masterlist

.

“If you die, can I get your Pista?”

Charles lifted his head, shooting you an unimpressed look. 

“What? I just thought we should cover all bases,” you defended, knocking your shoulder against his. 

You knew exactly what was going through his head. You knew he was overthinking the whole thing, making up the worst assumptions and how it could affect the time he would have to take off training. You knew he was working himself up like he tended to do, falling silent and allowing his only company to be himself.

It was the exact reason you insisted on coming with him.

“And out of everything I own, you want my car?” Charles questioned, his eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah well, you treat that thing like your baby—minus the parking skills,” you said with an innocent smile spread across your face. “Surely that makes me a step-mother or some sort of parental figure.”

“The way your brain works amazes me every day,” he murmured with a shake of his head.

“You love me,” you sang, nudging his shoulder once again and, this time, he lifted his arm to wrap it around your shoulder. 

“Unfortunately, I do. Even when you’ve started planning for my death before I go into surgery,” he mused, but you could hear the underlying hint of fear. The one he didn’t really want to admit, but the one that you saw as clear as day anyways.

“Everything is gonna be fine,” you reassured him and lightly squeezed his knee. “Who else am I gonna look down on the top step of the podium if not you?” 

He rolled his eyes. “It is truly a miracle I love you.”

“I’m the best thing in your life and you know it, Leclerc,” you countered, poking his side. 

Charles’ face softened. “Yeah, you are.” 

“Charles Leclerc!” 

He turned to look at the nurse who was waiting for him by the doors, a kind and welcoming smile on her face. You watched the way his face dropped a little, the way his body tensed against yours and you squeezed his knee again. 

“You’re coming back to me, Charlie. It’ll be fine.”

…

“Tu es si jolie, mon amour.”

*You are so pretty, my love.

“English, Charlie. My French is lacklustre at best.”

“Tu es l’amour de ma vie!” 

*You are the love of my life!

You sighed deeply, taking a glance at the boy in the passenger seat of the car. He had a lovesick smile on his face, his cheeks flushed pink and a little bit of drool on the edge of his mouth. He looked adorable—and fucking hilarious if the pictures you sent to his brothers were anything.

However, since the second he had woken up from the procedure, Charles seemed adamant on only rambling your ear off in French. No Italian or English to be heard. Just French. Just the one damn language that you were hopeless in, despite the many years you knew the Monegasque.

“J’ai hâte de t’épouser,” he sighed dreamily as he stared at you with an expression that made your chest tighten.

*I can’t wait to marry you

“I don’t know what you said but me too, buddy,” you said as you reached over to softly pat his thigh. 

However, the boy was one step ahead of you and quickly grabbed your hand to intertwine with his own.

“Regarder!” He giggled, holding your joined hands up proudly. “Nous sommes connectés pour toujours maintenant!” 

*Look! We are connected forever now!

“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” you commented, fighting the odd urge to bite back a smile even when you had no understanding of what he said. “I might need to call your mother if you keep up this whole French act.”

“Oui, appelle-la! C’est aussi ta famille, mon amour!” Charles nodded.

*Yes, call her! She is your family too, my love!

“You know, these embarrassing videos don’t work if even I don’t understand them,” you added, shooting him a look but he just smiled back at you, and you couldn’t really be mad at that.

.

#charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[d10nyx]

can't fight this feeling

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: 18+ content, stepcest, panty stealing, non-con, somnophilia, perv leon, p in v, creampie, voyeurism, brief mention of baby-trapping, just general creepy behaviour from leon, photos and videos taken w/o permission

a/n: this is basically just creepy stepbrother leon. he's real weird and kind of an incel lmao. definitely written with re2r leon in mind. mentions of him being a police officer. the raccoon city incident never happened in this!!

word count: 1.8k words

Leon had never been the best with girls. It wasn't his fault - really! He just had a habit of coming off a little creepy, definitely came on too strong when he was trying to ask girls out. He fell hard and fast, convinced he was in love with a girl if she was so much as nice to him.

He'd been rejected more times than he could count, leaving him a little bitter. He's in his twenties, and he hadn't even had his first kiss. It was fine… totally fine. He wasn't mad about it at all. Women just didn't understand how nice he was. He'd treat his girlfriend so good if a girl would just give him a chance!

He's started to give up on his exploits, coming to terms with the fact he'd probably just die a virgin. That is, until he's blessed with a miracle. Must be divine intervention, he can't believe he got this lucky. His dad ends up telling him he's getting married to the woman he's been seeing for a while, and drops the fact that she has a daughter that's just a few years younger.

He meets you at the wedding, and he's instantly sure you're the one. He's pretty chill for the first few weeks that you two start living under the same roof, him as your sweet step-brother. He always dotes on you, takes you out for rides in his patrol car and takes you shopping.

He deserves a reward for all of that, right?

Well, he doesn't want to scare you off. Not when you're the first girl to actually give him attention. Doesn't matter if you're his sister now. You're so sweet and cute. His cock throbs every time you smile at him, and he's starting to get used to the perpetual erection he sports in your presence.

He starts off pretty slowly. Offers to help you out with your washing, pocketing a pair of used panties for later and washing the rest of your stuff. Holds them up to his face when he's alone in his room at night, inhaling the scent of you and rubbing his cock raw, cumming over and over until it's practically just water and his dick has friction burn.

The only issue is that once he starts, he finds it hard to stop. It escalates pretty quickly. He starts spying on you in the shower, one hand rubbing his aching cock while the other records you washing yourself. He likes the souvenir, and he needs the material for when he can't sneak in to watch you.

He ends up completely cutting out porn. Why would he need it? He's got enough material of you to keep him busy for a while, and he makes it his passion to gather more. Starts sneaking into your room when you're sleeping just to slip your panties to the side and get some close-up shots of your fat, juicy pussy.

Another problem that arises is that he keeps getting bolder. You've almost caught him so many times, and he knows he has to move quickly before you catch on. He flirts with you jokingly a few times, pushing down the anger that bubbles in his chest when you make a remark like ‘ewww, you're like, my brother, Lee. That's so gross!’.

Fine. If you didn't want him, he'd take it into his own hands. It was honestly way too easy to slip a sleeping pill into your nighttime tea. You had been living together for a good 6 months now, and you trusted him more than anyone. He smiles sweetly when he brings it to you before bed, ruffling your hair playfully before saying goodnight and heading to his room.

Not that he stays out for long. He's sneaking back into your room a few hours later when he's sure your parents are sleeping. He walks up to your bed, phone in hand - there's no way he's missing out on getting this on camera.

“Hey, sis? You awake?” He asks softly, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you. He grins widely when you don't budge, sleeping peacefully with one of your legs thrown over the cover. He really is so grateful you sleep in nothing but a shirt and panties. Makes this thing a whole lot easier.

His hand reaches out to touch your bare thigh, palm sliding up your soft skin. His blood all rushes to his cock, and it's already twitching eagerly in his sweats, leaking enough pre-cum that a wet spot forms in his boxers.

His eyes stay locked onto your face as his fingers graze your panties. His breath hitches when you let out a deeper breath, and he stills to make sure you're not waking up. When he's sure the coast is clear, he reaches for the hem of them and slides them down your legs carefully, phone camera trained on your legs while his eyes refuse to look away from your face. He can't afford to get caught, not yet.

He's leaky and dripping when he finally gets your panties off. He moved slowly, not willing to risk anything. He's a but bolder now that you're exposed to his eyes, taking in how pretty you are. His breath stutters in his chest, his eyes wide and lips parted.

He dips two of his fingers between your folds and spreads them apart to give him a good look at you. He makes sure his phone stays angled at you, not wanting to miss a second of this. He slides his thumb along your clit clumsily, trying to copy what he saw in a video online one time. He suppresses a whine at how wet it makes you, arousal dripping down and making his thumb all sticky.

He can't wait any longer. He sets his phone down to wriggle out of his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them off and letting them drop to your floor. He settles carefully on the mattress between your legs, gripping your thighs to spread your legs a little wider, careful not to jog you too much.

He moves a hand to the base of his cock so he can position himself at your entrance, his eyes unable to tear away from the sight. He's forgotten about his phone which is still recording face-down in the sheets somewhere. This has all of his attention now.

He can't help but moan as he pushes the tip past your entrance. You gasp softly in your sleep, shifting slightly. He doesn't notice. He also doesn't really care, to be frank. This feels too good to worry about anything else - the way your tight, wet heat engulfs his length inch by inch. He couldn't think about anything else if he tried.

He fills the familiar tightening of his balls as he fully pushes into you, his eyes widening as he moans again, his cock twitching as he cums inside of you. His breath catches in his throat, and he just stares down at you for a few minutes.

“Fuck…” He murmurs, voice cracking slightly. He's still hard - he's not sure he could ever go soft with you wrapped around him so nicely. But he didn't think he'd cum that soon. His cheeks are a bright red, and he's glad he decided it would be better to have his first time while you were asleep. That could have been embarrassing.

He starts shifting his hips, whimpering at the sensitivity he feels from just cumming. His eyes water slightly, but the tears don't fall past his lash line. He has to bite his lip to make sure he doesn't moan too loudly. He couldn't imagine waking you up like this. Or worse, his dad or your mom.

“Mmph… I'm so sorry, sis.” He whimpers as he starts to move faster, his hips rabbiting back and forth. His movements are sloppy and clumsy, every thrust pushing more of his cum out. He can't help but shiver at the sight, quickly fumbling for his phone so he can capture it.

“Couldn't help it.” He says weakly, voice breathy as he continues to fuck you, causing you to rock gently on the mattress. “You look… ah, fuck… so pretty. So nice to me…”

One hand grips your hip to steady your body as the other shakily holds his phone, recording the slip of his cock in your wet pussy. You're dripping all over his length, making the prettiest little gasps and whimpers despite being asleep.

“See baby?” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. He's already close again. Fuck. Why did you have to feel so good?

“Even when you're asleep, your pussy sucks me in… fuck… s'good. Best thing I ever felt…” He whines, thrusting harshly into you now, gripping your hip tight as he stares at the way your face scrunches up, checking for any signs of the pills wearing off.

He cries out your name as he cums again, his brows furrowing as he buries himself to the hilt in your tight cunt, shooting thick ropes of his cum deep inside you. Finds himself hoping you're not on birth control. If he can get you pregnant, you'd have no choice but to be his... right?

He shakes the thought away, pulling out of you with a whimper. He leans down slightly, recording your puffy pussy for a few seconds as his cum starts to drip out before shutting off the phone camera.

He just stares at you for a while as you leak his cum, the sight making him hard all over again. It almost physically pains him to clean it up, but he knows he has to. He can't have you catching on to what he was doing too early. He doesn't want to risk his chances of doing this again.

He cleans you up carefully, making sure that no sign of what happened remains. He pulls your panties back on carefully, patting your ass gently before giving you a loving kiss on the cheek and scrambling off to his room.

He doesn't let out the breath he was holding until he's safely tucked back into bed. He jerks off to the video he took, pouting when he realises he was too distracted to record him sliding in for the first time. He sighs, but continues watching the video, cumming for the third time that night before going to bed.

He can tell you wake up sore the next morning when your brows furrow as you sit at the kitchen counter, confusion written all over your features.

Ever the doting brother, he offers you a sweet smile and slides a cup of tea over to you, tilting his head with feigned curiosity, as if he didn't know exactly what that face was for.

"Everything alright, sis?”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #tw stepcest #stepcest cw #dark content

[toournextadventure]

a novel life pt.1

Summary: You're a Lit professor at Blackmoor University when you meet Samantha Carpenter. Life becomes... a lot more exciting with her around.

Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: swearing, bullying, sister arguments Pairing: Sam Carpenter x GN!Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4)

You liked Sam.

No, that was quite the understatement. You would almost - almost - go so far as to say you loved her! Not quite yet, obviously, you still weren’t completely, absolutely positive. But you were pretty certain that the things you felt for her could be classified as love. At least that’s what your dad said love was, and he had been happily married for 41 years at that time, so how could you possibly argue with that kind of experience?

It wasn’t like you had meant to fall in love with her. Not that you actively avoided it, you just… hadn’t been looking for her. Both you and Sam had a habit of lying when people asked how you met; they always assumed it was some kind of meet-cute. Her friend Mindy was determined it was something adorable, like meeting at a coffee shop or running into each other at the library.

The truth, the cold hard truth, was much more ridiculous.

“Why are you watching me?”

You blinked hard and looked up at the… woman (?) standing in front of you. She was all blurry and all you could really make out was dark hair and beautifully brown skin. If you really squinted, you could see just enough of her posture that, when coupled with the tone, was indicative of frustration. Maybe even anger, if you pushed it.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t know I was.”

“How could you not know?” She asked, her tone staying incredibly not happy.

“I, uh-” you cleared your throat, “-I couldn’t see you.”

Her laugh was condescending. And pretty. “You were looking right at me.” Her blurry frame shifted. “Come up with a better excuse.”

This strange woman was rather mean, wasn’t she? You kind of liked it.

“It’s not an excuse,” you said once her frame had officially stopped moving.

“Then how did you not see me?” She asked. “What are you, blind?”

You smiled to yourself and set your bagel down. “Kind of,” you said as you lifted your head to face her. Or at least you hoped you were. “I forgot my glasses at my office.”

“Fuck,” she said softly. Her tense tone had disappeared rather quickly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Sounds like you’re used to being watched.”

“You have no idea,” she said quickly.

Wait. That was an opening. You hadn’t talked to a woman outside of work in ages. This was your chance!

“Want to sit down over coffee some time and talk about it?”

You really really wished you hadn’t forgotten your glasses. Without them, you couldn’t see the look on her face. Did she think your question was rather rash? Rude, even? Or perhaps she thought it was a welcome idea, even just to get something off her chest. From the sound of it, she had a lot on her mind.

“Sure,” she said eventually. “I’d like that.”

The rest, as they say, was history. You had both gotten your coffee and you hadn’t forgotten your glasses again. Which made the coffee date a little awkward because then you could see just how truly beautiful she was, and you had not been prepared for it. She had watched you become a stuttering fool who could only spout random, unwarranted facts about things.

By some miracle, she had asked you on a dinner date.

The singular benefit of the entire situation was that you had met at the very beginning of summer break. You had decided not to teach a summer class that year, instead opting to use the hotter months to find more material that you could bring to the fall semester. There had to be a wider range of literature from the Romantic Period outside of what the school had already been teaching when you joined the staff. The literature classes at the moment were so… basic.

Because of this, work never came up. Sam never asked, and you never even thought to tell simply because… well, you just hadn’t thought of it. You hadn’t been hiding your profession, you hadn’t even tried to be sneaky about it. After all, your entire apartment was filled with tomes and first editions of novels and the closest thing you could get to original manuscripts of the ancients. And Sam had very certainly seen the inside of your apartment more than once.

The thought had  never occurred to you to bring up what you did for a living. After all, you finally had a girl…friend? You weren’t quite sure if that term could be used officially, but you were going to use it in your internal monologue. Regardless, this was the first time in years, how were you supposed to remember everything she might want to know? Besides, it wasn’t like she had asked yet.

And neither had her sister! Who, unfortunately, you were starting to think didn’t like you. She had never said it out loud, so you couldn’t be sure, but she made sure to give you a, uh, look whenever you would come over. Sam had told you that Tara loved movies - horror movies to be precise - and you had even managed to find a rare copy of a “famous” B-list movie for her!

