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crimson-rain-smoked-flower · 2 years

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I’m not trying to attack you, but do you know that proshipper means someone who supports and romanticizes pedophilia, incest, and abuse? Your reblog on that post seems to read that you think antis just hate on people for having ships they don’t like. But it’s completely different than that. Just looking on the proshipper side of Tumblr and the internet and you can see people happily shipping children and adults and making nsfw content of such things.

i appreciate that you're not being outright hostile, but i have to say, that on its own put you above basically every anti i've interacted with.

i understand where antis are coming from, i really do. there are a lot of things on the internet that make me deeply uncomfortable, including the minor/adult ships that you mention. i don't want to anything to do with those kinds of ships and i would be happiest if i never saw them again. which is why i'm proship.

nine times out of ten, if i see that kind of ship brought up on my dash, it's because i was following an anti without realizing it, and they brought it up unprompted and untagged, to talk about how bad it is that they exist. they are the ones putting that kind of content in front of my face and making it harder to avoid.

the thing about people who ship those ships is that they're generally very aware that not everyone wants to see that kind of content, and so they tag it. they make sideblogs to talk about it. they don't go out of their way to shove it in people's faces. that means i, and everyone else who doesn't like it, can avoid it.

what antis want is for it to not exist at all. they want the tags to be purged and blocked, and for anyone who uses those tags to have their accounts deleted. and sure, that might get rid of some of it, but do you know what would happen to the rest? it would stop being tagged. people who don't want to see it wouldn't have the tools to avoid it. this isn't just a hypothetical, that's what's happened any time a fan space has tried to do that.

that's not even getting into the rabbit hole of what should be banned and what shouldn't. obviously any content that depicts real children or real life abuse shouldn't exist and shouldn't be allowed to be posted, but basically any platform that people use already enforces those policies, and there's not much of a slippery slope to go down there. if it involves real living breathing people being abused, it's bad. end of discussion.

but the same can't be said for fiction. ask ten antis for a specific list of all the content that should be banned, and you'll get ten different answers. what about kink? what about roleplay? what about horror and murder and anything that involves fictional characters being graphically tortured? what about people using art to process terrible things that have happened to them? what about art that uses dark themes as a horror element? if you just want to ban anything questionable to anyone, that's the line of thinking that gets any mention of lgbt existence banned. and again, this isn't just a hypothetical, this has happened before, and that's generally where it leads.

i know, from personal experience, that antis do, in fact, send harassment to people just for shipping things they don't like. i've gotten accused of absolutely vile shit for shipping two fictional characters who were both consenting adults. i've seen ship wars turn into moral battlegrounds, over ships that an average person wouldn't bat an eye at.

the thing about "romanticization" is a whole other can of worms. the anti logic goes like this: if someone sees something (even if it's very obviously fictional) in a positive light enough times, they will start thinking it's okay in real life, and go on to hurt real people. the problem with that is that it's just. blatantly untrue.

if it were true every horror movie fan would be a serial killer, every person that studies dark media would be an unhinged psychopath, and everyone who is into ddlg would be a pedophile. but they're not. they just aren't. people have directed movies just as fucked up as the darkest shit on ao3, and are still capable of being normal human beings who know right from wrong in real life.

even if someone is that impressionable, scrubbing away the existence of every piece of questionable content isn't going to solve their problem, because they're still going to be vulnerable to con men, scams, and cultists. the only thing that would actually materially help someone like that is developing their own morals and critical thinking.

children are also more impressionable, and there's a lot of content that's not suitable for them, but that doesn't mean that content shouldn't exist. it just means that they should stick to spaces designed for them (which most social media sites, tumblr included, are not) or, if they're old enough to be responsible for their experience online, they, or a trusted adult in their lives, should block and filter out things that they aren't comfortable with.

which is what everyone on the internet should be doing. it's what i do, and it's made the internet a much more pleasant place to be. and it's why i sometimes worry for antis mental health, especially teenagers, because they're being told it's right and moral to seek out content that makes them uncomfortable and to engage with the people making it. and that's just. really bad. it's not good for the creators that they're harassing obviously, but it's also really bad for them! it's not healthy to seek out things that make you feel bad, and it's a terrible internet safety lesson to teach minors that it's okay for them to seek out and engage with people making adult content.

individual harassment and crusading is never going to succeed at removing dark content from the internet. it just isn't. at best you might get a small percentage of people who create that content to stop sharing it, at worst you're just going to make people stop tagging it, and either way, you're exposing yourself to things that make you feel bad, when you don't have to.

if you want to materially change the type of content you see, you can. the block button is your friend, use it liberally. same with content filtering and tag blocking.

#oops this got really long #cd.ask #proship #disk horse #tw pedophila mention #uhhh what to tag #tw shipping discourse #this doesn't even get into the antis that i've seen proudly professing that they care more about fictional characters than real people #because i don't know how to explain to someone that real humans matter more than cartoon characters #or how to avoid content on platforms other than tumblr bc frankly thats a lot of the reason i don't use them #i don't trust an algorithm #also im turning anon off after posting this so if you want to send me hate you cant be a coward about it #also be prepared to get blocked and ignored #the only reason i answered this person is bc they weren't being hostile

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ooffmlsorry · 5 months

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OP Men Dating a "Girly Girl"

A/N: sorry this took so long and I haven't posted anything original in a minute my life is mess and I'm so very tired jfc...I know this isn't more than my usual group but I was just gonna stop at Luffy and then decided to add Ace and Sabo as a thank you because writing these and putting them on Tumblr has been really good for me, so thank you for always being here to indulge me 🥲 ❤️

Sanji, Zoro, Law, Luffy, Ace, Sabo

Sanji

Let's be honest, girly-girls drive Sanji craaaazzzzyy (not that all women don't, but he's definitely more partial to the feminine ones) Your make-up, pretty skirts and dresses, jewelry, and manicure, he can't help fawn over you constantly 😍Although you do it because you enjoy it, it's nice that your efforts are so appreciated!!

He spoils you soooo baaaddd!! He literally can't help himself when he sees something pretty or cute that reminds him of you, he has to get it for you. You're drowning in squishmallows at this point.

A river of blood shoots from him every time you show off a new outfit. You're going to kill him and he'll thank you for it.

Dressing up in nice outfits together, especially on date night, is a shared activity that you love to do together. Y'all are living your best happily ever after lives.

Ya'll definitely have scheduled self-care nights. You put on some slow music, open a bottle of wine, draw a bubble bath, all that.

He's utterly useless when it comes to helping you pick your outfits or makeup if you're stuck because he loves you in everything, it's too hard for him to pick. You're his perfect, beautiful Y/N-swaaaaan 😍💖💖✨

He does love to see you in pink or red though so he might default to those colors

Don't try to test your makeup on him lol, you're going to re-awaken the gender identity crisis...I mean Kamabakka trauma

Listen...I'm not saying Sanji has a mommy kink...I'm not even at Whole Cake Island so idk wtf is going on there. All I'm saying is if you give this man a bath, wrap him in a towel to dry him off, and rub him down with luxurious lotions and oils, you might awaken something...that's all...👀

ZORO

He has no clue wtf you're doing. If it weren't for the fact that there's no proof that witches exist in this world, he'd think you are one

He looks at your vanity full of serums, creams, scrubs, lotions, etc, not to mention the makeup and he's like "??????" Just completely baffled

But what do you expect? This man would use that five-in-one Irish Spring soap if he could.

Just because he doesn't understand it doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate and admire the fact that you have extensive knowledge in something he can't even comprehend

He knows you like nice shiny things, and again, while he doesn't get it, he does think it's really, really cute when you go starry-eyed over a necklace or an outfit in a store.

In the same vein, he knows how much you love cute things and animals. He has absolutely found a cute animal in the jungle, picked it up, and brought it to you just to show you because he knew you'd love it.

Sometimes in his own gruff way he'll agree with you that it's pretty cute. Thank you for helping this manly man admit things are cute and that's okay.

Other times, he's the one making sure you don't get distracted because it's so cute

Unfortunately and fortunately, you're pretty to him no matter what you do to yourself so it's all kind of a moot point to him.

You can try to ask him about which 'x' to wear, sometimes it's helpful because he'll throw out a really practical answer and then other times he's like "How 'bout you just go naked" 😏.

He'll wear a face mask with you like...twice a year. And he's going to bitch and moan about it but he does it because he loves you. The entire process is like trying to give a cat a bath "WHY IS IT SO COLD? THIS STAYS ON MY FACE FOR HOW LONG???"

Exfoliate this man at your own risk...I'm dead serious that water is going to be brown

LAW

I need you to know right now this man will let you paint his nails!!! I mean, not like gel or acrylics or anything, but he'll let you paint them any color as long as it's a dark shade of that color. You once designed Bepo on his middle fingers. He did in fact flip people off a lot more often when he had them.

Let's you wear a pastel boiler suit because you he loves you and wants to see you happy

Much like Zoro, he's got no clue what you're doing. He'll stand back and watch you while making the exact same face as the gif above.

He thinks he's being stealthy peaking around a corner to watch your morning or night routine, but you quickly catch on. Please please pleeaaassee ask him if he has any questions because he does. He's just really curious why you're doing what you're doing and what it does. It's basically skin medicine and he's really fascinated.

Knowing that you like shiny things makes his life admittedly a little easier, it's not that he doesn't think of what to gift you, he puts A LOT of thought into what he gives you, but knowing that earrings, necklaces, and bracelets always make you happy is great just in case of analysis paralysis or he forgets. Sorry.

Also you wearing the jewelry he gets you does something to him, especially a necklace he can pull on a little, mmhhm you're making this man struggle with impure thoughts.

You both love cute things, it's something y'all connect on. It's really good that you help him access that very neglected inner child of his and encourage him to coo and fawn over adorable animals with zero reservation.

He'll do skincare with you too when he's not super busy. He can admit it's kind of nice to sit in bed with a book, glass of wine, and a face mask and just bask for a minute

He acts like he hates when you rub serums across his face and use a derma roller on him but he loves it

Law doesn't really pay attention to your clothes, but when you really go all out he breaks out in a sweat and he can't keep his eyes off you.

LUFFY

I'm not saying he thinks it's stupid, it just...why have an hours long care routine when you could be going on adventure with him??? 😭😭😭

He will help you pick out your makeup but don't expect it to look good. You're gonna end up with neon orange eyeshadow and green lipstick. Like literally every "My Boyfriend Does My Makeup" youtube video.

Plays around with your stuff but that's because he has no idea what all these strange contraptions are. The moment you try to explain his eyes glaze over and next thing you know he's whisking you away to go do something more fun.

He likes the shiny bright stuff (highlighter), makeup probably is the only part he even remotely engages in because it's

Explain how contour works to this man and watch him lose his fucking mind, he thinks you're a shape shifter now (honestly this applies to all of them except Law and maybe Sanji)

He never notices what you wear, Nami is gonna have smack him on the back of the head to get him to realize you put on something fancy

Luffy points out everything, it just so happens that things he points out sometime happen to be cute animals

Hides in all the stuffed animals and squishmallows in your room to surprise attack hug you

*throws mud at you* "Is this the kind of mud you like, Y/N??" He really means well though.

You know those hair masks with all natural ingredients like honey and banana? Yeah, he's gonna start sucking on your hair like spaghetti...I'm so sorry.

He'll bathe with you but that's because he wants to be close to you, it's definitely not about being pampered or relaxing.

Try to put a face mask on him or something else and it'll just become a game of tag around the Sunny. You can't catch him and he's having a great time outrunning and outwitting you.

He knows this is all important to you so even though he doesn't get it he'd never make fun of you for it and the moment someone calls you "extra," he's kicking their ass.

ACE

Maybe all the glam is a little silly to him but that just makes you extra cute!

He will also absolutely let you paint his nails. Hell, he'll let you do a full beat on him just for fun and he'll wear it for the whole day because he's so unserious lol

...As long as he gets to do your makeup after...Much like Luffy you're gonna be covered in neon colors that don't even remotely match, but you guys have a great time lol

Admittedly likes to be pampered by you when he gets back from a long mission.

Please take a bubble bath with this man, it's not like the water is ever going to get cold!

I'm pretty sure you'd legitimately lead to Ace taking better care of himself. Got this man out here talking about his cuticles and shit lol

Honestly, it's really good for him because self care leads to self love and Ace needs a lot of help with that.

He tells Pops about all the stuff you do 1.) because he loves you and 2.) he hopes some of it will help Whitebeard heal a little, god bless him 😢

All of your hardwork doesn't go unnoticed, he legitimately gets kind of misty eyed when you really dress up because he's so so so lucky. He swears he doesn't deserve you.

He always brings back some kind of gift even whether it's a cute plushie or something exotic to wear from all of his long travels

I need to stress how much this means to him, everyone of these things is like a little proposal because he already knows you're it. Every little gift is leading up to a ring from this man.

He's also just genuinely impressed by the skill it takes to do your makeup so well, especially after he tries doing it on you

Much like his little brother unfortunately, he does play with all the little contraptions in your vanity, especially in the beginning because have you seen an eyelash curler? He's so confused lol

SABO

Sabo and Ace truly are his brothers because he really don't get all the effort lol

Admittedly, a lot of that is because he thinks you're so hot already what's the point???

Once he gets this is just how you are he's less confused, he's probably the most normal out everyone. He lets you do your thing, although he's really curious how you managed to always look amazing while being in the fucking revolutionary army!!?? Where are you getting the time???

If someone were to intrude on y'all on a free afternoon you're both in fluffy robes with face masks on and Sabo loves to pretend to act like a bitch when he's in selfcare mode with you lol

"Are you seriously bothering us right now, ugh! I can't even right now!!" And then you both break out in laughter

He really thinks you should teach others how to contour and do makeup because it has great applications for disguises and infiltration.

And brags about your skills to everyone

Wonders how many of your makeup supplies could actively be used as a weapon *eye roll* jfc Sabo

There's a part of you that secretly worries all your boujieness will remind him of his blood relatives, but he assures you that it doesn't because you have a good heart and he never doubts that

Besides, being a little extra with him helps him associate those things he used to associate with his blood relatives with you instead so it's even better

He spoils you so bad, but with a Sabo-flair, ie. stealing from shitty people and bringing it back to you because you're oh so more deserving of nice things let's be honest

He gets jealous of the cute animals that you squeal over hehehe, please hug him when he starts pouting

He'll always wear a little pink just for you ❤️

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x reader headcanon #luffy x reader #law x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #ace x reader #sabo x reader

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semisecretmission · 2 years

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I played Simulation Theory today while I cleaned and it’s been a while since I’d listened to the album (it might be my least favorite Muse album tbh) and wow I’d forgotten what an absolute banger Thought Contagion is

#this post brought to you by the fact that I might see them live again this summer #Muse #Simulation Theory #Thought Contagion

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stevebabey · 1 year

Text

no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!

—

Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.

It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.

They’re little, but they’re there.

The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.

“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.

Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.

Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”

He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.

Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.

From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”

It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”

Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’

Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.

“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”

Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”

Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”

That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.

There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.

The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.

“What did I say—”

“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”

“Literally how many times do I have—”

“Oh my god, you were right—”

“ —before you realise I’m always—”

“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”

“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”

“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”

Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”

Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“

Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.

Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.

He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away.

Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.

“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”

Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.

“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.

His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.

“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.

“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?

He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.

—

Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.

He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.

He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.

Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.

It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.

To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.

After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.

He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.

Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.

That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.

Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.

God, he was glad she suggested it.

Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.

‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.

Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.

Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.

But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.

The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.

Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.

After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.

Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.

Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.

It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.

But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.

There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.

So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.

Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.

“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”

Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”

Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”

And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.

Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.

He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.

“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”

Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.

She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.

Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.

“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.

“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”

Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.

And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.

“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.

And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”

It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.

Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.

Eddie sees the bid coming this time.

Part Three.

—

yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.

