#so i can just drop them without any hard feelings or end them on peaceful terms

[sp0o0kylights]

Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds. 

Still.

 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 

Nope. 

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 

Likely a lot of things. 

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 

Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 

“I did.” 

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 

Wayne took advantage. 

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 

“‘Bout trust.” 

Eddie blinked at that. 

“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 

Wayne sat with him as he processed. 

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 

“What if he finds out?”  

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 

It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’ 

“He won’t.” Wayne said. 

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 

Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 

Wayne rolled his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 

“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

#small town rumors #this is the first part of chapter two #I will post all parts of chapter two once im done fighting through it lol #steddie #or pre steddie #where I exist as a person #best dad wayne munson #wayne pov #did I say this entire chapter was going to be eddies pov bc haha I lied #outsider pov #s3 au #hurt/comfort #enemies to lovers but like softish enemies to lovers as in Eddies not caring a whole lot that Steves hurt....yet #beat to shit steve harrington #0o0 fanfics #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #Eddies out here ready to face down snotty af rich boy king steve #keeps working himself up so much he forgets how badly off Steve is lol #dont worry his munson doctrine goes to shit later #mostly bc Eddie thinks steve stuck his nose where he shouldnt have and finally got what he deserved lmao

[hangmanssunnies]

Inconceivable!

Summary: No one tells you how hard it is to have to plan to leave and hurt the love of your life. However, when you know you want different things, you must choose. And your baby is probably the only thing you can ever imagine choosing over Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw.

Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem! Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick 

Word count: 8.2k words

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, fertility problems, panic attacks, Angst with a happy ending, threatening to break Brad's heart, so many references to The Princess Bride,Soft!smut, Soft!Bradley, Organized!Bradley. Let me know if I missed any others.

Authors Note: No use of Y/N. As always, I love BradBrad so much y'all. I don't know if I can write nonangsty smut. I was thinking of him and kids. The next thing you know I wrote whatever this is. Bradley wearing glasses 🥵. I hope you enjoy this! My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are always appreciated as well! I love reading through them.

You knew Bradley never wanted to be a father, which was just fine with you because you knew you couldn't have kids. You had known about your fertility problems for a long time and had long ago come to peace with it. 

Y'all had several conversations about children when you first started dating. Once you both felt like your feelings on the matter were hashed out, you had never really felt like revisiting the topic. Your life wasn't less or empty without kids. You were perfectly content with the life you and Rooster had made together. 

That's why you have no idea what to do with the situation you are in right now. You were at your gynecologist for your annual check-up. Taking a pregnancy test was standard procedure, something you didn't even bat your eyes about or worry over. What you weren't prepared for was the positive results back. 

"I'm sorry?" You choked out in disbelief. "That can't be possible."

"I know this is probably surprising, but," your doctor starts to say before you cut them off. 

"No. No, I have known since I was 17 that I can't get pregnant."

"Well, you are and can. Sometimes miracles like this can happen," your doctor responded kindly. 

She went on to ramble more and talk about some next steps and options. You felt shocked, not entirely sure how to process the information she was throwing your way. You left the office a bit later, promising to set up a follow-up appointment. 

Your first thought was to get an abortion. It was the obvious solution. Bradley didn't want kids, and you hadn't wanted them either. Right? You tried to think if it was true. Was it that you didn't want kids or just that you couldn't have kids? 

For the next week, you tried to run the pros and cons and sort out your feelings on what was happening. You tried to act as normal as possible with Bradley. You didn't want to bring anything up until you knew how you felt.

Part of you kept coming back to when you were a little girl to how growing up before you knew that you couldn't have kids, the promise you would whisper to yourself. The promise of how you would do better than your own parents did. 

You thought of the fantasies you used to have: the baby shoes, baking in the kitchen guiding a tiny pair of hands, sports practices, matching sweaters for family holiday cards, first recitals, proms and homecomings, dropping them off for their first day of college, and parent's weekends where you buy cheap booze, family trips, the possibilities of grandkids. 

Now suddenly, all those fantasies were a possibility again. A reality that could come true in less than a year. Thinking about them brought an ache to your chest. An ache that manifested as want, a desire so strong all the cons you could come up with didn't really matter, well, all of them but one. 

The biggest problem of the puzzle was Bradley, the love of your life. You had absolutely no doubt that he would do the right thing and stay by your side. However, you didn't want him to be a dad because he had to do it. The thought of him being forced to do something he didn't want to, just because it's the right thing, made your stomach roll. The idea of part of him resenting you, and eventually your child too, because of something you chose. That was something you couldn't live with. 

So even though you felt a heavy hurt in your chest, you knew you had to leave Bradley. You weighed that heartbreak compared to the want for this child that had bloomed in your chest, and one outweighed the other. So now, on top of thinking about the baby, you started to think through quiet plans of how it would hurt your husband least to leave him. 

You almost broke down one night and told him the two of you had been lying on the couch together. Bradley was casually spooning you from behind, one of his hands playing with a lock of hair while the movie he picked played on the TV. Of course, it was the Princess Bride, one of his all-time favorites. 

You were half watching the movie, half dozing. Bradley was too good at soothing you, and you had started noticing a significant change in your energy levels as of late. You mentally made a note to bring it up at the follow-up doctor's appointment you had scheduled. 

"I would do that," Bradley suddenly says, bringing you back to alertness. 

"Oh really?" you hum, unsure what he was talking about. 

"Yes, I would wait five years and chase after kidnappers, fight the prince, build a tolerance to poison, all for you, baby." 

Bradley's honest love for you warmed your chest like it always did. However, the current circumstances turned that warmth into a bitter aftertaste in the back of your throat. What you were doing haunted you. His hand drops your hair and traces down your arm until he threads your fingers together. His large hand in yours helped further break down your resolve. 

"What if I asked you to do something you didn't want to?" You ask him hesitantly. 

"If you wanted me to, then I would," Brad tells you plainly. As if that were a given, you should just expect that his desires would line up with yours. It doesn't put you at ease like you were hoping it would. 

"What if it was something you really didn't want to. Something bigger than sword fights and rodents of unusual size?" 

His hand flexes squeezing yours a little tighter. Bradley doesn't say anything for a moment, and you wait with bated breath. Finally, he nuzzles your neck with his nose before asking, "Do you have something specific in mind?" 

That was the moment, the moment that you could come clean to him. You could be honest and lay it all out on the table, but you don't. You can't. You aren't ready to let him go yet; it's too soon, you tell yourself. 

So you lie to him, finally pushing the words out your throat, "No, nothing specific. Just asking." 

Bradley's fingers that are laced with yours squeeze yours again, and you have the sneaking suspicion that he doesn't believe your lie. "Well, even if it was big. We would do what we always do. We'll talk about it and figure it out. Then I'll agree with what you want, just like I always do."

"You shouldn't do things you don't want to do just for me, Brad," you chastise him lightly. The heavy pit in your chest constricts even more. 

He kisses your head, pulling you a little tighter against him in his embrace. "Sure, whatever you say, babe." 

The whole thing sits with you for another week, and the doctor's appointment you made starts to creep closer. You are reading an article in incognito mode on your phone about nutrition during pregnancy and the importance of vitamins. Occasionally, you glance up to see Bradley sitting on the other side of the couch. 

He has a thick World War Two biography book wide open, nearing the end. His reading glasses are perched on the edge of his nose. Even though you had teased Brad relentlessly when he first got them, the glasses were actually really hot. The sight of them on him now makes heat start to bud in the bottom of your abdomen. 

You lock your phone and set it aside, looking more thoroughly at Bradley now. He was so so very handsome. You found it unlikely there would ever be another man you would allow into your bed after him. The edges of panic that seep into you every time you consider the inevitable end with Bradley makes a reappearance. You push it to the side as much as possible, but it creates a sudden desperation for him in you. 

"Bradley."

"Yes, my love?" He asks, not looking up from the page in front of him. 

"I need something."

"What do you need?" He turns the page of his book and pushes those damn glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. 

"I need you," you tell him, biting your lip. 

His eyes snap up from the page to look at you, and his eyebrows raise, processing your words. "What was that?"

"I need you to make love to me, Brad. I'm on fire." 

He dog ears the page he is on his book and sets it on the coffee table, turning to give you his full attention. His hands casually trace up your leg, massaging the tense muscles of your claves. 

You let out a soft sigh at the feeling. A few moments later, Bradley crawls up your body, pressing soft kisses to your neck and then melding his lips to yours. You sigh into his mouth, enjoying the taste of him, trying to savor it. You pull off his reading glasses so they aren't in the way, haphazardly tossing them away. 

When he starts to pull away, you wrap your arms around him, drawing him closer, not wanting any space between you. You trace one of your hands down his neck and under the collar of his shirt, tracing his shoulders, kissing him harder, slipping your tongue into his mouth. 

"What has got you so needy, sweet girl?" He asks you, confused, pressing a few soft sweet kisses to your throat.

"Just you, handsome man," you tell him, trying to draw Bradley back to your lips. Bradley smiles, hearing your words but then shifts off you and the couch. 

Before you can protest at his absence, he goes to pick you up. Like every time Bradley picks you up, you are hit with the worry that it will be the time he can't do it, or he will drop you, make heaving grunting sounds, or some other terrible mishap will come to pass. It doesn't, though; he secures you in his arms and starts to carry you through the house to your room. 

You start pressing kisses to the readily presented column of his neck then. When he reaches your bed and goes to put you down, you sink your teeth into the space where his neck starts to curve into his shoulder. Although he lets out a hiss, you hadn't held back with the bite. You made it intending to mark him. 

When he does set you down, you scramble hurriedly to start undressing him, desperate to see and feel the expanses of his golden skin. Unfortunately, you only get Brad out of his teeshirt before he stops you. His large hands close around your wrists, holding them tight, preventing them from moving further down, lower than the top of his abdomen. 

"Slow down, pretty girl. We got all the time in the world," he says. You know, he said it to be soothing, but he didn't know how wrong he was. He didn't understand the finite amount of time you had left together. 

So when he lets go of your wrist, you instead start to pull off your own clothes and settle yourself on the bed. You stare at him expectantly and let out the smallest huff. 

"Slow down." He tells you again, "And, don't move your hands off the headboard," When he is satisfied with how you are holding it, he starts to kiss down your body. 

"Why are you so worried?" he breaths out against your inner thigh, pressing feather-light kisses to the skin there. "You know I'm going to take care of you, my love. I always do. There's no reason to be so worried."

Bradley's words manage to hit the exact spot of comfort you are actually needing. Even though you are planning on leaving him. You still want him to take care of you; you want to do this with him. But, you also know that can't happen. So, regardless you feel more at ease; the desperation in you is not quite so hot, not making you jittery with need. 

Bradley rewards the way your body relaxes by licking stripe over you. You resist the urge to let go of the headboard and bury your hands in Bradley's thick hair. The way he sucks your clit into his mouth to roll his tongue over makes you arch, needing more. Bradley lays his arm across your hips, applying pressure to keep you still under him. 

The more you work to struggle against his arm, feeling your high edge closer and closer, a thought suddenly pops into your head. Is it still okay for Bradley to hold you down like this? Are you going to hurt your baby? It's an irrational thought, you know that, but your body instantly reacts to it. Of course, so early into your pregnancy, there is no reason this would be a problem, but you still drop your hips down onto the bed, no longer trying to move them against him. Your distraction pulled you far back from the edge. 

You try to focus on the feel of Bradley's tongue and how warm he feels with his shoulders caged between your thighs. But only a few breaths later, Bradley is lifting his head to look at you. 

He has a crease between his eyebrows, and his tongue that was just around you darts out to lick to own lips. "What just stopped you from coming?" he asks, concerned. His voice is thick and low. His hold over your waist disappears as he draws soothing circles on your hip. Bradley's concern draws you back to him and into the want you have for him. 

You let go of the headboard and stretch out your arms. Then, burying your hands in his hair, you tilt Brad's face to fully meet your eyes. 

"Make love to me, Bradley," you beg him. He stares at you for a very long minute, and you stare back at him, waiting. Finally, he pulls his eyes away from yours and stares at your center in front of him. 

"As you wish," he mutters the words. Rooster pulls himself off the bed and pulls his sweats off. You drag your eyes over his naked body, taking him all in. You lick your lips at the sight. 

"You are breathtaking, Brad," you tell him. That smile that melts your heart shows up on his face, and he glows under your praise.  

You crawl to the edge of the bed and trace your hands up his muscular thighs. You guide your hand upwards. You brush over his cock, not really giving it any attention, before outlining his side, watching his stomach and abs contract under your fingers. You go slowly, trying to memorize the feel of his skin under you. You kiss along his chest too. 

He leans down and captures your lips. You kiss Rooster back, glad that the fervor has left your body, but you are no less desperate for him. The desire to memorize him doesn't go. 

You urge him onto the bed, pushing him on his back. You straddle Bradley, settling over him, with his cock nestled in between your lower lips. You give a small rock, his head bumping into your clit. You moan a little and repeat the motion. 

Leaning forward, you rest your hands on his chest to give you more leverage. Rooster moves his hips with you increasing the friction. The pace is slow and almost teasing for both of you. 

Shifting your weight, you lean and kiss him again. Bradley's tongue slips into your mouth, running against yours. One of his hands comes up and rests on your hip, urging you, pulling you further down to rub against him harder. His other hand cups one of your breasts, his thumb running over your nipple in swirling strokes. 

You break his embrace just to reach your hand and guide him inside. Bradley lets out a heavy sigh as he slips into you. You resist the urge to slide all the way down his length, keeping it slow. 

"Fuck, you feel so good," he tells you, biting his lips. 

"Love how you fill me, Brad," you sigh once he is fully hilted. Both of you are breathing more elevated. When you start to move your hips again, Bradley closes his eyes and presses his head back into the bed. 

You immediately stop moving, glaring down at him. "No," you say, and his eyes open instantly, looking at you again. You reach up a hand to grip his chin affectionately, holding his face in place. "I need to see you." 

"You are so beautiful," he tells you. Bradley does as you want and doesn't break eye contact again. 

The room is filled with both of your moanings as you work together at a slow, steady pace. The way his hands run along your skin and back is almost reverent. The heat in you starts to build again. You grind down hard onto Bradley so that your clit gets more stimulation. 

Rooster's right hand comes around and settles on your lower stomach, applying pressure and letting his thumb dip down to brush your clit in light strokes. You gasp, a moan breaking from your throat. You freeze on top of Bradley's cock, enjoying the zing his thumb just sent up your spine. 

"That's right. So good." Bradley moans out, pressing his thumb harder into you. Even though he is filling you so deliciously, you don't feel close enough to him. You feel like you want to crawl into his skin. That would be the only thing that would satisfy your need for him. 

You grab his hand that isn't on your clit and thread your fingers together. His hand grips yours back. Bradley doesn't make any movement to shift either of your hips, content to play with your clit and stare into your eyes. 

"Fuck, I love you." Bradley groans out, biting his lower lip. You start to rock your hips into his again, but for the most part, keeping him fully hilted inside you. You almost feel like you are drowning in his eyes with how he looks up at you. His heavy-lidded gaze makes you clench around him.

Your moans and quiet pants mix with his. The tension in you grows as you swirl your hips into his. 

"Need this, need you." Bradley swirls his thumb a little harder and does break eye contact to nip your neck, sitting more up on the bed to get a better angle. Having more of your skin pressed together helps ease more of the ache in you. 

You grip his hair again, pulling him up, shifting, so you are chest to chest. Bradley's free hand clutches you close to him. You trace the scars on his cheek with your lips before kissing him again. 

"I love you," you sigh against his mouth. He groans and rocks his hips into yours, creating a bit more friction. Rooster understands just what you need, not pulling out of you. 

The two of you build a rhythm together; finally, you can't hold back anymore. The bubble in you bursts, and you clench hard around Bradey's cock. Bradley takes a few more gasping breaths and then cums in you with a low moan. Bradley starts to move like he is going to pull out of you, so you whine and hold him closer.  

"No, no. I need you closer," you tell him. You are still desperate to have him near. You press your nose into Rooster's neck, breathing in his natural musky scent. Trying to absorb the smell entirely, memorizing it before biting the skin and tasting it. 

"Woah. Woah," Bradley says breathily. You let out a low hum in response, trying to savor his sounds as well. You wiggle your hips against him again, where he is still half hard. You consciously clench around his dick, reminding yourself how full Bradley makes you. 

"Baby, stop," he says. Rooster's voice is wrecked, and his large hands hold your hips still. At first, you don't even hear his request until he repeats it more forcefully. Then he rolls you over onto your back and pulls out of you quickly. You gasp at the sudden loss of him. You have to lay there for a moment, trying to reorient yourself. Bradley is sitting on the edge of the bed, panting hard, his hands on his knees.

"Bradley?" You croak out, reaching a hand hesitantly towards him. He looks back at you, and his face is a mix of panicked and furious.

"What the fuck was that?" He asks you in a low growl.

"What was what?"

"Don't bullshit me."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," you tell him, drawing your eyebrows close together.

"That was was goodbye sex," he says slowly. Your mouth drops open, and you try to reach around your rattling brain to come up with an answer, an excuse. However, you find it completely empty. 