It still didn’t work.

“Do I need to try and cook dinner for her one night?” You asked, looking up from your book. Sam was still doing her own studying for her night classes.

“If you cook for Tara, she will eat you alive,” Sam said without missing a beat. “She had to cook for herself for years, she will tear you apart.”

“She’s so scary,” you whispered to yourself before looking back down at your lecture notes. “What if I found the original script of her favourite movie?”

At that, Sam put her pen down. Your stomach fluttered; had you said something wrong? Oh of course you had, you absolute fool. You don’t question someone about how to win over their siblings! Well… did you? Maybe you needed to do some research on the topic.

“Your efforts are sweet,” she said with a soft smile, “but you can’t push Tara. She’ll come around when she’s ready.”

You frowned. “How will she be ready if I don’t try?”

“Trust the process,” she said. She leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before going back to her studying, and you were left stewing in your own thoughts.

The process didn’t make any sense.

—---

“Do you have to go?” Sam asked in a raspy voice.

You looked up from tying your shoes. Sam had rolled over to her other side on the bed, giving you the perfect view of her. Her hair was a mess and her eyes could barely stay open, but she looked just as beautiful as always. The sun had barely started to peek through the curtains to hit her skin at just the right angle. It looked like she was glowing.

Maybe you didn’t have to go.

No, you had students waiting, of course you had to go.

“I’ll be back after work,” you said quietly. Her eyes were still mostly closed, and you didn’t want to jolt her awake; she deserved her beauty rest.

“Be safe,” she said.

You finished tying your shoe and stood up, leaning down to give her a gentle kiss on the lips. She sighed softly. “I’ll be safe.” You placed one more kiss on her forehead before pulling back. She quickly fell back into bed, already fast asleep.

Thankfully, all of your stuff was outside the bedroom. It made it easier to stay quiet, tip-toeing your way out of the room and easing the door open and shut with as little noise as possible. You waited a moment, listening through the door to see if she had woken up, but nodded to yourself in confirmation before turning back around.

And facing Tara.

“Your nerd shit is by the door,” Tara said a little louder than you would have liked. She was going to wake up Sam if she didn’t quiet down a bit.

“Thank you,” you said. Because of course that was something normal people said in that situation. “Are you, uh, headed to class?”

You gestured your head toward her backpack. Which was clearly filled with school books. Which you were more than aware meant that yes, of course she was heading to school. Where else would she be going? You weren’t doing a very good job at winning her over, now she was going to think you were stupid.

“No, I’m running away,” Tara said with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh,” you said sadly. Then, her words clicked in your mind and you perked up. “Oh.” Okay, she wasn’t going to think you were stupid, she was simply going to bully you.

Jokes on her, you had been bullied all your life, you were practically a professional.

“I’m heading that way too,” you said as you ungraciously shoved your arms through your jacket. “Want to go together?”

Tara looked you up and down for only a fraction of a second. “Absolutely not.”

You watched, dejected, as she exited the apartment without another word. Although you weren’t entirely surprised, you weren’t exactly happy about the situation. Well, there went one of your chances at winning her over. You would have to try again next time. And maybe not be so… what did you hear Tara call you the other day… pathetic in your attempts.

Which was going to be rather hard to do when you couldn’t even catch your bus, leading to you having to walk the long distance to the university. It led to you shedding your jacket before getting halfway to your destination, and blisters on the backs of your heels from your shoes. Maybe you didn’t need to dress quite the same if you were leaving Sam's apartment; clearly it wasn’t a safe choice.

You were nine minutes and 27 seconds late to your class.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you said the moment you stepped into the classroom. Everyone was still talking, but they quieted down slowly. “I missed my bus.” You tossed your briefcase onto the desk and started digging for your papers. “Which means, lucky for you, we can skip icebreakers and get right to it.”

There was a mix of mumbled approval and sighs of relief at the release from icebreakers. You would admit, you weren’t too upset about it either. Even though it did help everyone learn names - ahem, it helped you learn their names - it was rather intimidating. No one knew what to say, it put everyone on the spot, and more often than not ended up with no one talking the entire semester. This was better for everyone, and at least you had an excuse.

“Alright,” you huffed, finally pulling the stack of papers out of your briefcase, “pass these around while I tell you about the changes in readings.” Groans quickly followed. “You won’t be buying more textbooks, I’ve got PDFs to share.”

You quickly handed the stack of papers to the student closest to the front, giving them a smile and a mouthed “thank you.” She smiled back and nodded before handing them back. Even as you reached back to grab your own notes, you finally, finally looked out at the class.

And froze when you met a pair of familiar brown eyes.

Tara had a look that you would have classified as “furious.” Although her nose scrunched up like Sam’s, and you could truly see the family resemblance in their anger. That was… well, it sure was something. You hoped you could grow to get used to all of this enough to keep a professional demeanour in class. It wouldn’t do you any good to lose it now simply because your girlfriend’s (?) sister was in your class.

Admittedly, class went on without a hitch. Eventually, after nearly the entire hour had passed, Tara had managed to relax enough to look over the syllabus and even give her input on a few of the readings you had changed up. She was smart. You hadn’t heard much from her, but she was incredibly smart. It was going to be a delight to hear her opinions throughout the semester.

“Alright everyone, I’ll let you out a few minutes early,” you said once you had thoroughly exhausted everything on the syllabus. Had you really needed to take as long as you had? No, but you weren’t going to miss a single piece of information. The point of teaching was to prepare everyone for success, not to throw information out at them and hope they could comprehend it well enough on their own.

The class quickly started packing up, talking about nothing that you had told them about. Which was as expected. You hadn’t been teaching for too long, but you weren’t naive; you knew students usually only cared during class and gave up as soon as they were free.

“Oh, Miss Carpenter,” you said quickly, catching Tara right before she left. “Can we talk for a moment?”

Your heart beat loudly in your chest as Tara sighed, but otherwise nodded and trudged back into class. She didn’t sit, but stayed standing on the other side of the desk. A defence mechanism if ever you saw once. Though, judging by the scar you could see on her hand, you assumed it was for good reason.

“I want to check in with you that my presence won’t negatively impact your time in this class,” you said once everyone had finished filing out of the room.

“Will my presence negatively impact your time with my sister?” She shot back quickly. Why was she so fast? You didn’t answer. She sighed and shook her head. “I’m a big girl, I can handle you as my professor for one semester.” 

“Good,” you said with repetitive nods. “Please inform me if you change your mind.” Tara rolled her eyes, but you weren’t phased. “I do not mean to impede upon your success.”

“Shut up,” she said softly, “you sound like such a parent.”

“I mean it, Tara,” you continued. “You don’t have to like Sam and me, but I don’t want it to impact your life-”

“-Oh my god, I get it,” she interrupted quickly. Her weight shifted between her feet. “Just shut up already, I have another class to get to.”

“Okay,” you said with a gesture toward the door. “Stay safe.”

Tara didn’t bother answering before practically sprinting out the door. You hoped she was being serious about not being too influenced with you as her professor. It was against every part of your being to create a barrier between her and her academics. If she didn’t like you, that was one thing, but if it caused a problem? You would have to talk to Sam about it.

Oh god, you did sound like a parent.

By the time all your classes had ended and you could finally head back to Sam’s apartment, you had nearly forgotten all about Tara being in your class. Now, it certainly didn’t help that you were so focused on getting back to Sam so you could crawl into bed with her and rest. You clearly had better things to think about than a potential, unconfirmed incident at school.

Well, you thought you had better things to think about. When you approached Sam’s apartment door, you could hear elevated voices inside. Elevated voices that were related to each other. And that were surely unhappy about something. Oh gosh. You debated walking away, but what if they were in trouble?

You would not have been the one to save them, but by golly if you weren’t going to try.

“They’re one of my professors, Sam,” Tara shouted while you walked into the apartment.

Oh jeez. You should not have tried to save anyone. Sam was standing near the couch with her arms crossed defensively across her chest. Across from her, Tara was near the kitchen, her backpack and books strewn along the table as if she had thrown it there. Which, judging by her apparent anger, was likely.

“You can’t just date one of my professors,” she continued. “That’s so wrong.”

“You’re an adult, Tara,” Sam said, “you can handle one semester of this.”

You debated stepping in, but couldn’t decide if that would make things better or worse. Clearly Tara had an issue, and you didn’t want to throw it back in her face. That certainly wouldn’t help you win her over. You decided to stay put for the moment.

“I don’t trust them, Sam,” Tara practically shouted. Not quite, but she was building it up. “They just want to show up, worm their way into every part of our lives, and I’m not supposed to be suspicious?” She asked. “After everything we’ve been through?”

“This isn’t-” Sam stopped when she met your eyes.

Tara turned around at Sam’s sudden halt, groaning when she saw you standing there. You lifted your shaky hand slowly, giving a half-hearted wave. Sam’s eyes softened as she watched you, but Tara’s only hardened. And, you supposed you couldn’t fully blame her. She… made a good point.

“I can head out,” you said softly.

“Good-”

“-Don’t.” Tara and Sam said at the same time. Sam glared at the younger Carpenter. “You don’t have to go.”

“I don’t mean to intrude,” you said with a slight shake of your head. “I can come back another time.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she said.

“Seriously?” Tara asked. “We’re talking.”

“And we can talk when I get back,” Sam said quickly. She practically pushed you out the door. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You didn’t get to see Tara’s face at Sam’s order. No doubt it was… not happy. It made you… sad to see them arguing, especially about something as insignificant as you. There was absolutely no reason they should be arguing about you.

Perhaps there was also a small bit of relief at being an only sibling.

Sam leaned against the door and closed her eyes before letting out a drawn out sigh. Your inexperience got the better of you; you didn’t know what to do. Not only had you not had a girlfriend for *ahem* a little while, you also didn’t have siblings. Was this normal behaviour for siblings? For sisters? Surely it was.

No, you needed to think, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sam was clearly upset in some form, and you needed to do something to comfort her. What was comforting? Ah, you knew. You reached forward carefully and grabbed Sam’s hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. They linked together perfectly, like they were meant to be.

She opened her eyes slowly and looked down at your hands. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips before she looked back up at you. There was a slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes; the main indication of her smile that she was holding back. You loved that crinkle.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“Don’t be,” you said with your own smile as you pulled her closer to you. “I don’t blame her for being cautious.”

“I guess it’s my own fault,” Sam said. You both started slowly making your way down the stairs. “I openly disapproved of her partner, so.”

“Payback,” you said with a nod.

“I didn’t know you were a professor,” she said shyly.

You chuckled. “I didn’t know you didn’t know.”

“Tell me about it?” She asked.

You both stepped onto the ground floor in tandem. As much as you wanted to stand there with her all night, you knew she needed to have a talk with Tara. If any of you wanted this to work, you would have to put in the effort and do the things you didn’t want to. At the moment, it was Sam and Tara hashing it out.

“Over dinner?” You suggested. “Next Thursday?” She smiled. “I don’t have class Friday morning and a co-worker suggested this delightful little bistro.”

“That sounds great,” she said. “But you’re paying.”

“It’s only fair,” you said with a shrug. “I suppose this mess is my fault.”

“100%,” she said, biting her bottom lip immediately after.

You didn’t have to be experienced to know what to do next. Her arms instinctively wrapped around your neck as she pulled you closer. Your hands fell to her hips, holding her securely against you. You didn’t have to move very far to kiss her. She tasted lovely; the taste of chocolate, a splash of wine, and the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

She tasted like love

—---

The countdown to your date with Sam had seemed to drag on endlessly. The days seemed to go by too slowly, you only got to talk to her on occasion, and you had been thrown back into the swing of things with… far too many classes to preside over. It was your own fault, of course, but that didn’t make it any more tolerable.

Add to that the fact that Tara, while behaving herself, was keen on giving you some rather distasteful looks during class? It was a rather long week.

But the day had finally arrived! You had finished your class and practically sprinted - to the best of your ability - to the bus stop to get back to your apartment. A simple shower to freshen up, a new change of clothes, and you were all set to go. You stopped by the little bodega on the way, purchasing a small bouquet of flowers, and then you were on your way once again.

Sam had texted you earlier in the day, telling you to stay in the lobby and let her know when you were there. You assumed, rightfully, that it was because Tara was up in the apartment. Things might have been resolved, but that didn’t mean she had to like you yet. It was a fair compromise for the moment.

You texted her as soon as you stepped into the lobby, and she said she would be down momentarily. That was alright, at least the lobby was cool compared to the hot post-summer air outside. It wasn’t miserable, but it was enough that you weren’t too keen on being stuck outside.

“Nice shoes,” a voice said. “They look clean, where’d you get ‘em?”

You looked up from the hole you were staring into the floor to meet the eyes of a youngster coming into the lobby. They had rather kind eyes and a smile that, though accentuated by scars on both sides, was one of the most genuine you believed you had ever seen.

“Thank you,” you said as you rolled your shoulders back. “They’re from, ah, Allen Edmonds? Rockefeller Plaza?”

“I think I know that place, yeah,” the person said. “You’d recommend them?”

“Of course,” you said with a nod. “They’ve been the finest quality shoes I own.”

“I’ll have to check ‘em out,” the person continued. They nodded at the flowers in your hand. “For a girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you said, “she’s on her way down.”

“She’ll love ‘em,” they said kindly. “I’m on my way up to see my girlfriend, so I’ll leave ya alone.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “You two have a wonderful evening.”

“You too,” they said with a crooked half-smile and a small wave before jogging up the stairs two at a time.

It only took another moment or two before Sam came down, looking as stunning as always. Her dress hugged her curves in all the right places - which was every place - and complimented her eyes beautifully. Paired with a simple bracelet and necklace, and you were one lucky person.

“You look gorgeous,” you said softly, pulling her into a quick kiss but being careful not to smear her makeup. “These are for you.”

Her smile was small, a smile that almost gave you more butterflies than her bigger one. This one was almost reserved for you exclusively, and you would have done anything to see it more often.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, leaning up again to press a kiss to your cheek. You hoped it left a lipstick stain.

You grabbed her hand and led her out of the building, hailing a taxi and ushering her in before following behind. In the privacy of the cab, she let her head fall onto your shoulder as she played with your fingers. You didn’t look down, but you felt her twisting your class ring round and round, almost nervously.

“You know,” you said as the cab pulled to a stop at a light, “I met the most delightful young fellow in the lobby before you came down.”

“Oh really?” Sam asked. She had stopped fidgeting with your ring and had started running her fingers over your clothed thigh.

“They asked about my shoes,” you said with a nod, “and said you would love the flowers.”

Her fingers stopped moving.

“What did this “young fellow” look like?” She asked. Her head lifted from your shoulder; you instantly missed the sensation.

“About yea high,” you said, indicating vaguely how tall they were. “Crooked smile.”

“Scars on their cheeks?”

“That’s the one,” you said with a nod. “I liked them.”

“That’s Tara’s partner,” Sam said with a huff.

“Oh?” You asked, intrigued. Well, you certainly wouldn’t have guessed that.

“The one I don’t exactly approve of,” she continued.

“Oh,” you said with far less excitement. “Well, I thought they were lovely.”

“I’m sure you did,” she said. Her tone indicated annoyance, but you glanced down in time to catch the small smile on her face that gave her away.

You pulled her back into your side and kissed the top of her head as the cab continued its route to the bistro. Maybe it wouldn’t be too difficult to get all four of you to get along. You loved Sam, even if you weren’t quite ready to admit it yet. After all, with her hand in yours and your lips pressed to her skin? What was the worst that could happen?

#samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter imagine #sam carpenter imagine

[letoasai]

dp x dc

I’m usually more of a lurker in this fandom, you know? But this happened and it just needed to be written down. If someone wants to take the idea or continue it, go for it! Prompt - Consort

~~~ ~~~

Danny is told that while he is officially the Ghost King, there are a few last minute things to check off the list to keep the Observants from being able to mess with Danny's business. Clockwork even subtly confirms that this is something Danny should consider carefully. Being able to keep them in check is important.

 While not keen on a to-do list, Danny sighs and trusts that Clockwork is ultimately giving him less work.

He spends a few years doing odds and ends. Whatever task Clockwork mentions and it honestly suits Danny fine. It’s giving him time to grow into his position. It’s going well, that is until he learns that in his last task he has to consummate his newly acquired position in a very traditional way. With someone else...

That's bad enough, but it's thrown out to him that he must do this with one of his own kind. It's never been an issue before since The Ghost King is usually... a ghost and can pick whoever they want in the Zone.

Danny however is a halfa and because he's only one of three halfa's he's forced to pick between Vlad and Dani. A fruit loop and his clone/sister. The first is horrifying on many levels and the second is just plain unappealing. It's not happening, nope. 

It's practically a miracle that before Danny can completely fall into panic, Clockwork mentions the existence of a forth halfa. 

It doesn't matter who they are, it HAS to be better then his current options. That's how Danny ends up in Gotham.

~

"I can't believe you went without us." Sam complained. "We could have gone with you. What if you need help?" 

"I don't think Gotham is ready for ghost powers, Sam." Tucker commented. "Any trouble he runs into won't know what hit them." 

"Could you both stop wishing trouble on me?" Danny asked, he should have known he'd get ganged up on when he had them both on the phone at once. He was looking around and had noticed how he wasn't headed to the...best of neighborhoods. Had he not had ghost powers he might have turned right around. 

He'd gotten a fairly nice hotel room for the long weekend in a somewhat nice area. All of Gotham looked pretty damn bleak to him but at least he could easily survive in a place like this. There was so much ambient ectoplasm in the air that he was, frankly, surprised he hadn't spotted more ghosts. It was all to his benefit though. 

"Wishing?" Tucker chuckled, the sound of his keyboard clicking on the other side of the call. "It'll find you whether we wish it or not." 

"And then you'll be able to say you got to fight in Gotham." Sam lamented. 

"So this isn't about me not bringing you along to help me find this halfa, but because you just wanted to see this city in particular?" 

"Little bit." 

Tucker started laughing. "Damn, Sam. Nothing's stopping you from visiting." 

"There absolutely is." Sam grumbled. "Their names are Jeremy and Pam." "We're graduating soon, Sam." Danny commented. "After both your eighteen birthday and graduation you'll find your freedom." 

"And possibly your way out of their living will." Tucker commented, but Sam only snickered at the thought.

"That doesn't help me today. Danny's out in one of the coolest cities ever on a quest to get laid, and we’re stuck having a boring weekend." "Sam." Danny hissed as if someone else could have possibly over heard their conversation. This entire situation was beyond awkward. He didn't even know how to start. Hi, you're a halfa too? Wild? Wanna sleep with me so i can make sure my position isn't puppeteered?   "What? That's literally why you're there." Sam was back to being amused, conveniently forgetting for a second that she wasn't with him in Gotham. "You're not gonna seduce anyone with that attitude." "I'm not trying-!" "Aren't you supposed to be though?" She hummed. "Gotta put that charm to work, Phantom." "Oh shut up..." Danny grumbled. If this halfa immediately pegged him as king, would they feel obligated to sleep with him? Ugh, this was the worst. If the ghost he was tracking lived in this neighborhood then it was no wonder he was half dead... "I mean, the wording of this could mean anything." Tucker commented right as the clicking stopped. He'd shown his to-do list to Sam and Tucker ages ago, and this hurdle had always seemed so daunting. "Go forth and find what's just. A night of bliss and trust. A match for your soul in desire. A second coming to conspire." Tucker repeated the lines. "Man, someone did not take a poetry class." Danny just made a face, so sick of the instructions that even making fun of it didn't help anymore. "And you think that can mean anything?" Sam hummed quietly. "I guess you were told it was a basic innuendo so that's what you hear. It’s what we all heard." "Yeah, it doesn't say go fuck." Tucker said. "Could just mean you could hang out for a night and vibe. Video games. Take out." Danny made a face. "I can't see me doing that with Vlad either." "I should fucking hope not." He could practically see Sam's disgusted face. "Okay but that still doesn't make sense. I gotta hang out with another halfa? Why? Why would that block the Observants and their never ending input?" Danny wondered. "No idea." Tucker relented, "But it's worth a shot. right? You can always hang out first and see if it works. If it doesn't... well then you know what you gotta do." "Flirt. Bend over and show your butt. It's eye catching." "Sam..." Danny sighed, this was exhausting. She clucked her tongue. "It's good advice. Even Paulina did a double take last week." Danny just made an irritated sound in his throat, nearly tripping over a destroyed section of the side walk. All the businesses nearby had bars across their windows as extra security and more and more people seemed to loiter. "So glad that ship has sailed." Young crushes were painful. "It could also mean cuddling?" Tucker offered. "How'd you make that leap?" Sam asked. "Guys." Danny interrupted suddenly, his ghost sense chilling him. "I'll call you guys back. I might have tracked them down." "Don't forget!" Tucker said, tone only slightly accusatory. Sam just made a noise of agreement. "We'll want the whole play by play." "Well... maybe not the whole play by play." Tucker added, but Danny just hung up on them. His support system was filled with bullies. See if they got their Gotham tee-shirts now! Danny turned down an alleyway, not sure just yet what he was following but it felt fairly powerful. So far he'd seen mostly shades and remnants of what was. He was left to try to find this halfa the same way he had to track down Dani when looking for her, and that usually meant looking for a big source. When he took a turn and nearly walked right into an obvious drug deal, he inhaled sharply and turned invisible. The dealer had looked up at the sound but brushed it off a moment later when he didn't see anyone rounding the corner. Gotham was nuts but at least they weren't clowns. Deciding it really was within his best interest, Danny transformed completely, staying invisible for the time being as he followed his ghost sense through the scary part of town. Minutes felt like hours but he spotted a dude coming closer on a motorcycle and Danny's skin felt like it was vibrating. The halfa was a guy, okay. Danny could work with that, he really could. Even sitting on the bike, the guy looked a head taller than Danny. All the ghost powers in the world couldn't take away him inheriting his mothers build. For fucks sake, did he have to become evil to bulk up?! Danny flew closer, wanting to get a good look, only to have his vision impeded by a red helmet. When the bike swerved and the rider looked around around, likely sensing him, Danny backed off. His jaw was already hanging open in disbelief. Red Hood. That was Red Hood. Red Hood was a halfa?! Okay, he was the freaking Ghost King. When was that memo gonna land on his desk. Holy crap. Was he actually going to ask Red Hood to have sex ...er... platonically hang out with him? Danny's face was going to explode with heat. He flew away, watching him from the sky. Red Hood slowly brushed off whatever he had felt from Danny and rode on, making only a few more turns before stopping at an apartment building that Danny wouldn't have thought was still in use. This had secret lair written all over it. Danny followed, waited, watched. Of course he knew all about the vigilantes of Gotham but he hadn't really expected to run into any of them. Honestly, what were the odds? What did he do? Red Hood was technically a killer but he'd met more then one ghost who'd been avenged. It caused mixed feelings really. After two hours of nothing, a guy walked out of the same apartment. This time in street clothes. Same build, same height, same half energy. Crap. There goes that secret identity. Danny didn't know his name but he knew what he looked like. Dark hair, that curl of white in the front. Light eyes. Permanent looking frown and... Well now, Danny was frowning too. Something about his energy was off putting. Twisted. Wrong. Well... that would need to be looked into. From afar, Danny watched him go about his evening which involved stopping into those little stores and checking on people. Those people seemed to greet him with a friendly smile and know him somewhat well. Danny also got the impression that none of these people knew he was Red Hood, though he wasn't sure it would have mattered if they had. Red Hood was a crime lord but this was his territory... his haunt. Danny wasn't quite sure how this was both incredibly confusing while making all the sense in the world. He'd have an attitude too if his ectoplasm was all jacked up. What was he supposed to do? Suddenly if felt so presumptuous to show up at this guys doorstep to ask for such a favor from a stranger. He could leave and figure something else out, but the guy clearly needed help too. Maybe they could work out a trade or something. Danny felt torn about the whole damn thing and only decided to suck it up and act like an adult when his alternative was to call Jazz and ask for advice and he was not asking his sister about this. He flew ahead of the guy, making it back to his apartment first. He turned human again and sat on the stoop to wait for him. Internally he went over his lines in his head, what he would say, what parts he could leave out but all of that stopped when a shadow towered over him. The guy somehow seemed so much bigger in person. "You alright, kid?" he asked, there was the strange mix of concern and suspicion on his face. "There's housing up the street if you need someplace to go. They take anyone." "Oh uh..." His haunt had a place like that? Cool. So much for all those lines he’d been rehearsing. "I wanted to talk to you, actually. If you have a second?" He raised a brow but gestured to Danny with a nod to continue. Guess they were doing this out here then. "Okay, this is going to sound strange as hell but i've been looking for another halfa to help me with something. It's like.. a stupid huge favor and, fuck i hate even calling it a favor because that sounds weird. I also wanted to say up front that you can totally turn me down too, this isn't like, a demand or anything." Danny started talking, and couldn't seem to stop. His nerves were getting the better of him along side this guys emotions which were confused and itching with something aggravating. "It's not like i wrote this particular law either. I'm not even sure why i agreed to this shit but i've seen bad alternatives before a-" "What the fuck are you talking about, kid?" he interrupted. "Rude. I am actually eighteen." Danny grumbled. His eyes narrowed. Did he think he was lying about his age? "You sure about that?" "Yeah, my birthday is the same day every year." Danny deadpanned, almost getting a smile. "Let me start over, um, my name is Danny." he stood but didn't offer his hand because this guy didn't look like he'd take it. "And i've been looking for you." "Right i sorta got that, but why?" Danny could already feel his ears turning red. "Okay, hear me out because this sound fucking awful. I need to sleep with a halfa." Just rip that baid-aid off right?

Red Hood's frown was back full force. Guess he was still Red Hood since he didn't offer a name. "What the fuck is a halfa?" Danny short circuited. Was it possible this guy didn't know? "Okay." Danny said slowly. "Backing up and starting over again. Did you... You... You know you died once, right?" He scowled. "Yeah, i was there. How the fuck do you know that?" "Oh good, we don't gotta go back that far. Okay. Okay, so a halfa is someone that died. Like me." He gestured to himself. "Who came back. Someone who is half dead and half alive. There's only four of us. I have to sleep with one because of some political bullshit and i know how desperate that has to sound to you but i absolutely can not sleep with my sister or a fruit loop that wants to marry my mom." Red Hood stepped closer, a large hand wrapping around Danny’s bicep and pulling him along with him towards his door. It was opened long enough for the two of them to slip through and then shut and locked again. "Alright, lets unpack everything that just left your mouth and start to pick out the sane verses insane pieces." He said, somewhat exasperated. He was unhappy. Very unhappy. Danny had to hide a wince, guess Hood wasn’t ready to talk about his death. Jazz would be pissed, he needed to learn to be more sensitive about these things. "You're half dead?" "And so are you." Danny said. "Haven't you noticed any ghost abilities?" "Any what...?"  Distress. That was an odd reaction. Danny looked around, there wasn't much furniture but there was a couch and Danny made a show of going intangible and walking right through it. "Anything like that?" Red Hood was frowning. "No. Look. Half dead and half alive sounds more like a zombie to me. Where are you getting this ghost shit? How did you find me at all?" "Ghost sense." He scowled. "Of course." Danny sighed a little, biting his lip and brushing a piece of hair from his face. "Okay, this is my fault. I'm bad at explaining and i'm sorta having too many conversations at once. Lets start with you. You ever seen like.. glowy green sludge?" His scowl deepened, for a second there was true hatred etched into his face but it wasn't directed at Danny. The suspicion and distrust however were. "What do you have to do with the Lazarus Pit?" Danny blinked, it was evidently his turned to be confused. "The what?" "The green shit, kid. The Lazarus Pit. It's what did this shit to me. What drives me insane." Danny frowned. "The green sludge is ectoplasm, which we need. It shouldn't hurt you, but if it did...could explain why you feel so twisted up inside." He scoffed. "Twisted up, that's the kindest way anyone has ever put it. I don’t need someone elses insane ramblings on top of what i already got in my head. So if you're looking for a fuck, go somewhere else." "Okay." Danny muttered, he'd known that could be an option. "But would you let me see if i could straighten out to ectoplasm anyway? I think i can help at least a little and uh, i think your's is trying to eat away at your soul which is...bad?" Hood actually dropped onto the couch, looking beyond done with this day. "Do you think you there's anything i haven't tried?" "I bet you have." Danny said, stepping closer. "But my ectoplasm is healthy and isn't trying to eat me. You don't really have anything to lose, do you?" Trustme. Trustme.  His expression was nearly murderous and Danny could taste the rage. It seemed like he was having a hard time controlling it, and the more Danny looked, the more he was blaming the tainted ectoplasm. It even seemed to block some of the calm Danny was pushing towards him. "Kid, you have no idea what you're -" Danny stepped closer, hands on Red Hood's chest. He could feel the faint humming of a drowning core, trying to breath through the toxicity that had been forced into his body. Danny added his own ectoplasm to the mix, a sort of ghost transfusion. Ghost King privileges came with a wide aura and a lot of energy. There was a shudder, and the difference was almost instantaneous. The tainted ectoplasm had tried to rear up, tried to roll into rage and snowball but Danny just had more to work with. Danny didn't remember kneeling in front of his new acquaintance, or shutting his eyes, or shifting into his ghost form. He was however, aware of his core tuning into Red Hood's, trying to coax it to life...so to speak. He didn't know what it would have been like, a half ghost but confined only to his human side. Maybe if he'd never known any better it wouldn't have mattered to him but the thought of it now was suffocating,

There was a moment when Danny suddenly felt Hood’s confusion. It seems like he was finally picking up on Danny’s silent messages. 