@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus

#OBLIVIOUS STEVE IS MY FAVOURITE!!!!#idiots in love #they're so important to me ur honour #on god am i gonna make them KISS #but steve's gotta figure it out first lol #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #i think i can call it a fic now lol each part is 3k+ i think #steddie fic #IF U WANTED TO BE TAGGED AND I DIDNT IM SORRY #lest i come off terribly egotistical i need direct instructions to tag lmao #even then i tagged sum people that just said 'can't wait for part 2!' which? isn't?#I DUNNO #i went off vibes someone said they were vibrating so i was like get over here the next part is here #one of these tags is just a steddie blog i love.... and they reblogged part 1 #corrodedcoughin <3 i love u hehe #the stobin bestie love SHINES in this #i love them so much they are BEST FRIENDS!!!#if u have any ideas... i do love reading the tags and seeing what people want to see next ! im fuckin making it up as i go lol

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forever-rogue · 9 months

Note

Imagine you and Eddie aren’t like official but just fuck around allot and you’ve stolen one of his shirts. One night you fuck around with some other guy before going to a corroded coffin gig and when you go up to hug Eddie he can smell the different guy on his shirt and he gets so jealous 😮‍💨 I live for jealous Eddie

AN | Stopppp, jealous Eddie?? Jealous rockstar Eddie?? Yes please! Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language, Mentions of Sex

Pairing | Rockstar!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Eddie!" You were breathless from giggles as he tickled your sides, keeping you pinned beneath him, "stop! Have mercy!"

"Hmmm," he stopped momentarily, hands settling on your hips as he brushed his thumbs along your soft skin, "why should I?"

"I'll do whatever you want," you promised, smile saccharine and eyes still heavy and soft from the orgasm you were coming down from, "promise."

"I can't say no to that, pretty girl," he brought his hand to your face, tenderly brushing his knuckles along your cheek. Your face turned warm as you looked away, unused to the extraordinarily tender gesture. Usually whenever you fucked it was just…fun. But this was something more, "promise me we'll do this again."

"You already know I can't say no to that," you grinned, reaching up and putting your hand on his chest to push him off you. There was something about the moment that was getting to be too much, too intimate between the two of you, "now get off you sap."

"Baby," he groaned as he watched you slip out of his bed still naked, bathed only in the moonlight that was streaming in through the window.

"Baby," you chirped back at him, reaching into dresser drawers and pulling out one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers. You slipped them, almost oblivious to the fact that Eddie's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets, "I gotta go, but I'll see you later?"

"Stay," he patted the empty side of the bed next to him. The one that should belong to you, if you weren't so reluctant to stay…ever. You bit the inside of your cheek, wondering if it was best to go or if one night of post-sex cuddling was going to break you, "what's the harm, huh?"

"Edward," he huffed at the use of his full name but his heart skipped a few beats as you came back over and slipped under the covers next to him, "you better stop or I might start to think you're catching feelings."

"And what if I was?" He angled his body towards yours, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his frame, "would that be so bad?"

"Eddie…we've talked about this," but you still laced your fingers through his and squeezed them, "you're not here half the time and it's just…what's wrong with what we have? We're friends and we have fun. Let's keep it at that."

“Y-yeah,” he swallowed down every other thing he wanted to say and just nodded before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You shifted around so you were turned towards him, his handsome face almost hidden completely. You leaned in and kissed him, trying to quell any of the odd sensations both of you might have been feeling, “we’ll do that.”

“Can I keep your clothes?” you laid your head onto his pillow, inhaling deeply in order to memorize his scent, “that way I’ll remember you while you’re gone.”

“Fuck yeah,” there was definitely something stirring in his belly at the thought of you wearing his clothes. It was absolutely a primal and savage sort of possessive feeling, but it ran deep. At least when it came to you, "'sides you look way better than me in them."

"Whatever, handsome," you scoffed lightly, "you'll call while you're gone right?"

"So long as you come to the last show of the tour," he practically preened into your touch as you brushed his roguish curls out of his face.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," and it was true. You knew you'd miss him for three months he was gone, but when he was back it would be magic. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever, right?

"Good," he kissed you once more, softly and differently from how he normally did. It wasn't that he was never gentle with you, he often was, but it was clear that something was different tonight, "now get some rest, princess."

"G'night Eddie," you closed your eyes as you snuggled further into him, warm and comfortable and feeling more confused than ever, "sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite."

If this was supposed for be just sex, why did this feel like anything but?

Ugh.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It felt like it had been forever since the last night you’d spent with Eddie. Since the last night you’d had sex and cuddled for hours afterwards. You were missing him like crazy, despite how often he managed to call you; you almost thought that he was actually making it a point to call you (he was). Often you found yourself laying around and waiting for his calls…they were the highlight of your day.

“You could always just tell him that you want to be more than just friends,” Steve pulled you out of your thoughts as you clutched at your now rapidly beating heart. Steve flicked his rag at you as you scoffed and tried to think about how to even respond to that, “instead of just lusting after him.”

“I don’t…” you trailed off and start aggressively cleaning the espresso machine, thankful that it was a slow evening in the cafe, “we’re just friends!”

“Friends that like to have sex with each other-”

“Exactly!”

“And happen to have feelings for each other.”

“Wait, what - no,” you couldn’t face him. You knew his big, curious eyes would be able to see right through your lie. It was a quality you both loved and hated about him, “it’s not like that.”

“Mhmm," he didn't believe you for a second, "whatever you say."

"I'm not lying, Steven," your insistence was cute and made him smile even harder. He loved seeing his best friends in love - it was even better when two of his best friends were in love with each other. He was going to make this worth it.

"Then why haven't you been dating since he's been gone for so long?" He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, "I thought you liked going on dates."

"I do, ugh! I just haven't met anyone worthwhile recently," you were almost positive that was true. Steve wasn't buying it, tutting at you, "the dating scene has just been…dry lately."

"Mhmm…"

"Don't do that!" You threw your rag onto the counter and held up your hands in exasperation, "I hate when you do your little mhmm thing like you just know everything going on in my mind! There's nothing to this. Nothing. Eddie is my friend, we have sex, and that's it! It doesn't have to be more than that. Can we please just drop this?”

“Yes - yeah, sorry,” some of his cheer died down as he nodded. He hadn’t meant to upset you but he had been so sure that you really had feelings for Eddie and vice versa. He just wanted you to be the happiest possible, “consider it dropped.”

“Thank you,” you offered him a small little half smile that was more disconcerting rather than encouraging, “now - do you and Robin want to go out for drinks this weekend?”

And just like that the idea of Eddie left your mind again. It was easier to ignore the nagging feeling that was growing at the thought of him as long as it was pushed far from your mind. He was still going to be gone for almost another month. By the time he got back, you could surely have put him out of your mind…and feelings. Most importantly you needed him to worm his way out of the part of your heart that he occupied almost entirely.

Ugh This was only getting harder.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur and it was definitely by choice. You started going on dates every weekend and even some week nights. They were guys you’d met either out and about, a couple were through friends, and the rest were chance encounters when you’d go out for the night. Most of them were so unmemorable that you couldn’t even recall their names.

The worst part of all was that you didn’t even care about knowing their names or anything about them. At the end of every date or as soon as the sex was done your mind kept wandering back to him. To Eddie.

Steve and Robin, among others, were definitely growing more and more concerned with every passing day. You weren’t acting yourself and if anyone even mentioned it, you’d just ignore it or just play it off. You were fine, nothing was wrong and you weren’t doing anything wrong. If anything it was a weird coping mechanism. Besides all of that, you were sure that Eddie was likely doing the same thing. He was a rock star after all, partying and hooking up with groupies was commonplace.

The night before Corroded Coffin’s hometown show you’d hooked up with a guy named Matteo (you were sure that was probably some hipster name he’d chosen for himself) that you had met at a bar. He wasn’t anything special, good looking and well dressed in a very typical way, but nothing to write home about. In a few days you’d have all but forgotten about him. His best quality was probably that he was good in bed, giving without expecting anything in return which, with most men, was a rarity.

And yet, you still couldn’t help but compare it to Eddie. Eddie was the best you’d ever had and he was well aware of that fact. He always left you wanting more, and there was a small, wicked part of you that couldn’t help but imagine you were in bed with him when it was someone else. You might have even called one of them by his name…yeah. That one hadn’t ended well.

But this one night stand had turned into a whole day stand, where the two of you barely left your bed, opting inside to stay inside and have sex. The fact that this was the night Eddie was back from tour and playing the last show ...absolutely had everything to do with it.

Before you left for the show you’d thrown on a pair of cutoff shorts and the t-shirt you’d stolen from Eddie the last time you’d hooked up. Prior to making it out the door, Matteo had convinced into have another quickie and you decided that there wasn’t anything wrong with it. As soon as you were done, however, you kicked him out so you could finish your hair and makeup before going to the show. He’d practically begged for another date, or for you to at least call him, as he left and the best you gave him was a little half hearted sure.

You weren’t going to call him again. You were both well aware of that little fact.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You attended the sold-out show with Robin and Steve, the three All those of you in the VIP section in the front. There was something about Eddie’s stage presence that practically made you swoon; he owned the stage, just like he was meant to be there. You were positive that a few times he caught your eye, somehow managing to pick you out of the crowd, and that made butterflies explode in your tummy.

All those months of working to get over him were undone in a two hour set, and you felt like a lovesick puppy all over again. Well, fuck. Back to square one again.

Your eyes were practically glued to Eddie as you watched the band play; you felt mildly bad for not appreciating the hard work the rest of the boys were putting in but yeah. You were a pathetic sucker that happened to be in love with her best friend. You could admit that much by now…you'd never admit that to anyone else but to yourself it didn't taste so bitter. Instead it was saccharine and sweet.

After the show, the three of you made your way backstage, and your heart began to pound harder with each step. Each step brought you closer to him. You willed yourself to act natural.

But when you got backstage, Eddie was already standing there and waiting, or at least you presumed so, for you. Every ounce of self control that remained in your body suddenly left at the giant grin that Eddie offered you. Robin and Steve exchanged a look and a nod before slyly making their exist; it was all in your hands now.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you could feel Steve and Robin's eyes bouncing between the two of you. And then you decided - fuck it. He cocked his head to the side, and eyebrow raised in amusement, "what? No hello?"

You ran over to him, almost knocking him over into the process but Eddie managed to catch you. You wrapped your arms tightly around him and he reacted in kid, his hand soothing up and down your back.

"I've missed you so much," it was easier to confess than you'd thought as you pulled back from him. You were beaming up at him, but he didn't appear to be returning the sentiment. You grow worried as a scowl tugged down the corners of his mouth, "w-what's wrong?"

He tugged on the collar of your shirt, and shook his head, "have you been fucking someone?"

The growl in his voice sent a delicious shiver down your alone. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before cringing slightly, "umm, listen, I - it's kind of complicated."

"Who was it?" He repeated, his ringed hand going to your jaw and forcing you to look directly at him, "tell me."

"Well, this one's name was Matteo…" your answer was not enough to satiate him at all.

"This one?" He echoed as you shrugged sheepishly, "how many were there?"

"Like…eight-ish," you dropped your voice so he almost couldn't hear but - he heard you loud and clear.

"Ish?"

"Nine," you threw your hands in his exasperation as Eddie took a step back, laughing in anything but amusement.

"You fucked other guys while I was gone," he wasn't even asking, rather telling you, "why?"

"I, umm, thought it would be fun? Needed something to do," you could feel his eyes boring into you, "and you were gone."

"Silly, foolish little thing," he trailed his fingers along your jaw before shaking his head, "you don't get it, do you?"

"G-get what?" He brushes his thumb along your lip, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

"You are mine," he stated firm as you inhaled sharply, "you belong to me. Not anyone else."

"But Eddie-"

"I can smell him all over you," he tugged on the black shirt again, "you have a lot of nerve fucking someone in my shirt, pretty girl."

"I didn't-"

"I think it's time to teach some lessons," your cheeks warmed up at his words and found yourself unable to say anything else, "and remind you that you're mine."

"'m yours," and there it was. Out in the open and just so easy. It felt so right to say. Eddie smiled wolfishly as he nodded.

"It's about time you got there," his voice dropped to something softer as you just nodded, "baby, I've been wanting this, you and only you, for so long now."

"I-I think I've known," you swallowed the lump in your throat, "but I just…I just couldn't face it."

"Why not?" He took your face in his hands and gently looked you over, "hmm?"

"I was scared," you confessed, "I am. I don't want to fuck this up and I don't want you to hurt me."

"I'm scared too," he whispered, "but I'm never going to hurt you, baby. Promise you won't hurt me?"

"Never," you laughed softly, a gentle smile on your face. The last thing you'd ever do was hurt the man you'd been in love with for longer than you'd care to admit. He was everything, "I could never hurt you, Eddie."

"I know," he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "but now - you're coming with me. And I'm reminding you just how much I love you and that you belong to me. Yeah?"

"Y-yeah," you agreed eagerly, "but wait - Eddie…"

"Hmm?"

"I've missed you so much," your voice was small as you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too," he pressed a kiss to your cheek in return, "so glad, pretty girl."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st #rockstar!eddie

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zzleeper · 1 month

Text

Good

Jason Todd x Nurse!Reader

MAJOR hurt/comfort

authors note: tbh i do not put as much effort as i should when i write these fics so pls forgive any errors. ty to the internet for providing me with tutorials on how to heal burns :)

ALSO this happens after the end of under the red hood. if you dk what happens basically the building everyone is in explodes and jason is probably incredibly emotionally vulnerable

CW: wounds and burns

words: 2227 . playlist/vibes

There’s the squeak of your window opening, and despite the fact you know it’s Red Hood, you pick up the baseball bat you keep beside your nightstand.

You had met Red Hood at a side job of yours. As a nurse in Gotham with dogshit pay, sometimes you’ve got to have some more questionable sources of income. You were stitching up some criminal who’d been beaten to half a pulp by Batman in the back of some sketchy club/drug dealing front, and he had caught your eye. Later, you realized he was probably there to fuck with the guys in the area once the men you were patching up started muttering about “The Red Hood” like if they spoke too loud he was going to hear them.

He’d played into your advances, flirting back with as much enthusiasm as you had arrived with. It was flattering having such a fine-ass man show interest in you. It didn’t matter how genuine it was since he had proven how good a lay he could be a week after that when you two had found each other again at another base of operations for another gang.

Every other time he always found you. He probably knew where you lived before you brought him back to your apartment. And he never took the mask off. It was a little weird, how attached to it he was, but it’s Gotham, and you’re fucking with a criminal. You’re lucky that, as far as you can tell, he’s not an escapee from Arkham. He didn’t touch the mask, and you didn’t say anything. Maybe he was super disfigured or something. You didn’t care; he looked good and fucked good, so nothing could’ve been that bad.

Red Hood always left before you’d even fallen asleep. The post-orgasm haze was enjoyable until he untangled himself from you and left without saying goodbye. It was always a silent affair every time he left. He was so committed to leaving that he refused to stay the night during a thunderstorm, deciding to brave thunder and rain instead of sleeping in the same bed with you

It didn’t hurt, but it was a little disappointing. You had never defined your relationship with Red Hood, but you knew he wasn’t interested in anything but sex. You were, though. The dull ache in your chest every time he left was nothing unexpected; catching feelings, or at least thinking you are, is a natural progression of fucking someone once every week or two. It’s a pattern you’ve found forming every time you’ve tried to have a no-strings-attached sort of relationship, even if you haven’t even seen his face before.

Creeping out of your room with socked feet, you shuffle toward your window and flick the light on.

Your bat clatters to the ground, and you can see Red Hood flinch slightly.

“Oh my god, what the fuck happened?” You gasp in shock at the state of the man who’s just broken into your apartment. Red Hood is beaten and bloody and clutching his side. You can see blood oozing out from the gaps between his fingers, but that might just be from how burned his hand is. His mask is just gone. But he’s still wearing a domino mask over his eyes. Bruises bloom everywhere on his face; his eyebrow is sluggishly bleeding into his eye, which is puffing up under the mask. He’s leaning against the wall beside your window, looking more like he collapsed.