"That was the exact kind of sex we have before I leave and deploy. You had the same look." Bradley was almost shaking, and you had no idea what to say that wouldn't be a lie. 

"What's going on? Something has been wrong for weeks. I keep waiting for you to talk to me, and you fucking haven't." 

"I —" you start to say, but Bradley's eyes are so captivating, so genuine, you can't lie to him. So before you even know what you are saying, the words fall out of your mouth, "I'm leaving."

Rooster physically recoils at your words. The line of his back is taut, and his eyebrows draw together. His mouth presses into a tight line. His jaw flexing, and you can tell he is clenching his teeth. "What did I do wrong?"

"No, sweetie," you say quickly. "It's not you. It's me." You tell him gently. It was you, well, you and this baby, but Brad didn't need to know that. Your words only seemed to make him more upset. 

"Are you kidding me? You didn't just say that." He mutters it under his breath, pulling at his short curls in frustration and glaring at you. He is so tense the veins in his bicep and neck start to pop. 

"I'm sorry," you offer him quietly. 

"I don't want to hear sorry. I want to hear a reason. Were you going to tell me? Or just planning to disappear?"

"Of course, I was going to tell you."

"When?" 

"Soon."

"Why? "

"I can't..."

"No. I think I deserve to know why the love of my life is leaving me," Bradley says, frustrated. He stands up from bed, goes to his drawers, and pulls on some boxers to throw on. He also grabs one of his old Sigma Pi shirts out of his drawer and throws it for you to shrug on. 

You felt shame and frustration building in you. You didn't want to deal with this situation right now. You didn't want to have to tell Bradley why. Then to your absolute horror, and probably the hormones coursing through you, you burst into tears. 

Bradley's pacing halts for a moment at the sight of your tears, but then he resumes momentarily as he balls his fist tight. His knuckles turning a paler shade. 

"We want different things." You gasp out between the sobs racking your body. 

"We want different things," he repeats slowly, like he is trying to piece out some hidden meaning in the words.

"Yes," you hiccup nodding your head. 

"How could that be possible?" He questions you sharply. "If that were the case, we wouldn't have gotten married. And you didn't mention anything when we had our last relationship check-in."

Bradley was big on communication. He insisted y'all have seasonal relationship check-ins with each other to talk about anything that had happened and how you were feeling about your relationship. This conversation should have probably been reserved for the next one, but you couldn't wait a few more weeks before leaving, or Bradley would know.

You were going to start showing at some point; while all the articles you read were inconsistent about when that might happen, it would happen eventually. You knew it would probably be impossible to leave Rooster if he knew that you were pregnant. Every moment with him weakened your resolve to do the right thing. 

"Things change, people change." You weakly tell him. Not able to conceive a better excuse. 

"I don't understand why you are jumping into leaving me. Baby, why won't you talk to me?" Bradley suddenly dropped hard to his knees on the wood floor at the side of the bed. You winced at the sound it made. He pulls one of your hands into both of his. "Please talk to me," he begs you, holding your hand delicately in his. The puppy dog look Bradley has mastered coming out in full force. 

"I can't…"

"You can," he reassures you, swiping a thumb across your pulse point. You felt your stomach roll, the emotions in you going haywire. 

"I'm…" you trail off and then shake your head at him in denial of this situation. As soon as you tell Bradley, it will be over. 

"It's okay, baby. Anything. You can tell me anything. Talk to me. I won't be mad," he adds on for your benefit. Your plans all crumbled at that moment because how can you deny Bradley Bradshaw anything when he begs for it. 

"I'm pregnant," you finally whisper in a barely audible voice. With how Bradley reacted to your words, you might as well have screamed them. First, he flinches like a whole body flinch. Every muscle you can see tensing. He shutters and his grip on your hand tightens to where it is almost painful.  

Bradley freezes like that for a moment, blinking at you owlishly, before he drops his head down, hiding his face from your view. Finally, he presses his face down into the bed. 

You wait with bated breath. Rooster's grip on your hand didn't lessen in the slightest. You feel panic settle in the back of your throat when his shoulders start to tremble, and he still hasn't said anything.

"Bradley?" You flex your hand, resisting his tight grip, and he releases you. His hands fall limply on the bed. He still hasn't looked at you, though. 

Tears start to streak down your face faster, and a small sob hitches in your throat. "I am sorry," you tell him sincerely. 

"Are you really?" His low voice asks muffled. 

"Sorry, or pregnant?" You ask pulling up the collar of his shirt you are wearing to wipe away some of your tears. "Because it's both." 

His hands come to clasp themselves together, and you briefly wonder if he is praying. The shaking of his shoulders and the inability to see his face make it increasingly impossible to understand his reaction.

Finally, he looks at you, and those hazel eyes bleed back at you, tears still falling down his face staining his cheeks a bright red even through the healthy tan he has right now. Bradley's eyes trace over your face looking like he is searching for any trace of a lie. Then he examines your body under his shirt like he might already see a difference. 

As if there was a difference, he would be able to notice now that he didn't notice before when you were naked, and he was inside of you. You wrap your arms around your chest, hugging yourself under his scrutiny. 

"I'm going to keep it." You finally tell him now that Bradley's shining eyes are available for scrutiny again. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his face falls into a frown. "I'm sorry," you say again. 

You try to think of the right words to explain yourself to him. "When I found out, I realized I wanted this. I know we always said we didn't. But I really want this baby, Bradley. I am sorry I kept it from you. I just didn't know how to tell you. And then I saw these baby shoes in the store. They were so cute." Your fingers knot into the edge of the worn frat shirt you are wearing. His hazel eyes aren't giving you much to go off of. They are still darting around your face like he is trying to figure out what you are telling him. 

Brad abruptly stands up in the middle of your rambling. So, you halt your words. Watching him as he walks out of the room. You strain your ears, trying to listen to where he went. You hear the hallway door open and beeps coming from the safe. After hearing it click open and seal again, Bradley's feet can be heard on the hallway floor again. 

Your mind runs, trying to think of what he could have grabbed from the safe. Your important documents? You silently make a note that was something that you need to be sure to pack. You wouldn't want to come back to Bradley to get your passport or something after leaving. Could it be money? Was he going to give you money to leave with and give you some of the cash you two had been saving to move? 

The thoughts make breathing extra hard, and you start to suck air in and out rapidly. The panic floods your veins, making the walls of the room shrink inward towards you. Sharp tingles prick at your fingertips and toes. 

Before you can run through any other possible scenario, he gets back. 

You can't focus on Bradley enough to see him through the black that starts to edge in at the corner of your vision. You desperately try to pull a gasping breath in your chest. The action of breathing is suddenly too overwhelming. 

The panic of what you had just done finally cutting into you. That Bradley now knew the secrets you had been harboring so close to your chest. There is wringing in your ears, the shuddering wracking your body. You curl into yourself to try and shield yourself from the hurt and panic ringing through your body. 

Then, you are engulfed. There isn't enough weight on the outside of you to combat the storm of panic that was trying to burst out from the inside of your veins. Numbness fills your body, and you know you are close to passing out. The storm brewed inside you, desperate to escape your body, desperate to take you out at the same time. 

Heaving in breaths gets harder and more difficult. You dig your nails hard into the skin of your thighs, trying to scramble for anything to steady yourself. Fighting each desperate moment when there is s shift.

At first, you don't know what has changed. However, your breaths get a gasp longer, allowing slightly more oxygen, and the black in your vision starts to recede. You slam your eyes shut at the nausea you feel. The more air you can finally take in, the more you are allowed to start making sense of anything besides your own haywire body. 

You are wrapped in your weighted blanket, and the extra pressure is aided by Bradley. He is holding you tight within his arms and legs, and he has you pulled close to his chest.

His legs are wrapped around your hips and crossed in front of you. Giving the front of your body room. Your legs are trapped between you two. One of his arms is crossed over your chest, and the other is petting your head soothingly, playing with your hair occasionally. 

Bradley is humming to you. You try and focus on the tune. It's like a lifeline; you cling to the sound, letting it help your thoughts trail away from your panic. You keep trying to breathe bigger, longer breaths consciously now. 

It's a tune you have heard before. Finally, Bradley breaks from the humming, whispering one of the lyrics into your ear, and you can immediately place the song. 

"Love of my life," he mutters lowly into your ear, and then he returns to his humming. You are flashed back to a different time he sang this song to you. 

He had been perched on the bench of a piano. Fingers gliding over the keys in time, his sweet voice dipping between octaves. It was Love Of My Life, by Queen. It is the song Bradley sings to you before every single deployment. 

The song feels like a confirmation that you two will not be making it. A confirmation he is letting you go. This is the song that always fills the space between you when parting ways. The small semblance of recovery you had made is gone. Your breaths start to quicken again as you are dragged back into the panic. 

Bradley's arms flex hard, and there is slightly more pressure around you. The beads of the weighted blanket shifting under his hands. He continues humming the song, but this time he peppers in a few more of the lyrics. 

"Love of my life, don't leave me," he croons softly into your ear. 

You don't know how long Bradley holds you waiting for you to calm down. You don't ever feel at ease, but the slow breaths and Bradley's soothing voice help bring you down from the high and worst of the panic attack.  

You manage to let out a little whimper, and Bradley's arms start to loosen around you in slow intervals. You turn your face to the side, slotting your eyes up to catch a glimpse of him. Bradley has his eyes closed, and his face is splotchy and red from crying still. You fill in some of the lyrics to his humming in a cracked, barely there voice. Those beautiful eyes flash open, hearing your voice join his humming. 

He won't stop humming, though. Rooster's hazel eyes are so intense, a medusas snare, that even as hard as you try to close your eyes, you aren't successful. They have captivated you entirely. Bradley finishes humming the song and lets his arms slip from around you. His legs uncross, and they fall flat on the bed on either side of you. 

You push the weighted blanket off your top, so it is pilled around your legs as you ease out of your curled position. 

"BradBrad," you whisper for him. You are still trembling at the very tips of your fingers. The buzz and tingles at the front of your nose are still persistent, but feeling has returned to the rest of your body. The needles fade out of your hands and legs. 

"Love of my life," he hums sweetly again. His eyes have a tiny bit of worry, but for the most part, they are full of love and adoration for you. His body is borderline hot to the touch and feverish behind you. His heart is thumping loudly under your ear. 

Brad's now loose hands find new purchase, gliding over your hips, tracing slow, steady circles. Then his left hand starts creeping forward further. Bradley's large hand is suddenly under his shirt and splaying out flat against your lower belly. That is where it finds its perch. 

You gasp at the feeling of his hand, at the placement of it. Brad's fingers make the tiniest indents pressing into your skin. Your breath hitches at his squeeze. The metal of his wedding ring is warm against your skin, a nice contrast to the rest of his hand. 

Hearing the way your breath hitches, Bradley immediately lays his hand fully flat. Bradley now retreating to a feather-light touch. His fingers swirl in an unknown pattern on your skin. His hands like to trace the shapes of flight paths he has memorized. 

It was something Bradley had confessed to you one night during pillow talk. The two of you sprawled together. You were laying half on his chest. His fingertips were tracing the length of your spine, in feather-light trials, moving from the base of your spine to the small of your back, then following the path again. His fingers would sometimes brush into your hair and give small scratches before tracing your flesh again. 

"How do you do that?" You finally had asked him.

"Do what?" He responded, but something about the glint in his eye told you he knew exactly what you were referring to. Rooster just wanted you to admit it out loud. 

"You are so consistent, but you keep me on my toes." Bradley's hand stills where it had been gliding on your back. Then he started to trace once more, but this time his fingers making small movements and taking on a new drag like pattern dancing across your back. 

"Is that right?" He asked you, but there was a full-blown boyish smirk donning his face. 

You nodded your head, licking your lips. The tingles that his hands were sending through your body started to warm you up even after just having finished with him. "Yes, it rocks my world. So, why don't you let me on the secret?"

"I'm just that good, baby," he told you cheekily. 

"Bradley Bradshaw." You warned lowly.  

"It's flight paths." 

"What?"

"I use the flight paths I have memorized," his fingers danced in a looping motion doubling back and then tracing forward again.

"They make it easy to loop, but it's long enough that there is different pacing, or I use the piano," He told you, letting his fingers tap and shift along your back as if it was a set of ivories suddenly. It had made you giggle. 

"That might have been one of the sexiest things you have ever told me, Bradley." You had told him before you kissed him silly. And letting him showcase those skills with his tongue for the second time that night. 

Now, Brad's hand that is lying against your stomach also starts to follow a pattern. You open your mouth, but Bradley quickly cuts you off. 

"Please, don't say sorry."

"But I am."

"That was a bad attack."

It was true that you hadn't had one that severe in a while. "I'm—"

"Do not say sorry," he repeats. You sigh heavily and move to stop leaning against Bradley. However, he doesn't let you. The hand on your hip and lower abdomen fighting you and drawing you flush against him. He settles you, so you are comfortably leaning against his chest again.

"I am sorry," Brad finally says, almost a whisper in your ear. 

"You are sorry?"

"Yes."

"Why?" You question him. Not sure you understand what he is apologizing for.

"Why are you going to leave me?" Brad asks instead of answering your question. 

You sigh and close your eyes. You lean your head back, so it's settled on Bradley's shoulder. Then take a deep calming breath before responding. "I know you don't want kids. You have always been very honest about that, and it's not your fault I'm pregnant. 

"Well, I don't think you went and got pregnant by yourself. It's kind of a process that takes two contributing parties. Unless you are going to tell me that it's someone else's." Bradley says the words so incredulously that you know he has no doubt the baby is his. 

"I know you don't want this, but I realized I do."

"What if I do want this?"

"I'm not going to let you do this just because you feel obligated, Bradley," you tell him tiredly.

"No. I want this."

"How could that be?" You ask. 

You feel him shift behind you, and you open your eyes to see what he is doing. Bradley is reaching to the bedside table where you see a huge binder sitting. 

It is a binder that you know well. Bradley is a meticulous and organized person. He likes to refer to this binder as your Life Plan Binder. It was full of timelines, dates, references, and lists. Everything Bradley feels is necessary for y'all's life. 

You realize that this one is different from the one that lives on his desk. It is slimmer, and the front doesn't have a picture of the two of you slotted in the cover that the other did. 

"The LPB?" You ask him, confused.  

His left hand makes itself at home again on your lower abdomen, while his right hand puts the binder on your lap. Finally, you read the cover where it says alternative plans in bold lettering. 

"I'm sorry I left earlier, but I needed to get this." He mutters into your ear. Brad's tone is deeply apologetic. He flips the binder open, and there are labeled tabs. You fully realize this is a binder you have never seen before. You scan the tabs and freeze up in Bradley's hold when you see the one he is thumbing to.

It is towards the back, behind the different tabs, including restations, health, new cars, vacations, and retirement, is a tab that has a simple label. It's blue and just says, baby. Bradley flips to the tab, and you see the cover page of the section with the table of contents. In bold at the top of the page, you read Baby Bradshaw. 

A sob that ends up coming out as a broken laugh ripping from your chest. The section contents was filled out with thoroughly thought out plans on you having children, from a section with important timelines, appointments to schedule, college savings plans, and a section with boys' and girls' names that he likes. 

You bring one of your hands up to stifle the sobs that are bubbling in your chest. You hold your hand close over your mouth to try to hold back the sound. His fingers traced over the page and the table of contents for the section. 

"What is this?" You finally ask him. 

"It's my alternate life plan binder. For you know, if other things come up."

"Why do you have a Baby Bradshaw section?" You hesitantly ask. His hand is still warm against your stomach, and he flexes his fingers. 

"Well, a while ago, I started thinking about kids," he trails off, and you start looking through the table of contents again. You see that the most robust and largest section is actually related to adoption. You feel your heart melt in your chest. A new bright feeling of hope blossoms looking at the care, time, and thought he has put into this. As he continues, "and well… You know how I am. I wanted to be prepared for that possibility."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I've been ruminating, and I don't know. Maybe I would have mentioned it at our next check-in. But I knew you don't…" Bradley doesn't finish his sentence, and you lose your mind a little bit.

You pull the large binger up into your hands and shift. You struggle and move until you turn in his grip. Your legs wrapped around Brad's waist. You want to see his face, which is easier in this position. The hand that had been placed on your stomach curls around your back and waist, steadying you against him. 

"You changed your mind?" You ask him. You let your hands trace over his chest, settling on cupping his face. Then, staring into his eyes, you look for any trace of anger or deceit. 

"You seem to also have changed your mind, baby," he takes the binder from where it was awkwardly pressed in between you two. It allows you to settle closer to him. Bradley sets the binder to the side, momentarily breaking eye contact to make sure none of the pages are creased. Your chests were almost flush together. You wrap your arms around his neck, and then he is the one to hold your face. His eyes reconnect with yours, and you once again feel like you are caught in them. 

The intensity and openness in his gaze make your lips move faster than your brain to lay out the whole truth for him. "I don't think that I ever wanted to not have kids. I had just accepted it because I knew that I couldn't." You explain, not breaking eye contact. Bradley's thumb traces a slow circle against your cheek. 

"I would never let you do this by yourself."

"I can't just throw a wrench like this in your life, Brad." 