"What did you do?" Red Hood asked, sounding tired, but far less hostile. "You made it quiet. You're also..glowing." Danny looked up at him with a nervous laugh. "Well, i did say i could fix it. This fix is kinda temporary but I know Frostbite can fix it for you permanently. I'll talk to him." He reached up and rubbed at his eyes, "...Thanks...." "No problem Hood." His eyes jerked up and Danny just smiled. "I won't tell anyone..." He hissed in soft irritation but it didn’t match his emotions. He was still riding the high of being in control of that rage. "So i did feel you following me earlier? I swear there was something around." Danny nodded once. "Had to be sure you were who i thought you were... and all..." Excuse. Excuse... Red Hood shook his head. "My name's Jason. I have a hundred questions minimum about this half ghost thing." "I could probably answer most of them?" Danny offered, realizing he was still on his knees in front of Jason and quickly getting up, a cold blush coloring his face as he shifted back into his human form.  Jason watched him, brow quirking again but he seemed so much more relaxed now that the tension was drained out of him and the taint to his ectoplasm was quiet. It almost made him seem a little younger too, not that Danny would have pegged him any older than early twenties, if that. Maybe he was still a teenager too. "Halfa's... You said there were four of us?" Jason asked cautiously. "Yeah." Danny sat on the other end of the couch. "My sister who is also my clone, and Vlad. Billionaire asshole who's a major creep." "Clone. You have an interesting life."   "That's a lot coming from Red Hood." Jason snorted. "Fair." he paused, proving he'd been listening to all the jumbled up words Danny had been spurting. "Why do you have to sleep with a halfa?" "Aah..." Danny's face went hot again. "So...i..." he paused. "Okay this all sounds bad. I defeated the Ghost King in combat, making me the new Ghost King." Jason brow arched again, "Kudos." "Thank you? Anyway... there's a lot of stupid... add on rules. I didn't make them. Hell i don't even know them all. Some ancient jerk just tells me one at a time. Usually with bad timing which is stupid because he basically is time." "And one of them is fucking?" "Ugh." Danny actually groaned, head falling into his hands. "Someone of my own kind and there's only us four..." he spoke into his hands. "Sucks." "Little bit, yeah." Danny looked up at him, hoping Jason wasn’t actually feeling any of Danny’s nerves or embarrassment. "My friend has a theory that it might not mean sex exactly and might be more of a proximity thing." Jason didn't look overly convinced. "And you decided to try that with some guy you don't know over your clone?" Danny blinked, brain crashing. If he could have just had a sleep over with Dani and avoided all of this... certain ghosts were going to get banished from the Infinite Realm. "Didn't think of that did you?" Jason snickered suddenly and Danny just groaned again. "No.... She's like my sister, i just completely wrote it off." He was going to die... again. This time of embarrassment. Jason laughed softly, the sound not used very often these days. "I mean, i guess i get that. Some times things are easier when you're family isn't involved." "You can say that again..." Danny muttered. Jason leaned back on his spot on the couch, watching Danny with something like amusement in his eyes. He was...so different without the tainted ectoplasm gnawing on his soul. He was finally relaxing. "Well, your Majesty. Would this get me a favor with the king?" Danny's blush stretched down his neck. "Don't call me that. It's too weird." "Nope." Jason was grinning now. "Too much fun. You are way too easy to fluster for a guy that just popped up to ask for sex." "That's not-...!..." Danny winced. "I mean you said no, so that's that." "Changing my mind." Jason said instead, attuned to Danny's look of surprise. Ah, fuck he was definitely able to read Danny now. "Besides. "I have a hundred questions, remember? I'm sure we can mange between rounds." "Rounds?" Danny mouthed the word but no sound came out. Okay, it wasn't a big deal if his heart stopped beating but he was pretty sure it just did. Yeah, it stopped. "O..okay." He attempted, but it just seemed to endear him more as Jason moved again, his time leaning closer. Okay, hot guy in his personal space, he could handle this. It was why he was here.   Jason tugged on Danny’s hair. “It changes. Black to white. That’s cool. Kinda wanna see it more.”

Okay, hot guy in his personal space, he could not handle this. “It uh..yeah. Does that. Alive verses dead i guess. I’ll show you once your ectoplasm is worked out. I don’t see why you wouldn’t gain abilities too once your core is sorted out.”  “You really love to say words without context, don’t you?” Jason said and his amusement was loud.  “I guess... i get ahead of myself.” Danny muttered, unable to make eye contact as Jason slid closer. This was not his first kiss. What was going on with him?  "It’s alright, i’m a quick learner. Besides, i really want to say thank you for you clearing my mind, even if it is temporary." Jason muttered. He’d been screaming for help but no one had ever heard him before.  "We will get that fixed." Danny promised, voice just as quiet. "First thing tomorrow, if you want." "Second thing." Jason said, reaching out to cup Danny's cheek this time before drawing him closer to kiss. Danny didn't think you could see stars in Gotham but he was sure seeing them now. ~~~~  ~~~~

I kinda wonder who’s going to tell Danny he just found a consort. My money’s on Frostbite....  ...As for who tell’s Jason?....That’s Dani barging in to meet her new brother in law  Hope you enjoyed this, feel free to add whatever you want.

Master List 

#dc x dp crossover #danny phantom #danny phantom x jason todd #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Clockwork spent years setting Danny up for this #consort #my writing #dc comics #Sam and Tucker think this is hilarious #They'll never let Danny live this down #how Danny met his boyfriend #politely asking for sex #crossover #danny phantom/jason todd #Don't tell Jazz

[flowerandblood]

The Gate of Salvation NSWF Alphabet

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

NSWF Alphabet for Aemond from my mini series The Gate of Salvation made for my one year celebration. I show perspective of what it looked like with his beloved. Dirty things below.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Afterwards, he is a complete devastated, crying mess, going through some kind of panic attack, and the only thing that can calm him down is her reassurances that she still loves him, that she is not disgusted by him, that he is not a bad person, that she forgives him.

He snuggles up to her and literally sinks into her body, pressing his face into the hollow of her neck, feeling safe only with her. Once he calms down he makes sure she is comfortable, that he hasn't hurt her and she doesn't need anything.

B = Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

He adores every part of her body because she is a miracle of God for him, but he loves her eyes most, her soft, tender gaze, he melts thinking about it.

C = Cum (anything that has to do with it)

He cums only on his own hand. He doesn't want her to be touched by the effect of his sin, dying internally every time she licks everything off his fingers.

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Well... he is the Pope. Everything he does with her is his dirty secret.

E = Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

Before his beloved: absolutely none. His morning erections aroused his disgust. He had never thought of such things before he met her, considering them simply sinful and primitive.

F = Favorite position

Sitting with her on top, his face nestled between her breasts, he can then touch and feel her in every possible way, can kiss her and watch her reactions, which calms and arouses him, while at the same time not really seeing anything.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

There is no room for laughter in this sacred act of their closeness, what they do and how they do it is a very serious matter for him.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

All natural and clean, as God himself has created him.

I = Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

He is very insecure and affectionate, he needs to feel her close, her embrace and her voice give him a sense of security. He could spend the whole night whispering in her ear how much he loves her, how much he needs and wants her, satisfying her with his fingers, gazing in awe at her fulfilment, comparing her to Bernini's Baroque sculptures.

J = Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

He only masturbates in front of her to restrain himself from throwing himself at her right away and put his cock inside her – he wants to feel her this way when he's already on the edge. He doesn't touch himself when he is alone and thinks about her, repenting in this way.

K = Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Definitely a religious kink. Her calling him Holy Father when he touches her, when he slips his fingers deep inside her, or thrusts into her, send him into another orbit.

L = Location (where they like to get it on)

As comfortable as possible, in her room on her bed, somewhere they can both feel safe because they are still stressed about being caught in the act.

M = Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Her telling him that she loves him, that she is only his, the sight of her at least partially exposed body, her crossed legs when she sits, her breasts peeking through from under her dress when she is not wearing a bra. His manhood literally throbs with delight at the sight of her every day.

N = No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

He would never let her give him a blowjob or handjob. He would die of despair, shame and regret for humiliating and insulting her. Anal and other weird things are out of question. Big no.

O = Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

He would never let her suck him off, but he himself had dreamed of tasting her from the very beginning.

He would arrange everything so that the room was completely dark and he could not see this intimate part of her body, but only feel it with his sense of touch, and then with slow, timid flicks of his tongue he would bring her to the brink of despair.

Hearing her sobs, her thighs shaking in his embrace, her hands clutching his hair, he would slide his tongue deep inside her, eating her weeping cunt like a starving man until she came all over his face with the loudest, sweetest moans of pleasure he had ever heard.

He would do it often to her ever since.

P = Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Because he's constantly aroused and doesn't masturbate when she's not next to him, he doesn't last very long, but neither of them cares.

Q = Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

On the beginning they do it painfully slowly, but once he's deep inside her, his brain disconnects, and he slams into her as if he hasn't seen her for a month.

R = Risk (do they like to try new things)

Definitely not. Meeting his beloved is risky itself.

S = Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

After one round, he is so overwhelmed and shocked that he needs at least a day or two to calm down and come back to himself.

T = Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

None.

U = Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

When he sees her talking or getting close with any other men, his mind goes into the mode of a stern judge who asks her if she is sure that she deserves to be fulfilled. He gives it to her, satisfied only when she is a babbling, leaking, quivering little mess, reminding her to who her body and soul belong to.

V = Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

When he touches her in her most intimate place, when he rubs against her leaking cunt with his cock, when he thurst into her he is a whimpering, panting, babbling mess.

W = Wild card (random canon of any sort)

None.

X = X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Heaven's Delight.

Y = Yearning (sexdrive level)

When he sees her, he is melting. It doesn't necessarily always end with sex, but he always wants to be as close to her as possible.

Z = Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

He makes sure that she fell asleep first, listening to her calm breathing, and he cuddle himself between her breast and sleep like a little baby.

He wants to cry when the alarm clock on his phone rings before sunset so that he has time to get up and go back to his rooms before anyone realises he's not there. He is so comfy and warm in her embrace, lying with her under the duvet, that he only wishes he could stay with her longer.

#aemond headcanons #aemond headcanon #aemond targaryen headcanons #aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #modern aemond headcanons #modern aemond #modern aemond smut #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #hotd aemond #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd smut #targaryen smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fandom #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character

[benedictscanvas]

bluebells - remus lupin x reader

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

word count: 0.8k

a/n: i just keep thinking of teeny tiny remus concepts and i have to write them every time. thought it would be fun to do another in the recent universe (1, 2 & 3) from sirius' perspective. this is quite unedited, but i'll have a check on it tomorrow. enjoy sunflowers <3

---

“Do you have a secret admirer you haven’t told us about?” Sirius asks, as innocently as he can.

The question has Remus sitting up a little straighter on the stool in your kitchen, just as he intended. Remus may never have spoken to him about his feelings for you, by some miracle, but they were plain as day to anyone with a brain cell between their ears. Sirius was fairly sure you were equally enamoured - but you were harder to read than his precious Moony.

“What are you on about now?” you laughed, able to shrug off the question easily. Sirius sidled up to the tiny vase of flowers that sat on the granite countertop, filled with imperfect bluebells that didn’t look shop-bought.

“Only the very pretty bouquet in your kitchen that someone has clearly picked for you,” he practically purrs, “And don’t try to convince me you picked them yourself, doll, because I know for a fact you haven’t been walking in the woods.”

That only makes you laugh harder, and Sirius knows he’s got you. He’s hoping you’re about to praise whoever picked you those flowers and Remus will get sufficiently jealous to snog you senseless or something. Sirius hasn’t figured out his full match-making plan yet, admittedly.

“Obviously, I didn’t pick them,” you agree, glancing with obvious shyness towards Remus, who already has telltale pink cheeks, “Remus is the one doing all the woodland walking in this group. He is sometimes kind enough to fill my teeny tiny vase for me.”

And Sirius just gapes at you. Then at Remus. He can’t help it, because whatever he was trying to achieve, it is utter madness that Remus himself could be the one to pick you flowers and still neither of you could move past a more than friendly friendship. 

Remus is glaring at him now, because he’s clearly been gaping so long that he’s made the whole atmosphere awkward. You turn your attention back to making cups of tea, but Sirius sees the way you fluster. He’s made it weird. He was trying to make it a bit weird, yes, but not like this.

“Sorry, I had to take a second there,” he said, through a half chuckle, “Just struggling with the idea that Moony is bringing you flowers and he’s never once thought to bring some for me?”

Sirius is just charming enough to get away with it. Remus softens, his glare now holding far less scorn and you throw him a smile over your shoulder as you get the milk out of the fridge.

“He likes me better,” you argue playfully, sticking your tongue out at him. Just like that, all awkwardness is gone and replaced by the almost flirting thing the two of you do that drives Sirius mad - he wants to tell you both to give your heads a wobble.

“I can give you the leftovers if you like, Pads,” Remus chimes in, “But I’m afraid the finest flowers are already reserved.”

And Sirius watches Remus smile at you like you’re the sun and moon and all the stars combined, and it melts his heart a little. Who is he to rush you? You grin back at Remus like there’s a secret to be shared.

But of course, Sirius must keep up the facade and so he grunts in annoyance.

“I see how it is. Fifty years of friendship and look where it gets me,” he grumbles, “Pretty sure picking flowers is objectively wrong, too.”

“Drama queen,” you say through a cough, then adopt an instant wide-eyed innocent look when Sirius rounds his glare on you.

“Fifty years? We’re in our twenties Sirius.”

“Friendship like ours defies the laws of nature, honey,” Sirius smirks, and Remus’ nose wrinkles.

“And if you pick flowers in moderation, it can actually benefit their conservation,” you say, placing the three cups of tea on the table and waving Remus over from the island stool to sit with you and Sirius, “So drink your tea and stop whinging, Sirius.”

He gasps in mock offence and then pretends to burn his tongue on the tea, just to see you and Remus roll your eyes at him together. When Remus sits down, he thanks you for the tea under his breath and you smile your brightest at him, squeezing his elbow as you hurry away to get the biscuit tin.

Sirius takes another look at Remus’ lovestruck face even though all you did was touch his elbow. He’s not sure whether it’s cute or slightly sickening, but he glances at the pretty shitty bluebell bouquet on the table again and decides that if the two of you are happy as you are, he won’t try to interfere again.

(it lasts all of thirty seconds, because the two of you gang up on him about biscuit choice as soon as you sit down with the tin, and Sirius immediately decides it’ll be worth it to fluster the two of you, if only for his own amusement)

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #marauders x reader

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 25 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

“Surrender to me. I will eat this sweet pussy every morning for breakfast. I will be your slave.”

You don’t believe him, of course, but there is a growing desperation in his pleas that fills you with warning. He’s been patient with you, but you wonder if someday this man will not snap.

He has you tied up again.

You’d watched him produce the red ropes earlier with resignation, but surprisingly, no fear. You realize that you have arrived at a place of relative numb, where you have accepted he will not satisfy you without your submission, but you trust him not to really hurt you.

Drive you absolutely batshit insane, maybe. But not hurt you.

You’ve had time to think about it, and you know there are so many things he could have done by now to really win your compliance. He could have beat you. Starved you. Drugged you. All the usual dirty tricks men have used to keep independent women in line over the millennia.

He has not so much as spanked you, really, except for that once the other day, and even you know that had been child’s play.

More and more, you have come to understand that this man has been through it. He’s told you more about his brutal past, curled up with his head in your lap, spilling his soul to you while you stroked his dark hair. You have discovered that once he feels safe, the taciturn Mr. Wick actually has a lot to say.

If you hadn’t been sleeping beside him, the signs of PTSD might have escaped your notice. But after over a week in his non-stop company, you have woken beside him when he’s riddled with night terrors, his strong hands gripping your body hard enough to leave bruises. Sometimes he zones out, and you know he's not really seeing the room you're in. 