He groans quietly in response as you rush over to him, collapsing on your knees next to him, “Got in an–” He coughs quietly, that’s not good, “An explosion.”

You want to suggest a hospital, but you know that he would immediately refuse and–if he could walk–probably just leave. Talking to Red Hood in vulnerable moments was like coaxing a feral cat.

“Okay,” You mumble, “Okay,” You know how to do this. Maybe with more people and more hospital equipment and not in your apartment, but you know how to do this.

“Alright,” You shuffle next to him and wrap an arm around his torso, maneuvering his arm to rest on your shoulders, “I’m going to lift you on one, okay?”

Red Hood nods, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Hey,” You snap, nudging him with your shoulder, “Stay awake–and deep breaths, alright?” Shuffling into a crouching position, you adjust him slightly, “Three, two, and one,” You both grunt in unison as you lift him up and off the floor, “Up we go, come on.”

Stumbling to the bathroom, you nudge the door open with your hip and carefully sit Red Hood on the toilet with you crouching between his legs. He droops in a way you’ve never seen before. Red Hood has always been so confident, holding himself high, but right now, he looks bone-tired, something sleep can’t fix.

He feels raw and broken open, something thick with sadness and tragedy oozing out of him, and that’s not just the blood. You cup his cheek to make him look you in the eyes, “Tell me what hurts, honey,” You say, the endearment slipping out as if you’re talking to a patient. Or someone you love.

Red Hood pushes his face into your hand, making your heart squeeze in your chest, “I think I broke a few ribs, definitely a concussion too,” He lifts his hand, it’s bloody and burned, blisters forming in spots that make you cringe, “And my hand is burned like crazy,” He rasps, “Shot my gun with some shit blocking the barrel.”

“Okay, can you take off your shirt, or do you need help?” You ask, standing up to start running the water and grabbing two cloths made from old t-shirts from the hamper next to your tub. Red Hood shakes his head and pulls off his shirt in your peripherals. Glancing over, his chest looks just as bad as you thought it would, with bruises scattered everywhere. It makes your stomach drop just a little more. At least there aren’t any deep abrasions anywhere.

Once the water warms up enough, you wet the cloths and offer one to Red Hood, resting the other one down on the sink countertop, “Wrap that around your hand and keep it there. I’m going to go get some ice for your ribs,” You say quietly, leaving the bathroom to walk over to the kitchen.

Why was Red Hood even here? He’s the most secretive person you know, and doesn’t he have an entire gang to patch him up? He must have a lieutenant or something somewhere. You grab the towel you keep in your kitchen and stuff it with ice, heading back to the bathroom where Red Hood awaits you. Honestly, fucking one of the most dangerous men in Gotham and a notorious crime lord was not your brightest idea, but patching him up after he got into a fucking explosion? What the fuck.

This isn’t what you two do, especially with Hood being so vulnerable right now. He’s breaking the boundaries he had firmly set completely on his own.

“Hey,” You say, Red Hood’s leaning back against the toilet, his eyes closed, “Wake up, I’ve got your ice.” Thankfully, he opens his eyes and takes the makeshift icepack with his good hand, pressing it against his ribs with a slight grimace. You pull the t-shirt-cloth off the counter and stand in between his legs to clean his face.

Nudging his chin with your hand to make him look up at you, you peel off the domino mask with some hesitation, but Red Hood just closes his eyes. He rests his head in your hand when you carefully grip his chin to nudge his face in the direction you want. Starting to clean the cut on his eyebrow, you think about how familiar he looks. His eyes look like those you’ve seen before, but you have no idea where.

“What happened?” You ask, wiping the blood off his face as carefully as you can. You know he won’t answer honestly, the few times you two had talked about anything close to emotions he had fled or changed the subject as soon as possible.

“I told you,” Red Hood responds like the avoidant fuck he is, “Explosion.”

You tut, whacking him lightly with your t-shirt-towel, and he huffs good-naturedly, “You know what I fucking meant, dickhead.” You scold, but he just shakes his head minutely in response, a furrow forming between his brows.

You swipe your thumb over it, soft in a way you two have never been, “You don’t have to tell me, Red. If this is the best way to help, then I’ll fix you up and send you on your way.”

He takes a shaky breath, and his eyebrows scrunch together more. You’re scared he’s going to stand up and leave your apartment, but he pushes through your hands and presses his forehead into your stomach. He falls apart against you. You can’t tell if he’s crying, but it’s something close.

“Oh, sweetheart,” You mutter, curling a hand into his hair.

You both stay like that until he calms down, the sobs wracking his body slowing to a stop. Cupping his face in your hands, you push until he looks up at you.

You don’t have to push very hard. Wiping away the tear tracks with your thumbs, you smile sadly down at him. There’s a small wet spot on your shirt.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” You crouch down and start wiping the dirt and blood off his chest, pushing him until he leans against the back of the toilet. Repeating this on his back as well, you try to soothe as best you can with a hand stroking up and down his side with the least bruises.

Once you’re done you pull him around to face you, “I’m going to wash your hair, bandage your hand, and then you’re sleeping for a very long time.”

Red Hood visibly tenses at that, and you level him with an unimpressed stare, “Stay,” You say quietly, resting your hands on his biceps and avoiding his gaze, “I want to watch you if you have a concussion, and I can’t do that when you’re having a seizure in an alleyway because it’s given you brain damage.”

He deflates, but still rolls his eyes, “It’s not that bad,” He argues, “I’ve been through worse.” How bad, he doesn’t say, but from the amount of scars on his chest and back, you can pretty much tell.

You patronizingly pat his cheek, “That sucks for you,” You tease, your hand sliding down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, avoiding the burns on his hands, and gently tug him towards the shower. He follows without protest, and you both sit against the tub as you wait for the water to warm up. It’s calming, sitting beside Red Hood, your sides pressed together.

Once the water is at a heat you deem acceptable; you pull down the showerhead and maneuver Red Hood to kneel over the tub, still icing his ribs, and start washing his ashy hair with generous amounts of shampoo and conditioner. You can feel his breathing slow next to you as you massage his head with your hands, suds falling into the tub under him.

You wring out his hair with a towel and push him back up into a sitting position. Kneeling on the ground, you lean over to pull open the cabinet under your sink and carefully take the first aid kit from its precarious balance on top of your medicine hoard.

Wrapping his burn is easier than you thought, Red Hood pliant and willing under your hands. You do a once over of him and judge him fit to sleep. You lead him out of the bathroom with a hand on the small of his back.

“Sorry, I don’t have any underwear for you,” You whisper, scared to break the quiet vulnerability you two are sharing.

He smiles at you for the first time since he arrived, which really means it’s the first time ever. It’s soft around the corners with exhaustion, and he looks at you for a little while before responding, “It’s okay, I didn’t expect you to,” He whispers back, just as hushed as you.

You chuckle at his late reply, “Your concussion must be pretty bad if it takes you that long to process words,” You goad, slipping under the covers. Red Hood goes to follow after setting his icepack down on the nightstand, but you hold out a hand to stop him, “Pants. Off. I’m not getting your grime and soot all over my clean sheets.”

He smiles brighter, “Well, you could’ve asked nicer,” He huffs, unbuckling his utility belt and letting it fall to the floor. He undoes his real belt and kicks off his cargo pants, nestling down into the sheets with a groan that’s half pain and half satisfaction.

You’re lying on your stomach, your face smushed against the pillow facing Red Hood, who’s lying on his back, as he fucking should, staring up at the ceiling, “Good?” You mumble, more at the pillow than the man beside you, and he laughs slightly, turning his head to look at you.

“Yeah,” He whispers like a secret in the dark of your bedroom, “It's good.”

#jason todd #jason todd x female reader #jason todd x reader #hurt/comfort #i made myself sad #nvm that was the mitski

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ultimate-chickennougat · 18 days

Text

| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 8)

Vol 1 Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 Vol 7 (Not Required) Vol 9

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader

You see your husband in his glasses for the first time...

Word Count: 1.3k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!Reader, reader wears a dress, Gojo is mentioned (a lot).

A/n: I haven't posted a new volume in weeks, my sincerest apologies! This one was a bit rushed, but I'll be back with regular installments.

Due to the nature of being a sorcerer, Nanami didn’t have many photos of his time at Jujutsu High. Most of the few that had been taken were stuffed into dusty boxes in storage rooms, that none of his former classmates and colleagues wanted to touch.

That pattern continued into adulthood. His hatred of his work as a salaryman (a job he eventually came back to), and as a sorcerer, caused him to not appreciate having documentation of those moments. Other than from the unannounced snap of a camera from Gojo, or on a particularly important occasion, his face was rarely captured before he met you.

His stance on the matter didn’t change, but instead there were plenty of memories he wanted to have preserved. In fact he bought a camera just to bring on outings with you, taking pictures of the two of you together and the beautiful scenery of the parks and forests you visited.

He quickly returned to his former job after meeting you, but during that short period in which he was a sorcerer, he made sure to take pictures of himself whenever he went to any place that was interesting and to let you know that he was safe while he was there.

Without the intent of actively pursuing high grade curses, Nanami made many other lifestyle changes, including retiring his glasses. He still stumbled upon lower ones from time to time, but the absence of his glasses had no effect on exorcising them. At the beginning, he kept them tucked in his pocket just in case he might need them, but eventually they slipped into a box of old memorabilia and got stuffed into the bottom of his closet.

Despite your rigorous cleaning routine, it was still by chance that you stumbled upon that box. Nanami always kept his closet neat and organized, and there was never anything wrong with it every morning when you picked out his tie for him. Instead it was Nanami who asked you to take some of them out and place them on the table, as Gojo was going to pick up some pictures to show his students.

You pulled out the white file boxes, all uniform with the labels “Jujutsu High” on them. Each was brought to the living room and placed on the table, waiting for whenever Gojo was going to come by.

A whole hour passed before you touched the boxes again. In that time you had made some tea and started on dinner, before curling up on the couch to finish your embroidery. But, Gojo hadn’t given a time and was notorious for being late. He was a busy man, after all, so there was no reason not to try and help him out a little.

Instead of sifting through old boxes, you figured if you could grab the pictures and place them in a neat stack, it would save him some time (and your husband some stress from having Gojo go through his things).

As you could expect with your husband, the insides of the boxes weren’t dusty at all. Other than a few marks on the sides, probably from moving things around, everything was perfectly in order. Along with that, all the photos were preserved in sleeves inside a book that you easily removed.

Flipping through the pages, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the sight of Nanami’s old birthday photo with his classmates at Jujutsu High. You recognized Ieiri, who was your doctor as per Nanami’s recommendation, and Gojo of course, though the others were unfamiliar to you.

For you it was also a trip down memory lane, seeing as some of the photos you had only glimpsed at in the past, and you remembered all the stories Nanami had told you about his time as a student and a sorcerer. You placed the book firmly in the middle of the table, about to close the lid as the clock hit 5:30 P.M, when Nanami got home.

Just a few minutes later he was walking up the steps and into the house, being greeted by you just like every day. To him, it was the perfect way to come home. It had already been a few months since your marriage, and he couldn’t imagine getting bored of it decades away, let alone any time soon.

Nanami held you in his arms, that were sore and tired from a long day of typing and flipping through papers at the office without much time to stretch. You could hear his heartbeat soften while he relaxed.

“Welcome home, darling,” you smiled, trying to help him feel at ease. Of course, your presence was more than enough to do just that. “I’m glad to be home,” he mumbled, lowering his shoulders and letting you go freely. “Has Gojo come by yet?” you shook your head, to which he nodded. “Knowing him he’ll show up in the middle of the night,” Nanami groaned, rubbing his forehead.

“I put the photobook on the table, is that what he wanted?” you asked. “Yes, thank you,” he joined you, where you were flipping through it. “I remember when you told me about this,” you showed him the picture of a birthday cake, baked just for him by Gojo. “I didn’t realized Gojo was the one who made it,” he could see the honest surprise on your face. “Hmm… I must have left that part out…” he frowned, recalling how embarrassing it was at the time, though it was a fond memory. Nanami pulled one of the unopened boxes towards him, taking the lid off as you continued looking through the photos.

Nanami paused when he saw the glasses. It had been a while, but they were still familiar to him. So much so that he popped them right on, his eyes quickly adjusting to the new shade. “Kento?” you tilted you head at the sight, while he turned to look at you. “Yes, my love?” he pulled them off his face so you could see him properly. “Are those old? I never knew you wore glasses,” you pointed to them in his hand. “They’re for Jujutsu sorcery, to watch curses,” he brought them to his face.

“Ah, I see,” you hummed when he put them back on. “What do you think?” he asked, smirking as he saw you examine him. Your hands started fidgeting with the ribbon of your dress, as you stared right into his eyes though you couldn’t see them. “You look very handsome, darling,” you stated meekly. That was a true statement, but there was still something you felt was off.

“I can’t see your eyes,” you continued, “Unless you’re really close, that is.” Nanami stepped a bit forward, lightly biting the inside of his lip. “And would you like to, my cute wife?” he asked, fully intending to have you blushing at his words. He bent forward, the lenses hitting the light at an angle so you could see through the dark glass. He was staring just as intently as you.

Nanami let his hand cup your jaw to keep eye contact, as an unfortunate knock on the door from Gojo came at the wrong time. “What’s a few more minutes, hmm?” he let out a chuckle, ignoring the sound. “Answer my question,” he directed you. “Yes,” you nodded quietly.

Nanami pulled off the glasses and tucked them back into the box, shutting the lid. “I agree they are quite cumbersome,” he let you go to the door. “You actually told me you liked my eyes on our first date, I would be surprised if you preferred them,” he smiled at you, letting out a sigh as the banging continued. “I enjoy looking at your eyes as well, just please don’t mention it to Gojo.”

#nanami x reader #jjk #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento #jjk nanami #kento nanami #kento #nanami

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artemis32 · 1 year

Note

also the first person to come to mind when you said someone stubborn enough to ignore aizawa’s glare was bakugo, I feel like that would stress aizawa out so bad

platonic yandere aizawa shouta iii

Fun fact my top three favourite characters (in no specific order) in bnha are Aizawa, Bakugo and Shigaraki, so this is perfect

Also I finished this before any of the other subjugation drabbles as requested, but I'm clearing out my drafts, so hopefully I'll be able to post a few more this week

platonic aizawa masterlist

bnha masterlist

Class 1a was up to something. Aizawa knew they were.

They weren’t good at being sneaky, and for the past two weeks, they’d been behaving strangely.

Ever since the class had seen you, he’d been slightly on edge, waiting for something to go wrong. And he knew that it would sooner or later.

Class 1a were disruptive and oftentimes insubordinate. They couldn’t follow the rules and they got into trouble more often than Aizawa could keep count of.

They were troublemakers.

Aizawa knew that.

Which is why he was so suspicious of them.

They had been perfectly behaved in lessons, quiet and diligent, completing every assignment he’d given to them. They hadn’t spoken out of turn or argued once within the past two weeks. Most suspiciously though, must have been the fact that they hadn’t once brought up the question of who you were again.

It made him uneasy.

It made him annoyed.

But instead of addressing the matter as he probably should have, he kept quiet, curious to see what exactly they were up to.

He found out by the end of that week.

****

“Okay sweetheart, I’m leaving now. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? You’re more than welcome to, it won’t be long.”

You huff out a laugh. Aizawa was running errands and had been repeatedly questioning whether you wanted to come with him. You were sure he was trying to guilt trip you into joining him.

It might have worked.

It was working.

But you were a model student, as so, your homework and assignments had to come first - much to your father’s displeasure.

The only respite was that you’d be staying safely within the walls of UA, specifically in the apartment, which made your father feel much better about leaving you by yourself.

Sometimes you think he forgets that you’re a teenager – old enough to be home alone for a few hours.

“Yes, I’m sure dad. I’ll call you or Mr Yamada if there’s an emergency. I’ll see you later.”

He huffs, accepting that you wouldn’t change your mind.