He immediately starts shaking his head in protest. "It's our life. I'm not going to lie to you and say that you didn't hurt my feelings. If you left me," Bradly heaves a heavy shaky breath. You briefly wonder if he is going to cry again. Then he continues to explain, "I would be broken… shattered. I feel even worse that you didn't want to talk to me or tell me."

You can tell how deeply you hurt him. Even though you knew what you were going to do was wrong, now that you and Bradley are talking about it. You know you need to try and explain your rationale no matter how messed up it was. 

"At first, I wasn't sure how I felt. I wanted to talk to you, but I couldn't do that before I knew how I felt. But then I kept thinking about all the times we talked about you not wanting kids. How you had so many good, valid reasons for feeling that way. I know you, Bradley. I knew that you would do the right thing as soon as I told you. But you don't need obligation ruling anymore of your life that it already does."  

"So what if I was obligated? I agreed to be obligated to you for the rest of our lives when we got married. I want to be bound to you. I want to shoulder your burdens, just like you shoulder mine," Bradley says.

"A child is a lifelong burden for you to shoulder," you say. You need to know, need to be fully sure Brad understands. 

"Do you think so low of me? Do you think I wouldn't love something that was a mix of you and me?"

"There are plenty of people in the world who don't love their children." You tell him, swallowing hard. 

He lets out a long sigh, his breath fanning a bit over your face. "I want this baby. I want this baby with you. I want to be at every doctor's appointment. I want to know everything I've missed. I want family vacations where I can buy a Hawaiian shirt in three different sizes for all of us. I want little league games. I want a baby to sing to sleep. I want someone to put on top of the piano and sing to like my dad did. I want us to paint a nursery. I want Disney trips. I want to fight about curfew. I want to make breakfast on Saturdays and spend Sundays in the shop with football, restoring a beat-up first car. I want to make dad jokes. Fuck, I need to buy a pair of new balances."

Warmth fills you at his words. You let out a small laugh picturing Bradley as a stereotypical dad. How he wants all of that with you. That you won't do this alone like you have mentally been preparing yourself for since finding out. You run your fingers up and down his neck trailing it down his shoulder as far as you can reach before tracing back to his neck. A content sigh falls from his lips, and his eyes close, enjoying your gentle caresses.

"What are some of the names?" You break the silence after his confessions.  

"I like Westley," he says with a small boyish smile. You bite back a grin at the name, playfully rolling your eyes. 

"Oh, and is Buttercup on your list for girl names?" You ask him teasingly. 

"Maybe," he says. You lean forward and peck his lips. 

"You're not going to leave me," Bradley whispers with conviction. You know he is still coming down from the emotional roller coaster you just went through together. You also know Brad is going to need time to fully process this conversation and the change about to happen in your lives. However, you also know, without a doubt, that Bradley will be holding your hand at your next doctor's appointment. 

"No, I'm not." You confirm and brush your lips over his softly. 

"Stay with me forever," Bradley begs you in a voice a little too small for you to handle. 

You hold the hazel gaze for a very, very long moment. You let him examine you, see the truth, and honestly bleeding in your gaze before you respond. What you want to say at first is: I love you. However, those words weren't quite right; they didn't seem to fully capture your intention and the emotion in your chest you felt for this man. So instead, you settle on the words you think will most closely allow him to understand. You brush your lips against him again, whispering your answer into them. 

 "As you wish, Bradley."

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw x y/n #hot 🥵 #Coleys writing #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

[intimidating-fettuccine]

More random HCs for the creeps

Because I’m having a rough morning but I still wanted to write something

Toby can't pronounce Worcestershire sauce. No matter how hard he tries to pronounce it correctly, he never manages to do so, and everyone has just learned to interpret whatever word babble leaves his mouth that sounds similar as Worcestershire. He tries his best, but it's too adorable when he tries to say it so nobody can bring themselves to tease him or correct him about it.

Jeff has a growing plant addiction. As he over time starts to recover his relationship with Liu, he ends up picking up some of Liu's hobbies and traits, and one of those is plants. Liu's bedroom is basically a full garden, with a whole bunch of different kinds of plants and shelves filled with them, and Jeff has started picking up this habit. He only has a few plants right now, most of them easy to care for varieties because he doesn't want to end up killing one, but having the greenery around his room just makes him feel so at peace and so much happier than he was without it. Liu even gives him advice every now and then, and as much as Jeff won't admit it, it makes him really happy.

After seeing so many similar Tiktoks, BEN has started just putting random rocks in drawers. It doesn't matter if it's a desk drawer or a drawer in the kitchen, someone's bedroom, drawers in the art room, or any other hobby room, so long as it's a drawer, BEN has started hiding rocks in them. Some people have started to notice it happening, but nobody is able to figure out who's doing it, and BEN isn't going to stop until they figure out by themselves that he's the one doing it.

EJ can get some pretty bad pollen allergies, as as it's started getting warmer, Jack has been sneezing up a storm. The unfortunate thing for Jack is that despite his demonic form, his sneezes are very cute, as it always takes him by surprise, and he always scrunches up his face and shakes his head when he sneezes, and he always lets out a disgruntled, tiny little growl afterward, and every single person in the mansion always coos over him because of it when he sneezes, much to his chagrin.

To help him with his anxiety, LJ ended up making Jason a very large knitted plush of a bumblebee, something he could squeeze and hold onto in private when he needed it. What neither of them expected was how attached to it Jason would get, and now he carries this very large bee around with him everywhere. He named it Sir Stinger, and if anyone makes a negative comment about it he absolutely verbally destroys them because nobody is allowed to talk badly about Sir Stinger. The only time he doesn't carry it around with him is if he's working out of the mansion or out doing high society noble things.

Slender, when he has to go away on very long trips, misses the residents of the mansion much more than he openly admits. Because of this, he ended up collecting a picture of each resident over time, and he keeps a picture of each one tucked away in his wallet in one of those small wallet photo insert books. This was a small secret for a little while until one day he dropped his wallet, and upon picking it up, Jeff discovered the photos. Slender tried to deny it, but now everybody knows about it and lightly teases him for it, however, none of them were upset by it, and everyone ended up getting him updated photos of themselves and also ended up getting him a few new group photos. It makes him incredibly happy to be able to just pull out his wallet when he can't have a phone on him (because he's old-fashioned and probably doesn't carry one everywhere), and to just be able to see their smiling faces. It makes him feel like a proud dad.

#slender mansion mayhem #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanon #ticci toby headcanons #jeff the killer #jeff the killer headcanon #jeff the killer headcanons #homicidal liu #homicidal liu headcanons #homicidal liu headcanon #ben drowned #ben drowned headcanon #ben drowned headcanons #eyeless jack #eyeless jack headcanon #eyeless jack headcanons #jason the toymaker #jason the toymaker headcanon #jason the toymaker headcanons #laughing jack #laughing jack headcanon #laughing jack headcanons #slenderman #slenderman headcanon #slenderman headcanons

[kirisunshineboy]

𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧 | 𝙮𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙞 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

☆ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: min yoongi/reader ☆ 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: pure fluff ☆ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: a little to much fluff ☆ 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.6k ☆ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: Yoongi arrives home late. Again. So much time off without him has made you think that maybe there's someone else he's interested in now, and you can't bear the pain of that thought.

☆ 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: The word apapachar comes from Nahuatl, and means "to caress with the soul". It is considered one of the most beautiful words in Mexico, and, personally, it is my favorite of all the words in my language. Btw, sorry for any grammatical errors, English isn't my first language.

You always wait for Yoongi awake. Or at least you try to. The first few times weren't that hard: you just sat on the couch in front of the front door and after twenty minutes he would come in apologizing for being late. You didn't care. It wasn't that big of a deal. 

He would come up to you and give you a kiss on the head, kneeling in front of you to rest his head on your lap as a way of apologizing. You always played hard to get, but you could never resist him and ended up accepting his offer of peace, starting to slip your fingers through his soft locks to brush them and massage his head. 

It would all continue with Yoongi carrying you in his arms to his room to tuck you in, giving you kisses with quick flutters all over your face between his every move, ending with him hugging your body gently as he traced slow circles on your back. 

"I love you" was the last thing you heard before falling into dreams. 

But that wasn't happening anymore. 

Not in a long time. 

You can't remember the last day you even saw him at a time other than him coming out of the bedroom early in the morning, leaving you alone in the big bed you share. 

In fact, you can't even be sure if you're still sharing it, as it's been two weeks since his presence in the evenings has been non-existent. 

You've almost forgotten what his soothing touch feels like on your heavy back. 

You glance at the clock by the door. 03:25 a.m.

Your eyes feel heavy and you don't think you can stay awake any longer. Although to be honest, not that that's of any use. Deep in your heart you know that Yoongi probably won't make it home tonight. Or the next. 

Work? Yeah, maybe. You know how obsessive he can be when it comes to producing music. But you're suspicious. And it's at times like this that your doubts are triggered, embracing your unconscious in a way you hate. 

You'd be lying if you said you've never wondered if there's someone else. It's normal, isn't it? And sure, you'd have your reasons for doubting, but it doesn't take you long to bury those thoughts to the back of your mind every time. 

Only this time it's different.

The back-to-back unexplained absences and the strange barrier of distance that has risen between you do nothing to dull your thoughts. 

Yes, maybe you found someone else. Someone who shares the same passion he does for music. Someone who doesn't need so much annoying physical affection. Someone he can talk to about his work without having to explain every little concept. 

You feel your eyes fill with tears and your eyes sting. 

3:50 a.m.

It wouldn't be hard for him to get someone else. You're the first to say he's the most handsome man you've ever seen, I mean, why did he pick you in the first place? Having thousands, millions, of options. Maybe you were just a passing fancy. Maybe he realized the women he could get and decided to pass you up. You wouldn't blame him if he decided to dump you in a corner at the drop of a hat. 

At this point, you're curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around you. Silent tears slide down the surface of your skin and land on the soft fabric covering you. 

It's okay, isn't it? 

You love him. And people who love should step aside if they are no longer reciprocated. That's the way it should be. 

You feel a blue feeling run through you from top to bottom. This only intensifies when you hear the door lock rattle heavily. 

4:10 a.m.

Yoongi arrives. 

When the door opens, you can see his silhouette walking wearily into the house, closing the door carefully behind him. His shadow moves and leaves his coat on the coat rack, sighing heavily. Yoongi moves toward you, but without noticing you yet. Not that there is any light to indicate your presence. 

You feel a new horde of tears threatening to come out and you tremble. 

Yoongi seems to notice a lump on the couch and turns on the lights just in time to see your figure writhing in spasms under the blanket. 

His face goes from tired to worried in an instant. 

"Honey, what's wrong, what are you doing awake at this hour?" Yoongi whispers as he approaches your trembling figure. His face looks alarmed as he stands in front of you. 

What Yoongi watches closely are your watery eyes and flushed nose. Your flushed cheeks and tousled hair make him fidget.

You still can't speak. Not with the lump in your throat. 

"Honey, please talk to me"

Yoongi insists, kneeling in front of you and reaching for your hands underneath the cloth. His heavy eyes are flashing an alarm signal beneath you. 

"You are late. Again." 

The words leave your throat in a wisp of a voice that Yoongi wouldn't have heard but for the silence there. 

Yoongi clenches your hands and looks down, guilty. 

"I... The job took me longer than expected, you know I've been working on the album I told you about and-"

You don't let him finish. 

"You're going to leave me?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Your tone is the complete opposite of your current appearance, which is destroyed and tearful. Yoongi looks up at you, surprised by your question. He lets go of your hands. 

"What are you talking about?"

You feel your chest tighten. You open your mouth again and try to speak, but only rubbery, unintelligible gasps come from your lips. Yoongi distinguishes a few loose things among your babbling, "You're always late," "I know I'm not as interesting as other women," and a halting, "I'll do better."

You don't know how to describe Yoongi's expression as he stands up and turns his back to you, mumbling. He holds his hair before asking you. "What woman are you talking about?"

You look up from the blanket and he turns to face you. Your eyes meet. 

"Isn't that why you're not home?"

"I'm not-"

"Isn't that why you don't hug me?"

Yoongi can swear he feels his heart melt with an acidic sense of guilt after hearing you. 

He rushes to hug you tightly, wrapping his arms around your sobbing body. 

You are like this because of him. 

It's his fault. 

You feel like you could burst into tears right there. 

"Oh, honey," Yoongi's voice sounds broken. More crying builds up in you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

You allow yourself to relax under his embrace. You missed him so much. Yoongi tightens his grip on you and drowns your sobs in his chest. 

"I thought that- that I was the problem and that you didn't like me anymore-" you cry. 

"Please, please don't say that," he begs. He takes your face in his hands and removes the hair over your face to look at you. Now you can make out the dark bags under his eyes. Now Yoongi's nose and cheeks are red too. 

"I'm sorry" He says."Sorry for being away so much, sorry for not explaining anything to you, I didn't mean for you to feel this way..... I'm just- sorry for everything, honey..."

Yoongi kisses your face in messy motions, desperate to let you know he loves you, that he would never stop.

More apologies spill from his lips between each kiss. He takes special care to cover your nose and forehead with affection, mingling his own tears with yours. 

"I-I love you so much and it has never crossed my mind to have anyone else. You're all I want with me, forgive me..."

Yoongi catches you in a protective embrace. You wrap your limbs around his torso, wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging to his body. He smiles, tracing the familiar circles on your back to reassure you. Your eyes close longingly at the movement of his fingers on your skin. You had missed him so much. 

His breathing begins to soothe you, calming your crying after a few minutes. Yoongi buries his face in your hair, breathing slowly. He had missed you too. 

After a few moments that felt long, you feel him stand up and lift you with him, carrying you all the way to his bedroom. He sets you down on the bed and asks you to let go. 

"It will only take a moment, I promise. I'm not going anywhere," he says and gives you one of his rubbery smiles. You reluctantly agree, letting go to hug yourself. 

Yoongi turns his back on you and walks over to the closet to find you some comfortable clothes to sleep in. He decides to bypass your pajamas and goes straight to his part of the closet to give you his favorite shirt and a pair of shorts. He pulls out his own change of clothes and lays them on the bed next to you. 

You feel tired and it's no wonder, as it's after five in the morning. Yoongi takes off your top and puts on his shirt, kissing your shoulders before doing so. Then he puts on his shorts. When he finishes changing you to sleep he doles out more kisses on your face, leaving a soft one on your lips. 

You wait for him to finish dressing and when he does, he takes one end of the blanket from the bed and wraps it around you, moving you around until he has laid down as well. He pulls you in until you are facing his chest and turns off the light, lulling you to sleep. His arms tighten around you as he draws slow patterns on your back. 

Your eyelids feel heavy and you cling closer to his warmth, feeling yourself slowly fade away.

"I love you" Is the last thing you hear before you fall asleep. 

#min yoongi #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x y/n #bangta boys #bangtan #bts suga #yoongi x reader angst #yoongi fluff #bts #yoongi oneshot

[wandasmistress]

Trapped

Requests (2)- A bottom!Natasha x Reader where Natasha and the reader are heading to a mission spot and while they’re in the quinjet R is eating out and fingering Natasha + Bottom!Natasha x reader where they have sex on a mission

Synopsis- Steve shouldn’t have tricked you into going on missions causing Natasha to miss you dearly, but once you’re back for good there is always time to make up for what was lost.

Pairings- Bottom!Natasha Romanoff x Top!Reader

Warnings- 18+ Content, and Steve?

Word Count- 4k

A/N- I’ve been really inactive for the past few months but I feel that I have got my motivation back to write so hopefully I can start to put out more stories :)

➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Your body was exhausted to stay the least, it was a mistake for you to sign up for quick missions, a big mistake. The need to always be in non-stop action to rid yourself of growing daily boredom was prominent within you. You didn’t mind all that much because doing missions was something to keep you in check and present in reality, besides one other thing.

Because of that other thing which is a special someone that you dreaded leaving for missions. Each time boarding a quinjet or black decked-out SUV there would be a sorrowful presence looming at the door of the compound’s exit, Natasha. 

When you weren’t on missions she was your constant light throughout your day because with her around you never got bored and always had a fire to keep you lit inside. When she left for a lengthy recon mission months prior you had to do something to keep you entertained for the time being. That happened to be quick missions Steve had encouraged you to sign up for when he saw your lack of life as you stared out the compound’s grand living room window that held a magnificent view of the surrounding wilderness that kept you entranced for the time being while your lover was away.

What Steve “forgot” to mention to you is that if you signed up for quick missions it would be official for eight months, let's just say you almost got into a fight with America’s most beloved. Once you signed with your signature you couldn’t take it back. At first, it was fine for the months when Natasha was gone, you had something to occupy and eat up your time, but when she came back it was a different story. 

You still had four months left on your contract and time seemed to slow down significantly, so to Natasha, it felt like an eternity. Every time she saw you off a piece of her inner happiness chipped away while uncertainty replaced its spot. She was filled with tremendous dread and loneliness during all the nights she spent without you. She longed for your touch every second of the day and especially at night, she yearned for your company so bad it was absurd. 