After hearing about his training (as a fucking child soldier!) and the things he had to do to survive over the years working for the Bratva, trapped in a cycle of violence he had little power to escape or control, you honestly think it’s a miracle that he’s come out of it as intact as he has—and goddamn if there isn’t a part of you that wonders if you cannot bring him back.

You should know better by now, than to think you can fix a man with your love. It’s a mistake you’ve made before, in your younger years, and you should know that nothing lies down that path but disappointment and heartbreak. But…what else do you have to do with your time?

Take up knitting?

You had watched him with a distant fascination, as he looped your wrists in the cord, securing them with beautiful knots before affixing your spread arms to the metal headboard. You had thought the curled iron design of the bed to be very pretty, but now you understand the form of it is perfect for knotting ropes in various positions.

You’re not sure how long he’s been torturing you with his tongue, bringing you right to the edge licking your clit with his fingers buried inside you, before withdrawing right at the last moment. He always fucking knows, even when you do your best to remain still as a stone. You have been going through your days in a constant state of low-burning arousal, perpetually wet with slick and uncomfortably swollen. You feel where his body has been every time you sit down, keenly aware of what he’s done, and what he hasn’t allowed you.  

“My poor darling,” he continues to taunt you, taking a break to nip at the inside of your thigh, your soft flesh already riddled with little bruises. “Why do this to yourself, when with three little words I could set you free?”

You cannot hold in your ragged sigh. “It’s kind of nostalgic really, just like my first boyfriend in high-school. Getting fucked constantly with no real hope of satisfaction…”

Wick responds to this with a snarl, the way you knew he would. Jesus Christ but his teeth are sharp. Suddenly he sucks at your clit with a vengeance, making you squirm and cry out in surprise. Of course he stops before you even have the chance to make use of the friction.

“I do not want to hear about the other men you’ve had in your life,” he cautions you. “I’m the only one who counts now.”

“Could have fooled me.”

When he gets on his knees with a dark look, you do feel some satisfaction. You’ve learned if you piss him off enough, he’ll try to punish you by taking his pleasure and leaving you hanging. At this point, you’re just relieved that it’s over.

“That smart mouth needs filling,” he growls, guiding his tip to your lips, and you let him fuck your face, sucking his glans messily with a swirl of your tongue the way you’ve learned drives him mad. The only time he catches a hint of teeth is not your fault, but his, in his enthusiasm for trying to shove his cock down your throat. It’s not long before he cums, spilling hot seed across your tongue. Some of it dribbles down your chin, and he wipes it across your lips with narrowed eyes, daring you to spit it out.

You’re foolhardy, but you’re not stupid. You lap it from his finger like a good girl, watching the post-orgasm glaze take over his midnight dark eyes.

The monster will be sated, for a little while.

You’ve bought yourself time, but no real relief.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine

[vixensbrainrotts]

Tr headcanons (volume ||)

Content: headcanons

Warnings: none, lmk if I’m wrong

Vixen’s two cents: this is the part two I sorta promised. Do you agree with some of my headcanons? Please do tell me some of your own I would love to hear about them!! Let me know if you enjoy this, I love hearing about it!!! Now enjoy! I’ll link the part one once I figure out how to change the link

VOLUME I

Rindou who went through a long stage of denial about having to wear glasses before he finally admitted that he can’t see jackshit without them.

Mikey who genuinely stops and stares at every rainbow he sees. No matter where, no matter what situation, if the refraction hits his eye all pretty and colorful he‘s going to take a moment to appreciate it.

Kakucho who is a bitch for crystals. Diagnose him with a clear lack of Rose-quartz and push some shiny rocks in his hands and he's happy. He melts when he's presented with personalized crystal pouches and pretty rocks that he can caress in his pockets. He doesn't really buy the whole rocks as remedies thing but he likes the stones that come with it.

Izana who has a whole Ecosystem figured out for his aquarium. He takes it super seriously and makes sure that every tropic level is sufficiently cared for. The plants are non-invasive and regenerative, he has a moss-ball for natural filtration and the algae that he does allow is probiotic. He makes sure to have a predator fish to control the exessive baby-making his Guppies do, and has shrimp as decomposers. He specifically cares to make sure he has the correct school-size for each type of fish and makes sure that there is no stress between species.

also Izana who has a log book for his aquarium where he enters all the plants and fish he's gotten, how many times he's done a water change, and whenever a creature dies. It's the most controlled part of his life.

Emma who has a single Orchid flower in her room that Shinichiro gave her for her Birthday one year. She's read books on how to care for it properly and nurtures it like a mother. She cried once when it lost its blossoms, thinking it would whither and die, but later figured out that it was just the change of seasons.

Baji who unintentionally mean-mugs people when he spaces out and stares. It's real bad because his eyebrows furrow deep and his lips fall into a frown. He doesn't mean it at all, and is kind of upset that he keeps scaring people away.

Takemichi who has really bad allergies against seasonal greens. You can't catch him outside during spring without a puffy, snotty, swollen face. Its bad-bad.

Ran who sort of lived for the buzzcut he had in juvie, and thinks about just buzzing off everything again every once in a while.

Mitsuya who has both his eyebrows pierced right where the slits are. They are (by some miracle) aligned perfectly and suit him sooo well.

German/Russian Hanma who gets frustrated whenever he forgets a word, because he doesn't only forget it in one language, but all languages he speaks. Its not like he could translate it cause he knows it in another language, no! He straight up forgets the word in every language he speaks

Hakkai who wants to be good at baking so bad but created poison whenever he tries. They aren’t even salvageable by sugar coatings, fruits or sprinkles- they’re dry and crumbly and sometimes salty. It’s sort of a shame because he tries really hard.

#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x you #tokrev #tr content #tr headcanons

[leohamatoblog]

As a Dad: Donnie Edition

Authoritative

• he was never a stick in the mud or off the walls, he's more of an in the middle of all his bros when it comes to personality

• out of all his brothers, you'd think he's the most qualified to be a dad, he thinks he is, but he's as much of a disaster as the rest

• he relies heavily on research once the baby is born (biologically by miracle or adoption) but then when the science back fired, he had an epiphany

• 0-8 month stage was the hardest for him because he doesn't do well with screaming and crying but he knows the baby can't help it so he just wings it

• he discovered science isn't what helps him be a parent, it's getting to know the child so he's a pretty hands on dad

• the toys are all home made and cater to brain stimulation and growth

• he definitely takes the child everywhere with him cause that's now his little friend

• sleep schedule is all messed up so he's usually the one to take the night shift

• loves the walking and talking stages cause now he can start introducing the kid to his non-deadly projects

• thus begins the 2-8 stage. poor donnie

• he has way more patience than leo could ever have cause he's a middle child, so he becomes a more gentle parent

• not a yeller and not a physical punishment kind of guy. the naughty corner is definitely a thing

• this is the stage where he reads up on how to deal with tantrums and redirecting, so he becomes the de-escalation king

• it worked until puberity.

• 13-17 were not fun for him and he really felt splinters pain from when he was this age

• the kids are respectful and really nice kids, until they are fighting with each other or being told no

• grounding became a thing and donnie isn't the best at sticking to his punishment (lets face it, he's a softie), however he still reads those books and knows he can't back down

• he often invites his kids to his lab and to help him with his projects, it's his way of spending time with them

• the kids think donnie wont find out things but donnie always knows

• sometimes his head gets stuck in his computer or in a project, but he always makes time for his kids

• he's a binge watcher so he watches tv shows and movie series with the children all the time

• kids are super smart so an A/B average is no problem and he's their personal tutor when they need it

• never forces his interests on the kids but he teaches them things he thinks they need to know

• boy dad coded but if he had a little girl he would also be a great girl dad

• his tinkering sessions with the kids is his time to really figure out what's going on in their heads, thus creating a judgement free zone

• not an overly affectionate dad but he's very supportive of all the kids do

• he definitely says it's parenting

• he's the fun parent by far

• he will make sure your kid excels in whatever sport or activity they decide to take up, but also teaches them not to be little jerks about it

• no problem playing dress up or getting his make up done

• no problem rough housing or wwe wrestling after you said no

• he may be the man of the house, but he usually says that you're the boss so the kids have learned to ask you first over him if they want something

• he is always attending every event the kids have and watches through security tapes or he sneaks in

• he teaches his kids how to dominate the world

• he has the best bedside manner when his kids are sick or upset about something

• he makes science nicknames for your kids and still calls them by them into their adult years

• honesty and respect is the one thing he instills in the kids

• he lets them have ice cream for breakfast on their birthdays

• type of dad to call and ask what you're doing rather than text

#rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt ask blog #tmnt bayverse #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #ask blog #tmnt 2003 #tmnt headcanons #tmnt imagine

[thestarkerisobvious]

I Have To Tell You Something

Waking up with Peter in his bed, with Peter in his arms.  Was there a better feeling on this planet, or in any other?  Peter sitting up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, to yawn and stretch, to reach for his phone and then dismiss it, looking happily down at Tony before laying back down again.  Tony was happy.  Tony was on cloud nine.

That was his only thought as he inquired about Peter’s day, Peter’s plans, Peter’s agenda.  As Peter reached for his phone again and started talking, Tony only had one thought in his head.  This was too good to be true.  This was paradise.

Then paradise stood up and began to climb out of bed, then stopped.  

“I have to tell you something.”

Tony’s chest tightened.  He didn’t know how the kid did it - Tony had once flown a bomb into an alien wormhole and the only panic he felt came years later - but this kid could do it.  Say the one thing that made his whole body cold and his forehead sweat.  It was uncanny… like this kid had superpowers, or something….

“Yeah… it’s… okay this is really hard…”

There he was sitting, like a vision on Tony’s bed, naked as the day he was born, grinning in the afterglow and, supposedly, headed off to take a shower when he had stopped short and sat down again.  He was taking deep breaths before speaking.  Tony couldn’t breathe at all.

“... because I really like you…. THIS.  I mean I really like this.  Kind of a lot.  Like it’s… gosh the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.  And that includes going into outer space with you.  And I don’t… I don’t want you to think…”

Tony opened his mouth but nothing came out.  Of course.  The superpowered miracle in his bed was about to break up with him.  What else was there for a mere human to say?

 “Oh gosh, I mean I hope you don't kick me out of the penthouse for this but…”

“Peter!”  Tony said, finding his voice at last.  Right now the boy was blushing slightly and looking like an angel from some extra-divine level of heaven.  Only Tony was pretty sure the extra-divine levels of heaven wouldn’t approve of older mentors taking their 20-something mentees to bed on occasion.  On many occasions.  Okay on all occasions when they weren’t out saving the world.

But it was no-strings-attached-sex, Tony had insisted.  It could start and stop whenever Peter wanted and there would be no consequences… Tony insisted… no consequences for saying “yes” but also no consequences for saying “no” either.  Tony had made that crystal clear… hadn’t he??  He had to make it clear once again.  

“Peter,” he scolded, sitting up at last.  Peter was sitting crosslegged on Tony’s massive Alaska King - Tony copied him and now they sat knee-to-knee to talk.  As if Tony didn’t have a care in the world.  As if he weren’t steeling himself to receive the bad news that Peter was done with the “benefits” part of the “friends with benefits.”  

Steeling himself?  He was Iron Man.  He was Iron-ing himself.  He would survive this.

He could survive having his heart ripped out by this young boy, couldn’t he?  Hadn’t his heart suffered more damage than this?

“...Robin… you are always going to be welcome in the Batcave.”  Even if it meant Peter would go back to sleeping in his room and Tony would lay down in this cold, huge bed.  Heartbroken and alone.  “So don’t talk like that.  You know none of this…”  He waved his hand around the rumpled sheets.  “You know this isn’t what matters.  Just… tell me anything you want.”

For a moment, Peter’s face fell in disappointment.  And Tony realized he would move heaven and earth to wipe that look of disappointment off Peter’s face.  Even if it meant Peter didn’t want to get naked with him anymore, Tony would have to be okay with that.  As long as Peter was happy.

“Anything, Peter,” Tony found his mouth saying now.  He hooked his hand around the back of Peter’s head and pulled their foreheads close.  “I mean it,” he said, and was surprised to find he was sincere.

Peter took another deep breath.

“I really need you to…”

Another deep breath.  He touched their foreheads together.  Then he leaned into Tony’s embrace to lay his head on Tony’s shoulder, whispering into the older man’s embrace.  

“I really need you to stay closer after I… after you make me come.  I mean… I mean we don’t have to snuggle-snuggle… but…”

Tony moved his legs out the way and wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him close.

“I mean… I guess… maybe I do?” Peter asked, sounding slightly relieved.  “Need to snuggle, I mean… just for a moment, not forever…”

“Oh kid, of course, why didn’t you just ask?” Tony said, or would have, if he could have spoken.  Instead he was just pulling Peter’s head to his chest and rocking him back and forth.  So the kid couldn’t see.  So the kid couldn’t see his face breaking with relief, with gratitude.  Peter wasn’t ending this ill-conceived mismatched sexual liaison… not yet.  Not today.  Tony still had a few days left in paradise.    

“...and… I don't know but… if maybe you could…”  Peter was continuing, feeling bolder.  Tony kissed the side of his face in encouragement.  

“What, baby?”

“…if you could talk to me.  Afterward.  Just a little, I mean.  Your voice is such a turnon… but after I come it just goes away completely and that leaves me feeling… unmoored.”  

And Tony Stark, the man Pepper had described as a “wall of sound,” the man who had driven lovers mad with his inability to stop talking after sex, the man who had spent a solid decade disappearing after sex just to avoid his struggles to avoid conversation, that Tony Stark, said yes.

He said it calmly, of course.  He held his young lover tight and chuckled at Peter’s embarrassment, explaining that the only way for the two of them to be good in bed together was to practice, and making a few obscene suggestions along the way.  Peter was all grins and snuggled into Tony’s embrace, gladly engaging in the conversation, making suggestions of his own, and generally expressing relief.  And Tony…

…Tony was laughing at himself.  Laughing in relief.  He had made such an effort to stay silent in bed, to leave Peter alone, to give Peter his space.  But what if he didn’t have to do that?  What if he didn’t have to try so hard?  He was all grins now, just like the boy in his arms.

He was on cloud nine.

#Starker #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #thewitchway writes stuff #Tony Feels #Peter Feels #Tony needs a hug

[differentclasss]

Christmas One Shot ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Neil Lewis x Reader

pairing: Neil Lewis x reader

summary: Neil throws a party at Gumshoe and admits his feelings towards y/n.

warnings: smut 9 (a handjob) and not really proofread writing. Neil is a little cringe in this lol. Probably not in character

a/n: I wrote this so quickly but I just wanted to get something out for the holiday! Also, send me requests! I have some free time so I'll probably start going through those again.