The hug he draws you into is crushing and he presses your face into his chest. You feel his chest rumble as he lets out a laugh.

“Don’t let Hizashi hear you call him that, you know how much he hates it.”

You scowl slightly. The eclectic blond often insisted that you call him by his first name, or the ever-endearing title of 'Uncle Zashi', making a habit of reminding you every time you happened to accidentally ‘forget’. You enjoyed his company, but his persistent attitude grated on your nerves sometimes.

“Don’t you dare tell him.”

Aizawa laughs again before reminding you to stay safe and call him in the case of an emergency.

You bid him one last farewell before shutting and locking the door. Paranoia seemed to be one of your father’s defining traits when it came to you.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re set up in the living room, surrounded by snacks, stationary, and papers scattered over the floor and coffee table.

****

Three hours later, you decide to call it quits for the day, packing up your belongings and returning to the living room to flop down on to the couch.

You’d been laying on the couch, watching a rerun of some old movie your father enjoyed, when there was a knock at the door.

Thinking nothing of it, you haul yourself up and make your way to the door.

It could have been anyone - Midnight or Present Mic, here to keep you company or watch over you at your father’s request, or it could have been another teacher, here to drop off paperwork for your father. Perhaps it was your father himself, having forgotten his keys.

Living amongst a group of heroes and heroes-in-training makes you comfortable, and you don’t bother checking who is at the door before flinging it wide open.

Two boys and a girl, all around your own age stand before you. One of the boys and the girl look surprised, eyebrows rising, creasing their foreheads. The second boy remains impassive, his dual-coloured eyes trailing over you, head to toe.

“Can I help you?”

They continue to stare at you for a moment before the pink-skinned girl harshly elbows the blond boy next to her.

He exclaims in pain before clearing his throat and smiling widely.

“Hi there. I was wondering if Aizawa sensei is home?”

If your father had passed one trait on to you, it had to be his suspicious nature. You straighten slightly, nudging the door closed a few centimeters.

“Aizawa sensei is out running a few errands. He should be back soon - would you like to leave a message?”

The boy with the dual-coloured eyes leans forward slightly, his upper body now crossing over the threshold into your apartment.

“May we come in?”

Though he poses it as a question, he doesn’t wait for an answer, already pushing past you and into the hallway behind you.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and the boy and girl still in the doorway seem to panic alongside you, scrambling in after him.

“Todoroki, you can’t just barge in like that!”

The dual-haired boy - Todoroki - ignores them and chooses to look around the apartment instead, taking in his surroundings with an air of disinterest.

“I have a question. Answer truthfully and we’ll leave.”

His two friends, still panickedly trying to urge him out of your house, still as he speaks. They stare at one another, then at Todoroki, before nodding and looking at you.

By now, you’re anxious and wary, eager to get them out. You take a deep, calming breath.

Doing as they say seems to be the best decision. You didn’t want to stir up trouble, and you definitely didn’t want your father or another teacher stumbling upon the scene.

“Fine, one question and then you’re gone.”

You cross your arms and press your mouth into a hard line, attempting to cover up your anxieties with an air of anger.

The three agree to your terms, Todoroki humming lightly before speaking.

“Is Mr Aizawa your father?”

It’s a loaded question, one you aren’t sure you want to answer.

While you and your father hadn’t tried to cover up the fact that you were his daughter, you also hadn’t gone out of your way to announce it. The fact that the three standing before you were so curious that they went as far as to basically break into your house to get an answer made you concerned.

Their eagerness made you believe that it would be best to lie. Then again, what would you tell them - being honest may be the only way to get them to leave without a fuss.

You nod slowly, hesitantly.

“Yes, he is.”

While the boy and girl let out noises of disbelief, Todoroki doesn’t seem to be surprised.

“See guys, told you.”

The blonde boy splutters for a moment, shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Is that all?” You ask apprehensively, still tense and nervous.

An unspoken question lingers in the air.

Will you leave now?

Todoroki nods, thanking you before calling for his two companions.

At the door, he pauses, turning to you one last time.

“Can I ask that you keep this visit a secret, just for a while. Don’t tell Aizawa sensei that we were here. Please.”

His demeanour is serious, though it seems like more of a demand than a request.

You’re already nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, sure.”

Regardless of whether he asked you or not, you wouldn’t have told your father of their visit. The last thing you needed was for his paranoia to be proven correct.

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and he definitely didn’t need to know that three students - three of his students - had been to his home to see you while he was away. Worse, that they knew you were his daughter.

If he found out, you’d never hear the end of it. In fact, you were slightly afraid he may never let you leave the house again.

No, you definitely would not be telling him about their visit.

By the time your father returns home hours later, you’ve scrubbed the memory of the three students from your mind, and he seems none the wiser.

The two of you have dinner and talk for a bit before going to bed.

You make no mention of the day’s events, and he doesn’t ask.

****

For the first time in what could have been years, you were in trouble. Big trouble.

From the moment you entered the apartment, it had seemed eerily still, too quiet to be natural.

When you first entered the living room, you saw your father sitting with his back towards you, posture straight and still. He didn’t turn to greet you and you feel a growing sense of unease when he tells you to sit down.

“How was your day?”

You’ve known your father long enough to recognize his tone, to know that he’s not asking because he’s actually interested.

Right now, your father, the ever stoic Shouta Aizawa, was furious.

“Answer me.”

“It was fine, classes were good.”

“Hmm. How about yesterday? What did you do yesterday?”

You’re wringing your hands now, fingers gripping at each other in a feeble attempt to mask how obviously your hands are shaking.

“Y-Yesterday was good, same as today, classes and whatnot...”

You trail off awkwardly, unsure of what exactly he wants to hear. You don’t ask though, some sense of self preservation telling you to keep your mouth shut.

“And the past weekend? How was your day on Saturday. You had some time alone, what exactly did you get up to then?”

Staring down at the floor, you clear your throat and try to think of an excuse.

“Ah, well, I got a few assignments done and made dinner.”

His hand on your shoulder almost makes you jump.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

You don’t want to.

You don’t want to look at him, you don’t want to see his anger or disappointment or whatever other negative emotion lays there at the moment.

But his grip tightens slightly on your shoulder, not enough to hurt, just enough to grab your attention. So you close your eyes and take a deep breath before looking up and meeting your father’s gaze.

He’s angry. Angry and disappointed and everything that you feared he would be. But most of all he looks concerned, worry pinching at the juncture between his eyebrows and at the corners of his mouth.

“What happened while I was out?”

You weren’t often emotional, and you definitely didn’t cry. Crying was pointless, it didn’t change anything.

But you had to bite your bottom lip and press your nails into your palms to stop yourself from bursting into tears in that moment.

It rarely happened that you kept anything from your father. You told him everything, no matter how big or small.

Truthfully, keeping a secret this big for as long as you had had been weighing you down. You felt guilty. Granted, you weren’t exactly lying to him, but it pained you to hide something like this from your father.

And so you cracked.

A few hot tears rolled down your cheeks as you sniffled, wiping at your nose with the sleeve of your jacket.

“Three of your students came to the apartment. They asked to see you but I said you were out.”

Aizawa’s grip on your shoulder had lessened, his arm wrapping around you, shifting you closer to him.

“Is that all?”

You debated lying to him, only for a moment. It technically wouldn’t be lying, you just wouldn’t be telling the whole truth.

The idea deflated quickly once his hand came up to brush away a few tears, his thumb gently rubbing at the soft skin under your eye.

“T-They just asked if I’m your daughter or not, they left after that.”

He hums again, staring at you for a few seconds longer. It feels as if he’s pining you in place, pressuring you into talking. Evidently, you have nothing else to say.

“Can you tell me what they looked like sweetie?”

****

You imagined that this is how criminals felt.

Under any other circumstances, it might have been funny.

Before you, lined up in somewhat of an identity parade, were a the three students from your father’s class, along with a few other guilty-looking students.

Three girls, five boys, all standing pin straight, facing forward.

In the room next door stood the rest of the class, the remaining twelve students standing in silence.

Your father’s fury, evidently, had not been aimed at you.

Well, not fully.

He was admittedly quite upset with you for not being truthful with him, but his anger was mainly aimed at his students for interfering with his personal life. With his family.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen how high strung you’ve been over the past few days. I was concerned, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you so I gave you some space. But today one of my students let something slip and I put together the fact that they must have had something to do with the way you’ve been acting recently.”

You didn’t want to outwardly expose the three students who had come to see you that day, but your father had threatened to punish the entire class, so you’d caved and described them as best you could.

So here they stood, not once making eye contact with you.

"Go on," your father said, staring them down with a harsh glare, one like you'd never seen before. You knew your father could be strict with his students, but this was something else.

They all bowed forward at the hip, staring straight at the ground as they spoke in sync.

"We're sorry."

You stand in stunned silence for a few short moments, before shaking your head.

"Oh, um, it's fine. Thank you for the apology. And I'm sorry too."

The blond-haired student from before tries to raise his head, a wide smile on his face before your father's hand meets his neck, holding his head down.

"Did I say you could look up?"

"Sorry sensei."

Aizawa hums, glancing at you.

"Sweetheart, you can leave now. I'll see you later."

As much as you'd like to argue, you don't. Instead, you nod and bow to the eight students before you, bidding them goodbye before making for the door.

****

Aizawa couldn't find you.

He'd stayed behind to have a little chat with a few of his students, intent on returning home to you afterwards, but now, fifteen minutes later, you were gone.

You weren't in the 1A dorms and you weren't at home.

There was nowhere else that you could be, so where had you gone?

He begrudgingly made his way back to the dorms, resigning himself to spending his afternoon with the troublesome students of class 1A.

Only, he didn't have to go very far to find you.

Not with the small crowd of students trying, and failing to hide in the bushes next to the dorms.

He sighs heavily, walking up behind them silently.

Crouching down, he whispers, "What are you looking at?"

The yelps Denki and Sero let out are both panicked and silent, though they quickly scramble back to where they were, shushing Aizawa with flapping hands.

He quirks an eyebrow. Whatever they were spying on had to be interesting if they were brave enough to shush him.

Aizawa shrugs and cranes his neck to see what has them and their friends so intruiged, and-

Absolutely not.

There, sat on a bench in the hidden garden next to 1A's dorm room, was Bakugo Katsuki.

Accompanied by you, his daughter.

And unless his eyes deceived him - was he blushing?

Having seen enough, Aizawa stands and pushes between the students clustered behind the bushes.

He calls your name, and you look up with a start, eyes wide and dazed, your cheeks strangely flushed.

"Dad?"

You and Bakugo both jump up, and you head towards Aizawa while Bakugo slips away.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were going straight home? And why were you with Bakugo?"

You laugh awkwardly, deflecting his questions as you grab his arm and head towards your own apartment, away from the 1A dorms.

"Sorry dad, I got a bit caught up. Hey, how'd the interrogation go?"

You were trying to distract him. Aizawa knew that.

But your father was nothing if not willing, so he let you get away with it, making a mental note to look into what you were doing with Bakugo Katsuki of all people later.

****

Of all the students in your father's class, Bakugo was the one he thought would stay away from you. Far away.

Unfortunately, nothing seemed to be going his way lately, and Aizawa was infuriated to learn that Bakugo had taken a liking to you.

While he may have his own strong suits, he was definitely not the type of person your father would want you to end up with. Honestly, if he had it his way, you would remain happily single and by his side until both of you died.

But those plans were put on the back burner for now.

He learnt, from a collection of camera feeds and fearful student reports, that you had indeed been on your way back home after your father's intervention, but you'd gotten caught up exploring the grounds around the dorm area.

No one could fault you for that - it was Aizawa's fault really, he never let you out on your own, especially not to explore.

It was something he'd have to work on at a later date.

While on your little adventure, you'd run into a feisty blond.

Bakugo had been tasked with clearing away the autumn leaves around the 1A dorms, a minor punishment for some or other misdemeanour, and he'd caught your attention.

That wasn't unusual - you were curious when you wanted to be. It was a trait that your father both loved and loathed.

What was unusual was that Bakugo had played along.

Aizawa knew that Bakugo knew you were his daughter. That meant that he knew not to snap at you or treat you with his usual brutish attitude as he did with his classmates.

He knew that, but he couldn't understand why Bakugo had taken such a liking to you. Aizawa knew you were perfect, but he also knew that he was biased when it came to his opinion of you.

Well, he thought, I'll just have to ask him myself.

****

For the first time in all his years as a teacher, Shouta Aizawa was stunned to the point of silence.

He never imagined the conversation would take a turn like this.

"Sensei?"

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the heavy fog over his mind as he throws the quizzical blond a hard look.

"No."

"No?"

He'd never felt any genuine anger or violence towards any of his students, but this-

"Well sensei, we met a while ago. She- I knew she was your daughter, so I tried to keep my distance but, well..."

"I'm sure you understand what I mean."

"We've known each other for a while. "

"If you'll allow it-"

The conversation replayed in his head as a series of broken sentences and snapshots.

He felt off-kilter, unsure of himself in the worst way possible.

The only thing he knew was that, at this moment, someone was threatening to come between you and him - threatening to take you away from him, to steal you from him.

"No," he said sharply, "Stay away from my daughter."

It was Bakugo's turn to look shocked, though he was faster to calm himself than Aizawa was.

"Sensei, is this to keep her safe, or because you don't want to share her?"

It's a strangely phrased question, one that would puzzle anyone. Anyone but Aizawa.

He understood exactly what the hotheaded child in front of him meant by the word 'share'.

It spelt trouble in more ways than one.

"No. You asked and that's my answer. Now go back to your dorm," he says, waving him out without another word.

Bakugo nods and leaves without further argument, not once looking back.

Aizawa slumped back in his seat.

Bakugo knew what you meant to his teacher, beyond what most people thought they knew - he understood the lengths he'd go to to keep you safe and happy. The fact that he'd left without a fight proved as much.

More concerning than that though, had to be the fact that Bakugo was the same as him. He had the same unsettling urge to be with you, to be the only source of your attention.

Aizawa had seen it in his eyes, but heard it moreso in his words.

Share.

No, he wouldn't share you. Not with anyone.

#yandere #dark content #female reader #platonic #bnha #mha #aizawa shota #platonic yandere #father aizawa #platonic yandere aizawa x reader #yandere aizawa shota #platonic aizawa x reader #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo katsuki x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo katsuki

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projectdrow · 3 months

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How the Bad Batch can end well

So here are my 5 thoughts on season 3 and what’s to come after. I recommend @eriexplosion if you like reading interesting thoughts, analysis and ramblings, a lot of their recent posts inspired this one.

First of all, the trailer was a work of art. It gave us some really random scenes, but also some very direct information that we can speculate on like crazy, if we want to. Also, the title-episode list comes in handy, I will refer to it.

1.) Episode 1-3 one go

I’ll come back to why the show needs to end before May the 4th later, and that’s another reason for the multiple episode days.

When a streaming service like Disney drops more than one episode, they often do so because they think viewers might be lost, because the single (first) episode does not have the full “boom-bang-drama” potential.

I think we’ll see the liberation of Crosshair, maybe even Omega, in the first three episodes. The trailer makes no secret of the fact that Cross will rejoin the team. So this story will not be the main focus of the whole season and the first episode might built up solely for the climax of the escape/liberation in episode 3. At least something heavy will happen at the end of “Shadows of Tantiss”

2.) Omega as the main character

Omega’s character is a very typical tool in storytelling. Throw a character who knows nothing into an established system, so she learns everything with/for the viewer. Sure, the boys are main characters, too, but Omega is the point of view of the kids(! - I’ll come back to that later)-show we’re watching. She can’t be gone for that long, because I don’t think season 3 will be a “Omega’s adventures on Mt. Tantiss”. I think episode 6 and 7 (“Infiltration” and “Extraction”) the latest will bring her back.

3.) So what’s the story?

Actually, and some might say that’s a big take, a lot of the first episodes will be about Tech. I don’t think I need to elaborate to anyone why it makes no sense for him to be dead and never had.