She had been pestering Steve about taking you off the quick missions but he ignored her advances and excused himself immediately so he wouldn’t receive her raft. Constantly following him around the compound to disrupt his day, in her eyes if she couldn’t get any sort of peace,  why should he? During all the time she had been pestering Steve, it was the end of the eight months; she couldn’t have been more delighted. She was like a kid at a candy store, only a few feet taller, tapping her foot repeatedly against the pavement as she waited to hear the familiar buzz of the incoming quinjet.

Her deep red tresses swayed from the sudden gush of air, a dark shadow cast upon her from the monumental aircraft. The shadow was a stark contrast to the fierce light that was present in her from the thought of finally being able to have you fully.

Stepping off the mechanical quinjet for the first time in hours made you relieved to breathe in the fresh air, smelling blended natural fragrances and a familiar perfume that you knew all too well. It was in a flash and then the next moment you were bombarded with Natasha’s presence. It was hard for you to hug her back with your duffle bags still in your hands but you wasted no time in dropping them and enveloping her in your arms.

She clung onto you as a sloth does to a cecropia tree, her head buried deep in your chest as she took time to fully embrace your presence. You understood her actions because the last time you spent a full day together was two months ago, who knew how many small missions there were out there to be completed.

Natasha brought her head out of your chest and peered up at you. Taking in your wondrous features that she admired staring at during the brink of the night when the moonlight shined just perfectly on your dormant face. She would study you for hours until she fell asleep in your comforting hold with only the thought of you there with her lulling her to sleep.

“Take a picture Nat, it last longer.” You say softly to Natasha as your hands naturally travel towards her hips to hold onto them.

“Oh, shut up.” She lightly chuckled as she gave a gentle slap to your shoulder, “I would take a picture of you but it could never truly capture your beauty.” Her words made your cheeks heat up along with the way she was intensely staring at your face.

“I can tell you missed me because that was cheesy as fuck, but don't worry I forgive you for that cause I missed you too.” She rolled her eyes while letting out a breathy laugh at your response as her hands trailed up your abdomen and around your neck.

She came close to your face causing your breaths to merge, you could practically smell the minty freshness on the cusp of her breath, “But ‘Take a picture it last longer’ isn’t it?” Your mind was too hazed with the thought of her lips on yours to fully understand what she was saying. Leaning forward to catch her lips only for her to back away at the last second making a frown come to your face.

“Such a big baby, don’t worry you're gonna make it up to me with more than just kisses for your absence.” She teases you as she pecks the corners of your mouth then continues to give small kisses all around your face but never your lips which slightly agitates you.

Although, not more than Steve coming to interrupt your moment with Natasha. She instantly got annoyed as he rounded the corner. A glint of sweat can be spotted on his face meaning he ran twenty miles non-stop. 

With a roll of her eyes, Natasha instantly stares down Steve as he walks up to you both, her arms now crossed over her rigid stomach.

Steve awkwardly greets the both of you with a skittish wave as he avoids Natasha’s fierce gaze.

You greet him back satisfactorily, putting your hand on the lower part of Nat’s back to wordlessly communicate with her to acknowledge Steve.

“Steve.” Natasha bluntly replies, showing no ounce of welcome in her tone.

“I hate to say this, but you both need to meet me in the debriefing room. Be there in the next ten minutes.” He says with a militant tone, fleeing towards the door of the compound straight after his assertion.

Natasha made a move to follow him but was stopped by the firm grip on her waist that held her back. When she turned around with lifted eyebrows she was met with your unimpressed face as you rolled your eyes at her abrasive antics.

“I’m off of those little pesky missions now, there's no need to hold any grudges. Help me put away my stuff, yeah?” You softly ask her, reducing your hold on her waist because you trusted her enough to not go after Steve to give him a mouthful.

She shook her head and gave you a small smirk, “Since when did you turn into a peacemaker?” She scoffs slightly in a mischievous manner as she starts striding off.

You give a light chuckle at her words but wrinkle your eyebrows in confusion at her retreating form, “You're not gonna help with my bags?”

She turns around while still strolling with a charming pout on her face and shouts, “My hands are kind of tired from all the stroking they have been doing since someone wasn’t here to do it for me!”

Your face runs cold as her coy pout turns into a naughty grin. You're stuck in a trance at her distant figure and you swear you can see her hips swaying more than they were a few seconds ago. You wasted no time in picking up your duffle bags and catching up with her, she always had a way with words that left you awestruck.

»

You and Natasha had just walked into the debriefing room Steve mentioned and the first thing your wondering eyes spotted was the brown box of your favorite, Dough Doughnuts. Treading straight towards the box of donuts as if your life depended on it; grabbing a plate from the table where the donuts were held to stack some of the pastries.

Helping yourself to multiple thick and doughy donuts put a bright smile on your face, “Help yourself, I got them for you, out of guilt.” Steve murmurs next to you rendering you to jump from the sudden surprise, managing to save your plateful of donuts as you turn towards him with a warm smile on your face.

You thank him genuinely, “although this won’t be enough for me to fully forgive you.” Your words cause him to take in a deep breath as you send him a shallow smile as you move around him and make your way to Natasha sitting at the immense oak oval table.

As you come closer to Nat she makes eye contact with you, her eyes broadening at your approaching figure. When you made it over she raised her right eyebrow as she eyed your plate stacked with donuts. By that time you had already started eating them on the walk over so when you spoke your mouth was full of mushed donuts.

“What? The last time I ate was hours ago.” You reasoned.

Natasha’s resting smirk only grew as she replied, “moya malen'kaya rybka fugu ”

You playfully narrowed your eyes as you took a seat behind her, quickly flashing your mouth full of mixed donuts only for her to swiftly pinch your stomach with a twisted grimace. Quietly chuckling to yourself as you got seated; Steve cleared his throat for both of your attention.

Just as he got attention to start speaking Natasha kicked up her feet on the deep oak conference table with a loud thud followed by a displeased sigh. You had to look away for a moment to contain your laughter, you had yet to ever see her be this petty towards Steve.

“I just wanted to start this meeting to say I never meant to have you sign up for the missions but no one else wanted to, and god knows the shield agents aren’t prepared enough for constant tasks like that. Leading to the point of this gathering, which is a final mission for you both.”

Natasha’s face turned into a passive expression that only Steve could see from his angle; a slight hesitation in his speech from the direct eye contact Natasha had with him.

“Don’t flip your lid Nat, this is a recon mission that should take less than a week. More of a getaway if you ask me, it’s in Madrid, I searched on that engine Googlet and their beaches are said to be nice during this time. The mission file is on the table, have fun ladies.” He declared before he left the room with a clasp of his hands.

There was a few seconds of brief silence until Natasha turned around in the twisty chair with her signature smirk ingrained on her face. She slowly arose from her position in her seat to saunter a few steps and rest herself on your awaiting lap. 

In between the mid-bite of a donut, you stared deep into her eyes, slowly moving the pastry away from your face to deliver a soft peck to her nose. Her face scrunching up in mock disgust as she pinched you on the cheek complaining about the sticky filling that now occupied her nose.

You couldn’t help but not take her words into account as you zoned her words out to only focus on the accentuating features that reeled you into her as a fisherman does to fish. The only thought on your mind was her ethereal beauty, not only did her outer beauty look so magnificent, her inner beauty was millions of times better. Cherishing the moments when her relaxed personality came out because of your presence; the way her face seemed to light up when you were near, and the way you found solace in her viridescent irises.

»

You were standing in the cockpit, leveling the controls of the quinjet to kickstart the autopilot mode so you could catch up on some sleep that you dearly missed. As you were focused on turning on the alarm to notice another aircraft in the air, turning on the radar, and checking safety controls caused you to fail to notice the slim figure approaching from behind.

Nat takes this moment why you are in mental solitude to absorb your features; your concentrated face making a knot deep within her start to ache. The way your hands are flexed across the controls, moving in practiced synchronization as if you could do it perfectly with your eyes closed. Also, the small barely noticeable scars littered across your arms and hands that she knows all the stories to you, courtesy of you telling them to her in the deepest of the night as her head lay on your bare chest when sleepiness was absent.

She came up behind you while you were slightly leaning on the controls, encircling her hands around your stomach, laying her cheek across the side of your back as she watched the view of the endless clouds. This is where she loved to be, anywhere with you, no matter the place.

When you felt her hands on your abdomen a sense of warmness spread throughout your body at just her touch; what she could make you feel in just a matter of seconds was a feeling you always loved.

There was a few moments of sereness that passed by before her face shifted away from the clear window to face your back.

“I really missed this.”

You let out a small chuckle, pivoting your head scarcely to the left so you could see her out of the corner of your eye. “I never knew you were so needy, babe.”

She slaps your back with her right arm at your tease which causes you to tremble away from her grip but eventually turn towards her, leaning back on the controls now so you were face to face. 

“Well you have been away to satisfy my needs, and I can only do so much.” She expressed softly with a playful angry expression on her face as she stands on her toes to connect both your lips once and for all.

The laughter within your stomach automatically ceases as her plump lips come in contact with yours, being substituted with a desire. Your hands were quick to move up to her hips and gradually down to her plump bottom, giving a gentle squeezing. 

A soft moan discharged from her closed throat at the pressure that was so close to where she needed you to be. Her lips miraculously worked with yours in an erotic dance as the force of the kisses made each of your heads move back and forth. Her hands unhurriedly came up to your firm stomach for balance, her hands skimming over your clothed breast which made a groan escape between your parted lips as you came out of the kiss for air.

No words were uttered as you wordlessly looked into her eyes for the next few seconds, her dilated pupils and the salacious look that resounded within her darkening orbs made you dive in for more of what you so badly dreamed for.

Your hands left the position on her lower half to quickly cup her face and bring her closer while her soft tongue pressed against the entrance of your lips for admission to your tongue. Bestowing her access by parting your lips, your tongues clashed together in simultaneous congruence. A deprived moan came from the pit of her throat from the way your mouth deliciously sucked on her tongue. That eruption from deep within her vocal cords was the moment something clicked on inside of you to grant her real satisfaction.

You swiftly picked her up by the rear and carelessly sat her down on top of the controls, damn the quinjet because if you go down this would be a gratifying last moment of your life. While still retaining a steady pace of indulging in Natasha’s succulent lips, your hurried hands tugged at the hem of her leggings. She snickered as she caught onto your intentions and lifted her bottom so you could quickly pull her lower garments off. 

Greedy fingers instantly met Natasha’s clothed cunt moments after her leggings had been moved and forgotten by her ankles. You took your middle and pointer fingers together and rubbed them against her clothed protruding clit. Provoking a loud moan from her; your breaths integrating from the brisk withdrawal by both of your damp lips. Her right hand presently snaked up the back of your neck while her left hand rested on your shoulder; making eye contact with her as you devoted more pressure on her clothed clit, her pupil now a tiny black speck in the sea of inveigle basil green. 

Her eyes squeezed shut as they rolled back while her mouth hung open and twitched from the constant motion happening right where she needed you to be, her head inclining forward as you pressed harder. Your sweaty foreheads came together for only a moment until you shifted your head to start sending temperate but firm kisses along her face and later neck.

You had enough of taunting her, wanting to feel her needy opening sucking up your digits. Impatiently pushing aside her lacey panties as you were met with a beyond moist sticky cunt; quick to find her clit and begin irritating it for more pressure. 

Natasha’s celestial moans and faltering sighs filled the quinjet's advanced space, luckily it was just you two, or else things would have been inconvenient. Although your fingers did not just stop at rubbing her clit, too eager you wait not one more second and plunged them straight into her opening. A coarse protracted whine came from her hushed mouth, as her face rested on your shoulder she took the opportunity to bite down to help with the influx of pleasure she acquired in such little time. 

This didn’t deter you as you only started to pump your digits quicker, the only sound echoing throughout the aircraft was your low grunts now and then, Natasha’s moans that began to sound more like yearning cries, and her pussy making various squelching noises that rang like music to your ears as you continued to hammer into her.

It didn’t take long before that tight knot within her stomach that had been itching badly inside of her, in demand to be undone, finally erupted. When that knot flared deep in the pit of Natasha’s stomach that’s when a real guttural whine escaped from her lips. You knew she was quite the verbal person in intimate situations like this, but the moan that was unleashed from her sounded extra-terrestrial, an almost jarring roar that was brought out from a hidden place inside her.

You weren’t close to being done yet, the second you remove your fingers from her center a tired objection came from her heavy breathing mouth. Her muddled head leaned back until her heavy eyes looked upon your face, her creased eyebrows hinted to her examining your sudden action to stop. Before she could let out a weak protest you stuck your soaked fingers that had just been buried inside her past her plump lips and flat onto her unexpectant tongue.

She sucked her juices from your fingers slowly in a seductive manner as she kept eye contact with you; your knot within starting to beg for release just from the way her pristine lips grasped around your digits and slowly slid down the expanse of your fingers. When she popped the fingers out of her mouth you immediately brought them up to your lips to get a taste, unknowingly to you Nat’s eyes hazily watching the movement of your hands and the way you searched for any leftover taste of her on your fingers only for it all to be gone.

In a matter of seconds, your lips instantly met Natasha’s again, causing a groan to leave her from the force of roughness. In your little plan, you had found what you were looking for, but there was still some leftover taste of Nat scattered on her tongue. A deep moan set free from her drowsy self at the feeling of you sucking her tongue harshly. She brought her head away from yours slowly, a string of mixed saliva drooping between your faces as both your lustful eyes stared deep into one another's souls.

“There’s more where that came from.” She uttered in a husky voice.

After dispatching another quick peck to her lips, you sank to the ground in an instant. Your knees collided against the hard steel just as Natasha had spread her legs open, wide enough for you to have full sight of her exalted pussy that could never be replicated. Natasha took her bottom lip in between her teeth and smirked from the way you were taking time to adore her bare cunt as if she hadn’t told you to continue the vulgar actions that you were performing moments earlier.

It didn’t take you any longer to get back into the swing of things as your face merged into her sodden cunt, her thighs encompassing your head as her radiant smell plagued your sense as you took a deep breath in. Sticking your deprived tongue out from behind your lips that were submerged in her center, licking an elongated vertical line up her center. Her shivering that knocked you off your course made you resort to wrapping your hands around her outer thighs to keep her in place, talking into her pussy which sent a thundered hum attack her clit which stimulated her so much that she bucked and whined like a lost wolf that has strayed from its pack.

Her body shuddered from your attempted talking inducing numerous buttons on the control deck to be pressed while some switches flicked on and off. Your grip on her thighs constricted to ensure she changed no controls that would cause the quinjet to plummet to the ground instantaneously. Even with a slight chance of crashing, you stretched your hungry tongue past her entrance, and as deep as your face would let you without suffocating, making this another satisfying moment to go out. 

Your tongue wriggled back and forth inside of Natasha, numerous times pressing on the bundle of nerves that made her go crazy each time you hit it just right. Natasha needed something to hold onto as the knot in her came undone even more each second, her pale fingers sliding in between your locks and barring onto the roots. You hissed slightly from the tugging she would do every few seconds from hitting her g-spot now and then. That didn’t hold you back from going deeper as her taste was so addicting, her juices being like holy ale sent down from above just for you only, sacred nectar that could never be found anywhere on the earth no matter how hard you searched. 

Ultimately getting lost in the tempo and taste of Natasha brought her to another orgasm that struck her harder than last time tenfold, you were always so proficient with your tongue that she could never get enough. This time no sound was emitted from her opened mouth, only a sound of strangulation as she failed to take in air. Her tense chest heaved in and out as she got a hold of her breath but was still moments into seeing the stars. That was all muffled for you because she had you interlocked tightly within her pale plush thighs, her juices drenching your face as her cum oozed out from within her. You were entrapped, and truthfully, you don’t think you want to leave just yet.

»

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanova #natalia romanova #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanova x reader #natasha romanova x you #natasha romanova x y/n #natalia romanova x reader #natalia romanova x y/n #natalia romanova x you #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natalia x reader #natalia x you #reader insert #top!reader #top reader #bottom!natasha romanoff #bottom!natasha #bottom natasha romanoff #bottom natalia romanova #bottom natasha romanova #mcu fanfiction #wandasmistress #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanova smut #lesbian

[cvpitvno]

public sex with svt!!!!!