Honestly, you would’ve spent Christmas alone if it wasn’t for your friend Neil deciding to throw a last-minute watch party of It’s a Wonderful Life at Gumshoe Video that day. It was the most in spirit of the season activity you had done that December with the whole idea of Christmas spirit being a little lost on you recently. You didn’t know why you lacked the usual zeal compared to Christmases of years prior but the whole month of December just seemed like any other month. It was true, you were getting older but even so, you normally had at least a little bit of enthusiasm for this time of the season. You pushed these thoughts away, however, telling yourself you would at least have fun at the small gathering at Gumshoe. You would work for free every once in a while too at Gumshoe, when your schedule was free, so you knew everyone there. It would be fun, the same ensemble as usual all planning to go.  Neil was the planner of this whole thing too, which truth be told was the entire reason you were even going. You had a small crush on Neil, he was cute, and it was hard for anyone not to find him cute. He was the type of cute that would make you do something really stupid if you weren’t careful, which is why you admired him from a distance, only ever playfully flirting with him but all around keeping it pretty friendly. 

Christmas day came and you slept in, no reason to get up early with your work being closed that day and the watch party being at six in the evening. Eventually, four rolled around and you spent a bit of extra time getting ready, you told yourself you just wanted to dress up for the holiday but deep down you knew that attention-seeking part of yourself wanted to impress Neil, even in the slightest. Off you went, donning what you considered a festive outfit and grabbing a bottle of wine as a party gift, not wanting to show up empty-handed. When you got to Gumshoe you took note of all of the decorations in the windows. There were twinkling lights and a few cardboard cut-outs with those cheap Santa hats draped over their heads. You thought if anywhere could offer you single-use Christmas spirit, this would be the place. 

After making your rounds of brief catch-ups with some of your fellow regulars, you spot Neil. He’s over by the television, fussing with the VHS player. He curses under his breath as he clicks the on and off button a few times and waits for something to happen. 

“Is it broken?” You ask, appearing over his right shoulder.

 

“I hope not.” He mumbles. “Before you ask, I already unplugged it and plugged it back in and I’ve been pushing the on-off button for five minutes now.”

“It’s old,” You say and crotch down to the player's level. “You try hitting it yet?”

“What?” He asks, looking at you with a bewildered face. 

Without another beat, you lean over and hit the top of it with your clenched fist. Neil looks a bit shocked, maybe a bit afraid that you just broke it completely, but then it turns into a happy grin as the VCR turns on.

“It’s a Christmas miracle.” He says in his charming boyish way. 

“I just earned my wings from that.” You joke back and stand up, then hold the bottle of wine out in front of him. “Oh, here. I wasn’t sure what kind of wine you liked so I kind of eyeballed it but… Yeah. Merry Christmas, Neil.”

“Oh, thank you. Red?” He says with a small grin as he takes it from your hands. “It looks nice… Thank you. Oh! I have a, uh, gift for you too. You’ll like it, come on.” He nods his head to the office and walks in front of you.

 

His office was lightly decorated with a small Christmas tree on the corner of his desk. You watch as he opens a drawer and shifts through it for a minute. He pulls out a crudely wrapped small box, the same shape as a VHS, you can’t help but blush at the gesture. He hands it to you and you take it, looking at his poor gift-wrapping abilities. It’s sweet though, making you feel a little guilty about buying him a meager bottle of wine. He tells you to unwrap it and you do, pulling the wrapping apart revealing a tape of Vivre Sa Vie, you had been looking for it for months now and that pesky blush just got worse from the sentimental gift.

“Neil,” You say and look up at him. “You didn’t have to do this… Thank you so much. I’ve wanted for this ages now.”

“Don’t mention it.” He waves his hand. “I know you’ve been looking for it and you’ve been such a great help here lately.”

“Thanks.” You say again and smile. You want to lean in and kiss him on the cheek but you decide against it. “Well, we should probably go out there and start the movie, yeah?”

He nods and you both take your leave into the main floor of the shop. You sit down on the couch and watch as Neil does a small introductory to the movie like he always does at events like this. After he starts the movie, he opens the bottle of wine pours a glass for himself, and then pours you one. After he hands you the filled glass, he sits next to you and you feel his thigh against yours, making it hard to concentrate on the movie.

Somehow you managed the whole two-hour runtime without dying from some sort of sexually frustrated-related stroke. The wine didn’t help either. You were a little tipsy, Neil having poured too much in your glass, and being near him for so long made it clear to you that you liked Neil a lot more than you originally thought. When the characters Mary and George in It’s a Wonderful Life kiss like they need each other, you find yourself looking at Neil through your peripheral view. Once the credits were rolling, people were starting to get up and either leave or refill their glasses. Neil stood up to say goodbye to some people who were leaving and you could breathe for a moment, not having to feel his thigh against yours. After a moment of contemplation, you decided to leave, it would be the best option with how you were feeling. You knew that he was cute enough to make you do something stupid and with the right amount of wine, you would probably act on it.

“Leaving already?” Neil asked as he saw you put on your coat.

 

“Yeah, it was fun but… I should probably go home and get some sleep.” You said.

“Aw come on, it's not even nine yet…” He said with his best puppy dog eyes. “We were gonna Eyes Wide Shut next. You should stay. What else are you going to do?”

You went back in forth in your head for a moment, but in the end, you knew you were going to stay. How could you deny his pretty blue eyes? He was right, after all, you would go home and probably just watch a movie by yourself. 

“Alright,” You say with a small grin and shrug off your coat. “Just one more movie…”

“Great.” He says and then takes your empty glass. “I’ll get you another.”

You wanted to say no thank you but he was already grabbing the bottle and pouring another, thankfully not overfilling it like last time. Those who were staying, which weren’t many, all retreated to the couch and Neil sat back down next to you after putting the next film in the VCR. You tried to focus all your thoughts on the movie this time but your mind still wandered. You thought of his lips and his hands instead of the movie. 

This film was just as painful as the first, all because of Neil. You swore he moved closer to you while the picture played out. You finished the glass halfway through and decided against another, feeling a little hazy. Amid your hazy and lustful thoughts, you realize more people are leaving and get up to say goodbye. After you say your farewells, you realize it’s just Neil and you in the store. You feel awkward and grab your coat.

“Wait.” He said quickly, making you stop what you were doing. “I hate to ask but… Uh, could you help me clean up the place a bit? I just don’t want to have to deal with it tomorrow morning.”

You agree and set your coat down. After all, this will probably only take an extra half hour. You don’t mind spending more time with Neil either, you’re just worried you’ll ruin the friendship, despite not knowing him that long. You start by picking up any cups and he starts to sweep. You offer to mop but he says he’ll do it tomorrow. It ended up only taking twenty minutes and you both are okay with the results. It’s not spotless, but it will do for now. You stand next to him after you finish and then look up at him.

“I had a great time tonight, Neil.” You tell him. “And thanks for the tape. I don’t have to return this one, right?” You joke.

“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head. “I hope you like it.”

“I will, I’m sure of it.” You say. “Well, goodnight.”

“Wait.” He says and lightly grabs your bicep as you start to walk away. “I don’t know if it's the wine or the whole "sentimental-ness" of this holiday but… You look pretty and I was hoping I could, uh, kiss you.” The way he phrases it makes it sound like a question and you blush at the request. 

“We can chalk it up to the sentimental nature of the holiday and dissect it another day.” You say teasingly and walk up to him. “You’re in luck though, I’ve been thinking about kissing you for a while.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He puts his hands on your waist and kisses your lips at first softly, but then much rougher as it goes on. You both stumble for a moment as you try to find a solid surface to lean on. He lands on the back of the couch, leaning on it as he pulls you closer in your kiss. You try to keep up his kisses but they seem too quick to try to find a tempo. He squirms as he kisses you sloppily. His hips rut against you as one of his hands holds the small of your back and the other settles on the back of your neck. 

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbles between kisses. “Ever since I met you I wanted to kiss you like this.”

You can’t think of anything to say except little moans of praise. Your hand slinks between the two of you and finds his fly which you unzip and sneak your hand into. He grunts as you palm him through his boxers and eventually, pull him out. Your hands send shivers down his spine. He had thought about this for ages, how you would be in such an intimate moment. He never thought you would be so willing and so open to the idea of pleasing him like this. He keeps grunting into your mouth as your hand works up and down his cock, pre-cum spilling from the tip and on your hands. Based on how sloppy his kissing is getting, you don’t think he’ll last long. 

You kiss him harder and apply more pressure to his hand job, making him whine as his breathing gets shallower. His hips start to buck into your hand, wanting to get as much pleasure as he can through you. You think for a moment to bend down and replace your hands with your mouth but you like how he kisses you much more. You don’t notice his grip on you tighten before he bites down on your lip and muffles his moan. You feel something hot on your leg through your tights. His breathing slows and he comes to his senses.

“Shit,” He says and pulls back, looking down at the sheer tights you’re wearing. “I’m sorry. I can buy you new ones! I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine.” You giggle and look down at your now-ruined tights. “They were like, two dollars. Don’t worry about it. Just a little gross now.”

“A little?” He asks with an embarrassed laugh. “I’ll make it up to you. How about we go get dinner together this week? I’ll pay, obviously.”

“If you wanted to take me out to dinner, you didn’t have to come on my leg. You could’ve just asked.” You tease and then lean in to peck him on the lips. “I’d like that a lot though. I like you a lot too.”

“I like you too.” He says, blushing at the elementary confession. “Let me get you a towel. I’m sorry.” He adds and retracts from you to go find some way to clean up his mess.

It is probably the weirdest Christmas you’ve had, never before experiencing a love confession or for that much, getting your tights ruined by a guy's cum, but you feel hopeful weirdly. You feel hopeful because of Neil, come this time next year, you’ll be with him you hope. Maybe it’s not the perfect way to start a relationship but it is the start of one. One you’re optimistic about. 

#neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis x y/n #neil lewis smut

[disillusioneddanny]

There’s a Fine Line

Danny stared at his shoes, eyes unseeing as the adults bustled around him. They were just messing around. Just taking pictures in the lab. None of this was supposed to happen this way.

The adults whispered to one another, a miracle they said. Standing in the portal had somehow been the only thing that had saved him.

But it hadn’t. It definitely hadn’t saved him, that was for sure.

Just five hours before everything had been normal.

“Come on Danny, just step inside so I can take a picture!” Sam had insisted, holding her phone ready to take a picture of her friend.

“Yeah man, it just looks so cool, don’t you think it’d make a pretty cool picture?” Tucker said with a smile. Danny just gave them a nervous smile and shrugged the jumpsuit on. His parents were upstairs cooking dinner, Jazz was in her room in her bedroom doing homework. No one would notice if he just stepped in for just a second.

Once he had gotten the suit zipped up, Danny walked towards the portal and took a step in only for his foot to get caught on a cord on the ground. He felt his body propel forward and caught himself on the wall, his hand slammed into a button.

After that, it was just pain.

When he woke up, the house was gone, fire blazed around him, sirens rang through the air but there was no house. Just him and the portal. He slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up from this nightmare. But the house was still burning and-and that was Sam’s boot on the ground but where was Sam? Where was Tucker? Or Jazz, or his mom or his dad?

“We found the youngest Fenton! He’s alive!” A fireman shouted, running towards Danny.

It had been some kind of nuclear explosion, they said. Something in the lab had exploded just as Danny had turned the portal on.

Now he was sitting in the Amity Park police department as the officers tried to figure out what they were going to do with the fourteen year old. Apparently someone that had been scheduled to meet with his parents about buying some of their weapons was coming to talk to him.

Danny wasn’t sure what exactly was going on but he didn’t really care. Everything in him was demanding that he run away, fast away and disappear forever.

His Aunt Alicia refused to foster him after learning he had come out as trans, no one could get a hold of his mysterious god father that he’d never met, he was basically completely and totally alone.

Everyone he knew and loved were gone and it was his fault. He should have never gone in the portal.

Bruce Wayne hadn’t expected this to happen when he came to Amity Park. The twenty-six year old had originally come to this sleepy town to talk to the Drs. Fenton about their inventions and studies. If there was any credence to their work, he was interested in purchasing at least a few of their weapons, just on the off chance that ghosts ever attacked Gotham. He had not expected to see a large mushroom shaped explosion from across town at the very place he was supposed to go to in just twenty four hours.

Then he had learned that the only survivor in the house had been the Fenton’s youngest child, Danielle Fenton. Something in him had screamed that he needed to go and meet the young girl to see if she was okay, to provide some kind of comfort. He knew what it was like to lose your parents at a young age, he had been even younger than the young girl when he had lost his own parents.

He raced to the police department, already prepared to take the girl in. Only, when he had gotten there, he just seen a teenage boy sitting with a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“Ah Mr. Wayne!” An officer said upon seeing the billionair. “My name is Officer Haddis, we spoke on the phone. It’s so kind of you to offer your home to Ms. Fenton here-”

“Mister,” Danielle said, glaring at the officer. “I’ve already told you, I go by Daniel. My parents just never got to change my information,” Daniel snapped, glaring at the officer. They looked at Bruce with a scrutinizing look, their brows furrowed. “Who’re you?”

Bruce smiled and crouched down to the teenager’s level where they sat in the creaky, plastic chair and held out his hand. “My name is Bruce Wayne, I use he/him pronouns. I was supposed to meet with your parents tomorrow about their inventions. I’m so sorry for what happened,” he said quietly, his chest aching at the dullness in Daniel’s eyes. “I lost my parents when I was really young too. I was thinking, maybe you could come stay with me?”

Daniel stared at him for a moment before they took his hand. “Danny, he/him. It’s better than getting thrown in fostercare, I guess,” he mumbled, shaking Bruce’s hand. “If you misgender me, though, I’m kicking your ass.”

The vigilante just chuckled and shook his head. “I wouldn’t dare to do something like that. Now, how about we get some paperwork finished and we can go back to my apartment and start figuring out what we’re going to do from here.”

The rest of this fic will be posted here if you want to read more

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dpxdc

[ballblender]

Could you write for KNB where gn reader has tattoos that are usually covered up with their school uniform and during the summer vacation training at the beach everyone gets to see them?

Not sure which school you wanted me to write for, so i just made a scenario with Seirin + GOM/Vorpal Swords :>

Beach Training Camp!

Kuroko No Basuke with Tattooed!Reader

Kinda long, I like writing about KNB characters a lot, they're too silly.

It’s not like the guys hadn’t noticed the way you’d slyly pull down your already-long sleeves in front of them during practice. It got to the point where the team thought you were ashamed of your body, which led to a little intervention where they sat you down and started listing things that they liked about your personality, much to your confusion. They got really into it too: tearing up by the end. It was only until Kuroko muttered "You don't have to feel insecure around us, ok?" that you realised what they were trying to do.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because that's not the reason I wear long sleeves!" you laugh out, clutching your stomach. "I thought you guys were trying to kick me out nicely!"

"...So what is the reason?" Koganei asks, Mitobe nodding along.

You chuckle a little more, still amused thinking about how long they must've been thinking this way.

"...Don't snitch."

The moment you pull up your sleeve, their eyes widen in disbelief...

...and not long after, the questions come flooding in.

"Is that a lizard?"

"Idiot, it's a dragon."

"Does this mean you're in a gang?"

"I thought the age to get a tatoo in Japan was 20."

"How did you get that?"

"Is it real?"

You chuckle once more, used to this kind of reaction.

"I lived in America, and the state laws were pretty soft on tattoos as long as you have writte consent from an adult. Got my first one a year ago, and now we're here."