When we first saw this Clone X, there were some interesting “Undercover-Tech” ideas, but after analyzing the trailer in more depth and especially what appears to be an attack on Pabu led by this Clone, well, I think that’s Tech. And not undercover, no, the full on brainwashed, highly dangerous Imp!Tech. Episode 10 is called “Identity Crisis”, which could very well be Tech’s. But they’ll get him back, don’t worry, also because the second part will be about the BB finally deciding what to do with their lives. Which leads directly to 5.), but first:

4.) (Almost) no one dies

Two reasons. First: We already had that devastating Tech-death scene. He AND Asajj will be brought back from the dead this season. Any further death this season wouldn’t convince anyone anymore, not even the kids.

Second: The kids. It’s still a children’s show. Yes, Star Wars kills of characters in them too, but @eriexplosion made a very good point in this post: That’s not what this show is about. TBB has been about the struggle of Clones finding their place, finding family, finding a meaning. All of that would be for naught, and that’s why I think everyone survives.

Also: The last episode is called: “The Cavalry has Arrived”.

5.) About the future

I think the Bad Batch was intended to be released earlier. As well as the trailer. But with the strikes and Filoni being promoted, their was a lot going on. With the triplet opening and the double episodes, we’ll finish on May 1st. And that would be just to perfect to announce the follow-up-project on May 4th. I see another Clone series on the horizon. The Clones work, the people love them, it’s all there, the characters, the stories, the animation. It’s a safe bet for Lucasfilm. And sure, it would work with Rex, Cody and more as main characters, but the Batch was intended to be and is a stark contrast to the “Regs”, especially if they get Cross and Tech back.

Sure, Omega could be the leading figure again, but… nah. I am writing this because I’m absolutely convinced that we won’t have seen the last of the complete BadBatch after season 3.

Star Wars is about Hope. So I hope.

#The Bad Batch #Star Wars #TBB speculation

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fyonahmacnally · 4 months

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Hands On Experience (Kara's First Job)

Based on a tumblr post - read here.

It’s been a long week for all of them, even longer since they’ve all had a chance to unwind and relax in general, much less as a group. Between their regular jobs, their vigilante shifts, and just life in general, months have passed since their last girl’s night. Fortunately, tonight is the remedy to that problem.

They’re all sitting around Lena’s living room, snacks, wine, and other spirits spread across the coffee table in front of them. Kelly, Alex, Nia, Sam, Andrea, Lena, and Kara are regaling each other with stories of their youth and the trouble they managed to get into. Hearing some of the stories from Andrea about a teenage Lena has everyone laughing and somewhat surprised. The normally straight-laced and stoic CEO was quite rebellious in her teen years. Who knew? Kara sure as hell didn’t.

As the night continues, the alcohol flows freely and the conversations ebb and flow into different topics. Kara thinks they’ve finally ventured away from the stories of their younger years and she breathes a sigh of relief. She never really did anything rebellious, she has always been more of a good girl, a rule follower. She couldn’t really get into trouble while trying to hide her identity. The two weren’t compatible.

But…not many people know about her first job. The one she got right after graduating college to pay for her first apartment in National City. It’s not something she tells many people. Especially since it came about by accident. She’s not ashamed of it, she’s just not sure how people will react to it. The times it has come out in conversations, reactions have been mixed. Plus, she sighs internally, if Alex is around, she always pushes her to tell The Story™ about the break-in. It isn’t something she likes to share.

Again, not because she is ashamed, it’s just that the way she got the job comes up and okay, that part is embarrassing. People usually laugh, tease her about it. And okay, she can see how it might be objectively funny, but she just…whatever. She’s a grown ass woman now.

Still, she doesn’t want to tell The Story™ in front of Sam, Andrea, and Lena. She already gets teased by Alex about it and she knows Sam and Andrea won’t let her live it down. And Lena, Rao. They’ve been dating for a few months now and have had sex so they’ve discussed things. Kara knows Lena was a little surprised when she brought so much knowledge to those conversations, but she’s never asked about it.

In fact, of all the people currently sitting in this room, Alex is the only one who knows The Story™. Maybe Kelly because they talk about everything, but yeah. It’s not a story anyone else in the room knows and Kara wants to keep it that way. She’s managed it for years, maybe her luck will continue.

Just as she begins to relax, thinking she has managed to dodge the story and keep her secret for another day, she hears her name. When she shakes herself from her inner dialogue, six pairs of eyes are on her.

“What?” Kara asks, looking from face to face before her eyes land on her sister. Her shoulders sink. She knows that look, that’s The Story™ look. Fuck. She is not going to be able to escape it, but she has to try. “Did I miss something?”

Alex grins, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes. “We were just talking about our first full-time jobs. Andrea was under the impression that working for CatCo is the only full-time job you’ve ever had.” She tilts her head and smirks at her now nervous sister. “I corrected her, but that story is so much better when it comes from you. Care to share, Kara?”

She sighs and drops her chin to her chest, this isn’t what she had in mind when she requested a Girl’s Night with her friends. Not even close. To be fair, she’s a little shocked Alex hasn’t somehow forced this story out before now. She is also definitely not drunk enough for this conversation either, so she makes a decision.

Kara bolts up from her seat, glass in hand. “If I am telling The Story™ I need more alcohol.” She sends pleading eyes to her girlfriend before turning to make a quick exit to the kitchen, Lena following close behind.

“Hey.” Lena’s soft voice, full of concern, breaks the silence. She walks around the island to stand next to her unusually quiet girlfriend. “Are you okay, Darling? If you want me to kick everyone out for the evening, I will. I can have Frank take everyone home.” She smoothes the now prominent crinkle between the blonde’s eyes, waiting for a response.

“No, it’s fine. This was bound to come up in conversation eventually. Honestly, I just hoped it wouldn’t be tonight.” She lets out a long sigh before burying her head into Lena’s neck, breathing in her comforting lavender scent.

Lena wraps her arms around her favorite person, placing a soft kiss to her temple before pulling her close. “You know, I always assumed CatCo was your first job too. We’ve never really talked about it.” She feels Kara pull away with a slight grimace on her face. Their eyes meet and Lena raises a brow at the Kryptonian.

Kara shrugs. “It’s what most people assume. I just don’t correct them.” She chuckles as she pulls the Aldebaran rum from the cabinet and pours a very full glass. Taking a big gulp, she winces at the slow burn moving down her throat. “I suppose I should get this over with, huh? Let everyone get their laughter and teasing quota in for the evening.”

Green eyes watch her curiously, taking in this peculiar behavior from the blonde. She’s seen Kara wary of things, but she’s not sure she’s ever seen her like this. It isn’t apprehension, it seems to be more like resignation, but she’s not sure what to make of it.

“Kara, you don’t have to tell anyone anything. If this makes you uncomfortable, we can put a stop to it. Just say the word.” Lena says, a fiery determination on her face.

A warm bubble of affection bursts in Kara’s chest before genuine laughter escapes her mouth. She smiles and kisses the dark-haired woman right on the enticing pout in front of her. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s an objectively funny story, just a little embarrassing. Besides, I’m also curious as to how you will react.” She waggles her brows and places one more soft kiss to Lena’s lips before dragging them both back to the rest of their friends.

The blonde takes a deep breath and reclaims her seat on the couch, Lena’s warm presence next to her and the warmth of the alien liquor in her system finally giving her the courage to expose her current biggest secret.

“My first job was at a sex shop called Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.” She pauses for what she knows will be gasps of disbelief, glancing around the room at the faces of some of her closest friends. True to her assumptions, most of the eyes staring back at her are wide and disbelieving. The only exceptions are Alex, Kelly, and surprisingly, Nia.

Nia tilts her head to the side and takes a sip of her drink before she leans forward, a knowing smile on her face. “Well, there are several things that make a lot more sense now.” The brunette giggles. “When I came to you about that article I wrote a couple of years ago about spicing up things in the bedroom, you knew way more than I expected you to. Now I know why!”

Kara sighs in exasperation. “I’m not nearly as innocent as everyone seems to think I am!” She scoffs, cutting her eyes at her sister in anticipation of what’s coming.

Alex lets out a really loud guffaw, her laughter jostling Kelly and making the rest of the group snap their eyes toward the redhead. “Oh Kara…my dear sweet sister. We all know you aren’t so innocent now, especially since dating Lena, I’m sure.” She smirks at the raven haired woman next to her, chuckling at the middle finger flipped in her direction. “But, please enlighten our friends on how you got that job.” She sips her scotch before leaning back into the cushion, snuggling into her wife’s side.

If looks could kill, Alex would be dead. She’s sure of it. The look she’s getting from Kara is filled with malice and daggers. She just smiles and winks at the blonde. Her mind is at peace, watching Lena absorb this story is worth every bit of ire from her sister. So, she relaxes and waits. Her part of the story will be here soon enough.

After looking around the room at her friends one more time and get a reassuring squeeze from her girlfriend, Kara begins her tale:

“I was looking online for jobs. I had just graduated from NCU and gotten my first apartment. At that point, I was applying for almost anything because I just needed something to pay rent. I came across this ad for retail sales at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets and thought, why not? How hard can it be to sell toys and trinkets?”

She pauses her story to take a drink of liquid courage, noticing the half smirk on her girlfriend’s face. Shaking her head, she continues:

“A few days later, I got a call from the manager of the store to come in for an interview. The instructions were to go to the back door of the building so I didn’t know what kind of things were being sold until later. I genuinely thought it was toys and trinkets…you know, like a Schwartz toy store.”

The uproarious laughter at that statement yanked her out of her story and she covered her face with a grumble. Lifting her face, she glares at her sister before turning to the rest of the group. “Look, if you guys want the rest of the story, you’re going to have to stop interrupting me. This is serious!” She harumphs and crosses her arms, making the group laugh even harder. She rolls her eyes and sits silently, waiting.

“Okay, okay. Settle down, let her finish.” Sam chimes in, wiping the tears of laughter from her face before settling back in next to Andrea. The couple share a soft smile before returning their attention to Kara.

“Are you sure you’re done?” She flicks her eyes between everyone before dropping them back onto her hands actively twisting in her lap. “Anyway, I went in for the interview…”

“I opened the back door and stepped inside to what seemed to be a storeroom. It looked pretty normal. Boxes, shelves, labels, nothing to indicate anything outside of the toy store I imagined. The manager, John, came out to greet me and took me into his office for the interview.

Now, what happens next was a little odd to me at the time and looking back it was obvious, but I was 21 and still not used to Earth’s customs so I just rolled with it. John brought out this…apparatus that was a very lifelike replica of a bare bottom.”

Kara growls as another round of belly laughs interrupts her telling of The Story™. This time she doesn’t say anything. She sits, silently waiting for the laughter to subside. Once it is quiet again, she makes eye contact with each of them trying to convey her frustration.

“Alright. Let’s get ourselves together and listen.” Lena clears her throat, quickly wiping away her own tears of laughter before she continues. “Go ahead, Darling. Finish your story, we’ll do our best not to interrupt you again.” Green eyes glare at the rest of the group before gently squeezing Kara’s leg in encouragement.

She sighs, throws her head back and stares at the ceiling before finally continuing, hopefully finishing this time.

“John had me…spank the bare bottom several times. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for at first, but later he told me that I kept my composure better than anyone else before me. I realize now it was because people probably laugh their asses off. For me it was pretty confusing because I assumed it was for some lifelike doll…which, looking back, I suppose it was.”

She laughs at her younger self. In hindsight, this story is pretty damn funny. If it were one of her friends, she’d probably be laughing hysterically as well. This line of thought seems to release something inside her and she smiles. The rest of the story should be easy.

“At this point, I still didn’t realize that it was a sex shop. I hadn’t seen the store and nothing about the storeroom indicated otherwise. Granted, I should have realized that spanking a prosthetic ass was a dead giveaway, but I’m an alien for Rao’s sake. I’d never seen anything like that in my entire life!

So, you can imagine, on my first day when I walked into the store, I was shocked. It was wall-to-wall dicks, vibrators, and all sorts of contraptions I didn’t know existed. Most of the day was spent with some shade of rosy embarrassment from head to toe. As much as I wanted to turn tail and run right out of there, I needed the job so I stuck it out. I learned a lot about sex and people in those two years I worked there.”

She grins at her friends, pausing briefly to wink at Lena. “Now, the really crazy part of my time working there happens about six months before I started working at CatCo…” Kara briefly glances at Alex before continuing her story.

“It was a Friday morning. We didn’t typically open until noon because the weekends were our busiest days with the latest hours. By this time, I was the assistant manager at the store so it wasn’t uncommon for me to open the store or close up at night. John and I had become friends at this point too so work was actually a lot of fun. Anyway, he had to drive up to our distribution center to sort out a shipment that had gotten delayed and left me in charge.

Since we opened at noon, I would usually get there around 10:45 to get things ready. However, on this particular day, one of our alarms was triggered. I got a call from the security company that an internal motion sensor was activated. It was shocking because we had very good security and had never had an issue. After telling them to call the police, I headed to the store.

Now, in order to understand the story, I need to tell you the layout of the store. Upstairs was where most of the really risque, more fetish and BDSM stuff was kept. No one was allowed up there without a member of the staff accompanying them. The bottom floor was where most customers stayed.

The layout of the first floor consisted of five zones. Imagine it from left to right. Zone 1 was all the porn DVD’s. Zone 2 was all of our lower end sex toys, all the more tame offerings in the lower price ranges. Zone 3 was the higher end sex toys and more…advanced offerings. It was where the realistic asses were kept.”

She smiles and looks around at her friends, once again winking at her girlfriend. They are all grinning and seem to be amused by her story. Taking a sip of her rum, she sits her glass down, presses a soft kiss to Lena’s cheek and keeps going.

“Zone 4 was the checkout where we spent most of our shift. And finally, Zone 5 was all the wearables - we called it the ‘lingerie, leather, and lace’ section. Each section had a camera directly focused on it as well as various other cameras throughout the store. There were motion sensors that were active when the store was armed and alarms on all the doors. Another bonus is that we weren’t far from one of the local police precincts.

To say that John and I were shocked about the break-in is an understatement. In the 18 months I had been there, we hadn’t had any issues and John said he’d never had any in the 3 years he’d been there before me. This thief was very savvy. They broke one of the windows on the lower level close to the lower end toys in Zone 2. For some reason, the alarms were only set to go off if the upper windows were breached and not these.

When the thief got in, they pretty much had the run of the store as long as they stayed clear of the motion sensors. Based on what I saw when I got there to meet the cops, the thief was initially after the DVD’s. Unfortunately for them, we keep the discs in a locked cabinet behind the checkout so the cases on the display are all empty.”

Kara chuckles and glances over at Alex, both of them have an amused twinkle in their eyes. She smiles at her sister and proceeds.

“The crook was clever, they were wearing a full bodysuit to cover their face and all their skin so their identity was well masked. When we watched the security footage back, it was evident that when the thief couldn’t get the DVD’s they decided to randomly grab whatever they could. However, instead of going for the high end toys and wearables, the sports car equivalent of goods for sexual pleasure, they stuffed as many of the cheapest, flimsiest dildos, foulest bottles of lube, and random edible things into their backpack. They did all that without triggering any alarms too. It wasn’t until they were climbing out of the broken window that they nicked one of the motion sensors on some of the more expensive products and kicked off the alarms.

Once that alarm was triggered, I got the phone call and dispatched the police. By the time I got to the store, the woman my sister was dating at the time, who was a detective at the precinct up the street, was there waiting for me. Maggie and I were working through what was taken and documenting all the goods stolen. I still laugh about how many times Maggie had to write the words dildo, edible underwear, and lube in that report.

What I didn’t know at the time was Maggie texted Alex to let her know the store had been broken into and Alex was making her way there to check on me. Maggie and I had been there for about 30 minutes before we heard a commotion outside the door.”

She grins widely and nods her head at Alex, giving her permission to take over the telling of the story.

“I love telling this part of the story.” Alex beams, placing her empty tumbler on the table in front of her and leaning forward on the couch. The redhead claps her hands together as she dives into her part of the story.