PUBLIC SEX WITH SVT

𖤐 — afab, gn terms, public sex, getting caught

￫ SEUNGCHEOL

mans is going to go hard or nothing in public - to him, if he has to fuck you in public it's because you (cheol) were too needy to wait to get home or you were being a brat that he thought needed to be put into their place

￫ JEONGHAN

absolutely lives for public sex/sexual activities - he's giving the dropped fork and under-the-table head trope or maybe even perhaps sneaking off to follow you to the bathroom since he knows his comments got you all hot under the collar

￫ JOSHUA

he's a picnic fucker for sure - he prepares such a lovely lunch and sets the blanket up so nicely... he also chooses a park with minimal visitation just so he can press your face down into the blanket and take you from behind

￫ JUN

not really public sex but when you have 12 other group members having sex around the apartment is basically public sex - the two of you get caught going at it like rabbits on the couch... yeah... awk

￫ HOSHI

studio sex but instead of fucking you in the actual practice area, hoshi is fucking you in the cramped closet... yes the members are on the other side of the door trying to tune out the sounds the two of you are making but damn hoshi just keeps going harder

￫ WONWOO

you and wonwoo go to one of those kitty cafes and while you spend a lot of time talking and letting the numerous amounts of kittens, he ends up taking you to the establishment's bathroom - over the counter, clothing still on, and a hand grasped tightly over your mouth

￫ WOOZI

studio sex? but like... during office hours - yes he'll probably be given shit from his management or the building staff for fucking you so loudly and while people can walk in or hear the two of you at any given second

￫ SEOKMIN

i can't see him being into actual public sex but i could see him somewhat enjoying the embarrassment of fucking when his members are all home - he gets off on the teasing from them and is proud to know they're all listening to him make you feel good

￫ MINGYU

fancy dinner dates with gyu are a must and happen quite often - along with these beautifully planned dinner dates are the hidden hands and dirty whispered words. no one bats an eye at the honeymoon-esque couple sitting on the same side of the booth, nor do they pay kind to gyus large frame blocking you in and hiding you from prying eyes

￫ MINGHAO

he’s not above fucking you in the middle of nowhere against a tree - nature walks with this man almost always end in some form of his hands on you, i mean they’re peaceful and have so many places that one can teeter just on the edge of being seen, yet still remain hidden enough to not be caught

￫ SEUNGKWAN

wouldn’t go the full nine yards but i could see him liking the idea of getting each other off under the table, hands shoved down each others pants and both desperately trying to keep your noises and facial expressions under control

￫ VERNON

clubbing with vernon just makes sense - lost in the crowd of bodies, vernon would have his hand slipped down your pants or up your skirt and just making you see stars with the light touches and deep strokes of his fingers

￫ CHAN

man would for a fact fuck you without care if someone sees - an alleyway in broad daylight with your back pressed against the wall and legs wrapped around his waist; the minute dino gets horny, he just needs to get it out of his system or he’ll turn to mush

#𖤐 — svt writings. #cw : public sex #svt x reader #svt smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut

[starogeorgina]

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬

Pairing: Harwin Strong x Targ oc

Warnings: Character death

3.07

Vaegon’s brows pull together as you walk slowly through the outer yard, your hand resting on your lower back. His eyes are full of concern. Your sons were of an age where they started to understand the dangers of pregnancy and labor but were still too embarrassed to ask you about it.

“My mother used to tell me discomfort is how we serve the realm,” you say softly. “I had no idea what she truly meant until I was pregnant with you and Aerion, but the discomfort is completely normal. It’s just our bodies changing to make room for the baby.”

“Is it painful?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, my sweet; besides, it’s completely worth it.” You squeezed his shoulder with your free hand, but Vaegon still didn’t look convinced. “If women didn’t endure childbirth, then we would never have our children, and I would be without the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Feeling light drops of water on your face, you look up. The ride over from Dragonstone has been peaceful, but since you landed, the sky has become much murkier, and the sun is disappearing quickly behind the thick gray clouds.

You glance back at the knight walking not far behind. “You don’t need to come in if you don’t wish to; the meetings can be rather dull.”

“No, I think being the king's cupbearer would be an honor.”

You smile and stroke his cheek. “Very well then.”

Holding your head high, you enter the same room you have been in countless times, yet you feel as if you don’t belong.

—

It was hard for you to read the expressions of the small council members, especially when they seem to be sleeping with their eyes open after rehashing the same issue over and over again. It was clear Alicent was the ruling force during these meetings, and although many times she was right when it came to saving money for the realm, she left no room for negotiation.

You attempt to hide a yawn with the back of your hand, but it is poorly done. Alicent narrows her eyes and asks, “Are the overcrowded cells not enough of a threat to keep you awake, princess?”

“I recall how tired you were towards the end of each pregnancy,” your father chuckles. “As is the case with most women.”

“I say cut their cocks off and be done with it.”

While a few of the lords nodded in agreement, Alicent scoffs, “That is the type of barbaric method I would expect to hear from Daemon.”

“It was Prince Daemon, the former commander of the gold cloaks, who suggested it many years ago; however, since his methods have stopped, the crime level has risen. And I don’t see how permanently taking away the weapon of men who commit the most heinous acts to stop them from repeating them is any more barbaric than cutting the hands of little children who only stole a loaf of bread so that they wouldn’t starve to death.”

Alicent grinds her teeth. “Then please, share what great solution to these problems you have conjured while sitting comfortably upon the throne of Dragonstone.”

“I don’t sit upon the throne; that is my sister’s seat. As will my fathers be one day.” Alicent rolls her eyes, and you tilt your head to look directly at your father, who looked less than impressed. “These men have been charged with being rapists and will remain a threat to the people of King's Land. Give them two options: they can have their cocks cut off and go north, or they can be put to the sword. The night’s watch is always looking for new blood, and the lords of Winterfell will be thankful for the extra men.”

You pause when Vaegon refills Alicent’s cup for her, and her hateful gaze burns into him. When he goes to refill the kings, your father smiles at him and says, “Good lad.”

“As for the children stealing, Lord Lyonel informed me that nearly all of them are from orphanages. If the crown isn’t feeding the poor, then it’s us who have failed.” Alicent opens her mouth to cut in, but you continue before she can. “Princess Rhaenyra has hired a stonemason to build ovens and will have fresh bread made every morning that will be delivered to the orphanages, and whatever is left will be given to the hungry living on the streets.”

“That is the most hono-”

“And how much will this cost the crown?” Alicent asks, cutting the lord who was speaking off.

“It will cost nothing, your grace. The stonemason did it in exchange for his daughter being allowed to assist the dragon keepers in the dragon pit from time to time. She is fascinated by our dragons.”

Alicent raises her eyebrows, challenging you silently.

“It will be the dragon riders on Dragonstone who will fly back and forth to the docks of the keep with the food from the bakery, and hopefully in the future, fresh fruit and vegetables as well.”

“Very well then,” your father smiles. “We will go forth with the ideas Princess Vaella has put forward. What is next?”

“The Stepstones are under threat again, your grace,” Jasper Wylde, master of law, says. “The pirates are taking root, and we must act as a matter of urgency.”

A sense of dread comes over you. “Many good knights died while defeating Craghas Drahar and his army. My king, you cannot allow this to happen again. Seasmoke and Varos are all familiar with the territory; I shall speak to Ser Laenor when I return home, and I will send a raven to my uncle.”

“Would you not fly out, yourself this time, princess?” The maester asks.

“Not while I’m with a child. Vhagar will most likely follow Caraxes, and hopefully the sight of the largest dragon in the world will be enough to sway anyone foolish enough to try and reclaim the stepstones for themselves.”

The council meeting continues until your father eventually ends it, after covering each subject brought up even though he didn’t seem fully satisfied with the solutions. Just as the lords were rising from their seats, a low rumbling came from outside, and a plume of fire was seen above.

“It’s Aegon returning on Sunfyre and Helaena on Dreamfyre!” Vaegon runs to the window and looks up. Excitedly, he asks, “Mother, may I go to the dragon pit?”

You wanted to say yes, knowing how disappointed he was when he never saw the other dragons when you arrived, but you didn’t feel it was safe for him to go alone, and the majority of the knights and you needed to speak to your father. “I’m afraid—”

“Forgive me, princess,” Ser Tyland says. “But I can escort my nephew to the dragonpit. I’ve been dying to see Nightmare and Ashwing.”

Ser Tyland looks genuinely intrigued as he walks to the door with your son. Just as the knight opens the door for them to leave, Alicent takes a gulp of wine and then asks, “Why those names?”

You weren’t sure who the question was directed at, but Vaegon answered. “I cannot recall why my brother chose that name for his dragon, your grace, but I named my dragon Nightmare because of Ser Harwin.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Ser Harwin?”

“Yes, your grace. My stepfather thought he was having a nightmare when he woke during the night and saw something black moving in my crib. He had never seen a baby dragon before and got a fright.”

You smile at the memory; it was one of the few times you’d ever seen Harwin look terrified. The look on his face when you insisted it was cute watching the dragon sleep beside your son and go back to bed was priceless. To you, it was normal, as you used to sleep with your dragon as a baby, but Harwin wasn’t convinced and spent the full night watching over the cribs, doing the same thing when Ashwing hatched.

The queen gives him a doubtful look. “Ser Harwin just happened to be checking on your nursery during the late hours of the night when your dragon hatched?”

“All my children sleep in my bedchambers until they have grown out of their cribs.” You look past her and smile at your son and Ser Tyland. “You better go now if you wish to catch your uncle and auntie before they leave the dragonpit.”

—

Your father makes small talk while the room is cleared, and when it is empty, he cuts straight to the point. “How are the king's hand and his son-in-law holding up?”

“They are both devastated. And I’m afraid Lord Lyonel might not recover from this, and you may need to find yourself a new hand.”

Visibly upset Your father sighs into his hand. “He is a loyal man, a good hand. Lord Lyonel will be difficult to replace.”

“I hope I’m wrong, and he does recover from this.”

“I thought he was no longer ill. The raven Rhaenyra sent suggested he was on the mend.”

“He is no longer physically ill, but mentally, I see him giving up. I hoped being around Harwin and his granddaughter would give him motivation, but he’s sinking deeper into depression.” You take a deep breath as the feeling of dread returns. “Father I… I saw the fire at Harrenhal in a dream years ago. That's why we never returned.”

His face crinkles with concern. “What? You never told me this before.”

“I saw my husband burning in the flames, screaming for his father. So I forbid Harwin from going back; that is why he and his father changed course and returned to Dragonstone. But the same night I had that vision, I had another. I believe it was a prophecy of some kind; on my Valyrian steel, it was written in our mother tongue that my son would be a bringer of blood and flames. I think there is war upon us.”

“Vaella…”

“I’ve been terrified all these years,” you admit. “I never told Harwin because I didn’t want to burden him; he loves those boys as if they were his own. He would gladly give them his house name. and I just never knew how to tell him. Every time I pray, I pray to see which son it is so I can change it and keep them safe.”

“Do you know when this war will start?”

“No, I don’t. This is why it’s so important that if Lord Lyonel doesn’t return to his post, you seek Corlys Velaryon to be your new hand. He is of our blood. He will help keep my children safe, as well as Jace, Luke, and Joff.”

“I think this is premature.”

You reach for his hand and say, “I believe there are vipers hiding amongst the grass, and we will most likely cut them off at the head before they can spread any more venom.”

“And what poison are you alluding to?”

Tears swell in your eyes; you could see it plain as day written on your father's face that he wants to listen to you. “Do not allow Otto Hightower to return to your council; this I beg of you. We spoke of crimes earlier, yet you haven’t addressed the crime of treason. What of those who call Rhaenyra’s sons bastards?”

He wipes your fallen tears away. “I will cut out the tongue of any man or woman who dares say such a thing.”

—

Walking down towards the dragonpit, you feel deflated, knowing your father was blinded by his devotion to his wife to see how the greens plotted against Rhaenyra. You speed up your steps as you smile politely to the lords and ladies you pass. The knight escorting you insisted you slow down; you just needed to leave the red keep.

When you reach the bottom of the staircase, you see Ser Tyland speaking with some other lords. You were confused as to how they made it to the Hill of Rhaenys and back so fast. “Ser Tyland?”

“Princess,” he says. “Prince Vaegon’s dragon is a lot larger than I believed. It must be true what they say about the magic in Dragonstone.”

“Did you travel to the dragonpit?” You ask, trying to catch sight of Vaegon.

“No, when we went outside to the courtyard, Nightmare was flying overhead, so we watched from there. A rare sight indeed.”

Nightmare usually comes and goes from the dragonpit in Dragonstone whenever she wants, so it was expected she’d do so in the keep. You quickly glance around and ask, “Where is my son?”

“With Prince Aegon. He returned shortly after we went outside and went off with him.”

“I just passed my brother in the hallway; my son was not with him.”

Your heart races as you frantically search for any sign of your missing son. Fear grips you like a vice, making it difficult to breathe as you call out for Vaegon. You rush through the different hallways, ignoring Ser Tyland as he calls after you. You feel this new terror could consume you until you spot the one knight in the keep you truly trust.

“Ser Harrold, Ser Harrold!”

He comes to an abrupt stop, as do the knights following behind him, “princess.”

“My son, Prince Vaegon, is missing.”

“You heard the princess; find the prince.” Ser Harrold waves a couple of ladies over. “See to it the princess is resting until we find the prince.”

—

You pace back and forth; fear and panic have a tight grip on your heart. You would not leave until he was found. Feeling a sudden heaviness, you sit with your head in your hands, rethinking your last conversation with Harwin before you leave.

“Stop,” you giggle, feeling your husband's hands roaming over your body. His hands move from your hips to cup your swollen breasts while kissing the back of your neck. “I’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”

“I can work with that,” he laughs.

“It will take more than ten just to remove my skirts,” you say, spinning around to face him. “I believe you’ll need to until I return, and then we shall have all night.”

“Oh, it shall be a long wait.”

You peck at his lips and say, “But you’ll survive it.”

Since the night you first kissed Harwin, your desire for him has never ceased, nor has his for you. Over the years, you have become more obsessed with each other. Hearing footsteps approaching inside your rooms, you turn to face your son and ask, “Are you ready?”

He nods.

“Have a safe flight.” Harwin kisses you on the cheek, then goes over to Vaegon and pulls him in for a hug. “Be a good lad and look after your mother, eh?”

He nods again, but smiles this time and says, “I will.”

Your sweet, precious boy, you should never have let him out of your sight. You’d never forgive yourself if anything happened to him. When the door opens, your head snaps up and you look at the knight, whose face is still badly swollen and bruised from Harwin. “Ser Criston, has my son been found?”

“The prince has been located; he and princess Helaena are in Godswood.”

Tears fall as you get to your feet. You brush by Criston, and the other knights mumble a thank you before going to the godswood.

—

“My sweet boy!” You kiss your son on the head multiple times, trying your best not to cry again. “God be good; you had me so worried.”

“I’m sorry, mother; Princess Helaena wanted to show me her bug collection.” His eyes were full of regret. “I told Uncle Tyland I was going with her into the godswood; I thought it would be okay.”

Bloody Tyland.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, my sweet,” you sigh. “I just didn’t know where you went and got a fright.”

You look around, surprised that there aren’t any knights nearby. You watch your younger sister, who was happily sitting on the roots of the tree, playing without bugs, and smile softly. “Helaena, don’t you have a sworn protector?”

She doesn’t answer you because she's caught up in what she’s doing. You were desperate to leave, but don’t feel comfortable leaving Helaena alone outside. You place your hand on her shoulder and ask, “Sister, did a knight come out here with you?”

The young girl flinches at your touch. Tilting her head up, she says, “He’ll always fly but never run again.”

“Okay…”

“Three rivers; three dragon heads; weaving the colors of blue, red, green, black, and white. But no, he will never run again.”

—

The adrenaline from fear and panic was still fresh when you stepped into the great hall. Food was still being brought to the high table, and your family was still sitting around it. When you got closer, you noticed Rhaenyra and your cousin's absence. But Jacaerys and Lucerys were sitting with Aerion and Ada.

You motion for your son to go join his siblings, then look to Harwin. “Are my sister and Laenor not joining us?”

Harwin wraps his arms around you in a comforting embrace. He kisses the crown of your bed; his touch offers a small measure of solace amidst the overwhelming feeling that something terrible has happened.

“Harwin?”

He whispers into your ear so that the children don’t hear. “Rhaenyra is trying to console Ser Laenor. A raven arrived from Pentos.”

“Daemon?”

“I’m afraid Lady Laena has died during childbirth.”

#house of the dragon #ser harwin strong x oc #Harwin Strong/oc #house of the dragon fanfiction #ser harwin strong fanfiction #broken bonds #broken bonds 3.07 #house of the dragon fanfic #harwin strong x oc #ser harwin strong fanfic #harwin strong fanfic #harwin strong #ser harwin strong x you #harwin strong x you

[kitkatopinions]

Just saw the extended animatic that was originally meant to end V9 and is now gonna get repurposed into the (possible) V10.

Let me just say, I still feel the same about the things I saw in the first animatic. I can now firmly say that Qrow has been replaced with a doppleganger same as Blake (I wonder if it's like a partial possession thing in this case where sometimes it's Qrow and sometimes it's the faker.) I hate the dumb Winter scenes about how disappointed she is that poor people aren't nice enough to her billionaire blue blooded mother in her silly little sunhat. I have no idea what the hell Raven is doing there. The 'Remember Her Message' thing is stupid because of how poorly done Ruby's message to the world actually was and what little impact Team RWBYJNOR has actually had on the world at large. And I still want to see Whitley without Willow for three point five seconds. And I'm still wondering why the presence of an army in Atlas was a sign of pure evil and was immediately seen as a horrifying threat but seeing an army in Vacuo is meant to be a sign of peace and hope.

But also, now I have more to say.