Some turned to Kagami for some kind of confirmation on those laws, but he just shrugged, equally as shocked as they were.

-

-

Anyway, the events of the big tattoo reveal were 4 months ago, and it's still funny to look back on, even in the backseat of Kagetora's car, as you talk with Riko.

"But really, I never thought you'd have an arm covered in ink."

You laugh again, before putting on a cheeky grin.

"If you thought that was unbelievable, you have more to look forward to." you snicker, reading her confused reaction. She scans your outfit for stray areas of revealed skin, but to no avail.

"The hell are you planning..."

As you turn up at the beach, helping to unload the basketball hoops from Kagetora's boot, you see some familiar faces waving in the distance.

"Y/N-chii! Over here!" yells Kise, soon met with Aomine's palm to the back of his head.

"Moron, we're in public, you know." utters Midorima, pushing up his glasses.

Akashi and Murasakibara sit at a bench; one studying the antics and dynamics of the other three, the other chomping on a box of ice pops.

"Hey, I wasn't expecting to see all of you guys here." you say, impaling the pole of the hoop into the sand.

"Kuroko invited us, I assume we can stay?" Akashi replies.

You nod, smiling. "Of course! We're just waiting on the him and the others now."

Riko grunts, "Seriously, how can you invite people and then be the person who's late!" she exclaims, kicking the sand in an animalistic manner, earning a few confused glances from the others.

You laugh a little, before turning away, bag in hand.

"I'm just going to change into my beachwear, I'll be back soon."

"MAKE IT QUICK!" Riko yells, as you nod.

-

-

During your outfit change, the Seirin team turns up, jumping off the bus.

Immediately, Kuroko is met by a slap to the back of the head.

"Kuroko! If you wanna invite guests, tell your coach first!"

Kuroko mutters a little apology, timidly side-stepping away from her.

-

-

Eventually, a match begins. The Generation of Miracles on one, the Seirin team on the other.

Aomine gets a steal early on, before realising he can't dribble.

"Aomine-chii! Pass to me, don't just stand there, what are you looking at?" yells Kise, before his eyes land on you, jogging over with a more comfortable outfit for the heat.

"Hey, have you guys already started playing?"

Everybody just stares.

"...Hello?"

Riko is the first to say something.

"Lord."

There you stand, both arms littered with tattoos, along with ink traced along you collarbone and across your back. And don't forget the thighs.

"...What?" You ask, confused by the sudden attention.

Kuroko's eyes are just a little wider than usual, as he says, "I thought you only had one tattoo." You shrug, "Well, I didn't say I only had one tattoo."

Akashi squints his eyes at you from a distance, scrutinising you with his gaze.

"They look nice."

Aomine makes a point to act unbothered, but inside, he's freaking out. "oh my god they're a gang member i'm literally gonna get my ass beat holy shit i'm not ready i haven't even won an oscar before oh jesus i can't die like this i'm too young"

Kise on the other hand is very loud, commenting on all sorts of things, “Did you get those done here? In America? I have a fellow model with a similar design to that!”

Murasakibara just stares like a confused child, just glad that you’re here so that he doesn’t have to move around as much.

Midorima is also a member of team act unbothered, but backs up a bit. Not that he thinks that there's anything explicably wrong with having tattoos, but more so that Oha Asa predicted that "Cancers, watch out! You may encounter something or somebody dangerous today!". In hindsight, it was a ridiculous action to take; you'd always been so kind and welcoming to him and his team in previous matches and practice games, but we wasn't going to take the chance.

Kiyoshi is the first, and only person to laugh; he also laughed when you showed the team your first tattoo, he just finds these kinds of situations amusing.

Hyuuga and Kagami take the scolding route, half-heartedly berating you as you look at them kind of confused, they don't really mean anything, they just don't know how to respond to this kind of thing.

Izuki finds a way to crack a joke about the whole affair, much to the surprise of absolutely nobody.

Mitobe and Koganei compare notes scrawled on a little pad.

"Ha! I predicted it! 7 tattoos!" Koganei exclaims, as Mitobe sighs softly and hands him a ¥1000 note.

You giggle and clap your hands together.

"Let's continue the match!"

--------

Thanks for the ask!! Can you tell who my favourite characters are from the amount written for each LOL

Also omg an opportunity to write about Riko I will take any chance i get i love her personality so much

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #kuroko tetsuya #aomine daiki #midorima shintarou #kise ryōta #murasakibara atsushi #akashi seijuro #kagami taiga #kiyoshi teppei #hyuuga junpei #izuki shun #mitobe rinnosuke #koganei shinji #riko aida

[buddhamethods]

10 BL Characters I Want Carnally

AKA I'm just a person with two keen eyes and dubious morals when it comes to enjoying media so don't take it seriously, I'm here for a good time.

Thank you @sndrys for tagging me! This was an eye opening experience putting this together. As it turns out I might have a type (ew).

1) Guy from Bake Me Please (2023)

The sole reason for me creating this list! Look, I dropped Bake Me Please almost immediately because it just wasn't for me BUT I've been lowkey watching through my dash. And let me tell you, my fingers gain consciousness and hit reblog everytime this baby's face pops up because...well...LOOK AT HIM. He is beautiful and he should get the guy (hehe get it) in the end idc.

2) Yok from Not Me (2021)

Yok is such a beloved character and for good reason! He is sexy, he is gay, he sets buildings on fire and steals cops' wallets on accident because HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT GUY HE WAS STALKING WAS A COP??? I love you Yok, never change.

3) Palm from Never Let Me Go/ OurSkyy2 (2022-23)

The anger I felt for all the injustice and mistreatment our beautiful Palm had to face in this show took literal years off my life. It's rare for me to get this passionately protective over a character and yet here we are, in the Palm Protection Squad headquarters. Even Nueng is on the watchlist!

4) Tonhon from Tonhon Chonlatee (2020)

Not to out myself as an enjoyer of silly goofy times , but I did have fun watching Fish Upon The Sky and Secret Crush On You, so OFCOURSE I thought I would like this one too but GOD was it rough. Did I still finish it? Yes. Did I fawn over PoddKhao pairing and have been quietly praying for some kind of reunion ever since? Also yes. Was I foaming at the mouth barking everytime Tonhon AKA Podd was on my screen? I'm not gonna comment without lawyer present.

5) Tew from My Dear Gangster Oppa (2023)

Speaking of Tonhon Chonlatee...AH! Ai Long Nhai (TC's spiritual prequel of sorts) was sure...something. And by something I mean I saw Meen and decided I will never speak ill of men ever again, feminism quite literally left my body. And then a year later My Dear Gangster Oppa came out and guess what??! MEEN IS THE GANGSTER OPPA! Dreams really do come true, kids.

6) Wen from Moonlight Chicken (2023)

(or Tian from ATOATS or Mueang Nan fron FUTS). Mix...I will eat you. Always so dewy and healthy and sparkly-eyed. But Wen from Moonlight Chicken is something out of the realm of my imagination. The sex appeal? The maturity?? The gentleness??!! Somebody sedate me before I say something I will not be able to justify in court.

7) Vee from Love Mechanics (2022)

He is a pretty bisexual who makes the most abhorrent stupid decisions known to men and then weeps and suffers for them WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED? Once again, is the show flawless or even remotely coherent? Absolutely not. That being said Vee brought me so much joy by being stupid I'm forever grateful.

(also YinWar are so back GO WATCH JACK AND JOKER TRAILER)

8) Prapai from Love In The Air (2022)

To a certain extent I've enjoyed every MAME show I've watched. To do that you need to possess the rare ability called "I abandoned every shred of moral integrity to gawk at hot men". And Prapai? MAN is this bitch hot. Tall dark handsome? Check! Bisexual on a bike? Check! Stubborn and annoying? CHECK!

9) Xiang Hao Ting from HIStory3: Make Our Days Count (2019)

*incoherent wailing and sobbing* IM NOT EXPLAINING SHIT ABOUT HIM LEAVE ME ALONE

10) AlanJeff from Pit Babe (2023)

My newest obsession! I refuse to separate our local senior citizen and his favorite prophetic mechanic. Both of them are hot as shit in their own way. Alan is a sexy dilf with so much weight and responsibility on his shoulders it's a miracle he retained his optimism and youthful awkwardness. And Jeff is a prickly baby-cow-baby-deer eyed baby that is so touch starved it's actually a little funny. SO I GUESS ALANJEFF SANDWICH IT IS.

(don't be shy tag yourselves besties <3)

#tag game #bake me please #bake me please the series #not me #not me the series #never let me go #never let me go the series #my dear gangster oppa #my dear gangster oppa the series #moonlight chicken #history 3: make our days count #pit babe #pit babe the series #love mechanics #tonhon chonlatee #love in the air #love in the air the series #blacked out and tagged every show oops

[possibilistfanfiction]

Hey there! Just wanted to let you know that I love your writing. I love the universe you've created for ava and beatrice. I could have said Avatrice but the thing is you write them so beautifully as individuals, all their triumphs and losses, that it doesn't feel right not to acknowledge them as they are on their own as much as they are as a couple. Anyway! I pretty much have bookmarked all your work and I keep suggesting your fics on Twitter, I'm pretty much your unofficial publicist at this point, proudly so 😆

I just finished the multitude of loving and once again you made me laugh and smile and cry and you made my heart warm and for a while, my depression didn't feel as debilitating. So thank you. I don't know what you're gonna write next whenever inspiration strikes, but if you ever do another outside pov, would you mind writing one from Diego's? I guess I'm biased because aside from your fics, I've been obsessed with do a flip by sunsafe and it warms my heart to see Diego in fics because well, I think it's safe to say that he was the one who loved ava first, he was there by her bedside and all and so it would be lovely, to know how he feels and thinks about ava and beatrice, after all the years of living his own life, after all the years wishing to see his sister, his best friend, his... Ava, because there's no traditional title that really fits them, after all the years wishing that ava is okay and... Alive, more than just surviving because even when he was a child he knew, ava was meant for such a bright and grand life, just because she was all that herself.

Anyway, just an idea, of course. My rambling is not in any way meant to pressure you into writing it 😆😅 I hope you're having a good day wherever you are. Cheers!

[first of all i love do a flip!!!! 100/10 recommend if anyone hasn't read it!!

anyway, here's a little diego pov in the butch bea universe. he's like 18 or 19? idk. yknow just roll w it :) ]

//

university is busy as hell, and it's cool that they pay for your doctor's appointments and, when you actually started getting the care you needed, you were able to do basically everything in the normal, big wide world with regular meds and check-ins — but mostly you just want to play rugby and flirt with girls (not well, but you're 18 and always kind, so who cares your success rate) and pass all of your classes. when you got adopted it had seemed like a miracle, and so you don't take any of this time for granted — not the bright sun or the grass stains on your knees or how rachel plays with your hair when you hang out in her dorm.

you don't think much of it when you get a random email from beatrice gu-knight, partially because emails are a pain in the ass and partially because nico brought over a six pack of stellas and his nintendo switch — you're the mario kart champion, undisputed — but, in the morning, when you open your phone, you think your heart might stop in your chest.

Hello Diego,

I hope you're well. I know it might seem strange to get an email like this from someone you don't know and have never even heard of, and, if you don't wish to follow up or connect, please just let me know, and that will be the end of it.

But, in the hopeful chance that you do: my name is Beatrice (she/her), and I'm reaching out to you because Ava Silva is my life partner. We've been together for a few years now and she talks of you often, and fondly; I know from her stories you were an extraordinarily joyful and sustaining part of her life at St. Michael's, and, if nothing else, I hope you understand my deep gratitude for that. I work in tech, so I was able to find this email address for you in the hopes that you might want to reconnect with Ava. We live in Los Angeles, and she's, as I'm sure you remember, wonderful. Maybe even more wonderful now, as I hope you are too.

Again, if you are at all uncomfortable, please feel no pressure to engage in any way; I won't let Ava know, so don't worry about that. If you would like to reconnect, though, you can respond to this email, or call or text me at my cell listed below. Thank you.

Warmest regards,

Beatrice

it takes you a few seconds to get it together, because, what the fuck, first of all. second of all, ava — one of your favorite people ever, and someone you miss every day. who apparently has a very proper and seemingly kind partner named beatrice, and lives in california. ava is alive, and probably really happy. the last time you saw her she was scared and upset and you had thought she died before that. you had thought you would never see her again.

Hey, this is Diego, you text the number on Beatrice's email. you think about the time difference, and, sorry if it's the middle of the night for you

it takes a minute or two, but then your phone vibrates. Diego, wonderful to hear from you! I'm glad my email wasn't too intense.

and, like, maybe it was a little, but your calc III professor is a fucking nutcase, so you kind of have a high bar.

Ava works late sometimes, so don't worry about the time difference right now

it's sweet, you think, that beatrice doesn't work late, or, whatever, maybe she does, but she's up because ava is awake. because ava will be coming home, or finishing up in an office. you wonder about their life, what their home looks like and if ava's laugh is still just as awesome. and, like, what is ava's job? is she still paralyzed, or can she walk like she had the last time you saw her? you're glad for her, honestly, that her partner is a girl, because ava thought boys were hot but also seemed to like girls more — so, like, how did they fall in love? it's funny to imagine ava as a grownup, with a partner and a home and a whole life, but it's also the best.

do you want to facetime tomorrow or something, you text, because you don't really know what else to say, but you want to find out: about your sister, and the life she's apparently built. you think — if ava is anything like how she had been when you were younger — you definitely want to be in it.

I would love that, beatrice responds immediately. you work out the details and, eventually, you go to class and try to have a normal day. but ava is out there, happy, in california, with a partner who clearly cares about her. it feels like a gift, even to know. it feels like a gift, to get to be in her warmth again.

/

beatrice, when you answer the facetime call at exactly the second the clock hits 7 pm your time, is beautiful. it doesn't surprise you, not really, because you remember ava being pretty, and, even more than that, fucking awesome. beatrice is younger than what you think someone with that formal a name would be, with short dark hair that flops into her eyes, which are kind of gold in the light through the window of whatever room she's in. 'hello, diego,' she says, and, yeah, ava probably loves that accent.

it makes you laugh, but, like, in a nice way, to know that ava has a whole partner. a whole entire person who shares a life with her, who helps her with stuff and — beatrice is a saint for this — laughs at her puns.

'hey,' you say, feel awkward and a little sloppy in the face of the chic big oil painting behind her, the hoodie you know is expensive because your friend artur had had it marked on his stockx for, like, months now. 'uh, i'm diego. nice to meet you.'

beatrice smiles, and you see her freckles, and you realize, in a flash, a truth you know implicitly — that ava loves this person. ava picked this person to spend her life with. the world is cruel, you know better than most, but the world is also so, so kind.

'i'm so happy you responded to my email,' she says, less formal and with a slight laugh, mostly with joy. 'ava is the best, and i know that — she misses you. she loves you, a lot. i've always wanted to meet you.' you kind of don't know what to say, and you're relieved when she shakes her head. 'sorry, i'm being a lot again. believe it or not, this is my first rodeo with something like this.'

first rodeo sounds foreign from her, and it inexplicably makes you laugh. 'you're doing fine.' you realize that beatrice is just as nervous as you are, maybe even more: she loves ava. she has a whole life with ava. 'i — does ava want to talk to me?'

'i haven't told her yet. i wanted to see how you felt first, without any pressure, and i didn't want her to feel disappointed. but i know she will be... overjoyed, to have you in her life again, if you want.'

'yeah.' you think of ava's jokes and how full of life she was, even when she didn't have access to much of it herself. you think about the clumsy drawings you had made her, and how happy she was every time she got to go outside in her wheelchair. 'i do, want that. a lot.'

beatrice's smile is relieved and grateful. 'i can talk to her, then, and then maybe you two can set up a video chat? i know she'll be beside herself with excitement.'

'yeah,' you say, and you can't help but smile looking forward to it. it doesn't sound like ava's changed much, in the good ways, which is super cool. 'i'm excited too.'

/