“I parked at a restaurant a block or so away. We went there a lot so I knew the owner and I figured we could grab some lunch once everything was squared away. As I was walking toward the scene, I saw this guy running toward me like a madman. There are things flying out of his backpack and he seems like he’s running from something. I pause for a minute and step to the side, not wanting to get taken out by the guy.

That’s when I realized he was leaving a trail of dildos, lube, and edible underwear in his wake. It was like a tsunami of cheap sex aids covering the sidewalk around us. I had already grabbed my badge so I just called out for him to stop and flashed it up at him. Within seconds, the guy was on his knees in front of me, his palms up and sobbing out ‘It was MeEeEnnE!!! I stole the diLDoS!!!’”

The entire room erupts into laughter. There isn’t a dry eye in the entire place. It’s how this story always ends…lots of laughter and disbelief. When it all eventually dies down, Kara notices that Lena has gotten very quiet and she has a contemplative look on her face. Her plump bottom lip is trapped between her pristine white teeth and there is a faraway look in her malachite eyes.

Nia is the first to speak, pulling them all out of their brief silence. “Okay, I can’t believe you didn’t tell us that you worked at a sex shop before, Kara. This is pertinent information that you’ve been holding back!” She scoffs at her friend. “Also, that was the dumbest thief I’ve ever heard of. He took all the cheapest shit you had instead of the good shit. And…there’s a 24 hour coffee shop right next door to Cherry Poppins! He could have stayed there until the coast was clear and made off with his stash. What. An. Idiot.”

“Seriously! That’s where Drea and I usually go after our Poppins shopping trips.” Sam chimes in, shaking her head in disbelief before catching what she just revealed. She quickly clears her throat and changes the subject. “You’ve been holding out, Kara. You could have given us recommendations! You probably know more about this stuff than Lena does.” She smirks at her friend before looking at Andrea with a wink.

Andrea grins. “Yeah, Lena has been our go-to all this time and you’re the actual hidden expert sitting right in front of us.” The brunette looks over to her childhood friend and laughs. She nudges Sam and whispers, “She’s having some thoughts right now, connecting some things.”

They both giggle and watch as Lena’s hand drifts up to her still captured bottom lip, brushing lightly back and forth against the soft skin. Her green eyes are still glassy and staring past the room currently occupied. Right as they are about to say something, Lena speaks.

“So, this whole time, you’ve been holding out on me?!” Lena’s voice comes out far more breathy and deeper than she wanted. Her eyes suddenly focus intently on Kara’s. “Wait! This makes so much more sense now. This is why you know so much about the…”

“NO!!!” Alex screeches. “Do. Not. Finish. That. Sentence. Lena. Luthor.” She points a menacing finger in the direction of her friend, her sister’s girlfriend.

The rest of the room laughs, but all of them notice the look of wanton desire on the CEO’s face, the way she is not so subtly devouring Kara with her eyes. It slowly becomes evident that they need to get out of this apartment before they see something they can’t ever forget.

Lena slowly moves her gaze from Kara over to Alex before a devilish smirk plays across her lips. “Then I suggest you say your goodbyes, Agent Danvers.” She languidly licks her lips and lets her eyes track down Kara’s body again before looking back at the rest of their friends. “All of you should probably call it a night. I have some things to talk to my girlfriend about and we don’t need an audience.”

She pauses for a moment, quirks her brow, and looks directly into cerulean eyes with a smirk. “Unless you’re into that? Seems there’s quite a few things I don’t know about you…yet.”

“Yep, Yes! Okay.” Alex says, bolting up from the couch. “I think it’s definitely time to go.” She grabs Kelly’s hand to pull her off the couch and is quickly followed by Nia. The three of them grab their belongings and dash toward the door.

“Just leave everything, we will clean up tomorrow. Frank is waiting downstairs to see you home.” Lena smiles, her eyes drifting over to the remaining two people occupying the adjacent oversized chair. “That’s your queue to make your way down to the guest apartment. Don’t worry, the penthouse is sound proof so you won’t hear anything.”

Andrea and Sam both laugh. Having known Lena the longest, they are familiar with her antics. They both roll their eyes as they stand and gather their things to head to the floor below and the apartment they are staying in while visiting National City.

“I would say have fun tonight, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” Sam winks, pulling her girlfriend toward the door. “We’ll see you guys for brunch tomorrow.”

As the door closes behind them, Lena turns and straddles Kara’s lap. As her lips hover just above the blonde’s, she rubs her nose against her girlfriends and takes a deep breath. “I think we have some things to discuss, Miss Danvers.” Kara grins and lifts them from the couch, drifting toward the bedroom. “You’ve certainly been holding out on me and surely you have things to show me.”

And that’s how Lena found out Kara once worked at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp fanfic #fanfic #ao3 things #creative writing #fyonahmacnally #mac writes #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #supergirl fanfic #supercorp fanfiction

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nyxronomicon · 3 months

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CAPTURED. WITH JING YUAN. I NEED TO KNOW.

this was supposed to be porn but i wrote almost 3000 words of plot and they don't even kiss! anyway just bc i like you here's the entire wip

send me a wip and i'll post something about it!

jing yuan x stellaron hunter!reader

cw: enemies to lovers vibe (though i never got to the lovers part lol), lots of swearing, reader is sarcastic & pessimistic, mentions of suicide (falling to death)

Captured. It was honestly kind of embarrassing. Of course, the same fate has befallen Kafka and Blade, but that was expected. Your role was to stay unseen, to let them distract the general while you carried out your part of the plan.

That soft smirk on his face when you literally bumped into him. You instantly wished you were paying more attention to where you were going rather than making sure you weren't followed. Then maybe you could have avoided getting caught. Although he looked a little different from the photo, this was undoubtedly Jing Yuan, the General of the Xianzhou Luofu.

"Oh?" He chuckled. "And who might you be?" The iron grip on your wrist suggested this was a rhetorical question, not that you were going to answer. He just smiled, your silence answering the question just as well as your words could have.

"I'm afraid I'll have to take you into custody." His smile was almost apologetic. It was infuriating. He was infuriating. You opted to continue your silence, seeing how this was uncharted territory.

He was gentle with you despite the fact that you were an intergalactic criminal. It was odd, to say the least. This wasn't the first time you were caught like this, but it was by far the most pleasant. He simply boarded a starskiff with you, taking you to aeons know where. You weren't even cuffed, not that there was anywhere you could run to at this point.

You watched your captor as the starskiff glided through the air. You'd seen pictures of him in the briefing, but none of them did him justice. He was incredibly hot, his long silver hair flowing gently in the breeze, framing his strong jaw and that stupid smirk he still wore. Your eyes trailed down his form, noting muscles that could only be maintained with daily training. Despite the situation, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about how attractive he was.

Maybe if you hadn't chosen this life, you could have found someone noble like him to spend your days with.

You shook off those thoughts, reminding yourself that you weren't bound and could make a run for it as soon as you docked. You needed a game plan. You didn't really know where you were, but you could get help from HQ if only you could escape. So as you felt the starskiff slow and the cloud knights busy themselves by hitching it to the dock, you jumped off the boat and ran.

You bolted down the only path you could find, but were quickly met with a dead end and the voice of the general.

"You didn't really think it would be that easy to escape, did you?" He chuckled. You looked over the ledge to the fall below, not realizing he'd approached you from behind until you felt his body against yours. He grabbed your wrists in one hand, easily restraining you with his strength. Not that there was much of a point in making a run for it again.

"I guess I should have figured there would be nowhere to go from here." You finally spoke.

"Don't worry." You could hear the smile in his voice as he firmly pushed the back of your head with his spare hand, forcing your gaze down to the foggy abyss. "Falling would be a fate far worse than what we have to offer here."

"Is this not a prison?" You hissed back at him.

"It is. But at least you’ll live. And I promise this is better than the other prisons you’ve been to." So he did know you. He didn't just stumble upon you by accident, he was looking for you. It was no wonder how he captured the other two so easily.

General Jing Yuan had thrown you in a cell days ago. You hadn’t spoken to a soul since, only knowing the hands that brought you meals three times a day. Admittedly, the cell was much nicer than any of your past prison stints, although the others had their gaps in security that this one just didn’t seem to have. Even if you made it out, Jing Yuan made it clear that you’d need a starskiff to get anywhere.

You were stuck.

Not knowing the status of the other Stellaron Hunters made this all worse, and none of them knew what happened to you, either.

Not that they could help you if they did.

You sighed.

The silence of the cell was deafening.

You heard footsteps. The droll pacing of whatever poor Cloud Knight guarded these cells, most likely. You laid back on the hard cot trying not to think about how dismal the situation was.

"Bored already?" A familiar voice spoke through your cell door. Your eyes darted to the small opening where you could see locks of silver hair spilling over Cloud Knight armor.

"Did you come to keep me company, General?" Your voice was hoarse. Apparently, that happens when you don’t use it. "Pretty sure that’s against the rules." You watched the window, your only glimpse of the outside world.

"Is it?" He chuckled and leaned down, his eyes finding yours through the bars. "Luckily, I’m the one making the rules here." He sported another infuriating smirk.

"Fuck off." You scoffed, looking at the ceiling.

"Come now," He tsked at you. "You’re leaving me hanging after I came all the way out here to visit you?"

"You just want to know what the Stellaron Hunters are planning, right?" You sighed. "I’m not a snitch."

"I never accused you of such." He was so nonchalant. You wished there was a warning in his file about how punchable he was.

"Then what could you possibly have come here for?" You glanced back at the window momentarily before looking up again.

"Kafka seems to have escaped." Jing Yuan smiled.

"She did?!" You immediately sat up, staring at his infuriating grin.

"We were wondering if you have any information to offer. We can make a deal." He was completely unreadable. He seemed all too casual about this, but he was like that about everything, from what you could tell.

"What kind of deal?" You knew you shouldn’t even ask, but you were feeling lonely and bored with no one to talk to, so you just wanted to extend the conversation.

"So you have information that might be valuable to us, then?" Jing Yuan stood again, his chest taking up the window as it did when he first spoke.

"I might." You said too much. Still, you didn’t really plan to say anything more.

"Good." He chuckled. "We’ll keep you here a bit longer, then. And how stupid do you think we are? Let Kafka escape?" His laugh was heartier now. "Yeah, right."

Shit.

"You lied." You hissed, trudging up to the little window to get a good look at him.

"You trusted me." That fucking smile was maddening. You wanted to strangle him. "That was your first mistake." He paused for a moment, clearly imperceptive of the growing fury on the other side of the cell door. Either that or completely apathetic. "Well, I guess your first mistake was watching your back instead of your front." He sauntered down the hall with one last quip. "Made my job a lot easier, though."

Time didn’t really mean anything to you anymore. You could count the meals, but there was no point. Jing Yuan visited you occasionally, but there was no pattern to it from what you could tell. He mentioned a while ago that Kafka and Blade were gone, so you were all alone here. Today felt especially quiet until you heard the familiar gait of the general.

"I’m tired, Jing Yuan." You said when you heard the footsteps stop at your door. You didn’t even need to look to know it was him. "How long have I been here?"

"Do you really want to know?" He was already bent to look through the window, seeing you laying on the cot like usual. You thought for a minute.

"Yes." You looked at him through the window, seeing an empathetic smile. Something about it always ignited your anger again. He was holding you here for no reason. He never even questioned you about your activity. You couldn’t even remember what crime you committed other than being a Stellaron Hunter.

"Its new year’s today." He watched your expression carefully. Two months. You’d been in captivity for two months. "I thought you might appreciate the company."

"Liar." You’d taken to calling him a liar whenever he extended an olive branch. It was more of a reminder to yourself not to take him at face value.

"C’mon." He chuckled. "That was one time. Can’t I feel a little empathy for my favorite prisoner on a holiday?"

"Favorite prisoner?" You scoffed. "What kind of title is that?"

"You don’t like it?" He tilted his head, reminding you how badly you wanted to strangle him.

"Yeah. I love being reminded how trapped in this hellhole I am." Your voice dripped with sarcasm. He chuckled again, each time it got more grating.

"I brought you something." Jing Yuan was as unreadable as ever.

"How generous of you." You sat up on the cot, hoping it was something to eat other than dry rice.

You watched as the general pulled out a pair of fancy handcuffs with a wide grin, holding them in front of the window. They were intricately carved, but still unmistakably sturdy.

"You’re kidding." You sighed.

"I’m not." Jing Yuan always seemed so amused, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his stupid face. Was he purposefully trying to anger you? There’s no way it wasn’t intentional at this point. "The fireworks are in an hour. I thought I’d take you to the roof to see them."

"Pass." You scowled.

"I thought you were dying to get out of here." He grinned. "This might be your last chance for a while."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"You’re wanted on a lot of planets. That’s gotten your case caught up in quite a bit of bureaucracy. It could be months before there are any changes to your situation, and it’s likely it’ll only get worse." He lowered the cuffs out of your view, looking directly at you through the barred window. "I’m afraid this will be your last chance for fresh air for a while."

You looked at him, weighing your options. As much as you loathed the thought of spending the new year with him, you felt like you were going insane in that room. Maybe later you could headbutt him or something just for the satisfaction.

"Why are you doing this?" You finally asked, wondering if he had an ulterior motive.

"It would be a shame for you to miss the new year." He simply smiled. What a stupid reason. There was a dash of melancholy to his voice that you couldn’t quite place, like maybe taking you out like this would mean more to him than it did to you.

You wanted to reject him on principle, but he was right. You hadn’t been outside in two months and you were desperate for a change in scenery. He seemed so empathetic towards you, maybe you could even inspire him to do this again. Or give you better food. Aeons, the things you’d do for better food…

"Fine." You muttered. You could hear the metal latches shift as Jing Yuan unlocked your cell door. This was the first time you’d seen it open since getting thrown in here. He casually walked over to you, opening the handcuffs. You stood, begrudgingly allowing him to cuff you.

The metal was cold on your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat of his body. You hadn’t been this close to another person in months. It was like you forgot what it felt like to touch someone. The brush of his fingers on your skin… you hated to admit it to yourself but it felt really nice. Warm. Inviting.

He finished cuffing your hands behind your back and wrapped a hand around your elbow. "Shall I escort you?" He chuckled, his good spirits as infuriating as ever.

"I can walk just fine." You tugged your arm away from him.

"So be it." He shrugged. "I’ll note that there are Cloud Knights stationed throughout the jail, so there’s no point in trying to escape."

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes.

He tried to make idle chatter on the way to the rooftop, but you were busy taking in the new scenery. The halls were empty and labyrinthine, and even as you tried to memorize the route, it got jumbled in your mind.

You arrived at an elevator, which Jing Yuan called using his fingerprints. Just another insurmountable barrier to your escape.

"You're not listening to me." He said when you got in.

"No." You scoffed. "I don't really like you."

He feigned offense at your words. "I'm your only regular visitor and you don't like me?" The general pouted.

"You're the one who locked me up." You sighed, leaning against the elevator door. "You don't get to be my friend and my captor."

"I see." He laughed that infuriating laugh again. It was like everything you said was a joke. Like he never took you seriously. And yet…

You stomped on his foot. As he recoiled away, you closed the space between you, getting in his face.

"Is this a fucking joke to you?" You growled. Despite having him cornered in the elevator, he was still taller than you. Stronger than you. And he knew it too with the nonchalant smile he wore, even now. "What am I, your little trophy prisoner? The Stellaron Hunter left behind?"

"The Stellaron Hunter left behind…" Jing Yuan repeated your words. "I guess Elio knew this would happen to you, too." The elevator door opened to a small room.

"Whatever the reason, it couldn’t be helped." You shrugged. His tone made you more irate than usual. Maybe you were feeling defensive. The thought had crossed your mind many times in that cell, but you remembered Elio’s words. His gentle tone, his unshakeable confidence, and an intimate focus on you and your worries accompanied them. In time, you will know that this, too, is destiny’s plan.