Like first of all, I'm even more confused on how Remnant managed to pull off any sort of army now that we know what remained in Vale after the Fall of Beacon got decimated. Where are they getting their army? From Mistral, where we know Leo had all the Hunters killed? Are we meant to assume that the people that showed up from Mistral are the cops Blake called on the White Fang? Or, maybe from Argus, even though we're meant to hate Cordovin and the Atlas military that was there? Second of all, this makes me even more annoyed at Winter for being like 'if my poor martyr sister could see how badly we're doing, she'd be disappointed,' Winter get realistic goals challenge 2024. Third of all, Team SSSN and CFVY made appearances and if I ever have to see Coco "based on a nazi" Adel ever again, it'll be too soon, but I still insist that it should've been just Sun, Neptune, and Velvet because none of their other teammates got enough focus in the actual show to be real characters. They could've been casually name dropped off-handedly and it would've been fine. Speaking of teams making reappearances, Neon is there, which means she didn't die in the Fall of Atlas and likely her teammates didn't either, but they had better have a full explanation in V10 for how soldiers on the field got back to the city and threw the portals, and it's weird that we saw Neon but not Flynt. Also can I just point out that "the people who were colonized by Atlas are being aggressive to innocent Atlas orphans and need to be told off" is a writing choice the writers didn't have to do, and considering all the whole history with RWBY and bigotry, I don't know why they did that. Neon and Nora had a moment though, and I was like... Ship material? Also, Tyrian and Mercury are working with the Crown, but... To be honest, if they don't scrap that in V10 (if V10 ever comes,) I'm gonna question their decision making even more, because they just did a new location with a new villain and it proved that this late in the game it's hard to set up or properly execute new threats, and if V10 ever comes out, it's a high probability that we're not ever getting a V11. So if you ask me, if they don't cut out the Crown, they're either gonna badly execute these new bads because they expect their fans to do homework to understand the main show, or they're gonna spend way too much focus on establishing them and the Mains will get sidelined again. Merc looks like a mess, though, and this would make me think a redemption arc is a-coming except that they're pressed for time like I said, so I'm not counting on it. The fact that I have to see Peter Port of all characters is also making me want to say a lot of bad words. Like I cannot emphasize enough how much I hated seeing him and his stupid face and how much I wish he'd never existed. What is this choice to not have the serious potential mentor character who had been part of Oz's inner circle come in and instead having the comic relief teacher who blathered about testosterone and flirted with an underage student be the one to break what should be devastating news that should by all rights get a lot of focus? And where the heck is Tai in all of this? Rip to Oobleck, but out of everyone from the Vale seasons, I would not have picked either of these men to bring back, I'd have brought in Tai and Glynda. It's just a bad choice. And still no sign of Maria and Pietro, so like... What the heck?

All in all, I thought before that I couldn't have less hope for the future of RWBY, but whoa buddy this extended animatic proved me wrong.

#rwde

[thankskenpenders]

I haven't really been posting about the IDW comics on here recently - the ask box being off means I don't get asked for my Hot Takes every issue. But I am, of course, still keeping up with them. I've been really enjoying this period of shorter stories jumping between a wider variety of characters (including the return of backup stories, finally!!!), as well as the juicy melodrama of Mimic infiltrating the Diamond Cutters. Good stuff with lots of good character moments throughout. And the Amy special was very cute. And the 900th Adventure was fun, even if I did think it was let down a bit by ending on its weakest segment after how creative a lot of the middle segments were.

Unfortunately, despite looking forward to it, I found the new Halloween Special about the Chaotix pretty underwhelming. I'm curious if anyone feels the same way. (read more for spoilers)

It feels very... kiddy-ish? I know Sonic is always for kids, obviously, but the IDW comics have pushed dark and spooky stuff quite a bit between arcs like the Metal Virus and Scrapnik Island, so I guess it stands out that the actual Halloween issue is an extremely low-stakes story about stolen candy without even, like, a cool spooky robot or some ghosts or a haunted house or something. Before long we learn that the villains are just other random kids who came up with a scheme to steal candy. They get a very blunt moral about sharing and not taking things that don't belong to you, really cementing the feeling that it was written for a younger audience than most of the other IDW comics.

The Endless Summer special was also very light in tone and low in stakes, though (even if that issue also had some character development for Jewel that felt like it gave it a bit more meat). Similarly, that special lacked any villains, instead using the Babylon Rogues as a nuisance on the beach and having the heroes make peace with them by the end. So I kind of suspect that these seasonal one-shots are intentionally being written for a younger audience, especially younger kids who might not be following the rest of the comics but might be swayed to buy a one-shot with the words "Sonic" and "Halloween" on the cover. I do feel like new writer Mark Bouchard captured the characters' voices well, though - I really love the exchange between the Chaotix on the very first page - so I'm hoping they can come back and write some more Sonic stuff that lands better for me.

Oh wait no the actual worst thing about the Halloween special is that everyone else gets to have a fun costume (Tails gets an absolutely incredible line about his that I won't spoil)... but Sonic doesn't! No costume for Sonic! He doesn't even get a line about him "going as himself" or anything to acknowledge it or turn it into a joke. I can only assume corporate interfered here.

The main series issue that dropped simultaneously (#65) was very good, though. Many, many incredible Knuckles faces courtesy of Mauro. So it's hard to stay disappointed.

[rivalry-trope-enjoyer]

Hi, can I please have Natasha (hsr) dating nurse reader headcanon?

Yes, of course! Ty for the request so sorry about the delay! I wanted to do a little bit of reading up on Natasha before I started writing <33

A Helping Hand

Summary: hsr Natasha x Nurse!Reader, fluff, mutual pining & dating hcs

What began as admiration for the other's hard work quickly transitioned into flirting between shifts here and there.

Natasha's very attentive towards the cute nurse that she works with, and she's been very perceptive of the little crush you've had on her. It wasn't hard for her to say the same!

Dropping a casual "sweetheart" and "dear" every time she calls for your aid just to watch you get a little embarrassed and stumble on your words.

After a long day at the hospital, Natasha tiredly admits how much you two would benefit from a wonderful night out to dinner, and with that sparked the start of a lovely dating life with the caring doctor <3.

You and Natasha are in a constant never-ending cycle of who is helping the other out, going out of each other's ways to aid the other in work. Lots of gentle "I'll take care of this for you"s "I'll do it"s and whatnot.

Acts of service is a very important love language for the both of you, especially in the line of work that's being done, it's nice to have a partner care for you as well!

Whether its sitting down outside to talk to each other after a particular difficult shift, or offering a quick shoulder massage, you'll always look out for each other.

You two make each other a cup of coffee or tea simultaneously to stay awake during the long hours at the hospital too! Natasha always laughs softly when she sees you have the same thing, giving you a quick peck on the cheek as a reward for your thoughtfulness.

Both of you look out for the other to make sure that neither one of you are overworking. Natasha just laughs and shakes her head if she sees you spreading yourself too thin, translating to "You should really take a break, dear."

However you'll also catch Natasha running around from patient to patient like a mad doctor, you can't help but sigh and gently persuade her to take a break.

Natasha watches you work - whether its aid patients, arranging linens or medications, she absentmindedly showers you with compliments and praise, causing you to feel a bit shy.

"Excellent work, Y/N *talking to patient* Aren't they an excellent nurse? One of the best, I'd say~"

"Thank you for all your help, Y/N, you are such a sweetheart. What would I do without you?"

Your relationship with Natasha started off as a little secret between you two.

Sometimes, Natasha would pull the hospital curtains to share a quick kiss before smoothly returning back to work. When you hand her medical equipment or crates of supplies the kind doctor brushes her fingertips against yours and follows up with a soft wink.

You thought you would be able to get away with it, but it wasn't until Hook and her little gang of friends caught you going on a break together and holding hands.

Natasha's soft spot for children made it a little difficult to lie to them, admitting defeat.

Now that the two of you were free from the ducking and hiding from any public display of affection, reminiscing it makes Natasha laugh from the silliness.

In the case that you two are out of the hospital, your days are filled with sleeping in and lazy mornings to catch up on as much rest as possible.

You go on dates walking around the quiet parts of the town, as some peace and quiet is exactly what the both of you need. Circling around the snowy plains as you chat amongst yourselves, enjoying each others company <3.

#x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr natasha #hsr imagines #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x you #hsr headcanons #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail #Nice to meet you I'm Natasha — an Underworld doctor. Feeling sick? Take a seat let me take a look #hsr natasha x reader #honkai star rail Natasha #honkai star rail Natasha x reader

[dirtytransmasc]

the little warrior (spider fic)

What if spider sacrificed himself for jake? what if his family was forced to watch him die? what would spider see in his afterlife?

based off of this post

mother/father is ronal and tonowari, mom/dad is zdog and quaritch. It just feels right in my soul. I didn't beta this, I tried, got bored, and y'all are gonna just have to be ok with that. more notes at the end. 

The shock of spider taking a bullet for jake was enough to stop the entire battlefield in its tracks. Think hector and patrolcus; the RDA had messed with spider a few times before and each time they learned only one thing came form messing with spider, and that was carnage. Spider was the heart and soul of the little platoon, he held it all together, bringing once enemies into one family. They knew that touching a hair on his head would get them all killed, but killing him? They knew to start saying their prayers. The intent was to kill jake, collapse the unit; whether it happened then and there or shortly after the fact, it hadn’t mattered to them. But now there was little hope any of them would make it out of there alive. 

The first to react was Ao’nung, his instinct to protect his baby brother cutting through the shock and hazy disbelief. He has to push past jake to get to his brother before he hits the ground, screaming, curses and prayers alike, all the while. He knows spider knew what he was doing, saw his face ease as he saw jake turn around unscathed, he hated it, hated how selfless his brother was, wanted to scream at him for being so stupid (he never dropped his grudge with jake, it had been months since spider became his brother, but he would never forget what led up to it). But as the fear and adrenaline catch up with spider, his face freezing up as he registered the pain, he can't help but pull him closer and slowly to the ground, trying to ignore the sharp smell of blood, his brother's blood. It’s ok, it’s ok, mama will fix it, I promise she’ll make it better. He frantically hummed an answer, clinging to him as pain blossomed in his chest like a crude burn.

Their parents and sister are quick to follow - a war-seasoned chief, a tsahik, and a healer in training - all 3 trying to stay calm for their son and brother, but its hard when the light and life is so quickly draining from his face. 

he tries to talk to them but between the pain and the blood pooling in his lungs, he can't get anything out. he seeks his mother's hand and his father's touch, but he can't ask for it and his strength is waning so he can't reach for it either. All he can do is listen to his mother's cries, and  focus on his sister's hands on his legs or his father's big hands on his chest. he knows his brother's holding his head up, he tries desperately to keep his eyes open, to follow his coaxing, even if he would much rather settle into the warmth of his hands and let sleep take him. But he knows it would upset him if he went without a fight, that it would break his parents hearts.

His mother is be praying desperately, unable to pull herself way from her child, but her mind too clouded with grief to do much else. Same with his sister though she was attempting to apply what her mother had taught her. His father and brother could only focus on the blood, all the blood, pouring from his chest and his mouth and nose; that and the tears they couldn't wipe because of the mask he so desperately needed. He felt his father trying to keep pressure on the wound but the bleeding went deeper then he could have any effect on, and ao'nung was trying to keep spider airway open so he didn't drown on the blood pooling in his mouth. It hurt. He wanted it to end.

spider can see from just behind his mother, jake and neytiri in each others embrace watching with distant eye as he suffers the same fate as neteyam. it made him feel sorta guilty, but if jake was alive, the battle would live on, and his family had a chance at peace. 

more faces, voices rather, join the scene. he hears his dad, hears reyzi screaming, but she doesn't grow closer. quaritch was struggling to hold her back, begging through his own tears for her to calm, that she could see him, she just needed to be calm for her brother. ravi and ro'eyk are standing next to their adoptive dad, ravi leaning into his arm, seemingly numb, though his anger is boiling him alive, and he's one wrong move away from ripping his skin off and using it to strangle his brothers killer to death. ro'eyk is similar to his brother, the craze in his eyes multiplying by the second as he is forced to watch his baby brother bleed out.

its quaritch who approaches his greiving family first, tapping tonowari's shoulder, their eyes meeting. 

he's too far gone - both of their respective glances say, though neither can voice it. "there's no exit wound, the bleeding is in his lungs," tonowari says quietly, trying to avoid the children's ears "the bleeding is slow, but the damage is done. it won't be quick, but he won't make it back to camp either…" 

quaritch nods, he couldn’t think about how much time his boy had left, or more so, how little. he kneels next to his son, the siblings gathering at his sides. Reyzi takes her brother’s hand, trying to smile when he weakly squeezes back; Ravi nudges against ao’nung, the two had grown close, helping the other boy shift their brother to lay between them; ro’eyk clings close to his dad, one hand holding onto him, the other on spiders leg. 

The sounds are so intense, people speaking, crying, praying, begging. everyone’s moving around him, people are moving him, someones putting pressure on the wound and it hurts like hell. 

his eyes float around; first to his dad, he’s crying, fingers fiddling with the braid behind his ear, miles had put in himself, the beads he carved by hands, spider never took it out. then to his brother’s, seeing his 2 big brothers embracing eachother, ao’nung hiding his face into the crook of ravi’s neck, both boys desperately trying to stay strong, ro’eyk eyes were analyzing him, trying to find a solution, because he was never one to back down. Then it was his mother and father that he looked to, the pain in his mothers eyes as she prayed to Eywa, as she held onto his body as if to hold him there; he’d never seen his father so distraught, like all his strength and was gone, his face no longer holding a sense of calm, there was only pain and anger now. His sisters both held a sense of rage, one he was very familiar with, reyzi wasn’t afriad to turn her anger on the world, but tsireya? He can’t think of a time he’s ever seen her truly angry, let alone filled with wrath, and he feels sorry that his death will introduce to such a horrible feeling. he tries to focus on jake and neytiri, but end up falling on the sully kids, more tears forming in his eyes; he was leaving them again, he was leaving lo’ak alone, kiri without her person, tuk with one less big brother, again. his breaths come fast and he starts to shake as sobs force their way out of his broken body realizes they’re all here, they’re all going to watch him die. 

he's scared, he feels so alone, despite being surrounded by people, because his vision is going and he can barely feel or hear a thing. he just wants to be held, he doesn't care about the wound anymore, he just wants someone to make the cold and pain go away. 

he must have made some sort of noise, a sign of discomfort because the aching stopped; whoever had been putting pressure on the wound let up a little, then his dad is talking to him, leaning over him to speak into his ear, I love you, he says gently, trying to hide the shake in his voice, I love you so much, and spider wants to say it back, he wants to cling to his dad and beg him to make it stop, but he can only stare up at him, weakly nod his head, let the tears fall down his cheeks. He hates this, he hates it so much. 

He closes his eyes for just a second, trying to ease the tired ache in them, but then he hears his mother shriek, feels her hands on his face, my son, she cries over and over again, great mother please, please do not take him. He feels his gut churn as he remembers what neytiri had said the day she lost neteyam. He watches his father try to comfort her, but he knows it would be no use, nothing quells the pain of a mother’s grief. 

He tries to speak again, but chokes, and his chest burns with something awful, he feels his brothers tense beneath him, sobs coming from the younger of the two. He wants to tell her that its ok, to bring her comfort like she has for him the last few months, anything to bring her any amount of ease. Shhh, my child, it’s ok, don’t speak, his father comforts, not even attempting to hide his pain, only focusing on easing his child. Spider tries to not be angry, tries not to scream at the situation; he’s dying and he can’t even say goodbye to his family, can’t talk to them, his body won’t let him, they won’t let him try, it’s not fair. 

There’s movement at his side, his dad is leaving, he doesn’t want him to go. His eyes track him as he scoots behind his brothers, both like his sons in one way or another, wrapping an arm around both of them, ro’eyk joining there little group hug. Reyzi stays where she is, holding his hand, and the gap left by his dad and brother is filled by his mom, 2 of the strongest woman he has ever known embracing eachother like life lines. He’s really happy to see her, he just wishes she wasn’t crying. 

She doesn’t hesitate from kissing the top of his head, pressing her forehead against the mask, the gap between their faces made by the glass lets him see the anguish on her face. How’s my strong boy doing, she says, trying to smile, lighten the mood, despite the pain it causes her. He’d say he’s right as rain, just like she did, but he knew he couldn’t, didn’t think it was worth trying. So he did his best to push into her, to make his need for her comfort known, pulling a sob from his lips as he strained to be closer. She peppered any skin she could get to with kisses, knowing she couldn’t hug him or hold him as she wanted, not without hurting him even more. I’m so sorry, my little soldier, I’m so so sorry, she says to him, as she tries to figure ouu where to put her hands, settling them against the sides of his face. He doesn’t want her to be sorry, his choice is what got him here, her being there wouldn’t have stopped him. 

He hears ikran, assumes the other recoms had spotted the vigil from the skies. He’s pretty sure he heard his mom say something about them letting her go to her boy while they handled the remaining RDA soldiers who hadn’t given up. He saw all of them, all their ikran too, that was good, that meant his family was ok, all of them, that was good. 

Mansk and lyle had gotten close to the sully kids, lo’ak in particular, as kiri was more often too busy her own world to pay them any mind, and neytiri kept tuk close to her, so spider wasn’t surprised when he saw his brother break from jakes hold, running into mansk’s side, accepting lyles arm to hold onto as well. Kiri followed, now that she knew she could in fact wander from her parents grasp without getting pulled back, though she went to zdog instead of following her brother, sitting opposite to reyzi. Hey monkey boy, he wished she said it like she aways did, not in the sad defeated voice that she had. though one thing was the same as always, she had her hand over his heart; she said he was na’vi in his heart, that his body didn’t matter, that to eywa, he would be her child just as much as she and their siblings and the rest of their family were. 