your palms are clammy and you feel like you might throw up, but beatrice had sent you a link to a zoom and asked if the evening worked for you; you're so thrilled but also, like, what if ava doesn't like you anymore? what if she's way way cooler than you, or too grown up, or just bored by your life? it had been one thing, to lose her when you were young and confused, to have to grieve her absence so obliquely — but it would be an entirely different thing now, to know she's alive and has a life of her own and just doesn't want you in it. you don't really know how you would handle that. ava was your friend and ava was your sister, in the ways that really matter.

but, you realize very quickly, all of your anxiety was for nothing, because ava's face pops on screen — older, and her hair is shorter, and there are slight laugh lines settling into the skin around her eyes, but she mostly looks the same — and her smile is so warm and then she starts to cry and laugh and, yeah. if you do too, it's fine. no one else is in your dorm room anyway.

'hey,' she says, the first to get any words out. she's sitting up, and she waves, and you feel like you're seeing a real life miracle, right there on your computer screen. 'you look so old. i really missed you.'

'you look so old too.' she grins. 'i really missed you.'

it's a little stilted at first, probably because you're both overwhelmed, but then it's just... the fucking best. ava is a bartender, 'mostly for fun,' she says, which, whatever that means, and she still loves the beach. they apparently have a house right by the water. she starts crying again when you tell her you got adopted, that you're not so sick anymore because you have good doctors and caring parents, that you're in school to become an accountant.

'the family business?' she says, choked up, after you tell her that your adoptive mom is one too, and that she wanted you to be able to take over one day if you were interested.

it's as unbelievable to you some days as it seems to her, on bright mornings or when you get to go skiing in the cold snow, when your friends pass around a joint or when you get to go to a museum, whenever you want. 'yeah,' you say —  a family; you learn ava has one too. 'it's pretty incredible.'

/

'holy shit, ava.'

she just laughs, letting you go in front of her into her house. well, her and beatrice's house, you guess. you'd facetimed and texted a bunch with ava in the past two months, so you had figured out they were kinda loaded, and they'd both picked you up from the airport in a very sleek, fancy volvo, but, like —

'this is nuts.'

you think you might immediately cry again when you notice, right away, how there's not a single part of the house you can see that isn't accessible for someone in a wheelchair. ava had told you that she can walk but some days has a lot of pain and a hard time with mobility, and that beatrice was awesome and she had a good chair and even a van and a service dog, but you never could've imagined this. their house is huge and beautiful, like something you'd see in an AD tour you like to watch when you're stoned. ava has a cane today, and beatrice trundles in with your bag — she had insisted, quietly, but with a look that told you it would be totally pointless to argue.

'your house is awesome,' you say, to both of them.

beatrice smiles gently. 'we redid it last year, for accessibility. i think it turned out great.'

'wanna see the best part?' ava says, using her cane to bounce a little on the balls of her feet and you have to clear your throat because you had known her for so long. you had loved her for so long, your best friend in the entire world, who was smart and funny and bursting at the seams to feel it all, to really get to live.

'dude,' you say, 'of course.'

'i'm going to put your bag in your room,' beatrice says. 'and then i have a work call. but i should be done after the hour, for whatever you'd like to do, if you want me to join.'

'of course we want you to join,' ava says, and beatrice blushes and then gathers herself and kisses the top of ava's head before she offers you a thumbs up — nerdy, and it makes ava snort — and then lifts your bag like it weighs two pounds or something. 'love of my life,' ava says. 'definitely doesn't have a work call, but she's been stressed all week about making sure she gives us time to ourselves but doesn't seem aloof. huge weirdo.'

'she's hot.'

'ew, diego.'

you shrug. 'all i'm saying is that, like, i get it. not for me, because she's, like, super gay, but you know. for you.' you take a breath. 'sorry, i'm just excited.'

ava laughs. 'bea is super gay, it's true.' she points to a button on the wall nearby and then floor to ceiling glass doors that separate the living space from the patio. 'now, check this out.'

it's pretty fucking wild that ava went from the horrible orphanage, and tons of abuse that you were too small and too weak and too scared to stop, to a whole house that opens up to a day bed and an outdoor kitchen and dining area and a hot tub, a small patch of grass, and then the sea behind — but in the best kind of way. the kind of way that makes you want to tell everyone you meet that things can get better. that good things will happen to good people, at least sometimes. at least ava, who is the best of all of them.

ava motions for you to come with and walks outside, and then it's, like, genuinely the best thing ever when a black and white dog — korra, who ava sends you pictures of all the time and has featured in multiple zoom calls — who was napping in the sun, perks her head up and you swear she, like, dog-smiles at ava. 'hi, good girl,' ava says, and then claps her hands once and korra obediently, and happily, comes to ava's right side and sits, leans her little head against ava's thigh.

'i can't spend this entire time crying,' you say, and ava laughs. 'can i say hi?'

'of course,' she says. 'she's not usually formally working at home, unless i'm having a really bad day. which, you know, i'm not, but they do happen sometimes.' she shrugs and you kneel down in the sun and pet korra's soft ears as she nuzzles your face.

'she's so cool,' you say, and then kiss the top of her head and her nose. 'hey korra! i'm your uncle, i guess?'

'yeah! uncle diego.'

it makes you beam, to sit on the patio with ava as she shows you some of the tasks korra has been trained to do, and tells you about her bar you'll go to later, and points toward their outdoor shower with a sly smile. you do her the courtesy of fake gagging, although you really are just mostly happy for her, with her partner and her dog and a house that was built just for her.

eventually, beatrice comes outside, carrying a very intense charcuterie board. she places it down on the day bed, between you and ava, korra happily snoozing at your feet.

‘hi baby,’ ava says and scoots closer to you, then tugs on beatrice’s hand until she sits. ava kisses her temple. ‘this is very extravagant.’

‘well, we have a guest,’ beatrice says. ‘there’s wine inside, if you’d like a glass.’

‘i know nothing about wine,’ you admit, ‘but if there’s one you think… pairs? well with, you know —‘ you gesture to the elegantly laid out spread of food in front of you — ‘then i’ll trust you and go with that.’

ava grins. ‘yes, beatrice. be our resident sommelier, please.’

beatrice rolls her eyes, again with a blush, but then stands, ignoring ava’s pout. ‘i’ll be right back.’

‘she’s, like, really nice.’

ava lays back with a grin. ‘well she’s on her i was raised by diplomats and nannies most proper behavior right now. i don’t get charcuterie boards like this… ever.’ she takes a bite of cheese. ‘but bea is wonderful. she’s brilliant and funny and so, so kind. she’ll loosen up. i’m really excited you get to spend time with her.’

‘i’m thankful she reached out. i — i’m so happy to be here, and to see you.’

‘me too, my dude.’

beatrice comes back out with fancy real crystal glasses and a bottle of wine she explains is a vintage napa chardonnay, which mostly just makes you think it’s expensive. it probably is, with the way she efficiently uncorks it — ava practically drools, annoying, and you elbow her in the ribs — but it’s, like, really good. at least compared to the cheap wine you sometimes have with your friends when you order greek food.

‘diego,’ beatrice says, measured and anxious and, if ava’s stupid expression is anything to go by, endearing, ‘as you know, i like to surf. although it’s quite early, i was wondering if you might like to join me tomorrow? one of my best friends is an excellent instructor and the wave report looks ideally calm. ava thought you might be interested, if you’d like to learn?’

‘yeah,’ you say. ‘of course. that sounds sick.’

beatrice grins, relaxing a little. ava squeezes her hand. ‘i find it quite fun. it can be hard at first, but it’s nice to be in the water.’

‘diego gets his astounding athletic ability from my side of the family,’ ava says, patting you on the knee.

‘your side of the family?’ beatrice arches a brow.

‘yeah, the orphan side,’ you say, an old joke coming back to you, and ava gives you a high five.

‘i —‘

‘don’t think about it too hard, beatrice. diego also gets his bisexuality from my side of the family too.’

‘now that i’m willing to believe.’

ava winks at you, and then settles back into beatrice’s side.

/

admittedly, you're exhausted, so the mezcal margarita — smoky and just the right amount of sour — is hitting harder than you thought.

'okay,' ava says, 'boys are easy to flirt with.'

beatrice rolls her eyes.

'they are, bea,' she insists, then looks to you. 'sorry, diego, but boys are just... simple. they see someone hot, especially me, and there's, like, no thoughts.'

you think of the way luis had kissed you one night at a party — with his strong hands and his strong jaw and the rough, delicious scratch of his beard — after you'd just offered him a drink politely, so. honestly, that tracks.

'girls, though, diego.'

you laugh.

'you know, people who aren't men.'

'yeah, of course.'

'difficult. i just — whew.'

'aren't you, like, basically married?'

'well, yes, we're domestic partners. but beatrice is horrible at flirting. she's just lucky she's brilliant, and beautiful, and handsome, and funny.'

beatrice rolls her eyes again, although a blush spreads across her cheeks. 'i think i have more women try to flirt with me than you.'

ava huffs. 'that's because you're just — ugh.' she turns toward you. 'bea has grown into being a lesbian magnet. i once was superior. plus, boys flirt with me too.' she claps you on the back. 'either way, between the two of us, we'll teach you everything you need to know.'

'they won't,' one of their friends says, sliding in next to beatrice, who smiles and kisses him on the cheek. he's maybe the hottest person you've ever seen, with tattoos down both arms and a neat fade, probably a few years older than beatrice. 'i'm keiko,' he says, and offers his hand. his handshake is so strong and you feel yourself blush. 'i own the dojo beatrice goes to.'

'my favorite sparring partner,' beatrice says. 'partially because i have never lost.'

keiko waves her off.

'uh, i'm diego.'

ava laughs, delightedly, at how flustered you clearly are.

'well, if you want advice on boys, i am quite successful.'

'i'm sure you are.'

ava gives you a high five, mortifyingly. 'that's my man.'

'i'm cutting both of you off,' beatrice says.

'one shot, bea, please. come on. all we have to do is walk home.'

beatrice sighs dramatically and runs a hand through her hair, and keiko nudges her in the shoulder. 'for once in your life, beatrice, have a little fun.'

it takes a moment, but she laughs. 'fine. one shot, and then home.'

/

you surf the next morning, early as fuck, but you’re kind of jetlagged anyway and it’s really beautiful to watch the sunrise while you rest on a board. you haven’t popped up and you got tired pretty fast, but beatrice’s friend, ray — and beatrice herself, obviously — are patient and relaxed and don’t seem to care at all.  ava wanders out eventually, setting out a towel and drinking a to-go cup of coffee. she waves happily and blows a kiss in beatrice’s direction, who blushes. it had made you laugh, quietly, when she had put a special bucket hat designed for surfing on after she situated her wetsuit.

‘i don’t want to get sunburned,’ she explained, and then handed you a bottle of spf 100 sunscreen and a zinc stick.

eventually you ride a wave in on your knees, laughing, and then go sit by ava while you watch ray and beatrice and the rest of their little crew surf the next set, bigger on the outer break. you can tell beatrice shows off, for ava and, maybe a bit, for you. it's still early, and ava's happy to sit back in the easy quiet.

'hey,' you say after a while, during a break in sets, 'so, beatrice introduced me this morning as "ava's little brother".'

she turns to you, studies your features carefully, just like she always would when you were in the orphanage, trying to pay close attention. 'did that feel okay?'

'other than the fact that i'm taller than you —'

'— hey —'

'— of course,' you say. 'i love being your brother.'

ava scoots closer to you and bumps your shoulder with hers; you have your wetsuit down around your waist and she has one of beatrice's hoodies on, but you've mostly dried off by this point so you put your arm around her shoulders and tug her to you.

'do you, uh. sister? sibling?'

ava smiles. 'either is great.'

'okay.'

'thanks, diego.'

'nothing to thank me for there. i should be thanking you, honestly. all expenses paid trip to a bougie beach house in california to see someone i've missed so much? the dream.'

she sniffles. you don't know all the details but you know ava has been through some real shit after she — came back to life, you guess? 'i missed you too, so so much.' she clears her throat and wipes under her eyes. 'in the spirit of being your cool older sibling, what mild to moderately wild things do you want to do here. i don't want your parents to be mad at me so consider wisely.'

'tattoo.'

'do you have anything planned that you would want?'

'well, no.'

ava laughs.

'what? beatrice has cool tattoos.'

'she is a staunch believer that you should plan your tattoos in advance. but think of something and then next time we'll get you all set up with her artist, if you want.'

there's a level of maturity and care that's a little unexpected but, like, really cool? really nice. it's kind of weird and makes you a bit emotional, because ava is grown up. she's still an idiot, and constantly annoying, and very funny — but she's gotten to get older, and so have you.

'we could dye our hair,' she says, shrugging. 'easy to rectify, if it's a disaster.'

'i'm so in, man.' your hair is darker than hers, and you have no idea if she knows what she's doing, but you trust beatrice — with her neat hair and neat house and neat clothes and seemingly undying love for ava — to monitor the situation.

'maybe we can do the bi flag.'

it makes you laugh, imagining how silly it would look. 'what about just purple? like, a light purple situation.'

'i've done that before,' she tells you excitedly. 'loved it. definitely time to return.'

'deal. also, i want to try california weed.'

ava grins. 'we would have let you last night, you know, but you were actively falling asleep at the bar after one cocktail.'

'it's the time difference, i swear.'

'sure it is.'

'well, bea loves her edibles. she's very particular about them. i'm... much less particular about joints, but we can start off chill. maybe this afternoon. and then we can have tacos.'

'that sounds like a perfect day.'

she smiles. 'yeah,' she says. 'even more perfect because i get to share it with you.'

'gross,' you say, although you might suddenly cry. 'sappy.'

'yeah, yeah. whatever.'

you keep your arm around ava's shoulders and watch beatrice and ray trade tricks the next set, and then they both call it and walk, laughing, toward you. ava struggles to stand with a frown, and you offer your arm for her to take if she wants. she does, smiles quickly in thanks and then, you know too, moves on without a word. she kisses beatrice soundly on the mouth, then pushes her goofy bucket hat off her head, fastened around her neck and resting on the back of her shoulders, and then gratuitously unzips her wetsuit while ray rolls her eyes.

it's a whole big world, you learn more and more every day. ray joins you for breakfast and then ava takes you shopping while you're pretty sure beatrice just naps. ava uses her chair and brings korra, which is mostly just the coolest thing in the world to you, because she has a whole van customized too, and she just — you had known, when you were younger, when ava would get to go outside in her chair, that nothing was limiting her other than care, and access. you had been limited too, and you ached with it. you ache differently now, because ava navigates her day fully and independently: a wheelchair lift for the stairs, and a huge, beautiful closet and kitchen where she can reach everything without having to stand, and korra, who can turn on lights and open doors and brings you a juice from the fridge when you sit down and mention you're thirsty; ava grins with the command and then praises korra, and you scratch her soft head and even softer ears.

beatrice does supervise when you and ava dye your hair, but ava mostly knows what she's doing, and really gets distracted the most when she looks over at beatrice in lowslung joggers and a cutoff tank and a beanie, leaning against the doorframe quietly, a fond expression on her face. ava wears crop tops and wideleg pants and expensive sneakers and you both end up laughing when you have your matching lavender hair.

you eat edibles that make everything feel lush and slow and perfect, and beatrice laughs softly at ava's ramble about her arms, and she orders a ton of her favorite chinese food that you eat on the patio at sunset. you take some pictures on your film camera, at sunset, and beatrice takes a few of you and ava. you wish you could go back in time and tell both of you, when you were small and sad and scared and abused, that things would be this beautiful one day. that things would be this good.

ava and beatrice eventually say goodnight before they head inside to their bedroom. there's too much light pollution in los angeles to see many of the stars, but you know they're there all the same.

#wn #warrior nun fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #butch bea 🥺🫡 #they just get to have such a good life #diego is just like ... wow ... !! ava is so stupid. i love her so much