"Do you really believe that there’s nothing they could do?" Jing Yuan spoke, unlocking the door in front of him. He opened it, the soft natural light spilling in. The air smelled so different, so fresh. You almost wanted to forgive the general for dragging Elio through the mud.

"Maybe they’ll pluck me right off this rooftop. I’m sure Elio knows we’re here." You hissed, glaring at him as he held the door open for you. "Maybe I’ll jump. Destiny is a cruel mistress, as they say." You smirked, wondering what would happen to Jing Yuan if you died because of such a frivolous activity.

He laughed.

The fucking General of the goddamn Xianzhou Luofu laughed at your escape plan.

The sound grated on your ears. Did he have any idea how annoying he was? It was so patronizing how little he thought of you. Just the idea that Destiny’s Slave would come back for you was funny to him, and you were facing a life sentence if not the death penalty! How sick and cruel destiny was to make you spend what could very well be your last moments outside with a man like him.

#idk if i'll finish this but idk we're so close to the sex part lol #yeah it was gonna be hatefucking. under the fireworks #jing yuan #hsr #jing yuan x reader

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that-ari-blogger · 4 months

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It's Time

Ok, this song. (This post might be a bit heavy)

Usually, near the end of a musical, there is a quiet, reflective number before the bombastic finale. This is often the final straw for a large percentage of the audience, who find themselves brought to tears by the rest of the story, and this just catalyses it.

Stray Gods: The Role-Playing Musical has two of such songs. Adrift Reprise, and It's Time. I have already done some analysis on the former of those, but It's Time, I left for last.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

One of the strengths of Stray Gods is its connection. This is a story about a young adult trying to find her place and her purpose. She is adrift, with so many places to go, and she looks to her elders for advice. Surely, they have their lives figured out. Right? But no. I think Apollo says it best at Aphrodite's party.

"We get older, we have more to forget. We hold grudges longer. But wiser? No, not so far."

Stray Gods pulls on very real emotions in its audience, very few people in the audience know where they are going, or what their life will lead them to. So, the themes of fate and choice in this musical become more pertinent. You cannot know what your future will hold without it feeling like a burden, but you can make choices. Good or bad, you can always choose.

This is what the Adrift Reprise number is all about. But there is another almost universal experience that this story hits you with. An emotion that It's Time centres around. Loss.

The vast majority of humans have lost someone at someone close to them at some point in their lives. As you get older, the chance of this happening only increases. It's an unfortunate fact about being mortal. And here's the thing, in Stray Gods, mortality and immortality are not mutually exclusive.

Everyone in this story is mourning, either the loss of Calliope, or the old Hermes, or Hephestus, or the gods who have gone missing. These idols can live forever, but they can also not. The idols are humans, but more. More powerful, more magical, more experienced, but also more fragile, and more weak, and more weird.

Persephone's relationship with Calliope is subtle at first, but once you notice it, you see it everywhere. From the portrait of Calliope in Persephone's office, to the anger at her murder, to the immediate switch from avenger to protector the second she clocks on to Grace actually being Calliope's chosen successor.

So, when they finally meet in the underworld, this can either be an aha moment or a surprise, and either works.

"So many years of history,

The fights, the highs, the miseries,

I'm so proud of you, but it's time to go."

"I never truly saw before,

how trapped we were, how far from shore,

great at the time, but now it's time to go"

In a single verse, two stanzas, this song summarises what could possibly be a centuries long relationship. Tumultuous, but real. For all of their faults, there is a love there. You can see why the relationship broke down, and you know Persephone and Calliope well enough at this point to infer a few more details about that. But you also know that looking back, the connection is still there.

I also want to point out that nautical metaphor again. It links back to Adrift and gets referenced in just about every other song. But the difference now, is who it is aimed at. Usually, Grace is the one being called out for drowning in choices or something similar, but now its Persephone realising just how far out she is, and looking back on her relationship with Calliope, only now can she see where she went wrong. Maybe, if Calliope was still alive, she and this new Persephone could work things out. Now that Persephone isn't obsessing about that throne and can actually admit fault.

The tragedy is that we will probably never get to find out. Because Calliope is dead, and you can't change that.

But what about something you can change?

@ohnoitstbskyen has a phenomenal video titled Grief In Art, which I highly recommend you check out. In it, he gives the following summary of the emotion:

"Grief comes with anger, with emptiness. It comes with loneliness and exhaustion and a dozen other complex and multifaceted feelings that all intermix and grind against each other. That's part of why it can be so overwhelming."

I am willing to bet that this isn't a foreign concept to a large percentage of Stray Gods' audience.

So, tell me, if you were given the chance to bring back a lost loved one, would you take it? It's a complicated question. But if, right now, I told you I could bring back your mother or brother or friend, would you say yes? What price would be too steep? What is the value of a human life? How much would you give?

Personally, I would say yes. To me, every life is unquantifiable, and I would give anything for just a conversation with certain people.

But what about Grace? And what about Freddie?

There are two ways you can come at It's Time in the musical. Well, three actually, but we'll get there in a moment. You either are following the romance storyline with Freddie, or you are not. And from what I can tell, this song makes no distinction between the two. You bring your own baggage.

"It was quick and so was I,

I was not prepared to die.

But Grace, I choose this,

And I know you'll get by."

Do you bring Freddie back from the dead? It's possible, and you'd get your happy ending. You can, but should you? That much is up to you.

Actions have consequences, that's kind of the thesis of this story. One consequence of Grace's actions was the death of Freddie. You can undo that, if you want.

I have played through this game a fair few times at this point, and at this moment, I have gone through both options. If you were to approach this as a simple, numerical question, the answer would be obvious. There is no physical benefit in the game to either decision, so you should do what Freddie says and let her stay dead. The reason this is such a difficult choice is because of the humanity in it.

You know the right choice, to let Freddie stay dead, to not go against her wishes, to not give her the eidolon. Freddie says she is content with her decision, so you should go with that, right?

But are you strong enough to make that choice? I know I wasn't the first time I played this game.

There is one other element that complicates this, and it's fascinating to me. Because that third approach to this song is retrospect.

What if you have played this game before and brought Freddie back? Then you get Freddie's love confession, and it changes the entire story. It's prophecy, like Apollo warned us about. You know the fate you are trying to achieve, so you take actions against yourself to try and thwart it, essentially locking yourself in that path, whether you like it or not.

Does the promise of a happy ending change your choices here?

Final Thoughts

There is a reason I left this song until last. It's one of those songs in musical theatre that brings a tear to my eye every time I watch it or listen to it. The instruments, the melody, the fact that this is the only time Grace ever says "Farishta". Everything about this song is amazing.

Next week is my final roundup for Stray Gods, and as a quick reminder, I am putting out a request for your analysis, be it musical or artistic or lyrical. Send me a message, or comment, reblog this post, and I will try to include as many as I can (credited to you, naturally) in the final analysis to build a big picture of what everyone thinks of this musical.

So, stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

#rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #character analysis #what's so special about...?#stray gods #greek mythology #stray gods grace #stray gods game #stray gods the roleplaying musical #grace x freddie #stray gods spoilers #stray gods freddie #greddie #stray gods persephone #stray gods calliope

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wen-kexing-apologist · 4 months

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10 BL Boys I Want Carnally

I was tagged by @twig-tea, but I do what I want so I'm ignoring the Boys thing (and on at least one occasion the BL thing). Anyway, without further ado, and in no particular order.

Win!Lin- Cupid's Last Wish

LOOPHOLE FIRST!

gif by @angelbesideme

Thanks to Cupid's Last Wish, Jan is a boy here! So I am choosing Win from Cupid's Last Wish before he body swaps back. HOWEVER, if I'm honest, it was less Win and more masc!Jan that made my brain short circuit so do with that what you will.

Toon- Seneha Stories

I am breaking from the prompt immediately, but this is my post and I can do what I want, so I am choosing Toon from Seneha Stories, which @so-much-yet-to-learn brought my attention to. Seneha Stories is definitively not a BL, but Toon is hot, kind, sad, and he fucks so I'd be living my best life.

Miw, Neo, Shin, and Mae - 3 Will Be Free

THIS IS NOT ME SUGGESTING A FOURSOME, THIS IS JUST ME TRYING TO PREVENT FOUR OF THE TEN SPACES FROM BEING 3 WILL BE FREE.

I like it when my fictional women not only are capable of murder, but have, in fact, murdered. Miw and Mae are hot, competent, killers, fucking over evil billionaires so what is not to love?

I am not immune to Neo and his slutty little crop tops. He has three brain cells and they are all that is keeping him from not dying. Iconic to be honest.

I am not immune to Shin and his glasses, and his kindness. I mean, the boy got cut with a knife and not only comforted the kid that wounded him when he started freaking out but dated him.

Mollie - The Warp Effect

gif by @patpran

MY FIRST NON-BINARY REP IN THAILAND, MY BELOVED. Mollie is so fucking hot, they are talented, they have sick tattoos, they are fighting for themselves, and are changing the landscape of media, what is not to love?

You could also almost certianly put in any of Silvy's characters and I would probably want them carnally, cause...it's Silvy.

(honestly, I'd go for Nim too, but again, not for her character's personality, it's the masc!Jan effect)

Kim- KinnPorsche

gif by @namchyoon

For this scene and this scene only. Honestly, I think if nothing else this shows you that my type is people who could actually maybe kill me in a fight.

Or at the very least, people I could get in to a homoerotic fight with.

Anyway, Jeff gives me gender envy and the first time I saw this gifset, I thought he was a butch lesbian.

Speaking of homoerotic fights

Phaya and Sand - The Sign

MENACE! A MENACE I TELL YOU! I truly well and deeply have an appreciation for when someone who (I assume) typically would top absolutely just vibrates out of their skin at the first sign they might be topped.

And I'm adding Sand here as well because I think my jaw dropped like ten feet when I saw her on screen.

Sand, baby girl, let me know if Yai doesn't treat you right, cause I will.

King- Bed Friend

gif by @earthfluuke

Shout out to this man, I've seen him on at least three of these lists. But who could blame us? Look at him.

Choy Yu Na- Semantic Error

She did that bisexual sit and my heart was hers.

And for my last two picks, I certainly am asking myself the question, do I want them carnally or do I just want them?

Mork -My Ride

Helloooooooo Mr. Dimples. I mean....I feel like I don't need to explain myself here. We all get it, right? We understand, right? And besides, he gives rides for a living or something...

Minoru- Our Dining Table

HE'S JUST SO NICE, SO KIND, SO TIRED. @isaksbestpillow is so right, he is a mother. I love him.

Tagging @so-much-yet-to-learn, @solitaryandwandering, @respectthepetty and anyone else who sees this and wants to join!

#10 bl boys I want carnally #cupid's last wish #seneha stories #3 will be free #the warp effect #the sign the series #our dining table #semantic error #my ride the series #bed friend the series #kinnporsche #tag game

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lendeah · 4 months

Text

After the Weave 2.

series masterlist

Summary: Astarion x OFC!Tav, past Gale x OFC!Tav

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav, past Gale x Fem!Tav

Tags: Angst, Drinking to Cope, References to Depression, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Emotional Baggage, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Post-Break Up, Tav finds herself again with Astarion, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD.

Word count: 4.5k

Also on AO3

"Well, it is not as bad as I remembered" I tell Astarion, while entering the enormous stone arch of the entrance to the Crimson Palace. "It is so much worse. "

Astarion just laughed. "Always the optimist, aren't you?" His words were frosted with his typical humor, his voice smooth as velvet. "Would you prefer to return to your melancholic musing instead?"

I shot him a glare, but he ignored me as we stepped into the place that brought me so many bad memories. While it still looked like it did back in the day we came to beat Cazador. The ominous decoration that used to be dark, with crimson rugs and dark wooden floors, is now a bit more lively; vibrant paintings decorating the halls, flowers in every vase, and shelves full of books in every corner. The rugs are also changed to ones with different patterns of lively colors, like purple and orange. Overall, it feels like the house has become alive with Astarion's influence.

He takes me around, showing me every nook, even though I have been here before. As he moves ahead of me, I can't help but observe his changed appearance - his hair now falls just above his broad shoulders and his once sturdy frame now seems leaner, a result of the lack of physical activity we were subjected to in the past.

"This is the Kitchen, not that we use it a lot anyway" he continues, lively. As we come across the next hallway, a tall figure is already there, speaking to a servant. When she turns to face them, her face seems familiar. Then she remembers: she is one of Astarion's sisters, the one they met at the flophouse along with his brother. She stands tall, almost as tall as Astarion himself, with long, flowing blonde hair and the same bright red eyes. Her features are sharp, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin, giving her a regal and intimidating presence.

"Dalyria" Astarion greets her.

"Brother," She replies warmly, though she doesn't bother to hide the slight frown on her face. "You look exhausted as usual. Is everything alright? You know I can prepare you a replenishing potion should you be in need of one"

"That can wait" He replies nonchalantly. Then he turns to me. "Remember my dear friend, Elara?"

"Oh, I do recall. You freed us from Cazador." She replies, in a tone that's hard to place. There's genuine interest there - maybe a touch of amusement. There's also a degree of suspicion in the way she holds my gaze, though it seems less like she thinks I'm an enemy and more like she's studying me.

I smile. "That was me indeed."

"Then consider my thanks to you," she bows her head slightly, her expression still unreadable. "My brother has said much about you these past few weeks."

I turn to him in surprise, raising my eyebrows slightly "I wonder what my dear companion here has been talking behind my back" I retort.

Before Astarion can reply, Dalyria continues "There is indeed a great deal you might say about such a remarkable mage. My brother speaks only the highest praise of you, in fact." She gives me an appraising glance up and down before turning her attention back towards her brother." By the way, I have made some progress with the investigation, but it seems every time I find something new things get more complicated" she adds.

Astarion nods, serious for once. It must be something important then.

"I will come to your office when I finish with her " Astarion turns back to me, his smirk still in place. "Shall we continue our tour then? I believe you have yet to see her bedchamber." He offers his arm, gesturing towards the large double doors at the end of the hall. As he leads me ahead, I smile at her and add "It was nice to meet you again, Dalyria"

Dalyria nods politely in response before continuing down the hall. As we walk, I glance back at Astarion.

"So you've been speaking highly of me."

He laughs, the sound light and musical.

"Don't let it go to your head. I may have mentioned your name in passing once or twice."

"Uh-huh," I reply, unconvinced. "I thought all your siblings had gone to the Underdark to guide the vampire spawn."

"In fairness, most of them have" He replies as we reach a wooden door. At that, Astarion's expression grows serious, his playful demeanor fading. "Dalyria has proven herself invaluable in tracking down various threats and conspiracies against me. She is also investigating a private matter."

My fingers twitch nervously as I debate whether or not to pry further. Astarion's demeanor has shifted, becoming more open and approachable than the last time I saw him. "Have you... resolved your issues? With your siblings, I mean."

Astarion's expression darkens slightly at my question, and I immediately regret asking. But to my surprise, he answers nonetheless.

"Not entirely," he says with a sigh. "But we have come to an understanding of sorts. They still see me as a traitor, but they know that I am the reason they are free from Cazador."

I nod solemnly, understanding the weight of his words. As we continue walking down the hall, Astarion suddenly opens a set of carved wooden doors and gestures for me to enter. I step inside and find myself in a grand bedroom, with floor-to-ceiling shelves stacked with leatherbound books. The plush chairs and polished tables give off an air of elegance, while the fancy rugs and huge fireplace add a touch of warmth to the space. But what catches my eye is the enormous bed lying in the center of it all.

"Here's where you'll be staying," Astarion announces, waving his hand across the room. His voice is casual, but I notice an underlying tone of nervousness. Was he worried about my reaction? "I hope it's to your liking."

I stand in awe at the grandeur of the room, taking in every detail. "This is...amazingly excessive," I say, turning to look at Astarion with a smile.

That brings a smirk back to his face, and he shrugs languidly. "I've been told my tastes veer towards the extravagant. Feel free to make any changes you like."