The thought brought him comfort, that he would be with eywa soon, with the people his family had lost over the years. He didn’t want to trade out one for the other, and he definitely didn’t want to think about his family joining him, but there was some amount of peace easing his heart to calm, his breath to come a little slower. Part of him knew that shock was taking hold of him, but chose to let it happen rather then fight it, the calm eased his pain, the lack fo fear let his muscles relax. 

He could tell people were shifting again, which meant more goodbyes, more words he couldn’t understand, more tears. He thinks its jake at his side now, neytiri behind him, tuk somewhere in the mix (he can hear her voice, though he can’t see her). I’m so sorry kid, shouldn’t have been you, you should have let it happen… none of this should have happened… I’m sorry I didn’t apologize sooner. Hearing jake apologize was weird, he never expected one, part of him wanted to keep thinking he didn’t deserve one, cause it was easier to forget what his life used to be like, then to dwell on it. Then tuk was hugging his neck before he could even form a reaction to what jake had said, forcing him to change his chain of thought to her; she shouldn’t be here, not on a battlefield, not watching another brother die, he wanted to push her off, tell her to run and keeping running till she was free of the smoke and rubble. I don’t want yout to go, you already left once, why are you leaving again? She asks, and he has no answer. Why was she still here? 

Someone pulled her away and lo’ak took her place, he looked conflicted, and spider knew why; he didn’t want to regret his last words. Lo’ak was haunted by what he said to neteyam, he didn’t want to suffer that again. I see you, all of you, spider. You will always be my brother, always have been, and no matter what, there was never a moment I didn’t love you, even when I was angry and even if I didn’t act like it, I always love you Spi. even if it was hard, he hung onto every word, he could do that for his brother, after everything, he could do him the decency. He tried to quirk his lips up into a smile, hoping lo’ak would find comfort in it, but lo’ak only started to cry harder, hovering over him, why did you do that, you skawng, though he was probably attempting to scold him, there was no anger in his voice. 

Eventually his brother pulled away, squeezing his shoulder before he rejoined the recoms who were both silently mourning and keep watch over the vigil. they didn’t do goodbyes, so he wasn’t surprised or even disappointed, he almost liked it better this way. He knew they mourned him, knew they would die to avenge him, he didn’t need them to go out of there way to do something that would only bring him more pain. He doesn’t even think he would be able to understand them had they tried.

His last few moments are hazy, his pulse in his ears, and the tears in his eyes so thick he can just barely make out the beginning of eclipse. He knew he was in his father’s arms, he wasn’t talking, not words at least, spider almost thinks he might be humming; it's a song sung to mighty warriors when they fall, as a way to tell them they can rest, that war is over. He knows his mother is next to her mate, sleep now, my little miracle, she's crying, he can barely tell what she's saying, you were the greatest gift I could ever be given, thank you, for being my son, for every moment we shared. his eyes burned, she was thankful for him, when he should be thankful for her, it wasn't right. he was slipping, thinking about his mama took his  away from his focus on staying awake, and suddenly his dad was talking, I'll take care of her spi, don't worry, you go on now, everything will be alright here, his dad comforts, knowing spider is more worried about her than himself. his dad was across from his mother, the both of them holding his hands, their own hands over lapping. He knows zdog is next to him, whispering I love you, over and over again. 

his brother’s were at his head, he could feel someone tucked into his neck, another pressing their head against his, I love you, I love you so much my brother, don't- (you have have to let him go) I… I'm gonna miss you, I'm gonna miss you so much, ao'nung he thinks, then Ravi, then ao'nung again. Ravi was taking care of the younger boy. good, he thinks, his brothers won't be alone. His sisters are gathered at his feet, collapsing in on one another; reyzi’s stiff upright posture and cold, thousand yard stare sticking out eerily amongst his hazy recollection. Kiri looked… peaceful wasn't the right word, she looked like she accepted it, she had tsireya and tuk pulled into her sides, Reyzi was behind her, accepting no comfort; he was sure that if he could get his eyes to focus he would see her wringing her hands, pulling her fingers until they hurt. he wished she would be able to move on, he knew it wasn't possible, it wouldn't be possible for her or her brother's, no matter how well they were holding themselves in the moment. Lo'ak was pacing the stretch of land that acted as an opening to the aclove, he was cursing, punching at the rubble, he didn't deserve this, not again. 

he saw the recoms standing gaurd as well, someone was trying to keep Lo'ak from the rubble, earning a sharp jab to the ribs, which was redirected into in awkward hug of sorts, but he couldn't tell who it was anymore. 

he couldn't tell who anyone was, his vision had faded to much. he whimpered, felt the burn in his chest as a result. he felt like he was sinking away, like when you have the bad dream of falling into the abyss. he was scared, he was so scared, he didn't want to die. he tried to grip onto something, but he's not even sure he was moving, but he felt his bubble get tighter, he tired to remember be wasn't alone. 

the last thing he remembered was a choked cry, probably his mother, and then nothing.

then Neytiri, smiling at him sadly amidst of bright white. no, no it wasn't Neytiri… it was Neteyam, his big-little brother - spider was technically older him, by a little over a year, but aged slower, hense earning him the title of little- big brother and Neteyam the opposite - standing a few feet away from him. 

"I didn't expect to see you so soon." Neteyam talks in a way that is much older and much wiser then his age lets on, more so then he did in life. he keeps his smile, but his voice and eyes let on his sadness. 

"neither did I," spider makes no attempts to move or interact more than he needs to, not until he knows this ain't a trick of his dying mind

"why did you do it, you could have let dad take the hit, he had a better at surviving it," 

"I wasn't letting another person get shot in front of me." 

"It wasn’t your fault brother,” neteyam stepped forward, placing a hand on spiders cheek, wiping a tear he didn’t know was there. 

“Am I really dead?” he asks, wanting to accept that this was really the end, he needed this to be the end, because he couldn’t stay standing much longer. 

“Yes… I’m sor-” Neteyam tensed at the question, 

“No, no thats… that’s good, was just worried… worried I wasn’t gone yet and that my mind would start playing tricks on me.” he closed the gap, leaning into the taller figure, he was tired, he was so tired. “Please, ‘teyam, please tell me this is real.”

He felt himself being pulled down, surrounded in a ligth warmth, almost like a blanket of sand warmed by the light of the sun. he kept his eyes closed, unsure if he wanted to see the space around him, if he wanted to know what would be there. He just clung tight to his big-little brother and prayed The Great Mother showed him mercy. 

“Its’s real, I promise you it’s real, open your eyes.” 

When he did, because he trusted his brother, he was home, he was on a familiar beach, the beach his father would take him to, it was on the far side of the village, a place only really known by the chief and his family. 

“What is this place, spi, it’s the place The Great Mother thinks you should rest, tell me about it.”

“This is where tonowari told me I was his son… it was the family beach in a way… its where me and ao’nung would train and tsireya taught me the stories of our people, where mother taught me to heal. This is my home.” he was too caught up in the relief to think about how neteyam may feel about him considering someone else family. 

“You deserved more time with them, they were good to you,” he spoke softly, tracing his finges in the sand, “you were meant to be theirs, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re brothers. It’s ok spider, I’m happy that you were happy with them, you deserved that.”

“You saw?” 

“Everything, had to watch over you and my other skawng brother, ao’nung too, make sure you didn’t get into to much trouble; though it doesn’t seem I kept that from happening… I watched you all, you did good brother.” 

His stomach dropped. He knows, he knows what he did, why wasn’t he angry.

“I saved him… why aren’t you angry?” 

“Because you were right. You felt the good in him, you saved him, and then let him pick his path. You saved him, all of them, preserved life; thats the way of eywa. By saving him, you brought them all together… and evne if you didn’t, even if he didn’t change, he was your dad spi, he did better then our- my dad… you had every right to want to save him. I can’t judge you for that.” 

This felt wrong, something wasn’t right, there was no way this was going to be this easy. 

“I… I don’t understand.” 

“You will, it takes time.”

“Time?” 

“Eywa will show you what you need to know to find peace, sometimes you need to see what happens first. You were bound to kiri for a reason, you were bound to tonowari and ronal for a reaosn, you were bound to the recoms for a reason. She will show you, it just takes time.” 

Neteyam was holding him by the shoulders now, pulling him into a hug once more. Spider thinks he was crying. “You don’t understand yet, but I am so proud of you spider.”

That’s when spider cracked, he couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t stay strong. He crumbled in his brother’s arms, letting him hol all his pieces together. He falls apart into the sand, as his brother moves away from him.

“I have to go now, so do you,” his brother says distantly, spider only catching a glimpse of him before he disappears. 

Before he can even call out for him, he hears another voice, one much more ethereal, layered and consisting of many tones; “you have places to be, my child.”

“What?” he searches the beach for a source, but comes up with nothing. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am,” the voice shifts, sounding almost like his mother

“Mother?” 

“The Mother of mothers I suppose,” the voice was closer to what it had been before, though it kept its feminine pitch

“Eywa.” his voice was more a whisper then anything else, unsure of what should have been obvious. 

“Yes, my child,” a woman appeared, emerging from the forest that surrounded the beach, she looked like his mother, which made some sense. She could look like anything, different to each person, so of course she would take the form of the woman he loved and trusted the most in his life. 

“Where am I going?”

“You ask too many questions, always have,” she smiled, an airiness to her voice, almost like a laugh, “what do our people believe?” 

Oh. “Every person is born twice,” 

“That’s right little one,” the deity came closer, her ‘hand’ caressing his cheek.

He felt his heart begin to race, how that was possible considering he was dead, he didn’t know and didn’t care. He didn’t want to go, he wanted to stay with his family, with neteyam. He wanted to find the other’s, kiri’s mom, his mother’s spirit sisters, his ancestors; human, omatikaya, and metkayina alike. He’s so tired and just wants to stay here, just for a little.

“Don’t worry my child, you,” she points to his head, his mind, “will stay here, your soul,” she points to his chest, “will be reborn. You will rest, but your fire, courage, and loyalty will be given back to the world. You were born to be a great warrior, it is ingrained in you, and you fight for me and all of pandora with all of yourself and all of your strength. You will be sent back to finish what you began, to the end of the war. You will protect you’re family, and you will have my guidance to do so, that I promise.”

He was confused, unsure of how the whole ‘born twice’ thing worked logistically, but he knew better to argue with a mother, let alone The Mother. So he suppressed his weariness, his longing for his family, and accepting Eywa’s task. Little warrior, gift of Eywa. what were once terms of endearment now had meaning.

“Yes, Great Mother,”

“Your mother taught well, she is a good tsahik, her and your father, even the lost spirits that make up your dad, you call him and your mom,” hearing the Na’vi goddess use english words was so unnerving, and he found himself grinning a little harder then he should, and she grinned back in response, “they prepared you well, very well.”

“They did, I am forever greatful for them”

“Of course you are, you are a grateful child, your heart is larger then most, its what a great warrior, the respect you have for the enemy, even when you feel such immense hatred. It is what lead you to save him, what lead your siblings to him, what turned the tides of this battle. It is what made you protect the Toruk Makto, despite the battle he put you through so young. It is you’re heart that will live on…are you ready?” her words were so motherly, it sounded like a story he would hear from his mother, except it was no story, not yet, it was his life. 

“I think,” he was honest with her, he had no idea what was going to happen, and therefore could not honestly tell her if he was afraid or not.

“When your soul is sent back to your family, finding a place to be reborn where it is needed most, you will join your ancestors; you will watch with them, both your living family and your ancestors, you will learn to be a guide as they are and when your soul has returned to you, living its second life, you will be a guide as well. Do you understand my child?” she explained with care.

So that’s what his brother meant, he will see in time, learn what he most learn, be show what he must be shown. He would watch the remainder of his family’s lives, watch the war, watch the effects of his actions play out. He would watch his soul live on, finishing what he began. He would learn from his ancestors, everything he needed to know. Maybe he would learn from his Mother as well, he couldn’t assume this was the last he would be seeing of her. He felt ease wash over him, his Mother embracing him fully now. 

“You will be reborn to her, that I promise. Good luck little warrior.”

And with that the figure disappeared, he felt something leave him, more then just Eywa’s presence, and suddenly he was alone, still on the secluded beach. He had a feeling he had a lot to figure out, and that the tulkun calls in the distance were the calls of his first teacher, Roa.  

~~~

So a few things. The only people I’m sorry for right now are fictional. chest wounds under the right circumstances can be slow inevitable death sentences; I milked that for every ounce of angst I could (his death took at least 10-15 minutes of agony just for a little perspective for him and his family; they couldn’t do anything so they just had to watch him fade). Finally, the only explanation for why the siblings don’t go hog wild immediately (this explanation is for all of 3 people, you know who you are/pos) is because their civility is directly linked to spider. If they don’t stay calm, there will be no stopping them, and they didn’t want spider to see that; basically, the only way they stopped themselves from going ballistic, was to go numb, practically comatose, which will fuel their anger later.

I kept the dialogue limited to put the reader in spider perspective, he’s so out of it he can really only hear what's being said when he’s putting effort into it. Just because the dialogue isn’t mentioned doesn’t mean its happening, which is my nice way of saying; he’s being talked to the whole time, he just isn’t “hearing” it. This is the same for character focus, he’s only really able to pay attention to the activity around him, so characters are only really mentioned when they are actively interacting with him/are the main point of his focus. angst via writing style is my favorite flavor of angst I toiled with the ending of this for like 3 days, I don't love it love it, but I'm content with it. I have complicated feelings for how the spirit world works in canon (as far as we know) and how I want it to work, so we're just gonna take the mess that I created and enjoy it. also eywa is based on my interpretation of our world's 'true mother' who takes many forms and names in different mythologies; think, fun mom, who's crunchy in the cool fun way. like will drive her kid to the ER at 2 in the morning for running a fever, but will also slather them in essential oils the entire way there. is the cool mom that everyone loves and always wants to hang out with. like I didn't want her to seem overly untouchable, so I made her have a mild sense of humor. so enjoy that

#I nearly lost my mind writing this #I am not at all writing a characters death from their perspective #which considering how much angst I write is like hella surprising #avatar 2 #spider socorro #avatar the way of water #miles socorro #miles spider socorro #quaritch #avatar spider #spider avatar #spellman siblings #hi'i'tsyil te fkew'weopx tonowari'itan #spider tonowari'itan #ronal #tonowari #ao'nung #tsireya #kiri sully #lo'ak sully #neteyam sully #tuk sully #sully family #jake sully #neytiri #recom squad #corporal wainfleet #recom wainfleet #lyle wainfleet #prager

[flowercrowngods]

Steve is staring at the letter in his hand, the words blurry and trembling, but he knows them by heart. They’ve burnt themselves into his eyelids and wandered into his brain, leaving behind traces like bark beetles, eating into him until he’s forever marked.

August 23rd 1987

To: Mr. Steven Harrington

Bearing in mind that there is a promise to never reach out to any of you again, I cannot bear the thought of keeping this from you. There is a way for you to forget. To start over. A new identity we could help you create, a new chance at a life without nightmares and memories of the “Upside Down”.

An offer, if you will. A final peace offering, a showing of gratitude and the least we can do. There have been tests run for over two years. No damages to the rest of the brain, no future memory impairments; a selective memory loss, as we call it.

If you want to forget, you know where to find me.

Dr. Samuel Owens

Steve takes a look around, his hands still trembling around the letter, and he finds only good things. Pictures of himself and Eddie, of Wayne, of Robin and the kids. Sticky notes they left for each other and decided to keep as decoration in the kitchen, Eddie’s van out on the driveway he can see through the window.

Only good things. His. His life.

So why is he crying? Why has he been obsessing over this for two weeks when everyone else just dismissed their letter? Nancy considered it, he knows. But she told him that she refuses to forget about Barb, that she can’t lose her like this, too, and Steve gets it. Eddie sat down hard and frowned at the letter before loudly declaring bullshit. He has this thing about identity that’s linked too closely to memories, and Steve saw that coming, too.

But he can’t. He can’t just drop it, he can’t…

He can’t keep living like this.

Which is why he’s been talking with Dr. Owens. Which is why is hands are shaking so bad. Which is why, when he hears the front door falling shut, the sob finally breaks free from his chest. He’s nauseous, he’s scared, he’s so fucking terrified.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie is by his side in a second, crouching beside the chair and taking a hold of his wrists in a comforting manner. Eddie’s hands are always warm. Steve wonders if they will stay that way when he’s…

Eddie freezes, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut. The silence is never ending, and Steve’s going to throw up any second now.

But then Eddie speaks again, and his voice is so small, so kind, so gentle, it makes Steve want to tear himself out of this universe and far away from everyone who dares to love him. He doesn’t deserve it, not when he’s made his decision.

“You’ve made your decision, haven’t you?” Underneath all that kind understanding, Eddie sounds as terrified as Steve feels, and they’re both shaking now, both trembling, both fighting their tears.

Both, when soon it’s gonna be each.

Because Steve won’t remember there’s ever been a both. A they.

He won’t remember and it’s making him nauseous — but not as nauseous as his nightmares, not as nauseous as the guilt, the memories, the constant fear and obsession.

“Yeah,” he whispers, falling from his chair as Eddie pulls him into his arms, rocking him back and forth. “I’m so sorry, Eds, I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, shh, it’s fine, Stevie. You’ve… You’ve been there from the start. You’ve been there longer than me, I won’t understand the shit you’ve been through. You deserve to— to start over. To live your life, Stevie, because you deserve the best one, okay?”

Steve’s shaking his head against Eddie’s neck, holding on, breathing him in, and he doesn’t want to do this anymore. He wants to stay here for the rest of his life and make it count, make it be worth something even though he isn’t.

“How long do we have left?” Eddie asks then, hoarse, and Steve hates himself for stealing Eddie’s voice like that.

“One month, I think.”

God, he feels so hollow. Hollow is all he ever feels anymore when there’s not guilt or fear eating away at him. Eddie knows. Maybe he’s known all along.

“Let’s make it count, then, hm?”

And they do. But all of time runs out eventually.

#steddie #sad steddie #stranger things #memory wipe fic #post season 4 #i’m sorry #dio words #stranger things fic #steve harrington whump

[yanderelmk]

Okay uhm hmmm

How about headcannons with MK, Mei, Red Son, Macaque, Wukong, and maybe Syntax

What if the reader kinda just disappeared for like a month. No trace of them left

Then they come back from vacation because they needed a break from the yanderes. Of course they would never know that

(You can ignore if it’s too troublesome-) ✨

A/N: Got so long I had to make a Part 2 sdighidof ---------------------------------------------- MK: - Absolutely inconsolable, constantly trying to message and call you to find out where you are -Extreme anxiety over whether you're safe or not, worrying if one of the demons got to you -Begins to fall into a depressed state thinking he got you hurt and/or killed -Can't sleep because all he can think about is that you might be out there waiting for him to save you but he can't find you. This is literally his nightmare scenario -The SECOND you come back he's clinging hard like a puppy and not letting you go. Constant calls and texts. I imagine especially during/after LBD he has serious separation anxiety so you just dropping off the face of the Earth for so long was massively bad MEI: -She tried to use every tech trick she knows to track down your location, the second she gets a ping she is going AFTER you, if you avoided her for a month it was likely at a place with no cell service -Would've been heavily stalking your social media for any tiny hint about where you were, analyzing whose posts you recently liked to see who might know where you are -Second you enter city limits she is going to ZOOM when you cell phone pings off the nearest cell tower -Clinging. So much clinging. Your arm is hers and she's not releasing -She may or may not bet trying to figure out a way to bug you so she can track where you go RED SON: -Red Son had bull clones sweeping the city and surrounding area the second he realized you were gone -Started going through a whole mourning arc thinking that you must have died, swearing that whatever brought about your end would know no peace so long as he had breath in his body -He's going to be FURIOUS when you come back and reveal that you went traipsing off without telling him - "I THOUGHT SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOU! Do you know how many enemies my father has accumulated over the years?! I could not sleep or eat, I worried that somehow in some way they knew of your connection to me and were torturing you!" -You're gonna have to do a lot of making up to him, though of course he would never leave you, he'll just demand to know where you are every second of every hour of every day until his anxiety over the matter calms -He's gonna get so fed up with worrying that you're going to run off every time you leave for the store, but he has a solution! -WOE, INTO THE BASEMENT YE GO MACAQUE: -When he notices you're gone after the first few days, he began sending out his shadow clones to find word of you -He begins panicking more and more when he realizes you're not in the city -If necessary he'll have as many clones as he can make scouring the whole country for you -When he does find you and realizes you're safe, that you just left without telling him, he's going to be enraged -Just keeping you tied up in his cave isn't good enough. Oh no no no. -You'll be kept in the Lantern as punishment until he feels like you've learned your lesson, and then you'll be kept in his cave for the rest of your days

#lmk #lmk yandere #yandere lmk #lmk yandere headcanons #lmk yandere x reader headcanons #lmk yandere mk #lmk yandere mei #lmk yandere red son #lmk yandere macaque

[mac-audcheese]

so i’ll probs draw this later but i came up w some things for the garroth levin hc mkayy

so i don’t remember who said garroth would be levins dad but their idea was the old lords wife was lonely and sought comfort in garroth, leading to an affair that resulted in levin

i think when aphmau found levins mom, she actually told her levin was the father hoping they could have some relationship (side eye), so when aphmau returned, she told garroth and zoey but no one else so the villagers didn’t see them as a couple. garroth would have a hard time processing this as he has no memories of the last lord but would happily accept levin as a son. despite having to keep it a secret he’d absolutely adore taking care of him, happy to have a real son esp after zenix runs away.

unfortunately after the whole betrayal thing, no one has any idea garroth was at fault, so they all imagined him to be a fallen hero along with the group that disappeared with him. levin would grow up to admire garroth, even more so once zoey revealed that he was his father, swelling levin with pride that his parents had been so beloved by everyone. he’d work so hard to be just like garroth - attempting his sword techniques, having similar personality traits, protecting his loved ones to the best of his abilities just to imagine how proud garroth would feel if he’d seen him following in his footsteps.

this would not last forever, of course, after aphmau comes back from the irene dimension 15 years later. almost as soon as he’d see aphmau walking through the rebuilt village of phoenix drop, levin would ask where garroth was as well. aphmau, not yet processing all that has happened, would shakily explain the situation to her family, more so trying to make sense of it all than ruin fantasies, and would in turn absolutely shake levin to his core. how could his idol, his father, have done this to his mom and everyone around him? how could he ruin so many lives, just because his mom didn’t feel the same way?

levin would be sick, this would violate his entire being. for a long time i don’t even think he could look in the mirror without seeing the man who took away his entire childhood. who was he? i think this would prompt him to change his entire identity, from his hair to his morals, just so he didn’t have to feel like that monster. he’d like to be more like aphmau, but levin doesn’t even know her, only stories zoey had told him since childhood that gave him some sort of comfort in identity. except now, he can’t relate to either of his parents in any sort of way, completely stripping the hopes and dreams he once had.

in the end i think the only people he’d truly consider family would be zoey and malachi, as they were the only two to be there for him when he needed it. even with his real mom back in his life she’d still venture off and leave him alone a lot, so instead of letting this hurt him, he’d silently cut her off to keep peace of mind. malachi and zoey would definitely disagree with this, but they can both understand where he’s coming from enough to let him make this decision. aphmau would have no knowledge and never would, just to keep her from trying too hard patch things up for his sake only. and garroth would be,,, absolutely dead to them. all of them.

shoutout to @laurencezvahlslefteyebrow for coming up w the garroth dad thing, i’m sure other ppl have brought it up before but their post so opened my eyes

#erm teehee finally letting this out of my brain #i bestow unto levin the power of trauma #he will have a lot and he will hate himself #yaaaaaay #aphmau #aphblr #aphmau mcd #garroth #minecraft diaries #levin mcd

[bitchubby]

farmer!bakugou x chubby reader

N.A: I couldn't stand it and tried to write something about it. I hope you like it and sorry for anything, I'm still getting the hang of things around here.

N.A.2: Some parts were based on real events 💀💀💀

Imagine our chubby reader who, tired of city life, decides to move to the countryside.

As in stardew valley, we can say that she received the farm as an inheritance and had no better opportunity to leave everything in the city and go towards the quiet life she needed.

She really thought life would be calmer, but things didn't start off too well.

How she did everything on the spur of the moment, didn't plan much or even research about the city or how to plant something lmao

She just went. very impulsive, so to speak.

It all started to go wrong when she was late at the bus station to find the bus and ended up missing it.

And the break was 4 hours because the fleet was ridiculously small 💀💀💀

(I know a lot about this, my journey is at least 2 hours and the fleet I use only has 3 buses 🗣️🗣️🗣️)

The poor was moldying at the station.

When she arrived in the city, the dirt floor was obviously very rough and unstable.

And she had 2 huge suitcases 💀💀💀

The sun hitting her head and the poor thing just "ok, I can do it. I've faced worse in that motherfucker's office."

Another 30 minutes of walking, long puffs and a lot of dripping sweat. Any vestige of "beauty" at that moment was already blown away.

There is no base that can hold a 39° sun on her head.

When she finally sees the end of the dirt road and the farms starting to appear, chaos ensues.

Halfway there she sees 3 cows and thinks "ok, cows. This is a rural place, obviously there would be cows somewhere." And she keeps walking.

But the path was rather narrow and two of them occupied the passage.

She stops and watches, wondering what to do. With two large, heavy suitcases.

She decides to go through the bush with one and then another. And it initially worked.

She walks past them with the first one without making much of a fuss. And she passes with the second.

"God is always good." She thinks.

When she doesn't even walk 200 meters, she hears a very loud moo in the distance, where she had come from and when she looks back...

A horse. Unruly and crazy. Simply running.

The cows start running towards our reader and she ???what now???

Just drop your bags and run.

"There won't be any Dior foundation to use if you die." She thinks.

There comes a time when she realizes that there is nothing else to do but throw herself in the woods and she doesn't think too much beforehand.

She hears another trot and suddenly her field of vision is filled with muscular arms twirling a rope, wild dirty sandy blonde hair and a face with not very friendly expressions.

Eyes as sharp as a katana look at her there, lying on the ground and overgrown in places that only God knows, and a clear sneer is heard.

She doesn't know if she feels horny, ashamed or angry.

Horny over your not-so-innocent initial thoughts, shame over your current state, and anger for the same reason.

Ensnared, the horse finally stops running, but the cows follow the horizon.

"Is that horse yours?" You ask as you get up and try to get the grass out of your clothes.a.

Mas bakugou não responde.

Ele está muito ocupado amarrando seu cavalo a uma árvore e se perguntando se vale a pena gastar sua saliva com mais um turista idiota que decide se aventurar no campo.

"God, maybe the horse was right to run away." You exclaim heading towards the disaster that left your suitcase.

"What did you say?" His thick voice sends a shiver up his spine.

"Apparently, besides being rude, he's deaf." You bite.

Oh, sweetie. For what?

"Bull"kugou, as many call it, is known as the biggest bitch in town. Always grumpy and stressed out about everything and everyone. Nothing escapes. Animals, people, plants. He's always kind of hard to deal with, especially for tourists.

imagine you hope to find peace in the countryside and suddenly comes a blonde hurricane?

It is no wonder that he is responsible for scaring so many people away and is constantly taking calls from the mayor for affecting the local economy with his outbursts of humor.

But you had a shitty day.

And since you were in hell, why not sit on the devil's lap soon?

and there is none better than a devilish blonde.

"Listen here, little girl." He starts and you soon cut to the chaotic state your clothes are in.

"Listen here you! Look what your crazy animal did? My bags, my clothes, my things!" You start poking and gathering your stuff on the floor, all dirty and/or broken. "Your fault."

Bakugou gets close to his stuff and kicks a book with a shirtless man's cover.

"Junk and more junk." He keeps poking at his stuff with his foot. "Are you going to some kind of 5-star ranch or has the shit in town gotten to your head?"

"For your information, I'm coming to live here." You respond by throwing your stuff into the destroyed suitcase.

"You? I doubt it." He raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, making the hard-worked muscles increasingly bulge and visible. "Must be just another city snoop who pet an animal and thinks he's become a farmer."

"How about you go fuck yourself?" You answer and watch him duck.

"Alone is no fun." He sees your bra and directs his hand to grab it, but is stopped by a slap from you. "What the fuck is that?"

"Don't touch my stuff."

"But I was just going to help you." he laughs. "Who would have thought that these little hands would have this strength, you can work on my ranch now."

"Thank you so much for the offer, but I'm not interested in anything coming from you."

As you watched what you could salvage from your stuff, bakugou stared at you with a shitty face. You thought he was just a country troublemaker, after all, you were used to dealing with a few in the city. Being a big girl there wasn't easy, and as much as they said that in inner cities was different and that girls like you were really appreciated there, you doubted it a little. Life is not a fairy tale for a girl like you.

But you didn't let things like that get you down. When they came with one stone, you came back with three.

On the other hand, Bakugou was really wondering if it was worth scaring you like he was used to doing with the other unwanted visitors. After all, you weren't that undesirable to him. You was pretty, plump and had that acidic tongue he liked so much. Even a little messy and with grass in your hair, he thought you were pretty.

Even more so when you had that expression ready to throw whatever came your way at him.

People didn't usually have the guts to stand up to a guy as well built like him, let alone curse him like you did.

If anyone who knew him was afraid. Guess who doesn't?

He was mildly shocked when you told him to go fuck himself right off the bat, but he managed to disguise it and get around it just fine.

"You're going to have to improve your manners." He talks loving seeing your face contort in disbelief. "Around here people are solicitous anyway."

"I hope you're not including yourself."

"You'll have to get used to one man poking his nose into other people's stuff too. Small town stuff, you know how it is, right?"

"Are you still talking?"

"Your attitude too, you'll have to improve." He gets up and starts walking away. "Well, anyway, it's going to be a pleasure."

"What?"

"to be able to tame one more animal by the reins." He laughs walking away. "I'm not just rude and deaf, you know? I'm also a great tamer."

"A-ANIMAL?!"

#chubby reader #fat reader #plus size reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x female reader #bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

they’re definitely going to bring up the huntlow ship by the end of the show because hunter is SIMPING hard but i really want them to do something interesting with it. i don’t want them to just get together with no drama aimed at each other. so what i propose is: a deconstruction of the last-minute love confession trope.

hunter spends the second or even third episode blushing after willow. but willow doesn’t flirt or blush at him, just encourages and hangs out with him like she would her other friends. and at the end of the second or the middle of the third episode, the gang is gearing up for a huge battle with belos, the collector, or any other villains they’ll have to confront. everyone knows it’s dangerous, so there’s a lot of sweet moments between friends and family where they make peace with some of their conflicts and reinforce how much they care about each other. lumity and raeda both get an “i love you” or a kiss.

hunter pulls willow aside and confesses his feelings. he says he has a crush on her and asks if after they defeat the villains, they could go on a date. maybe he gets out a plant glyph and makes a bouquet. it’s very cute and reminiscent of a lot of love confessions in movies and tv that characters do right before a battle.

but willow FREEZES. she’s only thought of hunter as a friend up to this point, and hunter dropping this bombshell during the most stressful day of her life really isn’t helping her decide how to answer him. she has to recontextualize all of their interactions up to this point. and whether she eventually decides to date him, she can’t make up her mind at that moment, because she’s never even considered dating hunter before.

because the “last minute love confession” trope only works out well if the two characters have been pining and basically knows the other’s feelings. it’s a good way to clear up the air in that situation before a dangerous fight where they might not get a chance after. but if only one side has/is aware of their romantic feelings, the last minute love confession becomes solely a way for the person confessing to get it off their chest. it doesn’t matter if the person being confessed to wants to know about these feelings or reciprocates, the confession is sprung on them without prior warning, and now they have to think about that on top of the dangerous battle.

so before willow can give hunter an answer about that date, everyone has to get in position for the fight. and during the fight, willow is DISTRACTED. she knows she needs to focus on the fight, but she can’t help but think about hunter’s confession from a few minutes before, regardless of whether she reciprocates. and at one point, willow gets a clear shot to take out the villain or rescue one of their friends or whatever the goal of the battle is, but she MISSES.

if hunter had confessed a few hours or days earlier, giving willow time to come to terms with it before the battle, or if he had waited until after the battle to confess, it would have been fine. but he tells her at the WORST possible time, so willow has something else on her mind during one of the most important battle of her life. and because of that, everything goes very, very wrong.

#toh #the owl house #shut up pandora #hunter toh #hunter noceda #willow park #this isn't to say willow would blame hunter for distracting her #shes too nice her first instinct is to spiral into the 'im a horrible incompetent leader and i shouldnt do anything ever' mentality #but regardless of if she likes him or not love confessions are distracting! they make you blank out for a bit! #it ends up being all you can think about for the next hour at least be it out of flattery or happiness of discomfort! #and ive always disliked the trope where someone confesses to their love interest right before or during a battle like #now? your love interest is going to get hit by an arrow because youve distracted them #and the worst ones are the ones where they confess by kissing the love interest without prior warning #sometimes its unclear if the love interest is even interested and i know its for drama! but could you do that at literally ANY other time #it just feels cruel to the love interest you know #like the person confessing is getting stuff off their chest but they have no regard for how the love interest is feeling #if they reciprocate theyll have to go into a deadly battle knowing if they die they wont be able to continue a relationship they really want #and if they dont reciprocate it puts the burden on the love interest to turn them down and go into the battle being emotional about it #that may just be me though #anyway after that it doesnt really matter if the huntlow ship actually gets together #again i still dont ship it but if they do something interesting with it like this then it has a place in the story #but to reiterate it doesnt matter if willow has feelings for hunter in this scenario just the confession would be enough to distract her #and to those of you compiling screenshots where they stand next to each other #or where willow smiles fondly at gus and hunters shenanigans and say its only because shes in love with hunter #and basically trying to TJLC yourselves into believing willow is madly in love with hunter at this point of the story #she...really isnt...... #at least not yet #does she even seek him out to hang out when hes not with gus #does HUNTER even seek her out to hang out when SHES not with gus #lowhunt