I chuckle at that and then turn my attention towards the room once more. It is a beautiful space, with the kind of splendor I'd only ever seen in royal chambers. The walls are adorned with rich tapestries depicting various scenes from myths and legends. There are large windows draped with velvet curtains, closed to protect the inside from the morning sunlight.

Turning around, I approach a large painting hanging above the fireplace. It depicts a grand feast filled with all sorts of creatures - humans, elves, tieflings, orcs, and what looked like demons? A strange choice for decoration but it was beautifully painted nonetheless.

"So, what's next?" I ask curiously.

Astarion pushed himself off the doorframe "Take your time to cool off, darling. We can meet for lunch later, and I'll fill you in on the juicy details then."

I nod and turn again. This feels like way too much, but I guess that's how it always is with Astarion. I decide to go to the on-suite bathroom first and take a moment to freshen up. The bathroom holds a mirror that spans one entire wall and a sunken tub, already filled with hot water, steaming gently. I shed my used clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the marble floor as I step into the warm bath. The heat envelopes me, soothing my tired muscles.

I lean back against the edge of the bath, closing my eyes and letting out a quiet sigh. This life here is far from the humid and dirty basement I was living in. All the luxuries make me feel out of place. But then again, perhaps this is Astarion's world now – a world of elegance and intrigue where I was merely a guest.

After what feels like hours, I rise from the bath, wrapping myself in one of the plush towels. As I open the closet, my mouth falls open. It's full to the brim with fancy expensive clothing. My hand reaches to trail along the vests, and I decide to settle for a green soft dress, light to the touch. I retouch my hair, placing the crazy black strands in a long high braid. Then I get out, crossing different halls to reach the dining room. The table has been set, and a lavish spread of mouth-watering dishes sits before me. It smells divine, the aroma wafting in the air enough to make my stomach growl.

From across the room, I spot Astarion leaning casually against a pillar, dressed in a scarlet silk shirt that matches his eyes and a pair of fitted black trousers. His shiny white hair falls in elegant curls around his face and he looks absolutely captivating.

"Enjoy your bath?" he asks as I approach, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He still has his usual smug confidence, it seems.

I give a slight nod and shrug nonchalantly, "It was nice, thank you," I admit trying to match his tone. He grins at me before taking a seat at the head of the table and gesturing to the one right next to him.

"Please, help yourself," Astarion says with a wave of his hand, gesturing towards the food.

There's a variety of dishes laid out before us – a hearty-lookingfreshly beef stew, roasted vegetables, a platter of assorted cheeses, and fresh baked bread. I wonder why he brought so much food when I am the only one able to enjoy it.

Astarion pours out two glasses; one of dark red wine for me and what I assume is blood for him.

As I eat, I decide to break the comfortable silence we've settled into "So, what was this urgent matter with the spawn that led you to seek my help".

Astarion smiles, sipping on his wine before answering "Well, as it turns out, taking care of 7000 spawn lurking in the Underdark and city sewers is not an easy task. Less so when they absolutely despise you for being the reason they are there in the first place" He smiles, but it's strained, the lines of his face terse "That's the short of it."

"And what's the long version?" I ask.

"So, it seems the city has become quite the popular destination for disappearances. And how fortunate for us, some have turned up deceased with bite marks adorning their bodies. My intuition leads me to believe they may be the work of a recently escaped group of spawns. They've always had a particular appetite for the finer things in life, so perhaps now they've developed an appetite for humans. Can you blame them? After being cooped up for so long, I'm sure they're craving something new and exciting." He rolls his eyes. "Also, providing for them has been proven not only difficult but also incredibly expensive. Even with Cazador's fortune at our disposition." he adds "And the spawn themselves are no help. They're like petulant children, and I mean that quite literally. With Cazador dead and a thousand-plus years of confinement gone to waste, they are utterly lost. Most of them are refusing to eat at all. Others are gorging themselves into an animalistic state. It's like I'm trying to corral feral cats, only the cats all have sharp teeth, claws, and a deep hatred of me"

I nod, processing the words "And how do you think I could help you solve all of this?"

"Well, I'm not asking you to solve it. I'm asking you to help me manage it" He replies, leaning forward.

I raise an eyebrow, "And why come to me for help? Surely there are others who are more experienced in dealing with such creatures."

Astarion smirks, "Because my dear, you have a unique set of skills that I believe could be quite useful in this situation. And besides, I trust you. You've proven yourself to be quite resourceful and adaptable during our time together. Your ability to handle conflicts with diplomacy has always been evident. People listen to you, follow you, even to deathly war battles." he takes a long sip of his wine "I believe that you can use that charisma to our advantage. So many of Cazador's old allies have been fleeing our side, with his recent death and my new situation as a vampire spawn no longer being so... secretive. If we could show we still had allies of importance on our side, I believe it would turn our whole situation around. We could win their respect enough to earn their aid once again."

"So you want me to manipulate them so they will give us more money to waste on some wild murderous spawn living in the Underdark?" I raise a skeptical eyebrow.

"That is precisely what I'm asking you to do." His lips curl up into a mocking smirk as he continues, "But don't worry, darling, I'm not suggesting that you outright lie to them. No, no, just use your considerable charm and cunning to sway them our way." He shrugs nonchalantly. "And as for the 'wild murderous spawn', well, some of them are actually quite decent. They're just experiencing the same struggles we are. It's a shame really."

I sigh "Yeah, I kind of get that," I whisper, more to myself than him.

"That's all I ask," Astarion purrs, his crimson eyes glinting mischievously. "Just a few measly balls, charming the pants off of every noble in attendance, you know, basically your expertise. Just..." He pauses, exhaling dramatically before locking eyes with me again. "I need to make sure I do things right for them this time. It's the least they deserve, after what I did."

My heart swells with emotion at this unexpected change in him. His demeanor is so... different. So strikingly mature and selfless. It's a stark contrast to the old Astarion, who only ever had eyes for his selfish desires.

I take a moment to compose myself before responding, "Astarion, it wasn't your fault. You didn't know Cazador was keeping them alive." I say, reaching to touch his arm, his skin as cold as I remembered, "and you were going through a lot of pain too." I whisper softly.

Astarion freezes as my hand touches his arm, his eyes drifting away from mine and towards the bottle of wine. He looks back up at me for a moment, his mouth twitching slightly. "I was a tool of Cazador, yes," Astarion continues. "But I also...I had my own part in it." His voice is barely a whisper now, tinged with regret. "I condemned them to an eternal darkness, gave them false hope, and then took it away from them."

"But you're trying to change that now," I tell him, my voice soft but determined. "You're doing what you can to help them. That's worth something. And we will help them. Together."

Astarion's expression softens, and for a moment, I see a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes before he quickly masks it with a smirk. "Oh, darling, you always know just what to say." He leans back in his chair, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his wine glass."Well..." he continues, as if he had never just gotten so close to breaking down as he did "it sounds like we have a lot of work to do, don't we?" He leans over to refill my glass, a smile on his lips. "You know, in hindsight, it might have been a mistake to call you here for a job offer. You are looking exceptionally... inviting in that outfit. Very seductive, if I may be so bold" He adds, giving me a sly smirk.

I roll my eyes, taking my hand off him. "Keep dreaming, bloodsucker."

Astarion lounges in his chair, a devilish twinkle dancing in his eyes. "But my dear, let's not forget all those indulgent moments we shared together when you let me feed from you? I know you really enjoyed those" He leans closer, voice dripping with honeyed seduction. "Perhaps we should revisit those blissful days, hm?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "No chance in hell, Astarion." I take a sip of wine to hide the slight tremor in my hand at his words. Memories of our past together flood my mind, and I can feel his fangs piercing my skin, the pain quickly giving way to a pleasure unlike any other. His hands, surprisingly gentle for someone with such sharp teeth, traced every curve of my body with a tenderness that both thrilled and terrified me.

"Oh, my sweet, you must be craving for some excitement after all these dull months without that wizard's touch." He purrs, his fingers brushing against the back of my hand.

The mention of Gale sends a pang through my heart, but I quickly push it aside and retrieve my arm. "You know very well that's not what I'm here for," I respond firmly.

He chuckles, placing his hand over his heart mockingly. "My apologies, my dear," he says with a hint of sarcasm. "I'll try not to let old feelings get in the way."

I take a deep breath and rise from my seat "Now if you'll excuse me," I say as I stretch languidly, "I am going to get acquaintance with my bed."

I turn to leave, but not before I feel his cool hand on my wrist again. "Wait..." he says, not meeting my eyes. "Thank you. For everything. For listening and for agreeing to help. I...I appreciate it."

His words catch me off guard, but I manage a small smile. "It's what friends do, Astarion. We help each other out."

His grip on my wrist tightens for a moment before he releases it. "Yes...friends, of course..." he murmurs, looking up at me with an unreadable expression before I turn away.

Walking down the long carpeted hallway towards my quarters, I think about what Astarion said. About the spawn, their situation, and how he wants me to help. It's a lot to take in. But then again, what part of my life isn't overwhelming these days?

"I don't want to dance" I whine "I hate dancing. Is it truly necessary?" I say while Astarion leads me to the ballroom.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of preparation for the next ball, which happened to be the next day. Astarion had taken it upon himself to teach me every name and position of every attendee possible, filling my head with endless information. He had also taught me protocol and manners, deeming my behavior akin to that of a "savage in elegant attire." My days had been consumed with a routine of endless studying and fancy dinners with the vampire. It was a welcome distraction from the haunting nightmares that plagued my sleep again. Also, living with him hadn't been as bad as I had anticipated, as he seemed more relaxed and mature than all those months ago- in fact, it was quite nice having someone to talk to and spend time with after so much time.

Adjusting my sleeping schedule from night to day had also been strange. However, my tired body and mind gratefully embraced the break from the unrelenting cycle of stress and sleepless nights. To my surprise, I didn't find myself constantly thinking about ale like I thought I would, as my mind was preoccupied with endless details and plans instead.

Despite the improvements, I had been absolutely dreading the moment I had to learn how to dance, as I was well aware of my terrible lack of skill in that area. I had tried to convince Astarion out of it for weeks but to no avail.

"Yes, it's absolutely necessary," the vampire answers without missing a beat. "You're not going to convince anyone of anything if you're standing around like a wallflower." He grins at me with that infuriatingly charming smirk of his. "Besides, you might enjoy it. Dancing is a lot like battle. There's strategy involved, lots of footwork, and the right partner can make all the difference." he ends with a wink.

I huff in response. "I'd rather fight a horde of goblins than dance in front of snotty aristocrats," I grumble under my breath. But I know there's no point in arguing. Astarion has made up his mind, and he's as stubborn as they come.

The empty ballroom is splendid, bathed in the warm glow of numerous chandeliers that cast prismatic rainbows across the polished marble floor.

"You can't be serious, Astarion," I say, turning to face him with pleading eyes. "I have two left feet. There's no way I can possibly learn how to dance in one night."

He simply raises an eyebrow at me before gesturing towards an empty corner of the room.

"Luckily for you, my dear," he says with a smirk, "I happen to be quite skilled in dancing."

Before I can protest any further, he takes my hand and leads me over to the center, as soft ballroom music starts playing. Astarion moves me through the steps slowly at first. We stand close together, his hand finding mine while the other rests on my waist. I swallow nervously as he guides me through steps I can hardly remember.

"Relax," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "You're thinking too much."

"You're stepping on my feet too much," I retort.

"The key is to let the music guide you," he says as we begin to move. "Feel the rhythm in every part of your being. Imagine you are fighting – you must anticipate their next move."

His smile widens, and he squeezes my hand, moving us into a gentle twirl. "You're looking majorly exquisite tonight." He whispers in my ear, his low voice sending tingles up and down my spine. I gulp, he always knew how to make me nervous. I try to distract myself by centering my attention on the task at hand.

The dance is simple enough: a few simple steps across the floor, then a twirl, then stepping back to begin another turn. At first, I struggle to follow his rhythm, but Astarion guides me with ease, our bodies moving in unison. I soon begin to relax, letting him lead me as we glide across the floor.

"I must admit, there are few things that you are skilled at. But dancing certainly isn't one of them." Astarion adds, his tone playful.

I raise an eyebrow at him but don't bother responding. Instead, I focus on moving more smoothly across the floor as he leads. I slowly begin to learn the pattern of the dance, and I find I am enjoying myself more and more as we move together. I smile slightly despite myself, and as we twirl once more, I notice how close we are. Our bodies are almost touching, dancing slowly and rhythmically together. It has been months since I have been this close to someone, and it makes me feel a little guilty to think about Gale like I am betraying him somehow.

Astarion doesn't seem to notice my discomfort, or perhaps he's purposefully ignoring it. He leads me through a few more steps, this time slightly faster and more complex, but I'm able to follow his rhythm easily. "Have you had many partners on the dance floor?" he asks after a few moments, his voice low and soothing.

I smile slightly out of breath "Well, you know Gale wasn't keen on dancing, so no. You have the honor of being my first"

Astarion pauses in the middle of a step, glancing up at me with a sly grin. "Oh really? I didn't realize I had such a special privilege" He twirls me around so I'm facing away from him, and then pulls me back in so our bodies are almost touching again. "It seems I should be thanking you instead of the other way around"

I roll my eyes "Well, I haven't thanked you, actually."

He smirks at me, his eyes glinting in the candlelight. "No, I suppose you haven't." He leans in close, his voice low and quiet, "Maybe you should fix that."

, his voice soft against my skin causing a shiver to crawl down my spine. I look up at him, our faces inches apart. My breath catches and my pulse quickens slightly. His eyes hold a certain level of mischief that has me both exhilarated and scared all at once. It's a feeling I have associated with Astarion since the day we met.

"Maybe I should," I murmur back in response, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. But I can see the glimmer in his eyes that tells me he knows just how much he's affecting me. And of course, he wouldn't be Astarion if he didn't take advantage of the situation.

His hand slides down from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me closer. His thumb brushes against the exposed skin there, sending waves of goosebumps along my body. He leans in even closer until our noses are almost touching.

"But then again," he whispers, his breath warm against my lips."What would Gale think of this? He wouldn't be thankful for me touching you like this, would he?"

His words hit me like a bucket of icy water, pulling me back to reality. I pull back abruptly, stumbling slightly as I detach myself from Astarion's grasp.

"I—I don't know," I stutter, my cheeks hot. His words have stirred a pot of emotions within me, his charm ensnaring me in a moment that felt too intimate, too personal. Memories of Gale flood my consciousness, his soft voice, the way he looked at me with his big brown eyes. He asked me to marry him, to wait for him. Suddenly, dancing with Astarion feels so wrong.

His eyes narrow slightly as he studies me, not saying a word as he waits for me to gather my thoughts. "Look Astarion," I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you want this deal to work, you have to stop that. It is enough for me to get over my breakup, I can't deal with you play flirting around me all day."

Astarion raises an eyebrow at my response, a devious smirk playing on his lips. He leans back against the edge of a table casually, crossing his arms. It is as if we were simply discussing the weather.

"I'll keep that in mind. But don't worry, I won't push my luck again." He lifts his hand in surrender, trying to lighten the mood. I can feel that he's not done yet. My fear is not in his attempts, but in my own weakness to resist him again. Can I keep saying no?

Despite the situation, I can't help but smile at his casual demeanor. There's something about Astarion's wit that reminds me of my old self.

"In that case," I say after a moment of contemplation, "Thank you, Astarion. For the dance and your...guidance."

"There it is," he smiles "Good girl. I knew you would make it."

Our playful banter is abruptly halted by a servant, who clears his throat discreetly as they cross the opulent room.

"Mr. Ancunín," he addresses Astarion with a slight bow, "I have been instructed to deliver a missive intended for our esteemed guest."

Astarion motions for the man to approach and looks at me, with an unreadable expression in his eyes. But I am unable to tear my gaze away from the piece of parchment paper in his hands. As he draws closer, I can see the familiar handwriting scrawled across it, causing my breath to catch in my throat.

It is Gale's handwriting.

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